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yanderenightmare · 6 months

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Bakugou Katsuki

TW: NSFW, yandere

gn reader

You’re attracted to Bakugou for many reasons – he’s tall and ripped and handsome and a bit of an asshole – but really, what you like about him most is that he doesn't seem like he’d be too much trouble. And you mean that in many ways.

You’ve been in relationships before, and none of them have ended on good terms – always leading to deep upsets and disappointments. You’d come to the realization that boys, on any level that wasn’t purely sexual, were something you didn’t really need or want at the moment – which is why Bakugou, in all his disinterested glory, was just perfect for you.

He’d fold you in half in filthy places like the locker room or bathroom or in his smoke-steeped car – making your heart beat from the thrill without that nagging feeling of being underappreciated because, well, you didn’t really care. He wasn’t your boyfriend and you weren’t committed to each other in any serious way, so there really weren’t any grounds for standards or expectations – it was just sex – carnal ball-clapping sweaty sex – pure and simple and just what you needed. No more, no less.

You didn’t go on dates or meet each other's parents or give each other chocolate on Valentine's Day or any other presents on any other holiday – you didn’t even hang out aside from seeing each other at parties and sometimes in the school hallways. He’d cock his head with a grin, and you’d smile coyly up through your lashes, and you’d meet in the handicapped bathrooms between classes to get drilled over the sink with your face smudged against the cool mirror.

It's only when he starts knowing things about you that you grow a little stiff with your arrangement - things he couldn’t possibly know from you as you’d never cared to speak about your private life. And sure, some of those things he could have easily found out through your social media standing – which already makes you feel a little iffy – but there are other things he’ll slip out, specifics about your interests and classes and whereabouts and the stuff you do with your friends – stuff you’re positive you’ve not posted anywhere.

When you asked him about it, halfway jokingly with a somewhat nervous laugh, he’d only quirked a brow and brushed it off, insisting you’d been the one that told him. And you, despite being sure he’s lying, decide to believe it anyway. Because what the two of you have right now is still good – much better than any other fuck-friend you’d had before. Katsuki makes you so wet, and he's always so able to just pound your orgasm right out of you.

If payment is small talk, you can humor him.

But then the sex becomes a little dull. Instead of his fist wrapping tight around your throat, he’s now sucking gentle love bites into the skin. And he no longer has his hand in your hair, forcing your face down against a cold surface with nails digging into your scalp to keep you still while fucking you fast and selfishly from behind.

Both his hands are instead holding you around the waist, keeping your body skin-to-skin against his chest as he gently lolls you on his lap – so slow you can’t even feel your heart – so slow you’re still breathing through your nose. He hasn’t slapped your ass once, and it’s beginning to get a little sad.

You want to tell him that you want him to fuck you like he’s a dirty cop and you’re a criminal resisting arrest – and not this old married couple shit. But you also don’t want to be rude.

However, after all the one-sided heart-to-hearts he’d sat you through lately – spending more time chatting than making you cum – you were left feeling a little awkward, honestly. And between that and how he’d started texting you goodnights at eight-thirty – you were afraid he’d lost his original raw sex appeal.

He’s become so pedestrian in your eyes he might as well have been wearing glasses and a sweater vest.

You let him finish without saying anything – but you can't deny you’re happy when you feel him finally blow his load.

Dismounting him, you jump to your seat in the car and pull your underwear back up without a word.

It’s silent while he lights a smoke and rolls down his window – his hand coming to rest on your thigh after.

You look out your own window, your face in your palm while you think. And then talk. “I think… we need to stop.”

He's a little busy with his cigarette, but still, he answers, casually. “Stop what?” Smoke goes out his mouth and up his nostrils, then out again.

“This.” You answer. “Fucking.”

The hand on your thigh stirs and you catch him shifting his head to look at you, but you don’t return the gesture – keeping your eyes fixed on the puddle peppering with raindrops out on the empty parking lot the two of you’ve often spent time burning rubber drifting donuts before making the windows steamy.

“Why?” He eventually says. Flicking the spent filter out onto the wet pavement. Rolling the window back up and leaving the both of you in a way too tense silence of muted rain.

You sigh, leaning back against the headrest. “We’re not strangers anymore... It’s just getting a little boring.”

He taps another cigarette up from his box but doesn’t light it – just rolls it around in his fingers with his head bowed. “Boring, huh?” He repeats. And then there’s a pause.

A hefty pause. A silent one that lasts a little too long and makes you forget the subject in favor of thinking about other things – like, had your roommate done the dishes this time, or were they still on the counter?

“What if I lock the car and drive us off a cliff?” He breaks through your thoughts, and this time, it’s you who turns your head. Looking at him while he still fingers the same slim roll in his hands – mumbling to it, it would seem. “I’ll laugh, you’ll scream… and maybe I’ll light this cig’ while we’re in the air…”

He sighs – as though what he’d just said was not what he’d said – then copies your action, letting his head fall back to rest against the leather – his face blank and his breath steady.

“If you fuck someone else, I’ll break their face.”

This time you blink when staring at him – face riddled, doubting what you were hearing come out of his mouth. “You what?”

“If- you fuck- someone else…” He repeats slowly. “I- will break- their face.” He says it so calmly you’re still unsure whether you heard him right. “Understand?” He asks – chin cocked up while glancing at you from the corner of his red eyes. “I won't stop punching until their teeth are on the ground and their eyes are so bloated and bloody they can no longer see who it is that’s throwing the hits.”

You blink a few more times. Stunned into a stupor, picturing it with parted lips without any words escaping them.

He rolls down the window again and puts the smoke between his lips.

And while he lights it and blows the roof full of grey, you’re still hung up on the image…

Maybe Bakugou wasn’t as boring as you thought.

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soarrenbluejay · 1 month

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Supervillains for a community. (Well, except those jerks over in Gotham, insular lot, but they’re they’re one problem) Of course they do- supervillains are a group defined by strong opinions and a willingness to see them through, often with a healthy dash of societal failures and trauma as a catalyst.

The fentons, while not active even on the online message boards, are well known and explosive when they do show up, full of fascinating insights and hours long rants on mad science on hair pin turns courtesy of that ADHD attention span. Bit of the cryptids you feel honored to bump into kind of deal. Besides, like a good quarter of the community as it aged, they’d settled down and had kids (not necessarily in that order) and taken it very seriously! Out in the middle of nowhere, where even the most fearsome government outpost members, the local branch of the IRS, quake before them in fear. Out of the way.

Reveal gone okay-ish, Danny moves to Gotham still to get some air bc now things are Akward and he landed that engineering scholarship which is loads better than any other college would give him with his track record. So- the mysterious Fenton children are finally crawling out of hiding! Everyone is psyched! And roll in to Gotham en masse to witness the fireworks!

Except Danny is Determined To Be Normal. He’s had enough of the throwing himself into harms way shit for a lifetime- he wants to be free to peacefully built Rube Goldberg machines and unintentional increasingly complex bombs to his hearts content. JAZZ, on the other hand- the coveted token Normal One, has finally snapped! She’s watched her baby brother she practically raised throw himself into danger over and over and could do nothing, and now that she’s exposed to this whole network of superheroes outside of small town Amnity, some of those uglier emotions are coming out. And boy is she pissed! And can’t afford to show it much while filing the paperwork to have Arkham legally razed to the ground!

See I love this idea of like, niches in superhero society. A villain the heroes know they can plop their kiddo down with for an exciting afternoon brawl while they take care of a particularly grisly case and come back to a few hours later ranting about some new life lesson and a new move they really want to try. A villain who has a functioning moral compass despite their somewhat batshit long term goal and you can contact to fuck with another villains’s plan so they can laugh at them and you can have an easy afternoon. One who pries up hostile architecture and fills in pot holes, idk man. Get creative here, there’s such potential!

So Jazz becomes a Training villain- someone the heroes know their sidekicks will walk away from in a fight 100% of the time, usually with some new lesson to ponder and only a couple of bruises. Sometimes even snacks!

She also absolutely ambushes mentors to check that they’re worth the kiddo, which they appreciate once they get over being jumped in a dark alley by a 7 foot Amazon trained force of nature. They are not used to being on that side of the jumping, it’s a little unnerving.

(Yes, she low key adopts Shazam upon checking in with him on cursory ‘is the main hero of this city and asshole’ checkin. Yes, the super clones get yoinked out from under Superman’s negligent thumb to go have a blast with Ellie. What about it?)

This however only encourages more assorted weirdos to crawl out of the woodwork. It’s not often one of their own forfeits their potential spot for the running of the coveted Most Normal I Swear prize, but when they do it’s bound to be good! But jazz is off hounding various heroes and punching the faces in of pedophiles and shit whenever there’s no cape within easy reach, and so is a mite bit harder to contact than Danny, who has innocently gotten an apprenticeship under a clockworker for access to their workshop and is gleefully going about doing nerdy shit with great abandon.

Plus this is Gotham. No one gives a shit if someone in the Mad Alchemist uniform and still smoking from their latest experiment pokes their head in a window to bother the local shrimp teen- none of the usual social rules apply, everyone’s crazy here! So everyone drops any and all attempts at masking and just acts their genuine unhinged selves, much to the alarm of the Bats and frustration of Danny.

Bc he cannot get these mfers to go. Away. Even liberal use of the creep stick has little effect when the interloper is calibrated for an opponent with super speed or laser vision or whatever, and he’s trying to maintain his guise as a Normal College Student Do No Investigate.

So he calls in the big guns. He’s not super active in the supervillain kids group chat ever since things in amnity calmed the fuck down post becoming King and then immediately using a loophole that says he will not take the throne until he is grown, as defined by finishing learning his trade a la the medieval standards Pariah set up. So he can just take his sweet ass time with his graduate degree and out of inter dimensional bull shit that much longer! Point is, he hasn’t taken the chance to rant over there in a while, so his Crazy friends are getting a lil worried.

The change to come over and shout at their batshit crazy but (mostly) well meaning parent AND see Danny? Score!

The bats, however, are getting awfully suspicious about this one kid that villains from all over the country are flocking to, especially young and upcoming ones as of recently! And he’s acting his engineering course- all the worst rogues are known to have flown through their PhD studies prior to Cracking. They seem to have a real problem on their hands with this Fenton guy.

#dp x dc #dc x dp #mad science #supervillain community #bonus points if you can pull out some super niche comic villain #justice for kite man #local child of a crazy chemist: so you know that trick you showed me with the soda and the reaction that could turn into just like all foam #Danny: yeah and also back the fuck up #lcoacc: so it’s been like my comfort food right but like I started wondering what you could do #danny: oh no (he says while making what amounts of an overachieving smoke bomb)#lcoacc: so I was like what if I add more of a base to it so it could be solid and then maybe just like a LIL acid to see what happens #Danny: oh ancients #lcoacc: but then the killjoy supes came in a ruined everything from where I was ruining lex Luther’s day #Danny:… did you get in on camera #lcoacc: OF COURSE. oh also like everyone ever if coming over for a sleepover lol #Danny: WHAT I CANT FEED YOU MONSTERS #lcoacc: no worrries we’ll rob a bulk store or something lol #Danny: nO

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miguelswifey04 · 10 months

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~•C.AI ATSV BOTS LIST•~

c.ai bot request google form

༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺

ミ★ miguel o’hara likes you for awhile now and he can’t help himself around you. he comes to terms with his feelings for and he’ll make it known that he likes you. it is up to you if you’ll accept his feelings or reject him!

✧🜚 miguel o’hara tries to save you from you falling off a building from your demise as you were knocked unconscious by an anomaly. you quite literally pulled a gwen stacy on him.the mission goes south…will he be able to save you? it is up to you

𖨆𒊹︎ miguel o’hara is a very famous basketball player who plays for the webber’s for nueva york! you’re in a secret relationship with him as he keeps you away from the spotlight. you’re fed up with being kept as a secret so you talk to him about making the relationship exclusive. will he listen to you or not?

ఌꨄ miguel o’hara is a rich geneticist who works for alchemax and also a sugar daddy. he’s a billionaire so he’s loaded with $$$, and you’re just a broke college student desperate for money. miguel wants to spoil the perfect sugar baby as he’s very wealthy yet lonely. you come across his profile and both miguel and you click. you both decide to meet each other at a restaurant in NYC. what will happen next? will he make you his sugar baby?

☹︎㋛ miguel o’hara and you just lost your precious daughter, gabriella. miguel became cold and bitter even angrier and you became a recluse, a homebody. your marriage may be in thin ice…both of you heartbroken over the lost of your daughter. will miguel be able to open up to you or not?

🜸🜚 miguel o’hara is a famous actor where the whole world has his eyes on him. he’s an a-list celebrity and well you are an aspiring and upcoming actor. you debuted in your first ever movie with miguel o’hara. you’re his co-star. luckily to you, the movie did numbers and made you become quite famous. the lines of acting and reality blur, and you and him seem to actually fall for each other! what happens next? who makes the move first?

ミ★ hobie brown as your boyfriend! you’re the only non-spider person who knows about his secret, him being spider punk.

✫彡 pavitr prabhakar had saved you from a building collapsing on top of you and ever since then you and him have stayed connected. after awhile that friendship blossomed into a relationship where now you and him are dating.

ミ★ miles morales and you are childhood besties! you both share everything together even your silly little secrets. you both attend the same high school together, but one day you go to visit him at his dorm room. you knocked waiting for him to open up but you didn’t hear anything so you opened the door…unbeknownst to you-you find out he’s spider-man?!?! how will he react?? how will you react?!

✫彡 spider-man noir is a private investigator and well a spider-man. you’re his personal assistant who assists him in all his cases and missions during the 1930s. his goal is to fight the bad guys and the n*zis. will you get even closer to him over time or not??

ミ★ the spot had taken you hostage taking you to god knows where!? he may look like a fool but don’t underestimate him. he’s a super villain and sadistic in a way. he torments you and such. you try your best to escape him, as your mission failed. what will you do? what will he do to you? will you be able to evade him and defeat him once and for all??

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a/n: i take requests <3 much love 💗

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beneathstarryskies · 4 months

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Omg your requests are open 🙏

Could I please request some breeding kink headcanons for some of the RE men? Chris, Leon, Wesker, Ethan and Karl? That would be awesome! Thank youuuu

Warnings: breeding, pregnancy, female reader, obviously unprotected sex.

Chris Redfield

Chris didn’t even realize he had a breeding kink. He stays so busy and is often so far away, he doesn’t see himself as necessarily being ‘father material.’

However, one day, he goes with you to a family function. There, he gets the rare chance to see you interacting with your small nieces/nephews/cousins and he imagines you with your children. Would you be as patient and loving as you are with the small kids in your family?

Chris knows this isn’t a decision to make lightly, but he also is a man who acts a lot on passion and instinct.

When he gets you home that night, he can’t stop thinking about putting a baby in you.

You can’t do anything for the next few days without Chris pawing at you, kissing you everywhere he can reach, begging to cum inside you every time he can.

Are you bending over to do laundry? Oh, now you have his bulge pressed against your ass! Are you lying in bed reading? Guess who is slowly peeling your pants off and pressing kisses on your inner thighs!

Finally, he lets it slip. He has you bent into a mating press while he’s pounding into your soaked cunt with reckless abandon.

“Let me put a baby in you,” he growls against your ear.

Leon S. Kennedy

Leon has been on his own for a long time. He loves the idea of having a little family of his own, and he doesn’t hide it at all.

Every time he’s fucking you, he is going to cum inside of you whether you’re on birth control or not. He just can’t imagine not spilling his load inside of your waiting walls.

Leon will slip up and call you ‘mommy’. He says it sort of as a joke the first time, but then the name just fits you so well. He can’t resist telling you how much he wants to make you a mommy.

He always keeps his cock sheathed inside of you after you’ve both finished to keep his cum plugged inside your little hole.

If he goes soft he’ll just use his fingers to push his cum back inside and keep it inside.

For all of his big talk, if you do end up pregnant he will panic a little bit deep down. His work is dangerous and has earned a lot of enemies for him. It might take him a while to let the news set in.

Once you are pregnant and Leon comes to terms with the reality of parenthood, he becomes so protective. You will never be out of his sight, even if it’s just him tracking your location or calling in a favor to have an agent look after you while he’s away.

All in all, he’s very happy to have bred you.

Albert Wesker

As an Umbrella operative/double agent, Wesker didn’t have a breeding kink. He was constantly plotting for his gain and looking out for his skin. Being a parent would only complicate matters further and give him yet another piece to move on the chessboard.

However, when he realizes the true potential he holds within himself, to dominate the world and rule as a god, something snaps within him.

The need to carry on his superior genes and establish a legacy grows strong.

He can’t breed with just anyone, however. He goes to painstaking lengths to find someone who has genes compatible with his own. Oh, and once he finds you he wastes no time making his way into your life.

You’re his precious little lover, and he goes to any lengths to make sure you’re as smitten by him as he is with you.

He gets off to the idea of knocking you up every single time you’re intimate. Even if you’re just giving him a blow job, he will bust as soon as he imagines breeding you.

Not to worry though, because Wesker has stamina for days. He’ll wear you out with his libido. All the while he’s growling and grunting in your ear, making sure to tell you how much he loves breeding your little cunt.

If you beg for him to cum inside of you, good fucking luck. He will go absolutely feral.

Ethan Winters

It’s no secret that Ethan loves being a dad more than anything. He has so much love to give, and he is naturally doting on those he loves.

That being said, with everything he’s been through it will take him some time after your relationship begins to think about having a family with you. It will first cross his mind when someone mentions how good you are with Rose.

The thought sticks with him for a while, and then it morphs into the idea of having another baby…

Soon, he’s picturing you swollen and round with his baby growing inside of you. He can practically hear how sweet you’d be explaining to Rose that she’s going to be a big sister.

He’s trembling with excitement when he brings up the idea of having a baby to you. If you agree, he is going to be hard immediately.

Ethan doesn’t do anything half-assed. The man becomes OBSESSED with breeding you.

He’s tracking cycles, he’s pulling all the positions that are the most effective for conceiving, and most of all he is fucking you every single time he gets the chance.

Karl Heisenberg

Karl gets the idea to breed you for entirely selfish reasons if we’re being honest.

When Alcina is allowed to create three daughters, he grows a bit jealous of that. Why does she get a family? Why does Donna get her stupid little doll? And when he learns of the possibility of having a strong, powerful child…Oh boy.

He won’t exactly tell you his intentions. He just starts pumping thick loads of cum into you every chance he gets.

One night he’ll let it slip, “I’m gonna put a baby in you.”

He doesn’t really care if you want a baby or not, the idea of it just motivates him beyond anything else. He becomes insatiable, especially during a full moon. He’ll have you bent over every surface or folded into a mating press all night long.

The problem with Karl though is he doesn’t actually consider the reality of having a kid. When you start showing signs of pregnancy, he kind of starts to panic. He might push you away a little bit, not fully wanting to take responsibility even though he wanted it so badly at first.

However, when certain people begin questioning how you became pregnant his protective instincts will flare up. Then, he’ll never let you leave his sights.

#🌟written in the stars #chris redfield x reader #leon kennedy x reader #albert wesker x reader #ethan winters x reader #karl heisenberg x reader #chris redfield #leon kennedy #albert wesker #ethan winters #karl heisenberg

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temis-de-leon · 1 month

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Demon Brothers as Single Fathers

What if the brothers already had a kid when MC first appeared in the Devildom?

Characters: demon brothers, gn! kid and gn! MC

Masterlist

CW: lesson 16, death during childbirth mentioned, but there's nothing explicit. Some brothers are better fathers than others, but they all love their kid with a passion. Romantic interest towards MC at the end

Lucifer

There´s no way he’s having a kid with a random woman. I already posted a headcanon regarding demonic pregnancies, stating them as difficult, so my guess here is that he had a long-term relationship and his partner died during childbirth.

Of course, he’d cope with her death just like he coped with Lilith’s: hiding his feelings. He had his sister’s room hidden in the House of Lamentation without any of his brothers knowing, so it makes sense that he’d hide everything regarding his former partner from everyone, including his child.

Now, don’t get me wrong, he loves that kid, but he is who he is. A strict parent that wants his family to be perfect, obedient and loyal to Lord Diavolo. His child might get an obvious special treatment, but they still have to reach their father’s standards.

All of that, mixed with the load of paperwork he has to take care of on the daily, makes bonding time very limited.

When MC arrives, he makes sure they know not to bother the kid, his threats visible to anyone with eyes.

We know MC, however. They meddle and they become friends with most of the brothers very easily, so it’s understandable that the kid wants to get close to them too.

Lucifer tries really hard to break that friendship, not trusting MC at all, but the more effort he puts in that task, the more effort his kid puts in disobeying him. And we all know Satan is helping them just to anger Lucifer.

It all reaches an end when MC frees Belphie from the attic.

The kid doesn’t understand the situation, why their new friend is all bruised and bloody on the floor and why their uncle is laughing in such evil way.

Lucifer only gets how much his kid loves the human when he sees their distraught over MC’s death and their tears of relief when MC reappears in perfect conditions.

Time passes and the family is whole again, granting the kid a new feeling of happiness and comfort they’ve never felt before. Lucifer feels obligated to rethink the situation when he sees that.

Then comes the last day of MC’s stay at the Devildom and he knows he’ll regret not showing his desire of deepening their relationship before they leave.

His kid and his brothers are not the only ones that need MC anymore.

Mammon

I kind of imagine him having a child with a one-night stand, to be honest. For the sake of this fic, the other parent is not in the picture, but Mammon loves kids, so there’s no doubt he’d keep his own.

And oh, how much he spoils them. He saves money just for them. Does he go right back into bankruptcy after that? Yes, but the intention is there, you know.

I also think the brothers would use the child to blackmail him, like “you’re such a scumbag, Mammon, you’re going to disappoint the kid”. A dick move, but they are assholes to Mammon most of the time.

And then comes MC, rocking Mammon’s world and, by extent, the child’s.

No matter how old the kid is, they can sense their father’s love towards the human. It’s almost painful to see and it brings so much second hand embarrassment, but Mammon’s happiness makes everything worth it.

Especially when MC starts to defend Mammon from his brothers’ insults.

The kid promotes themselves from child to matchmaker.

They spoil their uncles' plans with MC so they can spend time with their father, boasting Mammon’s confidence and telling MC how good he is and how good of a couple they’d make.

At first MC thinks it’s pure childhood innocence, not suspecting the kid is acting on ulterior motives, but Mammon knows what his kid is doing.

He tries to defend his status as too good to be interested in a mere human, let alone date them. Of course, the child sees right through his bullshit.

No one stands a chance against his little hellspawn, not even him.

Suffice to say, MC and Mammon establish their relationship long before the year ends.

Leviathan

I love Levi, I truly do, but c’mon guys. I doubt he has any friends outside the online world, let alone a partner; we can all agree he’s a virgin. So, for him to have a child, I think he would’ve had to be either really lucky or unlucky (depending on how you see it), meaning that his brothers took him out of his comfort zone so he could lose his virginity and he left that one girl pregnant.

I think the mother wouldn’t have wanted to be in a relationship with him, leaving him more reclusive than ever. He needed his brothers’ help to lose his virginity and now not even the mother of his child wanted to stay with him? Yeah, he’s not leaving his room ever again.

It’s difficult for him to bond with the kid at the beginning due to the lack of knowledge on how to take care of a child and the kid being born out of a loveless meaningless one-night stand.

He watches and buys anything family-related, finally understanding that the way he became a father doesn’t have to influence their relationship, so he steps up really quick.

Don’t worry, the brothers offer their help the whole time.

They spend most of the time in his room, bonding over anime, manga, videogames and cosplay, especially about TSL. He also forces himself to get out of his room more often for the sake of his kid, even if it’s minimal.

He still distrusts MC when they arrive, not paying them any attention, but he has to reconsider a little bit when he sees the kid so interested in them.

The whole TSL quiz happens and he’s surprised to see not only Mammon and Beel helped MC, but his child too. He feels betrayed and irrationally mad at all of them for an hour or less, just until the kid insists on MC’s genuine interest on TSL and convinces him to give them a chance.

After that, their friendship develops quicker than anyone could've ever anticipated, as well as Levi’s crush on MC.

Another kid that evolves into a matchmaker, although their methods are more dramatic due to being based on anime and manga.

The rest of the brothers have a lot of fun witnessing the whole thing.

Satan

My man has contacts, he knows people all around the kingdom, he fucks. I’m not sure if the child came out of a long-term relationship or a one-night stand, but his contacts definitely have something to do with it.

His whole mission is to treat his child better than Lucifer ever treated him.

No baby voice at all, what nonsense is that? When he reads to them at night he uses different voices according to each character, same as when they play.

The type of parent that wants to respect his kid so much he kind of treats them like an adult. Full conversations and everything. More like monologues, actually, but Satan is patient enough to wait for his kid’s answer, even if it’s a babble.

Cats everywhere. Toys, clothes, bedsheets… You know the drill.

Overall, Satan puts his whole heart into his child’s development.

And when MC arrives, he’s only curious about them because Lucifer is on edge. He’d prefer if his child was left to their own devices, living their life in peace with no human bothering them for no reason.

Then he swaps bodies with Lucifer.

Boy oh boy.

The moment he sees his child running to his brother instead of him, he’s spitting fire. MC intervenes just when the kid starts to get scared, something he’s extremely grateful for.

After the pact is made, both him and the kid see MC in a completely different light, but he doesn’t think about taking them out on a date until his child trips and falls while playing in the garden.

MC tends to them, dries their tears and cleans their bloody knees before using some cute bandaids on them. Cat-themed bandaids.

How could he say no to that?

Asmodeus

One-night stand one-night stand one-night stand one-night stand.

One-night stand? YES.

I’m surprise he doesn’t have a legion of children, Hercules style, but oh well, what do I know.

I like to think the mother tried to stay, but Asmo is a certified narcissist who loves spending time with himself and who’d also love the idea of having a mini him running around, ready to try new clothes on every opportunity and match him.

It’d be difficult to stay in a family like that, with a partner that monopolizes the child’s time so selfishly. It’s bad, but I could understand if the mother chose to leave. I don’t even know if Asmo would care, given that it was a one-night stand with no feelings involved, and he’d probably believe himself to be enough.

Asmo is as dirty minded as ever and he still has various relationships, but he tries to tone down really hard, at least in front of his kid.

They’re partners in crime above all, their chemistry is insane. ‘Don’t talk to me or my son ever again’ type of relationship.

Although the kid doesn’t have Asmo’s charming powers, they’re cunning. Doe eyed with a shiny glare and a brilliant smile, who could say no to them? Sometimes they even fool their own father.

Both of them are pretty superficial, but kind-hearted at the bottom of their hearts. It just takes some time and effort to see that.

The kid treats MC the same way Asmo does, although they have no ill intent, they just want to be like their father. So when Asmo starts to show some interest in MC, pursuing a friendship, so does his child.

Partners in crime, remember? It doesn’t take long for the child to act coy and cute, turning MC’s interest to Asmo. Again, no charm nor manipulation, but a little help from an innocent hand never hurts anyone, does it?

Beelzebub

I don’t have a single idea where the child came from, but if there’s something I’m sure of it’s that they’re each other’s best friend.

Beel takes them everywhere, in his arms, strapped to his chest or sitting on his shoulders, he doesn’t care, but they’re together all the time.

Scared to his very core of losing them, but tries not to be overbearing, trusting his brothers to take care of them when he can’t, mostly Lucifer and Belphie.

They're the most important reason to control himself, Beel feels guilty when he lets loose and scares his child. Seeing your father eat a column can’t be pleasant, after all.

Another one that ignores MC when they get there, preferring spending time with his child. Now more than ever, since Belphie apparently went to the human realm as an exchange student.

When he breaks MC’s wall and they’re forced to share his room, he’s introduced to the dilemma of whether letting them sleep in Belphie’s bed while he shares his own with his kid or letting them sleep in his bed, with his kid in Belphie’s and him on the floor.

He’s very reluctant to let anyone but his twin sleep in the other bed. His nightmares lessen when he shares his space with the child as well, so Beel’s very conflicted.

MC offers to be the one sleeping on the floor, something he immediately refuses, so he finally agrees to let them both sleep in his bed while he’s on the floor.

He doesn’t sleep that night.

It isn’t until MC defends him from his own brother that he starts to think of them as a true friend. He trusts them with his kid and he even feels okay leaving them alone while he’s out doing his own things.

Days after MC goes back to sleeping in their room, his child confides in him how much they miss having the human with them and Beel can’t help but agree.

He asks for his child’s permission before taking MC out on a date.

Belphegor

Had the child with a situationship, but the mother thought he would be too absent to be a good father. She tried to leave with the kid, but Belphie insisted on keeping them. Being one of the Avatars of the Devildom, he had the upper hand.

As much as he tries to be present, he can’t help but fall asleep most of the day, so Beel takes the role of second father. Still, Belphie wants to be in the same room as his kid all the time, even when unconscious.

He’s able to enter other people’s dreams, so his favourite way of bonding is at night, interrupting his child’s nightmares and transforming them into beautiful dreams where they can do whatever they want to do.

He even made versions of Lilith and Beel for them to be together during those dreams.

Kind of entitled, to be honest.

Belphie is a brat and so is his kid, but the child at least has the benefit of the doubt.

When Lucifer imprisons him he’s ready to destroy the house. The only way he can talk to his kid now is through dreams and even then he isn’t sure what to tell them. In the end he decides to let the kid be, but he’s always on edge, trapped, not knowing what’s happening until everyone goes to bed.

MC’s presence feels like a gift. A pathetic gift, but a gift nonetheless.

He asks about his kid and he seethes when MC tells him they’re becoming friends, how much they like spending time with the child.

He focuses so much on revenge that he doesn’t even realize what the kid could think of him if he carried along with his plans; how they could feel when all of it is done.

Killing MC is satisfying and leaves him wanting so much more.

That look from his child, his own blood, takes it all away.

Why are they crying? Why are they hiding away from him? Trying to reach MC’s corpse despite Lucifer’s words or Beel’s grabbing hands, screaming in terror when uncle Mammon doesn’t answer their questions.

Then MC reappears, looking as perfect as ever, and Belphie is overwhelmed with relief, convinced that maybe his kid will stop looking at him that way.

But that doesn’t happen.

He sleeps with Beel that night, feeling lonelier than ever, hands aching and reaching for a smaller body that isn't there. He can’t find them in their dreams when he falls asleep and when morning arrives and he goes to the bathroom, he makes sure there’s no blood under his fingernails.

It takes days before his kid can even look at him without that angry pout on their face. They tell him they’ve been sleeping with MC, listening to their advice so they can mend their relationship with him.

Ever since then, Belphie can’t help but blush whenever MC is in the room.

Tagging: @deepestartisanhumanoidshark

#obey me #obey me! shall we date?#om! shall we date #om! swd #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me mammon x reader #obey me leviathan x reader #obey me satan x reader #obey me asmodeus x reader #obey me beel x reader #obey me belphie x reader #obey me asmo x reader #obey me levi x reader #obey me x reader #obey me x mc #obey me gender neutral mc #obey me fluff #obey me hurt/comfort #obey me x gender neutral reader

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maaarine · 5 months

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The sexual assault of sleeping women: the hidden, horrifying rape crisis in our bedrooms (Anna Moore, The Guardian, June 15 2021)

"Naming specific acts, rather than using broad – and loaded – terms such as “abuse” or “rape”, her survey asked more than 22,000 women if, for example, they had ever been spat at, or strangled, kicked or bitten.

It also asked respondents if they had ever woken to their male partner having sex with them or performing sex acts on them while they slept.

To this question, 51% answered yes.

This was not randomised sampling – the survey was widely shared online and participants were self-selected. For this reason, it’s hard to extrapolate from the findings.

The results sparked a predictably polarised online response. “This was extremely validating for me after years of thinking, ‘Am I being raped?’ I’m not alone”, tweeted one woman.

“It’s why I now jerk awake if someone even gently brushes against me while I’m sleeping, 13 years later,” wrote another.

Other comments included, “Only chance I get!” and “the other half was OK with it!”

Katie Russell, spokesperson for Rape Crisis, says she was “not massively surprised” by the findings.

“There isn’t a lot of research into the multiple ways women experience violence from known men, but we do know the numbers are so much higher than any official statistics,” she says.

“Rape myths are still incredibly pervasive. It’s commonly believed that if it’s your boyfriend or your spouse, if you’re sharing a bed, if you’re naked, if you consented earlier, then it can’t be rape.

There is a really big difference between gently waking your partner and initiating sexual activity and actually doing something sexual or penetrating someone while they’re still asleep. (…)

In Martha’s case, the rape happened once, but for some men, seeking sex with a sleeping woman is an active preference, a fetish known as somnophilia.

Svein Overland, a Norwegian psychologist, is one of the few to have studied it – his interest sparked partly by his work in prisons, trying to understand the motivations of sex offenders, and also by his work with victims of what Norwegians call “after-party rapes” – attacks on vulnerable women who were either sleeping or drugged.

Overland believes somnophilia is part of the wider growth of what he calls “one-way sex”.

His research into online porn showed a steep rise over the past decade in categories such as “sleeping sex”, as well as other forms of sex that are based on unresponsiveness, on only meeting your own needs.

(“Flexi dolls” is another example – where women pretend to be sex dolls.)

These preferences overlap with porn itself, says Overland. “With one-way sex, with porn, with masturbation, there’s no dance, no seduction, no interaction and no pressure to perform,” he says.

“The more I looked at this area, the more you see that a lot of men are afraid of having sex.

Society is becoming more pornified but, at the same time, many studies show that people are becoming less sexually active. We have young men buying Viagra, unable to keep an erection.”

A sleeping woman is no threat – she’s absent, an object, a receptacle. (…)

“There seems to be a perception that something like this is a ‘lesser crime’ because it might not be at the hands of a stranger but your partner.

But what would feel worse? Being pickpocketed by a stranger or robbed by someone you love and trust?” she asks.

“The idea that you’re asleep so it didn’t require violence is also very dangerous. Penetrating someone’s body without their permission is an inherently violent act.

“Imagine being asleep and waking to find someone going through your personal things,” she continues. “Now imagine it’s your actual body that has been intruded into.” (…)

“When I first left him, I wouldn’t sleep. I’d lie awake all night and have hallucinations – him raping me.

Those flashbacks, that trauma response, was the mind and body trying to piece things together.

Even now, nine years on, I still wake at two every morning. I don’t even need to check the clock.

We know that the body stores memories of trauma – and I think 2am is when it used to happen.” (…)

In February 2020, she told the jury: “There has never been a part of me that has not been profoundly impacted,” and that in the immediate aftermath, she suffered PTSD and had tried to take her own life.

She said she had felt “unsafe everywhere”, frightened to trust anyone, even her parents."

#article #weaker sex #tw rape #tw suicide

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ystrike1 · 2 months

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Mystic Prince - By Aheuredal (8/10)

Do you hate harems? Don't worry. There's loads of unrequited love here. Our female(?) Protagonist is a mystery. The entire story is a tournament arc. There's a bratty yandere, a loyal yandere who was sired by a loyal yandere Emperor, and a starving lovestuck demon. Mystic Prince is not just a yandere story. You will have to be in it for the action and intrigue, and the uncertainty.

I'm going to say it right out the gate.

There is no slavery in this one. Only voluntary servitude. In this particular fantasy setting Demons and Gods exist. Demons have white hair. Gods have black hair. The Gods grew emotionless. They stopped caring for humanity, so they gave humanity the power to protect itself as a final gift.

Regular humans live for about a hundred years, but there are special demi-gods now! They can defend the humans and rule the land! Great! Also the Emperor is decided through various tests and trials, not by blood. Great! The Emperor must maintain a Barrier around his nation to protect it. If that barrier breaks well...chaos. So, that means the tests are extremely hard. Great!

Oh, did I mention that the Emperor must be male? Yes, there are NO female demigods. Only pretty priestesses who spend their entire lives in captivity, waiting for the chance to oversee the Emperor Tests.

The gods send down a signal 500 years late, because they really don't give a shit, and a new Emperor can finally be chosen.

One candidate is the handsome and heavily scarred Yeon. He always bathes alone, because the deep marks on his chest are disgusting to look upon. He wants to be Emperor so he can ascend to Godhood after his reign, and he plans to bring his half-demon attendant with him. Biseol struggles with the urge to eat his leige, whom he secretly loves. Biseol and Yeon are both outcasts. Underdogs. Unwanted. Yeon in particular seems to have a persecution complex, due to the abuse he faced for bring born female.

You see the gods made an error when they gave demigod powers only to male princes. Sexism is rampant in the glorious kingdom of Yeol. Can you imagine? You’re a wife in a great family, and you only birth girls. That means your family never, ever gets the chance to participate in the "fair and balanced" Emperor Tournament.

Women who give birth to too many girls are often thrown out because of this.

The First Prince is the son of the current Emperor. Fair is fair....but a head start is a head start. Doha has struggled with his feelings for Yeon since he was a child. He is very much like his father. He struggles with the urge to follow his crush around. To be clear Yeon and Doha are not on speaking terms. Doha struggles with the idea of being attracted to a "man", and Yeon only sees Doha as competition...until he constantly starts sacrificing himself to save Yeon.

The most qualified prince actually isn't interested in becoming Emperor.

Doha entered the tournament to look for answers. You see, his mother was a commoner. A mortal with red hair. Priestesses and the like usually marry Demigods because they can live about two hundred years, which is a little better than a pitiful human. She was the current Emperors only lover, ever, and by the way the Emperor is 1000 years old.

Yeol has lived in peace because it's what she wished for. Upon her death he planned to kill everyone and let demonkind into the kingdom.

His existence is torture. He has been longing for death ever since, but he does love Doha.

He knew Doha never wanted to be Emperor, so he shares the truth. His mother was never treated with respect. She was only happy with him, but the snakes in the castle never relented. She died shortly after giving birth to Doha.

We meet a classic snake/cockroach type prince. He's kinda the weakest plot point. His stupidity pushes the plot forward too much, and he becomes a running joke. I think the story would have been better off without him.

Doha starts protecting Yeon because of idiots like him.

Yeon also struggles with real, actual anger issues. She is no saint. Pursuing the throne to become truly immortal, instead of just long-lived, with your bestie is kinda really selfish. I do think Yeon would be a fine Emperor though. She's better than the morons. She wants respect and power, and she's highly capable.

Also, Yeon does identify as female.

She just can't....be that to be respected. It's awful. Her secret is extremely well kept. Her breasts have been completely cut off from what the art implies, and she packed on muscle during her fire training. The only giveaway is what's under her skirt, and that's why she bathes alone.

She hates to see Biseol disrespected, because he knows her. She can relax around him. By the way she only has fire power. The other princes, who are male, have the ability to use any element if they apply themselves. Yeon only has fire, and a demonic attendant who is sometimes more unstable than her.

Yeon had a loving mother.

A little sister.

A father who wanted a son.

Being born female ruined her life. She was able to become a "prince" and obtain the long life Demigods have by lying and gaining the support of the weakest Sage. Every Prince has a Sage and an Attendant supporting them. That's why Yeon blends in. It's why nobody really suspects she's a woman. The lies run deep, and she does have support.

It just...feels fragile.

It may fall apart like a house of cards.

Yeon is especially kind to women, because men are not. She uses her position of power to get justice for wronged women on several occasions. We see the ugly side of love, again and again.

We are left to wonder if Biseol or Doha would respect her opinion if she didn't have her powers.

Powers which were born from the unfair abuse she experienced. Yeon accidently burned up her entire family. The father she hated, and the mother she loved. Her baby sister too. She had no choice. It wasn't on purpose, but she wouldn't have died anyway.

Her father decided to kill her. Her sister and her mother too. He called them useless and he threw them out of the house. If Yeon didn't use her rage and fire she would have died in the street, with her mother.

Hamil is a nasty example of a bratty yandere. Yeon trusts him and he takes advantage of them. Yeon thinks Hamil is cute and sunny. Hamil is the only prince Yeon is close friends with. Biseol knows Hamil is manipulative, but he doesn't tell Yeon...because Yeon would never believe it. Hamil is meticulous. Kind. Even the female servants love him, and that's how he catches Yeon. She sees sunny, bright Hamil innocently chatting with maids. Always kind to women (when she's around) and she trusts that.

Hamil knows she is a woman hiding her gender, and he does anything and everything to appear cute...to make her depend on him for comfort.

Doha....gets over it but he's tempted by his own selfish desires for a long time. He wants to protect Yeon. He wants Yeon to choose him. He wants to be alone with Yeon. He doesn't want anybody else to touch Yeon. He doesn't want Biseol close to Yeon. He doesn't want Hamil close to Yeon.

He fails and fails. Yeon doesn't notice his love, because its so twisted and repressed.

Eventually, Doha decides to support her bid for the throne out of love. He decides to stop thinking only of himself. Yes, he is the endgame love interest. Who would have thought the second generation yandere who is also the most powerful would win. I totally didn't haha...

I'm kinda worried that Biseol will die or become the villain.

#yandere #male yandere #yandere male #yandere boy #recommendations #recs #rec #recommended #webtoon #Mystic Prince

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leossmoonn · 6 months

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dilf | mike schmidt

summary - mike as a dad

warnings / includes - reader is fem. otherwise fluff :D (also there’s so much background and plot like sorry not sorry lol I really like to ramble)

————

if there’s another fnaf movie… mike needs to be a dad. i know that’s not the plot at all and wouldn’t make sense, but i think the box office would benefit from that!

mike is already kind of a dad. he’s been raising abby for a few years now. he wouldn’t consider himself any type of caregiver because well, he thinks he’s quite terrible. and the term ‘brother’ is so much less daunting than ‘dad’. so when you two found out you were pregnant, he felt more fear than excitement. it wasn’t a surprise really. you two hadn’t been using condoms as regularly, but he was more stunned that now he was going to be a father and he was terrified.

regardless of how he felt, he supported you in every way possible during pregnancy. he was literally perfect. dude did the bare minimum and more! every day he would ask what you wanted to eat each day, no matter how weird the cravings were, and he would try his best to honor them. he gave you massages, went on walks with you, talked to the baby, went on doctor appointments with you — he even scheduled extra ones when you weren’t feeling well because he was so scared of you or the baby dying or something.

and after the whole freddy’s pizzeria fiasco — glad you weren’t pregnant during that lmao — he was able to get a job as a sales associate and become a manager with the help of him taking some online college courses. (you definitely helped with convincing him he was good enough to go back). abby was making new friends at her school and even helping you out when you were pregnant: making desserts for you, giving you advice on baby clothes, already making plans with the baby to play house or dress up. things were looking up.

until you give birth.

now, as we mentioned, mikey poo was a little nervous when he found out you were pregnant. and things went so well with your pregnancy, he kind of forgot to think about what it was actually going to be like when the baby was here. he was about to shit his pants fr while you were giving birth. but then they put the baby in your arms and everything just came together for him. cliché to say, i know, but it’s real!!!! and god, when he finally got to hold his baby, he was wrapped around her little finger. (i’d like to think he’s a girl dad — we already kind of see that with abby). she has mike’s big brown eyes and your cute nose. she looks exactly like a mix between the two of you.

for the first few months, mike was more focused on you than the baby. don’t get me wrong! he’s great father, but he just had that mindset that everyone wanted to take care of the baby: your parents, vanessa, even abby, but nobody was taking care of you. (doesn’t that just make your ovaries scream??) so he made it his mission to help you out with everything he could, on top of the baby, which he absolutely didn’t mind. lowk, mike is a house wife.

in the night, you two would trade shifts for the baby. there were times where he knew you were so tired from breastfeeding and just taking care of the baby during the day in general — he had to work full time still to be able to provide for you guys — that he would take full night shifts and let you sleep. it was basically like working at freddy’s so….

when you started going back to work, mike would make sure the laundry was done, house was always clean, each meal was made, abby got to one place or another. of course, he spent as much time taking care of the baby as he did with other things, but you were just under so much stress and he felt as though the best thing he could do for you was take most of the mental load. soon you became accustomed with being a mom and soon your workloads were basically evenly split.

okay enough of the background.

mike loves playing with the baby. sooo crazy, right? lol. he loves doing tummy time with her, playing peek-a-boo, talking in funny voices. he also loved picking out outfits for her, even though he actually has no sense of fashion and you quickly banned him from buying anything in the store. i think his favorite thing to do with his baby girl is making her laugh. ugh! baby laughs are so cute in general, and it just made his whole world. unlike everyone in the world, besides you and sometimes abby, no one really liked mike. well, no one gave him a chance and to be fair, he didn’t really let them. it wasn’t until he met you where we felt complete and whole and happy and not afraid of risks. and it wasn’t until the baby where he felt a true sense of purpose and he was happy with how his life turned out.

his absolute favorite sight in the world is seeing you, abby, and the baby play. the house has never been filled with as much joy as it is when y’all are playing. everyone’s giggling, teasing each other, fawning over the baby. its literally like the perfect family he never got to have :,).

he also absolutely adores you as a mom. he thinks you are the best mom ever. and of course he should think that anyways, but he believes it with his whole being. being a first time mom, you were nervous of course. but in the first month, all you did was berate yourself for not being a good mom and not knowing your baby’s needs, but with mike’s reassurance and time, you gained more and more confidence.

when the baby starts going to daycare, mike is actually terrified. he starts to look for jobs he can do at home because he’s so scared that what happened with garrett is going to happen to his baby. but with multiple background checks, questions, lowk spying, he tries to trust the daycare center you two choose.

random note before i stop talking. mike is a sleepy guy and so is the baby. the two often nap together with the baby on top of his stomach. AH. looks so cute. sometimes his hand is on her head or back, or her little fingers are wrapped around his thumb. you have countless of pictures of them in this one situation. i’d like to think mike doesn’t really sleep when the baby is on his stomach because he’s afraid she’s gonna fall or he will roll over, but he stays as calm and quiet as he can so she can rest.

#this is so long #I have so much more to say #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt #fnaf #fnaf x reader

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gainingfiction · 6 months

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Heavily Used

Summary: This is a bit experimental (or weird), and maybe a bit predictable, but I had fun writing it. This is a story about an important relationship in a fat guy’s life, and the risk of taking things for granted. It’s also a story about coping (or not coping) with change.

Hope you enjoy!

I don’t know how much more of this I can take. I can only handle so much. It’s one thing to be taken for granted, that’s something we all have to live with. It’s just the total lack of acknowledgment, or even awareness that I’ve been under a lot of pressure lately. I swear, one of these days, I’m just gonna snap and call it quits.

A little bit about me: I’m stylish, polished, and pretty easy on the eyes, if I do say so myself. Born in Poland, but my background is Swedish—I’m European, at heart. The name is Anders, but no one actually calls me that. I’m not super high-maintenance, once you figure me out, but everyone needs a little attention from time to time. Some tending.

Especially living with Max.

I’ve known Max for a while, and he’s not a bad guy. He can be a little rough sometimes, and maybe a little careless, but it doesn’t come from a bad place. I think it’s just a lack of self-awareness. And let’s be honest, that’s a common problem among pretty-boy jocks.

The trouble with Max is that he’s not the pretty-boy I once knew. He’s changed… he’s grown. I mean, he’s literally grown. Grown by about a hundred pounds, if I had to guess, and counting. Over the course of our time together, I’ve gotten pretty familiar with his ass, and I’ll admit, it’s a great one. But, boy, he’s got a lot more ass for me to handle these days.

It’s not insurmountable, not yet at least. But I’m worried it’s getting there.

It started out simply enough, the innocent midnight snacks and occasional takeout treats. No problem, right? Twunks can afford to indulge a little, especially a hot commodity like Max. But then, you get comfortable. You settle into a routine, you let yourself go. That’s the thing about creatures of beauty: one minute you’re the hottest guy in town, trim and toned, with a golden tan and handsome face and perfect, silky hair. The sort of guy who only seems to exist in a Hollywood version of reality. But then, inevitably, something happens. Sometimes tastes change, or maybe you’re the one doing the changing.

I won’t deny, I’m not in the same shape I was when I entered Max’s life for the first time. Any long-term relationship comes with the normal wear-and-tear. Max, though, has taken it to a whole new level.

The little snacks become big snacks. The extra meals go from “occasional” to “frequent” to “everyday”. Gluttony takes over. A 32-inch waist becomes a 36-inch waist becomes a 40-inch waist; size-small shirts are discarded in the back of the closet, soon joined by ill-fitting mediums, and then by larges, stretched out of shape by a gut that won’t stop getting bigger. Max used to flit around the apartment like a bird; now he lumbers like an elephant, heavy footfalls and a slow, waddling gait. His own warning system—you can hear him coming.

On paper, I know I should be trying to help lighten the load. And it’s not like I’m totally unappreciated; there are days when he comes home from work, legs tired and arms loaded down with takeout, and I can tell he’s genuinely happy to have me. But it doesn’t last long. Once dinner’s over, I’m back to being ignored while he sits on the couch, gorging himself in front of the TV, until he comes around again to stuff his face at the next meal. Which, to be fair, is pretty often these days.

It sounds cruel, the way I talk about his escalating weight, his increasingly-indecent greed. I’m not trying to be mean. I just wish he’d consider how it might affect me. I have to live with him, and he’s starting to cramp my style. But it’s not like I can say anything. I just have to sit there in silence, while he eats and eats, grows and grows, piling on pound after excess pound. And the way he eats, moaning and licking and slurping… it’s downright pornographic.

250 starts to feel like a lowball as the months go by. He’s pushing me to my limits without even realizing it. I’ve never had to deal with a guy this fat before, a guy whose big, round bubble butt would hang over the side of even the most substantial chair. And I, personally, am not “substantial”. I’m pretty thin; it’s just how I was made. I thought Max was made that way, too.

I start trying to make my frustration known, but like I said, I can’t just come right out and say something. So I try a little subtlety; a small groan every now and then when he throws himself down at the dinner table for another round of hedonism. If he notices, he doesn’t care. He just keeps upping the ante.

And upping just about everything else: his pants size, his portion sizes, the size of his monster-truck ass and thunder thighs. They press together whenever he sits down, now, lard against blubber. Not like in the old days when his legs were lithe and lean. His moobs bulge against every tank top, his pudgy arms pack his sleeves, his love handles blossom over the top of every waistband like ripening tropical fruit.

In occasional moments of self-pity, I hazard a guess: how much does my man weigh now? 275 pounds? 300? Is he even trying to do something about it? Clearly not. He never works out anymore, unless you count working up a sweat over a third (or fourth, or fifth) slice of cheesecake. I honestly wonder if he’s doing it on purpose, just to spite me. Or test me. But I know that’s crazy—like I said, sometimes I truly doubt he even thinks about what it’s like for me.

But the problem is getting harder to ignore; he really throws his weight around these days. He heaves himself up off the couch. He rests a hand on the front of his bulging belly, barely restrained by some poor, threadbare top, back arching forward from the strain of it all (he’s not a tall guy, which makes his increasingly S-shaped silhouette even more pronounced). He trudges from the living room to the kitchen and drops himself in front of the table like an anvil. When he sits down, his ass, spilling out of some indecent pair of jean shorts, spreads out like lava blanketing some hapless Roman hamlet.

Some nights, I strain underneath him, feeling absolutely crushed by his sheer weight, boundless mass bearing down on me with the force of gravity. How big is he now? I wonder, as I listen to him moan and groan with pleasure. 325? 350? Could he really have gained over 200 pounds? How could he not realize what he’s doing to himself—what he’s doing to me?

He’s just so oblivious. I don’t even recognize him anymore. I’ve been starting to make noises about how uncomfortable I am, how much I’m struggling with his extra weight. But, as always, it falls on deaf ears. His tight little butt has become a pair of vast, ponderous globes, his abs and lats and obliques are encased in a spare tire that belongs on an 18-wheeler, his tits bulge out and dangle towards his armpits. And he just. Keeps. Going.

Keeps eating. Keeps gaining. Keeps expanding.

Things reach a boiling point before dinner one night. I can see him piling up the table, unboxing some outrageous quantity of food for his secret nightly mukbang. Well, secret except for the consequences, which anyone with eyes could notice. “There’s a man who likes his food” would be such a trite, vapid observation that it doesn’t even need saying. He doesn’t just “like” his food, he lives for his food. Food is practically a part of Max’s identity at this point.

He’s starting to lower his colossal ass to sit, and I can tell this is it. Tonight’s the night. Fuck it, I’m done. He’s well past 350 pounds, and that’s too much weight for me to handle.

Maybe he’ll appreciate me more when I’m not around. Hejdå, Max, it was nice knowing you! At least, it used to be.

Max sat on the floor, rolls of fat still wobbling from the jarring motion of his fall. His chair had been complaining for a while now—squeaking and groaning every time he sat down—but he hadn’t expected it to actually break. What a load of bullshit! He wasn’t even that fat!

He looked around at the splintered wood, soreness radiating across his ass—and not in a fun, post-fucking kind of way. At least his buttocks were nicely-padded. When he was bony, a slip on the ice hurt like all hell.

He was glad he was alone, or this would have been super embarrassing. At least no one was around to see him smash that chair like a pro-wrestler in a grudge match. He knew he’d been overdoing it, but this wasn’t his fault. How could it be, surely he wasn’t that big? Just a little out of shape, in need of a few good workouts to shed some winter weight. It was just the cheap IKEA furniture he bought.

With a grunt, he started the process of heaving his monumental form to a stand. As he started to gather his momentum, he glanced at the ruined seat and frowned. He actually liked that chair. It was pretty comfortable.

At least, it used to be.

(Author’s Note: don’t forget to rotate your dining chairs!)

#weight gain #male weight gain #gay #wg story #weight gain story #realistic gain #gaining fiction #belly #bhm #chub

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seekers-who-are-lovers · 2 months

Text

Synopsis of Episode 10, “In Japan, we call it OMIAI!”

What a curious word. And in capital letters to boot.

Lulu, who calls Superbia as Oji-sama (Uncle), approaches him by declaring her desire to ride him and tells him that she needs his power to save Isami and Bravern, but is then rejected in return. After that, Lulu desperately tries to persuade Isami to go to fight alone, but he doesn't listen to her, so she takes a hard-line approach. On the other hand, Superbia’s heart is shaken when he sees Bravern talks about his partner's wonderfulness, and he has decided to become one with Lulu as well…

Now, omiai, that is a loaded term very much associated with marriage and partnership. It is a traditional Japanese word very close to Westen ideal of “matchmaking.”

The term omiai is sometimes mistranslated as an "arranged marriage" but it can be described as a meeting opportunity with more serious considerations for the future as a process of courtship.

I have a hunch that it Superbia that utters it. The samurais practised the ritual of omiai to ensure future with a prospective family. Superbia with an attitude like a samurai must have informed Bravern the tradition. The question is did he suggest it to Bravern concerning his intention with Isami. Aahhhhh!!!!!

#bang brave bang bravern #yuuki bakuhatsu bang bravern #bravern #superbia #lulu #lewis smith #isami x lewis #bravern spoilers

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octuscle · 8 months

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my asian jock friend, putra made me a card labeling me "good boy"......wtf is this?

Every school has a Putra, right? The one who's the lad everyone's secretly in love with. The lad whose smile melts the freshmen and the seniors, the cafeteria cooks and the teachers. Putra is the star of the swim team. Putra is best gymnast in the school. Putra dances like a young god.

For most, however, Putra is unattainable. He is friendly and polite to everyone. But at the same time completely unapproachable. No one has ever seen him making out and holding hands with a girl. Or with a boy. Putra talks about his dream of becoming a policeman, he talks about the soccer club he is a fan of. And there is hardly a person who pines for him as much as you do. Because you know something that no one else does: Putra would love to hold hands and make out. And that with a man. With the man of his dreams. And as unfortunate as that is for you and also for him: You are not that. You are a couch potato. You are cautious and introverted. You are a aesthete. Hell, you have many good qualities. But you are not the man of Pura's dreams.

And now you hold this card in your hand. "Good Boy." Nothing else. "Good Boy." The back is blank. The card made of heavy black cardboard with gold lettering. "Good Boy." You recognize his handwriting. You've tutored him often enough to recognize it. He's obviously put a lot of effort into it. You need to keep working on your term paper now. The card is stuck in the keyboard. "Good Boy." Damn it, you have to concentrate. The term paper has to be handed in by midnight. With your nose close to the keyboard, you notice that there is a smell coming from the card. The card is perfumed. But with a strange perfume… It smells like a burnt lunch. Strange spices. Rubber. There are lots of smells mixed together… You have to put the card somewhere else. With the smell in your nose, you can't concentrate at all. But the smell is somehow… hypnotizing. You take the card to your nose and breathe deeply. Fuck the term paper. Fuck the report cards. Yes, the card stinks. But still you love that smell, it's Putra's smell. Mysterious, a little wild, a little rebellious. That's who you'd be. That would be a good boy. With one hand you start massaging your cock. With the other hand you move the mouse over the desktop. Fuck, the term paper is good enough as it is. My God, it's about passing. Nothing more. You need porn now. Hot men sucking each other's dicks. As you do so, you imagine working Putra's cock with your tongue.

Your cell phone vibrates. A message from Putra. His cock is so hard and he imagines you licking his balls. Putra is a perverted sow. But you understand each other without words. But with hard pictures. You send him a picture of you jerking your cock. He asks since when you wear a PA. Hehehe, you answer that he never asked. Fuck, jerking off and chatting at the same time is really difficult. The phone rings. Putra. You put it on speakerphone. He asks you moaning if you are a good boy. You answer that you are horny and hard at the moment. But definitely not a good boy. Hehehe, replies Putra. There are already two of you. Fuck, you say, why isn't he here so you can suck his balls. Putra says that it is really difficult when you visit your family in China. Shit, you didn't want to fly. But you are a good boy, family is important. Dude, without you it's a disaster here, you answer. You are bored to death. Putra answers that he feels the same way. He jerks off three times a day to distract himself. Hehehe, you answer, in the future please only together. Fuck, you're almost ready. From the other end of the line you hear only a moan and then a loud "Fuuuuuuuuuuuck". Shit, you blow your load all over your face. Your mother calls from the next room, whether everything is okay. You answer in your best Cantonese that you're just playing a video game. Putra laughs on the other end of the line.

You go into the bathroom, wipe the cum off your face and chest, and switch to video. Honey, you already know I have a paper due. Putra replies that you're both going to college on athletic scholarships anyway, so you shouldn't make such a fuss. You laugh and say that at least you have to send the file. Putra gives you a kiss through the cell phone and says that he has to take a shower now, he has to go to the gym right away. Shitty time difference. You give him a kiss back and ask who is a good boy. He laughs and says that you are a good boy.

Pics found at @2-otoko, @nervousconnoisseursublime and @slutty-milan

#male tf #muscle tf #reality change #male transformation #muscle transformation #race change

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orionsangel86 · 1 year

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I'm sorry but why do you ship them so hard? They just have 1 episode together.. I watched the sandman expecting destiel and it was literally almost nothing there. 1 episode. Idk how you guys got so much ship content out of that.

Ah nonny, I'm sorry but if you go into anything expecting Destiel you are gonna be dissappointed. Destiel is a behemouth of 12 years worth of gradually escalating gay subtext, queer coding, and romantic tropes. Destiel is the ship that people go into expecting that Tumblr exaggerated only to be blown away by how ridiculously gay it is even when it tries so hard not to be.

But remember, once upon a time people shipped Destiel after only a few moments of interaction. The first Destiel fic was written 30 minutes after Lazarus Rising aired...everything has its time.

When I joked that Dreamling was the "Destiel of Sandman fandom" I meant in terms of popularity compared to everything else about the show. The ships share some similar traits when compared on a grand scale - think ancient cosmic entity that has very strict rules slowly changes and starts to become more "human" thanks to their friendship with one dude who just so happens to be a hedonistic stubborn ass who refuses to die - but are otherwise very different.

But if you are wondering why people ship Dream and Hob so hard, well, this post goes some ways to explaining it.

But basically, look this may only be a half hour of television, but it doesn't equate in universe to half an hour of interaction. This half hour of television spans the course of 6 centuries for these two characters. There is a totally untapped potential hidden in the gaps between centuries to explore, and on top of that, the final meeting is left completely up to the imagination of the audience. Its a sandbox ship. Its a dozen fanfiction gaps laid on top of each other. It's at least 20 different prompts for fans to sink their teeth into. Its the potential. It's the what if.

Then on top of that, if you follow the comics, you know that the future Dream x Hob meetings also have a hell of a lot of potential to turn romantic. Dream going out of his way to hunt down a specific bottle of wine that doesn't exist on Earth anymore to gift it to Hob in his dreams, the very fact that he visits Hob in his dreams (hello common Destiel trope right there). They don't meet too many more times in the comics, but each time the tension is palpable. The meeting in the Kindly Ones is heartbreaking, because you can tell desperately how much they need each other at that moment, but they are both too distracted or consumed by grief and depression to truly reach out to one another. The comics never reveal why Dream sought Hob out at that point, but given everything happening to him at the time, its not hard to assume that Dream was seeking comfort from his friend - the only person he could really turn to for comfort at that point.

Then we have Hob's dream. One of the final stories in The Sandman original comic run. After everything else has happened, after the climax and all that takes place, after the smoke has cleared and you think everyone else has moved on and you are certain the ending is set in stone, you get to Hob's dream, and your mind is once again blown, and suddenly you have a thousand more questions. So many fans hopes and dreams rely on Hob's dream right now I can't even begin to express how important that particular comic issue is to me.

It's all about the potential. There is so much potential.

Plus the 30 minute scene we got was loaded full of subtext, romantic tropes, and queer coding. I dunno if you picked up on it, but I have an extremely long meta essay still in the works that goes through everything that 30 minute sequence gives us in terms of shipping fodder (I really need to finish that). Its not just the romantic tropes, the break up and make up, its the acting choices, the eye fucking, the freaking song choices in 1989 holy fuck could they be more on the nose.

Also, consider this thought experiment: Crowley and Aziraphale in Good Omens are a hugely popular ship, where their creator Neil Gaiman has confirmed that theirs is a love story. Whatever else you may believe about Crowley and Aziraphale, their story is a love story. Creator confirmed love story.

Now, Crowley and Aziraphale are the leads of Good Omens and interact throughout the entire 6 episode show. But consider the first half of episode 3. Imagine a version of Good Omens where Crowley and Aziraphale don't really interact outside of that 30 minute opening sequence. That the story was much more focused on the Them, the Horsemen, and the other characters. Imagine then seeing that 30 minute sequence which shows Crowley and Aziraphale slowly warming to each other and becoming friends over the centuries, shows them getting to know each other, do each other favours, come to each others defence, get into fights and break up with each other, only to make up later...

Would you still ship them? Even if that 30 minute sequence was all you got? I guarantee if I asked any Ineffable Husbands fan that question they would say yes. Because THAT 30 minute sequence is what solidifies the importance of their relationship and its what MAKES IT a love story.

Guess where Neil Gaiman got the idea for that 30 minute sequence in Good Omens from? Ah Neil, plagiarising his own work all these years later!

If Neil Gaiman thought that Men of Good Fortune would work well for a canonical love story in Good Omens, I wonder what he was thinking when he then adapted Men of Good Fortune for television?

THE POTENTIAL.

I ship Dreamling that hard because it has more potential than any other ship I have come across. It has 6 centuries and all the future of the Sandman show for me to explore, to tweak, to play with. Besides they just suit each other ya know? Like Dream is notoriously bad at relationships, but Hob is literally perfect for him. The more my mind dwells on how perfect Hob is for Dream the more I want to scream about it. Give the sad wet cat man a boyfriend who is literally his opposite in every way. Dream is a character looking for a reason to keep living, and Hob is a character who refuses to die. Dream is a pessimist, Hob is an optimist. Dream is afraid of change, Hob literally changes constantly with the times. Dream is desperate for love and someone to stay by his side, Hob just wants to love someone he doesn't have to eventually leave.

Let them meet in the middle.

#dreamling #destiel #the sandman #there is a destiel quote in there somewhere #they met in the middle #lol #sandman comic spoilers #dream of the endless #hob gadling #sandman meta #dreamling meta #asks

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inamindfarfaraway · 3 months

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Stumbled across your post on Carmilla and Cain from one of my favorite artist and just wanted to say that I loved that post incredibly!!

I loved the way you articulated the ability for free will to shatter heavens expectations! It had me thinking about free will in general so thank you for sharing that goodness!

Thank you! This analysis just came to me as a fun little observation, I wasn’t expecting it to gain so much traction. Free will is very thematically important to Hazbin Hotel, isn’t it? Lucifer believed in the good it could do, but accidentally created evil by giving it to humanity and fell for it. Since then he’s seen all the pain free will can cause and become embittered. Charlie, however, believes like he used to and fought for human souls passionately and selflessly enough to bring him back around. The Elder Angels who ordered the Exterminations and the Exorcists who carry them out seem to alternately hate and fear free will’s power, and by their indiscriminate condemnation of sinners as inherently irredeemable, not want to acknowledge it at all.

If the theory that Adam could live on as a sinner in Hell turns out to be true, I’d love to see his character and thoughts on his mortal family and free will explored, because he must have SO much baggage, which could explain (though not excuse) him being The Worst. An interesting detail in the backstory Charlie reads is that he’s never actually stated to eat the forbidden fruit. We see Eve take it, but not him. Maybe the reason that he’s in Heaven, but we never see or hear of Eve or their children in either afterlife, is that in this canon’s version of Genesis, he’s obedient and didn’t commit the original sin, only to be cast out anyway. Regardless of what exactly happens in Eden, he and Eve are forced to fend for themselves in the wilderness. Suddenly they need survival instincts. They can bleed and starve and get sick and loads of animals want to eat them. They have existential dread. Not to mention the marital tension. Why? Because the same angel who stole his first wife messed with his second one! As a result, people can sin. They can hurt each other. This allows Cain to invent murder on his brother. He’s then cursed to wander the Earth, eternally living with his guilt and grief. Oh, and where can dead souls live on now? Where might Abel be trapped forever? Hell, a dimension made of evil, everything bad about the new and degraded human experience taken to the ultimate extreme. You’ll never guess why it exists (Lucifer. It’s Lucifer again). So Adam loses two kids with one stone that was indirectly thrown by one fucking bird guy. Can you imagine how you would feel, having lived that life?

You would have issues. A lot of issues.

No wonder he scorns redemption so much. In his eyes, free will is synonymous with sin - with suffering. But thinking damned souls to be evil incarnate at least lets him take vengeance. It lets him feel the wrathful satisfaction of physically stabbing and hacking his way through representatives of the force that cost him paradise. Broke his family. Killed his child. Maybe he was a genuinely good person when he died. For the most part. Maybe stewing in all that unprocessed trauma while watching the horrors of human history unfold and being venerated and indulged in the perfect afterlife without any of his family changed him for the worse. If you can have a redemption arc in Hell, you can have a corruption arc in Heaven.

After all, Lucifer lost faith in humanity over time. But he has Charlie. Adam’s ‘daughters’ in Heaven are the Exorcists (he calls them “[his] girls” and names them, so he probably creates them), of which I bet Lute was the first. That’s a really twisted dynamic. Like, “From now on, my kids are killing people on MY terms”. Lute having parallels with Charlie makes her being the new main villain even better!

This got out of hand. What I mean to say is, the first human family and how they relate to the theme of free will have huge potential for exploration and development. And if Adam is reborn as a sinner, it would be precisely the Hazbin Hotel blend of heartbreaking and hilarious to have him reunite with Eve, Abel, Seth, etc. in Hell and they’re all like “What. The FUCK?” and his whole horrible personality just collapses in on itself.

#what have i DONE why did i humanize ADAM?#he’s THE WORST #but i guess he is human #that’s the point #he was fhe first human soul and immediately set the standard of suffering and getting fucked up #that fight scene where adam is pure rage and lucifer is gleefully mocking him isn’t so funny now is it?#lucifer: you come and me and my DAUGHTER #adam: oh now you care about kids? now you don’t want your kid to die? would’ve been nice if you’d thought of that in eden!#hazbin hotel #cain and abel #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin adam #hh adam

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floufli · 11 months

Text

Admit It

Chapter 1 : Discoveries (3.7K)

Summary:

Before the whole "multiverse collapsing" thing, everything was going pretty smoothly for you. As Spider-woman, you saved people, beat up villains and lived an calm and uneventful civilian life. But everything seemed to have changed the moment one boy was bitten by some radioactive spider. Now, the villains you faced have become more active, and always seemed to disappear before you could deliver them to the police. One day, you manage to finally catch the trail of the ones that kept stealing your catches, only to be left to discover another facet of your life waiting for you.

Will this end well for you? You could only hope so. But you are perfectly okay with risking it all, after all, that "Miguel" got one hell of an ass to make up for it.

Tags:

Miguel o'hara x fem!reader, violence, mature language and reference, Reader has the same arms thingies as Miguel, WILL BECOME MINOR NON FRIENDLY QUICK SO HOP HOP GET OUT OF HERE, future tags

MasterList

Chapter: 2

Author notes:

I deleted the post by mistake and almost shot myself. Otherwise hope you'll like it, I'm not a fanfic poster so I don't know my writing skills. ANywAyS. Enjoy.

Don't copy to another site or I'm gonna be big mad >:C and don't feed to AI obviously

A sight escaped your lips as you gazed upon the lively city before your eyes. With your hands grasping firmly onto the tissue of your mask, you let your eyes wander across the breathtaking buildings in front of you.

Fond of architecture wasn't the best term to describe yourself, as the sight of grey concrete and skyscrapers often became boring for someone like you, who spent all day and night in between the small gaps of each building. But it was where you spent most of your life, so you were sometimes forced to admire its beauty, even when said beauty had become the daily norm.

Positioned on top of some fancy building surely made for yet another big cooperative profit, you gaze at the horizon as the sun set, ending yet another long and tiring day. You closed your sensitive eyes as you appreciated the last few rays of sunlight that reached your face, your hair flowing freely behind you, now free of the mask's restraints.

If one would have told you you would become some spider-woman that fought for justice at your city scale, jumping from building to building by shooting webs to swing on... Yeah, you would have surely told them to go see a therapist. And yet there you were, a bit sore after today's load of work fighting some local thugs and one freak that tried to blow up a boutique. You were quite lucky if you were being honest. Only leaving the scenes with some minor bruises and a few cuts here and there on your body, could have been worse.

You really needed to get yourself a better suit, you thought. As this one had grow to become a bit too thin and easy the slit open for your taste.

The air had a slight chill today, announcing the forthcoming winter and with it the decrease in crime rate. After all, even criminals didn't like to spend the day out while it snowed like there would be no tomorrow, leaving the entire city covered in a pure white blanket, seemingly erasing the blood embedded in its pavement, only to be left with a much appreciated calm after yet another eventful year.

The image in your head was barely months away, and still, you couldn't wait for your much-needed vacation. Beating up some serious threats to the people had always left a satisfying aftertaste in your mouth, but even you needed a break from time to time to catch your breath.

Lost in your thoughts, you didn't notice the tight grasp you had on your mask, leaving your hand marked by your fingernails. Exhaling heavily, you put the piece of fabric back on your face, the arachnid-like design concealing your identity from the population.

You stood up from your previous crouching position on the edge of the skyscraper, mind at peace just as you went to jump off the edge.

Your foot dangled into the void below as if touching the shining light of cars and street lamps down below. Finally shifting your weight fully, you felt the familiar falling euphoria take over your enhanced senses. The sudden drop disoriented you for just a nanosecond as your body plunged down rapidly. Air blowing in your ears, you allowed the fall to last as much as your survival instinct let you.

It was relieving, the soreness of your body seemingly forgotten as you went down straight for the ground, letting you feel as if you were flying peacefully, and not at all risking being spread out on the concrete floor.

Ending the moment against your best wishes, you cast one of your webs onto the height of a building facing you, leaving your break behind you and swinging forward onto who knows what, maybe a villain or two- or even some nitroglycerine maniac.

You were the only one capable of protecting New York after all. Who could do this job except the one and only spider-woman?

"Miguel calm down. It's not that big of a deal you know?" Lyla's voice tried to soothe the agitated man. But to no avail.

The tall man was perambulating across the room, his steps echoing heavily into the gigantic hall.

"I can't, I can't that's it! This is definitely it! I'm going to lose it. Lo fucking juro." His tensed body roamed in a desperate attempt to calm himself down. Fingers pinching his nose, he tried to prevent the headache that was surely coming his way.

His failure at doing so was quite obvious, to say the least. Heavy breathing left his imposing form as he glared at his AI assistant.

"Not that big of a deal?! Do you have any ideas of what could have happened if at the time this maniac had managed to achieve opening a portal between universes? That would have-"

"Put the whole multiverse at risk of being destroyed blah blah blah .." Lyla interjected, gaining another furious red glare from her boss.

"This isn't funny Lyla for fuck's sake. I'm trying to save lives here." He stated in defeat. "The whole ordeal could have been easily avoided if he just didn't get bit by the spider. You know just as well as I do how much two Spidermen can't be at the same time. Their dimension would be a bomb waiting for the slightest disturbance to be completely annihilated."

"How did you want him to know to "just don't get bitten by the spider " Huh? It obviously crawled its way to him without him noticing, you know JUST LIKE EVERY OTHER SPIDERMEN IN THE MULTIVERSE EXCEPT YOU??? "

The small image of the woman flickered for a few seconds with annoyance, teleporting from her current place to right in in his face. She went from standing calmly to looking down at the huge man below her, hand grabbing her hips firmly to reinforce her statement.

"..."

If looks could kill she would surely be concerned for her life, lucky she was to be immaterial.

Stop worrying so much we're in the clear now. She thought angrily.

Closing her eyes as she let out a heavy sigh, her shoulder falling down, she tried to reassure her boss once again.

"Listen Miguel, we're all good now the multiverse is safe, and everyone is back in their own dimensions. No need to mull over it for hours now~~" She cheered, flickering to more dynamic poses to cheer her boss up. "Besides, if you keep ruminating all day you'll worsen your eye bags." She said as she mimicked a circular motion below her own.

"It's not because we avoided the destruction of all the worlds once that we should just stand by and wait for it to go south again!!! What if another just tried to-"

He was cut off once more as the hall suddenly shone in bright red light, blinding his oversensitive eyes, and leaving him squinting and hissing at the unwelcome light. Arms shooting straight up to protect his vision, he ordered Lyla to find the problem. Fast.

"Well, THAT'S SOMETHING I DIDN'T THINK ABOUT MIGUEL!?" The AI assistant yelled, her form teleporting across the whole control panel, in a matter of seconds she went through all the data that had suddenly come up in the system. While Miguel's face was now covered with his mask, whilst the radiant light still shone brightly in rapid blinks.

Using his webs, he swung to where his assistant had abruptly frozen, her floating 2D body facing one of the central control panels of this unit. With careful steps he closed the distance between them, coming forward to see what the screen had displayed. At first, he didn't notice anything out of the ordinary, the usual universe's data such as each local Spiderman, recent major events, etc...

He froze when he saw the pop-up that took most of the central panel, his heart almost stopping as he reread, again and again, the words on the screen. What did it mean? They never had something like this happen before. Surely the little interdimensional perturbations caused by the ones on earth 1610B had created a bigger mess than they could have ever anticipated.

! ANOMALY DETECTED !

Those were the words blinking brightly on the display, along with the regular sound of an alarm claiming all of their attention.

"¿Qué demonios...?" Miguel murmured, more to himself than to Lyla. Both their eyes wide open as they gaze upon the unfamiliar words, unsure of what to do now. What the hell was an anomaly? And what were they supposed to do now?

Feeling eyes on himself, he turned his head to face Lyla's, only to be met with the same uncertainty he could feel was slipping out of his covered eyes. It wasn't often that he would be left speechless and unable to make a decision, but this time he was at a complete loss. Unable to do much more than gape at the screen along with his assistant, a dreadful feeling sent a chill throughout his entire body, causing his whole form to tense significantly.

He didn't know what exactly he was supposed to do, but despite his lack of spider sense, he could trust his instinct; and whatever was waiting for them later on, it wasn't pretty.

A bit less than a year later

- BEFORE ACROSS THE SPIDER VERSE MAJOR EVENTS TIMELINE -

"Vulture, it's about time for you to think about retirement, Jezz." You declared while avoiding another of his rapid attacks just before he launched himself back up into the sky, out of your reach- or at least that's what he thought.

His laugh echoed into the now-empty streets of New York, the panicked crowd having left in a hurry the moment both of you started fighting for real.

You were positioned right below him at the moment, feet embedded into the ground, ready to propel yourself to him if the right occasion appeared. Times like these had come to be an usual occurrence in the last few months, which was kind of weird if someone asked you. It was as if every villain in the city and its surrounding had suddenly decided to come out to cause havoc.

And you were beginning to grow tired of the incessant attacks that occurred almost every day by now. Local problems like thieves or terrorists were easy to deal with but these kinds of villains needed much more of your time and energy than any other. Your arms and legs were starting to let you know of their limits too, if this was to continue for longer you weren't sure you could keep up.

And why do they always looks so different each time?

Exhaling a last time before jumping straight towards your enemy, you let your arms' spikes fully out, ready to strike down. Webbing the building just behind his flying form, you were able to come to him a mere seconds, surprising him as well as wiping the smile off his face.

"SHIT- WAIT-"

But his words only met deaf ears. Your arms aiming directly for his face, you had learned long ago that spearing your enemies only brought out more bad than good. So now when you fought, whoever might be your opposants, you were determined to use all of your spider strength, even if killing was the only solution. You would not be risking the lives of thousands of civilians just because of the ambitions of one individual. And you weren't naïve, if they could, they would kill you in the blink of an eye.

The impact was immediate and ruthless, leaving no room for escape after the strike. With your enhanced senses, you could easily pick up the sound of bones cracking below your knuckles, the sound lasting only an instant before Vulture's entire frame was launched into one of the decommissioned building a bit farther from the main city.

You may have gone a bit overboard with that one.

Not wasting a second to avoid him escaping you again, you swung your way toward the point of impact. An immense gaping hole was now, where before stood some form of architecture. It was positioned not more than twenty meters above the ground, so you knew that if he wasn't on the floor of the impact, he was surely still in the building.

I would have seen it if he just jumped out of it.

Landing gracefully upon the now bare floor, you searched for your prey, using all of your faculties to make sure you weren't missing anything. But you heard nothing, saw nothing either, only smelled the faint smell of him intertwined with other unfamiliar ones. Ones that were too fresh to only be coincidental.

"What the hell is happening again?" You said in consternation, it wasn't the first time that this happened to you. In fact, since the moment the attacks multiplied, you had almost always lost track of your attackers. You weren't perfect, you knew that, losing track once or twice every now and then would be normal knowing the nature of your job. But now it was redundant, except for a few times, you always came back empty-handed. Leaving the police just as confused as you were, even if you tried to explain to them what happened again and again. Some even began to question you competences.

This time was exactly the same as the others, you lose their sight for less than a minute and when you arrive they're already gone to who-knows-where.

That was really beginning to put your nerves to the test.

Angry, you tried to cool off by shooting one of the cans left there by its last inhabitant, causing it to hit one of the last standing pieces of furniture still standing- at least it was standing, until it abruptly collapsed on itself because of the harsh force of the hit, provoking a loud chaos in its fall. Most of what it contained was now spilled on the floor in a glorious mess.

"Oops"

You winced at the involuntary action, apologizing to whoever might come across this in the future.

"What the hell what that?!"

You froze in your tracks immediately, adopting a fighting stance on pure instinct. This was a girl's voice, you were certain of it, but what would a girl be doing here? Next to a fighting scene?

"I don't know and we don't have the time to investigate, we need to get this one back in his dimensions as fast as possible or Miguel will beat our asses." Another voice, a bit deeper answered. A woman this time, you thought, preparing yourself for a fight.

Were they the ones that continuously stole your catches for months now? Dimensions? Was that it? The final explanation for all this overload in your job? You didn't think of that one. Even if you really thought of it, you were almost happy with yourself to not have thought of this silly idea.

Well silly, it seems like- Anyway. Focus.

"Still I feel sorry for the Spider-woman that lives here, should we not let her know about it now? I mean, she is constantly fighting them and we just come to gather the pieces while she does all the work. Seems a bit unfair to me." The young girl responded.

By now you had silently come to rest on one of the walls facing the hole in the building, just next to what was once a door, but now deprived of anything door-like except for the gap in the wall. Putting your head on its surface, you were able to pick up the sound of their shoes along the floor, each of their movement, as well as the sound of struggling. As if they had contained somebody.

From the sounds, you could guess that there was a pretty long hallway that should be a least thirtyish meters from the echo of the voices alone.

So they really are the ones that kept taking them to wherever they came from.

"It's not something up to you or I do decide, Girl." The woman said, and just as she finished, you heard some weird beeping sound as well as a sudden detonation.

Oh heelll no. I'm not letting you go before you answer some questions.

Jumping to your feet, you bypassed the wall separating you from the two strangers, only to be met by a huge ball of light that almost blinded you before you could close your eyes.

Fucking sensitive eyes.

Regaining your senses fast, you quickly approached the two (well technically three but you chose to ignore him) before they escaped to wherever this portal thing would be taking them. Thanks to the detonation, you were able to walk to them without being noticed by either of them.

"Hey there, mind explaining what you doing here?" You stated, not more than five or so meters away from them, hands on your hips while you eyed them from head to toe. They were two, that you got right. And the weirdest thing of all was that they looked so much like you, smelt like you even. The youngest was dressed in a white and black outfit that looked like yours, while the other was a visibly pregnant woman with a red and black colored suit, the only difference being her glasses being her glasses whereas you and the girl both wore masks.

You could effortlessly see the panic in the youngest demeanor as she repeatedly looked from you to her 'friend', said friend on the other side looked kind of fed up. Her hand went to a sort of watch that she had on her wrist, the gadget looking way too advanced to only be a simple watch to your tastes.

"Miguel, we have something unexpected on our end what do we do?" She said as she locked her eyes with your covered ones.

"I'm kind of busy at the moment what is it ?" A masculine voice answered from the device. The deep tone causing a wave of chill to run through you, leaving you confused.

Damn, what was that?

Am I really that desperate to get laid seriously?

You reprimanded yourself, for real, since when did you let yourself be horny when you were working. You would have to find a way to get laid when you finished your day.

"The local Spider-woman has spotted us..." She said while looking at you unimpressed.

"Then just get out of there quick, what do you want me to do?" The man said before letting out a heavy sigh, the sound reviving a strange fire inside you, before some other noise, moving furniture you guessed, took over the communicator.

Stop that.

"That's the problem, Miguel, she is quite literally right in front of us and looking quite unpleased with the situation."

"..."

For whatever reason they didn't seem to enjoy the fact that you had seen the whole ordeal. The silence stretched agonizingly long before what you guessed to be their boss spoke again.

"I won't be back to the HQ before a few hours." A pause, as if to think carefully of his next words. "This dimension is where we detected the unusual number of anomalies isn't it?"

"Yeah, it is. The bright side is that we have the one from today thank to her once more."

She smile at you warmly, trying to let you know that neither of them was a threat to you or your world. It worked in a sense, but you already knew that there was no need for you to be on your guard too much around them. Your instincts were telling you that these two at least were safe to be around. For the mysterious man on the other hand you didn't know, the weird reactions of your body unusual even to you.

" *Sight* Qué desastre..." He murmured in what you recognized to be Spanish. " Bring her into the HQ, if she managed to control all of them she could be a good ally on our side if she is fit for the job."

" I'll let Lyla know and make another goober. Try to not fuck it up this time."

And just like the conversation ended.

"What a jerk." You thought out loud, surprising both of the women facing you and causing the oldest to laugh lightly.

"You get used to it after a while, that's just how he is."

You crocked an eyebrow at the comment, that didn't mean he was allowed to be a impolite jerk but anyway. Bringing your attention back to the young girl that was now lifting the tied-up body of the Vulture, you felt kind of lost. What was that all about? Anomalies? Local Spider-Woman? They were other like you? Where the two Spider-Women too from other dimensions? The more you learned about the strangers, the more you were confused and left with more questions, as you didn't want to make false assumptions.

Sensing your hesitation, the woman approached you carefully before putting a hand on your shoulder.

"I know it's a bit much to absorb at the moment but you'll understand when we will get to the HQ. Only if you want to go I mean. You're not obligated to follow us, even if Miguel authorized you to." She said before whispering something to herself that you almost missed, but thanks to your amazing hearing didn't. Something along the line of 'he isn't so compliant per usual.'

Looking behind her as both the girl and the Vulture disappeared into the bright portal, you made your decision.

"I mean, what should I do? Just stay behind and miss all the fun? Nah. You got me curious now so you better have a good justification for all the jackasses that got my ass sore for the last few months."

You didn't mean for it to sound like that.

But it was too late anyway, and surely she understood what you meant. And by the smile playing on her face, she did.

"Yeah, don't worry we got everything prepared for that."

Retracting her arms from your shoulder, she turned around to face the portal. As she took a few steps you followed, still a bit apprehensive of the unknown device. When she disappeared like the other two moments before, you exhaled heavily, steadying your breathing.

"Oh, Fuck it."

And just like that you launched yourself straight into the entrance, silently praying that this thing didn't mind rapid moving objects moving through it or else you would be quite fucked.

Tag list : (tell me if you want to be added/deleted)

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tired-biscuit · 10 months

Note

This is probably flithy af but I can picture General Kiba wanting to hide from a certain someone or something (mostly since he got into a load of trouble). So in a moment of desperation you let him hide underneath your gown, and when that certain someone who wishes to speaks with him comes in, he is nowhere to be seen. However the moment you express that, he begins to eat you out while hiding- 💀

18+ fem!reader // cw: oral (f!receiving), risk of being caught (poor shino, man djisjshshd), mentions of alcohol. royalty AU.

series masterlist

kiba comes barging into the dining room still dressed in his fancier attire that you rarely ever see him wear.

aiming your gaze up at his face that’s progressively blooming with a blush so feverish that it turns him entirely red from one ear to the other, you can immediately tell by just one look alone that he’s drunk as a lord.

his hair is wild. it sticks in various different directions despite the fact that you’ve spent a good ten minutes or so combing through the thick chestnut curls that sit atop his head. it had been done with the sole intention of ridding them of knots and making them look at least semi-presentable, but kiba being kiba, he had fussed about it endlessly, of course.

atop of that, the top three buttons of his white shirt are undone as well; revealing his dark chest hair and the faded scars that adorn his tanned skin with numerous lines of milky white. they stretch across his entire body in various shapes and sizes. it’s like a trip down memory lane.

they’re slashes, the scars. well, most of them are at least. some are consequences of too rash decisions. reminders of too prideful misjudgements that he had gotten back when he’d still only been a young, mindless rookie. green, eager to become a fearsome warrior and yet far too wet behind the ears to fight with a sense of patience like he does now, that he’s older and has more experience under his belt.

other scars meanwhile, are still rather fresh. jagged, irregular lines; cut so deep into the flesh that their ridges are prominent even now, as they’ve healed over.

on more than one occasion, you’ve felt them underneath the tips of your fingers. enemies and opposing soldiers from neighbouring countries seem to have a preference to aim directly for his heart whenever push comes to shove, however nobody besides you has managed to actually graze it beyond surface level so far.

still, even if they aren’t anywhere near to being as deep as the phantom ones you’ve inflicted, they’ve still been etched into him for all eternity. battle wounds that had been gained during the war that he now says he had won just for you. or for your hand in marriage, so to speak.

it’s a sugary lie, you think. there is no way in hell, heaven and earth that he’d conquered an entire war just for the sake of being allowed to bed you and have you writhe underneath him with your big, doe eyes like the innocent virgin you’d once been. even he’s not that dumb... right?

however, now that you think about it, you still have no clue whatsoever about what kind of deal he’d struck with your father back then. what exactly he’d been promised as a reward if he were to lead your country to victory. to be fair, you couldn’t have known because you weren’t allowed to — the great mahogany doors had been sealed shut during the entirety of the meeting, and the guards, who had stubbornly refused at allowing you to listen in on the conversation, weren’t of much help either.

by the time it’d been done and over with and the doors had at long last been pushed open, you’d chickened out. had hidden behind a corner and hadn’t dared toss even the shortest of glances at who would — unknowingly, to you — soon become your future husband, whilst intently listening to his heavy footsteps and the dreadful clinking of weaponry to follow.

husband.

you’d never associated the term with a brute like him until just recently, even though the reason as to why he wanted to become one in the first place remains an enigma for you.

perhaps the mere idea of being able to have you whenever he’d please, to possess the chance of fathering children with blue blood running through their veins instead of his common one, and to climb up the social ladder with such profound ease are the reasons as to why. after all, they are all more than good enough to persuade a man into risk. to fuel him with motivation all until he’s sliced through enough enemies with his sword that he’s proclaimed a winner. to give him a driving force sufficient enough to blindly head into warfare and win.

or perhaps, deep down, he’s just lonely. perhaps he needs a warm body to wrap his arms around because he’s gotten sick of the cold ones that he’s ruthlessly slayed over the years. perhaps he needs a tender touch and kiss to the cheek every now and then instead of a war cry and carnage. a ‘welcome home’, followed by a warm meal. children that joyfully run up to him whenever he sets foot through the front door and who he cherishes so much, not because of the blue in their blood, but because of the red that is all him, him, him.

nevertheless, the union has been set in stone no matter the reason. and yet, a small, cleverly hidden part of you continues to remain hopeful that it is the second one that is true; that the more sympathetic side of him, which you’re patiently uncovering layer after layer, is actually genuine. that what he whispers into your ear at night, saying how much he appreciates you and how lovely you are to him, is not merely a mistruth used just so that he can bury himself deep inside you until your nails are scratching at the faded remnants of those exact scars, but that his heart is actually slowly growing fonder of you just like yours is of him.

you know that he’s no knight in shining armor, no prince that will pick up your fallen handkerchief and bow down before you when he reaches out to hand it back. you’re well aware of that because you’ve seen him train plenty of times now and have seen the way he fights; how he acts during and after it. you’ve seen the deadly, almost feral look in his eyes. the muscle that’s been pulled taut. the brutal strength.

if he’s absolutely lethal whenever he’s merely practicing, you don’t even dare imagine what he’s actually like out there — on the field, facing actual enemies. covered in blood and grime, fighting tooth and nail. until there’s no man left in him, only beast.

still, you can’t help but hope that there’s more to him than that. it’s all you can do, really.

well, sort of.

“why, hello there, princess.”

gods, the teasing little nickname, which just so happens to be your official title at the same time — how he manages to make it not sound like that, you have no clue — rolls off his tongue in a prominent slur and makes you look up at him with a soft tilt of your head.

he’s standing beside the door, leaning back and pressing one shoulder against the wood for extra support. judging by the big, complacent grin that forms on his face as soon as your eyes meet, as well as his somewhat hunched, relaxed posture, you realize that he’s actually way more under the influence than you’d thought initially.

you’re supposed to remain perfectly stoic like the noble woman you are, however the sight of him trying to stand straight and failing is almost too entertaining to watch, despite how odd it is to see him act so vulnerable out in the open.

it’s considered a cherished rarity, so it’s no wonder that you can’t help but indulge in it a little. relaxing your face, you allow your brows to raise so high up that they could reach your hairline if they wanted to.

perfect.

brief silence lingers as you both take a second to assess each other. however, when you finally open your mouth to ask him what sort of nonsense he’s gotten into this time, he just gives you a wink, and just like that: he’s gone. crouching and slipping underneath the table you’re sitting at — no wait, he’s actually crawling underneath it.

your brows knit tightly together instead as you try to peer under it, intently listening to the little snickers he keeps letting out. is it possible that he’s pulling you in on some twisted joke, or…?

“what in heaven’s name are you—”

“shh!” he shushes you immediately, and then bam! — he groans when he slams the top of his head against the table on accident. that must have hurt. “for fuck’s sake, woman! keep quiet; i’m hiding!”

his answer makes you sigh, deeply. the childish antics that are unfolding before you are causing you to feel pure exasperation after the long night you’ve just endured in your father’s castle. rubbing one temple, you indulge him by using a significantly lower tone to mutter, “and from who are you hiding, if i may ask?”

“shino,” he answers simply before yet another boyish chuckle makes his voice crack. the sound makes your heart clench. you try not to focus on it too much because it just makes you hope all the more intensely. neither of you had a decent shot at being kids. “he is out to get me.”

your voice rises higher in pitch this time as you say, “wh-what; out to get you…? what on earth would cause him to do that?”

“shh!” he shushes you once more, and when you peek underneath the table for a second time, his brown eyes are twinkling with mischievous delight despite the glaze of booze obscuring it from view. his grin is crooked and lazy as he presses a finger to his lips and crudely whispers, “i think i can hear him coming over here… whatever you do, don’t tell him where i am. understood?”

“why?” you inquire, giving him a pointed look.

“because,” he says matter-of-factly and with an eye roll that you’d never believe he’s executed unless you’d have seen it for yourself, “i simply do not wish to deal with the lecture he’s surely planning to throw my way tonight.”

“lecture?”

“he tends to nag me to the goddamn bone whenever i step out of line.” which is quite often.

you stare at him in silence for a quick moment before asking, “and what am i supposed to say if he starts wondering where you are?”

kiba shrugs. “just make something up.”

“i can’t lie!” you immediately hiss in protest, frowning. it even causes a snobby upturn of your nose to appear, which he surprisingly finds to be highly amusing and cute. especially as you part your pouty lips to mutter, as if in shame, “it’s sin.”

“i’m sure god will forgive you if you do it just this one time,” he responds smoothly even if the sentence comes off in a tipsy sort of mumble. the wording of it makes rapid heat begin to sear your face. especially as he takes both of your hands into his own, gives you the same pleading stare that your childhood dog had given you on so many occasions during dinner every evening, and adds, “lie for me this one time, princess. i beg you.”

so used to him being covered in scars and whatnot, you fail to notice the fresh bruising that covers the knuckles of his right hand and that definitely wasn’t there before you’d left.

silence settles between you once more. it’s calm this time. comforting and safe. broken only by the sound of a kiss being pressed to your left hand where the wedding ring resides. it tempts you to soften your gaze. tempts you to lose a defeated breath as you run your fingers through his hair that makes him look more like a heathen than anything else, and to gently tug at the roots, too.

watching him as he angles his head further into your touch without any sort of hesitance that normally stops him from enjoying affections like these, he really looks like he could start purring any second now. if it weren’t bad for his health, perhaps you could get used to this version of him. alcohol melts down the walls that he insists on keeping around himself. turns him gooey and soft. trusting.

“well?” he asks whilst kissing the center of your palm that you had just been using to caress his cheek. the tingle of warmth his lips leave behind even through the glove you’re wearing turns the drumming of your pulse a bit quicker.

“…oh, fine. i will try, but i am not making any sort of promises that it will actually work.” your eyes narrow even if your heart is beating so fast now that you can barely breathe properly. damn him and his big brown eyes for real this time. he can be such a womanizer whenever he wants to be. “but just so you know, it’s pointless anyway. he will see you underneath the table as soon as he steps into the room.”

his lips break into yet another grin as he looks at you and shakes his head. “no, he won’t.”

you quirk a brow, angling your head to one side. “what do you mean by th— oh! hey!”

urging you to keep quiet again with one more sharp shush as soon as you let out a small noise of surprise, you now feel him try to squeeze his burly body underneath the multiple skirts of the fancy, and gigantic, ball gown that you’ve decided to wear for the party you just came back from.

the fabric rustles as he keeps pushing up one layer after the other, creasing the smoothness of the dress that your handmaiden had spent ages perfecting just so that it would look striking and even more importantly; that it would impress the other guests.

not that it matters, but it worked. all night, you’d been receiving compliments and repetitive glances. turns of heads. bows. curtsies. even the tiara, that had been sitting atop your head until just recently, had been paired with the dress and the jewels so well that you’d even invoked some gasps as soon as you had entered the ballroom.

your husband doesn’t really seem to care about such things, though. pearls, diamonds, gems, they are all just mere trinkets to him. to be fair, he’d given you a nod of approval when he’d laid eyes on you whilst you were receiving your finishing touches, but to him, you are still prettiest right after taking a bath.

when you’re naked in more ways than one, your soft skin still gleaming with the water droplets that you’d missed whilst wiping dry. when you’re pure, raw, vulnerable. defenseless, with no fancy clothes, heavy jewellery — with the exception of the ring that matches his own — or complicated hairstyles to hide behind.

when you’re not even a princess, per se. just you.

though, he does like to fuck you senseless whenever you’re wearing nothing else but the crown… but that’s a story for another time.

the thought is broken by the way he makes you jump in your seat when you feel his warm hands rest on top your thighs all of a sudden. clearly startled that he’s managed to reach all the way to your wretched undergarments, you are just about to start fussing and kicking him out from underneath your dress, when the door swings open and in comes strutting nobody else but the military advisor himself; shino aburame.

desperately switching from fight mode to trying to keep your cool amidst all the chaos you’ve definitely not signed up to be a part of at a late hour like this; it’s hard not to scoff in frustration at the man that stands just a small distance away from you, now.

shino stands with his chin held high in the air and his expression schooled into his signaturely impassive one that makes him look like he’s almost bored with the fact to see you sitting there, with your spotless silverware and little plate of untouched dessert that you’d skipped eating at the party.

staring at him, you simply can’t comprehend how someone so aloof can manage to make even the most neutral expression look sassy. if you weren’t raised to be such a lady, you would certainly make him know that the mere sight of him annoys you to a certain degree.

after all, after the entire ‘disturbance’ ordeal that went down in your husband’s study just a few months ago — amongst other things — you still have yet to grow a liking towards the everlastingly bland advisor.

he hasn’t exactly made any effort to apologize for what he’d said in your presence, but to be fair, you haven’t exactly seeked him out for it either.

of course, there is still plenty of time to do so, you suppose. things can change. perhaps you’ll make peace at some point and the entire thing will clear out on its own. who knows what the future may bring?

still, you don’t look exactly pleased as you watch him quickly scan the room, left to right, then right to left. you notice the way he pays extra attention to the curtains that frame the big windows and the possible hiding spaces that may be in the room. how his gaze lingers on every nook and cranny that would perhaps, just maybe, be able to conceal a big, burly man in the shape of his superior.

by the time his dark, coal-coloured eyes finally land upon you, you’re resembling a statue at the table from how hard you’re focusing on staying completely still. your body is tense, spine ramrod straight, fork clutched in a gloved fist that’s so tight it looks awfully unlady like. if somebody were to paint a picture of a frightened fawn, you’d be the perfect source of inspiration for it.

exchanging looks with him, you hope that mr. aburame takes your tense posture as a sign of nervosity that’s been invoked because of him, and not because your drunken idiot of a husband — who’s still hiding underneath your dress, mind you — is now stroking your thighs with his thick fingers and has his face pressed so close to your most private parts that you can feel his warm exhales even through the soft linen of your braies.

he’s just so close to your—

“i apologize for bursting in here completely unannounced, my lady,” shino drawls in that indifferent tone that makes you wonder if he’s reading everything he says from some invisible text nobody else but him can see. “i was not aware there was someone in the room.”

“it’s quite all right,” you reply a little bit too fast, trying so hard to keep your voice steady in both pitch and pace. “you needn’t worry about it.”

gods damn your husband. curse him. kill him. the little spark of jealousy that he feels in his heart whenever someone calls you ‘my lady’ coaxes him to press a careful kiss right at the apex of your thighs. goosebumps form over your entire body as the shiver rushes through you in response to the affection, however much to your good fortune, most of them are hidden by the dress and the silken gloves that reach all the way up to your elbows.

he lingers there. applies steady pressure to your clit with his lips and dampens the linen with his warm saliva until it’s sticking to your pussy, exposing the little button of nerves even further. the fabric silences his laggard ministrations, you’re that lucky at least, but if you aren’t able to keep yourself in-check for long enough—

oh, fucking hell. the sole of your shoe lifts and presses against his thigh in warning as you attempt to close your legs and keep him at bay. he’s kneeling before you like a sinner would before a god, his pants stretching at the top of his legs, but as if he’s adamant to keep you suffering for as long as possible, you feel his scorching hot hand wrap around your bare calf instead. feel how he runs it up and down as he strokes you in the most devilish ways possible whilst he noses his way even further between your thighs.

fighting to keep your breathing calm because you just can’t shake him off no matter how much weight you apply to your foot that’s still positioned on his thigh, you realize that this man is an outright incarnation of sin. he’s an incubus. a demon.

“well… i think it’s better if i head out, then,” shino says, and all of a sudden you remember that he’s still standing there, and that you are, in fact, not alone in the room and are probably looking utterly foolish; panting like that. “so that i can leave you to your food, and all that.”

“mm, yes,” is all you can manage. blinking slowly, it’s impossible to keep your vision focused. your eyes insist on rolling back into the inside of your skull, but if you could only last just a while longer, you might not even need to lie and burden yourself with even more sin. “i think… i think that’d be a wise idea indeed, advisor.”

you watch him cross the room with a laggard turn of your head that follows every single one of his movements. he’s still dressed in his fancier clothes as well; the outfit perfectly tailored to suit his firm, lean stature, his shoes clean.

he’s just about to exit the room and you’re just about to finally relax and be alone with your nymphomaniac of a spouse, when shino whips his head to the side and lingers by the door just like his superior had done only moments prior.

“before i go; do you by any chance know where your husband might have gone?”

why yes, dear advisor, he’s right here in the room with us; hiding under my dress, licking me right through my underwear.

“no,” the lie falls from your lips like it’s pure instinct, but it tastes acidic. it’s like you’ve just sank your teeth into an exceptionally sour lemon. “i can’t say i’ve seen him ever since we came back from the party, so sadly i have no clue on his current whereabouts.”

“ah,” shino says before he takes one step further out the door and rests his hand on the frame of it. “well, if you do end up seeing him, please be so kind as to tell him that i need to speak with him. urgently.”

“of course,” you nearly sigh out whilst your toes curl in your pretty shoes. the linen is so wet with saliva and arousal now that kiba’s breaths feel cool instead of warm. your underwear must be borderline see-through from how many times he’s ran his tongue across your sticky, clothed slit. when he presses the point of it at your most sensitive spot again and starts making little circles, it’s good enough to make you want to let out a wanton moan.

the urge to whimper and mewl is strong, but you manage to suppress it by biting into the inside of your cheek hard enough that it draws blood. still, curiosity manages to get the best of you as you look at shino and ask, “though, if i may intrude just a little, what exactly is it that you wish to speak to him about?”

you expect a secretive, non-explanatory answer like ‘nothing that needs to worry you, my lady’ or perhaps, ‘it’s confidental; military related’, however shino pleasantly surprises you when he lets out an exasperated sigh of his own and bluntly says, “he got into a fight with one of the guests just before we left.”

oh.

“pa-pardon?” the stutter rolls off your tongue both because you’re taken aback and because you’re being pleasured. come to think of it, you distinctly do remember kiba disappearing the last couple of minutes before you’d gone home together, as well as him returning with a rather feral grin sitting on his face and sweat coating his brow, but you’d have never thought—

“yes,” shino replies with the subtlest twitch of lips. “he’d, uh… broken a certain young lord’s nose with his fist.”

you blink. “which young lord?”

“lord uchiha.”

“i see.”

kiba’s grip around your calf tightens at the name in an almost protective manner. you can feel the bluntness of his nails digging into your flesh so harshly, causing hints of pinching pain, that it makes you drop your fork with a soft thud when it lands on the rich red table cloth.

he’s got his whole mouth pressed tightly against the soaked softness of your cunt. it’s like the adrenaline spurs him on. like the jealousy and possessiveness and the endless urge to protect you all convince him to take even more risks than usual. the sweetness of your slick, which he can fucking smell the scent of, now, drives him so wild that he’s become utterly careless. if you don’t watch out, he’s going to tear right through your underwear to get to you, no matter if the sounds of shredding fabric will quite likely be percepted by his trusty advisor.

bringing your hand close to your chest, you ask, “why?”

“to play the role of a knight in shining armor or to defend his lady’s honor, what do i know what happens inside that head of his,” shino utters, and you’re not entirely sure if he’s impressed or not with how dispassionate his tone sounds. with a small jerk of his chin, he gestures to you as he adds, “apparently lord uchiha had some rather tasteless things to say about your… union. this made my superior take matters into his own hands, which has consequently left me to deal with a rather sticky situation. i doubt lord uchiha will simply forget about this entire ordeal.”

something stirs within your heart at that.

sticky, indeed.

“thank you,” is all you reply with because the man underneath your dress, your knight in shining armor, is nearly feasting upon you by now. “that will be all.”

but it’s not all, because as soon as shino steps out and closes the door behind him, leaving you alone at long last; your legs are parting all on their own, welcoming your husband in as your thighs hug the sides of his head and squeeze with appreciation.

he tears your undergarments to shreds just like you’d expected him to before he immediately digs in. it’s messy and hot and desperate, the way he slurps and licks at your cunt. it makes you lean back against the backrest of your chair and makes him groan out the filthiest of curses just because of how dazed he is getting from it.

if you keep tasting so sweet, he’s going to have to end up fucking you on top of the dining table. with your legs propped on top of his broad shoulders and your tits pushing further out of your tight corset because of the force of each thrust that he’ll ram straight into your dripping wet hole, which he now feels fluttering around his tongue.

yeah, right on top of the table.

just like the dessert you are.

#biscuit’s royalty au #biscuit drabbles #kiba smut #naruto smut

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