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inbabylontheywept · 5 months ago

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i once accidentally dated someone for a few months. its very difficult to explain how this happened, but the gist is that i thought we were hanging out, and she thought we were on dates, and it was just a very painfully highschool thing.

she was a little bit confused that i hadnt tried to pull any moves, at all, even a little. like, didnt even try holding hands because, and i cannot emphasize this enough, i did not know we were dating.

so, halloween rolled around, and she thought, you know, why wait for destiny, when you can grab it? so she hit me with a clue by four.

babylon, she said. babylon. my mom's gonna be out of town on halloween, and im gonna have the house to myself, and it's going to be kind of lonely. would you like to come to my house and watch scary movies with me?

you know, kind of a netflix and chill thing. except, and i cannot emphasize this enough, i did not know we were dating. also autism. so i took it at face value and said: oh! yeah! thatd be fun! and she thought she got her point across, but she didnt and it was a mess.

skip forward to halloween: my family has a block party every year, right? and at that point i was too old to really trick or treat, but we still wore costumes for our role in the block party, which in my case, was handing out cotton candy. so i took the first shift, and my costume was this homemade abomination minion thing. i had full yellow body paint, and goggles, and a bald cap, and overalls. the kids who saw it were like, uh, hm. overly realistic minion. and adults were like, oh, some kind of hills have eyes hillbilly with jaundice. very scary.

(it was not my best costume.)

my little brother swapped me out for second shift, and i was getting ready to change out to head to her house when i was like: no, she'll get a real kick out of this. this is one of the worst things i have ever worn. so i kept it on and just brought a change of clothes thinking i could shower real quick and change at her place after she saw my nightmare getup.

so i left after that, got there, knocked on her door, and she said come on in. so i went in, and there was this very long hall with an abrupt right turn into her living room where the tv was, and i went down the hall, and i made the turn, and my field of view went from beige drywal to her, on the couch, naked. naked in the paint me like one of your french girls pose. super naked.

i panicked. this was my first time seeing a real person like, full on sex naked,which is a totally different beast from other kinds of naked. you see one kind of naked and you think yeah, im ready for all the kinds of naked, but you arent. i wasnt at least. i really wasn't.

so my brain crashed to BIOS. she also crashed to BIOS, but for different reasons. of all the ways this could have turned me, having me show up in yellow body paint and overalls was pretty pretty low down the list.

so we sat there a while, and you know, she wasn't getting any less naked, which really wasn't helping me get my brain sorted out. it really wasnt much of a surprise when she got her bearings first and started asking questions.

"babylon," she said. "babylon. what are you wearing?"

and i was like, kind of rebooted, but i was nowhere near full functionality, so symbolic language wasnt loaded in yet. i had nothing running but my trusty autism.exe, so i said

"overalls"

and she looked at me like i was the dumbest person in the entire world, and i looked at her like she was the first naked person i had seen in real life who got naked specifically for me, and my upper level cognitive process went: "listen man, we are not going to get our shit together as long as 80% of your brain power is devoted to not blinking. you gotta get out of here."

and if id communicated that, maybe things would have been less of a mess, but instead i just kind of turned around and walked back to my car. i figured i could drive a few loops around the block, get my brain in order, and figure out what the hell we were gonna do.

the only thing i had said to her since arriving was, again, overalls.

first loop around, i was like: oh god fucking damnit. oh shit. oh shit. shes gonna get like, an eating disorder from this. oh no.

second loop around i was like: oh NOOOOO oh WHAT THE FUCK oh SWEET JESUS PLEASE. i dont wanna go back man. i just wanna bury this and forget about it. please. please. let this bitter cup pass from my lips.

and after my third loop, i went and i knocked on her door again.

she answered it this time, and i counted my lucky stars that she'd changed into some pajamas. she was all teary eyed which was the saddest thing ever, and we sat down in her kitchen and talked. it was pretty bad - i figured out we'd been dating, and she figured out that trying to jump from home plate to 3rd base is considered ballsy in baseball, least of all dating. no real winners there. and i can remember after all that, we sat there a bit a bit longer, just steadying ourselves, and i was like "well, im actually really glad we figured that out. guess i'll see you at school tomorow' and she said "WAIT. wait."

"lets watch shrek 2."

so we did and it was horrible. we did not look at each other. we did not say a word. we just sat in stony silence, while shrek 2 played in the background, and when it was done we shook hands. i think we might have been able to salvage that as a friendship if it hadnt been for shrek. as it was she turned white as a sheet and ran away every time she even got a glimpse of me at school, and that summer she moved to a new state to live with her dad. all her friends said she moved just so she wouldn't have to go to school with me anymore, and i dont actually think they were lying.

every time i hear relationship counselors talk about how important communication is, and i'm tempted to roll my eyes, i look back and go, alright. alright. theres probably some poor bastard, somewhere in the world, who doesnt even know that hes married.

and god help him when he figures it out.

other bad dating story here.

#funny stories #dating #dating fiascos #minions #the minion incident #anecdotes #fuck shrek #and fuck shrek 2 #like its the best in the shrek series but that movie is basically my trigger now

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sadesluvr · 1 month ago

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TEETH.

Sergei Kravinoff might be a villian, and you a hero; but at the end of the day you're both animals.

A/N: First fic in a while so my bad if it sucks. You already know this movie was basically ass but we only watched it for ATJ anyway - I'm changing some of Kraven's character so he's similar to the comics/Spider-Man 2 game, so be sure to read the tags bc he’s a lil dark…

Word count: 2.3K

Tags: SMUT / DUB-CON / Spiderwoman! Reader / Breeding / Unprotected + rough sex

Kraven feared nothing.

It simply wasn’t in his blood; not his staunchly machismo upbringing, nor in his DNA, quite literally having that of a lion. Fear made one weak. Fear made you less of a man. Fear was what killed his mother.

If anything, fear was just another animal; ready to be captured, killed and conquered, ultimately destined to be draped across his chiselled body or mounted on a wall.

You were simply no different.

He never really understood why people were afraid of spiders, but he knew that they were a nuisance, having haunted him since he was a boy. Spiders weren’t savages like lions or bears, but they were sneaky; crawling around in the dark and waiting to strike, with a face so obscured that you’d never really know what you were looking at...what they were thinking.

But now, with your mask off, he could see you clearly. Fear; clouding your eyes and consuming your lungs as you heaved, choking on the intensity of the emotion itself as your pupils darted between the beige, bloodied teeth on his necklace and a crossbow pointed right at your heart.

“So, you’re the insect causing me all this trouble?” the man mused; legs crossed upon a desk as he eyed you. “I should’ve known.”

“Should’ve known what? You know nothing about me.”

“You’re a girl.”

“Sexist, much.”

He chuckled.

“Far from it. My father, however, was quite the traditionalist. He would’ve done much worse by now.”

There was a heavy silence as you swiped at your bottom lip. Much to your dismay, blood had begun to dry, and you were left with a salty, scratchy throat. Liquid, some of any kind, would’ve been appreciated, but you knew all too well that Kraven wasn’t one for showing mercy. Like all the villains you’d encountered, you’d had a push-pull relationship with the Hunter since the very beginning. He created a plan; you foiled it, sometimes you’d get your ass beat but the ending was almost always the same – with you safe from harm's way, and a bloodthirsty ego chipped away, but momentarily put to rest.

On this occasion you’d slipped up, your Spidey-senses failing you and placing you right into harm's way, shipped into the back of a van and somehow escorted to a somewhat uncharacteristically lavish mansion.

You'd always found Kraven to be a man of contradictions; whether he realised it or not. He was the best and worst of both worlds, a hunter with all the grit of someone who’d been fighting their entire life as a poverty-stricken rogue, and yet you’d come to learn that he was a Russian aristocrat, hence his rather extensive knowledge and unrelenting desire for control. Still, nothing took away from the fact that he was a brute, not even his strikingly good looks.

“Just shoot me and be over it,” You continued, watching as he lowered his feet from atop the desk and strolled over to you. “You didn’t need to drag me all the way here.”

He looked even bigger than usual, but perhaps it was because you were perched uncomfortably on a chair, arms bound behind you as you craned your neck to look up at him. Your mind couldn’t - no, didn’t - want to fathom what he was thinking of you from this angle.

“Don’t get me wrong, I care nothing about your secret. I just wanted to look you in the eye.” He mused, rummaging through his back pockets. Your breath hitched in your throat as he slid a knife from its sheath, finely carved and sharpened and lowered it to his side before pacing around you, stopping as his firm torso pressed up against the tip of your neck. Squeezing your eyes shut, you braced for your neck to be split open, only to be released from your bounds.

Instinctively, you went to shoot some webs, hoping you could at least catapult yourself across the room, but he tightly grasped your wrists, steadying your arms in place.

“I wouldn’t try anything if I were you,” he sneered. “These are antiques.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Fuck you.”

“Get up,” he announced suddenly, almost dragging you to your feet. Hesitantly, you began to shuffle out of the room, overwhelmed by the seemingly endless walls and corridors, all framed in ivory and the finest mahogany. “Keep walking until I tell you to stop.”

You continued down the hall, opting for a straight line. It seemed to be the correct way as once you passed into the threshold of a room that had a velvet chaise lounges and a dresser, he dropped his hands from their grip on your own, closing the door behind you. Oddly enough, you never heard the click of a latch.

Without a word, he walked past you to open the drawer, rummaging through the contents. It utterly baffled you why you didn’t feel the urge to protest, or even fight. The entire ordeal was feeling more like a glorified house tour with a side of intimidation rather than a future crime scene.

Was it because he was handsome? Wild? Filthy rich? Whatever happened to your values? Perhaps Jameson was right.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the man placing something in the desk, curling his finger to beckon you towards him.

“See this? This is what keeps me going,”he said, rolling a vial of florescent liquid in his fingertips. “You and I are more alike than you think.”

You scoffed, trying to ignore how close he was to you. He had an earthly musk that invaded your senses, sending tingles down your spine… and to your core.

“I don’t need a drug to do what I do.”

“Never mind the drug. It’s our blood that makes us strong.”

You cocked a brow and he ignored your confused look.

“You know, I’ve always hated spiders…” he began, rubbing his beard in contemplation. “Too itchy; unpredictable. You never really know where they’re going to show up. If I ever saw one, I used to pop them like a zit.”

There was a clear disgust in his words and vacant look in his eye that sunk you into a pit of fear for perhaps the first time since regaining your consciousness. You knew that it was just about you (surely), but perhaps a weird extension of your being; something bigger, far more innate than a girl in a spandex spider suit.

“But then I realised that for their size, they’re deadly. Powerful, even. Recently I’ve wondered what it would look like if I harnessed it myself.”

You swallowed, suddenly conscious of your dry throat once more.

“A drop of blood usually does the trick.”

He tutted. Perhaps you were being too fickle.

“No, любимец [darling], not that way. I crave something more.”

Your eyes darted to the lounge. Since when did Spider-Woman lack composure? Kraven’s impenetrable gaze followed your own, and he chuckled knowingly.

“With your arachnid abilities and my strength, we could create something truly unique. Nature has its ways, you know.”

“You’re sick,” you replied, your chin held high but your bottom lip wobbled. “I’ll never join you. What you do is immoral.”

Kraven furrowed his brows.

“You killed a man, and you talk about morality?”

“He was a bad man.”

“He was my brother.”

The word humanised him a bit. The Chameleon wasn’t your most imposing foe, but he was still a challenge you’d been rather glad to conquer. It was all too often that you’d fallen into the trap of thinking that the world was black and white; good and bad, when occasionally it was grey. Kraven was allowed to grieve his brother, but at the end of the day they were both bad guys.

Then why did he turn you on so much?

“You don’t have to resist,” the man grinned, strolling towards you. He stopped, glancing down and reaching a hand up to cup the sides of your face, caressing your cheekbones and sides of your lip with his thumb, threatening to penetrate your mouth. “I’ve never been this close to you before…I can smell you.”

You were both superhuman, but he had the thirst of a predator. Quite literally. Breath hitched in your throat as he angled his lips to your ear, whispering a few fatal words.

“Give in, маленький паучок [little spider]. Your body yearns for me.”

One large hand was wrapped around your neck as he kissed you, his wild beard scratching against your face as his other hand snaked down your suit, down to between your thighs. The latex did nothing to offer you safety, his callouses prodding at your wet slit and beginning to rub in small circles, oh-so internationally slow, making sure he pressed against the hood of your clit.

He had you as soon as a small moan escaped your lips. It’d been a while since you’d been touched, let a alone by someone who was as well-travelled as The Hunter himself, and every kiss, nibble and squeeze was sending you into a deeper spiral of lust and guilt that you could barely fathom that you’d already made your way to the lounge.

You pulled away as your calves collided with the frame, lips wet and parted as you glanced up at him – wholly helplessly. His hand remained firm on your face, angling his head as he smirked at your shielded demeanour, a far cry from the flashy superhero you’d been but an hour ago.

“Kra—“

“Don’t call me that,” he said through gritted teeth. “Call me Sergei. I need to hear you say it.”

The name rolled from your lips as a cry as he bunched the sides of your suit in his hands and tearing it apart, exposing your bare pussy and ass, with strands of fabric shaping your legs like a makeshift garter. He grinned, large hands frantically groping at your thighs and ass, spreading your cheeks apart and exposing your hot core to the cool air.

“прекрасный.” [Gorgeous] he moaned, swatting at your ass before dipping his fingers inside you, rubbing your folds between his fingers as you coated him in your juices. Grasping your hands around his thick neck, you clung onto what you could as he explored your body, lowering you down onto the smooth velvet.

It wasn’t long before he straddled you, holding your body down with his pelvis as he removed his jacket, giving you an eyeful of his crafted torso. Unsurprisingly, he had the body of a God, with a prominent v-line and happy trail pointing down to between his legs. Even through his heavy trousers you could make out his bulge, mounded and ready for you.

You gasped in anticipation, watching as the man withdrew his cock from his briefs; red and girthy, with precum spilling from his tip. Skilfully, he spread your thighs, making sure they were safely by your sides (he’d seen how flexible you were, your ankles touching your ears was nothing) and lifting your lower back slightly off the cushions, pushing into you with a deep sigh.

At first, his intrusion was a dull ache, but as he began to move his hips against your own you felt utterly fulfilled, moaning and writhing as he wasted no time in daggering your wanting pussy, making sure you felt every inch.

“Sergei...” you cried, eyes fluttering shut as you flung your head back in pleasure. “Please...”

“Say it again.”

Words evaded you.

The man grinned, flashing his canines as he tightened his grip, compelling him to fuck you harder. The whole ordeal was obscene; New York’s most treasured hero being bent into submission by the villain of the week, a scene so heinous that it was all the more endearing, and with every thrust you knew you wanted him more. Sergei didn’t care whether his combat boots scuffed the fine upholstery, or if his grip on your waist would leave a few bruises – he just wanted to own you.

He huffed as his heavy balls slammed repeatedly against your crack, beginning to bottom out in you with every hit, so much so that it looked like you were conjoined.

Even through the strain in your legs you could tell you were close, knots in your stomach slowly beginning to unravel as your walls clenched around him, earning a delighted rumble from deep within his chest.

You knew that he wasn’t one for talk, but you would’ve appreciated the warning that he was about to come. Every guy you’d been with tended to get sloppier, but he grew stronger, the literal animal in him taking over as he began to ramble and curse through gritted teeth in Russian.

Sergei threw his head back as he held you down, hands pawing your breasts and strands of hair sprawled in a beautiful mess across his face as he came, ropes of hot white cum spilling into your pussy just as you dressed his cock in a silky sheen. Your chests heaved as you desperately tried to come down from your high, glancing down at your messy nether regions as his seed began to seep out of you.

There was no going back. Nine months began now.

Would it really be all that bad?

It all went back to fear, really. In the back of his mind the thought of a spider still troubled Sergei, but at least he’d conquered it. Even if it was temporary.

FIN.

#florence writes!!#kraven x reader #kraven the hunter x reader #sergei kravinoff x reader #aaron taylor johnson x reader #atj x reader #kraven the hunter smut #kraven x reader smut #atj smut

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