#there's nothing I could have done I'm afraid

[a-most-beloved-fool]

I desperately want more fics where the t'hy'la bond forms between Kirk and Spock from birth soulmate-style exclusively for the sake of making Spock, 16, feel the pain of starvation during Kirk's time on Tarsus IV.

There's maybe... two? fics I've read that used a similar concept, but there should be MORE.

Like, picture a Spock who knows that he's bonded to his t'hy'la, but has never met them. This bond is the one thing which makes him "acceptably vulcan" in the eyes of his peers. Surely he can't be a failed vulcan if he's got a t'hy'la, the rarest of all vulcan bonds, right? So, to Spock, this bond isn't only an honor, but a lifeline. His whole life, he's taken comfort from it, because it proves beyond a shadow of a doubt that there IS someone who will truly love and care for him and that he IS vulcan enough (and if he has some suspicions that the one he is bonded to isn't vulcan, well, he keeps them to himself).

And then, at some point, Spock begins feeling... oddly anxious. A little hungrier than he should be, most of the time. At first, he writes it off as simply another aspect of puberty, but then it continues. Then it gets worse. The sense of never getting quite enough to eat grows, and the anxiety builds, and eventually, Spock realizes that it's not him. His t'hy'la is the one who is hungry and afraid.

He brings it to his father, then, deeply concerned. "They are hungry," he says of his t'hy'la. "It is persistent and... palpable. I believe they are in danger."

Sarek is sympathetic, but unable to do anything save offer advice: "Be with them. If you meditate and focus on your bond, you may be able to reach them, to offer some modicum of comfort."

And so Spock does. He spends his days deep in meditation, projecting calm and comfort and gentleness into the bond, and he hopes that it is heard, though he can't help but feel that he isn't doing enough. He wishes that he could reach into their mind and find their location so he could help them, but even with the aid of T'Pau, it would be impossible.

And still, the fear and the hunger grow worse, gnawing away at his t'hy'la until Spock wonders if there is even anything left of them, on the other side of the bond.

"I fear they are dying," he confesses one night, emerged from his meditation for just long enough to eat a meal. "They are... so weak, now, and filled with such despair. I -" Spock's voice breaks. "I have not even met them. It is unfair!"

Amanda holds him, and he, for the first time since he was seven, allows it.

"Their mere presence in my mind has done so much for me, and in return, what good have I done for them? I wish..." He swallows, throat aching with suppressed grief. "I would take their place, if I could."

He wonders, almost, if it would be better for them, to die. Their pain was so intense, and their terror so strong - surely death could be nothing but release.

Still, selfishly, he wants them to live.

He wants to get a chance to know them, to love them as more than just a warm link in the back of his mind.

So, still, he meditates, and tries to press as much warmth and affection as possible through the bond, saying don't give up, I'm here, I'm with you.

And, eventually, slowly, the hunger goes away. The fear takes longer, but it, too, eases over time. It never goes away entirely, of course. Sometimes, starvation plagues his t'hy'la's memories, or disembodied terror strikes them out of nowhere. But still, they are healing, and Spock is grateful for it.

Someday, he hopes to have the chance to hold his t'hy'la in his arms, but until then, he offers his mind. Every time he meditates (and every time he feels his t'hy'la's distress) Spock presses love and warmth into the bond. He still doesn't know if he's reaching them, but he hopes - and sometimes, hope is all you need.

(Jim, for his part, thinks often of the gentle warmth and reassurance which filled his mind during his darkest days. He wonders if he could have kept going, without it. He wonders, too, where it came from, and why he can still feel it sometimes, brushing lovingly over him. He hopes that someday he'll find out, to thank them for staying with him, for granting him a light in the darkness.)

[darklove9314-blog]

A Rose Without Thorns: an Elucien Fanfic

Hello everyone and welcome to Day 2 of SJM Romance week, Prompt: First Fight. I hope everyone enjoys the story.

Synopsis: When tensions rise between Lucien and Elain, will a heated argument turn into something more? . NSFW: for hate sex.

Rage and fury bubbled up within her, threatening to escape as she slammed the door shut, shoving her back into it as her throat bobbed in frustration, That arrogant, smug, son of a bi-

An aggravated knock sounded at the door, the repetitiveness of it driving her up the wall as she ground her teeth. the beast she tried to keep buried underneath her flesh finally breaking free as she threw the door open revealing Lucien's furious gaze before it flickered to her own. He made his way past her, not bothering to ask for entrance as the fury at the intrusion welled up inside of her.

She slammed the door again, challenge in her gaze, daring him to say anything, to do anything as the fire in his eyes threatened to consume her.

Good. She wanted that fury unleashed on her, she was tired of everyone being silent around her. so afraid to harm her that they treated her like a porcelain doll instead of a person. sometimes she wished they would just let her shatter. No one ever had, not until-

"Care to explain?" He snapped making her spine straighten in response.

"Why should I explain? I'm a grown woman with my own wants and desires. No matter what this bond thinks is going to happen between us means very little to me. I am my own person, I have desires of my own and if I wish to channel those desires it is no business of yours.” She shot back at him, twisting her hands in frustration.

He took a step closer, forcing her back to the door once more, but she refused to back down. She had had enough of this, enough of this tension between them. It was finally time to let it snap.

"Do you want to fuck him?" He asked her. His voice low, almost primal.

She had expected this question. Had expected it the moment Lucien had saw them kiss. What was worse was that when she had done it she had thought Azriel was the male that she had wanted, her desire for him was so potent that she couldn't help but try a taste of him. But when they had kissed, when she had finally given into her fantasies and desires for him. it was-It had not been how she imagined it would be.

She had expected a lot from that kiss, had expected to have this earth shattering, world turning experience. She thought when their lips touched, it would make sense. Her losing Grayson, her broken engagement, all of it. She had expected the kiss to put everything into perspective, to set everything right and give her a direction, a purpose. She had been naive to expect anything more than what it was.

She should have known that Azriel was not the right person for her, that no matter how much peace and quiet he gave her, it would never be enough to settle her, because deep down she knew silence wasn’t always a good thing. And that made her so furious that she could barely speak.

I don't want the cauldron to be right. She thought glancing into Lucien's livid gaze as she squared her shoulders, preparing to strike him with her words once more.

"You have no right to ask me that. I can fuck who I want to fuck. If I take a lover in your absence that is no business of yours and yet you still feel the need to sit there and lecture me about wanting and desiring others but what about Vassa?"

Lucien's jaw clenched, that heated gaze concentrating every ounce of that intensity on her, turning her body near molten from that stare alone.

"What about Vassa, mate?"

She stiffened,

"Don't call me that."

"Why not? Why shouldn't I call you what you are to me?" He challenged her, taking a step forward, yet she refused to take a step back. If he wanted to intimidate her, fine, but she refused to be seen as prey any longer.

"I'm nothing to you. Don't you get it? and don't change the subject. I've seen how you look at her."

A low chuckle escaped Lucien's lips, giving Elain pause as Lucien glanced down at her. His focus solely on her.

"How exactly do I look at her?" He inquired, stepping so close that her back was pressed to the door as she could have sworn that his fingers twitched towards her. Her nipples pebbling in response at that voice. That power, hers wanting to come out to play. To see who would dominate who. But she wouldn’t even give him a taste of that until she knew where they stood.

"You gaze upon her as if she's a goddess walking this earth." She sneered hearing his laughter to her response.

"I will admit, being attracted to Vassa would be easier, She's a beautiful and fierce female who anyone would be lucky to have in their bed and despite our quarrels, we have a lot in common. It would be easy to fall into bed with her, to fall in love with her knowing that she would return that love, however -" He stepped closer, his gaze drinking her in as her fury at his words began to flare, "I have no desire to fuck her. to be with her. She's not the female i dream about, she's not the female who i want to taste, she’s definitely not the female whose legs I want wrapped around my head. The one I want to sink my cock deep into-“ he rasped, their hurried breaths mingling together as desire stronger than she’d ever known pooled between her legs.

He closed the space between them, daring to push the bounds of their separation and she let him, Gods and Mother above, she let him.

Pressing his cock to her center, letting her feel every inch of desire he had for her as he leaned in close, his mouth nearly a whisper away from her ear as those clever hands of his weaved into her hair, tilting her head back to expose her to him as he breathed.

"She's not you."

She erupted, her lips colliding with his own as she let her primal instincts drive her. She was tired of suppressing them. Tired of driving them down to adhere to everyone’s expectations when all she wanted to do was unleash herself.

As if sensing the direction of her thoughts, Lucien slammed Elain into the door, his desire evident as she yanked his hair back wanting to deepen their kiss. If he wanted to play these games then they would play.

His hand found her throat. applying the slightest bit of pressure as she moaned into his mouth, the pressure felt so delicious that Elain couldn't help but revel in it.

"Like that?" Lucien whispered between her lips. never taking his off of her.

She refused to answer, wanting nothing more than for him to shut the fuck up and take her like he wanted to, but after years of waiting for this, she knew the fucker would make her work for this.

He chuckled, the sound sending heat between her thighs as if she hadn't been wet enough, as his other hand that had not been occupying her throat went to her nipple, twisting it through the fabric of her bodice as she moaned loudly into his mouth. Her nipples pebbling at his touch as he pinched her other nipple and rolled it between his fingers making them stay nice and perky for him.

"Answer me." He commanded, rolling her nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

"Yes." She hissed out, cursing his name for making her feel this way.

"Yes what?"

"Yes, Mate." She hissed at him. damning him yet again.

"Good Girl." He mused, sending a shiver of pleasure down her spine at the words as he pressed a kiss to the side of her throat making it bob. Reminding her that he could be gentle when he wanted to be.

He inhaled her scent, exhaling at the desire he smelt from in between her legs as he pressed her to the door, palming her breast as a growl of frustration escaped from him.

"These clothes are in my way." He growled ripping the top of her bodice as her breast spilled out for him.

Before she could even breath a word about the dress, his hands lifted her thighs wrapping them, around him as he pressed his erection to her center, letting her feel just how much he wanted her.

Her head was heady, she could barely think as his hands moved to underneath her skirts, moving her undergarments and ripping them off in one fluid motion, leaving nothing of hers inaccessible to him as his clever fingers roamed over her folds, exploring the wetness there. Elain moaned from the fire his touch provided, his hand warming the most pleasurable parts of her.

"So wet for me, my mate, tell me, were you ever this wet for him?"

"Gods." She muttered as he pinched her clint rolling it between his fingers as she cried out in pleasure.

"Answer me."

"N-No."

"No what? He asked, drawing her orgasm out from her and denying her every time she was close.

"No, he never made me as wet as you."

"I might have to put that to the test."

"What are you-"

Before she could answer, the rest of her dress was ripped from her, her body lain on the floor as he bared the rest of her to him, leaving her on full display for him, remaining fully clothed in the process.

Keeping her legs open, Lucien knelt before her, moving his head between her legs as the silky strands of his hair brushed against them. he spread her wide making sure he had full access to her pussy as he purred in delight,

His head lowered, meeting her gaze with an intensity she had never seen before as she shattered underneath the first stroke of his tongue.

Making her cry out from how good his tongue felt on her, her nails raked against the wooden floors. Pawing at them for dear life as Lucien continued his exploration only stopping when he felt sated with how much of her wetness he could gather in his mouth. her moans and pleads for him to fuck her filling the room.

"Lucien, please." She begged,

"Please, what?" He taunted,

"Please. fuck me."

He pulled away roughly, tearing her from her orgasm as he stood up, his cock straining against his leathers, making sure he was out of her reach, as she glanced up at him, confused as she questioned,

"What are you-"

"Stand up."

She didn't know why she obeyed as she stood naked and waiting in front of Lucien as he circled around her, observing her as her heart pounded in response. She hated it, Hated the pleasure that he could draw out of her without even trying.

"Hands on the door." He commanded as her nipples hardened in response.

She turned back to the door, leaning against it, as she heard Lucien come up behind her, getting her into position and kneeling her aching body foreword so he could display the full picture of her desire.

His hands went to her hair again, pulling it back as he lowered his voice asking,

"Is the Shadowsinger home?"

"Yes-Yes, why?" She breathed, her core tightening at his words as she felt his lips at her ear, hearing the buckle of his leathers as he undid them before he answered,

"Because I want him to hear what happens when us Autumn Court males fuck the females that are ours."

Before she could respond, his cock drove up inside of her, making her feel every inch of him as she cried out in pleasure. She could barely even remember his name as Lucien rode her with his cock, her pussy gladly accepting him as the door rattled in response, making sure everyone outside of it could hear them.

Her cries turned to sobs as her pussy took more and more of him, she had never had this big before, had never felt so full before as her pussy clamped around him soaking his cock with her desire as her pussy clenched around him, her orgasm erupting from her lips as he continued to pound into her mercilessly.

"Fuck." He exclaimed, as she felt the splashes of his own orgasm inside of her, promising herself that she would ask Madaja for a tonic later as he filled her to the brim. His seed seeping onto her legs as her body ached from the pleasure he had thrusted upon it.

He pulled away, shoving his cock back in his leathers and buckling himself up as he leaned into her, the evidence of what they did between her legs, dripping onto the hardwood floor as he said,

"You're mine, Elain Archeron, just like i am yours. remember that the next time you want to fuck anyone else ." He told her, as he left the room, leaving her stunned, wondering what she was going to do next.

@sjmromanceweek

[arthursfuckinghat]

"I see you, stranger."

"Come to our tree.."

[shalom-iamcominghome]

do you agree that a convert to reform judaism is just a goy appropriating jewish culture? or do you think reform conversions are just as valid as any other?

"Do you agree" feels like you're already presupposing what my position ought to be - if so, what's the point in asking beyond validation? Perhaps it's a misreading of your tone, anon, and if so, I apologize. I can become quite on edge because I have seen a lot of disappointing "discourse" about this topic.

If you've put the work into being a jew, you're a jew. The second you leave the mikveh - the second you become a jew - there is nothing for you to appropriate. Most jews in my country (U.S.) are reform, in fact.

A jew is a jew, and I hold love, admiration, and appreciation for all jews. In fact, it's written about extensively in my bio (not my pinned post) because I want this to be welcoming for everyone, not just people like myself. This is something I will not negotiate about. I am not interested in negotiating this because it only, ultimately, divides and hurts us all. Reform isn't for me personally in the stage of life I am in and what I want my judaism to look like. If ever there was a time that this changes when I am jewish, I will plan accordingly in any direction. I don't want my conversion to be validated simply due to potential distaste one might have for the reform movement - I and my community have been putting all this work in for my jewish life.

Reform judaism is so much more nuanced and complex than I think many people are willing to give it credit for. To me, it is all judaism. And I hope with my extensive blogging on this account that you know how I feel about judaism as a whole.

[xxplastic-cubexx]

just read the new mutants issue where Charles chose to stay behind in space and my god the juxtaposition between Charles trusting Erik and Erik joining the hellfire club and wondering at his own trust worthiness. I wonder how much of Charles decision was him ultimately trying to avoid the fact that his first class had seemingly betrayed mutant kind and not be willing to face them and how much of it was Dani and Illyana's reaction to him having Karma mind control Illyana. the fact that Illyana was depending on him to ease her mind through limbo and in choosing to stay he forced karma to do it instead, probably fucking up their relationship in the process.

I love him, this is crazy, how much of this is him trying to runaway and how much is this him not trusting himself to fix things and how much is it just him trusting Erik?

i keep trying to put into words my exact thoughts about the sitch but there really is a lot for one issue aintit... oh charles you and your brain...

[icewindandboringhorror]

recent things and such~

[forcebookish]

damn remember when ichigo went full hollow and orihime was terrified of him but when ulquiorra, someone she has only known as a hollow and kidnapped her by threatening to murder all her friends and spent her whole imprisonment intimidating her, asked her if she was afraid of him she said she wasn't

🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃

LIKE WHAT WAS I SUPPOSED TO DO WITH THAT????????

[sskk-manifesto]

--

[blujayonthewing]

SUPREMELY frustrating that we found something actually really cool and intriguing and plot relevant in tonight's session but I'm still so constantly preoccupied with whether the DM is going to 100% kill us with sheer poor game design that I barely have enough brainspace left over to even enjoy it

[vaguely-concerned]

I've written 5000 words of lucanis and rye fic the last two days and the only reason the wip isn't even longer yet is probably that my brain turns into useless ash and blows away for the day once it's channeled the lightning bolt of writing energy for a couple of hours and needs to sleep before it can stand up to another onslaught.

[amariemelody]

This morning, how the hell did we have a legit Code Blue during shift change, got 15+ people in & out the room (including me, bringing the saline flushes and gloves), the monitor is still showing asystole (AKA flatline/heartbeat) for this poor old lady even after 3 rounds of chest compressions...

...And you're going to try to walk right on by with your backpack on and car keys in hand? You could only "try" because I know you doubled back and went out on the other side so people wouldn't see you walking out during a Code.

I don't...I get that I now work in a hospital and I'm Going To See Some Shit, but I don't...understand people right now.

I don't understand.

I drove home crying this morning.

[fortes-fortuna-iogurtum]

.

[autistic-shaiapouf]

Beginning to really wonder how much of my financial concern is manufactured and handed to me as opposed to something I'm genuinely concerned by

[novakstiel]

being a woman is literally so traumatizing like being in a serious relationship i’m finally coming face to face with the fact that if i want children, i will have to go through the most horrendous experience and the most excruciating pain a human can experience and i’m supposed to just be fine with that? wtf? like women will go like “yeah when i gave birth it hurt so bad i thought i was gonna die and it lasted for like a couple days too and i wasn’t given anything to help the pain and instead i was told to leave the hospital because i wasn’t “far enough along yet” and also the baby ripped my pussy and after the birth i had difficulties even using the toilet” and that’s just.... normal???? what the fuck i’m literally going insane thinking about this every day

[mobpd]

I'm such a coward. tried to at least get deep enough as a preparation to slit my wrists but I couldn't even get to the second layer. and it's not even like i don't like to hit styro, i'm just being a little bitch about it

[sadesluvr]

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.