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#vulnerability? sorry all they got is puns

obsessivevoidkitten · 11 months

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Shark Baited Ooh La La! Pt. 2

Yandere Goblin Shark Merman x Purple Firefish Merman Reader (CW: Kidnapping, blood, pain, peril, sharkman yandere, mermen, merfolk, anglerfish merfolk that try to kill the reader, minor character death, their living privileges are revoked most thoroughly, thalassophobia, a horrible title with a very forced pun for which I refuse to apologize) Word count: 1k (Sorry this took 11 months for me to start. No smut here, but I think if you read both parts together they fit nicely. Happy mermay!!) First part can be found here: Shark Baited Ooh La La! Pt. 1

It was easy to make the decision that you should try to make a break for it, there was nothing he could do to you if you were caught that he hadn’t already done and even a small possibility of making it home was worth it. You held your breath as you carefully extricated yourself from Damian’s sleep-loosened grasp, you had enough wits about you to grab a sharp looking dagger Damian had hanging on the wall, and then quickly made your exit out of the sea cave that he called his home.

Wasting no time you swam with all the urgency that your exhausted and aching body could muster. You remembered the general direction and swam and swam and swam.

But once the sea cave was behind you you were left in the cold embrace of open ocean. Your whole life was spent inside the city and reef you had called home, over time the natural homing instincts of your kind had been almost completely lost and you were no exception.

While you were indeed heading in the correct general direction that wasn’t enough as just being a bit off would end with you not being able to find your way home. Inevitably you veered just a bit and found yourself completely lost, though you didn’t realize it yet.

Only when you felt that you had swam for hours did you finally realize that you should have already arrived back to the safety of your home.

Now you were panicking, this was not a place for you. This was not a good place for anyone except the mightiest predators of the ocean. And you were vulnerable. You were tired from your previous struggles trying to escape Damian after he tied you up, you were battered, bruised, and sore from the rough fucking he had imposed on you, you were tired from your hours long swim in search of home, and to top it all off you were weighed down by being full of Damian’s eggs.

You could practically hear your heartbeat, sure that at any moment something or someone would emerge from the endless blue surrounding you and make a meal of you. Your hand shook as you gripped the dagger you stole tightly.

In your fear you desperately searched aimlessly for any sign of your beloved reef. But it was simply no use. You were on the verge of tears, but then things got even worse…

Suddenly you were swept up in a powerful current! Had you been at full strength you almost certainly could have been able to power through it and remove yourself, but in your current state there was just nothing for it. You were swept deeper and even farther away from your goal. You were unable to even maintain a grip on your weapon as it drifted uselessly below.

You were only swept up in the current for several minutes but it felt like hours, when you were finally released you found yourself a decent distance above a large and sinister looking trench. The cold caused you to shiver, you were not used to the cold water that occurred at this depth.

Out of the trench you saw three orbs of light shortly followed by the dimly illuminated forms of three thin merfolk of some kind, too far away to really make them out. You immediately dashed away as best you could but your own bioluminescence gave you away and made for an easy hunt.

It didn’t help that the current had beaten most of your remaining energy out of you.

They easily began catching up to you and you could soon see that these were anglerfish merfolk, if the sickly green glow of their lures didn’t give them away then the wide empty eyes and the wide gaping maws and lolling tongues certainly did.

"Please! Please leave me alone!" You sobbed desperately.

As they steadily pursued you and came ever closer they finally entered striking distance. They lunged.

You spun around sharply, smacking one away with your tail with strength you didn't know you had while dodging another. But a few lucky strikes couldn't save you from a small pack of skilled predators.

The third one managed to catch your arm and bit down on your hand causing you to shriek in pain. Red flowed from your arm behind you as you managed to shake your assailant loose. You swam as fast as you could but you didn't make it far before you were pulled back by the sharp clawed hands of these angler folk.

"NO NO NO NOOO!" You screamed, hurting your throat, as you felt teeth sink into your tail.

Suddenly the pressure of the bite stopped as the anglers that had their hands on you were pulled swiftly backwards. Confused, you looked up to see your hero, Damian, as he crushed the throat of one of the anglers and viciously bit into another until it stopped moving.

The final one came at him and grabbed it and easily snapped its neck.

Now that all three had been deaded most thoroughly Damian swam over to you where you were struggling to keep yourself in place in the water.

"Fucking dumbass! What were you thinking!? That you could just run off? Think I couldn’t follow your scent?"

Despite his harsh words he gently picked you up and held you close.

"When I woke up without you in my arms I was so fucking pissed! But... looks like you learned your lesson so... I won't be hard on you..." He kissed your head and started swimming back to his nest. He wanted your wounds dressed as soon as possible and then he wanted to hold and kiss you as you slept in his arms.

"Your wounds don't look life threatening but I still need to treat em'. Okay babe?"

You responded only with a soft sniffling whimper and by burying your head in his neck. You were bruised, bleeding, and fatigued. You just wanted to be home, and you supposed that meant Damian's den because you surely weren't ever going to attempt to escape again.

#yandere terato #yandere teratophilia #yandere boyfriend #shark husband #yandere merman #mermay #yandere mermay #yandere sharkman #goblin shark man #merman reader #male reader #m/m #yandere sharkman x male reader #yandere x reader #My OCs #My OC Damian

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1-800-moondust · 1 year

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Bob Velseb x GN Reader (nsfw headcanons)

edit by PeterTheYes1 on Twitter

Bob is such a fucking horny bastard (pun intended)

Your cuddle sessions turn into grinding and the grinding descends into you being pinned under him getting your guts rearranged

He loves to hear you beg for him, seeing you all vulnerable and needy really gets him going

His favorite positions are breeding press and missionary

Basically anything that let's him see your expressions

Despite him being quiet most of the time he can get loud

Like I'm talking animalistic growling and shit, but when he is coherent he's praising you

Bob likes to take his time at first so he can take in every last detail of you but after a while, he starts to speed up

Eventually, it will get to the point where he's pounding you into the bed so hard the bed starts shaking

When he's buried inside you he tries to get as close to you as humanly possible

Sometimes in the process he grips onto you so tightly that he leaves handprints on your hips

Plus he's got good stamina, so don't be surprised when it's like your third round and he says he can keep going

Bob likes to overstimulate you until your legs are shaking and you can't even think straight

He definitely has a blood kink, so he'll give you small wounds so he can lick up the blood that surfaces

He's not opposed to giving you small cuts and stuff like that but he'd never stab you or anything

He's a big guy, and he knows that he could easily hurt you

So he tries to make sure he doesn't cross the line when getting rough

Sometimes when he's in the middle of eating you out/blow job he'll stop and bite on the inside of your thigh hard and lap up any blood that comes to the surface

Bob loves to cum inside of you and watch as it oozes out of you

He has big hands and knows how to use them to turn you into putty

Aftercare is him drawing you a bath and cooking you a nice meal or if both of ya'll are too tired to get up he just cuddles you

Here's some horny posting with Bob 💀 Sorry if it's bad I've never written smut before. Also I'm thinking about taking request while I work on some oneshots. So if yall would like that feel free to tell me!

#bob velseb #fanfic #fanfiction #spooky month #bob velseb x reader #hcs #headcannons #smut hcs #smut headcanons #devil guy

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yourstrulyrika · 4 months

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happy new year people. i disappeared for some time but i was farming for my babygirl ruan mei. also i have the biggest hungover so sorry if my fic below’s gonna be a bit rusty…?? but anyway!!

just look at her. i need HER

bdkdbdkdbdj!!! anyway to the actual smut now

characters — ethan winters, leon kennedy, chris redfield

type of fic — headcanons!! (i will write a proper fic one day no worries)

today’s topic: riding!

warnings — fem!reader, besides that none, it’s mostly comfort sex of some sorts because i looveee it, but there’s just a bit of angst in Leon’s and Ethan’s parts. mostly in Leon’s. also spoilers for re8.

Re8!Ethan Winters

— okay hear me out. after the whole village thing this man became PARANOID. who wouldn’t really? let’s assume you’re in place of Mia. he’s always over you after that, overprotective is not strong enough of a word. and you, being his beloved, couldn’t watch him stress himself into oblivion. and that’s where the idea came.

— at first, Ethan was a bit surprised. he’s a total service dom, of course he agreed, but you never really proposed this idea. not that he doesn’t like it!!

— so when you started peppering kisses all over his face, cupping his cheeks and kissing his pretty features, he let out the prettiest moan you ever heard. it straight out sounded *angelic*. and that just confirmed how excited he is beneath all this anxiety. you’re not even riding him yet, and he’s already the prettiest mess <3

— but when you actually took him inside? he’s sure he got *blessed*. that’s what he is. blessed. totally lost his mind the second you took him whole. and when you start moving? dear god, he’s so quick to cum, he’s a little embarrassed. but you comfort him and tell him it’s okay <3

— during the whole thing though, he’s always holding you. he’s never ever separated from you, nope, always holding your hand, or his hands on your hips, cupping your breasts or pretty cheeks and kissing all over you, just like you did to him <3 sex with Ethan is always so comforting to both of you. also, Ethan totally adores tits. like he loves your titties, no matter the size. just a thought <3

Vendetta!Leon Kennedy

— okay hear me out. i picked vendetta Leon because this man needs love. i genuinely love vendetta Leon so fucking much.

— he’s always so tired, doesn’t want to do a thing even when you’re around, he doesn’t even propose sex anymore. he feels *guilty*, like he’s neglecting you, but he’s just too tired to be his dominant self. he needs a break, and some love, desperately. and you plan on giving him just that

— he’s not sure why you stick around him. why you still love him when he’s a total mess. when you ask him to let you ride him, he didn’t know what to say. it wouldn’t be the first time, no, but it’s just— something in his mind. why would you want to do that? did you pity him? is that what this is about? but then you kiss him. and he agrees instantly, melting into the kiss.

— he actually got so hard when you straddled him. when you fished his cock out, it was already throbbing against his stomach. you started with showing love to him (and his cock), and he quite literally started tearing up. he needed this, even if he didn’t know that earlier. he’s not making much sounds, but you just know he loves it.

— he wanted to instantly return the favor but you made him just sit prettily and take it. he reluctantly agreed. when you start riding him, god, he thinks you’re the most beautiful woman. an angel, his angel. just watching how your pussy takes his cock, swallows him whole (no re4 pun intended btw), your juices mixing — it makes him lose his mind. he actually takes a bit of time to cum, and you know, Leon IS observant . so when he notices you growing even a bit tired, he takes control and guides your hips. no denials, nope, you’re being guided, end of discussion.

— when he cums, it’s inside you, vulnerable tears leaking down his cheeks. you kiss all of them away, and Leon smiles for the first time in eternity. he’s so grateful for you <3

Re8!Chris Redfield

— HAVE YOU SEEN HIS TITS? HAVE YOU SEEN THEM TITS????? dear god im feral for this MANWHORE!!! he is a slut. a whore. himbo.

— when you proposed riding, he was like yeah okay, because he’s a hard dom, okay? he’s a dom. he’s controlling the place even when you’re on top. you’re still *under his control* when riding him. and it’s fucking hot. if you want him to be sub, tie him up. that’s the only way btw.

— anyway! when you actually start riding him, his hands NEVER leave your hips. gripping them so hard he leaves bruises, makes you bounce hard on his dick just to see your body bounce. specifically your tits. if you’re doing reverse cowgirl though? dear god he loves it. loves slapping your ass, loves watching it jiggle. it either has to be ass or tits, he’s always appreciating one of them if not both. depends on how you ride him.

— his head is buried in your chest/shoulder, lets out the hottest grunt there dear god. it’s muffled by your skin, but it makes *you* cum on the spot. he just chuckles, praising you and calling you his pretty girl. also. he knows you love when he rubs his beard against your skin — he does just that. he loves making you clench around him, makes him feel powerful.

— so we all agree that Chris is HUGE right? Like 8 inches or 9. (this is literally the most, more than 9 inches would actually hurt you. remember that big cock is not everything !!! too big hurts !!! smaller don’t!!) also he’s fucking thick. fills you up so well. doesn’t matter if you’re chubby, skinny, whatever, he makes a belly bulge every time. and he ADORES IT. he cums on the spot when he sees that. and the amounts of cum he spills out? he fills you up like you’re a cream puff. filled with cum that if he pulls out, you’re leaking it down your thighs instantly. and he’s so proud of himself!

end!

sorry guys, had to disappear for a while </3 back to farming honkai i go. wish me luck, i have the biggest fucking hungover after new years eve ahhh. ALSO! ETHAN AND CHRIS NEED MORE SMUT. PLEASE. IM DESPERATE DIDBFKDB i love all ethan and chris writers lemme gimme u a kiss. happy new years again btw!!

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil #resident evil smut #chris redfield #chris redfield smut #chris redfield x reader #leon kennedy x you #chris redfield x you #ethan winters x reader #ethan winters #ethan winters x you #ethan winters smut

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pinievsev · 11 months

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Can you please make a xikers hunter x reader

Small Moments like these

Hunter X GN!reader

I have two requests for Hunter and none of them are specific so I tried my best with this! Hope you enjoy! As always! Requests are open and you can find my masterlist pinned on my blog! <3!

Pairing: idol!golden retriever!Hunter X Black cat-ish!sick!GN!reader

Warnings: reader has a cold? And might come out a little short. Overall just pure fluff

Summary: hunter comes to your house excited to show you his group's new song, but you're not exactly in great shape.

Taglist: @laskyy @cam-phoria-stay (if you want to be added interact here or shoot me an ask)

Your parents where out of town for business and you had the house to yourself for a week or so.

You were huddled up in a heavy blanket on your couch, a bunch of tissues all over your coffee table and a, now cold, cup of tea sat forgotten on the corner of said table as a random show you had stopped paying attention to a while ago played on your TV.

You were sick. You hated being sick. Scratchy throat, watery eyes and runny nose. It's all so annoying. You felt utterly exhausted every second that passed and in your mind, it made you vulnerable, which you hated being as much as you hated being sick.

You groaned at the sound of your doorbell ringing (pun intended) and got up, dragging your blanket with you like a cape. As you opened the door you were met by the overly excited voice of your boyfriend, Hunter, which you normally loved. He was always optimistic enough for the both of you.

But right now, loud sounds were the last thing you needed. "Pleaseeee be quiet" you said under your breath, your throat hurting with each syllable you dared to utter. He quickly did as you asked, walking Into your house when you stepped aside and closing the door gently behind him.

"what's wrong, jagi?" He sounded concerned, which made you feel all fuzzy inside. "I'm sick." You mumbled, coughing as you finished speaking. He looked around, taking in the current state of your living room. "And you didn't call me?" He asked, giving you puppy eyes.

You walked back to your couch and sat cross legged with him following suit and sitting down next to you. "I didn't want to disturb you. You've been busy with all the idol stuff lately so I thought I should let you rest on your time off?" You said with coughs and sneezes in between every couple of words.

He clicked his tongue and gently smacked the side of your head, which you barely felt. "And you think, there's any other way I'd like to spend my time off but with you? Hm?" He asked matter of factly. "Right, but I'm sick and I don't won't you catching a cold as well." You mumbled.

"jagiyaaa~" he whined sitting closer to you. "I could care less about a stupid cold. I want to make sure you're okay!" He placed an arm over your shoulder and brought you against him, you immediately relaxed in response and leaned your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes as you sniffled.

He kissed your forehead and layed down on his back shifting so you were laying on his chest and the blanket was now comfortably over both of you. "How about this, you get some sleep and when you're all charged up, well get some food" you groaned and looked up "can't sleep. Not tired" you said trying to speak as little as possible.

You both sat up again, you still clinging to him. "Then... Do you want to listen to my group's new song..? I'll keep the volume down" you perked up at that.

"you guys have.. a new song?" You had completely forgotten, oh my god how could you forget. "Yeah it just realised a couple of minutes ago. I ran here as soon as I saw it!" He said happily, pulling out his phone.

"oh right! Sorry, I forgot about that" he shook his head and placed a hand behind your own to pull you back to him. Your forehead resting on his shoulder while he looked for the song.

Just as he promised he played the song quietly and started humming along. You wrapped your arms tighter around him and did the same. You've never been one for hug and kisses and all that sappy stuff. But with Him, it was different. You didn't feel the need to fake being happy and you could always tell him if anything bothered you.

And he had promised to always do the same.

You leaned up and pecked his cheek making him smile. "You like it?" He asked you hopefully. You reached over and turned the volume slightly higher. "I love it."

You smiled at him then sneezed, shaking your head lightly. A small habit you have had since you were a child. He chuckled at you and ruffled your hair.

To you, it was small moments like these when you didn't have to act all happy, because you were. In the comfort of your boyfriend, your very sweet, gentle giant of a boyfriend you wouldn't trade for the world.

#fanfiction #kpop #kpop x reader #xikers imagines #xikers fanfic #xikers imagine #xikers oneshots #xikers x reader #xikers hunter x reader #xikers hunter #xikers #golden retriever x black cat

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pinkandpurple360 · 3 months

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Hey, as someone who was nearly groomed, I find the line “two deadly sins taking advantage of a traumatised scared disabled kid who lost everyone and was lied to that his closest friend did it on purpose” kind of odd? Well ok for Mammon I agree it applies. But for Asmodeus? When did he lie to him about his closest friend? The RoboFizz situation’s not one I really see as Asmodeus “taking advantage” of Fizz because a. he clearly doesn’t want to do it and b. what the hell does Asmodeus gain from it (especially if apparently he’s not getting any of the profit per Viv’s Patreon?).

I’m not saying the man’s a saint, but I felt your original Fizzarozzie criticisms were legit and got me thinking deeply about codependency and taking risks. I enjoyed them a lot, and I liked how you didn’t demonize (no pun intended) anyone. But This just kind of seems like a stretch, and kind of disrespectful to compare a fictional character to a groomer when that’s not what happened at all!

I’m very sorry that happened to you, but none of these shallow characters in this story can accurately represent that. Its a show that works within its own logic and has protagonist centric morality.

Mammon 100% groomed and exploited Fizz for one, but it was Asmodeus who still designed, built, shipped out, sold, and advertised those robots all across his ring and in his businesses. For nine solid years. And he only decides to have the “I’m pretty sure you might be uncomfortable maybe”conversation on year ten. The best he could do to stop it was to try make fizz quit his job? Why does she make some of the men in her stories so…weak?

Apparently this is, like with stolas, trying to retcon all the bad things the royal boyfriend did to make him look better in the peasant x Prince otp. But it doesn’t, it only removes all depth. Even though it’s completely and utterly illogical. Her patreon literally contradicts her own story. The products have Asmodeus’ brand on their foreheads. He makes them in his factory, he sells them, he does profit off of them. When people see and hear his ads, they buy from him. He partook and contributed in the exploitation. And why did he have to make them all conscious? He’s like Lyle Lipton times a thousand, except he donates to an orphanage. Billionaires with pure hearts of gold like Warbucks just don’t exist.

It seems that it wasn’t the sins who lied, but they did “swoop in” so to speak, to “save” him. And he was vulnerable because of the lies he was fed. When he was at his absolute lowest, both of them do all the things they do without fizz’s informed consent. Emphasis on informed. It’s only this ep they ask if he’s sure. But he feels unworthy of them both because of it all.

Point a. …he still did it though, he still made those things. He owns that entire factory, it’s assets, and pays all of its employees. You’re telling me he gets them all to work for free, he pays for this all just with his savings account?

I think you kindve..are saying he’s a saint? Can you tell me a few things he has done wrong in episode six or seven of s2? Products don’t appear on shelves for free and you don’t keep making them for free either, you get a cut, or you can’t keep building them. Mam and Oz were clearly business partners in all of this. Asmodeus isn’t stupid and he isn’t weak…why are we doing this all again..

if he had regrets about it after experiencing love that’d be one thing. And an actually good story. But saying he did it for free cause he just…can’t say no to mammon or fizz?? It’s exclusively the moustache twirling mammon who has an ounce of evil for some reason, while no other sin has any? I’ve literally seen better written fanfic dude.

#helluva boss critical #Fizzarozzie crit

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nights-flying-fox · 8 months

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Deep (Purple) Thoughts (and Realizations)

Chapter 3: Truth and Facts

◇ Click here to read on AO3 | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 ◇

Donnie follows his suspicions, this time he asks some questions and gets some answers.

TW: Mentions of character death. Some self loathing, but not too deep (ha, unintentional pun).

Donnie got up from his chair suddenly, face not revealing any emotions. He turned around and headed to one of the three rooms connected to his lab. While his brothers were talking loudly, Leo and Mikey trying to explain what was going on to Raph, April followed Donnie.

“What’s wrong?” She asked.

“The files are removed.” He answered without looking, his eyes were focused on the doors.

“What?” She exclaimed.

“I have an idea who has them, though.” Donnie explained.

April looked towards the doors. Realization flashed on her face as she understood.

Before she said anything, Donnie turned to look at her. “It would be better if you stayed here. I want to have a private talk with him.”

“Okay, but if I hear shouting I am getting in.” She stated, stopping in her tracks.

He nodded as he continued walking. Then he opened the doors, entered the room, and closed them.

The room was small, lit with a dim light. It was painted purple, and inside it were many small gadgets mostly suitable for small robots and drones. There were small neon details too. Similar to his lab, except it was completed unlike it. A perfect room for Shelldon.

Shelldon, who had taken the files.

How could Donnie not guess this? Of course, Shelldon would find a way to get through his security system and reach the files! He knew that Shelldon wouldn’t listen to him, he should’ve been more careful!

He saw the ‘bed’ that Shelldon was lying on. “Shelldon, I know you are awake.”

There was no reply.

“Shelldon,” Donnie repeated. “We have to talk.”

Shelldon slowly turned his head towards Donnie, “Oh, uh, hey dude.”

“Did you take the recording files?” He needed this sorted out as soon as possible. “Because it is past midnight and there is no one else that is capable of doing that.”

He didn’t answer at first. Then, “Leo would’ve taken them if I didn’t.”

Donnie raised a brow, “What?”

“I watched the security cameras, he came to the lab yesterday too.” He explained.

Donnie wasn’t expecting that. What was Leo doing in his lab? Was that why he was in his lab tonight, waiting for them? This meant more questions than answers, and Donnie didn’t like this at all. He had to think about that later though, “But you didn’t take them because of him, right?”

He almost missed the nod Shelldon gave. New question: Why was Shelldon so quiet?

He knew the answer but didn’t want it to be true. The simple idea of Shelldon changing as well scared Donnie. He didn’t want this. He didn’t want Shelldon to know everything, for him to have the emotional scars from them just like the rest of his family.

Unlike tech, he couldn’t heal scars caused by bad memories.

Yet, he asked the question:

“Did you watch them?”

Another quiet nod. Donnie felt like he was going to throw up again.

“I told you that you couldn’t watch them.” Donnie glared. He didn’t mean to sound harsh, but he wasn’t feeling good about this.

“I know.”

“Then why did you watch them?” This didn’t make any sense. (Except it did, because logic explained it all, but Donnie ignored it, just for this once.)

“I was curious.” Shelldon replied.

“I thought you knew that you should listen to me no matter what.” Donnie said.

“I am sorry.” His voice cracked.

Donnie only once had heard his voice crack.

He suddenly stopped talking and looked at Shelldon carefully. Examining the drone, he noticed how he had curled up as if trying to hug and comfort himself. How hurt he looked. Scared. Just like that time a long while ago, when he lost him for the first time against the feral Shredder they fought.

Shelldon looked like a little vulnerable kid.

Oh.

“How… how much of it did you watch?” Donnie asked, now slower.

“Why didn’t you tell me the truth?” Shelldon asked back, confirming Donnie’s fears. He knew about the truth of what happened to him, and what Shredder did to him.

“I didn’t think you needed to know about it.” He explained. “It was bad enough the first time. You didn’t need to relive it again.”

“This doesn’t make it better.” Shelldon said, obviously trying to hide his hurt.

“Yes, it doesn’t.” Donnie admitted. Then he sat next to him. “...I am sorry.” Shelldon shifted to see him better, surprised to hear him apologize. Donnie continued, “I didn’t want you to know any of this. It was bad. Really bad, and this doesn’t make it any better either.” He sighed. He felt like he was rambling, but he was trying his best. Maybe he was doing a bit better than before thanks to Doctor Feelings though. “But I just didn’t want you to get hurt too.”

Now fully turned towards him, Shelldon looked ashamedly to the ground. “I am sorry too. For taking the files… and watching them.” He apologized. “You are right. They are bad.”

Donnie smiled, opening his arms. Shelldon accepted the comfort immediately, hugging him.

After a while, he whispered. “Thanks for kicking Shredder’s butt.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“...I’m sorry for Gram-Gram. I wish I could’ve helped.”

“You did amazing there, Shelldon. She would be proud of you, just like I am.” Donnie said, repeating the words his father had said months ago. He ignored the bittersweet sadness he felt. He wished that they could’ve saved Gram-Gram, but at least she was happy and reunited with her father now. Thanks to Ninpo, they knew this.

“And maybe you are right about the end of the world being not cool too.” Shelldon added.

“Glad we agree.”

“These gumheads were too disgusting.” He said.

“Definitely.”

Another silent moment. Shelldon was quick to fill it though, “Hey Donnie,”

“Yes?” Donnie replied.

“Thank you.”

Donnie leaned back to look at him, confused. “Why?”

“I... uh... for keeping me around.” Shelldon avoided looking at Donnie again.

“What?” Donnie couldn’t understand what Shelldon could mean by these words.

“You could’ve built something better than me. Something stronger and better at protecting, I bet you got awesome ideas after seeing Casey Jr.’s tech too---”

“Wait. What are you talking about?” He held Shelldon so that the drone could see at him.

Shelldon answered with a quiet voice, “I have failed you twice now.”

Donnie’s eyes widened as he understood what was going on. “Shelldon, you did not fail.”

“I did. It is facts, the evidence is in the footages.”

“You know that is not true, right?” Donnie retorted. “Shelldon, you did what you could, and you are still growing, learning, and improving. You don’t need to be replaced. You are my boy, and you did incredible things. I would never ever replace you.” He said every word with determination, genuinely believing everything he told, and hoping Shelldon understood that.

Shelldon looked at him with big eyes, “Do you really mean all of that?”

“I really really mean every word I said.” He confirmed. “Two ‘really’.”

Shelldon seemed to beam at that, hugging Donnie again. He gladly returned the hug.

It could’ve been another comforting silence moment, but the shutting from the lab interrupted all of it. “Not even a half hour and they’re acting like animals. Incredible, yet not surprising.” Donnie huffed as he and Shelldon broke the hug.

Donnie headed to the door, with Shelldon following him. Since he and Shelldon had talked it out, now he had something else to focus on and solve. Why did Leo want the recordings?

#rottmnt #deep (purple) thoughts (and realizations)#rottmnt donnie #rottmnt shelldon #rottmnt fic #save rottmnt #unpause rottmnt #rise donnie #rise shelldon #donnie-centric #*sobbing* i love shelldon so much tiny guy the drone ever #he is donnies son you cant change my mind #nighty write y #tw death meantion #tw mentioned character death #tw selfhate #tw self loathing

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lunagojo · 2 years

Note

deadpool x posion ivy reader?

a/n: I am so sorry about how long this took! Please enjoy! <3

Deadpool w/ a S/O Who is Like Poison Ivy

We all know how Wade is when it comes to...well, anyone he's attracted to

Basically a massive dork

You honestly thought you hated men with a passion until you met Wade

So when he got with you, there were a LOT of puns about your powers

Maybe a few jokes about you tying him up with vines and how much he enjoys it (lol)

He thinks you're absolutely beautiful! Like...he cannot believe he ended up with someone as stunning as you

He also feels closer to you than anyone else, because of his regeneration abilities he's unaffected by your poison, and he feels like you both are kindred spirits due to your immunity to most things

He claims your poison makes your kisses more SpIcY

I feel like a lot of the time he wouldn't exactly know what you're talking about? Like when it comes to wanting to protect the "Green", he's like "...Okay baby! You do you!"

Once again I feel like the two of you have a lot in common, considering how you both were nearly killed and emerged as different people (Wade with his experimentation, you with the murder attempt by your superior)

You're both able to be emotional and vulnerable with each other, the trust you share is unbreakable

You both are very touch starved and in need of genuine love and affection, and you both provide that for one another

Wade is just head over heels for you, no toxins required ;)

#deadpool x reader #deadpool #marvel x reader #I am so so sorry for the delay on this!!!

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buckyarchives · 1 year

Text

we’re not really strangers | S. Stan [1.]

summary: a broken and washed up writer keeps showing up in Sebastian life as he struggles with his own loneliness. two people in two different world, but the tug is so intense it begins to eat Sebastian raw. he has to learn to love full heartedly and you need to learn to trust again after you got cheated out of your entire life.

word count : 4.9k

warnings: topics of depression, brief mentions of sewerslide, body dysmorphia

author note: i’ve never wrote an rpf and i used to dislike them but i just read a really good one and i watched doll eyes so that started this. i’m basing sebastian’s character based off of psychoanalysis him over that past 4 years (i can’t help it i’m sorry) and the couple of times i’ve met him. but i hope he’s not this depressed irl. take a place a before fresh and it’s mostly his pov. will probably be like 3-5 chapters. also wrote this in like 2 hours please be kind

masterlist | read on AO3

Sebastian stan likes blondes, he likes coffee after noon, working out, his mom, space and all its possibilities. He likes European countries yet he won't leave New York no matter how hard he thinks about it. He loves his family and friends. He likes when people tell him good job and are nice to him; even if it’s only because he's Sebastian Stan.

Sometimes he wonders if he really likes that last one or if he hates it, it depends on the day.

He will spend his days reading and talking with actors or directors, getting flowers for his girlfriend of the season. He doesn't read reviews about his movies. He’ll talk to his mom on the phone as often as he can, he works out almost every morning but he hates running. He stands in front of a mirror before going to bed, alone and vulnerable, picking apart everything he sees and wonders if everyone else sees it too. Probably.

But not tonight.

No, tonight he feels good - better. Recently casted for a new movie, a movie with a script and a director he feels confident about, which is always the best feeling. Last year was good for him, but this year needs to be better. Sebastian is tired and needs to get away from commercial movies and Marvel, but Bucky Barnes will always haunt over his shoulders like the way Carter Baizen did for so long.

And tonight is only the beginning. They haven't started filming yet, not close. Daisy is in the middle of filming and it's still early, too much workshopping and bonding as a team before that. Sebastian likes to know who he's working with, the director and their work ethic and past projects. The co-stars and their humor and if they can cry on command or not.

Mimi is a nice director. She's new and has fresh ideas - ha, that's a pun. She makes Sebastian laugh and not feel like a character even off-screen. Sebastian likes her curly hair.

She laughs and the air is cool, Sebastian can see her breath. “It was a nice day, I'm really looking forward to working with you.”

Sebastian is lonely and this feel like a nice way to segway to ‘i have to leave, goodnight.’

“Me too, and the script is just - wow.” Sebastian exaggerates his words to match his feelings, “it's deep.”

He wants to hold onto the conversation forever and drag it out until it's so awkward he has to grit his teeth. Sebastian doesn't want to go home now - but it's late, past midnight - and despite the rumors, New York does have to sleep sometimes. His stomach grumbles and he suddenly has the appetite of a teengers first hangover.

Mimi nods and thanks him and they continue to walk. Sebastian speaks up, “is it weird to say iI'mhungry and not tired.” he looks down at his watch again, it's almost 2 am.

And Mimi understands, she smiles. “Not weird, I agree. It might be the excitement for this project but – what are you hungry for?”

“Coffee, breakfast food,” Sebastian replies honestly.

The director smiles, Sebastian hopes there are no paparazzi - this looks like a date - no, it doesn’t but the press latch onto any woman he's seen with as a date.

“I know a perfect place, and it is empty,” she says. Sebastian is suspicious - it's late, he repeats in his head.

“This late?” his eyebrows quirked up.

“I know the owner,” she affirms. Sebastian nodded and they continued walking.

Mimi talks about the movie more, how she's close friends with the writer and coincidentally, she met her through the owner of the said cafe they'd soon find a safe haven in. Sebastian nods along to her words and listens, he hates the sound of his own voice sometimes. Listening is nice.

They reach a cafe-deli type. The sign says it is closed and no one is inside but the lights are on. Mimi had a grin on her face as she knocks on the door. Sebastian watched as you came from the back and unlocked the door, Mimi smiles and greets you excitedly but your face remains monotone - almost cold. Mimi takes no offense, this must be how you always are.

You don't take immediate notice of Sebastian, which is nice for once. Mimi talks about how starved she is and desperately needs an egg sandwich from you, Sebastian agrees in his head. You hold your head high and strong like you know better, but not in a snobby way. Sebastian can tell when someone is snobby pretty soon on, people like that end up surrounding him more often than not, unfortunately.

Sebastian's eyes are an icy blue that reminds you of the winter lakes back in the midwest. That’s the first thing you notice, Mimi acts like this is her home as she plops down at the bar. You still don't say anything. Sebastian wonders if you're a writer too, or maybe an actor. He doesn’t recognize you. Sebastian sits next to mimi, he feels weirdly comfortable despite how cold and empty the cafe is.

The sound of an espresso machine starts before Mimi can even order sometimes, she must go a lot and then a coffee is in front of her in no time. You finally turn to him, you're wearing lipgloss, and he notices way too quickly.

“Would you like a coffee, Sebastian?” you ask him plainly. He didn't tell you his name, neither did Mimi. You must know him then, it wouldn't be surprising but weirdly it did.

“Yeah, anything you have. And eggs - sunny side up if you can.” you don’t reply, nodding and your mouth is thin-lipped. Not a smile nor a frown. You leave in the back, Sebastian doesn’t realize his eyebrows were furrowed until Mimi says something.

“Don't worry, she's always like that. I promise she's not miserable or mean.” mimi says, gesturing to the cold demeanor that you carry. Sebastian wonders if Mimi has to explain this to everyone, or if you hate the Captain America movies and mimi just want to make it less awkward.

It's a comfortable silence for a while, aside from the city whispering from behind the glass windows and the sound of your cooking. Sebastian catches glimpses of your face and he can't help but think you're beautiful in a stone-cold, greek statue, model type way. He can imagine seeing your face in a famous painting from the renaissance time.

Maybe you caught him staring, or maybe it was just the cold demeanor again but he swore you glared at him.

“Cooks out - so it might not be as good as usual,” you say and place the food in front of them. Mimi grins and begins to eat. Sebastian pulls out his billfold to pay, he doesn't know you and feels a twang of guilt at the thought of keeping you up past closing time. He wants to pay extra.

You notice him before he can pull out any money, “it's on the house.”

Sebastian thinks of that as a sign that you don't hate him, and you're just monotone.

“Y/N helped Lauryn write the movie, specifically your character too.” Mimimumbled through cheese and bacon.

That’s the first time he's heard your name, Sebastian repeats it in his head so as to not forget.

You scoff and Sebastian thinks for a moment you're mad, you're not. “Helped? I practically gave her the entire idea. And I swear, Mimi if you don't use La jardin for the dance scene, I'll riot in front of your house.”

“You get so defensive every time, but whenever we ask to add you as co writers you say no.” Mimi snarks, shaking her head and smiling. “Mysterious, mysterious girl.”

“Can't say I imagined Sebastian Stan as Steve though, I was thinking more of Chris Pine.” you joke, Mimi knows you're joking but your flat tone makes Sebastian second guess if you are actually upset about it or not. “was he busy?”

Mimi laughs, good - a joke.

“Not even a second choice?” Sebastian smiles sheepishly, he hopes you were joking.

Sebastian thinks you're going to smile, and your lip twitches. You hum and it sounds as smooth as the coffee tastes, like honey. “Maybe third.”

Your eyes warm in his direction, the feeling in his chest is foreign.

“You’re a better critic than you are a casting director.” Mimi jokes again. Sebastian wonders how long you've been friends.

“a critic?” Sebastian perks up, critics are his worst enemy in life. No matter how much he can ignore them, one well-written article can make or break an entire year for him.

“Not actually, I just watch a lot of movies and have strong opinions.” your eyes land back on him.

“Harsh. Harsh opinions.” Mimi makes a point, and you roll your eyes and almost smile again. Almost. Sebastian wants to see you smile, what a weird thought for a stranger he’s only known for 20 minutes. You do make good eggs, but how do you fuck up eggs?

“Anything you recognize me from?'' Sebastian slaps on a cheeky smile, and maybe it's arrogant to think he knows the answer to that. But he is Sebastian Stan and you watch a lot of movies. You open your mouth to speak but Mimi interrupts again, not in an annoying way.

“Don't bruise his ego,” she warns.

How harsh could you be? Sebastian starts to regret asking about himself.

“Anyways, how could I not? I vividly remember seeing the covenant play in the hospital when my baby sister was born; a weird choice for hospital cinema.”

Sebastian's glad you don't mention Marvel or gossip girl, the covenant isn't any much better either though.

“That is very weird. Any critics?” Sebastian doesn't even know why he asked tt, he's going to regret it.

Mimi whispers an ‘oh boy’ under her breath and Sebastian feels like he needs to buckle down and brace himself. Even worse as your eyes scan him, judging him.

“I'm not here was your worst movie and you need to fire your agents or whoever told you that was a good idea.”

Oh?

“I thought it was a good script.”

You look at him as if he had three heads. Mimi looks scared.

“I can see the vision but the story tries too hard to be deep and pretentious - it settles on just being a cry fest and it doesn't even do that well. The main character is just a shitty person with a shitty life and the writing fails to make me feel bad for him, no matter how good you or J.K Simmons's acting was”

Sebastian hangs onto the small compliment hidden in there by his fingernails. You're not done yet.

“I, Tonya was really good. Marvel is… Marvel, same thing for gossip girl. The rest of your characters have been the same angry or toxic men trope over and over again, no offense, you need more range.”

That hurt a lot less than Sebastian expected. He feels speechless, mimi is still eating and is silent. Sebastian isn't hungry anymore and your cold eyes are stripping him down naked. He still thinks you're beautiful.

“Do you like anything I've been in?” why does he keep asking questions he knows he won't like?

You think for a moment, look him dead in the eye, and smile. And even if it's meant to be snarky or sarcastic, Sebastian thinks it's beautiful and warm. Warmer than the coffee in his hands. It reaches your eyes and crinkles at the end and he knows it's genuine, it utterly stuns him and he almost thinks he missed your response.

“Once upon a time.”

Sebastian can’t help but smile at that, “give me one complaint so you don't send me home with a broken heart.” he bargains, half joking with small doubt it won't be back handed.

“I have controversial opinions on superhero movies and the people that play them, but you portray Bucky Barnes really well.'' You say quietly like you're scared of being nice, Sebastian takes it and he doesn't notice he's grinning with a light in his eyes. You don't either, mimi does - she is already texting Lauryn about it.

“I don't like to comment on people's acting abilities because I'm not an actor, but I can tell when someone is good or bad.”

Sebastian narrows his eyes at you. “You sure do comment on people's writing and directing though, you're a writer?”

Your eyes are cold again and your back straightens, even Mimi tenses and Sebastian wonders if he said something wrong. He gets no reply from you, and Sebastian sees a mask fall from your face - one he didn't notice you were wearing until now.

“No, I'm not.” your voice is monotone again. When did it have feelings? Sebastian doesn't remember when you started to sound humane and passionate, he said something wrong.

Mimi rushes the rest of her food in her mouth and reads the room as you retreat behind to the kitchen again, so quickly and quietly Sebastian almost doesn't notice.

“It's now late-late, I'm heading home.” Mimi sighs, heavily implying he needs to leave too. Sebastian agrees.

He glances back at you once more when Mimi yells goodbye, you don't look at Sebastian.

Sebastian prepares for the movie, he doesn’t think about you or the cafe for two weeks. He goes on a date and he doesn’t call her back.

his house is suffocating, it’s too big for him and he knows it. women and friends stay over but it feels empty. He needs air - paparazzi - he groans. suck it up, Sebastian. put on a coat and find a place to eat, he chooses a blue sweatshirt and sunglasses.

Every time he goes out he thinks maybe no one will recognize him. He's always wrong. He should know better.

aimlessly he walks. Sebastian knows the streets of New York like the back of his hand. He feels lost despite the fact he’s walked down this street many times, so much changed anyways.

Jones' place.

he remembers the place from a few weeks ago, remembers you and your cold face. Sebastian remembers you smiling and him feeling giddy about it, but now he can’t imagine it in his head. Sebastian had said something wrong, he remembers that. He wishes he got your number.

you knew him and you didn’t dance around him like a celebrity - when did the person get erased and celebrity scribbled in its place? you were normal and not on vogue or GQ and you talked to him like he wasn’t either.

in a daze, he walks in and sits down. it’s open this time, and a group of teenagers sits at a booth in the corner. an elderly man sits alone at a table, Sebastian wonders if he’s married, and if she passed and that’s where they used to sit together. maybe you’d know.

but he doesn’t see you at first. tapping his finger on the bar - you appear and you don’t look at him, don’t notice him. walking straight past him and giving a chocolate croissant to the elderly man, maybe you did see him and are just insanely good at covering it up, you don’t smile at the man but your features lighten.

you turn back around and your eyes hit Sebastian dead center like you knew he was there because Sebastian was right.

“same as last time?” you ask, of course you’d remember his order. it was simple and that was your job.

Sebastian nods, “no egg, just coffee.”

“It's not on the house this time!” you yell as you disappear into the back.

Sebastian smiles for some reason.

Daisy Edgar-Jones' accent makes Sebastian feel weirdly at home despite the fact he’s not from England and has never found any sense of comfort there.

Sebastian bites the inside of his cheek as he listens to Mimi speak about the movie, he dozed off, to be honest. the writers and producer speak over each other in the zoom call. Daisy is still in England and they start filming in two weeks. Sebastian is excited - the type of excitement that you mix with anxiety because it also makes you want to throw up.

Your name is mentioned briefly and Sebastian is paying attention now. Lauryn dances around the fact you practically wrote the whole script - why don’t you take credit? Lauryn is an extroverted woman who smiles a lot and tries to make everyone as comfortable as possible, the same with Mimi.

It makes no sense. Why are you so distant and monotone?

Sebastian opens Instagram for the first time in a week. He realized recently most social media was bullshit, he was turning 40 this year, and there are more important things to focus on.

search history.

(imsebastianstan) y/n l/n writer

(imsebastianstan) y/n l/n

(imsebastianstan) sundance film fest

(imsebastianstan) daisyedgarjones

(imsebastianstan) mjonf

Sebastian has been acting since a kid, he took a break between then and his first real job but he's been surrounded by film and cameras most of his life. Being in front of a camera should come naturally to him. Maybe it's just a mid-life crisis thing but he feels like he wants to throw up.

Coming back from some stupid junket, he doesn't remember when the feeling of needing to hurl settled in his stomach but even hours after, it hasn't left. Sebastian wonders how many people know that he paces in his room before filming, he'll anxiously bite on his nails and look in the mirror and wonder if he should have skipped that meal earlier.

Home feels foreign now. He misses his mom and he can't seem to find time to go see her. His stomach feels empty - it is empty. He's only had a salad today.

Sebastian wants to flee, where it's private and warm. His steps carried him through the city, maybe he should call that girl back? He doesn't want to be lonely tonight.

Suddenly, he feels the presence of cameras snapping pictures of his panic attacks across the street. It's like a sixth sense now, he hates it. Sometimes when his day will blur and depression hits, he'll see the photos of himself later not recognize the person on his phone. Or he'll just hate what he sees.

He doesn’t want to have to do that routine again tomorrow morning.

Then he remembers you, remembers the street he's on. and then before he can realize his breath is already suffocating him and your cafe is in front of him. It's closed but the lights are on - why is he here? Why is he knocking on the door?

Your face is concerned when you open it, Sebastian's chest feels heavy, can you tell? You must have, you must be familiar with the look of despair, panic, and the intense feelings of doom, because you let him in with no word.

Sebastian's staring again as you make him the same coffees he's ordered twice now. You're nice but guarded, Sebastian wonders if you'll ever let it down. Because he is now. Your hair is tied up and your full face is in view, no muscles move and you look just as monotone and bored as before. You look like statues, beautiful statues. Like your cheekbones and exposed collarbone were sculpted with stone or clay. Your lips are plump, you're not smiling - not frowning. You remind him of the Mona Lisa.

Embarrassment washed over him when he jolted like a paranoid creep as you set his coffee down. Sebastian mumbled a sorry under his breath and you don't say anything still, why haven't you said anything?

A laptop and cup of tea are set in front of the seat next to him, a google doc is open and he sees a script. He’ll feel guilty about it later but his neck cranes to see what is written. Sebastian barely reads a line before the laptop closes with a slam, you're looking at him with a glare, and he flinches again.

“You're nosy.” you say, making your way to sitting next to him now, sipping on the tea and staring off into space.

“Thought you said you weren't a writer?” Sebastian feels like he's going into tricky territory, scratch that - he knows he is.

Mumbled through your lips, “I'm not.”

You sound haunted, Sebastian wants to know why.

Maybe he is nosy.

Sebastian needs to keep talking or else his anxiety will eat him raw, he’ll choke on his thoughts and die in the middle of your cafe. Then he'd feel really bad. At least he doesn't feel lonely, a ghost of a person sits next to him yet he feels more comfortable than in a room full of people. How odd.

“You're not going to ask why I knocked on your door at 11 pm? Or do you just let any stranger in at night?” he tries to joke, but it comes out half-hearted like most things.

“You looked like you were going to die, I'm not going to be responsible for Sebastian stan's death,” you say, scrolling through your phone. Twitter. “I'm sure some 16 year old would dox me or something.”

Sebastian laughs, slowly picking up on your dry humor, but he knows you're unfortunately right.

“How'd you meet Lauryn?” Sebastian asks, clawing at your guarded walls as he also tries to calm himself down. He doesn't even remember why he was panicking earlier.

“A film festival in Greece, 2009 - I think,” you answer honestly, sipping your coffee again. Sebastian notices the rings on your fingers.

Sebastian wants to ask how you got into films - he feels like that's the wrong thing to say again. He doesn't want you to drive him out again, hoping to get your number before he leaves.

The iPhone in his pocket dings, it's Ellie, his date from a few days ago. She's asking if he wants to come over with a winky face, that her bed feels cold and Sebastian wants to throw up again.

“Girlfriend?” you ask, side-eyeing his phone.

“No, I don't have time for that right now.” part lie, not his girlfriend but somehow he always finds time to date. Sometimes he hates himself for it because he always loves half heartedly. He never liked commitment anyways. “You?”

“No,” you say plainly. Changing the subject at an uncharacteristic rate, “why have you so shaken up at such a time?”

Sebastian wonders if he should lie and make up some stereotypical actor excuse, or just say he doesn't know. Avoid the topic that he’s spent the past 3 weeks with new people every day but he still feels lonely. That he wants to crumble in front of any camera. That he's tired of picking himself apart.

But you sit there so mysteriously and Sebastian wants to know you too. Maybe if he gets vulnerable you'd feel okay doing the same, he tries to avoid the thought of expecting that from you, because he shouldn't. This will be an olive branch.

“I feel lonely.” he starts. “I don’t want to be home right now, so I went for a walk, and then the paps -“

he cuts himself off before he turns into word vomit. you're sitting next to him, not looking at his face. Sebastian wants you to look at him.

“you live in the city?”

“Rockland county.”

you hum, “far way to go for a walk.”

“I know.”

a moment of silence, Sebastian wants to cry for some reason. “Are you going to that girl's house?”

Sebastian's eyebrows furrow for a second, you're referring to the text. you were just as nosy as him it seems. and maybe he could go to her house, either it would destroy him or he’d feel a little better. she’d probably ask him about the new movie, flirt, and have sex, she’d talk to him like a character and he’d go home. He doesn't want to go home.

“no.” Sebastian almost whispers, “I'm not sure where I'm going.”

he was so lost, it’s pathetic.

you look at him for once you don’t look frozen. Sebastian wants to know what’s going on behind your eyes. you’re thinking, that’s obvious enough. eyes scanning him up and down he feels vulnerable. it’s unfair how much he doesn't know about you.

“I have a spare room if you're desperate.” you offer. an olive branch. Sebastian feels like choking.

He also feels guilty, because he doesn't know you and you’ve already made him coffee for free when you didn’t need to. “no, you don’t have-“

“You feel so small and tiny in a big house like that, it’s like living with a ghost when you are lonely, right? it feels taunting, even." You speak honestly, speaking from experience, you’ve been where Sebastian has. He still feels like crying but now he understands, the loneliness slowly drains from his body without realizing it.

“okay.” he whispers, almost scared to accept.

this is you being vulnerable, he soon realizes as you tell him you’ll finish closing up - living only across the alleyway in the back. you're being vulnerable by sharing a space, we’re he’ll see you raw and open.

and he saw it. old coffee mugs and everywhere the matching stains in the wood. a sweatshirt is thrown over your couch. a record playing with 80s goth music. bright orange bottles of pills. Banksy prints are nailed on the wall. books on screenwriting stacked on the coffee table. a cut-off and discarded hospital bracelet on the counter.

Sebastian asks about the vinyl, but he doesn’t bring up the empty Xanax bottles or the bracelet. you're glad.

The apartment is small and he feels warm. it’s foreign and strange - but it’s the most comfortable he’s felt in at least a week. you show him the extra bedroom, the beds made and it's mostly empty. a side table with a lamb and a wall full of shelves. books and movie scripts fill it, he sees an oscar award hidden and dusty behind a copy of pride and prejudice.

the front room is filled with warm lights, it’s settled the fog in his brain and he feels better You're sitting on a green couch that you found on the Facebook market place and he thinks you’re beautiful. Sebastian sits next to you and understanding is shared between you two, what it is? he’s not sure. but he feels safe and understood and he doesn’t want to leave.

Sebastian is not tired and neither are you, your leaning intoSebastian'sn touch and he doesn’t question why.

“thank you.” is all he can think to say.

“don’t, not yet.” you sound tortured and Sebastian can’t stop the word from leaving his mouth. he just has to know.

“what broke you?”

too much. everything. nothing at all. a man. my talent and my desire to be my loved, you think. a shaky exhale leaves your mouth and Sebastian thinks he carry your sorrows if you’d just smile at him again.

“I don’t know.” you settle on and Sebastian understands.

Sebastian's hand grazed above your arm, you don’t flinch out of his touch. your warm and soft and he melts. he wants to ask you why you have an Oscar, if it’s yours and why you were at the hospital 2 days ago and why you're chasing him with a stone-cold face

the extra bedroom goes unused and his limbs are warm and feel perfect against yours. the warm lights lull him to sleep, your breath is steady and Sebastian realized you smile in your sleep and he hopes it’s because he’s caressed your back as you dazed off. Sebastian wraps a blanket around the two of you.

now don’t get anything incorrect. Sebastian stan doesn’t believe in love at first sight, sometimes he wonders if he even believes in love at all because sometimes it feels impossible to love. his mother and father taught him commitments are lies and his partners convinced him of that. he loves his friends - he thinks - but they always come and go. they never knew him anyways.

but as the sun hits his face and he feels the blanket around him on your couch. Faye Webster is spinning on the record playing softly and you’re swaying your hips in the kitchen. you don’t realize he’s awake and your mask falls down. your cooking something and humming along, a thin-lipped smile on your face.

Sebastian doesn’t know you but at this moment he does. he feels normal and like he’s known you his entire life. it’s scary and he feels oncoming doom but he lets himself be and watches.

you seemed more alive this morning as you gave him toast. he didn’t ask for it but it was the best toast he has had in a while. Sebastian asks if you slept on the couch all night, you smiled and he almost dropped dead. no reply but that was enough. he danced with you in the kitchen, it was weird and domestic and Sebastian is looking at you like he’s in love.

but he’s not. and neither are you. The fog settles and you say goodbye and open the shop. Sebastian goes home and he never got your number.

and he has to leave tomorrow for Canada and go back to his life.

Sebastian doesn’t talk to you for another week.

#sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan rpf #seb stan #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x ofc #sebastian stan x you #actor rpf

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joecooperzz · 6 months

Text

freak accident (vampire!trey parker x fem!reader)

I've been working on this since July! I never thought I'd finish it, but I did. Hope it makes up for me being too busy to do Kinktober the right way. Thanks so much to @sqiblet for helping my develop Vampire!Trey and giving me some ideas that I incorporated here. 🖤

Word Count: 6,804

Content: Vampirism, biting, graphic description of blood, dubious consent, supernatural intoxication, oral (f!receiving,) vaginal fingering, praise kink, possessive behavior, overstimulation, unsafe sex

Minors (anyone 17 and under) DNI!

The entire time, every bit of you had been screaming that this wasn't right.

Even as you fluttered your eyelashes at the cute young bartender, making a pun about the lewd name of your drink, your senses were overwhelmed by your boyfriend.

On the standard level, you knew that your heart belonged to Trey. Hell, you were obsessed with him in just about every way possible. You'd keep him in your apartment with you forever if you could. Alas, work and commitments got in the way, forcing you to separate every once in a while. Whenever he returned, you were always waiting for him, flippantly asking him if he needed to eat while noting the look of overwhelming desire on his face. By the time your neck was exposed, he was already jumping on you, inspiring agony and bliss in equal measure as he sunk his teeth into your skin.

Yeah. Nobody else could make you feel like he did.

Still, you flirted with the bartender, putting on your best show. This was just a little game you were playing, after all. You even let Trey pick your outfit for the occasion, — some skimpy black dress that he had spent a good portion of his most recent paycheck on, just because he wanted to see you in it so badly. It fit like a glove, hence why it was your designated 'showing off' outfit.

And show off, you did.

Even when the lingering venom from Trey's repeated bites still coursed through your veins, reminding you that you would always belong to him and only him, deep down. Even when you knew he was in your head. Even as he sat next to you, the telepathic bond between the two of you telling you not to even think about it.

Even if you weren't really thinking about it, you pretended to, just for the hell of it.

That's how you ended up here.

The door to the single bathroom slams shut behind you, just before strong hands land on either side of your waist. Before you can think too hard about it, you're being hoisted up to perch on the edge of the sink.

Trey kneels on the tiled floor. Even when he's looking up at you, he manages to make you feel small and vulnerable.

You shiver as one of his large, freezing cold hands lands on your bare thigh. "Did you enjoy that?" he bites out, fingertips digging into your skin.

You swallow hard. "I didn't mean…"

"Ohh. You didn't mean it, huh?" His fingers dig in harder, nails leaving behind half-moon imprints. Though you know that this will be the least of the pain that he inflicts on you tonight, your breath still hitches. "You were just testing me, weren't you?"

His grip loosens up, leaving him to trace gentle circles on your skin. You nod, desperate for whatever response he might give you, be it positive or negative. As it stands, all you need is his attention, for him to just keep looking at you, letting you revel in the fact that you're his.

He continues to fix you with that cold, blue glare. "Words, angel," he encourages you flatly.

"Yes," you manage. "It was all just a test." You shift against the porcelain, feeling the first rush of heat between your legs. "I'm sorry."

He chuckles, causing you to freeze.

When you're at home on the couch, head spinning and eyes bleary as Trey pulls you closer to him, his laughter is a warm sound. When he's looking at you like this, though, all wild and hungry, the sound sends a shiver up your spine, warning of the things to come.

"Well, baby," he says. "You might not have known it, but I was testing you, too." His hand begins to travel up your thigh, so very slow. "And you failed. Big time."

Your heart begins to speed up even more, echoing in your ears. "Sorry," you manage. "I'm so sorry. I didn't—"

"Shh." He begins to tug at your skirt, pushing it further and further up your thighs. "Save your breath, sweet thing. Apologies aren't going to get you anywhere now." He freezes, taking in the sight before him with a surprised click of his tongue.

"Holy fuck," he mutters. "No panties."

He looks up at you as one cold finger runs teasingly over your center, already meeting a flood of wet warmth. "Who's this for, hmm?" he asks. "Me or him?"

"You," you respond quickly, the short word edged with a needy gasp. "All for you."

He hums. "Should be." With that, his head begins to dip down, closer to where you need him. Seemingly automatically, your hands land on the back of his shaggy head, attempting to shove him down faster.

Without even having to look, he reaches one arm out, wrapping a strong hand around your wrist. Immediately, you recognize your mistake, inspiring another rush of heat to your face… and your pussy.

"No," he says flatly. "You don't get that yet." You feel him smile as he presses an uncharacteristically soft kiss against your thigh. "That's for good girls."

You let out an embarrassingly high-pitched whine. "Sorry."

He laughs again, that same hard-edged, mean sound. "Not sorry enough, clearly." His hand loosens around your wrist, returning to your hip as his grip tightens on both sides. "I've gotta remind you who you belong to before I can make you feel good, yeah?"

He plants a longer, wetter kiss against your thigh before pulling back. Though he's freezing cold, his eyes are ablaze. "Spread."

You couldn't resist his orders if you wanted to. Luckily, that isn't an issue.

You spread your legs, allowing for him to lunge for the meat of your inner thigh while you wait for him, wet and wanting.

The combination of the cool air on your aching core and the threatening sharpness of his teeth against your skin leaves you throwing your head back, rattling the mirror ever-so-slightly.

As soon as he nips at your leg, breaking the skin for the first time, you feel the distinct venomous sting that always comes with the first bite. It runs through your veins, heady and cold, dizzying. You let out a yelp. Your fingers tangle in his hair on autopilot. Luckily, despite the earlier ordeal with you pushing his head down, he doesn't stop you this time. He knows you need something to steady yourself, — deep down, he's probably happy it's him rather than the sink.

Just as soon as his fangs have pierced the first two holes, he moves on higher up your leg to create another. You know what he's doing. He won't go too deep on a single bite, — he'll save that for when you're at home, and he needs to feed. This is a separate thing entirely.

Small, pinprick bites come to decorate your inner thighs, one after another. With each small puncture of his fangs, small amounts of venom come to rest beneath the skin, slowly washing your body with the euphoric sensation of pure need.

Simply put, he's infiltrating your brain, rendering you chemically dependent on him, as though he were some sort of drug. It's horrible and romantic all at once, and you swear you wouldn't have it any other way if you could. Long before he first sunk his teeth into your skin, you wanted him. And now, you have him, for however long forever is for you. For his sake, you hope it's a long, long time.

You look down at him now. Eyes growing heavy from the venom's intoxicating effects, you lazily brush his hair back from his eyes before running your hands over his scalp.

It doesn't escape you that he tenses slightly at your touch. Your heart sinks. You know how he is with displays of affection from you. Unless he initiates first, he vehemently believes that he doesn't deserve your tenderness. After all, in his own eyes, he is nothing more than a monster, literally draining you of life. His sense of guilt eats you up inside, especially considering that there's nothing you can do to remedy it.

You see the way that he's looking at you now as he continues to decorate your upper thigh in small marks. There's this look in his eyes that makes you think of how he must have looked walking home from that bar nearly thirty years ago, unaware that his mortal life as he knew it would come to an end in a dark alley at the hands of some ravenous beast. Despite the fact that he's still biting you, he looks… scared. All you can see in his eyes is the lost young man that he once was. The lost young man who should be well into his fifties now, but is stuck in a twenty-something's body, depending on your blood to keep him alive.

Perhaps it's the venom pumping through you, increasing your connection, or maybe the few drinks that you've already had, or just the fact that he looks pretty and sad and you really want him to eat you out. Whatever the case, you feel like you should be doing something other than this. Something to make him feel better.

Before you can consider other, potentially better options, you find your fingers tangling in his hair and pulling as his name breaks up from your throat. "Trey," you whimper quietly.

He groans against your skin, tongue flattening over the freshest bite. You let out a high-pitched cry, tugging at his hair again. "Trey," you repeat. "Come on, please…"

His bites trail upwards, closer and closer to where you need him. Each one comes with a small rush of simultaneous pain and pleasure, so fucking addictive.

Whether or not he was really worried about the bartender, he's got you right where he wants you now. All you can think about is him. His name is the only one passing your lips, his venom lacing your blood, his mouth so close to where you need it…

"Trey," you repeat, sounding something like a broken record as you close your eyes and lean back against the mirror. "Please, please, please…"

You gasp, hand flying up to cover your mouth as sudden, harsh pain rips through you. Like an electric shock, it starts in your leg and jolts the rest of your body, inspiring a muffled scream. You feel Trey pull back, just before you hear him curse.

"Shit."

When you look down, he's rising up from the floor, desperately reaching for the paper towel dispenser. He rips a few off before kneeling in front of you again. Wide-eyed, you look down at his blood-smeared face as he begins to press against the fresh wound on your leg.

"I'm so sorry," he says as he presses down harder, inspiring a sharp hiss from you. "Fuck…"

He pulls the paper towel back and actually growls. Once you get a good look at it, you understand why.

Blood pours from the punctures his fangs have left in your skin. In comparison to the other marks, this one is much deeper, the sort of bite that he leaves behind when he feeds. By the looks and feel of it, the blood is flowing at a similar rate, too.

You watch Trey's face as he takes in the sight. You can see his mental struggle, — trying to decide whether to give into his instinct and latch on or just keep applying pressure.

"It's okay," you tell him. "You can…"

He shakes his head before you can even finish your sentence. "No," he says, standing up to grab another paper towel. He swipes it across his face, rubbing the blood off. "That'll just make it flow faster, and I don't want you passing out on me. Not here, at least." He tosses the towel into the trash can before reaching for your waist again, placing you back on the floor. "C'mon. I'm taking you home."

As soon as your feet hit the floor, you feel yourself growing slightly woozy. You lean against him with a soft whimper, eyes squeezing closed.

"No, no, sweetheart. Stay with me." You feel a cold hand gently pat your face, inspiring your eyes to flutter back open and focus on him. He smiles, faint remnants of blood marking his sharp teeth. "That's my girl."

You smile back weakly as a strong arm wraps around your waist, pulling you into his side. "Just lean against me," he encourages you. "I've got you, yeah?"

You hum a weak agreement as you head towards the bathroom door.

Luckily, the two of you had already paid your tab before you snuck off. All that's left is to make your way through the sea of people and out the door before he takes you back to your apartment.

"Move slow," he urges you. "Hey… Watch your breathing, baby. There you go."

You didn't notice before now that your breathing was coming fast. The mixture of venom, blood loss, and anxiety has you reeling, leaving you out of touch with your own body.

Luckily for you, Trey knows. Even if he was the one who just accidentally left an open wound on your thigh, you trust that he won't let anything happen to you. He's aware of your vitals, — how you feel, how much you can take, — without you even having to tell him. Even if it takes him all night to walk you home, he'll make the sacrifice. He takes care of you like that.

Now, he's squeezing your shoulder, leading you towards the door as he guides your breathing. "In and out, okay? Slow." The two of you step out of the bar and into the night. Luckily, it's relatively cool outside, not allowing for the weather to worsen your lightheaded state. "Talk to me when you can handle it, alright?"

You inhale the cool night's air before speaking. "I'm scared people are staring."

He shrugs. "If they stare, they stare." He nudges you gently. "They aren't gonna know," he says quietly. "Far as they know, you slipped and fell or something." His arm tightens around your waist. "Freak accident."

You smile weakly. "Freak accident," you echo. "Yeah."

By some miracle, you make it back to your apartment complex without incident. Before you can attempt to scale the stairs, Trey picks you up, carrying you as though you were no heavier than a grocery bag.

You lean into him with a shaky sigh. It's so strange, the way that he could accidentally kill you at any moment, yet he makes you feel so safe. You know that he would die and/or kill for you in a second. He loves you just as much as you love him, if not even more.

He stops in front of your door, delicately maneuvering past your body to pull the key from his pocket. Still, he quietly asks before sticking it in the lock: "May I come in?"

You chuckle quietly, leaning against his shoulder. "You may."

He turns the key in the lock and steps over the threshold before closing the door behind him.

He saunters over to the couch and sets you down gently. As soon as you begin settling against the cushions, he sinks to his knees in front of you.

He lets out a shaky sound akin to a sigh as he clumsily pushes your dress up around your hips, revealing the open wound on your leg once more. It's still steadily dripping blood, causing the hungry look in Trey's eyes to intensify by the millisecond.

Propping yourself up on the cushions, you offer him a murmur of encouragement. "Go ahead."

As soon as he gets his permission, he wastes no time sinking his fangs back into you.

You hiss, throwing your head back as your fingers tangle in his hair once again. Your eyes squeeze shut as the agonizing euphoria overwhelms you. His venom clouds your head, washing you in a warm, heady haze. You feel wanted and needed and loved as he takes what he needs from you, his grateful moans muffled against your raw, bleeding flesh.

He laps up the blood with a surprising amount of precision, considering his obvious state of desperation. Despite his obvious hunger, he doesn't take from you in a manner that seems greedy or ungrateful. In fact, he does quite the opposite. He tastes you as though you were the world's finest wine, appreciating every last drop. He could damn well suck you dry, here and now. And yet, he doesn't.

Instead, he pulls back, flashing you a bloodstained smile that makes your head spin even more. Through the muddled haze of your mind, you make out his words: "My beautiful girl."

His praise simply inspires a lovesick whimper from you as you absentmindedly run your fingers through his hair.

He chuckles before lowering his head again, this time to press a series of gentle kisses above the wound.

"So fucking perfect," he mutters in between kisses. "My good little pet. My girl." He stops at the hem of your skirt before hiking it up even higher. By this point, his voice is little more than a growl as his still-hungry gaze lands on your bare pussy.

He lets out a low groan. "Fuck, baby," he says. "I could fucking devour you."

You believe him in every sense of that word. Furthermore, you want him to.

"Please," you whine. "Need you so bad, Trey. Fuck."

He lets out another grumbling groan as he reaches for your ankles, pulling your legs up to rest over his shoulders. "You've got me," he assures you before diving in.

You gasp, your back instantly arching.

Every time he eats you out while you're venom-drunk, you swear you could fucking ascend. You're already so lost in him after he bites you, and then he drops down to his knees and worships you with his tongue.

That's how you think of it, — a way to thank you for being his life source, the closest thing to divinity that he can bring himself to believe in anymore.

You feel pretty close to divine yourself as his tongue laps over your clit, over and over again, inspiring the most beautifully overwhelming pleasure you think you could ever feel. Your thighs involuntarily clap around his head, keeping him trapped exactly where he is. Luckily for both of you, it isn't like he needs to be able to breathe.

Somehow, you manage to open your eyes enough to look down at him. The sight alone is enough to cause your knees to buckle and the knot in your stomach to tighten.

There's blood everywhere, — on his face, in his hair, all over your legs and surely between them, too. His eyes are heavy, clouded by his utter focus on your aching center.

His mouth moves in just the right way, his tongue hitting all the right places. It's so much, almost *too* much. The fact that you know he's reading your mind, — figuring out exactly what you want without you even having to ask, — makes it all the more intense.

Without thinking twice, you find yourself rolling your hips up against his face, only for two inhumanly strong hands to pin you down a moment later. You swear you could cry as he lifts his head, bringing the waves of pleasure to a halt for one terrible moment before his fingers take the place of his tongue. You continue to squirm as two fingers pump in and out of you, strategically curling against the spot that he knows makes you scream.

"Don't fight, sweetheart," he says, as though he honestly believes that your writhing is an attempt to get away rather than a plea for more. "You know that just makes me want it more." He laughs, a flash of red-stained fangs as he speeds up the movement of his fingers. You let out a pathetic whine, eyes fluttering as they threaten to roll back into your head.

"That feels good, huh?" He's laughing at you again. At this point, it just makes you tighten around his fingers even more. You're his. All his.

You give a weak attempt at a nod, your affirmative hum turning into a muffled moan halfway through.

Another mean chuckle. "I know it does, pet," he coos. "You fucking love it when I curl my fingers right here, don't you?"

A rush of heat washes over you, causing your pussy to tighten and your knees to get weak. You let out another, louder moan, nodding your head fervently.

"Yeah?" Clearly, he thinks your reactivity is fucking hilarious. Bastard. "That's the spot, huh? Oh, you're so tight, baby…" Without warning, he begins to move his fingers faster, managing to hit that fucking spot every single time.

You clap your hand over your mouth in an attempt to drown out the noises that you can't control at this point.

As it turns out, this is a mistake.

"Trying to be quiet, hmm? Don't wanna bother the neighbors? You're so fucking cute." He begins to lower his head again. Panic rises up within you when you realize that he's not going for the aching place between your legs, but the thigh that he hasn't already taken a chunk out of.

You pull your hand away to formulate a surely futile warning. "Trey—" Your hand returns to your mouth as his fangs pierce the plush skin, another shrill sound escaping your mouth as he goes all the way in, the venom beginning to make the burning turn a bit fuzzy. He keeps fucking you with his fingers all the while, lapping greedily at the brand new wound as your head spins.

You keep tightening around him with every thrust, threatening to tip past the point of no return. Before you can remove your hand to let out another debauched whimper of his name, he pulls away, licking up an errant droplet of blood before posing you with a warning. "Don't come yet."

With the way your stomach is currently tying itself into a knot, that request sounds quite impossible. "I can't —"

"You can hold off. I know you can." He says it with so much certainty just before he latches on to your leg again, sucking as his fingers continue their unrelenting pace and his venom continues to flood your veins.

It's all you can do not to burst into tears. You can't hold off. You can't. "Trey," you try again, though you know it's a lost cause. You're already so fucking close, clamping down around him like a vice. Even if he pulled back now, you would probably still fall apart, clenching around nothing.

But he isn't pulling away, or even slowing down. He just keeps moving his fingers, and feeding off your blood, and…

Fucking looking up at you with those icy eyes, the intensity of a killer trapped within the body of a man who loves you with all of his being.

That's enough to make the trembling in your thighs intensify. You scream into the palm of your hand, eyes squeezing closed as heat rushes between your legs, wave after wave of pleasure washing over you.

Once your shaking begins to die down, Trey pulls back from your leg with a disapproving hum. "You never listen, do you?"

You swallow hard. "I— I couldn't—"

He chuckles. "You could have. You just didn't try hard enough."

You flinch as he pulls his fingers out of you, only to roughly spread your legs further apart. He spreads you open with two fingers, collecting the wetness from your orgasm. "And now you're gonna give me another one," he says matter-of-factly before his mouth returns to your dripping core.

You gasp, squirming slightly at the overstimulation before reminding yourself to hold still. Luckily for you, the brief discomfort soon morphs into ecstasy as he gets you hurtling towards another release. God, is he good with his fucking mouth.

You go back to tugging at his hair, your head falling limp against the couch cushions. He works his mouth against your hot cunt with the same urgency as he sucks the blood from your wounds, like any bit of you could keep him alive, just because it's from you.

His words keep echoing in your head. You're gonna give me another one. Yeah, you're definitely going to, — soon, if the building warmth in your stomach is any indication. Your grip on him tightens, — as though, just for a moment, he was your prey.

You hold onto him for dear life as he keep his face buried between your bloody thighs. Scarlet drips down to stain the couch cushions, but you'll worry about that later. Your mind is a muddled mess of Oh God, right there and please don't stop, and he knows. He fucking knows what he's doing to you, and he's devoting his eternity to doing right by you in every way possible.

The waves come faster, and you know it's inevitable. He doesn't tell you to stop this time, — he just digs his fingertips into your thighs and moves his tongue faster, as though he's inviting it.

You don't bother to cover your mouth as the pleasure overtakes you, nor do you pay any mind to the fact that you're rolling your hips up into his face like an animal in heat, so desperate and greedy for him.

He stays exactly where he is until your grip relaxes and you physically push him away. When he looks up at you afterwards, he looks a little drunk himself, eyes hazy as he flashes you a lazy, self-satisfied smile.

Though you know that he knows exactly what you want, you don't hesitate to reach for him. You grab him by the face and pull him in, kissing him hungrily. The taste that floods your mouth is just as intoxicating as it is strange, — metallic and sweet with a cool undertone. Blood and cum and, underneath it all, Trey. He overwhelms your senses, his tongue in your mouth, his venom in your veins. You need him like air. No, more than air.

So you reach down, managing to undo the button and zipper on his pants without pulling away from the kiss. You wrap one leg around his hip, pushing him towards you before coming up for air.

"Need you… Inside me," you force out between heaving gasps. "Please."

He doesn't say anything in response. Instead, he tugs at one of your dress straps, hard. The harsh pull causes a seam to rip, leaving the dress unraveling around you.

You roll your eyes. "Jesus Christ. You're a fucking animal."

"Mmm-hmm." Unbothered, Trey dips his face into the crook of your neck, leaving a trail of wet, — but thus far unintrusive, — kisses. "Your fucking animal."

You can't help but giggle, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as he hovers over you, taking his sweet time focusing on your neck. "I pussy-whipped a creature of the night. Awesome."

"Mmm… I'll buy you a new one, baby." His lips stop at your collarbone before traveling back up to just below your chin. Then, he pulls away, tugging down his pants and boxers. He has the decency not to rip those.

As soon as he's able, he pulls you back close to hip, your legs tightening around his waist. His lips return to your neck. He kisses his way to the spot just below your ear. "Hold still, alright?" he whispers before inching forward, pushing inside of you all at once.

You gasp quietly, leaning forward to bury your face in his shoulder.

"Head up," Trey commands you, tilting your chin up to look at him. You let out another whine as your eyes meet his. It's already all so intense, — the feeling of him inside you, his hand still cupping your chin, the lingering effects of the venom from his earlier bites. He gives a satisfied hum, lips brushing against yours before he begins to move.

Unlike most times, he starts slow, — something you appreciate considering the amount of blood you've lost tonight. Still, needy noises seem to escape your throat with his every movement, your nails digging into the cold skin of his back. Every bit of you wants to hide your face again, partially out of embarrassment from being so damn loud, partially to be as close to him as possible, but you know he won't let that happen.

"Look at me," he orders now, surely reading your mind.

You do look at him. He is just as terrifying and beautiful as always, cold and bloodsoaked, eyes on fire. You want to lean up to kiss him, but you physically can't bring yourself to move. Every part of you feels simultaneously heavy and alight with nerves.

Trey closes the distance for you, pressing his lips hard against yours. You close your eyes, reveling in the pleasure that overwhelms you as his hips snap against yours, faster now. You vaguely register the sound of the springs on the couch creaking as he moans into your mouth.

The two of you melt into one another as though you were a single being. You are consumed by the taste of your blood in his mouth in the same way that he is consumed by the fact that you want him so bad, your thoughts flooding his mind.

You tense underneath him, crying out as he hits the same spot his fingers honed in on earlier. Of course, he takes note. You let out a string of desperate moans as he somehow manages to reach the exact right place with every thrust.

He pulls away from your lips to murmur in your ear. "You love this, don't you?" he asks, as though he doesn't already know. "You like it when I bite you until your brain turns off? Like it when I fuck you stupid?"

You let out a sob in response, your legs tightening around his waist. Yes, you think, allowing your thoughts to tell him what your mouth can't at the moment. I love it when you fuck me like this. Fucking love it when you make me go cockdumb.

He must get the message loud and clear. A low laugh rumbles in his chest, pressed against yours. "You'd let me do anything to you, wouldn't you?" he presses on.

Despite the effects of the venom weighing down your body, you manage a nod. Yes. Yes. God, yes.

"Good girl," he coos. "Would you let me bite you again? Get you real fucking wasted while I'm inside you?"

Another desperate moans passes your lips. Please. Please, Trey. Please, please, please, fucking bite me.

He groans at your mental admission. "Holy fuck, you're perfect," he says from between gritted teeth, driving into you harder and harder. "You can take it, right, baby? You always take me so fucking good…"

Another brainless nod. Anything. I'll take anything you give me.

"Mmm… Good fucking girl," he praises you. "Where do you want it, baby?" Your heart flutters as his finger stops to rest, directly next to an artery. "Right here?"

Your breath hitches. You know that he could kill you if he bit down on that area with too much reckless abandon. You also know that he will only go as far as he possibly can without threatening your life.

Contrary to what many people might believe if they saw the bloody mess you and your boyfriend have made on your couch, he values nothing more than he values your life.

Yes. Right there.

"Fuck." He gives a shaky groan just before sinking his teeth into your neck.

You scream then, neighbors be damned.

He keeps his teeth in your neck as he fucks you at a bruising pace. Equal parts pain and pleasure engulf you as your legs turn to jelly. You go limp in his jaws like a small animal being devoured by some terrible beast, succumbing to complete, helpless submission.

The pain soon fades into the background, being replaced by the pleasant numbness that comes along with his venom. You close your eyes for a moment, savoring the fresh rush of intoxicating poison as you sink into the couch cushions, letting him take as he sees fit.

He has no problem with this, letting out a satisfied grunt against your neck with every harsh thrust. One of his arms wraps around your waist, superhumanly strong, holding you up as he continues to ravage you.

Even when he's distracted by the fresh blood filling his mouth, he is precise in the way he fucks you, each snap of his hips bringing you closer to climax.

Your head spins as the feeling washes over you. You offer Trey a mental warning just before you begin to tighten around him.

So fucking close, oh my God, please…

You let out a strangled whine as his mouth leaves your neck. He leans in to whisper in your ear as he continues his steady pace. "Go ahead, baby. Cum," he encourages you as he keeps fucking you, hands gripping your hips hard enough to leave bruises. "Oh, that's it. Good girl. Fucking… Cum all over me, that's fucking it…"

You let out a series of pathetic whimpers as you tense up underneath him, only to fall apart a moment later. You whine as you cum hard around his cock, trembling beneath him as he releases your hips in favor of pinning your wrists to the wall above the couch. You swear you hear him fucking growl in your ear as he works you through your orgasm… and then afterwards.

It seems like every nerve in your body springs to life as you realize he isn't stopping. You momentarily panic at the overstimulation washing over you, causing you to dig your fingers harder into his back.

Too much, you think. Don't know if I can take it.

Not a moment after the thought crosses your mind, Trey is cooing in your ear. "You've got it, sweetheart," he assures you. "You can take more, baby. I know you can. Just cum one more time for me…"

If he says you can take it, you know that you can. You squeeze your eyes shut and cling tighter to him, bracing yourself as the overwhelming sensation slowly becomes a pleasurable one.

Soon, you find that you're approaching yet another peak. As it would seem, you aren't the only one.

"Fuuucckkk." Trey buries his face in your bloodied neck. "Gonna fucking… fill you up, holy fucking shit, you feel so good…"

You cling on tighter to him as he licks the stray scarlet droplets from your skin, digging your nails into him as you prepare to fall apart completely.

"You're mine," Trey goes on as he continues to drive into you. "All fucking mine. My girl. Mine."

You let out another lovesick whine, leaning in to kiss the corner of his mouth. All yours, you promise him, just before your fourth orgasm of the night overtakes you, causing you to melt into a trembling mess beneath him.

Trey's eyes damn near roll back as you tighten up around him. "Oh, fuck…" He goes still on top of you for a moment, only to relax as he releases inside of you with a loud, drawn-out groan. You use the opportunity to bury your face in his shoulder as you attempt to come back to earth.

After a few moments, Trey seems to relax along with you. He stays inside of you for a moment, face still buried in your neck. "Holy shit," he mutters. "You're unreal."

You laugh weakly, brushing your fingers lightly over his back. "I'm not the one who's an actual vampire," you manage, your first words as the venom haze begins to uncloud from your head.

"Hmm… Fair point." He presses a quick kiss to your lips before pulling back, eyes staring deeply into yours. His hand comes to rest on the side of your face, uncharacteristically delicate. "You okay?" he asks softly.

You nod slowly. "I am," you confirm. "Just a little… sticky."

He smiles slyly, fangs flashing.

You roll your eyes before taking on an additional comment on your condition. "I'm a little dizzy, too," you confess quietly.

Trey leans in, pressing a kiss against your cheek before pulling back with a gentle pat on your cheek. "Stay there," he orders you before pulling his boxers up and wandering off to your bedroom.

You allow your eyes to drift closed for a moment, only livening up when you feel a cold hand gently brushing against your bare leg. Your sleepy gaze wanders down to Trey as he kneels in front of the couch again, this time holding a warm washcloth. He uses it to wipe the blood away from your thighs first, then moves his attention up to the wound on your neck. Though you hiss at the initial contact, you sound find yourself leaning into his surprisingly tender touch.

"There we go." He pulls the washcloth away before pressing another gentle kiss to your lips, only pulling away when he reaches for the bottle of rubbing alcohol that he brought along.

You allow your mind to go blank as he takes care of you. This has become a familiar routine since you've been together: washcloth, antiseptic, situationally-inappropriate cutesy Band-Aid, in that order. You come back around for the last part, zoning back in for Trey's inquiry: "Hello Kitty or Snoopy?"

You grin lazily before pointing at your selection. He huffs out a chuckle as he obliges, sticking the cartoon-dotted adhesive strips over each disinfected wound with undeniably pure focus. Once he's done with that, he reaches for something else on the floor.

"Here you go," he says as he hands you a bundle of white fabric.

You melt as you unbunch it, only to find that it's his concert shirt from when he saw The Cure in the early 90s. You smile as you pull it over your head. "Thank you so much."

He waves a hand dismissively before reaching for one last object. "Can't forget the most important part."

Before you even register the sight, you know it's going to be a bar of dark chocolate. Still, you feel it's your duty to roll your eyes as you look at it.

"Your iron…" Trey chides as soon as he sees your expression.

"I know," you cut him off, beginning to tear the wrapper away from the bar.

He chuckles before reaching for your heated blanket. He retrieves the remote, kicking it up to the exact setting that you like before draping it over your lap, and, finally, climbing underneath it with you.

Even though he's ice cold, you immediately find yourself wrapping yourself around your boyfriend, letting out a contented sigh as you rest your head on his shoulder. Despite the manner in which he has been deflecting your affection all night, you finally feel him relax into your touch, looping his arm around your waist as he pulls you further into his side and presses his lips to your temple.

You hum quietly before murmuring the first thought that comes to mind. "You're cold," you comment, threading his fingers through yours.

He groans, dramatically throwing his head back. "You gotta stop doing that," he warns you.

You grin. "Stop doing what?"

"Being so fucking cute," he replies. "Makes me wanna…" He leans over, burying his face in your neck before making a dramatic snarling sound as he pretends to attack you with reckless abandon. You laugh at the grotesque display of endearment, halfheartedly shoving him away.

He settles down then, happy to simply lean against you under an especially warm blanket for a while.

Just when he starts to believe you've fallen asleep, you let out a drawn-out whine. "The couch…" you murmur, face pressed against his shoulder.

He reaches out to run gentle, reassuring circles against your back. "I'll get it tomorrow," he promises. "I swear, angel. I'll do anything you want me to do all day."

Your interest is piqued by that offer. "Anything?" you ask.��

"Anything," he confirms.

You begin to drift off as the possibilities unfold within your mind. You figure you'll start him off with a few things as unconsciousness takes over.

Wake me up with a warm drink. Clean the couch for me. Eat me out for hours upon hours. Let me do your makeup. Online window shop for a dress to replace the one you ripped.

"Alright, alright." His arm tightens around your waist as he holds you closer. You. His life source. His reason for still being here. His reason for still wanting to be here.

"Anything you want," he promises you again as your eyes grow heavy.

taglist: @nathanyoungsupremacy

#my writing #trey parker x reader #trey parker x female reader #trey parker x you #vamp!trey

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demonsonthemoon · 10 months

Text

Close Enough for Now

Fandom: Ted Lasso Pairing: Flo “Sassy” Collins & Ted Lasso Word Count: 1955 Rating: Teen Summary: Sassy told Ted she didn't want to date Ted, and that should have been the end of it. Except she couldn't stop thinking about that conversation. So she screamed into a pillow. And then she called Rebecca. Tags: Missing scene, s03ep04, canon-compliant, Aromantic Sassy Collins

Read it on AO3.

Some aromantic!Sassy for @aggressivelyarospec‘s AAW. I love an allosexual aromantic who wants to be friends with benefits. No, I’m not projecting.

“Hey, I was thinking... We have a good time together, yeah?”

“They're called simultaneous orgasms, Ted, yes.” Sassy knew she was being obtuse, of course she did. She just wasn't sure she wanted to encourage Ted down this line of conversation. Not that the man usually needed much encouraging for any kind of conversation he set his mind to.

“What I'm getting at is, uuh... Well I was just thinking, maybe... We could go on an actual date sometime, you know? You and me, together.”

“God, no.”

She could have tried to filter her knee-jerk reaction. She knew people did that. Filter themselves in order to appear nicer. She didn't think there was anything nice about leading people on with half-truths, but maybe that was just her.

“Well, I appreciate you taking the time to consider it,” Ted replied, obviously hurt by her quick response.

“Ted! We can't date.”

“Why not?!”

Once again, she probably should have thought about it for longer, as an act of kindness to Ted if anything. Was it so bad that she didn't want to lie to him? Instead of treating Ted – a grown-ass man – like a fragile crystal bird, she stated the truth clearly. “You're a mess.”

“I'm a mess?”

“Of course you are.” It wasn't such a bad thing to be. Not in the case of this man, sweet and funny, handsome and absolutely lovely to have in her bed. “I'm a mess too,” she admitted, “but I'm a mess three years further on than you, so I'm more of a... slight disarray.”

She meant that, too, in the sense that it had taken her about a year to even admit how much her divorce had affected her life. With more self-awareness had come the realisation that she couldn't imagine a long-term relationship right now that didn't end with someone being hurt. She wasn't ready to let someone in like that. To be so vulnerable. She wasn't willing to make the compromises that such a relationship required, not when she felt like she still had so much to discover about who she could be when she refused to compromise.

“More like a slight disar-ray of sunshine, if you ask me,” Ted replied, infuriatingly.

“Oh god,” Sassy sighed.

Ted immediately apologized. Earnestly. Like he really couldn't keep in all of those dreadful puns or the sweetness that seem to just drip out of him, like he was an ice-cream cone someone had shoved inside an oven. And somehow he still thought it was his fault.

“Ted. On the day my ex got re-married, I drank a bottle of red wine through a straw and told my uber driver I was in love with him. Then,” she continued as she picked up her jacket. “when he dropped me home, I puked so much my mouth was like...” She took a second to find an appropriate simile. She wasn't actively trying to disgust Ted into forgetting about her as a romantic option. She just needed him to realize how gruesome the path has been to lead to her functioning as she did today. “... an elevator from the goddamn Shining. It got my rating down to a 3.9.”

She almost let herself be distracted by Ted's fucking five stars rating, right until he admitted driving the car himself sometimes when getting an Uber.

“You are such a mess,” she couldn't help but re-affirm. She felt truly sorry for this man, for the obvious pain in his eyes at her words. But she could also much too easily imagine the suffering that would come later if she went against her nature and played nice right now.

The thing was, it wasn't that difficult to imagine a relationship with Ted. It wasn't a hardship to imagine herself staying in the morning, letting Ted order them breakfast, learning how he took his coffee. Getting late check-out again so they had time to shower after round too, brushing their teeth while sharing space in the bathroom. Making that a regular thing.

It would be easy to let herself be loved by Ted.

And then she would feel trapped, and she would try to run away, and Ted would redouble his efforts to please her and she would grow to hate him. Or maybe Ted would be the one to run, when he realised that Sassy wasn't what he wanted, or when he came to understand all that he could have by being his own person. And then the poor man would hate himself for failing her, and she would hate herself for knowing all along that this was how it would end.

Sassy wasn't always nice, but she would never be so unkind.

“I like our status. Friends with benefits, like... Natalie Portman and Ashton Kutcher.”

“Oh, no no no, I think you're thinking of 2011's other 'good friends turned casual lovers'-based rom-com. No Strings Attached. Friends with Benefits was Mila Kunis and Justin Timberlake.”

“Oh wow. 2011. Friends be fucking.” She made a face as she said that. This was Ted's territory. One where he usually felt confident and free, brilliant in his enthusiasm. But the way he was spouting rom-com facts was cold, detached, and Sassy knew it was a lost cause even as she tried. “So let's keep things 2011. Cool and breezy.”

She left him with a kiss and some encouragement and probably much to think about.

She wished he wouldn't do so much thinking sometimes. For his sake.

That should have been the end of it. Another night of good fun between the two of them, and Sassy could go back to her everyday life with the satisfaction of two nice orgasms.

Except, in totally hypocritical fashion, she couldn't stop thinking about it.

The quiet disappointment in Ted's eyes. The way she had felt so desperate to keep things as they were, to make him understand it truly was the best arrangement possible. The whole conversation kept haunting her until she felt like screaming into a pillow about it.

As soon as she got home, she did just that. It was a very healthy coping mechanism. Worked great for a lot of the kids she worked with.

And then she called Rebecca.

“It is weird that I don't want to date Ted?”

“Good afternoon to you too,” Rebecca answered drily.

Sassy knew her well enough, so she wasn't scared that Rebecca was mad at her for calling her about feelings advice (she refused to call it “relationship advice”. If it had to be something, it was “non-relationship advice”) the day after her father's funeral. She probably appreciated the distraction, as had become clear when they'd discussed Rebecca's own feelings the day before.

“I'm serious, Stinky,” she whined. “Help me out, here.”

There was a few seconds of silence on the other line, probably the time it took Rebecca to weigh her words.

“Well, Ted is a really nice man.” Sassy rolled her eyes, because duh. “And you certainly do seem to enjoy spending time with him.” She groaned dramatically at that. She could tell from her voice that Rebecca was enjoying herself. “Still, that doesn't mean you have to date him if you don't want to.”

“I don't. Want to,” Sassy specified. “I really don't. And I gave him a whole speech about why, but now I'm not exactly sure if that speech holds up.”

“Oh god. He asked you out?”

“Yeah,” Sassy replied with a put-upon sigh. “Of course he did. You've met the man. He practically radiates healthy family values. Of course he would ask me out at some point.”

“I guess I see what you mean. So, what was the reason you gave him for turning him down?”

“I told him he was a mess.” Rebecca sputtered on the other end of the line, so Sassy just kept going. “It's true! It's true, okay? It doesn't mean it's bad. I'm a mess too. I told him that, literally. But he just got divorced and he's trying to find his balance in his new life, and if we start dating he's just gonna use me as a crutch to not do that work, and then one of us will realize we're actually really unhappy in this relationship, and we'll have to start the process of rebuilding ourselves from scratch once again.”

“That does sound like a hassle.”

“Thank you!” Sassy exclaimed. She was fully aware that Rebecca had been sarcastic in the last comment, but she wasn't about to let the other woman get one over her.

“Do you not think you might be projecting some of your anxieties onto Ted?” Rebecca asked diplomatically.

Sassy snorted. “Why do you think I called you, Stinky?”

Rebecca hummed in agreement.

As she waited for her friend, Sassy paced around her apartment. It had felt empty, at first, whenever Nora wasn't here. Nowadays, Sassy enjoyed the opportunity to pace, to leave things lying around and know it wouldn't bother anyone but herself.

“Do you think he deserves it?” Rebecca finally asked, catching Sassy off-guard.

“Mmh?”

“Ted. Do you think he deserves a romantic relationship?”

Sassy floundered. “Yes. I mean, of course, if he wants one. It's not about deserving-”

“What about you? Do you deserve one?”

“I don't want a romantic relationship, Stinky. I don't want to date Ted. I don't want to date anyone.”

“Ah. So this conversation isn't about Ted at all.”

Sassy groaned as she dropped herself onto her couch “It just- it just seems so tedious. I'm already raising a child. I don't want to raise a grown man on top.”

“You've got your hands pretty full with just yourself.”

Sassy let out an offended gasp that quickly turned into a chuckle.

“It doesn't have to be like that, you know. A relationship.

“I know.”

Sassy thought of Darren, her ex-husband. It hadn't always been terrible. There had been comfort to be found in someone knowing you so well. In sharing a life with someone.

Although, now that she'd reconnected with her best friend, Sassy found that Rebecca and Nora were just as good at making her feel this way as Darren had been. And there was a sense of freedom to her life she had only recently allowed herself to explore. It hadn't been there during her marriage.

Yes, she'd been devastated when Darren had started dating again. But not because she'd wanted Darren back. She'd just felt like a failure, re-building her life but never managing to make it complete again. Never managing to find love or even try to.

“But you don't have to want it either,” Rebecca added. “You don't owe anyone anything, Flo Collins. Not anymore. So just follow your heart on this one. Or your cunt, if your heart's not in it.”

“Stinky!”

They both laughed and, yes, there was that lightness. There was the freedom.

“Ted will get over it, eventually,” Rebecca stated as their giggles died down.

“Yeah. He will. It wouldn't have worked anyway. I'm not into the business of filling the holes in other people's lives.”

“Please don't make me contemplate anymore holes being filled while we're discussing my colleague,” Rebecca responded, to Sassy's delight and cackle.

“No promises. He's a great lay even with the sad puppy eyes.”

“Okay, I'm going to hang up now.”

“Thanks, Stinky.” She didn't add a sorry about your dad or sorry about your mom. Not even a sorry about bothering you. These kinds of words were nothing that Rebecca needed.

“You know it,” the other woman said before hanging up.

Sassy stared at her ceiling for a moment, suddenly drained of all energy. She tried to picture the life she wanted, and the life she had.

…

Close enough for now.

#AggressivelyArospecWeek #AAW23 #Meeni writes fics #Ted Lasso #Sassy Collins #Fanfic

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unholyhelbig · 2 years

Text

Crescent 8/? | Natasha Romanoff x Moonknight!Reader

Summary: When Natasha Romanoff takes a job as head of security for Dina Jackson she has an ulterior motive- to find the tomb of Egyptian artifacts that the art world is racing for. Dina’s disgraced niece is charming, awkward, and under the influence of Khonsu, the God of the Moon.

Warnings: Not so subtle Violence, throat injury, trauma, and also really bad grammar.

[A/N: Sorry about the delay, folks. I got Ronance brain rot.]

Masterlist | Request a Prompt | Join my Taglist

You were quickly deemed to be a non-threat by the Black Widows standards, and it wasn’t quite the morale booster you were hoping for. Though, standing in the shower under scalding water did something to wake up your bones, making you forget about the thinly veiled insult to your capability.

The feeling of her lips against yours still seemed like a dream, a mirage that’s brought on by the heat of a dessert. You swallowed a couple breaths of steam, the glass walls fogging up enough for your steadying handprints to drip like freshly drawn blood. Non-threats got to go to their own apartments to talk to their bird-God masters about a game plan. Non-threats still had to wear the bracelets of blue that didn’t dampen your powers as much as you’d hoped.

Khonsu sat on the toilet and regarded it as a throne. He had picked up one of the magazines you’d situated for reading material, using his boney fingers to flip the page and huff at whatever gossip he found interesting, much like Yelena.

He had called you a worm for the first three months of your partnership. It wasn’t until you took a lashing from a group of Russian men in maroon tracksuits that you had gained his respect. There was no ability to fight back, but he seemed impressed by your tendency to get back up. You spit blood onto the sidewalk, clenched broken ribs, and took another fist to the face. Over and over again until he put a stop to it. He thought you to fight, to wield the weapons you were given.

You cannot be in love with her.

“I didn’t say that.” You pressed your forehead against the cool tile, closing your eyes against the scalding stream of water. “I said I want to see where it goes. I can’t do that if you command me to kill her.”

You’ve never questioned my authority before. It’s interesting.

“I’ve never gotten a chance like this before.”

And you hadn’t. Not really. There were girlfriends in high school, but everything was so new. You’d met Taylor French in debate club and figured out what all the puns regarding her name were about. You’d lost your virginity next to a tackle box in Jackson Simmons pickup truck. None of those felt like anything. Not like this simple kiss had.

You turned off the stream of water and took the red towel that he passed to you through the cracked glass, goosebumps where the cold water hit you. “I don’t see what killing Natasha will accomplish. Dina has the scarab. She’ll lead us to the tomb.”

A test of loyalty. I need to make sure you regard me, as always. Especially after that stunt she pulled, inhibiting our connection.

You stepped into the foggy bathroom “I’ll regard you. I regard you. Have you ever been infatuated with anyone?”

Khonsu furrowed his bony brow at the magazine in his hands and was quiet for a long moment. You walked to the sink with caution, worried that you had overstepped a boundary. But then again, he was sitting with you while you showered. There was something vulnerable about that that almost friends shared.

No.

The answer was simple and so softly spoken that you nearly didn’t’ hear it over the sound of your own heart pounding in your chest. He flickered out then, the magazine falling to the steam-soaked bathmat, pages curling in moisture.

You were still wracked with exhaustion and settled on taking the subway to your aunt’s penthouse. You had been summoned by a short text that dropped to the pit of your stomach. Your mother and her effortless way of cushioning the blow were in Jersey for a girl’s weekend.

There was no specificity to the text, nor was this the usual night you gathered for dinner. By the time the elevator reached the top of the stairs, you could taste metal. The scent of merlot and burning chestnut logs hit the back of your throat. You suppressed a cough. Instead, rounding the corner tentatively, like a child.

Chip spotted you first and smiled warmly at you with his general easiness. Dina was standing at the mantel place, one sip of bourbon souring in her glass. Her green eyes flashed towards you. Even as she lingered in her own home, she wore statement jewelry and crocodile print pants.

“I trust you’re feeling better.” She said.

“Much, thank you.” You swallowed the thick taste in your mouth. “Natalie got the scarab to you?”

Her eyes hardened. With a guttural scream, she hurled the crystal glass into the wall behind you. It shattered into a million pieces, the noise was loud, shards and alcohol sprayed against your arms. You’d instinctively covered your stare, lowering your arms wildly.

Your voice broke “What the hell?”

“The scarab. Where is it?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“She’s given me a fake.” Dina rushed towards you, grasping at your collar feverishly. You shoved her hands away and took a giant step back, putting your hands out as if calming a wild animal. “It was a damned good fake, but not good enough to fool me.”

“My sweet, maybe we should take a lenient approach?” Chip took a long gulp of his own drink, rising a grey eyebrow.

“I’ve been lenient enough.”

Dina turned and picked up the iron fire poker from the flames. The tip glowed a sharp orange, pulsing like a living breathing thing. She closed the distance between the both of you, her fake nails pushing into your shoulder.

Now would be a fantastic time for Natasha to magically show up with the little fob that unlocked your bracelets. You’d been diligent about hiding your secret from your family, from Dina. But desperate times made you well, desperate. The tip of the heated poker was hovering above a weak spot on your throat.

“I don’t think you understand what fire you’re playing with here, Y/n.” She spits, breath acrid “Tell me where Natalie and the Scarab are.”

You let out a wet laugh “I don’t know where your damned scarab is.”

When the edge of the metal hit your skin, it hissed. You let out a scream as she pushed in, the scent of burnt flesh filling your lungs. Chip stood from his seat and Dina’s eyes flashed a moment of regret at her own actions before she pulled back. You gulped in air.

“So much is on the line. If you think I’m above killing you to get what I want, you’re mistaken.”

“Is that any way to treat family?”

“Family?” She went slack as if the word had stung her “Family? You’re kidding! There is not a single part of me that considers you anything more than a… than a worm.”

When you swallowed back the sour taste in your mouth, your skin hit the burning edge of the fire poker once more. This time, you didn’t flinch. You expected the pain, some part of you even welcomed it. It gave the tears in your eyes a direction, like a bad play.

“If you kill me,” You rasped “Then you’ll never get what you want. You’ll rot in a cell. Is that worth it?”

Dina blinked at you. She was angry, at first, she was seething. But then the realization of what she had done seeped into her bones, and made her shoulders drop. You pushed her away and pressed your hand to the bloodied burn on the side of your neck. Chip was there with a dishtowel soaked in cold water. You shoved that away too, taking a few steps back.

“I’ll find her.” Dina let the metal rod fall with a clang. “I’ve used the last of my mercy with you, Y/n.”

“Search the desert until you strike gold.” Your voice hard. It hurt to talk. “Die trying, for all I care.”

You waited until you were past Bennet the doorman to let your tears fall. There were cameras in the elevator and the lobby. All of which Dina and Chip had access to. Each conversation you’d had with her in the past few years made you feel like a child again. Scolded and corrected, and so very afraid of what she would do next.

It felt suffocating, wearing these bracelets, the constant back and forth between feelings. It was all overwhelming- scary. You did the only thing you could think of on your way home as a slough of cold rain fell from the sky. You called Natasha.

To your surprise, she wasted no time getting to your apartment. The two of you lived in the same neighborhood, right by the art gallery that had been collecting dust for the past two weeks as you played your aunt’s game.

You swallowed two cups of whiskey without ice, the warm flavor burning your stomach. By the time she knocked on the door, you had worked yourself up to a nice buzz, forgetting the burn against your throat, wishing you could forget the woman who had given it to you.

Natasha let out a disapproving grunt, clad in a pair of sweatpants and a black shirt. Her hair was still damp from the rain, the scent of lavender filling your lungs

“malen'kaya luna” she said, her voice low as she pushed her way into your apartment. “What have you done?”

You sighed into her touch; her fingers cold against the side of your face. It was soothing, your cheeks inflamed. You were suddenly self-conscious. Why had you called her? There was a kiss shared, and a lot of flirtatious banter but this felt more intimate somehow. She was in your apartment. You had been crying. You had no one else to call.

The rain was falling hard now. The billboard from across the street was enough to illuminate the whole apartment. Sheeted water made you feel like you were in a fishbowl. The sound matched up with your heartbeat.

Natasha leads you to the sofa, and you obediently allowed her to do so. “First Aid kit?”

“I don’t have one.”

“What do you mean you don’t have one?”

She knelt in front of you between your legs. One hand was on your thigh. The other was on the upholstery. Your throat throbbed. Your head throbbed. You hadn’t been sure about blood loss, but you knew there was some. Your collar was sticking to your warm skin.

“Haven’t gotten hurt for a long time.” Your eyes hardened. Your fingers subconsciously moving to your neck. Natasha grasped them before they made contact. She squeezed hard. “Dina.”

“Dina did this?”

You didn’t answer, instead, you swallowed the metal taste in your mouth. Natasha stood, patted her pockets, and grabbed the small fob. You kept your stare on the way the water reflected on the dark hardwood floor. When the cuffs fell from your wrists, you didn’t’ register it at first. Not until the wound against your throat had healed. It didn’t’ take long. It never did.

You had been back in the hospital room for a moment- hooked up to machines. Watching yourself struggle to breathe. Your chest barely rose and barely fell. Machines beeped in time with the world moving on from the rich kid taking a slug to the stomach, to the shoulder. Brain swelling and fractured everything.

“Hey,” Natasha had her hand on your cheek again, and was kneeling in front of you. “I know that look. I get that look. Come back to me, alright? You’re going to be fine. You’ve healed up well. Can you tell me what happened?”

Despite the leveled stare she gave you, you stood and made your way back over to the cabinet of liquor. You poured two glasses of whiskey. Handing her one. Your own fingers clasped around the crystal. If you didn’t have that hold, they’d be trembling. You hated how it dulled your senses, how it had probably dulled Dina’s too.

“You told me you used to collect fireflies.”

Natasha nodded. The billboard changed to its next ad, a blinding purple light. The rain skewed it, and shaded her stoic features still etched with worry. She took a swallow of whiskey.

“Dina and I used to collect moths. She believed that the moth symbolized change. That when you die one would carry you into your next life. The pattern and size of your moth depend on the life you lead.”

Natasha put her hand on the small of your back, her touch warm, steadying. She was holding you up better than your feet. You watched as water dripped in sheets against the windows.

“When I got attacked, I screamed for hours before I realized that no one could hear me, that everything was in my head. That I just had to be patient, had to listen and wait for them to realize that the only thing they could do for me would be to practice mercy. To shut off the machines.

“My mother was too stubborn, and my aunt… my aunt would sit by my bedside every day and beg for me to gain consciousness. I could feel her squeezing my hand, could hear her through her tears. She wanted me to wake, but only for a moment. She whispered about a moth never showing to take me to the next life if she was suffering in this one because of my… my weakness.”

You hadn’t realized that you were crying until Nat’s cold touch wiped the tears from your cheeks. She held your face; let you fall into the crook of her neck and sob. She didn’t’ say anything, instead, she listened to the way the rain fell.

Exhaustion plagued your body with each passing minute, each cycle of advertisements on the lit billboard across the way. Any reservations about showing Natasha your home, your bedroom, were washed away in the gutters with the rain.

Over the years, you had built a wall around the soft parts of yourself. The one thing you could control was how much information you gave, what you kept, and who you were. There was no explanation of why Natasha made you feel so safe. She was the enemy; a trained assassin with a dripping ledger who fought against your endgame.

Yet, as she lay down and open her arms up for an embrace you didn’t know you craved so strongly, you couldn’t see any of that. You breathed in her earthy, water-worn scent. You listened to her heartbeat which was stronger than yours. You fisted the fabric of her shirt, nose flush against her neck. She rubbed small circles against your back.

“You have a moth, malen'kaya luna.” Natasha spoke so softly. If your ear hadn’t been pressed to her throat, the words would have been lost in the falling rain. “This happened for a reason. Maybe it just wasn’t your time to release it from its strawberry-scented jar yet.”

For the first time in a long time, you drifted into a comfortable sleep, one where your shoulder didn’t’ ache, where the nightmares didn’t rush through your mind. There was simply nothing but the sweet scent of summer berries and Natasha Romanoff.

Taglist 🌙: @littlebluestone @bxrbiewrites @almaperegrinespipe @justyourwritter69 @maddess @jasminebelding @fayhar @i-need-somebody-else @sapphic-girl @pianogirl2121 @strangegardentaco @ohmy-godyes @kacka84 @143bc @lenam07 @tforjtap @iwishforausername @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @honeymoonbbie

#Natasha Romanoff #Natasha Romanoff x reader #Natasha Romanoff x Moonknight!Reader #Moonkight!Reader #Moonknight #Black widow x reader #Black Widow

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autisticempathydaemon · 1 year

Note

Hello hello, thank you for doing these match ups for us! Never done one of these before so I'm excited to see who I'll end up with. 💕

- What song are you fixated on at the moment? What lyric or verse, and why?

Great Wide Unknown by Pealeaf. Technically, I love the lyrics in their entirety but especially this: 'There are things we'll never know

Wish I could find a way to live like this forever

But there's a burning in my soul

And these days, it burns brighter than ever'.

As well as

'These stars were never mine to chase

I'll chase them anyway

Take me to a land far away

This path was never mine to take

Was my fate set in stone

Or just one thread in the great wide unknown'

Because after years of not getting anywhere in my life, I'm finally moving forward.

- Enneagram/Mbti:

The Loyalist, INFJ-T

- Do you love gargantuan Youtube video essays, and if so, which is your favorite and why?

Does currently watching Hardcore Singular Type Pokemon Nuzlockes count? If not, then I enjoy essay videos on revitalizing abandoned landscapes.

- What is your go-to way to fall asleep?

Laying on my side. Sometimes, I put on a yt video.

- If you had to change your name, what would it be, and why?

If I had to, I'd choose Inga, cause that's what my mom would have named me (it was dad's turn for me :p ) and I think it's a cute name.

- What is your favorite of Redacted’s audios, and why?

Torn between 'caught stealing your alpha werewolf boyfriend's hoodie' and 'your yandere friend wants to be closer to you'. For the former, I love the sweet vulnerability and the casual touches, the relaxation and bone deep love. For the latter, the way Blake helps the listener fall asleep works so well for me, him humming softly at the end... and I love manipulative/gaslighting characters. :')

- What Redacted boy holds no appeal to you, and why? Like, not the one you hate but the one who you don’t get the hype for.

Eeeh. Aaron, I suppose?

- Tell me about that one book/movie/tv show you know all the words to.

Lord of the Rings (Movie Edition). Especially Return of the King.

- Which Redacted boy are you platonically attracted to? Like- forget dating, which dude do you want to be your best friend?

Asher. Sorry, David, I hope you can share. Or Huxley. He's the actual sweetest dude who deserves the world and then some.

- Do you have a go-to thing you ramble about when you’re tired, and if so, what is it?

No, I just get grumpy when I'm tired.

- Tell me your go-to gas station and drink combo.

Eeh. Salty Pringles and a cola/orange fanta combo drink.

- Tell me about your favorite playlist at the moment.

Freelancer season 1 and Fallen Empathy Daemon. Yes, I am unable to decide once more. Outside of that, my Favorite Video Game Music playlist featuring mostly calm bgms and the occasional boss theme.

What’s your guilty pleasure media, and why?

Any type of dating game with yandere characters. I like the psychological horror aspects as well as the devotion. Is that kind of relationship toxic irl? Hell yeah it is. Do I still love games about the topic? You bet I do. Also, farming simulator games like Stardew Valley or Rune Factory.

Anything else?

Perfectionist (but slowly letting go of that), late-bloomer, creative. Whenever I have a moment, I get lost in my head, thinking up scenarios or plot for a new fanfic I'll never write. A cuddlebug but I feel more comfortable initiating and I prefer it if people ask before they touch me. I work with kids and I genuinely love my job despite the mental and physical exhaustion. I've got a very dry sense of humor and I actually love silly puns and humor.

Hope you have a good day!! ♥️

I know Fred and Bright, like, aren’t actual children (I imagine them as no older than twenty but still), but they’re basically Sam’s kids, and I just think he would more than appreciate a partner who likes kids and wouldn’t mind dating a single dad /hj

Something I think works well between Sixes and Eights (which is what I strongly hc Sam to be) is that both of you can be so… I don’t want to say guarded but careful with trust and intimacy. That shit has to be earned, and when you do get to know one another, you’ll learn how well-matched you are. Sixes are fueled by the desire to have security and stability, and Eights are fueled by the desire to lead and protect. Fundamentally, you are uniquely situated to be everything the other needs.

I also think Sam would be the perfect cuddle partner for you. Ever since that second video where he politely asks permission to lay hands, even in an emergency, we’ve known for sure he’s so careful about consent and boundaries. I can easily imagine the two of you settling down for a LOTR movie and him waiting with open arms for you to reach out at your pace and comfort level. (Gosh, wouldn’t that be so cute, you showing him the trilogy for the first time and excitedly telling him about how Viggo Mortenson broke his ankle?)

Song:

But here's a map, here's a shovel/ Here's my Achilles' heel/ I'm all in, palms out/ I'm at your mercy now and I'm ready to begin/ I am strong, I am strong, I am strong enough to let you in

Thank the lord for you, I have been waiting for someone I can match with Sam because this is my Sam song; I think of him every time I hear it. In my head, this is his internal monologue as he confesses. He’s lived such a long life of being hurt and protecting himself from more; trusting you enough to let you in, to not hurt him more, to acknowledge that risk is the greatest act of love of which he is capable.

Runner-Ups:

Milo’s a really cute possibility, because Sweetheart also strikes me as a recovering perfectionist, so I think he’d be a really supportive partner in that respect. “Who’s expectin ya to do all of that? It certainly ain’t me and damn sure shouldn’t be you.” is something I can hear him saying in his voice, if that makes sense. Also, I see your love of yanderes, hence Flyboi!Ivan. I ain’t pairing you with someone who got all them tendencies, because I love you, but we can have a little of that, the potential of the crazy as a treat /affectionate

Note: unrelated but bruh how you feelin after that Balance season finale because wowee Blake

Want a match-up of your own? Read this post, and tell me about yourself! 💌

#redactedasmr #redactedverse #redacted asmr #redactedaudio #redacted audio #redacted #busybee matches

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anisecandy · 1 year

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Spidervenom:2-5-30

I’ve gotten this ask after I already went to bed yesterday, but let’s have fun with it now!

Spidervenom

2. What would they do if the other woke in a manic state after a nightmare?

♣ The Other doesn’t seem to sleep, so it fortunately doesn’t have nightmares... Alright, sorry, lame pun. So, what would the Other do, to help its partners after night terrors? Its first instinct would be very protective, it would immediately wrap itself around the scared person and convey to them that it would never ever let anyone harm them. It would growl a little, angry at anything that would bring harm to its partners - even if it’s just nightmares! - but then would try to soothe the person. With Eddie it would speak to him through their bond a little, but it would still rather focus on pushing positive and calming feelings toward his mind. If the one waking from a nightmare would be Peter, though, it would wake up Eddie and have him do the talking for itself, while it would try to comfort Peter with hugs and little licks. It would also purr and chatter at them in a soothing manner.

♣ Eddie knows a thing or two about nightmares, he’s had a fair share of traumatic experiences throughout his life, at times being even experimented on due to being a symbiote host. If Peter woke up screaming, he would do his best to make sure he feels safe. “It was just a dream. It’s okay, we’ve got you.” This would be one of rather rare situations when he would be extremely gentle with Peter, calling him “love” and always checking with him if he’s fine with being touched. Peter has a lot of trauma as well, after all, to some of which Venom definitely contributed. That’s why, sometimes at those moments their presence can actually make things worse - which breaks the Symbiote's heart, but of which Eddie is always very respectful. Even if they leave Peter alone, Eddie will come to check on him a few times during the night, usually with an excuse of bringing him something warm to drink to calm down his nerves, a snack, an extra blanket... Once Peter would feel better, they would be back by his side, assuring that they won’t ever hurt him again - or let anyone else do it.

♣ Peter isn’t surprised the first time he sees Eddie have nightmares. What does surprise him though, is the sheer frequency of them. Somehow, it never really occurred to him how much Eddie has been through, or at least, it never really registered with him. Their past was really rocky and while they are in a better place now, it still can be hard for Peter to look back and see Eddie before they stopped being on hostile terms as, well... human. Peter wants to help, but usually he doesn’t really know how and the fact that Eddie prefers to keep to himself and doesn’t like being vulnerable makes the matter worse... It takes them some time until Eddie feels comfortable discussing his nightmares, and Peter stops feeling guilty after witnessing them (because he always knew that Eddie is mentally unwell, but never considered what this means beyond like... the obvious kill Spider-man routine). Usually he would default to physical affection, taking Eddie into an embrace and running fingers through his hair until he would be able to fall back asleep.

5. Describe their cozy night in.

♣ Although he only started to watch it ironically, after less than a week Peter was completely hooked on the medical drama the Symbiote tuned in to every Friday afternoon. With Eddie half spreaded over the couch, half over his laps, and a bowl of popcorn, he joins it now every time, correcting sometimes questionable science and arguing about the endgame couples. The only days the drama is watched in relative silence are those, when Eddie brings with himself to the living room a laptop, to work on some personal writing project of his. Sometimes he likes the white noise of the tv and since he can’t escape the drama screening anyway, he might as well get some work done. If asked, he’d say that he hates the repetitive soap opera, still the truth is that Fridays are actually his favorite day of the week... Even if he couldn’t care less for the medical drama.

30. Your OTP gets to pick out each other’s outfits; what is each wearing?

Remember my Halloween Spidervenom comic...?

♣ ...following its events, Peter’s eyes got opened to the world of opportunities that is the symbiote-suit-cosplay. Would he be successful in making Eddie wear cute clothes like that maid outfit often...? No, not really, but on special occasions he would give in - Peter’s birthdays for example. Sometimes this could also be a result of a lost bet... Either way, Peter would have prepared a whole wardrobe of ideas for your classic roleplaying outfits. Nurse uniforms, the stripper variations of policeman outfits and yes! even the sexy nun!! (although this one is mostly a joke). Not to mention a lot of frilly lingeries. He likes those perhaps the best.

♣ Eddie has Peter wear the classic business woman jacket-midi-heels combo. If you’d ask him, that’s a fairly deserved payback. In reality though, you don’t have to dig deep to realize that this is hardly the only reason. He has an obvious thing for authoritative women, if there are any true girl-bosses believers left - that’s Eddie. With his more lean frame, Peter doesn’t look half bad crossdressing too, plus as we all know, he’s a performer at heart. Playing into the role of an assertive lady in a position of power, once he realizes what’s up, might not have been the greatest show he put up, but even with the moments of awkwardness Eddie absolutely loved it. Is this going to become a regular thing...? Maybe if Eddie agrees to put on this black corset and stockings more often.

#spidervenom #spideyvenom #eddie brock #venom #peter parker #spider-man #venom symbiote #ask game #otp scenarios

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myrddin-wylt · 1 year

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What the hell is anon going on about? We don't even own these characters like...

And like you said, we're drawing from the same source material so we're bound to come up with similar if not the exact same headcanons.

Also, the whole nations dying headcanons has been done to death (pun not intended). Which isn't a bad thing, it just means there are not really any original takes on the subject. And you want me to go all the way back to like 2012, possibly farther to credit the original person to say nations can grow their limbs back? Who's to say the one anon considers the "original poster" of the headcanon didn't take it from someone else, who took it from someone else, who took it from someone else and so on.

Also also, sometimes others headcanons will influence me without realizing it. But often times in the mix they become my own/I don't remember where I first heard the headcanon.

Sorry, this just got me heated 😅. Like I can't explain it. Headcanons are kind of different than art and fanfic. I don't think they need to be as harshly protected as anon is making it out to be.

When I see someone with the same headcanons as me I don't immediately think they stole my idea, I just go "Hey you're very smart 🤝"

at this point I've gone on too much but I wanted to respond to you so: it's very annoying for a few reasons but like. as an aside. there's a reason people are entitled to their work and the form it takes and the effort put into it but they are not entitled to their general ideas, especially not when drawing on the same material. and I think a lot of the irritation is because we've likely all had to tell ourselves that exact thing, because there's nothing quite so annoying as realizing you aren't as uniquely creative as you thought.

idk man I just wanted to talk about Vampyr crossover so I started with nation biology. like Arthur has to have a vampire for a doctor because no human in the world could get him to admit that he does, in fact, feel pain. and not only that, but he's vulnerable in several ways due to historical injuries that he sustained because he was 'too weak' to avoid them or heal from them or whatever. and Arthur won't admit important shit like that because that's his actual canon characterization, so most of the time Jonathan has to use his blood sense and manipulation skills but he does that fairly easily because the game revolves around the player being able to pick all the exact right dialogue options and be a total manipulative bastard until you can figure out what these people are suffering from because they literally will not just tell you even if Jonathan is their literal doctor.

this includes characters like Thomas Elwood, who sustained serious burn injuries during his time fighting in France in WW1 and who has physically healed but still feels immense pain because he has a psychosomatic condition, and the only way you can unlock the hints for his character is to figure all that out yourself without saying the wrong thing because the game runs on an autosave feature so you can't go back and fix mistakes and the characters WILL clam up if you say something wrong. there's also, hold on, Harvey Fiddick who fucked up his hand and needs surgery but the doctors keep fighting over what procedure to do and they aren't sure if he'll ever actually get full use of his arm back anyway because sometimes injuries heal wrong or never fully heal at all. like the only thing that makes Arthur different from any of them is that he has historical flavor.

like I'm really trying to emphasize the degree to which I've been thinking about nations having old injuries despite their healing abilities and how their biology differs from humans. also I'm stalling because I keep getting my ass kicked by this goddamn sewer beast. also I'm trying to get other people to try this game because I love it. ALL THAT ASIDE--

#ask #koolkat9

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dearestones · 2 years

Text

Marble Hornets Matchup: Tim Wright

Warnings: Fluff.

@stinkylittleanon Request: Yooo, hi hi! I saw that you like MH and matchups are open, so is it OK if I ask for a romantic Marble Hornets matchup? I don't have a preference for gender! My name is Toby, I'm a trans dude and I've got wavy blonde hair and gray eyes! My pfp kinda resembles me. I'd say my better traits are kind, understanding, funny, listener, and patient, but my negative traits would have to be timid, oblivious, fearful, and a bit too positive. My hobbies are cosplaying, video games, and sleeping! I have an interest in creepy things but also cute! I do have autism, adhd, and depression so I guess that's important to mention! I have no idea how many words this is so I'm sorry if it's over 300!

After reading through the information given, I believe that you best pair with Tim Wright!

Tim has gone through a lot in his life and he loves you for who you are. He’s spent many years locked up in a mental health hospital and the majority of his twenties trying to flee from an abomination that happens to like hanging around the woods and taking control of his unsuspecting victims. Because of that, Tim needs all of the kindness and understanding that he can get.

It’ll take a long time for him to trust you with aspects of his past and even then, he might not give you the most minute of details. However, because of your tendency to listen to him without judgment, he’ll be more inclined to be open.

Furthermore, he appreciates your good humor. Please, if you have the chance, try to alleviate the tension and tell him a pun or a joke. The more dad jokes you give him, the happier that he’ll be. (Just be sure not to overdo it when he’s being especially vulnerable or if he communicates that he needs his space).

Be sure to never have a mouth full of water because when he's in the mood, he’ll have you bowled over in laughter to thank you for making him slightly happier about life.

As for your negative traits, Tim is more than understanding of your nature. Timidity and fearfulness are not always negatives—sometimes, these feelings can be the very key to your survival. After all, it was fear and paranoia that has led Tim down the life that he has chosen, which ultimately made him one of the final survivors. However, it’s fear that also drives you to improve yourself. With your permission, Tim will help you confront your fears and expand your horizons. There’s always a starting point to improve and he is more than willing to be with you during your journey.

Your positivity, however… He understands that there’s always a time and place for positivity, but he appreciates your lightheartedness more than most. He’s suffered for so long, he would appreciate a small ray of sunshine from time to time. So, while others may be miffed if you’re too positive, he’ll simply be thankful that you’re there for him.

Tim isn’t too great on the cosplaying thing, but he’ll be happy to make sure that you’re hydrated and well fed when you go visit conventions! Furthermore, he’ll also be there to take pictures, always making sure that he’s getting your best angles and coming up with good ideas on how to pose. (What can he say? That minor in film from college did come in handy after all!)

Sleeping? How cute! Tim will definitely try to wake you up with fun, made up tunes with help from his ukulele. His voice may not be the best, but he will definitely try to make you burst out laughing right when you’re rising from the depths of sleep with wicked wordplay and riffs that could tickle your ears. He’ll also cuddle you if you’re too far deep in sleep. (But he will also welcome it if you were to cuddle and snuggle him from behind, this man sorely needs it).

As a person who has grown up with poor mental health, Tim can more than sympathize if you ever experience panic attacks, anxiety attacks, or full on mental breakdowns. Once he learns that you suffer from these disorders, he’s going to ask you how to best handle you whenever these things ever occur and he’s there to help. He’s more than willing to hold your hand, talk you through these attacks, or simply hold you close and keep quiet while also urging you to breathe. In and out. In and out. In and out.

If need be, he has a few psychiatrists and therapists on call if you ever need a professional word of advice.

All in all, you’re in pretty good hands with Tim! Unfortunately, he’s a man who’s had more than his fair share of heartbreak and horror over the course of his lifetime. Because of this, it might take more time and effort than usual to get close to him, but once you do, your relationship will blossom and bloom on both sides. Be sure to be honest with how you feel about him and to ground him if he ever feels down.

If you want to donate a Ko-Fi, feel free https://ko-fi.com/devintrinidad.

MARBLE HORNETS MASTERLIST

#marble hornets #mh #marble hornets tim #mh tim #tim wright #marble hornets tim wright #mh tim wright #marble hornets matchup #mh matchup #matchup #matchups #dearestones #devintrinidad

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