#i have mixed feelings about entities... | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

poguehearted77 · 6 months ago

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Hi!! I've watched the scene where Sarah is starving and Rafe is pacing around and knowing he has cash in his pocket and doesn't care that his sister is starving and pregnant. I can't help but imagine it if it was reader, and they hooked up once twice or however you see fit, and she's pregnant with his baby.

Would it be any different? Could you write something about that? Take the idea and run with it because im bad at articulating 🤣

Oh yeah, Rafe is a class-A asshole, but he might show just a little remorse if the baby is his.

Love the requests, keep sending em' in!!

The Moroccan sun was beating down on the group relentlessly, sweating you out and drying you up with the shine of its bright light. The only reason your sweat wasn't dripping off you was because it was quickly soaked up into the modest fabrics around your head.

You'd been travelling tirelessly for the last few days, dangerously too, if you might add. The boat nearly capsized multiple times just trying to make it to Morocco. As if the boat ride wasn't abhorrent enough with your seasickness....and morning sickness...

The constant smell of saltwater and the rocking of the ship had amplified the awful experience and you would spend the first hour in the bathroom regurgitating your insides every morning. It was not fun.

None of the pogues know you're pregnant. Although, Cleo was on to you. One pregnancy was more than enough for the group to worry about. You figured this was something you'd keep to yourself despite the fact the father is currently trekking with you through the hot sands.

The day was only getting hotter. You're thirsty, your lungs hurt and it felt like your own organs were weighing you down. You naturally began to fall behind the group, little by little until the gap was hard to ignore.

"Come on, Y/n. We're not far from the city, just a few more miles." Pope encouraged but it triggered a laboured breath. You're exhausted. A small smile crept on your lips when you noticed John B holding Sarah's hand the whole time, never letting her out of his sight.

For what feels like the eighth time, Rafe looks over his shoulder, more annoyed than ever. "Jeez, would you hurry it up?" You scoff, mustering up enough energy to kick up some sand at his legs. "Nice. Real mature, Y/n." His sarcasm rolls off his tongue and you ignore him as you walk past him.

Once you finally made it into the city, you all needed something to eat. Sarah wasn't feeling so great and neither were you. Babies are nothing but greedy entities consuming all the nutrients you need.

You leaned against the cool rock wall, watching the others run off to help themselves to a five-finger discount. With your eyes closed, you tried to distract yourself from the ache in your abdomen. Not sure if it was the baby or your hunger, possibly a mix of both.

Without even realizing it, you let a hand rest lightly over your stomach. It was still early, you weren't showing and you thank god.

"We're wasting time!" You hear Rafe yell, it doesn't even faze you. He's somewhere near you when he mumbles to himself, "Sitting around on the streets when we should be going after Groff, unbelievable."

What was supposed to be a quick glance your way turns into an elongated stare. His eyes raked over your posture, your shut eyes, brows crunched in distress. He slowly looks down at the placement of your hand.

"Y/n." He says, tugging you into a corner out of sight from the others and you swat him. He shockingly accepts the reprimands and backs off, taking a step back. "What do you want, Rafe?" Your arms cross, waiting for him to say something.

"Is it mine?" Your arms fall slowly, caught, but you deny it. "I don't know what you're talking about." Hardly able to take two steps away before he's barricading you in the corner with his body.

"Don't bullshit me, Y/n. The baby. Is it mine?" You chew on your lower lip, avoiding his chilling gaze. Apparently, that was enough confirmation. "How long have you known?" He takes on a defensive stance.

How the hell were you supposed to know the answer to that? The last week alone has blurred together in memories of rough waters and dry deserts.

All you knew was it happened sometime between the various times you and Rafe swore it would be the last time you fooled around. Unsure if it was the time on his yacht, in the back of his truck or one of the dozen times you somehow ended up in his bed when you swore you were only in figure eight for a 'walk'.

The group had no idea the two of you had been involved with each other aside from the occasionally tense argument, but anyone could admit the two of you can't seem to stay away from one another.

"I dunno, a month maybe?" He pressed both hands to his forehead, fingers spread wide, and slowly dragged them down, smearing the tension all the way to his chin.

"Let's go." His grip on your hand forces you to follow his long strides between the bustling kiosks until you land inside a Delhi. You're too stuck inside your own mind to process what was happening until you watched Rafe lift the bottom of his shirt, revealing a fanny pack with a considerable amount of money.

"Of course. Of course, you had money this whole time! Of course, you let the others go stealing--!" He hushes you as the owner flashes you a look of concern, "Listen, I'm not the one who told those pogues to go looting. I've got money for more important shit than their sad jewel hunt." He explains, paying for the items with a small nod of gratitude towards the man.

Turning to you, he placed a sandwich in one hand, and a cool bottle of water in the other. "This," He starts, his palm gently resting against your stomach. For the first time in a long time, his brows relax and his gaze softens when he looks at you. "This is more important."

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robboyblunder · 7 months ago

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As promised I went ahead and continued my "ghoul guide" with a part 2 (part one linked in replies)! This one covers stuff specifically with a made up lore guide of in-world ghoul stuff as if they were a sort of unique magic entity.

This one wound up way longer and had to be split so expect a third final one eventually lmao. for now though... I'm gonna take a break and yell. Bonus extra info plus the transcript under the cut!

ID in ALT text!

Bonus note: While not portrayed in the guide, it’s important to know a detail about ghouls’ origin called “memory echoes”. While ghouls are formed from humans past who lose all memory of their previous self while maintaining an assumed personality from before, at times certain instances of events, actions, items, and otherwise can trigger these “echoes”. Echoes are very rare, but a valued treasure to ghouls; they make them feel more connected to their past and more “human”. Upon triggering an echo, a ghoul will become completely listless, unable to respond or react until the echo has completed, usually within seconds.

“Memory echoes” are described as blurry faded memories that often show featureless shapes and colors, but a very strong “feeling” of a Deja-vu of the moment. They feel viscerally real and can have a mix of the senses i.e. touch and smell, but produce no recognizable faces or imagery of the self. No ghoul has ever reported fully remembering one, nor any semblance of their true past beyond the haunting leftovers.

Begin Transcript:

A Compendium of Hell’s Derivates

While there are many theories on the demonic nature of ghouls,

The true source is surprisingly Human.

Souls cannot be recreated; rather, they’re Recycled and Reborn

The cycle of ghoul creation started for unknown reasons…

But one thing is Certain:

Natural forces do not change easily.

Raw elements collide with the fuel of life itself until one connects

by His command

A violent injection of pure elemental magic

Rewrites and erases all memory and one’s past, drastically altering the soul…

These new powers lend to the powerful allies of the ministry,

However….

… new powers are a dangerous toy.

While coined as “Feral”, new ghouls would better be designated “Raw”, “Unbound”, and “Lawlessly Dangerous”

First formed, they are still elements;

Torrential, Aimless,

Incapable of coherent thought or rules

-but with time, coherence returns to the individual

Who grows much like a life cycle’s stages without necessarily aging.

The overall cycle is the same per ghoul, yet varied enough each rises differently…

First form: “Raw” – Second form (1): “Feral” – Second form (2) – Third form: “Stabilized”

Catalyst, violent, poor formation – Unaware, wild, chaotic – Conscious; can act like oneself; less raw – fully formed and recognizable

The first form, “Raw”, is notably so violent the devil himself does not release them until stage two.

The second form in stage one of a “Feral” ghoul is much like the forces of nature; free willed and wild, understanding minimal speech.

Take caution: they can be mischievous and cause decent damage.

In the second stage of a “Feral” ghoul, they behave like typical people; however, they’re still very free and may choose to never fully stabilize.

Note: you can tell they’ve reached this stage by presence of a tail and civil habits.

If desired, a ghoul reaches the final form: “Stabilized”. They’re transformed into a stable humanoid body, a form less powerful but safer.

Note: Talented ghouls can change form at will in this stage between secondary Feral and Stable.

When it comes to location, each form is most likely to be found:

Raw: Hell, contained

Feral (Stage 1): wilds/natural areas

Feral (Stage 2): wilds and civil areas

Stabilized: anywhere people go

Seeing feral ghouls is not uncommon, and can even be considered lucky!

They tend to provide free protection to keep their home

Ghouls can only stabilize via ministry ritual;

One can assume they’re ministry members if stable, even off duty.

Ghouls are uncommon, but found most places if looked for;

This seems especially true near ministry placements.

Ghouls only form from adults and don’t “age” traditionally, yet they’re still mortal

Deceased ghouls do not seem to return or recycle.

Summoning intentionally pulls only second stage feral ghouls or stable ghouls from anywhere,

They don’t always like this however (see other guide).

The cycle of ghouls serves a main purpose – as forces for the Dark One, in return for rebirth

However, there are two channels through which they serve.

1) Natural defense against corrupted holy magic

Non-stable ghouls defend at will naturally where they live

2) training to fight, protect, and uphold the ministry’s efforts in the name of the Devil.

Contrary to belief, summonings cannot grab from “nothing”;

Like the creation of a ghoul,

Their element, once developed, is what becomes pulled by nature

The force of such pull is incredible,

A disorientating test of will so great…

…it can render even the most sound minds rather violent.

This is why while some choose to stabilize, others may not;

But should a mind change, they can be freed or re-summoned.

Alternative to wild summoning, one can summon from trained ghouls over feral;

Many ghouls are trained for ministry positions all over, but any can be summoned if unassigned.

Though stabilized, unassigned ghouls are not contractually bound to anyone until assigned.

They’re great for extra work hands and being able to know what kind of team mates you’ll get without leaving it to chance.

Summoning any ghoul however reverts them to feral form, and the challenge to tame them remains the same.

Just because you know a ghoul does not mean an easy summon.

Finally, be warned: forcing unwanted breaking or upholding of a summoning contract

Will have dire consequences.

Aside from rarity of an element, there are “power classes” within each element.

Tiers:

Rarity of an element does not equal strength.

The break down is as follows:

Rare – extreme and dangerous power. These ghouls earn a specialized title.

Quite strong, stand out in their class and very sought after.

Most common tier; average and decent powers that are expectable.

Weak powers, but some uses are applicable.

Uncommon – ghouls who possess little to no powers. Ghouls in this tier may at times suddenly change power tier without warning to any other category.

S-Tier ghouls are quite rare and a sight to behold- truly, they embody nature’s power.

End transcript.

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decay-1 · 2 months ago

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Soldier!Ena makes me so gay, can I please ask for another imagine of her being domineering and where she maybe calls reader cute? 🥺🙏✨️

Here you go! I mixed in 2 requests in this one; hopefully you guys like the way I went with writing this!

I'm way 2 lazy to continue editing, so it's probably kinda ass, but yea, I'd love feedback!

“Not even a fool would leave your side, my dear.”

You would’ve been killed had she not come in at the last second, blowing a shot into your enemy’s guts and rendering them dead.

Yet… She continued firing, no matter how much you told her to stop. It kept going, bullet after bullet, blood spill after blood spill, until the entity was ultimately unrecognizable. The blood filled the dirt, seeping into the cracks caused by the war and seeping under Ena’s feet.

The blood rippled disgustingly with each shot ringing in the air.

“It’s DEAD, Ena!”

You ran over and grabbed her arm, effectively stopping her. Your warm touch seems to have woken her up from her dissociative state.

Her stare felt off. Her actions were so… unlike her; she’s never lost her cool this much to start wasting bullets on a nobody.

You were about to ask if she was injured, but she had thrown the gun onto the dirt and practically jumped onto you. She wrapped her arms around you, firmly, as if you would slip from her fingers at any moment. One hand was firmly wrapped around your waist, pushing you into her, and the other was behind your head.

“Ena—? this isn’t the time nor place—”

“No matter—are you okay? Injured? Did anything get its hands on you?” She shouted breathlessly over the missiles, pulling back and putting her hands all over your person to check for injuries.

You could feel her tremble, and the slight stutter in her voice was hard to ignore. It gave you a bad feeling in your chest, specifically the left side, for some… strange reason.

“No—! no, I’m alright—” You dropped your gun to grab her shaky hands, halting her frantic search. Feeling just how shaky her hands were broke you all the more. “I’m okay thanks to you… But are you okay, Ena?”

She froze at your question, her wide eyes looking into your worried ones, as if searching for something. Her mouth hung open, yet nothing came out, and she struggled to form a single thought. She looks down at her bloodied shoes for a moment. Your warm hands over hers calms her down, knowing that you’re still there with her.

Taking a much-needed, deep inhale and exhale, she looks up at you, a serene feel surrounding her. Her hands have stopped their trembling; she seemed confident now. And she smirks.

Seeing her back to her usual self made you nearly start to form a smile of your own.

Her hands carefully rose up to your face; she gently rubbed your cheeks as a way to comfort both you and her. A building crashing down a while away made her hair flow. Beautifully, should you add.

Wait, what?

Stepping closer, she spoke smoothly.

And suddenly you forget about the war raging behind you; you forget the ash and debris falling down like rain everywhere and into your lungs.

"I am by my lover’s side now, aren't I?"

Now it was your turn to be breathless. Did she just…? The area was already as blazing hot as it could be, yet she somehow managed to make you feel even warmer. That can’t be possible, can it? What the hell is she doing to you and…and your heart? The sound of it beating restlessly took over your senses. Was that normal? Is this an enemy attack? Are you dying?!

She chuckles at your state, swiftly snapping you out of your thoughts.

She's going to be the death of you someday,

“God, you’re so cute,” she hums, her nose a hair away from yours.

and somehow, you’re not against it.

You sweat-dropped from all the warm feelings bubbling up in your chest. Trying to think of something—anything— to say, you then remembered something:

“Hey—wait—aren’t you supposed to be on the other side?”

She tilted her head and spoke as if it was obvious.

“Not even a fool would think of leaving your side, my dear.”

#listening to bjork while writing this felt like heaven #ena dream bbq #ena joel g #joel g ena #ena x reader #dream bbq #ena dream bbq x reader #ena webseries

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manganiti · 2 months ago

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Tsukasa's Mindset & Love

Tsukasa's Mindset

Tsukasa merged with the pit god at the very early age of 4. He lost part of his humanity after that, so he didn't fully develop that human side of him.

Also, the fact that he was in the Red House alone with the pit god that granted wishes, affected him because the pit god also gave him what he wanted without limits, as shown in this cover. There are donuts, pizza, desserts, sodas and lots of unhealthy foods scattered all around. It also displays an interesting text: "Disintegrated childhood".

Notice the difference in the state of his toys before and after he merged with the pit god. The most telling is his stuffed bear. Compare it to the state of his bear in the previous picture. It's also a clue of the change he suffered because of the pit god. He started to mutilate his toys. It may be a clue of "not holding back".

Tsukasa didn't feel the need to stick to human moral convictions and emotions because when he merged with the pit god, the nature of that god mixed with himself and he learned that no matter what, people should get what they want, no matter if that wish and the means of obtaining it, are wrong or right.

During the time he was in the Red House, Tsukasa didn't have restrictions to what he could get, in this case, food he liked. He also watched people sacrifice others, even loved ones, to obtain their wishes (because he even mentioned that there was an entire family that was trapped in the Red House). Tsukasa's mindset was deeply affected by it.

He didn't learn that even if someone had a wish, it didn't always mean that they were going to sacrifice others to obtain it. Only Kou was the one who taught him that by resisting what the Red House offered to him, and when he basically told Tsukasa that he didn't want any of his wishes granted and that he learned to live like that. He didn't want to sacrifice Nene even if it would give him what he desired the most.

Then Tsukasa called Kou weird because of that. So, of all the people who got in the Red House, Kou was the only one who resisted the desires of his heart.

On the other hand, Kou also taught Tsukasa that people don't just want their wishes granted, that there's also a moral and love aspect related to them, a human side of it. That even if it's human to wish for things, it's also human to "hold back" because of love and morals.

Kou also made him see that he didn't know everything about his brother, he made Tsukasa see the human complexity in emotions, thoughts and morals that Tsukasa didn't understand. Kou reinforced this when he told Tsukasa that Amane was going to kill him and kill himself.

Tsukasa didn't understand this complexity because he was innocent, he was always pure, transparent and straightforward, so he thought that when someone did something or say something, it was that way, with no hidden meanings. That's why he believed with all his heart that Amane hated him based on his words, actions and the jealousy Amane showed to him because Tsukasa had a healthier body.

We don't know very much about the way he was when he was 12-13 years old, but Tsukasa and Amane seemed to get along. They had a good relationship after Tsukasa returned to his family. I think that he believed in Kou's words through all those years, that he didn't know everything about his brother and watching Amane for many years, he learned more about human morals, thoughts and emotions. Also Tsukasa seemed to be popular at school and outgoing, contrary to Amane. It didn't seem that the entity affected his school life.

However, we still don’t know how the entity continued to shape his actions and thoughts after he returned to his family. But I think the entity kept on having a very strong influence on him in this aspect.

Now, taking into account all of the previous things about Tsukasa's set of morals and how the entity influenced them, let's talk about the way he thinks about supernaturals.

Tsukasa thinks that if a human becomes a supernatural, they're still themselves. No matter if their memories, humanity or part of their soul is lost. I believe he, experiencing the merge with the pit god, he knows he's still himself, despite not being fully human.

For example, in Mitsuba's case, Tsukasa said that he still had Mitsuba's soul at his core with the difference that he lost part of his soul and that he didn't have his human memories anymore. But Mitsuba is still Mitsuba.

To Tsukasa, a human or supernatural being, they just should be the way they are, without any kind of restrictions.

He thinks that every being should just follow their own nature without "holding back".

Tsukasa accepts the nature of all beings, whether their actions are morally correct or not and whether they're supernaturals or not. The most important thing for him is that everyone gets what they wish for regardless of consequences, if they're willing to pay the price.

In general, Tsukasa doesn't care about what's wrong or right. All beings, humans or supernaturals, "shouldn't hold back" in their morals and desires because all beings are "the way they are" and they just should follow their own nature. All beings should be "true to themselves".

Now, the story has led us to come to the conclusion that Tsukasa is still Tsukasa even if he lost part of his humanity after merging with the pit god, and even if he became a yorishiro.

For example, it was confirmed that when he was alive, Tsukasa wasn't possessed. And after dying and becoming a yorishiro, it also can be observed that Tsukasa is himself because he loves his brother despite everything, also in the way he reminisces about the past with a nostalgic face and like when he was 4 years old, before he merged with the pit god, he still thinks that Amane hates him.

We still don't have much information about the way he was when he was alive, but I have the theory that after becoming a yorishiro, he lost more of that human side of himself. For example, when he was about to crash Nene against the floor, he had to remind himself that "he's supposed to be nice to girls". He had to remind himself of the way he "should" act.

After dying, that "not holding back" mindset became stronger because of his supernatural side and also because of the conflict he has with Amane.

Tsukasa's Love

Tsukasa's love at it's peak, is shown with Amane. He wanted his brother to become healthy and have a normal life. His wish was selfless and in order to get that wish granted by the pit god, he sacrificed himself.

When he returned to his family, he still loved his brother very much, despite thinking that Amane hated him. He never cared about how Amane felt about him or if he had to sacrifice himself for Amane, he just wanted Amane's wellbeing because he loves his brother more than anyone.

Even when Amane killed him, gave up the life Tsukasa sacrificed for, it created a conflict between them and Tsukasa resents Amane because of his selfishness, this is what he said at the end of the day, it didn't affect the love he feels for his brother. He doesn't care if Amane's actions were wrong or right, he still loves his dark side:

Tsukasa's love is selfless and unconditional. A love that accepts all the good and bad sides of Amane. To Tsukasa, it doesn't matter if Amane loves him too, he even accepts that "Amane hates him". Tsukasa just loves Amane and accepts everything about him.

Even he feels closeness to people who loves Amane too (Nene). He was eager to share information about Amane with Nene (Maybe that’s why she sometimes travels to the past and he encouraged her to fix the clock so he can show her everything about Amane's past?). So, he likes to talk about his brother despite believing Amane hates him.

His love is so big, that even most of us believe that the reason behind the destruction of the yorishiros, is to grant his brother's true wish at the cost of himself. He doesn't care if he disappears so that his brother could get what he truly wishes for.

So, his love is unshakeable. Nothing has ever changed in this aspect, because even when Tsukasa was killed by his beloved brother, became his yorishiro, called for his brother without receiving an answer and still believes that he hates him, he's still willing to die, to sacrifice himself for Amane's wish.

Conclusion

Tsukasa's morals and his point of view on supernaturals don't depend on what's right or wrong. He believes that humans and supernaturals should follow their own nature and give into their own desires because to him, by doing so, they're staying true to themselves. He learned this since he was a little kid because of the pit god and the way people acted and it influenced his mindset. In spite of this, Kou's words also influenced him and helped Tsukasa see these things in a human way, regarding love and morals. Also the entity kept influencing his mindset as he grew up but there's no enough information about the way Tsukasa was when he was alive.

His love is selfless and self-sacrificial. He's someone who gives everything, his very existence, for his loved ones, and he doesn't care whether his love is reciprocated because his love is unconditional. He's not afraid to give up his very being for his loved ones if it means they're going to be happy.

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leftarmofl1fe · 8 months ago

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hue makes an appearance again.. if any of yall know me from tiktok and saw my first post about him ily

don’t mind me @toffeebrew @howlsofbloodhounds

Yapping below \/

So initially he didn’t have much of a story because I’m not very creative and I blank out whenever I try to make something original so yeah.

basically, if Color were ever to get error-d, I think he would be on a hike, probably in some random AU that had nice scenery or something. He’s wearing a rain jacket because it was raining at the place he was, and he he just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time, and Error or some other entity was destroying it or something. As for how he got into the anti void,,, yall can use ur imagination 😭

(That’s the best explanation I can give, kill me)

I was more focused on the actual character than his backstory, so I’ll just explain my ideas of how he would act and such..

I called him Static Hue, or just Hue for short. (It’s a synonym of color I’m very creative guys)

I think whatever caused the error in his code amalgamated the human souls, and kind of made them fuse together, so Hue can never understand what they are saying because they speak over each other all the time. The different traits overlap and he feels mixed emotions all the time, along with intense mood swings and anxiety attacks. His flames also change color at a much faster rate, so people with epilepsy will stay FAR away from him 😭😭😭😭

Fun fact: he’s also blind. The only thing he can actually see is the color of his flames (which change all the time), and it tends to give him headaches and nausea. His grabblings are always out and just attached to his back so he can use them to move around.

As for the strings, they are very hot to the touch and leave burn marks on however he uses them on. They burn himself as well but he doesn’t pay any attention to it.

Hue’s memory is very jumbled, he didn’t necessarily forget about everything, but he doesn’t remember why exactly he does things. He knows he needs to help killer and protect him at all costs, but he isn’t sure why. He knows he hates Nightmare and REALLY wants that guy dead, but he doesn’t know where that hatred came from. And of course he naturally feels safer near the epic trio, and nervous staying in the same places for too long.

hue’s pretty obsessive over Killer for this reason. His need to help killer was multiplied by a gazillion, and he tends to just.. kidnap Killer and take him random places to keep him close. Sometimes he accidentally hurts him, but he doesn’t realize it, the only thing he can think about is keeping him safe and close to himself. On the contrary, he gets super aggressive and defensive at the mention of Nightmare, and if he were to see him face to face he would attack without hesitation. He knows his job is to keep Killer safe and away from Nightmare, and that’s really his only motive. He just doesn’t know where it came from.

Similarly to most errors, he has trouble speaking because of stuttering and glitches. He also can’t form very clear thoughts because the souls are constantly influencing his behavior. He has trouble explaining his thoughts and feelings, he tends to speak more in actions (as in he would crush you to death in a hug to show affection.)

anyway. If anyone wants to add onto this or share thoughts I’d appreciate it..

Here’s some older drawings of him LMAO

#Tw eyestrain #eyestrain #eyestrain warning #color sans #sans au #sans oc #<?#utmv #undertale au #othertale #error au #me when I can’t make good backstories #I saw people talking about an error color and I got excited #hey!!! I made one forever ago!!!

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sweetsuburbanlegends · 2 months ago

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Grocery Store - Frozen Foods

Summary: You run into Hotch after your first few days at the BAU.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x f!Reader

Word Count: 1.9k

A/N: Eep! I'm planning for this to be a series of oneshots in the same universe of little domestic moments.

Warnings: put the self in self-insert, brief mention of disordered eating (blink and you'll miss it), hotch mention's haley's pregnancy (blink and you'll miss it), a lot being said without being said ig, hotch having massive hands because i said so

The grocery aisles, on a late Saturday night, are predictably empty, still the open space that had been brimming with people only hours before unnerves you. Though you know it’s not true by the sparse cars in the parking lot, it feels as though you were the only one here and that’s not what you wanted when you'd packed up for the short trip over.

The silence hangs heavy in the air, as if the place is holding its breath, waiting to kick you out of it into the dark of the night so it can get some rest in preparation for the Sunday morning crowds.

Your basket hangs in the crook of your elbow and you find yourself wandering between aisles slightly aimless, eyes not really seeing as you look around. The anonymity of the place would usually settle you, calm your racing nerves but right now, mixed with a weekend off from work, with a long stretch of a few days left to fill, it makes the air around you feel like vegetable shortening.

You find yourself in the frozen goods aisles, hoping the chill and rush of the cold can help to ground you when a familiar voice calls out your last name. You turn in its direction.

“Oh!” Even when you’re off from work, work seems to find you. “Agent Hotchner, sir, hi.”

“Evening,” he smiles at you politely. Though he’s out of his high collars and suits, his voice betrays none of the vulnerability you feel is dripping from yours at having been caught outside of work. “Rather late for groceries, isn’t it?”

You look down at your basket, “Just some essentials, sir.” You catch him looking over to the shelves of ice cream to your left, and you let out a nervous laugh, afraid to be caught in a lie you never told, “And an indulgence or two.”

He nods, eyes flitting over to meet yours. “Good.”

Something about this, seeing Aaron in jeans and worn-down shirt, out of the office and where a passerby would mistake you for two acquaintances, makes you feel childish. The similarity between right now and the times you’d run into your elementary teachers outside of school is hard to miss. It’s the same jarring feeling, like the Earth had wobbled on its axis for a moment, thrust you into a pocket of air where rules didn’t seem to apply anymore.

Even when you were little, you were a stickler for them. Wanted, needed, to keep everything in its right place. Your mother always told you stories of your seemingly disproportionate anger, screaming and crying tantrums over the slightest things left out of place.

“And what’s your poison of-” he cuts himself off, tilting his head to read the label on the tub. “Non-Fat, All-Organic, frozen Greek yogurt…” his words trail off, a stitch forming between his eyebrows.

You smile at him sheepishly.

Despite the carefree ease that accompanied most of your childhood, you’re not sure if you’d like to go back to it. You’d rather the burden of responsibility, the burden of control, rather than the unbridled rage you feel was coursing through you at almost any given point in time when you were younger.

“Intriguing.”

You laugh before you get a chance to reel it in, and heat rushes to your face seconds later. The waters were still murky, around the team, but Aaron especially. Despite everyone’s best efforts to make it seem otherwise, there was still a line drawn between you and them. And they held safety in numbers, an elusive entity that spoke a language of its own.

Aaron, as your Unit Chief, only added another layer of complexity to the dynamic. His reputation was famous, infamous in other circles, and it only made you approach each and every encounter with him with hesitancy, scared to get too close and not close enough, balancing on a knife’s edge.

“Forgive me if I’m prying, Agent,” his voice draws you away from your thoughts. “But-but…why the-why-”

You shrug, gnawing at the inside of your lip. There’s a burning hole in the pit of your stomach, and an exhaustion washes over you suddenly. “It’s…uh,” you laugh again to buy yourself some time. “I like the taste.”

Aaron pauses a moment too long, and you watch him as he looks you over, at the things in your basket, the circles under your eyes. “I find that hard to believe.”

It scares you how easily he managed to read you. The spinach and unsweetened plant milk in your basket, the clear indications of what your teenage self would call ‘trying to be good’.

The condensation starts to form on the tub in your arm, sticking to the sensitive skin of your inner arm.

“And-uh,” you clear your throat, look around anxiously eager to flick the spotlight away. “What’s got you making the midnight journey?”

The intentional look he was holding on you disappears in favour of a more general politeness, “Same as you.” He turns to the freezers, opening the door and taking two pints of Ben & Jerry’s, holding them in each hand to show you. “Indulgence.”

“Chocolate Therapy?” The label on each pint is the same.

“You’re surprised.”

You stammer for your footing, the sudden boldness a shock to yourself, “I-uh, sorry, sir, it just-”

The sound of his laugh cuts you short, muted and barely perceptible to anyone else had they been walking down the aisle, but at this time of night, it’s only you and him and the fuzzy sound of a Top 40s station filtering out over the speakers.

“What is it, Agent?” He smiles now, properly. The effect is jarring, feels like something you shouldn’t be seeing. “I don’t strike you as a chocolate man?”

It’s hard to find an answer to that. The day had been long, drawn out, you’d barely processed the weight of it, the weight of the week that preceded it, before running into Aaron and striking up this strange vertigo of an encounter.

You wish fervently for the ease the rest of the team has around each other, to be able to summon up a witty, smart answer in a matter of milliseconds and the confidence to say it as well. More often than not you’re left bumbling, hands grasping pathetically at little soap bars of words that all seem inadequate.

“Take a guess.”

“Sorry, sir?”

He gestures to the containers to your left, “Take a guess, Agent.”

You want to rebuttal, apologize profusely maybe, and go back home and pretend none of this had ever happened. Instead, you look over to the freezer, raking your eyes over each label, hoping you can gather your thoughts in a somewhat coherent manner, to come out of this nightmare of a place relatively unscathed. You gaze back over to him and see him watching you intently. There’s a small pint to your right and you make a snap decision before you think too much of it and risk looking daft, “An Éclair Affair.”

“Really?” His face is still unreadable. Nodding, you fight the urge to stutter and change your answer, this dreadful conversation already taking a turn towards treacherous waters. “Hm.”

The fridges beside you switch on with a soft hum, their frequency slightly higher than that of the buzzing fluorescents. Your mouth fills with blood, the inside of your cheek chewed raw by the time he speaks up again, “Good.”

“Good?” you can’t help but repeat, wincing at how dull and parrot-like it makes you look.

He nods, the edges of his mouth curling up and his eyes twinkling in the harsh light. He looks down at the two pints he’s holding stacked on top of each other in one hand, “They’re for Haley. She’s been having cravings recently and…” he gestures vaguely with the hand holding the containers. “She’s very specific.”

You wonder if he knows that his shoulders curl just slightly when he talks about her, that the hard flint of his face smooths over, bricks falling away. You wonder if they’re things he’s schooled himself out of doing and is just letting slip here, or if they’re truly forces of habit.

“She’s got good taste, sir.”

The rush of your victory is still coursing through you, a flicker of hope at the end of the tunnel, a promise that it can and will get better.

You see Aaron struggle for a moment, opening his mouth once, twice, before saying, rather bluntly, “You should get what you want.”

“I-what?”

With his chin, he gestures to the container in your arm, “Indulge. Properly, I mean.”

You fumble for an answer, something right. So much of your new life, your new job, has made you feel you’d never do anything properly ever again. “Is that an order, sir?”

He lets out a soft exhale through his nose, shaking his head as he looks down. To your delight, the corners of his mouth twitch up. Looking up again, he says in a serious tone, “Get the full fat stuff, Agent.”

When you laugh this time, it isn’t followed by twinges of guilt, of fear. It bursts out easily from your throat, and the sheer nothingness that you feel is heady. You see yourself mirrored in Aaron, in the slow, rumbling chuckle he lets out. Despite his composure, you see the tips of his ears turn red, your feelings about this whole thing this evening mirrored in him.

It was strange to see him up close like this, with the weight of his authority lifted off his shoulders. It’s like watching a marble statue spring to life in front of you, pockmarks rippling up on top of previously smooth surfaces.

Aaron keeps looking at you, expectant. The tub grows heavier in your arms, and you shift it higher up. You wonder if you’re just imagining the weight of the decision laying in front of you, the push and pull between should and could.

It has been a long time since your teenage years, since fainting in the shower and brushing out clumps of your hair, but you think that that girl will always be with you, for better and worse. It’s a wonder to you that nobody saw it coming, your insatiable thirst for control spiraling greater and greater until college where it followed your every thought, manipulated your every move.

“Agent?”

You know Aaron well enough at least, to know that he wouldn’t be offended if you didn’t change your choice. He was private, not cruel.

Your eye catches another flavour, and before you let yourself think too much of it, to think yourself out of it, you open the fridge door and switch. The rush of cool air is gratifying, the wash of a good night’s sleep after a long day.

Breathing out softly, you look back to see him shift the containers in his grip, “I’ll see you Monday, Agent.” He nods at you, polite and professional as always.

When he rounds the corner at the end of the aisle, the ice cream catches your eye, a stark contrast to the other things in your basket. The low timbre of Aaron’s laugh rings out in your ears again, the anvil crushing your chest lifted.

Thanks for reading, if you liked it, please consider leaving some feedback! I obsess and re-read reblogs and comments constantly.

Masterlist here.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner x female!reader #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner angst #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner x f!reader #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fic #thomas gibson

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ur-local-wizard · 2 months ago

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The Driver

Inspired by Måneskin's "The Driver."

kissing, characters are adults, slight coercion(?), mattheo riddle x fem!reader, we're gonna pretend hogwarts is a uni, that should be it

w/c: 825

nav masterlist

a/n: this was a request from @i-await !! she's so creative, and i'm so grateful to have been able to bounce ideas with her!

The Forbidden Forest is practically its own entity. The distant whispers, the way the wind slithers through the trees and hits your skin, making goosebumps appear. The scent of damp earth and pine lingers in the air, making each breeze curl into your lungs with every breath you take.

You know you shouldn’t be here. Not this late at night. Not with him. It was a bad idea from the start, getting to know him. He was reckless, his presence famously all-consuming. But something about him drew you in. So that’s how you ended up here, in the Forbidden Forest, with the man you knew could very well ruin you and everything you’ve worked toward.

“You don’t judge me, do you?” Your words ring out in the cold night – the only sound against the frigid wind and rustling leaves. Mattheo’s head tilts, his gaze intense as he studies you in the dim moonlight. The corner of his mouth tilts up in a smirk, but something softer lies beneath it.

“Why would I?” He asks, his voice low, rough with something that makes heat coil in your belly. He pushes off the tree he was leaning on, slowly walking closer to you. “You care too much about what other people think of you. About what they expect from you.” His fingers ghost over your wrist, just barely brushing your skin. “You’ve spent your whole life trying to live up to everyone else’s needs – what they want from you. Doesn’t it ever get tiring?”

You swallow harshly, your throat dry. Fingers twitching at your sides, your feet shuffle nervously on the forest floor. “And you don’t?”

A quiet chuckle leaves his lips, but there’s no humor in it. He’s so close you can feel his breath on your face, can smell the scent of smoke on him, mixed with something else. Something intoxicating.

“No,” he says, voice quiet as he shoves his hands into his pockets. “And you don’t have to either. Definitely not with me.”

You know you should walk away, should remind him you have expectations to meet, a future to achieve . But as soon as you open your mouth, the words die in your throat. It’s clear that his words are crawling under your skin, weaving their way into your mind like an invitation. Instead, you hold his gaze.

“What do you want with me, Mattheo? Why did you ask me to meet you here?”

A muscle in his jaw twitches, and he exhales slowly. He shakes his head as if you’ve asked him something absolutely ridiculous. Then, he leans down, forcing you to tilt your chin up to keep his gaze. His fingers brush against your cheekbone. It’s the slightest touch, but it’s enough to make your heart soar.

“I don’t want anything, sweetheart,” he murmurs. “I just want you to stop holding back. To let yourself feel.”

Your breath catches. The wind tugs at your hair, blowing it into your face. Without thinking, he reaches down to brush it back behind your ear. His fingers linger a second too long, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw.

Looking up at him, hearing his words, makes a realization hit you like a semi-truck. You’ve been living life in careful choices, measured steps. Nothing went unplanned. But now, standing in front of this impossibly persuasive man, you find yourself wanting to let go of all those expectations. Mattheo looks at you like he can see the cracks beneath the surface, like he can see the pent up emotion, the reckless parts of you that yearn to be set free.

“Tell me you don’t want this. Tell me I’m wrong, and I’ll let it go. I’ll walk away; I’ll leave you alone.” His voice is a gentle, quiet whisper, as if he’s telling you a secret. “Tell me you don’t want to let go, to feel something real, just this once.”

You don’t say anything. You can’t. Because he’s right. Truth lies in his words, and you both know it. The tension hangs heavy in the air, and you can’t lie to yourself anymore.

He pushes you up against the rough bark of the tree, his hands holding onto your hips. You stop breathing as he runs his thumb over your hip bone – teasing, testing the limits. His lips ghost over your cheek, and you can feel his warmth seeping into you.

“Let me make you forget everything else, doll. Let go. Please.” His voice is pleading, as if he needs you to do this. For him. For you.

You shudder, and then break completely. Your fingers grip his shirt as you pull him down, crashing your lips against his. Something like a groan escapes his lips, but he doesn’t pull away. His hands are on you, gripping, holding, exploring, pulling you closer like he’ll die if there’s any space between you two.

At this moment, the world no longer exists. Now, it’s just the two of you – no future, no expectations. Just you and Mattheo. And for once in your life, you’ve agreed to give in and feel.

Thank you for reading!! Comments/reblogs are very appreciated and motivate me lots!! Hope you enjoyed <3

©ur-local-wizard translating, republishing, copying, or claiming my work as yours is not permitted. all my work belongs to me and me only. thank you!

taglist: @mattyriddlesbitch @sturniolover13 @thereeallink @voidangxls @riddleswhcre @gibsluv

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reveryfics · 3 months ago

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That's My Kind Of Night

Bucky Barnes x Male Reader

Summary: Bucky takes some down time at his favorite country themed bar, where his favorite bartender just so happens to work.

A/N: I have a lot of headcanons for Bucky, one being that he goes to country bars a lot and obviously line dances. He'd also be a Luke Bryan fan, and I'll die on that hill.

TW: Teasing - Cowboy hat rule - Suggestive - Gay sex - 18+ - Females DNI

The bar throbbed, a living, breathing entity of sweat, spilled whiskey, and the insistent pulse of country rock. Bodies swayed, ground against each other, a chaotic ballet of drunken abandon. Pool balls cracked, laughter boomed, and the air crackled with a raw, animalistic energy. The staff, a motley crew of weathered faces and sharp eyes, moved with the practiced ease of those who had seen it all, their banter as rough and tumble as the bar itself.

Bucky's jaw was a tight line, his eyes dark and focused, a predator scanning the herd. He ignored the drunken advances, the suggestive winks, the whispers about a "country girl" he was supposedly pining for. His gaze, however, was fixed on a specific country boy, a heat simmering in his veins at the mere thought.

"Lookin' for someone, sugar?" The drawl, thick and honeyed, sent a shiver down Bucky's spine. It was the voice that had haunted his dreams, the voice that had drawn him back to this chaotic haven, again and again.

He turned, a slow, deliberate movement, his lips curving into a predatory smile. "Hey," he murmured, his voice rough. "Wasn't sure you were working."

You slid a glass across the bar, the amber liquid swirling within. "Wouldn't miss my favorite distraction," you purred, your eyes locking with his. "Besides," you added, a playful glint in your eyes, "someone's gotta keep you out of trouble."

Six months. Six months of stolen glances, whispered conversations, and a simmering tension that crackled between them like static electricity. Bucky had found a strange comfort in this place, a sense of belonging he hadn't felt in years. And you, well, you'd been watching him, cataloging every flicker of emotion in his eyes, every subtle shift in his posture.

"You know," Bucky whispered, his voice low and husky, "I feel like I can actually be myself here."

A low chuckle rumbled in your chest. "Maybe it's the whiskey," you teased, your eyes dancing with mischief. "Or maybe," you continued, leaning closer, your breath ghosting over his ear, "it's the company."

The conversation was cut short by the opening chords of "Dirt On My Boots," the bar's unofficial anthem. You vaulted over the counter, a fluid, graceful movement, and joined the staff on the dance floor, your body moving with a sensual rhythm that made Bucky's breath catch in his throat.

His eyes devoured you, tracing the curve of your hips, the sway of your shoulders, the way your jeans hugged your thighs. He watched as you pulled unsuspecting patrons into the line dance, your laughter echoing through the room. And then, you were pulling him, your hand gripping the collar of his flannel, your eyes blazing with a playful challenge.

"I don't dance," he protested, his voice a low growl.

"Everyone dances," you countered, your hands sliding down to his hips, pulling him close. "Just follow my lead."

The line dance was a chaotic mix of stomps, shuffles, and hip rolls, a sensual dance of bodies pressed close, the heat radiating between them. Bucky, surprisingly, caught on quickly, his eyes never leaving yours, his body moving in sync with yours.

As the song ended, you dipped him, your hand sliding down his chest, your lips brushing against his ear. "Guess you gotta ride the cowboy now," you whispered, placing your cowboy hat on his head, a mischievous glint in your eyes.

His face flushed, his heart pounding in his chest. You led him back to the bar, your touch lingering on his skin, and resumed your duties as if nothing had happened.

"My shift's over," you whispered, your voice husky. "Care to join me?"

He nodded, unable to speak, his body thrumming with anticipation. You led him to your truck, the silence thick with unspoken desires.

You drove out of town, the lights of the bar fading into the distance, until you stopped on a deserted overlook, the stars blazing overhead. "I've been wanting to get you alone for so long," you murmured, turning to him, your eyes dark with desire.

He didn't hesitate. He pulled you onto his lap, his lips crashing against yours, a hungry, desperate kiss. You tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer, your bodies molding together.

"You have no idea how long I've watched you," you whispered against his lips, your voice thick with desire. "Watching you watch me," you teased, "while I worked. You want this as much as I do."

You took your hat, placing it on his head, and switched positions, straddling his lap. You unbuttoned his flannel, your fingers tracing the line of his chest, and tossed it into the backseat. He followed suit, his shirt joining the flannel.

You leaned down, pressing kisses against his bare chest, your hips grinding against his clothed erection. He groaned, his hands tangling in your hair, pulling you closer.

You helped him remove your shirt, the fabric sliding off your skin like a whispered promise. You unbuckled his belt, sliding his pants and boxers down, revealing his hard length. You trailed kisses down his chest, nipping and teasing, your hand encircling his cock, stroking him slowly, deliberately.

He moaned, his body arching beneath your touch. "Fuck," he groaned, his voice thick with desire.

You released him, your own desire burning, and slid your pants and boxers down. You positioned yourself, his eyes watching you with a burning intensity. He lifted his hips, and you slid down onto him, the heat of his flesh filling you.

The world narrowed, the only sensations the feel of his skin against yours, the sound of your mingled breaths, the rhythm of your bodies moving together. You set a steady pace, your hips rocking against his, your moans echoing through the cab of the truck.

He clung to you, his body shuddering as he came, his cries mingling with yours. You followed soon after, his body convulsing around you, your release a wave of pure, unadulterated pleasure.

He collapsed against you, your chests heaving, your bodies slick with sweat.

"That was," he whispered, his lips brushing against your neck, "incredible."

You chuckled, reaching into the backseat for an old shirt. "Sure was."

You drove back to your place, the silence filled with the lingering afterglow of their shared passion. The night was a blur of tangled limbs, whispered confessions, and the raw, animalistic pleasure of two bodies finding solace in each other. Sleep was a distant memory, replaced by the insistent need to touch, to taste, to explore every inch of each other's skin.

#bucky barnes x male reader #bucky x male reader #bucky barnes #marvel bucky barnes #marvel x male reader #fanfic #fanfiction #mlm #x male reader #xmalereader #marvel #headcanon #hes a country boy and I stand by it

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ultravi0lence14 · 4 months ago

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GET FREE

SAM WINCHESTER X DOE!READER

WARNINGS: meg!sam angst, hurt/comfort, smut (MDNI), unprotected p in v (wrap it up), grinding

SUMMARY: after the shock of meg taking over sam’s body, he yearns to show you how much he cares for you.

WC: 1.4k

the air in the room is tense, a strong mist that takes over both yours and sam’s senses. the events from earlier were still fresh in your mind, and you honestly didn’t know how to feel.

it wasn’t sam, you kept telling yourself, a mantra playing over and over in your skull. he’s a good man, he was possessed.

but his mean eyes, the way he gripped onto your hair so tightly while he thrusted the knife against your throat. it was all so visceral, a feeling you never thought you’d experience from sam. his usual kind, gentle loving self had gone completely awry. the demonic entity you knew as meg taking over his being and making him cruel.

even now, as he sat beside you on the bed in one of bobby’s guest rooms, you could feel that distance that you oh so desperately wanted to have from him. you loved him, you really did, but after what just happened, you didn’t know how long it would take before you could be around him.

though sam was a determined man when it came to his girl, and he was going to do everything in his power to make sure that you knew he wasn’t going to treat you like that ever again; that he would never treat you like that under his own management.

“baby,” he murmured, fingers dusting against your shoulder as he tested out if you wanted to be touched or not. “look at me, please.”

slowly, you turn your head towards his stare, looking into the sorrow filled eyes of the man you loved. he was so broken, so upset with how everything had gone. but mostly, he was angry. angry that meg made you feel scared of him. angry that because of a demon, he needed to remind his girlfriend about the love he harboured for her in his dna.

a sniffle could be heard from where you sat, a lone tear falling down your cheek. “i’m sorry sam” you choked out, feeling his hand tighten on your shoulder.

“why are you sorry?” he demands softly, bringing his hands to cradle your face. “i should be sorry. i allowed her in, allowed her to treat you like that.”

all you could muster was a small shake of your head, gripping sam’s wrists weakly. “i’m sorry because i’m making you feel like this is your fault.” your words came out blubbery, tears mixing in with your flushed cheeks. “it’s not, sam. none of this was your doing. i’m just shaken is all, i swear.”

“you’ve done no such thing.” me murmured, leaning forward and leaving a lingering kiss on your forehead. his mouth went on to travel to the slopes of your nose, leaving light, delicate kisses wherever he could reach. those kisses than moved to your cheeks, touches like feathers brushing against your smile lines. it wasn’t until he smashed his lips against yours that you felt the unbridled passion, the longing for you to feel okay after the torment you endured at his hands.

sam’s body moved so he was kneeling on the floor at your feet, hands clutching yours shaking as he peppered kiss after kiss to your knuckles and palms.

“i’m sorry,” he breathed, head lifting up with a watery puppy dog look. your hands had threaded in his hair, holding his head in place as you caressed his scalp. “please sweet girl, let me show you how sorry i am.”

no verbal response came from your lips, a shy smirk coming in it’s wake. your hands cradling sam’s face moved to his chest, lightly pushing him back until he leaned onto his palms, legs spread wide and lap oh so inviting.

tentatively, you slipped your hands to the hem of your shirt, lifting it up and revealing your lace bra. sam didn’t speak, he just watched, mouth agape, as you unclipped the material, your breasts fully on display to his eyes. you then moved to your pants, slowly sliding them down your legs and throwing them somewhere in the room. the baby pink panties you wore had sam groaning, his hands grappling at your calves and begging you to join him on the floor.

the tap of your finger on sam’s shoulder indicated you wanted his shirt to go. with quick fingers, sam’s shirt was flying in the same direction as your pants, looking up at you with wide, expectant eyes.

you couldn’t bare to see him pout any longer; as pretty as he looked, so with wobbly knees, you lowered yourself from the edge of the bed, resting yourself into sam’s lap.

in an instant, sam’s hands were on you. one arm around your waist while the other found purchase nestled deeply in your hair. soft fabric of your panties rubbed against the hard material of sam’s jeans, allowing a slight groan to ripple from your lips.

“that’s it baby,” he groaned in your ear, using his arm around your waist to help you rub slightly against the bulge in his jeans. “get yourself all worked up and ready for me. need you all wet and needy for my cock.” a moan rippled through your lips at his words, and you couldn’t help but grind against him faster as your deft fingers worked quickly on the button and zipper of his pants.

with some help from sam, you both pulled his jeans and boxers halfway down his thighs until his dick sprang free. the look of him barred to you had your mouth watering, drool pooling at the corner of your mouth from the sight of his angry red tip resting close to your covered folds.

the wet patch near your cunt had a soft chuckle leaving sam’s lips, his fingers moving from your hair to move your panties to the side. “already so wet for me, pretty girl.” he cooed, rubbing his dick through your slick. “so wet, so needy.”

your fingers dug deeply into sam’s shoulders as he lined himself up with your entrance, holding your waist and helping you slowly sink down onto his dick. you both let out a conjoined groan at the feeling, small whimpers leaving your lips as sam bottomed out, his girth spreading you open so deliciously.

“fuck, you’re so tight.” sam groaned in your ear, holding your hips tighter as you breathed heavily into the crook of his neck. “move whenever you’re ready, darling girl. i want you to use me, use my dick to make yourself come.”

his words elicited a groan from your parted lips, encouraging you to use the leverage you had on his shoulders to lift yourself up and slowly sink back down on his cock. the slight burn was dizzying, a deep moan rumbling from your chest as sam panted into your shoulder.

the constant push and pull movements had you seeing stars, loud whimpers leaving your lips every time yours and sam’s pelvis’ would collide. the man stayed true to his words, and allowed you to use him in any sense possible. all sam did was breath heavily and groan into your shoulder, deep rumbled of ‘i love you’s’ leaving his lips as he left soft kisses on your collarbone.

digging your fingers into his shoulder blades, angry red crescent shapes from your nails rose onto sam’s skin with each bounce you made on his dick. the air was lucid, and sam used the hand he had nestled in your hair to move your face to his, planing a sloppy kiss on your open, panting mouth.

“i love you so much,” he groaned, the feeling of your orgasm approaching eliciting you to move faster. “come for me baby. cmon, milk my cock.”

his words had you stilling, sam’s tip kissing your cervix as you came all around his dick. the feeling of your come soaking him had a loud groan leaving sam’s lips, his head slumping against your chest as he came himself.

loud pants could be heard throughout the room as you and sam came down from your highs. the man in question finding no need to pull out of your soaked walls as he laid himself down on the floor, grabbing your body so you could rest on top of him.

“i would never hurt you,” he whispered in your ear, stroking your hair as you felt the clutches of sleep cling to your senses. “i was born to make you feel like this, make you feel good and loved down to my last breath.”

TAGS: @starzify @titsout4jackles @floralscented @deansbeer @bluemerakis @haunteres @figthoughts @foolinthera1n @deanangel @whisperingdaze @misatxox

NAT BABBLES: sam smut?? oh we’re so up (everyone thank my sweetie pie cass!!)

#ultravi0lence14 #sam winchester x doe!reader #meg!sam #supernatural #sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester smut #sam winchester imagine #supernatural x reader #sam winchester x you

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viscus-exe · 9 months ago

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◟　Safety a step ahead

❝　sfw (for now /j), gender-neutral reader, an entry soft prompt idfk w a sprinkle of angst, developing relationship.

i like my sebastian solace repressed and saddled w emotions

It's entirely too shameful to acknowledge, but Sebastian's grown used to your visits, amongst all the useless Urbanshade prisoners. They all tussle between each other, spouting lies or curses, being impossibly loud and disposable. They annoy him to ends that all other entities couldn't compare to. Getting rid of one or two of those pesky humans is nothing to how often they're cleared out with the Angler or the Painter.

You're not exactly like them though. It could be his possibly fractured mind's fault— never mind that, he's certain it's because of his abnormalities. Something must have twisted or wretched itself open to a wrong code, gotten all mixed up somewhere, he shouldn't be feel like this about your being. Contrary to his previous visitors, he wants you safe, when all he's done is bring the hundreds of deaths upon you and others such.

"This is entirely your fault."

This relief he feels upon hearing your voice is frustratingly familiar. He watches you crawl out the vent with a vacant smirk, silently pleased to not see or smell blood on you; you stink of rotten corals and salt water. You make it hard for him to be disgusted with you, especially with that addled spring warm voice. He shouldn't be like this, but he is; for once, he doesn't cry at the abrupt change to his self. At least it's something not monstrous.

"What happened to you this time?"

"Your stupid underwater areas." You bemoan at your oddly-tasting experience, spitting out water to the side before tugging at your strands of hair to point them out to Sebastian. Your wet suit is the least of your problems. "I'm all soaked through." You want to sleep.

As strange as that notion may be, you're entirely sure of it. Those hallways have tired you out and you're unwilling to make another fucking step ahead until you've gotten your energy back. And since there isn't a comfortable place to tuck yourself in, you'll aim for the second best. Which is, infuriatingly to the shopkeeper, Sebastian's tail.

"What do you think you're doing?"

He watches you unsurely, surprised with how boldly you throw yourself at his appendage; if it were any others human, he'd have slammed them into the ground already and shot their brains out, but it's you that does him in, staying pliantly.

"Resting, shrimpy. I'll leave when I've had my nap."

Sebastian visibly bristles at your nickname for him, squeezing you just once in warning, until he gives in to you as easily as water. You curl up against the bunched up elements of his tail without complain on the straps wrapped around them. You're exhausted, quietened down and cruelly sweet in the way you cling to him.

"Very well, but you're buying me out of stock on your next run."

Sebastian murmurs, a voice resigned to your hopeful whims. You're slippery to hold, not too pleasant of a weight, but you're almost his like this. You're almost like him, just needing a pair of fins, different lungs— although he would never in all hells subjects you to the torture he went through for those assets.

You're almost his, yet he'll always be grateful you're not. When you find out the truth about his intentions, he will certainly lose you.

#pressure #sebastian solace #reader x sebastian solace #sebastian solace x reader #sebastian solace x you #reader x character #blue

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freezerbrldes · 4 months ago

Text

onanist - s.r.

PAIRING. Vampire!Spencer x Fem!reader

SUMMARY. Overcome with intense loneliness, you seek solace from any spirit that could hear your prayers. A dark century old entity answers those prays, only his obsession with you is more than you can handle…

WARNINGS. lots of mentions of blood, biting, dom!spencer, slight somnophilia, fingering, oral (f receiving), pnv sex, spencer is extremely possessive.

AUTHOR’S NOTE. This is heavily inspired by Nosferatu (2024)! The title is from one of my favorite songs off ethel cain’s newest ep, which I listened to a lot while writing this. I’ve never written dom!spencer or anything this dark so I had some help from @primomover. She helped me get the story started and I left in a section that she wrote.

credit to @cafekitsune for dividers

wc: 2,470

also on ao3

For as long as you can recall, you’ve had this recurring dream where the most captivating and beautiful man you’ve ever seen appears in your room late at night. This man embodies all your deepest, darkest, and perverted desires, and he brings out a side of yourself that you never knew existed.

He revealed to you once that his name is Spencer Reid. You know nothing else about him, yet you’re irresistibly drawn to him.

You shouldn’t even entertain these thoughts. You were married, and you shouldn’t be dreaming about anyone except your husband. However, the enigmatic man from your dreams haunts your every waking moment.

All is quiet in your empty townhouse, save for the soothing sounds of the creaks and groans of the house settling into the night.

Your husband is away on a six-week business trip, and you can’t help but feel a mix of emotions: fear of having to face the intensity of your dreams alone, but also excitement at the possibility of giving yourself up to the darkness you so desperately craved.

As you descend into a deeper sleep, the familiar dream starts. You’re standing by the balcony door as it swings open, and the curtains sway gently in the wind. A large, dark figure enters the room, towering over you as the smell of decaying flesh fills the room.

“Why do you keep visiting me every night? Who are you?” you asked, your eyes memorizing every feature of his gorgeous face, your eyes stopping at his sharp, razor-like teeth.

Spencer chuckles at your words, his loud voice reverberating through the house, causing it to shake slightly.

“Don’t you recall me? Don’t you remember calling out for me?” He spoke, his icy fingers gently caressing your face, sending shivers down your spine.

"I do remember,” you replied. “I prayed to the Lord to end my solitude." I said gently. "To send me an angel."

"Is that what I am? An angel?" He asked. As cold as his lips were, his breath set you on fire.

You looked at him - his eyes seemed to glow as they looked at your supple flesh.

"I fear you are not." You told him. He let out a huff of a laugh.

"What is to say l am not an angel that was cast out by an unforgiving god?" He swept you around in a twirl, one arm keeping your waist pulled tight against his.

“No,” you replied, your voice trembling not out of fear, but with an overwhelming sense of desire. “You are something far more sinister than a fallen angel.”

His laughter turned into a low, menacing chuckle as he spun you back around, pinning you against the wall with his body.

"Darker?" He repeated, his voice dripping with seduction and danger. "Perhaps... but you find yourself drawn to it, don't you?" His hands roamed down your sides, fingers trailing along the curves of your hips and thighs.

"This darkness within me, it stirs something primal inside you," he whispered, his breath hot against your skin. "A desire to be consumed, to surrender to the shadows."

He leaned in closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear.

"And I will devour you whole, my child. Body and soul." His words sent shivers down your spine, both from fear and exhilaration.

You knew you should resist, but the pull towards this dark, mysterious being was too strong to ignore.

Spencer could sense your hesitation, and rage began to grow in his mind as he imagined you in your husband’s arms.

Spencer's grip on your hips tightened ever so slightly, his fingers digging into your flesh as if trying to anchor you in place. He sensed your inner turmoil, the conflict between your loyalty to your husband and the forbidden attraction you felt for him.

"You struggle with the chains of convention," he murmured, his voice a hypnotic whisper. "The societal expectations that bind you. But here, with me, those constraints fall away."

One hand slid up your side, tracing the curve of your waist and coming to rest just below your ribcage. His touch was electric, sending sparks of pleasure through your veins despite the warning bells ringing in your mind.

"You can be free," he breathed, his lips grazing the sensitive skin behind your ear. "Free to indulge in the depths of your own desires, without judgment or repercussions. All you need to do is give in to me."

His touch ignited a wildfire within you, the flames of passion consuming every shred of resistance. You found yourself arching into him, craving more of that intoxicating sensation.

"You make it so easy to abandon all reason," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "To surrender to the temptation..."

Spencer chuckled darkly, the sound sending chills down your spine.

"It's almost... sad, really. So much potential wasted on trivial matters like vows and duty,” He says, his hand reached up to tangle in your hair, pulling your head back to expose the vulnerable column of your throat.

“Don't you see, my dear? I'm offering you liberation from the shackles of mortality itself. Eternal life, unbridled pleasure, unending ecstasy." He licked a stripe up your neck, leaving a trail of cool fire in his wake.

Spencer's teeth grazed your pulse point, making you gasp. The threat of pain mingled with the promise of rapture, leaving you dizzy with longing.

"Liberation?" you echoed, your mind reeling with the implications. To be free of the burdens that weighed you down, to embrace everything that brought you deep shame.

"Yes," Spencer purred, his breath hot against your skin. "Freedom from the mundane, the ordinary. A chance to explore the depths of your own depravity, to dance with the darkness within."

His hand slid lower, cupping your sex through the fabric of your nightgown. Even the thin barrier couldn't conceal the heat emanating from your core.

"All you need to do is say yes," he coaxed, his thumb rubbing slow circles over your clit. "Give yourself to me, and I'll show you pleasures beyond your wildest dreams."

Without a second thought, your lips collided with his in a passionate, messy kiss. The back of your knees hit the bed as he pushes you onto it, quickly moving onto of you.

Spencer's mouth claimed yours with ruthless hunger, his tongue delving deep to stake its claim. The kiss was bruising, demanding, a declaration of ownership. He drank in your moans, relishing the taste of your submission.

As he ravaged your lips, his hands roamed your body with increasing boldness. He palmed your breasts, thumbs teasing the hardened nipples through the fabric of your nightgown. Then, with a swift motion, he tore the garment open.

"You're mine now," he growled against your mouth, breaking the kiss only to gaze at you with predatory intensity. "Every inch of you belongs to me."

Without waiting for a response, he dipped his head to capture a pert nipple between his teeth, sucking hard enough to make you cry out. His free hand slipped beneath your panties, fingers finding the damp heat of your arousal.

Spencer's touch ignited a frenzy of desire within you, each stroke of his fingers pushing you closer to the edge. You writhed against him, desperate for more friction, more pressure.

"Please," you whimpered, your hips bucking involuntarily as he toyed with your clit. "I need- I need you inside me."

Spencer's eyes flashed with triumph, his grip on your thigh tightening.

"Such eagerness," he purred, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "But first, I want to taste you."

With a fluid motion, he sank to his knees, yanking your panties down your legs. Before you could protest, he buried his face between your thighs, his tongue lapping at your slick folds with reckless abandon.

The sensations were overwhelming— the heat of his breath, the firm pressure of his lips, the feeling of his sharp teeth grazing your sensitive skin.

Spencer's ministrations drove you wild, each lap of his tongue sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. You threaded your fingers through his hair, holding him close as he feasted on your essence.

"Mmm, you taste divine," he murmured against your flesh, his words vibrating against your clit and making you quiver. "So sweet, I could devour you forever."

He pushes two fingers inside of you, curling them against your g-spot as he suckled your clit with renewed vigor. The coil of tension within you wound tighter and tighter, until finally, you shattered.

Your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave, waves of ecstasy washing through you as you cried out his name. Spencer rode out your climax with his mouth, prolonging your pleasure until you collapsed against the bed, panting and spent.

Spencer removes his clothing before returning to his rightful place on top of you.

His naked form pressed against yours, the chill of his skin a stark contrast to the feverish heat of your own. He nuzzled into the crook of your neck, his teeth scraping lightly over the delicate flesh as he whispered in a husky murmur.

"I've waited an eternity for this moment, my love. For the chance to claim you, to make you mine forevermore."

His hands roamed your body, mapping the curves and contours with reverent touch. He cupped your breasts, thumbs flicking over the stiff peaks as he lavished attention on your sensitive skin.

"You're exquisite," he breathed, his lips trailing kisses along your jawline. "A masterpiece crafted just for me, and soon, I'll sink my teeth into your tender flesh and drink in your life force, binding us together for all time."

Spencer's words sent shivers down your spine, the promise of his bite igniting a thrill of fear and excitement. You knew what would happen if he took your blood- the eternal bond, the loss of your mortal self.

And yet, as he positioned himself between your thighs, the head of his cock nudging at your entrance, you found yourself craving that very fate. Craving the completeness, the utter possession, that only he could offer.

"Take me," you whispered, arching your back to meet his hips. "Make me yours, forever and always."

Spencer's eyes gleamed with triumph as he sheathed himself inside you in one smooth stroke. He paused for a moment, savoring the tight heat enveloping him, before beginning to move.

Spencer set a relentless pace, driving into you with powerful, precise strokes. Each thrust hit that sweet spot deep within, sending sparks of pleasure racing up your spine. Your nails dug into his shoulders as you clung to him, lost in the intoxicating rhythm of his thrusts.

"You feel incredible," he groaned, his breath hot against your ear. "So tight, so wet. As if you were made for me alone."

He angled his hips, reaching even deeper, and you felt your walls flutter around him in response. The sensation was overwhelming, bordering on pain, but you craved it, needed it to consume you whole.

"Yes, harder!" you shouted, wrapping your legs around his waist. "Fuck me like you own me!"

Spencer's grip tightened, his fingers digging into your flesh as he complied with your demand. His lips trailed down your neck, biting slightly as he drew blood, licking it off of your delicate skin as he moans at the taste.

Spencer's fangs pierced your skin, sinking deep to draw forth a trickle of crimson lifeblood. He groaned in rapture as the metallic flavor danced on his tongue, the primal urge to feed overwhelming him.

But he held back, content for now to simply savor the taste of you. His tongue swirled around the wound, lapping up every precious drop before sealing the punctures with a gentle kiss.

“You taste divine,” his voice thick with desire. "Let me have a little taste of your essence. It's addictive."

He rocked into you harder, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. "Soon, I'll take more than just a sip."

Spencer's thrusts grew more erratic, his control slipping as the hunger for your blood intensified. You felt his sharp teeth sink into the skin in between your breasts. He drank deeply from the fresh wound.

The taste of you was sublime, headier than any wine or drug. He couldn't get enough. He swallowed greedily, his eyes rolling back in bliss as he savored each mouthful.

"You're mine now, body and soul," he declared, his voice low and menacing as his mouth returns to your chest, drinking the thick crimson fluid.

You moan out in both pleasure and pain, feeling disoriented from the loss of blood. Your hands tangle into his hair, holding his head in place as he continues to drink.

Spencer kept feeding, each pull at your veins dragging you closer to the edge of consciousness. But still, you held him against your chest, unwilling to break the contact.

He pulled away, a faint line of blood tracing his lips, you felt dizzy, lightheaded. Your vision blurred at the edges, the room spinning around you. But through it all, you clung to him, your body thrumming with a newfound energy, a vitality that bordered on the supernatural.

"More," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "Keep feeding."

Spencer's eyes glowed with an unholy light as he smiled, revealing his razor-sharp fangs. "Anything for you, my love," he purred, already descending upon your neck once more.

Spencer's fangs sank deeper, tearing open new pathways for his insatiable thirst. With each swallow, he felt your essence coursing through his veins, amplifying his strength, his speed, his very being.

His hips pistoned forward with renewed vigor, pounding into you with ruthless intensity. The bed creaked beneath them, the headboard slamming against the wall with each brutal thrust.

"You're mine," he growled, his voice a guttural snarl. "All mine. Forever and always."

He could feel your climax building, your inner walls clenching around him like a vice. With a final, savage bite, he sent you hurtling over the edge.

Your orgasm triggered Spencer’s, the rhythmic contractions of your pussy pushed him over the edge as he buried himself to the hilt, spilling deeply within you as he drank the last of your blood.

He collapsed atop you, his weight pressing you into the mattress. Spencer lifted his head to gaze down at you. His eyes, once a vivid hazel, had darkened to an almost black hue, his face and chest completely covered in your blood.

You were too weak to move. Lying helplessly on the bed, you watched Spencer stare down at you with a wicked grin on his face.

You tried desperately to wake yourself up from this dream, but as you began losing consciousness you realized this wasn’t a dream anymore.

The last thing you hear is Spencer’s maniacal laughter echoing in your ears…

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid smut #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds #ethel cain

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himasgod · 5 months ago

Text

Where they see your sh scars

Ch: Scaramouche, Kinich, Heizou and Lyney.

CW: 700 per character

TG: It's been a long time since I last wrote, sorry! I've been very busy with my studies lately, and I'll continue to be, but I hope to get back to my activity! Regarding this, there have been many people who have asked me for help in requests, and as I usually say in this type of request, you are not alone. Ask for help if you are going through a bad time. Even if you see it as dark, there are people, entities, associations, laws… protecting you. You will be able to get through this, and when you do, the scars will be nothing more than memories of your bravery that will heal little by little.

Scaramouche

The wind blew hard in the cold night, rustling the branches of the dry trees around you.

You stood in front of him, your body rigid with tension, as the dim moonlight illuminated Scaramouche’s porcelain unchanging face. His expression was the same as ever: an impenetrable mask of disdain mixed with indifference. But his eyes, dark and heavy with repressed emotions, stared at you as if he was trying to decipher a riddle he couldn’t solve.

You had made the mistake of carelessly rolling down your sleeves.

Now he knew.

“What are those marks?”

His sharp voice broke the silence, chilling your blood.

“It’s none of your business.”

You took a step back, clutching your arms to your chest as if you could protect yourself from his piercing gaze. But you knew it was useless. Scaramouche was a master at dismantling defenses, at ripping out the most painful truths without an ounce of mercy.

“Answer me.” He took a step toward you, his tone lower, but no less menacing.

“Why do you care?” you shot back, trying to stand your ground, though your voice trembled.

He stopped just a step away from you, his eyes boring into yours. There was something beyond the usual anger in his gaze: something he couldn’t or wouldn’t name.

“I don’t care,” he lied, with that biting sarcasm he used to hide any vulnerability. “I just want to know if you’re lying to me. If you’re weaker than I thought.”

The wound his words left was immediate, like a knife wound to your chest. You clenched your fists, your nails digging into the palms of your hands as you tried to hold back tears.

“Is that what you think? That I’m weak because… because I hurted myself?”

“Aren't you?” He replied cruelly, but there was something broken in his voice.

“You have no idea what I’ve been through!” you screamed, your words filled with rage and pain. “You have no idea what it feels like to live with the weight of not being enough, of feeling like nothing matters! You have no right to judge me!”

He recoiled slightly, surprised by the intensity of your words. But he didn’t respond.

He couldn’t.

“You know what, Scaramouche? Maybe I am weak,” you continued, your voice breaking. “But at least I’m brave enough to admit it. And you? How long are you going to keep hiding behind that mask, pretending you don’t feel anything, that you don’t care about anyone?”

The silence stretched between the two of you, so thick you could almost hear your heartbeat.

Finally, Scaramouche looked away.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I know more than you think.”

He looked at you again, this time without the barrier of his sarcasm. There was something raw in his expression, something you had never seen before: fear.

Not for you, but for what you meant to him.

“Those scars,” he murmured finally, his voice barely audible, “make me remember that I can’t protect you. I can’t even protect myself.”

Your eyes filled with tears as you moved closer to him, ignoring the urge to keep your distance.

“I don’t need you to protect me, Scaramouche. I just need you to be here. To let me be with you, even when it hurts.”

He didn’t respond, but when you took his hand, he didn’t pull away. His fingers were cold, but they held onto yours with a desperate strength.

“Maybe we’re both broken,” you whispered. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t find some peace together.”

Scaramouche closed his eyes, letting out a shaky breath. He didn't say anything else, but in that moment, you knew that, even though it was hard, he wasn't going to let you go.

Kinich

The jungle was silent, save for the crackling of the campfire and the distant echo of some nocturnal saurian.

Kinich sat across from you, his claymore resting to one side. He wasn’t sharpening it this time; he was simply watching you, his gaze fixed on your nervous movements. You had been silent all night, the sleeves of your robe pulled down to cover your hands, as if you wanted to disappear beneath the fabric.

“Are you going to keep staring at me or say something?” you blurted, your voice higher than you intended.

He didn’t answer right away. His eyes narrowed, studying you with that irritating calm that seemed unfazed. Finally, he spoke.

“Why are you hiding it?”

The air stopped in your lungs.

Your hands shook slightly as you clenched your sleeves, as if by doing so you could erase what you knew he had seen.

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

Kinich leaned forward, his movements deliberately slow. His fingers, rough from years of hunting and surviving, caught your wrist before you could pull away. The fabric of your sleeve gave way, exposing the scars that marked your skin like a map of old and new pain.

“Of this,” he said quietly, his tone devoid of judgment, but filled with something you couldn’t quite place.

“Let me go!” you struggled, your voice cracking in the attempt to sound strong.

“No.”

The firmness of his response disarmed you. There was no anger in his tone, no pity. But no softness either. It was as if he were confronting you, forcing you to see something you’d been avoiding for too long.

“What do you want me to say?” you blurted, tears threatening to spill over. “That I did it because I couldn’t take it anymore? That each of these scar is a reminder of how little I’m worth? How broken I am? Is that what you wanted to hear?”

Kinich didn’t look away for a second. His grip on your wrist didn’t loosen, but it wasn’t aggressive either.

He was holding you back, yes, but not to hurt you, but to make sure you didn’t run away from this conversation.

“What I want,” he said, his voice deeper, almost like a growl, “is for you to stop talking about yourself like you’re less than nothing. Because you’re not.”

“And what do you know?” you screamed, the pent-up pain bursting out in every word. “You weren’t there! You don’t know what it feels like to live with this weight, this shit on your head every day! You don’t know what it feels like to want to disappear because nothing matters and no one notices, because no one stops you…”

“I noticed,” he interrupted, his tone sharp as a leaf.

The silence fell between the two of you, so heavy you could barely breathe. Tears finally fell, hot and treacherous, as you dropped to your knees in front of him.

“Why can’t you just ignore it like everyone else?” You whispered, your voice cracking.

Kinich let go of your wrist, only to slide his rough hands up to your shoulders. He forced you to lift your head, to look into his eyes.

“Because I’m not everyone else. Because when I see this,” he said, pointing to your scars, “I don’t see someone weak. I see someone who fought against herself and is here, breathing, alive. That’s not weakness. That’s strength.”

“I don’t feel strong…” you confessed between sobs.

“It doesn’t matter how you feel right now,” he said firmly, “because I know. And if I have to stay by your side until you understand, I will. But don’t ever say that you don’t matter, because to me, you matter more than my own life.”

The weight of his words fell on you like an avalanche. You couldn’t respond, you couldn’t say anything. You could only cry as he wrapped you in his arms, holding you as if he was afraid you would fade away.

And for the first time in a long time, you didn't feel like you were alone in the battle.

Heizou

It was early morning, and the dim light of dawn was beginning to filter through the cracks in the windows.

You sat at the table in his small office, watching as Heizou flipped through some reports with that carefree smile he always seemed to have. But tonight something was different. His smile didn’t reach his eyes, and the air between you was thick with a tension you couldn’t quite explain.

“You know,” he began, his tone casual as he closed the report, “I have a theory.”

Your heart instantly sank. That phrase, which normally meant he was about to dazzle you with his intelligence, this time filled you with irrational fear.

“Oh yeah? What kind of theory?” you tried to sound carefree, but your voice trembled slightly.

Heizou didn’t respond right away. Instead, he stood up from his chair and slowly approached you, his eyes locked on yours. His gaze, always shrewd, was now deeper, as if he was seeing something you were desperately trying to hide.

“A theory about you,” he finally said, his voice soft but heavy with intent.

You tried to laugh, but it sounded forced.

“What about me? I’m not interesting enough for a great detective to waste time analyzing my life.”

“No?” His smile faded, revealing a seriousness he rarely displayed. “Then explain this to me.”

Before you could react, he grabbed your wrist carefully but firmly, lifting your sleeve to reveal the scars you had tried to hide.

The air left your lungs as you tried to pull your arm away, but Heizou didn’t let you. Not roughly, but with unwavering determination.

“Why, my love?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper, but the weight of his words unbearable.

“It’s… it’s not what it seems,” you stammered, though you both knew it was a lie.

“It’s not what it seems?” he repeated, his tone firmer now. “Then explain to me, because I see someone who carries more pain than she should carry alone.”

Your throat closed up, and tears began to pool in your eyes. You tried to look away, but Heizou leaned in close, his expression filled with a mix of pain and concern that completely disarmed you.

“You can’t solve this, Heizou,” you murmured, your voice cracking. “It’s not a case you can close with a brilliant theory or a perfect deduction.”

“Maybe not,” he admitted, letting go of your wrist to gently take your hand. “But I’m not going to stand by while you wallow in this.”

“Why do you care so much?” you cried, your emotions finally spilling over. “You have no idea what this feels like! You can’t just come into my life and fix everything like you’re a hero!”

“You think I’m trying to be a hero?” His voice rose, but not in anger, but in a desperation he rarely showed. “I’m not a hero, but you're my girlfriend. And I’m also not someone who can ignore the fact that the person I love is hurting.”

His words hit you like a bolt of lightning. You tried to say something, anything, but tears were already streaming down your cheeks.

“I don’t understand why you do this,” you finally murmured, your voice barely audible. “I’m not… I’m not enough.”

Heizou let out a deep sigh, leaning in even closer until his forehead touched yours.

“You are enough. You always have been. But you have to let me be here for you. I can’t promise that everything will be easy, but I’m not going to leave. No matter how hard you try to push me away.”

His words, spoken with such honesty, broke through the barriers you had built around your heart. And in that moment, as he held you, you felt something you hadn't felt in a long time: hope.

Lyney

The theater tent was empty, the only sound being the faint echo of your footsteps on the wood.

Lyney stood in the center of the stage, under the dim light of a lantern that barely illuminated his silhouette. There was something unusually tense about his posture, as if the charismatic and self-assured magician you knew had vanished, leaving only a boy burdened with silences.

You watched him from a distance, your long sleeves hiding the marks you had learned to conceal all too well.

But this time, he had noticed.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” His voice broke the silence, but it wasn’t filled with the usual sweetness he used to captivate crowds. It sounded broken, as if each word cost him more than he wanted to admit.

“Tell you what?” you tried to dodge, your tone defensive.

Lyney turned to you, his gaze trapping you as if you were part of one of his tricks. But this time there was no play in his eyes, only a mix of hurt and frustration that disarmed you.

“Don’t play with me, love.” He took a step towards you, and you instinctively recoiled. “I saw your arms.”

The air seemed to stop.

You had been careless, you knew it.

But you never thought Lyney, always busy with his illusions and shows, would notice.

“It’s not what you think,” you murmured, though you both knew it was a lie.

“Oh, no?” His voice rose slightly, laden with a desperation he rarely showed. “Then explain it to me. Explain to me why someone like you, someone who lights up my life more than any spotlight, feels like she has to…”

He trailed off, unable to get the words out.

“Why do you care?” you blurted out, your voice shaking as you fought to maintain control. “You only show what you want others to see. Why can’t you let me do the same?”

Lyney clenched his fists, his jaw tight as he tried to maintain his composure. But you could see his perfect facade beginning to crack.

“Because it’s not a trick.” He took another step towards you, his eyes shining with something you couldn’t quite place. “This isn’t a show. You can’t just hide behind a curtain and hope it all goes away. I’m not going to disappear!”

“But I should!” you cried, your voice cracking as tears began to run down your cheeks. “You should disappear like everyone else. Because no matter how hard you try to fix it, I’m always going to be broken.”

Lyney looked at you, and for a moment, you thought he was going to back away, that he was going to let you sink into the abyss you’d built around yourself. But instead, he crossed the distance between the two of you in one step and took your hands, pulling at the sleeves that hid the scars.

“Broken?” He murmured, his voice now barely a whisper. His fingers brushed the marks on your skin with a gentleness that almost broke you completely. “Is that what you think?”

“I don’t know what else to be…” you began, but your voice trailed off when he looked up.

“No.” His tone was firm, as if he were uttering a spell. “You are not broken. You are strong, even if you don’t see it. And if I have to remind you of that every day, I will.”

“Why?” you sobbed, unable to understand why someone like him, bright and full of life, would want to be burdened with someone like you.

“Because I love you.”

The words came out unvarnished, without tricks or artifice. It was the rawest truth Lyney had ever spoken, and it hit you with an intensity that took your breath away.

“I am not what you deserve,” you whispered, trying to pull away, but he held you tighter.

“Maybe you’re not,” he said with a bitter smile, his own vulnerability reflected in his eyes. “But I’m not what others think I am either. We both wear masks, my dear. The difference is that I want to take them off with you.”

And with those words, Lyney hugged you, holding you as if you were the only reality in a world full of illusions.

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angel-of-the-moons · 1 year ago

Text

Chocolates vs Aliens

Eddie/Venom x Pregnant!Fem!Reader

TW/CW: Fluff, details of pregnancy , childbirth mentions. Venom loves babies! This! Is! A hill! I will die on!

A/N: The winners of the poll! I'll do the Moon Boys next! Also okay its not a drabble but enjoy this hot word vomit asdfghjkl idk should I make a part 2??

🍫🍫🍫🍫🍫🍫🍫🍫🍫🍫

"SHE IS OUT OF CHOCOLATE?!" Venom's voice boomed inside his head.

"Relax, buddy, we can hit up the 7/11 down the street." Eddie scoffed, adjusting his wireless earbud. Thankfully it looked like he was on the phone, so he could talk freely to Venom without anyone thinking he was insane.

And well, he kind of was, a tiny bit.

Just a tad...

"BUT I CAN SMELL IT!" The symbiote whined childishly as Eddie scooped the frozen egg rolls into the wiry basket looped over his arms.

"Yeah yeah, I know. Mrs Chen could have eaten the last one, Vee. Just chill. How about some chocolate ice cream?" Eddie grinned at the pun.

"No! We always get brain freezes!" He entity huffed.

"Because you scarf down the whole tub in one go." Eddie chuckled.

Venom grumbled again, and a tendril snaked out from beneath Eddie's sweater and dropped a box of brownie mix into the basket. "Fine. I can settle with these."

"Whatever you say, love, but you're helping me bake the shit." The man shrugged in reply as he remembered to grab a carton of milk. He'd need some eggs, too... Well, at least his landlord let him move the chicken coop to the roof in exchange for some free eggs.

Those chickens were fat and spoiled, and Venom loved the little critters dearly, which Eddie always found humorous. Now, whenever Eddie made the joke of turning them into KFC, Venom would be aghast and headbutt him, citing that Sonny and Cher were his "babies".

He'd been talking like that a lot lately, Eddie realized. Venom apparently had a paternal streak in him. Eddie noticed that as well when Venom would find homeless kids or runaways, helping them and trying to seem as non-threatening as possible, even going as far as to change his fangs so they were blunt. (One of the kids assured him that was far creepier than the monster fangs, which made Eddie nearly keel over in laughter...)

"Deal." Venom purred happily, the tendril receding back to slip beneath Eddie's shirt and wrap around him like a hug.

"Alright, alright." Eddie chuckled, grabbing an extra box just in case as he walked around the shelves, sparing a glance at his phone to check the time.

"Eddie." Venom's voice said.

"What?" Eddie lifted his gaze, feeling Venom's haste flood him and put him on alert.

His eyes trailed the store until he landed on the checkout counter, where you were sitting. Not Mrs Chen, but cute, innocent, blissful you.

You were happily munching on a chocolate bar, one of the very ones Venom wanted. It would seem you had claimed it, eating the sugary morsel happily.

"Oh." Eddie mumbled.

He felt it as Venom seized control of his legs suddenly, sending him forward in jerking motions until he practically ran into the counter, making you jump in surprise.

"Oh! Sorry!" He smiled awkwardly, a faint blush to his cheeks.

'Venom, quit it! I'll get you chocolate later!' He said mentally to the alien inhabiting his body.

"No, Eddie. Wait."

"I, ah... Got a bit sidetracked and tripped over my feet." He added.

You smiled at him, "Oh, god. Yeah, I feel you. Lately it's like dragging my heels through wet cement." You chuckled.

Huh. You were... God, you were cute. He could tell even Venom thought so. With your cute fluffy turtleneck and your hair all done, your cheeks nice and rosy from the blush you'd applied.

Which... brought up the question.

"I've never seen you 'round here before." Eddie commented. "Mrs Chen is usually the only person I see in here..."

"Oh! I'm new in town, I live just down and street and she saw my situation and offered me a part-time here. I have a work from home job and everything, but ugh, just staying cooped up inside is so boring!" You say the last part with a groan.

"Damn, would've been nice if she offered me that job a couple years ago." Eddie chuckled.

You giggled a bit at him and looked at his basket, "Is that all for ya, hon?"

"Oh, yeah!" Eddie said, carefully organizing the things onto the glass counter. His eyes flicked to the candy bar you were still steadily breaking pieces off of.

"Bit of a sweet tooth, huh?" He teased.

"Ugh, god... lately? Yes! The craving for it has been absolute hell." You sigh exhaustedly. "Almost everything in my apartment is chocolate flavored or scented now!"

"... Cravings?" Eddie echoed, raising a thick brow.

"Okay, I know what you're thinking and no. It's not "that time of the month" like your brain is probably saying." You snort.

Eddie watches as your hand trails down to your midsection and you pat your belly beneath the plush fabric of your sweater, where a gentle swell stood out a bit more prominently as you smooth the fabric taut over your stomach.

"I just have a certain little jellybean who thinks they can dictate what mama wants to eat all the time. And apparently, chocolate is what's on the menu for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. And... in between." You chuckle.

"OH." Eddie and Venom thought in unison.

"That's why she smells like that!" Venom barked, realizing the underlying scent of chocolate on you was laced with something else. Hormones. He was picking up on those, too.

"Oh! Uh, congrats!" Eddie said, clearing his throat awkwardly. "I'm sure you and your, uh, partner are probably super happy, huh?"

"Oh, no, it's just me." You smiled with a hum, taking another little sweet square between your lips.

Eddie's brow furrowed. "What?"

"Okay, so I'm not gonna be rude, but I will explain." You snicker. You seemed infinitely patient and polite about the subject. Apparently this very thing must be a common occurrence with you, that random people must constantly ask this same question, and how tiring it surely must be to answer it again and again...

"No, I don't have a partner, husband, or anything. No daddy."

Eddie awkwardly pointed to your belly. "Then how did y'know... that get in there?"

Eddie controlled the flinch he wanted to make when Venom pinched him. "You did NOT just call her baby a THAT!"

"Yeah, yeah I know. But there's something everyone forgets, and that it doesn't always "take two to tango"." You smile at him again, ringing up his items with one hand, chocolate still clutched firmly in another.

"I decided that I wanted to be a mom. But I didn't want to just go out and get pregnant willy nilly. I have a good job, steady income. But I don't have time to date and there's always the concern that I'd be left a single parent if whoever I was with decided parenthood wasn't for them, y'know?"

Eddie nodded patiently as he and Venom listened to you with rapt attention.

"I went to a fertility clinic, did what the doctor said, then had my egg fertilized with a sperm donor. And then boom," You point to your belly. "Jellybean."

"Oh, that... Yeah okay I forget fertility clinics are a thing." Eddie laughed, shaking his head.

"Well I'm glad you're so open-minded about it!" You grin. "Most people judge me and go "oh your baby needs a father!" and the ever so classic "you don't even know who the father is?" line."

Eddie frowned, and he could tell even Venom was irritated on your behalf. "You don't need to have a partner or spouse to raise a baby. Seriously. What is this, the 1940s?"

"I knoooow!" You giggle again. "And besides! I can support me and my baby just fine, and I'm already happy and so far the pregnancy has been a breeze!"

Eddie could feel a tugging sensation from Venom. The symbiote was curious, and wanted to touch. But Eddie knew that was not only rude as hell, but to some people, socially unacceptable if you don't know the person or ask permission first.

"How uh, far along are you?"

"I just hit my second trimester." You chirp proudly, patting your belly. "The baby's tiny, but I'm finally showing, now."

"Ohhh." Eddie snapped his fingers. "Hence "jellybean", right?"

"Yes!" You laugh.

Eddie pulled out his card and swiped it to pay for the groceries. "It's a cute nickname. Have you thought of any names yet?"

Your brain did a record scratch, and Eddie could see the look on your face.

Nope. Not at all.

You hadn't thought of a damn one. Especially because you didn't know the sex of your baby yet.

"Uh...."

Eddie started snickering at your expression, "Ahhh. My bad." He shoots you a cocky grin, "If I can recommend a name, Eddie is a pretty strong one!"

"Weak." Venom mocked.

"Eddie?" You echo, blinking.

"Oh, don't listen to him, girl." Mrs Chen snorted as she walked up to you two, whacking Eddie with a rolled up newspaper. "This boy is nothing but trouble!"

Her words were jabbing, but not spoken without affection, so you could tell they had a history together.

"Ow! Hey!" Eddie pouted, rubbing the top of his head.

"Oh please, I'd need to shoot this out of a cannon to dent that hard head of yours!" She huffed with a smirk, crossing her arms.

She tilted her head and noticed the candy bar in your hand, and made the mental connection with Eddie and Venom. Riiiiiight. Venom needed chocolate. Mrs Chen tossed it to you when you started scrolling through your phone for door dash orders for chocolate cakes from local restaurants to sate your cravings.

"Oh, right. Sorry about your chocolate fix." Mrs Chen replied, her gum smacking softly. "Gave the lady one to help ease her stomach."

The flush to your cheeks made Eddie smile as you looked at the candy in your hand. "I'm sorry!" You sputtered.

"Hey, man, you got a baby in you. You can't exactly tell the little, uh.... eh. The little person they can't have it?" Eddie struggled. He wasn't sure how the whole cravings thing worked, honestly. Would you indeed cry if he didn't accept your offer? Would your baby get hungry? Was that a thing? He knew jack and shit about babies in general, man.

"Pff, moron."

'Parasite.'

"I AM NOT A PARASITE!"

"Oh, I know but uh..." You say, your eyelashes fluttering as you think, looking from Eddie to the bar in your hand. You decided to finish breaking off the pieces you were working on, and extend your hand giving the rest to Eddie. "Here! I'm good, if I need more I can nab some from the gas station down the street."

"Oh! Uh... I don't wanna, y'know. Take anything from you and your baby." Eddie said, waving his hands.

"Eddie, if you refuse to take it, she could cry." Mrs Chen teased. "You don't want to make a pregnant woman cry do you?"

Eddie's face was hilarious as panic started to bubble up within him as he looked from you, to your outstretched hand, to Mrs Chen, who stood as proud as can be at the chaos she had just sewn.

"Hey! I'm not that hormonal!" You retort to the older lady. But... you deflate a tiny bit. "...Okay, well not yet but still!"

Eddie was still going through the moral dilemma of accepting the kind gesture vs taking candy from a literal baby in somebody's womb.

Venom made the choice for him, extending our Eddie's hand and letting him take it.

"I, uh... Thanks." Eddie blabbered quickly.

"Now let's go home before you make an idiot out of us further." Venom cackled gleefully at the socially awkward situation.

Eddie grabbed the plastic bags and gave an awkward wave and a smile before skittering out of the store with his tail between his legs.

"Geez, he needs to get laid once in a while." Mrs Chen scoffed, going over to check inventory.

You barely had a moment to collect yourself, stopping before you laughed so hard you peed yourself.

That was the first time you and Eddie ever met. It would not be the last.

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Eddie shopped at Mrs Chen's place pretty regularly, her prices were easy on the wallet and she was close by to he and Venom's apartment.

You steadily built up a rapport with Eddie over the next two or three weeks. Venom was inexplicably drawn to you, wanting to constantly convince Eddie to touch your belly.

Eddie kept reminding him that it was frankly rude as shit to do that, and that hell, it would probably make you uncomfortable.

Not long after that, Eddie and Venom discovered--to Venom's utter glee--thay you lived in the same building, the apartment just above his. They found this out when Venom insisted on making sure you made it home after your shift at Mrs Chen's ended, knowing how vulnerable a pregnant lady looked to crooks and criminals.

Twice Venom caught and ate the brains of lowlifes who tried stalking you.

Venom, despite you not knowing of his existence, was fiercely protective of you. And... well he liked you. They liked you.

Eddie hated how quickly both he and Venom became infatuated with you, listening to you talk about your baby, your cravings... They could tell you were lonely despite your cheerful demeanor. Yes, Eddie and Venom had each other already, but they quickly thought about adding you to the mix.

But again, you didn't know about the alien slime monster living inside of Eddie. That subject would have to definitely wait...

He would check on you, leaning his head out his window on occasion to talk to you as you looked up, it brightened up the monotony of your at-home life in between work, asking about how you were feeling as your pregnancy developed. He even texted you lists of different baby names and their meanings to help you out!

When he first asked you out, you were floored. You've never met a man who was interested in a woman pregnant with somebody else's baby, before. You've heard about it sure, but... You were more surprised anyone was interested in you while pregnant with some guy's baby. Let alone your cute downstairs neighbor who apparently babied his pet chickens that were kept on the rooftop.

He even introduced you to them! You didn't hold them of course, for fear of bacteria, and chuckled as he furiously disinfected himself before even coming within three feet of you, all for you and your baby's health.

A man who was sweet, considerate, caring and he loves animals? Add the looks to that bill and that was a difference you were willing to pay. How was he still single?!

But... Well. That changed after your first date, and he was glad you accepted it all.

And it wasn't long after that (several weeks actually) you discovered he wasn't, in fact, single. He didn't have a girlfriend or anything but he certainly had a partner.

Said partner... was some kind of ooze-critter that lived inside of him. And you only found this out when you came home from a late night convenience store run for some triple chocolate chunk ice cream, walked into your apartment...

And saw him.

Venom, in his hulking form, stood awkwardly in your apartment, looking like a deer trapped in headlights when you flicked your lights back on, the ice cream in your bag forgotten.

As your door slowly swung closed due to angled flooring, you opened your mouth to scream.

Venom cut you off, his massive hands shooting up and he waved them, "DON'T SCREAM!"

You snapped your mouth shut, your teeth making an audible click as your heart hammered in your chest.

"We were worried! You weren't responding to our texts or when we knocked on your door?" His deep and rumbly voice growled out.

You shudder at the timbre of his voice, eyes never once leaving the rows of jagged fangs in his maw. You drop your plastic bag and step back, covering your belly--now very prominent as you were later in your term--protectively.

That seems to... upset him? He frowned, looking at the carpet as he lowered his hands, his large eyes narrowing as he carefully thought, trying to think of ways to alleviate the fear bubbling through you.

He took a slow step towards you, like you were a frightened animal caught in a trap that he had to be gentle with, lest you struggle or flail and get hurt.

"We were worried about you. We--" His head snapped to his left and he snarled. "Yes! "We"! You were worried, too! Don't try to say you weren't!"

You watch, in shock as he has essentially a one-sided argument with himself, getting exasperated, saying the word "love" and "dear" here and there.

You stayed, scared, until the ugly sensation of your nausea reared its ugly head and you dropped the plastic bag, literally shoving past this gigantic creature in a mad dash to your bathroom or you were gonna blow chunks right then and there.

You didn't even shut the door before you collapsed to your knees, hugging the bowl as you heaved the contents of your digestive system into the pearly white porcelain, leaving what could only be the Venom, the creature that supposedly stalked your city eating people, in your living room.

By the end of the nausea fit, your eyes were watery, your nose was runny and your face blotched with color, the whites of your eyes glassy from the strain. You felt lightheaded and dizzy as you rinsed your mouth with water right from the tap, gargling and spitting until the foul acidic taste went away.

You felt your now empty stomach growl and your first instinct was to go get food and eat again, to replenish the energy you just spent hurling everything you ate that day.

But then you remembered...

The big guy.

You didn't have any sort of object to wield as a weapon, so you merely sheepishly peeked around the corner, watching as the creature called Venom gingerly moved about your kitchen, things that looked like tentacles reaching out and grabbing a cup, some ice, and a can of ginger ale from your fridge and pour it into the cup; all the while making a sandwich. Nutella with your banana/mango spread. A favorite you'd started to enjoy in the past week.

But the only person you ever told that to was...

You froze when he turned around, locking eyes with you as he set the food on your breakfast island, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck.

"We... We know that you're probably hungry after... So we figured..." He said, gesturing vaguely to the food and drink in front of him.

"How do you know..." You breathed.

His colossal shoulders heave as he sighed, walking around the island and over to you, stopping just a mere few feet away.

"Promise not to be mad? Or scream?"

You weren't sure why in the hell he asked you that, but you felt already too far gone into shock to really argue. Plus, throwing up took all urges to scream from your poor sore throat.

So, you nodded.

"Okay."

You watched as the strange black goo peels back layer by slinking layer, until a man is revealed beneath.

But it's not just any man.

It's fucking Eddie. Your neighbor-turned-recent-boyfriend.

"You--!"

"We can explain! Just please, please don't be mad at us!" Eddie winced.

You felt another dizzy spell start to hit at this revelation. "How long--"

"A few years. Look, we planned on telling you. It's just... not tonight. When you didn't answer my texts or calls, I got worried and..." He sighed.

You watched as Venom's head moved out from behind Eddie's shoulder to peer at you, the thick black goo that made up the appendage holding his head up moving almost like water. He offered you a smile, and part of you wished that'd solve the tension in the air, to assuage your increasing confusion. But sadly, it didn't.

"Vee didn't want to fucking wait an extra ten minutes when you didn't answer the door and climbed through your window, which you should start locking I mean I know we're on the upper floors with no balcony or fire escape, but it's still a safety concern and with the baby--"

You interrupted Eddie's rambling. "Vee?" You echo.

"Uh--okay. That's what I call Venom when he isn't being an incorrigible shithead. Or a parasite who takes control of my body." Eddie sighed.

You almost laughed when Venom headbutted him in the side of his head.

"Stop calling me that! It's rude!" Venom snarled.

"No, what's rude is breaking into somebody's apartment!" Eddie retorted, jabbing a finger at Venom. "We talked about this!"

"You were worried, too!"

"Yes but I wasn't going to crawl through her goddamn window!"

Your eyes darted from one to the other as they started bickering like a... like a... Oh.

Yeah. It was after a two hour long conversation that Eddie told you everything. About his ex, the Life Foundation, finding Venom, fighting Riot, then the whole thing with Carnage, Venom's offspring... and of course, their actual relationship with one another, now. They argued like a married couple because they basically were one, complete with... well. You weren't ready in the current situation to imagine how the bedroom situation worked between them, yet.

You took it better than he expected. Way better.

"Honestly.... The only thing scarier than Venom is childbirth." You said, sitting next to him on the couch, your hands on your belly.

"...Eddie." you said slowly.

"Uh--yeah? What's up, sweetheart?" He asked awkwardly, Venom's eyes immediately drawn down to where your hands caressed the bump beneath your thin t shirt.

"How come you haven't asked to touch my belly yet? I'm... surprised. I've had random people come up to me and ask, but not... you."

"Wait... uh. So. You're giving... Permission?" Eddie asked, blinking his big, ridiculously lashed eyes at you.

"Well, yeah, and--"

"FINALLY!" Venom hissed.

In a black blur, Venom lurched forward over Eddie's shoulder, straight for your tummy. He pressed the side of his head against your belly, tendrils of his strange slime-like flesh wrapping around your midsection; listening to the baby's heartbeat and feeling for any movements.

Eddie meanwhile, looked equal parts horrified and embarrassed as he facepalmed, blushing all the way to his ears. "That's why. He's been fucking obsessed with you and your baby since he first realized you were pregnant."

You looked down as the symbiote cuddled you, and by extension, your baby, your jaw agape at how he was purring while he nuzzled into you.

"...That's why you're always so concerned about me?" You asked dumbly, blinking over at Eddie, who gave you an awkward smile and shrug in reply.

"Yeah, hate to break it to you, doll, but... Vee has kinda... claimed you two." He said.

"Claimed me." You repeated.

"Yeah. He has this thing... with kids?" He rolled his hand to try and think of words to describe it. "He's overprotective. He's the same with Sonny and Cher, it's just... he doesn't interact with many pregnant people so when he met you, that weird little drive kicked in. The fact that we both started feeling something for you outside of that kinda blindsided us, but..."

"So what?" Venom scoffed, resting his chin on the curve of your belly, looking up at you with a grin. "This is our baby now, and we will protect the both of you."

"Venom!" Eddie snapped.

"You claimed us?" You were having a difficult time wrapping your head around this. All of it. The whole situation in general. First your boyfriend has a boyfriend who technically isn't a boy but identifies as one because gender was a foreign concept to his species, they were together before they met you, Venom is a literal alien--

And now... was he saying...

"L-Look, I know it's early on and we haven't been dating long, but..." Eddie rubbed his sweaty palms on his faded-out jeans.

"Are you two saying... that you want to be with me? Rest of the pregnancy, birth, and all?"

The hell was your life, some kind of weird, cheap, sci-fi romance novel? The dashing, handsome alien(s) swoop in and offer to help raise your baby? What kind of parallel world were you in?

Eddie was quiet, and Venom merely stared at him, before looking back at you.

"Yes." He said. "Eddie is too much of a pussy to say it, but he likes the idea of taking care of a tiny you."

"Venom! Fuck! Stop calling me that!" Eddie snapped at the symbiote as he protectively snuggled your tummy.

Venom merely stuck his tongue out at him, "I will when you stop calling me a parasite!" He looked back up at you, giving you the best rendition he could of a hurt puppy. "Do you see how he talks to me? Despicable!"

You snorted a short laugh before you could stop yourself, and covered your mouth.

"Hah! See? She thinks I'm funny! So shut it!"

"Oh, my god, that does not count--"

"Yes it does I already won." Venom said contentedly.

"Look!" Eddie groans. "Just... We are willing to be with you. Take care of you, and help with the baby. If... you'll have us. I know this whole situation is weird, but..." Eddie trails off, looking at you hopefully.

The decision wasn't as difficult as you thought it'd be. Eddie and Venom haven't given you a reason to be afraid--other than scaring the shit out of you earlier because Venom apparently has fucking anxiety--and, well... They were so sweet, and gentle... And if Venom doting on your unborn baby currently was any indication, the affection would probably increase a hundred fold after your little bundle of joy arrived.

"Okay." You said.

All the tension seemed to drain from Eddie's body and he sighed, a relieved smile blooming on his face as he looked at you with a look in his eyes that had your heart doing a little flip in your chest.

"Thank God..." Eddie sighed happily.

Venom grinned widely at you, before shooting back to Eddie and seizing the body again, his inky black mass covering Eddie entirely.

Your couch creaked under the added weight of Venom's increased mass as he leaned over, dwarfing your whole body as he wrapped his thick, tree-trunk arms around your tinier body, nuzzling into your cheek before giving you a kiss. Thankfully no tongue, because you thought you'd probably choke if he did that.

When he pulled back, your face was flush at the boldness of his actions, and looked up at him as his opalescent eyes narrowed sweetly down at you.

But something Venom said clicked into your brain, finally, once it rebooted from the kiss.

"Venom, you said you two wouldn't mind helping raise a tiny me." You began. "But I don't know if I'm having a boy or girl, yet."

"Oh, we can." Venom grinned. "I could tell when I was holding onto you. It was easy."

"What?!" You sputter.

"You're having a little girl, by the way."

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You booked an appointment two weeks later. And damn, Venom was right. You were having a girl! At least the naming situation was easier, now that you narrowed down the sex.

Many people said you and Eddie were moving fast, but you ignored them because they didn't know the real situation. Your apartment was bigger, two rooms, one for you (and now Eddie and Venom) and the other was the nursery for the baby.

Eddie was affectionate, but Venom was downright clingy. He was almost always wrapped around your belly in some way or another, purring as he used his weird slimy body to massage you. He helped with your back strain surprisingly, how he would massage you. Eddie proposed maybe letting Venom bond with you for the remainder of the pregnancy to ensure safety and good health, but Venom shot the idea down himself.

He explained it like it was a bit like an organ donor match, if you weren't a match for him you could get sick, or God forbid both you and the baby could die. And to Eddie's surprise Venom made the nature decision to settle for massaging your back and tummy to ease the strain.

Venom jumped at the chance to rub your coconut oil into your belly to help ease the risk and appearance of stretch marks, too.

Through the mood swings, crazy cravings and nesting phases and all, you two boyfriends stayed with you through all of it. Several times you woke up to Venom and Eddie cooking in the kitchen, making sure you had a decent breakfast in the morning.

The only problem was... well. They cooked like broke college boys. So, you spent time giving them cooking lessons, which was one of the funnest things you'd done in a while. The messes were worth cleaning up, the cute recordings you made were memories that'd last a very very long time.

Nighttime cuddles were great, Venom slinking beneath the blankets to wrap around both you and Eddie to snuggle, massaging you the whole night. It really helped when he would conform a certain way so you could lay on your side comfortably and ease the strain on your poor spine and hips.

Who needed a pregnancy pillow when you had a symbiote, right?

Eddie and Venom read up as much as they could on the subject of babies and childbirth and to say Eddie was terrified was an absolute understatement. The photos and diagrams alone had him chewing his nails (getting a swift smack from Venom) and he felt himself getting queasy when he found out that apparently you would be delivering the placenta as well?!

How much did you have to go through, making a tiny human?!

This whole situation amused the fuck out of you, however, as you'd done all this research and merely accepted it. A bit of blood, etcetera after delivery seemed easy to deal with given you've dealt with your period since puberty and that alone was a mess by itself...

But watching a man learn more about it? Oh, it was hilarious.

But hey! They were excited for a cute little baby girl to snuggle and kiss!

One night, you were laying in bed as you scrolled through various baby items online, saving a few cute things for later. Eddie had his head on your shoulder, watching a movie, with an arm draped over your belly, now painfully (sometimes literally) obvious bump, feeling the baby shift and move around as she kicked inside of you.

Venom had encapsulated Eddie's arm, his massive hand stroking your tummy idly.

Apparently, a thought had been bouncing around in Venom's brain and he finally decided to ask it. His head morphed from behind Eddie and peered over at you.

"The baby is a girl." He said.

"Yeah, Venom, that's been established." Eddie snorted, moving until his cheek was resting on your chest.

"Eddie, that's mean." You chuckle, running your fingers through his hair. "Venom, continue."

"Thank you, sweet thing." Venom purred at you, shooting Eddie a glare afterwards.

"But anyway... If the baby is a girl now..." He tipped his head to the side. "What if the baby decides or realizes when she's older that she isn't one? Or either?"

You lower your phone, eyebrows raised at the gravity of his question. Even Eddie sat up on his elbow to look at Venom, surprised at the depth of the question coming from his symbiote. Honestly though, the subject made sense coming from a species that technically didn't have genders in the first place...

Venom seemed happy with your reply, and looked to Eddie expectantly. He already knew what his opinion was, but he wanted him to say it out loud for you.

"Well..." You begin. "If she decides she wasn't born the right gender, or feels like she's neither, or even leaning on both scales... I won't have a problem. I just want our baby to be happy and healthy, not conformed or trapped in any way. That includes the identity she will have as she realizes things about herself."

"Well, I don't have room to talk on gender identity." Eddie snickered. "Considering how you didn't really decide to go by male pronouns until you bonded with me and stuck with that identity because it fit for you... so, yeah. Whatever the baby decides when she's old enough is fine with me."

You grin and kiss Eddie on his temple, ruffling his hair as Venom nuzzles into your belly.

Yeah...

Safe, happy, and loved. That's what your baby would be, no matter what. With her two weird dads and her mom who puts up with their nonsense.

#eddie brock x reader #eddie brock x venom x reader #eddie brock x venom #eddie x reader #venom x eddie x reader #symbrock x reader

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