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i loved the Yusuke and talk reader!!!!!

Do you mind if i request another for Yusuke???

If not, Yusuke w a reader/ S/O who started to make him lunches after noticing he hasn’t been eating much after the Madarame incident </3 poor boy :’[

Yusuke x Reader who makes lunches for him

A/N: this is so cute!! Thank you so much for requesting!!

Warnings: a little bit of talk about trouble eating, nothing to major though.

Wordcount: 469

the first time you give him one, he feels so special

even when he was with Madarame, Yusuke was the one feeding himself

the fact that you would put so much effort in to making sure he was eating made him so happy

he sits there with a small smile, his cheeks dusted in pink

After the Madarame incident, Yusuke really started to struggle with food because he no longer had someone to provide for him. he was also having trouble figuring out if he should spend his little money on art supplies or food, which caused his situation to get even worse

the fact that you noticed makes his heart feel like its about to burst, in the nicest way possible :)

It had been a week since Madarame had turned himself in. You knew Yusuke was taking it terribly. You could tell. Its not like it was hard to see.

he seemed paler than usual, and his eye bags were deeper, darker. He seemed tired. Even when he was at school he was different. Usually he was so full of enthusiasm, eager to cover a blank canvas in colour and give it life. Now he sat on his wooden chair, his eyes just as blank as the canvas. You had tried to talk to him many times, tried to tell him you were always there, that he could always talk to you; but he would blow you off, saying things like "Im fine. you need not worry, my love". But you knew him better than that.

which is what leaded you to where you are now. You glance at the clock. Its 11 pm. you know you should sleep, but what's one sleepless night in comparison to all that Yusuke as gone through? sleep could wait.

a blue plastic bento box sat Infront of you, filled with various snacks and foods you new he enjoyed. As long as it took you to make everything, it was a lot of fun to make everything look cute.

the only part you were nervous for, was giving it to him.

The morning passes by in a blur, and soon enough, its time to give Yusuke his gift. You place yourself infront of his desk.

he looks up at you, eyes curious. you slowly pull out the bento box, before placing it on your side of the desk, then slowly sliding it over to his side.

"W-whats this?" he asks, eyes wide. as soon as he opens it he's met with a delicious sent, one that brings a smile to his face.

His cheeks are red, and his smile is large, larger than you've seen it in weeks. he reaches for your hand and gives it a squeeze.

"I love you, Yusuke." You whisper, squeezing his hand back.

"I love you more, darling" he whispers back.

For Him

Fyodor X Fem!Reader 

Warnings: Really bad angst, idk I tried

Word count: 843

There was something so electric about his eyes.

Whenever he looked you over you felt like lightning was striking through you to the very core, only to spread through your body and into your fingertips. But of course, there was nothing in his gaze unusual. No Love, no worry, no wanting. Just the same old cold calculating eyes as always. You may have liked to pretend there was something more to them, but you knew there never would be. 

You sat beside him, listening to him speak in his mother tongue, conversing with his white haired partner across from him. You could make out bits and pieces, ever since you and Fyodor started your relationship you had decided to learn. For him. Not that it mattered to him. 

You silently ate your food, the “date” you had set up for the two of you being interrupted by his white haired friend, Nikolai. Fyodor didn’t seem bothered in the slightest, he almost seemed happy with the interruption. You sighed as the two talked, moving the food around your plate with your fork. You couldn’t tell if you and Fyodor were anything. You cared for him so deeply, you tried so hard, hell you even tried to learn his home country's language for him. All for him. It hurt that he didn’t care, not in the slightest. You could feel your cheeks turning red in shame, you knew all along he was only with you because you could help him, because you could be of use to him. But you thought maybe, just maybe, if you tried your hardest, showed him how much you cared that he might start to feel the same. You cursed yourself for being so stupid. 

As you started to feel the tears build up behind your eyes. You excused yourself to go to the washroom, neither of them seeming to notice. It stung more than you thought it would. You rushed to the washroom, slamming the stall door shut, maybe harder than you should have. You brought your legs to your chest, letting the tears fall free, landing on your legs. You should have known he would never care. You were just a tool. Hiccups started to break free, and you tried to quiet down. The last thing you wanted was for someone, him, to hear you. After minutes passed you started to slow your breathing, and started to calm down. You stood up and walked out of the stall, looking at yourself in the mirror. Your face was red, but maybe he wouldn’t notice, the same way he didn’t notice earlier. 

You walked out into the restaurant, searching for your table. You arrived. But they were gone, all traces of their existence at the table as well. The only thing left there was the bill. The lonely piece of paper, the price more expensive than you thought. You held back more tears as you went to pay, and quickly headed back home. You wondered if you would be able to face Fyodor. 

As you walked through the door you prayed he would be gone, out with Nikolai, or busy with work. You quickly and quietly walked into your bedroom, and pried off your jacket, tossing it to the ground. You crawled under the blankets, the tears and hiccups picking up right where they left off, pouring down your cheeks like never before. Your head hurt, but the most notable pain was the one in your chest. Not a pain really, more of an ache. One that throbbed and caused the tears to flow harder and harder, until you thought you would choke. One that felt like shattering glass piercing your very soul. You cried so hard you couldn’t hear the footsteps. 

A hand placed itself on your shoulder, causing you to jump. The blanket was pulled from you, revealing the last face you wanted to see, the one that caused all of the pain you had felt. 

Fyodor lifted you up, placing your head against his chest. You cried harder, hiccups intensifying, and you felt as if you would drown, either in pain or your own tears. 

“Fyodor…?” you called, once you had calmed down enough to speak.

“Yes?” he answered. 

“You don’t really love me, do you?” you asked, pain evident in the pleading look in your eyes, and the crack in your voice. 

“Of course I do, love,” he said, smiling. His smile didn’t reach his eyes, those electric eyes. The ones that always made your knees weak, the ones that made you feel so euphoric. The ones that would never hold any love, only cold emptiness.  But you didn’t care. At least he tried to make it sound like he did love you. Like he desired you. You would let him lie to you. Even if it hurt, even if he didn’t truly mean it, even if he would never understand how much you cared. Because he could use you. And you would do anything for him.

Every city is filled with rats. Meow.

I raise you-

• Fyodor Dostoyevsky who very very secretly…. deep within him…. Actually likes to be babied by his love.

• It doesn’t come out until after he’s terribly wounded during the prison break arc. ((HES ALIVE AND IM MAKING SHIT UP LET ME HAVE THIS IM DELUSIONAL.))

• Fyodor Dostoyevsky who rests on your chest for hours, his exhausted body curled into yours are he relishes in the way your hand sweetly rubs up and down his spine to comfort him.

• Fyodor who lets you redo his bandages for him on his wounded hand, and feels such warmth swell in his chest from the way you treat his wounded skin so tenderly.

• Fyodor, who’s only downfall was never trusting anybody… feeling a tinge of something new in his chest for you as you treat him with care when he’s vulnerable.

• the man who’s been manipulating you all this time… finally feeling something so real… and palpable… and warm towards you…

• Fyodor, who’s been taught to never rely on anyone for his whole life, having no choice BUT to trust you in this state… and you don’t break that trust.

• The way he suddenly finds himself so… so… needy for you. So desperate to feel your warmth. Desperate to rest his head back on your soft chest and listen to your heartbeat… reveling in the way your hand holds his wrist just below the line of his bandages and massages slow circles into his pulse.

• Fyodor, who’s astounded by the intention and awareness behind your care…. The way you take note of every grunt of pain… every soft whimper… every time he lets out a sigh of relief at your touch… the way you start memorizing the points of contact that relax his body… a hand in his hair… on his lower back… his wrist… his hip.

• Fyodor, who feels truly safe. Not because of his intellect for once, but because he can trust that you won’t let anything bad happen to him while he’s wounded…. You’ll hold him until he’s better. You aren’t going anywhere.

Cherry Red

Vampire!Light Yagami X Reader

Warnings: None! (some descriptions of teeth on skin, and hands on skin, but nothing warning worthy)

Word Count: 795

The moonlight shone through the window, thin white curtains doing little to block it out. Wind blew in coldly, a shiver running up your spine. The clouds hovered around the moon, bringing the smell of rain - perhaps snow even - with them. You assumed it would be cold in the days to come, inside and out, but at the moment that didn’t bother you. Not in the slightest.

Not when a pair of hands held your waist tightly, holding you in place. Your hands were wrapped around the head and back of your lover, Light, holding him close as he pressed soft kisses to your neck. To you, he was perfect. Lovely and charming, and oh so amazing at filling your stomach with butterflies.

To him however, you were so much more. Sure you were lovely and pretty, but you were so, so much more. You were intoxicating. He could smell your blood, its sweet scent corrupting every sense of his, pushing his limits. He loved how your scent burned his nose, filling his mind with the temptation to bite down on your smooth pretty little neck, and he fought to contain himself, to keep his urges under control. But he could only hold back so much.

You gasped at the feeling of his sharp canines on your neck, right at the base of your collar bone. He wasn’t pressing down hard enough to break the skin, not even close, but you could feel them pricking your skin, Light’s grip on you tightening. You could feel his fingers pressing crescents into the plush skin of your almost bare hips, and suddenly his weight on you seemed much heavier than before. Your body tensed.

You were scared - no uneasy. You weren’t scared per say, but you knew all that Light was. All that he was capable of. And while you loved him, you couldn’t help the panicky feeling that was quick to spread through your body.

He was a predator. He was a beast made of metal, built to hunt and kill, and although you knew he would never kill you out of choice, you could never be sure of what would happen if he were to lose control of the creature inside him. He felt your tense body and quickly released you. He rolled off the bed, fleeing to the corner of the room. He was shrouded in the shadows, the place in which he stood the only place moonlight couldn’t reach.

His eyes slowly opened, red iris glowing in the dim lighting. You could see the guilt in his eyes, the fear of overstepping a boundary constant in his mind. He knew that you saw him for what he was. A vampire. A creature - a killer.

You bit your lip, guilt filling you up. You hadn’t meant to tense up as bad as you did. You could see light shake his head. “I- I'm sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.. I shouldn’t even be here!” you could hear the turmoil in his voice. “If only you knew what you did to me..” he said, placing his head in his hand. You called his name, once, twice, you voice a soft echo through your room. He looked at you, eyes hard. The soft cherry red of his eyes had shifted into a colder colour, one similar to that of blood. You forced the shiver in your spine to go away.

You softly patted the spot on the bed beside you, your soft silky night shirt flowing around you like water. He opened his mouth to speak, but you shook your head, denying anything he had to say, before patting the bed again. Slowly you could see the human part of him win his mental fight, and he stepped slightly closer to your bed, his eyes on you. They had turned back to the soft colour you adored, the one that had brought you so much comfort.

It was like taming a beast, one that was strong and deadly, one that could kill you, but one that was still weak to the softness of romance, of having someone to care for you. Slowly he crawled onto the bed, moving closer to you, eyes strong and unblinking. He moved his face close to yours, eyes boring into yours. You moved your face closer to his, before pressing your lips softly but firmly against his, his eyes finally closing.

He nuzzled his head into your neck, pressing soft kisses once again as he had before.

Over the time of knowing Light you grew to understand one thing about him. Vampires were seen as monsters. Predators who would kill everyone for a taste of blood. Light was no monster. At least, not with you.