#the fact that this man has fangs like that i want him to send me to the hospital | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sky-is-the-limit · 7 months

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(I saw this divine creation by @ave661 and went into spiral. I need to be spayed.)

C: NSFW/Mirror sex

P:F!reader x Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick

You dare to voice an insecurity about your body in front of Gaz? He wouldn't stop until the thought seemed like a silly jest in your head.

''Eyes up here, look at me angel-'' His gaze slowly drifted from your eyes to idolize the rest of your body in the mirror, enamored by every inch of naked skin in his hands, utterly lost in the sweet euphoria of your presence.

There was a throbbing between your legs, a heavy pressure filling you up whilst he was caressing your breasts at a painfully slow pace, fingertips nudging your sensitive nipples with every motion. He was truly exploring your body, the look in his eyes priceless as though holding the world's most desired treasure.

''Do you see how beautiful you are like this? So fucking beautiful baby, made for this- '' His free hand grasped his cock before guiding himself between the sticky mess of your thighs, notching slightly at your entrance whilst coting himself with your slick.

The sensation made you whimper, arching your back against his chest desperately as he slipped himself through your soaked folds before thrusting into your core with a groan. After the initial stretch and fullness, you briskly adjusted to his size as you had so often before.

''Made to take my cock-“ His words were pure heat against the shell of your ear, thrusting his hips faster, free hand moving to grab the base of your throat, fingers settling on your neck like the finest necklace.

“Kyle-” You gasp reverently, feeling him pushing against your entrance unhurriedly, sharp sparks of pleasure buzzing through you at the hazy state of him.

''Look at yourself, fuck- you were carved by angels darling-'' The sight of yourself staring back at you makes you embarrassed by how depraved you seem from his touch, hickeys decorating your neck, trailing down to your bare chest, your thighs glistening with your own wetness dripping down your skin.

“No shying away.'' Kyle mumbled against your neck before giving your ass a firm smack, trailing his hand up to your jaw so he could turn your gaze back in the mirror. Watching yourself in a state like this feels like an out-of-body experience.

“Watch yourself.'' In the midst of every slow, hard, and purposeful thrust that he made, he held his mouth close to your ear, drawing out moans loud enough for anyone within reach to overhear. You obeyed to his words naturally, craning your neck up to meet his half-lidded eyes.

''Watch how breathtaking you are-" Your walls convulse, shuddering around his length, sucking him in deeper while he moved one hand down to your clit, using his thumb to rub softly, in small circles causing you to mewl out, tears forming with the intensity of pleasure filling up your body.

You can't even remember what came out of your mouth, leading up to this. It feels like you lost any ability to form words or thoughts any longer as Kyle continues snapping at a furious pace, cock touching your cervix with every thrust, gradually increasing the speed of his thumb, tightening circles around your clit as he put more force into slapping his hips against yours.

''Watch how good I'm fucking you-” He punctures each word with a thrust as his own climax builds low in his abdomen. He knows exactly how his voice alone can push you closer to the edge and uses it as his strongest weapon. In the reflection, you see him smirking proudly, sharp fangs flashing against your shoulder.

''Watch yourself come undone.''

#the fact that this man has fangs like that i want him to send me to the hospital #till every hole in my body can recognise every atom #I WANT HIM SO BAD HELP #kyle gaz garrick #kyle gaz garrick smut #gaz smut #gaz x reader #kyle garrick #cod x reader #cod smut #call of duty #captain price #captain price smut #task force 141 #141 x reader #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #könig

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morgan-the-lonely-brick · 7 months

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Hi, I still have so many feelings about this, I will never shut up. I also made a gifset out of it because watching the video wasn't enough, i need to memorize every pixel.

(These gifs are free to download & use, they literally took me 5 minutes, so... cheers~)

"It is your job to f-" still haunts me. Also the way light falls on his face exactly when he fumbles is like him getting exposed. Shining a light on his fakery so the others see through it? And then he retreats back into the shadow trying to hide again, but does so only partially? Amazing.

The quick look up at Fang, he's so adorable🥺 i think for a moment there he actually considers admiting something's wrong but backs out of it and right back into defense. The way he freezes at the end sends shivers down my spine. it's so personal to me, Con, staaahp, fr! Also we get the "unhand me" line, or rather [if you touch me now i will start crying and that's embarrassing so don't touch me] That's how i see it.

Now we get to the good shit. Looking up trying not to cry. Avoiding any and all eye contact. His fckn lips shaking. You can clearly see that he's broken by the fact they've even noticed THIS. That expression is like a defeated "oh fuck me". Him being off focus makes this bit even worse.

Actually I was looking at this bit a lot and it almost seems like he doesn't know what Fang is trying to do at first? Like he was defensive because he didn't realise Fang was going in for a hug? Or maybe it's a reflex for anything coming from behind. He's a fighter, after all.

He looks ahead, approximately where Archie and Jim are standing as if to see their reactions or maybe seek help?! But then you can see the moment he understands - he turns his head back towards Fang and leans into it, with a hint of disbelief on his face.

God, the loose strand of hair adds so much to that delicious skrunklyness he has going on. He's so pretty...

In this gif it's clear he's leaning into Fang a lot, even actively pressing his head against him. He could've easily turned away or pulled away, but didn't. He WANTS to be comforted. He WANTS to be held. The way he scans over Frenchie as if checking what he's about to do, I'm suspecting he like. Put a hand on him somewhere or something of the sort. I am so unwell from this-

For the last time he tries to produce words, but it comes out as more of a moan than anything, so he gives up and bites his lip. (im loosing my sanity, Con, what have you done)

Also Frenchie's pout is my H2O He literally went :c

Izzy looks over to Frenchie again as if to verify he's not there to mock him and when it turns out that no. He actually wants to comfort him. Izzy fully looses it and lets out the most gut wrenching puppy dog skrunkly whimper ever produced by a human man. It must mean so much to him... Those last few micro expressions are killing me. He looks up again as if to say "oh god they mean it. They don't think im stupid for this, they're actually taking me seriously" And he can't believe it, he's so dumbfounded that poor guy.

What if this was his first hug in ages? I wouldn't be surprised...

Im breaking my own heart with this why do i do this-

#Ofmd #ofmd spoilers #Ofmd s2 #Ofmd s2 spoilers #Izzy hands #ofmd frenchie #Ofmd fang #Ofmd izzy

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moremaybank · 1 year

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For the vampire Mikaelson’s, what part of their lovers body is their favourite place to bite? Neck, wrist, inner thigh etc and how likely are they to ravish them or make it a more intimate experience? 🖤

vampire!mikaelson's favourite place to feed from you...

a/n: i didn't include finn because ik he hated being a vampire and i honestly don't think he'd really enjoy it. also, i'm lazy. oops. 18+, sort of sexual content/sexual themes (not full smut but explicit mentions of it)

mikaelson siblings masterlist

elijah

i think elijah would love drinking from your wrist

i feel like his biggest fear would be hurting you, especially after how he learned that he was the one who killed tatia

he often doesn't trust himself when it comes to the women he loves. in turn, he will pierce your wrist as he drinks from you, one hand pressing it to his mouth while his other hand cups your face gently, holding your gaze on him. his eyes remain open, and they're fixed on you as a silent reminder not to get carried away and draw more blood than he should

i also feel like the eye contact makes it so much more intimate and makes the experience more special

if the two of you are making love and you ask him to feed on you, he has mixed emotions. he doesn't want to cause you any pain, but the feeling of feeding from you while he fucks you is wondrous

and so he hesitates

but all it takes is a whole lot of love and encouragement to get him there. you tell him you know he wouldn't willingly hurt you, and that you trust him more than you've ever trusted anyone

"please, 'lijah. i want you to. i want to satiate every one of your carnal desires. let me do this for you."

he is now putty in your hands

klaus

klaus loves sinking his fangs into your neck

99.9% of the time that he feeds on you is when you're in bed

the man is kinky, we all know that

once he gets a taste of you, he's going full on feral

he can truly feel you everywhere and he's so obsessed with you that it just gets him excited

he'll have one hand bracing the side of your neck he isn't drinking from, keeping you in place

he'll litter wet kisses over the skin, nibbling here and there and leaving behind small love bites if he's in the mood to mark you a little bit more

he begins to pound into you rougher as he feels the satisfaction of your blood sliding down his throat

it's hot, and tingly, and you

the man simply cannot resist

your cries are getting louder and it's spurring him on even more

he pulls back from your neck and you see the blood dripping from his lips, and he kisses you

you taste the savoury, metallic flavour of your blood

it's so sexy you lose your mind and fall apart as he pounds into you

is it hot in here? i just started sweating randonly. wonder what that's about

kol

kol, kol, kol

our cheeky little bastard

he's obsessed with feeding from your inner thighs

his large hands are kneading and squeezing your flesh, fingers brushing and trailing over your skin and getting you all worked up as he inches closer and closer to where you yearn for him the most

"kol, stop teasing"

he draws his fangs out

"all in good time, darling. i'm enjoying you"

he's such a fucking tease it's torturous

but you can't lie about the fact that it pays off in the end

also, not to be crude, but...if you have a uterus and happen to be on your period...

man is straight FEASTING

this is just so on brand for him though, not gonna lie

he's a psychopath in the best way possible and he's down for anything

"i can smell you from here, love, but i'd much rather be tasting you"

like babes, you can do whatever you want

"did i mention that orgasms help soothe menstrual cramps? no? well, they do. i'm just saying"

rebekah

i feel like our bex is a tits person

i can just imagine it

you're walking around in a low cut top and her eyes land on the bite marks adorning the ample flesh of your breasts

and it sends her off the deep endddd

she does her little smirk as her eyes trail down and you're blushing

"bex, stop. i can't focus"

"i'm sorry, love. i just thoroughly enjoy seeing the marks i've left you with. it turns me on"

and then you guys are back in bed

you're both insatiable

in-sa-tia-ble

or a back-of-the-shoulder person

you're both sat in front of a mirror

you're in front of her in between her spread legs and she's feeding on you as her hands roam all over your body

she may or may not be toying with your clit softly as she soothes you from the slight sting

rebekah just give me a chance

pLS

i beg

mikaelsons tag list (join here!): @princess-charming-01 @maybankslover @darkmoonbloodshake @kittyqrt @techlipse @the-kaya-aa @catmikaelson20 @hopesdadswife @amournoir @skydisneylover @iluvniklaus @diyabhanushali1 @your_best_hoe @ijustlovetoread @lyn07 @elenavampire21 @theesexystallion @dudenhaaa27 @alexxavicry @@kenzi-woycehoski @elijahssuit @shawnspoems

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qtboni · 9 months

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I saw your requests were open and thought I'd send something in :]

What about a reader that has like really prominent canine teeth that are a bit longer that usual and pointy so they kinda look like fangs. I thought either Ghost or König would be perfect for that, because I think both of them would find it secretly really cool and extremely hot. Maybe there could be a hint of spiciness where reader bites them and they get like super feral for it?

Feel free to ignore this if it's not for you. Have a good day!!

HELLO BB !! omg what a hot req honestly ?! YES . [ fanart credits : vhenan_virabelasan on ig and ave661 on tumblr ]

╰﹒ 𝐀 𝐋𝐈𝐋' 𝐕𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐄 𝐔 𝐀𝐑𝐄 !

PAIRING: Simon 'Ghost' Riley X Reader

C/W: MDNI. fluff + smut, f!reader, neck sucking w/ fangs, hickeys, makin' out, praise, dry humping, and simon teasing the heck outta you.

W/C: 3k bubs

As you looked in the mirror, you couldn't help but be drawn to your sharp and pointed teeth again. They were unlike anything you had ever seen before, almost as if they were... fangs.

You felt self-conscious about them at first, but as time went on, you began to embrace them. Because lucky for you, your partner, Simon, had no problem accepting them either.

In fact, he found them quite attractive. Your fangs may have been different, but he loved the way they made your smile stand out. In his eyes, they were a unique feature that set you apart from everyone else. And he couldn't resist the urge to tease you about them, making you blush every time <3

You were cuddling with Simon at your home, feeling the warmth of his hand against yours. His fingers were calloused from work, and the feeling was comforting and reassuring. He suddenly stopped from carresing the top of your hand with his thumb and pulled you closer to him.

"You know, I've been meaning to tell you something," He trails off as he grins at you. "But I don't know if you'll like it or not."

His words filled you with anticipation, and you leaned in to hear what he had to say.

"What is it, Si'?" You looked up at him, curiosity flickering in your eyes.

"Lovie," He leaned in closer to you, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. "I think your cute lil' fangs are quite sexy, aye?"

You felt your cheeks turn rosy at his words, unable to contain your embarrassment. His words sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn't help but blush at the compliment.

As you looked up at him, you saw the warmth in his eyes and felt your heart skipping a beat. "Really?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Yes, really," Simon leaned even closer to you, his breath warm on your neck now. "Think they're really unique, lovie... intriguing actually."

You were left stunned, wide eyed, mouth slightly gaping. The sudden silence was almost deafening, and all you could hear was the sound of your own heartbeat.

Simon's eyes met yours, and for a moment, it felt like time had stopped. His fingers twined through yours, and you felt the warmth of his touch through your skin. You couldn't help but lean in towards him, feeling like you were falling into him and never wanting to come back up.

He leaned closer to you. The smell of his cologne was overpowering, but also comforting in a way. You felt his breath against your ear as he spoke.

"They make you even more beautiful than you already are." His words were like honey, and you felt as if your body were turning to jelly. You were so focused on him that you almost forgot where you were.

You couldn't help but let out a small giggle, feeling like a school girl around her crush. This man was dangerous, but you weren't sure if you wanted to escape his grasp.

"Thank you," you whispered, feeling like your words were falling short of what you wanted to say. "I've always been self-conscious about my teeth, but hearing you say that makes me feel like they're a good thing."

Simon's smile widened, and he leaned in even closer, almost touching his lips to yours. You suddenly felt your heart racing, and your mind was spinning. You could feel the blood rushing through your cheeks so you turned away, feeling your blush deepen.

"It's almost like I've got a cutie of a vampire with me everywhere I go, love," You hear Simon let out a laugh and his touch warming you up from the inside with his hands now placed on to your thighs.

"Vampire?" You turned to him quizzically.

Simon's laugh only made your face flush even more, and you couldn't help but give him a playful shove with a soft 'Hey' coming out of your lips.

His hands going up to your hips sent a shiver down your spine, and you had to fight the urge to pull away. The warmth of his touch was almost too much to handle, and you felt your heart skipping a beat once more.

"Yes, a vampire," he said with a playful smile. "The way that your fangs protrude from your lips, it's almost like you're a bloodsucker," he continued, his voice low and husky.

You had to admit that the notion of being a vampire was a bit unsettling, but the way he talked about it made you almost want to believe it. You couldn't help but give him another playful push, trying to fight the excitement that was building up inside of you.

"I'll have you know that I'm far too sweet to be a vampire," you replied with a smile. "But if you keep calling me one, maybe I'll bite," you added, trying to sound menacing but coming off sounding almost seductive.

Simon let out another laugh, it was deep and playful, and something about the sound made smile even wider. You feel his grip on your hips tightened, and you felt the heat from his fingers press into your flesh. The warmth was almost too much to handle, and you felt a sudden urge to move closer to him.

"Oh, is that a promise?" Simon's voice was low and husky, almost as if he too was feeling the same pull that you were. His smile was playful, but there was something dangerous in his eyes, as if he was trying to tease you.

You couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement at the thought of something happening between the two of you. You felt your hands instinctively move closer to his body, placing them on his shoulder as you leaned in closer to him.

"That is a definite promise," you said, your voice almost a whisper.

The tension between the two of you was almost unbearable, and you felt as if the very air around you was charged with electricity. Your heart was racing, and every one of your senses was tuned into him, almost as if you were in a trance.

"Prove it then, lil' vamp'," Simon said, his voice almost a whisper, yet somehow still a command.

Without another thought, your body moved towards him, and your lips met his. They were soft and supple, and the feeling of his lips against yours was almost overwhelming.

"Naughty girl..." he mutters under his breathe. You couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement as the kiss deepened, and your hands found their way to his hair. You gasped lightly when his grip tightens on your waist. You feel him smiling in the kiss as his tongue licked your bottom lips.

For the longest time, it felt as though you two were the only ones in the world. There was nothing else that mattered, and all of your worries and troubles seemed to melt away. The kiss was almost electric, and you felt like you were on top of the world.

The kiss ended all too soon, and you both pulled away to catch your breath. Simon's eyes were locked onto yours, and the only sound that could be heard was your ragged breath.

"I think I've proven that I can pull it off," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

"I think you have," Simon replied, a small grin playing on his lips. "I'm impressed."

He pulled his embrace away from yours, but his hands remained on your waist. "But..." he trailed off and you could feel his grip tighten slightly there. You felt your breathe hitch.

You leaned in closer, intrigued and eager to hear what he had to say. "But what?"

"Think I can recall that vampires have some favorite parts," he said with a sly smile. He leaned in closer, his voice now a whisper that was barely audible. "Don't they, lovie?"

The air around you seemed to vibrate, as if you had just discovered a secret about his powers. You felt your heart race in anticipation as you waited for him to reveal more.

Simon looked at you with a knowing smile, and you could feel your heart pounding with anticipation.

"Well, if it isn't my favorite part," he said, his fingertips grazing your neck as he spoke, making you gasp, a silent moan seeping out of your lips.

His voice was low and husky, almost a whisper, and every word felt like a caress on your skin. You felt your mind becoming fogged, almost as if you were in a daze. You couldn't help but lean in closer to him, craving the warmth of his touch.

"This?" you whisper at him as you carressed his neck, feeling him letting out a groan of appreciation. You felt your body become flushed, your breath coming short, and you knew that you were in trouble.

"Yes, love," His hands moved to your shoulders, and for a moment, you thought that he was going to kiss you again. Instead, he moved down to your collarbone and began to trace his fingertips along it.

You felt a rush of excitement ripple through your body, and your heart began to race even faster. You couldn't help but let out a small moan, almost as if you'd been waiting for this moment for an eternity.

As you met his half-lidded eyes, you couldn't help but feel drawn to him even more. He seemed to have a power over you, a primal energy that made you want to surrender to him completely. "Tell me," he said, his voice almost a command.

You felt your heart pounding in your chest, and every nerve in your body was alert and alive. You wanted nothing more than to please him, to give him what he wanted.

You felt a blush creep up your neck, and you felt like your voice was shaking. "I would say the neck," you said, your voice almost a whisper.

Simon chuckled, and the sound sent a delicious electric down your spine. "You're right," he said. "The neck is the best place to taste."

He feels you writhing from his touch, desperate little mewls coming out of your pretty lips, and he swore he's losing his composure. His nerves were on fire.

"Please," you said, your voice sounding so desperate as you clawed at his shoulders.

"C'mon," he purred, his voice low and husky. You watch as he bears his neck to you, silently giving you permission to feast on it. "Don't go shy on me now."

He wants you to bite him, to kiss and suck on his flesh. Your eyes were drawn to his neck, and you couldn't help but feel a powerful pull towards him. You wanted nothing more than to sink your teeth into his flesh and taste him.

He leaned in closer, and you could feel his hot breath on your neck. The tension between you was almost so hot that it makes you sweat, and you felt as if you were about to explode.

"Do it, baby," he said breathlessly, his voice a command. Your teeth ached to sink into his skin, and you couldn't stop yourself. You leaned in and sank your teeth into the soft flesh of his neck.

"Good fuckin' girl," he lets out a low moan and gods, were you feeling yourself losing control by his praise. The taste of his flesh on your mouth was sweet and powerful, and it seemed to heighten every sense in your body. You couldn't stop yourself from wanting more, from needing him.

You suck down harder, making him let out a loud grunt, tighten his hold on you, and it almost as if you're trying to consume him completely. Simon loved every bit of it.

The sensation was almost too much to handle, and you felt your head spinning. You wanted nothing more than to lose yourself in this moment, and you couldn't bear the thought of it ending.

He seemed to read your thoughts as he pulled you closer to him and pulling you on top of his lap. You felt his hands moving over your body, and you leaned into him even closer, hardened nipples brushing over his clothed chest.

Simon lets out a moan when he feels you sucking on his neck deep and messy. He then shuddered when his cock strains against his jeans. He closes his eyes in pleasure as your sucking noises and soft mewls overtook his senses.

Pulling away from his neck, you saw how the hickey you painted on him was quite light. Perhaps, it was too light for your liking. You continued on with your teasing as you graze your lips on the skin below his ear.

"Love..." you hear him let out a whimper and it made your eyes roll back in pleasure as his hands found themselves inside your shirt, now kneading the exposed skin on your waist.

Your teeth nibble at the sensitive skin of his and you feel his hips rutting into yours when your teeth sucked at the sensitive part behind his ear. You tugged and sucked deeply into the skin. Simon was below you, taking it all and feeling the ends of your fangs on his neck made him groan.

You take a quick swipe of your tongue over his skin, and you can feel the blood pounding just below the surface. You lean in closer, and this time your teeth sink into his flesh. He lets out a small groan, and your instincts take over.

You start to pull at the flesh, greedily taking as much of him as you can. You can hear his breathing quicken, and you can feel his heart racing in his chest.

You feel his hand traveling down and you whined when he guided your hips down to grind on his thighs. You breathed into his neck heavily, "Si.." You then licked the now deep, angry purple hickey you made and kissed it softly.

Simon's breath hitched at your voice, and he tightened his hold around you. He looked up at you with a mixture of longing and desire in his eyes. "What is it, lovie?" he asked, his voice low and husky.

You felt a rush of excitement and nervousness course through your body. You wanted him so badly. "Simon," you whispered, feeling the need to say his name out loud. "Please.."

He smiled at you, and the warmth in his eyes made you feel as if you were melting. His lips moved to where your ear was, and he whispered, "Please what?"

You felt a shiver run down your back, and you couldn't help but feel as if you were in a dream. The sensation of his lips on your skin was almost too much to handle, and you felt a deep hunger awaken in your core.

"Take me," you whispered, voice barely above a whisper.

He pulled back slightly, his eyes locked onto yours. "Take you?" he repeated, his voice low and husky, almost a caress.

You nodded your head slightly, feeling as if you were drowning in pure pleasure. You hid your burning face away from his view but he caught on quickly as his hand shoot out to grip your chin, making you look at him.

"Like what? Hm?" he teases you as he tugs on your shorts. You let out a whimper, writhing under his hold.

He lets out a breathy chuckle.

Simon leans in just a little closer, until his face is only inches from yours. You can feel the heat of his breath on your face, and you can smell his scent. It's intoxicating, and you find yourself becoming more and more attracted to him with each passing second.

He reaches out and runs his fingers through your hair, and you can feel your body react to his touch. He caressed your cheek, his palm resting against your skin ever so gently.

Slowly, Simon leaned down to kiss the corner of your mouth, his lips lingering softly on yours. "I do want to take you," His voice was soft, but full of raw desire as he hovered over you.

You tried to hold back, but your body was betraying you, your hands moving down to his shirt, your fingers caressing his chest. He gave a low groan, the sound of his voice filling you with pleasure, and sending waves of desire throughout your body.

"Please..." You whispered.

"Oh, but you have to earn that, don't you think, baby?" Simon whispered seductively. His voice left you breathless with desire, your body shaking with anticipation.

You nodded slowly, your eyes fixed on his, filled with desire. He rose from his position close to you, his eyes blazing with lust and passion.

He leaned in, his lips just barely touching yours, his breath filling you with a sense of excitement, your body shaking with anticipation. He pulled back, looking into your eyes, his voice low and husky, his words filled with passion.

"Then earn it," He repeated passionately. His hands moved to your hips, his thumbs lightly caressing your skin, leaving you almost begging for more.

"I know you want it, love. Don't you?"

originally thought of writing for the both of em but i overlooked my skills and time ( i wrote this when i should be sleeping 😭 ) i may have overboard quite a lot with this so i hope you enjoyed !!

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sleepy-wyvern · 11 months

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His Hummingbird (Miguel O'Hara x female!reader smut)

{Angsty smut oneshot}

Available: here on Tumblr and AO3

WC: ~2.2k [oneshot]

Synopsis: You're a human female who has a boyfriend from another dimension; Spider-Man 2099. Miguel visits your apartment late at night as a surprise after not seeing him for a week.

I HAD TO GET THIS IDEA OUT OF MY HEAD BEFORE I COULD FOCUS ON OTHER FICS IM SORRY ;-;

Inspirations: the song Hummingbird by Metro Bloomin and James Blake and you know the fang scene… man definitely bites 👀

A/N: If y’all want/request more I may write more, otherwise this is a one shot ❤️ leave a comment or reblog if you liked.

Warnings/tags: Angst, Smut (18+ Minors DNI), hickies (lotsa biting), fingering, light begging from reader, p in v (condom), light male whimpering

Disclaimer: I borrowed my spanglish friend for some of the translations here. Feel free to send an ask or comment if something feels off.

Enjoy!

The moon shone bright through the heavy clouds as you wondered where your spider was.

Fighting crime, defeating evil, saving lives, all nothing you could complain about. Another universe, another day, another “business trip.” He used that phrase to try and make you feel better but it couldn’t take away from the fact that one day he may not return. Perhaps if things went bad enough you wouldn’t ever be able to know what happened to him, just spending the rest of your life waiting for someone who would never return. You tried your best to shove the thought away as you fiddled with the window latch.

You pushed open the window widely to get whatever cool night air you could in your little city apartment. As the hot summer days neared closer you took solace in the cold rainy night. The sound of the rain and the city traffic was oddly comforting.

You turned and walked toward the kitchen sink opposite of the room figuring you'd at least try to get some chores done. It was a small-ish apartment the size of a hotel room really. The biggest room was the merged kitchen and living room. Still, it was familiar enough space for you to sense the presence behind you.

The moment you turned your back you heard the window blinds gently tap against the window pane; anyone else would’ve thought that had been the wind. Anyone else without a spider person lover anyways.

“Do spiders ever use the door?” You spoke without turning around, instead you turned the faucet on to do the dishes.

“You should start locking that window at night,” his gruff voice was directly behind you.

“Miguel,” you sighed, twisting the tap off before turning around.

It had been a week since his last visit, the longest ever since you started “seeing” each other. You hadn’t put a label on anything yet, what could you call a lover from another dimension that could never stay with you?

Every time you saw him after a prolonged period you were intimidated by how he stood over you. He hadn’t meant to be intimidating as his mask was already removed, yet it was hard to ignore his height and size of his build especially when he had to look down at you.

“Nobody can enter a 4th story window,” you smiled. “Just you.”

Despite that you were angry he was gone for so long your heart melted at the sight of his brown locks falling gracefully over his forehead. He wore his blue and red spider suit as he always did when traveling.

He wrapped his large arms around your waist, pulling you close into his hot embrace. He planted a kiss on your forehead.

“Te extrañé…” He trailed off as he pulled back to look into your eyes.

He held his hands against your face when you eyed his bracelet; the thing that let him stay here with you without “glitching out.” It was a grim reminder of what could never be. Despite the comfort you got from his rough hands against your soft face, it made you sad.

“I missed you too,” you sighed, overlapping his hand with your smaller one.

The bracelet was cool to the touch as you frowned. “Where have you been?” You scolded, “You told me you’d be back by Monday. It’s Friday!”

“I’m sorry,” he sighed furrowing his brows. “It’s work.”

“It always is,” You turn around putting your hands on the smooth countertop.

“I’ll make it up to you,” he offered, sounding sad and hopeful.

You knew he didn’t mean to make you worry or make you sad. You both wished things were different. It would make it so much easier. You knew though that if he could change things he would and you didn’t want to hold what was out of his control against him. It wasn’t his fault you were born in different worlds, different universes. It didn’t help that you weren’t a spider person either.

You felt his hands gently against your waist as he moved closer to you.

“I'm sorry." He sighed. "Mi pequeña colibrí…” he whispered into your ear. His breath was hot and heavy against your neck sending shivers down your body.

“Oh stop, you can’t use the español to make me feel better! No fair!” You laughed.

He placed a kiss on your ear that tickled before you spun back around, wrapping your arms over his shoulders.

“My spiderman,” You giggled as his look of concern melted into happiness. "I'm not mad at you. Just try to let me know if you'll be late next time."

The corner of his lips turned upward ever so slightly in relief. "I promise."

Another thing that was likely yours only; Miguel’s smile. When Jessica met you she was surprised you were even real. She warned you to not mention much of Miguel’s personal life activities to the other spider people but it was hard to remember. Once you accidentally mentioned the flowers on your table were from Miguel to Gwen she nearly fainted. You adored the way he treated you special even if you weren’t sure why he chose you. You could never be mad at him for something he couldn't control.

He brushed his thumbs in a circular motion against your waist as he held you. His dark eyes were full of love as he looked down at you.

You ran your fingers back through his brown hair. He seemed to sigh beneath your touch, it was thrilling in a way to know he was comfortable enough around you to let his guard down. Nobody else could see Miguel the way you did.

“You need to stop being so stressed. Relax more.” You sighed bringing your fingers to his forehead. “Grumpy wrinkles.”

He chuckled low as he held you tightly. He brought his face down into your neck to inhale the sweet scent of your perfume that he loved so much.

“I know what helps with that,” his voice was deep and silky and fuck it made your body melt.

You giggled as his sweet kisses turned into loving nibbles. He was careful to not hurt you with his fangs but he knew how much you loved his gentle biting. You had a hunch he loved it as much as you did. On top of that it’s been a week without it and damn you missed him.

You let his touch overwhelm you as he held you, softly biting against your delicate skin. His body tensed against you the moment you let out a small pleasurable gasp.

“Hm,” He huffed deeply as he pulled back. “I forgot my strength. I’m sorry, mi colibrí.”

He brought his fingers up to your neck, wiping away the wetness before examining the hickie left behind.

“That’s what makeup is for,” you reassured. “Now, you have a week to make up for…”

“No better time to start than now,” he knocked off the stack of papers that were laying on the countertop.

Before you could react he grabbed your hips, lifting you into the air. You let out a faint gasp as you wrapped your legs around him.

“Miguel!” You scolded as he smirked at you, placing you on the empty countertop space. “Naughty, what has become of you?” You teased him.

“You have become of me,” he pressed his hot lips against yours hungrily.

He brought his hands around to the back of your head holding you close so he could kiss you deeply. It wasn’t long before you could feel his cool tongue against your lips. You opened your mouth letting him in, his cold mouth meeting your warm one.

You brought your hands to his shoulders feeling the fabric of his suit. Eagerly you moved your fingers to his back, grasping for the zipper. You rotated between feeling the muscles of his back and fumbling with the damn zipper making your kisses turn sloppy.

“Eager aren’t we?” He laughed low and deep in his throat, it wasn’t a mocking tone. In fact you knew he loved it.

He shimmied his shoulders out of the suit and it took all of your power not to basically drool over him. You wasted no time bringing your hands to feel his hot skin, tracing your fingers lovingly over the scars on his chest.

You buried your fingers in his hair as your lips met again. The man loves to kiss you, almost as much as he loves to bite you. He took the opportunity to switch to biting your neck whenever you pulled back to breathe.

He slowly brought his fingers underneath the hem of your shirt, running his calloused fingers along your silky smooth torso. You separated from him only long enough to remove the pesky fabric of your top before diving back into him again.

You could feel the bulge in his underwear against your leg as he leaned forward to undo the clasp of your bra. He brought his large hands to your breasts lovingly cupping and massaging them. Goosebumps rose against his skin at the sound of your soft, lustful moans.

“More baby,” you whispered.

He brought his lips to your nipple, his hair tickling your chest. You tilted your head down letting yourself get lost in the scent of his shampoo while he planted wet kisses against your stiff nipple. His grabs on your body slowly turned more rough as you felt his teeth against your skin.

“More,” you demand. It’s been a week and damn you wanted him more than anything.

He hooked his fingers underneath the soft fabric of your leggings and panties as you shimmied to help. Your body shivered as the fabric pooled to the floor. Miguel looked at your body with a mixture of awe and hunger- a deep lust filled hunger.

He brought his index and middle finger to your entrance, smiling when he felt how wet you were.

“You really did miss me huh, mi pequeña colibrí?”

You nodded “mmm’, yes I did. Need you, Miguel.” You whined feeling him circle your entrance.

He wasn’t cruel to make you wait as he plunged his fingers in. Your back arched as you gasped, spreading your legs desperate for him deeper. Feeling his fingers arch against your walls and watching the movements of his wrist as he pleased you was intoxicating.

Still you wanted more.

“Please, baby,” you whimpered.

Your body whined when he stopped and pulled his fingers out.

“What is it, cariño?” His voice purred. He brought his fingers to his lips, rolling his tongue over your sweetness.

“You,” your lip quivered as you shuddered from the cool apartment air. “Please.”

You knew this was a game he could normally play for a long time. Not today though, neither of you could handle it. Instead your heart raced as he nodded to the kitchen drawer where you kept the condoms since counter sex had become a more regular activity.

He brought his large, hard cock out of his boxers, stroking lightly. You swallowed at the sight wondering how you could ever take him.

He smirked at your expression “are you afraid?”

You shook your head, reaching your hands out to his broad shoulders trying to bring him closer. You fumbled with the condom, bringing your hands to his hot cock. He gasped lightly as your hands held him him, rolling the condom down over him.

He lined his tip against your entrance, soaking himself in your juices and teasing you just a little.

“Are you ready?” He whispered and for the first time tonight you heard his voice start to shake.

You bit your lip as you nodded “I am.”

He slowly slid himself in as you let out a moan of tight, firey pressure. The moment he was fully inside you both let out a gasp; you both waited so long for this moment. You wrapped your arms around him as he buried his face in the crook of your neck while you got used to the feeling of all of him inside.

He waited for you to nod and give him the okay to continue. He planted a kiss on your cheek as he pulled out slightly before thrusting in again. You spread your legs further apart, moaning at the next deeper thrust. You grasped at the muscles of his back for an anchor.

“Just like that, cariño,” He whispered, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

He thrusted against, harder and faster as you felt your pleasure start to build. He kept a lovely, steady pace and you knew it wouldn’t be long until you reached your climax.

“Oh Miguel,” you moaned, making him shiver. “Baby, I’m close.”

You grasped at his back desperate to have more of him. His heavy breaths and grunts sent electricity through you while his cock pressed lovingly against that sweet spot.

“Don’t move,” his voice was a quiet whimper while you held him.

Fuck, hearing him whimper always sent you feral but you did your best to keep still while he pounded into your tight cunt. Your back arched as the waves of pleasure crashed down into a lovely orgasm.

“You feel so good,” he whispered in your ear.

You knew he was close and you wrapped your legs around him not letting him go.

“I’m, I’m-“ his voice broke off as you felt his cock twitch inside of you.

His arms held you tightly to him as you were wrapped around him lovingly. The heat of your bodies, the feeling of his heart beating and the rise and fall of his chest as he heavily breathed through the pleasure… Despite that soon he’d have to leave again these moments are what make it worth it.

"Te amo," his voice was a husky whisper as he held you.

For now, you got to enjoy the warm embrace of your spider.

===

💙💙💙💙

Thanks so much for reading, let me know if you enjoyed with any comments/reblogs, I appreciate them all!

-Wyv

#miguel spiderman #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #miguel x female!reader #miguel o'hara smut #miguel ohara #miguel o'hara x female!reader smut #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x female!reader #miguel ohara imagine #miguel o'hara imagine #fan fic #fan fics #fan fiction #fan fictions

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vibingandsimping · 6 months

Note

hi there~

Thank you so much for writing my request, I loved it! I don't want to be a bother, but would you mind perhaps writing how Astarion would feel or react to her in awe over the clothing he has made for her? Being that she's poor, she has never seen or touched such rich fabrics before. Perhaps his reaction to her trying them on and being so shy and awestruck by them and his thoughtfulness? I love the idea of an all powerful, evil astarion going all soft for that one specific person. Like the big bad wolf willing to ready to maul anyone before ehim but that one specific little bunny that's just too sweet he wants to protect it at all costs. And the little bunny who knows all too well just how dangerous that wolf is, but believes he will never hurt her and feels so safe with him. It just makes my dumb little heart melt.

If not it's totally okay! I appreciate you even taking the time to answer my first request!

For those reading my posts lately and sending in asks… it may be a few days before I get to them. During my hiatus I received a decent number of asks and am now finally getting around to them. :)

The comment of the wolf and rabbit reminds me of a story. Anyone remember that youtube animation titled “Dear Rabbit”?

The silks lined your skin like a glove. Each seam pressed perfectly and every lace finely crafted. The colors rich and potent with a slight shimmer. The neckline dipping down your chest to expose your neck in it’s entirety. He must’ve spent thousands on this dress alone. The thought made you curl into yourself. Thousands on a dress is absurd. Such money is unfathomable to you. You’re so used to scavenging scraps of copper and silver to get by. You’re not sure whether to be upset or flattered from his spoils. You flatten your hands along the sides of your form. The dress hugs you perfectly and annunciates the curves you do have as well as creating an illusion of more. You do have to give it to him- he has an eye for the humanoid form and fashion. His halls and servants only reflected a sense of elegancy. You stare at the mirror for a few moments more. Taking in the sight and resisting the urge to claw it off. Feeling that you’re almost unworthy of such finery. You closed your eyes with an audible sigh. Running a hand along your head.

When you reopened them you nearly jumped out of your skin. Screaming when you spotted the pale man standing before you. He only takes amusement in your terror and circles his arms around your waist. Astarion presses his face against the side of your head and plants a kiss on your ear. He apologizes softly, almost strained, before eyeing you through the mirror. His hands explore the expanse of your dress and you sit like still prey. His eyes nearly glowing in content with your obedience and how delicious you looked in the fabrics. “Mm, every coin well spent. My dear, you’ve never looked better.” You weren’t sure if that was an insult to your previous poverty or a compliment to how dolled up you were. Either way, you still blushed from the intensity of his stare and voice. His lips connect with your neck and tease the skin with his fangs. It was brief but enough to trickle the icy feeling into you. Shivering as he finally pulls away. “You should get used to this, darling. You will only be wearing the best from now on. Forget the rags you wore before.” He hums and combs his hair with his fingers. You were puzzled on why he didn’t turn you like his other spawn yet. Was it for amusement? Or perhaps he thought you too precious to corrupt in such a way?

Either way, you knew he expected perfection when you arrived at dinner. He had some announcement to make to his palace. The contents of which unknown. You couldn’t help but feel a sense of unease at that fact. In your time there he’d never hurt you. In fact, he’d gone out of his way to ensure anyone who threatened you was punished. You were almost like a trophy to him. One to polish and flaunt to those around. It was strange to have to adjust from your previous life. All you knew is that you were too far in the wolf’s jaws to escape now.

#my asks #anon asks #my writing #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #baldurs gate iii #baldurs gate 3 x reader #bg3 x reader #baldur’s gate 3 #baldur’s gate 3 x reader #baldur’s gate 3 astarion #baldurs gate astarion #ascended astarion x tav #ascended astarion x reader #ascended astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x reader

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frenchkisstheabyss · 9 months

Text

♡ 𝖇𝖊𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖊 𝖎'𝖒 𝖉𝖊𝖆𝖉 ♡

♡ Pairing: vampire!bang chan x chubby!fem!reader

♡ Summary: When playing with devils you must be careful not to become one yourself. Unless, of course, you want to...

♡ Genre: smut/angst w/ horror elements

♡ Word Count: 1.6k-ish

♡ Warnings: blood, biting, discussion of violence/death, unprotected sex (the man's literally dead though so, like...), reader death (only on a technicality. you're fine)

Limbs scattered through garbage-riddled alleys. Intestines strung from archways like streamers for some grand party. Bodies drained of blood. Husks of what they once were. Unrecognizable to even those closest to them.

What kind of monster could do such a thing? Despite the police department’s best efforts, the culprit that terrorizes the city, snatching victims in the darkest crevices of the night, remains a mystery to them. To everyone. Everyone, that is, but you.

You know for a fact that the shadow looming at the end of your bed, this creature masquerading as a man, is responsible for these atrocities and, with the exception of a few unfortunate souls, he carries little remorse about what he’s done.

Chan honors your request not to hear the gory details of what he does but it’s difficult to escape them. It’s all over the news and social media. Your coworkers won’t shut up about it. It’s enough to make you sick to your stomach. Enough to make you never want to lay eyes on him again.

But when he appears in your apartment tonight, the same as he has countless nights before, his eyes shimmering pools of black, he awakens something inside of you that makes your knowledge of what he’s done as hazy as a bad dream. You watch as he steps into the soft light cast through your window by the full moon.

Chan’s breathtakingly handsome, gifted with a body built for sin and bone structure to die for. It’s almost as if his maker crafted him for the express purpose of getting you to compromise your mortal soul. Chan laughs, cracking a devilish grin, “It’s a little too late for that isn’t it, my love?” You crawl to the middle of the bed, sitting with your legs tucked beneath you.

“Too late for what?” He comes face to face with you, the razor-sharp tips of his fangs glinting in the moonlight. “The whole ‘compromising your mortal soul’ thing.” Chan pinches one of your fluffy cheeks, his full lips pressing a kiss to your forehead. “You’re damned. The same as me.” A chill blows through you, the kind that whistles through long abandoned caves, at the thought that he might be right.

You shake it off, nervously running your fingers across the intricate lacing at the breast of your sheer black nightgown. “We are nothing alike” you snap, “And stop reading my mind!” Chan backs away from you, discarding what’s left of his clothes, and, ignoring your wish for your thoughts to remain untouched, listens in on the filth that lurks in the back of your mind when you see how hard you’ve gotten him.

That is why you wore something see-through, isn’t it? To tempt him with your lush breasts and the stiffening buds at their peaks. You know how ravenous it makes him to have free access to the softness of your stomach. To see your pillowy thighs grow even thicker when you sit the way you do now.

You intended to send all of the blood rushing through the veins that travel along his thick, lengthy cock. Craved the sight of it, without even the most fleeting concern for whose blood it actually was. You blink and he’s behind you on the bed, his nails carefully shredding your nightgown to pieces.

The fabric melts down your body as smooth as butter. Chan takes your breasts into his hands, caressing them as he kisses your neck. “Tell me you want me to leave and I will.” Your head falls back on his shoulder, arms reaching back, fingers threading through his hair.

The coldness of his body battles the warmth of yours, a dynamic that has you sweating and shivering all at once. “Just say it,” he whispers, his right hand kneading your gentle form as he works his way down to your thighs, effortlessly parting them.

“You want my help?” he asks, lightly squeezing your clit between his pointer and index fingers, “Repeat after me.”

“I…”

“I…” you whine, gripping his hair tighter.

“Want…”

“You…”

“You...”

Chan dips his hand further between your thighs, muscles flexing beneath his skin as his fingers curve into you. “I want you” he hums, fangs pricking at your neck just enough to leave a mark without drawing blood. You repeat after him, word for word, “I want you. I want you. I want you.” The “to leave” is silent. Nonexistent.

You’ve considered many times asking him to leave before things went too far but you never had the strength, or the sincere longing, to do so. Chan can do so much more than read your mind. He can read your body like one would their favorite book. He knows that if he rotates his fingers just…like…this, it’ll tug at the most sensitive parts of you, making your pussy weep.

Chan plants kisses along your jawline, trailing up to your ear. “I want you too. Not just now,” he confesses, “Forever.” It’s a simple word, “forever”, but the emphasis placed upon it speaks volumes of his feelings for you. “Me too,” you say, not even thinking, only feeling. “I can make it that way, you know. I could…” The implication breaks you free of whatever spell you’re under.

You twist out of his arms, pulling the blanket over your naked body more for comfort than anything else. “Chan, you can’t be serious.” There’s that glint in his eye again, only this time it’s all his doing, the idea of turning you exciting him more than his last kill. “Why can’t I be serious?” he asks, climbing on top of you, his arms caging you in, “Tell me you've never thought of it.”

You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t and, under the circumstances, it’s not even worth it to attempt to lie. At one point you harbored such a thirst for life but somewhere along the way, in a place that you can’t quite pinpoint, you lost it. Everything became dreary. Repetitive. Monotonous. Life lacked excitement. It lacked color. Nothing made you feel truly alive anymore.

Then came Chan. The spark that reignited the flame. You often wonder what it might be like to have the freedom that he does. The power. To have access to things far beyond the reach of humans. But what he does to those people you could never bring yourself to do. Chan slips the covers from between you, reuniting his body with yours. Bringing your legs around his waist, he brushes the tip of his cock between your folds.

You grip his shoulders, nails digging into his skin. You’re still so wet. Maybe wetter. “You’ll never have to” he promises, “ I’ll do it. All of it. Feed you. Care for you. I just, fuck, I want you more than anything.” Chan bucks his hips, sinking into you. You hiss at the stretch, your back arching as your walls swallow him deeper. It’s only been 24 hours since he last made love to you but it’s felt like a lifetime.

You wanted him….needed him…so badly. Each stroke is more intense than the last, satiating your thirst for more pressure each time he bottoms out. Your moans are as close to heaven as he’ll ever be. He kisses you passionately, capturing them with his tongue. This is the best you’ve felt all day. It’s the best you ever feel. Being in his arms, his lips pressed to yours, is indeed something you can never imagine losing.

“Will it hurt?”

Chan shakes his head, biting his lip as you clench tighter. “Never…mmm…hurt you.” “Then do it” you mewl, eyelids fluttering, defenses crumbling. The bed creaks as his thrusts quicken, the legs of the mahogany bedframe scratching at the floor. 200 years of lovers and no one’s even come close to feeling this good wrapped around his cock. You’re so vulnerable, so trusting, so fucking beautiful that he can’t waste another second not having secured you as his.

Baring his fangs, he sinks them into your neck. You gasp at the force of the impact but the bite itself merely tickles, undetectable when paired with the frenzy of butterflies in your stomach. Chan brings his wrist to his mouth, making a small incision with one of his fangs. Your lips part knowingly, suckling at the wound when he presents it to you. Blood coats your tongue, a crimson copper-laced treat running down your throat.

There’s something in it, something special, that strengthens the floral scent of your perfume. It’s overpowering. Dizzying. Everything’s louder. The cars zipping by on the streets. The sounds of grasshoppers and cicadas calling their mates in the neighboring park. Your vision sharpens, and corners of your room previously dominated by darkness are now bright as day.

And you feel. Oh, you feel everything. You’re in tune with every aspect of your nervous system. This level of awareness is mind-numbing but you don’t want it to stop. Your breath catches, your orgasm arriving with such ferocity that your nails slice into his skin. “That’s it” he coos, “You’re all mine now so come for me. Just for me.” He says it like you have an option.

Like there’s anything you can to do stop yourself from unraveling, the juices flowing from your core like a river. You scream louder than you ever have. The only discernible word is his name, said over and over until your body’s too spent to even say that. Chan kisses up and down your body, whispering to you in a language unknown to you before but somehow understood fluently now.

He’s praising you. Worshipping you. Swearing to honor your bond forever. To him, you’ve always been breathtakingly beautiful, gifted with a body built for sin and curves to die for. It’s almost as if your maker crafted you with the express purpose of tempting him to corrupt your mortal soul. What a sweet thing it was to destroy.

#bang chan x female reader #bang chan x y/n #bang chan x you #bang chan x reader #bang chan au #stray kids x you #stray kids smut #stray kids x thick reader #stray kids x chubby reader #stray kids x y/n #chubby reader #stray kids vampire au

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dearest-painter · 11 months

Text

I’ll die before I let you get harm! PT.2

Summary: Y/N has deeply missed their friends oh so much but their all busy with their own lives so they cannot say much. Soon Y/N meets Miles again but he seems terrified and scared which breaks their heart, they make sure that miles is safe from everyone…even if those people are obsessed with them.

TW/CW:Yandere behavior, unhealthy behavior, unhealthy relationship,abusive behavior,abusive relationship,Reader is Spider-Noir,Reader is hinted to be in a relationship with Miguel(bc im simping for him) but it’s never really said out loud,Reader talks to themselves,very out of character characters,this is a series,Reader knows about colors now,Reader doesn’t really like the spider society,people might be out of character,tell me if I need to add more

Currently you stole a watch for Miles’s as you two hid out in your universe. You lend him some clothes but they ended up being to big but he didn’t mind, as long as he was safe. “I’m so sorry this is happening to you kiddo…you don’t deserve it, your a good person and your one hell of a spider-man. The fact Miguel, a grown ass man, is coming after you a teenager who didn’t ask to be Spider-Man is fucking insane” you sighed as you ran a hand down your face, you knew Miguel can be extreme but not to this point..you’ve never seen it get this bad.

“Hey it’s not your fault Y/N, no need to apologize. It’s Miguel’s fault, he’s the one fucking scarring me” You chuckle a bit, Miles smiled hearing you chuckled. He loved hearing you chuckle as it made him very happy to know your happy as you were another parental figure to him. “Miles I want you to stay on guard at all time, we’re going back to HQ because there’s a machine to send you home” Miles nodded his head as you two went to HQ. You both were very stealthy as you walked.

“Y/N What are you doing with the anomaly!?” You turned around while putting Miles behind you, Miguel will have to fucking kill You to get Miles. “First of all, this ‘anomaly’ is Miles morales aka the toughest Spider-Man I know, two I’m sending him home. I’m not letting you harm him Miguel, his universe needs him” “HE WASNT SUPPOSED TO BE SPIDER-MAN! HE’S A MISTAKE!” “SO AM I! I WASNT SUPPOSED TO HE SPIDER-MAN/WOMEN! IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE MY BEST FRIEND BUT YOUR NOT CALLING ME A MISTAKE! SO SHUT THE FUCK UP!” Miles has never seen you this pissed off.

Miguel knew that you were right, originally you were never supposed to be the vigilante but yet you became it…he wishes you weren’t right or protecting Miles. “So why is it you hate him Miguel? Why?” You held Miles as you tried calming down. Miles was nervous as Miguel’s anger and rage was very visible but his fangs added more terror to him. “Y/N…your not involved so move befor-“ “No. I’m not moving, Miles is MY responsibility while he’s here and I’m responsible of making sure he stays alive. He’s going to save his dad”

All of a sudden a hammer hit Miguel’s head and you two ran, Miles was holding in a chuckle but you were laughing as Porker joined you two. “Nice hit!” “Aye you know me! Can’t let my friends be hurt, now let’s get you home Miles!” “Just like old times?” You and Porker nodded as you both remember when Miles got you all home safely…now it’s time to repay the favor. “Just like old times…NOW RUN FASTER! FUCKERS ON ALL FOURS!” “SHIT THATS TERRIFYING!” You took out a something that wasn’t of any use to you and threw it at Miguel which hit square in his face making you three chuckle.

Who knew running away from danger could be this much fun! It felt so amazing! You felt alive! You felt everything before leaving Miles! You felt at home! You were home or with people you can call home now!

#yandere #please don’t do this #obession #unhealthy #yandere platonic #gn reader #platonic yandere #x gn reader #yandere x gn reader #yandere x gender neutral reader #gender neutral y/n #gender neutral reader #yandere spider man across the spider verse #yandere spiderman #romantic yandere #I’ll die before I let you get harm series #part 2 of many

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swiftyangx12 · 2 months

Text

Variant Crossover

[AU] by @exhaslo

Arachnis’ pronouns = They/Them/Their

[(A/N)]: Arachnis is my ATSV OC who has spider abilities based on the Sydney Funnel Web. It means they have the fangs with the lethal venom.

Arachnis: *Icing their knuckles* …

Miguel: …

Villain!Miguel: *Locked up in a cell with a broken nose and bite marks* …

Arachnis: Miguel, why is your variant here and how did this happen? I was away for two weeks because of Protocol duties and this is what I returned to.

Miguel: We fought back in his dimension. He almost captured his Spider-Woman and stopped him since she could be a good asset to join our team.

Arachnis: *Sighs* Then you tried to take her, but he tagged along and saw me. Do I look like your Spider-Woman?

Villain!Miguel: You remind me of her.

Arachnis: I’m Arachnis. You almost killed my Miguel and had the audacity to lunge at me. Almost broke my hand from caving in your face.

Villain!Miguel: I thought you were my specimen. Someone I need to-

Arachnis: Do I look like your guinea pig, you psychopathic manwhore?

Miguel: *Pulls them behind* We’re sending you back. Wei.

Arachnis: Sorry, but he gives me the creeps. How is he your variant?

Miguel: Stone.

Arachnis: Oh, that explains everything.

[Earth-???]

Arachnis: Let me get this straight. You, his Spider-Woman, have a fat-ass crush on this lunatic?

Spider-Woman: I wouldn’t say I have a crush on him…

Arachnis: …You’re in love with him? [Reader], he’s just an obsessive geneticist whose only goal is to “improve” humanity, no matter the cost of anyone’s life. I don’t think he’ll love you the same way my Miguel does. And he can barely hit me hard during training because he doesn’t want to hurt me.

Spider-Woman: I know, but I thought if I can show him a better view in humanity-

Arachnis: [Reader], people don’t change easily. Especially ones like him. *Glaring at Villain!Miguel*

Villain!Miguel: I didn’t do anything.

Arachnis: *Hisses at him* You need to rethink your standards and safeguard your well-being. You’ll only get hurt at the end if you don’t prevent yourself from falling into his manipulation.

Spider-Woman: I…I get it. You’re worried about me, but I can handle myself.

Arachnis: Your Miguel almost killed us. I should be worried, as your variant. Maybe it’s best you join the team so we’ll give you the necessary training since you just started your heroic journey.

Spider-Woman: *Sighs* Maybe…Then Miguel would be angry if I miss anything when I’m gone.

Arachnis: [Reader], find another job and resign his ass. I did when shit happened back in my dimension. It wasn’t easy, and look where it led me. I’m an agent fighting for a good cause. Don’t you want to fight for what’s right?

Spider-Woman: I do. It’s just…

Arachnis: I know it’s challenging for everyone who start their own story of heroism, but we can help you. I can help you.

Spider-Woman: *Biting their bottom lip out* …I’ll join.

Arachnis: Okay, you’re in. Oh, another fact to inform you. You gotta strike fear into your Miguel because in reality, female spiders are much bigger and aggressive than their male counterparts. Some of them are cannibalistic to their mates.

Spider-Woman: *Disturbed by the fact* Why would you tell me that?

Arachnis: Because I want you to put yourself first than find somebody you can actually cherish. And I’m your variant who studied Arachnology.

[Back in Earth-928, Spider-Man 2099’s office/lair]

Arachnis: *Leaning next to their Miguel* Miguel, babe. I’m concerned about her. She’s in love with a psycho.

Miguel: I know. It’s…shocking unbelievable.

Arachnis: *Sighs* What’s her Canon Event?

Miguel: …S’not good.

Arachnis: Does she lose someone or she dies?

Miguel: …

Arachnis: You know the silence isn’t helping and making this suspenseful.

Miguel: She and my variant get together.

Arachnis: …I’m gonna cut his dick off. *Pulls out their Karambit*

Miguel: No! Amor! *Holds them up*

Arachnis: I warned her and sternly talked to her how she’ll get hurt at the end just by being with that scumbag.

Miguel: Thank shock I didn’t mentioned the pregnancy.

Arachnis: PREGNANCY?!! MIGUEL!!! Let me go! I’m not afraid to bite! He has 15 minutes to live!

Miguel: *Bites and injects his venom in them*

Arachnis: *Becomes paralyzed* Fuck…Why?

Miguel: You were about to kill him. I know the line of work you’re in back on Earth 2020-6-2 and I couldn’t let you.

Arachnis: Miguel…[Reader]…

Miguel: She’ll be fine. She informed me she’s deciding to resign her job and will join the Spider Society.

Arachnis: She did?

Miguel: After your talk with her.

Arachnis: *Sighs* I’m tired…I think…you used too much…

Miguel: I’ll take you home, amor.

Arachnis: Thanks Miguel…

🕷️[Reblogs helps creators and creates for more content]🕸️

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strafepanzer · 1 year

Text

fangs | g.jaegerjaquez

chapter one: shit | chapter two (tba) | chapter three (tba)

▸ ▸ ▸ warnings: dark content, 18+! a/b/o stuff (pheromones, fangs, alpha-omega, animalistic tendencies), blood (a LOT), biting, drugs, gangs, fighting, (more to be added as chapters progress)

▸ ▸ ▸ wordcount: 3k+

▸ ▸ ▸ a/n: this has been in the works for a while but i finally have a bit of energy to put into it, so that's fun! also ive taken parts of omegaverse lore and made it my own, so if things get confusing, feel free to ask questions! thanks for reading!! ♡

“Shit,” he hisses, tongue running over the split in his lower lip. His glare intensifies as he shoots it over his shoulder, landing on the little turd shaking in his boots, wooden baseball bat held tight in two white-knuckled fists.

“I didn’t even do that! Y-you bit your lip with those freakish fricken fangs!” The kid argues, blue eyes wide with terror, that distinct childish whine caught in his throat.

“Right, so you swinging that bat at me had no impact on the state of my face at all?” He turns his body towards the boy, cracks his neck as he rolls his shoulders. “Sounds like a crock a’ shit, squirt.”

“Uncle will be mad if you hit me!” He reasons, knees knocking together.

“Oh, but you can hit me?” Grimmjow raises his brows, wiping the blood with a knuckle as he stalks towards the kid.

“You’re the gang’s Mad Dog! You’re supposed to be too good for me to hit!” He frowns, stepping back as the predator steps forward.

Grimmjow grins then, his hulking canines pressing uncomfortably into his lower lip, the one on the left shining with blood. “Maybe I wanted a reason to discipline the young master.”

“Jaegerjaquez,” Tousen appears out of nowhere, like usual. “Boss has a job for you.” Is all he says before turning to the kid. “You know how your mother feels about you using that bat for violence, young master.”

The kid’s pouting, obviously happy to have been spared, but upset that he’s being scolded and losing his babysitter-slash-impromptu-martial-arts-instructor all in one fell swoop.

“Where’s he want me?” Grimmjow straightens, rubs the sweat from his hands down the thighs of his faded blue jeans, re-pops the collar of his barely buttoned Hawaiian shirt. Tousen regards him coldly through the lenses of ridiculously priced glasses, as usual, like Grimmjow is worse than the dirt beneath his stupid black leather loafers.

“The usual place.” Tousen turns his nose up at Grimmjow, and gestures back to the kid. “You need to stop sneaking out of the house when Starrk falls asleep; let’s go.” He orders, heading towards the winding forest path that leads back to the main house.

“We were training.” The kid argues back, pouting. “Everyone always talks about how strong the Mad Dog is, and I’m gonna be stronger.”

“Strength isn’t necessarily how hard you hit, or how many bones you break, Kaiden. Remember that.” Tousen sends Grimmjow one last look before the pair disappear behind the yellowing Japanese Maples, the young master waving frantically and promising to return.

This makes Grimmjow grin, smirk elongating as he heads back into his shack, imagining how Aizen’s prissy bitch of a left hand man has to listen to the kid praise him. What makes the young master’s idolisation of him that much sweeter is the fact that the little brat hasn’t presented yet; Tousen can’t blame the kid on being affected by Grimmjow’s Ridiculously Potent Dominant Alpha Pheromones, has to accept that he just likes the way he is. Thinks he’s fucking cool.

Betas, as a rule, tend to harbour a little bit of hatred towards alphas or omegas, especially in their line of work, but Tousen takes the goddamn cake.

With a spring in his step, Grimmjow packs a duffel. His little house— if you can call it that— is a bit of a mess, so finding what he needs is a pain in the ass, but he manages. Ten year old Motorola Razr (in ice blue), wallet, and switchblade are all on his bed, still there from being dumped out early this morning when he got home from a job. His first aid kit, pheromone patches, and inhibitors are all in the stall he calls a bathroom, and— he checks the package— he’s running low on patches. The last thing on his mental list— his knuckle dusters— are in the kitchen sink, still caked in dried blood, but he throws them in the bag anyway.

He leaves his leather jacket and just opts for his keys; the summer’s been long and hot, and he loves the way the air feels on his skin as he speeds the streets of Karakura.

Ichimaru’s Ikeman Fantasy is a front that even the blind can see, yet it’s been untouched by the law for years. Grimmjow parks his bike in its usual spot, holds the duffle by the handle and tosses it over his shoulder, before strolling past Yammy and the other bouncers, and in through the front door.

Smells like easy omega in here.

“Afternoon, Jaegerjaquez!” Nel hollers, tits bouncing as she waves from her spot behind the bar. They never used to get along, but the years of living and working in close proximity forced them into a friendship of sorts. Now they dye each other’s hair.

“Nel,” he nods, duffle landing on the bar with a thud. “Aizen here?”

“‘Course he is,” she rolls her eyes good-naturedly. “He’s always here.”

“Like you.” He grins. “You’re part of the furniture, you know?”

“Yeah, yeah,” she sighs, nodding back towards the kitchen. “Someone’s gotta keep Nnoitra in place. I do miss you being here, though.” Her nose scrunches up. “All the new boys are boring.” There’s a bit of bite behind her bark, and usually that’s what he looks for in a woman, but she’s never affected him. He can’t get hard for other alphas; all part and parcel of being a dominant himself. Omegas or nothing.

“Maybe if I was better at lip service.” He shrugs, tossing his feline stare over his shoulder to sus out the place.

“Or if you were worse at brawling,” she leans on the bar, those too big breasts pushing up and together in a way that makes them look like they might pop out of her shirt. “They’ve started calling you The Grim around here, you know? You come and go, then someone shows up dead.”

“That’s dramatic; I don’t kill people.” Always.

“Keep your secrets, Jaegerjaquez, I don’t want them.” Nel shakes her head, perks up a bit when someone else comes in.

It’s too early to open, and Grimmjow has no idea who this girl is. She’s cute, nervous-looking. Undoubtedly omega with her candy-apple scent.

“You’re getting girls in here now?” He asks when the candy apple omega is escorted through the lounge and into the back rooms.

“Yeah, Gin’s wanting to expand with the beauties.” She whispers, leaning close. “But you know Aizen: don't fix it if it ain’t broke.”

“Fox face wants to bring girls in here?” Grimmjow balks, a little too loud. “To work?” He questions, voice dropping.

“Yeah, for the back room stuff.” Nel looks undoubtedly uncomfortable. The main draw for the club is that it’s catered to women; less violent outbursts, less brawling, less police attention.

“Huh, never would’a picked it.” Grimmjow sighs, brows raising. “Matsumoto’s surely against it.”

“Yeah, so’s Ai—“

“You’re here,” Aizen’s voice isn’t loud, but it's commanding. There’s a quiet cruelty there that keeps people on their toes, a suppressed dominance that he’s master at concealing. “Come, Grimmjow, I have a task for you.” He’s across the lounge, standing in front of his office, the door right next to the one the candy apple omega disappeared behind.

“Sure thing,” he nods, suddenly professional. He gives Nel one last look before grabbing his duffel and slinking off towards his boss— The Boss.

Aizen’s office is the epitome of old European money; velvet chaise, dark filigree wallpaper, gold accents, cherry stained hardwood. Grimmjow feels like a stray dog attempting domestication each time he stalks into the room, can’t bear to sit lest he destroy or dirty something. The Boss doesn’t even offer him a seat anymore, just places a lowball of whiskey in his hand and starts on the task at hand.

“There’s a small motorcycle gang that’s started to sell on our turf,” he says, opening a beige folder and tossing its contents on his desk. “Need you to rough ‘em up a bit before they get too big for their boots.”

“Kids?” Grimmjow scowls, picking up the pile of photos and tossing them back to the desk as he looks at them. They’re in their late teens to early twenties, with their black leather jackets and little white baggies. “You’re sending me to deal with kids?”

Aizen sighs and sits down in his polished leather chair, taking a sip of his own whiskey. “You’re right.” He nods, leaning over the table and picking up one of the photos Grimmjow’s tossed down. “Normally, I’d send Yammy, or even Tousen— if I wanted to deal with it diplomatically— but this kid,” he holds up the picture of a blonde, his head tossed back in laughter, canine-like fangs protruding out of his mouth. “Is a dominant like you.”

He takes the photo from Aizen and looks it over, then goes through the ones he tossed and picks up a clearer one of his face. “He’s not even wearing patches,” Grimmjow shakes his head, glaring at the glossy photos. “Just swinging his dick around like he owns the place.”

“Exactly,” Aizen stands and gathers the photos, holds his hand out for the ones Grimmjow’s still scrutinising. “I’ll send the lot of them to your phone.”

“Boss, I can’t see shit on my phone,”

“I told you to buy a new one.”

“Why fix something if it ain’t broke? Besides, I got the little fucker’s face memorised, don’t sweat it.”

“They hang around by the train station at the end of the street most nights. Rough them up a bit, feel free to knock some teeth out.” Aizen smiles then, golden eyes shining as he shows his own fangs.

To the naked eye, he looks like a beta or omega with his average-sized canines, but Grimmjow knows better. Knows he’s had them filed down; that he does so on the regular.

Dangerous fucker he is.

After sticking around for a couple more drinks with Nel, he pockets a knuckleduster and leaves her with the rest of his shit. "I'll come get it when I'm done with the job." He drawls, tapping his scent blockers to test their saying power— excellent, considering he replaced them after Aizen dismissed him.

"Don't kill too many, Grim." She calls a little too loud, smiles a little too broadly. It draws attention from the other patrons, the few older women sitting at and around the bar suddenly interested in him.

"Don't lose my shit." He glares back, fang grinding on the still fresh wound from this morning when he tenses his jaw.

Undeterred, she waves him off with a smile, before undoubtedly weaving tales about his murderous escapades to the nosey hags asking too many questions. He doesn’t stick around long enough to confirm or deny his own suspicions.

The damp heat of early summer clings to Grimmjow like a second skin; seeing others unaffected— still dressing in light layers and boots, some with scarves and gloves— makes him feel a little claustrophobic, even outside in the streets. He knows it’s him who’s wrong, knows his medication has side effects and his second gender has drawbacks as well as perks, but still it’s enough to plaster that scowl to his face. At least it makes people avoid him, gives him a little bubble when it’s crowded, even in rush hour.

Hands shoved deep in his pockets, that glare is set straight ahead. He’s on a mission, and it’s something he’s not too happy about. Sure, he’s used to cleaning up Aizen’s messes, used to brawling, bleeding, biting, and bitching; but dealing with pups never ends well. These kids probably think they’re kings, think that their blonde ringleader is gonna make them rich or famous, or both.

Probably both.

Flashing fangs like that around here, though… that’s gonna get you killed.

Grimmjow’s nothing if not morally grey, however, so seeing the little posse down an alley on the way to his destination brings a rush of excitement. The sooner he can get this over with, the better.

“Oi,” he calls, entering the alley. “Heard you’re selling.”

“Who’s askin’?” One steps away from the wall— not the blonde— and tilts his chin up at Grimmjow. It takes all the willpower in the world not to match that snarl with one of his own, but he just shrugs and tries to act innocent, keeps his shoulders hunched so he seems smaller than his six-four frame.

“Just some guy,” he drawls, keeping his fangs concealed. “Why, you discriminate?”

The kid snarls at him again, infuriated, “Discrimin—”

“Cool it, Tetsu,” the blonde finally steps forward, and his pheromones are no joke. It’s been a hot minute since Grimmjow’s come across a dominant who doesn’t conceal what he is, and he has to physically stop the warning growl that wants to vibrate up his throat. “This old man just needs a hit, don’tcha grandpa?” He grins, condescending lilt to his brow.

“Nah, you got me all wrong, kiddo,” Grimmjow stands tall— taller than the blonde by at least five inches— and cracks his knuckles, apathetic grin turned evil. “I just need to relay a message to you little fuckers about who’s turf you’re selling on.”

The blonde postures, baring his fangs as his pupils blow wide, “Bring it on, old man!” He yells, pheromones turning the alley sour and crippling his friends.

Grimmjow says nothing, just mirrors the young alpha, and roars.

His pals throw up, one passes out, and the blonde’s pupils revert before his fight or flight kicks in, and he launches himself at Grimmjow. He knows the fight would be over if he just removed his scent patches, but where’s the fun in that? What kind of Grim Reaper would he be if he let it end at that?

Blondie lands a hit to Grimmjow’s jaw, and he feels it crack his bone. Adrenaline and anger mask the pain, and in an instant he’s above the kid, landing blow after blow after blow to his face with his bare knuckles, colouring his face crimson in a matter of seconds.

“Old man?” Grimmjow grunts sarcastically, the adrenaline subsiding with each moment of non-resistance. “This old man better not see you on this side of the tracks with intent to sell again, or I’ll rip those useless canines straight outta your face, got it?” He finishes, holding the blonde up by the front of his bloodied leather jacket and glaring down at his swollen, weepy face. Blondie can only groan in pain before going limp in Grimmjow’s grasp.

He drops him to the cement and glances up at the rest of the gang. With both alphas done with their brawl, the pheromones in the air have thinned, and the rest of the kids are in the process of regaining their composure.

“I fucking mean it,” Grimmjow continues with his warning. “I know you think you’re fucking invinci—”

He’s frozen by a sharp stinging sensation in the side of his neck, and when he swipes at it, something small, cylindrical, and plastic hits the ground next to his knee and rolls away from him.

A syringe.

They’ve drugged him.

“Run!” Someone screams from behind him, lurching with speed and strength Grimmjow knows wouldn’t be possible from anyone other than another dominant alpha. He grabs for Blondie, tosses his limp body over his shoulder and takes off down the alley as the rest of the gang scatters.

Grimmjow stumbles as he attempts to give chase, his vision swimming and heart pounding. He stops and crouches there in the alley behind a dumpster, closing his eyes and trying his goddamn hardest to regulate himself, to pinpoint the problem. His limbs are fine, and there’s no numbness, so that’s a plus, but he’s dizzy as all hell, and—

Slap.

He opens his eyes to see one of his scent blockers— a shriveled-looking skin-toned bandaid— lying there on the cement like it’d been used more than a few times. But he knows that’s not the case, knows that was a brand new fucking blocker and that it should’ve lasted him until at least tomorrow morning even if he wanted to sleep with it on.

He reaches for the one at the other side of his neck, and that one, too, slides off, looking a little more than worse for wear.

His pheromones have sweat the patches off.

This hasn’t happened to Grimmjow since he was going through goddamn puberty and the doctors couldn’t find the right dosage of inhibitors for him. He’s early thirties now, has been on the same goddamn pills since, and has never missed a dose. If there’s one thing Grimmjow cannot fucking stand, it’s an alpha who can’t control his fucking ruts.

And now he’s one of them.

Those shifty little fuckers have thrown him into rut.

“Motherfuckers!” He roars, knuckles meeting cement out of pure frustration, the pain that’s supposed to come with maiming oneself simply not present.

Grimmjow gets up and braces himself against the wall, breathing heavily and glancing between the mouth of the alley and the direction in which those little shits ran off. It’d be absolutely insane for them to want to stick around and try jump him, especially considering Blondie wasn’t using blockers, so there’s no doubt the end of the alley isn’t a completely dead end. Heading towards the street would only end in mayhem, so he stumbles deeper into the alley, using the brick wall for support when the cramping takes over and he needs a moment to breathe.

Fuck, he’s forgotten how this felt; forgotten just how base he goes when his hormones are running rampant, forgot how primal he is. He’s hungry. For food, for sex, for a good fucking fight.

His cock aches.

Still, he fights it. He’s not completely gone yet, but he can feel it pulling at him, irritating him, can feel it tickling his brain like a loose thread; one tug of it, and he’ll be feral. He’s exhausted, fighting the urge to pull the string, finds himself panting as he clutches at the spray paint covered brick with a bloodied hand, sweat dripping into his eyes, plastering powder blue hair to his forehead.

He briefly wonders if Aizen knew that they had this little ace up their sleeve, before deciding— with a baleful chuckle he didn’t know he still had in him— that he doesn’t even wanna know.

The last thing he sees before the world goes black is his own reflection in a shiny metal baseball bat

#grimmjow x reader #tw omegaverse #tw blood #tw drugs #leese writes

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oatmilk-vampire · 3 months

Text

Vampire Eddie (Steddie)

mdni 18+ part 1(original) @breealtair you made me want to write this and I couldn't focus on anything else until I did. So this part 2(technically a prequel) is for everyone but mostly you.

When Eddie Munson came back from the dead, it freaked Steve out.

Sure, it wasn’t the first time someone in Hawkins had seemed to come back from the dead, but it was certainly the first time they'd shown up on Steve's doorstep covered in mud and blood.

Steve was more than freaked out. He was terrified.

He didn't think to answer with his nailbat drawn, he hadn't needed to in quite some time. Sue him for screaming at the top of his lungs and falling flat on his ass and scrambling backwards the exact same way he'd yelled at people in horror movies for.

Only, Eddie didn't come after him like some deranged killer or bloodthirsty monster. He just stood there, equally shell-shocked that he'd been given that kind of reaction.

When Steve realized Eddie wasn't killing him right then and there his mouth clamped shut and he let out an awkward cough.

"Um, hi?"

"Harrington," Eddie greets, still standing at the threshold.

"What---er--- brings you here?" Steve still wants to look around for a makeshift weapon but he isn't ready to take his eyes off of the dark figure looming in his doorway.

"I just woke up. What the hell happened? Did we defeat Vecna?" Eddie had awoken, seemingly buried alive and so hungry and thirsty. What happened next is something he's not quite sure actually happened, but he'll always remember the sound a deer makes when it's dying now.

"Um... We might have? That depends. How are you feeling?"

Eddie blinks. "Fine, I guess? I was starving but now I'm really nauseated."

"Is that, um, what did you eat?" What the hell is all over your face? was left unsaid.

Eddie grimaces and Steve catches sight of them. Sharp and wholly unnatural. The fangs looked nothing like those in Fright Night, which Steve had watched last year when it came out, but it still terrified him.

"Promise not to freak out?" Eddie questions but Steve already shakes his head.

"Kinda too late for that."

Eddie sighs.

"I ate a deer. Or, drank a deer, technically. I don't know the logistics. I think I'm a vampire. One moment I'm surrounded by that colony of demobats and next thing I'm alone in the dirt, starving, and now I'm here."

"Okay, okay. Fuck." Steve mumbled to himself, finally looking away from Eddie's eyes. His eyes still remain the same, nothing monstrous or undead about them. Steve suddenly remembers something, eyes shooting up to meet Eddie's once more.

"You can't come in unless you're invited, right?"

Eddie actually has the audacity to laugh at him. Laugh!

"Um, actually I think I can. I was just trying to be respective and not send you into cardiac arrest before your time."

"Oh."

So Steve was only really safe because Eddie chose not to come in and murder him. Okay. It should make him feel better but it does very little to uncoil the knot in his stomach.

"Yeah. So, can I come in?"

Flash forward two weeks, by now all of their friends were aware Eddie was in fact not dead and seemingly not controlled by Vecna. It's just him.

Of course, only Steve knew Eddie's, erm, condition and how he could eat human food but it didn't stanch his hunger.

Steve and Eddie decidedly got closer in those two week, mostly because they shared a secret no one else knew. No one else could know, they reasoned.

Eddie moved back in with Uncle Wayne, but even he didn't know the nature of Eddie's return. Despite this, Eddie was practically over at Steve's every free chance he had anyway.

It's one of their hangouts that Eddie seems a little different, something Steve has realized indicates he's getting hungry.

"Just go eat, man. I don't mind. I'll wait to start the movie. Just don't, like, kill the neighbor's dog or anything."

Eddie scrubs a hand over his face.

"As much as I want to eat, Steve, I feel nauseated just thinking about it."

"But, you have to." Steve's brows furrow. "You can't not eat."

"I know, but the animal blood is just... I don't know if they have weird diseases or something but it just makes me sick."

"Oh." Steve hesitates, considering what he's about to say and offer. "So, it's not drinking blood that grosses you out. It's drinking animal blood."

"Yeah..." Eddie questions, wondering where Steve is going with this.

"So, have you considered drinking human blood?"

Eddie blinks at him.

"Steve, I'm not gonna just go drink from some random person. And I don't exactly feel like trying to rob a blood bank. I've had an angry Hawkins mob come after me once already and I don't exactly want it again. They'll think I want it for some satanic ritual."

"Okay, so just drink from me." Steve shrugs as if he merely suggested Eddie borrow a shirt from him. "I don't have any weird diseases."

Eddie scoffs, "That's debatable." because he couldn't miss a moment to take a dig at the pretty boy, he hoped it would make Steve retract his offer or forget about it all together.

It didn't.

"Oh wow, Munson. Slut-shaming, really?" He waves his arm in front of Eddie's face and the vampire stares at it as if someone just offered him a T-bone steak when all he's ever had were microwaved Salisbury ones from banquet. Because he had. And this is practically what Steve's blood smelled like.

"Steve, get away from me. Seriously, I'm not gonna drink from you."

Steve's face gets a pinched expression.

"Seriously? What's wrong with my blood?" He doesn't lower his arm. "You're hungry and animals make you sick. Drink."

"Steve, I don't know if I'll be able to stop. I killed that deer, and yeah maybe it's because I was starving or dehydrated or whatever, but what if your blood is like, really really good? I don't want to hurt or kill you." Sure, he's only killed the one deer. He was able to stop himself with each subsequent animal, as long as they were big. The smaller ones were sucked dry.

"And, what, I just let you fast until you get hungry enough that you might hurt someone else? Might hurt Dustin? Come on, Munson."

Steve had a point.

Eddie eyes Steve's arm, hears the blood thrumming just beneath his skin. He licks his lips.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Should you maybe, I don't know. Would it make you uncomfortable if I had you, um, straddle my lap? Just so you could have more control! Maybe you could arm yourself with a knife or something just in case I don't let you go."

Steve takes his arm away and Eddie thinks he's blown it.

"Fine, I'll straddle your lap but I'm not holding a knife on you--Jesus, Eddie!" He exclaims as he's swiftly manhandled into Eddie's lap, knees on either side of Eddie's hips.

"How are you supposed to drink from my arm now? Isn't this an awkward angle?" Steve wonders out loud, already preparing to offer up his neck instead.

"Oh, shit, You're right. Maybe--"

Steve tilts his head to the side and the words die on Eddie's tongue.

Steve mentally steels himself for a pain reminiscent of what the Russians inflicted on him and Robin, or of the sharp bite of the demobats themselves.

Eddie takes a deep breath in, out. "Are you sure?"

Steve rolls his eyes. "Yes, Eddie, I'm--" he's cut off with his own gasp as he feels Eddie's lips on his neck, and then--

What happens next is not Steve's fault.

He's barely even aware that his hands find purchase on Eddie's sides, or that his hips start moving on their own accord. Seeking friction as his body wakes up to new sensations.

Eddie doesn't drink much, even if Steve was the best thing he's ever tasted. He has control over himself, so he only drinks until the actual hunger fades away leaving behind only his cravings.

He pops off of his neck, licking across the twin puncture wounds before guiding Steve backward to make sure he's okay.

Steve's eyes are half-mast, lips apart.

Eddie worries for a moment. Steve's out of it appearance in combination with the mewling noises he was making and rutting he was doing either meant one, Eddie did some serious damage; or two, Steve was fucked out.

When Eddie looked down and saw the visible wet spot right over where Steve's boner was beginning to fade, he had his answer.

His eyes flit back to Steve's suddenly feeling like he shouldn't be seeing Steve in such a vulnerable state.

"You okay, Stevie?" The nickname falls right off of his tongue. "I think you, hmm. I think you came in your pants, big boy."

That seems to snap Steve out of it. His eyes focus on Eddie's before falling to his lap with a gasp.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry!"

Eddie stops him from scrambling off of his lap. "Hey, hold on! I don't know how much blood I took, I don't exactly trust you on your feet right now."

"Well I can't just stay on your lap like this!"

Eddie doesn't mind it one bit. Sure he was worried with that initial gasp Steve let out, but now that he knows it was a good kind of breathlessness, we'll it's all okay. He voices just that.

"I, I hope I didn't make it weird. God, I'm so stupid. Who gets hard when their friend is--"

"Sucking them?" Eddie supplies with a giggle and Steve shoves his shoulder.

"This isn't funny!"

"Okay, embarrassment aside. Do you feel okay? Do you have any regrets about letting me drink your blood?"

"No. Other than coming in my pants? I'm okay. It didn't even hurt that bad." It hurt good.

Steve pretends not to notice the boner straining against Eddie's own jeans and how much he wanted to help Eddie out with that.

As weird as it was, that was the best orgasm Steve's ever had. And he'd do anything to get it again. Plus if his friend could reman happy and fed, well, who was he to complain?

#monster fucker steve am i right?#part 2 to that vampire ficlet i wrote #steve harrington #steddie #steddie ficlet #eddie munson #vampire eddie munson

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hydrangeyes · 6 months

Text

Tobirama x Seme Male reader

So if you don't know, Yes this already existed, my old account was deleted (accident but I can tell I won't be getting it back), and am reposting my old x male reader works!

I don't know if I saved all of them but here is one that was saved to my AO3 account.

Edit: So shuffling through my docs It's been brought to my attention that wattpad (who I use as backup) Cut a lot of my fics in half??? anyway I'll be trying to fix that also

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Requested by bunglol

This is def Au piece where those who were revived, stayed. Idk that whole story arc just flew passed me lmao. This ended up longer than expected lol, uhhh oops?

Edited: *kicks door open* SUP I HAVE NO EXCUSE ONCE AGAIN I BECAME ADDICTED TO NU:CARNIVAL (like h scenes aside I really do like the combat aspect and am curious on where the story is going)

ANYWAY

IT'S SMUT SORTS, MAINLY FOREPLAY

If I remember right there is fingering and probably eating him out

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As to be expected his mission went well. A few hiccups with a couple of rogues but nothing he couldn't handle. Tobirama jumps rooftop to rooftop away from the hokage's tower, now free to go home after submitting his report.

The only thing nagging him was the fact he hadn't received a welcome back tackle from his....his... If anyone were to see him they'd see a soft blush on his cheek. Thoughts of his loud and energetic pup eased the lasting tension in his muscles and warmed up.

N/N inuzuka, A roguishly handsome man who front he moment they meet, made it a habit to take his entire attention. Knowingly or not. At first it was annoying how the cheery male would constantly try to drag him into mundane conversations and bring him furs from animals he hunted.

Embarrassing really, as Tobirama caught on quickly to what he was doing. And felt he was far too old to be courted by someone so young. N/n being in his early 30's but still, Tobirama felt dying and now back again was enough to give him the years of two old (So what if he was forever 34).

Anyway- N/n started this whole thing when he was just 24! Tobirama let out a bemused sigh as he slowed getting to his secluded home.

And yet, N/n got what he wanted. Tobirama fully and happily wrapped around his fingers. And given that outside of solo missions they weren't together , It felt weird to not have N/n bombard his space now that he was back.

Landing on the porch, Tobirama listened as he unlocked the front door (My how the future has advanced was a thought that kept passing his mind).

'He must have taken up a mission while I was out. Odd how he hasn't mentioned that in his last letter.' Stepping in and closing the door behind him Tobirama slips out his sandals just in time to be suddenly yanked further in.

N/n lets out a gruff whine pulling Tobirama close to sniff and run his hands over his form. Looking for any injuries or aches, ignoring Tobirama's sputtering and seeing there was no harm, he lifts the man up. Effortlessly placing him over his shoulders to carry, running a hand up and down the back of his thigh.

"I know I have been gone for some days, but really n/n! Put me down, what is going on with you!" The silver-haired man yelps lightly smacking n/n's back.

Smack

"Ahh! Ngh n-n/n?~" Tobirama moans out in wonder, a N/n gives him a firm slap on his ass, gripping and massaging the cheek afterward. The wolf huffs and tosses him onto the bed, tobirama blinks as he's being tossed onto the bed.

He watches as N/n eyes him from above, face flushed and fangs bared. N/n's eyes were hooded and dark with hunger, loose pants tented enough that there was no point hiding it.

"You were gone for too long tobi~" N/n purrs out finally, his voice was raspy and a growl trailed just after the words, sending shivers down tobirama's spine.

Oh. He could already imagine he will be out of commission for the rest of the week. His legs already trembling and spreading to allow N/n in.

N/n hums softly pressing tobirama down onto his back. "Of course, if you're sore or tired from your mission-"

"Fuck me."

And with that, the last of N/n's restraint snapped. Claws greedily tore and tossed off the clothes on tobirama, leaning down to eagerly lock and bite at the man's neck and chest.

"N/n! Ah- mm those were-" Rama (fuck it typing this instead of his full name) starts dispite his hands running through N/ns' hair to tug him closer.

"I don't care. We'll buy new ones." N/n growls tilting his head to get a look at the marks he left on the pale neck, before continuing on down.

Semi distracted with trying to mark every spot his mouth could reach, N/n uses his left hand to nudge rama's left leg up and over his shoulder; his right spreading the other.

Rama, having been biting his lips to cover up and muffle his raspy moans, hisses in embarrassment at being so thoroughly exposed. His own hands trying to come down to cover his twitching and flush cock. One glare from N/n stopped him in his tracks.

"N-N/n, please." He keens impatient and is already on edge. And well, seeing his bites litter his mates' chest and stomach, N/n decides to move on (he'll come back to the marking during the second round anyway).

Chuckling N/n gives his mate what he wants being a bit sadistic in taking his time in grabbing lube. Slicking up his fingers and Rama's greedy hole, he wastes no time in pressing and then thrusting two fingers into it.

Focusing on Rama's whimpers and desperate moans, N/n curled his fingers to brush and hit Rama's prostate. Cock twitching in his pants feeling the greedy hole tighten and suck his fingers in. Not able to help himself, N/n scouts up to flick his tongue against the rim, pumping his fingers faster and deeper.

"N-N/N!!!" Rama shouts arching his back and throwing his left leg over n/n's shoulder to try and press him closer. N/n's fingers and tongue overwhelmed him to the point of trembling and rolling his eyes to the back of his head.

Rama's shudders as he feels the large amount of precum he was leaking join the mess N/n was making of his hole. "P-please~" Rama sobs out, reaching to tug his hair for his attention. With a groan, N/n pulls out and back licking his lips eyes hooded.

"Sorry~ You're hole is just so cute and tasty-" cutting him off Rama yanked him up into a messy deep kiss, a trembling hand sliding down to grasp and pump N/n's thick cock.

Pulling back a little Rama stares darkly into N/n's eyes, he pants out. "If you don't fuck me right now pup I will through you down and fuck myself on your knot myself."

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Edit Nov.8.2023: Writing smut is so funny to me tbh

#male reader #top male reader #x male reader #Tobirama x male reader

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jakes3resin · 1 month

Note

what would buck and bucky be like during bucky’s heat? like specific to them and their personalities

Okay so if there are any minors here I'm gonna just preemptively put everything under read more. If you click read more, that's on you don't come for me. I'm not responsible for your actions.

Okay, its been a hot minute since I wrote anything remotely smutty, so forgive me if this is a bit meh.

Bucky is, of course, very clingy. He makes a nest of just Buck's scent. He gets incredibly anxious and upset if he can't have Buck's scent on him. If Buck needs to leave him for even a moment, Bucky freaks out, something in his brain screaming that he's been abandoned, and more than once Gale has come back from getting them food to Bucky sitting in the middle of his nest sobbing his heart out.

Now Buck plans every moment of Bucky's heat to ensure that doesn't happen ever. He'll do anything to keep from hearing that gut wrenching sob ever again.

During heat, Bucky is insatiable, wants Gale to fuck him every which way. Isn't satisfied unless Gale is knotting him, and even then, he usually still wants more. He has in the pas pushed Gale down and ridden him like a toy simply because Gale wasn't fucking him the way he wanted. Gale had simply stared up at him in wonder that this beautiful man had chosen him, and every heat, Gale shows John how grateful he is, thoroughly.

Bucky's a demon during his heats, his energy directed solely on Gale. Most Omegas go through lulls during their heats, moments where the fever and the need drop just enough to give their partners a break, but Bucky's aren't like that. With Gale, he never wants to stop. He's needy and spoiled because Gale bends to all of his whims. The days of his heat are spent naked and intertwined with his Alpha without rest.

Each heat, he begs Gale to bite him and mate him. Forget the fact that there's a war going, he just wants that connection with Gale, wants to offer his heart and be offered one in exchange. This is the one thing Gale denies him. Gale will fuck him whenever he wants, do whatever he wants, but he won't do that. Gale wants to, but selfishly he also wants to keep John at his side. He'd go crazy if he had to send him back to the States without him if the Air Force found out they mated. He knows John wouldn't survive separating from his mate and his pack, so he denies John this one thing with a promise to mate him one day. Fucks him just a bit harder, kisses him a bit sweeter to make up for it.

Once they're finally mated, Bucky begs for a pup, begs Gale to fuck him until there's no doubt he's pregnant. Until his stomach swells and his scent changes. It drives Gale crazy every time, and this time he won't deny his mate.

Anyways, here's a quick little blurb that I wrote after getting inspired by this ask (this is really so I can stretch my writing muscles and hopefully get back in gear with writing smut):

Gale is sweet as he kisses Bucky, strokes a hand up his spine as Bucky squirms against him. Gale’s knot is buried deep in him, but he’s still not satisfied. His heat still prickles at his skin, an itch that he just can't scratch, and he wants more, wants everything. Bucky breaks the kiss with a gasp to stare up at Gale, at his Alpha, who stares back with dark eyes. That’s what Bucky loves most about his heats. He loves watching Gale’s mask chip and shatter until his façade of self-control and stoic calm fades away. Loves how much Gale will do for him.

“Buck,” Bucky pants as Gale’s hands move down to grip his hips. Bucky shifts his hips just to feel Gale’s grip tighten. Fingertips dig into his skin, and John relishes the bruises they’ll leave. “My Buck.”

“Yours,” Gale trails kisses down Bucky’s neck, and he can’t hold back the whine the builds up in his throat when Gale scratches a fang over Bucky’s mating gland. An electric shock runs through his body. "Always yours."

“Please!” Bucky begs. Fuck the consequences. If Gale bit him right then and there, Bucky would be the world’s happiest Omega. He’d scream the news until no one had any doubt exactly who’s Omega he was.

Gale pauses, and euphoria swells in Bucky’s core. Maybe this time he’ll do it. Bucky tilts his head back, inviting the Alpha in. Gale drops his head down, and Bucky grins, triumphant and feral. Finally!

Except Gale’s pulling away, and Bucky’s euphoria melts into sorrow. Tears well up in his eyes. Its his fault! Gale would mark him if he was a better Omega, if he wasn’t so tall or so loud. If he was just better, Gale would want him.

“Hey now,” Gale tilts Bucky’s head to force him to meet his eyes. “You’re perfect, John. I’d do anything to bite you right now, but I can’t send you away. I can’t John.”

Gale presses an apologetic kiss against his neck as Bucky sniffles. The grief is still there. But so is the heat. He still desperately wants Gale. The conflicting emotions well up in his chest.

“One day, darlin,” Gale promises with another kiss to his neck. “One day.”

Bucky nods and lets Gale pull him into a kiss, nipping at his lips when Gale tries to pull away. His heat once again prickles at him, even stronger now that he’s been denied what he wants.

“Alright, Buck,” Bucky says when Gale stares down at him waiting for more of an answer. “One day.”

“Good boy, my beautiful Omega. The only one for me.” Gale praises. Bucky feels a blush bleeding onto his cheeks. Gale's praises always do that to him, but he shakes his head this time. He doesn’t want praises or sweet nothings, not when Gale’s denied him. No, he wants more. Gale watches him, blue eyes dark and expecting.

Bucky shifts, gasping when Gale’s knot slips out of him. Cum drips down his thighs, but the sensation gives him an idea, a way to settle the heat and show Gale what a good Omega he can be. He grins pushing at Gale’s shoulder urging him to move, to lay back against the pillows. Gale moves where Bucky wants him letting him run the show. Switching their positions, Bucky settles down in Gale’s lap, rutting slightly against Gale’s dick.

Gale’s hands shift down to Bucky’s thighs. His nails scratch at the sensitive skin, and Bucky shivers, losing himself in the sensation. Bucky reaches down and lines up Gale’s dick.

“Gonna fill me up Buck?” Bucky tilts his head, curls flopping into his eyes. Gale stares up at him, pupils eating up the blue. “Gonna knot me and show everyone exactly who I belong to?”

Bucky slides down onto Gale's cock, gasping at the sensation. Every inch of Gale feels perfect. He reaches out blindly for Gale’s hand. He pulls it to settle onto his stomach as he twists his hips.

“C’mon Buck,” Bucky cajoles, breathes coming faster now. He lifts up on Gale’s cock before dropping back down. Gale groans underneath him. “Show me.”

Bucky moans as he rode Gale. Gale thrust up sending sparks through Bucky.

“Show me who I belong to,” Bucky dips down to kiss Gale. “Show me who my Alpha is.”

Posted on AO3 here

#asks #my writing #a/b/o fic #buck x bucky #clegan #buckbucky #seriously this is just a test drabble to work on my writing #mota #masters of the air

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levi-venn · 3 months

Text

The First Toothpick

Chapter 1: The Kid

Gen Fic - Mentor/Protege

Characters: Cad Bane, Jango Fett, Crosshair (the kid).

Summary: Cad Bane teaches Crosshair how to be a sniper. The kid picks up some other habits as a result.

Chapters: Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 | Ch 5 | Ch 6 | Ch7 | Ch8 (Coming soon)

Available on AO3 here

Cad Bane will do any job...for a price.

But, there was a time when he’d do anything for Jango Fett for free.

Those days are long gone.

The last time Cad saw Jango was on Nar Shaddaa; some seedy dive cantina where blaster bolts and blood flowed as freely as the cheap liquor.

It was over their second pitcher of shitty beer that Jango told Cad he was leaving bounty hunting, the greater galaxy, leaving everything behind.

He said something about a classified government assignment with a big payout.

All Cad heard was that Jango was leaving him behind.

“Kraytspit, boss,” Cad snarled, shoving an index into that armored chest. “You taught me ‘Fuck the Establishment’ and now what, you’re joinin' some government program? Just like that? Fuck you." And then Cad said words that Jango taught him, "And fuck The Man."

The argument got heated. Glass shattered. Fists brandished. Blasters were never drawn, but a spattering of Cad and Jango’s blood was added to the cantina’s décor.

That was years ago, but it wasn’t ancient history.

Not to Cad.

Now Jango’s got the balls to send me a message after all this time? Using words like “personal favor” and “old friend"?

Cad should’ve told him to swallow a cactus.

Instead he set a course for Kamino.

You’re gettin’ soft, nerfpoke, he chided himself. Then again, never did have a clear head where Jango was concerned, did ya?

The Justifier’s ramp clanged against the disc platform outside the Kaminoan Facility and the knot in Cad’s stomach tightened. He wasn't ready to see Jango again, no matter how quickly he punched those coordinates in. Yet, there he was, a dark silhouette at the end of the bridge.

Waiting for him.

The storm roared its unwelcoming song as he approached his former mentor. With every step, raging winds threatened to toss him into the inky, frothing ocean below like an angry gambler swiping a losing hand off a sabacc table. He clicked his heels, activating the magnetic sensors on his boots and he pale-knuckled the wide brim of his hat and walked across the bridge.

His swagger never wavered.

It never does.

Cad gritted his fangs as the barrage of rain needled his skin anywhere his duster and hat couldn’t protect. Jango, meanwhile, was bone dry, leaning against the wall under the lip of the facility's domed roof, arms folded across his armored chest. His helmet obscured his face, but Cad could feel the sly smile behind that reflective T-visor. He always did give Cad shit for not handling the cold too well.

In fact, Cad didn’t know what a “season” was when he left - escaped - the temperate climate of Duro. Didn’t take him long to figure out he kriffin’ hated “monsoon season” and “winter” the most.

“Long time,” Cad said, refusing to stammer as the icy wind clung to his bones.

“Didn’t have to be. You know that,” Jango said, the soft, stern tone apparent through the vocoder. “I told you then I wanted you to join me here.”

“And I told you where to stick it. Whole point of being a freelancer is the ‘free’ part, Fett. What kind of life are you living here?”

“I didn’t ask you here to lecture me on what freedom is, Cad. You’re here for a job.”

“What’s the catch?” Cad asked.

“No catch. You’re the best and that’s what I need.”

Cad smirked. “Flattery don’t work so well on me.”

“No? That’s funny, used to be the only way I could get you to do anything.” Jango removed his helmet, and that disarming grin unraveled the knot in Cad’s gut far too quickly. “Times have changed, I guess.”

“A lot’s changed,” Cad said, stubbornly.

That kriffin’ charismatic smile hasn't changed, has it? It could still ask Cad to do anything. If Jango jumped into a Sarlaac Pit, Cad would do a swan dive right after him.

But those days are over…weren’t they?

Jango punched the control panel beside him and the door opened to a brightly lit corridor. Cad refused to hurry as he walked into the facility, shaking off the rain from his hat and duster with an annoyed scoff.

“Nice digs,” he said, popping a toothpick in his mouth. “Blinding white is really your color.”

“Hey, thanks,” Jango said, not taking the bait. “I keep telling the Kaminoans to add a few potted plants, maybe a Max Reebo poster or two, but they never listen.”

Despite Cad’s desire to keep his head down as the intense lights assaulted his retinas, he still stole glances at his former mentor as they walked.

Mentor…

...Former starsdamn hero…

...Jango got old.

Cad hated the way humans aged, always wearing their mortality on their sleeves. Wrinkled skin, graying hair, even their voices waned and cracked like a mud puddle drying in the summer sun. Jango only had a few laugh lines, crow's feet, a little silver in his hair, but to Cad it was broadcasted that Jango was getting old.

...and so was he.

Still, none of these aged additions bothered him nearly as much as the change in Jango’s eyes.

They glittered with warmth. With happiness. Comfort.

“You look tired,” Cad mumbled the lie.

Fuck him for being happy without Cad.

“You worried about me, Bane?” Jango teased.

“Just saying, if you’re here to beg me to rescue you, we’re going the wrong way.” He jerked his long thumb behind him. “Ship’s that way.”

“Believe it or not, I’m good here.”

“Sure,” Cad sneered. “You always did talk about retiring in a sterile medical facility surrounded by violent storms.”

“I have a son, Cad,” Jango said, in an infuriatingly light tone.

Cad froze. The toothpick broke in two between his fanged teeth. He spat it out onto the pristine floor. “The fuck are you talking about?”

“The Kaminoans here contracted me for a classified assignment. I told them I wouldn’t do it for less than a krayt-sized hoard of credits and a son created with my DNA.”

Cad shook his head in disbelief. “So you’re raising a little you, then?”

Jango shook his head. “I don’t see it that way. Boba does seem to have the best parts of me, but it’s not by design. He’s just a genuinely good kid. I don’t know how that’s possible. I was a little hellion.”

So was Cad. He wasn't that much younger than Jango when the Mando took him under his wing, but Cad felt like a bumbling kid and twice as stubborn as a reek.

“Cad, you gotta relax or you’ll miss your target every time,” Jango says. It was the fifth time he said this. It was the tenth bottle Cad had missed.

Jango’s tone never changes, though. Always a little gruff. Always a little gentle. Unwaveringly insistent.

"I’m calm, boss!” The duros snarled, his hat sinking slightly over bulbous red eyes.

“Oh yeah.” Jango snorted. “You sound real calm.” He placed a warm hand on Cad’s bony shoulder. “It’s okay to be nervous. And I’m not just talking about here and now, shooting bottles off a fence. I’m talking about life in general. It’s okay to be scared. Just don’t let your brain dictate what those hands are going to do.” Jango tapped his temple, then held up a calm hand. “Screaming mind. Cool hand. You master that and you’ll be unstoppable. Now take a deep breath, aim, exhale, and squeeze that trigger.”

“Maybe you just needed a patient mentor,” Cad mumbled.

“I heard your old boss was really patient,” Jango said.

Cad’s heart sank and he gave a little shrug, something he hadn’t done since before he added the “Bane” to his name.

“I missed you, too, Cad.”

“Fuck you,” Cad grumbled, but there was no bite to the words.

Jango led Cad through a complex labyrinth that was damn impossible to navigate.

“Is there anything you can tell me about what you’re doing here?” Cad asked, feeling like he’s walking through the gullet of some angelic serpent. “Kaminoans are cloners, I know that much. So…they’re cloning you? A lot?”

“Yes,” Jango said.

“And they grew you a son.”

“Yes.”

Cad rankled. “How many of ‘you’ are they making?”

“That’s classified.”

“Are they making mercenaries?”

Jango thought for a moment. “More organized than that.”

“Soldiers, then. For who?”

“That’s classified.”

“You’re really okay with them using your face, and your everything, to make soldiers?”

“Like I said, the pay is insane and I have a son.” Jango flashed him a smirk. “If you join me here, I’ll tell you everything in excruciating detail, including why I wanted to stay.”

“Never,” Cad growled, gut twisting again.

Jango’s easy smile slid off his face, his eyes lingering as if only now he realized Cad would never change his mind.

Cad couldn’t bear looking at Jango like this. “Just tell me about the job.”

“Alright.”

Jango pressed a control panel in an alcove Cad hadn’t noticed moments before. The wall slid open to an observation deck overlooking an artificial combat zone made to look like a war-torn village. Plenty of places to hide, plenty more blind spots. Dangerous and advantageous for a sniper that knew what they were doing.

“The facility has designed a squad of experimental clones, trained to be elite combatants. One of them is designed to be a sniper. I want you to train him.”

In the center of the village was a lone tower. Combat droids were starting to swarm around it.

“You can’t train him yourself? You’re the one who taught me how to shoot.” Cad noticed a silhouette move around atop the tower, a sniper blaster rifle peeking its muzzle out like the snout of a curious creature, then withdrawing again. No shot was fired.

Hesitation.

Not good.

“I did, but we both know you can shoot rings around me when it comes to a sniper blaster rifle. I wouldn’t trust this assignment to anyone but you.”

“I ain’t a teacher,” Cad pressed.

“He doesn’t need one. He needs…” Jango thought for a moment. “A role-model.”

Cad laughed and popped another toothpick in his mouth. “Oh yeah, I’m a real upstanding citizen.”

“See? I knew I could count on you.”

Cad rolled his eyes. “So who is this grunt?”

“CT-9904.”

Cad frowned. "That ain’t a name.”

“It’s his designation. It’s what they use here.”

Cad lifted the brim of his hat, watching the blaster rifle peek out again and fire a blast.

A droid went down.

The muzzle poked out another hole.

Two blaster bolts fired, two droids fall.

Every shot fired found it's mark, but it wasn't enough to thin out the herd of droids.

“He’s got a good eye, but he’s taking too long to take those shots,” Cad observed.

“Remind you of anyone?” Jango asked.

“Take the shot, Cad.”

“I will! I just need to-”

An air horn blared beside Cad’s ear. The blaster bolt hit the tree, several feet above the target.

“What the fuck, boss?!”

Jango tossed the air horn cheekily in the air. “Stop hesitating. Take the shot or don’t, but this lollygagging isn't going to save your skin on a hunt.”

“Fine…just stop firing that damn airhorn.”

“Alright, alright. Here," Jango tucked the air horn in his belt and held up his empty hands. "I’m done with it. Take the shot whenever you’re ready.”

Cad lined his shot up again. But…

…What if he misses?

What if he’ll never be good at this? Not like Jango.

Jango was perf-

The airhorn bellows overhead. Cad nearly drops the rifle.

“Jango!!”

“C’mon, do you think your bounty will stop firing at you if you ask nicely? Work through the distractions. Ignore the voice filling your head with thoughts of failure. We’re out here until you land ten hits on that target. This is non-negotiable. And you better hurry, that storm’s getting closer by the minute.”

Cad’s rifle shook, already feeling the bitter wind attacking his senses.

“You got this, Cad…” Jango said, nudging Jango’s elbows, gently reminding him to keep them close to his body. “...I wouldn’t be teaching you if I didn’t believe in your greatness.”

CT-9904 managed to take down a dozen droid, but two dozen more were climbing the tower. The blaster rifle’s muzzle poked in and out of the slits in the tower too quickly to be effective. He was panicking.

Jango pressed a button on the control panel.

“Simulation Over .” The droids powered down, falling off the tower into heaps on the tile floor.

“CT-9904,” Jango called through the comm. “Report to Control.”

Cad braced himself to see a copy of Jango emerge from the tower. Would he act like Jango? Would he have Jango’s memories? Jango knew Cad better than any humanoid alive...would this clone, too?

The answer came in a resounding "No" in the shape of a skinny kid with a shock of white hair dressed in a blue and red jumpsuit. He slid down the ladder, hopping lightly over the droid bodies, and bounding towards the lift.

“Dank farrik, Jango. You’re making kid soldiers here?”

“It’s more complicated than that,” Jango replied.

“Complicated how?”

“I bet you can get what I'm going to say”

“Classified. Right.”

The door slid open and the kid peeked in before entering the room, his eyes narrowing at the sight of the Duros.

Despite being Duros, Cad had spent most of his adult life around a variety of humanoids, most of them human. Cad could’ve picked this kid out of a lineup as Jango’s spawn, but…he didn’t look like a copy.

Experimental clones…right.

“CT-9904 is part of a special operation of elite warriors. He’s our finest sniper.”

“The best sniper in the facility,” the kid said, with a voice surprisingly raspy, like he smoked a pack of deathsticks before coming up here. The kid's sarcasm came through loud and clear though, like he had heard others call him the best sniper in the facility.

Doesn't mean he believes it himself.

The kid kept his eyes lowered, one fist clenched, the other white knuckling the strap of his sniper rifle, a version of the 773 Firepuncher augmented to accommodate for this scrawny child.

None of this felt right.

But this was a job, and…it was at Jango’s request.

“You’re welcome to any training room here. Any weapons you need are at your disposal. Droids too.”

Cad shook his head. “No.”

The kid and Jango both looked up at Cad with the same confusion.

“No?” Jango asked.

“Not going to train him here. You want me to show him the ropes, he’s gotta have a taste of what the galaxy is like out there.”

“He can’t leave the facility.”

The kid looked up at Jango, his eyes wide and round, maybe out of fear...

Or maybe he's hoping to get out and see the galaxy for a change.

“Says who?” Cad challenged.

“Says…uh...fuck…I don’t know, Cad. He’s property of the facility.”

Cad rankled.

Property? Who the fuck is Jango anymore?

Cad took his toothpick out to point at Jango emphatically. “Those are my terms, take ‘em or find yourself another sniper with skills as good as mine.” He flicked the toothpick against Jango's armor. It plinked musically before hitting the ground. “Good luck with that," he sneered.

The kid was now looking up at Cad with those large, owl-like eyes, but they were joined by a sneer of his own.

Jango sighed. “Fine. You’ll be compensated for any credits you spend, just…don’t take him to the Canto Bight race tracks, okay? I want daily reports. You return him when I say it's time to come back.”

"You have my word," Cad said. And he meant it.

The kid looked up at Jango. “Can I say bye to Tech first?”

Jango ignored the request. “Thanks for doing this, Cad.”

“I’m doing it for the credits.”

Jango sighed. “Don’t hold back on him. He can handle whatever you throw at him.”

“You never pulled punches,” Cad said, dryly. “Don’t reckon I would either.”

“I can handle it,” the raspy kid echoed, throwing Cad a dangerous look unlike worn by Jango's face.

But Cad knew that look all too well: The look of a frightened predator.

#the bad batch #star wars the clone wars #clone wars #cad bane #jango fett #bad batch crosshair #The First Toothpick

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irrealis-mood · 9 months

Text

Getting Into Knives (Final Choice)

Crossposted from AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49311451

(You can't give me back what you've taken/But you can give me something that's almost as good)

The final meeting of Cazador and Astarion. Astarion makes a choice, and Eustace is a witness. Spoilers for Astarion's personal quest/ Act 3 of Baldur's Gate 3, and TW for violence. May continue this at a later date.

They see the potential for power in him, have seen it from the beginning. Astarion has always been a viper, a slick-fanged creature all slanted smiles, and when snakes are hurt, the venom comes to the front of the tooth.

Standing beside him, Eustace can practically feel the vibrant fury seeping from his every pore, can taste the coming storm of violence as sweet as petrichor on their tongue. They touch the death-mark on the back of their neck, more to soothe themself than to draw on the power of the divine.

Cazador stands before them, resplendent in red and black, lording over his dungeon’s depths. The thralls which came to their camp mere nights ago are already held in place by arcane bonds, ready to further the Black Mass, but Astarion pays them no heed. His focus is on the vampire lord before him, the emblem of his two hundred torturous years, and his fingers twitch at his rapier. He is seconds from his resolve fraying and driving headlong into the man--no, not a man anymore but a creature--before him, damned be the cost.

Eustace sends their vision down the parasite bond to him, doing their best to rein him back; the icy nothingness of the grave awaits anyone who dares go forth without thought.

Astarion steps back, once, twice, but his eyes burn bright red in reflection of his former master’s magic.

“So this is our prodigal son, come at last,” the man finally croons.

His voice hits Astarion like a knife to the chest. After weeks of not hearing it, not being forced to listen, being practically free from his bonds, here it is again. He feels like a child, like some sort of feral animal, like an insect about to be crushed by a boot. His shoulders curl, at once ready to pounce and cower.

“Do not slouch, boy! Have I taught you nothing? Have you no self-respect?”

His back straightens for a fraction of a second before he catches himself.

“You should be begging for your family’s forgiveness, on your knees, after what you have done. Abandoning the poor wretches you kept as siblings, and your master--” Cazador’s voice raises higher, nasal, disgusted.

“I owe you nothing,” Astarion spits. “Forgiveness? Hardly, after how you treated me. Treated all of us. Punishing us for the slightest error, torturing us, carving blasphemy into our skin.”

“It made you stronger, but not strong enough. Never strong enough. Despite how hard I worked to perfect you, you have not met my expectations. Piteous thing.”

The rage roils up again in him, tangible. It would be easy to give into blind fury, to make a sudden swing of his rapier, or a dagger, rend his skin even for a moment-- but before he can dash ahead, before his hand can even grasp his weapon, Eustace steps forth from next to him.

As ever, they radiate frigid calm, but Astarion knows that beneath it they’re as angry as he is. The evening talks they’d had over the weeks speak to that fact. Eustace had joked about flaying Cazador alive when he had first spoken of his master, all the while sharpening the bone dagger they kept at their side. How many nights had passed since the day they spoke of the webs fate spun for them, the un-lives they both were chained to? What had they said, when they told him of their own secrets?

“I would want, for once in my life, to have a hand in my own fate.”

And his hand seeks to change his own, so very badly.

Eustace continues their slow walk forward, dark eyes glinting in the light of the mage-lit thuribles, and when they speak, it is with a tone he isn’t sure he’s ever heard from them. Some power, some resonance that is unfamiliar to his ears, but from the corner of his eye, Astarion sees Shadowheart stiffen and brace for a fight..

“You have escaped death for centuries, Cazador Szarr, while visiting myriad horrors on this city, this world. So too, have you escaped justice.”

“What is this, boy, that you allow to speak for you? A cattle that professes justice? What disrespect you have brought into my home, and yet, I should not be surprised.”

“I am a bringer of no law but the divine ending, the completion of a cycle. You are due.” Eustace says simply, and draws their blade.

“I gave you everything, and yet, that did not suffice. I will wring your body free of insolence with my bare hands, and when you are bound and broken, you will burn in the divinity of my ascension!” Cazador’s voice echoes off the dungeon’s walls and falls into the chasms below him. Before he can entrap Astarion’s in his arcane lock, in the fraction of a moment, Eustace pushes the pale elf backwards, so he falls among the rank and file of his fellow companions. He readies his rapier, tips it with poison just for luck.

At once, crowds of bats fly screeching towards them, horrible abominations of wolves leap from their stations and make to pounce, Cazador fades into a red mist-- Astarion’s compatriots leap to the ready, spears and arrows and daggers lining up in defence.

And calm, quiet Eustace, Eustace who can stop an argument with a dark look and a quiet word, Eustace who has never met a battle they can’t strategize around, is stepping to the front of the line, before Astarion--

Necromantic energy pulses out of them in torrents of icy waves, eyes black as when they faced Ketheric Thorm, knuckles white enough to echo the bone dagger in their hand. They walk, and then they run, hurling spells with barely a whisper. Karlach leads the charge of the rest of them, screaming bloody murder as she frenzies, and the rest fall into alignment like a well oiled machine. Astarion can’t help but be swept up in the battle tide, slashing any creature coming close; the bloodlust, the promise of sweet vengeance fills his head, as he howls and plunges dagger and rapier into the oncoming storm. The day is here, and it is his, and he will win .

When Cazador retreats to his sarcophagus to regenerate himself, Astarion rips off the stone lid with a strength he wasn’t aware he possessed; throws the vampire lord to the ground and relishes the hiss of furious pain he hears.

“Get your hands off me, you pathetic worm.” Cazador grits out, but Astarion mocks his hateful words with a quick retort of his own, and comes to stand over the man’s body.

Eustace stands meters back, watching with an inscrutable gaze as Astarion rounds on his former master.

“I can kill you. I can do it here and now, and finally, I’ll be free of your torment. I won’t have to be afraid of you ever again. And if I take your place, I’ll be free of fear entirely. I’ll have the world at my beck and call.” he says, ragged.

“You idiot child, do you think I could let anyone usurp me? Those scars of yours mean you’re a part of this ritual too. You try it, you’ll burn just like the rest of your kin.” A wheezy cackle oozes through broken ribs.

Astarion makes a hiss of fury, and turns to face Eustace. His face is haunted, determined.

“I need your help to--to carve my scar markings on his back. So I can replace him. I shall ascend in his place.”

The elf’s eyes are wide, half deranged in their anger, in their anguish.

Eustace knows that desperation well, the search for some scrap of power that can turn the tide of fate. From the search for an escape from the bargain their mother made for their soul, to the moment they knew no god would help them, to the moment they found they were infected with a mindflayer.

How easy it could be, to tell him they would do it. For him to relinquish what humanity he had left, into the sweet waves of devilish power. How easy for Astarion, to give himself over, to be remade a god-king.

“Eustace, please. I need your help. Answer me.”

They have never heard him beg before, not truly. Not like this. It will hurt, they know, whichever path he chooses.

Eustace walks with silent footfalls over the stone to his side. They wave a hand over Cazador’s body where he lies on the ground, enveloping him in black tendrils to gag him and keep him in place. Turning to Astarion, they do not touch, as much as they could reach out a hand to steady his shaking form.

“You think this will bring you your freedom,” they say to the man before them.

“Of course it will, are you mad ? What has all of this been for, if not for freedom? For power?”

“The two are not the same.”

“I can make him nothing, I can make him less than nothing. I can be so much more than he is, if you’ll help me ,” Astarion pleads.

“You’ll be consumed,” they respond.

“No, that’s the point, I’ll replace Cazador in the ritual, and he’ll take my place, that way I can--”

“Astarion.” They let his name ring in the silence until the echo quiets. “You will be consumed, if you take part in this. Not by a death or sacrifice, but by your own power.”

They cast a glance to the vampire lord struggling against his bonds.

“As it devoured him,” they speak with disgust, “it will devour you wholly. You may become something of a god, something of a new being, but you will be empty . A shell of who you were. You will bring no end to your suffering.”

Astarion lets out a mirthless laugh, venomous, but they continue.

“You will become him. Not in name, but in spirit, in ideal, searching for power over all else. Is that what you want? To follow your master, eternally?”

“Gods but I want him dead , I want him to suffer, I want to be-- I don’t want to be afraid anymore,”

Astarion whispers to them, his hand gripping a claw into their shoulder.

“If you want him dead, then kill him. Kill him any way that brings you pleasure, brings you peace. But do not kill yourself in the process.”

They stop a moment, gathering their thoughts, and then cover his hand with their own, touch firm but voice breaking. “Astarion, you are more than what he made you, and you--you have a choice, you can change your fate . You don’t have to become a god to do the impossible, right here and now.”

The words pierce into his skull, and he wants to bat away the thoughts and feelings and bring back the blessed clarity from moments ago. Eustace always had a way of worming their way into people, hells, into him . All the way back on the beach after the nautiloid crash, when he had pinned their body onto the rocky sand and put a knife to their throat, he had faltered at the look in their eyes; as if they stared at death and found it lacking, unafraid and almost curious. The look they give Astarion now could not be further from the one he saw then-- Eustace’s eyes are far from emotionless, there is a bitterness, evident in their gaze, but all the same, a longing desperate hope.

The words unsaid hang in the air. Do what I cannot.

Karlach, Shadowheart and the rest watch carefully from a distance, eyes pinned to Cazador as well. Several moments pass, where the tension is strung tight, a bowstring ready to snap.

Astarion lets out a strangled breath, shrugs off Eustace’s hand. They let it and the tendrils keeping Cazador in place fall away. The elf stands alone over Cazador, the fated roles reversed.

“You don’t deserve the mercy of a quick death.” He spits out, teeth bared. “But I’ll enjoy the moments we have as much as I can.” He takes Cazador’s dagger, the one he kicked away from him as soon as he threw the vampire to the ground. Hefting the weight in his hand, he crouches so close that if the vampire lord could still breathe he would feel the breath on his face.

“You have no power over me, nor anyone else. I am not your shadow anymore.”

The blade plunges deep into the flesh, rending and tearing and ripping, and no screams have ever sounded so sweet as Cazador’s. Knife into heart and stomach and anything he can reach, over again, and down the bond Eustace feels the flood of agonizing victory, the culmination of two hundred years of torture and madness as Astarion carries out his bloody work.

Minutes pass. The screams stop, but when Astarion weeps bitterly and cries out to the heavens, Eustace feels as if they are the one being murdered.

#astarion #astarion bg3 #bg3 spoilers #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 fic #astarion x mc #astarion x tav

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