#sucky but!!!! its better than nothing

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Yandere! Asahi Azumane NSFW Profile

Yandere! Asahi Azumane x fem! reader

TW: kidnapping, mentions of non-con, light somnophilia, masturbation, panty sniffing, breeding, lactation kink, mentions of pegging, Asahi wears lingerie, size kink but remember that Asahi is very large and it's written with the idea that everyone is smaller than Asahi, one very, very brief mention of reading not eating enough, fem reader, MDNI

I do not condone any of the actions described in this post - this is fiction and should be treated as such. If you or a loved one is in a similar situation to anything contained in this post or my blog in general, please seek help. You're in charge of your internet consumption; please make responsible choices. With that, enjoy!

WC: 12K

HABITS:

Before having you in his life, sex was something Asahi wasn’t super comfortable with. Despite coming more out of his shell with the passing years, he’s never truly shaken off his shyness, and so the prospect of casual sex is absolutely not something he’s interested in.

He’s had a girlfriend or two and is thus not a stranger to women’s bodies, but he’s found that he’s simply just not that sexual of a man. Sex just wasn’t important to think about – he gets easily flustered even as a fully grown adult, and while he can handle mature conversations about intimacy, just the thought of being so lewd and bending someone over to have his way with them gets his ears turning red, his knees buckling and his words coming out all slurred and distorted because he can’t think clearly.

It’s embarrassing, if he’s being honest, and so he finds himself simply avoiding sex and, in turn, partners. And this extended into his personal sex life and habits as well – he’s not the most regular in terms of touching himself, preferring to just let the bout of horniness or the occasional incessant boner pass on its own.

He’ll do it occasionally to relieve tension and because he enjoyed how it feels, but it’d only happen a few times a month, if only because the embarrassment was difficult to overlook. After all, how lonely is it to look down and see his own hand wrapped around his cock? Familiar fingers gripping his red, swollen length in the comfort of his own room, the lame background music he’d put on to feel better doing absolutely nothing.

The reality is that Asahi is actually quite lonely before you step into his life – he's not quite smooth and suave enough to be successful with women or even be willing to put himself out there, and the realization that the only way for him to get some sort of sexual relief is via himself makes him too sad to indulge often.

And even once you step into his life, this is still true – except now there’s the addition feeling of yearning, wishing so strongly that it’s your fingers instead of his own (or perhaps your mouth, your breasts, or – god forbid – your pussy) that touching himself becomes even more of an emotional struggle.

And as time passes, Asahi sticks to his typical pattern of seldomly masturbating – but then his feelings grow deeper, his infatuation with you festering more and more, his thoughts about you delicately toeing the line between sweet and only slightly disturbing to downright depraved.

After all, how can he not imagine fucking you in every position he’s ever seen?

How can he not imagine the sight of you perched in his lap, pretty body bare for him to ogle while you scoop your hips up and down, moaning his name and guiding your lips to latch onto a bouncing nipple, your cunt squeezing down on him like a fucking vice?

The embarrassment is still there, of course, as is the shame and loneliness, but his feelings for you are just too strong to ignore, his desperation too insistent to quell. And with every gasping, toe-curling orgasm that wracks his body, Asahi comes closer and closer to deciding that he needs you, that just his hand or his pillow aren’t enough to satisfy him.

No, he needs you – your touch, your body, your pretty, tight, warm walls sucking him in so hard that you never let him go.

As the frequency with which he gets off increases, Asahi finds that he has a particular system for how he pleasures himself - and it involves a secret that he is not proud of.

He’s not especially proud of the fact that he relies exclusively on the (now a bit ragged) pair of panties you’d accidentally left at his apartment in order to get off, but it’s too late to change now. You’d had a rather serious dental procedure, and had turned to Asahi to request that you stay the night at his place to minimize your driving and responsibilities while the anesthesia wore off.

Asahi had of course jumped at the chance, ending the phone call with shaking fingers, a blush covering every inch of his face, and his heart practically beating out of his chest at the prospect of sharing a roof with you for a night just like couples do. And he’d been attentive to your every need; cooking you a warm soup, getting the best sheets he had and letting you sleep in his bed rather than the couch.

(Of course, he still hasn’t washed those sheets after you’d slept in them – if he tries hard enough to thinks he can smell you in the fabric, occasionally finding strands of your hair by his pillow and letting each one sit on the tip of his tongue for just a moment, savoring the taste of you.)

You’d forgotten a pair of underwear in your overnight bag, and while Asahi had meant to tell you, curiosity got the better of him and before he knew it he was picking them up, swallowing thickly, and thumbing at the double-layered section that rubs right up against your folds. It was all too easy to imagine how you must look in them – the mental image of you making a shiver erupt down his spine, needing to lean on his desk for support.

He felt a bit guilty for not returning them, but he couldn’t help it - they were so utterly you, your favorite color and a style he just knows would frame your cute little ass perfectly, your plush thighs and creamy skin sitting on display and practically begging to be kneaded, squeezed at, marked up and bruised with hickeys.

And that night, as he lay in bed and stare at the ceiling, thinking of your face and how he’d quite literally give up his own life just to kiss you once, just to feel your lips pressed snugly against his own, slowly the more risqué thoughts are drifting into his mind.

What would it feel like to have you kiss other parts of his body? How would you taste if he kissed your collarbone, gently suckled on a nipple, licked a long stripe up the puffy lips of your cunt?

How would you react if he were to teasingly kitten lick at your clit, or if he whispered a heated, honest I love you into your ear as he pushed deep inside of you and filled you to fucking brim with his cum?

His mind slowly drifts to more lewd areas, his body growing hot as he imagines you riding him like your life depended on it, bouncing up and down and making your entire body jiggle, your tits bouncing in his face and your voice thin and gasping as you tell him that it’s too much, I can’t Asahi, please, need you to fuck me now…

And soon, he’s deciding that he can’t just ignore the stroke of luck he’d gotten that day, that he’d somehow managed to come by a pair of your panties, something he’s only been able to dream about. And as he locks his door and dims the lights a bit, he’s snatching the pair of panties he’d neatly folded and placed on top of his dresser.

Immediately, he notices the slight fresh stain against the crotch, and his eyes go wide - you had already worn them? They’d already touched the slick, warm place between your legs, the place that gets Asahi salivating and bright red with just a mere thought?

With shaking hands, he timidly brings the cloth up to his nose, inhaling and moaning aloud as the smell he can only describe as you clouds his senses. They’re pungent, proof that you must have had a long day with them adorning your pretty body, and immediately his cock is standing at attention, his tip flushed and oozing precum in copious amounts, his balls occasionally twitching in desperation, practically begging to be touched. He lays the panties down against his face, tilting his head back slightly so that the cloth stays against his nostrils, the smell of you filling every breath his takes.

He gulps, wrapping his fingers around himself, hissing slightly at the pressure and letting his eyes drift closed. He gently squeezes, bringing his hand up to the tip, using his thumb to swirl around his slit for a moment as he brings the material once more up to inhale again.

He groans, the pleasure sending shivers down his spine, and before he knows it his fist is pounding down against his pelvis, long strokes against his rock hard cock as he grunts and lowly moans your name, airy breaths of oh – oh you’re so pretty, I love you – hah, love that pretty pussy of yours.

The pace is purposefully slow, his movements still a bit timid because he’s worried he’ll come too fast, that he’s too pent up, that the smell of you will send him over the edge way too soon.

He doesn’t want this moment to end – the pleasure, the exploration, the feeling of having you the closest he’s ever had. He continues to sniff and whine, absolutely amazed at the wonderful, musky scent of you, fantasies running through his mind about the way you’d react to him touching you, to him sinking his cock inside of you again and again and turning you into a trembling, incoherent mess all for him.

He can’t help himself from imagining what you’d smell like when you’re finally in front of him, a groan slipping from his lips as he imagines the way you’d feel perched on his face, your thighs caging in his head and your fingers raking through his hair as he slurps and sucks and moans against you, desperation lacing his movements because god he wants to make you come.

He can’t help but imagine you taking every inch of him inside that warm little pussy of yours, sucking him in and gripping onto his swollen length so tightly he’s sure you must never want to let go. And his eyes flutter close his lips part slightly, drool pooling in his mouth as he loses himself in the pleasure, the feeling of his hand so much better than normal now that he has something to smell, something that’s so clearly you rather than just his thoughts. His hand picks up a bit, and as his tongue darts out to lick his lips, panties still draped over his face when he stops short, eyes flying open as his hips buck wildly.

Tentatively he sticks his tongue out once more, rolling it against the crotch of your panties. Immediately his eyes are flying open and he’s whining your name, hips bucking up as he runs his tongue along the fabric once more, relishing the taste of you against his tongue.

Curses and whimpers of your name along with yes, o-oh yes yes yes, god feels so – so good fly out of his mouth. Suddenly a particularly hard clench of his abs makes him gasp, the words slurred and nearly incoherent as he moans out ‘m gonna – I can’t hold it in, a-ah oh god ‘m-!

His whole body tenses, every breath he takes smelling like you you you as warm cum spurts up and onto his chest, the t-shirt he’s wearing utterly destroyed as it just keeps coming, rope after rope. He’s moaning your name, eyes squeezed shut as he loses himself in your taste, imagining he’s buried as deeply in you as possible, stuffing you full of his cock that he’s all you can feel, all you can see and hear and taste and think of.

It takes him a few minutes to recover, and once his breathing is steady once more he’s staring at his ceiling, in shock of how good it felt to have your scent and taste, to make it seem just a bit more realistic. He’s careful with your panties as he delicately picks them up off of his face, chest still heaving with the residual pleasure of his orgasm, dutifully and carefully folding up the cloth.

After much debate he ends up slotting the panties neatly under his pillow, swallowing heavily and practically giddy with the knowledge that he’ll be sleeping so close to something of yours, his face mere inches away from you, basically.

And that night, as he lays in bed, he’s breathing in hard, hoping to get even the slightest whiff of you from below his pillow, sleep eventually lulling him into dreaming about you laying in his arms, his cum still leaking out of you.

FAVORITE BODY PARTS:

Your hands

Asahi’s always found himself drawn to your hands. Perhaps because his job requires so much of his hands between sewing, measuring, tailoring, and everything else, or perhaps because he’s simply attracted to them.

Regardless, Asahi quickly discovers that every time he’s with you, he’s always aching to reach out and intertwine his fingers with yours, to feel your palm pressed against his own.

And really, they’re just so small compared to his own rough, calloused hands – so soft and delicate, something he can stare at for hours without growing tired.

He’ll trace every line, every mole and mark, memorizing each and every detail because it all just feels so important. He doesn’t care whether your fingers are long and dainty, shorter and wider, veiny and pale, anything and everything is pure perfection to Asahi, and he’ll be worshipping your hands no matter what condition they’re in.

Even in the early stages of his obsession with you, he’s always been interested in them – the way you idly crack your knuckles, how you mindlessly tap random rhythms against your desk when you’re bored or waiting for something, how you run your fingers over your hair when you’re focusing.

He has a tendency to stare, and while he thinks that you don’t catch him often (you d0, but based upon the fire engine blush on his cheeks and the way his eyes immediately dart away, you figure it’d be kinder to not confront him about it), he’s been fascinated since day one with how they could possibly feel, how soft your fingers would be, the exact lines on your palms, whether they get clammy easily or not.

And once your relationship moves to the point of any sort of affection, Asahi’s preference for your hands will quickly become apparent – he’s trying to hold them at any chance he can get, intertwining his fingers with your own, bringing them up to kiss each knuckle individually, listing off a thing he loves about you for each.

He loves the way they feel against his own calloused palms, how your fingers are so much shorter than his own, how when you hold your palm up against his, you barely reach his last knuckles.

It only furthers his perception of you being so in need of protection, and he loves to feel those hands against him, touching him. He loves the sight of your fingers wrapped around his thick cock, barely able to wrap fully around, such a stark contrast to the hard, pulsing, veiny expanse of his length. He loves the friction as you thrust your hand up and down, biting his lip and knitting his brows together because even though it’s just a simple handjob it feels so much better when it’s your hands and fingers wrapped around him.

He loves how they feel against him when you’re touching him, running them along his front and down below his v line, how it sends shivers down his spine just to have you ghost a fingertip against his sensitive skin.

He likes holding your hand while he fucks you, keeping his grip on you firm as his hips steadily thrust into you, the pleasure slowly mounting. His fingers clench onto your own progressively tighter, until they nearly crush yours as he stares down at you with wide eyes, his lips falling open into a desperate moan of I – coming! while he buries his face in your neck, filling you with spurt after spurt of cum.

He loves the way you scratch his down his back as he hovers over you, the pleasure and pain mixing together while he focuses on holding off his orgasm for as long as possible, not wanting to end the feeling of being inside of you, not wanting to end the way you’re clutching onto him and moaning for him, begging for him and telling him that he feels so good Asahi ‘m gonna come-!

Asahi loves your hands, and at any given time he’ll be touching them in some capacity - whether it be holding your hand, resting his cheeks against your palm or sucking at your fingers while you toy with him and make tears well up in those pretty eyes of his.

He just loves them. 

His hair

He’s long harbored fantasies of you playing with his hair, to feel you giving it attention and mindlessly running your fingers through it.

He’s absolutely convinced that it would be the most comfortable, wonderful thing in the world, that it would be the single most amazing experience he’ll ever have, to have your attention solely focused on him, you touching him, maybe even telling him how lovely his hair is, how you’re jealous of how soft and smooth and pretty it is…

Just the thought of you complimenting his hair is enough to have him wildly blushing, his dark eyes staring at the floor in embarrassment and bashfulness, secretly yearning for you to tell him more, to compliment him again and again until he faints from all the blood rushing to his cheeks.

(And, though he’d never tell you, to his cock, too.)

And once you’re trapped with him in your new shared ‘home’, Asahi is still harboring the fantasy, even more so than before – and yet, he will never ask for it, never request for you to play with it, to run your nails against his scalp and gently tug on the roots.

He wont’ ask, if only because it feels wrong to request anything of you after he’s kidnapped you, when you’re so obviously still afraid of him.

So he waits in silence, praying for the day when you mindlessly start playing with his hair – he’ll always position himself so that his hair is accessible if the desire overtakes you, a small flame of hope igniting in him chest and extinguishing out every time you move and don’t come any closer to his head.

(He goes to bed on those nights with a heavy heart, his own tangling into his hair and tugging, your name slipping past his lips.)

But Asahi is a patient man, and once you do start absentmindedly playing with his hair, Asahi is beyond pleased to know that you don’t stop. You seem to grow an affinity for running your fingers through it, for braiding it, styling it, really doing anything at all.

He knows that you enjoy his hair – it becomes his favorite thing in the world to feel you play with it, and he spends hours with you sitting behind him with his head leaning back between your knees, his body starting out stiff because holy shit, he’s so close to you, but eventually relaxing, even falling into a slumber because the feeling is just so calming. He wants you to braid it, mess with it, do anything your heart desires with it because he loves the attention and the relaxing feeling it brings.

But of course, he also loves his locks for other, less wholesome reasons - the way you tug at it when he’s got his face buried between your legs, for example, and how your grip tightens against his scalp as you get closer and closer to release.

Sometimes you synch your cries with the tugs, something that Asahi is sure you’re unaware of, but he can’t help the way he forces himself to work harder, to focus more in order to get you off, in order make you have the most Earth shattering orgasm, the best feeling you’ve ever experienced, and with each hair tug he only becomes more determined.

He loves the way you get rough with it, the slight tinge of pain that accompanies it, and it never fails to make him groan, to sigh out your name against your cunt.

(Sometimes, when he’s in the mood but you physically aren’t in a position to touch his hair, he’ll reach up and tug at the strands himself, imagining your fingers instead of his own. It gets him whimpering, desperation for you so thick that he can nearly taste it, but Asahi just can’t help it. It’s an obsession in and of its own right, and he can’t deny how much he loves it.)

DRIVE:

Asahi’s drive is really quite average – he’s not an incessantly horny man by any means, and while he does have the occasional passing fantasy or wet dream, he’d never categorize himself as a hormone-driven man. He doesn’t watch porn, doesn’t follow any social media influencers whose content borders on the edge of distasteful, and he sometimes even fastforwards through sex scenes in movies simply because he finds it uncomfortable to watch two people having sex – even if it’s fake.

And so Asahi finds himself mostly avoiding intimacy on that level, though it’s not entirely on purpose. He’s by no means a saint, though; he’s still human, and when he sees a woman with particularly large breasts or perfectly manicured fingers there’s always the fleeting thought of what if, the fantasies clawing in the back of his mind of how he’d love to latch onto a nipple and suck, to imagine how much better those fingers would look wrapped around his cock or cupping at his balls.

He rarely touches himself, sure, but he’s not a stranger to sex, his limited experience still experience nonetheless.

And so while it’s very, very easy to fluster or rile him up,  he generally isn’t hard and desperate to fuck you at all times. He values you for much more than just your pussy – you’re his dream woman, the person he views as his life-long partner, the one he wants to spend every waking moment with and share every last breath. He’s content to just hold you, to press a soft kiss against your temple and whisper a little confession of love rather than pin you down and fuck you until you’re crying.

(Of course, he won’t say no if you were to beg him to touch you, his face only turning red and his voice cracking a bit as he rushes out a quick yes! Um, yes of course, I’ll uh, be right back… and then leaving the room to take a few deep breaths and whisper to himself that it will be fine, she wants you, you’ll do well, don’t overthink it.)

Asahi is very dependent on what you want, always concerned about your opinion and vote and desires, and so while there are times that those wild hormones do in fact take over and his body starts begging him to slip down that cute pair of panties he bought for you and sit you directly on his cock, to bounce you up and down and use you like some life sized sex toy, watching as your breasts jiggle and your face contorts up into that sexy, perfect little ‘o’, Asahi won’t until you make the move to do so.

(It’s out of respect and lucidity for your consent and state of mind. He already feels guilty enough from having stalked you and stolen you away to live in his modest apartment with him, and forcing himself onto you is absolutely the last thing he wants to do.)

He’s not constantly horny, but it doesn’t take too much to rile him up. A few suggestive words and lingering touches can have him needy and eager to touch and please you in mere seconds – casually tell him over dinner that you feel so empty, Asahi, won’t you come fill me up and watch the way his entire body stiffens, brown eyes meeting your gaze and immediately looking at the table in embarrassment, his face flushed a bright red and his knee bouncing under the table as he mutters out a are – are you sure? I don’t want to leave you hungry – not that you haven’t eaten enough! That’s not what I’m saying, I just – um, I uh… Do you really want that?

(His voice gets a bit vulnerable at the end there, his tone higher and his eyes daring to meet yours again, his mousy brown hair falling around his jaw like a halo.)

Leave a hand on his bicep and gently squeeze, biting your lip and making a show of raking your gaze up and down his body and you’ll see the way he gulps, the sound audible as he shudders a breath, his pants already growing tight and nudging against you.

(You can actually feel the warmth of him through his jeans when he does this – cock warm and ready and throbbing.)

For him, your pleasure is the number one priority, and as such it’s his duty to prioritize what you want when you want it, rather than his own desires. You should be in charge, should be the one calling the shots and telling him that you’re okay with him fucking you like he so desperately wants. You should be the one to tell him that it’s okay each time he nervously and compulsively asks you if it’s okay for him to kiss you or touch your waist or unclasp your bra or moan your name or come -

And even once you’re both naked and touching one another, he views his own orgasms as a background to yours. He mostly just wants you to feel good, and he’s pretty much at your beck and call for whenever you’d like to feel the euphoric high that only an orgasm can bring you, in whatever way you’d like him to get you there. He’s game to finger you, to eat you out, to fuck your cute little pussy that makes him moan and whine every time, even your ass if you bring it up.

Asahi never fails to deliver, and he’ll never, ever complain. He loves to touch you and get you moaning, even if he’s a bit shy and flustered the whole time. It makes him so, so happy to know that he’s the one touching you, that he’s the one making you feel so good and satisfied.

But before you begin feeling any desire to be with him in an intimate setting, Asahi still has urges. He still very, very badly wants to touch you and feel you against his skin, to trace out the map of your body and chart every mole, hair, blemish and roll.

You’re just so fucking perfect to him, and he can’t help but desire you physically when he sees the way your breasts bounce as you try to reach the top shelf in the kitchen (he’s more than happy to come to your rescue and grab the jar off the top shelf, secretly smitten with himself because he’d put it there with the hopes of creating this moment).

He can’t help but want to taste your saliva when he sees you sweating on a particularly hot day, the bead rolling down your temple and following the curve of your cheekbones, his tongue coming out to lick a long stripe along his lips because fuck, he bets you taste sweet.

These urges are still present and strong, but because of his commitment to not force you into anything, Asahi finds that he has to satisfy himself in other ways. That is, it doesn’t necessarily feel good to sneak into the extra bedroom he’d transformed into your personal room, but as soon as he catches a whiff of your scent and sees your sleeping, relaxed form on the mattress, his mouth goes dry and he’s shuffling forward before he even realizes it.

You’re sprawled out on the mattress he’d bought especially for you, the soft t-shirt and short set he'd gotten you sitting haphazardly on your hips and riding up to expose a bit of your stomach. It makes him gulp, his eyebrows drawing in a bit as he slowly, carefully, sits down onto the empty space beside you on the bed.

He can’t stop staring at you – you’re so pretty, and as your lips part slightly and you breath, he can’t help but whimper slightly – he can only imagine how it would feel to kiss you, to feel your lips against his own and feel your tongue brush against his.

Would you bite his lip, tease him with a bit of pain before kissing him harder, pushing your tongue inside and moaning into his mouth because it just feels too good? He hopes so, and it’s not long before he’s imagining all of the other things that mouth of yours could do – he’s sure your kisses would feel like heaven against his chest, lips wrapped around a nipple and sucking lightly, tongue flattening out to run over the pebbled skin again and again and making him shiver.

He’s sure that your lips would feel even better lower, pressed against the juncture of his hip and thigh, moving up and to the side, slowly – so fucking slowly – moving towards where he really needs you, where he’s pulsing and throbbing and leaking so much precum that it almost looks like he’s already reached his high.

He closes his eyes briefly as he imagines the way you’d suckle on his tip, your pretty lips puckered and those eyes of yours staring up at him from between his knees, how you’d pull back to press small kisses and kitten licks against his sensitive skin.

The thought has him groaning lightly, a hand coming down to carefully push his boxers down just a hair, just enough to let his cock spring free, slapping heavily against his lower stomach as he bites his lip. He makes sure to settle the waistband just below his balls, a hand idly moving to grope and squeeze as he continues to stare at you. It feels wrong to be touching himself while so close to you, while you’re totally unaware, but he just can’t help it – he’d been furiously pounding away moments ago in his own bed, eyes squeezed shut and flashes of you playing through his mind, but the knowledge eats at him that you’re only a wall away, your pretty body ripe to ogle and fantasize about and right fucking there…

Guilt weighs heavily in the back of his mind, but as he wraps his fist around his base and slowly pulls up, the heaving breath he lets out has the shame creeping to the back of his mind. It’s so much better with you in his sight – he watches the rise and fall of your chest, your breaths and soft and light, matching the pace of his fist with it.

His toes curl and his lip catches between his teeth, the dull, teasing pleasure from such a slow pace making his head tilt back. He stays like this for what feels like hours – his eyes never moving from your sleeping form, his pace matched to your breathing, just simply breathing in deeply and letting his eyes flutter closed as he exhales, the scent of you you you filling his lungs and making him feel dizzy.

Some forty minutes later, Asahi’s breath is hitching, little whimpers and bitten back moans filling the otherwise quiet air, his fist slowly speeding up out of his control, his orgasm slowly building and mounting, his cock so sensitive and hard and wet –

He comes with a strangled, too-loud I love you, his eyes struggling to stay open as he strokes his way through it, his hips bucking up into his fist and cum landing in ropes along his fingers and wrist. Fuck fuck fuck fuck, he’s chanting under his breath, his breathing uneven and labored as he tries his best to be quiet, terrified to wake you up.

You’re still so ethereal in front of him, looking like an angel as he slows his fist to a stop, his entire body trembling at the aftereffects of his orgasm. He swallows heavily, shaking fingers stained with cum reaching out and nearly, barely brushing against the soft skin of your forearm, clenching his teeth tightly at the contact as it sends one last, final push of pleasure through him, a few final beads of cum oozing from his tip and making him whimper your name.

He doesn’t touch you any more than that, scared to wake you up or cross some invisible line of privacy and consent, but thus starts a pattern. He’ll sneak into your room every week or so, spending far too long simply staring at you, moving to every angle imaginable just to see you, to see all of you, all the while furiously pumping his fist, doing his best to bite back every moan because god, what would you say if you saw him?

(He hopes you wouldn’t stop him, that you’d instead berate him for being so dirty, that you’d reach out and stop his wrist, telling him in that lovely, sweet voice of yours to earn it, Asahi, show me that you deserve to come. And god, the fervor and desperation in his movements as he’d lick and suck between your legs is too good to be embarrassing.)

MAIN THREE KINKS:

Praise

As a general rule, Asahi absolutely crumbles the moment any sort of positive comment towards him falls from your lips. He’s never been the most confident man on the face of the planet, and while time and a successful career have helped mitigate that a bit, he’s still a bit doubtful about himself, always just slightly insecure and unable to believe in himself.

And for the most part he doesn’t mind, but he always, always appreciates your support in the area of his lacking – declrataion of you being happy or grateful or pleased with him leave Asahi’s throat feeling tight and his palms clammy. But specifically, Asahi has little to no confidence in himself in the bedroom – and to hear you say anything even remotely positive about his skills in bed gets him hot under the collar, the desire to please you making his fingers itch and his pants feel much too tight.

His lack of confidence between the sheets stems from the belief that he’s sure that he won’t be able to satisfy you, that his touch and love won’t be enough to get you off, that you’ll end up just using your own fingers because he just wasn’t good enough.

He’s convinced that you’ll grow to prefer your own touches and ministrations over his own, that you’ll simply sigh and roll your eyes when he asks you in that timid voice if you’d sit on his face, if you’d let him play with you, if you could just please let him taste you, he’s been thinking about it all day…

It’s never ending cycle of negative thoughts and assumptions, always absolutely sure that things will go the worst possible way once he becomes intimate with you,  and honestly you’ll quickly pick up on this.

When he’s hovering over you, brown eyes staring wildly down at you, impossibly wide while his mouth opens and closes like a fish, unsure of what to say or do because you���re finally right in front of him, like he’s been dreaming of for months, you’ll notice the way he’s too stiff to move, his every muscle tense and his eyebrows knitted together so tightly that he almost looks like he’s in pain.

(A few soothing words will have him instantly relaxing, though – run your hands up and down his arms, cooing at him that he’s so handsome, that he looks so good over me Asahi, you’re so pretty, and maybe tell him that you’re so excited, you’ve already made me feel so good baby, and you haven’t even touched me yet and you’ll see the way he visibly perks up, embarrassment written across his face but this sort of shy, boyish joy taking over as he leans down and kisses you. The kiss is too sloppy, too needy, too wet, but it’s the push he needs to finally press himself against you, your slick folds against the sensitive underside of his cock making him hiss into the kiss and his arms nearly give out.)

He’s too nervous to try fingering you or eating you out the first time he’s got you naked in front of him, but he also knows that you need prep before you take him, his girth enough to stretch your walls out to a painful degree if you don’t get some aid.  

(Take the initiative and guide his fingers down your body, going slow and making all sorts of keening and sighing noises, until he’s finally pressed up against you. Tell him that his fingers feel good when you’re helping him rub slow circles over your clit. Overdo your hips bucking at the sensation just to give him that extra assurance that he’s doing a good job. Gasp his name as he slips a finger inside and purposefully clench down on him, letting him hear you babble on about how he feels so good and he’s so big and he’s exactly what I’ve been imagining… You’ll see the determined purse of his lips, every ounce of concentration going into making you cry out his name, making you squeal out more praise, getting you to gush on his fingers and tongue and give him what he’s been dreaming of for months – the sight of your pretty body convulsing up in an orgasm, your cunt spasming and clenching down on him like a fucking vice.)

Towards the beginning of your sexual relationship you’ll find that more often than not he’s at a  standstill, something that is more than obvious to you, and in moments like these it’s best if you just tell him what to do. When you take off your bra, breasts bared for him as he unabashedly stares, his lips parted and his eyes wide, guide his hand to squeeze at one, sighing at the sensation and telling him that it feels good baby, you can go a little harder if you want, too.  

When he’s carefully (and almost tentatively) rubbing your back, giving you a massage and doing his best to relieve your back pain without hurting you, moan out his name and tell him right there, god Asahi you’re so good at this. It’ll leave him blushing and squirming, his cock growing hard and suddenly he’s hearing your moans as moans, seeing the pleased expressions on your face as being expressions of pleasure.

You need to follow his every action up with a bit of praise the first few times you fuck – when he slips a finger or two inside, bite your lip and make a show of gasping, telling him that he feels so good, please Asahi, just like that!

When he’s going down on you for the first time, tangle your fingers through his hair and tell him that he’s doing so well, it feels so – so good Asahi, mmm please don’t stop! And when he fucks you for the first time, gasp sharply and moan, tell him that he’s s-s0 big! Stretches me out so good, ngh –

(Asahi has always seemed gentle to you, even after having kidnapped you – tall, sure, but more afraid of his own shadow than anything. But once you moan that out, that gentle man you’re familiar with is gone – you realize just how strong he really is as his hips crash into yours, your cunt stretched and nearly split open with the sheer power and vigor of his thrusts, each one seeming to reach deeper inside of you, coming faster and faster until your moans at all forced, genuine incoherent nonsense slipping from your lips because god, you’ve never been fucked like this before – this fully, this desperately.)

He loves to know that he’s the one making you feel so good, making you cry out and curl your toes. When you say things like ‘so good Asahi’, or ‘yes, just like that’, he’ll become a blushing, flustered mess, but it’ll only drive him even further in his mission to please you, to get you to come.

After all, in his mind, your pleasure is so much more important than his own, and he’ll give you anything and everything he possibly can to get your eyes rolling to the back of your head and your pussy clamping down around him.

His actions will pick up speed and eagerness, and if you weren’t so fucked out while he’s got his tongue against your clit or his cock stretching you out, you’d be able to practically feel the desperation to get you to orgasm rolling off of him in waves.

He just wants to know that what he’s doing is feeling good, that you’re enjoying him, that you’re loving this wonderful intimate moment as much as he is. He loves your vocalness, and it helps his confidence to hear you so openly praising him and his body.

 So tell him, while he’s hovering over you, his cheeks flushed, his hair falling in waves over his shoulders and a few beads of sweat rolling down his temples, how big he feels inside of you, how you’re sure that nobody could fuck you like Asahi can, and he’ll make the cutest little gasp, before he’s thrusting into you even harder, burying his face into your neck and chanting your name over and over.

He loves it.

Breeding  

But unlike a lot of men, this kink doesn’t stem exclusively from a sense of possessiveness or ownership over you. (Of course, he very much is possessive over you and hates the idea of another man interacting with you, but still.)

Instead, Asahi’s fascination with the concept of breeding you mostly stems from a genuine desire to knock you up. Asahi craves a domestic life with you; the mere idea of being one big, happy family is something that makes his heart melt, that makes him giddy with excitement and an embarrassed flush spread across the bridge of his nose. There’s so many cute, wholesome things that Asahi wants to do with his future children; family pictures, reading to them before bed, dressing them up in his latest fashion designs, making them go eww! when they see Mommy and Daddy kissing…

And when you step into the picture, this natural desire for children only steps up, increasing astronomically because Asahi genuinely believes that you’re his soulmate, the woman he’ll spend the rest of his life with, and he couldn’t be happier.

 And while he’d never force it upon you, he really loves the idea of getting you pregnant and giving you the family that you both deserve. He wants to give you the baby he so desperately wants you to have, to see you softly rubbing your tummy and smiling at him, showing the world exactly who you love, who you choose to be with, who you’ll be spending the rest of your life loving and loyally staying alongside. He thinks he’d be a good father, in his oh so humble opinion, and that he’s completely, absolutely sure that you’d be a wonderful mother, and that together the two of you could have a happy, perfect family.

But of course, Asahi is no pure angel saint – he may not be the most possessive over you, but he can’t deny the wonderful side effects that come with pinning you down and breeding you. That is, there’s something about the fact that it’s his cock emptying load after load inside of you that gets him harder than he’s ever been in his life.

There’s something about the fact that it’s his name you’re moaning out to finish inside of you that makes him hot under the collar, his fingers twitching and his thighs flexing involuntarily because god, you’d sound so fucking good moaning his name.

The idea that it’s because of him that the cute little bump throwing your body off proportion even exists makes him feral, hands eagerly ripping at your clothes and slotting you in his lap, grasping at your hips and physically bouncing you up and down on his cock until he’s groaning your name and stuffing you full again and again and again, leaving you dripping white and smelling his cum, like him.

He’s not the most possessive yandere, sure, but even Asahi can get behind the idea of marking you as his own, of claiming you in the most natural, animalistic way. It satisfies something deep within him – the same thing that urges him to rush forward and keep you from getting too close to the open flames on the stove, the same thing that urges him to buy the pretty flowers on his way home from work and tuck one behind your ear. He’s never given much stock to gender stereotypes, but it just feels right to have you be his sweet little housewife, to be your big, strong protector, to be your provider in more ways than one.

And while bringing you gifts and keeping a roof over your head and warm food in your stomach are certainly ways he loves to provide for you, he’s more than willing to provide for your more carnal needs, too.

He’s more than happy to fill you to the brim with his cum, the sticky white dribbling out of you in big globs that he pressed back in with a thumb, voice shaky as he jokes about having to buy some sort of a plug just to keep everything inside.

(The next morning you find a pretty, purple plug on your bedside table, Asahi looking sheepish as he tells you that it’s the only way to really be sure, you know? Can’t have you wasting anything…)

He’s more than happy to keep his cock inside of you after he’s come, to make sure you’re plugged up, to keep you laying so that you’re hips are elevated, so that his cum will surely reach your womb, so that your body will have no choice but to give him exactly what he wants.

And during sex, the thoughts racing through Asahi’s head absolutely reinfornce this – as his high approaches, there’s a mantra repeating over and over in his head to  come inside her, fuck a baby into her, get her pregnant so she’ll never leave you.

His hips will speed up, the sound absolutely obsene as he throws your legs over his shoulders, eyes rolling to the back of his head as he watches your tits bounce with the force of his thrusts, the mental image of you swollen and round and so fucking fertile leaving his head spinning and oh fuck fuck fuck –

He’s coming with a whine of your name, burying his face into your neck and grasping tightly onto your breast, chanting your name under his breath and pressing himself just a bit deeper inside, anything to try and increase the chances of it taking.

The idea of knocking you up clouds his senses as his hips plow into you, the sensation so overwhelming that he’s nearly crying, but fat tears welling up and streaming down his face to land on your own while he clutches onto your hand, the emotional end of realizing that he might get you pregnant hitting him at full speed and making him dizzy with desire and love.

He’ll oftentimes whisper sweet nothings about how beautiful you’ll look, how much he wants to give you children, how deeply he wants to come inside while his hips are pounding away, practically ramming into your cervix with each powerful, passionate thrust.

He loves the idea of having a baby with you, and it’s just an added bonus that giving it to you feels so good. 

Size kink

No matter your size, Asahi will be taller, stronger, bigger.

He’s six feet tall, muscular, and despite his timid disposition, he’s very much a force to be reckoned with. Despite transitioning to a career less focused on physical prowess, Asahi largely retained his physique.

He’s a little softer now, the muscles covered by a small layer of fat, but he’s still got definition lining every inch of his body, the short-sleeved t-shirts he wears doing very little to hide the outline of his biceps. When his shirt rides up as he pulls his hair back into its signature bun, it’s impossible to miss the way he seems to tower over everything and everything, his presence something commanding the room, making everyone else just feel so small.

And while none of it is on purpose, Asahi slowly notices with time just how pronounced this difference is.

He sees it in the way that your palms compare as he timidly snake his hand against yours, swallowing heavily and avoiding eye contact because god, not only are your hands soft and warm, they’re practically engulfed by his, the sight making something scratch at the back of his throat.

He sees it in the way that your arms just barely wrap around his torso when you hug him, your fingers lacing together. (Of course, this took him a very long time to notice – he was too flustered by the fact that you’re hugging him to really notice any details, and even then he’d been too preoccupied by the feeling of your clothed breasts pressing against his chest, willing everything in himself to not get hard, to not let the blood rush to his cock as he imagines the way your legs would feel wrapped around his waist.)

As time passes, Asahi discovers that not only is he noticing these things, but there’s something about the sight that gets him hot under the collar, his breathing more strained than usual and his voice coming out a bit crackly.

And really, this kink stems from his protectiveness of you and his need to feel like your savior, but there’s just something about having you underneath him, seeing how small your body is in comparison to his own that really gets to him.

The idea of you being a fraction of his size, of your body being so much cuter, tinier, and softer than his own is something that makes Asahi blush, the red spreading from the tips of his ears all the way down to his collarbone, the idea that you’re such opposites yet so perfect for one another simultaneously warming his heart and begging him to fuck you because he just loves you so much.

And while your size difference is something that Asahi has always rationally known about, it’s so much different to actually see it, to be physically forced to recognize that he’s just so big compared to you.

When you’re naked below him, looking up at him with those vulnerable, beautiful eyes while you clutch the pillow underneath your head and shakily swallow, Asahi is hit with the sudden realization that you so clearly need him, need his help to do everything, and that includes turning you into a panting, drooling mess with his fingers, tongue and cock.

He loves the foreign surge of dominance he feels, how powerful and manly it makes him feel to see you under him, looking up at him like that, your lips swollen and puffy from kissing and biting them, from enjoying the pleasure he’s so focused on delivering to you.

He loves watching you take his cock; how it stretches you out to the point where you’re tensed up, fisting the sheets and telling him to slow down because you need time to adjust to his massive length.

(Of course, Asahi immediately stops, panic eating away at him because what if he hurt you? There’s not a sadistic bone in his body, and when you have to tell him things like that it only reminds him how easily he gets lost in you, how quickly he succumbs to the carnal urge to just fuck you so hard that you’re screaming his name and showing everyone exactly who owns the tight little pussy he’s fucking and filling with his cum.)

He loves to intertwine his fingers with yours while he thrusts into you, marveling at how his fingers dwarf your own while his cock stretches you out so fully, so completely that it’s almost visible against the skin of your navel.

He’ll purposefully fuck you in positions that really showcase this difference in size, too – of course his favorite is missionary, getting to look at you while he slowly rolls his hips into yours, but there’s something exquisite about folding you into a mating press, too. The way he’s strong enough to practically force your ankles up to your ears, his entire body hovering over yours as he pounds into you, watching the way you seize up because the angle is just so fucking deep.

It’s not his favorite, but he’ll fuck you from behind, the position slowly morphing from doggy into prone bone as he becomes more and more desperate for you, soon laying almost completely on top of you while his hips stutter into yours, the sensation of warm cum flooding you and the feeling of Asahi in every inch of your space making your head spin.

Even non-penetrative positions have this effect on him – watching you settle between his legs and eagerly jerk him off gets him clutching onto the nearest surface, the sight of your fingers, so small and sweet and pretty compared to his own, making his knees feel weak because fuck you’re so delicate compared to him.

And god, your mouth? It’s over for him the moment that your lips wrap around his tip, the sight of a much-too-big cock forcing its way down your throat threatening to bring him to orgasm much, much too soon.

Every part of him is bigger, and he just loves how obvious his muscles and height make it that he’s the protector in the relationship, that he’s the one providing for you, keeping you safe, keeping you happy.

Because after all, he’d do anything to keep you happy. 

OTHER NOTABLE KINKS INCLUDE:

Hair pulling

Quite honestly, Asahi’s not sure where this kink came from. His scalp has always been a bit sensitive, his hair silky and in remarkably good shape for little he brushes it, for how poorly he cares for it. And while he’s kept it long for all of his adult life, he’s still just the slightest bit insecure about being a man with long hair – the lingering stares of others making him slump his shoulders a bit, wishing they’d stop staring.

And so, he’s never really viewed his hair as something sexual – no girl has ever really pulled it, and on the rare occasions when he’s touched himself, a hand never manages to travel north of his chest.

And even on the more practical side of things, he’s never really been one for pain, for enjoying the stinging sensation of sharpness against his skin, of feeling the dull throb of a bruise being pressed on. He’s never really found it to be sexy, and by extension he’s never bothered to explore hair pulling.

But then he becomes intimate with you and as he’s kissing you, tongue tracing the shape of your teeth and moaning into your mouth he feels it –

Your nails scraping against his scalp, digging in and grabbing a fistful of hair, pulling and tugging.

He actually moans, the sound high and whiny and so girly it nearly makes him cry, but he can’t help but beg you to do it again, a hand coming up to secure your place against his scalp.

There’s just something about the your fingers tunnel into his hair, gripping the brown locks between your nimble fingers while his tongue works fast, desperate circles against your clit, his fingers curling and arching just the way you told him to. Every tug at his hair drives him to work harder, to suck harder and lick faster because he just wants to please you, and the way you’re mixing pain with pleasure is making his hips buck against the mattress, unable to control himself as he whines against your cunt.

When your nails lightly scrape against his scalp, Asahi can’t help but close his eyes and moan, the vibrations going straight up your spine as he doubles his efforts, wanting to get you to come to an almost unhealthy degree.

And yet, as your hands pull harder, coaxing him into fingerfucking you harder, moving in the specific motion against your clit he knows you love, all you can do is throw your hair back and moan, little gasps of oh Asahi, oh please – I’m so close, don’t stop!

There’s something about the light touch of pain that makes him shiver, that makes the excitement stand up at the back of his neck, his eyes growing dilated and his efforts even more vigorous because fuck, you deserve to come, and by god is Asahi going to be the man to do it.

It’s become a staple of him giving you head – you always burrow your fingers into the loose, flowing brown locks, pulling him ever closer to your sopping cunt, something Asahi couldn’t be happier about.

And if you really want to leave him a flustered, panting mess, lightly tug at his hair without any warning in a non-sexual context – reach over during breakfast and give a light tug and you’ll see in real time as his face turns red, gaping like a fish and letting a hand drop his fork and wander down to his crotch, the table covering his motions. (Though the sound of a zipper slowly undoing is hardly difficult to identify, nor is the way the slick, clicking noises echo through the room as he shakily tells you to f-finish your breakfast…)

Lingerie

Perhaps it’s a result of his heightened attention paid to fashion, or perhaps it’s just Asahi’s nature, but as his infatuation with you develops, so too does his desire to see you all dressed up for him.

He doesn’t view you as a doll, per se, but Asahi finds that one of his guiltiest pleasures is to put you in clothing he designs specifically for you – pretty colors and cuts he thinks accentuate your curves, always sucking in a sharp breath and muttering out this awed, overtly genuine wow that makes you too embarrassed to respond.

And it’s sweet, more than anything, because the dresses and outfits he creates for you really are flattering – except that as your sexual relationship develops, he starts taking certain liberties, his creations becoming more and more risqué.

The lingerie he designs for you is tasteful, at least – it’s flattering as well, always in shades of pinks, reds, and white to enhance your natural coloring, his fingers always trembling when he helps you put them on, catching a bit of lace between his thumb and index finger and sighing out your name in a tone much too airy to be normal.

You look absolutely stunning – and he finds that fucking you with the lingerie still decorating your body only makes his kisses more heartfelt, longer, more needy because you’re just so damn pretty all dressed up and practically wrapped up like a gift for him.

But really, where’s Asahi’s true lingerie kink lies is not in you wearing it, but rather in him wearing it.

It’s beyond embarrassing to him and something that would take a long time for him to admit, but there’s a certain part of him that would actually like to try on a few of the lingerie sets he sees in magazines, tv and social media. Some of them are just so fucking pretty, soft pastels with lots of lace and ruffles, things that scream feminine and soft, pretty and fuckable.

And while Asahi knows he’s supposed to be the ‘man’ in the relationship, it’s a guilty pleasure that he just can’t shake – and so, when you one day catch him staring at an ad for a brand new baby blue two piece set on his phone, you ask him if he’s going to get it, cocking a brow at him because it’s rare for him to ever buy you lingerie sets rather than make them himself.

(He’d told you once that he can fit them to your body better than any manufacturer can. And what he hadn’t told you is that there’s a certain allure to knowing that you’re wearing something that he made you, not some unknown, random worker with no appreciation for you or your beauty.)

Immediately Asahi is scrambling to cover it up, nervously chuckling and denying your words, but when it shows up the next day and Asahi mumbles if you’d be willing to um, give me an opinion about something, you’re intrigued. And as you open the door to reveal him, familiar brown eyes are unable to meet your own gaze, his body language clearly nervous at your scrutiny.

But really, the sight of the six foot tall, burly man clad  in the soft material hugging his body and bringing out the natural tan color of his skin leaves you oddly breathless, the sight strangely bizarre and erotic.

The bra cups are a bit loose, though you can still see his pretty, pink nipples hard as a rock underneath the sheer material. The bra may be loose, but the pair of lacy, red panties most certainly are not – his cock threatens to burst out of it at any moment, his balls hanging on by a thread to stay inside of the dainty fabric.

And when you take a few steps forward, looking at him with wide eyes, he feels his heart drop when you say oh Asahi, you’re so beautiful.

(If you look closely enough, you can see his balls visibly clench at the compliment, the skin angry and red at the tightness of the panties.)

So while it’s not the manliest thing, Asahi can’t deny that it makes him feel good, and you’re always so touchy and sweet when he’s wearing it.

And so when he’s in more of a submissive mood, wanting you to take care of him, dote on him, love him and show him that you’re just as desperate and hopelessly in love as he is, he throws it on and sits patiently on the bed, waiting with baited breath for you to pull the strap out and make him feel like a good little boy.

(And god his moans are pretty, his little gasps and whines when you toy with the fabric making you power-hungry, the sight of his cute little hole clenching as you toy with him, bent over and panties pushed to the side is the stuff of fantasies – he’s just so fucking obedient when he’s all dressed up for you.)

BIGGEST FANTASY: 

Going hand in hand with his breeding kink and his want of starting a family with you, Asahi has a few guilty pleasures when it comes to the idea of a pregnant you.

He just can’t help it – his biggest domestic fantasy is having a family with you, and every time he sees a pregnant woman out and about something inside of him just snaps, the flood of images of you all knocked up making his knees nearly buckle.

(Of course, in these images you’re sometimes clothes and sometimes not – the clothes, when included, are always too small, making your breasts look even bigger and your stomach ever rounder.)

Something about the roundness of your body, how your curves are enhanced, how you look so fucking fertile really gets to him, especially with how your breasts begin to swell.

Something about watching as your nipples begin to darken, your areolas get larger, and the way the flesh begins to hang heavier, looking so full and ready to be emptied really gets to him, sparking some odd, primal instinct in him that he didn’t even know he had.

He’s staring constantly, brown eyes darting to the way his t-shirts are stretched taut against your belly bump and engorged breasts, how you look so perfect and domestic and like a real mother.

He’ll be much too shy to say anything, too nervous at your rejection of the fantasy he holds close to his heart, but he really wants nothing more than to just latch onto a leaking, aching nipple, wrap his lights tightly around it, circle his tongue over the sensitive skin, and suck.

He wants to taste you; feel the white liquid against his tongue, nurse off of you in such a human, natural way.

He almost feels as if it’s his reward - he put the baby inside of you that’s causing you to produce, he’s the one heading to work everyday, making money to bring back to you and your slowly growing family.

He’s the one that spent hours between your legs, fingering your pretty cunt and giving you load after load after load of hot, potent cum.

He’s your protector, and it’s his deepest fantasy to be rewarded for all his hard work with your breastmilk. He’ll never, ever admit it, but when he fondles your breasts and nibbles at them, sucking at them with a vigor you’ve never experienced before, those are the thoughts racing through his mind. 

              “I’m home!” Asahi calls, closing the front door and letting out a small, satisfied sigh at the sight of his little home. Touches of your style are everywhere - the couch has your favorite color throw pillows, your favorite art is on the walls, pictures of the two of you hanging in frames on the shelf above the fireplace on the far side of the living room. It makes him smile, something warm and fuzzy settling in his chest.

              He slips his shoes off, shrugging off his coat and venturing further into the house. Normally you’d be in the kitchen by now, preparing dinner and wanting to have a nice meal while the two of you discussed your days, telling one another how much you missed the other. When he doesn’t find you in the kitchen, his brow arches and he calls your name once more, a small pang of panic bolting through him at the thought of you not responding.

              “Oh! You’re home!” He hears you exclaim from behind him, and heaves out a small sigh of relief. He turns around with a soft smile on his face, but that smile vanishes as soon as he takes in your appearance. 

              You’re wearing one of his old tee shirts, the material a bit light and comfortable, and a pair of your favorite panties peeking out from under the hem. You look so fucking pretty that it takes him a moment to register your words, brown eyes dilating and focusing on the sight of you in his shirt, the smooth expanse of your thighs, the smile on your face that gets his knees weak. But as he takes in the full sight of you, something else catches his eye – immediately saliva is pooling against his tongue, his fingers twitching and his tongue flicking out to lick over his lips.

Two small, uneven pools of wet form right over the swell of your breasts, staining the fabric a darker shade and making his mouth water slightly. The sight of your chest straining heavily against the shirt has him taking a step forward hastily, aching to get closer and closer.

              You notice his staring, and you scratch the back of your neck a bit awkwardly. “Welcome home, love. Sorry, I was just about to go start pumping but the laundry had me busy. I lost track of time.” 

              He just nods, not able to take his gaze away from you. You blink, before quirking the corner of your lips up. Although your husband had never asked, you’d noticed his affinity for your chest increasing tremendously after you’d begun lactating - he thought he was smooth when he’d oh so innocently walk in on you with your pump, watching your milk fill up the bottle, but you knew better. The fixation in his eyes as he stared was telling, the way he’d play with his hands and fingers, struggling to keep eye contact with you making it oh so apparent. And so, with a confidence that only he could allow you to develop over the years, you realize that maybe it was alright that you hadn’t started dinner quite yet.

              You bite your lip and slowly walk up to him, until you’re close enough to hear the slight wheeze in his breaths. You watch his Adam’s Apple bob as his eyes dart between your face and your breasts, trying to decide where to look. You almost laugh. “Asahi...I have an idea, if you’d be willing to try it out.”

              His gaze meets yours with a bit of reluctance, and his brows tighten. “S-sure! What did you have in mind?”

              You smile, leaning up on your tippy toes and placing a kiss against his cheek. “Well, since I haven’t started dinner yet, and I didn’t get to start pumping, and you’ve been gone all day, working hard and making me proud, I think you deserve a little reward.”

              Asahi visibly flushed at this, and his eyes widened a bit. “A reward? What do you mean?”

              You bite your lip, reaching out to take one of his large hands into your own, before carefully placing it over one of your breasts. He gasps sharply, his entire body tensing as he feels the wetness underneath his palm. You look up at him, doing your best to give him as seductive and sultry a look as you can muster. 

              “Well, I was thinking that maybe I could give you a little treat? As a thank you for everything that you do for me. It’s been waiting all day, and I’m so, so full… would you like that? Do you want a little snack as a reward?” You ask, watching his reaction carefully. His brown eyes are so warm, so genuinely shocked, and for a second you almost wonder if he’ll say no, or push you away. But before you can take back your words, he’s eagerly nodding, walking you backwards into the living room and settling you down into a sitting position on the couch. He crouches below you, on his knees in between your legs, still in the nice clothes he’d worn to work today. You grab the hem of your shirt, carefully lifting it over you and throwing it to some unknown part of the room. The cold air hits you, and you feel your nipples harden and the skin of your breasts tighten up. 

              Asahi lets out a mix between a moan and a whimper at the sight of your bare chest, staring in awe with his mouth open. When you see him not moving, you carefully reach your hands up, cupping your breasts and gently squeezing, causing a small stream of milk to leak out of each nipple.

              “Darling, don’t you want your reward?” You ask, squeezing extra hard, sending a spurt of liquid out, his eyes following the arc as he licks his lips.

Asahi gulps, a low growl escaping him as he gently pulls your hands away, instead latching his mouth around a nipple and sucking -

              You sigh softly, the feeling of his lips applying pressure and his tongue swiping over your nipple much more erotic than you had been expecting. His lips work against you, tongue swirling against your sensitive areolas as his cheeks hollow. He moans against you, the taste of you overwhelming his senses and setting his body alight with pleasure. He can feel his pants growing uncomfortably tight, but he just sucks harder, listening to your coos and cries above him. 

              His hand reaches out to cup your other breast, squeezing a bit more firmly and watching the milk leak, before he leans back, releasing the nipple from his mouth with a popping sound, and squeezes once more, harshly, watching as a stream of milk arcs through the air and directly into his parted, awaiting mouth. You both moan, and he swallows. He rubs his fingers over your nipples, and looks up at you, licking his lips. 

              “I think it’s time you showed me just how good you taste down here, too.” He says, grinding his clothed erection against your crotch. You moan, nodding your head and tangling your fingers into his hair, watching his eyes flutter closed at the sensation.

            And, thirty minutes later as he’s pulling out of you, hissing slightly at the overstimulation, Asahi can only pant, a hand once again coming up to lightly squeeze at your breast, the kiss he gives you heated enough to have you melting against the mattress, too relaxed to even notice the way he pushes himself back in again, gasping into your mouth and pushing through the overstimulation because he needs this, needs you.

            After all, he can never get enough of you.

[reallyromealone]

Day sixteen 🎃 curroption

Pantalone x Barbara's brother male reader

Warnings: male reader, nsfw, smut, slight dubious consent, tough sex, blowjobs, facials, bottom male reader

Masterlist

(Name) hummed as he wandered the path, currently on a pilgrimage throughout the countries to give prayer to the gods and learn about the other lands beyond his own, dressed in winter clothes he was thankful he brought //imagine Barbara's outfit but fur lined and more masculine// as be looked through the endless winter before him.

Snezhnaya was not far off from what he was told but he found the cold almost delightful as the snow crunched beneath his shoes.

The young Deacon looked for a church or Cathedral of anything throughout the city when he noticed up high on a hill was a grand cathedral "thank goodness..."

"Excuse me?" A young girl dressed in fur lined clothes asked "who are you?" She asked curiously and (name) smiled warmly "I'm a Deacon of Mondstadt, I'm currently on a pilgrimage" he said with a kindness like no other, an emotional warmth radiating off him and giving a sense of safety.

"Really? That's so cool?" The girl said wide eyed and the two were unaware of Fatui guards taking notice of this and bringing the information of a Mondstadt Deacon in their city to Pantalone.

(Name) was in awe at the country and despite its unforgiving weather the people were kind to him, regarding him warmly as he made his way to the cathedral.

"Pardon me, are you the Deacon I heard of?" A deep elegant voice rang out, catching (name)s attention to the tall man with a false smile "hello! Yes, my (name) is (name)! A pleasure to meet you!" Pantalone noted be couldn't be older than 19, a bright and cheerful nature and radiating innocence and purity.

Pantalone wanted to own this adorable bunny.

"What brings you to our fair country little Deacon?" The spectacled man asked with false curiousity, trying to get information from the pretty boy who beamed and told him so honestly what he was doing "very noble of you, you must make those at home proud" Pantalone comments and (name) shook his head "I don't do this for the praise of others, I do it for the gods... They all deserve prayer and kindness..." He said genuinely and Pantalone was a greedy greedy man.

"Would you like to join me for dinner?"

Pantalone was selfish and greedy as he took in the others form as he watched (name) take off his coat to reveal how wonderful he was on the eyes.

"Thank you very much for inviting me! You have a beautiful home" (name) said genuinely and Pantalone imagined how wonderful he would look perched on his lap or spread in his bed dressed in barely anything or better yet nothing at all.

(Name) stared at him with his full attention, as if he were the the gods the Deacon prayed to.

"I must confess... I didn't ask you to join me to dinner for innocent reasons..." A false remorse making (name) look confused but let him continue "you see I was entranced by your beauty..."

He was entranced by his beauty, his innocence and would make an excellent lover to him.

"I must say... I find you quite handsome" (name) was flushed as he looked away, embarrassed at his confession only for the man to pull him closer "that's very sweet of you to say" Pantalone gently took his chin with his index and thumb "you're so beautiful..." He whispered before taking (name)s lips, pulling him into his lap fully and hands wasting no time touching "w-wait..." (Name) gasps, clinging and already debauched from a kiss "t-tgat was my first..."

"Kiss? Tell me... Have you ever bedded a man before?"

"I... I never..."

Pantalone grinned as he moved so (name) was under him and wasted no time recapturing his lips, determined to break his brain till he could only remember the feeling of his cock in him.

(Name) felt dizzy as be tried to keep up, covering himself when the other removed his shirt "don't cover yourself" Pantalone said pinning his arms above his head with one hand and continued his exploration, biting and sucking anywhere to get those sweet inexperienced moans from the others lips as his hand moved to rub the Deacons clothes cock, groping and playing with it before slipping under to fondle with the hardened cock, hot and leaking with pre-cum.

"Already close to cumming?" Pantalone teased "is my slutty little Deacon close?"

"I-I..."

"I-I" Pantalone mocked as he licked one of his nipples "come on bunny speak up"

"I don't... I-I don't know... Knot..."

"A knot? Where?"

"My stomach.."

"That means your slutty little cock is going to cum..." Pantalone said gripping his cock and jerking it off and watching the Deacon come undone "you ruined your pants..." Pantalone tisked as he stripped the beautiful man fully "such a wonderful body..." He breathed out as he took in the other.

mondstadt didn't deserve him.

"Wanna be a good boy?" Pantalone asked with a condicendingly sweet tone and (name) hazily nodded, unsure what he want but he wanted more...

"Then get on your knees infront of me"

(Name) moved so he was on his knees before the other, looking up at him so innocently "be a good boy and suck my cock nicely, get it ready"

(Name) wasn't fully sure what he was getting it ready for as the banker fished it from his expensive pants and gently smacked (name)s face with it "hop to little bunny" and watched (name) nervously take the cock in his hands, almost in awe at it's size as he pumped it a few times before tentatively putting it in his mouth.

"Good boy..." Pantalone said with a sigh as (name) sucked his cock like he was made to do so, he knew there was an eager slut underneath that Innocence...

(Name) didn't understand why he wanted to be such a good boy to the man whom he just met, never being touched like this before and found it additive.

(Name)s mouth was like a vacuum, the sweetheart giving it his all and Pantalone decided that he was going to put a ring on his pretty little finger, make him stay here forever.

Dress him in pretty clothes and break his pretty brain and form it into a dumb cum slut.

That sounded wonderful.

Pantalone gripped the back of his head as he slowly fucked his mouth with a low groan, feeling the others hands grip his thighs, loving the fact he was fully dressed compared to the Deacon being nude as it should be from now on.

(Name) looked so hazy and almost adoring as he bobbed his head, the taste and feeling addictive and the weight of it on his tongue was wonderful.

(Name) gasped as Pantalone forced his mouth off his cock, mouth open with a gasp as he came on his face, white ropes like a wedding veil and Pantalone felt himself harden again as (name) licked the cum almost hypontized as he did so "god you're such a little slut"

Pantalone could see (name) was almost in a headspace, the eager bunny just wanting to please his owner.

"Come here" Pantalone pat his lap and (name) crawled in it, their cocks touching "if you wish to continue I must tell you something" Pantalone said seriously and (name) nodded slowly "if you wish to have sex with me, you cannot leave my side again, I am a selfish greedy man and I refuse to let such a precious thing like you go"

"Was this not... You know... That?"

Even after sucking cock and getting jerked off the sweetheart still couldn't bring himself to say sex, god he was precious.

"Oh darling we barely begun~" Pantalone said groping his ass cheeks "would... I be able to visit my family...?" (Name) said holding back a moan "I could arrange it..." Pantalone said and (name) bit his lip "would we be... Lovers?"

"That's my intention" Pantalone took one of (name)s hands and kissed his knuckles, watching the Deacon swoon "please... Have uh... sex with me" he whispered the last bit as Pantalone grinned, watching as (name) sealed his fate forever.

(Name) yelped as Pantalone lifted him, cock hanging heavy as he walked through the halls of the grand mansion till they reached the master bedroom and the man placed (name) on the expensive sheets, mentally noting how perfect he was in the pattern.

Pantalone grinned as he grabbed an expensive bottle of oil, pouring it on his hands "this may be uncomfortable" Pantalone said leaning to kiss his thigh before spreading the others legs "oh my, aren't you flexible" Pantalone grinned before his oil covered fingers moved lower to prod at his entrance and gently pushed in, not wanting to hurt his bunny...well at least not like that.

(Name) whined at the foreign intrusion "shhh" Pantalone silenced the other as he began moving his finger and pumping in slowly, (name) head lulled as he let out soft moans and pants, mouth opening wide when the other added another finger and doing a combination of a skissor motion and a hithering motion, stretching and pleasuring his sweet lover.

His lover.

God Pantalone would spoil him to hell.

(Name)s hips spasmed a bit as Pantalone hit his prostate dead on "w-what...?"

"Seems I found your prostate, that's a spot inside you that's going to make you go insane" he smiled before adding a third finger and without warning began aggressively finger fucking the poor man and fingers beating against his prostate.

"Ohh~ I-I can't... To much~" (name) was shaking and crying as his toes curled and looked like a mess but god was he beautiful Pantalone noted silently, already fucked out and he hadn't even put his cock in yet.

God he loved how honest he was with his reactions.

(Name) was so close, he could feel the knot tighten again.

Then Pantalone retracted his fingers, grinning sadistically as (name) looked annoyed and confused "don't worry, the best part his coming"

Pantalone lubed his own cock before rubbing it at (name)s entrance before pushing his cock in "hn!" (Name) cried out as he clung to Pantalone "t-to much... Can't fit..." (Name) cried out and the black haired man kissed him "shhh it will fit don't worry" Pantalone soothed and (name) cried softly as the other bottomed out fully "you're doing so well, do you like my cock?"

"Big..."

Pantalone felt his ego rocket as he began slowly thrusting back and forth, caging (name) in his arms as the poor man clung to anything he could "ah ah!" (Name)s moans bounced with each thrust, the stretch and sensation of the head rubbing against his prostate to much as his eyes crossed a little, moans increasing in volume as Pantalone increased his movements and slowly began pistoning his hips, the sound of skin slapping and beautiful moans filling the room "I-I" (name) tried speaking but got cut off by his own moan as the two shared a sloppy kiss, teeth clashing as he fucked into (name), the Deacon cross eyed and swore he was going to become addicted to this newfound pleasure.

"I-its.. cumming!" (Name) let out a loud slutty moan as he came between them, cum staining both their chests but Pantalone kept going, chasing his own orgasm as (name) felt himself go crazy, overstimulated and body hot as the man pounded relentlessly, hands gripping his hips and no doubt leaving bruises.

"Mine..mine" he mumbled as he reached orgasm, poor (name) cumming again and passing out, completely fucked out.

"All mine..." Pantalone mumbled as he pulled out, watching cum leak from his pretty ass "and you're never leaving..."

[yoonlattehorse]

♡Dazai NSFW headcannons♡

✎ 𝕊𝕠𝕞𝕖 𝕟𝕤𝕗𝕨 𝕙𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤 𝕓𝕒𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕠𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕝𝕖𝕥𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕟𝕒𝕞𝕖! 18+𝕄𝕕𝕟𝕚 ◇

*・゜・*:.。.*.。.:*・☆・゜・*:.。.*.。.:*・☆ .

O- oral: I honestly think, he prefers to give rather than to receive, its just such good stressrelief to him! How could he pass a chance to fiest and absolutely devour your pretty pussy? He'd only whine if you didn't let him, clinging and holding onto you until you'd grant him a taste, which obviously ends in making you cum atleast once on his tounge... he would tease you at first, dragging his wet tounge ever so slowly around your pussy, leaving your poor swollen clit without any attention. You would have to earn it first, pretty mewls and broken pleas falling from your mouth until you finally, finally get what you deserve.. Dazai would huff with amusement against your cunt, only sending vibrations against your sensitive pussy, as you grip his hair hard, when he finally dives in, tounge lapping your swollen nub. He'd know exactly what to do, how you like it, taking note of the smallest shivers, of what makes you squirm and moan. Dazai would close his mouth around your small clit, gently suckling it, occasionally letting the tip of his tounge graze that bundle of nerves softly. He'd finger you in the process, before going all in, his mouth devouring your cunt, messily eating you out like the starved man he is, groaning against your sweet pussy when you tug his soft brown locks harshly- he doesn't mind. If anything he enjoys it, your taste, the way your legs start shaking as you get closer to your high. Oh, what he'd give to get choked between your thighs-the sweetest death imaginable to him. He'd squeeze the plush of your thigh eagerly, pushing them apart for better access. Once you're approaching your orgasm Dazai would only grip your thighs harder, push his face against your pussy more, relishing the sound of your louder growing moans and squelched noises of his sloppy tounge against your cunt, before making you cum all over his mouth, until you're all spent and happy.

S- Size: He's got some nice length to him, definetly longer than average, not too thick though, just enough to give you a nice stretch. His fat tip flushes the prettiest pink when he's worked up, oozing salty pre-cum, just waiting to be tasted. His cock feels heavy on your tounge, and although he prefers to give oral rather than to receive, he'd never decline a good sucky-suck from you, when youre all pretty on your knees for him. His balls are heavy, waiting to shoot his creamy load all over you, inside of you..

A- Asshole (how mean is he in bed?): Oh, he definetly enjoys torturing you from time to time- he's just an asshole, that's who he is- and although he's usually extremely sweet and attentive, whispering sweet nothings into your your ear, about how well you take him, how tight and warm you are, give him some time and you'll find yourself with this: he'll spank you, deny you of orgasms only to overestimate you completely afterwards, hes mean. He chuckles as he denies you of yet another orgasm. You've lost count of how many it's been, coos of false sympathy coming from him as he nuzzles you softly. Poor you, tears glittering in your eyes as you feel your next orgasm approach. Even his words, usually full of praise, turn into words of degradation as he pounds into you. "Look at what a slut you are.. bouncing on my cock like I havent just fucked you yesterday... what a horny cockslut.." He enjoys it, smirking mirthfully as he watches you squirm as he finally, let's you cum.

M- Mirrorsex: Definetly something Dazai would be into. Just the thought of fucking you infront of a mirror gets him rock-hard. He'd hold you, fucking you in different position as he makes sure every thrust is visible, the way his dick enters your pussy, fucking you hard. You flush, watching yourself get yourself get railed by that sexy brunnette behind you. Laughing breathily, Dazai would drown in the sight of you, face all blissed out, tits bouncing, your pussy taking him so well, practically gripping his dick. He'd make you to look at that mesmerizing sight too, both of your bodies softly illuminated by the warm light in the room.

U- Unknown fact about them in bed: Hear me out on this one: Dazai loves getting choked. I don't think this should come as a huge surprise to anyone, considering his Canon reaction when Kunikida/Chuuya/Odasaku choke him (it literally says he was 'blissed out') and although he prefers being in charge in bed, (I can't really see him as a bottom considering how uncomfortable he is being vulnerable in that way), this manwhore, wishes no more than to be choked by your pretty hands. He's most blissed out when your hands-or thighs- close around his throat squeezing him, bonus if your bouncing on his cock in the process, like he'll whine and cum in seconds if you do that. Honestly, he's such a shameless slut when it comes to that, like he'll gladly be bottom if it means getting choked by you.

D- Drive: I would say his sex drive is fairly high, like, he's horny all the time. Even at times when he's not the first one to be horny out of the two of you, it really doesn't take much for him to get hard and leaking. He can go on for hours in bed, like this man has stamina, he'd last multiple rounds definetly. He'd fuck you on his cock until youre a dumb slut, babbling nonsense, and he doesnt care how long that takes! He usually only stops because his darling is completely spent from his cock♡ otherwise he'd go for more rounds.

A- Aftercare: To be honest, a lot of people say that he would be great at aftercare but I think he's ass at it lmao. Take one look at this man and tell me he's good at taking care of you after sex.. if you're just a casual hookup, I doubt he'd put any effort into aftercare at all, don't get me wrong, he fucks like a pro, but aftercare...? If anything, he might like it if you take care of him. If you are in an established relationship, which is something that a guy like Dazai is not going to get into unless he's so utterly selfishly head over heels with you, then I do believe he'd try to put effort into aftercare, even if it's unlike him. Like he'll clean you up with a damp cloth, bring soft new clothes to wear and maybe make you tea.

Z- Zzz (how fast does he fall asleep after the deed?): Pretty fast, if you're in a relationship, he'd make sure that you're taken care of a bit first, but it doesn't take long until he's out like a light.. and believe me, with the way he's rearranged your insides, you're pretty fast to fall asleep too, he just fucked you that well♡

A- Anal: Ooh, he's definetly down to it, as long you're down to it too, of course..! He'd first make sure that his cock is nicely coated with lube or your juices, before slowly pushing into your hole. He's a stretch, and long, so it takes a moment to get used to, but once he starts circling your pretty, sensitive, little clit while drilling in and out of you, you're in heaven... you'd moan uncontrablly, milking Dazais cock completely dry while he murmurs sweet praises- or words of humiliation, into your ear.

I-Intimacy: (how intimate is he?): I dont think he is an intimate person per se. This is just my opinion, and we've seen over and over again that Dazai is someone who although, knows his way with people, he seems to really struggle to express himself in those more heartfelt moments. Like he's so clumsy with it..! That also applies during sex, he'd probably just fuck you senseless in a way that you'd have no place left to think about the intimate parts of sex, and/or put some sort of 'barrier' between the two of you, like not taking off his bandages, acting overly jovial/light-hearted and acting completely in control. I think these are all very in-character things for Dazai to do and when we look at the close relationships he's had (especially with Odasaku and Ango), he never expressed their bonds and deep friendship explicitly, especially not verbally. THAT DOES NOT MEAN HE DOESNT CARE ABOUT ANYONE! he cares a lot. He just doesn't speak like that. Yes, he does act silly, jovial and carefree, but it shown multiple times throughout bungo stray dogs, that he doesn't act in that manner without any reason and often his behavior even serves to cover some sinister stuff beneath the surface.... so before I go on a rant about this let's get pack to the point lol: Dazai would not act super intimately, especially of you're not close yet, so don't expect any "I love you"s during sex in the beginning. I do think once he is truly in love with you he'll warm up a bit more to being vulnerable and intimate, and give you the world. Literally.♡ (take one look at beast!) So in a nutshell: the amount of Intimacy he shares with you depends on how close you are and how comfortable he is with being vulnerable.

(ノ^∇^)Hii, I hope you liked this, I'm planning on doing more characters soon..! Sorry that I got carried away in the last part, I'll probably make a separate post on Dazai and his relationship with intimacy/vulnerability in different contexts.

.·´¯`·->Also, sorry for any english mistakes!<-·´¯`·.

[spookberry]

Its been a while so I cant point to a bunch of specific example outside of like, Hera, Athena, and Hephaestus. But okay, one thing that always bothers me about the Percy Jackson worldbuilding is the fact that its fundamental premise is just "what if the greek gods and their stories were real" so there's nothing you can do about how deeply and unrelentingly sexist the ancient greeks were without just breaking your own premise. Like your options are take them at their word to fulfill the premise or say "nah all of them were wrong I have new lore". So I don't exactly blame Riordon for cherrypicking which myths he was gonna edit.

Its just a little wacky to me though that because of it's status as an adaption(to some degree) people don't really critically analyze the intent behind the source material on the gods. Their context from a meta perspective is often overlooked in the grand scheme of the story. Which I understand, the intrigue is on the demigods afterall, not the gods themselves.

However I just cannot stop myself from thinking about it. Like the fact that a big part of why the greeks respected Athena was because she was born "purely of man" and her birth was umblemished via coming from an icky woman. Shes the perfect woman because she lacks ties to womanhood. Shes the ideal Pick Me girl.

The story of Hephaestus's birth is sucky for him, but personally I think more on Hera. To me its always been fairly clear that the intended message you are meant to get out of that story is literally "no matter what, women are worse then men. Even at the one thing theyre meant to be good at." How dare a woman think she could ever be better than a man at something even if she is a Goddess of this thing.

Hera does bad things in her mythos I wont deny that and youre not meant to like her in Percy Jackson either which is fine. We can have complicated and annoyingly meddlesome girlbosss goddess for the sake of plot. Nonetheless I often find myself feeling sad about how she has been dragged through the mud for centuries because people dont dare to think more critically on why the men telling her stories spoke on her the way they did.

[moonlight-hwa]

8:30pm ~ C. S

Synopsis: After a long and terrible day, you come home to your loving boyfriend, who is ready to comfort you no matter what.

Pairing: bf!san x fem!reader

Genre: established relationship, hurt/comfort, fluff, a little angsty

Warnings: mentions of sucky a boss, mc is on her period (I might be projecting)

Word count: 1,372 (it turned out to be way longer than I anticipated)

A/N: ummmm…so this turned out to be very self indulgent. Anyway, something to read while I work on the Wonwoo one shot.

Your day had been going absolutely horrible. First, it had all started with most terrible cramps you’ve ever had…and the painkillers you took did absolutely nothing to ease the pain, at that you felt like climbing back in bed and crying yourself back to sleep because it hurt so bad; but you couldn’t do that, you had work to get to…and that is where the second fact comes in.

     You work at a small little publishing company, with no more than 30 other people working there, its small and quaint and that’s what you like about it…but you absolutely hate your boss, he just simply sucks. Ever since you started working there, he had labeled you his assistant (even though that was not your position and never has been your position) and handed off all the work he was supposed to do to you. So, he expected you to do your actual job, plus all his work and he didn’t care if that lead you to stay late or get burned out quickly, he just wanted some one that would do his work for him.

      And the third and final thing that happened, just sent you over the edge completely, was you spilling coffee all over your desk and all over papers you had to give back to your boss. After cleaning up you had to hide out in the restroom and try to collect yourself…you refused to cry at work. So, with glossy eyes you finally left the restroom and went back to work, while always on the verge of a breakdown.

       And once you had finally made it back to you and your boyfriend’s shared apartment and shut the door behind you, that was when the floodgates opened and tears began flowing down your face; your hand moved to cover your mouth, trying desperately to make sure your sobs were quiet. You hated when you cried like this, it made you feel so hopeless and weak…the smallest of things making you cry, made you feel stupid for crying over such things.

       “Baby?” A soft voice spoke, causing your soft sobs to cease completely and your eyes to open, gaze locking with your boyfriend’s. A worried expression was painted on his features as he took careful steps toward you “What happened, darling? Why are you crying?” San asked softly as gentle hands went up to either side of your face, thumbs catching tears that continued to trail down your cheeks. You shake your repeatedly, breathing in sharply “Its-Its just so stupid.” You said through broken cries. “No, no its not stupid…it’s never stupid to cry, you have every right to cry over things…no matter how small they are, okay?” He tells you and you nod in response.

     San gives you a small smile “Now…can you tell me what’s making you cry, so I can make it better.” He says and you remain silent as you gnawed on your bottom lips, gaze staying locked with San’s comforting one. You knew you should tell him about your terrible day…you knew it would make you feel better after doing so, but you honestly didn’t want to talk about it in that moment…you just wanted to be in San’s arms and completely forget about the events of today.

    You shake your head as your vison blurs with more tears. “You don’t want to talk about it?” He confirms and you nod in response, a few tears leaving your eyes. San nods in confirmation “Okay…we don’t have to talk about, I won’t push you for anything.” He says, before pulling you into the comfort of his embrace. Even more tears fall your eyes as you burry your face in the crook of his neck, San rubs a soothing hand on your back before pressing his lips to crown of your head.

      “Do you need anything?” He asked softly, after a few moments of silence. You breathe in a shudder breath “Can you just hold me.” You simply say, tightening your hold around San’s waist and he nods “Okay, I can do that…do you want to go lay in bed?” You simply nod, muttering a soft ‘please’. And without another word San’s arms move, to where his hands were on the back of your thighs, while your arms wrapped around his neck before he lifted you up effortlessly and carried you to your shared bedroom.

       “Need anything else, baby?” San spoke once more as gently set you on your side of the bed and just as he asked that the familiar stabbing pain of cramps began again. You wince slightly “Heating pad.” You simply say and the smallest of frowns forms on his lips, immediately understanding what that meant. “Okay, I’ll go get that for you, darling.” He said with a small smile, as he stood up from his crouched position and placed a peck to your forehead, before stepping over to the closet, in search of the heating pad.

     While waiting for San to come back with the heating pad, you absently stare up at the ceiling, replaying the demanding words of your boss. You chew at the inside of your cheek, beginning to feel anxiety fill the pit of your stomach as you thought about all the things you had to get done for work; you’re so lost in your thoughts, you don’t register San calling for you and you only do so when you feel him grab your hand. Your head turns toward him and a smile forms on his lips “There she is…now tell me what has you zoned out so hard.” He says as turns on the heating pad and places it on your lower abdomen.

       “I just…I’m just feeling really anxious and stressed out.” You answer truthfully and San nods slowly “About work?” He asked in confirmation, and you nod in response “Do you want to talk about it?” He gently asked as his thumb moved across your knuckles. Your tears have long since stopped, the only thing remaining is the low pulsing of headache forming and you’ve clamed down enough to where you can talk, without bursting into another fit of tears…so in the end you nod in response. San smiles, dimples making an appearance “Okay…I’m all ears, darling.” He says.

     You breathe out a soft sigh, before finally speaking “Well…you know how Mr. Ju is,” You begin and San nods in understanding, knowing exactly how he is from the number of times you’ve talked about him. “He’s just so unbearable, lazy, annoying and he makes me hate my job…but I love my job, I love what do and I don’t want to quit because of him. But god, he makes consider it every time I come home late and exhausted.” You say, feeling frustration bubble up inside you. “Oh, and then today, on top of me starting my period and Mr. Ju being his usual self toward me…I spill coffee all over my desk…soaking every single paper in coffee. I had to go hide out in bathroom, because I almost started crying.” A frown had tugged downward on the corners of San’s lips as he listened to your words.

    You breathe out a frustrated sigh, hands covering your face “I just have so many things to do and not enough time to do them.” You say, before incoherently rambling about how you needed to redo all the things that got soaked in coffee and already existing work on top of that. “Darling.” San spoke trying to get your attention, but it proved to be fruitless…so he repeated himself, only a bit louder this time and at that he gained your undivided attention.

    “You’re at home baby…you shouldn’t be stressing so much about work while at home, you should be relaxing and enjoying your time here.” He says and you feel the stresses and the anxieties of the day begin to dissipate. “So…lets just focus on the fact that it’s just you and me, everything will be okay and if doesn’t end up being okay…then I will always be here when ever you need comfort. Okay?” You nod in response.

And in that moment you knew everything would be okay, because you had San right beside you when it wouldn’t be.

[wayfayrr]

I just remembered how sometimes I yell at Link when he does something that annoys me, like if I’m trying to walk across a really skinny plank but he accidentally walks off/falls off, or when I’m trying to run from an enemy but he starts climbing a tree instead. I’ll just be like “Link no! Get off the stupid tree omg ur gonna die!” Or “Link! Stop falling off the platform! I just wanna get to the top already!” Would he be mad at me for yelling at him? Sad? …..?

Then there’s an unrelated issue that isn’t his fault that my controller sometimes drifts, so he’s walked off cliffs before bc it was drifting slightly forward and I didn’t notice. The most annoying one on my controller is when the motion control stops working and I’m trying to aim my bow and arrow but it freezes so I have to quickly manually flick the analog stick so it works again but by then I might’ve already gotten hit. Is he mad at me for these problems?

Oooooooh! Then there’s the whole having to scroll thru the whole menu options when u wanna attach something to ur arrow. Ugh that takes forever! Like I wanted a bomb flower but now I want a keese eyeball and that’s all the way at the other end of the menu! Is he frustrated w that? (Ik technically it’s “paused” when I do that but let’s say he’s still conscious when I’m doing that it’s just everything around him is frozen in time. So like he’s just crouching there waiting for me to finally attach an eyeball lol).

Or what about the sages?? I love them all so much but trying to find them (and the right one when u have all of them) and activate their ability is sometimes annoying. I’ll want Sidon’s shield for a second but instead Tulin does his gust. Or when I’m just trying to pick something up he’ll blow it away lol. What does Tears think of that?

Sorry this got so long. I understand I had like 4 ideas in this ask, they all just came into my mind at once lol.

I think he'd get a bit upset over you yelling at him, he gets that you're worried that he'll get hurt but it's not always his fault? sometimes sure but it's just starting to hurt his feelings more than anything. when you're playing he's just a puppet in your hands and as much as he loves you he's still 'a person'. if you struggle to even put him anywhere near that position soon then well, it's not like you can yell at him again for it right? he doesn't want to upset you after all.

I don't think that he'd ever blame you for console defects like that, hell he could even be behind a good number of them, it's not your fault the game is buggy. The only time he could ever be bothered by it is is you close out of the game because its so buggy, if the game is getting to the point where it's bordering on unplayable he still can't blame you but it'll get under his skin so much more. is he not good enough for you? is his game not good enough for you to work through the glitches? don't be surprised if you can't exit the game or turn off your switch for a bit :3 surely nothing has gotten corrupted or broken beyond repair right? No he hasn't sabotaged it himself, how could he - why would he?

The menu is honestly pretty sucky at times for throwing items and sticking them to your arrows, besides from reshuffling it to get what you need to be closer to where you start scrolling from. I think tears is most likely to get irritated at the games own design for that, because it'd be so much easier for him to just grab what you needed from his pad to fuse it onto one of his arrows but he just can't, he's stuck having to abide by the rules of the game, watching you struggle with the admittedly awful UI Nintendo cursed him with. If he wasn't so stressed about you resetting him - or worse reporting your 'faulty' copy of the game. he'd take his own steps to make it better for you - maybe he'll even do it earlier if you carry on struggling like this. He just needs to get more confident about it <3

the sages probably mess with him so much, he wants you ALONE and now he's constantly got these guys running around him?? he's gotta interact with them to try and get his abilities (lwk this could make him more jealous of wild who gets to have you one on one all of the time) And most of the sages abilities are optional anyway so I mean, maybe you won't notice if he simply disables them right? he won't delete them outright so if you miss them you can use them but if you don't reactivate them? maybe he could.... so then it'll be just you and him, just link.

[emperor-palpaminty]

Crosshair x chronically ill/disabled reader? I'm a disabled female and there's not a lot of fics out there that represent me

Oh my sweet!! I am also chronically ill/disabled and it really can be sucky. I am sure that our issues are different, so I'm going to pull a little bit from my own experiences.

Fluff and comfort, female reader. They're done with fighting and they're chilling on their cool beach planet. I hope this helps you 💚🧄

"Mesh'la," The voice was raspy and soft with a stunning lack of its typical venom. Nothing followed, no suggestions or questions- just space for you to fill. Except you couldn't bring yourself to.

This shit sucked. It was hard to remember when it wasn't like this in the midst of it. Swimming in pain made it difficult to remember what soldi ground felt like. Dizzying. Spinning. Drowning, even-

"Hey." A hand grasped your arm- not harshly, but firm still, keeping you in place. "You're hurting."

What would you normally say? A quip? A snarky comment to his question? The pain couldn't even spare you that, though, and you just kept your eyes shut. You only inclined your head to indicate a yes before you felt him pulling you down.

Warm sand met your body and you were pulled against him. War hardened a man, but ending it made him soften to you. He said no words, just holding you, the tremoring hand of his resting against your back.

Between wave crashes, you wandered if he missed when his hand didn't hurt. If he cursed the state of it, called it stupid.

"I do," Crosshair muttered. "Most days, actually. But less than before."

Kark. You said that out loud. Your face warmed from embarassment, but you just chuffed softly against him. It took another two breaths before you asked (and heard yourself this time), "It really gets better?"

"Yes. And no." Crosshair shifted slightly, hand still resting on you. "The pain never does. You learn to deal with it however best you can."

"And... Is that the better or...?"

Even though your eyes were still squeezed shut, you could envision his lips pursed in thought from the considerate hum he gave before his response. His denim pants were rough as you laid your head in his lap, but his presence itself was comforting. "I would say that is the better part," He finally decided. "You learn what you can do, and your... limitations." Shame filled every syllable, but he spoke quickly to move away from any potential spin-off conversations. His fingers scratched your scalp gently, the fingers trembing slightly with the repeating movement of his joints. "But you learn. Some days it is better."

"And others?"

There was quiet. Again, he did not answer- but he didn't need to, really. The weight of the sun pressed down from above, healing in some ways, on this planet where war no longer exsisted. Hopefully, by the next sunrise, you would feel a little better, and if not, at least you had someone who understood and would stand by you through it all.

[ghost-with-a-teacup]

Hey, idk if requests are open but could you write a fic where the reader gets back stabbed by her only friends (them shit-talking her behind her back when she’s already going through shit) and Ghost’s reaction to the reader telling him about this?

It’s literally just happened to me so it’s kind of sucky. Thank you if you do end up doing this, it means a lot to me. Take care of yourself and have a lovely day <3

𝐒𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐚𝐥𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ~ 𝐒𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐧 '𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭' 𝐑𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐲 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Summary: After a long and difficult mission that completely goes wrong you return to base for a much-needed break. Instead, you're met with harsh words overheard by the friends you held dear, and it breaks you. Luckily Simon is there to hold you for as long as you need. OR Simon is sweet and soft and holds you close as you cry. Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x GN!Reader Word Count: 2.7K Warnings: Bullying, cursing, mentions of violence but other than that it's just really soft. Hurt/Comfort is my favouriteee. Author's Note: Hi Anon, I'm sorry it took so long for me to finish your request, and I'm even more sorry that this happened to you. But you don't need my pity, instead, hopefully, this fic acts as a bit of comfort, what happened to you was really shitty. Ghost will make it feel better though :))

It was a gnawing sort of feeling, betrayal. One that ate away at your very soul and left nothing but pain in its wake. The action alone may not be the worse thing in the entire world, something that anyone would look at and be forced to look away from because it was that terrible. But what made betrayal ache was that in the before, in its place, was trust.

Trust comes differently to everyone, to some it may be as simple as a flick of the wrist, whereas for others it may be a slow uphill climb, but once established, it should not be broken. It should never be expected to be broken, because at its root that is what trust is, is it not? To place a piece of your soul into another person’s hand and believe that they will treat it gently.

And yet sometimes, people grasp onto that and squeeze as tightly as they can until it shatters into irreparable pieces.

~

“Gods they’re such a fuck up all the time, who wants to place bets as to why their mission failed? Oh! I know! Them,” Roxanne had sneered before laughing along with the rest of the group. The group you had once called friends. You listened in from the shadows as they talked loudly in the corridor, false hope building in your chest because maybe, just maybe, they weren’t talking about you.

“Gods I don’t even know why they were allowed to go in that mission in the first place, Ghost and Soap? They’re the best of the best, and then…” Lucille said, trailing off and allowing them to fill in the blanks. Your heart drops, weighing as heavy as the gear you still wore from the mission. You hadn’t even had time to go back to your room yet and word had already spread of the result of the mission.

You had seen your friends in the hallway, ready to go greet them all before you overheard their conversation. About you.

It had already been a difficult few weeks already. It seemed as though every mission you had gone on went awry. Whether it’d be faulty intel or teammate injury, hell, one time the people you were after weren’t even at the base you were set to infiltrate! Regardless, you had failed.

The one mission prior to this one had been the worst though. You were on a recon mission when all of a sudden the enemies were raining down hellfire. You were the sniper of the team, their eyes in the sky if anything went awry. It allowed you to protect your team in a way you couldn’t on the ground. It was a difficult gunfight but your team was pulling through and the end was near. But then you spotted a child huddled behind a dumpster a bit of a ways off in the distance, trembling as she covered her ears from the sound.

You had radioed in that you were going to help her, but received orders back that you were to continue killing off enemy soldiers until there was no one left, it would compromise the mission should you abandon your team for this child.

But you knew that your team could handle themselves, and like hell you were going to let this little kid be out there in the open. That was a death wish! And you were not going to see a civilian die if you had a say in it. So you had dropped your position to save this kid, putting her in a safer spot until the end of the fight.

Your team had made it back alive, with a few more injuries than necessary, but alive. But that wasn’t good enough for your superior, so you got the chewing out of a lifetime.

“The HELL were you thinking compromising the entire fucking mission for a god damned civvy?! I could have you written up for this, disobeying direct orders when the entire team was in danger. You know your duty, you cannot compromise the mission, whatever the fuck the reason may be.”

All you were able to squeak out was a ‘Yes, Sir’ before you were sent out of the office, tears threatening to fall.

That mission had eaten away at you for the longest time and had you questioning whether you were right enough for the job. Putting the mission first? Even at the risk of killing innocents, you had the capability of saving? That mission was the breaking point, and whispers began on base as people began to recognize the common factor in each of the missions that went wrong. You.

It was a miracle it didn’t meet Simon’s ears really, how often people would gossip behind your back. You knew that if he even caught the faintest wind of it he would be tearing people apart left and right.

Your sweet, sweet boyfriend.

You knew that he noticed something was up, but that man was anything if not patient and would never prod at anything you weren’t willing to tell. Because he understood better than anyone that sometimes things were difficult to talk about. And so, he waited for you to come to him. But you never did.

“Isn’t that a little mean? I mean, you know missions don’t always go to plan, even the best of the best still mess up. And isn’t she ranked the best in our unit? Surely-” Stella said before she was cut off sharply.

“Enough, Stella, you know she’s not worth it,” Mikayla bites back snarkily, making Stella shrink into herself.

Well, at least one person stood up for you.

“I don’t care if they’re Ares himself, why should they get to go on these high-profile missions with the 141 while we’re out here getting the scraps?”

Oh, so that’s what it was. Jealousy. A disgusting emotion, no doubt, but that wasn’t an excuse to be horrible to someone you called a friend.

They were your closest friends on the base, the ones you had movie nights with, and went bar hopping with knowing they would protect your drink with their life. You were close to the 141 too, but with them, it was a different vibe entirely. 141 were your friends and colleagues, but they also knew you as Simon’s partner as well. But the other friend group, well, seemed as though they weren’t your friends as much anymore.

How long had they been thinking like this? How many times had you hung out with them only for them to show their fakest selves?

Looking back now, it all began to make sense, all the backhanded compliments and snarky comments. You brushed them off as playful banter but it all added up now.

You didn’t even have the heart to confront them, because while they were being cruel, there were many moments too precious to you that you wanted to cling onto. At least for a little while longer. You knew it wasn’t healthy, Gods know that if you could let them go in a snap it would be so much better, but it wasn’t that easy.

Tears brimming your eyes, you slipped through the shadows and out of sight, headed to your room where you could take a shower and just forget it all.

You walked through the hallways silently, head tilted toward the floor to avoid anyone’s gaze, you knew you wouldn’t be able to handle anyone else’s judgement, not today at least.

Right as you arrived in front of your door an arm is held up in front of you, blocking your way. You blink hard to force away the tears before your head snaps up to the person. All you’re met with is the familiar pale skull mask, and the comfort it brings you makes a sob climb up to your throat that you choke back down.

“Mind if a join you for a bit?” Simon asks, voice gentle as his gaze trails over your face and the expression you can no longer find the ability to hide from him.

You only nod as you go to unlock your door, knowing that your words would fail you if you tried to speak.

He follows you closely from behind, clicking the door closed. At long last you could let your guard fall down, tears pouring from your eyes as you sob. Your legs no longer have the capability to hold you up as you lose yourself to the sorrow, but before you can hit the floor Simon is capturing you in his arms and pulling you to his chest.

He doesn’t say anything, knowing that nothing he could say right now was what you needed. No, all you needed at this moment was to be held, to know you were loved.

With careful hands he guides you to the bed, lying down first before pulling you down on top of him. One arm was wrapped around your waist as the other was gently holding your head, allowing you to cry into his sweater.

And that you did, for longer than you would admit. You loathed crying, it felt weak, it’s what was instilled in you since you were young. You knew this wasn’t the case, but habits were hard to unlearn. Crying was a way to express emotion, a healthy and normal way to, but in this type of work, you couldn’t afford to show emotions. That’s what got you, and others, killed.

But you were only human after all.

So you cried, and you cried, and Simon only held you close, even as his own heart broke as he listened to your broken sobs. If he could will your pain to go away, to become his own, he would do so in an instant. But that’s not the way the world works, so he would be here for you in every way that he could.

~

After a little while your sobs had died down to only the occasional sniffle, the tears run dry. You don’t say anything though as you try to collect yourself fully, but that was alright with Simon. He does however sweep you away to the washroom, carrying you like a bride that brings the tiniest quirk of a smile to your lips at the cheesiness of the action.

Placing you down on the countertop he wets a washcloth wordlessly, before trailing it up and down your face with soft hands, the dried-up tears washing away with it. The tenderness of the action makes your heart melt as you lean into his touch, soothing the pain if only a little bit.

“Wanna tell me what’s been going on, sweetheart?” He asks cautiously, prodding but patient. You only sigh softly before looking up at him, his mask long gone, taken off some time in between when you were crying and now.

You can’t help but reach out to stroke over his face, a smile gracing your lips that don’t quite meet your eyes, but it's an effort. His face was still rough with stubble after the long mission, not that you minded in the slightest. His eyes close as he relishes your touch.

“It’s just…” you pause, trying to find the right words to say. “Things have been, rough, lately, I guess. All the missions that have been going wrong, they have just been piling up I suppose, and they were weighing me down.”

His eyes open as he listens to you speak, the hazel colour meeting your own, leaving you feeling like you were bearing your soul for him to see.

“That one mission with Captain Oberon was the worst I think. I know saving that kid was the right thing to do, or at least that’s what I tell myself. I mean, if I can’t save one fucking kid in a job that’s supposed to ‘save the world’ then what good am I for?” You say, your tone irritated at yourself more than anyone.

“But I think that was the breaking point, where I started to question what I was really doing here. What’s ‘top of my unit’ if I can’t do the one thing I’m meant to do? That’s…when the whispers started. Saying how I was the reason missions kept going wrong, how I was the ‘bad luck charm’ and such,” Simon’s eyes harden as he takes in your words before he collects himself, knowing now was not the time to be angry.

“And I know that they’re not my fault, believe me, I do. Things go wrong all the time on the job, it’s what’s expected really. But then,” you trail off, a shuddering breath escaping your lips as you feel your eyes well up once more.

Simon’s thumb catches them before they fall, however, and you smile at him for a moment before continuing.

“But then I come back from our mission today, and I see my friends in the hallway talking. Here I am, thinking that I can find a moment of repose in this difficult world when all I hear is them saying these cruel things, about how I’m the fuck up, and how it’s not fair that I get to go on missions with the task force because I don’t deserve to. And I know that I’m not the reason why missions go wrong because sometimes that’s just how the world goes, but…” your head slumps over, forehead pressing into Simon’s shoulder.

“But when half the world tells you that you’re the reason why, it’s hard not to believe them too,” you whisper brokenly.

For a moment the washroom is silent, but all at once Simon’s arms are wound tightly around you in a hug so all-encompassing it only makes you cry once more.

“Never believe what they say, alright doll? You are one of the best soldiers I have ever seen on the field, your tactical skills and intelligence carry every team that you’re on, and I say that with every ounce of truth. I have never seen anyone more efficient and fucking badass than you, don’t forget that now, alright? I will continue to say this until you believe me entirely,” he says, his tone final, so full of confidence that you can’t help but believe him too.

“Okay,” you whisper, but that’s good enough for him.

“Do you need me to do anything?” he says, his tone hardened as thoughts of what he could do to everyone who has done you wrong fly through his head at 100 miles per minute.

“No,” you say panicked before recovering, pulling away to look at him. “no.” A bit more softly.

“I can deal with them myself. I know I don’t have to prove anything to them, but I can damn well show them that I’m meant to be where I am. Their jealous asses can suck it,” you say harshly but self-assured, and Simon can’t help the smirk that forms on his face. He was proud knowing that you could more than handle yourself.

...That did not, however, mean that he was not going to put them through absolute hell in training.

“There you are,” he says fondly, hand brushing your hair back. “You show them, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you say, the first true smile forming today.

“Let’s go make some pancakes,” he says, sweeping you up into his arms. On instinct your legs wrap around his waist.

“Right now?” you say with a laugh, and he can’t help but chuckle along.

“Right now.”

[tired-biscuit]

MISS BISCUIIIITTTTTAAAAAAAAAA !!!!!! Kiba my beloved grumpy yet golden hearted elder werewolf teaching us how to act like a real person after a traumatic event!!!!!!!!!!! I need a 30000000000 part series!!!!!!!!! AUGHOUFHSBJABSJWN I know you've imagined the weirdly sad hate fucking that turns into some kind of relationship that is both sweet and violent!!!!!!! I know you see the vision!!!! The tension!! The pain!!! The drama!!!! The romance!!!!! Nobody else is giving me juicy visions like miss biscuit!!!!!!!

yes oh my gosh, i see it as like a platonic companionship in the beginning that eventually turns into a found family (friend?) situation and finally into an actual bond with mutual attraction/pining!

it’s rare that i use this word for kiba, but i’m thinking slowburn for this particular AU. like painful, intense, infuriating, hair-pulling, screaming-into-the-pillow slooowburn.

you’re just too distracted by the changes that are happening to your mind and body alike to be thinking about being intimate with someone - better yet, you don’t trust yourself to be, with your newly-acquired fangs and claws and short temper - and he’s far too busy stressing over you to actually think about you in that kind of way; as well as getting used to no longer being alone in this sucky situation, and of course keeping you in-check so that you don’t end up accidentally exposing the secret that you both share by biting someone’s head off.

so neither of you thinks about sex for the longest time. well, he does - at least far more quickly than you do - but not like, with you, you know…? just the standard, occasional wave of hormones that doesn’t really mean anything and that makes him take care of the need on his own or maybe hook up with someone from time to time. but that’s pretty much it.

it’s only when you finally start settling down and feeling somewhat comfortable in your skin that your libido slowly announces its return and you begin to pay attention to other things than surviving one day at a time.

like the way his adam’s apple bobs in his throat when he throws his head back and gulps down water after he’s done with his run, for example. or how he spreads his legs wide open and leans back when he sits on your couch. or how good his hands feel on your strong legs when he goes to help you stretch, really pushing your limits. the way his sweat smells. his scent in general.

the whole thing gets super frustrating and confusing real quick, especially by how inhumanly strong the pull you feel towards him is. it’s not even because it’s him necessarily, more so because there are actual physical changes plaguing you. a steady heat burns between your thighs. your panties aren’t just damp, they get slick with want. your mouth literally salivates at the thought of being able to slam your hips down onto a cock, feeling the fullness it provides. the sensations are nothing like the ones you had before you changed, and experiencing them all of a sudden sends you back on your progress when it comes to managing your rage.

he notices the shift in your behaviour rather quick, and it doesn’t take him long to figure out what the problem is either. after all, the arousal you’ve begun to feel for him basically drips off of your scent, exposing you further. it doesn’t really take a genius to put the pieces together, just a werewolf with a keen sense of smell.

and i think he almost finds it endearing, kind of…? you, getting wet over him. he’s smug about it, of course he is, and it pisses you off greatly, but inflated male ego aside, he’s mostly pleased that he’s succeeded in making you feel secure enough in your own body for it to start seeking intimate connection and yearn for sex.

but yeah, while you do feel more secure, you still have your ups and downs. things still trigger you pretty darn fast and you’re definitely still unpredictable. the only difference now is that you get horny as well on top of all the crap you’re going through. great.

luckily for you, he’s got just the thing you need. and the best thing about it is that he isn’t some fragile human… he can actually take everything you throw his way; every scratch, bite, squeeze and shove. his endurance matches yours. perhaps it even tops it.

you don’t need to be scared. you don’t have to hold back at all.

[misterier]

what about carl grimes x male reader who is glenn’s younger brother?? maybe the reader was split up from glenn and was reunited with him at alexandria. also could the reader be pretty outgoing, sociable, and funny (a bit of a flirt too??). honestly do whatever you want with it i just crave carl grimes ❤️❤️❤️

|| I thought this was an episode and spend days going over episodes and giving up so I just decided to make my own, I'm sorry this took so long bro! And sorry its kinda short n sucky I had no idea what to do 😭

——————————-———————————-

You were really beginning to regret asking your brother to take you and your boyfriend for a hunt, the three of you were completely apart. Man you were scared as hell, your machete was firmly squeezed into your fists, humor was your survival mechanism so you had to make some kind of joke right? Nothing better than being out in the middle of nowhere by yourself. "Knock knock?" You wondered, laughing at yourself, "Who's there?" You answered, not even two hours of being alone and you were losing it. "Interrupting cow" "Interrupting cow wh-" "MOO!"" You whisper shouted, practically cackling while swinging your machete in your hand aimlessly.

You'd heard the same joke three times already, and you were getting sick of it. You stopped in the middle of the woods and slapped yourself hard across the face, and bounced on your feet quickly as if you were about to box someone, get your head in the game man. You’re gonna find them. All of the sudden you were grinning again, you had this. You’re going to get back to your boyfriend and your brother.  

At this point you were running through the leaves, not a care in the world as you strained your voice to call out the boys’ names. “CARL! GLENN-” “Y/n?” Your head spun quicker than a gun barrel “Carl!” You beamed clenching your machete and running full force to him so you could tackle him. Carl's arms were held out wide for you a relieved smile on his face.

The two of you held each other tightly, gripping at eachothers jackets for dear life. "I missed you," muttered Carl against your neck while he nearly destroyed your ribs with the mere force of his hug. 

You pulled away with a confident smile, “It's only been like an hour? You really love me allot huh?” Carl’s face flushed red and he attempted to hide it with his hat “No- I mean- I love you but I’m not like- desperate or anything.”

You couldn't contain your laughter and your burst out in cackles while he stood embarrassed, “Shut up!” You smiled back up at him and raised your hands in surrender. “Fine, we have to find Glenn anyway.”

Your boyfriend nodded and grabbed your free hand and walked with you through the thick woods, “’M pretty sure we split up ‘round here,” He said firmly and let go of your hand, his head turning constantly to look in the trees on one side while you looked through the rest. You could hear the sound of Alexandrians talking amongst themselves, you where close to home and you still had no idea where Glenn was.

“Just look at us, all alone.” You flirted in a joking manner, moving closer to elbow your boyfriend who slapped your arm and scoffed, also joking. “Y/n! There could be baby squirrels out here!” You both burst into loud laughter. You grinned at your boyfriends laughing face and planted a soft kiss to his cheek and you felt something hit your shoulder, you turned confused, apparently Carl was hit as well because he looked in the same durriction.

You turned to look up slowly, low and behold, Glenn was up in the tree, his legs dangling down and a smile spared on his face. “You boys are gross.” The older man scoffed, jumping down to his feet. 

You lifted your hand to create an ‘L’ with your thumb and index but Glenn just ruffled your hair. “Come on, dinners probably done by now.” You and Carl rolled your eyes but followed eagerly after him.

Your smiles were contagious Glenn found his cheeks hurting after just looking at the two of you holding hands and grinning ear to ear. The thing you two had was absolutely adorable.

[tremorsmackenzie]

I have another idea for a fanfic.

tw: daisys depression and generally sucky time in season 4

Basically, Daisy gets taken into the Framework instead of Fitz. After some flavourtext about how 4x16 would differ if there was no doctor and fitzsimmons had to find their path in the framework, the resistance base would get attacked, and theyd have to evacuate and relocate to a backup base - afterlife, as it turns out, because if aida doesnt need to provide fitz with specimen to study, it should be fine. There, they'd be greeted by the inhumans second in command, a woman named daisy johnson. She begrudgingly lets in shield, but is pretty miffed about it since theyre barely better than Hydra in her opinion. There are tensions, and fitzsimmons find out that daisy lost her dad when Hydra emerged and started tracking down subversives. Aka, her life is pretty sad here as well. Convincing daisy that this is all fake is pretty damn impossible, since shes not very receptive to the idea that her actual life in the real world is even worse than this. It takes a hydra attack that kills jiaying and most of the inhumans in front of her to get her to come around, and its mostly because she has nothing left to lose at that point.

Thoughts?

Edit: there would also be a scene about lmd!daisy attacking fitzsimmons in the real world and retriggering all of fitz' ptsd about hive!daisy before they plug themselves in.

Also, aidas motivations would be pretty basic and unimportant here because she isnt literally trying to become a real girl for fitz.

Title would be change you like a remix from that one song by fall out boy.

And there would be lots of scenes with daisy and a jiaying who hasnt been abducted and tortured by Whitehall, but has instead raised her daughter with her husband.

i mean, a daisy who got to grow up in a loving home, surrounded by chinese and inhuman culture. the POTENTIAL. may and daisy suddenly being able to bond over chinese things as the children of asian-american immigrants. daisy actually being able to speak chinese, albeit with an accent. the pain of may and daisy being immediatley hostile towards each other once they meet in afterlife. the implications down the line of a daisy who feels even more responsible for the inhumans in the space arc of season 5a, and who would be able to shower them with the inhuman culture none of them ever got to experience. i am going insane over here.

[sublimecatgalaxy]

Hi, could I please have a Daryl Dixon comfort/fluff request where the reader got her period and it's a sucky one so Daryl comforts her please and thank you?

I love this so much! Thank you for the request, friend❤️

"What's wrong with you today?" Daryl's voice startles me from my half asleep state, my eyes cracking open so I can look at him through the bars of my cell, a groan escaping me as the stabbing feeling in my lower stomach returns.

"Stop it." I mutter, waving him away but he just chuckles under his breath, pushing the door open with a loud creak.

"I didn't do nothing. Just askin' a question." He steps up to the side of my bed with a sigh, head tilting curiously at me as I tuck my knees to my chest, sucking in a breath of air. The pain is worthy enough of knocking me cold on the ground and I bury my face into my pillow even more, avoiding Daryl's prying eyes. "You sick or something?"

"Not sick." I groan, suddenly feeling a wave of annoyance wash over me and I feel my bed dip beside me, Daryl's hand reaching out to rest on my aching hip.

"Oh." He mutters and there's a shift in the atmosphere around us and I finally lift my eyes to look up at him. "Oh, alright, alright. I'll leave you alone then." He suddenly has a look of realization that passes across his expression and I feel a mortified rush of terror run down my spine.

"Wait." I reach out to grab onto his hand before he can run away and I suck in a breath as another wave of pain crashes over me, a pitiful wine escaping me. "Can you just-"

"Yeah, sure." He says before I can even finish my sentence, his hand not leaving mine as he settles back down onto the bed. "It hurt?"

"Like a motherfucker." I chuckle and a small smile slips across his lips, thumb brushing against my own.

"'m sorry." I can't help but curl myself into him, enjoying the warmth that he has to offer in this cold, damp cell that's doing nothing to aid my pain or my mood. "Need anythin'?" He asks softly.

"No, just to lay here in a ball of misery." He chuckles, eyes rolling sillily at my drama and I allow myself to giggle. Daryl rubs my hip gently as I groan loudly, stomach cramping severely as tears prick at my eyes. "Can you rub my back?" I ask through a strained gasp and I can tell that it must've taken him by surprise based on the parting of his lips and widening of his eyes.

"Yeah I can do that." He whispers and I roll onto my stomach, a shiver running down my spine at the feeling of Daryl pushing my tank top up so he can rub my lower back with his large hands. I shove my smiling face into the pillow beneath me to conceal my giddy excitement but I know he can sense it, he knows me better than that.

"Thanks Daryl. I appreciate it."

"I got you."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o- Taglist: @bubblebuttwade @rafelover2405 @leslienjazzy @sorceresss @grxnde-dwt @alex–awesome–22 @bunnietoof @niyamar1e @serialghost @plantlungs @geniusohn @akaliltimmytim @lilaalouuxx @xshariex @elliotsbeigeguitar @elle4404 @lelieja @srhxpci @joselyn001 @taysirene @spinkspanther @thedivineuphoria @peter-maximoffs @tsukishimawhore @poohkie90 @szlaco @distantsighs @nstyles4299 @wolflover384 @givemefoodandlovesstuff @vane28282 @yeswhatever33 @amirrahfranson @vvaalleennttiinna @f-mu @yaspillz @jeyramarie @skylievin@abbybarnes17 @jointherebellion215 @visiondaddy @steezysimfinds @its-ya-gay-boi-luigi @crunchytoenailsyum@glizzymcguirex @beth123lg @melovesmut @rafecameronswhore @ariianelle @write-from-the heart @vampviolets@haylee-e @honee-chai-tea @lokiandbuckywife

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[gardengnosticator]

i cant talk shit about DE too much because i didnt play it. i did watch a walkthrough but you know, its a choice based narrative game so not actually having my choices picked kinda defeats the purpose. all i can say is it tries a LOT of things, and the success rate on those things are very hit and miss. i can SAFELY say im not a big fan of LiS becoming just... a max caulfield series, i liked it as semi-connected anthology of random people who are granted a bizarre power and forced to bust a mystery than just, hey folks its max again! the pricefield stuff could have been better and thats me being very very polite about it but im just a fan so my opinion on how a ship is handled means nothing to the actual developers.

at the very least, the comics make it clear that theres alternate timelines and universes out there so inherently you CAN just ignore it, and the fact that the lis2 easter egg photo is different kind of hints that this is an offshoot of everything but still, its kinda sucky at least to be because i feel you could do pricefield splitting in more impressive and emotionally impactful manner and the way its handled in DE makes me think it was a very rushed decision and approved of just as fast.

this isnt me being a hater, im a grown ass woman and have shit to do but yeah this is pretty much all i can coherently describe about what the DE experience, as someone viewing it from a distance.

oh safi and moses are very very good.

[cyberrose2001]

Hello! May I request a TFP Ratchet x Gn! reader, scenario.

maybe Reader is always kinda just butting heads with Ratchet when it comes to the kids, care and health cause Rewder is a nurse.

TFP Ratchet x Nurse!GN!Reader

Being a nurse myself, I wrote a little bit of this from my own experience, so that's kinda fun :)

Here a lil oneshot for you anon, I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: SFW, Medical talk/terminology/tools (aka sharp object)

Word count: 781

You're exhausted. The pounding headache radiates to your sore feet as you shuffle into the Autobot base. You probably look like shit, and there's a good reason. You've come into contact with too many bodily fluids of different kinds today, and you sorely need a decontamination shower. Not to mention the number of times you've had to re-insert IV lines in a very, very confused elderly woman. You had given up the fight and called her doctor to tell him that you were not willing to get sucker punched in the guts again. Days like today make you question your career choice.

But as sucky as it is, it's also rewarding. Your knowledge and expertise have often helped the kids when they're injured, sick or straight-up infected by the blood of an ancient god of chaos inhabiting the very planet your sore legs are walking upon.

Yeah, other healthcare professionals could learn a thing or two from you.

Speaking of other 'healthcare professionals', Ratchet has been getting on your nerves more than usual lately. Ever since Raf almost died at the hands of dark energon, he insists that he helps with the health and wellbeing of the kids, despite knowing next to nothing about the anatomy and homeostasis of humans other than the fact that "If they get underfoot, they will go… squish." in his words. So, in his minimal spare time, he researched different diseases and injuries common among humans and the treatments for each. And while you appreciated his dedication to better his understanding of humans, he was becoming a hypochondriac in the process.

Like right now. You had walked in on Ratchet, giving Jack a complete head-to-toe assessment. The poor kid was lying face down on one of the human-sized gurneys while Ratchet poked and prodded at his back, and oh my god, is that a scalpel.

"Ratchet!" You call out, running over to the gurney as fast as your tired legs can manage, "What the hell are you doing?"

"Nurse Y/n, you're just in time!" Ratchet exclaims, "I have detected a malignant mass of cells on the left periscapular region of Jack's skin and require your assistance in its removal."

You could not have deadpanned at him any harder, "You got all that just by looking at it? Let me see."

Ratchet steps back as your dermatitis-ridden hands touch the 'malignant mass of cells' to examine it, and you roll your eyes to find that it's not what Ratchet thinks it was.

"Ratchet, that's just a mole." You say, then you give Jack a few pats on the back, "It's alright, nothing to worry about. You're free to go."

Jack drags himself off the gurney and hastily puts his shirt back on, mouthing a silent 'thank you' as he speed walks as fast as he can away from a very stunned Ratchet, who still wields his scalpel. You look back up at him with a very unimpressed look, folding your arms.

"Are you serious?" You say, "You were just gonna slice off a mole because you thought it was malignant?"

Ratchet huffs, putting down the scalpel before throwing his servos on his hips, rolling his optics, "If you had any competence at all, you would've already examined it months ago and determined that this 'mole' is, in fact, deadly!"

"He's had that thing for years since he was born!" You growl. Your patience is wearing thin like your skin that's been abused from all the alcohol gel you used today, "June told me he's already had it looked at. You need proper reason and consent from the patient before taking a blade to the skin. Jack was clearly unwilling. Did they not teach you this stuff in 'Robot Medical Ethics 101' or whatever the hell you call it?"

"Jack is a child," Ratchet scoffs yet again, and it's taking all of your strength not to climb up his chassis and strangle his neck cabling into oblivion, "I am a physician. I had merely overridden his consent and took matters into my own servos."

You facepalm so hard that you are sure your face has condensed into a black hole from the force. Frustrated, you then rub your forehead, "Look, I know you're trying to help the kids. I can see that. But I really need to shower before my legs collapse. How about I do that and then come back to teach you the proper method of patient evaluation and consent procedures?"

Ratchet quirks an optic ridge before a small smile ever so slightly creeps onto his dermas, "As much as I dislike the thought of a human teaching me about medical procedures, I would very much appreciate the gesture."

[ciaossu-imagines]

Day 1, promot 1, nr 3 with me boy Dera

Honestly i know its supposed to be smutty and all but the thought of dera coming home to his s/o and he is drenched in blood and they help him shower bc he is just focking exhausted is a form of intimacy and sexual that doesnt even need anything more tbh.

The inherent eroticism of washing blood off of someone.

I totally agree with you and it’s such a compelling and evocative prompt this way! Thank you so much for sending this in and I hope you’ll enjoy the drabble. Where it never actually gets into smut territory, instead going heavily instead into angst territory, I’m going to leave this without a cut.

3) our muses take a shower together to wash blood off each other

The grandfather clock in the corner of the room echoed a little within the stillness of the room. Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock…boing! It announced the hour loudly, startling you out of your mostly asleep state you’d been in, curled up on the couch with a well-loved and oft-read paperback in your hand that now fell onto the floor. Cursing under your breath, a wry smile on your face at the thought of how silly you must have seemed, almost jumping out of your skin over a couple of loud sounds, you readjusted yourself on the couch, leaning down to pick up the book. You turned your face to look at the clock as you tossed the book onto the coffee table, your lips pursing a little as you noticed the time. Midnight already? Gokudera was a lot later than he thought he would be. When he’d messaged you earlier, he’d figured he’d be home by ten, ten-thirty at the latest.

Looking around, you spotted your phone where you must have tossed it earlier, over on the television stand. With a sigh at the thought of having to stand, you stretched out your body, hearing a couple creaks and pops from the way it had stiffened in the awkward position you’d dozed off in, and reluctantly got to your feet, heading over to grab your phone. Maybe you’d missed a text, caught up in reading or nodded off. While Hayato was a sucky texter, it was unlike him to not send at least a word or two to let you know he’d be late or was held up overnight, especially since you’d explained to him countless times that it made you feel a lot safer and less worried about him. Clicking over to his messages, you found nothing, just the last text telling you when he expected to be back. Your brow furrowed as you stared at the screen. Your fingers itched to switch over to the call screen, to hear his voice and know he was okay. Yet you kept hesitating, unable to press the button.

When you and Hayato had first gotten together, you’d fallen hard and fast. You’d wanted to be texting him all throughout the day. You’d wanted to spend as much time together as possible, had wanted the long phone calls. To you, it had only been natural, but to Gokudera, it had been stifling – you were clingy, too much, and the arguments had been brutal. Once or twice in the early days, the two of you had broken up, only to find yourselves back together. The arguments had continued, going on and on. While you’d worked on not being so clingy, Hayato had a bad habit of getting engrossed in something, some thing he was researching, working on, learning about, or in business with the Family, and completely losing track of time. He’d skip out on dates, only to apologize profusely afterwards when he realized, or he’d just not show up at night, staying all night in his office. Your anxieties had gotten the better of you and you’d started to obsess over the possibilities that he was getting into someone else, not something else. The arguments had started up in earnest again…through it all though, the two of you had always stayed together. You’d learned to trust him a bit more, to be more secure in both yourself and your relationship with him. He’d started being more mindful about things like texting you, about giving you the heads up when he’d be home, to be more considerate of you.

But you were both human. You slipped occasionally, and so did he. You figured this just must be one of those times. Maybe he’d gone to grab a late-night meal with one of the others, maybe he’d gotten caught up in paperwork or in reading one of his many collection of textbooks. Maybe he’d been training and gotten so into the groove of it all that he hadn’t realized it was now creeping into the early morning. There were so many possibilities. Him being late didn’t necessarily have to mean anything bad.

You kept reassuring yourself of that fact as you let the screen of the phone darken, putting it back down on the television screen. You stretched out your legs, walking around the apartment. You got changed into your pyjamas, brushed your teeth, did your skincare routine. You refilled the water and food in the cat’s dishes, anything, everything to keep yourself busy. Through it all though, you just couldn’t stop yourself from looking at any clock around you, counting the minutes that ticked by, keeping an ear out for the sound of your phone’s text notifications. Once you’d exhausted everything you could think of to occupy your time, you sighed, wandering back out to the living room. You knew that, until you heard from him, you wouldn’t be able to sleep that evening. Your eyes went back to the book on the coffee table. Maybe that would be the distraction you needed…that, and some coffee.

You padded into the kitchen. Your eyes went again to the digital clock on the oven before you shook your head. No, none of that. You busied yourself with making a little snack plate before you headed to the coffee maker. Turning on the facet, you let the water run for a minute, zoning out to the sound of the running water splashing against the bottom of the sink, before you filled the coffee pot with water. You leaned against the countertop, letting your mind wander as the coffee percolated, watching it drip down and fill up the pot. You were just taking down your cup, hand reaching to grab the coffee pot when you heard the sound of a door opening. Your eyes widened and you were so eager to put your mind to rest that you were almost running out of the kitchen towards the small entryway off the living room, coffee pot still in hand.

Moments later, the coffee pot was falling from your hand, breaking against the floor. You barely felt the hot liquid against your feet because it was only there for the briefest of moments as you dashed forward. How could you not? The sight in front of you, Gokudera leaning against the door as he closed it behind him, his suit jacket falling to the floor. But all you could seem to see was the great big swatches of still damp blood soaking his white button-down red, smeared along his face, tainting his silvery locks, spotted here and there on his dark trousers. You were barely aware of how frantic your expression was, how fumbling your hands were as they touched his shoulders, his chest, his neck, trying to turn his face towards you. Your brain seemed to be almost entirely white noise, focused on that crimson colour, on his turned in posture and how Hayato’s head hung down, his eyes refusing to meet yours, almost unfocused as he stared at the floor.

His large hands came up to catch yours, almost cup them as he pushed them away from him.

“Don’t worry. None of it’s mine,” his voice seemed to wake you up a bit, to shake some of that white noise out of your head. You could feel the panic surging inside of you, threatening to drown you.  

“Don’t worry?! Are you insane? You’re covered in blood, of course I’m going to worry! What the hell is going on, Hayato?” Your voice was high-pitched, almost bordering on panicky but you couldn’t seem to help it. Your hands reached out again, touching his shoulder as you made to step closer to him, to get a better look at him. Again, he reached up, his movements gentle but firm, removing your hand and taking a step away from you, keeping his distance from you.

“It’s fine…I’m fine. I just…wanna go to bed.”

Your panic was almost choking you. It was a palpable feeling, both seeming as if it lived inside you, a writhing, heavy creature inhabiting your skin and trying to burst free, and as if it was an actual heavy weight outside of you, dropped onto your shoulders and chest. Yet, even with all that panic, something in your mind clicked. It was in the way he was leaning into himself, his posture withdrawn, almost skittish. In the moment, in the way he moved and how he avoided you, it was like Hayato was suddenly some wounded, scared animal. It was in how he wouldn’t raise his head, as if it suddenly weighed a ton, in how he wouldn’t look at you. In the few glances you’d managed, his normally emotion-filled eyes were glossy, almost dead, his face seeming to belong to someone far older than him. It was in his voice, in that dreadful calm, monotonous, robotic tone. It was all those things that made it so that, despite all your own panic, all your own fear and worry, you were able to stuff all those things down for the moment. You knew you’d have to feel later on, you’d have to properly deal with everything at later, but for now – for now, you had to take care of Hayato, you had to get him back somewhat to his normal.

“No. There’s no way in hell you’re getting into our bed looking like that.”

“I’ll take off the clothes, don’t worry,” Hayato said, walking slowly away from you. Your feet were quick and within a couple of large steps, you’d caught up to him, grabbing him by the arm and not allowing him to shake you off this time.

“Even without the clothes, you’re not getting into the bed like that. You need a shower, come on. I’ll take one with you and after that, I can spot treat your clothes, get them into the washer before we go to sleep.”

“Don’t waste your time. Just throw them out…” Gokudera’s voice seemed to falter then, his tongue tripping over ‘uhh’s’ and ‘hmm’s’ as if he was processing a difficult thought. “Actually, just burn them.”

Hayato was always one to argue with you, to bicker and throw comments about you bossing him around while still going along with whatever was happening. It could be tiring at times, but mostly it was, in its own way, charming and very comforting and comfortable for you. His complete lack of protest at your words, the way he just let you grab his hand, leading him to the bathroom, combined with his words was making your mind race, going through all the horrific possibilities. Just what had he been through tonight?

Entering the bathroom, you let go of his hand, turning to face him. Despite all your efforts, you still couldn’t make him meet your eyes. With a sigh, you lowered your own gaze, focusing on his shirt. Your fingers reached up, starting to slip buttons through fabric. The job was harder than you’d thought, the half-dried blood making the fabric crunchy, making the buttons not want to slip through as they should and you struggled a little. Eventually, you’d finally gotten most of them undone. As you pushed the fabric off his body, checking for any evidence of wounds that he might have been hiding from you and feeling relieved at the lack of any, you hurt as you noticed how his body almost recoiled away from your touch, his muscles and flesh flinching away from even the slightest trail of your fingernails. You didn’t let that stop you though, moving on to unbuckle his belt (another arduous task, given his love of big, flashy belt buckles that were never easy to undo) and strip off his pants. While normally you’d be staring at his naked body, admiring it, all your brain could focus on was even the barest hint of a bruise or a scratch.

Even as he seemed to be resistant to your touch, Gokudera never once stopped you. Instead, he just stood there, like a doll, as you’d undressed him. The silence in the room was almost deafening and you welcomed the sound of running water as you moved away from him, turning on the shower and getting the water to just the right temperature. You stripped yourself quickly, not making any sort of production out of it.

“Come on, in you get,” you said, keeping your tone low, quiet and gentle as you steered him into the shower with you. For a minute, you just let the water run over the two of you, making sure he was largely centered under the showerhead. You watched as the water running off him turned red, the floor of the shower almost artistic in the swirls and whirls of red mixed in with the clear water before it went down the drain. It was a little hypnotizing, but you pulled your eyes away, feeling morbid and wrong for your brief thought.

Gokudera followed your soft orders, meeting you halfway to allow you to slick some of your favourite, lavender scented shampoo onto his hair, lathering it up. Your fingers massaged his scalp, rubbing little circles, never applying too much force, but feeling better at how he didn’t flinch so much away from that as you rinsed his hair. Even better than that feeling was seeing his hair, gray with wetness, completely back to normal, without any indication that it had ever been bloodied that night.

Your hands went next to grab a loofah hanging on a hook in the shower. Lathering it up with his body wash, you started your work. You scrubbed every inch of his body, from his face all the way down to his toes. You lifted his arms for him, leaned your head against his back as you scrubbed his sides and torso. You noticed, as you did so, that Gokudera’s eyes were now shut tightly, squinched down hard, and his chest was rising and falling quicker than it normally did. As you rinsed him under the water, you started leaving kisses – along his shoulder blades, down his arms, on his fingers, down the length of his back. You just needed him to know that you were there, that he was okay and safe here with you.

It took you by surprise, as you had turned your back on him to hang the loofah back up, to feel a pair of strong arms suddenly encircling your waist, squeezing you so tight, pressing you back against him. You could feel his forehead resting against the top of your head, could feel his hot breath against your damp neck. You allowed him to just stay like that for god knew how long. His breathing was labored, halting, and his voice when it came out was shaky. You felt the harsh inhale, the hard burst of exhale ghosting across your skin as his words came.

“She’s dead….Bianchi…my sister is dead.”

[omnidemidisaster]

Kevin x Streber fluff

Request. BTW I have no idea on how to write Streber but I'll try my best! You can interpret whether it was before, after or during the 5th episode but eh

"Visit"

The bells on the door jingled, causing Kevin to look up. Instantly Kevin had a grin on his face. "Hey Kevin!"

A certain black haired fellow walked to the counter, holding a bag in his hands. "Hey Streber, what brings you here?" Kevin was notably in a better mood. Excited grin, happier and louder voice, and he even was bouncing on his feet a little.

"Nothing much, just wanted to say hi before I head to the haunted house. I wonder how its gonna play out this evening."

Kevin shrugged. "Hopefully it turns out at least decent. I know how hard you worked on it and it would be really sucky if it was less than decent"

"Yeah. In the end though, at least I'll be able to go home with cha!" Streber said, reaching his hand over to pinch Kevin's cheek in a teasing manner.

Kevin laughed at the action. "So, do you want some candy, its on the house for you if you want any" Kevin asked.

"Really? On the house? Does that mean I can buy everything in the store?" Streber joked, earning a glare that was clearly played up.

Streber looked at the candy display. "Yea, I think I'll get some for the road" Streber put the bag on the counter. "Can you hold onto this real quick for me?"

Kevin nodded, took it, and pulled it close to him. He went on his phone and waited till Streber came with the candy.

After around 2 minutes passed, Streber came up and put the candy on the counter. Streber began to reach for his wallet, that was before Kevin spoke up. "I told you, its on the house. You don't have to pay me"

Streber looked at him with an "are you sure?" on his face. Kevin wordlessly nodded. "Well, I have to pay you with something...Hey, lean over for a second"

Kevin, confused, leaned over the counter. Streber held onto Kevin's face to kiss him. Kevin froze and slowly burned red. Streber pulled away and chuckled at Kevin's taken aback face.

"There, that's my payment"

Kevin blushed and grabbed a bag to put the candy in. Kevin pushed the filled candy bag to Streber. "So, see you after work?"

"You bet!"

"Got it, stay safe"