#he's incredibly self-aware and knows exactly what he's doing

[the-sage-libriomancer]

Shigure's relationship with Kyo drives me crazy. he doesn't hate Kyo in the slightest - in fact, he pities Kyo, and not in the condescending "oh you poor little boy, cursed to be a horrible, disgusting monster" sort of way that everyone else does. Shigure pities Kyo for the reason he should be pitied: he's just a kid caught up in a system so inhumane it can't possibly be survived without some seriously unhealthy coping mechanisms.

and it drives me crazy because - listen, Shigure is the only zodiac member who's emotionally aware enough to see the other zodiac members as exactly what they are. he knows Yuki is a severely traumatized kid who projects all of his self-hatred on a single convenient target. he knows Akito is really a scared little girl with a raging god complex (literally) and no concept of a healthy relationship. and he knows Kyo is a regular-ass human being who doesn't deserve to be locked up for the rest of his life just because some arbitrary system says so. he KNOWS it's stupid. he KNOWS it's ridiculous and unfair. and he has to share a house with Kyo knowing that Kyo is living with a sword over his head, hating himself and hating others in perfect tandem because he has no other way of coping with the insane amounts of negativity he's had to deal with his entire life.

but the thing about Shigure is that he KNOWS all of this, and the same time he doesn't really CARE. he feels sorry for Kyo, but an apathetic sort of pity, a disinterested "this is how it is. such a shame." sort of pity. in some ways he's worse than the other zodiacs because he DOES see Kyo as a person, someone he likes being around even, but he still considers Kyo below his attention because all his focus is on Akito and breaking the curse. and sure, once the curse is broken Kyo will theoretically be set free with the rest of them, but that's more of a coincidental side effect than anything. despite being in a much more dangerous and precarious mental space AND comfortably in Shigure's reach, Kyo is about as much a priority for Shigure as Ritsu or Momiji.

and it drives me CRAZY because i think Shigure does start actively caring about Kyo as the series goes on, but it's hard to tell when that happens and to what extent. when Kazuma told Shigure he planned to reveal Kyo's true form and Shigure said he was going too far - whose sake was it for? was Shigure trying to protect Kyo, who would be hideously traumatized/emotionally scarred by such a cruel betrayal? was he trying to protect Kyo and Tohru's relationship, which was still formulating and might, under such severe testing, ultimately end up damaged beyond repair? was he only trying to protect Tohru, who wasn't ready to be burdened by such a horrible aspect of the curse so soon, or perhaps simply didn't deserve it? or was it all for the sake of himself, trying to protect his still-forming plans of using Tohru's positive effect on the Sohmas to break the curse?

Shigure cares about Kyo, but they're not close and Kyo clearly isn't a priority. he treats Kyo like a person - offering him genuine advice, teasing him like he teases anyone else, even speaking up on his behalf once or twice - and yet he's too entrenched in the long game to spare much active interest in Kyo. for a very long time, he doesn't care about Kyo the way he cares about Yuki or Tohru, and it's never made clear when exactly that changed. and the thing that gets me about this whole situation is that right from the start, Shigure is in a position where he can meet Kyo at his level - as equals, just one human being to another - but he doesn't, because Shigure is a chessmaster, Shigure is someone who observes and calculates, Shigure never steps in unless one of his chess pieces makes a wrong move and he absolutely has to.

it drives me crazy. Shigure drives me crazy. this series drives me so so crazy.

[twilightcitysky]

Everything Is Meant (long S2 analysis, part 1)

I cannot figure out for the life of me how to make gifs so this will have to be a gif-less essay. If anyone more tech savvy than me wants to reblog with relevant media, please do!

I've seen a lot of people saying how Aziraphale's actions in the final ten minutes come out of left field and are OOC, and when I first watched the episode I felt the same, but now I think I couldn't have been more wrong. And I don't think Aziraphale is being controlled... I think the entire season showed us exactly what was going to happen.

On first watch, what struck me was the number of plot points that seemed disconnected. I couldn't figure out how Job related to the present, or the Victorian era, or the Nazi zombies (still at sea on the zombies part tbh). I didn't know where the Maggie/ Nina subplot was going, or why we were bothering with it. Then I put my "psych hat" on and it was like seeing one of those 3D pictures come into focus. It's a psychological networking rather than a plot-driven one, which is what Neil told us to expect.

Detailed analysis under the cut, with spoilers:

I went back through the season in my head and started asking myself: why is this element there? What does it contribute?

1. Start with scene one. Why include it? Does it matter for the climax that Az knew Crowley as an angel? YES. It's actually huge. Angel Crowley was joyful, he was bursting with delight at creation, he was idealistic. He wanted to be a part of everything rather than run away from it, and that's still how Aziraphale feels. He loves being a part of things. He's a joiner. He's a landlord. He dances at clubs and he makes human friends and he learns magic. Crowley the demon doesn't seem to want any of that, and I think that's hard for Az. He wants Crowley to be free of the cynicism he thinks prevents him from enjoying life now. At some level, I think he senses that Crowley is depressed (empathy's not his strong suit but I'm sure he's aware that Crowley's in a "what's the point of it all" kind of mood; see the eccles cakes scene). He wants to fix it. Aziraphale is a fixer. Metatron offers him a chance to do that.

Another thing is that Aziraphale knows Crowley ended up Falling just for asking questions that seemed innocent. That's not okay with him. He thinks that with the two of them in charge they can actually MAKE the changes that Crowley wanted to see way back at the beginning, starting with a suggestion box.

2. Okay, now Jim. Obviously Gabriel/ Jim is the central mystery, but why does he matter? First and foremost: he's there to show Aziraphale that angels can CHANGE. Gabriel terrorized and threatened Aziraphale. Az has been terrified of him. He ordered Aziraphale's execution. And now here he is, drinking hot chocolate, doing noble self-sacrificing things, with morals that suddenly align with Aziraphale's. What an absolute game-changer that must have been! He thought Heaven was unfixable, but here's Gabriel in his shop for weeks, slowly convincing him otherwise.

Then two other things happen. First, they find out that this all happened to Gabriel essentially because he fell in love. He was fired and his memories were stolen and the only reason he recovered was because Beelzebub happened to give him the one thing that could save him. That must have seemed like incredible luck. Now, how does Aziraphale feel about memories? He lives in a bookshop that is stuffed to bursting with the records of all of human history, essentially. His memories of his time with Crowley are incredibly precious. He sees, there at the end, that everything he is can be taken from him as a punishment for falling in love. Aziraphale doesn't have a magic fly container. He'd be forever robbed of Crowley, his life, himself. It's a very real threat in his mind when Metatron intervenes.

Which brings us to the second thing. Metatron saves Gabriel. Not only that, he prevents him from being punished for loving Beelzebub and lets them both go. What better way to win currency with Aziraphale? HE doesn't want to go off to Alpha Centauri, he never has, but suddenly he sees that Metatron might protect his relationship. And he's probably the only entity with the power to do so.

So we come to two conclusions: Aziraphale, when he goes off to talk with Metatron, is feeling like maybe it's not intrinsically bad to be an angel. He believed all the angels sucked, and only God was good... but now he sees that even Gabriel can change. He met Muriel, and he likes them. (He also had a huge crush on angel Crowley, which is neither here nor there but he loves Crowley in all his forms.) So if Crowley became an angel again, would that really be so bad? In his mind, it wouldn't change who Crowley is. It would just make them both safer and allow them to be together. (He's wrong! And Crowley doesn't see it that way! But this is a key miscommunication. Aziraphale doesn't really believe that becoming a demon changed Crowley. Back to the first scene, which Aziraphale references during the Job minisode. In his eyes, Crowley is the same person (just more cynical because of what's happened to him)-- so why would it matter if he's an angel again? I truly don't think he was trying to save Crowley, or saying that Crowley would be Better as an angel. To him, it doesn't matter what Crowley is. Which is reductive and harmful, but not the same as thinking Crowley needs rescuing from himself.)

Second conclusion: he sees that an angel and demon can be in love, but they have to run away to be together. Gabe and Beelz couldn't go home again. Earth is Aziraphale's home, but after the attack on the bookshop he learned that without Heaven's protection he can't really keep them safe there. Metatron says: "Come with me, do this thing, and you can have guaranteed safety AND be with the love of your life". Poor Aziraphale wants this with every fiber of his being. All he's ever wanted was for Crowley to be safe. He's never been able to offer it. Over the past four years, he thought they were safe, but he's just learned that he was wrong.

This is getting long. Continued in Part Two!

[seelestars]

WHO CONFESSES FIRST ? (sunday, aventurine)

a/n : i apologize for being super super duper inactive… motivation has been hard for me to find, but now w penacony i feel more inspired! and luckily, im on break so hopefully ill be able to write a bunch more (*≧∀≦*) my writing might not be the best rn, im still slowly trying to ease into writing so do forgive me </3

sunday

- I feel like he would be the type to confess first

- he’s a bit shy about it, but he tries his best to not let it show ! (●´ω｀●)

- he would plan out the whole thing meticulously, making sure everything is exactly how he wants it to be during his confession

- if even one thing is out of place (ex. it rains) then he completely reschedules it

- he’s unsure what gifts to get you, so he ends up getting everything that he thinks you’d like !

the weather was perfect for a stroll, or even for mundane relaxation. sunday could feel himself grow nervous as he patiently waited for you to arrive. his hands were filled with flowers, chocolates, and cute little trinkets that reminded him of you. he knew it would be quite unusual if other people spotted the head of the oak family out in a very populated area while holding a bunch of gifts, so he decided to make sure not a lot of people would be around at this hour.

soon enough, you had arrived. your eyes immediately widened as you gasped at the sight of the plethora of things he had gotten you. “sunday… is this all for me?” you state at him in awe, your eyes softening at the slight rosy tint that adorned his cheeks. if you looked closely enough, you could notice the way his wings fluttered gently at the sound of your voice.

“…yes. it’s all for you.” sunday responds, averting his gaze as he braces himself to ask the question he’d been dying to ask. “it’s because I wanted to ask you something. …will you allow me to be your boyfriend?” to really make the moment seem more sincere, he builds up the courage to meet your gaze. his heart was beating incredibly fast as he eagerly anticipated your response—which would hopefully be a yes.

“awww, of course I would!” you laugh softly as you put the gifts you’ve received to the side, tackling him into a warm embrace. “all of this was very sweet of you.” you hum, looking up at him with a gaze so loving it made him shudder and fluster. it was obvious sunday was unused to receiving such affection as he smiles awkwardly, finally able to calm down now that you’ve agreed to date him.

aventurine

- now I feel like he’d push you to confess on purpose once he is sure the feelings he harbors for you is mutual

- he plays hard to get, acting oblivious to your attempts at hinting at your affection for him

- he just can’t help but keep on playing such a game—your determination is so cute to him ! ʅ（◞‿◟）ʃ

- he gives you just enough hope so that you’d persist with your attempts at courting him

- despite how he makes it seem like your tries don’t have much of an impact of him, he’s thinking about it day and night

you don’t know what gave you this sudden burst of confidence, but you were starting to regret it. though, you supposed it was too late now as you were already tapping on aventurine’s shoulder to grab his attention. “h-hey, can I ask you something?” you try your best to appear self-assured as you hide the gift you had for him behind your back.

“ah? it’s rare for you to be asking me things out of nowhere.” aventurine smirks in amusement as he turns around to face you, raising his eyebrows. “it must be a very important question… one that you can’t rest peacefully without knowing the answer to~” he hums, subtly teasing you. of course, he knew the reason behind why you suddenly decided to grab his attention. he was aware of your feelings for him, after all.

“…yes, you’re right. It’s a question I’ve been meaning to ask you for a while now.” you sigh, narrowing your eyes at him once you picked up on his teasing. “before I ask you… you won’t judge me or laugh at me in case you find the question foolish, right…?” aventurine didn’t even have a chance to answer that question as you have already started to talk again. “w-will you date me?!” you nervously pair your confession with the gift you had for him—a box of his favorite perfume.

there was an awkward silence between the both of you for a while. you knew it, he would never want to date you. he seemed out of your league, with many better options surrounding him. but then, to your surprise, his response was one that wasn’t rejecting you. “why not?” aventurine could feel his grin widen as he looked at the perfume, then up at you. his boldness shocked you, as it caused him to give you a quick peck on your lips. “haha! look at you! redder than any wine out there~” he teases, though it ultimately earned him a playful smack.

[astaroth1357]

The MC Meeting the Brothers' (+Dia & Barbs) Cults

So like. Imagine the Brother's Fanclubs + Witchy Requests. That's this.

Contents: Satanic themes, demon stuff, witchy inspirations

~♡♡♡~

Lucifer

Lucifer's cults take this shit SERIOUSLY. They're not just fooling around with the occult, they live and breathe it.

I'm talking dark robes, goats heads, bonfires, animal blood, ritual dances- You know. The works.

Definitely the sort of occultists who gatekeep other occultists. They want the world to think of THEM, the followers of the mighty Lucifer, as THE quintessential demonic cult to model all others after. He (and by that they mean they) deserves no less.

Oh yes, they are a very prideful and obnoxious bunch... Completely void of self-awareness too. Try to point out how arrogant they're being and they'll call you crazy.

Lucifer openly despises most of them and possesses a quiet distain for the rest. He doesn't think they're nearly as competent and useful as they claim to be and would rather they simply butt out of his affairs.

He doesn't visit them much nor allow them to summon him unless it is a world-ending emergency (so never). A former past leader thought he was beyond those rules and paid for his hubris with his spine...

Lucifer will do all in his power to convince MC that his cult isn't even worth visiting. They'll annoy them to death... And even if they do go, the self-absorbed members won't exactly roll out the red carpet.

Just take down any names of the most irritating ones and Lucifer will take care of it. The dungeon rats could use some company.

Mammon

Mammon's cult kind of feels like a mix between a tech startup and Gambler's Anonymous at times. Money is the goal, babes. Everybody there is some kind of slave to the grind and they hustle like the goddamn NFL.

Funny enough, it usually isn't the already rich and successful who find themselves in Mammon's orbit, but those who are close to, if not in, poverty and looking to turn things around.... in less than stellar ways.

What I'm saying is, most are either casino regulars, scam artists, or buy into crypto.

That said, unlike most of his brothers, Mammon actually has a pretty deep soft spot for his followers. He puts on the "callous demon" act when he's brought out, but generally, he never cruel to them. He may even throw in an extra bit of help for free if he sees someone is struggling.

When they first met the MC, they really went out of their way to be sure MC was safe, pampered, and satisfied. This was Mammon's favorite human, after all! He talks about them constantly...

It's pretty humorous because most of them already know what kind of food MC likes, what their sense of style is, their favorite colors, and the like from just listening to Mammon's rambles. Or because he'll send one of them to fetch him some kind of present when he's visiting.

Admittedly, they're all kinda scummy and insufferable at times. But endearing in the same way Mammon can be so hanging out with them can still be a good time. MC just have to keep an eye on their wallet.

Leviathan

Levi's cult feels like a bunch of teens who read a creepypasta once, tested it out as a joke but found out it was all real. Thankfully, instead of being horrified, they were actually psyched!

They kind of take to devil worship with a DnD-like enthusiasm. They all have code names like, "Grimshadow" or "Evergloom," each owns a black cloak that they MUST wear to all meetings, and they all have incredibly embellished and extensive backstories for their "darkside" personas. Levi is very proud of their commitment to it all.

That being said, they do take to their found family, counterculture thing with a good dash of humor. They once all attended their local aquarium in full robes and linked hands around the jellyfish tank for shits and giggles.

Levi's followers rarely summon him, but he stays in regular contact with the group through chatrooms and messengers. They love to report on the fun "campaigns" they're building on or when they pull some kind of silly stunt to scare the normies.

When MC visits them, they've long since built up this prince/ss persona for them and treat them like the defacto second-in-command. (Partially because they know Levi would flip out if they upset MC in any way).

If MC enjoys a bit of LARPing, they're the most dedicated group they'll ever find! If they're not willing to play act royalty for a few hours...? Steer clear.

Satan

Satan has a ton of cults so they come in all shapes, sizes, and flavors. MC will certainly find one for them!

... The catch is that very few of them actually have a good idea of who Satan really is. It's pretty common to mistake him for Lucifer still, to the point that some cults use their names interchangeably, and THOSE cults better not try contact him personally.

If MC manages to uncover more updated following of Satan's, they'll feel like they walked into a "National Treasure"-style bookclub. These guys are looking for the secrets of the universe, never mind anything else.

Meeting with Satan's inner circle usually feature the search, collection, curation of old esoteric tomes or lost artifacts from the distant realms. The majority of the participants are scholars, academics, and the odd cooky conspiracy theorist who just happened to be right.

Also. Cats. Soooo many cats... The cultists are VERY aware of Satan's volatile temper, so they take pains to keep as many cats present as they can whenever they summon him. Their meeting house is just full of them...

Satan's cult gives MC the real VIP treatment because NO ONE wants to the one to tell the Avatar of Wrath that they disrespected his loved one... If MC were walking barefoot, they'd be laying pillows beneath their every step. The only things treated better are the clubhouse cats.

Asmodeus

Asmo's cult is basically one big family. Very enmeshed and a lot of history, but also soooo fascinating to be around.

If MC wanted to keep track of every person in Asmo's following, they would have to make a chart that could expand the length of an entire wall and, in some cases, go back generations if not centuries.

Followers of Asmo have historically ranged everywhere from sex workers to concubines and even members of the aristocracy looking increase their social capital. Being under his cult provided protection and refuge for the most derided of society, no matter orientation or background. A good portion of his modern following are actually members who've been grandfatherd in from parents or siblings who have joined.

And, of course, Asmo maintains a very close and personal relationship with almost all of them. He's always invited to attend baby showers, weddings, graduations, birthdays, what have you and he makes it to a good deal of them, even if only for a few minutes.

Because of its sheer size and unorthodox structure, Asmo's following almost seems like a "cult" in the loosest sense. They have rituals, spells, and meetings but it all looks SO much different than the others. Get-togthers among the adults are practically just parties and maybe you summon some succubi with goat's blood and glitter glue.

Asmo's cult can be kinda catty, but generally very supportive and they LOVE having MC around. Big gossips with a lot of questions. If they love a party, then they can't go wrong!

Beelzebub

Beel's cult takes self-indulgence to a whole new level. These guys LOVE their vices and find a little demonic touch is the best way to keep the indulgence going.

Belphegor

It's amazing that for such a sweet demon, his cult is some of the scummiest people on the planet. We're talking riding yachts on your mega-yacht levels of excess. "Too much of a good thing" taken to the extreme.

The thing is, as long as you have the money to feed Beel then he's really agreeable and kind. So wealthy assholes take advantage of his generosity all the time...

That said, don't feel too bad for Beel just yet because they ARE scumbags, but Beel is in charge and he has his limits.

One old billionaire kept summoning him during his fangol matches. The guy's maids found his nightrobe ripped to shreds and bite marks in the furniture.

Another one made a passing insult about Mammon and Beel came home to give his brother the lady's jewelry... after he washed them off, of course.

He discourages MC from meeting them even harder than Lucifer, and if they insist, he'll go with them and loom over their shoulder like a round-the-clock bodyguard. He doesn't need to tell his followers to treat MC nicely... he'll make them.

Absolutely those edgy kids who dress in all black and SAY that yeah, they've totally met Belphegor. But they really haven't, and it shows.

Remember, Belphie is on the blacklist so most witches who say they've met him are fucking liars. However, that doesn't stop novice covens searching for a little respect from claiming they're in good with the guy.

Since the group doesn't really know what Belphegor is about, they most just use their little club as an excuse to grief others and claim undue superiority. They pull a lot of pranks though, so they at least have some parts right.

Belphie has a vague awareness of their existence, but couldn't be bothered to contact them or set the record straight. What's it matter to him if a bunch of humans want to make a fool of themselves? He doesn't care that much about his reputation.

If MC were actually summon Belphegor themselves in front of them, the entire group would shit their pants immediately then cry and beg for forgiveness. Again, Belphie doesn't care, but he likes toying with fools so he'd play the part of the "Angry Master" long enough to make them run for their lives.

Needless to say, if MC wants there to be no Belphie-cult, no more Belphie cult there will be.

Diavolo

Actually a very small group since it's not super widespread that the Demon King is out of commission. But those who are there are a real who's-who of the witching world.

Dia doesn't actually interact with his cult very much, despite their combined influence, because he finds them very off-putting. Most of them are just "yes men" or social climbers wanting to get in good with royal bloodline, so he doesn't put much stock in what they do or say.

If he does contact them, it's for his "Bring Harmony" plans and they do come in handy as envoys in the human realm. He keeps the interactions brief though.

Several of his number have attempted to get into contact with MC before, but Solomon usually wards them off for much the same reason Dia does. They all just want something from them, so why let them bother his sweet little apprentice?

Those who slip through the cracks get shut down immediately by an impromptu visit from the friendly neighborhood sorcerer who seems to have some of charm in place for just such occasion. It's pretty confusing for MC to watch Solomon drag some big politican out of the house by the scruff of the neck, but it's probably better that they just don't ask and move on.

Barbatos

An even smaller group than Dia's and even more secretive. You basically have to be invited in by Barb's himself so a new member gets added every half century or so...

Nobody is quite sure what spurs Barbs to select someone into his cult... Maybe they make a good first impression when summoning him or he sees that they're important for the future? Sometimes, he'll even induct complete normal humans who weren't even witches to start with so it's anybody's guess.

Due to its small size and, frankly, years of even centuries worth of distance between members there's a lot less meetings and more just doing what Barbs says.

For instance, he may instruct a member to bury a particular message on a hill to then tell a different member to go find 60 years later... Or he'll have another member set into motion a chain of events that won't actually be felt for decades to come.

The cult members don't know about MC unless Barbs NEEDS them to know about MC. He keeps a lot in the dark. If they do, he takes pains to stress that he admires MC quite a bit and to not upset them...

When Barbatos tells you not to do something, you don't fucking do it, so they are VERY kind to MC. Just in that "I feel like there's a gun to my head"- kind of way...

[kyovtani]

𝐇𝐔𝐒𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐃𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐒 | 𝐊𝐔𝐑𝐎𝐎 𝐓𝐄𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐎𝐔

↳ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐊𝐮𝐫𝐨𝐨 𝐓𝐞𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐨𝐮 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

↳ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟, 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭, 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭; 𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝!𝐊𝐮𝐫𝐨𝐨, 𝐂𝐄𝐎!𝐊𝐮𝐫𝐨𝐨

↳ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟓.𝟔𝐤

↳ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐝𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐱𝐢𝐞𝐭𝐲, 𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭 𝐝𝐨𝐦!𝐊𝐮𝐫𝐨𝐨, 𝐩𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩, 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭/𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐝𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤, 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐞, 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠

↳ 𝐀/𝐍: 𝐈’𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐢𝐦 𝐚𝐥𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐲 𝐊𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐢𝐜, 𝐢 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐚 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰. 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐱 𝐳𝐚𝐝𝐞

↳ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐬 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡…

“Iwa, stop putting me on speaker, I’m tired of listening to Bokuto’s fucking whining!”, your husband’s loud voice cuts through the quietness in your shared home, making your ears perk up in anticipation.

You patiently stay seated on the couch, not knowing if he’s even aware of your presence as he bursts into laughter and sends tiny jolts of warmth right into your chest to remind you just how much you‘ve missed him.

It’s been so long; way too long for your personal liking.

However, none of this has come as a surprise to you, because after all, you knew what to expect as his wife.

This is the Kuroo Tetsurou you fell in love with in your second year of High School.

Hard working, ambitious, disciplined, organized and always the one to get exactly what he wants and who knows how to get it.

Most of these being actual reasons why you fell in love with him in the first place.

And at this point you’ve lost count on how many times his attitude and general lifestyle has helped you to get your shit together and become the person you are today. Throughout the years, both of you have constantly been working towards the best versions of yourselves and while Kuroo would have done it anyway, you would have probably given up halfway through the journey.

It was him. It’s always been him.

No matter how many times all those dark thoughts and doubts have gotten to you, Tetsu was always the one to help you fight them. So many nights spent in each other’s arms, blocking out the world and just focusing on the feeling of complete security and acceptance around you before he built you up again and put you back onto your feet.

The older you get, the worse your states of anxiety have become and although you've been dealing with it a lot better than before, you still struggle to shut it down completely on your own, especially with the fear of losing the one person who never once failed to pull you out of it.

Which is why, you couldn’t help but imagine the worst when people used to warn you of possible changes which might come with being married.

Despite taking notice of your overreaction and your anxiety taking over you again, you still found yourself distancing yourself from your husband.

You developed distance as a self defense mechanism in your youth to avoid any further heartbreak by the opposite party doing it first and even after all these years of being with him, basically knowing him like the back of your hand and trusting him with your whole heart, you still let those doubts and fears get to you.

It’s not like Kuroo has changed since the two of you have gotten married almost two years ago. He’s still the loving, caring and incredibly understanding man you fell for all those years ago.

But recently he’s been spending a lot more time at work; leaving early in the morning and coming home way later than usual – you barely get the chance to look at his face in daylight anymore.

And of course, the sudden change in his working pattern turned out to be ideal for your anxiety to feed off of.

Because the less you’re seeing him, the less time he spends at home, the deeper you fall into this dark hole and for the first time in years you can’t get yourself to see the light at the end of the tunnel.

However, you’ve had enough.

You miss your husband, physically and mentally craving his presence, his touch, his words and although it’s taking you every bit of energy and self control, you manage to push those anxious thoughts all the way to the back of your head and keep the focus on the real issue.

By the time you’re done nervously staring at your hands, Tetsurou has already made his way through the hallway and is still busy listening to Iwaizumi on the phone; his ring clad fingers tightly wrapped around a glass of whiskey when he eventually discovers you.

“Baby, you‘re still up”, he says, perfect brows arched in surprise before he lifts a finger to stop you from responding, “I’ll call you tomorrow, Iwa. Have a good one”, your husband quickly ends the call and places his phone on the dinner table before he approaches you with a soft smile on his handsome face.

You inhale shakily, taking in the sight of him after not having the chance to for so long and the longer you look at him, the worse the urge to burst into tears becomes.

“My love”, he whispers softly, a genuine, yet exhausted smile placed on his pretty face as he comes to sit down next to you on the big couch, “you shouldn‘t have stayed up for me, baby, it‘s so late!”, he chuckles gratefully and places one of his big hands on your cheek.

His eyes start roaming your face attentively, the way they always do, to see if he can read your mood through your facial expressions. You move even further into his warm touch, your body so starved, you feel yourself growing aroused from something as simple as the feeling of his thumb caressing your cheek.

Of course it‘s not just that, but also his familiar scent, a mixture of his rather spicy yet comforting cologne and a hint of vanilla, as well as the warmth he‘s radiating most of the time.

Your lids flutter shut when his thumb moves to your chin and down your throat, a couple of his fingers now softly grazing your shoulders which are on full display because of the camisole you are wearing. The cold metal of his rings sends shivers down your spine and at the thought of having one of those pretty hands firmly buried in between your legs, you can‘t help but press your thighs together and let out a soft sigh.

“I missed those pretty sounds”, Kuroo whispers, his voice a lot deeper, raspier and more strained than just a moment ago and you can‘t believe how just that tiny change has your pussy clenching even more desperately.

You slowly open your eyes, bottom lip firmly pulled between your teeth and heart almost brutally slamming against your rib cage.

“Is that why you stayed up, pretty one? You want me to fuck you? Have you grown that needy yet?”, your husband chuckles softly, excitement gleaming in his pretty eyes and if it wasn‘t for his words, you would have lost yourself in their familiarity.

“But I can‘t and won‘t blame you because I feel the exact same. It‘s been way too long”, he suddenly whispers, placing his glass on the little table next to the couch before he takes off his expensive watch and gets rid of his tie; his gaze never once leaving your needy one. You know he‘s enjoying the way you‘re practically squirming underneath him, whereas you struggle to care about how desperate you are for him.

“You‘re so quiet, baby, is everything alright?”, Kuroo says with worry swinging in his tone, eyes focusing the way you are busy pulling on your fingers and basically serving your nervousness on a silver plate.

A deep sigh leaves your lips when you realize that there‘s no point in even trying to hide what‘s bothering you, not when you have a husband as attentive and careful as Kuroo Tetsurou.

“I miss you, Tetsu”, you whisper and finally get yourself to lift your head and actually look at him, forcing yourself to maintain eye contact despite the thick veil of tears covering your sight.

“Oh, baby, I–”, “It‘s just...you work so much and on your days off you go and spend time with your boys and I can‘t help but feel like you‘re purposely avoiding me, even if you are this sweet to me. I know I don‘t have the right to feel this way because you’re pouring everything into your work and don‘t get me wrong, that‘s one of the reasons I‘m so in love with you, but it‘s been so, so long since we just had a whole day to ourselves. Just the two of us lazing around, watching trashy movies and fucking every now and then, like we used to do”, the words just keep coming, your chest growing lighter and lighter the more you speak and despite the volume of your heart literally thrumming inside your throat, you can‘t help but feel relieved.

Your husband never once stops looking at you, his hands firmly wrapped around yours as he listens to your every word.

“Tetsu, we haven‘t had sex in a month”, you say and gulp harshly, “and in the beginning, I didn‘t really care because I know just how exhausting and tiring work is for you. But then I came to visit you in your office and saw the women you were surrounded by and ever since that I can‘t stop myself from thinking that maybe that‘s why you refuse to touch me”, your voice breaks at the end of your sentence, followed by two thick tears streaming down your cheeks and a little sob falling past your lips.

You don‘t want to cry; you weren’t planning on doing so, but the pain and heaviness of not being enough for someone as perfect as Kuroo comes crashing down on you a lot faster than you expected it to.

“And that‘s okay!”, you suddenly say and lift your hands up to show him how okay you are with it as you nervously wipe away your tears. “My body has changed a lot ever since we first got together and we‘ve been with each other for so long, I won't ever blame you for actually leaving me to find someone else, seriously”, your words are raw, they‘re everything you‘ve been worrying about but they‘re also nothing but the truth.

Kuroo Tetsurou is way out of your league; always has been and always will be.

In all those years you‘ve been with him, he‘s only grown taller, muscles even stronger, face even sharper. Whereas you‘ve been struggling to get to the point where you feel absolutely satisfied with yourself.

Usually you manage to ignore those self-destructive and criticizing thoughts, mostly because Tetsu has ever failed to make you feel good about yourself. But in the past few weeks, you haven‘t even had the motivation to put on your favorite lingerie to send your husband some teasing pictures the way you like to. The thought of annoying him or actually turning him off with the sight of yourself hadn‘t left you alone so you opted to hate yourself instead.

“My love…”, Kuroo sighs and tilts his head back with a soft sigh before he places his hands on your waist and makes you straddle his lap.

You‘re quick to wrap your arms around his shoulders and push your face into the crook of his neck. This type of intimacy is the one you‘ve been craving the most: holding and being held by him. Slowly, but surely you feel yourself calming down and it doesn‘t take long for your cries to die down.

His warmth, scent, presence and soft touches build the perfect wall of security, comfort and protection you‘ve been trying to create for the past few weeks, yet have failed miserably every single time.

“Thank you for talking to me about this instead of bottling it up even more”, he begins, the deep bass of his voice sending vibrations through your chest, “I‘m sorry for making you feel this way. I really am. For me, you’ve always been so perfect and that won’t ever change. To think that you think this way actually breaks my heart and I promise I will try my best to make you feel more loved and appreciated just as I used to.”, he whispers, his hands softly roaming your body and in combination with his warm body so close to yours, you calm down completely.

“It‘s just been really stressful at work and I didn‘t want to burden you with it because I know how much you worry about me. I love my job, after all i get to do what I love and work with my best friends but I‘ve been neglecting you and that was and will always be the one thing I want to avoid, no matter how busy I get”, Kuroo’s words are genuine, they‘re sincere and they‘re everything you wanted to hear.

“I don‘t want you to feel obligated to spend time with me, Tetsu”, you reply and tilt your head to the side, your fingers grazing his pretty features softly, enjoying the familiarity of his gaze.

“Obligated? Baby, you‘re my wife. We‘re supposed to be there for each other and I‘ve promised to make you happy no matter what, and you know I always keep my promises”, Tetsurou replies and presses a soft kiss against your lips, his tight grip on your waist builds the sweetest contrast to it and easily leaves you longing for more.

“It’s been so long, all I‘ve been daydreaming about was you”, he breathes, sending shivers down your spine and with a soft whine, you bury your fingers in his thick hair, “the amount of times I‘ve fucked my fist to the thought of you is embarrassing, but I couldn‘t help it”, you gulp harshly at his lewd words, the mental image of your husband jerking off to you while you had convinced yourself he wasn’t as attracted to you anymore, definitely manages to boost your ego in just the right way..

You feel yourself growing hotter, the temperature in the room almost suffocating you and suddenly the thin camisole feels as heavy as a thick winter coat.

Kuroo lets out a soft grunt at the way you start pulling at his hair, his hands now anxiously groping the soft flesh of your thighs as he desperately tries to pull you even closer to his body. He starts littering your neck in open mouthed kisses, his hot breath fanning against your sensitive skin before he thrusts his hips up and elicits the sweetest moan from your throat just like that.

Usually you would have been embarrassed by the wet patch on your panties, especially because he hasn’t even done anything yet, but this time you can’t get yourself to care; arousal clouding your mind in a way you’ve missed it oh, so much.

“Baby…”, Tetsu groans, throwing his head back with a deep moan when you start circling your hips against the growing bulge in his pants, the friction giving your neglected clit just what it needs.

“Feels so good”, you whimper, pulling at his hair even more and losing yourself in the pleasure as soon as your husband meets the movements of your hips with lazy thrusts of his own.

“Look at my slutty little angel girl”, he sighs, his voice even raspier than before and if it wasn’t for the way he’s finally decided to pay some attention to your breasts, you would have lost your mind, “you’re so desperate and needy for my cock, hm? Just because you haven’t gotten your cunt fucked in a hot minute? How pathetic…”, the sound of those dirty words falling past his plump lips have you whining out loud almost shamelessly; after literal weeks of not hearing them, you can’t and won’t even try to deny just how much they get to you.

“Just for you”, you breathe against his mouth, pulling the flesh of his bottom lip into your mouth and sucking at it softly; Kuroo rewarding you with a deep grunt as he guides your hips to move your needy cunt over the whole of his clothed cock.

“Of course it’s just for me, baby”, Tetsu replies and pushes your camisole over your barely covered ass, kneading the soft flesh harshly before he lands a harsh spank on your left cheek; the beautiful combination of pain and pleasure pushing you even further into the thick haze of lust.

“I own this fucking cunt after all ”, he whispers into your ear, pulling the lobe between his teeth, “it’s all mine to use and fuck as I please. Only I get to stuff this tight pussy of yours full of my cum. Am I right, baby?”

You start nodding like crazy, your fingers nervously fumbling with the buttons of his dress shirt as the sudden need to feel his skin underneath yours overwhelms you.

“Cat got your tongue, pretty girl?”, he suddenly hisses and wraps his ring clad fingers around your throat, pulling your attention back to his face within a moment and as if the feeling of his tight grip wasn’t enough, he continues to roll his hips into yours, pushing his tip against your throbbing clit with every single movement.

“Yes, you’re right”, you whisper, your eyes lazily taking in the sigh of your husband’s flushed cheeks and bit swollen lips; his strong gaze fixating you like his life depends on it.

“There we go, good girl”, he smiles and softly pushes you from his lap and the sudden lack of pressure on your clit makes you whimper desperately. In fear of any form of distance, you take the fabric of his dress shirt into your palm, gripping it tightly as you look at him with teary eyes.

“Daddy…”, Kuroo looks at you with his brows arched in surprise, obviously not expecting this kind of reaction from you and at the sight of your quivering bottom lip, he can’t help but let out a soft chuckle.

“I’m here, baby. Don’t worry, I’m going to fuck your little pussy the whole night and make you cum as much as you want, okay? But I have to take my clothes off first and while I do that, you can prepare that tight cunt of yours for my cock, hm?”, your husband says softly, his hand caressing your naked thigh before he stands up to get himself undressed.

You let out a shaky sigh, your panties already sticking to the wet flesh of your cunt to the point of discomfort and for the first time ever since your first time (with Kuroo), you find yourself hesitating to get naked in front of your husband.

After weeks of struggling to like the person in the mirror until you eventually stopped looking at yourself completely, the thought of showing yourself off to the man you are so in love with, seems more than just scary.

And of course, Tetsu is quick to notice; almost instantly halting his movements as he watches you fumble with the hem of your camisole.

“You don’t have to take it off, baby”, he says and shrugs off his dress shirt to reveal his strong torso to your hungry eyes, the dark lines of his tattoos building the most beautiful sight in contrast to his pale skin.

“I fucking love your body. Every mark, every scar, every single thing you hate about yourself. You’re perfect to me, my love, please don’t ever forget that”, you gulp harshly, the genuine tone in his voice taking away some of the heaviness on your chest and you feel tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, “and I’m sorry that I haven’t been there for you. But before everything, I want you to feel comfortable with me, okay?”

With a soft sigh and an appreciative smile, you start nodding, a single tear running down your cheek as you enjoy the hungry gaze of your husband roaming your body.

You manage to get a grip of yourself a moment later, pulling your ruined panties down your legs and handing them to Kuroo as if it was the most normal thing to do. And for you – it kind of is.

Ever since the two of you had first started getting intimate with each other, Kuroo had always asked for your underwear, shamelessly pressing the crotch to his nose to inhale the scent of your arousal.

“Come on, pretty girl, you know I won’t fuck you if you don’t prepare yourself first”, Tetsurou umbles and fumbles with his belt, staring at you with hooded eyes and an almost devilish smirk on his lips.

A shiver runs down your spine as you pull down the straps of your camisole with shaking fingers, pushing the fabric down until you finally expose your naked chest to your husband’s prying gaze. You watch the way he stops what he’s doing as he waits for you to do what he’s asked you to do and with another shaky inhale, you let your hand wander in between your spread legs.

“You’re a fucking mess, pretty one”, he remarks, finally pushing his pants down his thick thighs, “can’t wait to fill that tight pussy up to the brim with my fat cock. You better stretch yourself, baby, Daddy’s not going to go easy on you tonight.”

And as soon as those words leave his lips, you plunge one one of your fingers into your wet hole, a soft moan escaping your throat at the feeling of your digit dragging along your sensitive walls. Only a couple of pumps later, you add another one; your whole body craving the feeling of being filled until you can’t breathe and after having to use your fingers to get yourself off for so long, you can’t wait to finally get what you’ve been wanting so badly.

With almost practiced flicks of your wrist, you manage to hit all the right places as you rub your clit against the palm of your hand, pushing yourself closer to your orgasm and easily blending out the presence of your husband. A row of soft moans leaves you, the feeling of your fingers just slightly grazing that sweet spot deep inside of you has you arching your back desperately.

“Baby”, Kuroo’s deep voice pulls you out of your dazing haze of arousal, “I told you to stretch yourself out, not make yourself cum”, he hisses, pulling your fingers out of your clenching core before he holds your hand up for both of you to see the amount of juices covering your digits.

“I’m sorry, Daddy”, you whimper and gulp harshly, trying your best not to press your thighs together when Tetsu wraps his tongue around your fingers and starts lapping up your arousal.

“Fuck”, he moans loudly, pushing your legs apart even further before his gaze drops to your glistening cunt, “I want to eat that pretty pussy of yours so badly, baby”, he whispers, his nails digging into the skin of your thighs before he moves one of his hands up to grope your breast, harshly pulling at your perky nipple.

“No!!”, you whine and sit up, wrapping your fingers around his wrist and staring at him with another pout on your lips, “can you please fuck me first? Need you to stuff me with your cock”, you add, moving your hand up to palm his rock hard erection through the fabric of his boxer briefs, of course taking the opportunity to caress the warm skin of his torso.

But instead of replying, Kuroo just scoffs, pushing your hands away from his body before he wordlessly makes you lay back down on your back again, his ice cold gaze making you whimper in anticipation. Despite watching him lift his hand, you can’t hold back the loud yelp when he suddenly lands a harsh spank on your cunt, followed by a second and a third one; the delicious sting sending tears into your ears and eliciting a row of high pitched moans from you as the throbbing of your clit intensifies.

“Oh, angel girl”, he groans and – finally – pushes his fingers underneath the waistband of his boxer briefs, “we both know if it hadn’t been this long, I would have made you ride my face for hours, so you better be grateful Daddy’s just as needy as you tonight…”, you let out a sigh of relief, followed by a gasp when your husband slowly pulls his underwear down his thighs, his thick cock slapping against his abs and almost instantly making you whimper.

“Patience, my love”, Tetsu mumbles before he gets comfortable between your legs and then starts teasing your needy clit with the wet tip of his hard length.

“Ready, baby?", he whispers against your lips, giving you one last kiss on the lips before he slowly pushes into you; the slick sounds of your walls taking him in the only thing you hear before his loud moan fills your ears.

"Fuck, you're always so fucking tight, no matter how many times I fuck you", he hisses through gritted teeth, giving you the time to adjust to his impressive size, your breath hitching in your throat because of the amount of pleasure rushing through your veins.

"I missed this little cunt so fucking much, baby", your husband mumbles against your cheeks and starts to move his hips slowly.

"Missed your cock, too", you whine, “so much”, your nails scratch the skin of his broad back when his movements start picking up pace.

His long and sensually slow strokes against the sensitive walls of your cunt give you a hard time focusing on anything else but the sweet anticipation. Kuroo hums at your words, his thrusts even deeper than just a second prior and the way he pulls all the way out only to thrust into you with full force, has your head spinning. Your mouth falls open as his harsh pounding elicits loud moans from you with every single thrust and at this point, you're not even trying to keep quiet.

Kuroo fucks you hard and fast, edging you multiple times as he brings you close to your orgasm, only to pull away just as you're about to cum. Your pussy starts clenching around his thick cock like crazy, your whole body on fire with sweat dripping down your temples and your own drool coating your chin because of your inability to close your mouth.

“P-Please, Daddy", you whimper hoarsely, your clit throbbing in need every time your husband grazes your sweet spot with the head of his cock.

“A little longer, baby”, he encourages you, burying his face in the crook of your neck as his grip on your waist tightens with every single one of his movements, “I want you to cum with Daddy, okay? Come on, you got this. I know you do, after all you’re my good girl, right?”, your husband whispers, pulling away to lift your legs up and place them over his shoulders, basically folding you in half.

The pleasure slowly but surely starts crashing down on you in literal waves, suffocating you in the best way possible as you enjoy the feeling of being stuffed so full. Your moans

grow louder, tears start streaming down your cheeks and your juices gushing out of your spasming hole every time Tetsu enters you.

“You’re so beautiful like this, baby”, you whine at his words, his hot breath sending goosebumps down your body and pushing you deeper into the sweetest haze of tenderness and pleasure, “I’m so lucky to have an angel as perfect as you. Fuck, I’m so in love with you”, Tetsurou lets out a row of loud moans when your cunt starts spasming around his cock.

It doesn't take long for the knot In the pit of your stomach to start tightening, the bittersweet feeling of arousal rushing through your body way too intense to not result in a rather quick and intense high. You start clenching around him, your cunt hugging his cock as tight as a damn vice, easily eliciting deep grunts and sinful groans with every single time and the way Kuroo is digging his fingers into the soft flesh of your breasts because of it has your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

"I'm so c-close", you whispers, throwing your head back, harshly pulling at your husband’s thick hair as pleasure is taking up the last bits of your sane mind, "Daddy – fuck – I love your cock so much", you moan, slowly losing yourself in the urgent need to finally reach your much-needed climax but also because you know how much your husband loves being worshipped.

"More, baby", he whimpers into your ear, speeding up the movements of his hips,his thrusts reaching an almost brutal pace, "I'm almost there, I wanna cum with you", he continues and with a soft nod you do as he asks.

"Your cock was made for my cunt. Nobody can fuck me as good as you can", you say, a high pitched moan following your praise, "only you and your big cock can make me feel this way, s-shit, I love you so fucking much.”

It doesn't take another minute of him rubbing firm circles into the sensitive nub as you finally stumble over the edge.

“You've been so good for me, baby, so fucking good. Cum for me,make me proud", Kuroo orders and with the words leaving his beautiful lips, you stumble over the edge.

High pitched moans and loud whimpers fill the room as you're trying to handle the waves of pleasure overwhelming your whole body. Your sight blurs for a solid second, the intensity of your orgasm taking your breath away and you feel like you'll pass out.

Kuroo’s hungry gazes lingers on you as he helps you ride out your orgasm. You take a deep breath after finally calming down again, your fingers finding his cheek before you look him in the eyes and wrap your hand around his throat. A choked out moan leaves his lips, his hips stuttering as you apply pressure, his gaze never leaving yours and the way he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth makes you clench around him.

"Fuck, I love you so much, baby", he whispers, his voice still strained from the lack of oxygen and you can tell by his sloppy thrusts and soft whines that he's about to reach his high.

"I love you, too. So, so much", you whisper into his open mouth, your lips connecting as you start swallowing his beautiful noises and with one last thrust, Kuroo’s whole body tenses up as he coats the inside of your cunt with his cum . And just as usual he pulls out quickly, two thick spurts covering your drenched pussy as well. Your husband throws his head back with a sharp inhale before his gaze shifts back between your legs and he watches his orgasm dribbling out of your tight cunt with excitement and heavy lust sparkling in his eyes and you can't help but smile.

Kuroo starts massaging your thighs softly for a couple of minutes, both of you coming down from your high while taking in the sight of one another until your husband gets up and disappears in the guest bathroom.

You watch him come back with a wet washcloth in his hand and messy hair lazily falling into his flawless face, a few single strands falling into his handsome face; making you sigh sleepily because of how good he looks with his flushed cheeks and your marks on the pretty skin of his neck and chest.

Your husband carefully cleans you up and litters your skin in soft kisses as he whispers soft words of gratitude and praise, making it even easier for you to fall in love with him all over again.

After a quick post-sex cuddle session on the couch, Kuroo basically forces you to pull through with your night time routine, softly telling you about his day at work as he brushes his teeth and applies his skin care products.

By the time Kuroo has his face buried in the crook of your neck again, you’re ready to pass out right then and there; not even struggling a little bit to actually fall asleep for the first time in weeks — thanks to your husband.

“Thank you for being by my side, my love”, he whispers against your skin, making you smile softly.

Just as you get yourself to reply with a love confession, Kuroo pulls away and looks into your eyes before he whispers: “you’re everything I’ve ever asked for and I won’t ever take you or your presence in my life for granted.”

[cinnamonest]

Yandere Profile - Baizhu

When I tell you I adore this man so much, he's so underappreciated and I intend to do my best to do him justice

ft. Changsheng the enabler and Qiqi the liability

WARNINGS: fem reader, dubcon/noncon, abduction, heavy drugging content, mentions of force feeding against a hunger strike, emotional manipulation of a child, homicide

What are they generally like? Lucid, aware? Obsessive? How do they behave?

If one had to describe his nature in a singular word, it would be careful.

Incredibly, meticulously careful. There is not one single step taken that has not been perfectly planned out ahead of time, multiple possibilities and issues thought through and accounted for. He would not rush into something of this nature unprepared, and more importantly, his cautiousness comes from another trait he has in abundance: determination. Dedication to seeing a goal through, the firm resolution that he will obtain what he desires, one way or another, with no regard to what measures need to be taken to do so, nor how long it will take.

Not to mention, from a moral perspective, one might be surprised at how indifferent he is to the notion of doing something... unethical. People tend to associate medical professionals with some sort of assumed overall moral good, that someone who dedicates their life to the pursuit of the health of others must be a morally sound person in all areas of life by default.

Well, that is true to an extent. He does want to stay within ethical bounds. He's a generally good and compassionate person, yes, and would never go out of his way to harm anyone for the sake of it. He doesn't bear any malice towards anyone. He will inconvenience or burden himself if it means doing the right thing, when the right thing does not pose any risk to him and his goals. And when it's things he doesn't care too much about, he will relinquish a goal if he realizes it would do harm. So overall, it would be correct to say that he is a morally sound person.

But if violating certain commonly agreed-upon ethical boundaries is necessary to obtain his most fervent desires... well.

He's perfectly well-aware. He's self-aware, for starters, acutely so. He knows exactly what he feels and why, knows it is of abnormal degree, and knows what it will inevitably lead to. He knows that both from a social and ethical standpoint, such things are wrong, that it violates society's conventions and standards (not to mention laws) of what is acceptable behavior by limiting another's freedoms and violating their autonomy. It's not even something he really needs to reflect on. He just notices and becomes aware of an intense emotion, recognizes that emotion and its degree of severity, and draws an immediate logical conclusion as to what will happen depending on how he chooses to handle that emotion and how each course of action is perceived by society. Very simple, really.

It's lamentable — he himself has reflected on this to himself multiple times, often speaking aloud to Changsheng about it behind closed doors.

How troublesome that even I am not immune to these sorts of desires...In the end, the nature and instinct of any given creature is immutable, I suppose.

She rarely has anything to offer other than vague warnings of not letting it spiral out of control, which he assures will not happen.

But oh well. Sure, it's inconvenient, but there is no point in fighting something as innate as one's own feelings in this area of things. Suppressing the emotions would be a waste, so it is much wiser and more efficient to simply accept them, then work through how he intends to handle them.

Cautious, intelligent, perceptive, patient, self-aware, willing to violate ethics, and of an indomitable resolve. This combination of traits is, as you might imagine, more or less one of the worst hands of fate that could be dealt to whoever is targeted by the individual possessing them.

He's an easy person to warm up to, though. Very likable and pleasant. He's not nervous around you or anything, and gives no hint of any ill intent, so you have no reason to suspect anything. Well, he might be just a bit overbearing towards you, just barely noticeably touchy or insistent, but it's nothing that strikes you as indicative of anything you should genuinely be concerned over.

Except for this... aura. While nothing he does really concerns you, there is almost some tangible feeling of something being "off" in a way you can't really articulate nor explain. Regardless, he's been helpful and kind to you, so you brush it off as nothing.

There's also distinct lack of the intense outward expression of emotion usually associated with obsessive lovers and abductors and the like. He's fairly... calm about it all. Perhaps it's an ability stemming from his meticulous and careful planning to eliminate risk, or perhaps it's that he has full and acute self-awareness and accurate perception and understanding of himself and why he feels what he does. Or perhaps it's just his nature. Maybe some combination of all of the above. But even at his worst moments, he has a fairly calm aura about him, nothing seems to bother or upset him too much. He always seems to have calculated for every potential misstep or complication.

He does make an attempt to grow closer to you, though. He's masterful with an ability to orchestrate encounters that genuinely seem to be coincidence, as well as creating inconveniences for you that will lead you to seek him out. If anything, you're usually apologizing for doing so, since he seems so busy... but he dismisses it with a wave of his hand, assures you that it's fine, that he's very happy to be of assistance to you.

This, too, isn't just because he enjoys your presence, but it's also a preparatory measure in and of itself. The more familiar you are with him, the closer you consider yourself to be with him, the easier of a time he'll have handling you when the time inevitably comes that he'll have to take certain courses of action that you may disapprove of, to say the least. He needs all the endearment to you he can get before that happens.

How likely are they to kidnap their darling? How quickly will they do so?

He's a bit conflicted, can't really decide if he wants to or not. His reluctance isn't really based in morality nor fear; he's not particularly concerned with the former on this matter, and he's fully confident he can successfully pull it off, so no need for nervousness.

Rather, he has the sort of possessive, primal desire to take you all for himself, one that he recognizes as a rash instinct that he needs to carefully ponder, and yet, he realizes that the direct consequence of acting on those desires would cause him to fall out of favor with you. He does love your smiles you give him, how nice you've been to him, your kind words, and he knows that would disappear, only to be replaced with resentment and fear, the moment he takes you away from your life.

He often sighs and mumbles to himself about it. What to do, what to do.... such a frustrating predicament.

Human nature is fascinating, isn't it? He's so consciously aware that this is abnormal and unwell, that he should attempt to resolve it, yet he has no desire to resolve it, only craving to further indulge in it. Yet he wants to be certain that he doesn't take any rash action, that he knows what he's doing through and through.

So, he refrains, at least for some time. However, it's not an attempt to refrain permanently — he knows full well that eventually, he will act on his desires, that it's only a matter of time. But for now, he wants to savor every word, every interaction, every smile, until he knows he will eventually cave in, and those things will be gone. He also reasons that, as aforementioned, by knowing you and being acquainted with you longer under your normal life and circumstances, he can attempt to endear himself to you and grow closer to you in that time, which will, he hopes, ease the transition when you no longer have your freedoms, that you will be more inclined to forgive him and act with empathy for him rather than hostility.

However, should he happen upon a coincidence, the stars align and the pieces all fall into place so perfectly without him having to arrange it, well, he'll certainly take the opportunity that presents itself. You show up complaining of fever or headache or something of that nature, and in your discomfort, it doesn't quite occur to you how unusual and seemingly irrelevant the questions he's asking you are—

I assume you let someone know where you were headed when you left home? ...No? Oh, I see....

You don't by chance have anywhere you'll be expected to be in the next short while, would you?

—and it won't, until it's too late.

Otherwise, should the opportunity not arise on its own, he has to wait. The days pass. A few months in total. But the longing and the ache and the scalding feeling of intense jealousy when he sees you with others, it all becomes too much, and he's forced to put into motion a plan he has now had quite some time to prepare for. Invite you over for "something important" with perfect timing, memorizing your schedule to hopefully ensure that it will happen before you see anyone whom you might inform of where you're going. From there, once he has you inside, it's no effort at all from that point forward.

He has a remarkable ability to give off this calm, nonthreatening aura, combined with a gentle and charming voice that lulls you into a sense of safety, that keeps you from noticing anything strange about what he's doing, even if you do still have that faint sense of unease in the back of your mind. It feels sweet and endearing, really, that you trust him so.

So he goes through with it. Sets up the necessary steps, and executes the plan as predetermined.

And then he tells you about it.

Once it's already too late, of course. You already drank what you were given without any hint of suspicion or distrust, and the way your eyes suddenly widen and your body twitches and slumps forward indicates it's setting in.

That's a regular part of the effect, terribly sorry about that. Oh, don't worry, you're not in any danger. You see, it's just... ah, how should I put it...

Thus he starts to go on elaborating on exactly what he drugged you with, and more importantly, begins explaining exactly why. As in, he openly confesses to being deeply enamored, as he puts it, and that he, likewise in his own words, has—

—some sort of abnormal psychological development that has taken place, although I'm not entirely sure how to best articulate it... regardless, I'm sure you now see that these impulses are inducing problematic behavior, but I'm afraid I have already succumbed to them, unfortunately...

He speaks with this lighthearted tone and whimsical sighs if he's explaining some sort of mild, harmless inconvenience, something of little consequence, all while he's gently going about sitting you back upright, closing your mouth so you stop involuntarily drooling, fixing the cup you spilled over and cleaning up what spilled onto the table. As if it's just a regular, everyday occurrence that he's paying little attention to, and not something of great weight and severity.

What this ultimately means is that you won't actually be leaving anytime soon. While unreasonable on its own, I assume that makes sense in the context of what I've just explained to you.

He turns back towards you, loops his arms under your armpits and hoists you up. There's a slight strained grunt with the physical exertion, but he manages to pick you up without too much trouble. He's still talking while carrying you through the door to the hall, but you don't really hear much it as you begin to succumb to unconsciousness — you only really process one more sentence.

You're awfully trusting, you know. You really ought to be more careful, should someone could have malicious intent...

How difficult is it to escape from them? How do they keep you restrained? How do they deal with attempted escape? 

The physical restraints aren't so bad. He keeps a reverse lock on the outside of the front door, and for a little while, a singular chain to your ankle.

After a short while, and a verbal agreement that you will not try anything, he gives you a surprising degree of leniency, gives you the ability to roam to some extent. You can be present at the front where strangers show up to the desk, even. But he'll be watching. He has ways, as he puts it, of knowing what you're doing.

You're not sure what to do. It seems like such an opportunity, and yet, you know that someone as calculated as he is wouldn't give you that opportunity without having a plan he could easily enact if something goes wrong. You know he doesn't really place that much trust in your word through your verbal agreement alone. You want to do something to try and catch someone's attention or something, but there's this gut feeling you have that knows that doing that would be a mistake.

He almost certainly wouldn't harm anyone, you're pretty sure of that being true, but... can you say that with one-hundred percent certainty? If pushed to the point of it being a matter of securing you and your arrangement, preventing someone who saw more than they should from telling, can you really be certain he wouldn't take drastic measures...?

You just don't know. Sure, you're fairly certain of his overall goodness of character... but then again, that's also what you thought when you brushed off the occasional comment or expression from him that used to make you feel some faint sense of alarm or unease — that he was certainly a good person, just a bit eccentric at times. You told yourself back then that he was not the sort of person who would ever do anything bad to anyone. You overestimated his goodness once, and look where that got you. Can you really be sure that someone who would go so far as to do what he's already done, wouldn't hurt or kill someone too, if it came down to it...? And when you think even more about it, doesn't the fact that he's letting you roam so much imply that he is ready to take some other measures if you tried anything?

You just don't know. It's all so uncertain.

And he knows that. You can tell from the soft, content, knowing smile on his face. He knows exactly what thoughts are going through your mind. As long as that doubt is there, hopefully you won't force his hand to make him have to take unsavory measures to ensure your security.

Now if you were to actually successfully, temporarily get away and be caught and brought back again, this is where Baizhu actually has a rather unique reaction, both intriguing and odd compared to how other captors and obsessive lovers would react.

That is, he harbors no resentment or anger over your desires to be free. In fact, provided he caught you early, his reaction is fairly calm. If you managed to get out for a while, he's more visibly panicked when he finds you, but he still manages to calm himself down by the time he brings you back, and doesn't lash out or have any sort of angry outburst.

You still endure some form of punishment — can't just let you get away with it, of course, you'd just be more likely to do it again — but you very quickly notice he doesn't really seem all that angry or anything. At some point, you question him on it, and he's very transparent with his answer.

To tell you the truth, I can't really blame you. You're only following your instincts. It's endearing, in a way.

Being angry, he explains, would be nonsensical, silly, unreasonable. It is only natural for a human to desire autonomy and as few restrictions on themselves as possible. Yet, it is also human nature to want to control others, and to have the object of their desires all to themselves, kept away like a treasure. Both his actions and yours are perfectly natural and reasonable, and since he himself has followed his natural inclinations and instincts, he can't blame you for doing the same and following yours.

And then, he smiles.

But it seems you weren't quite capable of achieving your goal. I suppose you'll just have to hope you have better luck on your next attempt... And I, that there won't be one.

How easy are they to trick, deceive, or manipulate?

Needless to say, Baizhu is both intelligent and perceptive. Most of the time, he can easily catch you in a lie. More importantly, he knows that given the circumstances, it's obvious you'll be trying to lie to him fairly regularly, so he's on guard about it, making him that much more likely to notice.

But on the rare occasion you do manage to trick him in some way, unless it was something that put you, him, or your situation in genuine danger, he doesn't get too upset. It's just the philosophy he takes, he explains as he shrugs it off— Really, it was foolish of me to not anticipate something like that. Considering the circumstances, I should never have allowed myself to become so unguarded.

Much like with attempts at escape, it's only natural to lie to him to achieve what you want. Likewise, it's only natural for you to receive some form of punishment to deter you from repeating the attempt of deception. Simple. So while he doesn't have a particularly angry or emotional response to it, don't expect to just get away with it either.

He's also very well aware when you manipulate him, acknowledges it even, but similarly to lying, he doesn't seem to mind too much. If anything, as long as it's something mild in nature, he finds it amusing, will chuckle and smile.

Oh, my. I see what you're doing... well, how could I say no when you're being so sweet about it?

That applies only to that which is mild, though. If your request or attempted goal is something that would actually be a risk, he gets far more serious and firm in his approach.

Surely you don't expect me to fall for that, dear. As much as I'd like to fulfill any wish you have, I know better than to take that sort of risk.

It was worth a try. You win some, you lose some.

How lenient are they? What privileges can you have, and what will you be denied?

He knows that mental stimulation will be important to your ensuring that you remain of sound mind and health for the foreseeable future. There's limits, of course, he's not dumb enough to fall for requests for things that you could use to harm him or break out, but he'll get you what you want, within reason. Especially books, which, as he says, are important for keeping your mind sharp. Those he'll get you even without asking, often bringing you something at random because he thinks you might enjoy its contents.

And hey, he also might as well capitalize on the opportunity. To prevent boredom, you can also help him out. Lots of jars that need organizing and labeling, papers that need to be filled and documented, and so on. Of course, he'll double check to ensure there's no maliciously doing it wrong or anything, but he appreciates it if you're willing and compliant.

What kind of rules do they have? What kind of punishment would they use?

He doesn't like to feel like he's being strict or harsh, but he does set specific guidelines. They're fairly short and simple.

One, you will not attempt to leave, or to rope anyone else into "helping" you.

Two, you will not attempt to cause any harm or damage to himself, his property, or any other residents or visitors you may come into contact with.

Third, you will not attempt to commit any action that intentionally causes, or has a potential to accidentally cause, any danger or harm to yourself.

Violate any of these conditions, and naturally, there will be consequences. All actions have cause and effect, this is just the law of the universe, so it is only fair to enforce a consequence.

He's still pretty forgiving, but if you push his limits, he'll begin enacting those consequences, getting progressively more intense according to the nature of your offense. Confining you to one room, putting you back into an ankle shackle, so on and so on. All done with this self-righteous attitude, telling you how it's for your own benefit that this is done.

But along the same previous lines of reasoning as to why he gives you things to keep you occupied, he knows how important stimulation is to one's psychological well-being, and can just as easily use this against you. If you've been very, very bad, repeated attempts at running away and total defiance, some more intense measures are needed. As with any other ailment, your poor behavior is something he has just the thing to treat with.

The dependency itself, you see, creates bonding. Being forced to rely on another for such basic needs is a process equally humiliating and endearing. The isolation, on the other hand, ensures that your brain associates only him with the positive chemicals and emotions induced by having stimuli to free you from boredom, as well as your needs being met and...

He continues to explain it out to you as he goes. You're still only restrained by one ankle binding, but he doesn't need much in that regard, because he doesn't really have to worry about you moving around in the first place. You can barely move a muscle anyway.

It is quite torturous, isn't it? He almost feels bad for you. You still have some control over your face, and he can see the obvious displeasure in your expression. Unable to move your arms, your legs, anything but the truly important muscular functions like being able to swallow and breathe and the like. Forced to sit there numbly while he brings cups of water and spoonfuls of broth to your mouth, when he wipes your body down in substitution for bathing. Yes, it's clear how much you dislike this, but that's the point, isn't it? This would not have to happen if you could just be a bit more compliant. That wouldn't truly be so hard, would it? He asks in such a patronizing voice.  Should you keep your mouth shut and refuse to eat or drink, he'll sigh, give up for the moment and try again later. If this persists after a few days, though, he'll just have to force it, and is not above doing so.

After a few days of this, he'll allow it to wear off, provided you've proven your repentance and promise you're going to be good in the future. An unlikely promise, he realizes, but at least the sentiment counts.

Oh, and he does establish one other rule out of frustration after a certain incident: no taking his glasses and hiding them. Really, it was quite a childish act of spite on your part, and caused him a terrible deal of inconvenience. Best to address it and forbid that from reoccurring...

How do they deal with rivals, or perceived rivals? Will they get rid of them? Will they kill them themselves, or find another way?

Rivals are actually something you don't have to worry too much about, in terms of them getting hurt. Baizhu is calculated and reasonable, highly rational, and doesn't take any sort of rash action. And in his mind, as long as you're confined, other people are no longer an issue.

If he feels someone is becoming enough of a threat in the pre-captivity stage of his obsession, being aware of any affection another person has for you or vice versa will simply serve as a catalyst in your abduction, and almost certainly expedite that process, out of urgency to get you away from a perceived threat. Provided you are secured, though, he sees no reason to risk the potential consequences of taking any action against a rival, even if he does harbor resentment for them.

Do not, however, mistake that for instinctive reluctance. It doesn't mean he's the sort of person who would be to afraid to kill someone, or, as you might initially imagine he would be, a person who would feel an innate sense of guilt and wrongness, who is averse to doing anything truly wrong. No, he's more than confident in his ability to successfully pull off a homicide if he were to try, and honestly, he's really not that naturally guilty, that is, in the sense of the sort of person who would be haunted by their actions and feel guilty by instinct. Rather, he has to intentionally hold himself back, tell himself he can't do such a thing no matter how much he wants to, as a matter of dignity.

Homicide would, after all, be more or less entirely antithetical to his universal occupational creed. And while again, he doesn't have an instinct against it, he values his own self-image. He wouldn't feel guilty, but he'd feel disappointed in himself, ashamed to have failed to uphold the idea of sanctity of life and all that. And perhaps even more importantly, such an act is one of petulant spite, if you ask him, and he would be somewhat embarrassed to see himself committing such an act, as if it's an admittance of having let someone else's presence bother him so much. It's a matter, thus, of self-respect and dignity more than anything. Therefore, with you secured away, he'll simply leave them be... although he's not above perhaps a bit of pettiness if the opportunity presents itself, such as being able to mildly inconvenience them somehow without it being connected to him.

That being said, there is a limit to his inhibition for the sake of self-image.

There's one circumstance under which he would see it fit to kill: said rival is looking for you after your disappearance, and he gets the very strong sense that the individual in question knows something they shouldn't, or otherwise seems to have some correct suspicion of what has occurred. He feels their eyes linger on him, this narrow-eyed sort of glare. They ask some rather odd questions. Or perhaps they're foolishly upfront about it, asking if he wouldn't happen to have seen you on the day you were last heard from, an accusatory edge to their tone.

Baizhu is actually quite masterful at keeping calm and maintaining an innocent act in such situations. He doesn't get defensive or hostile, rather, he pretends he just doesn't perceive the subtle tone of accusation. No, I haven't. Terrible thing, that. I hope there's some good news to come out of that situation soon...

But to himself, this confirms that he can't afford to leave this individual undealt with. It's not his fault, really. They forced his hand. Not that he's overjoyed to finally have a reasonable self-justification to kill off the person that has secretly always bothered him more than he lets on, though, no, nothing like that.

His method is perfectly simple, although he may have to wait a while to be able to enact it. But no matter, he can bide his time. Everyone gets sick eventually. They'll come to him. And if it's too urgent, they clearly know far too much and he can't afford to wait, he simply makes an invitation, says he has something he heard or saw that may have some connection to you, and that he wishes to discuss it at once.

If it's the former, and he actually has the chance to drug them, he'll easily take that method, as it's the cleanest and the one he's most adept with. And if he invites them to speak with him, well, he'll still poison their tea and all, but he's not going to get his hopes up that it will actually be consumed, given they have every reason to suspect him. Unfortunately, this may mean he's forced to take more unpleasant means.

As much as he enjoys having them out of the way, it turns out the act of killing someone via means other than poison is actually quite unpleasant. He knows he's not healthy and strong enough at the moment to risk being overpowered if he attempted strangulation or drowning, so he just has to go full-on old fashioned and come up behind them and stab them to death. It's a very brutish act, really. Probably looks very awkward and ugly from an outside perspective. Ugh. Blood on his hands and face and the floor and the table... and now he has to wash this shirt, too... at least it will make a decent addition to the compost for herbs. Sigh.

How easy is it to make them mad? What does their anger look like?

Baizhu is largely defined by a sort of passive attitude, although it does have its limits. But for the most part, he's very tolerant and patient. Part of it is just a natural disposition, while it's also in part due to years of having dealt with a wide variety of people of varying, and often unpleasant, temperaments, in varying levels of discomfort, and thus not always pleasant to deal with.

This can be to your benefit, in terms of the fact that he's forgiving and somewhat lenient towards you. If you put on a sweet act or a pitiful apologetic act, in particular, after getting caught doing something you aren't supposed to be, it turns out to be a weak spot for him. He knows full well you're doing it intentionally, but in his own words, he just can't bring himself to be too upset when you have that look in your eyes.

While beneficial under most circumstances, his patience and slowness to anger can also be incredibly frustrating if you're the bitter type who tries to make him mad. He knows you're doing exactly that, and he knows that not giving you the reaction you want will infuriate you further, and to be honest, it's rather cute watching you get more and more upset. He can hold out for quite a while like that, as long as your behavior is not something harmful to anyone.

Be careful overusing or abusing his lenience, though, or pushing the boundaries. If you take it a step too far, do something one too many times, that patience meets its end. You can tell exactly when you've crossed that line by the look on his face, narrowed eyes and a stern, unamused expression. He speaks in a firmer tone than usual, and is far more blunt with his words.

That's enough, now. I've been very patient with you. Do not test me further.

The sudden shift and stark difference to his usual demeanor is enough to make you freeze up, and deters you on its own, far more than it would coming from someone who usually speaks in that sort of voice. Should you nonetheless, perhaps out of spite, continue your defiance, it goes a step further.

He's still not the sort of person to show anger very outwardly. Quite the opposite. You know you have truly, royally fucked up because he goes dead silent. Takes a deep breath in, heavy sigh out. Puts down the pen or closes a book or whatever else he's handling with a harsh sound, stands up without a word. You can feel a twisting in your stomach from the aura coming off of him, feel a sort of dreadful tension in the air. When he does finally speak, it's in that same cold, firm voice, as he latches a hand onto your arm and begins to pull you off into another room.

Alright, then. I see you don't intend to make this easy.

You can start to sputter out apologies at that point, but you're not going to get any further words out of him. After all, you've made it clear that words aren't enough to get through to you anyway.

How do they express affection, or attempt to endear themselves to you?

Baizhu is very fond of pet names. Dear. Darling. Love. Even if it embarrasses you, he doesn't really care. It takes a while to get used to, he throws those terms around so casually, it makes you flustered and feel all warm and you're not really sure how to react. But it just comes naturally to him, really, he wasn't initially intending for it to have any effect, although seeing that it does have an effect is quite amusing.

Otherwise, he likes to just spend time with you. The activity doesn't really matter, in fact, you don't even need to be doing the same thing together or anything. You can be doing your own thing while he does his, that's also fine. He just likes being in your vicinity.

Doing things together, though, is very nice. He's fond of doing mundane, routine things with you. Laundry, cooking, cleaning. Helping him restock by handing him jars while he puts them in their proper place, or vice versa. The little things, the things that don't require a great deal of thought or exchange of words, yet allow him to bask in your warmth and the bliss of simplicity in life with someone you love.

So they see you as above them, beneath them, or equal to them?

Baizhu is a fairly humble man. He's also objective, when it comes to such matters. Love you as he does, he still acknowledges your weaknesses and strengths.

Considering a person to be "greater" or "lesser" as a whole, he would argue, is in and of itself a concept that could only be born from a rather simple brain to begin with. Such a generalization fails to consider the complexity of the individual human existence. It is frankly impossible, or at least distasteful and lacking any respectable extent of intelligent thought, to take a single person — who has a unique skillset, physical and mental attributes, experiences, and a whole array of knowledge unique to that one individual — and condense all that complexity into one simple lump sum of "value", them do the same for another, and compare the two. The very notion itself is lacking intelligence, and only a person equally lacking intelligence and rationality, or perhaps simply a person of a neurotically grandiose nature, would try to claim one person is inherently of greater value.

But he can recognize those individual traits. If he's more intelligent than you are, he's very open to acknowledging it. If you're in better physical shape and health than he is, he'll readily admit it.

A person is what they are, they each have their strengths. If you ever get into the subject, he'll likely start philosophizing a bit about human nature — how tragic it is that so many humans obsess over those strengths that they are lacking, and in doing so allow the strengths they possess to go to waste. It is human nature to be discontent with oneself, perhaps—

Ah... am I boring you? Haha. No, no, it's quite alright.

How determined are they for you to love them? How hard will they try to make it happen? Or are they content just having you?

He fully acknowledges before ever taking you to be with him, that doing so will be detrimental any hopes of mutual affection. That's part of the pros and cons he heavily weighs before going through with that. But alas, it's a necessary hurdle to face, part of the price of having you to himself.

For the short term, at least.

He's not unfamiliar with psychology to some extent, seeing as it and his own field are somewhat related. He's very well aware of the known effects that prolonged isolation and exclusion from the rest of society, as well as forced dependence, will have on a person.

So he's not too worried about it. Sure, you may be resentful now, but he can wait. As he always does. Patient, calculated. He knows eventually there will be a shift, and then a decline. First comes anger, then that will die down, then a period of quiet despond, and eventually, as the soundness of mind deteriorates, you will come back to him, feel the same fondness you did before. It's predictable, linear, like clockwork. The human mind and the human body are alike in that way, often following patterns that can be accurately predicted far before actually reaching that stage of progression. Just as he can heal various diseases and ailments by referencing existing knowledge of the body, so he can "fix" your mind and your sentiments by utilizing the knowledge of the mind.

If you start to become exceptionally discontent and disagreeable at any given time, he'll just go with the foolproof method that works every time — total isolation besides him, dark room, no stimulus, bound hand and foot or kept immobile by drugs. A few days of that and you usually crack. The cycle repeats, but he always knows just how to get you back to the way he prefers you.

Bonus: Is there anything that makes them unique, in comparison to other yanderes?

Firstly, as aforementioned, he's almost amusingly transparent. He explains a good deal of what he does to you and exactly why he's doing it, what affects it will have, etc. Most captors would probably keep quiet on exactly how they intend for their actions to induce a bond with you or force you into this or that, but not him.

You're smart, see. He knows you'll probably figure it out anyway. What's the point of withholding it then? Besides, he has a habit of thinking out loud sometimes, so it just comes natural to him to sort of mutter about what he's doing as he goes about his tasks. No point in refraining from that when there's no real reason to.

It's not as if you knowing what he's doing or what the intended effect is will make it any less effective. Maybe you'll develop a bit of spite and fight the effects, thus prolonging the procedure, but it will work all the same in the end anyway. If anything, seeing you resist is rather cute. But you'll succumb nonetheless, so, no need to be secretive.

Another obstacle he faces that others in a similar obsessive predicament do not is, well, himself. Baizhu is forced to take his own health and physical capacity into account to a degree most others never would have to give a passing thought to.

You'd think that his frailness might serve as an advantage to you — and you'd be right, sort of. It would serve as an advantage to you, were he to not account for it.

Unfortunately for you, he does account for it, and goes to great lengths — paranoid measures, even — to ensure you cannot take advantage of it. These chronic problems sometimes follow patterns and cycles, and usually have warning signs before becoming worse, so if he knows he's going to be in a weakened state, he gets much heavier on the restraints, and goes ahead with drugging you into immobility, even though you haven't done anything to deserve what is usually used as a punishment. It's also one of the few times he'll give you a very sincere apology. I know it's unpleasant, but I don't have much of a choice right now. You know it's serious from the lack of his usual warm whimsical voice of his, instead speaking in a very blunt voice laden with discomfort. You suppose you can summon a bit of pity, even if you're frustrated.

You also notice, though, that he's always insistent that he's fine and doesn't need help, even if that's blatantly untrue. The man will sound like he's coughing his lungs up for a minute straight and when you rush over with a concerned look on your face, he forces a chuckle and smiles and waves his hand dismissively. No, no, it's fine, really, that's a regular occurrence, it will die down in a minute or s— and breaks out coughing again.

He doesn't want you to see him in a state he feels looks pathetic. You figure that out eventually, given that he always stands up and goes into another room if the coughing fits get too bad, and how you can tell he's forcing himself to act as if he's not in discomfort or pain when he cares for you during his episodes of poorer condition.

It's something he's very stubborn about too. Usually he's so transparent, but even if you push him, tell him you're well aware he's not well or that you're fine and he should lay down, he continues to downplay it and insist it's not that bad. Just a bit of an ache, he says, or just a bit drowsy. He's relentless on this, no matter how much you push.

There's another unique factor to your captivity, but it doesn't have much to do with Baizhu himself.

See, there's plenty of captors or obsessed lovers you might end up with who have companions or accomplices you would meet, but no other quite so... slithery.

And few quite so cold, either. Changsheng, and the dynamic she takes in relation to the both of you, is a very odd experience.

Firstly, she is of no help to you. You weren't really sure what to expect from a literal talking snake, but you at least figured that if she possessed human thought capacity, she would perhaps possess a sense of empathy as well.

But she never brings up or even really acknowledges the circumstances of your situation. You tried once or twice, but she immediately shuts you down if the conversation is headed in that direction.

These sorts of interpersonal relationships are no business of mine. Know that I have no intention of interference.

While a bit disappointing, you did more or less know that even if she empathized, she wouldn't likely be of much help.

She still takes some getting used to. To be honest, she moves so quietly that for the first little while, she nearly gave you a heart attack on several occasions. You'll be going about some idle task, turn your gaze to look at or reach for something, only to come face-to-face with a snake in very close proximity.

AH! Oh, I, um...

What is the matter?

N-no, I just... uh...

You are at unease due to my presence?

No! No, I just didn't... see you there...

She has a bit of a sharp tongue and stern nature, and you initially do feel very uneasy, both out of not wanting to upset her as well as some primal instinct telling you that the creature that sits next to you is a dangerous one, even if your conscious mind knows better.

She does feel the need to comment on whatever you're doing, especially when trying to do tasks to help (or just to have something to do) by doing some work in the storerooms.

By what system of organization are you determining the order to place these jars in, hm?

You are not plotting anything nefarious back here by yourself, yes?

You there... these counters are slippery. I instruct you to place me on the surface over there.

At first, you feel bullied and bossed around... but over time you come to realize that despite the criticisms, she's intentionally seeking you out, whenever Baizhu is busy. In fact, whenever he goes off to a house call by himself or to take care of some task, it's usually only a matter of minutes before she shows up.

And truth be told, over time, you do bond. It's an unspoken sort of thing, something you think she might have started doing without consciously realizing she's doing it, but she begins... scaling you, climbing over and on you in the same way she does her contractual companion. The first time, you were reading over some piece of mail slid under the door when you felt a slight weight on your shoulder.

What is that? Oh, I see...

Gradually, it becomes an unspoken norm, a habit that neither of you really acknowledge out loud, but you understand it's a significant milestone in your relationship to each other, whatever that relationship may be defined as. You'll be standing around, working on whatever, when you feel the cold scales brush against your ankle... and now that cold sensation is spiraling up your leg, then your waist, and she positions herself around your shoulders just as she would Baizhu himself. Often commenting on or criticizing whatever you're doing, but sometimes just... relaxing there. She likes being on a person — humans are warm, and while she wouldn't admit it, she just sort of enjoys the company sometimes. If Baizhu is unavailable, you're the next best option. And sometimes, she's merely using you as a means of transportation, telling you to go somewhere else so she can get off, with you being able to get wherever it is faster, especially if it involves stairs.

Or sometimes, you'll be sitting down and she sees no reason to go around you to get where she's going, instead just slithering right over your lap without so much as a word, either to cross over you to get elsewhere, or to rest on you for a while. Then there was that time you were laying on the couch, trying your best to take a nap when you stiffened and nearly felt your heart stop for the umpteenth time when a cold sensation spread as she slithered her way underneath your shirt, curling up into a ball on your stomach.

It is cold outside and there is a draft. You will have to suffice for the moment.

And you also notice that, although it may feel harsh, oftentimes her criticisms and advice are genuinely helpful, either making a task significantly easier or preventing you from potentially hurting yourself in a specific process. You still can't quite let go of a bit of bitterness over her essentially being cooperative in your captivity, but you can't say you don't appreciate her.

General perverseness: how sexual of a person are they? What’s their drive like? How touchy do they get? Do they have any reservations about sexuality?

He's actually quite touchy from the start. It's one of the few things that sort of unsettles you and gives some sense of something being "off" even early on. You're pretty sure you don't know each other well enough for him to have just brushed his fingers over your arm, or to rest his hand on your shoulder, or to clasp your hand between his for a moment as he tells you he'll see to this or that that you've requested. The touches continue to grow more noticeable with time, and they're just so very perfectly lingering for a time that's long enough to be noticeable, but not long enough for you to feel like saying something is a warranted reaction. No, you'd be overreacting if you said anything, right? It's not that bad, it's only for a few seconds, so perfectly timed as if he's knowingly releasing his touch at the right second. Always right on the edge.

Even after that, once you're living with him, he's very casually touchy. He'll run his fingers back and forth over your side or back when you're sitting or lying next to each other, runs his fingers through your scalp, rest an arm over your side or shoulders.

His drive, on the other hand, depends entirely on his current physical condition. Whenever certain chronic problems are flaring up and his health takes a negative turn, as you can imagine, his sex drive also plummets, and he's in too much discomfort to do much movement anyway. Other times, with other problems flaring up, it's particularly frustrating because he does still have a sex drive, but is in too much discomfort to do much... there's some creative ways to work around that, but nonetheless, it's irksome.

He's not particularly reserved about sexuality at all, actually, under the right circumstances. Of course, if asked about his reasoning for this, he acknowledges and understands the cultural sensitivity to such things, and concurs with the topic being something you don't just randomly talk about; that is, he obviously has a firm grasp on what is and isn't appropriate in various settings and doesn't violate conventions of appropriateness. It's just that when it's alone with you, he can talk about the filthiest and most intimate of things without batting an eye or any sign of embarrassment. It's just a natural part of human life, isn't it? If anything, the act is one that should be viewed as beautiful. The poetic sort of people tend to describe it as an ultimate expression of affection between individuals, and if you ask him, that's something that should be treasured.

How forceful are they? Do they care about your willingness?

He views forcing that sort of thing as a behavior that's more or less beneath him. Barbaric, brutish, uncivilized... brute force, that is. Other measures, though, that's another matter. Things like drugs and coercion don't have quite the same vibe of brutality and inhumanity.

Regardless, though, the key factor is your experience. He's the type that can't really enjoy a sexual experience unless you're also clearly enjoying it... the catch being that you obtaining pleasures and enjoyment is not exactly the same thing as outright consent. As long as you cum, it counts as being mutually enjoyed.

He still doesn't really like the thought of having to be physically forceful though, that would make him feel brutish. He'll be sure to sedate you early on. If you're sluggish and barely moving, you can't really offer resistance in the first place... and you're more pliable to his hands, too.

And yes, he will use your pleasure against you, telling you that you clearly don't hate it all that much — just look at what you've done, he says, holding up the fingers coated in your own fluids, pressing them against your tongue, your jaw too weak to prevent him from sliding his fingers in. The mouth says one thing, the body another... but the mouth is capable of lying, the body really isn't, so it's better to trust that which he knows is being honest.

What is intimacy with them like? What sort of kinks or fetishes do they have, or would they fill?

He can't go too hard and fast... well, he sometimes does anyway, his efforts aided by adrenaline, which quickly catches up to him as soon as it's over. He's not particularly rough though, nor does he cause you pain. That's not to say he's entirely without a sadistic side — he does find himself enjoying seeing you in a state of humiliation and anticipation, he just prefers to use pleasures and intense, but not painful, sensations to do so.

Drugging

That is, of course, the one you likely anticipated the most. He's not at all shy about it. Even if you by chance had something consensual going on before being kept captive, he's very open about the desire to experiment on your body by triggering reactions to various substances.

There's a variety of different options to try, lots of combinations and records of the effects different traditional medicines have on the body. This one heightens blood flow and skin sensitivity, this one induced lactation... ah, but his personal preference is this one that gives you a buzzing, euphoric high, accompanied by a voracious appetite for pleasure and orgasms for the next hour or so. He gives you the full history of how ancients in this area used to use it for fertility ceremonial purposes back in the day, explaining it calmly while he ties your hands to the headboard, as you pant and whimper and gasp for breath underneath him. Quite nice, isn't it?

And if you're being less than compliant and agreeable, he can also go the route of sedation. Not entirely, no, he doesn't want you to be fully unconscious, nor forget any of it later. No, what he forces into your mouth makes you more... relaxed. You, after the fact and in an accusatory tone, use the word 'paralyzed,' but he insists that that's an overdramatization. Firstly, it's not the same medication he uses when he actually leaves you fully unable to move, and secondly, you can still sort of move your fingers and toes and head, your muscles are just relaxed and at ease, preventing movement of actual limbs. Your words slur, you feel dizzy and tired, yet you feel every little touch. And see, your abdominal muscles twitched when he runs his fingers over your stomach, so you still have some muscular control... Not to mention, he can still feel your insides spasming and clenching when he curls his fingers inside of you, too.

Oh, and even in general, he makes sure you take a daily dose of tea made from some cocktail of bitter herbs he put together. You're told it's a blend that boosts your metabolism and brain activity and blood circulation, so on and so on, basically like a multi-purpose medicine for overall health. Which is true, it does do all of those things. It just so happens that all of those things also are known to increase sex drive, not to mention a few of them boost hormone production. But that's just a side effect, of course.

Orgasm control

Baizhu has a very specific long-term goal in mind to train you for: getting you to cum on command. It's a fantasy he's entertained in his head quite a few times. No reason to not try to make it a reality, now that he has you here with him. The concept itself is fascinating, the idea that a largely involuntary bodily reaction can be gradually, perfectly conditioned to align with someone else's words. It's such an ultimate power trip and absolute control, the thought is intoxicating.

And of course, being as patient and dedicated as this man has already proven himself to be, you know there's no getting out of it. Hours upon hours of edging, being told not to cum because you can't without his explicitly telling you to. If you do, he pulls his hand away, ruining the orgasm itself, leaving you to whimper and whine, that much more so if, after a few failed attempts, he ends up applying an additional corporeal punishment to try and further the negative association with cumming too soon. If you're good and endure, cum when he tells you to, you'll be likewise rewarded in some way.

Over and over. It goes on for weeks, months, that you have these training sessions, until it's perfected. You yourself are almost shocked by the progress, to realize just how much your body and your subconscious has submitted — it's on one of his better health days, he has the energy and lack of any aches to be able to take you on your hands and knees from behind, and it does feel good, but you're not that close — and yet, when he pulls your upper half up, forces your back into an arch, puts his hand on your throat and tilts his head down to speak directly in your ear and tells you to in the lowest, huskiest voice you've ever heard him speak in to cum for me — and you spasm, it hits you like a punch to the gut with the way the high rushes over your body. It leaves you sputtering and shivering as you collapse onto the bed, wide-eyed in shock. Even he seems a bit surprised too, chuckling as he sees the stunned expression on your face.

Oh, that worked better than even I anticipated...

He can also use orgasms as a form of withdrawal and coercion punishments. Primarily at the times that you're immobilized. You'll begin to grow needy after a time, and that makes you far more compliant. He keeps track of how long it's been since you last got to cum, and makes sure to remind you, just so you know how long you've been missing it, and so you'll be that much more quick to crack under the desperation of need.

Instruction/Obedience

Sometimes, once you've reached a state where he's assured you'll be fairly compliant with him, he gets surprisingly passive when he comes to you for intimacy.

Physically passive, at least. Motions you over with a finger gesture, starts giving you instructions. His voice is always so charming and gentle that it's hard to call it a command, per se, but it's telling you what to do nonetheless. To take this or that off, to straddle his waist, kiss him, put it in your mouth, ride him, touch yourself, on and on as he walks you through each little motion he craves to watch with his own eyes. It gets more specific and lewd with each instruction, starting off with just take your clothes off and eventually progressing to telling you exactly how to touch yourself, rub in circles, curl your fingers, lower yourself down and take him in, roll your hips, bounce on his cock, look him in the eye when you cum, every little thing.

...Eventually, you figure out that he does this on the days where he's not feeling well enough to do the moving himself, yet is still in good enough condition that he still has a sex drive. What a clever adaptation.

Exposure

It's not something he uses often, seeing as there are other people than just the two of you in his residence, but it can make a suitable punishment whenever you're confined to one room, or when everyone else is out. There's something just endearing about seeing you all embarrassed and flustered after being forced into nudity, the way you try desperately to cover yourself with your arms, the way you get all pouty in your humiliation and refuse to look him in the eye as you demand your clothes back.

But this is your choice, he reminds you. If only you would be a bit more cooperative, that wouldn't have to be the case, but that's entirely up to you. Until then, if you want to get out of bed for any reason, you'll just have to walk around as you are. And no, he's not going anywhere. Why would he leave when he has such a nice view? He smiles when you puff your cheeks out and curl your hands into fists out of embarrassed fury. Eventually, you do have to give in, get up and go do whatever it is you need to — and you feel his eyes on you the whole time as you do. When you glare in his direction, he just tilts his head. Oh? Is something the matter?

Such a shameless pervert, you think to yourself. What's worse, you know if you say something, he'll pull some cheesy line about 'examining' you or another. Ugh.

How do they feel about pregnancy or babies? Do they want them?

He'd be a bit worried about having any biological children. One one hand, there's a lot to be gained by having something tying you to him on such a deeply emotional level, that would likely cement you in place by making running away that much harder, and suppress your will to leave to begin with, or even accelerate your attachment to him.

At the same time, he has to be realistic. Is he really in any position to be caring for children, a task requiring great stamina? There's also the possibility you could turn children against him, or something like that. And if you were to encounter some sort of gestational health problem and require medical attention, there's no telling whether or not you'd be so stubborn as to to refuse to comply out of fear he'd drug you or something, which could pose very real risks to your well-being if he couldn't get you to work with him. So as nice as the notion seems when pictured in the ideal, there's just too many risks and complications that could take place.

But, there's a solution. One that will easily provide the same psychological attachment, and thereby allow a subtle degree of manipulation.

Once he can be sure you wouldn't try to harm her or anything, he deliberately ensures you and Qiqi spend time with each other. Initially, he tells you to watch over her while she goes about her tasks, help her out a bit. She can be forgetful, you know. Regardless of your sentiment, you can't bring yourself to be cold or rude to what is ultimately, despite the circumstances, still a relatively normal little girl.

Although he does, before leaving you two alone, make sure to give you a very firm warning. Well, the words themselves aren't a a threat, but there's an edge to his tone, when he responds to you raising your eyebrows and asking if he's really allowing this.

It's quite alright. I trust you surely wouldn't try to get a child involved in anything you shouldn't.

The words admittedly do have a bite to them. Would it really be a moral wrong, for you to try and enlist her for help...? It's not like he would ever harm her, but still, you question the sort of psychological damage you'd be risking. There's an inherent feeling of wrongness when you think about putting the kid under a situation that, if you succeeded in getting her to help you, would result in a great deal of distress and confusion and even long-term psychological damage from what would ensue. And when you think about it even further, you realize with a twisting feeling in your gut that if you escaped your captor and got him locked up... what would happen to her...? It's an unpleasant thought, even if you tell yourself you'd make sure she was cared for.

Nonetheless, eventually, on one of your worst and most bitter and resentful days, in a moment of desperation, you do finally crack. It will be fine, you tell yourself. You're doing something good overall. Someone like that shouldn't be responsible for a kid in the first place, right? So if you just get her to run by the law enforcement when she's out herb-gathering...

Listen, I, uh, I need you to do something for me, okay?

Mm...? Okay...

You wait patiently as the hours pass, hoping you look like less of a nervous wreck than you are, hoping you're not actually as jittery as you feel, a whole swarm of emotions of dread and hope and anticipation swirling in your gut. You practically pounce on the poor girl when she comes back through the doors.

Did... did they say anything? Are they coming?

You're met with a blank stare, a long pause.

Uh... who...? Was I supposed to... do something...?

You're pretty sure you gave up either the third or fourth time that happened. Can't really remember which. You start to realize that the reason he seemed so unbothered by the thought of leaving you alone with her wasn't so much his trust in you as much as it was complete assurance there was never any real risk anyway. Sigh.

But you don't hold it against her. You continue watching over her and taking care of her when you can. And the most frustrating part is that you know exactly what the intent is, and yet, you also know it's working.

You find yourself caring more and more about the girl. There was that time she stumbled and fell flat on her face and before you even really processed what you were doing, you'd already rushed over across the room to get her back up. Hey, hey, are you okay...? Or the time everyone else had stepped away for a moment due to some issue or another, leaving the front of the pharmacy unmanned for just a few moments — just enough time to find some big, disgruntled-looking guy looming over the child (who admittedly didn't seem intimidated or anything, just the usual blank stare), going on about some complaint he must have found no one else present to give to, and once more, without really thinking, you found yourself rushing over, picking her up and pulling her away, holding her to your side as if to shield her, finding yourself growing immediately defensive, glaring back. The hell is wrong with you? The owner will be back in just a minute, you'll have to wait. You find yourself a bit surprised at your own sharpness of tongue.

You feel this caring, protective swell in your chest regrading her. You're not so headstrong as to deny to yourself the truth, that you know you've developed emotional attachment towards and even some maternal instinct for the child. That admittedly, you wouldn't want to leave her, and that you'd worry how she'd fare by herself without you, even if you know she was doing fine before you. And most upsettingly, you know that that was exactly what the plan was.

Maybe if it had been one-sided, then, at least you could have shaken the feeling off, but that's not the case either. You make a habit of taking some time to yourself in a specific room every day, a time in the late afternoon when there's always a rush of people coming in, leaving Baizhu himself quite busy, so you get some time to sit and read or whatever task you set yourself to. A routine quickly develops — there's a set of pattering footsteps in the hall, she pokes her head around the door to check if you're there, and quietly shuffles in and sits next to you. Silent, but present. She doesn't say or do anything, she just sits.

Not that that's the only habit that develops. It's one of those situations that progresses subtly yet quickly, so you don't really remember when each starts. You just become aware one day that each little routine or habit has been going on for some time now. That when you walk around the back of the pharmacy going about your day, there's often a little hand clinging to your skirts or pant legs, quietly walking alongside you while latching on. That when you make yourself something to snack on, you get out two plates or bowls and make two helpings of whatever it is without really thinking about it.

She doesn't usually have a lot to say, but it's always pleasant, she's not quite like the stereotypical hyperactive kid, no, she lets you do whatever you're doing and doesn't interrupt much, just seems to want to be around you.

You allow it, of course. You don't have the heart not to, even though you know you shouldn't, that you shouldn't allow the closeness and should push her away because you know it will inevitably lead to exactly what he wants.

You can still pinpoint the exact moment, though, that you knew it was already too late. Sitting there doing some idle task or another in silence when you feel weight leaning over against your side, head resting on your arm, and that soft, monotone voice.

I like having you here.

Dammit. You could physically feel that tug on your heart. If that wasn't the final nail in the coffin, nothing else could top the emotion that gave you. You resign yourself to finally acknowledging that you've already fallen for the scheme.

...Not that she's just an advantageous tool. The flip side disadvantage is that she's also a bit of a liability. He's given her the 'if you tell anyone about her, she'll have to go away forever' talk several times over, and the poor girl always widens her tired eyes and seems very distressed at that notion, but her memory is not exactly known for being that great. There was that time some law enforcement came by to ask about you, saying something about how someone claimed to have seen a young woman in this courtyard area on the night of the disappearance. When your name is spoken, the girl's eyes widen, her lips part and she's just started to raise her arm up to point to the back room and say the words 'oh, I kn—' when she's interrupted by being picked up, hand clamped over her mouth and carried out of the room—

Ah, why don't you go run along—

And unceremoniously set in the hall, the door shut behind.

...Not good for a child to hear something fearful like a disappearance, that's all. Could give her nightmares or something. Surely they understand that...?

Thankfully, the present officials do, just nodding and continuing on, seemingly not taking that as reason to suspect anything. Poor Baizhu, it's one of the few moments he actually nearly lost composure, slumping back into a chair with a heavy sigh of relief as soon as they leave. That surely did not do his heart palpitation issue any favors...

What kind of (nsfw) punishments would they use?

One of the most unbearable things is the wait and the dread. It's never immediate. He always says something to the effect of ah, I need some time to think about how to handle this..., which you come to realize is just intentionally dragging out your fearful anticipation. To say he has somewhat of a sadistic side would be a fairly accurate statement, he doesn't really want to cause you physical pain, but he does find himself enjoying watching you squirm and shudder and stiffen, consumed with anticipation, dread and fear, as well as reactions of humiliation and embarrassment. He tries to refrain to some extent, but finds himself indulging in invoking those reactions from you more often than he'd like to admit for the sake of his own perception of his self-control.

It's not particularly painful, though, so you can be grateful for that... although there is a sort of dull ache after a while. Getting the drugs into your system is the only difficult part, as you squirm too much to safely inject you, but refuse to open your mouth, so compliance is a bit of a challenge, forcing him to find some means of holding you still. From there, your body sort of does the punishing for you. It's unlike anything you've ever felt — an unbearable sensation of heat, so intense it leaves sweat rolling down your skin, leaves you panting and shivering and gasping for breath, limbs twitching as they desperately pull against the binds keeping your ankles and wrists taut against the bedposts.

He wouldn't leave you to suffer that alone, of course. Well, maybe for a short while, half an hour or so, to heighten the desperation, but after that, he's right there to help you, affectionately running his hand over the top of your head and speaking to you in a soft voice, all far too gentle to be one and the same as the person responsible for your present state of misery.

What do you need? Tell me how to help you.

You're not compliant at first, of course. You shake your head and clench your jaw and refuse to just make this so much easier on you both. It takes a little while. A little more urging and comforting, running his fingers over your thighs and sides and all the parts of your flesh just sensitive enough to earn a shudder, before you start to melt into his touch, and eventually give in, tell him what you want.

There we go. That wasn't so difficult, was it?

Not that the torment ends there, of course. Just giving in to tell him isn't enough.

But you haven't been entirely... appreciative, have you? If I do this for you, it pains me to think it will only go unrecognized like everything else I do for you. If you ask with sincerity, maybe...

Once you've swallowed your pride entirely, then, you can get some semblance of relief. Although that itself becomes torturous with time. The intensity doesn't die down, the unbearable urge is still there, yet each successive orgasm begins to become painful, each erogenous spot on your body becomes sore and hypersensitive to the touch. You loathe to admit you end up in tears by the end of it. No worry, though, he's right there to comfort you through it... and ensure you this doesn't have to happen, but you continue to choose it time and time again.

What body parts of their darling do they like the most?

Curvature. It's not really any one specific spot, per se, but he would say it counts. The degree of it doesn't really matter, whether it's slight or pronounced. He likes the way his hands feel running over curved areas like your hips and waist, thighs, shoulders. It's something he can appreciate even when his eyes are closed, late at night, just slowly running his hands over the spots and feeling the bends and dips. There's also, of course, the fact that it provides a nice sort of grip, a spot he can lock his arms or hands around and know you won't be able to pull away easily.

[theanonymousninja247]

Random Turtle HC: Raph & Anxiety

*clears throat and approaches microphone before hitting whiteboard with a ruler* A-HEM! Behold my theories peasants!

As we see expresses in the VERY 1st episode of ROTTMNT, the turtles can recognize each others signature scents and can smell fear.

Raph especially is shown briefly through the brothers dialogue to be the most aware and self conscious about said scent to the point of becoming defensive about it.

This leads me to believe that due to both natural biological olfactory senses and increased abilities due to mutation, the turtle brothers (with an advanced ability tipping to Raph due to his size and sensitivity) can actually smell the hormone cortisol.

WebMD defines cortisol as, “Your body’s main stress hormone. It works with certain parts of your brain to control your mood, motivation, and fear.”

Simply put, the turtle boys can literally smell fear.

Now I know you’re asking yourself, “Okaaaaaay cool fun fact I guess, what does that have to do anything with me?”

*takes a step back and adjust glasses with a smirk*

My dear dear fellow tumblr, allow me to share the wonders of mixing fact, madness and media all in one! *sounds of maniacal cackling can be heard*

(I wrote this with the intent to be platonic but it could be romantic if you squint long enough)

•So we've established Raph can smell fear right?

•As a protective big brother who is quite literally in fact “BIG” he knows a thing or two about getting scared

• Especially when it comes to looking out for people he cares about

•Hes been fighting baddies for his family since he was a tot! From keeping away scary dreams at night, from crushed ancient metal zombies to terrifying alien virus monsters, there ain't much he hasn't seen

•So when you join the ranks of the Mad Dogz, you immediately also get a built in prtoector

•Raphs been looking out for the little guys his whole life, what's one more?

•Not to mention you're kinda cute, so he doesn't mind sticking around a little bit closer

•But you're different than most folks, Raph notices. I mean besides the fact that you WILLING want to be friends with 4 mutant turtles of all things.

•No besides your abnormal incredible bravery in looking beyond the status quo to reach out the hand of friendship to these reckless reptiles, Raph noticed that you just kind of…smelled

•Not in a bad way or anything just…you always seemed to have a lingering scent of fear on you

•And Raph would know. Hed recognize that scent anywhere. It's a scent that ghosts every hour of every day for him. Nighttime and being alone especially.

•Raph hates being scared. He's the biggest and the oldest. He's supposed to look after his peeps! And he can't do that if he's frozen with fear all the time!

•So what does he do? Raph faces the problem head on like he always do.

•You get scared a lot. That's understandable, but Raph decides to make it his business that you don't need to be scared when he's around.

•Raph’ll protect ya

•Be prepared to have this turtle subtly (orrer not to much so because although he's a ninja he ain't exactly tactful or subtle) watching you every time you and the gang get all together

•Its not hard. You've always caught his attention for some reason or another. So looking at you is something he does without even realizing it.

•He’s looking for triggers, anything that gets that heart rate of yours spiking and that scent start to waft.

•Fidgeting hands, bouncing knees, shutting down and slinking into your hoodie, nervous chewing, pulling or playing with your hair and pacing, he's got eyes on it all.

•Once a trigger has been spotted, Raph immediately tries to locate the source

•Too many people? Suddenly you find a 6ft something giant turtle behind you, letting you know with his massive presence alone that he got your back. Literally.

•He kinda likes this position because he can see everyone that comes close enough to interact with you and everybody can see him.

•All he's got to do is narrow his eyes a little a give em a flash of that all too familiar snaggle tooth of his if he thinks someone's being mean and he gets his unspoken threat across just fine

•Not to mention you're also close enough to grab if someone he doesn't deem fit for your attention gets a little too close for his liking. But he doesn't say that part out loud.

•Scared of talking? You suddenly feel the cool tip of his massive scaely alligator tail (anatomically correct alligator tail be darned, I'm going with the fandoms HCs for this one) gently wrapping around your ankle as a physical reminder that he's right there here to support you

•Overwhelmed and the world feels like it's closing in on you? Raphs massive size is a natural battering ram that allows him to pass through thick crowds with easy. He's not afraid to help heard you into a quiet little corner away from it all

•Years of practice with Donnie allows him the experience to ask you if you're good with touch.

•If yes, you know you're going to be instantly wrapped into his arms, pulled flushed up against the worn keratin of his plastron. Raph’s always been more of “hands-on experience” kinda of guy anyway.

•Raph gives good hugs. They're firm and tight, padded with the security of arms who have been holding the weight of the world for years.

•He will rest his chin on top of your head, gently guiding your head with the motion ever so slightly so you're somehow perfectly nestled right against his heart.

•It's a loud heart, especially when you're up so close. It's actually his strongest muscle and one he's most proud of. He cares about you, so he reckons he’ll allow you the privilege of getting close to it. In more ways than one.

•Raph doesn't talk much during these special security hugs. He's never really been much good with words anyways. Raph knows sometimes the noise can be too much, but he also knows that the silence can be defeaning. So being a turtle comes with some built in perks that make up a happy medium.

•Hes got a special churr saved for special situations just like this one. It's one of the lowest and deepest ones he's capable of making. More akin to a muted growl more than anything the way it vibrates his chest as you're pressed up against it. You can feel it more than hear it and it just takes a handful of minutes listening to this bad boy before Raph can sense your fear stink slowly dissipating and your natural sweet scent can return.

•Raph can smell fear, and there's something incredibly humbling for this Atlas of a turtle to have the sweet experience of watching that scent drift away whenever he gets the privilege of being close to you like this.

•”You don't need to be scared no more, Sweet Pea. Raph’s got ya. I'm gonna be right here until you're ready to face the world again. Until then, let me just hold ya.”

Dedicated to the one and only @anobodyinabog. Sorry this took so long,but I hope your day gets better Shortcake. Please know you're always looked out for and loved ok? 🧡❤️

[esamastation]

Part forty-three of Shizuroth, aka, the SOLDIER General's Self Saving Shizun.

Ao3 link.

Previous parts: twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty, thirty-one, thirty-two, thirty-three, thirty-four, thirty-five, thirty-six, thirty-seven, thirty-eight, thirty-nine, forty, forty-one, forty-two,

-

"No, it was more like this? Legs bent more, and feet like this, yeah? I remember it because he corrected me on it, I had my foot aimed inside too much, and I wasn't in balance."

"Oh, yeah, yeah, he corrected me on that too…"

Kunsel looks between the two SOLDIERs, Second Class Keyes and Third Class Alme, both holding the same pose. "Okay, that's good, hold like that for a moment."

It had taken all his savings to buy a camera on short notice, especially one of the instant cameras, but it was well worth it. With it he managed to capture most of the Training Session second hand, photographing the other SOLDIERs doing what Sephiroth had taught them in that frantic session.

While the pictures develop, Kunsel takes out his notebook. "Okay, what did he say to you, exactly?"

The notebook is already full of quotes and lines from Sephiroth, some of them verified by other SOLDIERs word for word, others contested. The information and the pictures would soon be gathered into one easily distributable leaflet - already, most everyone he'd talked to wanted copies.

"When do you think it will be ready?" Alme asks eagerly.

"I think I got around to everyone - just James and Zadrian left," Kunsel says, adding final notes to the quotes. "They're out on a mission. I'll throw together a mock-up once I've gotten around to them."

"Let me know when, I'll proofread it for you."

"Will do," Kunsel says.

"Heads up," Keyes says. "It's the last batch."

Kunsel looks up to see the three SOLDIERs, the most recent ones to have been called into the labs, heading towards the lounge area. "Hey guys. Everything good?"

"I failed my affinity test," the youngest says while the others shrug uncomfortably. "I don't know if that's good or bad."

"Yeah," another one of them says, looking worried. "Does this mean we can't become Seconds?"

"No, no, the tests are for something else," Kunsel says reassuringly. "Some new thing they're trying. Everyone's going through them, and I don't think they will affect regular injections."

"Sunder passed the test, and he's having a time," Alme comments. "So I think you maybe got lucky."

"Oh, okay," the other Third looks a bit uneasy. "Um. I'm going to head out, I really need a shower. I'll see you guys later."

"Yeah," the quiet one agrees, and they head off together. The Third Class that spoke first waves them off but sticks around, looking worried.

Kunsel hums and glances at Alme. "What's going on with Sunder?"

"I don't know, but they've barely let him out of the labs," Alme says, a bit uncomfortable. "There are all these injections, and they want to keep him under observation for every one. Raiton and Decker are in there too."

"And a bunch of cadets," Keyes adds.

They're all quiet for a moment, uncomfortably aware of the fact that a lot of cadets are way below the usual recruitment age, because the SOLDIER program doesn't have a recruitment age, and trying for SOLDIER is an easy way to get to Infantry early.

"I guess whatever they're looking for, it's easier to get before SOLDIER Mako injections?" Keyes mutters.

"Or they just have a bigger pool of candidates," Kunsel agrees.

The youngest SOLDIER in their little circle looks confused. "Shouldn't that be a good thing? Aren't they coming up with, like, improvements to the program? Maybe the cadets will get better injections than we will."

There's another uncomfortable silence. "Maybe," Kunsel says slowly. 

The rumours of Sephiroth going all glowy before the Incident have been going through the SOLDIER floors, and it's not exactly a secret that it was something new and incredible. The fact that the Science Department is taking bigger interest in the SOLDIER program all of a sudden is without question related.

And there's the rumour of Sephiroth having been given an extra large dose of Mako just before the Incident. Everyone knows Sephiroth's Mako injections are the highest in the program. For anyone else, they'd just give them Mako Poisoning. If the Science Department is trying to recreate what happened to Sephiroth…

That's not something you can just talk about though.

"Genesis isn't happy about it," Keyes points out.

"The Crimson Commander?" the young SOLDIER asks excitedly. "Why not?"

"Well. Because. Uh." Keyes throws a helpless look at Kunsel.

"He's just worried the Science Department is getting a bit…" presumptuous and careless and injection-happy, never a good thing for the SOLDIER program, "... overzealous with their… improvements."

"Aren't improvements a good thing, though?"

Clearly the kid has never heard of the early days - when some SOLDIERs developed Mako stones in their insides. Or the ones that had to be put down. "We just hope they take some caution," Kunsel says awkwardly in face of the kid's confusion. "Mako isn't something you should throw around willy-nilly."

"... But isn't that what Shinra is all about?"

Kunsel laughs, and he's not the only one. "Ain't that the truth," Keyes says and claps the kid on the shoulder. "I gotta go get some sleep - I've got a night mission coming up. You got everything you needed, Kunsel?"

"Yeah, thanks. Good luck on your mission."

The SOLDIERs disperse, aside from the youngest, who stands there, still confused, scratching at the back of his head.

"I don't get it," the young Third Class says. "Did I say something funny?"

"Kinda," Kunsel admits with a smile. "Don't worry about it. You're pretty new, huh? Part of the last group that passed the candidate process?"

"Yeah! My name's Zack," the kid says and offers his hand. "Zack Fair. Nice to meetcha, sir!"

"Just call me Kunsel." They shake hands. "Are you getting the hang of everything alright?"

"It's been a bit weird lately, but yeah," the new Third Class says. "Mostly me and the others have been running around in the slums, taking out monsters."

That's what most Thirds do, yeah. "And how is that going?"

"Eh, I guess it's fine?" Zack shrugs. "I mean, we were given swords and stuff, and it's not like the beasties down there are much of a challenge. I come from Gongaga, and lemme tell you - after Touch Mes, everything else is easy."

Kunsel blinks at that declaration and then snorts. "Touch Mes - you mean the… frogs?"

Zack gives him a disgruntled look. "You don't know what they do, do you?"

"Well, I've heard about them…"

"They put you to sleep and then you wake up as a frog," Zack says. "They are a menace and the worst thing you will ever fight."

Kunsel laughs. "I guess you're well prepared for SOLDIER then, having already gone through the worst."

Zack grins and then gives him a curious look. "So, uh, why were you taking pictures before? Was it for some kind of magazine?"

Kunsel looks down at his notebook. The pictures have finished developing, showing Alme and Keyes striking poses. "Kinda - it's for a tutorial I'm putting together. You wanna take a look?"

-

Ducklings and a puppy

[angelpassing-by]

TODAY WON'T BE THE END.

Pairing: Wriothesley x reader Genre: angst, comfort. Your boyfriend Wriothesley finds you during a depressive episode, after self harming, and comforts you. Modern AU. Tw: self harm, suicide talk, not graphic mention of injuries and blades, self harm scars. A/N: English is not my first language, this is my first ever time triying to write fanfiction. Basicaly, I've been struggling for some time now and craving some sh comfort comfort, which is quite difficult to come across. So I decided to write my own with my current comfort character.

It is quite late when Wriothesley sets a foot in your shared apartment. The soft tick-tack of the kitchen clock being the only thing to greet him. Normally you would greet him every night, lazily hugging him in your pajamas. Today, however, there's no sign of your presence in the home. Hopping to find you in the bedroom he makes his way through the corridor, trying his best not to wake you up with his heavy steps.

To his surprise, the bed is untouched and some quiet sniffles can be heard coming from the other side of the bathroom door.

"Dear?" his knocks on the door make you panic even more, fumbling with the first aid kit and the supplies scattered around it in the tile floor.

"Are you okay?" he heard no response but some metallic clatter on the other side as you managed to fit your blades back into their hidden box.

He had seen your scars, kissed them, touched them. To his eyes they were just another part of you, whom he lovingly adored, not taking away any of your beauty despite your self-deprecating talk about them. But that also meant he was aware of what those scars implied, he had even seen some of them heal, help you bandage them.

"I'm coming in." Without waiting for your response he gently pushes the door open.

Wriothesley's heart breaks when he seen your sobbing form on the floor, surrounded by bloodied papers and crimson stains. He kneels beside you, taking your face into his hands.

"What happened love?" but you can only cry harder and mumble gibberishly under your breath.

Wrio then takes your arm, handling it with much more care than you've ever had for your own body. He inspects the fresh cuts as you look at him through soaked lashes. The sanitary alcohol stings badly but you barely notice it and the bandages he wraps around your forearm feel soft and warm, a parody of a hug somehow.

After being appropriately patched up, Wrio opens his arms, about to hug you.

"No,No!" you hastily exclaim with a broken voice. "You'll get you clothes dirty." He chuckles and wraps you in his strong arms, trapping you in his warm body - safety.

"Do you what to tell me what happened?" he asks cautiously, after braking your embrace, whipping you tears away with his thumbs.

"I don't think-- I- can" you stumble with your words "-- you know - this- do this."

"This?"

"Life." you whisper.

"Oh" the implications of your words take some time to register, but when they do, he engulfs you in his arms again, perhaps hopping that you don't notice the stray tear that rolls down his cheek.

Time goes by incredibly slow until he grabs your face again and locks his eyes with yours. "I know you can, I know you will do this" Wrio's words are barely loud enough to be heard.

"I'm scared -- I - don't know what to do, I know nothing, I feel so lost". The tears, gone and dry in your face, return, and you hate yourself for letting them pour again.

"I know, love. It's so difficult to know what the future holds. I don't think anybody out there knows exactly how to do life. But hear me out, you are not alone in this, you've got me, you've got your friends, your family. You don't have to figure life alone. Fuck, you don't even need to figure it out at all." His expression softens when you giggle at his last words. "love, you don't have to know how to do life, and if you feel uncertain again, know for a fact that I've got you."

"No matter what?"

"No matter what" he responds placing a kiss on your forehead.

[syrena-del-mar]

Very Rarely Do Men Know How to Be Altogether Good or Altogether Wicked

The last five minutes of today's episode left my mouth gaping, it really felt like I was watching a catastrophic accident happen in front of me and I just couldn't look away.

I wasn't completely sure on how Sand was going to learn about Ray and Mew's history, but I sure wasn't expecting that Ray's feelings would be exposed in such a volatile way. Maybe I’m in the minority here, I’m not exactly sure because I’m seeing a mixed bag of reactions, but I don’t necessarily agree that Sand ever needed to find out about Ray’s feelings for Mew. Much less from Boston.

This is partially going to be a bit of a continuation of my thoughts that Boston has a Machiavellian personality, followed up with SandRay's relationship becoming the unsuspecting 'victim'. Again, I'll be using pulling from Machiavelli's The Prince, but I'm also using his work Discourses on Livy. [Title credit to ch. 27 of Discourses]

Boston, still the Machiavellian 'Prince'

“Another difficulty to be added to the one mentioned above is that a state that becomes free creates for itself enemies rather than friends.”

― Niccolò Machiavelli, Discourses on Livy

Let me be upfront, I don't hate Boston, I actually enjoy the chaos he brings, but he's a fascinating character to break down and really analyze his actions. The last five minutes was, in my opinion, the most chaos that he has caused out in the open. This was never a situation of Boston 'saying what needed to be said.' This was Boston seeing an opportunity to take control of someone and doing so by unfairly outing Ray's feelings. I, again, stand by the idea that Boston is not a narcissist, but rather a Machiavellian personality type. This doesn't make him a 'villain'; Only Friends does a good job at showing that there are no villains in real life, just incredibly shitty people. Boston is simply a dick, who chooses to play with his friends to feel a sense of control when he doesn't have it. Has he ever cared for his friends? Does he keep them around simply for convenience? Hard to say. That doesn't make him evil, it just makes him a first-class jackass.

In my post where I had stated that he was more of a Machiavellian rather than narcissist, I came to the conclusion that, 'In his viewpoint, he is the kingpin, even in his group of friends, because he believes that he's the one that controls how his friends move since he knows how Mew is developing feelings for Top and is aware of Ray's feelings for Mew.' This time around, he practically admits it right after purposefully revealing Ray's feelings for Mew, "I just want to keep track of my best friends' romantic moments.' Boston hoards information so that he can throw it in people's faces when it fits him the best, there's no 'good intentions' on his keeping tabs on his friends.

Boston knows that TopMew are going to sleep together, they're serious and he's out of the running. Is it simply ego or is it because of self-interest? Whatever the catalyst is, he essentially has nothing holding him back anymore. He's seeing his "friends" getting "serious", while he's out there dealing with known (and unknown) filming of one-night stands he had being used as revenge porn. That'd hurt and anger anyone, but from what has been shown, Boston thrives off of control and so having his sex life used against him would feel like an even bigger blow. They're minor events that are snowballing and Boston likely needs to feel that control again. It's why he pushes Nick down without a second thought when Nick is trying to pull him away (opposed to how Ray lets Sand pull him back). So he claims that control back, he deliberately reveals what he knows, purposefully taking Ray down with him. While he may be feeling like shit, at least he'll be better off than Ray, who's left to pick up the pieces.

Sand and Ray, the intentional destruction of the 'kingdom'

“In general you must either pamper people or destroy them; harm them just a little and they’ll hit back; harm them seriously and they won’t be able to. So if you’re going to do people harm, make sure you needn’t worry about their reaction.” ― Niccolò Machiavelli, The Prince

Yes, Sand and Ray are in a “situationship.” Yes, they’re constantly getting both physically and emotionally closer. Yes, Sand is developing feelings for Ray (arguably vice versa too). But that’s it. They started off as friends with benefits and while they’ve been shifting around, neither one has fully crossed that line. There was no defined area in the relationship, at least not before the implosion. They’re barely getting to know each other, Sand even calls Ray out because he knew that Ray had never noticed him before, not in a way other than just the Bar Performer.

Ray is working through who he is without Mew, without his crush on Mew. He's come to the realization that while he put Mew as his #1 for many years, he's knows he's not that for Mew, and is slowly coming to the realization that he may have never been. These are his feelings to work out and his alone. Sand and Ray are first and foremost friends, as they had agreed upon and they happen to hook up often. This was what they agreed upon. Even if one or both of them are catching feelings, it does not mean that Ray has an automatic obligation to come clean to Sand.

Arguably, Boston was unaware of this set up, but honestly he didn't need to know. This was not his business, Boston didn't suddenly spill the fact that Ray has had feelings for Mew for years to look out for Sand. No, this was an intentional hit on Ray, where he was positive that it would hurt. Boston has repeatedly used Ray's feelings for Mew for his own convenience (Exhibit A: Meddling at the pool party), whether it be to get Ray to react in a certain way or to have a punching bag. He knew how defensive and reactive Ray would get when he brought up RayMew's kiss and supposed sex (was this ever confirmed?) that they had.

Boston speaks in definite presumptions when he talks about others, he does this to Top and he did it to Ray. He spins realities to how he sees fit and with the confidence that he speaks in, he makes others believe him. It's why Mew never questioned that Top is accustomed to sleeping around and didn't think that Top really wanted anything more than sex, because that's what Boston specifically told him that Top was like. It's why now Sand believes that he has no hour in Ray's life, even when Ray gives him the opening to ask more, because Boston purposefully spoke in definite terms. Even the most secure person would be left feeling unsure and unbalanced.

So when Sand, who knows that their relationship is based on being friends with benefits, is confronted with words from Ray's supposed friend who explicitly states that Ray is in love with Mew and that he's being used as a rebound, what else can he do but believe that?

What little trust and rapport that they had started to build up has come crumbling down. They're frantically gathering the pieces of a 'kingdom' that has been turn into dust, the aftermath of the Prince's wrath. It's why Ray scrambles for the bottle and it's why Sand shuts down. How can they react to what Boston did, when they're struggling to salvage the little remnants left behind of what was supposed to be a blossoming relationship?

[magicdyke]

I wish that a lot of analysis of teru and mob weren't done within the confines of shipping them together, as it's distracting from the narrative about tsubomi driving mob's motivations overall; in all honesty i find it boring and uncreative to rip these characters of their context and feed a limited analysis of this series for the sake of temporary emotional satisfaction. I find it frustrating, because the entire series is spun around mob's adolescence and ultimately his ability to express and accept himself and his emotions, and overcome the fears he has built up regarding those things. Tsubomi is what sparks his entire character arc-- she's a huge part of the motivation he gets to improve himself every single day. He sees her and trusts her despite her initial impression to most people being that she's a jerk, because he understands and knows in his heart that she's strong-willed and focused. He admires her so greatly for her ability to live exactly as who she is and get what she wants from the world, and she represents every single thing that mob wants to become (something i feel is very transgender of him but i wont go into that right now). Mob's ENTIRE arc is centered around this one massive presence in his life that he's built up so so much, but because tsubomi is a female love interest, she is often disregarded in exchange for the gay ship of the week. She's an endlessly fascinating and unique character, and everything that he does to try and reach her is done of his own volition to better himself. Eventually he learns that pursuing a single person as the sole reason of self improvement isn't good for him, but she is the person that sparks his desire to get better and is the critical motivator of the series. However, I think that a lot of the same things can be said equally about teru. Personally i am of the opinion that teru is equally in love with mob as mob is tsubomi, and their motivations are the exact same. Mob to teru is someone that is unrelentingly kind, loved for who he is, a hard worker, very morally upright, and able to rely on others as they do them. Mob is everything that teru wants to be, and of course he admires that so deeply to the point of close obsession. All of this is so incredibly relatable to the experience of being a middle schooler: first loves (whether romantic or otherwise) are ones that completely change us as people. they form us into the beginning of ourselves, they're our first understandings of our interpersonal relationships and a very big foray into self awareness. Teru is so suddenly captured and affected by mob in a way that rocks him to his core. Of course mob becomes someone for whom he must chase after.

To take either of these ideas and start shipping them together, though, i find it kind of missing the point. romantic love is not always requited, and there's nothing you can really do about that except put in your best effort to be better for yourself and others around you, and keep moving forward with your life. Mob was never supposed to get the girl; it was supposed to show us that, no matter what hardships you will endure in your life interpersonally, there will always be people that love you to help you recover from them. You can always change and grow.

[angstyantoinette]

Yandere alucard please with a fairy darling?

wrote this while in college and severely sleep deprived :))

to the anon that requested this…very sorry for the delay ^^

Yandere! Alucard x GN Fairy Darling

As a Dhamphir, Alucard has a very confused and conflicted view of his own humanity; how his parent’s’ marriage shaped his life and beliefs, which is evident in his own personal experience in the story.

He is part human, “part monster” (as he puts it), and constantly uses both of his sides to try and compensate for his perceived weaknesses and strengths in order to create a balance.

This obsession with balancing his own personal interests, with the ones that he deems unsafe or safe to everyone else years him apart, and Alucard just doesn’t see the point in continuing his act of doing ‘the right thing’- he has nobody to do it for other than himself and the times that Sypha and Trevor come for a visit.

They keep him grounded, his dear friends and comrades; they help him remember the good times and deeds he has given to the world, to the people who were so close to losing their lives. They help him remember and remain alive in the memories of his sacrifices and pains that he had to overcome to murder his own father- the only one left from his childhood. A time that was idyllic, but secluded, kept away from the world and the rest of the scum that had stolen his mothers life.

Things are getting better, that’s what he thinks, as he sweeps through the rubble of his childhood home, it’s sloping walls and crumbling tapestries serving as a testament to a life long past that he can move on from. Things are getting much more complicated, as he tries to sort though the rubble and the familial ruin.

Alucard tries to move past his hurt and past betrayals, but they somehow always come back to bite at him some more, gnaw at his memories of his childhood and turn them into something beyond his control, beyond his pained comprehension.

It doesn't help much that much of the memorials of his past betrayals lay outside of the castle walls, staring out into the vast woods that surround him; and this isolation is a huge part of precisely why he becomes so attached to his darling.

However you meet each other, whichever way that you sweep into Alucard's life you just may as well be signing yourself away to the devil himself-a fitting analogy given the context of the story.

Alucard himself doesn’t mean to cause harm, not in any sense of the word. Everything that he says, does and thinks is the complete opposite, but while he may not be obviously setting out to cause you harm as a person…it doesn’t mean he realises his actions aren’t always right. He may even be self-aware of that fact, and be greatly pained and paranoid about how he makes you feel.

He doesn’t like the fact that he feels this urge to lock you up in his miserable, spindly castle, keep you and your fairy goodness all to himself. He knows it’s selfish, he knows it disgusting of him and yet he reasons and battle and negotiates with himself to try and justify his feelings and actions towards you.

You can beg, you can plead, you can sob and cry but whatever you do will not save you from this fate. You belong to Alucard, and he loves you so deeply, so dangerously that it makes the both of you feel sick. Unfortunately, it doesn’t make him feel sick enough for him to let you go. Let’s face it, who else will love you like he does?

He doesn’t exactly know how to love you right, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t adore you enough to know that you need to be kept away from the rest of the world. You need to rest, to stay with him whilst he admires your beautiful face, your spectral wings and their incredible patterns and own beauty that can only be described as otherworldly.

His kisses are always so desperate. Like he has never tasted anything like your fear Love before. Alucard knows that you get a bit nervous sometimes, but that’s just because you’re shy, isn’t it? He knows exactly what that’s like, the gut-twisting and the rampant heartbeats that he feels.

He’s probably one of the better yanderes to have, in all likelihood, but Alucard isn’t without his flaws, not in the least. He’s paranoid, deathly. He almost trembles at the idea of you getting out of your room to eat something, as he is insistent in bringing it to you. Just so he can double check those windows again.

And you sit sadly on the bed, in all of your finery and wondrous glory, trying your hardest not to sob as your blonde captor strokes your head and whispers his love for you until the moon is high in the sky and you can hear the birds coo outside. Your pointed ears twitch in tired anticipation, silently begging for the birds to come back, help you out of this nightmare.

The birds keep cooing and each night they get further away. They do not come back to help. You are stuck here, with him, forever.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

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[okjeno]

𝐇𝐔𝐒𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐃𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐒 | 𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐉𝐄𝐍𝐎

› 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐋𝐞𝐞 𝐉𝐞𝐧𝐨 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

› 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟, 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭, 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭; 𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝!𝐉𝐞𝐧𝐨, 𝐂𝐄𝐎!𝐉𝐞𝐧𝐨

› 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟓.𝟔𝐤

› 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐝𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐱/𝐢𝐞𝐭𝐲, 𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭 𝐝𝐨𝐦!𝐉𝐞𝐧𝐨, 𝐩𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩, 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭/𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐝𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐚/𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦/𝐩𝐢𝐞, 𝐜𝐡𝐨/𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐝𝐚𝐝/𝐝𝐲 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤

› 𝐀/𝐍: 𝐇𝐞𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐬! 𝐈 𝐚𝐦 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐩𝐨𝐩 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐜𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐦𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐮𝐲𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭. 𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐢𝐝. 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠.

↳ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐬 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡...

“Hyung, stop putting me on speaker, I’m tired of listening to Jaemin’s fucking whining!”, your husband’s loud voice cuts through the quietness in your shared home, making your ears perk up in anticipation.

You patiently stay seated on the couch, not knowing if he’s even aware of your presence as he bursts into laughter and sends tiny jolts of warmth right into your chest to remind you just how much you‘ve missed him.

It’s been so long; way too long for your personal liking.

However, none of this has come as a surprise to you, because after all, you knew what to expect as his wife.

This is the Lee Jeno you fell in love with in your second year of High School.

Hard working, ambitious, disciplined, organized and always the one to get exactly what he wants and who knows how to get it.

Most of these being actual reasons why you fell in love with him in the first place.

And at this point you’ve lost count on how many times his attitude and general lifestyle has helped you to get your shit together and become the person you are today. Throughout the years, both of you have constantly been working towards the best versions of yourselves and while Jeno would have done it anyway, you would have probably given up halfway through the journey.

It was him. It’s always been him.

No matter how many times all those dark thoughts and doubts have gotten to you, Jeno was always the one to help you fight them. So many nights spent in each other’s arms, blocking out the world and just focusing on the feeling of complete security and acceptance around you before he built you up again and put you back onto your feet.

The older you get, the worse your states of anxiety have become and although you've been dealing with it a lot better than before, you still struggle to shut it down completely on your own, especially with the fear of losing the one person who never once failed to pull you out of it.

Which is why, you couldn’t help but imagine the worst when people used to warn you of possible changes which might come with being married.

Despite taking notice of your overreaction and your anxiety taking over you again, you still found yourself distancing yourself from your husband.

You developed distance as a self defense mechanism in your youth to avoid any further heartbreak by the opposite party doing it first and even after all these years of being with him, basically knowing him like the back of your hand and trusting him with your whole heart, you still let those doubts and fears get to you.

It’s not like Jeno has changed since the two of you have gotten married almost two years ago. He’s still the loving, caring and incredibly understanding man you fell for all those years ago.

But recently he’s been spending a lot more time at work; leaving early in the morning and coming home way later than usual – you barely get the chance to look at his face in daylight anymore.

And of course, the sudden change in his working pattern turned out to be ideal for your anxiety to feed off of.

Because the less you’re seeing him, the less time he spends at home, the deeper you fall into this dark hole and for the first time in years you can’t get yourself to see the light at the end of the tunnel.

However, you’ve had enough.

You miss your husband, physically and mentally craving his presence, his touch, his words and although it’s taking you every bit of energy and self control, you manage to push those anxious thoughts all the way to the back of your head and keep the focus on the real issue.

By the time you’re done nervously staring at your hands, Jeno has already made his way through the hallway and is still busy listening to Mark on the phone; his ring clad fingers tightly wrapped around a glass of whiskey when he eventually discovers you.

“Baby, you‘re still up”, he says, perfect brows arched in surprise before he lifts a finger to stop you from responding, “I’ll call you tomorrow, Hyung. Have a good one”, your husband quickly ends the call and places his phone on the dinner table before he approaches you with a soft smile on his handsome face.

You inhale shakily, taking in the sight of him after not having the chance to for so long and the longer you look at him, the worse the urge to burst into tears becomes.

“My love”, he whispers softly, a genuine, yet exhausted smile placed on his pretty face as he comes to sit down next to you on the big couch, “you shouldn‘t have stayed up for me, baby, it‘s so late!”, he chuckles gratefully and places one of his big hands on your cheek.

His eyes start roaming your face attentively, the way they always do, to see if he can read your mood through your facial expressions. You move even further into his warm touch, your body so starved, you feel yourself growing aroused from something as simple as the feeling of his thumb caressing your cheek.

Of course it‘s not just that, but also his familiar scent, a mixture of his rather spicy yet comforting cologne and a hint of vanilla, as well as the warmth he‘s radiating most of the time.

Your lids flutter shut when his thumb moves to your chin and down your throat, a couple of his fingers now softly grazing your shoulders which are on full display because of the camisole you are wearing. The cold metal of his rings sends shivers down your spine and at the thought of having one of those pretty hands firmly buried in between your legs, you can‘t help but press your thighs together and let out a soft sigh.

“I missed those pretty sounds”, Jeno whispers, his voice a lot deeper, raspier and more strained than just a moment ago and you can‘t believe how just that tiny change has your pussy clenching even more desperately.

You slowly open your eyes, bottom lip firmly pulled between your teeth and heart almost brutally slamming against your rib cage.

“Is that why you stayed up, pretty one? You want me to fuck you? Have you grown that needy yet?”, your husband chuckles softly, excitement gleaming in his pretty eyes and if it wasn‘t for his words, you would have lost yourself in their familiarity.

“But I can‘t and won‘t blame you because I feel the exact same. It‘s been way too long”, he suddenly whispers, placing his glass on the little table next to the couch before he takes off his expensive watch and gets rid of his tie; his gaze never once leaving your needy one. You know he‘s enjoying the way you‘re practically squirming underneath him, whereas you struggle to care about how desperate you are for him.

“You‘re so quiet, baby, is everything alright?”Jeno says with worry swinging in his tone, eyes focusing the way you are busy pulling on your fingers and basically serving your nervousness on a silver plate.

A deep sigh leaves your lips when you realize that there‘s no point in even trying to hide what‘s bothering you, not when you have a husband as attentive and careful as Lee Jeno.

“I miss you, Jeno”, you whisper and finally get yourself to lift your head and actually look at him, forcing yourself to maintain eye contact despite the thick veil of tears covering your sight.

“Oh, baby, I–”, “It‘s just...you work so much and on your days off you go and spend time with your boys and I can‘t help but feel like you‘re purposely avoiding me, even if you are this sweet to me. I know I don‘t have the right to feel this way because you’re pouring everything into your work and don‘t get me wrong, that‘s one of the reasons I‘m so in love with you, but it‘s been so, so long since we just had a whole day to ourselves. Just the two of us lazing around, watching trashy movies and fucking every now and then, like we used to do”, the words just keep coming, your chest growing lighter and lighter the more you speak and despite the volume of your heart literally thrumming inside your throat, you can‘t help but feel relieved.

Jeno never once stops looking at you, his hands firmly wrapped around yours as he listens to your every word.

“Jeno, we haven‘t had sex in a month”, you say and gulp harshly, “and in the beginning, I didn‘t really care because I know just how exhausting and tiring work is for you. But then I came to visit you in your office and saw the women you were surrounded by and ever since that I can‘t stop myself from thinking that maybe that‘s why you refuse to touch me”, your voice breaks at the end of your sentence, followed by two thick tears streaming down your cheeks and a little sob falling past your lips.

You don‘t want to cry; you weren’t planning on doing so, but the pain and heaviness of not being enough for someone as perfect as Jeno comes crashing down on you a lot faster than you expected it to.

“And that‘s okay!”, you suddenly say and lift your hands up to show him how okay you are with it as you nervously wipe away your tears. “My body has changed a lot ever since we first got together and we‘ve been with each other for so long, I won't ever blame you for actually leaving me to find someone else, seriously”, your words are raw, they‘re everything you‘ve been worrying about but they‘re also nothing but the truth.

Lee Jeno is way out of your league; always has been and always will be.

In all those years you‘ve been with him, he‘s only grown taller, muscles even stronger, face even sharper. Whereas you‘ve been struggling to get to the point where you feel absolutely satisfied with yourself.

Usually you manage to ignore those self-destructive and criticizing thoughts, mostly because Jeno has ever failed to make you feel good about yourself. But in the past few weeks, you haven‘t even had the motivation to put on your favorite lingerie to send your husband some teasing pictures the way you like to. The thought of annoying him or actually turning him off with the sight of yourself hadn‘t left you alone so you opted to hate yourself instead.

“My love…”, Jeno sighs and tilts his head back with a soft sigh before he places his hands on your waist and makes you straddle his lap.

You‘re quick to wrap your arms around his shoulders and push your face into the crook of his neck. This type of intimacy is the one you‘ve been craving the most: holding and being held by him. Slowly, but surely you feel yourself calming down and it doesn‘t take long for your cries to die down.

His warmth, scent, presence and soft touches build the perfect wall of security, comfort and protection you‘ve been trying to create for the past few weeks, yet have failed miserably every single time.

“Thank you for talking to me about this instead of bottling it up even more”, he begins, the deep bass of his voice sending vibrations through your chest, “I‘m sorry for making you feel this way. I really am. For me, you’ve always been so perfect and that won’t ever change. To think that you think this way actually breaks my heart and I promise I will try my best to make you feel more loved and appreciated just as I used to.”, Jeno whispers, his hands softly roaming your body and in combination with his warm body so close to yours, you calm down completely.

“It‘s just been really stressful at work and I didn‘t want to burden you with it because I know how much you worry about me. I love my job, after all i get to do what I love and work with my best friends but I‘ve been neglecting you and that was and will always be the one thing I want to avoid, no matter how busy I get”, Jeno‘s words are genuine, they‘re sincere and they‘re everything you wanted to hear.

“I don‘t want you to feel obligated to spend time with me, Jeno”, you reply and tilt your head to the side, your fingers grazing his pretty features softly, enjoying the familiarity of his gaze.

“Obligated? Baby, you‘re my wife. We‘re supposed to be there for each other and I‘ve promised to make you happy no matter what, and you know I always keep my promises”, Jeno replies and presses a soft kiss against your lips, his tight grip on your waist builds the sweetest contrast to it and easily leaves you longing for more.

“It’s been so long, all I‘ve been daydreaming about was you”, he breathes, sending shivers down your spine and with a soft whine, you bury your fingers in his thick hair, “the amount of times I‘ve fucked my fist to the thought of you is embarrassing, but I couldn‘t help it”, you gulp harshly at his lewd words, the mental image of your husband jerking off to you while you had convinced yourself he wasn’t as attracted to you anymore, definitely manages to boost your ego in just the right way..

You feel yourself growing hotter, the temperature in the room almost suffocating you and suddenly the thin camisole feels as heavy as a thick winter coat.

Jeno lets out a soft grunt at the way you start pulling at his hair, his hands now anxiously groping the soft flesh of your thighs as he desperately tries to pull you even closer to his body. He starts littering your neck in open mouthed kisses, his hot breath fanning against your sensitive skin before he thrusts his hips up and elicits the sweetest moan from your throat just like that.

Usually you would have been embarrassed by the wet patch on your panties, especially because he hasn’t even done anything yet, but this time you can’t get yourself to care; arousal clouding your mind in a way you’ve missed it oh, so much.

“Baby…”, Jeno groans, throwing his head back with a deep moan when you start circling your hips against the growing bulge in his pants, the friction giving your neglected clit just what it needs.

“Feels so good”, you whimper, pulling at his hair even more and losing yourself in the pleasure as soon as your husband meets the movements of your hips with lazy thrusts of his own.

“Look at my slutty little angel girl”, he sighs, his voice even raspier than before and if it wasn’t for the way he’s finally decided to pay some attention to your breasts, you would have lost your mind, “you’re so desperate and needy for my cock, hm? Just because you haven’t gotten your cunt fucked in a hot minute? How pathetic…”, the sound of those dirty words falling past his plump lips have you whining out loud almost shamelessly; after literal weeks of not hearing them, you can’t and won’t even try to deny just how much they get to you.

“Just for you”, you breathe against his mouth, pulling the flesh of his bottom lip into your mouth and sucking at it softly; Jeno rewarding you with a deep grunt as he guides your hips to move your needy cunt over the whole of his clothed cock.

“Of course it’s just for me, baby”, Jeno replies and pushes your camisole over your barely covered ass, kneading the soft flesh harshly before he lands a harsh spank on your left cheek; the beautiful combination of pain and pleasure pushing you even further into the thick haze of lust.

“I own this fucking cunt after all ”, he whispers into your ear, pulling the lobe between his teeth, “it’s all mine to use and fuck as I please. Only I get to stuff this tight pussy of yours full of my cum. Am I right, baby?”

You start nodding like crazy, your fingers nervously fumbling with the buttons of his dress shirt as the sudden need to feel his skin underneath yours overwhelms you.

“Cat got your tongue, pretty girl?”, Jeno suddenly hisses and wraps his ring clad fingers around your throat, pulling your attention back to his face within a moment and as if the feeling of his tight grip wasn’t enough, he continues to roll his hips into yours, pushing the tip against your throbbing clit with every single movement.

“Yes, you’re right”, you whisper, your eyes lazily taking in the sigh of your husband’s flushed cheeks and bit swollen lips; his strong gaze fixating you like his life depends on it.

“There we go, good girl”, he smiles and softly pushes you from his lap and the sudden lack of pressure on your clit makes you whimper desperately. In fear of any form of distance, you take the fabric of his dress shirt into your palm, gripping it tightly as you look at him with teary eyes.

“Jeno…”, Jeno looks at you with his brows arched in surprise, obviously not expecting this kind of reaction from you and at the sight of your quivering bottom lip, he can’t help but let out a soft chuckle.

“I’m here, baby. Don’t worry, I’m going to fuck your little pussy the whole night and make you cum as much as you want, okay? But I have to take my clothes off first and while I do that, you can prepare that tight cunt of yours for my cock, hm?”, your husband says softly, his hand caressing your naked thigh before he stands up to get himself undressed.

You let out a shaky sigh, your panties already sticking to the wet flesh of your cunt to the point of discomfort and for the first time ever since your first time (with Jeno), you find yourself hesitating to get naked in front of your husband.

After weeks of struggling to like the person in the mirror until you eventually stopped looking at yourself completely, the thought of showing yourself off to the man you are so in love with, seems more than just scary.

And of course, Jeno is quick to notice; almost instantly halting his movements as he watches you fumble with the hem of your camisole.

“You don’t have to take it off, baby”, he says and shrugs off his dress shirt to reveal his strong torso to your hungry eyes, the dark lines of his tattoos building the most beautiful sight in contrast to his pale skin.

“I fucking love your body. Every mark, every scar, every single thing you hate about yourself. You’re perfect to me, my love, please don’t ever forget that”, you gulp harshly, the genuine tone in his voice taking away some of the heaviness on your chest and you feel tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, “and I’m sorry that I haven’t been there for you. But before everything, I want you to feel comfortable with me, okay?”

With a soft sigh and an appreciative smile, you start nodding, a single tear running down your cheek as you enjoy the hungry gaze of your husband roaming your body.

You manage to get a grip of yourself a moment later, pulling your ruined panties down your legs and handing them to Jeno as if it was the most normal thing to do. And for you – it kind of is.

Ever since the two of you had first started getting intimate with each other, Jeno had always asked for your underwear, shamelessly pressing the crotch to his nose to inhale the scent of your arousal.

“Come on, pretty girl, you know I won’t fuck you if you don’t prepare yourself first”, Jeno mumbles and fumbles with his belt, staring at you with hooded eyes and an almost devilish smirk on his lips.

A shiver runs down your spine as you pull down the straps of your camisole with shaking fingers, pushing the fabric down until you finally expose your naked chest to your husband’s prying gaze. You watch the way he stops what he’s doing as he waits for you to do what he’s asked you to do and with another shaky inhale, you let your hand wander in between your spread legs.

“You’re afucking mess, pretty one”, Jeno remarks, finally pushing his pants down his thick thighs, “can’t wait to fill that tight pussy up to the brim with my fat cock. You better stretch yourself, baby, Daddy’s not going to go easy on you tonight.”

And as soon as those words leave his lips, you plunge one one of your fingers into your wet hole, a soft moan escaping your throat at the feeling of your digit dragging along your sensitive walls. Only a couple of pumps later, you add another one; your whole body craving the feeling of being filled until you can’t breathe and after having to use your fingers to get yourself off for so long, you can’t wait to finally get what you’ve been wanting so badly.

With almost practiced flicks of your wrist, you manage to hit all the right places as you rub your clit against the palm of your hand, pushing yourself closer to your orgasm and easily blending out the presence of your husband. A row of soft moans leaves you, the feeling of your fingers just slightly grazing that sweet spot deep inside of you has you arching your back desperately.

“Baby”, Jeno’s deep voice pulls you out of your dazing haze of arousal, “I told you to stretch yourself out, not make yourself cum”, he hisses, pulling your fingers out of your clenching core before he holds your hand up for both of you to see the amount of juices covering your digits.

“I’m sorry, Daddy”, you whimper and gulp harshly, trying your best not to press your thighs together when Jeno wraps his tongue around your fingers and starts lapping up your arousal.

“Fuck”, he moans loudly, pushing your legs apart even further before his gaze drops to your glistening cunt, “I want to eat that pretty pussy of yours so badly, baby”, Jeno whispers, his nails digging into the skin of your thighs before he moves one of his hands up to grope your breast, harshly pulling at your perky nipple.

“No!!”, you whine and sit up, wrapping your fingers around his wrist and staring at him with another pout on your lips, “can you please fuck me first? Need you to stuff me with your cock”, you add, moving your hand up to palm his rock hard erection through the fabric of his boxer briefs, of course taking the opportunity to caress the warm skin of his torso.

But instead of replying, Jeno just scoffs, pushing your hands away from his body before he wordlessly makes you lay back down on your back again, his ice cold gaze making you whimper in anticipation. Despite watching him lift his hand, you can’t hold back the loud yelp when he suddenly lands a harsh spank on your cunt, followed by a second and a third one; the delicious sting sending tears into your ears and eliciting a row of high pitched moans from you as the throbbing of your clit intensifies.

“Oh, angel girl”, he groans and – finally – pushes his fingers underneath the waistband of his boxer briefs, “we both know if it hadn’t been this long, I would have made you ride my face for hours, so you better be grateful Daddy’s just as needy as you tonight…”, you let out a sigh of relief, followed by a gasp when your husband slowly pulls his underwear down his thighs, his thick cock slapping against his abs and almost instantly making you whimper.

“Patience, my love”, Jeno mumbles before he gets comfortable between your legs and then starts teasing your needy clit with the wet tip of his hard length.

“Ready, baby?", he whispers against your lips, giving you one last kiss on the lips before he slowly pushes into you; the slick sounds of your walls taking him in the only thing you hear before Jeno’s loud moan fills your ears.

"Fuck, you're always so fucking tight, no matter how many times I fuck you", he hisses through gritted teeth, giving you the time to adjust to his impressive size, your breath hitching in your throat because of the amount of pleasure rushing through your veins.

"I missed this little cunt so fucking much, baby", your husband mumbles against your cheeks before he starts slowly moving his hips.

"Missed your cock, too", you whine, “so much”, your nails scratch the skin of his broad back when his movements start picking up pace.

His long and sensually slow strokes against the sensitive walls of your cunt give you a hard time focusing on anything else but the sweet anticipation. Jeno hums at your words, his thrusts even deeper than just a second prior and the way he pulls all the way out only to thrust into you with full force, has your head spinning. Your mouth falls open as his harsh pounding elicites loud moans from you with every single thrust and at this point, you're not even trying to keep quiet.

Jeno fucks you hard and fast, edging you multiple times as he brings you close to your orgasm, only to pull away just as you're about to cum. Your pussy starts clenching around his thick cock like crazy, your whole body on fire with sweat dripping down your temples and your own drool coating your chin because of your inability to close your mouth.

“P-Please, Jeno", you whimper hoarsely, your clit throbbing in need every time your husband grazes your sweet spot with the head of his cock.

“A little longer, baby”, he encourages you, burying his face in the crook of your neck as his grip on your waist tightens with every single one of his movements, “I want you to cum with Daddy, okay? Come on, you got this. I know you do, after all you’re my good girl, right?”, your husband whispers, pulling away to lift your legs up and place them over his shoulders, basically folding you in half.

The pleasure slowly but surely starts crashing down on you in literal waves, suffocating you in the best way possible as you enjoy the feeling of being stuffed so full. Your moans

grow louder, tears start streaming down your cheeks and your juices gushing out of your spasming hole every time Jeno enters you.

“You’re so beautiful like this, baby”, you whine at his words, his hot breath sending goosebumps down your body and pushing you deeper into the sweetest haze of tenderness and pleasure, “I’m so lucky to have an angel as perfect as you. Fuck, I’m so in love with you”, Jeno lets out a row of loud moans when your cunt starts spasming around his cock.

It doesn't take long for the knot In the pit of your stomach to start tightening, the bittersweet feeling of arousal rushing through your body way too intense to not result in a rather quick and intense high. You start clenching around him, your cunt hugging his cock as tight as a damn vice, easily eliciting deep grunts and sinful groans with every single time and the way Jeno is digging his fingers into the soft flesh of your breasts because of it has your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

"I'm so c-close", you whispers, throwing your head back, harshly pulling at your husband’s thick hair as pleasure is taking up the last bits of your sane mind, "Jeno – fuck – I love your cock so much", you moan, slowly losing yourself in the urgent need to finally reach your much-needed climax but also because you know how much your husband loves being worshipped.

"More, baby", he whimpers into your ear, speeding up the movements of his hips,his thrusts reaching an almost brutal pace, "I'm almost there, I wanna cum with you", he continues and with a soft nod you do as he asks.

"Your cock was made for my cunt. Nobody can fuck me as good as you can", you say, a high pitched moan following your praise, "only you and your big cock can make me feel this way, s-shit, I love you so fucking much.”

It doesn't take another minute of him rubbing firm circles into the sensitive nub as you finally stumble over the edge.

“You've been so good for me, baby, so fucking good. Cum for me,make me proud", Jeno orders and with the words leaving his beautiful lips, you stumble over the edge.

High pitched moans and loud whimpers fill the room as you're trying to handle the waves of pleasure overwhelming your whole body. Your sight blurs for a solid second, the intensity of your orgasm taking your breath away and you feel like you'll pass out.

Jeno’s hungry gazes lingers on you as he helps you ride out your orgasm. You take a deep breath after finally calming down again, your fingers finding his cheek before you look him in the eyes and wrap your hand around his throat. A choked out moan leaves his lips, his hips stuttering as you apply pressure, his gaze never leaving yours and the way he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth makes you clench around him.

"Fuck, I love you so much, baby", he whispers, his voice still strained from the lack of oxygen and you can tell by his sloppy thrusts and soft whines that he's about to reach his high.

"I love you, too. So, so much", you whisper into his open mouth, your lips connecting as you start swallowing his beautiful noises and with one last thrust, Jeno’s whole body tenses up as he coats the inside of your cunt with his cum . And just as usual he pulls out quickly, two thick spurts covering your drenched pussy as well. Your husband throws his head back with a sharp inhale before his gaze shifts back between your legs and he watches his orgasm dribbling out of your tight cunt with excitement and heavy lust sparkling in his eyes and you can't help but smile.

Jeno starts massaging your thighs softly for a couple of minutes, both of you coming down from your high while taking in the sight of one another until your husband gets up and disappears in the guest bathroom.

You watch him come back with a wet washcloth in his hand and messy hair lazily falling into his flawless face, a few single strands falling into his handsome face; making you sigh sleepily because of how good he looks with his flushed cheeks and your marks on the pretty skin of his neck and chest.

Your husband carefully cleans you up and litters your skin in soft kisses as he whispers soft words of gratitude and praise, making it even easier for you to fall in love with him all over again.

After a quick post-sex cuddle session on the couch, Jeno basically forces you to pull through with your night time routine, softly telling you about his day at work as he brushes his teeth and applies his skin care products.

By the time Jeno has his face buried in the crook of your neck again, you’re ready to pass out right then and there; not even struggling a little bit to actually fall asleep for the first time in weeks thanks to your husband.

“Thank you for being by my side, my love”, he whispers against your skin, making you smile softly.

Just as you get yourself to reply with a love confession, Jeno pulls away and looks into your eyes before he whispers: “you’re everything I’ve ever asked for and I won’t ever take you or your presence in my life for granted.”

[whiskeynwriting]

Hi, I would really like to request Din comforting wife reader near their daughters first birthday when reader still hasn’t lost the baby weight. I get really self conscious about not fitting in my bras and could just imagine Din being so sweet and loving about it and maybe taking her on a shopping spree at their next stop to get some new lingerie that make reader feel pretty and smutty times ensue with some amazing smutty praise 😍

This is just darling. It's PRECIOUS

Reader-Specific Writing: Body After Baby

Din Djarin x Female Reader

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Word Count: 4.6k

Warnings: 18+ (minors DNI) please read these warnings thoroughly, as there may be triggering aspects written here.

Body insecurity, parenting, mentions of pregnancy, breeding kink, lactation kink, body worship, helmetless Din, vaginal fingering, unprotected vaginal sex, established relationship/marriage, reader is a mama, I thiiiiiink that’s it

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A/N: I really, truly adore this. And what's even better is I made it for my best friend. I hope you love it bb <3

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The house wasn’t everything you’d hoped for, but this life was. It was everything and more. And you never expected him to accept this, to understand this way of domesticity. But he did understand it; in fact, he wanted it. Din has yearned for this his entire life. 

It wasn’t a conventional marriage, not by your culture’s standards nor his. It was a blend - a perfect mix. Just like your life now. You’re not a warrior like your husband, you preferred a simpler, safer life. And for the time being, that’s exactly what you’ve been given. While you raise your child, hopefully children, your family will live in tranquility. But once they are of age, they’ll begin their training. Commencing Din’s preferred way of living. Until then, you’re to stay here, living on the planet that is Ralltiir. 

During your ceremony, Din promised to keep you safe, and settling here helped him fulfill that. The planet was known for its privacy, successfully maintaining its independence from general political battles - just what Din had envisioned for a home. He not only wanted to protect you, but it’s almost as if he wanted to keep you hidden. You were too precious for the outside world. You, and Vercopa. Your little ray of hope.

“Bid kih…” He hums, smoothing a hand gently over her head. She has barely any hair, but the hair she does have is dark like her father’s. (So small) 

It was a ritual of his, something that was special to him. The very first night Vercopa was brought home, he laid her tiny body on his chest, wrapping her in a blanket while her little hands felt her father’s warm touch. He just adores doing skin-to-skin with her. And that’s exactly what they’re doing now. 

Stepping out of the kitchen, you’re sure to be quiet as you take in the sight. Din shirtless and rocking gently in the chair near your living room, strong arms holding the precious soul you brought into the world. She’s everything to him; Din fell in love the moment he became aware of her small existence in your tummy. And when she came into the world, it was difficult to pry him away from her. But why would you ever want to? You know she’s going to be such a daddy’s girl.

Internally, he sighs, not wanting to wake his daughter. How have you already been here for an entire year? Smiling to himself, he releases a happy hum. He can’t believe her first birthday is almost here. 

“You’re going to be bid kotyc.” He whispers, leaning in to softly kiss her head. “Just like I’ll teach you to be.” Doing his best to remain still and quiet, he grins, his heart soaring with true joy and thankfulness. He knows she’ll be an amazing Mandalorian. (So strong)

The sight of Din holding and speaking to your child so sweetly fills your chest with such an incredible feeling. You’ve never known love like this. 

While your husband and daughter bond, you wander into the bathroom, getting yourself ready for the night. Once life had calmed, Din easily fell back into his routines. Which meant treating you to a night out once a week. Even when you were busy, he made time for it. He’ll dedicate the rest of his life to making time for you.

What an incredible milestone. For us all, really. Pondering your daughter’s first birthday, you find yourself feeling… unsure. Happy, of course, entirely elated to watch her grow. But selfishly, you cringe at the timeline. You thought this worry would be gone by now. 

Sighing, you rummage through your drawers, trying to find a bra that will fit. But it seems like you’ve run out of luck with that. 

“It’s been a year.” You grumble to yourself, closing your eyes in an attempt to calm down. “It’s been an entire year and everything still looks the fucking same.”

Your hips have gotten so wide since becoming pregnant and then giving birth to her. And your thighs… they make you frown. They’ve just gotten so big - everything has. And maker, not to mention your chest. When Vercopa was born, breastfeeding her wasn’t as difficult as you’d imagined, but once you stopped, your chest didn’t return to its normal size. It’s not like they sagged, they were just so big. Why?!

Overall, your body just feels… different. You don’t feel like you.

And what definitely doesn’t help is the constant reminder of it all. Every single day, your clothes bring the realization back into your mind, the remembrance of your new body. Your pants barely even fit, so you’ve resorted to dresses lately. And even then, it was difficult for their outline to contain your breasts. Why was this so difficult? 

“This is so useless.” The breath you release is high, signaling your oncoming cries. And Din hears. It’s a small noise, but one he picks up on, nonetheless. 

Concerned, he glances up, those dark brows furrowing. Your home isn’t big, only a few rooms huddled beneath the roof, so it’s difficult to hide. It’s easy to tell where the noise came from, he knows you’re in the bathroom. So, he stands, carefully moving into the baby’s room. With her still swaddled and snoozing quietly, he places her in the crib, taking one last glance before making his way over to you. 

“Cyare?” His voice is soft, approaching the situation cautiously while keeping himself quiet for the baby. (Beloved)

All he hears in response are your small sniffles, a certain weight pressing into his chest. He hates to see you upset, it genuinely disturbs him. 

Walking into the bathroom, he moves behind you, leaning down to rest his chin on your shoulder. Wrapping his arms around your waist, he sighs, urging you to do the same. His presence is so calming. The air feels smoother, sturdier. 

“What’s wrong?” His voice brings you back to reality, soothing your growing storm of emotions. 

Looking up, you can see those dark brown eyes staring at you in the reflection. Your nose stings from your tears as they spill down your cheeks, a lump growing heavy in your throat. And even though you’re only in a pair of panties, Din doesn’t take his eyes off of yours. He’s worried about you, those broad hands finding your naked hips to rub you gently. 

As your eyes travel down, his follow, landing on the bra in your hands. “I can’t fit into it.” You explain quietly, sounding so small. You feel defeated. But Din smirks a little, his warm hands sliding up over your belly. 

“Ni guuror bic.” He mumbles, the scruffy hair above his lip tickling your ear. You give him a half annoyed chuckle that makes him smile sweetly. (I like it)

Leaning forward, Din reaches for the bra, taking it from your hands and tossing it lightly to the floor. 

“Your body isn’t made to fit into clothes.” He says plainly, turning you in his arms. Facing him, you glance up, staring at your tall, brooding warrior. “Clothes are made to fit your body.” 

And then, he’s bringing you in, lips kissing the crown of your head. “I don’t want you to be upset about this.”

“But I am!” You exclaim, and Din shushes you.

“She’s sleeping.” Your husband coos, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.

“I’m so much bigger, Din. And…” Eyeing your discarded bra, you sigh. “Nothing fits.”

He shrugs, eyes dipping down to your naked chest. “Maybe go braless.”

“Ha. Ha.” 

“Cyar’ika,” Din sighs, his loving eyes flickering between your own. “Don’t you know how amazing your body is?” (Sweetheart)

This makes you feel bashful, a shy smirk curling on your lips.

“You made a person, a mini human being!” Din declares quietly, making you laugh. “Not everyone can do that. You know that, don’t you?” 

His words make you nod, gaze dropping to your still-rounded belly. And he sees this, moving his hands to cover it, stroking you kindly. 

“It only makes sense that your body changes. This is a brand new part of life. Like a brand new you.”

“That’s just the thing.” You can barely even meet his gaze. “I don’t feel like… me.”

It takes not even a second for him to respond. “You’re a better you.”

Head snapping up, you question, “Do you really mean that?”

“Of course, I do.” Leaning down, he presses his forehead to your own. A meaningful Mando’a touch. “To say your body is beautiful doesn’t even come close to genuinely describing you.”

“Din,” You reply quietly, voice filling with emotion. For a man so quiet, he really did have a way with words. 

“How about this,” Your beloved then offers, “Why don’t we go shopping tonight instead?”

“Instead of dinner?”

“Yeah,” He nods, holding your hands in his. “I’ll buy you whatever you like,” Lifting your hands, he kisses the backs of them. “Whatever you feel comfortable in.”

“Really?!” You perk up quite a bit at this, eager to buy some new things. And seeing this makes his heart leap.

“You’re excited about this, huh?” He asks, leaning in to kiss your cheek. But you turn your head, capturing his lips instead. 

Din’s hands find your hips again, settling on the place he just loves to squeeze. “Well…” He sighs against you, “Maybe we can get some new underwear for you, too.”

“I so need that.” You groan, feeling both excited and relieved. But you’re not exactly picking up on his hint.  

“Maybe something a little fancier…” Din mumbles, peppering his lips along your jaw. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” That low voice responds, kissing your earlobe. “Like some new lingerie.” Tracing his fingers around the space beneath your chest, he hums. “Something that makes you feel pretty.”

Your husband is not a trusting man. Outside of you, he could count on one hand how many people fell into that loop. And there were even fewer he trusted with your baby. So, Vera tags along, floating in a small pram beside you and your husband. It’s closed, securing her in for the night. It was a miracle, but you were able to transfer her from the crib to the pram without her waking. The craft itself is something Din is proud of. Made entirely of Beskar, he’d been able to create it after receiving payment from his most recent jobs, missions he took before she was born. And when she grows too old for the floating stroller, it will be molded into her armor.

“How many credits do we have to spend?” You ask, knowing that the fortune Din saved during your pregnancy won’t hold up forever.

“Don’t worry about that.” His voice is metallic now, and deep, that heavy helmet shielding him from the rest of the world.

And Din holds true to his word, he really does get you everything you want. He figures if you need a new wardrobe, you might as well go all out. Din was never one for material possessions, but clearly, this is important to you. 

“I have an idea.” You offer, Din’s gaze directly on you. “Why don’t you go pick out some sets you like? And I’ll try them on, and pick my favorite.”

And Din loves the idea of that, but he’s hesitant. He glances over at the pram.

“She’ll be with me while you’re gone.” Comes your tender reassurance, hand gentle as you pull his gaze back to you.

After that, he’s quick to grab a handful of sets off the rack. It’s almost like he’d been eyeing them since you walked in. He makes sure to grab a few different sizes, too. He’s not sure what fits you and doesn’t want you to feel pressured to squeeze yourself into one if it's too tight. But honestly, the image of you in a too-tight lingerie set has him internally groaning. He’d love to see your tits spill out of the sides, the delicate fabric clinging to the meat of your hips and thighs and wrapping around your belly. Truthfully though, this isn’t about him. He’ll be happy with whatever you pick.

“You're not gonna show me?” He asks, slightly bewildered when you come out of the stall fully-dressed.

“Do you wanna see here?” Whispering your proposal, you approach him, leaning down to ask, “Or at home?”

“Home.” Instantly, he’s standing, those gloved hips reaching out to hold and squeeze your waist. “Definitely at home.”

And while Din is excited to see you dress up in this, you’re excited to see him dress down. Watching him remove his armor was always a sacred experience, you never tired of it. You’ve been together for years and you’ve never tired of it.

“You’re so handsome,” Looking up, he almost forgets that you’re watching him. “You know that?”

He still has his flight suit on, but he’s taken every piece of armor off. And, as per his ritual, his helmet was always last. Truthfully though, you enjoyed every minute of this routine. From the moment he started on his boots, your attention was his. Even if the situation wasn’t sexual, your body warmed with affection and arousal; watching him undress, watching him place the sacred pieces in their chosen spots, his body slowly being revealed. 

“You think so?” He grins, and he never smiled so much before finding you. 

As soon as he’s free of his dressings, he’s moving toward you, cupping your beautiful face in his hands before pressing his lips to your own. And then, he’s turning, picking your daughter up from her pram. Without fail, those are the very first things he does when he takes off of his armor.

“Think she’ll go back to sleep?”

“Yeah,” Din nods, swaying her lightly in his arms. “I’ll take care of it. Why don’t you go get dressed?” Grinning, he leans in to kiss your cheek. 

“Okay,” Your fingertips pet across his scruffy beard, lips curling into a smile against him.

It’s easy to convince him that you've left to get dressed, but secretly, you wait. There’s a song Din likes to sing to his daughter, one he made himself. 

Ner orikih dala (My tiny girl)

Tion’ad cuyir bid kotyc (Who is so very strong)

Ni cuy ijaat at kar'taylir (I am blessed to know)

Gar ganar ratiin cuyir pal'vut (You’ve been mine all along)

Oh, kotyc dala be pal'vut (Oh, fierce girl of mine)

A verd gar kelir cuyir (A warrior you will become)

Bal ni cuy' cyau'kuyc par te tuur (And I’m excited for the day)

Ibac ni liser haa'taylir gar viinir (That I can see you run)

In your heart, you truly feel safe with him. Like you’re meant to be here and so is he. And in Din’s head, he couldn’t be happier; he’s so proud of you and the small child you’ve made, and he’s beyond proud to continue his lineage. 

Like clockwork, your daughter falls asleep, always lulled into peacefulness by her father’s voice. And by the time she has, you’re already dressed. The set Din picked out for you is a dark teal shade, and two-pieced. The entire thing is made of see-through lace, with high-waisted bottoms and a top that dips into your cleavage quite nicely. 

And when he steps into the room, he instantly pauses, eyes going wide when he sees you. Those deep, warm, puppy-dog eyes scan your body, his hands now softly closing the door.

“Cyare…” He’s moving toward you with out-stretched arms, his hands finding your waist that’s no longer well defined. (Beloved)

“You like it?” You feel bashful. Truthfully, it’s the first time you’ve dressed like this since giving birth. 

“It’s perfect.” Wide eyes continue to roam your figure, eyeing the skin he can see beneath the thin layer of lace. “So perfect…” 

Abruptly, he falls to his knees, releasing a deep groan as he kisses your belly. His hands are falling to your hips, sliding around to cup your backside. The small gasp that slips out of your throat makes him smile, his fingers digging into your soft flesh. 

“Din, baby…” Running your fingers through his hair, you hear him sigh before he’s hauling you into his arms. “Oh,”

“Come here,” He grunts, laying you back on your shared bed. 

Immediately, his fingers are finding the hem of your lingerie, pulling the front open and watching your tits spill out from the fabric. He then shoves his face into your chest, rubbing himself into the softness of your breasts. Wiggling his pelvis between your legs, he groans, teeth nipping at the delicate fabric. His body towers above your own, covering you entirely while his hips grind into you with gentle, sensual motions. Those broad hands quickly find your hips, squeezing you so tightly that it stings. And his mouth hasn’t stopped moving over your chest, lips dragging across your skin before sucking his mark onto your chest. 

Din’s body is pinning you down, forcing you into the mattress while you wiggle beneath him, your hands sliding through his hair while your hips meet his every motion. Lifting your legs, you plant your soles on the mattress so you can encase him, surround him. With Din, sex felt primal, like he had a dire need and duty to take you, to make love to you in the most carnal way. And seeing you dressed so prettily only made him hotter for you.

“Din!” Gasping, your hands fly to either side of his face as he wraps his lips around your nipple.

“Mm…” Comes that deep, desperate moan, languidly licking over your hardened peak while massaging each breast in his large hands.

“I love your fucking tits.” He mumbles, his soft mouth moving over your flesh. “I love that they’re big, I fucking love it.” His fingers dig into you, cupping you firmly in his palms. 

The stubble above his lip and along his cheeks tickles your skin, brushing over you as he moves his lips over the hills and valleys of your chest. He mouths at them, sucking on the sides and biting wherever he can. Before leaning back, he sticks his tongue out, flattening it on your solar plexus and slowly licking one, long stripe up between your breasts.

“Oh…” You sigh out, never tiring of his tongue on your skin.

“Look at your beautiful body…” Your husband sighs, that deep and gruff voice driving you mad. “Look at these hips…” 

His hands fall to your thighs, wrapping around the expanse of them and shoving them harshly to the sides. He then lifts them slightly, his mouth diving in to suck on your tender skin. 

Seeing him so aroused from the mere image of you is baffling, his mouth and hands already making you writhe and whine. 

“I can’t believe you’d ever think I wasn’t attracted to you.” He murmurs, licking the sweet flesh of your thighs. “Do you see yourself?”

“Din, baby…”

“I want as many children as I can have with you,” He groans, licking over the softness of your inner leg. “I always want you to look like this.”

Before you can say anything more, he continues to speak, continues to work himself up. “Do you remember how full they were after she was born? Your gorgeous tits?” 

“Mhm,” Nodding, you reach down for him, watching his eyes flutter shut when your fingers rake through his hair. 

“They were so swollen… I wish I could still taste them. Oh, cyar’ika,” Lifting himself, he covers you with his body once again, diving down to your neck so he can lick and nuzzle into you. “I loved it, I loved sucking on them…” With his free hand, he palms your breast, tweaking your nipple harsh enough to make you cry out for him. “Tasting them. Your sweet milk,” Glancing down, he murmurs, “I want that again.” (Sweetheart)

The memory of Din sucking on your tender breasts makes you wet for him all over again, not that you weren’t already. It was such an intimate and erotic moment, and it happened quite often. Holding him in your lap while he snuggled into your soft breasts, his hands kneading them as he watched milk spill from the tips. He’d suck on you for however long he wanted, however long you’d let him. And more often than not, you’d wrap your hand around him while he did it, another familiar, white liquid splattering your skin. 

“Don’t you want more?”

“Hm?”

“More of my babies, cyar’ika.” He answers instantly, his voice hurried and rough. “Don’t you want to be full of it? Full of my seed? Feeling it take root and grow inside you?” He’s truly working himself up, snarling against your neck while he groans. (Sweetheart)

“Baby, of course I do.” Lifting him to your face, you can practically feel the change in him. His dominance pushing to the surface, his primal desire to have and keep you. “Please, please take this off of me.” He’s only pushed parts of the set to the side, but it still hasn’t left your body. “I need you.”

“Stay quiet.” He suddenly orders, his voice stern as he speaks to you. And the next thing you hear is the tear of the fabric he’d bought you less than an hour ago. “Be quiet while I breed you.”

“Din.” But that’s all you get out before he’s slapping his palm over your mouth. 

“Such a beautiful thing, such a beautiful body for me to take…” He murmurs to himself, leaning back onto his knees so he can tower above your body, your heaving chest and spread legs.

Staring up at the man you love, the warrior that protects and provides for you, you reach out to him. Your hand slides over his firm stomach, his toned chest, all while maintaining his eye contact. 

“Din,” You whisper, wanting to appease him. And your quiet voice does. “Give me more babies.”

For the most part, the lingerie barely covering your body is brushed away, exposing your stunning curves to him. His chest presses to your own when he returns to you, one hand lifting to hold your jaw open so he can lick your tongue, the other falling to his throbbing shaft. Shuffling forward, he glides the tip of himself between your legs, between your very center. With a small whine of impatience, you lift your hips up to him. And instead of making you wait, he surprises you, staring into your soul while he slides entirely inside. 

“How does that feel?” He groans, leaning in to kiss your cheek while your mouth hangs open with a gasp. “How does it feel when I’m inside?” 

“It’s,” Sucking in a harsh gulp of air, you swallow, eyes closing in bliss. “It’s perfect, baby. Reminds me that you’re mine.” 

Smiling, you look up to see him transfixed on you, mesmerized by your beauty and devotion. “I am,” He nods, in awe of your love. “I am yours.” 

Retracting his hips, he pulls out half way before rolling his pelvis back into you, the hand he used to grip himself sliding along the bedsheets so he can paw at your cheeks.

“And you,” Dipping down, he shoves himself into the crook of your neck, mouth sliding down your throat, over your collarbones, landing on your breasts. “You are mine.”

Already, you feel like you can’t breathe. Your head is tipped back, lips open while you pant. His strokes are deep and turning harsh. Every thrust is accompanied by a forced and breathy grunt, his cock heavy as it drags along your sensitive walls.

With his head on your chest, he sucks on you again, lips latching to your already puffy nipples. His words are muffled, praise dripping out with his saliva, his kisses becoming sloppy and wet and before you know it, you’re drenched in it.

“Beautiful thing,” He grumbles over you with a heated moan, “Sexy fucking woman.” 

“Baby, holy fuck…” 

“Do you want it?” He asked, shoving himself into you. “Do you want me to breed you? Do you want it all over again?”

“Yes, yes please. Ner verd, ner cyare.” (My warrior, my beloved)

It’s then that he pulls out and is instantly flipping you over. He loves how easy you are to maneuver, those strong hands hauling your hips into the air so he can mount you. And he does, pressing his chest to your back while bucking his hips into you. He’s stretching your sensitive lips, the coarse hair at his base rubbing over your soft skin. The soft slap of his hips against your ass is louder than he wants it to be. But he can’t stop himself, not right now. 

“I want it inside.” He’s babbling into your ear, growling before he bites it. “I want it in your womb.” 

“Please.” It’s all you can manage out, feeling him forcefully rut into you, pressing your face down into the sheets while he massages the fat of your ass, the thickness of your thighs. 

“Your gorgeous body… always ready for me.” Din groans, leaning down to speak into your ear. Reaching around, he cups your jaw, forcing you to look up at him. “Ready to bless me, to give me more offspring.” 

And then, his lips are on you, smashing to your own and feeling the vibration of your moan. He revels in it, in the pleasure he brings you. And he does mean it, every child you give him is a blessing. 

You know he’s close by his grip on your jaw, fingers pinching into your cheek while his brows begin to furrow. Pushing yourself back against him, you whine beneath his weight, feeling his muscles flex against your legs and back. And you really wouldn't have it any other way. Sex has never felt better than when you’re being dominated by Din.

His high is long, drawn out completely. Hips jutting sharply against you, spilling the thickness of his seed into your center, your very core. And you can’t help but grind yourself back against him, feeling the hand on your jaw lower to grab your right breast. Lowering his head, he kisses your neck, your naked bodies rocking together. 

“Just… beautiful.” He praises, “You laid beautifully for me.” 

“Baby,” You whine, one hand curling around to slide your fingers through his thick, unruly hair. “I love you, I feel so connected to you.” 

“We are,” He emphasizes with a roll of his hips. “We are, ner mesh’la dala. Bonded as one, you to me…” Leaning in, he gives your lips a gentle peck. “And myself to you.” (my beautiful girl) 

Without fail, everytime Din came inside you, his fingers would find themselves sliding against your walls. He’d roll you onto your back, his warm body pressing against your own. His hands would spread your legs wide, his eyes watching intently as two fingers slipping into your center, rubbing against your walls. And of course, that’s what he does now. 

“Perfect,” He whispers, kissing your forehead. “Every part of you.” 

Din just adores the feeling of you scratching his back, so while he keeps you full, that’s just what you do. It makes the fierce warrior above you melt, relaxing against you. He lays over your body, muscles flexing as he calms down, his breaths beginning to steady. His weight is comforting, not enough to crush you but just enough for you to feel him. 

“Your body is a sacred thing… you are creating warriors, cyar’ika.” Pushing his fingers a bit further into you, he sighs, nuzzling his nose against your neck, rubbing himself into the space just beneath your jaw. “I have a feeling we made one tonight.”

“Your body is a sacred thing… you are creating warriors, cyar’ika.” Pushing his fingers a bit further into you, he sighs, nuzzling his nose against your neck, rubbing himself into the space just beneath your jaw. “I have a feeling we made one tonight.” 

[ohtobeleah]

I’m loving terms of endearment. Can’t wait to see what happens next.

Warnings: mentions of mental health issues like bipolar. Domestic abuse mentions. Also! The pillow case thing is something Baileys mother still does to this day. 🥺 here’s the Masterlist

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

“You playing babysitter now, Bradshaw?” Phoenix taunted as she caught sight of Bradley Bradshaw walking into the Hard Deck with your little girl strung on his hip. Her head lulling onto his shoulder, tired and just ready to go home after a massive day of doing whatever two year olds get up to at pre-school. “Daddy daycare suits you.”

“Eat me.” Rooster shot back as he came over to greet her and Bob who sat parched up at one of the bar tables. “Hangman taxied into Y/n’s workshop late this afternoon, she got stuck with pickup.”

“Hiya Dot—“ Bob beamed as Rooster handed her over. His arms were outstretched almost from the second he saw the two year old's heterochromia eyes. One blue, one brown.

“I’m just here picking up some dinner.”

“You know Bradshaw, you’re playing a dangerous game here.” Phoenix held her beer up to her lips as she spoke. “Felix isn’t the type of girl who melts like putty into a man’s arms.” Rooster raised a questioning eyebrow, coaxing Phoenix to explain her theory. “She’s been through hell from what we can all tell, you playing baby driver isn’t gonna make her any less inclined to wanna play house.”

“Good thing I don’t wanna just play house huh?” Rooster tapped the top of the table twice before he made his way over to the bar. Leaving Dot in the capable hands of Robert Floyd while he ordered a few burgers to go from Penny.

“Couple of burgers to go Pen, and I’ll fix up Odette's juice tap too while I’m here.” Penny couldn’t help but to smirk as she input Roosters' order, sending it through to the kitchen out back before ringing up the tab he’d started on your daughter’s behalf. Penny had very clear, very strict instructions—all juices and fizzies you ever ordered for Dot were to be put under Roosters name. He’d started the tan one night after he’d asked if you wanted a drink, at first you were reluctant, but you thanked him nonetheless and asked for another draft. Rooster also took it upon himself to get your daughter an orange juice.

That was a month after you’d moved in the Hangman. It had been another three since.

“You still playing the long con Bradshaw?” Penny cooed as she took Roosters card, the same he always used. Swiping it through and clearing his tab. “That girl’s got you wrapped around her little finger.”

“Don’t I know it.” Rooster wore his heart on his sleeve, everyone knew it. Including him. He was incredibly self aware that when he was infatuated with someone they became his whole world. “But what’s a guy gonna do Pen? Honestly, whatever she wants me to do I’ll do it.”

“She knows, just give her time Rooster, a girl like Y/n doesn’t let her guard down easily. So the fact she’s trusting you to look after her daughter right now is an absolute feat.”

“She lets Hangman look after her all the time.” Rooster took his card back gently before pocketing it back into his wallet.

“Yeah, she also showed up on his doorstep in the middle of the night after her partner tried to kill her.” Penny didn’t know that Rooster didn’t know all the details of what brought you to North Island. He understood whatever it was had you reluctant to trust, but his heart absolutely sunk into his stomach hearing Penny say something so horrible so nonchalantly. “Of course she’s gonna trust him, he’s obviously earned it—they’ve known each other for how long?”

“Since they were kids.” Rooster answered as Penny gave him an all knowing smile. Spraying down the bar with sanitizer before she wiped it clean.

“Exactly, but whatever you’re doing Roo, you’re doing right.” Pete Mitchell and Penny Benjamin were all Bradley had in terms of parental figures. He trusted their judgment more than his own sometimes. So to hear her say he was doing something good reassured him that love was indeed the pursuit of a fool—but it would be worth it all for you. “Felix will come around, she’s obviously smitten as for you, just—take it easy, let her control the speed, she’s a stray, they take a while to warm up.”

Rooster didn’t stay all that long, he knew Odette was just itching to get home. He could see it in her eyes as she played with the fabric of Bob's T-shirt. Sucking her thumb to soothe herself as the music got a little louder. With a plastic bag full of takeout, Rooster took your daughter back from where she sat on Bob's lap. Like she’d done a million times, the second Rooster had her situated on his hip—she melted into his side. Bradley had become a bigger part of your daughter’s life than he understood. Deciding his place was not the better of his two options to take Odette.

“You can't be serious?” Jake opened his front door with a sigh of disbelief as Odette came bounding up across the grass. “What are you doing here!”

“Well, I was thinking– all her stuff is here, I don't have anything at mine, so the most logical thing to do would probably be to just watch her here for a couple of hours.” Rooster explained as he carried the take out bag in his hand and Dot’s school bag over his shoulder. He dwarfed it– the purple bag that seemed too big at times for your daughter barely fit over Bradley's shoulder. The strap nearly cutting of his circulation as he made his way over to where Jake now stood holding the little girl he’d take a hail of bullets for. “Already text Felix, so she knows we’re gonna be here.”

“Okay well, it's just gonna be you guys for a while– Coyotes up for a game of pool.” Jake felt Odette squirm in his grasp as he placed her down on the ground before she took off in the direction of her dollhouse. “Dont burn my house down.” Tapping Rooster twice on the shoulder, Jake passed him in the entrance way, throwing him his house key off his key chain in the process. “And don't forget her bedtime is seven thirty.”

Jake Seresin liked to pretend he didn't care all that much about anyone or anything, but under the thin layer of vanity and egomaniacal persona he liked to project more often than not–he would lay his life on the line for you and your daughter if need be. Sure he was starting to feel a little cramped being outnumbered in his own home. But he knew the reason you were so reluctant to apply for staff accommodation in the first place. Jake had always been and would always continue to be a protector. Having him just a few steps down the hall brought you unmatchable comfort. You were safe here, he’d promised you that. So far? So good.

He just wished he had done something sooner rather than later. He always has an underlying suspicion that your partner Jaidyn wasn’t all that respectable. It wasn’t until you started reaching out for help that Jake realised just how bad things had truly gotten—but he wasn’t quick enough on the draw. He didn’t have enough leave saved up to do a trip back to Texas to come and figure out what was actually going on. Before he knew it? You were at his door with just the clothes on your back and whatever you could fit in a bag for Odette.

“You didn’t come for me!” You weren’t the type of person to drink yourself drunk. But as you threw up the contents of your stomach into Jake's toilet as he rubbed and back, held your daughter and made sure your hair wasn’t getting caught in the trajectory of your vomit—the smell was undeniably unpleasant. You’d surely had way too much. “You could have come for me but you didn’t—“

“I was coming for you Y/n, I just needed to get some time off work that’s all—you know I would have been there in an instant if I was able to.”

“I didn’t drive—“ That's all you explained that initial night as you threw up everything in your system. Jake noticed the dried blood in your hair and the bruises that were starting to show. “Taxi.” He didn’t press for any more details, Nake knew you’d tell him come the morning. “You didn’t fucking come for me, I needed you—“ It was painful to see you the way you were, Jake loved you like his own sister. He’d always seen you as one, so to hear you say he’d let you down when you needed him the most broke his heart. “I needed you and you weren’t there.”

So Jake never pressured you to apply, he let you take your time. But the more he saw your light coming back? Especially around Bradley Bradshaw, surely a little nudge in the right direction wouldn’t heart his chances in getting his house back.

“I got it.” Rooster answered as Jake shut the front door, the sound of Dot playing with her dollhouse the only thing filling the void of silence. “Alright little one, let’s get you all sorted.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***

It was honestly a relief that Rooster had decided to take Dot back to your place. It wasn't something you had thought through all that much, but when you eventually saw the text he’d sent about doing that instead–your anxiety seemed to subside to a point where you could actually focus on your work. Get it done quickly so you could get home to your little girl.

Rooster heard you pulling up into the driveway around eight thirty. He swore he heard the new Taylor Swift album blaring about a mile down the road before headlights were lighting up the living room. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t sung along a time or two to bejeweled if he heard it playing in your workshop whenever he’d stop by for lunch.

At the sound of keys rattling, Bradley gently sat up a little straighter on the lounge. He’d tried to negotiate with Odette around seven o’clock that she had to start getting ready for bed but her only response was ‘not without mama.’ So, he compromised. The two year old was fast asleep as cocomelon played softly in the background and the rainbow lights on the Christmas tree illuminated the living room.

“Before you scold me, she’s been like this since seven thirty.” Rooster defended himself as you stood in the entryway looking over at where he laid with your daughter sleeping on his chest. He’d been absentmindedly drawing unidentifiable shapes across her back to settle her. It was a sight that just melted your heart. “I just didn’t have the heart to move her up into your room.”

“You don’t know how thankful I am Rooster, honestly—“ You mumbled as you kicked off your boots. You were tossing up whether or not to have a quick shower at work before coming home, but you felt guilty leaving Bradley to look after Odette more than he had to.

“Don’t even stress, really.” Rooster groaned as he stood. Odette stayed clung to his chest as he carried her over to where you stood. Your shoulders softened either more as she curled into his chest even more as she slept. “I’ll go put her to bed. Why don’t you have a shower, change, and before you ask I got you a burger and some fries."

“Woah, you really do know how to seduce a woman don’t you Bradshaw.” Teasing Bradley as you leaned in to press a soft kiss to his cheek, your hand resting on his shoulder. “I’ll be right down, shower sounds way too good after I just spent two hours cleaning dismembered bird parts from Jake's intake.”

“You know sometimes you make it sound so glamorous.” Rooster followed you up the stairs, hot on your heels as he carried your daughter to the room you shared. It wasn’t much but it was most definitely enough. She had her own little bed while you had yours. In terms of space there was enough room to still put a desk and perhaps a small office chair if you wanted to. Jake had even at one point offered to swap rooms with you. He wanted you to have the master since you had Odette too—but you were already imposing on his space enough. To take his room too would’ve been cruel.

“Yeah, and the dried vomit I always end up cleaning out of your oxygen tanks makes your job seem so desirable as well.” Rooster smirked as he took a right at the top of the staircase as you made a sharp left. “But yeah—it wasn’t what I thought I’d be doing on my Friday night, that’s for sure.”

You felt comfortable around Bradley, it was weird—usually you were a little stand-offish around men in general. A little more reserved and timid. With Jake? Never. He’d seen you at your worst so it could only go up. But with Bradley? Things just felt so domestic and easygoing. You knew he liked you, you liked him too. But you couldn’t drag him into your mess. He was too much of a good guy to be dealing with crazy ex partners and the truckload of baggage you brought to the table.

As you washed away shower thoughts of Rooster, he put your daughter to bed for the night. Tucking her in, making sure she had her favorite teddy by her side for extra comfort. She had a bad habit of sucking her thumb, but god did she look way too adorable. He couldn't help himself, it felt so right, gently brushing her hair back and out of the way of her forehead before planting the softest of kisses against her forehead. There was probably some undiscussed boundary he’d crossed–but Odette Dolan was the light of everyone's life. Including Bradleys.

“Sleep tight Dot.” Rooster cooed as he turned on his heels, noticing the open cupboard. He knew that if he didn’t shut it now Dot may wake up later in the night crying. At the young age of two, monsters in the closet were a real problem. Rooster knew you had your own monsters, but he also knew he couldn't do much to help you with those. At least he could help protect Odette. “What's all this huh?” Rooster smirked to himself as he noticed all the christmas presents tucked inside the closet. You spoiled her rotten. Everything from barbie dolls to new clothes, school supplies and even some new dress ups. “She’s got you all sorted huh?”

Rooster shut the closet with a smile plastered across his face–he had already brought you a bracelet he’d seen you eyeing off from time to time whenever you guys would go into Westfields together. The white gold bracelet with diamonds surely wasn't something you were going to splurge on. He knew you were reluctant to spend big on yourself, something that had been instilled in you since you were a child. But he already had the bracelet under his tree.

“God, I'm starving!” You sighed as you wrapped a towel around your head, holding your wet locks up in a plop style twist. “That burger is gonna go down a treat.”

“You're welcome, I settled Dot's juice tab too.” Rooster beamed as he sat at the dining table watching as you bent over to retrieve the burger he’d got you. The oversized shirt left very little to his imagination as the pair of panties you wore peaked out. Lace. Black.

“Good, don't open it again, I can pay for my daughter's drinks, Bradshaw.” You were so hungry that you didn't even bother putting the cold burger in the microwave. Taking a bite as you rolled your eyes in relief. “Fuck this is so good.”

“Too late, already started another one–” It wasn't that you weren't thankful for the gesture, it was more so the fact you felt obligated to pay Bradley back. It was just the way you were raised by your brothers. Any debt you owed anyone you paid back the second you were good for it. Y/l/n’s didn't owe anything to anyone. “And before you say you’ll pay me back, don't even bother, it's a non-negotiable.”

“You know Bradshaw, You're playing a dangerous game here.” You cooed as you sauntered over to where he sat, straddling his waist as he welcomed you onto his lap.

“Funny you say that, Phoenix said the same thing.” Bradley responded as he let his hands slip up your back under the shirt you were wearing. One of his.

“She's smart, she knows you're falling in love with me–doesn’t want you getting hurt.” You took another bite of your burger. God Bradley could not be more in love with you if he tried. “It's inevitable that I'll break your heart.” Not that you were trying to. You liked Rooster, probably more than you let yourself admit. A life with him didn't seem too bad in the grand scheme of things. But you knew deep down, you weren't good enough for anyone as kind and as loving as Bradley Bradshaw.

“What do you mean falling in love with you? I've already fallen.” Bradley was quick to press a kiss to your collarbone. “Just waiting for the moment you admit it to yourself that you’re in love with me too.”

“Oh–” You scoffed. “You'll be waiting a while there big boy, hope you're comfortable.” You teased as you softly moved your hips against Bradley's crotch. He bit back a moan as you chuckled softly to yourself.

“Very, especially with you sitting on my lap right now.” Roosters hands had slipped out from under your shirt to help guide your hips. You could feel him bulging through his jeans.

“Yeah I thought you were a little happy to see me.” Raising an eyebrow as you took the final bite of your burger, sucking your fingers clean almost seductively. Bradley was losing his goddamn mind.

“Extremely, I’m extremely happy to see you” Roster leaned in again to kiss your neck. “Always.” Leaving soft pepper-like kisses against the junction of your neck and shoulder—he noticed how you lulled your head to the side. Giving him more access as you continued to move your hips in small circles. “You’re driving me crazy here Fe.”

“Am I?” You teased with an all knowing attitude. “You should stay the night.” Rooster had to stop his assault on your neck just to make sure he wasn’t hearing things. You'd never asked him to stay the night before.

“How would that work with a two year old in the same room?” Bradley raised a brow as he pulled away. A soft pink hume had crept across his cheeks. Clearly flustered.

“There’s a living room, a bathroom, a kitchen and a dining room we could surely take advantage of.” You knew you had him all kinds of fucked up,

So much so he’d forgotten how to talk. “I’m sure between the two of us we could figure something out?” You couldn’t help but to laugh as Bradley nodded desperately in response before his lips were on yours in a second. Softly melting into one as your hands now roamed his torso under his shirt. Grinding against him as the friction his jeans brought felt way too good to stop.

“You sure about this?” Bradley whispered as he pulled away flustered and horny. If you said stop now he’d be able to, in a few more minutes he’d really have to fight his urges. “Because we can stop if you.”

“You picked my daughter up from daycare Bradley, you brought me dinner, I’m sure—“ You kissed him again in a needy manner. Your tongues danced with one anothers Rooster played with the hem of your shirt. Balling it into his palms before pulling away. Lifting your arms above your head so he could remove it. “I’m so sure—“

“Holy shit—“ Bradley felt like a teenager again as he sat eye to eye with your exposed breasts. He’d seen what felt like a million pairs before but yours? Out of this world beautiful. “Baby you’re killing me here.”

“You wanna go—“ Before you could finish your sentence there was obnoxious knocking coming from the front door. You flung yourself so quickly from Roosters lap he swore he got whiplash from how quickly you jumped off him. Snatching your shirt from his hands as you raced over to see who it was. “Fucking hell.” As you opened the door, Jake stood there with a slump to his shoulders.

“Coyote must have a pool teacher, he flogged my ass—“ He murmured to himself as he pushed past you.

“Don’t you have a key?” You groaned, you’d just been cockblocked. It wasn’t all that often you decided to put yourself out there—and the one time you decided to let your guard down? Jakes there to ruin it.

“I gave it to Rooster!” He hissed back at you before he made eye contact with a very flushed Rooster sitting at his dining table. Putting two and two together with the fact you weren’t wearing any pants? He knew something was going on. “Okay no, unacceptable behaviour people—“

“You meddled!” Roosted whisper shouted as he stood from the chair you’d just been dry humping him on.

“Yeah but that wasn’t an invitation to fuck on my dining table man come on—“

“Nothing happened, dad.” You gruffed as you made your way over to the table, sitting down with a huff. “But you seriously have impeccable timing. I'll give you that.”

“Yeah, literally—I guess we could just wrap up those presents you’ve been hoarding in the cupboard instead?” Rooster saw the quick look of question on your face before it turned into a look of agreement.

“Oh yeah, well I mean I was just gonna throw them all into pillow cases but yeah I mean if you want to. Since we can’t you know, fuck on the dining table.” It was a jab at Jake who looked at you rather unimpressed. “You got any wrapping paper there papa or should we fuck on the couch instead?”

“There should be some out in the garage.” Jake answered as he stood with his hands on his hips. “This is my house you know, if I make a clear rule that there’s to be no fucking in any common areas of this household I expect it to be followed.”

“Hangman—“ Rooster sighed as he tapped him on the shoulder. “Nothing happened, and you can’t tell me you’ve never brought a blonde home and haven’t made it up the stairs?” Jake was silent for a moment as you and Bradley ganged up on him. Both laughing softly as you shared an all knowing look.

“It's my house!! I can do whatever I want!! God! You—you are a fucking miscreant if I ever knew one.” Jake groaned as he turned on his heels and made his way up the stairs. “Unbelievable, in my own home—“ You heard him muttering to himself as you and Bradley made your way to the garage. A box of seasonal products still sitting on top of the freezer from when you’d put up the Christmas tree a few days prior.

“Hey, what did you mean by pillow cases?” Bradley asked as he watched you finish out a roll of wrapping paper.

“Oh, it’s nothing really—“ It had been something you grew up with. “It’s just, we didn’t always have money for presents growing up—on the years me and my brothers were able to round up enough cash to buy my sisters a small present each, we barely had enough left over to buy wrapping paper and all that stuff, so we’d use pillow cases.” The way you said had Rooster in a tizzy. It seemed so normal.

“You mean you sometimes didn’t do presents at all?” Bradley Bradshaw knew his privilege, but he’d never actually had someone tell him to his face that gift wrapping was a luxury.

“Rooster, I’ve got a bipolar mum–but I honestly wouldn't even be able to tell you if she's still alive or not and an alcoholic addict dad who's only ever around when he needs money.” You explained as you stood in the garage of Jake's home. He’d come back down to give you a piece of his mind about respecting his furniture—but had heard you finally opening up to Bradley about your life. Something he’d been pleading with you to do. “They were never around, so we’d save whatever wasn’t going towards bills and food just to be able to buy a barbie or a tonka truck or something my kid sisters were desperate for—some years though we just had to go without because dad would find the money and it would be gone in seconds.”

“Y/n, that’s—“ Jake had always told Bradley that if he put his problems in a pile with yours he could guarantee he’d take his shit back so quickly. You’d been through so much. “I don't even know what to say.”

“You don’t need to say anything, just come help me wrap these presents because I don’t know what I’m doing if it’s not a pillow case.” Before you could make your way past where Bradley stood, he was reaching out to draw you into a kiss so passion filled it knocked the breath right out of your lungs. Dropping the wrapping paper you kissed him back, your arms around his neck as his hands settled on your hips.

“You don’t have to tell me anything, and whatever we are? I’m okay with, but just know that I’m all in with you—with your daughter, with your baggage.” Rooster kissed you one more time as his hands moved from your hips to cup your cheeks. “But I get the sense you’re trusting me more, so please—you can tell me anything Y/n.”

“You don’t wanna get involved, Rooster.” You said it almost as a final warning. Because whatever warnings you’d given Bradley before he hadn’t heard. As you looked lovingly into his eyes, deep swirling pools of browns and dark greens, you thought maybe for a moment you were worth his unconditional love. “I’m not who you think I am.”

“Too bad, I’m already too invested to quit cold turkey now.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

Tags: @a-serene-place-to-be @lilyevanswhore @thescarletknight2014 @blindedbythelightt @averyhotchner

[actual-changeling]

Do you think Aziraphale has been verbally, emotionally and psychologically abused by Heaven as well?

I will answer this question like one asked in good faith even though my gut is telling me there's a 50/50 chance it is very much not one.

So!

There are two parts to his answer, or rather one question is actually two.

Firstly, we have to talk about whether heaven is abusive, what that abuse looks like, and how it differs from hell.

Secondly, how did the results of question one affect Aziraphale, if it is different from what the other angels in heaven face, and what additional trauma might he have experienced due to being on earth.

I could write a 10k meta post about this and go into the finest detail, but I will just try and stick to the main points for now. It's still going to be way too long because I am so fucking tired of people accusing me of 'hating' Aziraphale or harassing me on my posts or in my inbox.

Is heaven abusive? Yes, and it applies to both heaven as an institution and the Archangels running it.

Getting to know Muriel and what their life looks like was extremely helpful in properly defining this, because they showed us that although the Archangels tend to travel and work as a group, most of the angels are incredibly isolated.

The result is complete emotional neglect, which not only impairs your ability to form and maintain healthy relationships with other people, it also stops your from learning emotional regulation and how to behave and feel as a part of (angelic) society. We see the consequences of that in Muriel, who comes across as overly naive, socially awkward, and out of touch with not just people but themselves.

When your entire life has been shrunk down to what happens inside your own head, suddenly being confronted with having to live outside of your mind is jarring, overwhelming, and foreign.

How do you talk to people when no one ever taught you how to do that? How do you behave around someone after a lifetime of being alone? How do your regulate your responses to their behaviour?

Who are you when there is someone else to perceive you?

Figuring that out is complicated and it takes time, and while most of the angels are only distantly aware of how humans live and what kind of interactions some of the other angels might have, the effects of that neglect stay the same whether they are aware of it or not.

Muriel shows us that angels are not born/made as a blank slate, and neither are humans for that matter. Tabula rasa as a philosophical belief is one thing, but reality is very, very different.

Angels also appear to have the same inherent need for connection, for a caretaker that loves them unconditionally, for someone to help them figure out how to be, and that provides a safe space to make mistakes. Without some or all of that, you grow up into a disregulated, socially awkward if not inept person who does not know how to have relationships or how to properly exist.

It is one of the reasons why autistic people are a) almost always traumatized to some degree and b) do not know how to socialize. No one ever works with our brains, and the resulting neglect is very similar to not receiving any help at all.

If you are now curious what happens if you're both autistic and were completely socially neglected, the result is uh. me. Hi! Not nice, but at least I am very sure I win the award for being my therapist's most fucked up client, so that's something.

Yet the angels are not solely emotionally neglected, the system/household they live in demands a low self-esteem, a lack of individual identity, and complete adherence to a defined ideology and behavioural pattern. In short, you are told how to be a useless, tiny part in a bigger machine, that your only purpose is to succeed at your tasks, and any opportunity for individual development is removed or destroyed.

If you are now once again curious what that might be like, uh, yeah, hi once more. Obviously my childhood was not exactly like an angels life, but the core characteristics were the same, just realized differently. Again, not pretty, really, really fucks you over.

Take that and the neglect, combine it into one person, and then drop them in the Garden of Eden—hello Aziraphale! Crowley got dropped into hell first, experienced more abuse, and then dug his way up into Eden before joining him.

Aziraphale experienced everything Muriel (and Crowley, and every other celestial being) also experienced, with one main difference: He is the one who got away.

We have to remember that out of every single celestial being, Aziraphale got the best deal. He did not fall, he got out of heaven (more or less) permanently, and was then largely left alone.

Does that erase anything I laid out above? No, of course not!

It simply provided him with the opportunity to heal, to take his cPTSD and who knows what other disorders he developed as a result, and start recovering.

Canonically, heaven did not bother him, like, ever, except for the odd note about 'frivolous miracles' or ten minutes of catching up every millennia. They only started monitoring him once they started to suspect he was involved with Crowley and trying to stop the apocalypse from happening.

Aziraphale worked on some things, he got better in many regards, especially with Crowley there to support him, but after six thousand years, many aspects have stayed the same or regressed back to the start over and over.

I will tell you a hard pill to swallow now: If you refuse to acknowledge your issues to instead live in a world of nicer denial and compartmentalization even when you have been offered the chance to change it, that is partly on YOU.

Is it fair? Fuck no! It's not fair at all, and I have had so many breakdowns over that fact. I did not break it, this is not my FAULT so why should I have to fix it all on my own? Why do I have to do the work, not them? How come they get away with it while I am going to have to carry this for the rest of my life?

I still have to do it though. I have to do the work, no matter how uncomfortable and exhausting, because I want to get better.

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This conversation has so many facets and is a lot more complex, but this is already long enough, so if you have any questions or want to know something specific (while asking politely and in good faith) just send me an ask; I will do my best to answer it.

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We are now only missing the last part of question 2, and that one is also so fucking complicated reducing it to the main points almost feels wrong, but I will do it anyway. Again, just ask if you have questions.

Abusive households are horrible, and you want to get out and away, but they are also the only thing you know. The world is scary, too big, too open, where did all the rules go that were previously defining your life?

Surviving in an abusive environment means you establish routine after routine after routine for every possible horrible scenario, you write a mental rule book to try and reduce the abuse (don't make them angry, don't cry when they're already shouting, don't do this, don't do that, do x but not y), and THAT is your socialization. THAT is everything you know, everything you are, everything you know relationships to be like.

Once you are away from that, you are completely and utterly lost. Even breathing feels like making a mistake, you feel watched, judged, rated, berated, you have them stuck in your fucking head. So you keep sticking to what you know, your behavioural patterns that have kept you safe your entire life.

The problem is that they kept you safe, past tense. In a healthy environment, all of those coping mechanisms are now maladaptive and harm you instead of keeping you safe.

However, breaking out of them and starting from scratch is terrifying. So, so, so terrifying. I live in constant fear, I feel judged and unsafe in my own flat with the curtains shut and the lights on. I feel like I am about to get subjected to another one of his fits for daring to use the stove.

No matter what you do, your body and brain are SCREAMING at you that diverging from what you know will kill you—and then you have to do it anyway.

Do it alone and afraid and awkwardly but DO IT. Otherwise you will always find a way to recreate the environment you grew up in, whether that is people getting into unhealthy relationships and replicating the patterns they know (which Aziraphale does with Crowley, e.g. the push-pull of his affection) or eventually even returning to it because they ruined you, but a part of you is so, so attached to them you just have to try and change them.

Some people can move on from it without going back, but sometimes you need to try and experience that failure for yourself before being able to move on, and that's where Aziraphale is at.

He needs to try and fail to be capable of finally committing to recovering.

So, to summarize this entire shitshow: Yes, Aziraphale experienced emotional neglect and abuse, and while it is different to what Crowley went through and objectively less intense and physical, it is still just as valid and horrid.

Just because a car accident is objectively worse than falling off a bike doesn't mean the biker's pain is unimportant. Both can kill you, both can hurt you, and both deserve to get their injuries treated.

Questions?