♡𝔾𝕪𝕦𝕥𝕒𝕣𝕠 𝕊𝕚𝕞𝕡𝕤♡

Night reigned over the tracks once more, and you found yourself sitting on the worn wooden floor of that train car again. Gyutaro's presence, after that day, had begun to feel lighter for you, but on days like this, when you had to deal with him and the other demons there, Douma, Akaza and Rui, it was a little more difficult, especially after Akaza made you that offer.

At first, you simply sat there, scribbling some dialogue ideas in your notebook. You thought they would simply ignore you, which was good, until you heard.

_And this one? Is she like your babysitter or something? - Douma asked, looking at you and then at Gyutaro, making the thinner demon clench his fists.

_Shut up - Gyutaro growled, his voice irritated and a deadly glare directed at the other two.

_Is she your little friend then ? With all due respect, but I think she's terrified of you - Akaza said this time, raising an eyebrow and alternating his gaze between the two of you.

_I-I'm not afraid of him, I trust him! - A crooked smile spread across the pink-haired oni's face, and he leaned against the bars.

_You really trust him, huh?... Then go ahead, open the cage and go in with him - Akaza's bold and irritated proposal made your eyes widen, and you turned your head, looking at the same surprised expression on Gyutaro's face through the bars. His words even caught the attention of Douma, and Rui, who was playing with a spider in the corner of his cage.

His colorful pupils turned to you, and it was almost imperceptible, but you saw the faint glimmer of hope as you awaited his reaction. But you couldn't. You trusted him, didn't you? What if Sanemi found out? The rule was reinforced: you couldn't leave the cage open. Or was it that fear was still ingrained in your bones, preventing you from acting, and you were making excuses?

_...I knew you didn't have the courage— Akaza's sharp voice cuts through your thoughts, and before you could argue, the door suddenly opens, revealing Sanemi's irritated figure.

Sanemi uses a wisteria branch to weaken the three oni, opening the cages one by one and placing a collar on each. Amidst their movements, you avoid looking to the side and seeing Gyutaro, and as soon as the sound of the wooden door pulls you from your thoughts, you realize you're alone with him again. You remain silent for a few seconds, until the oni breaks the silence with a sigh.

_Forget what that idiot told you... I don't blame you for being afraid of me...—He scratches the back of his neck, letting out a sigh. His words make you bite your lower lip and move closer to the bars that separate you.

_I... I might be a little afraid of you, but... I don't want to be! And that's why I want to get to know you better, Gyutaro... Because I'll be able to change this image I have of you because of others— Your words escape before you can properly organize your thoughts, and he stares at you with surprised eyes.

You look at him with a certain courage, expecting a reaction from the oni in front of you, who only stares at you with an indecipherable expression. Slowly, he moves within the small perimeter of the cage, the faint smell of decay approaching, and stands before you, with only the bars separating you. You clench your hands tightly in front of your chest and look at him with a trembling but determined gaze. Hesitantly, Gyutaro extends his arm, and your brain sends an alert signal that you choose to ignore, while his cold, rough hand touches your cheek, making you blush with surprise.

_... You're too good for me... I'm a monster, darling... - His voice was deep and slightly soft, and your lower lip trembles as you feel his thumb circling your soft skin. Instinctively, your smaller hands rise to wrap around his thick, bony wrist, and you nestle your face in his palm, looking at him with shining pupils.

_You're not a monster! I... I see you as someone, as a person... I-I don't care if others see you that way - He chuckles nervously, and you could swear you felt your heart pounding again at that.

_I don't know what you saw in me, but... thank you... - The atmosphere between you flows like a calm river, and your gazes locked on each other are the current.

_You are so beautiful.. - He murmurs, a small smile appearing on his chapped lips.

_I think you're handsome too, even if you don't believe me - With your speech, he laughs in a melancholic way, his eyes drifting down to your lips for a few moments.

In that moment you felt peace, and the fact that Gyutaro had brought it surprised you in a good way. The temporary calm is interrupted by the sound of approaching footsteps, and you both separate, your faces flushing.

_I-I need to go back... see you tomorrow! - You quickly move away, embarrassment taking over as you speak shyly, and leave the carriage in a hurry, closing the door behind you.

Gyutaro stares intently at the door you exited through, then looks at his own hands, still feeling the warmth of your face on his fingers, and he sighs with a grunt.

_What is she doing to me? - he murmurs, running a hand through his messy hair.

You throw yourself onto the firm mattress of your bed and stare at the ceiling, your cheeks flushing red every time the scene replays in your mind.

Lost in thought, you don't even notice Shinobu and Mitsuri entering the shared quarters; they exchange a glance, seeing how flustered you look.

_Is everything okay, [Name]? - Mitsuri’s sweet question startles you, and you quickly turn toward them.

_O-oh... yeah, I'm fine... just a little... dizzy, I guess - You reply, hoping to convince them.

_If something is going on, you can tell us... we know about the new task Sanemi gave you - Shinobu says as she sits on her bed across the room.

_That's true, you looked scared that day - Mitsuri adds, both of them watching you closely.

_Everything really is fine; you don't need to worry - Your assurance seems to work, and they stop asking questions.

The hours of the night drag on slowly; your feelings are jumbled and confused—like a tangled ball of yarn—constantly pulling you back to mentally stumble over that earlier scene.

You were starting to feel something for him, and it wasn't fear.

_______________________________________

General question: do you guys want a chapter with smut? I was unsure whether to do it or not, so I decided to ask you guys

@pookiei-bookie

@gyuuarchive

@simbaratama

Subject displays high intelligence. Capable of speech, complex thought, and conversation. 

Subject displays biological functions akin to uninfected, living beings. Such as pupillary light reflex. 

Subject displays familial connection and emotional attachment.

Further research is needed to determine level of infection and possible strain differences.

“He was absolutely extraordinary. Not only did his body function differently than we originally thought, but he’s smart. He held a conversation with me, showed unique personality traits, and even a strong bond with his sister.”

“Him and his sister were like this. They are the only infected people I’ve seen that are capable of this. And they are stronger too. They took down 24 men in less than five minutes. Bullet wounds appeared to heal almost instantly. There’s so many more questions I want to ask him…”

You go on and on, spilling your guts to your colleagues. Gushing over the encounter you had with the advanced infected subject. You haven’t been able to sleep since you’ve met him. He’s consumed every second of your thoughts. Your mind is spiraling with hundreds of questions you want to ask, and dozens of experiments you want to perform. 

Sergeant Sanemi was quick to send you out again, almost suspiciously so. But you really didn’t care. Is it dangerous? Absolutely. But after walking away from your encounter unscathed, you have a false sense of safety as you walk through the abandoned city again. 

This time, armed with a backpack and a weapon you barely know how to use. They didn’t send any soldiers with you this time, figuring it wouldn’t matter in the end because they always end up dead. 

As you walk towards the ruined intersection from your previous encounter, you spot an infected. A young man with clouded eyes and strange markings on his face. He slowly turns his head and stares at you, his lips curling into a snarl. 

You fumble with your weapon, your hands shaking as you point your pistol at him. You know it won’t kill him, but the instinct to protect yourself is still there. 

But he doesn’t attack you. He turns away and starts walking in the opposite direction. 

“I knew you’d be back,” a familiar voice calls from above. 

You look up to see the same man from last time, the advanced infected, staring at you from the top of a traffic light. 

He jumps down and wastes no time sizing you up, circling you like he’s deciding what your fate should be. 

Now that the initial panic has subsided, you take your time getting a good look at him. 

He’s tall, very tall. Six and a half feet, maybe more. And his body is unique to say the least. Broad shoulders and strong arms, but a waist that’s as thin as a runway model and hips that have almost no meat on them. But the most unique thing is the splotchy black markings littered across his face and body. You wonder if those markings came after he got infected or if he always had them. 

“H-Hi…” you mutter, waving sheepishly. 

“...Hi,” he narrows his eyes suspiciously, “Lemme guess. You wanna ask me more annoying questions?”

“Absolutely!” you say quickly, with way too much enthusiasm, “Only if you’re ok with it.”

He scoffs, “You’re so fuckin’ weird,” he grabs you by the arm and starts leading you somewhere, “C’mon.”

You follow him without question. Not like you have much of a choice anyway. 

He takes you down into an abandoned underground subway station. It’s eerily quiet and surprisingly parts of it still have working lights. 

“This’ll work,” he mumbles to himself as he absentmindedly scratches his neck.

“Why are you doing this?” you blurt out, “Not that I’m not grateful! I just… I don’t understand why you want to help me.”

“I dunno,” he shrugs, “Killing is fun and all. But things get kinda boring, I guess… not much to do these days.”

You chuckle under your breath, “Fair enough.”

“Besides,” he grins, “It’s fun watchin’ you humans scramble to try to fix this. Thinkin’ you can save the world. Havin’ hope. It’s pathetic and I find it entertaining.”

“So, you don’t think a cure is possible?”

“Even if it is, how’re you gonna take the cities back? You don’t even know how to kill us.”

“You have a point,” you grin despite the somber topic, “But consider me an optimist. Besides, like you said, there’s not much to do these days. And I enjoy researching, even if it is futile in the end.”

“So consider this a symbiotic relationship,” you continue, “We both get to have a little fun in a world where video games and social media no longer exist.”

“Exactly,” he grins.

The two of you sit across from each other on the pavement. It’s not comfortable, but there’s enough light for you to see what you’re doing, and it seems to be far enough away from any other infected. 

You pull a plethora of supplies out of your bag. With a notebook in hand, you begin your questions. 

“First things first, what’s your name?” 

“Gyutaro,” he answers, “And my sister is Daki.”

You didn’t ask about his sister but you find it interesting that he brought her up anyway. 

“Well Gyutaro, it’s nice to finally know your name,” you smile and speak to him like you would a normal patient, “My name is Y/N.”

He mutters your name under his breath, almost too quiet for you to hear. 

“Why are you different from the other infected? You and your sister.”

“I dunno,” he shrugs.

“You don’t know?”

“We’re special, I guess. We were chosen.”

“Chosen by who?”

“That’s off limits, sweetheart,” he grins.

Subject claims he was chosen specifically to have this possibly advanced strain of the virus. Someone or something gave it to him? Maybe patient zero? Was he an experiment gone wrong?

“Fine, I won’t ask about that…” you sigh and move on, “How come some people turn when they are killed, and others don’t?”

“I dunno.”

“Do you know anything?” you say in frustration. 

“I ain’t a damn scientist like you. How am I supposed to know this shit? I just kill people and eat ‘em when I’m hungry. I dunno all the specifics,” he gets frustrated too, baring his teeth. Reminding you that you’re not the one in control here. 

“Ok sorry… I’ll ask something else,” you flip through pages in your notebook. “Do you remember your life before you were turned?”

“Not really,” he mumbles and looks off into the distance as if he’s trying to recall a memory, “I remember how I felt… I remember loving my sister. I remember hating the world. But I don’t remember events.”

“That’s really interesting,” you write down some observations. “C-can I give you a physical exam?”

“... sure,” he says after a long pause. 

Excited to finally have the opportunity to examine someone who’s infected, you put on a pair of gloves. “I’m going to touch you, ok?”

“S’fine,” he mumbles and watches your every move. 

You start with his eyes, which look extremely unhealthy yet beautiful at the same time. His pupils are a deep red, though they still react normally when you shine your light in front of them. 

He stiffens up when you move to his body, gently touching his shoulder and arms. His muscles are hard, and there are visible black veins beneath his skin. And to your surprise, his skin is actually warm.

“Your muscle density is insane,” you mutter, then move down to his hips, “But it’s almost nonexistent down here…”

“You makin’ fun of me or somethin’?” he snarls.

“No! Absolutely not. I’m just observing is all. Your body is remarkable.”

“Remarkable… tsk.”

As you examine his hips, you can’t help but wonder if he’s still capable of reproduction. Do his reproductive organs still even function? His blood flow is normal, his heartbeat is very slow for human standards, but otherwise he seems to have kept most of his human functionality. So you can’t help but wonder if infected people like him still even feel sexual desire at all. Is there a reason to? So far you’ve only seen them react to hunger. So if that’s all that matters to them, then maybe the instinct to reproduce isn’t needed anymore.

“Why’re you starin’ at me like that?” he breaks the silence, drawing you out of the deep thought you were in.

“S-Sorry! I was just thinking of what to ask you next…”

“Well get on with it, I’m gettin’ hungry,” he smirks, knowing that statement will strike fear into you. 

You gulp, “Um.. earlier today when I was looking for you, there was an infected person looking right at me. But they didn’t attack; they just… stared. Do you know why?”

“Cuz I didn’t want ‘em to attack you,” he says plainly, like this is something you should already know.

“I don’t understand… are you trying to say you can control them?”

“Duh,” he leans in closer like he’s telling you a secret, “I could see you through his eyes. That’s how I was able to find you so fast.”

Your mind is blown by a single sentence, crushing everything you thought you knew about how the infected behaved. 

“Wait, so the others obey you. Like a social hierarchy?"

“I dunno what that word means. But I don’t control everything they do. Just when I want to, and they listen.”

“That’s amazing… I never expected monsters to be so complex.”

“Monsters?” he frowns, “You call us monsters?”

“Th-that’s not what I meant! I’m sorry-” you desperately try to correct your mistake but he cuts you off.

“You have the audacity to call us monsters, when humans are the real monsters,” he growls and gets closer to your face, enough for you to smell the blood on his breath. 

“Y’know what I found last week? Two girls, sisters, no older than fifteen, locked in a fuckin’ storage container in a camp of men I found in the 4th ward,” you see a flicker of genuine emotion in his eyes, “You wanna know what the men were using those girls for?”

“I-I…” you stutter, not able to bring yourself to say it out loud.

“I ain’t even gotta say it. Cuz you already know, don’t you? Cuz it’s human behavior right?” he scoffs, “So you know what I told those girls? I told ‘em you ain’t never gotta worry about a man doin’ somethin’ to you ever again. And I turned ‘em.”

His frown turns into a big smile, showing off his deadly teeth, “And you know what they did? They devoured every man in that group. Every man that’s ever hurt ‘em. I gave them the power they didn’t have as humans. So before you call me a monster, think about what your people have done. If you ask me, humans are the real monsters in this world. Always have been.”

You’re left speechless. You have been so busy trying to save humanity that you never stopped to consider the other side of things.

After a long, uncomfortable silence, you finally respond, “You did the right thing…”

He leans back and rolls his fingers through his hair, taking a deep breath and shaking his head. He seems genuinely shaken and enraged by that memory.

“How are they now? The girls,” you ask quietly.

His eyes widen, seemingly surprised that you asked, “They’re good. Strong, happy, together. Better than they were before, that’s for sure. My sister sometimes goes over to their territory to braid their hair or do whatever shit girls do.”

“That’s sweet,” you smile. You thought they were all just mindless zombies like in the movies, but it seems there’s so much more about them that you don’t yet know. “And you’re right… lots of humans are monsters. And I’m sorry I judged you.”

“It’s fine, I ain't mad or anythin’,” he smiles, a soft genuine one, “I just care about eatin’ when I’m hungry and protectin’ my sister. We aren’t fuckin’ animals like humans are.”

He gets closer again, putting his hand on your knee, “Like you’re a pretty lady. Real smart and nice too. Would I like to have sex with you? Hell yeah. But you don’t see me holding you down and forcing you to do it with me even though I could. Maybe I’m a monster to some, but-”

“I’ll have sex with you,” you say almost too quickly for you to fully process what you just said. 

“Wh-what? No I-I… I was just saying! I didn’t mean it like that!” he quickly tries to backtrack, putting his hands up and backing away from you, “It ain’t like that! I was just tryin’ to make a point!”

“But you said you wanted to have sex with me… so why not? Let’s do it,” you shrug and start unbuttoning your lab coat. Just not giving a fuck anymore.

You’ve been through so much ever since the world as you knew it came to an end, and the offer of an intimate evening with someone you actually enjoy being around sounds like a nice break.

“What the hell is wrong with you, Y/N!” he grabs your coat and pulls it closed.

“Sorry… we don’t have to if you don’t want to-”

“N-No no I do want to! I just… I don’t understand why you would want to do it with me.”

“I’m lonely and I like you,” you shrug, “It’s the fucking apocalypse. I could be dead tomorrow. So I might as well take every opportunity I can to feel something… any bit of happiness I can.”

His gaze softens. He understands. He hasn’t really had to fear for his life like you have, but he understands the loneliness. The way every human has looked at him like he’s the most disgusting creature on the planet. Even before he was infected, people looked at him that way.

And now he has you. Someone who looks at him like he’s actually worth something, and listens like every word he speaks is valuable.

A little bit of pleasure in a zombie apocalypse isn’t so much to ask.

“Fuck it,” he blurts out, wrapping his arm around your waist, hauling you up over his shoulder and standing.

“Wh-what’re you doing?” you panic.

“You wanna have sex on the floor of a filthy subway station? I know it’s the end of the world, but I can think of a few better places than this.”

You can’t help but smile. A genuine, excited smile. 

It’s the first time in weeks that you actually get to feel something for yourself. Something exciting and fun, with another person. And for the time being, you get to forget that the world around you has ended. 

Because all that matters in this moment is Gyutaro.

The end of the world happened fast. Faster than you or anyone had expected. 

Maybe you took the strength of humanity for granted. Or maybe someone was working behind the scenes to make sure the virus spread as efficiently as possible. 

Either way, analyzing how everything came to an end isn’t your job. 

Your job is to figure out how the pathogen behaves.

Before everything collapsed, you just happened to be in the right place at the right time. At the top university in the country, studying to get your Ph.D in pathology. 

Most people left when the public started to panic. Professors, doctors, industry professionals who abandoned their jobs to take care of their families. Those who were left were either extremely dedicated or students like yourself who had nowhere else to go. 

Lucky for you, the government took any researcher, doctor, or scientist, regardless of experience or degree, once everything collapsed. Humanity needed anyone who was healthy enough to research the disease and hopefully develop a cure. 

That’s how you got here. In a heavily guarded research facility run by the government. Or what’s left of it. 

It’s only been three weeks since the apocalypse started.

Every hospital and emergency service was overrun within the first three days. Quarantine zones lasted just over a week. All that remained now were a few military outposts and groups of civilians who had gotten lucky and managed to survive.

Though survivor numbers are decreasing by the day. 

You don’t even want to know what it looks like outside these walls. You spend your days studying tissue samples and doing experiments. On good days you get five hours of sleep; on bad days you get maybe thirty minutes. But at least you aren’t on the streets running from reanimated corpses.

You would do anything to be able to safely get close to a live specimen. There are so many questions left unanswered, and your curiosity outweighs your survival instinct. If only you could get close to one, it could answer so many questions.

But a live specimen is out of the question. Because they are too strong, and no weakness other than sunlight has been identified. 

They don’t speak, nor do they seem capable of complex thought. Only hunger and instinct. Going after humans the instant they catch sight or scent of them. They are incredibly fast and durable. You’ve seen them take bullets to the head and still remain alive.

However, discovering how to kill them isn’t your job, so you don’t think too hard about it. You’ve already accepted the fact that if this facility ever gets infiltrated, you will die. 

In the middle of disposing of contaminated tissue samples, you are pulled into a meeting. The room is filled with military personnel, the lead researcher, and you. 

Sergeant Sanemi, a man with short white hair and tired eyes, stands at the front of the room.

“I’ll get straight to the point,” he says sternly and turns on a projector, “We’ve captured photos of an anomaly.”

A blurry image flashes onto the screen. It’s dark but you can clearly make out two figures standing at the top of a building. A muscular man crouching, holding something sharp in one hand. And a woman standing beside him with long hair flowing behind her. Both of their eyes glow in the night.

“Infected?” Doctor Shinobu, your superior, asks.

“Yes, but they’re different,” he says, “They seem… intelligent.”

“That’s impossible,” she scoffs, “The infected have never shown any signs of intelligence.”

“Not until now,” he responds, “These two seem to be able to communicate and organize attacks.”

He clicks a button and another image is shown. Still blurry, but it shows the male figure leaning over a body, tearing flesh from a severed arm. You feel like you’re gonna throw up if you look at the image for too long. 

“It’s imperative that we learn more about these… these monsters. Because if they have an advanced version of the virus, we need to get any information we can.”

“You need a field researcher…” you mutter, “to collect a sample.”

“Yes. Do you think that will be viable?”

“I do,” you nod and glance at the photo again, “The body that he’s eating… if I can get a tissue or blood sample from that body then maybe I can learn more about him. If he carries a different form of the pathogen and contaminated that body, then maybe I could-”

“Absolutely not,” Shinobu interrupts, “It’s a death sentence to send you out there. You’re one of the most brilliant researchers we have. We can’t afford to lose you.”

“I won’t send her alone,” Sanemi rolls his eyes, “I’ll send her with a squad of soldiers. Two squads if that makes you feel better.”

No matter how much Doctor Shinobu protested, there’s no arguing with Sanemi once his mind is set on something. Besides, you want to go. It’s probably against your better judgment but nothing has gotten you this excited since civilization fell. There are so many possibilities, so many new discoveries to be made. Your curiosity outweighs your fear. 

꒷︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶︶︶꒦

You’re sent out the following day at dusk. Two armored vehicles and 24 men with tactical gear and a ton of firepower. Meanwhile, you sit between them in your lab coat with a bag of supplies. Their only objective is to get you safely to the location and protect you while you gather a sample from the corpse that the man from the photo was feeding on. 

You just pray that the corpse hasn’t gotten up and walked away. 

“We’re here,” the man driving the vehicle says, “Try to get everything you need as fast as you can; the longer we stay out here, the longer we risk the infected catching our scent. 

“Y-Yes sir,” your voice trembles as you’re ushered out of the vehicle and onto the street. Dozens of men surround you, moving with trained efficiency towards the ruined intersection from the photo. 

But something feels off.

The corpse you are looking for is there, lying motionless right where you expected it to be. But there are no other bodies around it. It looks too perfect, almost as if it was staged. 

“What’re you waiting for?!” one of the men says, his voice full of panic.

Before you even have time to respond, the sound of gunfire fills the air. Screaming, panic, blood. Lots of blood. 

“Aim for its head!” you hear one man scream.

“There’s two-” another man says before his screams are interrupted by the sound of gurgling.

Without a weapon, all you can do is run. 

You scurry through the broken window of a nearby storefront and duck behind a collapsed bookshelf. Holding your hand over your mouth as you listen to the carnage taking place behind you. 

“Please… please don’t…” you hear a man beg for mercy.

“C’mon man,” a sickly, male voice rasps, “Aren’t you s’pose to be the captain or somethin’? Pretty pathetic to be beggin’ like that…”

“That one looks important,” a female voice says.

“Yeeeah… he does,” the sickly voice speaks again, “How bout this. If you can sit here and watch me eat all your friends without cryin’, screamin’, or throwin’ up. I’ll let you live!” He lets out a high pitched laugh, sadistic and cruel.

“Brother, stop wasting time! You always play with them!” the female shrills in annoyance. 

“You’re no fun.”

You hear the captain begging for his life, desperate and crying. The sound dies off agonizingly slowly. As if his death is being drawn out. You can’t see what’s happening but you hear the sound of blood trickling onto the pavement and flesh being torn apart. 

“Your arrogance is going to get us killed one day,” the female says.

The male growls before responding, “Don’t you get it? We’re at the top of the food chain sis! We can do whatever the hell we want-” he abruptly stops talking and deeply inhales. 

“There’s one left…” he continues.

“Fuck fuck fuck, no no please no,” you internally scream to yourself.

Things go eerily quiet. Then, footsteps getting closer.

“Found you,” a raspy voice whispers right beside your ear. 

He grabs you by the collar of your shirt and pulls you off the ground, your feet dangling in the air as he holds you in front of him. 

He’s definitely an infected. Pallad grey skin, glowing yellow eyes, and teeth that almost resemble that of a shark. Messy green hair hangs in front of his face. His lips are turned into a devilish grin, like a child who just found a new toy to play with.

But before you can scream, you notice something that excites you.

The way his pupils contract when stepping into the light. 

“Your eyes,” you mutter, “They still respond to light!”

“...what?” the smile drops from his face immediately.

“You still exhibit biological functions even though you’re dead!” you laugh in disbelief.

He’s completely silent. In utter disbelief that you aren’t kicking and screaming. He literally doesn’t know what the hell to make of this.

“You’re extraordinary!” you say, looking at him in awe. Not like he’s a monster, but rather something beautiful and interesting. 

“Extraordinary…?” he mumbles, dropping you. 

As soon as you hit the ground you reach for something in your pocket. He expects a gun, but instead it’s a small notebook and a pen. Furiously, you begin taking notes. 

“I think you broke her,” his sister says, also in disbelief. 

“Did it hurt?” you ask him.

“Wh-what?”

“When you got shot, did it hurt?”

“Kinda? For a second,” he shrugs before getting annoyed and flicking your forehead, “What the hell is wrong with you? Are you stupid or somethin’?”

“What? N-No, I’m a pathologist,” you answer him almost like you’re talking to a normal person.

“Speak English, please…”

“A scientist,” you correct yourself, “I study disease.”

His grin returns, and he starts laughing. Genuinely laughing like he’s heard the funniest joke in the world. “A scientist! Haha, what am I to you? Some kinda test subject?”

“Well, yes. I would love to study you further…”

“Can you believe this, sis? What an interesting little toy,” he grabs your face and squishes your cheeks like you’re a child.

“She’s cute too,” his sister giggles before skipping over, “You gonna kill her?”

“Nah,” he turns your face side to side, looking you over, “This one is… interesting.”

You don’t say anything, not wanting to risk him changing his mind. But you can’t help but smile at the thought of being left alive. 

“You better hurry back to wherever you came from, little scientist,” he lets go of your face and ruffles your hair, “Cuz my friends ain’t as polite as I am.”

“Th-Thank you,” your voice shakes in disbelief as he actually spares you.

“Yeah, yeah. Til next time,” he grins as his sister hops up on his shoulder. 

And as they walk into the distance, he isn’t worried, not one bit. Because he knows he’ll see you again. And he knows that he’s too valuable to you for you to let anyone hurt him. Because you didn’t try to get away. You didn’t scream. You didn’t beg for your life. 

You took notes. And you asked him questions. 

You valued your research above your own life.

She likes to invite you to many hangouts when she's free-- although, since she's a hashira it's rare but common.

Speaking of hangouts, Mitsuris' favorite kinds, no surprise, are anything related to getting food. She loves to eat, it's her love language. Whenever you guys get some food, she usually hopes that she can share some with you but sometimes forgets before she's bought another few plates of the same or different dish.

She likes to grab your interest with little things. Talking about how pretty the flowers are alongside the road, or something like that.

Mitsuri is very clumsy, but not a idiotic type where she'd trip over air or run into a wall easily. It's more or less a 'realizing her mistake last minute' type. She'll confidently say or do something believing she's done the correct action before her face get warm from realizing her mistake.

Mitsuri: "(Y/N), (Y/N)! I heard you liked flowers, so I bought you these!"

(Y/N): "Thank you, Kanroji-san, but for what occasion?"

Mitsuri: "What do you mean? It's your birthday, silly!"

(Y/N): "..my birthday is next week."

Mitsuri: "oh"

Mitsuri often found herself thinking and worrying about your well being. She honestly tried to convince herself that it was totally platonic and nothing was going on between you both, but the more she thought about it the more she realized she wanted to live with you.

Her confession was very stuttery and messy. It was clear that she was struggling with her emotions for some time, beforehand.

Actually, Mitsuri had to back out of the confession a few times. She tried to do it casually while at lunch together, than again when you guys had breakfast at her estate, than one last time when she rescued/helped you.

It was difficult for her to get the words out because usually she was put in the position of being match made with someone, not allowing herself to have the decision to choose.

Her confession is very quick and like a zigzag, moving between the lines of 'i want to be yours' and 'maybe this is all in my head and we're actually just friends after all.' She's very nervous about what your thoughts are, making her very fast to back out if she notices the smallest uncomfortable look on your face or voice. Although she'll break down into tears when you admit you've been feeling the same way.

Dating Stage

If you're in the demon slayer corp: She is so very attached to you-- hoping that the both of you guys would be paired for commissions to hunt down the demons. Whenever you guys aren't she often worries and sends many letters your way.. even if it's only for a day or two.

Mitsuri is actually very assertive and protective when someone's emotions or life is on the line. Who many people believed to just be a 'ditzy airhead' will put herself in front of you if it means she's protecting you.

To add on, whenever you're sad and upset, she gets very sad too. She's an empath-- she'll feel all the emotions you're feeling which is how she understands you're situation a little better. It begins with her talking to you and telling you how good a person you truly are: beautiful, caring, strong-willed and so much more than what people think. Than it turns into her trying to distract you with a activity.

Mitsuri: "please don't cry.. I think you're pretty on bad days and good ones, equally.."

(Y/N): "..but.."

Mitsuri: "No, no, no.. It doesn't matter what they said about you. It's not true. I see you for who you are, and you're so much more than what they think."

(Y/N): "..really?"

Mitsuri: "Yeah! If it'll make you feel better, we can go talk a walk or have a picnic to get your mind off things.."

She gets so excited to see you. Even if you guys were apart for only an hour.

Mitsuri has so many dreams and ambitions, always sharing what's on her mind with you. Of course, one of those dreams is to have a traditional Japanese wedding where you'd both be beside one another.

She likes to play with your hair AND when you play with hers, she melts. Imaginably, if you had longer hair she tends to braid it.

She still gets nervous about certain topics of intimacy. Sleeping in the same bed, cuddling and holding each other. Her face will be incredibly warm and her body sweaty. It'll take her awhile to find a position of sleep that doesn't make it awkward but also let's her snuggle up against you.

The letters she sends are constant, always making sure you don't worry about her absence as a hashira. That being said, Mitsuri gets impatient when she doesn't receive letters back... After only an hour of sending her own. She'll try really hard to distract herself from it, but the worry builds up so much!

REQUEST: "Could we get some Mitsuri Kanroji headcanons please. SFW is cool."

it's close to five in the morning when your door violently slides open and he stumbles into your room, hand slamming against the wooden doorframe. his fingers claw at the wood, digging in desperately just to keep his knees from buckling under his own weight while he breathes unevenly, the light emanating from the candles on your side making him flinch and groan like a frightened animal.

you startle, dropping the cloth you’ve been mending. "gyutaro?!”

lucky for him, sleep has been the last thing on your mind tonight. you're still in your kakushi under robe, hunched over your uniform and cleaning the stains left behind from yesterday’s cleanup. a lower rank demon had left a carnage of blood and debris just outside your village, and you’ve worked long into the night scrubbing the last of it away from your clothes.

you stand quickly, your heart missing a beat because gyutaro would never, ever risk coming to you this close to sunrise under normal circumstances. you close the distance and reach out, pressing your palms against his cheek.

"what are you doing here!? the sun is about to rise, you shouldn't be—"

“get your filthy hands off me!" he snarls, jerking his face away so violently he stumbles. he winces at the volume of his own voice, his jaw tightening as a fresh wave of pain strikes him. he glares at you through bloodshot eyes, lips curling into a snarl. "don't touch me.”

you flinch, taking an instinctive step back. "I…” you swallow nervously, looking him up and down. “gyutaro, you can barely stand.”

"shut up! just... shut up.” he hunches over. “...it hurts." he continues, the words slurring slightly as he struggles to keep himself upright. “my goddamn head…it won't stop.”

you frown. from the brief contact you managed to catch before he pulled away, his skin had indeed felt clammy and a little too warm under your palm. slowly, keeping your movements entirely visible so you don't startle him, you lift your hand back up.

"may I..? so I can check for a fever."

gyutaro glares at your hand, his chest heaving with ragged breaths like he’s ready to snap at you again - but the sheer exhaustion of fighting the pain wins out. with a resentful click of his tongue he jerks his chin in a barely perceptible nod before looking away as you gently press your knuckles against his forehead.

"where does it hurt?" you ask softly, withdrawing. he's warm, but nothing alarming.

gyutaro hisses at the question, the heel of his palm coming to press hard into his eye socket. his nails dig deep into his brows until crimson wells under his fingertips, but you’re quick to catch his wrist and pry his hand away before he can tear himself open and stain your carpet with demon blood. you cup his face again, forcing his frantic eyes to meet yours so you can check his pupils. gyutaro leans into your touch for a split second before trying to pull himself away again in vain, his eyes fluttering close as he tries to focus through the relentless throbbing in his skull.

“this looks like a bad migraine." you observe, brushing your thumb along the ridge of his cheekbone, a soft stroke meant to ground him.

"no." his eyes dart to yours, frantic. his tone sharpens, panic rising like bile. “demons don't get headaches, you stupid girl. we don't get sick like you pathetic humans do! don't lump me in with your kind."

the sight of him twists something deep in your chest. your gaze drifts around the room looking for anything that might help, when a realization suddenly dawns on you.

because he caught you off guard, you didn't get the chance to properly cover his scent. the layer of burnt wood ash, herbs and powders you usually scatter around so carefully whenever he visits - tonight, none of it is in place. not even a single remaining trace of ash from last time.

if anyone passes close enough to your door, if any demon slayer with a keen nose or good intuition happens to walk by…

“fuck…” your hands shake as you scramble toward your small chest of drawers, yanking it open and fumbling through the contents. vials clink softly as you shove them aside, looking for incense, candles or dried herbs - anything that might help mask his scent.

you move on instinct now, scattering whatever you find across the floor near the door and onto the windowsill. you look back over your shoulder, trying to keep both you and himself from freaking out. "...did you— did you share your vision with daki longer than usual today?” you ask, forcing a steady tone even as your heart hammers. “you always say how much of a toll that takes on you, if you were looking through her eyes for hours then—”

“no! no, no, no, you don’t fucking get it, do you?! it's him." he snarls. “it has to be.” he stumbles back a step, clutching at his head again. his eyes flick weakly around the room, every shadow suddenly suspicious. “he's punishing me… fryin’ my brain from the inside out ‘cause I’ve gotten soft.” his eyes cut toward you, bloodshot and furious. “this… this is all your fault! I haven’t slaughtered enough of you worthless little insects and now he’s making me pay for it.”

you close the distance again, reaching out to hold his face firmly in between your palms. if it were anyone else, he would have torn them to pieces for even daring to step into his personal space.

“listen to me. no one is punishing you, gyutaro.” you say, searching his eyes. “you're not burning up and your skin is regenerating just fine. I know you think demons don't get migraines, but you aren't just any ordinary demon, are you? think about it." your voice softens. "you share a body with your sister and you constantly have to split your own vision to watch over her. it makes sense that all that strain is finally catching up to you." you wrap your arms around his neck, catching him off guard. "it’ll pass. you just have to rest, okay? I wish I could do more and fix it for you, but there's nothing I can give you. my herbs don't do anything for a body like yours. I heal humans, not demons.”

gyutaro lets out a sound that’s half a snarl, half a pained whine. he stiffens when you hug him, his arms staying stubbornly at his sides as he fights the urge to either collapse or tear your throat out - until his forehead finally drops heavily against your shoulder.

"dumb... stupid human.” he rasps into your neck, his voice trembling. "if you tell anyone... if you think you're better than me because of this... i'll slice you into a thousand little pieces."

"I won't tell anyone, and I don't think i'm better than you." you promise, your hand sliding up to comb through his tangled, greasy green and black hair. "just come lie down with me for a bit, okay? you're overwhelmed. you need rest."

you lift his chin gently, guiding his face up toward yours to press a slow, careful kiss to the center of his brow right where the pain throbs. his skin is grimy beneath your lips, streaked with dust and sweat and the stubborn greasy sheen he always carries after nights spent lurking through alleys and filth-ridden streets, but you've long since stopped flinching from his hygiene and smell.

gyutaro exhales a shockingly small sound as he folds into you, his nails clutching the fabric of your clothes, wrinkling and staining it with dark smears you’ll have to scrub out in the morning.

you guide him toward your futon, each step more unsteady than the last as he leans more of his weight against you. the moment he feels the soft cushions beneath him, his resistance finally gives way - his forehead pressing deep into the crook of your neck as gravity pulls him down with you.

his arms slip around your waist and you lean over him to reach the bedside candle, blowing it out with one quick breath and plunging the room into complete darkness.

for a long minute, the only sound your hear is the shallow rasp of his breathing against your neck, making you assume he’s already drifted off to sleep.

but then gyutaro breaks the silence.

"...daki's an idiot without me." he mumbles. "she can't do anything right on her own, this stupid brat. if somethin’ happens to me— if any of those damn pillars lay a hand on her because I'm lying here... I'll take every single person in this village down with me. i'll slaughter every last one of 'em.”

your hand slides from his hair to the back of his neck, rubbing in slow, reassuring circles. “that won't happen.” you murmur, pressing your cheek against his temple. “give it a few hours and you'll be back on your feet. you’ll walk out of here when it passes, and you’ll go right back to your sister. just close your eyes and rest now.”

gyutaro’s breathing slowly but surely evens out as your fingers comb through his filthy hair. the dull, pulsating ache in his head is still very much there - his eyes remaining stubbornly open for a long time, pupils darting toward the shadows at every microscopic creak of the room. but the gentle repetitive stroke of your fingers against his scalp eventually act like an anchor, the tension slowly bleeding out of his body. his grip on your waist loosens just enough that his nails stop threatening to tear through the fabric, his forehead staying tucked safely against your throat.

you feel the exact moment exhaustion drags him under, his weight settling more heavily on top of you until he goes completely slack.

you hold still, listening to the slow inhale and exhale of his breathing. despite how late it is, you don’t dare close your eyes. your hand remains in his hair for the next hour or so, stroking faintly enough so that you don't wake him but with enough firmness to help ease the lingering pain in his skull.

and somewhere past the shutters, the sky begins to clear.

carefully, you slip one arm from beneath gyutaro’s head and ease out from under him, sliding a pillow into the space where your chest had been. you crouch beside the futon for a moment, watching him and pressing a tender kiss to his forehead. in the darkness he looks almost entirely human again, his lips parted slightly, long lashes resting against grimy cheekbones. you can't help but reach out to sweep your thumb gently beneath his eye.

but then a faint ray of sunshine touches the edge of the curtain, and your heart leaps into your throat.

if you don’t do something now, he’ll burn.

you push yourself up and cross the room swiftly, grabbing the heavy curtains and dragging them completely shut with a sharp tug of both hands, overlapping the thick fabric until not a single thread of light can slip into the room. you double check the corners, pressing the material flat against the wooden frames with your palms to make absolutely sure - and it's only when the room is cast back into a pure pitch black that you allow yourself to breathe, returning to his side and lowering your exhausted body back onto the futon.

you brush a stray strand of tangled hair away from his closed eyes and settle close to him, wrapping your arm back over his thin waist.

for a brief moment you're just relieved that he's safe, but it isn't long before the reality of your situation hits.

while the sun isn't a problem anymore… there's an upper moon sleeping soundly in your bed.

in a few hours, the safe house will be awake. there'll be fellow kakushis moving back and forth just outside your room, and you could be called away for first aid or cleanup duties on nearby battlefields.

by some divine miracle, you'll have to get through the entire day with gyutaro hidden inside this room, kept out of the sunlight and out of sight while making sure his scent stays covered well enough that nobody suspects a thing.

the thought sits heavy in your chest, making it hard to breathe. you press a little closer to him, trying to find comfort in the steady rise and fall of his breathing.

gyutaro's arm tightens protectively around your waist, and for now... it’s enough to keep you from spiraling.

by the time you step out of the bathroom he’s already made himself comfortable on your bed, sprawled across it like he owns the space and taking up more room than he should.

you pause in the doorway.

gyutaro lifts his head and props himself up on his elbows, the bedsprings creaking softly beneath him.

“...what the fuck.” he deadpans.

“shhh!” you snap, glaring toward the door as if your parents could be right outside. “you want my mom barging in here?”

he shuts up, but with you standing there practically half-naked in your brand new cheer uniform, keeping it down is kind of the last thing on gyutaro’s mind. hell, the sight is enough to make him want to bend you over and hear you scream.

it's a newer cut; tighter across the chest, the top cropped enough to show a sliver of your stomach with a pleated skirt shorter than your old one. short enough to flash the underside of your ass when you move.

you notice his staring and twirl the skirt a little.

“...coach wanted updated looks.”

“yeah? well, coach’s gettin’ beat the fuck up.” he mumbles, sitting up and scooting closer to the edge. “come here, let me see.”

you huff but don’t make him wait. you cross the room to stand between his spread legs, looking down at him as when pulls you closer, his hands sliding up to grab a handful of your ass.

“barely covers anything.” he grumbles.

“I think it's cute.” you shrug. “I was growing tired of the piss yellow skirt.”

“it's not cute. every asshole on campus is gonna fucking drool when they see you.” he mumbles, trailing kisses along the exposed skin of your stomach. “and all I’m thinkin’ about is how I’m gonna have to smash their faces in and then come up with some excuse for why I did it.”

you scoff.

“okay, first of all nobody drools when they look at—”

“yeah, they do.” he cuts you off. “saw that one idiot— what’s his name, kogai, kyogai? whatever— quarterback dipshit, starin’ at your ass so hard the other day I thought his eyeballs were gonna pop out of his skull. and you weren't even wearing the damn uniform.”

his hand slips beneath your skirt, fingers hooking into the pad of your underwear to ease it aside. your protest dies in your throat, fingers carding through his hair like muscle memory at this point, watching as he eases you back and lowers himself in front of you. next thing you know he's lifting the skirt out of the way and his mouth is on you - lips pressing slow, sloppy kisses against your clit, tongue flicking out to tease. your hips give a startled little jerk in response, a soft sound slipping out before you can stop it.

your grip tightens in his hair, knuckles white, and gyutaro responds with a low approving hum before his lips close around your clit, sucking just enough to make your thighs tense then pulling away far too soon with a quiet pop. his mouth is already shiny, lips slicked with you as he looks up, and that smug little glint in his eyes nearly finishes you on its own.

“see how easy that was? that skirt barely does its job. way too damn short.”

your fingertips trail over his cheeks even as your eyes roll in annoyance - your thumb tracing the sharp line of his jaw and lingering there for half a second before your hand slides right back into his hair as he dives in again, his tongue venturing lower. your hips start rolling against his mouth on their own accord now, and it takes all the effort in the world to get the following words out;

“fuck—” you gasp. “okay— enough, stop.”

gyutaro lets out an amused little chuckle when you push at his head, rising to his feet only to flop back against your bed with that stupid grin plastered on his face. he looks way too comfortable there, letting out a satisfied groan and lacing his fingers behind his head like he’s just finished a workout.

“jesus, you're— you're such a pervert! all you ever think about is sex.” you mutter, trying to smooth your skirt down even though your thighs are still shaking. your panties snap back into place, hiding the mess he’s made of you.

he snorts, not even fazed.

“like you're any better. you take every opportunity to sit on my dick.”

you roll your eyes and cast a worried glance over your door. “I don’t even know why I let you in here.”

“cause you like me.” he fires back instantly, not even giving you room to deny it. his grin only widens when your mouth opens and shuts without a comeback. “see?”

“I tolerate you.” you correct. “barely.”

gyutaro grins, pushing himself upright again. “I’ll take it. gotta start somewhere.” his eyes flick back to yours, softer now, less smug. he pushes himself upright again. “I didn’t think you’d even tolerate me this long.”

you hesitate just for a moment before stepping closer again, settling back in the space between his knees like it’s the most natural thing in the world. his hands find the backs of your thighs to pull you closer, his lips finding the valley of your breasts, pressing soft kisses there.

the closeness makes your heart stutter, a small, reluctant smile tugging at your lips before you can stop it. your fingers drift into his hair again almost on instinct and he glances at you again, softer than before.

“…thanks for not kickin’ me out.”

you swallow, suddenly hyperaware of how close you are. “mhh…don’t get used to it.”

gyutaro smiles, just a soft quirk of his lips. “yeah. wouldn’t wanna push my luck.”

inevitably your lips find the corner of his mouth, your fingertips shifting to trace the ink-like birthmarks along the planes of his cheeks when your lips find each other fully. you barely have time to lose yourself in it when you feel the hint of a smirk pressing against your kiss.

“...what’s so funny?”

“nothing.”

there’s something smug tucked in it, an expression of pure content he doesn’t bother hiding as his eyes flick over your face. before you can say anything else, he grips your waist and pulls you onto him in one smooth motion. you gasp is cut short as his mouth crashes back onto yours, firmer now, claiming. you settle into his lap willingly, legs sliding to either side of him as the kiss turns needy, your arms winding tight around his neck.

gyutaro’s mouth drifts down the curve of your throat when the need for air becomes too pressing to ignore, each press of his lips so loud in the quiet of your room, little smacks of heat that make you shiver as you tilt your head back to grant him every bit of access he seems intent on taking. your hips start to move before you even realize it, a slow, subtle grind born purely from instinct. it’s barely anything, subtle at first - but it’s enough to draw a low sound from gyutaro’s chest, his cock visibly starting to strain in the confines of his pants.

there’s a voice in the back of your mind screaming at you to calm down, to stop being so damn needy, and for a fleeting second you actually try. but then his mouth is back on yours, claiming you with a fervour that instantly drowns out reason.

his hands cup your neck, thumbs brushing against your throat feeling the way your pulse races under his touch. his mouth hovers over yours when he parts, brushing but not quite kissing as he breaks the silence - a desperate confession spoken directly against your swollen lips.

“...wanna be inside you.” he rasps. “wanna fuck you right here.”

a shiver runs through you, your tongue darting out to lick across his mouth as you pant into him, shallow, greedy breaths mingling between kisses. your hands slide down to grasp his wrists, holding onto him to steady yourself, though his words alone have already knocked the strength from your legs.

then, reluctantly, you guide him away with a gentle push.

“no, I...— don't start. we can’t.”

gyutaro drags you right back against him, pressing you flush to his chest, his arms strong and unyielding. "why not? you can be quiet."

he slides a hand down to the hem of your skirt and slips his fingers beneath the fabric with a deft flick of his wrist, his calloused fingers gliding over the smooth skin of your inner thigh. higher and higher he strokes until he's brushing against your clothed sex, already wet from the buildup. he watches, transfixed as you bite down on your lips and press your forehead to his - your fingers reaching out to splay across his jaw while your hips start grinding again.

"yeah, just like that… see?” gyutaro breathes, rubbing slow, teasing circles where you need him most. "nice and quiet.”

he takes his time, enjoying the way your body undulates against his palm, your breathy whimpers and soft mewls like they're music to his ears. his fingers press harder, the fabric of your panties creating the most delicious friction as he strokes along your slit.

eventually gyutaro shifts you off his lap and onto the bed, his hands already moving impatiently as he slips them under your skirt and peels your underwear down your thighs, letting it fall to your ankles. a soft groan leaves him when he feels how wet you are, his thumb circling your clit before pulling away far too soon, leaving you trembling.

he’s rushed, almost clumsy with need as he grabs your hips and tugs you closer, your lips crashing together.

“mph— fuck, not here—” you manage to speak in between kisses. “too noisy.” you add, the bed springs creaking as if on cue.

within seconds gyutaro is back on his feet, rough hands gripping your hips as he steers you across the room. the edge of your desk bumps the back of your thighs and you hoist yourself onto it, pens clattering quietly to the floor.

his body slots between your legs instantly, the solid press of him making your pulse stutter. your skirt is already shoved up around your waist when he shoves his pants down and proceeds to close a hand around his cock to guide himself into place. he doesn’t push in yet— only gives a few teasing thrusts at first, gliding the slick tip of his cock along your slit and grazing your clit again and again until your hips start twitching helplessly, every nerve screaming for more.

then he’s lining himself up properly, the tip pressing insistently at your entrance before he starts to push forward.

he takes his time with it, sliding into you inch by inch, making you feel every bit of him as you stretch around his length. the fullness builds slowly until he’s seathed all the way inside you, your body acutely aware of every thick, hard ridge of his cock as he works his way deeper, carving out a path for himself inside you.

“fuck— gyutaro—”

he cuts you off by crashing his mouth into yours, swallowing the broken gasp with a messy kiss. you’re both panting into it, breaths mingling, lips barely keeping pace as they brush and part again, tongues flicking out to taste one another between ragged pulls of air. his forehead presses to yours for half a second, a low sound tearing out of him before he starts to move with deep, steady rolls of his hips - each thrust brushing that spot inside you that makes your vision blur.

whatever ache there’d been at the start is long gone, replaced with a burning need for more, harder, deeper. you hear yourself whimpering it into his mouth, his hips snapping forward repeatedly in response.

the desk beneath you starts to rattle under the rhythm he sets, wood creaking in protest as he fucks you, the filthy sounds of skin on skin filling your otherwise quiet bedroom. his hips slap against yours over and over and you cling to him just to stay upright, fingers digging into his shoulders, fisting in his hair, grabbing at anything you can reach like the only thing holding you together is him.

you hate that he makes you feel like this.

it gnaws at you just how much you ache for his touch when just a few weeks ago you were snickering behind his back with the other cheerleaders - and now you find yourself with your legs spread wide on your desk in your room, letting him fuck you and chasing his mouth like you’ll starve if you don’t taste him again.

it’s infuriating how badly you need him when you swore you couldn’t stand him.

every kiss turns into panting breaths against each other’s mouths, tongues flicking, chasing, pulling away only to crash back together like neither of you can stand the space.

“fuck—” gyutaro’s voice breaks into a whine, his forehead pressing to yours. “you feel so fuckin’ good—ah—so warm, fuck, i missed you—”

you panic at how loud he’s getting, your hand snapping up to clap over his mouth again. “shut up— sh-shut the fuck up, gyutaro,” you whimper, eyes darting to the door. so much for staying quiet. he groans against your palm, eyes rolling back, the sound vibrating against your palm as his hips stutter. it’s a pathetic sight, really. and it only makes you wetter.

one of his hands snakes down, wedging between your bodies until his thumb finds your clit. he circles it desperately, his breathing hot and frantic against your hand, half-lidded eyes watching you as your breasts bounce and sway with each thrust.

“c-come on,” he pants when you loosen your grip on his mouth, his words tumbling out fast. “need you to… ngh—need you to come for me, ‘kay? please. give it to me. c'mon. fuckin' soak my dick.” the way he says it makes your stomach twist. he whines when your hips jolt, your body giving in, walls starting to clench rhythmically around his cock.

“i’m coming,” you pant, tears pricking your eyes as you nod. you’re whining nonstop now, words tumbling over each other, needy sobs escaping as the sound of skin slapping against skin fills your room, a dangerously loud soundtrack to your pleasure. “I'm coming, i'm coming, i'm coming—”

you hand finally drops fully from his mouth and gyutaro catches your lips again instantly, kissing you so messily it’s almost just teeth and breath.

your orgasm crashes over you - muscles seizing and body convulsing as you squirt across his stomach and the length of his cock, embarrassed but mostly too cockdrunk to even care at this point.

gyutaro pulls out to wrap a hand around himself and stroke frantically, his forehead dropping to your shoulder. the sounds he makes are broken, high-pitched whines muffled into your skin. he comes with a loud, drawn out groan, his release spilling hot across your clit and folds, coating you in a messy finish.

“fuck…” he pants, still twitching in his fist, smearing himself against you like he can't stand not being connected somehow.

he stays buried against your shoulder for a long minute, his breathing gradually slowing against your skin. when he finally lifts his head to look at you his free hand finds it way to your face, fingers combing tenderly through the messy strands. he cups your cheek, tilting your face toward his and captures your lips in a slow, deep kiss.

you’re first to pull away, watching him with a half-hearted glare even as you stubbornly try to close your legs.

fuck. you're so fucked. when the hell did the freak get so hot? so kissable? so sweet? so—

gyutaro lets out a breathless huff, brushing a thumb over your bottom lip to wipe away the sheen of the kiss you just shared.

“what?” he says, eyes flicking up to yours. “I pulled out.”

you scoff, cheeks hot, heart racing.

“…you’re an asshole.”

he grins wider at that, clearly pleased with himself, leaning in just enough to steal another kiss - a kiss that is cut short by the sudden sound of footsteps coming up the stairs. you freeze mid-glide of your tongue, body still wrapped tight around him.

gyutaro’s eyes widen. “is that—?”

“my mom.” you shove him off of you in panic, so fast you nearly trip over your own feet as you drop from the desk. gyutaro is already moving, swearing under his breath as he yanks his pants back up, meanwhile you snatch your panties from the floor and pull them back into place before shoving gyutaro toward the floor.

“get under!”

“what?! wait—ah, fuck!” he hisses, his legs folding awkwardly as he forces himself into the cramped gap beneath the bed.

knock knock.

the sound comes right as you dive onto the mattress, throwing the blanket over yourself before grabbing a book from your nightstand, pretending to be engrossed in it just as your door opens.

“honey?”

“...yeah??"

“I left your laundry by the door.”

“oh! thanks! got it!”

she pauses.

“…everything okay in there?”

you clear your throat, shifting awkwardly as you try not to pant. “yeah! I was just… doing some light stretching. sorry about the… the noise...?”

your mom raises a brow, clearly not entirely convinced but thankfully, she doesn't press the issue. you exhale a shaky breath when the door closes behind her, your hands trembling around the book. once her footsteps fade completely, you lean over the edge of the mattress and lift the blanket.

gyutaro’s body is squished against the floor, his shoulders pulled together to make himself smaller.

you grin.

“sorry.” you say, not sounding sorry in the slightest as you reach down and offer him a hand. gyutaro ignores it, dragging himself out from under the bed.

“you’ll pay for this.” he crawls onto the bed and corners you against the pillow, the look in his eyes making it clear that neither of you is getting any sleep tonight.

not that you mind.

not even a little bit.