#its not ven purring its roaring

[knavves]

Aliza wdyt about personal trainer/gym instructor Karasu 🤭he would be so touchy with you and just love the way your body flexes everytime he’s practicing w you 🙈

PERVY PERSONAL TRAINER ft karasu tabito

wc: 0.5k ノ cw + tw: nsfw (18+). fem reader. karasu is a mf perv. suggestive dialogue. groping. use of pet names. descriptions of sex/dirty thoughts. male masturbation.

you're so naive. the handsome smile he gives you that crinkles the corners of his eyes, bringing out his beauty mark. the nice guy persona, the kind words he gives you, all of it is just a facade that you mindlessly fall for.

maybe you have noticed the way he's basically eye fucking you. his dark orbs scan over your body, drinking in every curve that your tight leggings compliment so well, hand smoothing over his face to hide where his bottom lip is caught between his teeth as he ogles at your body. but you hardly bat an eyelash. as much as you want to believe it, it's just your imagination, right?

he recommends you gym wear that he claims is "easier to workout in" or "is a really good brand" and you believe him whole heartedly, gushing when he compliments you but he's just being nice, right? in truth, he'd only picked them out because they were more revealing, gracing your features that he 'analyzes' throughout your sessions.

and he always makes sure you're properly stretched before each workout too. he'll claim you're doing something wrong, huffing, "here lemmie help ya, sweetheart." your heart flutters at the 'friendly' nickname as he presses his large hand on the small of your back to coax you into doing it the right way. it couldn't possibly just be an excuse to feel you up and subtly grope your plush skin, right? sometimes he manhandles you into not so subtle sex positions, positions he could only fantasize about putting you in and pounding into you until you could only utter his name. your face feels hot and you question him but he just brushes it off telling you, "don't want ya to pull a muscle or somethin, you know?"

he loves leg days because that's when he gets to make you do squats. "like this right, tabito?" you ask, with the newfound permission that you use his first name, dipping down and thudding the dumbbell against the ground and coming back up like he said. "yeah, just like that." and you miss the sexual intent behind his words. he hardly hears you when you laugh about how your legs were trembling while he's silently wishing that he was the one who had you shaking like that.

"tabito it's too much! i don't think i can do anymore." you whine, a noise that shoots straight to his cock. he chuckles at you, "i know you can, sweetheart. you can take more." you're talking about the amount of weight he has you on but it sounds like his mind is somewhere else. you shake it off, he's just encouraging you is all. you're the one who has your mind in the gutter.

he always tells you how "good you did for him", words that are nothing but praise to you but much more to him. all you do is smile widely and thank him, god he thinks you're so fucking cute. after your session, he fucks his fist until his hand is dripping with his own arousal and he's shooting blanks. reminiscing in the cute whimpers you let out as you struggled with the exercise and the feeling of your skin against his rough hands. you have no idea what you do to him.

© knavves : reposting, plagiarizing, modifying, and translating is NOT allowed.

#🔖: knavves #its not ven purring its roaring #bllk smut #bllk x reader smut #blue lock smut #blue lock x reader smut #karasu smut #karasu x reader smut #tabito karasu x reader smut #tabito karasu smut

[rainforestgeek]

If you lose your strength to stand (I’m gonna reach for your hand) pt. 13 “What Doesn’t Kill You”

Par 12

AO3 link

--

Lance had too many thoughts swirling around his head.

That seemed to be happening a lot lately.

Obviously there was Lotor’s freaking bombshell. This whole new...benevolent side of him came to light that was difficult to reconcile with the version Lance already knew. He’d saved an entire people from extinction and kept them safe for thousands of years. What the hell .

On the flip side, Allura was completely furious and getting mad on her behalf was so easy. She and Coran had every right to know the people they’d been grieving all this time had survived. Lotor could have eased their suffering phoebes ago! If Lance were in their shoes…

He could never begin to understand their shoes.

Coran also had been quick to point out Lotor kept Allura from her birthright as the next in line to be the Altean queen.

Perched on Red’s head and staring at the Black Lion now, Lance worried about his teammates. Shiro, obviously, was still MIA (hopefully not KIA, but that was not an option ). Allura’d already had a double role as rebellion figurehead and Blue Paladin. The life-changing news of the colony probably started pulling her attention in yet another mind-boggling direction. Lance didn’t really know what was going on with Hunk, and honestly, that worried him anyways. Hunk didn’t do holding things in . So either that  meant he was remarkably well-adjusted right now or something was wrong. (Or Lance was overreacting, which was definitely a possibility.) Then Pidge. Hunk’s emotional state was debatable but there was no mistaking the bedraggled, red-eyed, matted-haired state Pidge had been in during the conference call. It was obvious even through a holographic screen. Forget stressed; according to her appearance, Pidge had ascended to a new level of semi-zombified mania. He wanted nothing more than to teleport to the Castle and wrap her up in his arms. Keith at least seemed to have got his head on straight, finally. Even so, Lance dreaded what might happen now that he was back in place as the Head of Voltron. Would his head stay straight after going through all that stress again?

Something shifted in the corner of Lance’s eye. He leapt to his feet and just about slid off the head of his Lion in the process. Keith chuckled at him.

Lance glowered. “Freaking hell, Keith, if you try hard you might manage to be even quieter than  a ghost.”

“I’ve been meaning to ask. When did that happen?” Keith jerked his head at Lance’s right hand.

He looked, mildly surprised to see he’d summoned the broadsword. He deactivated his bayard and sat back down. “A while back, while I was getting in some extra time with the battle drones. I still kinda suck at using it, though. Think you could give me some pointers later?”

Keith shrugged and joined him. “Sure. I won’t go easy on you.”

“If you did I’d be offended.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes. Waiting for the Castle of Lions to arrive was like waiting for a water glass to fill up during a drought.

“Is there something bothering you?” Keith asked.

“What isn’t? Our enemy’s all-powerful, Lotor’s been hiding a whole colony of Alteans, Shiro’s still missing, and Pidge looked ready to collapse this morning. I’d say I’ve got a couple things on my mind.”

Keith made an affirmative humming sound. “I’ve been told talking about it can help.”

Lance blew air out through his teeth. Ran a hand through his hair. “You’re the one who found your long-lost alien mother in the middle of a space war. Wanna talk about that?”

“Are you trying to goad me or seriously asking?” His friend’s face looked shrewd.

He paused for a beat. He admitted, “I don’t know.”

“Honestly, I...I feel at peace for the first time in my life. Not peaceful, but. Ugh. Like I’m solid instead of a bunch of broken pieces.” Keith’s fingers drummed out a steady beat on his knee.

“Yeah, that makes sense,” Lance replied. He wanted to show Keith encouragement somehow, with an elbow nudge or playful shove or something. If he’d take it like that was a completely different thing.

He sighed through his teeth. Keith did offer to listen, he figured. Kinda. Might as well. “On top of everything, I still feel weird in my role on the team. I was serious when I said I should step down before. Flying Blue was magical . We fit together so well. And I love Red, honest to God I’m taking care of her but I miss that. I just feel kinda stretched in the wrong direction. Like we fit together but just barely and not as naturally.”

Keith had begun drumming his fingers against the Red Lion’s hull. “I think I get that same feeling with the Black Lion. Despite everything I keep feeling drawn to Red, back when I was really comfortable. Same as you miss Blue.”

Lance furrowed his eyebrows at him. “What do you mean ‘drawn to Red?’”

“You know. That lingering quintessence bond with your first lion. It never really goes away and I guess you and I are the only ones who can get that.”

A ton of bricks materialized in Lance’s stomach and freefell through his body. He’d thought he’d known jealousy. Apparently not.

It’s true, he didn’t feel quite right with the Red Lion. But the second part of what Keith said didn’t strike a chord or string or a bell or ven a freaking triangle for that matter. Because when Blue had cut him off, she’d cut him off. He had no connection to her anymore. No matter the emotional bond that still existed there was nothing official or magical or energetic between them anymore. She only ever touched his mind with the faintest traces that Yellow or Green or Black did through the rest of Voltron.

He only had Red. Who apparently didn’t let go so easily.

Lance could feel her now, her affection for them both as Keith absent-mindedly spread his fingers over the surface of her head. Like a cat scratched behind the ears, she purred faintly. Judging by the minute reactions on his face he figured Keith felt that, too.

Good God, there was a day Lance could have stayed angry at Keith for a year. But right now, overpowering the ache in his chest, the empty spot where Blue had been, the envy gutting him like a blunt knife, the claustrophobia of sharing Red - beyond it all, he was surprised to feel genuinely happy for Keith. He’d been alone for most of his life and haunted for all of it. They were close enough to know that. And his relationship to the Red Lion was essential in gluing him together. She kept him strong and kept him safe.

No matter how jealous he was, Lance understood that. He wanted to keep Keith safe, too. Same as the rest of his team.

Keith’s head jerked up and Lance gasped when they heard the Black Lion let loose an echoing roar. Something slammed into Lance’s mind. What the hell - he knew that feeling, but he also didn’t. Deep tendrils of stellar nighttime wove through his heart and curled around his mind. Fire gently retreated and ether flooded in its place. He was a sailor with the wind at his back. He was twelve years old, hang gliding for the first time. He was fourteen, cradling his tiny, fragile niece in his arms.

Lance’s heart broke as Red slipped away but filled with strength as Black gazed down at him. All he could do was stand on unsteady legs and stare back into her glowing eyes.

Keith clapped him on the back. It was probably intended as a gesture of solidarity, but as its end result, Lance’s first act as the Black Paladin of Voltron was to slip, flailing, and fall hard to the floor.

Part 14

#plance #pidgance #flirtyrobot #vld #voltron #voltron legendary defender #vld fix it #fix it fic #canon divergence #keith #lance #lance mcclain #keith kogane #slowburn #platonic klance #black lion #red lion #black paladin lance

[chalabrun]

between the dirt & desperation, ch. 2

Word count: 2,420 Pairings: Symbrock Rating: T Warnings: Animal death, non-sexual vore, violence Summary:  Sequel to “Angry & Half in Love with You”, it’s been well over a month since Eddie moved away from San Francisco to start over in his hometown of Manhattan. Yet, it’s difficult to return to a normal life when what you were once addicted to becomes addicted to you. A/N: This is a crossover between Venom (2018) and Sam Raimi’s Spiderman trilogy (2002-07)

( READ ON AO3 ) 

The symbiote was relentlessly starved when they finally made some sort of harbor a dark place where grime crawled deeper and lower than the rats Venom gorged itself upon, being generous, ginger. It withdrew from coating the whole of Eddie’s body and instead emerged like a serpent, slithering and bobbing as it devoured what it could while Eddie watched on apathetically. Not because he didn’t care, but because it held less horror for him than it should. Those few days together—had it been less? Whatever it was, there had been no time to slow down and think. Here and now, in the deafening silence, there was.

Without having to be told, he knew that it’d known Maria. They had been together for a time, and it let him access that trust through the hum of tension. The hum that sometimes growled. A pigeon panicked and squawked when Venom lunged and crushed the bird in its jaws in a sickening crunch of finality, feathers and thin talons sticking from its jaws before swallowing it down whole. Then, more rats. More crunching and devouring and sick noises instead of what hung in the air like a noose.

Eddie squatted on a crushed cardboard box while it ate, unwilling to shut his eyes lest he saw what Venom did. The blood, the viscera, a taste that would make him retch if he let himself. His skin felt clammy. Oh, he’d been sweating. His clothes clung to his body unpleasantly, almost like he’d been dipped in water. Was it him, or Venom? He couldn’t tell anymore.

All he did know was, in the silence, there wasn’t any censor. While Venom feigned like it was fully absorbed in foraging for prey, everything passed between them. Every badly suppressed sensation, emotion. The cautious relief, the tension, the anxiety—those were Venom’s, he thinks. Or was it both? All Eddie really knew was his own caution, the tension, the suspicion, the—oh. So, there was some overlap. Did he fear it? Suddenly, everything he’d done came in sharp relief and the last month had felt like withdrawal. This…it was like taking a hit but getting none of the high.

Being too fucking aware to drown in the weird colors, to smell sound.

“So, how long are we gonna hole down here and pretend what happened didn’t, Ven?” It’s asked suddenly, tiredly, and now Venom flinches. He can feel it all the way up the appendage. Like a shiver down a spine. His spine, Venom’s? Or theirs. Regardless, Eddie sounded tired, frustrated. Probably not the most inviting front.

Venom slurps down the last rat. It’s morbid seeing it slide down his throat, and he can’t stand to watch. He pressed a finger to his temple, expelling a weary and terse sigh.

“…We’re sorry, Eddie. There’s just so much we didn’t understand—”

He can feel it. Like Venom is going to crumble, like he’d blow away if he didn’t clamor towards Eddie and twist around him for dear life. Eddie wants it, too. He wants it so much he can feel his fingers twitching, biceps tense like they’d open up at the slightest insistence and seize the symbiote in a crushing embrace. But, they can’t. Not yet. Not when Eddie doesn’t trust it. Even if he can feel its fragility, its heart that throbbed painfully.

Not when he can’t distinguish what belongs to whom.

“…Could’ve asked me. I wouldn’t have minded, y’know. Just sat down and watched some fuckin’ boring documentary about… I dunno, goddamn Plato for somethin’. Freud. Those guys. Knew all about how humanity ticks.” Eddie dropped his face in his hand, digging into the hair at his hairline as he watched a trickle of water run past to a storm sewer. He wanted to sleep. But, he couldn’t just leave things hanging like this.

A drop on his forehead. Who…? Nah, it was just beginning to rain. He forgot how cold and dreary Manhattan could be. Glancing towards Venom, the symbiote looking like the alien equivalent of a kicked puppy, the downpour starting.

“Com’mere. I don’t want ya gettin’ all soaked like that.” Putting his hood up, Venom retracted some back into his body, like ink soaking up parchment. The part that remained hung on the hoodie’s collar and tucked itself beneath his chin, warm and pliant beneath his stubble. Meekly did Venom rub himself against his chin, which admittedly tickled. Eddie broke out in a quick grin and chuffed softly, which earned a relieved pause from Venom as it continued to nuzzle into his jawline.

It was a start, at least.

“…We don’t want to end up like last time. We missed you, Eddie. …We want a second chance.” Venom’s words were quiet and admissive, and totally vulnerable. He could feel a tightness in his chest that wasn’t his own.

Eddie nodded, a thoughtful silence descending even as he got soaked, rain dripping from the lip of his hood. “I wanna trust you, Ven. I do, it’s just— …Funny. How people all over the world lead these fuckin’ lonely lives. Top brass. Lowest scum. And everyone in between who doesn’t have anyone to understand them. Not in the way they wish they could. Boy, if they knew the damn cost of it all.” Venom filled a side of Eddie’s hoodie, nuzzling yearningly into the blond’s cheek and rubbing affectionately. Absently, he grazed his lips against the symbiote that began purring deeply. “And now, I got it. Y’think it wouldn’t be this fuckin’ complicated, sharing headspace an’ all.”

Venom breathed softly against Eddie’s neck, pressing into his pulse. “You were kind to her. We saw it through her eyes. You were a good friend.”

Eddie swallowed thickly. “Yeah,” he agreed hoarsely, voice cracking huskily, feeling his eyes mist wetly. “Too bad she ain’t here to say so. Fuck—”

“You’re a real hard guy to track down, Brock. Guess I’m lucky you didn’t get very far.”

Eddie reared to stand and upset whatever water had been accumulating on him, like a statue suddenly come to life, perched over a gloomy autumn fountain and under a funeral shroud sky. There was the red. Red he remembered. But somehow shouldn’t but did. Spiderman. He’d seen him before in the papers, but that red looked different in person. Realer. Too vivid for a dark city.

“Spiderman? Th’ hell’re you doin’ here?” Eddie asked in surprise, Venom having vanished at the right time.

“Enough of the talk. You’ve got the symbiote, Brock. A lot of people are gonna get hurt if you don’t give it up.”

“What, is there a crime against loiterin’ in alleyways? Or are ya suddenly an avenger for fuckin’ vermin?” the blond demanded incredulously, those inscrutable opaque lenses making it impossible to tell what the vigilante was thinking. He could feel Vernom’s trepidation evolve into something malicious, tenebrous shadow building behind him like a nascent forest fire.

“Spiderman!” Venom seethed menacingly, claws curling and fangs bared menacingly. Its eyes narrowed to slits, Eddie feeling its inky substance creep up his skin and over his clothes. So, it was really coming to that? That they’d be the villains jumping innocent people in dark alleyways?

Spiderman poised himself to attack, reflexively wheeling a step back when Venom’s form grew like a cloud, sucking Eddie into that familiar black mist. “Wait—you two know each other?”

“Boy, I wish it was just a mutual acquaintanceship, but I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t know what a threat that thing is, Brock. And you’re in danger if you keep using it!” Spiderman proclaimed in a truer accusation. “You have no idea what this thing is really capable of.”

The cogs in Eddie’s brain began turning. “Wait—so you were the schmuck who handed Ven over to those exploitive creeps?!” Anger. There it was. Like finding a pilot light beneath a tank of petrol and lighting it. There was an emotion he didn’t mind sharing for once. And it was symbiotic between them.

A rumbling noise interrupted what the two were saying. “I bonded with him temporarily, Eddie. Because…I missed it. I missed us. Spiderman treated us like another suit. It lasted for a few days before a Dr. Richard Reeds parted us.” The hiss it uttered was low and banal, burgeoning with resentment. And now, of course Spiderman wanted to do the right thing and put them on the slaughterhouse floor they liked to call justice. “We’re a monster to him, Eddie.”

Whatever had gone on between them suddenly didn’t matter. Spiderman acted on impulse and slung his webbing on two dumpsters and hauled them back manfully, both metal cannisters careening and bouncing roughly on concrete before Venom enveloped him completely, like drowning in those 20,000 leagues under the sea without a submarine. It was familiar, like a womb. They were one again.

“YOU HURT US!” Venom roared as it caught one of the dumpsters and pitched it at Spiderman who reflexively leaped over it. “And now—you threatened to hurt Eddie! We’ll never forgive you!” It was less heartbreak here and more a possessive and righteous anger. At least, righteous to them. Here, in the darkness, everything felt right. Only Spiderman was wrong. He would never part them!

“Brock, if you’re in here, listen to me: I know how it feels! It feels great, at first. But this…this thing, it’s leeching on everything wrong! It makes it worse and—” Venom roared indignantly and tore the other dumpster in two, leaping to bear the weight on its blow that Spiderman barely avoided, vaulting into the air several feet up and racing up the side of the building. “—It’s going to ruin you if you keep this up!”

“SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP!” Venom roared furiously, its own webbing soaring its body into the sky as it gave chase to Spiderman who took off in hot pursuit of a place predictably further away from civilians. “We won’t let you or anyone else separate us ever again!” Rage. The white-hot, poetic rage that would make the stars tremble. A romantic rage of tortured poets who saw the futility of gray skies and death. It was here, raw and maligned. Except towards Eddie. Despite everything, nothing could make it hurt Eddie.

His Eddie.

Spiderman landed squarely against the side of a warehouse, practically soundless. He couldn’t let innocent people get hurt, but inside no one was there in the charge of shifts. Maybe it’d cause damage, but all he cared about was the preservation of life. Not lost assets.

Adroitly did he use his webbing to open a narrow enough window near the roof and catapult his way through it, assessing his surroundings in the blink of an eye. The stacks were at least a few stories high, enough to provide ammunition against the symbiote. And—speakers!

Venom rocketed through the same window with a loud violence, struggling to squeeze through compared to the slender Spider. Glass shards rained as it landed heavily, a shake in the air as its tongue tasted the air. “We can hear you, little spider! Climbing higher up the water spout, ha!” the symbiote taunted, arrogance rife in its very veins. It stalked the long avenues of boxes and paraphernalia, Spiderman high aloft and studying its movements.

Wait—were those exhaust vents? And tankards of gas.

That gave him an idea.

“Hey, ugly! Over here!” The jeer got Venom’s attention, the symbiote snarling as it propelled itself upwards and swung through the rafters, just rows away from Spiderman. The masked arachnid dropped down when Venom barreled through and came too close, landing deftly on his feet before he found the exhaust vents. It was natural gas—perfect!

Venom waited for a brief moment, scenting the air for Peter. Quietly, and as swiftly as he could, he knocked off the spouts of two of the two natural gas tanks and a high pennywhistle of air pitched and already the stench of natural gas flooded the room. Booking it from the narrow office, he stood before and where Venom could see him. Luckily, the office’s doors looked sturdy and all but one entrance were locked, as there was only one way in or out.

“Looking for me? Guess we’re like the tortoise and the hare here, aren’t we, big guy?”

Already with a thin pride as it was, Venom snapped and devolved into a galloping morass of oily sludge as it raced towards him, Peter running headlong towards it as if embracing death. Except, he wasn’t. The smell of gasoline was acrid and likely set to implode at any minute.

At the last second did Peter dive aside while Venom barreled heedlessly into the office, ramming into several desks and overturning them in the process. Papers upset by the collision created a hail of white, obscuring their view while Peter locked the office shut with the fumes pent up inside, using his webbing to topple a row of shelving that landed cacophonously and shed its merchandise to effectively lock the pair inside, hauling it with inhuman strength to barricade the windowless room shut.

Feeling the very air shimmer with heat, Peter launched himself skyward and propelled himself by slinging through the skylight, willing that he was right and no one else was around to get hurt. He raced away as fast as his webs could take him, several blocks so before an explosion rocked the air and he was sundered to skid to a stop on a sidewalk, the silent night brightening hellishly as an inferno erupted and plumes of smoke roiled enormously and black into that grey sky, dying it sable.

Peter coughed and groaned softly, rolling on his back as he slowly got himself back on his feet, wiping away a skid mark of dirt on his mask.

Police and fire engines raced past, a cold breeze of their speeding coloring the night that same, vivid red. So different from the violence several blocks away, the vigilante’s heart heavy with a deep regret.

He didn’t like it when people died. Especially people who didn’t know what they’d gotten themselves into, but what choice did he have? Peter watched on as people slowly emerged from their homes, bundling themselves in coats and shawls as they gossiped worriedly for the flames licking the sky.

Peter bowed his head.

He had to get home. His Aunt May would be wondering where he was. Especially after all of this.

#eddie brock #venom #symbrock #veddie #peter parker #crossover #vore cw #kinda #if this doesn't make the fandom hate me idk what will :'D #angst gremlin here with more angst woop woop