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iceunhie · 9 months ago

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— PUSH AND PULL : honkai star rail.

premise. as someone who's always believed in the term “try and try again,” (peak delusion, you know) rooting yourself in their heart has always been your goal, no matter the cold rejections and curt declines you receive. however, even you have your limits; perhaps this little push and pull you two have going isn't worth your time after all... but what happens then, if the chaser becomes the chased? (oh, how the turns have tabled.)

...or, when you play hard to get with them.

— ft. sunday, aventurine, jing yuan.

warnings: angst n fluff, messy messy, these boys are in love but are wayyy too chicken to admit they actually adore you, genderless reader.

a/n. inspired by @/xiaowhore's playing hard to get headcanons! my holy trinity 😇 n MY FAVES RAHHH

NEXT : BACK TO MASTERLIST || ASKBOX

SUNDAY is perplexed. very much aware of his qualities which enlists him as one of the finer (finest) bachelors of Penacony (he was the Robin's one and only blood, and was also the head of one of the main guiding forces of the Family, after all), sunday isn't sure he's ever come across someone as.... tenacious as you.

foolish, to be more precise, for he cannot for the life of him comprehend exactly why you are the way you are with... him.

no matter his respectful declines of your invitations to promenade around Penacony (re: going on dates), you really didn't know how to leave him be. though he hasn't exactly said he hated it, sunday was, admittedly, rather... affronted. your gifts, in particular, were your loud declarations of your affection (that make his wings flutter more rapidly than he'd like); but sunday was rather inconvenienced at the whole thing.

nonetheless, he does still accept them. reluctantly, mind you. not because he was fond of your constant shower of affections, which seemed so permanent that he began to look forward to them got used to it. to your credit, your gifts were very much to his tastes. (Robin once gave him a rather soul-searching look when he found himself wearing the gloves you gifted, light blue and white in color. he still uses it, just not when his sister is in the vicinity.)

in fact, perhaps he may have gotten too comfortable. little by little, your constant intrusions on his time have thawed a way to his heart; making sunday look forward to your jovial greetings and grandeur elaborations on your day, and such a thing makes him feel scared sunday needed to nip this in the bud, and fast.

so he confronts you, abruptly one day as you give him his newest gift—a jewelry box for his earrings. (surely, the rapid thumping of his heart was due to his irritation at your constant persistence, right?) “i'm afraid this can no longer continue. i am flattered by your... fancy for me, but i do not wish to enter a relationship in the near future.”

the utter silence that follows is torture to him—but he endures. he tries not to look at the momentary flash of hurt on your face. you seemed to quickly recover, though. giving him a simple smile (it didn't reach your eyes. it shocks him how his chest ached at the realization) and shaking your head when he returns the gift to you.

“i understand, mr. sunday.” the formal usage of his name instead of your chipper ‘sunday!’ makes his face twitch. “but please, keep the gift. think of this as my last declaration. it... would do me a great comfort, just this last time, if you accepted it instead.”

(if he had grabbed your hand at that moment as you left for the door, would he regret it?)

when you leave, sunday thought it would put the conflicting feelings in his mind at ease—but it doesn't. a week and two days counting, true to your word, sunday receives no flagrant gifts, nor little messages on his phone that tell him to take care of himself, to eat, and to make sure to remember to check up on Robin.

instead, contrary to the feeling of ease, regret follows him instead.

it's at two weeks and five days counting when sunday could no longer stand the sight of papers that stacked atop his desk and the image of you leaving for the door replaying in his head far too many times for him to count, that he contacts Robin.

and she, once hearing about the situation, gives him a very, very enlightening talk. (of course, not without giving her brother a lecture of the lifetime. part of him felt shame to know that his sister knew of his... turbulent love life, but she was the only one who he could trust, anyway).

“absence makes the heart grow fonder,” she says. “but in your case, brother, your heart has already decided it's course, right?”

sunday eyes the smooth velvet of the jewelry box you gifted, ruminating. his earrings lie there, carefully pristine and beautiful, gold and silver intertwined. he has worn them without fail, clean and spotless. (of course it was. such a design so intricate was only chosen by you. the thought makes his ears warm).

the next days are agonizing. vigor renewed and epiphanies well-spent, sunday spends the rest of his time after finishing his duties researching and painstakingly finding the best jeweller he can find (even employing the suggestions of a certain gambler, much to his dislike), and spending a god awful amount of time revisiting and rechecking which spots you like, which places you enjoy, to the point it comes up in Penacony's headlines that sunday is interested in someone.

surely, it should've reached your ears by now, yes? sunday panics. your preferences are well-accounted for, and he's sure the Bloodhound family members that report to him have to tell you that the person he had in mind was you. even Robin, who was your closest friend, has probably told you already.

it's embarrassing to admit, but; to hell with it, the day he meets you after three weeks and sees you having a pleasant chat with aventurine, of all people, sunday thinks his heart had shattered into little pieces and stabbed themselves into his body. not so much as sparing him a glance, moreso.

so when, finally at his wits end, sunday chooses to corner you at the dewlight pavilion and spills out how he has royally screwed up in the worst way possible, no one is surprised. at this rate, you would be swept up in the charms of that wretched gambler, and what sunday lacked in, aventurine more than made up for.

“wait, don't go to that gambler just yet.” he's breathless, he's chaotic—and something in his heart squeezes when you finally look at him. “i... i wish to take up your time now, if that's possible.” (he wishes he would take up your time forever, really, but that was still too early).

you eye his getup. all of your gifts, lined on the man you spent so long chasing after—you see the gloves you gifted, the tie with not so much as a single crease, and the earrings that shine more brightly in the light of the pavilion. (it suits him. like you) it was as if sunday had completely surrendered himself to you, had all but decided to proclaim that he was yours, and this was nothing short of a plea for you to hear him.

“please.” he says. almost begs. “i can't bear not seeing you anymore. allow me to correct such a damning mistake.”

and if you were skeptical, the way sunday looks at you would dispel any doubt you could ever have. (his wings, they were fluttering.)

(months later, after a nerve-ending confession, many days of dinners, shared gifts involving matching jewelry and promenading to your wishes, it dawns on sunday he was absolutely dancing to your tune. did he regret it, though?

....no, most certainly not.)

if AVENTURINE were to be honest with himself, he saw you as a useful “friend” rather than a romantic interest. was it bad of him? of a sort. but risk cutting himself open and letting someone he might grow to care for know about all the ugliness that follows his life? no, he's fine as it is, thanks.

the first thing he notices is that you're kind—though he distrusted most of his colleagues and preferred none to get close to him, aventurine, in some morbid moment of curiosity, instead allowed himself to bask in your attention. instead of curtly disparaging you, he flirts back at your compliments (the way your face heated up in return was far too endearing that he can't help but want to kiss you he finds it amusing) and consistently texts you a “did you get home safe” or a “i bought you this because it reminded me of you”; at this point, it was like you two were dating.

was it leading you on? yes, but he supposes it was a win-win; he could send you those tiny bits of validation that was enough for you to stay respectfully at a distance while he probed at your intentions. unlike others who attempt to garner his favor, you're genuine, and you seriously take the time to know him. because you always text back with hearts, always reassure him, tell him to stay safe and wish him luck at every gamble, every high stakes bet he finds himself in. you even complimented his perfume once (and, if he had to be honest, he could not stop thinking about it all day—because that perfume he commissioned exclusively was based off of your own favorite scents and it was extremely embarrassing that he loved hugging you knowing that you loved the way he smelled and that it felt extremely domestic).

(sometimes, he doesn't reply. for months on end. suddenly the golden-haired man you love goes cold and you know then that aventurine ghosts you and then returns when he's in need of a friend—never a lover. it hurts you, but at the very least, you know he cares in his own way.)

and, if aventurine had to be honest, it was killing him from the inside bit by bit. as if to drive the knife deeper, you never danced around what exactly was going on with you two. you never ask why he ghosts you, then sends you a bundle of gifts all of a sudden and then rapidly spends time with you and repeating the cycle. no, you were consistently by his side, so warm and so caring—so unlike him—that aventurine wonders if it's really all right to open his heart to you.

if, by some chance, he actually wanted to be with you, would you treat him even more sweetly than before? aventurine thinks you would—you were beautiful in your entirety, and he was practically undeserving of you. he imagines himself kissing your hand and having you in his arms—and that feels like ice cold water being dumped onto his head, because you could do so much better and yet, why him?

so when aventurine hears about how a certain doctor was visiting you for some unknown reason, his already fragile sense of security in this little will-they, won't they crumbles.

and when he finds out that you were staying over with ratio? something twisted lodges itself in the little brushes of his heart, coiling and coiling—making him feel green. aventurine is aware you and the doctor are good friends, and ratio was the one who even told you to make a move on him! how could he just—suddenly interrupt?!

(was it dramatic? extremely. but knowing his friend and the person he secretly adores might end up together? you can't really blame him.)

he supposes this can be attributed to him. it was an egregious mistake, a blunder aventurine made—he never gave you a clear sight of whether he truly loved you or not and now you're slipping away from him.

so, he does something very unexpected.

at 3:00 AM in the wee early morning hours, aventurine practically barges into one Dr. veritas ratio's home, demanding what the hell was going on between you. and as if he had expected it, his doctor friend merely gives him a shrug in return.

“perhaps they were simply getting fed up by a certain IPC member—who is clearly head over heels in love with them—giving them mixed signals.” ratio's tone is stern, and aventurine definitely knows that the look he gives him is the one he gives only to fools.

you idiot, the doctor seems to say. yeah, yeah, he is; aventurine ignores the clear pinprick at his dignity.

yes, he supposes he is the fool here. “ah.”

“yes, ‘ah,’ indeed. now, let me propose a question.” the purple-haired man says. “will you react in such a way when i tell you that in order for my friend to stop their anguish, i managed to get them to fraternize with one of my colleagues?”

“...what?”

“they will be having a meet-up seven system hours from now.” ratio shrugs. eyes aventurine, who's looking at him like a gaping, stupid fish. “i can only hope that no one would dare to disrupt.”

...it doesn't take him long to be rid of the gambler by then.

(a few hours later, you stop by the Intelligentsia Guild to see one veritas ratio with a smug smile, eyeing the fur coat draped around your shoulders, and the flushed and happy expression written on your face.

“did it work?” he asks.

you laugh, “splendidly.”

indeed, that gambler was a fool, and there's nothing more than dr. ratio loved than to educate such fools to shape.

“that will teach him.”)

as a quote unquote ‘old man’ who knows that he's well up in his years for a relationship, JING YUAN finds you to be quite amusing.

it doesn't take a detailed analysis to know that you were smitten with him, really. you're a complete open book by his standards—if your heated face and slightly airy voice whenever you were even placed in the same vicinity with the Dozing General was anything to come by. while flattering, he also shares the similar mindset of being too old for any love his way—and he could be mara-struck at any given time, and jing yuan does not wish such a life filled with anguish and pain for the one who may steal his heart. but, worry not, brave suitor of the Arbiter General! unlike the other two above, this man has the experience of millenia, and is open-minded and aware that you truly wish to be perceived as a potential lover.

in fact, jing yuan's recent favorite habit is sneaking off the Seat of Divine Foresight purely to freak you out, watching you scramble up your words, seeing the heat crawl up your nape and bloom all across your face. adorable. you certainly knew how to appeal, that's for sure.

(“heh, it seems i've found a new place to stay in so that the Diviner Fu won't grill me alive when she sees me.”

and when he's rewarded with a bashful and speechless look in return, a smile and your, “i'm glad, general.” it surprisingly lightens up his mood by more than he expected.

that, in turn, gives him a frightening 30% energy boost; fu xuan was utterly shocked to see the languid man actually working and looking like he enjoyed it, for once.

“did something good happen today, jing yuan? why so enthusiastic?”

“i just felt like working more than usual, diviner Fu. i seem to have my energy levels at a high.”)

now, jing yuan is considerate and perceptive first and foremost, so there's a high chance that out of all the men here, he is the most open to giving you the chance to pursue him. he does inform you beforehand that he has no plans of accepting your confessions in the future, and that is where the ‘hard to get’ part comes in.

it's like playing a confusing romance visual novel with a fickle love interest—you never really know what you're doing, whether it's something jing yuan would like or not, and you don't know if he even thinks your attempts are moving his heart. (tldr: he friend zones you).

he maintains the same distance no matter his banters with you, no matter how many times you tell him that you'd help yanqing out with sword lessons. it's like he was just... treating you as he would a friend, and that you were basically stuck in the friend-zone forever.

(he keeps it to himself, but something warm stirs in his chest when he sees yanqing sleeping on your shoulder after training practice, with your arm protectively around the boy's side.

your sleeping face didn't make it easy to look away either; it's one of the few moments in which jing yuan shows just the slightest bit of reciprocating your pursuits; he brushes back the stray hairs covering your face, and drapes a blanket over the two of you.

of course, perhaps to tease yanqing, he also takes the calligraphy brush and makes a work out of his face, doodling all over it.

when you wake up, there's a lingering scent of ink and yellowed paper that fills your senses. when you turn to the boy beside you, you almost giggle out loud.)

it's a little disheartening—and while jing yuan did acknowledge that you were slowly, slowly burrowing yourself in his heart, he doesn't act on it fast enough, and instead lets the realization sit in his mind for a while.

it gets to the point where it feels as though he were preparing to distance himself, and even yanqing had asked if he was well. your visits with the Arbiter General also decrease, as he suddenly buried himself in his work even more than before.

he doesn't get to see you all that much afterwards, despite the lingering feeling of missing you filling his heart.

....that's until jing yuan hears word of a recent mara-struck incident involving the Sky-faring Commission; with your name listed among those heavily injured.

when he visits Bailu's clinic after yanqing urges him, jing yuan takes in the sight of you, littered in injuries from head to toe. your life, about to snap. he never even told you that you won; you did manage to steal his heart and for the first time in a long time, jing yuan allows himself to love.

so if, after three weeks later when you're finally healed up and ready to go, jing yuan brings you into his arms and drags you to let him sleep in your lap, you can't really blame him now, can you?

a/n: i love yearner hsr men,,, might do a pt 2 though. thinking of mayb ratio, jiaoqiu and f/heng next time...... sighs dreamily

@ ICEUNHIE: do not repost translate or plagiarize my works.

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peachylynnie · 30 days ago

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what jewelry they like on you

word count: ~300-400 per lead contains: lads men x non!mc reader, established relationship, they all adore you, jewelry descriptions, fluff, suggestive themes (sylus, rafayel, and caleb), and did i mention fluff? make it toothrotting. a/n: it's midterm season so headcanons it is. again, these are headcanons so i'm not saying i'm right. just my silly little interpretations. inspired by my impulsive buy of a bracelet the other day. no, my wallet hasn't recovered. reblogs and comments are always appreciated! tagged: @vvintqz (a little headcanon for xavier, lmk if u want me to stop tagging) lads masterlist

sylus

necklaces all the way

has a preference for silver chains with red or black charms

it's his signature colors on your pretty neck

loves it even more when the charm rests between your collarbones

if you want his nose to bleed, wear a long necklace

yes, the one that goes all the way down to your chest

but if you really want to get him going

wear a choker

doesn't even have to be a chain type or have charms

if it's a choker, he'll fold, like dogs to a bone

you can't blame him

it enticingly accentuates the rest of your neck and collarbones, the two places he likes to leave marks on

don't worry if you're hypoallergenic (like me)

he only ever gets you the finest of materials, even if you point out the cost

not that you mind or anything

"sylus," you whine.

you're going to be late. again. all because of this silver-haired man who's refusing to leave your neck alone.

"sylus!" you gasp when he tugs down the choker, his dewy lips taking advantage of the newly exposed spot.

you're starting to regret wearing a choker (not really). you thought it went well with your outfit. and it did! it added a little pop to your look, and you were excited to wear it for the first time in a while.

"hey!" you squirm in his embrace when you feel the poke of his teeth. "no marks!"

"does it really matter, sweetie?" he asks nonchalantly before continuing his assault on your neck. he loves how his tongue occasionally meets with the smooth fabric of your choker. "this," he tugs on it some more, eliciting a soft whimper from you. "will cover them."

sighing, you make a mental note to apologize to your friends for being late when you meet them.

xavier

earrings

especially studs or the mini drop ones that come in cute graphic designs.

there's just something about the way the adorable little charms hang from your ears

really, he thinks they complement your face shape

and he loves to cup your face whenever

but when you wear the ones that are star-themed

he's looking at you as if you're the one who hung them up in the night sky

seriously, he's never seen anything more beautiful

it also strokes his jealousy (?) in a way (cuz yk he's all abt the stars)

but that's worth like...less than 1% of the experience

he just really loves seeing you wear them

don't worry if your ears aren't pierced

clip-ons are a thing, and he'll make sure to get that ones that are both high quality and comfortable

he also loves watching you put them on

his cheeks hurt from smiling too much. he tries to cover his rosy face when you lean towards the mirror.

you're adjusting the backing of your new star stud. furrowing your brows, you tilt your head to the side for a better look.

xavier swears he's never seen anything more beautiful in his life. here you are, making something so simple as adjusting an earring look so skillful and charming.

"done!" you secure the backing and spin around to show your boyfriend. "what do you think?"

"yeah," he nods softly. "i think you're glowing."

you giggle and embrace him tightly.

"thanks for surprising me with them," you chirp, peering up at him.

the stars on your ears shine. no different from your eyes.

"anything for you, starlight," he whispers, stroking your cheek with a thumb. "anything for you."

rafayel

bracelets

listen

we all know this man is a FIEND for our hands

i may not have all of his five-star cards

but tell me why it is that in all the ones i have, he's YEARNING for our hands at some point

jumps at every chance to help you put one on

has a thing for cuff bracelets

like the metal swirly ones that hold a jewel in the middle

they exude the sense of royalty in a way (he's a god so)

most definitely has designed some for you too

and by some, i mean numerous

what's really heartwarming about that though is that he collects the materials himself

the amount of seashells he has preserved for you

but back to him being down bad for our hands

there's something about the way cuff accompanies the bare skin of your wrist and gently presses against your pulse

he's in heaven whenever he nuzzles against your wrist and feels the cool metal graze his heated skin.

"wait," you squint at the bracelet rafayel just secured around your wrist. "did you design this?"

"yup," he answers with a puffed chest. "good eye, cutie. how'd you know?"

you roll your eyes lovingly.

"first of all, i'm your partner, raf." turning your wrist, you admire the intricate swirls of the cuff. "second of all, your works normally have a trademark."

"oh?" he grabs your wrist and pulls you to him, his lips already tracing your wrist. "and what would that be?"

you try not to shudder when his siren eyes meet yours.

"isn't this from one of your lemuria collections?" you shakily gesture towards the sapphire seashell crested on top. "you always reference lemuria in your works, right?"

"wrong," his tongue darts out, savoring your quickened pulse as punishment for your incorrect answer. "it's not just lemuria i always reference in my works."

he tightens the cuff.

"it's you, cutie."

zayne

rings

he loves the subtlety of them

especially the ones made out of thinner bands

they bring out the beauty of your fingers

he loves the way they shine whenever you move your hands too

let's say the two of you are at a cafe

sitting across from each other and reading novels

except he gets distracted (in a good way) whenever your flip a page

your ring glimmers in the sunlight that's peeking through the window

oh wow, not only is there a halo over your head, there's a halo around your finger too

he can't help but reach out at some point

and trace your left ring finger

imagining what it would be like to gift you one

a simple one that conveys an impactful message

one he hopes you'll say yes to

and bound not only both his and your left ring fingers

but also your souls to each other

"zayne? are you alright?"

he snaps out of his thoughts, lifting his chin from his palm.

"sorry," he apologizes as smoothly as he can. "could you repeat that?"

you smile endearingly. his heart beats rapidly.

"i asked if you were alright."

"yes," he answers before clearing his throat. "yes, of course. why?"

"oh, it's just," you giggle. "you're still tracing my finger."

zayne immediately retracts his hand.

"sorry," he apologizes again. this time profusely. "did i make you uncomfortable?"

"no, no," you immediately reassure. "i liked it. it's just you were doing it for a while..." you pause before continuing. "i thought you were checking for dead skin or something."

zayne blinks.

"you thought i was checking for dead skin?" he repeats incredulously.

you nod slowly. now it's your turn to be flustered.

at that, he chuckles with a shake of his head and returns to tracing your left finger, ignoring your amusing assurances about how you always wash your hands thoroughly.

yes, he's most definitely going to marry you.

caleb

anklets

this totally wasn't inspired by that one scene in the main story where he pins our leg down with his evol

nope not at all

i don't know what you're talking about

he likes the ones that come with dangly charms

this is because he can hear you whenever you move

interpret that however you want

but really, he loves how the sound gets louder and louder

because that means you're moving TOWARDS him

he wants to gift you a whole bunch of charms

specifically apple and sky themed

it's over for him if you wear it while your legs are exposed

that man is on the floor, his hands haphazardly roaming up and down your bare skin

and when he notices the anklet with the charms that he gifted?

it's over for you

his fingers are slipping underneath the anklet, wrapping around your ankle, and pulling you to him

where's his face at?

uhhhhh

you're trying to control your breathing. you really are. but it's hard to when there's a man, an incredibly gorgeous one with lavender eyes deep enough to engulf you whole, settled in front of you, specifically in between your legs.

thankfully (not really), he hasn't done anything yet. he's just kneeling there with his metal fingers snaked around your ankle and his eyes transfixed on the anklet you decided to wear.

"uhm," you start, nervously shifting on the couch. "is there something wrong with my ankle, caleb?"

he finally looks at you. you can't tell if he's angry. definitely not with your foot resting against his broad shoulder.

"nothing's wrong, pips." he speaks after an eternity.

you sigh in relief. eager to get out of this compromising position, you try to put your foot down. keyword: try.

"caleb, what-"

"when did you put the charm on?"

"oh, uh," you notice him looking at the anklet again, but more at the apple charm. it has a snake coiled around it. "a while ago? i think as soon as you gave it to me."

he breathes in sharply.

you think it's over when he releases you. you're proven wrong when he grabs both of your ankles and drags you to the end of the couch, his chin dangerously close to your core.

"you really don't make it easy for me, pips."

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fromduck · 5 months ago

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No Glory

(Yandere Gladiator x Empress Reader x Yandere Emperor)

Summary: There is no glory in seeing your lover in the arms of another.

(Tw: Gore, Violence, Forced Relationship)

A/N: Guess who watched Gladiator II, hehe 🤭

-unedited-

-The Emperor’s wife is an untainted beauty.

-Despite the blood and death on his hands, the Empress remains pure from his sins.

-With soft luscious lips and unblemished skin, kind doe eyes a beautiful color.

-Draped in white robes, with gold accents. White Gold jewelry adorning her frame. Pearls hanging from her ears and entwined in her hair.

-She has a beautiful smile and kind eyes. Willing to choose mercy over shedding blood.

-Unlike her cruel husband who relishes in it.

-Anyone blessed to be within her radius marvel at her presence. Even more so when she smiles. Be careful not to stare too long, the Emperor’s watching.

-The Empress is beauty incarnate a being coveted by all people. Adored by the citizens of Rome and boasted as the most beautiful woman in the world.

-And the Emperor is a lucky man. A lucky man indeed.

-There are whispers of her divinity and where the Empress hails from.

-Some say she was given to Rome to the Emperor as a gift from the Gods.

-Others argue that she herself is a Goddess who willingly married their glorious Emperor.

-None know the Empress’ origins.

-Except for two people.

-The brutal Emperor of Rome.

-And a Gladiator who knows too much for his own good.

-A man who waits for the next fight he’ll be thrown in. Where he’ll be fighting for his life.

-For the delight and entertainment of others.

-His life matters not, it never did.

-Yet, when he wakes up, when he trains for his fights, and when he goes to sleep. He thinks of you. He lives for you.

-He knows the truth.

-You don’t belong to the Empire of Rome. Or that bastard Emperor.

-You belong to him.

-You were his long ago. When he wasn’t a war broken man torn by the cruelty of others.

-In a land far away from Rome, you both once lived together at peace.

-He’d been a gentle man once. Someone who pined after you in your youths, who’d begged your father for your hand, and had cried when he married you.

-He loves you so much.

-He had never been one for religion but if there were any gods out there, he thanked them sincerely for the life they gave him. One with you.

-Then the Romans came. And they took everything.

-They came with a hunger for blood and conquest. Ready to plunder their lands and take over them.

- They killed his family, his friends, people he had known.

-They did it with bloodthirsty grins. And the one who led them was the cruel Roman Emperor who lived for the violence.

-He killed many while on his black stallion. His sword plunging into innocent people.

-Man or woman, the Emperor didn’t care. He demanded blood and blood he would get.

-It was horrifying the strength of the Emperor as he slaughtered those around him.

- Your husband watched as he committed atrocities.

-There was no mistake, with that monster there, his and your home would be overtaken.

-Him taken a slave to fight in the pits of violence at the Colosseum.

-And you made a slave, owned by someone as an object.

-No. he wouldn’t let that happen.

-Now all he had left was you. And he would die before anyone touched you.

-So he prepared his stallion, picked up your precious form and placed you on the horse. You looked at him with worried eyes, tears slipping down your soft cheeks.

-He’d only look at you with loving eyes. Cupping your lovely face in his large hands.

-He remembered your look of worry as you questioned where would you both go. Your sweet gentle eyes pleading as you made him promise to never leave your side.

-He promised that not even death would separate you both.

-Then, he’d been clubbed upside the head. Pushed to the floor as someone began beating him with an inch of his life. He tried to get up but then another one had shown up with club and struck him in the head.

-Both Roman soldiers jeered as they continued their violent onslaught. He’d almost seen double.

-But what stood out to him was your anguished face.

-Your shrill cries of agony rang out through the air as the love of your life was beaten to a messy pulp.

-The stallion had jumped, and pushed you off of its massive body.

-You tumbled to the floor, hitting your back violently.

-With no regard for any injury, you’d quickly jumped up and tried to stop the cruel soldiers from killing your love.

-You’d shove at them yelling out for them to stop. Though to no effect as your smaller form was no match for the might guards of the Roman Army.

-One of them had only sneered at you before delivering a backhand to your face.

-You fell on your side, your nose bleeding from the impact.

-You quickly got up and clung to a guards leg as you begged for them to spare your husband.

-They ignored you and continued their onslaught.

-Until the galloping of hooves.

-There the Emperor was like a sign of death as he rode his gigantic black stallion.

-Blood coated his face and armor. None of it his.

-The war was over, Rome’s victory assured.

-And yet the Emperor was left unsatisfied.

-So he went on the prowl for more victims. All until no one was left.

-He caught sight of his soldiers torturing a large man as his wife begged them to stop.

-Any honorable leader would have stopped his soldiers and given the couple a swift merciful death. No more suffering was needed from a war already won.

-But he was far from honorable.

-As he approached it wasn’t because he wanted to stop the violence.

-He was honed in on the soft crying and pleading of the woman.

-A sound so delightful that he couldn’t help but want to hear more.

-He got off of his mighty horse. His steps confident.

-But as you turned around to face him, he felt his breathe hitch, his steps waver.

-It was as if he was in the presence of Aphrodite herself.

-There you were with tears in your big eyes and blood dripping down your nose.

-Even in filthy peasant clothes, you were the most beautiful being he had ever laid his eyes on.

-He had to had you. And have you he will.

-His eyes narrowed at your injured face. The soldiers most likely the culprit.

- “Stop.” He commands, his word alone enough to halt the violence.

-With a sob you run to your husband as he lay on the floor. You place his head on your lap. Ripping a piece of fabric from your dress, to clean the blood on his face.

-Your poor husband looks at you with swollen eyes, barely focused. Your heart broke further.

-The two soldiers quickly turn around. Sinking onto their knees to properly greet the Emperor of Rome.

“My emperor.” They say in union.

-They cower under the glare of the Emperor.

-“Which one of you hurt the girl?”

-Both soldiers look at each other confused. He wasn’t taking about the sobbing girl behind them, was he? The enemy?

-The Emperor’s glare becomes murderous. He draws his sword from his scabbard. It glints with the blood of his foes. But all know that his sword can just as easily kill who he pleases, friend or foe.

-It was at that moment, both the soldiers knew that whoever was guilty— they would be dead in the next second.

-So, both blamed each other, scrambling to have the Emperor believe them.

-“It was him my emperor, he was the one who hurt the girl—-”

-“Nay my emperor, he lies—”

-Both soldiers plead their innocence. But the Emperor isn’t known for his patience.

-With a brutal slash, he beheads the two soldiers.

-Their heads roll off their bodies.

-A huff of satisfaction leaves the emperor, soldiers who lie are not worthy of his army. He may not be honorable but he has no patience for lying snakes.

-He averts his gaze, to you, only to be met with a puddle of blood. Presumably your husband’s.

-The emperor snaps his head to your quiet sobs. He sees you dragging the large form of your husband, his arm over your shoulder, his feet dragging against floor.

-You both were trying to escape, this wouldn’t do.

-With large strides, he rips you away from your lover. The man falling gracelessly onto the floor. He tries to pick himself up but his strength is diminished. He could only watch as the Emperor, holds your hands and stares into your beautiful eyes in awe.

-He knows that look. That look of adoration as if in the presence of a goddess.

-Your husband holds the same look for you and now the Emperor does too.

-You try to escape but the Emperor’s grip is painfully tight.

-A whimper escapes your lips as the man gets down on his knees, his head bowed. He mimics the same loyalty his subjects would show him. But he is in the presence of a goddess.

- “The Gods have rewarded me by giving you to me.” He whispers breathlessly. “You are the one they have chosen for me. Rome needs an Empress. And I need a wife.”

-With the hunger of a man starved he yanks you down to him, grabbing you by the hair and devouring you into a brutal kiss.

-You cry out into the kiss, looking at your husband pleadingly to save you from the Emperor.

-But your husband is at death’s door, fighting and pleading Hades to not take him. For he couldn’t leave you to such a grim fate.

-The Emperor pulls away, his eyes filled with lust. He’ll have you, but not here in this filth.

-He picks you up a bridal style, taking you to his horse. Taking you to Rome.

-You try to fight him, but he only gives you a scolding glare. As if to say, ‘behave.’

-You cry quietly, looking at your husband’s dying form. The Emperor only sneers at him, spitting on his bloodied face.

-Your husband looks at the Emperor with rage. A rage that makes him shakily get up on his knees.

-Your hands are tied behind the Emperor’s neck, begging him to let you go. A smack to your thigh makes you shut your mouth.

-Once you’re both secured on the horse, the Emperor doesn’t even glance back at him.

-He rides off into the distance, with the blood of his people on his hands and the love of his life in tears.

-Your husband, a broken man, lets out a sorrowful scream. He promptly collapses onto his side, passing out. Pleading with the gods to not take him. He needed to save you.

-Later, he was dragged by his feet. Slave masters had found him. They bet on how much money the large man could make them.

-Him, a none violent man, was put into fighting rings were people placed bets on who would win.

-Your husband, a gentle man was turned into a former shell of himself with each blood shed that coated his hands.

-A man who once held you with tender hands was forced to use them to kill for the entertainment of others.

-He fought weaker men, stronger men, and terrific beasts. All who were in the same position as him. All for the entertainment of others.

-The life he was forced into would have broken others, but not him. Not when he was fueled by an anger. An anger for the Emperor who had taken everything from him.

-The hesitance he once had for killing became nonexistent with each fight. His worth as a slave becoming more and more valuable. And he was taken to more and more valuable places.

-Like a blood thirsty hound, he followed you. He was at the edge of death many times, yet he refused to part from you.

-He followed you to Rome, vengeful and angry. Many times he thought he’d die but once he made it to the grand city, he knew the Gods had given him another chance.

-He needed to be stronger for you. So that he would save you.

-His reputation as a vicious fighter spread throughout Rome. Many eager to see him in the Colosseum.

-And that’s where they took him.

-Now he stands in the arena, his heart beating erratically in his chest. Blood splattered on his face and armor. None of it his.

-There is no glory where he stands while his defeated opponents lay bleeding on the ground.

-There is no glory in the screams and cheers from the crowds. All chanting his name as he stands as the last man standing.

-There is no glory in his victories, where he gets to live another day.

-His eyes shift to where you sit in the grand seats of the Colosseum. You’re beautiful with your beautiful gown and jewelry. Yet you look at him with such sadness. As if he were another dream out of reach.

-His soft eyes harden when a firm hand grabs your soft one.

-The Emperor brings your hand to his lips, kissing it ardently.

-He doesn’t break eye contact with him as he does this. A clear claim of ownership over you.

-He grits his teeth.

-There is no glory when you’re trapped with that despicable man. There is no glory when you’re not his. There is no glory when the Emperor is still breathing.

-He returns the Emperor’s glare. Eyes hard with pure hatred and loathing.

-And for that, the Emperor must die.

#tw.yandere #yandere x reader #gladiator ii #gladiator 2 #gladiator movie #ancient rome #emperor x reader #gladiator x reader #reader insert #reader imagine #x reader #yandere x you #yandere #yandere emperor #tw.gore #tw.violence

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eraserbread · 9 days ago

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Whats on my mind… oh nothing 😞 just uhhh reverse cowgirl mirror sex where Nanami forces you to watch yourself 😔

your husband, nanami, wants you to see how much he loves you... omg

"do you trust me?"

you nod slowly in the bathroom, pressed against the counter with your husband at your back. it's date night, your favorite and a pain in the ass for kento. you two have a standing agreement - twice a month. he plans everything, never asking for further input, because loving you was not your responsibility, it's his.

the night went off without a hitch -- expensive dinner in the city, shimmering diamond boxes, and your sweet smile wrapped up in a modest dress.

six hours outside of the comfort of his home has him treasuring the twenty minutes back. now, he's watching you pick your jewelry off in the bathroom mirror, smiling shyly at him every few seconds when you feel his eyes linger.

you're playing your stupid sad music, and he's dealing with it for so long, because you just look so beautiful. so pristine and stoic when you're coming undone. almost... edible.

"look at you," he mutters, thick fingers finding the hidden zipper on your dress. in the large front-facing mirror, you give him a passing side-eye, swallowing back a giggle. "beautiful."

"stop," you tease, placing your bracelet upon your pile of gold to filter through later. "I'm not even doing anything."

"you don't have to constantly perform to be beautiful to me," he reassures, kissing over your bare shoulder before pulling the zipper to your waistline. the fabric bunches around your figure, loose and welcoming. kento's lips meet the middle of your back, just under your neck. it tickles, you draw a half-smile.

and you know it's coming, but you still gasp. he presses a hand to the small of your back, forcing you into a perfect ninety-degree over the cool porcelain.

your dress comes undone around you, falling from your body and hanging on like a vice. nanami tugs it from your skin and tosses it away. all you're left in, blinking up to see him through the mirror, is your underwear. no bra, no slip, no cover—just you and your flesh-colored decency.

"you always know the right things to say." you reply, voice muffled as you rest your chin on crossed arms. behind you, he's pulling open his shirt, smiling so fast that you could blink and miss it.

making love is muscle memory, now. kento's always and easily hard for you -- you're always welcoming with slickness and beauty. if you were counting, surely it'd be the fourteen-hundredth time he's slid your panties to the side and dragged his beautiful flushing tip between your cunt, sending a steady stream of air between his teeth.

he closes both big hands over your waist, guiding you back to slide against his cock. you're coating him thoroughly in all of your arousal, whining stupidly in your skin, begging for more.

"please, baby." you bite, furrowing your head deeper into your arms as his cock just eases right in that perfect little dip of your entrance before popping free.

breathless already, kento nods. "look at me, doll. can i see your face?"

"put... put it in." you ignored him, so kento ignores you. instead, he wraps his hand around the front of your neck, pulling you flush to his clothed chest. you're bare, blushing, and completely at his visual mercy. the soft hum of background music covers your little whines enough that you weren't as embarrassed.

"look at me." he tries again, peeking his head in the crook of your shoulder. he leans down, kissing your dewy jawline and licking over your neck. he's humping over you from behind, tight hips focused and precise as he hits the promise of penetration every time. "nanami, open those eyes."

"so embarrassing," you shake your head, brave enough right now to defy him without second thought. you could open your eyes to study his flushed, serious face bright against your skin, but that means you'd also have to see your flushed, horny skin and smudged makeup.

"what is embarrassing? i don't understand. it took you nearly two hours to do your makeup in this same mirror tonight."

"that's different-

"no, it's not." he cuts you off, tone dipping into that familiar authoritative way that makes your knees buckle.

your nanami is strong enough to lift anything. with or without his curse, so it's nothing for him to lean down, sliding his hands behind your knees. you're not sure what you're expecting, but it's not for him to hoist you up.

jarred, your hands fly up for some kind of stability. you end up with one curled around the back of his neck, the other digging into the muscle of his arm that's holding you up.

"what are yo-

"hm," he answers for you, taking a step closer to the edge. he guides your dangling heels down into the counter, kissing all over the back of your neck. he drags one hand free from holding you up, taking it down to his cock to position it just right for gravity to sink you down half an inch. it's enough to pull a reaction out of you, just to knock you breathless.

"ohmygod, can't-

"you will." he's demanding you with a dark edge to his careful tone, pushing his hips far enough for the angle to give his cock the perfect shot at that spongy, sweet spot inside of you.

you're tossing your head to the side, warding off his dark stare over your shoulder. then, he's taking a big step back, leaving your toes grasping for friction and your body loose enough to slide all the way down his thick length.

the intrusion sucks a deep cry from your lungs, eyelashes fluttering as your eyes squeeze shut. "f-fu, kentooo!"

in the mirror, nanami's eyes are hooked onto the slick intrusion, obsessed with the way his cock disappears inside of you. your thighs are trembling in your reflection, warm pussy blooming deep red from the stretch. he has to swallow down anxious gobs of want just so he doesn't loose control and fuck you in the way he knows he shouldn't

But it's hard—impossible, really. you're whining so pretty, clawing at him so needily, saying his name like it's your gospel. he's obsessed with it—with you and how you take him like it's the first time, every single time.

he thinks all of these sinful thoughts as you gather your bearings, eventually blinking open your eyes for an intense blush to coat your naked body.

the reflection you find yourself staring into is lewd but personal and beautiful in a way only you and kento could achieve. he's so tall behind you, big and caring as his hips rock upward, fucking you so gently and loving. he's kissing all over you, but only where he can still blink up and watch your needy, perfect cunt swallow him up like a pill.

smudged makeup runs down your face as tears spring to the surface. you're so off balance, that you let yourself fall back on him, and he doesn't even falter. kento holds you tighter, completely pressing your thighs into your chest and running his tongue across your shoulder.

"watch it, dear. look how you're taking me," he bites out, tongue running over his top lip. thick lines of arousal drip and squelch against his cock and it's so filthy to watch, but you do. you're a good listener, and nanami loves how embarrassed you get when he steers too lewd. "it's my favorite view. just wanted you to see this time."

"st-stop, it's too muchhhh -- fuck!"

"it's okay, you're okay, i know."

"mmh, i'm gonna..!"

"yeah? keep those eyes open." kento's whispering in your ear and his voice is so sinful and graceful, laced with so much beauty and love. "ah - open'em."

for the first time in forever, ken cums before you. he's biting into your shoulder, keeping his eyes open and staring into your stretched cunt. like a gentleman, he fucks you through it, staccato grunts growing more desperate with each dragging thrust.

this time, you're caught staring as the seed coating his length forms a sticky, white rim against the base. it's so unapologetically sinful that it drives you crazy and fuels your heart and mind in so many beautiful love-licked ways.

his familiar face is stoic, yet ever-changing as he pants and kisses your ear. thoughtful to the core, kento doesn't stop until you're crying his name and gushing warmth all over his stained cock, begging him for more he's already given, but would give you ten times over.

you two have found it—that perfect semblance of give and take that makes every emotion and touch light fires you didn't even know existed. kento is so gentle when he puts you back down on your feet, chasing kisses when you turn around that you give, and he takes.

it's a lifetime thing. an unsaid thing.

a beautiful thing.

#awwww they're (we're) so in loveeee <333 #.nanami <3 #eraserasks #.the wife guy!! <3 #jjk x reader #jjk fanfic #jjk smut #nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami smut #kento smut #kento x reader #kento nanami x you #kento nanami x reader #nanami kento x you #.favs :o

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selineram3421 · 1 year ago

Text

Lovesick Alastor Headcanon

Alastor X Reader

Warnings ⚠

⚠ deer man is possessive/obsessive over you, hides it somewhat, very yandere coded but doesn't force you to do anything you don't like, suggestive/implied, hint at cannibalism, blood, ☺🔪 ⚠

This goes for almost all versions of the Reader. Child reader/platonic relationships excluded.

He's had his eye on you for a while now. Of course you didn't know since he always kept his composure.

You were a jewel among rocks to him.

Will do anything to make you fall in love with him. Not make but persuade.

Uses Vox as a dummy whenever he can to make himself look good.

Waits for you to approach him.

And when you do he's the happiest demon in Hell.

He likes when you wear red. Especially if you are covered in blood.

Its not yours, no. He'd never let that happen.

Literally crazy about you.

He doesn't do PDA but behind closed doors is a different story.

Alastor is a gentleman! He won't do anything unless you ask him to. Kisses, cuddles, hand holding, biting-

*cough*

Depending on what you like of course.

Only spills your blood with your permission. Fully consensual.

Likes holding you close or having you nearby. It calms him down when he's upset or too peppy.

When you are at the hotel, he likes whisking you away to his office for kisses.

Buys you jewelry, food, clothes. A lot of gifts that are in his colors. Maybe one thing you'll wear everyday with a microphone on it.

Everyone knows to STAY AWAY.

Of course Vox is an idiot and tries to woo you but fails miserably.

"You know how much I adore you my dearest.", Alastor caresses your face. "Jusqu'à la fin des temps ou jusqu'à ce qu'il n'y ait plus que nous." (Until the end of time, or until it's just us.)

Makes sure you're content and well taken care of.

Of course there are times when he does too much and you get upset.

"Alastor, please let me do this for myself.", you'll say with a pout.

"Forgive me my darling.", he kisses the top of your head. "You know I like taking care of you, but as you wish."

He shows off his demon form because he knows you like it.

Teases you about it later in your shared hotel room, until you're hiding your blushing face.

"I thought you liked my radio dial eyes?", he leans closer, purposefully turning them into radio dials. "￦as ¡ wr¤Ω&?", he asks, static more noticeable in his voice.

"D-don't!", you'll stutter and shiver, peeking through your fingers.

His smile widens and he'll continue transforming. "What's the matter my love?", he chuckles as he looms over you. "Trouble holding back?"

Falls in love all over again when you get pissed at someone.

Watches as you tear up said demon and cheers for you. "Save me a piece or two darling!"

Man worships and adores you.

No one will ever see you make the Radio Demon blush, but you don't mind. That's only for you to see.

He's yours after all.

Thank you to @the-friend-lol for making me the gif.

~Seline, the person.

Taglist@

@ducky-died-inside @scary-noodlesblog @c4rved-pumpk1n @stolas-thebirb @naelys-the-aster @biromanticboba @kiraisastay @pooplyface1423 @lbcreations-blog @+?

ML for Alastor🎙

#alastor #x reader #gn reader #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor the radio demon #the radio demon #alastor x reader #headcanons #hint at yandere reader #wink wink

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l1tw1ck · 17 days ago

Text

Symbiotic Bonding

Bottom!FTM Peter Parker x Top!Masc Reader

🕸️ Word Count: 1,477 🕸️

AFAB Language Used | [Series]

CW: Non-Con, Yandere Peter, Murder (Blood, Mentions of Corpses), Wombfucking, Creampie

Peter blinks a couple times, trying to wake up from what he thinks is a dream.

Blood is splattered all over the floor. Hundreds of glass shards reflect the bright moon outside. Did he kill someone?

Peter whips his head around. His heart drops. A corpse. With markings around their throat. He looks at his hands, it's not his usual suit color. Black and white. He can clearly see the victim’s blood on this suit.

There won't be any evidence he was here. His suit…or whatever he's wearing, won't leave footprints. His mask is intact, no stray hairs to analyze.

He gulps. He needs to figure out what happened. Maybe he passed out while trying to defend them. Peter lets out a shaky breath before leaving.

Peter still can't wrap his head around what happened. He knows that the symbiote you were studying escaped and chose him as its host. You’ve been looking for it but he's scared to tell you. He also knows that the person he killed was someone who worked in your lab. What he can't understand is why. If it happened in the lab or the building itself, he could blame it on the misfortune of being at the wrong place at the wrong time. But it happened in their home. In a place Peter would never have a reason to enter. He didn't even know their name until a few days ago.

Then it clicks.

They touched you. He assumes the symbiote has some sort of connection to you. Is it capable of having complex thoughts and feelings? Or could it just see you as its caretaker?

Whatever it is, he needs to get rid of it.

“Peter, you’ve been zoning out lately. I know one of your friends went missing so if you need a break, I’ll make sure you get paid time off.”

“What?” He looks at you, bewildered.

“You didn't hear? Flash disappeared without a trace two days ago.”

What could Flash….

“Oh my God.” Peter covers his mouth. A while ago, Flash had a private interview with you. Long before the symbiote was even discovered. It knows his memories.

“You should go home.”

You're right. He needs to focus on getting rid of this thing.

“You're so soft, Peter.” You gently kiss him all over. “And you feel so good.”

Peter moans as you fill him up.

“I’m glad you killed my husband." Your cock pokes his cervix.

Peter wakes up gasping. Another corpse. The corpse of your husband. He didn't even know you were married. You must've kept your ring somewhere safe, that kind of jewelry isn't safe in a lab. But how did the symbiote find out?

His spider senses alert him of your presence. You're never going to forgive him. He tumbles to the ground. His body begins to move on its own, getting him out just before you open the door.

Peter doesn't stick around to watch.

In the morning, an email is sent to the team. Everyone's getting time off. The place can't really function without you and everyone knows it.

No matter how hard or what Peter tries, it won't leave his body. When he's out of the suit, it just…becomes part of his skin. It leaves…a tattoo. He doesn't like to look at it.

He has blood on his hands. He has to tell you. He knows he does.

“Peter…” You let him into your hotel room. There are bags under your eyes. It's his fault. He did this to you and he can't blame the symbiote. He should've told you. “How did you know I was staying here?”

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” Peter frowns. “It’s my fault, Doctor.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The symbiote—” He drops to his knees. Strong feelings of arousal overtake him like waves in a storm. He finds himself grabbing your pants, part of the symbiote transfers itself to you. You start to feel what Peter feels too. You know what he wants. What he needs.

You get down and pin him to the floor. Your aggression causes his head to hit the ground too but he can't feel the impact. Your hands move on their own to remove both of your clothes. “Peter-”

He moans your name and spreads his legs, his pussy dripping slick onto the ground. You're both fully aware of what your bodies are doing and you can't stop it.

“What– what’s going on?” You sound exasperated as your body forces you to penetrate him. Peter can see your pain. He knows how much you hate this. There's nothing he could do to you that's worse than this. It hasn't even been a day since you found your husband's body.

“I’m sorry- I didn't—” He hisses in pain. You're just as big as you were in his dream. “I can't control it-”

As you reach deeper inside him, you start to lose your awareness. You groan with pleasure as your brain removes all memories of your husband and replaces them with ones of Peter. “God…Peter~”

Peter looks at you with confusion.

“You're so fucking sexy.” You slide your thumb around his womb tattoo.

“You- your- your husband-”

“You wanna be my husband, baby?” You smile.

If the symbiote can access memories, it's no surprise that it can alter them.

“I..”

“You're so cute.” You kiss his cheek. “I’ll buy you a ring tomorrow.”

Peter looks at you in fear. He can't get over his guilt. His mouth hangs open once you reach his cervix. He whimpers your name.

“Fuck….I could…” You bite down on your lip.

“Do it.” Peter's mouth moves on its own again.

You bury your face into his shoulder as you thrust inside him. You can hear his adorable voice even better now.

Peter's almost surprised it doesn't hurt. There's nothing normal or realistic about this, it seems reasonable…in this situation. He doesn't understand the symbiote’s obsession with you. Is it amplifying his desire for you or is it acting on its own? He can't tell.

You marvel at the feeling of penetrating his womb. Your horny sounds drown out the guilty and fearful thoughts in Peter’s brain.

It's not a sin to enjoy himself, it's not like he's the symbiote. Does he really have to resist the very thing he's been dreaming about for months? The thing that's drastically increased his masturbation frequency? Maybe the symbiote is just making him act on the desires he was too ashamed of. Maybe he is the bad guy, but…

You shakily moan Peter’s name as you start to fuck him. He can see your excitement painted all over you. If you're feeling good, then isn't that a greenlight? If you're acting like this just from your memory being altered, then technically, you are consenting. Technically.

Peter wraps his arms around you. “More– more~” He moans your name. “It feels so good!”

“I didn't think it'd be possible..” You sloppily thrust into him. “What if I….”

Peter already knows what you're thinking. “Yes~ inside– come inside~!” He already comes at just the thought.

“Peter~” You give his skin a gentle kiss before coming inside him. You pull your head back. “Can I…Can I keep going?”

Peter smirks. He can tell you're still hard. He wraps his legs around your body and sits on top of your lap. He's at the point where he can no longer tell whether it's him or the symbiote in charge. “I wonder how this’ll feel.” He holds onto your shoulders and starts to ride you. “Oh God..” His mouth hangs open. It's even more intense like this.

He picks up the pace, increasing the erotic sounds in the room. If it's not soundproof, you two are gonna have a few complaints. He leans in to kiss you, sealing your relationship with his tongue. He's fully embracing this even though he knows he shouldn't.

You deepen the kiss and grope his body. He moans into your mouth. The two of you come at the same time, cum dribbling out of his pussy.

Peter relaxes his body, his breaths in sync with yours. He soon falls asleep in your arms, finally catching up on all the hours he missed this month.

It's been a week and everything has been completely altered to benefit Peter. He has no idea how but the story of your dead husband was twisted into a false story. Now, reports say your friend who was staying over got caught in the crossfire between criminals. They got into your apartment and used your ‘friend’ as a hostage. Not a single person or website has any information about you ever being married. Although, that'll change once you two set the date.

He knows it's awful and completely contradictory to his beliefs, but he's glad it worked out. He loves you.

#wicks🕯works #top male reader #male reader #ftm character #dom male reader #tw noncon #wicks🕯series #spider man x male reader #spider man x reader #spider man smut #peter parker smut #peter parker x male reader #yandere peter parker

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