<Minor spoilers for pt.5 character personality>
Description: Demon fantasy au: Giorno x Reader
Warning: Contains explicit sexual content.
The small cottage on the edge of town isn't very noteworthy. It's tucked away in a little meadow and across a small stream. Its roof is thatch and its walls are wood, a small chimney protrudes form the back-facing wall, occasionally puffs of smoke will emerge from it and dissipate into the sky.
It's honestly quite unremarkable.
Or...it was quite unremarkable.
As of late, word around town has been that pretty blue and pink flowers have been popping up out of nowhere. And apparently the vegetation has practically exploded! There are bleeding hearts and morning glories dangling from the windowsill and buttercups clustered around the door.
Whose cottage was this? Yours, of course. And as for the reason for the sudden increase in flora and fauna...that was...a bit complicated. You see, it had to do with the being that currently lazed on you couch, claimed your space as if it was his own, and was quite frankly, a bit troublesome to have around.
The demon had golden blonde hair and fair skin that was free of any blemish. This morning he appeared to be wearing tight black pants and a royal blue shirt that hung loosely to his frame and seemed to expose a rather large amount of chest area. Upon closer inspection; it was embroidered with little gold ladybugs around the collar and sleeves.
And....wait was he currently in the process of turning your teacups into daffodils? Crap. Those were your precious teacups! Was he really that bored?! "Wait, you, stop!"
The demon put the half-turned teacup down on the nearby table and cocks his head at you; straight faced with the faintest hint of a smile. "Why?"
His body language, tone of voice, posture, they all indicate genuine curiosity. But you know better. This demon has been bound to you for a few weeks already, you can't say that reading him is easy...but you can recognize the mischievous glimmer in his eyes. He knows very well just what he's doing. "They're my teacups, for tea. You..." Take a deep breath. "Can you please turn the back?"
"Hmm." The demon hums, staring straight at you. It's always unnerving; his eyes are a blend of gold and blue. Little rays of amber and falls of gold melding into streams of ocean blue and hints of emerald green that churn and shift with the light. Like this, he's expressionless. Then, a polite smile: "Of course."
He doesn't make any move to turn the teacups back. The rustic clock ticked on and on, you wait a little longer but it soon becomes apparent that he has no plans of turning them back. Of course, the realization dawn, your phrasing. The knowledge you possess of demons is quite limited, but you know that when speaking to them it's all the technicalities that matter. Well, either that or this demon is particularly troublesome. "Will you please turn my teacups back?"
The demon nods, his long hair spilling over his shoulder into a riven of molten gold. "The please is unnecessary." And in an instant, the daffodils on you table are back to teacups.
He's strange like that. He's definitely a demon—that fact is indisputable—but sometimes he's too polite and too careful. It's uncanny, really.
You sighed, wondering how you even got into this troublesome situation. Ah right. It's because of something as normal as a broken bone, honestly. It occurred a few weeks ago, when you taking a walk in the forest. You tripped on a loose branch and ended up taking quite the stumble. And unfortunately...your leg broke. Unable to manage the trek back home, you ended up wishing something along the lines of 'I'll accept any help!'—which ended up with this.