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shredsandpatches · 2 years

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sunday snippet (OT3 in training edition)

Forgot to post a Sunday snippet last week so here's a longish one for today. This is set fairly early on in Richard and Anne's marriage, after she's found out about Richard and Robert but also after they've begun working things out. I don't think I've posted it before, at least. I haven't been writing much lately because I've been completely caught up in job-hunting stuff.

Richard hasn’t spent much time alone with Robert since Anne caught them together; he doesn’t want to break things off entirely, and he misses Robert terribly, but he doesn’t want to hurt Anne either, and Anne has not been very clear about her feelings regarding their continued association, even as friends and brothers-in-arms. The three of them have all spent time together, enjoying hunting and hawking and the occasional private supper, but with things still so unsettled, Richard and Robert have both been shy of one another.

Which is why it’s such a great surprise when Richard comes to pay Anne a visit in their private garden, which she has taken to very quickly and where she will sometimes relax after dinner, and finds her walking arm in arm with Robert while a few of her ladies trail behind them, their veils fluttering behind them in the warm breeze. One of them calls out something in their native language and motions to Anne, who takes Robert’s arm and turns him in Richard’s direction. Robert actually pales as he bows, but Anne is beaming as she curtsies.

“If it isn’t my two favorite people in the world!” Richard exclaims, taking Anne’s hand and kissing it. “I hope you haven’t frightened Robert too badly.”

Anne smiles up at Robert. “I think he will recover.” She offers her hand for him to kiss as well. “Will you, my lord of Oxford?”

Robert bows gallantly and raises it to his lips. “If your Highness bids me,” he says.

“I do, my lord,” Anne says. “Will you come hawking with us tomorrow? My lord of Cambridge and his lady gave me a new falcon, and my lord husband says you are skilled in falconry.”

“Of course,” Robert says. “At his Highness’ pleasure.”

Richard smiles. “Always,” he says.

“If my lord will grant it,” Anne says, turning to Richard, “I will take my leave now—I would like to rest, and I have letters from petitioners to look over.”

“Of course,” Richard says. “I’ll see you at supper.”

“Come see me after?” Anne says, her eyes warmly hopeful, and Richard’s heart flutters.

“Whenever you wish,” he says.

Anne’s cheeks go just a little pink. She stands on tiptoe to kiss his cheek, and when Richard bends in, she whispers, “Try to behave yourselves.” But when Richard looks at her face again, she is smiling. “Good afternoon, my lord of Oxford,” she says, and sweeps out of the garden, her ladies behind her. Agnes gives Robert a wry smile and a pat on the arm on her way past, though if she means to flirt with him, Richard doesn’t think she’ll have much luck.

Robert, impervious to Agnes’ affections, sinks onto the stone bench nearby, his expression dazed. “What just happened?” he says.

“Don’t ask me,” Richard says. “I just got here. But I’d guess that Anne likes you.” He smiles. “It looks like at least one of her ladies likes you,” he adds, elbowing Robert hard enough to be teasing but softly enough to still be friendly.

“I didn’t notice,” Robert says. “About her ladies, anyway. But—Diccon, is she all right with us now? After everything?”

Richard’s cheeks flush a little. “Maybe?” he says. “I haven’t had the heart to ask her about the specifics. She was so hurt, Robin—she was afraid I’d never really loved her—”

“Well,” Robert says, “I hope I’ve set her straight for you. She seems like a bright girl, but if she can’t see what’s in front of her—I mean, you’ve talked about practically nothing else since she arrived.”

Richard covers Robert’s hand with his own. “That doesn’t mean I’ve stopped loving you,” he says. “I’ve loved you since before I even knew what that meant. That hasn’t changed, Robin. I asked Anne to trust me, before. I need you to trust me, too.”

“It’s not that I don’t trust you,” Robert says. “I just don’t know how long we can keep this up, now that you’re married. Or how long the Queen will tolerate it.”

“It will help if you get to know her better,” Richard says. “What did she tell you?”

“That she knew I’d lain with you,” Robert says. “I’m surprised she’d even heard that that was possible. Maybe she’s heard the Wycliffites grumbling about it. They seem to like her.”

Richard huffs a little, dislodging a pebble from the ground with his toe and watching it skitter across the garden path. “She could have learned about it from us, you know. And shut up about the Wycliffites. She’s not a heretic.”

“No, I suppose not,” Robert says.

“She just asked you about us, just like that?”

Robert smirks. “I mean, we didn’t get into the specifics of it. Though maybe she would have enjoyed knowing, who can say? But she wanted me to know that she knows, I think.” He looks down at his shoes, reaches down, plucks a daisy and sticks it in Richard’s hair. “She could destroy us, you know. Like your great-grandmother did to your great-grandfather. It’s not as though there aren’t people who’d want front-row seats if I ever got myself disemboweled. And yet—I don’t think she will.”

“Anne is nothing like my great-grandmother,” Richard says. “Nothing at all. I told you, back when we were first married: she wants to love you, as I do.”

“That’s exactly what she told me,” Robert says. “That I am beloved of you, and that through her love for you, she must also love me.” He shakes his head, baffled. “She’s not what I expected, Richard. I didn’t know wives could be quite like that.” He shrugs, then, and gives a little snort. “Mine certainly isn’t.”

Richard makes a little noise that’s meant to be a laugh but doesn’t get there. “How do you even know that?” he says. “When was the last time you talked to her?”

“It was—” Robert pauses. “A while ago? I don’t know. I don’t especially want to talk about it.”

He is the one who brought Philippa up in the first place, but Richard lets that pass. “I’m just saying,” he says. “Being married actually isn’t bad at all, you know. I’m sure you and Philippa could also work something out, while I work things out with Anne.” He nudges Robert again, grinning. “You know, before Agnes gets her hopes up too much.”

“What are you talking about?” Robert says.

“Anne’s lady-in-waiting—the blonde one, with freckles. I think she likes you.” Richard grins. “Clearly a woman of discriminating taste.” He leans over and kisses Robert, quickly, on the lips. “She can’t have you, though.”

Robert laughs. “I told you,” he says. “I’m a King’s man, through and through.”

#the novelthing #sunday snippet #richard ii #otp: my derlyng is a bundel of myrre to me #otp: such a passionate fling for a virgin king #ot3: 'tis two rogues i love #btw 'my lord of cambridge' is edmund langley who isn't duke of york yet in 1382 #also: richard has a tendency to be oddly approving when someone has a crush on someone he loves #he consistently compliments their taste #he says the same thing about both ralph stafford and agnes in re: anne #this is a sign that he's really trusting of his partners #so like #of course people love them #they're really lovable!

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dirkxcaliborn · 9 months

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I'd have to say one of the cutest, novel moments in a romance manga I read recently was when one of the characters noticed the other's behavior and thought it seemed like the other character had feelings for him, but then he told himself off for making assumptions about other people's feelings lol

#coyo speaks #it just felt like something you don't see very often #especially just like... where it's not a moment of him being all cool like I know you're in love with me yada yada #but that very grounded moment of like recognizing the signs but not wanting to make assumptions #I think the only thing I'd really criticize about that manga is that I don't think the sex scene was necessary #it's not that notable ig while reading it #but if you think about it for too long it happened way too early in their relationship #for context the one who caught feelings was a cat who ~wished to be human~#but like... he's been human for like a few months at MOST #He just has a lot less understanding and reference than your average virgin #and he wasn't the one who initiated and he seemed confused the whole time #idk I just feel like a character who has ZERO frame of reference for how relationships work should've properly taken things slower #although that's framed weird bc like I said it's not him that pushed things that fast #and I think it would be different if he was the one who initiated things where like maybe he doesn't really understand it #but he wants it whatever it is #I just really think he should've been setting the pace as the one with the least experience #as it stands I don't feel like he even knew enough to know what he wants #so for someone he has such strong feelings and trust in to be like 'I'm going to show you something good'#he's not very likely to contest that... if his partner says it's good and he can't really figure out his own feelings #then obviously it must be good regardless of how he feels #thinking that hard about random single volume BL manga is never going to turn up great results tho lol

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void-tiger · 10 months

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I’m definitely gonna miss you, but I think I finally trust we’re at a place where things are secure well enough for hopefully continued growth as friends, and it’s that insecurity I find unbearable, not the absence itself.

See you in a month. (Have fun. Enjoy your reconnection. Be safe.)

#tiger’s musings #if it ever came to it I could roll with long distance #prolly ‘cause that’s like. how ALL of my close friendshils are. literally penpals.#it’s the insecurity of trying to form friendships (and then have THAT spaced out over time) that makes me into a mess #but if the relationship is secure. it feels mutual. it feels like there mutual desire&potential for eachother’s company and growth #then…? yeah. actually I’m fine. ofc I want more time. but also? I know I can trust now so I can hold.#and…idk. I’m going to take his eyes lighting up and rambling for a second in Shop then kinda zoning out to read the script I handed him #Right Away! as a good sign.#(and…yeah. letting someone else see your art. inviting them to participate with feedback. he’s an artist himself. I think he Gets It)#(you don’t really do that Unless you value someone and their opinion)#(and I’m pretty sure by now he values mine)#(so…okay. I took the step to Show something of myself (and where I want us to go. if he’s interested))#(I want to be seen as a peer. not someone pitied but Genuinely Concerned And Seems Kind&Helpful Enough)#(…I want a partner in crime lol)

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fangswbenefits · 1 year

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Tension

𓂅 𓄹 Summary: Miguel walks in on you late at night doing something unexpected, which makes things really awkward afterwards…

𓂅 𓄹 Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x spider-woman!reader

𓂅 𓄹 Warnings: 18+!!!. Dark Miguel. Pining. Increasing sexual tension. Masturbation. Oral sex. Breeding kink. Creampie. Cumplay. Size kink. Fangs. This is very filthy… you’ve been warned.

𓂅 𓄹 Words: 3k

In the dark of night your thoughts were your own.

You had absolute freedom to indulge in your desires and quenching that thirst that had been consuming you as of late.

A deep sigh left your left as one hand slid inside your panties, seeking to offer a much needed comfort. Your eyes were glued shut and in the dark of your mind, you had a blank canvas to paint an erotic scenario that would be effective.

His face came up first as the pad of your fingers began circling your swollen clit.

How you wished it could be his long and slender fingers instead.

Red eyes watching you intently as he slowly but surely built up your orgasm.

Wet sounds began to fill your ears as two fingers entered your soaked pussy. A sudden gasp left your parted lips as your mind tried its best to keep the illusion alive.

Your fingers were promptly replaced with his. Back arched and heat quickly spreading across your entire body almost snapped you out of it, but had become quite accustomed to this late night endeavour.

In your mind, Miguel O’hara was a pleaser when it came to intimacy. All his walls would crumble at the prospect of bringing pleasure to his partner.

There was nothing you could do about this.

You craved him more than anything.

More than anyone.

In your mind, he would go for a third finger, just so he could properly prepare you to take all of him.

“Fuck…” you moaned as you pictured him struggling to make it fit.

Your walls clenched around your fingers wishing it would be his cock instead. That bulge left nothing to the imagination. He had to be well endowed.

Soon enough, your mind had you see a flash of his fangs.

Miguel was a predator.

And, in your mind, he would not shy away from baring them as a clear sign of control.

“Miguel…” his name rolled out of your tongue too easily. “Miguel… please…”

Your other hand came to fondle one breast through your shirt wishing it would be him instead.

“Migueeeel, squad 239 is ready for briefing.”

That voice…

Your eyes snapped open as your senses detected someone else in the room. Before you could fully process what was going on, your instincts kicked in and you grabbed your webshooters from the nightstand, ejecting twin strings of solid web at the tall figure in the dark.

Two thin flashes of red and orange tore through air, effectively tearing the webstrings to pieces.

“I’ll be right there.”

You audibly gasped, removing your soaked hand from your underwear.

Miguel O’Hara.

You let out a shriek, hurrying yourself to pull the covers up to your neck, preserving some of your modesty… or what was left of it.

Lyla’s hologram turned to face you. “Oh? Are you okay?”

You could only nod, not trusting yourself to speak any words.

“What did you do to her, Miguel?”

The eyes on his eyes narrowed. “Lyla…”

She ignored him. “Want me to check your vitals?”

“No!” you immediately panicked.

“Lyla,” Miguel’s stern voice was heard again.

The obnoxious assistant appeared next to you in a heartbeat and you were blinded by her orange beam as she scanned you.

“Pupils fully dilated, heart rate at 123 beats per minute, temperature rising, respiratory rate at 20 breaths per minute…�� she tapped her chin pensively. “Did you just run a marathon?”

Before you could come up with a ridiculous lie, Miguel intervened. “Lyla, that’s enough. Inform them I’ll be right there.”

She adjusted her pink glasses. “Ooookay!” she chirped before disappearing.

Miguel was fully covered in his suit, his mask hiding whatever thoughts he might have on what he had just witnessed.

It felt like hours as he stood there in silence, facing you.

Fuck.

He had definitely heard you…

“Miguel…”

You thought you saw him take a step towards you, but maybe your vision was betraying you as he turned around instead, and jumped through the open window.

Flashes of his red webbing tore through the night sky like lightning.

Your travel watch suddenly beeped on your wrist, alerting you to catch some sleep.

Out of sheer frustration you ripped it off and threw it across the room with such force that it hit a wall crumbled into pieces.

“You look absolutely terrible, girl.”

“Thanks, Jess.”

Jessica Drew had been a good mentor to you ever since you first joined eight months ago, so you gave her a pass.

The cafeteria was buzzing with the early morning commotion of a few spiders getting some breakfast.

She kept eyeing you with interest. “Rough night?”

“I guess,” you mumbled, before bringing the spider-man themed glass to your lips and taking a sip.

“Because of Miguel?”

You nearly choked on the orange juice, sending a spray across the table that Jess easily avoided.

“W-what?” you stuttered panic came crashing in like a wave. “Miguel?”

Did she know?

She arched an eyebrow. “I mean… he’s been kinda pushy lately, so it adds to the stress.”

Relief poured down on you and you sank into your chair. “Oh, yeah, yeah…”

“I think it’s time he settles, you know?” she carried on, rubbing and staring at her belly with adoration. “Having a family might help him more than he thinks.”

Last night, this topic might have come in handy as a new unlocked fantasy of yours: having Miguel O’hara’s children.

But today, the mention of him at all had your stomach doing somersaults.

“Heeeeey!”

You jumped in your seat and your heart skipped a couple of beats.

“Lyla, you need to stop popping up like that. You’re gonna scare someone to death one day.”

“I do this all the time witn Miguel just to annoy him,” she beamed happily as she started hovering closer to you. “He wants to see you.”

“Speak of the devil…” Jess drawled out with a yawn, taking a bite off an apple.

“Me? Me?” You felt your life drain from your body in that moment.

Lyla nodded. “He can’t get a hold of you through your comlink.”

Oops… the dimensional travel watch that you had smashed to pieces a couple of hours ago.

“Huh… left it at home,” you quickly said. “I think it’s malfunctioning or… something…”

“You should have that fixed soon,” Jessica chimed in.

“Yeah…”

Lyla was staring at you with with an ear-to-ear smile. “Can I tell him you’re on your way?”

“Oh… now?”

“He’s in a terrible mood, so try to be quick.”

Fuck.

“I have stuff to do… can this wait?”

Lyla’s smile didn’t falter. “I wouldn’t keep him waiting if I were you.”

You felt like throwing up, the events of last night replaying in your head like a broken record. He had surely heard you moan his name multiple times. It was obvious he was now ready to confront you about it and probably send you back home never to return.

“Fine…” you mumbled in defeat.

You parted ways with Jessica and started making your way though the busy streets to reach HQ.

As you landed swiftly onto a nearby bridge that led to the elevator, you threw a look a the tall building in front of you, dreading going inside.

“I’m sorry!” you automatically said as you bumped into someone.

“You look awful,” came Hobie’s voice from behind you.

You waved your hand dismissively, keeping your pace, but Gwen suddenly showed up at your side. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Why?” You tried your best to sound convincing with a forced smile.

Hobie was now in front of you, hands shoved in pockets, guitar hanging from his back and inquisitive eyes on you. “Bad mission?”

“Nah,” you sighed as you entered the elevator nearby that would lead you straight to HQ and your early demise. “Just on my way to see Miguel.”

Gwen offered you an understanding look while Hobie merely shrugged. “Yeah, that explains it. Terrible aura that bloke has.”

You pushed the button that would bring you to the top floor and as the doors were sliding shut you saw Hobie saluting you. “Give him hell, kid!”

Easier said than done, but you were thankful for the brief distraction and gave him a heartfelt smile.

You stepped out and into the long corridor that led to his chamber.

By the time you reached the entrance, Miguel’s platform had already began descending.

In its usual torturing pace.

“Hi, Miguel!” you waved enthusiastically as if you weren’t about to go through the humiliation of your life. “Sleep well?”

You cringed at the ridiculous attempt at small talk.

Deafening silence filled the room until the platform had finally come to a stop.

He turned to face you as the multiple screens behind him flashed with different images and text.

“You look… tense,” you added as he stepped down in your direction.

“This is about last night,” he started, red eyes fixed on yours.

Fuck. This was it. You were backed into a corner. There was no way out now.

“Miguel… I can expl—”

“Where are your mission logs?” he quickly cut you off.

Your eyes widened . “What?”

He now had a finger pointed at you, his face drawing near. “You were supposed to register the logs of your mission with Pavitr last night, remember?”

Oh.

“We came in late and…” you were rubbing the back of your head and chuckling throughout in a miserable attempt to lighten the mood. “You know! Headed back to my place and… huh…” your words faltered momentarily. “… I-I… got distracted.”

“Clearly.”

Your heart clenched at his remark.

Miguel kept eyeing you as if expecting you to go on, but you couldn’t bring yourself to work through the humiliation of having the subject of your innermost desires confronting you about it.

Just as you were about to change the topic, he quickly turned his broad back to you, bringing his hands to move files around in front of him, archiving some and swiping through otheres.

You managed to catch a quick glimpse of a few ones of his daughter that he promptly closed.

“You need to start taking this seriously,” he went on, pulling out footage from all around Nueva York. “Where’s your travel watch?”

At this point, you started to wonder if he had actually heard anything. Maybe you hadn’t been that loud. Maybe he had arrived just as Lyla’s hologram showed up. Maybe all this worry was for nothing.

“Huh… it’s… not working properly,” you managed to say as your mouth went dry.

“You need that fixed.”

“Yeah, I’ll bring it to tech later today.”

Miguel’s head turned to face you. “I created it. I’ll fix it.”

Panic spread inside you like wildfire. “Oh! No-no! It’s fine. Really. Can’t you just give me a new one?”

In a blink of an eye, he was already facing you again, towering dangerously close. “Do you have it with you?”

You shook your head, too scared to breathe.

“Then let’s go to your apartment.”

“Why?”

His face was so close you felt as if he’d swallow you with his red eyes. “Time is valuable. Don’t waste mine.”

This was definitely an overkill. As grateful as you were that he would personally try to fix your watch, you soon realised you had put your foot in your mouth.

And as the two of you made your way out of HQ and to your place, you couldn’t push away the feeling that something was… off.

Miguel seemed on edge.

Maybe it was just your paranoia, but he seemed tense. Well, more than usual, that is.

The rest of the trip — through immense crouds of various spiders to web-swinging — was done in utmost silence until you reached your destination.

“Lyla?” he called out all of a sudden.

The tiny hologram popped up instantaneously. “Yes, boss?”

“Pause your live updates, unless it’s an emergency.”

“You gotta say the magic word first.”

Miguel growled. “What word?”

She had a devious look on her face as her heart-shapped glasses slid down to the tip of her nose.

He sighed. “Please.”

Lyla snapped her fingers with a smile. “Not so hard, was it?”

The hologram vanished just as you were about to unlock the front door with the fingerprint scanner. You walked in first, grateful that you had left the apartment in a presentable state, safe for a few books and shirts scattered all around.

Miguel just stood there.

“Hmm… I’ll go get… it…”

You hurried inside your bedroom, trying to pick all the tiny pieces of the deceased watch that lay on the carpet.

Having Miguel here would have been a delight under much different circumstances, but now you just wished a hole in the ground would swallow you whole.

He was still standing where you’d left it and when you handed him the object, you saw a frown settle on his face. “No wonder it’s not working. What happened?”

“Oh! Yeah! I stepped on it… accidentally!” you quickly added with a chuckle, embarrassed pooling inside you.

“Can I sit down?” he asked point at the couch.

“Of course! Mi casa es tu casa!”

You mentally slapped yourself at the abhorrent accent and winced at Miguel’s unimpressed expresssion.

“How often does it happen?”

That threw you for a loop. “Huh… it was the first time, actually.”

“Are you sure?”

What?

You blinked a couple of times, waiting for him to clarify.

Something dark flashed across his eyes. “Was it the first time you touched yourself thinking about me?”

Nothing could have prepared you for the words that had just left his mouth, and you jaw nearly dropped to the floor.

On Miguel’s end, he seemed unbothered, returning his attention to the object in his hands.

“I… huh… you… you heard that…”

It wasn’t a question. You already had the answer, but he had completely caught you off guard.

“You were being particularly loud.”

Heat rushed to your face and you felt absolutely mortified. “I’m sorry… I didn’t know you were there…”

He shrugged. “I had come by to check in on you after your mission,” he informed, tinkering with some screws. “You had your window open.”

Ah… yes… spiders and windows. Why knock on doors when you can simply swing inside?

But something wasn’t adding up. “Why… would you check on me? Pavitr delivered the report, right?”

Miguel stood up at once and flashed in front of you. “I’ve been watching you lately.”

You swallowed. “What… what do you mean?”

He backed you against the wall behind you and you vaguely wondered if this was some sort of test. Maybe a joke?

“Playing innocent, now?”

He was not making any sense at all. “Miguel… what…”

“I know how you feel about me,” he said in a whisper. “I’m quite good at reading people and their intentions.”

You wanted to disappear right there and then.

“Last night… I took a detour and decided to remind you to be a good girl and do upload your mission logs, but…” he paused, eyes landing on your lips. “I was presented with something that stirred something in me instead.”

You could feel his body nearly touching yours, heart racing at an alarming rate and the urge to arch into him.

“You were so lucky I had to brief that squad…” he went on, lips ghosting your cheek. “I would have ravaged you right there.”

Your knees almost gave up under you. “Miguel… I..”

“What? Do you think it was easy to turn away from that sight? You were so wet I could nearly taste it.”

And just like that, your clit started throbbing and your eyes fluttered shut.

All reason abandoned your mind. Logic would have told you to go slow and easy, but your primal instinct spoke louder.

“Then why didn’t you come back later?” you whispered into his lips, whishing he’d take yours at once.

“I would have broken you.”

Your eyes shot open.

Now you knew why he seemed off.

It wasn’t tension from the overload of work. He wasn’t on edge, because protecting the multiverse was taking a toll on him.

“You’re so willing… so responsive to my touch,” he said, planting the faintest kiss to your lips before breaking it. “Last night I felt an overwhelming need to breed you.”

You vaguely remembered Jessica’s words earlier on.

“So, tell me… what were you thinking about last night?”

“You…”

Miguel pressed his lower half against yours, making you fully unware of how much he wanted you. “Be specific,” he snarled.

Your clit was throbbing so painfully, you considered rubbing yourself on him for some added friction.

You did want to tell him all about your fantasies. How you have been craving him for months. How you’d have wet dreams time and time again. How you’d make up excuses to visit him at HQ. How you wished you could be his.

But no words came out.

“How many fingers were inside you?”

“Two…”

He started rolling his hips slowly, providing much needed satisfaction to your swollen clit. “Can you take more?”

You buncked into his impressive erection, knowing fully well why he wanted to know.

“One more…”

And then Miguel O’hara growled.

He had one hand loosely wrapped around your neck as he finally captured your lips with his. You had been experienced many types of kisses before. Soft, needy, sloppy, hurried… but you had never once experienced this level of hunger.

You let him deep the kiss with his tongue and felt yours brush along his sharp fangs.

He kept you in place with one hand when you heard and felt the sound of fabric being torn. You immediately tensed up, but Miguel reassured you by breaking the kiss to stare down the length of your exposed front, your spider suit now ruined.

The cool air hardened your exposed nipples and you saw more hunger in his eyes.

“I want to breed you.”

You arched your back, offering more of yourself to him, sure that this was just wordplay coming from him to spice things up.

Conveniently enough, Miguel had the ability to make his suit disappear at free will, eliminating the process of having to undress. The moment your eyes landed on him again, he was fully naked and you were left speechless.

He looked so inviting… from his toned torso all the way down to his thick cock pressed between you two, beads of precum sliding down the tip.

“It’s too big…” you mumbled as it dawned on you how much bigger than you he was… in every sense of the word.

Miguel pressed you against the wall, lifted one of your legs to wrap around his waist and allowed his cock to freely slide along your wet folds.

The hand on your neck tightened lightly. “Miguel… it won’t fit…”

“It will.”

You shuddered from the delicious friction against your clit and felt a gush of wetness drip from your pussy. Your body was trying its best to get ready to accommodate him, but you feared it wouldn’t be enough.

He kissed your jawline before sliding down to your shoulder and then you felt his sharp fangs teasing your skin.

“I heard that you can paralise someone with a bite…” you moaned as wet sounds filled your ears.

“Don’t worry, little one,” he chuckled as he applied some pressure teasingly. “I won’t do that to you… for now.”

He removed your leg from around him and brought one hand down to his cock. “Grab it.”

You did as you were told, enjoying the feeling of his hard cock being completely soaked. He set the pace by wrapping his own fingers on top of yours.

“Just like that…” he hissed, baring his set of fangs. “Tighter…”

You did try, but he was too thick to do that properly. Your eyes were glued to the sight of more and more beads of precum sliding down his knuckles. He was deliciously ready to take you.

“If you’re any tighter than this, I won’t last…” he mumbled, biting his lower lip until it drew blood.

He was driving you over the edge with his words and you weren’t sure you’d be able to withstand so much stimulation all at once.

You gave his cock a few more pumps before he hauled you into his arms with little no effort.

“Hey!”

“I want to taste you,” was his response as he lowered you on the couch. “Eyes on me.”

He parted your legs and settled between them, pressing open-mouthed kisses along your inner thigh, giving you goosebumps. Your back arched again as he tore through the rest of your suit with his retractable claws.

“Look.”

Your eyes landed exactly on what he wanted you to see: your clit was so swollen it was nearly peeking through your folds.

“So pretty…”

His tongue glided along your folds, parting them gently before he started sucking on your clit. You immediately jerked reflexively into him and fell flat on your back, not able to hold back your moans.

Every fantasy and wet dream you had had of this man could never come close to the real deal.

“Miguel…”

He groaned into you, the vibration making you buck your hips, yearning for more.

And be provided. He started with one finger slinding inside your pussy, but soon added a second one.

As he let go of your clit you promted yourseld on your elbows to revel at the sigh of Miguel O’hara having your juices running down his chin.

“Think you can take another one?”

You pouted.

“Please don’t do that… I’ll fill you up with my cock right now if you give me that look again…”

You rode his two fingers slowly, enjoying the stretch, but feeling more and more emboldened by the ego boost he was giving you.

“Miguel…” you moaned, eyes fixed on his. “I… think I’m ovulating.”

Honestly, you had no idea. It wasn’t something you bothered keeping track, but you figured he might enjoy it if you joined his game.

But, as they say, be careful with what you wish for…

He mumbled a string if curses in Spanish, immediately removing his fingers from inside you and flipping you onto your stomach.

“Why would you say that…”

You saw his face from the corner of your eye. He looked utterly unhinged.

“I thought you might want me to play along…”

Miguel placed his hand on your hips and had you arch your back to him, giving him better access to your dripping pussy.

“Oh, you think I’m joking?” He growled and you felt the tip of his cock nudging at your entrance. “I really, really want to breed you.”

Your eyes widened. “Miguel?”

“You’re perfect,” he said. “I want you to carry my child.”

Your pussy clenched around nothing and he seized the opportunity to slide the tip inside, earning a muffled cry from you. You had to bite down on a pillow to keep from screaming at the overwhelming sensation.

“Stop clenching…” pleaded, gripping your hips tighter. “You have to relax… or…”

Miguel bucked his hips and you felt more of his cock stretching you and you couldn’t help but to clench tightly from the pain.

“Miguel… it’s too much… please,” you cried out, squirming under him.

He let out a guttural groan. “You have to stop clenching…” he said. “Can you do that for me?”

You nodded and tried your best to relax.

“Good girl…” he praised you, rubbing your hips gently with his thumbs. “Almost there… look at me.”

You did so.

“Bite down on that pillow.”

Your eyes widened.

“No, no! Don’t clench or I’ll cum… I won’t last longer if you keep doing this,” he seemed desperate at this point.

But you did as he had asked and he took the opportunity to bottom out, letting out an animalistic growl.

Just as your were getting adjusted to his size, Miguel began to set a rhythm that would leave you gasping for air and gripping the fabric of your couch with such force you feared you might pull something.

You suddenly felt two fingers rolling your clit in between, which had you arching your back even deeper, craving more and more.

“I need you to cum first…” he was panting heavily now and you figured it was taking all of his will-power to not blow his load right there and then.

He rubbed your clit in unison with his thrusts and the familiar coil started to grow in your lower abdomen.

“Miguel…. Miguel….” you moaned in between gasps as you reached the point of no return.

By the time you had reached the edge and were hit with an overwhelming wave of orgasm, you noticed he had pulled out, leaving your to clench around nothing and being sent into your peak with just his fingers on your clit.

“Put it back!” you protested, backing into him and nearly crying from the loss of friction. “Fuck you!”

“Go on… that’s it… ride it out,” he said, having to steady your hips with one hand.

Your legs started spasming uncontrollably and then you felt him shove his cock in one go.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck….” you moaned.

Miguel was too far gone and it was obvious he had wanted you to reach your orgasm first so he could feel those rhythmic contractions.

That was what brought him over the edge.

You were now coming out of that haze of unmatched pleasure when he bottomed out once more and spilled inside you.

Miguel was gripped the back of your couch and you saw and heard his claws digging into it as he pumped more and more cum. His growl of pleasure echoed across your apartment and you wondered how many of your fellow spider neighbors had been able to hear it.

You felt broken… exhausted… read to go to sleep and never wake up.

Your breathing was erratic and your heart drummed loudly in your ears. Miguel pulled out slowly and you collapsed on your side, feeling splurts of his cum pouring out.

“Fuck…” he panted, nearly stumbling back.

Out of curiosity, you reach between your legs and gathered a small amount of his cum in your fingers so you could taste him.

“Do I taste good?” he asked as he shoved the rest of the spilling liquid back inside your pussy.

Your tongue darted out to lick your fingers. “Come find out.”

It didn’t surprise you that Miguel’s stamina insanely high and that he had managed to regain his composure.

He slid to the floor and kneeled in front of you, kissing you and, as you parted your lips, you allowed him to taste himself on you.

“I’m going to have so much fun with you,” he grinned, helping you shift on your back. “Now stay still for a couple of minutes.”

“Why?” you mumbled, finally able to get your breath under control.

Miguel O’hara had his suit on once again. “Did you actually think I didn’t mean what I said?”

His mask now covered his face as he leaned to plant a kiss to your forehead through the fabric. “You are going to bear my child.”

#miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o’hara fanfiction

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vilsoo · 1 month

Text

CATCH ME IF YOU CAN, SPIDER

⸻ 🕷️‧₊˚ ⋅ spiderman!gojo satoru x black cat!reader obsessed with the hunt more than the prey, you love making satoru chase you. maybe one day you’ll let him catch you…

TAGS. robbery, theft, chase scene, sexual tension, teasing, dirty talk, flirting, eventual rough smut, slight stalking, use of petnames (cat, kitty, etc), unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, switchy!gojo, switchy!reader, WC: 3,670

gojo has never met anyone as reckless as you.

it was always in your nature to be so cunning, playful, and whimsical just to get what you want. but there was much more about you that he’ll forever admire; your intelligence, proficiency, skills, and agility as his partner alongside. you used to work together professionally, taking down criminals and carrying out missions while also having an intimate relationship together.

but aside your flirtatious, provocative side that gojo also had a thing for, you were still a criminal deep down.

he strongly believed that he could have a positive influence on you and not live the rest of your life as a thief. but your criminal instincts always got the best of you; you valued your independence and desires more than anything, enjoying your luxurious life of crime as a relentless and manipulative burglar. when gojo caught you stealing from the criminals you both fought, everything had to end that day from such betrayal. your mistrust and moral ambiguity was too much for him to handle as spiderman.

as the years gone by of working alone and saving the city millions of times now, you still come and go across gojo’s mind. you were nowhere to be found and unable to track no matter how hard he looked. as badly as he misses you alongside with him, he just couldn’t handle the conflicting loyalties, trust issues, and moral differences between you two. but there was no doubt that he still has love for you deep down… he’d often wonder what were to happen if you were to ever cross paths again.

“there’s been suspicious activity going down at the art museums and large bank corporations in tokyo and shibuya. many valuable art pieces have gone missing along with over 70 million yen robbed in just a blink of an eye…”

it was currently 12:07am in tokyo. gojo made his way inside the tokyo national museum while it was closed, checking if every art piece were still intact including the security protocols. he knew he wasn’t really supposed to be sneaking inside here, but he’s dedicated on catching this thief, even if it’ll piss the police off for stealing their job (like he always dowes) and taking care of things in his own way. but that’s how gojo rolls— technically considered as a vigilante, he’ll always be a menace to some people in the city, even the ones in authority. if only he wasn’t so whimsical and cocky about being better than the cops at doing their jobs sometimes…

as gojo was scanning the museum, nothing seemed out of place. even his spidey-sense couldn’t recognize any kind of movement, danger, or threat nearby. the showcase room with tokyo’s national treasures all looked perfectly fine— but it wasn’t until he passed by the katana displays.

a tiny black cat figure was sitting on the silk drape where the 10th-century crescent moon blade was supposed to be. though he was alert that an artifact was already missing, he couldn’t help but wonder what kind of trick this was. but when a click from the black cat went off, a demure voice recording started playing.

“hey, spider. been thinking about you a lot lately. it’s just boring living alone in this new house… maybe some new decorations wouldn’t hurt. like the crescent moon katana, one the five swords under heaven. i think it’d look lovely on my shelves, don’t you think?”

your voice heightened every nerve of his body as if his inhibitions were tossed out the window. his head darted at every corner of the showcase room, looking for cameras or even a sign of you lurking in the shadows. every thought of his was consumed by flashbacks of you; your scent that drives him crazy, your touch that drives him wild, your flirtatious side that gojo just couldn’t get enough of… all of your memories flooded right back into his head.

“black cat,” gojo marveled, suddenly coming back to his senses after realizing you were alive this whole time. “i should’ve known— 70 million yen in just one night? i didn’t think there’d be anyone that skilled to pull that off better than you can. still been a bad kitty, haven’t you?”

“aw. are you flirting with me already? seems like you missed me,” you teased through the speaker on the black cat toy.

“you ghosted me for months and here i find you again; catching you stealing art or starting your own heist,” he exasperated. “what’s it gonna take for you to actually stop stealing art?”

you couldn’t help but admire gojo through the security cameras; he still looked as good as the last time you left him. “you already know me, spider. my morals aren’t ever aligned with yours. now, you gonna get out of there and catch me or wait until the security system gets triggered?”

suddenly, the alarm went off right after you already made your escape out of the museum. cursing under his suit, gojo had to find a way out and avoid the red flashing lights and cameras. from the window, he can see you swinging with your grappling hook out from the museum and into the city.

“quick! check everything,” a man’s voice echoed down the hall when a rush of dozen security guards scurried into the showcase room.

gojo had to immediately attach onto the ceiling and hide in plain sight, looking for any nearby exits as quick as he could before you could get away this time. when he found a sunroof window that can be pushed open, he made his way out and started swinging towards the direction you were going.

it didn’t even take long for him to find you; he knew exactly what you were doing; making your way through the cityscape and pretending that he wasn’t following right behind you from a distance. you really wanted to get caught. or maybe you were luring him right where you wanted him to be…

“oh, you’re still with me!” you pretend to act shocked as you looked behind your shoulder, hauling yourself onto a crane and staying higher above him. you wanted to keep him at a distance where he can’t reach you, but he can follow you until you reached your hideout.

gojo grunted, remembering the fact that you can swing a little faster than him. “i can go all night if that’s what it takes!” he shouts.

“all night with me? is that a promise, satoru?”

“you naughty girl. still trying to flatter your way out of this?”

“oh, but you love when i do that!”

the two of you kept swinging through the city, through the streets, and even underground where all the train stations were busy. as exhausted as he was, he was still dedicated to reach you. maybe even capture you and pin you down with his webs for running away from him. as you swung through a darkened alleyway, gojo managed to draw closer and was preparing to shoot a web to temporarily stop you. but at the end of the alleyway, you suddenly disappeared. he landed on a window with a loud thud and panted heavily, looking everywhere for you.

“damnit,” he cursed under his breath. “where’d she go?”

as gojo crawled across the building’s windows and was about to haul himself over onto the rooftop, he peaked over and instantly recognized your shoes. you were heading through the doors of the building that appeared to be the balcony of a fancy penthouse, looking behind your shoulder with a smirk on your face before heading inside.

you were a naughty, yet clever girl in gojo’s eyes.

as quiet and sneaky he could be, he landed on the balcony and swung on top of your penthouse’s windows to not be seen. gojo had a sense that you knew he was watching— but then again, this is exactly you wanted. purposely discarding what you stole from today’s heist, you knew there was something else that you desired besides all that money and fancy artifacts you stole. you feigned oblivious about gojo literally stalking you. it made you want to spice things up a bit…

you whirled around to face your body mirror and slowly zipped down your latex black suit. slowly stripping down for him, as if you were throwing a little show— even the neighbors across the building could also enjoy. but you took pleasure and thrill from teasing gojo like this, always from a distance where it’ll tempt him to draw closer to you. he loved how coy you tried to play for him. maybe he wanted to get you back and give you the attention you were wanting. as he crawled on your large windows and made his way on the rooftop, he entered through your open sunroof window and landed in the middle of your living room with a loud thud.

but as he scanned the inside of your penthouse, you were gone. nowhere to be found in the last place he saw you. of course, you were wildly unpredictable to him. always pulling your own tricks and surprising him off guard. it wasn’t until it was too late before his spidey-sense could warn him that you were attacking him from his peripheral vision— before he could pull a move and defend himself from you jump attacking him, you grab his arm and flip him over on his back, straddling him as he grunted in pain.

“woah. breaking and entering now, spider?” you huffed as you hovered your masked face above his. “i don’t think it’s fair that i get in trouble for it but you don’t.”

“trouble?” gojo scoffed. “you’ve caused enough trouble for me tonight, sweetheart. i played your little game and chased you down the whole city. and now i finally caught you just like you wanted me to.”

your lips curl into a smirk as your gloved hand slowly caresses his chest. your suit wasn’t even zipped down all the way, only revealing more of your cleavage that gojo definitely couldn’t take his eyes off of.

“technically you didn’t catch me. i caught you— stalking me through my windows and watching me undress myself? maybe i’m not the only naughty one here…”

“oh, please. what exactly did you gain from stealing and making me chase you all the way to your penthouse? ‘cause i know exactly what you’re doing right now…”

the tone in gojo’s voice falls from stern to sultry, feeling your heartbeat grow rapid in just a fleeting moment. there was this unexplainable affect that gojo had on you when you two were together. he’d evoke such strong sensations that you never knew you were capable of feeling, like tempting you to go straight and become a hero like him to fight alongside with. as a thief and wanted criminal, it’s palpable that good boys like gojo satoru were your type… you may have loved him, but you couldn’t love anything more than the hunt and the luxury.

your faces were just mere inches away from each other; you still memorize his prominent features that you adorned like how you memorized dozens of safe codes. but as gojo fixates his gaze onto you underneath his mask, you have eroded his senses once again, the way your dark mystery drizzles into his skin. he couldn’t fight nor deny how effortlessly you beguile him, wrapping him in some sort of spell. he fumbled several missions in the past just to kiss your pretty face, to sneak away on rooftops and get down to business from how crazy you make him, and developing serious romantic feelings for you that he was willing to make you more than just his girlfriend and partner— if only you had not betrayed him…

“don’t you miss this, satoru?” you cooed to his ear as your hand makes its way to the neckline of his mask. he can feel the way your fingers slipped underneath, gently caressing his neck and wanting to lift it just to reveal lips.

gojo would be lying if he said he didn’t. hot flashbacks of all the times you two made love and fucked each other hard in the past started running through his mind it was impossible to evade. he missed you deeply; he could never fight off the irresistible effect you have on him.

“you brought me all the way here for a reason. might as well make the most of it, right?”

suddenly, gojo pushes your body off his and hovered above you now, snatching his mask off and tossing it away in urgency as he kisses you. he can feel the way your lips stretch into a smile as you kiss back, immediately wrapping your legs around him and running your fingers through his snow-white hair. your body falls weak from his knee pressing between your legs, remembering your ultimate weakness.

gojo’s mouth made its way from your lips to the side of your neck, holding back from kissing your collarbone to get one good look at you one more time. his ultimate weakness was your luscious, expensive scent— whatever perfume you had was like a strong pheromone to him, sending his mind into a haze. but he still managed to remain in control, no matter how dominant you tried to act towards him.

“if you’re gonna strip for me, why didn’t you finish, hm? you wanted me rip your suit off for you or what?”

“do it, spider. i dare you,” you taunt, subtly biting your lip.

gojo chuckled, shaking his head in response to not giving you what you want. “nah… i don’t think i should ruin it. do what you did earlier and strip for me while i watch you.”

even if you wanted to act all defiant and bratty towards him and not give him what he wants, there was a part of you that wanted to throw a little show for him. gojo sat down on your sofa with his arms propped on the back cushions, slightly manspreading. you always knew how truly perverted he was underneath that “hero” facade he has for the public, which is why you fell for him.

as you stood in front of him with a smirk, you slowly pulled down the zipper to your suit. gojo watched in silent amusement watching the sleeves fall from your shoulders, slowly revealing your tits and your laced thong, all the way until your black leather suit pools around your ankles.

“‘atta girl,” he says, shifting himself on the sofa from how uncomfortable his boner was under his spider suit. “not so hard following directions, am i right?”

“following directions is not the only thing hard for me right now…” your gaze lands on his crotch, prompting you to get on your knees and crawl right between his open legs, making him nervous. “poor spider. looks like there’s something else that needs to be taken care of.”

now you were back in control of gojo, who had to hide his face flushing red from your hands caressing his inner thighs. you looked so fucking sexy to him, even when you’re teasing him on your knees right in your penthouse living room with the police probably on the search for both of you right now. he lets you pull down the lower seam of his suit as he slips off the top part and discards everything on your floor, finally taking in his heavenly body and strong physique that you admired for the longest. it felt like old times, with both of you half-naked and craving deep intimacy one last time.

“i really did miss you, cat,” gojo murmured, peering deep into your eyes.

you get up off your knees and straddled him, feeling his soft hands glide down your bare back and caressing your waist. “i missed you too, satoru.”

he lets out a sigh when he feels the wet spot on your panties subtly rub on his aching cock poking through his briefs. “if i make you come multiple times tonight… will you promise to be a good girl and stop stealing?”

“is that another way of telling me you want to fuck my brains out right now?” you teased, subtly grinding your hips on him. “fine, i’ll oblige. you did promise to go all night with me.”

and as the night went on, gojo really fulfilled his promise of fucking you multiple rounds, multiple positions, and multiple orgasms. hell, you lost count that it was probably way more than him. it astounded you that he was lasting this long with you compared to when you two were together; always this sweet, shy, and submissive boy for you that couldn’t last two rounds because of how you were always in control. sure, after he was bitten by the radioactive spider that gives him his strength and super powers, he was still sensitive and more prone to orgasms because of his heightened senses. but now that time has passed and you haven’t seen each other in a long time, it seems that his stamina has increased dramatically.

your orgasms were way more intensified that you lost all coherence from how mindblowing gojo kept fucking into you much further and faster, wrapping his large hand around your throat from behind and slightly choking you. never have you been so turned on you couldn’t see straight.

“you can take it all, cockslut,” he huffed in your ear. “just can’t stop coming all over my cock, eh? you miss when i turn you into my dumb little whore?”

you tried to reply, but your words slurred and your thoughts were mush. all you could do was moan pathetically as lust speared through you from his words. your head grew so hazy with intensity that the world around you started spinning. you looked like you were in a daze, your face all glossy and sweaty from him fucking your throat so roughly and coming all over your face earlier.

gojo chuckles, harshly slapping your ass and pulling your hips back and forth on his cock. you could hear his animalistic groans and growls filling your ears from how fucking good you felt clenching around him. “i need to hear you say yes. c’mon, kitty. be an obedient slut for me.”

“y— yes, satoru,” you whined, almost squirming in his grasp when he started playing with your clit from behind. “i like— i like being your dumb… little whore…”

gojo can feel his orgasm building inside you as well that he had the urge to pin your head down on the cushions while roughly slapping his hips onto your ass. he loved the way your ass was rippling with every harsh thrust and every harsh slap.

“fuck, cat. i’m gonna come inside your cunt if you keep throbbing on me like that,” he grunted. “will you promise to stop stealing from now on? i’ll give you one more orgasm if you promise for me…”

your back was arched all the way as your moans were muffled by your cushions. you couldn’t stop drooling either that it left a few marks. “i— i promise…! please, please come with me, satoru. come inside me again, i need it…”

the way you kept begging and became so feral had gojo immediately lose himself, shooting hot, sticky white strings of cum into your womb. your cunt couldn’t stop flexing and tightening all over his cock as if you were trying to push him out from such an intense orgasm. sweat was trickling down the both of your skins, bodies flashing hotter than ever as you both collapsed on your cool sofa. gojo laid down on top of you, feeling the rapid beating of his heart and hearing him catching his breath. he looked so adorable that you ran your fingers through his hair, wanting nothing but to indulge in this sweet, intimate moment of cuddling just like old times.

“do you really mean it?” he suddenly murmurs.

“…mean what?”

“you promise you won’t ever steal again?” gojo hovered above you, his expression so profound as he peered deeply into your eyes, like there really was a chance of hope and redemption for you. that was all he ever really wanted; for you to be his partner alongside again, to make you a hero again and utilize your talents for helping people other than yourself.

but then again, you were unpredictable to the spider. there was nothing you loved more than the chase.

“hm. and what if i break that promise?” you smirked. “what are you gonna do if i steal again?”

“then… i’ll just have to tie you up next time and teach you a lesson,” he mirrored your smirk. “but i bet you’d love that, so… maybe i’d have to turn you in, then.”

“i’m kidding satoru. i don’t ever break promises,” you confide, softly caressing his face. “i promise to be by your side and not steal. we can be together just like old times… but only one condition.”

“…which is?”

“spend the nights with me here, satoru,” you whispered fondly. “i don’t wanna be alone every night again.”

gojo planted sweet kisses on your forehead, on both sides of your face, and on your lips, slowly turning into a passionate make-out session. “if that’s what it takes for you to never steal again… i’ll stay with you. promise.”

it was a shame, though. how gullible that spiderman, gojo satoru, could be sometimes. because that following morning when gojo was still sound asleep on your bed, you had to take your leave before the police arrived right at your location where all the missing stuff were hiding. you left a kiss mark on the side of his face with black lipstick and another black cat toy right beside him. as quiet and sneaky you could be, you escaped through your sunroof with a smirk on your face, not looking back on gojo who was soon to be framed for stealing.

#gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru fic #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen smut #spiderman!gojo satoru #black cat!reader #spiderman fic #black cat spiderman

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k-hotchoisan · 5 months

Note

mmmmmm been thinkin abt photographer!san right nd he is know for his boudoir photography but his latest client’s got him in a chokehold like god how is she so fuckin sexy nd he can’t focus at all bc fuck all he wants to do is fuck her senseless— HELP

Your wish is my command Angel! Thank you for being patient 😘

As always, enjoy 🩷

snap.

Synopsis: encouraged by your friend, you give boudoir photography a try after recovering from a break up, you find yourself doing more than just be a model.

Genres/warnings: smut, boudoir photographer!San x model!reader, sexual tension, unprotected sex, cream pies, mention of oral

Taglist: @bro-atz @diamond-3 @mcarebearsstuff @choisansplushie @voicesinmyhead-rc @pre1ttyies

“Boudoir photography?” You reiterate. Your friend nods.

“A friend of a friend of a friend tried it recently and apparently she’s been full of confidence. Her boyfriend adores it too!” Your friend squeals.

You scrunch your eyebrows, wondering how semi-nude photos taken by a professional photographer in this niche would boost one’s confidence.

Your friend’s eyes dart to you again, and then your phone pings. You look at the link your friend sent you. It’s a referral code for a promotion. You turn to her, gaze still dripping with skepticism.

“Come on, just try it. You’re a lovely person and you deserve to see it for yourself! Boudoir photography might really help at not being constantly self critical.”

You weren’t an entirely insecure person, and you were sure of that. It’s just that, after the rough break up with your ex, and seeing them move on instantly (like two fuckin weeks) with a new partner, undoubtedly was a gut punch to your self esteem, while you were still stuck grieving over the lost relationship and wasted time.

You’ve heard of boudoir photography, but you’ve never actually understood the concept of it, considering that it was niche, and that you don’t really know the point of it. You glance down at the referral link before deciding to just fuck it and sign up.

San is working overtime again, meticulously editing and touching up the photos. It’s become a natural part of him to almost be a perfectionist, whether when on the ground taking photos of the model or the post editing process. But he never loses the sight of letting the women shine naturally through their photos. After all, in such a niche market, they picked him. Definitely, he has his mix of male boudoir models, but the women evidently take up a higher ratio. He understands that one of the most important aspects of boudoir photography is trust and comfort with his models, which has them coming back for more sessions, sometimes even with their partners.

Setting up his own business in such a niche market was difficult of course, and he’s grateful that he’s managed to make a name for himself. But sometimes he’s grateful that his good looks are an added bonus to drawing in his clients.

His email pings and it makes him pause his work. Maybe he should finish it tomorrow. San glances at the fresh email that sits in his inbox.

An appointment via referral.

He opens it, and looks through the client’s information. At the bottom box for comments, sits a short question.

[Just wondering, what should I expect for my appointment? Is there anything I should prepare?]

He takes a moment before he drafts a reply.

[Hey there! Nice to meet you. I’m Choi San, boudoir photographer of Woodie’s Studios. First of all, thank you for choosing our studio for your boudoir experience!

Regarding your question, come in with an open mind. For what to wear, you may bring a set of clothes/lingerie of whatever you feel confident in.

I don’t bite, I promise!]

He reads the reply a second time before he hits send. It’s not as if it’s the first time he’s gotten questions like these anyway. His train of concentration is broken, so he decides to call it a night.

You reach the opaque door of a clean-looking studio apartment. The sign has San’s studio name and logo imprinted on it, so you’re sure that you are at the right location.

You press the door bell and it chimes a lovely tune. There is a quiet pause, before the door handle clicks and the door itself pulls back. Before you stood a really, no, an insanely good looking, tall male. His glasses rest loosely on the bridge of his nose as his small eyes meet yours. His brunette hair is slightly messy. He wears an expression of confusion at first, but it turns into something unreadable. You think for a spilt second that he may have gotten the wrong client, but your rationale reminds you that you did send him photos of yourself so he’s able to recognise you. You blink once, then twice because you were starting to get lost at how handsome your photographer was.

“Choi San..?” you say, with a small tilt of your head.

Then it’s his turn to blink, and he snaps out of that small trance he seemed to be caught in for a few seconds. Then a smile tugs at the corner of his lips as he greets you.

“Hey! Y/n right? Sorry, was tryna recognise you. I promise I don’t usually take that long to process”, he chuckles, pulling the door wider as he ushers you in, reminding you to switch out your shoes for the apartment slippers.

The hallway San brings you down is brightly lit and spilt into a couple of sections which you assumed one of them would be the photo studio itself. A couple of posters of pin up girls hang on the walls, all of them beautiful and stunning.

He then stops at a glass door and pushes it, to what you assumed to be his office.

“Make yourself comfortable. I’ll get you a cup of tea. Any preferences?”, he gestures. You shake your head as you let yourself sink into the velvet couch, gingerly leaving your bag of clothing beside you. San gives a polite nod and excuses himself to the pantry.

And the moment the door shuts behind him, he tears his glasses off the bridge of his nose and hooks the branch onto his collar.

His hand is placed over his heart.

San has photographed many different women over the course of his career, some breathtakingly beautiful. But none has ever made his heart skip a beat and caused his words to be stuck at the back of his throat, not like you did. He doesn’t know what has gotten into him. It wasn’t like he didn’t know how you looked like—the pictures you sent served that purpose. Maybe it was the fact that he never expected you to look like that in real life, and for once, he almost doesn’t know how to react. His thoughts are all over the place as he paces into the pantry to prepare your tea. As he’s dipping the tea bag into the piping hot water, he begins feeling self conscious—was his hair too shrivelled? Did he smell bad? Was there something on his face? He tightens his grip on the mug and hastily makes his way back to his office.

San returns, with a smile on his face as he settles the cup onto the coffee table before you, and he joins you, seated on a velvet armchair across you.

“Take your time”, he reassures. “We can start after this, if you’re feeling comfortable, or we can just talk a little to ease your nerves.” It doesn’t take you much to think—you opt for the latter of course.

San laughs and nods. “I get that a lot, especially from first time female clients. It’s valid of course, having a male being your photographer for boudoir can sound off-putting. Perhaps looking at my portfolio might put you slightly at ease?” He reaches out for a large and thick leather-bound photo album. You let it rest on your lap as you receive it with a soft “thank you”, and flip the album open, and you’re instantly awestruck—San’s work spoke for himself. The models were diverse, both in nationalities and body shapes, all equally stunning and sensual in their own expressive ways. The only common denominator was the glint of genuine emotion and confidence reflected in their eyes.

You wonder to yourself—could you look and feel as confident as them? As you skim through the pictures, you feel yourself falling in love with the models as well—their genuine smiles when they do and the gazes they give.

When San catches himself staring at you being absorbed in admiring his portfolios, he feels his cheeks flush and he looks down, wondering what you think of it all.

“I see why you have so many clients. The pictures are gorgeous”, you say, shutting the photo album and handing it back to him. San flashes a sheepish smile and mutters a “thank you” loud enough for you to hear. The silence in the room remains a for awhile as you sip the tea, letting it calm your nerves. You don’t even know it but the person with actual jittery nerves was San himself, a feeling that he never expected to feel since the last time he did was when he started out this business three years ago.

“So… what’s the goal of being a boudoir model, if you don’t mind me asking? Like was it a long time thing you wanted to try or was it something spontaneous?” He asks to break the silence.

“I broke up with my ex recently”, you respond curtly, before taking another sip of the tea. Damn, this is some good ass tea. San blinks at your reply, unsure of what to make out of the bluntness. Before he attempts to reply, you continue, “and my friend sent me a referral to your studio, and I thought to myself, why not? I want to feel confident in my own skin. Also, I think it’s an interesting way of self exploration.” Your gaze meets his, and it’s his turn to look awestruck. You try to ignore the flutter in your chest when he laughs softly, when his smile reaches his eyes. It’s the way that he’s confident of his craft, and it’s making you warm up to him even more.

Your fingertips tap on the mug softly. Your gaze lands on the photobook once more.

“Does taking such risqué pictures affect you when you first started out?” You ask before taking another sip. San ponders about the question for awhile. He has people asking him that before, but for some reason, he wants to be slightly more transparent with you.

“I don’t see about my clients in a sexual way, even if they physically look appealing to me. In the end, self confidence and comfort always comes first, and I think that’s what I enjoy seeing in my clients when they become more comfortable in their own skin. People don’t understand how difficult it is to fully love yourself”, he replies.

That’s when you understand why San’s photography studio had so many recurring clients.

“Why boudoir? I think sensuality and intimacy is a form of art. It’s beautiful—watching people discover parts of themselves they never knew existed and falling in love. You don’t have to be conventionally attractive to be a boudoir model.

The money’s good, of course, but the satisfaction of watching my clients giving me feedback of them realising they deserve to love themselves more, or discovering other sides of themselves is nothing short of rewarding.”

By the time he’s done explaining, you feel a rush of confidence in yourself. It’s only been about ten minutes since the both of you just sat and talked, but you see that he definitely prioritises your comfort before he even begins the sessions. You ball your fingers into a fist, meeting San’s gaze with determination, telling him, “I think I’m ready.”

San’s eyes brighten up. “Great! You can use the bathroom to the left, and I’ll meet you at the photo studio just opposite the office.” He stands up, opening the door for you, and you bow slightly in courtesy as you head to the washroom to change. San’s heart beats faster, wondering what you’re gonna wear for the shoot.

San is fixing the sheets of the bed, then the studio lights at the perfect angle he wants it to be. His heart is still racing as he walks over to the tripod, glancing over at the door from time to time, awaiting for your arrival.

He perks up when he sees you walk in with a bathrobe on and he greets you cheerfully again, trying to hide his excitement.

You wave back with a smile, letting the environment of the photo studio sink in. The basic package for first timers consisted of a bed shoot, so it’s no surprise you see a bed in the middle of the room, covered in white. The bed looks comfy and you giggle to yourself, wondering if you’d end up falling asleep mid-shoot from how nice the bed looks.

“Anytime you’re ready”, San reminds you, carrying the tripod in one hand, his biceps flexing as he does, and it makes you blush slightly, which was ridiculous. Why are you swooning over your handsome photographer carrying the tripod with one arm? Suddenly you’re self conscious again, your fingers clutching against the black bathrobe. It was frustrating that you couldn’t pinpoint exactly what was making you nervous, but you weren’t about to back out.

San continues to adjust his camera on the tripod, and his gaze absentmindedly shifts towards you, and his breath gets stuck in his throat, watching you undress from the bathrobe, revealing a white button up over black lace lingerie. It’s not anything new, but for some reason he can’t seem to tear his eyes off you—the way the panties hugs your hips and the bra cups your breasts, the garter belt hugging your waist and the straps hanging past your panties. He watches you climb onto the bed, eyes shutting briefly as you sink into the mattress with a soft smile.

He’s not confident that he’s able to last through the shoot, not when you’re looking like that.

“Is it too cold here?” San asks, trying to divert his attention from his perverse thoughts. You pop up from the sheets, the collars of the shirt slipping past your shoulders, obviously too big for you. That does nothing to help him with his thoughts.

“No, I think the temperature’s okay. Shall we get started?” You ask, buttoning up your shirt, the white material pathetically sheer that San is able to see the black bra peeking through.

The sight of you in an oversized shirt on, with no pants, just your underwear on is like a meal for San’s eyes. He hides behind the camera to hide his flushing cheeks, only to face your body through the viewfinder, watching you preparing to pose as you position yourself at the end of the bed, turning your body slightly to the side with one leg up, your thighs in full view, with the sleeves of the shirt covering most of your fingers, and your gaze right into the camera lens.

San takes a deep breath. Forty five minutes. He can do this.

“Sure. Ready whenever you are, y/n.”

It turns out to be a very agonising forty five minutes. While the both of you were cracking jokes during the shoot, San finds himself getting more distracted when you gradually remove your shirt, and when your poses grow ever more risqué—at one point you remove your bra and fit your shirt over again, which definitely made San grow very restless when he’s unable to tear his eyes away from your bare chest.

Midway through the shoot, all that swarms his mind is wondering how your body would feel against his, how your bare skin would feel under his hands, what kind of faces you would make when you’re under him.

What kind of noises you would make for him when he fits his cock right into you. He wants to fuck you so hard that your mind goes blank—so good that you’ll never remember your ex.

San blinks, his finger still on the shutter button. He doesn’t know what washed over him, but what he does know is the taut feeling in his pants, and he internally heaves a sigh of relief that he decided to wear cargo pants. Nonetheless, he hopes that it isn’t obvious. Well, it shouldn’t be, as long as you don’t ask for close up shots.

“San! Could you come closer for my close ups?” You call out, letting the collar of your shirt fall off your shoulder once more, revealing your bare shoulders, and reminding him that you were still braless underneath the loose clothing article.

Fuck.

San forces a smile, unlatching his camera and trying to walk normally without letting his erection steal your attention.

He reaches to where you are, reminding himself to stay professional, but when he meets your playful gaze, all he wants to do is pin you down. Your eyes twinkle with allure as you prepare your next pose. You get it now—the confidence that slowly trickles into you after every photo taken. You’ve never realised that you had this side of yourself, not until now, and you love it.

The close up shots only spell another layer of doom for San—he adores the budding confidence that you exude, but it makes it even harder for him to hold back, watching you make sultry expressions and poses close up. Through the viewfinder, his eyes try to focus on taking the photo but he finds himself being entranced by your stare. He counts down, then taking a few shots, not missing the growing smile you had.

San puts his camera away, reaching forward to your face to remove a stray hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear, and his touch is warm on your face. It’s then you realise how physically close San is to you—you smell his cologne and it leaves your mind blank for a spilt second. He’s absorbed in fixing your hair, combing the strays off your face, the sound of his quiet breathing the only thing you hear. You look away, wondering if your heartbeat is loud enough for him to hear, and you hope it isn’t. San gives you a soft smile when his eyes finally meet yours.

He pulls back, preparing to take his camera for the next shot, but his leg gets tangled in the sheets.

Everything happens in a spilt second—his knee that shifts forward at first, pressing against the sheet that has unknowingly tangled around his other leg, then San trying to get up quickly with the tangled leg, realising a little too late by the time he falls right onto the bed.

Right onto you.

He almost squishes you. Almost. But he lands above you, supported by his elbows just in time before his body is in contact with yours.

Your heart races, way too quick for you to even process what just occurred. All knew you was:

One; San is right above you,

Two; his lips are hovering over yours,

Three; you feel something pressing against your pelvis.

And San stares down at you, his heart beating in his ears. He takes in the sight of you below him—eyes looking up at him through fluttered lashes, your heat radiating against his skin, your lips slightly parted in surprise.

As well as the strain in his pants when his eyes instinctively lower to your bare chest, your nipples peeking through your shirt, and that his little problem is just resting right on you.

“I’m sorry”, San whispers, breaking the silence that had hung between the both of you. “This usually doesn’t happen…”

You crack an amused smile. “Usually?”you reiterate teasingly. A tint of red flushes San’s cheeks and his clothed erection presses harder against your bare skin, and it makes you bite your lip.

“Fuck. I mean, this never happens. It’s just.. I’ve never felt this way about my boudoir models…”, he trails off. “I think you’re fucking stunning since you entered the studio, and I think you’re even more stunning now.”

Your heart flutters at his confession and this time, you feel yourself blush. A soft laugh escapes from the male above you when he sees you avoid eye contact from the shyness. His strings of rationale—yelling at him to stay professional—is snapping. He’s not lying. He’s never felt so attracted to any of his models before, until you, and now that he has you trapped under him, he doesn’t want to lose that chance.

“Should we end the session here?” San asks, with a quick glance at your pretty red lips.

Your fingers are playing with the dangling silver chain that he wears. He lets you, waiting for your response before he catches your gaze dances back to meet his again. Your hands shift to caress San’s jaw, and he takes it as a sign to make his move. You inhale softly as you feel his lips press onto yours, and it makes your head spin with glee. He tastes so heavenly, and your legs clench at the feeling that flutters between your thighs.

San slightly presses his body weight onto you, his erection only growing harder against your thigh. But it looks like he’s taking his time.

His fingertips warm your skin, and he lets them slip up your body, until he’s at your chest, barely covered by the sheer cotton material. His thumbs grazes against your nipples, and you gasp in between open mouthed kisses. You feel him smile, and he applies pressure, and the sensation goes right to your pussy.

He pulls back, watching your lip stick smudged, and your eyes dilate. You can’t help but feel entranced by San, and now you’re wondering how his face would look like when he falls apart.

And it makes you excited.

San lulls you back from your thoughts when you feel his lips suck softly against your neck, and now your fingers are playing with his soft locks of hair.

He’s slightly embarrassed at the way he’s growing even harder when he gingerly peels the white shirt away. His hands cup your bare tits, and he lowers himself to your left tit, giving it a couple of hungry licks and sucks, leaving your back arching and your mouth agape from how ticklish his tongue feels as he flicks your nipple. He doesn’t neglect the other nipple, giving it the same attention as he relishes in the way you fall apart for him. When he has his fun of sucking and making sure your nipples swell while you moan and tug his hair, he pulls away.

He sits up, pulls his shirt over his head and you’re left drooling at how chiseled his body looks. San unbuttons his pants and yanks it off, alongside his boxers, and you watch with awe as his cock springs out—hard and heavy against his abdomen. Your panties are tugged off you in no time, and you don’t miss the way his cock twitches when his eyes land on your slick covered cunt.

“You’re gonna be the death of me”, you hear him mutter before he collides his lips against yours once more. You squeal when you feel his fingers press onto your clit, giving it small rubs, watching and soaking your reactions—your whines and whimpers. There is a dull buzz in your mind every time your bundle of nerves get stimulated, and it builds up in your tummy.

“Oh god, you’re getting even wetter”, he sighs, his fingers completely soaked.

“It feels good. So good. Keep doing that”, you whisper, your fingers pressing against his arm. Your moans only grow louder as San picks up the speed on rubbing your clit, and it’s sending you over the edge way quicker than you wanted to.

San lowers himself to your head, and his husky voice vibrates in your ears.

“That’s it, keep coming undone. Let your mind shut off. You look so fucking beautiful like that.”

“San, San, fuck. I’m gonna cum. Oh fuck-“

Your eyes roll back as your orgasm washes over you, your body tensing as pleasure becomes the only thing you know. You barely catch onto the dirty things San is telling you, but you know he’s encouraging you to cum on his fingers like a good girl.

He makes sure he has your orgasm drawn out as long as possible, your mind completely blown out at that point. San sucks off your arousal on his fingers, before giving his cock a few pumps.

“You taste like heaven, babe. I’ll get a taste of that cunt soon, but right now, I really can’t wait”, San huffs, trying to keep himself composed as he slowly fucks his hand.

“San, hurry up, please. I need you, so fucking bad”, you whine, your fingers pulling your wet folds open for him.

His breathing goes heavy at your words. “Damn, the shoot really got you heated,” San teases.

“I can’t help it if my photographer makes me wet”, you reply with a playful smile.

Something seems to snap in San when he hears that—all he’s thinking about is wanting to drive his cock so deep into you that your mind completely blanks out.

So that’s what he does.

San lines up his cock to your entrance and pushes and inch in. His eyes dart to your face, licking the bottom of his lip when he watches your face contort into pleasure. His hands stroke your thighs as he pushes in a couple more inches, soaking in your broken moans as he stretches you out. He forces himself to stay composed despite the fact that you’re squeezing him with your warm and soft walls.

He manages to bury himself right to the hilt and he gasps at how perfectly fitted his cock is in you, an uncontrollable moan escaping his lips when he feels you convulse around his cock.

“San, you’re so big. I’m so filled”, you whimper through glazed eyes, his cock completely cutting off other senses as your thighs tremble. A smile tugs at his lips.

“I’m gonna fuck you now, pretty”, San tells you. Despite that, he waits for your green signal before he pulls out and drives his cock right into you.

Your mind switches off the moment his cock is fucking your pussy, because that’s all that matters. It’s so good. So fucking good.

His hands slither to your wrists, and has them pinned over your head as his cock pistons into you. You swear he’s driving you to be cock dumb by the end of this, but not like you fucking minded anyway.

“Look at you. Growing stupid over my cock already. So fucking adorable.”

You only nod in reply, biting your lip as his cock continues to render you speechless. Now San has completely flooded into the smallest crooks of your mind. San has his mind blank, his eyes darting from your fucked out expression to your bouncing tits.

Your cunt flutters once again and tears are pooling at the corner of eyes. The sounds of wet skin slapping echo around the studio.

“…wanna touch you”, you mutter. Despite the face that you loved that he was holding you down, you are feeling desperate to feel his skin as you dance on the fence of your orgasm. San releases your wrists, and he props himself better as he continues to pound into you, hitting the soft, spongy spot over and over again when he has your legs folded. When his pulls out, his cock is covered in a creamy mess. His head spins and his ego inflates at the thought him being the one who drove you to this point of mind blanking pleasure.

“No, no, I’m gonna cum again. So good. San!” His name leaving your lips as a whine. Your hands are gripping onto the loose unbuttoned sleeves of your shirt. His hands take yours and places them on his on his sides, and he groans at the way you’re clawing him.

“Shit. Fuck!” San curses when you cream on his cock even more on top of your walls hugging him tightly. You let go on his cock with a pleasured sob, legs twitching.

It’s not long before a long drawn out moan San releases as his warm cum completely floods your tight hole. He swears he wants to keep his cock tucked in your pussy because it feels that fucking good.

His face—oh, his fucking face when he orgasms. You barely recover from your second orgasm to watch San fall apart while he empties in your pussy, and it almost drives you to your third orgasm. Almost.

The both of you remain still for a moment, only breathing filling in the silence. Then, San slowly pulls out, watching the way his cum leaks out of your abused hole.

San pulls back, and he realises that he’s never seen a more beautiful sight—you, splayed out in nude, only covered by a measly white shirt that inevitably drives him crazy, with cum leaking out of your pretty hole while your body twitches against the white sheets.

He thinks that it’s a pity that his camera is out of reach, because it’s such a beautiful shot.

You glance at San with a shy smile as he hands you your panties. He hooks the your legs into the panties and pulls it up to your hips. You feel another load stain your panties while your thighs twitch.

San dresses himself quickly and extends his arm for you to take as he leads you off the bed. He knows he’s got extra work to wash the sheets but that’s the least of his worries.

What throws you off is when he pulls you into his arms and kisses your temple.

“I promise I’ve never done to any of my clients”, he reiterates.

“Unprofessional”, you tease, your hands sneaking up his shirt.

“Can’t fucking help it. I never knew fucking an Angel in my studio would be this exhilarating. It makes the thought of washing the bedsheets bearable”, he teases back, letting his fingers tangle in your hair.

Your mind goes completely blank when he tells you to wash out the loads in you, so he’ll fill you up once more when he brings you home, which earns him a slap on the chest. He gestures you to go change up, watching the way you remove your shirt to reveal your bare back, and he makes a mental note to start fucking you from behind.

And back at his place, he does. His eyes are hyper focused on the way your ass bounces on his cock. A loud slap reverberates in his room followed by a whimper.

He stills in you, spilling his load once more into your abused cunt as you cream all over him once again.

Then he has you wrapped up in his arms, peppering you with kisses as you’re teetering off your high.

“Stay over, won’t you?”, San requests, tucking a lock of hair behind your ears. You’re beginning to feel completely enamoured by the male. You nod as you melt into his arms.

San thinks it’s ridiculous how hard and fast he fell for you, but he’s confident that you’re his favourite model, ever.

#ateez #ateez scenarios #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez smut #smut #ateez fic #kpop smut #choi san smut #Choi san #San ateez #ateez san #choi san ateez #ateez choi san #choi san x reader #cultofdionysusnet

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iceunhie · 5 months

Text

JEALOUSY IS A FICKLE THING...

ft. al-haitham, ayato, wriothesley, lyney

warnings : gender neutral, jealousy, mentions of suggestive content on wriothesley's part, established relationship, you are wriothesley's spouse. erm slight dark content but it's okay it isn't implied, we need more men like them in the world

mhie's notes : i used the wheel randomizer for this i hope everyone's proud i write for anyone other than scara ijbol

al-haitham’s jealousy is muted; quiet and hardly noticeable, often non-existent unless you have the fortune of knowing him deeply enough (kaveh). make no mistake, al-haitham trusts you, he simply doesn’t trust those that make moves on you when he was clearly right there. when some bothersome person disrupts you both on a simple date, which is already a clear red warning sign, for the acting grand sage hardly has any time to spare; naturally, his reaction would be to put a complete stop to any and all the flirty remarks towards you with a flat tone.

it’s not the content of the words that make the person making a move on you leave, but the slight menacing edge to al-haitham’s voice, a sign that if they do intend to cross the line more than necessary, he won’t just be using his words.

most would back off after a simple talking-to, but in the case that person doesn’t cease their advance, you can best bet your lover is steering you away immediately. dendro archon forbid they touch you or make you uncomfortable in the slightest, though, or else al-haitham has no qualms contacting the matra or taking matters in his own hands, but this scenario hardly happens often, given his seamless ability to get to the heart of the conflict and uprooting it so that no problems arise.

he’d most likely opt to diffuse the situation by straight-up telling any admirer of yours that you were taken and most definitely not up for grabs.

“they are my lover. since you’re clearly crossing their preferred boundaries and seem ignorant of the fact, i’d advise you to stop making them feel any more uncomfortable.”

though it’s truly difficult to get al-haitham jealous due to the excellent control of his emotions, tempered by his rational thinking, the most you can see of it is how he seems to stay closer to you than usual and the simple but firm link of your fingers as you both continue on your days.

(but if you notice him putting a subtle hand on your waist as you both walk, do try not to comment on it, will you?)

for ayato… er, why have you even bothered? if one even has the nerve to flirt and court the yashiro commissioner’s own partner, then that’d make you either not inazuman, or simply an idiot. it’s no exaggeration, but a simple fact. ayato is by no means a jealous man, but he doesn’t like seeing those not worthy of you hover around you with such impure and unwelcome intentions, so he tells ayaka and thoma, but really, he just wants to call the shuumatsuban on any who dares to even look at you the wrong way.

he bides his time well, approaching your admirer with a genial smile and elegant composure and indulges in small talk, but there’s a chill in the air and the looming feeling of doom as well as his smile that seems to see through any and all actions. its terrifying, really.

it also doesn’t help that he’d be extremely touchy in these moments, seeking to link arms with you and yes, even going as far as to rest his head on your shoulder, a clear indication of exactly how close you two really are. after you introduce him as your lover, at this point, it’s likely that the person making a move on you would back off and run away immediately, for how could they even dare to compete when it’s the yashiro commissioner himself who they’re facing?

he’d gloat silently afterwards in the comfort of his own quarters though, the sight of your admirer cowering like a dog getting cornered by a wolf, ah, truly satisfying. though thoma would eventually tell him to tone down the ‘borderline evil chuckling.’

“my love, have you been well? hm? the change of topic? ah, well, as the saying goes; ‘out of sight, out of mind,’ yes? no need to think about those that’ll only bother you. now, come here, there’s a new hotpot ingredient i’d like you to try… haha, relax, it isn’t dango this time.”

another one with a terrifying reputation and terrifying influence to make even the most daring of your admirers quake in their boots. wriothesley is amused - he gets that there’s hardly any window for romance in such a dreary place like the fortress, but even going as far as to court the duke of meropide’s own spouse? really funny, honestly.

but after the initial wave of amusement, he does take this time to immediately show off his status as your husband, showing off the matching wedding rings and even having the well-deserved nerve to smile and continue on rambling about your marriage, which is clearly a very happy one, judging by the way he presses a lingering kiss to your cheek while maintaining clear eye contact towards the person.

you’d have to wrangle in your husband when you both sleep tonight though, because wriothesley has made it his personal mission for any and all those who wish to covet you to show them that you were his spouse, and no other held your heart or your affections. when morning rises the next day, you promptly leave with a very visible bruise on your neck, and an especially relaxed and happy duke at your heels. most would look away in embarrassment, including your admirers, so that’s that.

“hah, that'll show any of those who have way too much time on their hands to lay their hands off my spouse. what? too brutal? well, sweetheart, what did you expect?”

oh my god lyney. haiz this enigmatic magician… magicians are all about masterfully weaving lies and illusions in order to perform to the top standard, and it's no surprise lyney also uses such methods when dealing with any and all annoyances in your relationship. he can be perfectly fine on the outside, but he has always been good with keeping his more sinister and less than socially acceptable side in check.

in fact, chances are he’d probably charm away your admirer with his own tricks; a wink their way and honeyed suave words to ease their love-struck heart and in seconds your admirer is up and away, promising to leave.

this often gets you disgruntled and in awe of his ‘performance,’ but lyney will always stave off your complaints or questions with a rainbow rose or some other fancy trick of his up his sleeve and guide you away, person courting you forgotten. all according to plan….

in all honesty, lyney isn't as composed about it as he seems. lynette can see it at a glance after you two have separated after the encounter. it shows in the way he broods silently for some time, preferring to divert the attention of such a sore subject away and going about endlessly about what new gifts he might give you or what seat was best for viewing, read: what seat was closest to him, for that matter. her brother was truly such a pain in the neck, and lynette does thank you for making him happy, but really, at this rate, you'd drive him insane by how much sway you hold over him.

“and just a trick of the light here and-! ta-da! a rainbow rose, symbolizing just how much i do adore you, way more than any other! …so don't try to pay attention to them, okay? after all, you've already caught this magician’s eye and heart~”

he can still be pouty and extremely clingy after the encounter though, which carries on whenever he performs any of his shows, where lyney always, always makes one of his acts feature you, be it a simple guess your card trick or his favorite, the one act where he leads you to land up on stage and give him a kiss based on the card’s instructions, it's all to show just how wrong anyone else other than him would make you as elated as lyney does.

@ MHIIEEE 2023 : do not copy, repost or plagiarize my work.

btw can you tell i had fun writing for al-haitham despite the fact that i have never even been remotely interested in him in the entirety of the game

#mhie's spirals #astronetwrk #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #al haitham x reader #lyney x reader #wriothesley x reader #kamisato ayato x reader #ayato x reader #al haitham #lyney genshin

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tojipie · 6 months

Note

crybaby reader! but it isn’t toji who makes her upset, it’s someone else maybe some guy at her college how would toji react?

i honestly want to dedicate a proper blocked off chunk of my masterlist to this pairing :(( this is for the extreme social anxiety girlies who can only ever be around their boyfies (me)

content: hurt/comfort, fluff, severely introverted reader, anxiety

every hour spent in this class was more time to yourself to mull over why you’d let toji convince you to take an in-person course for once.

you’d gotten through college just fine these past few semesters, sitting through your lectures from the comfort of your living room. most of your school day was spent cuddled up with your back pressed to your boyfriend’s chest, where you were safe.

you liked your routine, you craved order. there was nothing wrong with doing school online, in fact, you much preferred it that way over making the infuriating commute to school every morning.

toji had liked your routine just fine too, boasting about how nice it was to have you at home. that was until you started to let yourself go, slacking off during class to make yourself snacks, take showers, and nap on the couch.

that’s eventually why—much to your chagrin— toji convinced you to sign up for an in-person course to help you get your momentum back.

you were hesitant at first, blown completely out of the water by his outlandish request.

“just one day a week,” he pleaded, petting over the crown of your head in reassurance. “just one day to get a little fresh air, make some friends. don’t that sound fun?”

“i’m not gonna make any friends,” you explained bitterly, stomach already cramping with distaste at the thought of being forced to take the time out of your day to make your commute and spend 2 hours in a 30-person classroom every wednesday. people your age were cruel, you’d learned that very early on.

you knew it was unhealthy, squeezing your bubble this tight until you and toji were the only ones that could fit in it. was it really that bad to protect your peace though? you trusted toji, and he was better than anyone at showing you how loved you were—in his own way of course.

you don’t say anything the day you press “enroll” on your school portal, feeling your boyfriend rub both hands up and down your sides in silent support. in fact, you’d secretly been the slightest bit excited at the change in scenery, ready to consider expanding that little bubble of yours.

keyword, consider. you were considering it right up until your first group assignment.

the stranger—your partner for the day, looks you up and down for only a moment, awkwardly turning to tap his friend behind him.

“switch with me,” he mutters, already grabbing his bag to leave your table with a sigh of relief.

the humiliation that settles deep within your bones is excruciating. you feel hot all over, suddenly conscious of every breath you take, how your chest shudders as you try not to cry. had he already decided he wanted nothing to do with you based on one look?

the girl he switches with isn’t much of an improvement, spending the majority of class on her phone while you work quietly on your laptop. you hear her laugh once or twice, too scared to look up and see if the giggling was at your expense.

you slink out of the room forty-five minutes early, unbeknownst to the people around you.

this was such a big mistake.

˚ ✧ ───

toji freezes the second you start to blubber into the swell of his chest, holding his thin work shirt in your quivering fists.

“what is it baby?” he whispers, bringing a large hand up to pet over the crown of your head. “you trip in the elevator again?”

“no,” you sniffle, embarrassedly wiping hot tears with your jacket sleeve. you didn’t want to talk about it, didn’t feel like enduring another wave of embarrassment lest you relive the events from today.

the older man realizes the source of your tears, choosing his next words with caution.

“didn’t like class today?” he asks, fiddling with a strand of your hair absentmindedly.

“not going back,” you mumble, untangling yourself from his limbs to set your bag down on the couch. you sprawl out on the piece of furniture, exhausted beyond belief.

you tell him what had happened in the hours prior, pausing a few times to will away oncoming tears. toji kisses away each salty droplet, mouthing at your neck to coax an unexpected fit of laughter from you.

“you send in that project yet?” he asks, thumbing at the seam of your shirt.

“not yet, why?”

“bring it here.”

you oblige, curious.

the older man flips through the slides until he gets to the title page, highlighting your “partner’s” name and clicking the backspace with enthusiasm.

“there you go sugar,” he smiles, pulling you into his lap to let you get a better look. “you’re gonna go to that class and you’re gonna get the credit you deserve, okay?”

you truly hadn’t thought of it that way, intertwining your fingers as toji submits the project for you. was standing up for yourself really that simple?

tears start to well behind your lashes for the umpteenth time that day, reducing you to mush as the raven-haired man pulls you flush with his chest.

“thank you,” you mumble. he knows what you mean without you having to explain, wishing you wouldn’t thank him for the bare minimum.

toji fiddles with each of your smaller fingers as you drift asleep against him, too overwhelmed by the onslaught of emotions to stay awake any longer.

he whispers sweet promises to you as your mind walks the right rope between consciousness and dreamland, telling you how he’ll hold your hand on every walk to the train station from now until the last day of the semester.

and you don’t think you’ve ever felt this safe in your life.

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voxisdaddy · 2 months

Text

Sweets

C/TW: Mentions of sex but otherwise nothing bad.

Nah but imagine Vox knowing you have a crush on him and he’s thinking like, yeah I could take advantage of this—meaning ‘hell yeah I get laid and an attractive partner? Sign me up’. Regardless of what your relationship with him is, he is interested and down to fuck and have a possible sexual relationship with you from here on out. So he makes his move by inviting you to his personal living quarters in the Vee Tower. You walk in, heart fluttering about at the prospect your crush wanting to spend time with you, and are quickly met with Vox. He of course puts the moves on you; charming smirk, the correct choice of words, arm wrapping around your hips or your waist as he pulls you in closer to him. He hints at something—a burning desire. You’re flustered in his arms. He’s thinking, yeah he’s got this in the bag. But then you push on his chest and unwrap yourself from his arm. Wait what? “Vox,”—You’d start, “I’m flattered but…I’m not that kind of person.” You then excuse yourself and before Vox knows it, he’s standing alone in his living quarters. You’re into him? He knows this. What happened? Despite his annoyances with the results, he still persists. He spends the next several weeks trying to seduce you, flirting with you very sexually—not Valentino level but still sexually charged. Yet every time he gets shot down. One day he’s ranting to Velvette about it to which she rolls her eyes and scoffs, “Is sex the only thing you can think about?” Velvette whips out her phone, pulling up your social media pages, all your likes, comments, reposts, music playlists, shows and movies you watch, ect,. “They’re a romantic—A fucking sweet one at that. Taking advantage of their feelings just so you can get your dick wet whenever you want isn’t gonna get you anywhere, darling.” Vox spends a few days thinking it over. Okay so a more romantic approach. But he tried inviting you over! He even set the mood and everything. Though it was with the hope that…it would quickly lead to having you naked on his bed. He probably has some sort of mental war with himself about it too. Like why’s he trying so hard? It isn’t until he spots you on one of his cameras where he realizes he may want something much more than just sex with you. But is it too late? Did all his attempts at wooing you really scare you away? He watched with bated breath as you sat on a water fountain, gingerly typing away on your phone. You were wearing the loveliest looking spring dress/shirt. You looked so…beautiful. So sweet. So innocent. And romantic. A type of romance that seemed like it didn’t exist in hell. He was so mesmerized he didn’t even realize a second figure coming to sit next to you. He only realized when you put your phone down and smiled sweetly at the person. Who was this person? Why are you so close together? Why do you look like you’re blushing—? Oh. It’s a date.

As a hopeless romantic, reading Vox x Reader fics and so many of them having some kind of sexual undertone or more mature tone makes me kind of sad. I truly love tooth rotting fluffy romance. Think—picnic in a cherry blossom field while wearing the strawberry dress. So I wanted to write a little (not so little, it kinda got away from me) imagine where Vox’s idea of romance clashes with readers and it ends up only pushing them away. So yeah. Here’s that. I mean no disrespect to everyone’s fics of them tho—trust me they’re delicious in every way possible but I just really need to feed my hopeless sweet romantic side for a bit <3

#hazbin hotel #x reader #vox #hazbin hotel vox x reader #vox x reader #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel x reader #fluff #kinda angsty #I really wanted a more sweet fun innocent love okay lol #in my delusions he calls me sweetheart

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feyreswaterybowels · 2 months

Text

⭒The Silent One⭒

#1 Azriel x Fem!OC

⭒Part 1⭒Part 2⭒Part 3⭒Part 4⭒

Word Count: 4k

Summary: Velaris was home to many pleasure houses but when the high lord learns the owners of these houses aren’t abiding bu long reigning laws he and his inner circle steps in—in the process taking in an Illyrian female that had been abused and tormented.

Warnings/Tags: mute character. slow burn romance. trauma. sexual abuse. found family. building romance/trust after trauma. violence. strong female character. protective!azriel. protective!IC.

Authors Note: All likes, re blogs and comments are welcome, appreciated and highly encouraged! Let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list for the next part! Bold italics are mental communication, regular italics are inner thoughts.

⋆ ݁⟡ ݁☾ ݁⟡ ݁⋆

The smell of smoke was thick in the air. The floor was wet, the air moist and chilled. The building Azriel and Cassian just entered was one of the many pleasure houses in Velaris. This was no ordinary visit for pleasure. No. They were on a mission per their High Lord’s command.

The Velvet Pearl was a pleasure house where those who entered could pay for sexual services. Men and women alike were welcome and the Pearl was known to have anything a person was looking for—whether that be a specific species, body type, hair color, skin color or a specific act. It could all be found here. The Mistresses made it their job to comb through the streets looking for those who would enjoy the work.

That’s what led their mission here tonight. Pleasure houses are no secret in Velaris. They are out in the open. There can be one found for many vices. Gambling, dancing, drinking and of course sex. There aren’t many rules for these houses by the High Lords command, but a big one had been broken recently.

Consent.

The law of consent in these pleasure houses is major, one of the most important to the High Lord, Rhysand, and the ones before him. One cannot force another to drink. One cannot force another to gamble. Once cannot force another into sexual acts. Any person visiting or working at these establishments must be there of their own free will.

With the pleasure houses specifically this rule had been broken when one of Azriel’s spies fled into Rhysand office, informing him of many pleasure houses buying fae citizens off of families who needed money. The high lord was shocked, they hadn’t had any issues like this in centuries. He immediately summoned his inner circle looking to them for advice.

That’s how Azriel and Cassian ended up here now. They, and a few other soldiers, were to patrol the pleasure houses for the next few night. Look and listen for any signs that confirm the information given to them.

The Velvet Pearl was a very niche business. A large luxurious building, mirrors lined the outside walls reflecting the beauty of Velaris on the outside. The inside however was lined and decorated in blacks, red, green and golds. The lights were low and colorful. A huge bar with various types of wines, liquors, spirits and beers. They always had heavy music playing. Poles and stages for the workers to dance on. On the upper most floors were doors lining the walls. Private rooms that could be paid for and used for the services.

However, the luxury ended when one entered the Dungeon as they called it. A fitting name for the place they had just entered. The place where one picked their partner for the night. Caged cells lined the room and sat atop one another zig-zagging around the room like a maze. Males and females, mostly lesser fae but some high fae as well, a few different species. All naked. All pressed against the bars of their enclosures. Heavy lidded eyes trained on the two massive Illyrian warriors before them. Reaching out to touch, but not actually touching, they all knew better than to touch anyone who doesn’t explicitly ask for it. Some of them, however, touched one another through the bars, enticing a buyer to take them both for the night.

“I’m really good at wing play, I’ll make you cum in less than a minute,” A pretty fae, purred. Lesser fae Azriel noted, long dark hair curled around her perky breasts, skin a dark blue with eyes to match. She was definitely attractive.

“Sorry, I prefer it to last a little longer than that,” Cassian winked at her, getting a giggle in return. Azriel rolled his eyes but a barely there grin that only his brother would notice played on his lips.

They continued on. Looking at every fae in the room. Analyzing them, reading their body language making sure they truly wanted to be here. These fae, as they should, all seem to love their job. That’s how it should be. It’s when they got to the end of the line, nearly out of the room that things took a turn.

A cell that was previously empty was now occupied by a female and a mistress—mistresses only accompanied new workers. A snap echoed through the space and the two warriors shared a look before walking over. Both hiding their shock at the sight in front of them.

There pressed against the back of the cage was a female, not just any female though. Her eyes were wide as she watched them approach. Eyes scanning their wings, siphons and weapons. Pushing herself into the corner and trying to cover her nakedness with her hands. Another snap echoed, her hands dropping to the side as she cried out when the mistress struck her thigh again.

“No need for that,” Azriel growled. His shadows raced around him, curling around his ear to whisper to him.

Glamor. The female is glamored. They hiss.

He gave Cassian a side eye before locking eyes with the mistress.

“Remove her glamor,” Azriel ordered. The mistress blanched, eyes wide in shock.

“I don’t know what you’re—”

“Do we need to tell Thane you don’t know how to follow orders?” Cassian snarled. She gave a meek head shake.

“As you wish,” She said before waving her hand, the glamor shimmering away leaving both men there shocked at the sight in front of them.

Azriel heard Cassian's intake of breath. Hidden behind that glamor was a pair of Illyrian wings, bound behind her in a way that was obviously very uncomfortable with the way they twitched and shifted in their bindings.

“Remove her binding as well. Do you know what can happen to Illyrian wings if they stay bound like that?” Cassian said, arms crossing over his chest in an attempt to not rip the bars from the cage. The bound female looks between the two men, cautious and weary as the Mistress narrows her eyes.

“She’s unclipped and doesn’t know how to control them. We bound them so she doesn’t hurt herself or someone else,” the Mistress explained, but it wasn’t the right answer to give.

“Unbind her now,” Azriel ordered, his voice a booming echo in the room, it was not a question. The Mistress understood that tone, turning to the female, grabbing her roughly and turning her. She cut the rope and the wings instantly sagged, finding relief outside of the bindings.

“See, she can’t even hold them up,” the Mistress snapped, pushing the female back against the wall.

“She can’t hold them up because the muscles have been weakened due to lack of use caused by binding them,” Cassin snarled right back, satisfaction coiling in him at the way she flinched away. “How the hell did you acquire an Illyrian female without even knowing anything of their basic anatomy?”

The Mistress glared at him again. “She was sold to us unsullied by a third party. Half Illyrian, half high fae. Her father gambled away all of their money, he was in debt and sold his daughter off to pay his debts.”

“The purchasing of females to work in pleasure houses is illegal. You are in direct violation of breaking that law,” Azriel spoke, staring the woman down. “Open the cage. She’s coming with us.”

The cage opens and Cassian gestures for the mistress to exit the space. She looks at the female before reluctantly stepping out. Azriel steps but keeps his distance.

“I’m Azriel. What is your name?” He asked, catching her green eyes that almost seemed to glow in the dim lights.

“Don’t bother. She’s had her tongue removed,” the Mistress answered, mouth snapping shut when Cassian’s head snapped in her direction.

Azriel growls low in his throat, but stops himself when he catches the look on the female's face in front of him. Terrified. She was absolutely terrified.

“It’s okay,” he offered softly, stepping further into the cage “cover yourself.”

She looked at him skeptically. Weary. Cautious. She glances at the stick the mistress leaned against the wall then down at her red streaked, bruised thighs. She was scared he was going to hit her if she covered herself. He silently ordered one of his shadows to remove the stick from the room. Rhysand would definitely be hearing about that.

“No further harm will come to you, please, cover yourself,” Azriel soothed, shifting so she was out of view of the horrible Mistress behind him.

She watched him for a second before she dropped her head down and slowly folded her wings around herself, effectively covering her body.

“Have you ever winnowed before?” Azriel asked, watching her brows furrow. “Don’t be scared. I need to touch you but I’m only going to wrap my arm around you okay?”

The female was hesitant, but took a step forward. Those two men were terrifying, but they never looked away from her face unlike every other male who only stared at her body. Maybe wherever they were going to take her would be better than this place.

Azriel outstretched his hand, watched her eyes track the movement and take in his scars and siphons. Though she still seemed terrified she shifted in a way that he could easily wrap his arm around her back.

“You’re coming with us, too,” Cassian snarls to the Mistress, grabbing her before slapping his hand down onto Azriel’s shoulder.

⋆ ݁⟡ ݁☾ ݁⟡ ݁⋆

One minute they were standing in the pleasure house then the next there was nothing but swirling darkness. She clung to Azriel, somehow finding comfort in the arm wrapped securely around her.

When things came back into view the first thing she noticed were the stars in the sky. It had been so long since she saw the sky. Only she hadn’t been able to focus on it long, realizing they weren’t on a flat surface they were in the air and…falling.

A scream threatened to escape from her lips but that arm tightened around her and they were no longer falling but gliding lower and lower until they swooped through a window. She couldn’t really tell where she was at but as soon as her feet hit the ground she collapsed into herself. She pulled her knees to her chest inside of her winged cacoon, pushing her forehead against them and willing the sickness in her stomach to go away.

She didn’t look up at the sounds of a struggle, trying to ignore the grunting growls of a male who had just been slapped before the high pitched voice demanded, “Let me go! Take your hands off of me, you have no right!”

And she had been too scared to look up when she heard a booming voice that seemed to shake the very ground she was clinging to.

“He had every right,” is what that booming voice said, commanding silence from everyone in the room.

The silence was deafening.

She heard the sound of heels clicking, closer then further away then back in her direction again. She still didn’t look up. Not when she felt those heels next to her, or when the person wearing them wrapped something warm around her.

“My High Lord, please—”

“Take her to a cell,” That voice ordered again, not as loud but just as commanding and for a moment she thought they were talking about her.

She was about to beg. Don’t make me go. Please. Please, don’t take me to another cell!

It was only when she heard the other female, the Mistress, struggling again that she realized he wasn’t talking about her. He wasn’t locking her away…not yet anyway. When the struggling stopped and the shouts could no longer be heard. That’s when she looked up.

Her eyes instantly met dark violet. He looked similar to the other two males…golden tanned skin, dark hair, tall, but no wings. Unless they were hidden like hers had been.

“My name is Rhysand. What’s your name?” The voice asked, soothing almost, easing the tension from her shoulders.

“She can’t speak, Rhy,” the male from earlier, Azriel spoke. “They cut her tongue out.”

There’s a sharp intake of breath beside her and she remembers someone had been beside her. She looks up, taking in the heels, red silk top, blonde hair curled, and a pair of deep brown eyes on a beautiful face.

There is sadness in those eyes, etched in her flawless face and she has to look away. The anger flashing in those violet eyes isn’t much easier to look at.

“If I get you a pen and paper can you write?” He asked, again that voice soothing her in a way she didn’t quite understand. She shook her head.

Her father never taught them to read or write. They had no need for either being locked in that basement…that dark, cold, terrifying basement—

The male, Rhysand as he’d been called, frowns. Looking towards Azriel as if they were having a silent conversation before his eyes fall on her again and he takes a step forward, crouching down so they were eye level.

“I’m a daemati. Do you know what that is?” Rhysand asked. She shook her head again. “It means I can see and enter into people’s minds. Like this—hello, my name is Rhysand.”

Her eyes widen as that voice echoes in her head. What is happening right now? She meets Rhysand’s eyes, mouth falling open slightly. “You can hear me, too?”

“I can,” he responded out loud. “May we have the pleasure of knowing your name, sweetheart?”

She thought for a moment. No one had asked her for her name. They called her a lot of things…but never her name. She swallowed thickly, cleared her throat and nodded slowly.

“Cassandra. My name is Cassandra.” She answered, watching a warm smile come over his face as he stood and took the last few steps, offering his hand to her.

She doesn’t hesitate, placing her hand in his and allows him to gently pull her to her feet. She glances in the direction of Azriel and the pretty blonde just as the other male from before enters the room.

He shares that same look with Rhysand, like they’re communicating silently and now she knows that’s most likely the case. Rhysand dips his head in answer to whatever was said.

“Let me properly introduce you,” He says, gesturing to the three people in the room with them. “This is Azriel, Cassian and Morrigan. Everyone, this is Cassandra.”

Her heart skips in her chest. She hadn’t realized that it could feel so nice just to hear someone say her name. She gives Rhysand a small grateful look, hoping he understood what it means. He just gave her a single nod.

“Cassandra, you are officially under the protection of the night court,” Rhysand said, as she stood there staring at him. She felt something in her mind, like an opening and assumed it must be him waiting to see if she needed to say something.

“High Lord?” Cassandra asked and he nodded though he looked confused.

“Yes, I’m a high lord. Do you know what that is?” he asked. She shook her head, shrugging her shoulders meekly. The four of them share a look and it makes her want to drop back down into her cocoon and hide. “We can do a run down of titles and histories later. I am High Lord of Velaris, I rule this city and all of the people in it. Cassian is the commander of my armies. Azriel is my spy master. And Morrigan is my third in command as well as my cousin.”

Cassandra stands there. Everything coming from his mouth sounded foreign as if he was speaking another language. She nodded her head but it was more than obvious she didn’t really understand.

“Morrigan will escort you to your room—”

“Room? Not cell?” She asked surprised, not meaning to cut him off.

“You are not a prisoner, Cassandra. So, no, you won’t be sleeping in a cell. You will have your own room and you can do as you please,” Rhysand promised. “I have two amazing females, Nuala and Cerridwen that will tend to you. I would also like you to know I’ve placed a special ward on your room. No male will be allowed to enter your room, not even me unless you specifically invite them in. I want you to feel safe here. No one will lay a hand on you again without your permission. Not here. Not anywhere. Not ever again.”

Cassandra isn’t exactly sure what to say or what to do. No one, not even her own family has ever been this kind or considerate of her. She feels the tears in her eyes as she looks at him.

“Thank you.” Is all she can manage.

“There’s no need to thank me,” He shakes his head. Genuine. Sincere. There’s no trick behind his kindness. “Nuala and Cerridwen will take care of you, if you need anything ask them and they’ll get it for you. Once you feel comfortable and settled please come join us for dinner if you’re hungry. Do you need any special foods?”

“No…just soft foods. If there’s meat it just has to be small,” She answered, not wanting to show how special it felt that he asked that question silently.

“Not a problem at all,” Rhysand promised, giving her a small smile before waving Morrigan back over.

“Come, you’ll be right through here,” the beautiful female speaks, her voice smooth and warm. It reminded Cassandra of her mother.

Cassandra gave a small head nod before following Morrigan. The stone floors cold under her bare feet as she pulled the cover tighter around herself. The large, wooden double doors opened seemingly on their own accord. Cassandra looked back, locking eyes with Azriel, that male with the shadows, for a moment before they turned out of the room.

They walked down the hall in what Cassandra could only describe as comfortable silence. It gave her time to take in the beautiful home that seemed to be carved from…stone? Accented by wood and golden lights.

Cassandra slowed when they passed a particularly beautiful painting that caught her eye. The click of Morrigan’s heels slowed as well. The painting was of a large city, glow lights, and a bright river all at the base of a beautiful huge mountain. She scanned the painting. It felt so warm and inviting just like this home and the people in it.

“That’s Velaris,” Morrigan says from behind her. “Have you ever seen the city?”

Cassandra’s eyes stay on the painting and shakes her head. She hears the other female swallow thickly but still can’t tear her eyes from the beautiful painting.

“This is the city, it holds houses and businesses,” Morrigan begins pointing at the painting and tracing around the area she was talking about before moving to the brightest, most colorful part of the painting. “This is what we like to call the Rainbow. It’s where our artists of all kinds live. I like to go there to eat the music, it’s home to the best pastries, too! This here is the Sidra River, it’s sparkling blue in the daytime and winds all the way through Velaris. And this is where we are. We call it the House of Wind.”

Cassandra’s jaw drops a little when Morrigan points to the mountain, to the house carved in it. She looks around then back at the painting. Beautiful.

“One day, when you’re feeling up to it, you and I could have a girls day in the city. Just me and you. And I could show you all of the best shops, we could walk along the Sidra, you’ll love it. But only when you’re ready!” She clarified and Cassandra finally looked at her hearing the excitement in her voice.

“I don’t have many female friends and I can only have so much fun with those males,” She said, a smile stretching her red painted lips.

Cassandra tried to return the smile but she was sure it didn’t look genuine, she liked the idea of being…friends with Morrigan. But she didn’t know what all that entailed. Would Morrigan expect things of her if they became friends? Like those girls at the pleasure house?

“Come let’s get you to your room,” Morrigan cut through her thoughts and Cassandra offered a small nod before following once again.

Two more turns and a flight of stairs got them to where they were going. Two beautiful females stood outside an open door, dark skin with eyes and hair to match.

“Nuala and Cerridwen,” Morrigan motioned to each female, “this is Cassandra. Please, help her get cleaned up, changed and settled in. Cassandra, once you're settled, like Rhys said, please, consider coming to join us for dinner.”

Morrigan offers a smile before turning away. Cassandra’s hand shoots out to grab her wrist, to stop her, only to realize what she’d done and let go immediately, stumbling back a step.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Morrigan soothed, reaching out to steady her. “Would you like me to walk in with you?”

A jerky head nod was the answer she got.

“Alright, come,” She breathed softly, walking in the room first and waiting patiently for Cassandra.

When she entered the room her mouth fell open at how large it was. Situated in the middle of one wall was a huge bed—so huge she was sure she could lay on it, stretch her wigs out as far as they would go and still have room to spare. The covers were white and looked so fluffy. There were glowing lights all around the room. The opposite wall of the bed held a wall of glass less windows. Another wall held a table and chairs and a shelf with books. Then the other side opened into a large bathroom.

“Take a moment for yourself. Your life is about you now, Cassandra. You will never be used for someone else's pleasure or entertainment ever again. This is your room. This is your home now,” Morrigan speaks and Cassandra feels her eyes tear up but then Morrigan's heels are leaving the room and those two dark skinned beauties are leading her to the bathroom.

⋆ ݁⟡ ݁☾ ݁⟡ ݁⋆

As soon as she was out of the room Morrigan broke down. Hot tears slid down her cheeks as she made her way back to the room she left the other three male in. She had just calmed herself when she walked in and saw them standing together.

“Is everything okay, Mor?” Cassian asked, siphons gleaming atop his hands.

“I don’t think she’s ever been outside before, Rhys,” and just like that Morrigan’s eyes were brimming with tears once again. Rhys fixed her with a look urging her to explain, an ache in his own chest. She takes a breath, looking up and wiping the tears from her eyes. “We were passing that big painting of Velaris and she had no clue what she was looking at. She had no idea what her own home looked like. And on top of that she was terrified to even walk in the room alone, I had to walk her in. And—and she looked at the room like she didn’t believe it was real. Especially the bed and I keep thinking that maybe she never even had a bed!”

Cassian is the one to walk over and offer Morrigan the comfort of a hug. “It’s okay. We’re gonna take care of her now. Find all the people who did this, help her through it all and help her find herself. She’s gonna be okay.”

Rhys and Azriel look at one another. “There’s no telling how many other girls like Cassandra there are out there. I’m hoping she will join us for dinner so I’m able to ask her some questions without her feeling cornered. Azriel, Cassian, I want you two to go talk to that mistress, find out what you can without harming her…for now. Her and anyone else involved will be prosecuted accordingly. Go. now.”

#acotar #slow burn #acotar fanfiction #azriel #azriel fanfic #azriel x reader

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suempu · 1 month

Note

Falls to floor your writing is so lovely Do you perhaps have any kabru x reader sfw/nsfw hcs…

thank you so much for the kind words. “lovely” 🥹 ahh you got me blushing anon lmfao

gn reader + on the receiving end !!!

kabru would be the casual type of lover. he’s nothing but calm and suave with you, which is attractive.

he’s quite attentive of people and you’re no exception. although he really goes out of his way to be accommodating when it comes to you if you’re his lover.

mindful of your expressions and body language. once he sees a sign of you being uncomfortable, kabru will pull you away from the group and talk to you softly.

i feel like he’d be good at taking care of his partner, though he’s not the best, he tries.

kabru’s good at talking you down, grounding you into reality whenever you’re on the verge of a breakdown. let’s say you feel very unstable, he’ll whisper in the most softest tone you’ll ever hear while he holds your hand. he asks permission to touch you beforehand of course.

“here, you can feel my fingers, right?”

“mm.”

“my palm, feel it. you’re here with me,”

“i’m here…”

“good job. can i ask what happened?”

he’s good at radiating a calm atmosphere when you need it and he’s always ready to help you.

praises and compliments come out of his mouth like a piece of cake, he’s not shy when it comes to showering you with love. the whole party is grossed out by him whenever you’re around. it’s like when the parents are being all lovey-dovey and the children just groan out an ‘eww’ (its mainly mickbell complaining tho lmao)

i believe he’s had one or two intimate relationships before you, but none of them has ever lasted long enough as yours. so he’s had some experience before you.

he’s certainly a tease. have you seen that face? that face screams unfairness and mischief (in bed)

kabru loves your whining whenever he purposely denies you release. one moment his fingers will go fast and wild on your most sensitive spots, and the next he goes painstakingly slow.

“aww, but if i let you cum this early, then what about me?”

he’s a cheeky bastard. the real reason why he draws out your orgasms is because he believes that edging you will result to a much pleasurable and hard orgasm for later (he’s right.)

you will get overstimulated with this man, no question about it. he strives to make you cum at least 5-6 times in one session, which is overkill but he really loves the way your eyes glaze over.

kabru loves your tears and whining, though it kind of makes him guilty so he makes sure to absolutely spoil you after.

his hips are bad for your body. with the way he thrusts into you so precisely. its like he already knows which spot to hit, he rolls into you as he teases and whispers in your ear. he’s actually fucking crazy.

“right here? oh yeah, here?”

he moans in time with his thrusts. he loves watching your face, how your half lidded eyes look so lost yet so present. missionary is definitely his favorite position. loves being all up on your face, he kisses your cheeks, forehead, lips, and jaw while he’s inside you.

nights with him are long and wild, but he can go slow and be more gentler if you asked him to. he lives for your reactions, he thinks its really sweet how you trust him so much with your body.

kabru makes up for all his teasing with aftercare. he pants as he pulls you close, hands on your back and caressing you gently.

“you okay? did i break you?”

“shut up.” you breath out hoarsely.

he chuckles, “i love you too.”

he gives you a massage after that, quietly kissing your hips and stomach as his fingers rub at your skin. whispers small apologies while his hands work on your body. he always checks in on you whenever he hears a whine or groan when he touches a sore spot.

while he is content with just sleeping and cuddling in your own sweat, he’ll take you to the bathroom if you want to be cleaned.

solid lover, tries his best, just don’t ever have sex in his own bedroom (its messy)

#kabru of utaya #kabru x reader #dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #dunmeshi #delicious in dungeon x reader #dunmeshi x reader #dungeon meshi x reader #kabru dungeon meshi #kabru delicious in dungeon #delicious in dungeon smut #dungeon meshi smut

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uyuforu · 4 months

Text

Uyu's Astrological Observations III

₊˚⊹♡ It's so easy to recognize Aquarius placements on instagram, just look at James Deen's Instagram. You will instantly understand why.

₊˚⊹♡ I realized that Saturn in 7H Solar Return Chart is also about limits in relationships, and in this case you could find it hard to find someone else than your crush that year for example. Or your ex. No one seems better. If you are in a relationship, you could find that you are literally only interested in them. Which is a good thing!

₊˚⊹♡ Vertex in 7H in a Solar Return can be a sign of meeting someone that will become very important in your life.

₊˚⊹♡ The more I see people's SR Charts, the more I see many people of different age getting married between 2026-2028. (why?)

₊˚⊹♡ My Juno is in Scorpio 2H 26° (Taurus house & degree), my FS's Juno is also in Scorpio, and he is Taurus rising. His Juno is also in 2H and 2° (both Taurus placements). My Groom is in my 10H, and my FS's Groom falls in his 10H too. My FS's Briede is in Gemini, and my Briede is in my 3H. It also conjuncts my Moon.

₊˚⊹♡ Scorpio placements NEVER forget, and they can hold grudges forever. My grandma has a Scorpio stellium, she has been deceived by a friend when she was a child, and decided to NEVER again trust people too much. She never got a best friend because it.

₊˚⊹♡ The moon persona chart can really tell you about stuff you never realized or stuff you never wanted to accept about yourself.

₊˚⊹♡ Moon/ Cancer/ or Moon influences over the 7H= marrying someone younger than you, or marrying at a young age

₊˚⊹♡ Some people's Juno and Groom/ Briede happen to be the same person, but not for everyone. Juno represents your ideal partner, it has more of a spiritual link and destiny vibe. Some people marry someone they don't have any soul attachment to.

₊˚⊹♡ Saturn/ Capricorn/ or Saturn influences over the 7H= marrying someone older than you, or marrying when you are older.

₊˚⊹♡ Men attracted to women often have their Briede PC looking identical to their wife's Natal Chart.

₊˚⊹♡ My Parents had Vertex in the 5H Composite, and they had a baby (me)

₊˚⊹♡ But they also had Briede and Groom in 3H, they were indeed engaged but never married. And their 7H is empty.

₊˚⊹♡ My step mother's sun also fall in their 9H, conjuncting Chiron. My dad left my mom for her.

₊˚⊹♡ If you want to see if it's gonna work out with someone, don't only check basic synastry, composite, etc. But also Persona Chart synastry! For example, check Boda PC Synastry, and see if your weddings are "the same".

₊˚⊹♡ Gemini Sun on Boda Persona Chart could indicate having two weddings (just a theory)

₊˚⊹♡ In my DSC Persona Chart, my FS's Natal sun fall in the 7H in that PC. My DSC PC's Juno is in the 7H too, and so also conjuncting his Natal Sun.

₊˚⊹♡ Let's talk about the Union PC, it's not something very known.

₊˚⊹♡ Uranus in my Union PC is in 9H in Aquarius, and I met my FS online first and then in a foreign country where technology is pretty advanced. It was also a sudden meeting!

₊˚⊹♡ The rising of my Union PC is Gemini 22°, and when I met my FS, our meeting was very organized, and I didn't know if it was a date or not, so I was a bit cold and detached. But we met in a foreign country, and I was speaking in a foreign language (English).

₊˚⊹♡ Groom in my Union PC is in Leo 25° (Aries), and my FS was flirty, and very showing off when we met. It's also in 3H, he was a true rizz. Also conjuncting Venus, he REALLY wanted to seduce me. He went hard, it was so obvious lmao.

₊˚⊹♡ This could also explain why my Briede in this PC is in Capricorn, and I was cold and detached lol. His rizz was a turn off.

₊˚⊹♡ Speaking of synastry in Union PC, my Sun there is in Virgo, and in my FS Union PC, Briede is in Virgo. In his Union PC, his Sun is in Leo, and in my Union PC, Groom is in Leo.

₊˚⊹♡ My FS's rising in Union PC is the same as his NC, and Cancer is over the 4H. We met in his homeland, where he was born.

₊˚⊹♡ Also, his Natal North Node conjunct his North Node in Union PC, meaning the meeting with his FS is part of his destiny.

₊˚⊹♡ Our Union also conjunct each other in Union PC Synastry.

₊˚⊹♡ My Briede in Union PC falls in his 11H, and his Groom in Union PC falls in my 11H. We met online first.

₊˚⊹♡ My father had a pretty intense and sometimes toxic relationship with his ex-wife, my step mother, and her sun was in his 8H, conjuncting Chrion... 😬

₊˚⊹♡ My father also has Part of Fortune in the 9H and it conjuncts his MC. He travels for work.

₊˚⊹♡ My father had 3 children: my sun falls in his 12H and he was an absent father figure in my life. My brother's sun falls in his 3H, and they tell the same joke, have the same way to talk. They have a lot in common when it comes to topics to discuss. And my sisters's sun fall in his 5H, she is the favorite child.

₊˚⊹♡ My Sun conjunct my mother's Ceres, and she is very protective of me.

₊˚⊹♡ I noticed a lot of people have North Node retrogrades. It usually means they think they are going to struggle to meet their destiny. For example: my FS has scorpio 7H North Node. And he has this thought that he will never marry.

₊˚⊹♡ I don't know much about Astrocartography, but I have been studying it a little recently. I realized that my Sun DC line and North Node DC line falls on the place I met my FS ;-;

₊˚⊹♡ I also checked my FS' Astrocartography and he got his North Node DC on the place we met lol.

₊˚⊹♡ I was Scorpio rising in my SRC of the year a lot of guys wanted to be intimate with me.

₊˚⊹♡ This year SRC I am Leo rising, and I met a lot of guys who happens to have crush on me. It's insane, I feel popular ;-;

₊˚⊹♡ Im not a big fan of Moon conjunct Sun in Synastry, but because it either the best or worst relationship ever. I realized every people who have my moon sign as their sun, we never get along, they hate me while we never truly talked. But, people who have my sun sign as their moon actually annoy me lmao? I guess the sun sign feels threaten by the moon sign embodying their energy?

Book a reading with Uyu:

*Uyu’s Email Adress: [email protected]

*This is the only email address I have!

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#astrology #astrology observation #astrology observations #astro observation #astro observations #astrology compatibility #love astrology #astrology notes #astrology community #astrology blog #synastry #composite #persona chart #solar return

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ggomos-maribat · 2 months

Text

Double Lives

Damian was certain that his wife was keeping a secret from him.

He trusted her with his life, of course—Marinette had kept a number of things from him in the earlier stages of their relationship, like her experience and trauma in Paris. He knew not to pry, and eventually she opened up. He was glad that some burden was taken off her shoulders.

But this was different. She was deliberately trying not to get caught; she took care to hide her phone from his view, and there were days she'd come home very late. When asked, she'd get irritable but also nervous around him. Damian didn't want to assume things right off the bat, but he did hope she would finally grow comfortable to talk it out with him. And so he resisted using his ‘resources’ to peek into her life—what kind of distrusting partner would he be if he did that?

He knew, too, that he was being awfully hypocritical. He was still yet to sit her down and reveal his vigilante alter ego to her as well as his family's. Damian would swear he planned to rip the bandaid off when they got engaged. But he couldn't bring himself to do it, out of the fear that she'd leave him. As far as he knew, Marinette wanted a normal quiet life after living through the Evil Butterfly Man's reign of terror. Telling her his identity would just put a target on her back, if there wasn't any already after she became a Wayne.

He couldn't imagine his sweet innocent wife exposed to the horrors of vigilantism.

Still, even though he had his own secrets, it felt quite frustrating not to know hers. That was what Damian was thinking one dark night when the door finally opened, signalling her arrival from work.

“Damian?” Her eyes widened. “Why are you still up? You shouldn't have waited for me.”

“It's alright. I couldn't sleep anyways.” And I will be sneaking out for patrol later. He stood up to kiss her cheek—

But froze upon seeing a red mark right at the base of her neck.

Marinette hummed tiredly. “Next time, don't wait for me if you're tired, okay?”

“. . . What's that on your neck?” He dared to ask.

Her hand immediately flew to the spot on her skin. For a split second, her expression changed into a hint of annoyance. “It's—it's . . .” she stammered, “I accidentally hit myself.”

“You hit yourself?”

She nodded meekly.

Damian stared at her for a moment. There was one thing he knew about his wife: she was a bad liar. But she was expert at omitting things, partly because she probably knew he wouldn't interrogate her further. He knew that she was aware it was the vaguest of explanations but she never tried to elaborate.

He mustered out a smile. “Be careful next time.”

She let out a nervous laugh and squeaked out a ‘yes’.

“By the way.” He took a deep breath, “I visited your office this morning.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, and your secretary told me you hadn't punched in for the day yet.”

The silence between them was thick.

“Ah . . .” Damian could practically see the gears turning in her head. “That was . . . erm, I had to run an errand before work! Yeah . . .”

“I see. I was hoping to have lunch with you earlier but it seems that you're busy nowadays.”

She cursed in French under her breath.

“I'm really sorry, Damian.” She fidgeted with her fingers. “I'll make time this week. I promise.”

She hurried off to their bedroom, leaving Damian with his thoughts.

He really really didn't want to assume the worst. But his heart was racing and when he looked at the signs, they were clear as day. His mind started to spiral a little, wondering where he could've gone wrong, wondering if he didn't spend enough time on her or if she felt that he wasn't giving enough effort.

But he pushed all those thoughts away and followed her to bed.

***

One Saturday afternoon saw Robin and Superboy in the Watchtower's breakroom, talking about Damian's predicament. He hoped his friend could at least contribute an objective outsider's perspective in his dilemma and encourage him to broach the topic with Marinette.

“She's cheating,” Superboy deadpanned.

“She's—she's not,” he argued back, “Perhaps I am just reading too much into it . . .”

“Um but the hickey? The late night escapades?” Superboy frowned. “I don't know about you, but I don't think there's any other explanation for it.”

Robin bit his tongue. No, it's not possible. He loved Marinette terribly, and he knew—he could feel the same love from her if not more.

His friend sighed, “Look, I know it's hard to believe. Even I don't think M can be . . . unfaithful but you should confront her about it.”

“I can't. I can't face her like that when I am still keeping a secret of my own.”

“Then tell her you're Robin. A secret for a secret, hm?”

Robin didn't even want to think about how messy that conversation would be.

“It's all just about communication,” Superboy continued. “If you're worried she won't accept you, take my mom and dad as an example—”

He stopped talking, indicating that he sensed another presence nearby. Just on cue, a fuming Ladybug stomped into the breakroom, heading straight to one of the refrigerators.

The two men watched as she muttered angrily while looking around for food—Robin could see the clear exhaustion on her tensed figure. The Parisian heroine had joined the Justice League after the Hawkmoth fiasco became public; the heroes were quick to recruit her but not before she voiced out her complaints about the League neglecting her city. Though she hadn't revealed her identity to anyone, she had formed bonds with the other heroes her age, not excluding Robin and Superboy.

Superboy winced when she kicked the fridge door.

Ladybug did a hundred eighty, showing both the fires of hell and sleepless nights in her blue eyes. “You don't happen to have an extra stock of Kryptonite, do you?”

Superboy looked at her warily. “What happened this time?”

“Your dad assigned me to another magic-involved mission!” She tugged at her hair, sitting beside them. “I thought I made it clear I didn't want to be involved in too many missions especially if it's non-miraculous related ones!”

“You could . . . tell him that?”

She shot a sharp glare at them. “You don't think I did? They're insisting it's miraculous related when Constantine hasn't even confirmed anything! Just because Paris was terrorized, it doesn't mean miraculi are going to pop out from everywhere! These missions are affecting my normal life!”

It was a common complaint for heroes who had alternate civilian lives, but Robin was a bit surprised that she was that open about her feelings.

“And—and Batman too!” She pointed a finger at Robin. “I know Monsieur Furry's guilty about the Paris thing and all and me not having a mentor but he keeps checking on my progress after missions liked a damned helicopter parent! “

Before either of them could reply, she continued ranting, “I was going to meet an important client yesterday but they just had to call me in to help with the mission! And then it goes on until freaking midnight! What about my precious sleep?! Then Zatanna accidentally used a spell on me—it hit my neck and now it looks like a hickey!”

Her head dropped onto the table. “How the fuck do I fucking explain that to my husband?!”

Robin and Superboy looked at each other, wide-eyed.

“You—you haven't told your husband that you're a hero?” Superboy asked carefully.

Not lifting up her head, she replied with a muffled voice, “Of course not! I can't do that to him! He's already exposed to enough danger because of his last name! I just can't tell him ‘ hey mon amour so I'm actually that heroine from Paris on top of my emotional PTSD!’”

Robin swallowed. That was Marinette's name for him.

It ticked too many boxes.

He started to subconsciously connect the dots: catching his wife absent at work at the time the magic-wielding team of the JL was away on a mission; Ladybug sharing that she finally linked up messages from her yoyo to her personal phone; his wife coming home late, tired and fatigued from head to toe when all she was supposed to be doing was designing.

“I'm sure he'll come to understand your circumstances,” Superboy consoled.

“He won't.” The heroine sat up, revealing that her eyes were now welling up with tears. “He probably hates me right now because I'm sending the wrong signals. What if he thinks I'm just taking advantage of him for his money? His family already hates me! What if he's filing for a divorce right now?”

Robin felt the nudge from his friend, as if to tell him to do damage control. Superboy abruptly stood up, spouted out an excuse about being called by someone, and left the room to the two of them.

Ladybug sniffed, “Sorry, you probably didn't want to hear all of that.”

“It helps to get your problems off your chest.” Robin awkwardly patted her head. In truth, she was really Marinette, he wanted to pull her into a hug already.

He coughed. “Why—why do you think your husband's family hates you?”

“Oh . . . I don't know, but his father’s always distant. Whenever I'm at a family dinner, they're just very quiet,” she replied sadly. “I know they're good people but I felt like I didn't belong somehow. My husband keeps saying they adore me though.”

Robin wanted to sigh out loud. His father still had his guard up because he believed she was a civilian, hence there was a side of her family they could never show her. It was always quiet due to Alfred's stern lecture about behaving in front of Marinette lest they accidentally spill something they shouldn't.

“It sounds like your husband cares a lot about you,” he told her, “Don't you think he would trust you if you told him the truth?”

“But I can't! I don't know where to begin!” She pursed her lips. “He's always been good to me and he never steps the line even if I'm obviously lying. I just . . . I thought I could tell him before we got married but I was too scared and I didn't want to ruin what we had.”

“But he won't think any differently of you, would he?”

“No . . .”

“Then you have nothing to be afraid of.” He smiled a little. “It may come off as a shock at first but he will accept it in time. You will be stressing yourself out even more if you keep thinking about the worst scenarios.”

She stared at him. “When did you get so wise?”

“Ever since I started thinking about what my wife was doing.”

She tilted her head. “Huh?”

It was unmistakable. Those gleaming blue eyes were Marinette's.

He was such an idiot.

“She keeps coming home late, hides her phone every time I'm near,” he listed, gauging her reaction. “Last night, I found out she hadn't come to her office even when she said she was working, and I caught her with a strange mark on her neck.”

Her eyes slowly widened as she seemed to come to the same realization. The heroine's gloved hands flew up to cover her mouth. “Damian?” she whispered.

He checked if the coast was clear and slowly peeled off his domino mask to show his full face. “I'm sorry I didn't tell you habib –”

He was cut off by her warm lips, her arms winding around his neck. Damian immediately melted into her touch, relieved that they finally divulged their secrets. He wouldn't have to be worried about introducing her to the hero world after all.

He was extremely relieved, in fact, that he hadn't noticed his father and eldest brother stroll into the room.

“ROBIN! Are you cheating on your wife?!”

Robin pulled away from Ladybug, withholding a sigh of exasperation. He put his mask back on and turned around to see Batman looking constipated and Nightwing utterly shocked.

"How could you do that to—to . . ." Nightwing cried out.

"Leave us." He glared.

"Robin—" His father's voice was tinged with disapproval.

"Leave. Us."

Fortunately, the two scurried off. Damian faced his wife, who seemed as flabbergasted. He was worried since it was her identity that was at risk, unless he embraced the unexpected cheating allegations.

"Oh my kwamis," Ladybug said softly, "I called my father-in-law a furry ."

"It's deserved." He rubbed up and down her shoulders. "What do you want to do?"

"Oh um . . ." She ducked her head. "Maybe go home and I'll—I'll explain everything from the beginning."

***

Damian had to recount his life story after his wife shared hers whilst they cuddled in bed. After they talked, he was surprised to learn so many new things about her—he thought he had her memorized already, even before they exchanged vows. At the same time, he was mentally kicking himself for thinking that Marinette was never closely involved in the war against Hawkmoth.

Of course she was Ladybug.

Of course she was a hero.

So while she was spiraling at the number of times she'd unknowingly mocked her in-laws in the suit, he was regretting not telling her the truth sooner. If they'd opened up years ago, he would've stayed by her side during missions, helping her deal with the troubles of having a masked alter egos, and sharing his own experiences with her. A stronger bond would've formed between them, because they both understood the hero's life after all this time.

Not long after, she finally decided she was ready to tell the Waynes who she was. ‘It would do more harm than good if I kept hiding it anyway,’ she reasoned. He did agree, since she was part of the family, both as Ladybug and Marinette. The others would surely be overjoyed (and less overprotective) if they found out that she was a hero. What Damian found strange, however, was Marinette seemed to worry that Bruce's opinion on her would change and he'd become ‘distant’ as Batman as well.

“Remember, Batman is afraid of you,” he had reminded her over and over again.

(And Batman would be ecstatic to discover that Ladybug was his daughter-in-law, but Damian would never tell her that. The caped vigilante had grown fussy over the Parisian heroes as his way of ‘making up’ for the Paris incidents . . . But at the same time, he cowered ever so slightly when Ladybug raised her voice on him. Damian's siblings blamed Ladybug's black hair and blue eyes for triggering the adopt-itis.)

And so Damian and Marinette decided to arrange a family lunch to break the news to everyone. It was then Damian remembered that there was one issue he hadn't resolved yet.

“If you don't tell Marinette today, I'm telling her.” Dick glared at him from across the table.

Damian glanced at his watch. His wife wasn't present yet, and had sent him a message about picking up pastries from Paris first.

“Tt. That would mean revealing our identities, Richard.” He crossed his arms.

“Just because you have the mask on it doesn't mean you can do that to her!” Dick argued. “Does Ladybug even know you're married?! ”

“What did he do to Pixie-pop?” asked Jason.

“He---he—” Dick was once again trembling in anger and disbelief.

“We saw him kissing Ladybug.” It was Bruce who replied. “Damian, I never expected this from you. You will have to talk and apologize to Marinette.”

“You did what?!” Jason stood up so abruptly that the utensils clattered.

“What the fuck?” Tim exclaimed.

Stephanie gasped. “What the hell Damian?”

“Holy shit,” Duke whispered.

Damian could only stare at the entryway of the dining hall, hoping that Marinette would arrive soon. If he was left with his family any longer, they'd be beating him up and disowning him.

“I have . . . a reason,” he said through gritted teeth. He couldn't exactly tell them right off the bat, since Marinette wasn't there yet.

“Open . . . open relationship?” Cass frowned.

Suddenly, a bright light appeared at the ceiling—a portal— and from it, a figure dropped down, much to everyone's shock. Ladybug, unified with the Horse miraculous, grinned at them with an armful of boxes filled with croissants and macarons.

“Ladybug?” Bruce gaped.

“Your daughter-in-law actually.” She lowered the sunglasses, showing her narrowed eyes. “And your worst fucking nightmare.”

“W---What?”

Damian could barely control his laughter, seeing his father frozen.

She detransformed completely and scowled at Bruce. “This is technically your fault, furry old man! If you didn't keep agreeing to send me on those magical missions, I wouldn't be so tired and caused a misunderstanding in the first place.”

Damian didn't have time to shield himself from the eruption of noise on the table. With his wife's theatrical reveal, everyone was in different states of shock. Tim stood up quietly to face a wall with a blank stare, entertaining another existential crisis. Duke choked on the water he was drinking. Jason was crouched on the floor miserably with his hands over his face, perhaps because of the times he complained to Marinette about Ladybug's uptight methods. Dick's jaw was completely unhinged, and he was slapping himself every minute or so. Stephanie passed a hundred dollar bill to Cass.

And Bruce. Poor Bruce was paler than their porcelain plates, speechless and unmoving.

Damian exchanged a wide smile with his wife. He loved her so much.

#maribat fic #maribat fanfic #dc x mlb #mlb x dc #maribat #daminette #maribat marinette dupain cheng #ggomoz #maribat damian wayne

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00-jammy-00 · 2 months

Note

Helloo!!^_^

Could I request a yan who everyone likes? Like nobody would suspect yan!

I guess golden retriever!yan? Maybe darling tries to say something but nobody believes them because they think darling is trying to ruin yan’s reputation ? :33

Btw could I be 🍯 anon?

Yan!GoldenBoy HC’s

Yan!GoldenBoy x GN! Reader

Content warning - Yandere themes, obsession, murder, nsfw mentions, possessiveness, stalking, yan has mood swings, he’s a little bitch.

—————————————————————————————————

Yan!GoldenBoy who was good looking. He could get anything he wanted with a hand through his hair and a flash of his charming pearly whites. He knew he was handsome, he knew people trusted him, he knew all this and he knew it would only make it easier to get you.

Yan!GoldenBoy Who has been obsessed with you for months! He was playing basketball for his school when he saw you for the first time. You were just sitting on the benches, none of that cringe ‘they were reading a book instead of paying attention.’ you were simply watching the game but you looked so radiant while doing it, he couldn’t help but rush over when the game finished.

Yan!GoldenBoy Who tripped over his own feet to chase you down near the exit, he put an arm around your shoulders and flashed that charming smile. He talked to you for a few minutes, making sure to totally not brag about the fact he was the captain of the basketball team, he was really humble you know?

Yan!GoldenBoy Who offered you a car ride home with those gorgeous honey coloured eyes yet was completely shocked when you said no. You said…no? What the fuck does no mean? Who the fuck do you think you are?! You’re lucky he doesn’t fucking kill you!

Yan!GoldenBoy Who just gives you a sweet smile and insists only to clench his jaw when you refuse again. God you’re making this so fucking hard, you’re gorgeous, you’re everything, which means you’re meant to be his for fucks sake.

Yan!GoldenBoy Who vows he’ll never leave you alone. You’re destined to be his, you’re perfect, he’s perfect, so you have to be together, you’re soulmates! He uses a few favours to find out everything about you. Your address, who your family is, where you work, your favourite brand, what your favourite scent is, your zodiac sign, blood type, what hospital you were born at, what cemetery you might want to get buried at. You know, the usual stuff.

Yan!GoldenBoy Who is practically drooling as he jerks himself off to your underwear which he had…borrowed…from your house on his last so called visit. He had cum so much he was having dry orgasms babe! Why do you still not want him?! He could be so good for you!

Yan!GoldenBoy Who sits in his nice car with a pair of binoculars to make sure nothing strange is happening in your room. He’s just keeping you safe, what if someone comes around and tries to steal you?! Don’t worry, your boyfriend is here for you, he’ll protect you. Your boyfriend…god just the idea of being your boyfriend makes him hard all over again.

Yan!GoldenBoy Who doesn’t care if he has to beat the shit out of some people. Your classmate was found with a ripped open chest and a missing heart? That’s terrible babe, but he can be your lab partner now! That one annoying bitch in your class had a bullet between her eyes and her heart missing just like your classmate? How tragic! Don’t worry, you’re safe with him.

Yan!GoldenBoy Who delivers special presents to your door every time a little rat decides to try and ruin his plans. Maybe if he gifts you the hearts from his victims, you’ll let him into yours <3

——————————————————————————————————

Likes, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated, requests are open <3

please do not copy, repost or translate any of my works on other platforms without my permission.

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7ndipity · 6 months

Text

Partner Privileges

Jungkook x Reader

Warnings: none

A/N: Thanks to @queenofdragonsandcats for requesting this!

Masterlist

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Sharing food. He likes being able to look after you, both in bigger, more obvious ways, as well as little, subtle things, even if it’s just sharing a bite or two of whatever he’s eating. He just wants to make sure you’re taken care of and well fed(but he will insist on feeding it to you)

Helping with household chores. I’ve mentioned this before, but he seems to really enjoy moments of simple domesticity, and I think that would extend into your relationship. He’s very much a ‘playing house’ type of boyfriend, relishing in simple daily tasks with you. It might sound strange, but doing laundry together is a love language for him.

Info dumping. Yoongi and Jin joked during Suchwita about how Jungkook tends to space out or not always pay super close attention during conversations, but when it comes to you, he makes a conscious effort to pay super close attention, even if you’re just ranting about why mint chocolate is a superior flavor of ice cream. He loves talking to you about literally anything and sharing whatever weird topic y’all have fixated on lately.(my adhd ass is projecting a lil, leave me alone)

Babying each other. As I mentioned in my other lists, he’s had to kinda fight to shake the perception of him as the cute little maknae of the group, but he can’t help but melt whenever you dote on him, and the same applies to you. He doesn’t mind being your baby, but he absolutely loves getting to take care of his baby.

This one goes against almost everything I’ve said before about his possessive streak but, being friends with his friends. He’s very protective of his friends and loved ones, so letting you into his inner circle of friends is a real sign of trust and commitment from him, and seeing you getting along with Jimin or Mingyu means the world to him(even tho he might still get a lil jealous sometimes).

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan

#jungkook headcanons #jungkook scenarios #jungkook reaction #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #bts x y/n #bts x reader #bts fluff #bts reaction #bts reactions #bts scenarios #bts headcanons #bts requests #7ndipity

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brights-place · 5 months

Note

Hey! Could I request a Brozone x s/o jealousy hc? Thanks!

Brozone Jealousy Headcannons

Pairing: Brozone X S/O (Seperate)

Warnings: Cursing, fluff, jealousy

A/N: Dude I love writing all your requests OMG JEBJKWN VKLKBQW anyways jealousy headcannons are the BEST!

John Dory/JD Jealousy! Headcannons

- John dory is 100% very overprotective of you - Snapped the fire would he was collecting quickly as he saw the troll talk to you as you were smiling chatting to the troll as John gritted his teeth - He gets very clingy. He latches onto your arm, jumps on your back, kisses your neck at times, that sort of thing if needed to and will glare down anybody if needed

- He feared that they would steal them away from him. - he would become jealous and possessive, and would do everything in his power to make sure that YOU! His partner only had eyes for him.

- Will stare daggers at anyone who stares at you too long. He will make it known you're his.

- Is definitely the type to waltz up to the person you're chatting with and interrupt the two of you to introduce himself and have an hand on your waist then kiss you right infront of them with an smirk

- Grips onto your waist while staring the person down as the dude walked away when seeing JD's glare as he left JD hugged your waist "mine" he mutters as you giggle

Spruce/Bruce Jealousy! Headcannons

- While bruce knows he is an attractive man I mean come on he's entitled as the heart throb in his band years he still thinks that you can do much better than him!

- Isn't vocal about his jealousy would just stare at how an random person would walk up and start talking to you, and the fact you were unaware about that the person was flirting with you kind of pissed him off

- He was writing an order before hearing the person flirt with you making him snap his pen and grip onto his notebook for an moment as an Vacay islander raised an eyebrow at Bruce before noticing the scene

- Bruce stood there in shock as he walked over with an aggravated look on his face as he grabbed your hand, taking you to the kitchen - "Bruce honey are you okay?" You asked him cupping his face "I'm fine. Stop talking to that guy and just give me your attention.." he mumbled as you cupped his face as you peppered his face with kisses.

- He planned on banning the person from your restaurant but you told him not too so he just gave the guy an plate of clams... there was an reason he told everybody not to order the clams

- Lets say that troll wouldn't be talking to you anymore and would be having diarrhea

- He closed the restaurant early and walked over to you hugging you so hard saying how that troll should of backed off

Clay Jealousy! Headcannons

- Clay well doesn't really get jealous But he HATES like really HATES feeling it when he is - He never wants you to feel like he doesn't trust you cause you trust him and he loves you so much

- He may get a bit defensive if a man or woman is trying to shoot their shot with you but he's confident enough in you and your relationship that he doesn't worry but when needed he will stride over smile at them - Whenever someone flirts with you clay jaw clenches involuntarily. Hiseyes narrow ever so slightly, a subtle sign that he's not entirely pleased with the attention you're receiving. - He trusts you enough to let you handle it on your own... but will 100% step in like the serious boy he is to get the person away from you - This man is petty as fuck you could see that everyone could see that

- He'll come up and wrap his arm around you, or press a kiss to your cheek, making your relationship very obvious to the person who's talking to you

- Showers you with affection afterwards since he held your hand and then held you close but If you accuse him of being jealous, he'll look away then back at you with an small smile muttering an "Maybe..." while you laugh

Floyd Jealousy! Headcannons

- Floyd rarely get's jealous but when he does he has two sides either very quiet and fidgety or when he notices the person trying to flirt he'd be more up front about the situation like clay and an mix of bruce/spruce - He’s a tad bit insecure and quite fidgety. He’s also very quiet, his eyes darting between you and the person you’re talking with.

- He trusts you there’s no question about that but he’s still insecure. - They were so much more confident and good-looking, and floyd felt... like he was nothing compared to the person.

- If the person leaves he will bury his head into your neck wrapping his arms around your waist and speaking softly

- Innocent questions like "Who was that?" or "Do you know them well?" become loaded with an undercurrent of jealousy. He might pretend it's just curiosity, but his heart beats a little faster as he waits for your response.

- His fingers might 'accidentally' brush against yours when he senses someone watching a little too closely. It's a subtle way of reminding everyone that he's the one who gets to hold your hand.

- In group settings he positions himself between you and any potential threats aka people trying to flirt with you -It's a protective move that ensures he can keep a watchful eye and be ready to intervene if necessary.

- He becomes unusually vocal about his love for you when he senses competition. Expect random declarations of affection and praise, as he wants the world to know just how amazing you are.

- "You wouldn't date them right?" "what why?" "I dunno" floyd muttereed quietly looking towards you "Floyd honey I love you so much your enough for me... wait where you jealous?" floyd looked away while you laughed

- Cup his face right after an tell him you wouldn't leave him but also you teasing him about him being jealous is cute

Branch Jealousy! Headcannons

- Branch doesn't like seeing you around other people... it makes him feel weird since he's afraid you'll leave him - He understands. Of course people would flirt with you! He knows that you’re pure beauty and perfection so it’s no surprise that people would want to hit on you... but it pisses him of so much - The pop trolls would gape in disbelief seeing someone like you, kindhearted and gentle dating... someone like branch cause he's... Branch

- Branch cares for you so much and would walk over place an hand on your waist and glares down at the person

- This man literally SCREAMS that episode with Rosa and her dog arlo??? in S3 Ep 12 in B99! "I love my wife/husband/partner and if anything happens to them I would kill everybody in this room then myself" vibes while your blushing and covering your face

- BUT THATT DOESN'T MEAN HE ISN'T INSECURE ABOUT IT! - He's still fairly insecure with himself! So when he sees someone he feels is more attractive than he is he can't help but feel self-conscious

- He will subconsciously go above and beyond for you! pulling out your chair, bringing you flowers, making your favorite food, and opening the car door for you more than he already does after feeling so insecure

- but he also will glare somebody down and plan their death so fast it isn't even an joke - ESPECIALLY if they bully you he would have their heads on an stick

reblogs + comments are appreciated ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

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