sillyd0ve

[sillyd0ve]

finally got my meds for my bpd !!!

[sillyd0ve]

I lied I'm such a liar ☹️

I'm kinda back I guess !! haaaiiii 👋

[sillyd0ve]

⊹ FOR SURE

RELATIVELY STABLE AND TENTATIVELY ABLE TO SAY FOR CERTAIN WHETHER THIS UNCERTAINTY IS FOR SURE

wc: 2k

cw: sad and probably ooc dazai but he’s my husband so i actually know how he falls apart, pretty straightforward references to anxiety+dissociation, references to self harm+suicidal ideation but nothing graphic, angst+hurt/comfort, dazai cries and then you feed him that's all

reid: a little spur of the moment something i started when i wasn’t feeling so hot a bit ago. ethel cain’s cover of this song has altered the course of my life anyway enjoy me projecting

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

He was quiet when he got home, which is uncharacteristic, unless he’s scheming. But there was no glint in his eyes and no menace behind his grin, only exhaustion. What’s more is there was no downcast expression, no particularly sluggish movement to suggest he was upset; granted, he would regularly go on performing his usual persona even if he was upset. He was always all moving puzzle pieces, all thick mask and mystery.

It’s a good thing you’ve learned to read him so plainly.

You owe it to the little shared space you’re in, wrapped in a blanket on the couch, reading a book of his as he shakes his coat off and tosses it across the small dining table with two chairs side-by-side at it instead of across from one another. Dazai usually hangs his coat up on the rack by the door, slips his shoes off mindlessly and comes to flop his entire body weight on top of you, but tonight he pulls his laces undone and leaves his shoes tucked neatly against the wall, walks by the back of the couch to press a ghostly kiss to the crown of your head, and heads straight to the bathroom, which he locks himself in.

You swallow as you hear the shower start. You had specifically picked out an apartment with a standing shower, no tub, when you moved in with him. You’d emptied it of razors a handful of times and you probably would a handful of times more, and you kept all of both of your medication in your bedside table. Still, you can no longer quite focus on the words in front of you.

So, you flick the television on. A little more noise in your brain helps tune out the shower that’s just that—a shower. He showers, most often, because he’s feeling strange and not because he needs to feel clean. Maybe he needs to feel clean, but not in a way that a shower will allow. He does it anyway. You wait.

When the water turns off and he doesn’t immediately bounce out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist, singsonging which leftovers you should heat up for him, you turn the TV volume down a few notches. When it’s been five minutes or so, you find yourself in the kitchen putting day-old bibimbap in the microwave. When it’s been ten, you’re knocking on the door.

"Osamu?" Your voice is soft as your knock. "I waited for you to eat." Dirty trick, you know. But you also know he won’t otherwise; not on a night like this.

You hear a bit of shuffling before the bathroom door creaks open. His eyes are red, his nose flushed, and he’s rubbing his face with the corner of his towel like he’s just awoken from a nap. He’s got no bandages on. He nearly whispers, "You didn’t have to."

"Wanted to." You work the towel from his hands as he turns the light off. He’ll hide behind the darkness if nothing else, but it’s alright; you’ll let him. You pat water from his shoulders before you sling the towel around him like a cape. You whisper back, "I’ll get you clothes. Please get silverware, yes?"

You don’t give him much of a choice, but he’s in a state where he’s pliant enough to listen to corporeal orders. Getting silverware will be a marginally easier task than dressing for him right now.

After pulling a sweatshirt and pair of pajama pants out of your drawers—they’re his, or maybe yours, doesn’t really matter; what does matter is they cover as much skin as possible—you return to him on the couch, two bowls of cooling bibimbap with chopsticks stuck in them on coffee table. He’s got as much of his bare body under the towel as it will allow.

When you set next to him and peel the towel back he looks nearly catatonic. It spurs tears to your lash line, but you hold back. "Arms, please."

He shoves himself into the hoodie, tousling his wet mop of hair in the process, and takes the pants from you, which he stands robotically to step into. When he sits you wrap five fingers across the top of his flannel-clad thigh and press a short kiss to his cheek.

As if sparked by your touch, he curls himself into you.

You’re quick to receive him; you unlock his hands from where they latch behind your neck, gently, like everything else, and you lean back, back, until your head is hitting the pillow you were lounged up against earlier. His fingers scramble for somewhere to land; you will his weight down onto you, his shoulder and hip to tuck beside yours on the inside of the couch, his free arm and leg to sling across your body and his sweet face in the side of your neck. The water from his hair soaks through your shirt. You don’t care. You feel his breath; your fingertips trace circles along his spine, and your outside hand comes to tangle up with his. Eating will have to wait.

You don’t waste time asking if he wants to talk. If he did, he would’ve started by now.

So you focus on his breathing, and how lucky you are to have it ghosting along your collarbone. He’s gray, then white, then gray, then blue in the light of the TV as his thumb moves across the back of your hand, stiff, like it’s just been freed from paralysis.

You wait for his breath to shake; you know it will.

And he knows you know, because he squeezes your hand in a pulsing rhythm like a heartbeat. He hates this. He hates that you've seen him crumble so many times that you know exactly what he needs.

You say it so softly, again, almost a whisper: "I've got you, my love."

He doesn't want you to say it's okay or let it out or talk to me; this is another thing you know very well. He feels like he's floating away from what little sense of self he has to begin with and it's not okay, and he doesn't want to talk about it, he doesn't want to be told when to cry or not, but he does need reminded that you're here, and you're real, and so is he, and so is this thing that both have; you'll grab his ankles and pull him down out of the air. You always do. You always do.

So he cries anyway.

It's like hearing a foreign language leave his mouth. There's something so assured about Dazai even while he believes he's all smoke and mirrors and seeing—hearing—his voice jump between heaving breaths and cracking sobs has always jarred you in some way. Moreover, now that you're so attuned to the way he breaks, it fills you with a tired anger that you can't place on anything concrete. It's a frustration you're glad to shoulder with him, but a frustration no less. You would set fire to everything you could touch, strangle it all to death with your bare hands, if it guaranteed his peace. But you know he wouldn't want that, not anymore; you quell the rage inside you between strands of his hair, fingerpads combing over his scalp with all that anger channeled into love, pure love. For as terrible and rotten as he's convinced he is, he's truly turned you into something softer than you thought yourself capable of being.

You feel his heart racing double-time against yours; you briefly wish you had no chest, no ribs, no physical form to separate you from him, so that your heart could cradle his, give over to his troubled body the time of the breath yours breathes.

He's all jagged edges right now and you're holding him like he's made of cotton. It makes him worse, momentarily, and he tears his hand away from yours; he knows wrapping around you like this, like a boa constrictor around its prey, will make his arms lose feeling but he does it anyway, like he's worried you'll go up in a cloud of dust if he doesn't hold onto you tight enough. He knows it's probably uncomfortable for you, too, laying back on his knotted fingers while he shoves every piece of himself as close as he can get to you, but you don't say anything, don't even make a sound when he hyperventilates into your shoulder and pushes out pathetic whimpers between his stuttering. He knows his face is twisted into that expression he long ago deemed too ugly to look at in the mirror. He gasps like he's underwater, and you just press your cheek to his temple while you lose track of if the wetness on your shoulder is from his hair or his eyes. It doesn't matter. You love him so fucking much.

He weeps against you with his constraint surrendered, loud but muffled by your shirt, at least until whatever movie was on is over. When he finally lifts his head, your eyes flutter open. You hadn't realized you closed them.

You tilt to look at him; the seam of your shirt collar is imprinted into his cheek. His bangs have dried wildly; you push them away from his eyes which are raw with sorrow, and Dazai's hands unclasp from behind you, settling back to how they first were with one curled up into the couch and the other interlaced with yours. He's devastatingly beautiful. You can't help the ghost of the sad smile you wear; it's because he's so gorgeous, and also you want to let him know you're content to be here—not content with what's upset him, not at all, but content to pick him up and help him haul himself forward. He does not reflect the smile back to you. You don't blame him.

"Let's eat." You leave the please unspoken, but it hangs there anyway.

"It's cold," he complains, still distant, but with a glimmer of a pout you think may be him. He's not getting out of it, though.

You sit him up, keep him close to your side and pick up a bowl; it's indeed cold, but you take a bite anyway, as if to show him it's not so bad. When you hold sliced carrot and broccoli to his lips, he looks at you like you're trying to feed him dirt, but opens his mouth anyway.

And it may as well be medicine going down. Not that he particularly cares for reheated and recooled leftover bibimbap, but your fingers being at the other end of the chopsticks makes it appealing. More than appealing. Delightful, even. He never really understood how things like food, music, or art could be healing until he met you and you doodles silly pictures of him on slow Sunday mornings, sang old love songs to him while you shooed him away from the stove as you cooked dinner, fed him leftovers in your shared home, on your shared couch, surrounded by all the things that were both yours and his, sweatshirts, books, blankets, chopsticks alike.

And he tells you that in his own way.

"Heat it up again for me? Please?"

He speaks the plea this time, and you grin—not sad this time, but wholly, as he relights slowly in front of you. And as already established, you'd do anything for him.

"Mhm."

"I love you," he blurts. Tags it on. You stand, gathering both bowls, still grinning.

"I love you." No question about any of it. You press a kiss to the crown of his head. He unfurls the blanket from where you'd slung it over the back of the couch earlier, picking up the remote to flick through the channels, finally breathing steadily as he waits for you to return from the kitchen. Your kitchen, his kitchen. He hears the microwave hum, in another room, not on another planet. He knows he'll be alright.

[sillyd0ve]

DAZAI HCS! ⊹

cw: talk of mental illness and substance use/abuse, speculation about Dazai’s f’ed up past, Dazai-typical references to suicide, references to self harm, probably a lot of projection on the author’s part

reid: i feel like yapping about Dazai tonight so here’s a non-exhaustive list of general headcanons i have about him. no word count because i’ll probably update this periodically lol

he does not listen to music from this century. he just doesn’t. not that he goes out of his way not to, he’s just drawn to a certain sound that only older music seems to have—I think The Smiths, Blondie, Tears For Fears, The Smashing Pumpkins, King Crimson, and Led Zeppelin are among his favorite artists

I think he also really enjoys classic jazz/blues/bebop music—Charles Mingus, Billie Holiday, Duke Ellington, Thelonious Monk, Miles Davis, etc.

he’s anemic. I’m of the firm belief that Kunikida buys him a 100 ct bottle of iron tablets every 100 days which Dazai always graciously accepts. however, he only actually takes them when he gives enough of a shit to (which is not often) so the bottles are just accumulating on his bathroom sink/in the cupboard beneath

nail biter, cuticle picker, hair twirler, thigh bouncer, etc. I don’t think he really sits still unless it’s absolutely necessary

children love him, much to his dismay. they think he’s entertaining. he thinks they’re like puppies (and he canonically hates dogs). he won’t treat them badly, but he’s just not super interested in interacting with them. unwilling older brother vibe when faced with them. shithead kids can stoke his rage much faster than Chuuya ever could

he cannot take care of a fucking plant. has one succulent in his apartment. it’s surviving out of pure unadulterated spite. he hasn’t watered it in over a year

wearer of funky socks. his favorites are either the ones that say "I love my job ha ha just kidding" or the custom ones Yosano got him as a gag gift one year for white elephant at the office christmas party (they have Kunikida’s rage face on them)

really sad that, despite his criminal record being scrubbed clean, he is still banned from driving in the nation of Japan for the rest of his life because he wants a Ford Explorer so bad

PROFOUNDLY SOUND KNOWLEDGE OF MEDICAL TERMINOLOGY

he’s fluent in Japanese and English, proficient in French and Italian, and learning Russian

I think he also enjoys learning math/researching random shit/reading anything he can in his free time when he feels up to it. he never received a formal education and his IQ is through the roof—his yearning for academia is almost like an itch he has to scratch every once in a while. also, he just likes knowing things

he never learned how to ride a bike. wahhhh wahh

BPD king. look at him. my beautiful princess with a disorder. I doubt he’s diagnosed but he strongly suspects it seeing as he’s so self-aware; if not borderline, he just assumes he has severe PTSD. either way, he really won’t do anything other than what he already knows about how to manage it

along the same lines—he’s been a functional alcoholic since an alarmingly young age (I’m talking 16-17). I think it probably got a lot worse post-defection when he was underground, but he hardly had to function then anyway; he gets somewhat better after joining the Agency but still has a dependence, it’s just not severe enough to debilitate him

has a bin of art supplies in his apartment. he only ever pulls them out once every few months, but he rather enjoys painting and wouldn’t mind getting better at it

master at darts. don’t take him to a bar where there’s a dartboard. he will stand in front of it all night and obliterate everyone who challenges him

insatiable sweet tooth. he especially loves anything maple, butter pecan, or butterscotch he’s a grandpa

[sillyd0ve]

I love the weather lately <3 it's always cloudy n rains in the mornings, it makes me feel at peace somehow,,

[sillyd0ve]

I'm trying to survive this month...............

[sillyd0ve]

it's almost time for a new adventure!

[sillyd0ve]

having my brain means forgetting the things I have write and looking at my own post like "😀? when did I wrote this?"

[sillyd0ve]

I hope at least some of the people that follow this blog are here for women too :'3

[sillyd0ve]

⊹ LOOKIN’ FOR THE ONE THAT WANTS TO MAKE MY NAME A TATTY!

cw: multifandom (bsd+jjk), suggestive, name tattoos!!! all around questionable? feral and whipped and lovesick and possessive and stupid stupid hot men

reid: down bad for this concept and these mfers anyways stream aggy by coco and clair clair

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Who would get your name tattooed on them?

This SCREAMS GOJO. He’s so shameless—he’d get your name tattooed on his asscheek if you asked. He’d let you do it. He’d let it be Comic Sans for the meme. Not because he doesn’t take you seriously—quite the opposite, actually! His six eyes know he won’t ever regret this—he loves you so much and there’s hardly anything in the world he wouldn’t do to put a smile on your face even if it’s dumb. But really, tell him to be for real—suggest along his bicep in a pretty script font and consider it done <3

SUKUNA’S probably going to do this under one condition—he gets to mark you as his too, and this does not necessarily mean you also get a tattoo. But let’s say you do! I think he wants yours between your tits on your sternum running vertical, and he’ll probably get his in the exact same place—exact same font, exact same color. . .there, or down his spine, or if he’s feeling especially soft the day of the appointment, across his Achilles tendon, for obvious reasons—don’t make him say it.

If this screams anyone else on this list, it’s TOJI. He won’t even hesitate; he’s not exactly the most responsible guy around, but you like him, and he thinks you’re perfect—why the hell shouldn’t he have your name wrapped around his upper arm like a cuff, especially if it means your eyes light up and you flash him that gorgeous smile? Just don’t be too surprised when you find his baby mother’s name haphazardly covered up/half removed somewhere else on him.

I can see NANAMI doing this a few years into marriage, maybe, but doing it nonetheless. Look at him—he’s the dictionary definition of a keeper, and this is hardly any different to him than never taking off his wedding ring (and believe me, once you’ve got him on lock I mean he never takes it off). Matching ones would be especially alluring to him—you’re his one and only, and he hardly gives a thin and subtle sans-serif tattoo of your name on his upper thigh a second thought. What’s more is he’s enamored with kissing the spot where you get his name <3

This may or may not be me pushing my tattooed CHUUYA agenda but whatever. I think he’d be SO down for this. He’d probably make a little date out of it—drive you to the nicest tattoo shop in Yokohama under the guise of wanting to pay for whatever piece you want on yourself—tattoo or piercing—and sit patiently while you get it done, and then ‘decide last-minute’ that he’ll get one too, what the hell, and tell you not to look until it’s finished. Some elegant, masculine script font behind his ear that’s visible when he pulls his hair back <3

TACHIHARA is so grounded in what he loves. I’m 100% willing to bet he has a tattoo for his brother. Your name, too, tattooed on the outside of his shoulder, is like a badge of honor to him—everything he does, he does with you in mind. His only regret is how every uniform he wears covers it; he truly would’ve gotten it on his neck just above his shirt collar or on the back of his hand if it wouldn’t make him so easily identifiable. I can see him liking a traditional calligraphy font—only the prettiest for the love of his life <3

Funny how the man who knows nothing he desires can be permanent gets your name tatted on him. I think the prospect of having your name in his skin forever is just so hot, so romantic to DAZAI—there’s poetry in it however your relationship ends up unfolding. He knows he’s in love with you. In some way or another, no matter how he might end up driving you away, regardless of if you end up hating him for the monster he really is, even if you end up dying hand in hand like he hopes for, you’ll always own a piece of his heart and it’s evident in the pretty serif font he got buzzed across his hipbone <3

I include NIKOLAI in every one of my unhinged headcanons but I just can’t see him being anything less than ENTHUSIASTIC TO BOOT in a relationship. He is all in! You put up with his crazy, you drive away his sadness, you hold him so sweetly—the way you love him truly makes him feel on top of the world. And in true Nikolai fashion, I think he has your name in a font of your choice tatted right over his heart. Kiss it, bite it, trace it, lick it—he loves letting you know he’s all yours <3

[sillyd0ve]

☆ Rondo Across Countless Kalpas ☆

[sillyd0ve]

I wish I could give all of my mooties a hug I love u all sm <3333

[sillyd0ve]

THANK U SM SAKIII <333 ILYY LOTS

hi there ! i’ve never requested anyone before but i saw that you like taking wlw requests so i caved 😭

as a hi3 player my raiden mei obsession has extended to acheron, and i’d love to see some general dating hcs. maybe what her preferences are (even sexual preferences huhuhrheheheh), how she shows love and affection, or whatever you feel like adding!

i have a severe acheron addiction so if you suddenly get an influx of acheron asks it’s probably me 😇

acheron general dating hcs

Pairings: acheron x fem!reader

CW: sfw and nsfw, female reader, afab reader, nsfw below the second cut, one hc is angst, strap on mention, cunnilingus, face sitting, praise kink, slight mention of degradation, bondage, romantic sex, fingering, biting, slicey slicey white hair acheron yay (both in a kinky way and in a scary way), um I love tea :3

A/N: GIRL ME TOOO IM SO OBSESSED WITH ACHERON ITS ACTUALLY WILD SHES ACTUALLY MY FAV HSR CHARACTER I LOEV THIS WOMAN SM ALSO PLEASE REQUEST ACHERON I AM ENCOURAGING THIS SO HARD REQUEST A ONESHOT IF YOU CAN IM GONNA EAT THE WALL anyway sorry for that I just love acheron a little too much <3 🕯️

I’m just gonna be completely honest Acheron is such a sweetheart when you’re dating her.

She shows affection in the most random ways it’s genuinely adorable- like she’ll buy you a random piece of food from Penacony’s golden hour or something or hug you from behind while resting her chin on your shoulder with a soft hum.

Really enjoys it when you kiss her face all over, it makes her feel loved and special.

That being said I feel like she’d be a fan of the lipstick trend too.

I feel like she’d enjoy recording things on her phone instead of yours. Like whenever you guys take a selfie or record a memory, she always pulls her phone out before you can get yours. Probably cause she’ll remember them if they’re on her phone.

No worries she still forwards them to you <3

Acheron absolutely loves it when you sit in her lap or snake yourself under her arm while leaning against her side to cuddle. She’d always wrap her arm around you with a soft smile and pull you close against her.

Whenever you two are on dates, and she gets up to use the restroom, she frequently forgets where she’s going or loses her way to it. So often times, you usually tail her as a companion because she ends up doing a whole side quest lmao-

Not very talkative in your relationship, but shows her affection when she usually just stays calm and prefers to hold you in silence, leaning against your chest to remind herself that you’re here with her whenever she hears your hearbeat.

Completely random but she probably somehow accidentally caught a fish and brought it home to you. To which you just raised an eyebrow out of disappointment and confusion, but it’s ok because it’s Acheron and you love her. <3

She may not show it, but she gets really happy when you buy her peaches or something peach flavored, since it’s one of the few things she can taste :( [the way I started violently sobbing after writing this bullet]

One time when she accidentally showed you her slicey slicey form you ended up being a little terrified, and she feels awful for it. She tried so hard to make it up to you, literally bought you anything she wanted, showered you with kisses, took you out on a romantic date, almost everything.

Sometimes you have to tell Acheron to loosen her grip, since when you two sleep she hugs you WAY too tight. Like, this woman can accidentally kill someone out of affection.

she’s like a cat with a resting bitch face, but is really sweet tbh…or maybe I just love cats too much.

Smells like peaches and rainwater and you can’t change my mind, maybe a hint of cherry blossom perfume :)

Someone get her google maps I love her sm

nsfw below the cut.

Contrary to what everyone says—Acheron is NOT a top in my opinion. She’s a switch. A MASSIVE FUCKING SWITCH ‼️

Her strap game go crazy though trust

Nothing more this woman loves than digging her fingers into your thighs and parting them to eat you out like you were her last meal she would have in centuries. <3

I feel like she’d love face sitting, giving or receiving.

Screamer? Nah she groans and it sounds unbelievably hot. Like-?

A lot of people believe that she’s into degrading BUT I DONT THINK SO AHAHA I feel like she prefers praise, since she doesn’t like the idea of degrading you and making you seem like you’re less than her :(

Even if you’re into that, it takes a lot to convince her that you really want to and even then she’s super hesitant and barely even tries to degrade you. Probably switches back to praise midway since she can’t shit talk you at all. She’s too sweet for that.

Seriously into romantic sex over kinky sex, but isn’t afraid to throw in some crazy kinks every once in a while, bondage being one of her favorites.

Acheron would absolutely love it when you whisper how much you love her into her ear, and whine out how you don’t want her to leave. It makes her feel all warm and fuzzy as she reassures you she’s yours forever, and how you’re hers.

You whisper that stuff while she’s topping? Great, your legs aren’t gonna work tomorrow as she’s buried in your cunt and your moans are muffled by her lips smashed against yours. When she’s bottoming? Congrats, you made her even wetter as she’s trying to bite her lip to control the filthy groans from her throat and grinding down against your fingers or strap.

Biter. Like hold her as close as you can and she’ll bite down onto you HARD. Still licks the area in case it hurts though. Along with that, she loves it when you bite her back—she just thinks they look pretty.

I feel she’s ripped your clothing off on multiple occasions. Especially when she’s in her other form and wants to have sex with you. Afterwards or before, she apologizes and promises to buy you a brand new one.

Speaking of which she has DEFINITELY fucked you real good when she goes white hair and slicey slicey

She adores the idea of just towering over you with her hands planted beside your head, bonus points if she gets to hold your hands.

Her aftercare is immaculate mwah

Constantly checks up on you and showers you with praise and kisses wawawawawa while helping you clean up, and probably puts on a movie or something while cuddling up to you.

If you’re the one giving aftercare please hug her as tight as possible and reassure her she did good, just hold her hand with your fingers laced between hers as you promise against her skin that you’ll stay with her. Literally do it or else I’m going to eat your cupcakes omg

Falls asleep in your arms 3 out of 4 times everytime you guys have sex late at night.

I’m too gay for her it’s not even funny anymore atp

A/N: ONE, I KNEW I HAD TO WORK ON THIS AS SOON AS I SAW IT EVEN THOUGH ITS 2 AM AND I SHOULD BE ASLEEP. AND TWO, IF SOMEONE ASKS “well why is it so long 🥺🥺” BECAUSE I LOVE ACHERON SHUSH

anon I’m encouraging this behavior please request me more acheron and acheron oneshots I’m begging u I’m totally normal about her

[sillyd0ve]

why i can't find any acheron x fem!reader sfw fic? :((

[sillyd0ve]

@justcallmesakira i'm answering this here because the unholy thoughts took possession of me <3

DON'T DIE SAKIII I HAVE THINGS TO SAAAAAYYY *shakes u violently*

the last pic got me 🫦 pls I'm going to sleep with this image fresh on my mind in hopes to dream about kolya <3

this is not exactly monster fucking i guess :(( i'm still testing the waters w this :3

more under the cut (⁠◠⁠‿⁠・⁠)⁠—⁠☆

since octopus!kolya is half human half octopus, I think he likes to go to the surface sometimes. everything down there must be boring to see all the time.

nikolai sometimes watches ships as they go, or wanders around the coasts and observes from a distance the fishermen who sit and share a beer as they try to catch a fish...

but one day he surfaces and finds a cute little human who's wandering the coasts alone, a perfect opportunity for him to stalk admire you.

whatever the reason was that you were walking around the coasts, it didn't matter, nikolai felt the need to approach you and learn more about you. you picked his interest. you were just so cute when tucking your hair behind your ear as the wind blew and when you bent over to grab a small shiny rock.

something inside him is begging to approach you, and he does.

"my, my! what do we have here? what's your name, little human?" nikolai asks, giving you a big toothy grin, showing his pointy teeth, "you know it's dangerous to go alone around the coasts... mostly because dangerous monsters of the sea could be hungry for... something."

the panicked expression on your face exited him, and before you could ran off nikolai's tentacles slid to reach for your ankle, easily dragging you closer and closer, under the waters.

your complaints fall on deaf ears, no one seems to be around to help you.

he's nice enough to help you float... pressing your body against his as his tentacles tease every inch of your skin they can reach, "I never felt a human so soft like you... guess is my lucky day!"

he giggles as his arms wrapped around your torso from behind, hands feeling the wet fabric of your shirt before sliding underneath it, going straight to squeeze your breasts.

"seems like I've found my mate..."

[sillyd0ve]

I miss summer melancholy... :<

[sillyd0ve]

I hate bungou stray dogs