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mysticmunson · 1 year

Text

between four walls (e.m.)

a/o/b: alpha!eddie munson x omega!reader

summary: when you disappear from school for a few days, eddie is a bit bewildered, until he has a sneaking suspicion.

warning: a/o/b, smut, language

an: hi friends, thank you so much for another follower milestone! i asked what you would like next and this won! i've been working on a/o/b fics off and on for a few months, i think its very fun so feel free to message me ideas about them for blurbs! all my love. xx elora.

The sticky air of Hawkins, Indiana made Eddie’s slovenly curls cling to his neck, likely getting tangled in his beaded, silver chain as his sneakers padded across the rubble. The last place he wanted to be was in Hawkins High, the fluorescent lights bouncing off the cream walls too poignantly and banners announcing peer events.

He had always had a distaste for conformity, but after presenting as an Alpha, he clandestinely craved a sense of ordinariness. His toes pressed against the tip of his sneakers, his favorite leather jacket felt tighter, and his skin felt like the fizz on a freshly opened Coca-Cola. Sensations fluctuate depending on the day with his body attempting to steady itself as his mind tries to comprehend his new demeanor.

While every day had been weird since that fateful day last month, his friends tried to maintain normality by focusing on Hellfire or acknowledging how his buff physique made him look menacing, but things had been slightly off with you.

Every day you sat beside Eddie, even if he assured he wouldn’t be upset if you decided to relocate to avoid the relentless teasing he faced, but you stayed. After years of friendship, you chose to ignore any conflicted gazes, opting to enjoy your company. With satin ribbons in your hair, flowy, floral dresses that rest just above your knees, and your soft skin that always smelled like vanilla from your tube of hand lotion, he felt protective over you.

So when you moved from his left to the very end of the table, each inch felt like miles, cursing himself for feeling so intensely. Always admiring your beauty from a respectful distance, he adamantly maintained the friendship boundary, learning the line and fighting to take a step over.

As he sat in his math class, he awaited your arrival to your assigned seat at the second row of wooden desks, but the bell rang and it remained empty. This was the third day in a row, the first time you had even missed a full day, always finding some hidden strength to persevere through most of the school day. Hell, you often grilled Eddie on his lack of punctuality when it came to his education.

The hairs on his arms stood up, his foot tapping relentlessly against the freshly waxed tile below, trying to rationalize your behavior and disappearance. Plucking the loose threads on his ripped jeans, he couldn’t bother to even think of equations.

Your lack of communication had him on high alert, resisting the urge to confront you in fear of scaring you. He didn’t feel a need to worry about it until he presented, his voice dropped a tad lower, his facial hair growing faster which left him with consistent stubble, and his eyes felt sharper despite their baby-like softness.

As class ended with Eddie not retaining a word of information, he looked at the double doors sending sunlight through, thinking how easy it would be to drive to your house and find out what was wrong. Why you hadn’t been answering his calls, why you weren’t at school, and why you even missed Hellfire. Granted, you didn’t know much about Dungeons and Dragons and usually just sat and watched, it felt peculiar to see your chair empty.

Meanwhile in a quiet house at the curve of a cul de sac, you laid in bed wearing a shirt a size too big and underwear, leaving your mouth open to breathe. The fever encompassing your body added to your discomfort, tears selvage as your tired eyes stare at the wall, hoping that you would be back to normal soon.

Initially convinced it was a stomach ache, an awful flu that had you withering away in your bed, flustered as could be with clammy hands. But your gut wasn’t repulsed, it was the opposite, despite your body feeling like it was on fire as you laid in your bed, alone.

It had been two miserable days since you presented as an omega, leaving you stranded with nothing to assist yourself. The clock only seemed to be moving slower as you could barely sleep without finding yourself in the depths of another dream, a dream of him.

“I’m glad we checked on you, you look like hell.” Robin joked, walking through your bedroom door with Nancy right behind. Even in your delirious state, you knew they typically didn’t hang out together, furrowing your brows.

“Steve’s in the car waiting,” Nancy responded to your voiceless query, reaching her hand up to your forehead with a frown. “Shit, you’re burning up, have you gone to a doctor?”

You shook your head, burrowing half of your face into your pillow with a deflated sigh, “I feel like shit and my stomach hurts, but not in a bad way, but so much that it is painful?” You stuttered in confusion, eyes hazy and unfocused.

Robin fiddled with the various knick knacks in your room, lifting a pair of earrings to her in the mirror. Nancy stood back, looking at you with a thoughtful expression, rubbing her chin almost comically.

“I also just want to call Eddie, but I keep feeling like I’m going to cry if I do. I talk to him everyday! It’s not my period either, I don’t know what's happening!” You exasperated, clenching your sheets closer to your chest as Nancy’s features clenched, sitting on the corner of your bed.

Eddie had been your best friend for years and your longing crush for most of them. Conversations on the phone were routine for you, usually playfully arguing about something meaningless or watching a tv show while giving commentary.

“Sounds like you're presenting, dude.” Robin laughed, turning around, only to be met with your fear filled face and Nancy’s “Did you seriously just say that?” expression that Robin had experienced frequently.

With your parents being an alpha and omega duo, the chances they gave birth to one was highly likely, it was something you had expected. The days prior had left you anxious and exhausted, believing it just to be school related and nothing to note.

“What?” You mumbled, sitting up, breath picking up as tears welled up, “Eddie’s an alpha, right? Oh my God!”

“Hey, hey! Calm down, you’re fine.” Nancy assured, pushing your shoulder gently back, looking at Robin for some form of support.

“I just want Eddie, but I-” You whimpered, hands coming up to your face before a random flannel was thrown at you from Robin.

His flannel.

His fucking red and black flannel he had accidentally left last weekend, you could’ve cried when you smelt it, the pain intensifying, but also blooming peace.

“I don’t think that’s the best idea right now.” Nancy stroked your hair, even her heart breaking a bit at your muffled sadness. “Just try to relax, drink some water, and distract yourself. Okay?” You nodded, thanking them through the fabric in front of your face.

As the girls trudged down the stairs, Robin looked at Nancy with a bewildered face, the front door closing behind them.

“We should tell Eddie! Apparently it’s fucking brutal the first time around!” She kept her tone hushed, Nancy sighing as she looked at the grass beneath our feet.

“She’s had a crush on him for years, Rob. What if something happens and it ruins their friendship? We have to let nature run its course. If she calls him, so be it, but we can’t be the ones to make that call.” Nancy sighed, opening Steve’s back seat door and piling in, Robin filing in the front.

The days for you were fairly torturous, only comforted by the smokey scent of the old flannel and the fantasies you entertained. Your mind began to run as you envisioned Eddie in all his alpha glory, which you hadn’t had the honor of seeing since he immediately goes into hiding when his rut hits.

His broad shoulders, firm grip that is free of rings since his hands swell, his plush lips cascading down your frame. The thought alone made you whimper, opening your eyes to glance at your pink phone, your shaking hands not even able to spin the dial. Your wooden bedside table felt miles away as you stared at it, tears pooling in your eyes at your helplessness.

Part of you hoped he noticed your exodus while the other hoped things would go completely back to normal when you returned. The concept was naive, knowing there was no way you would be able to go back to a regular friendship with him, a thought that plagued you as soon as he returned to school after his first rut.

The front doors of the school couldn’t open quick enough, having not spent a week apart throughout your whole friendship. Even when your family would go out of town, you would call and talk on the phone as if he were right in front of you.

His shoes squeaked against the freshly waxed tile of Ms. Green’s history class, Eddie strolling to his assigned seat towards the front. His chest was broader, thighs a bit thicker, and his face had a certain maturity that you didn’t recall. He turned over his shoulder, ignoring the stares from everyone else and locking eye contact with you, giving you a grin that you exchanged.

When you walked out of class, he yanked you into a hug playfully, laughing in a huskier tone. For a moment you felt dizzy, shaking your head and pushing the unwarranted anxiety to the side. He was your best friend who you had seen shitfaced, crying at romcoms, and shared his bed when you didn’t want to go home.

Things felt different though, never having been friends with an Alpha made everything novice. Each interaction with him made you shiver, feeling light headed with a subtle pain in your abdomen. So you forced space between you, keeping conversation to a minimum and avoiding him if possible. You assumed the pain would subside after a few days, but every time you tried to inch closer, it came crawling back.

In the solitude of your bedroom, your mind drifted to Eddie, starting with the curiosity of where he was or who he was with. Then the thought of him with someone to help him through his rut crept in, bringing a wave of sadness with it. Your feelings for Eddie were prominent for a long time, but you feared losing your best friend, choosing to have him as a pal than not at all.

You thought of him buffing up even more than when he was at school, remembering when you felt his crotch pressed against you when he scooted past, the prominent bulge gathering your attention. Envisioning the chance to touch him made your mouth water, trembling in your pajamas at the thought of his arms holding you and pressing his chest against yours. The way his dick wouldn’t fit your hand, having to use both to fully wrap around it and pleasing him.

The idea anyone else did it made you feel sick, grabbing his sweatshirt he left over once and inhaling the scent. The seemingly innocent action made you feel like a pervert as his perfume lingered faintly on the cotton.

Those thoughts felt like pure cotton candy to the ones you had now, of how he could walk in and do whatever he wanted and you’d love it. No matter what action he was committing, you would cry and beg for more. Even the idea of him being in the same room as you had you whimpering, twisting and turning with huffs of built frustration.

Nancy and Robin stopped by a few times to check in on you, knowing you were too overwhelmed to make yourself food or get water. The school hours they had would usually sync with your nap time as you always woke at random moments in the night. Eddie had mentioned you to Robin that morning, wondering if she had seen you, which she attempted to deflect.

“Why don’t you and Wheeler sit with my boys today?”

Nancy almost killed Robin for saying yes, not because of Eddie’s reputation, but because she knew Robin was close to breaking. Always going soft after seeing you, saying how they need to just get you help and speed up this process.

So with sandwiches in hand, they sat quietly as the members of Corroded Coffin conversed about the latest Hellfire meeting. The younger boys were on a freshman field trip, conveniently leaving room for the girls to sit. Eddie snacked on the cold cafeteria food with lingering eyes on them, their skin crawling at the information they knew.

Thankfully, the talkative nature of Gareth and Jeff derailed everyone’s attention, only noticing the 5 minutes left when Nancy took a glance at her watch as they went to throw away their trash. With freedom at their fingertips, it only seemed pleasantly ironic for it all to come tumbling down when Jason Carver appeared.

The potent bags under his eyes made him resemble a tortured Greek God, bronzed skin under the sun kissed hairs on his head. Eddie opened his mouth to begin his tangent, feeling his legs twitching to hop upon the tabletops, even though his recent development made him a bit calmer.

“Where is she?” Jason asked, not even glancing at the man beside him, locking on the girl's enlarged eyes.

“Who?” Robin questioned, providing an awkward smile that made Jason scoff, wishing his skills developed enough to find you himself.

Jason was one of the other alpha’s at school, his rut helping him with sports and wearing it proudly on his sleeve. His progression made sense, fulfilling the family history of powerful alphas, but he had yet to find an omega to care for. Or even just to hold him over as most went into seclusion during their heats.

He wouldn’t have even known if a fellow member of the basketball team overheard the girls talking in hushed tones in the hallway, presuming no one could hear them over the sounds of chatter and clashing lockers.

As if intended, the bell rang loudly, everyone standing to return to class. Jason kept his intense gaze until his friends yanked him away, pestering him for information about that night's practice. Eddie’s gaze didn’t waver as he looked at the both of them, smelling a tinge of anxiety on them, a convenient sense he inhabited.

“You guys have 10 seconds to say why Jason Carver just said her name.” He responded with fraudulent tranquility, his black lunch pail secured tightly in his palm, holding his ground despite the varying rushing bodies beside them.

After a moment of silence, Nancy found herself surprised at her lack of a quick rebuttal, something about the look Eddie was giving her making her freeze. It wasn’t one of infatuation, more akin to fear as his tensity remained.

“She presented!” Robin sighed, shoulders relaxing as if pounds had been removed from her chest. Her friend smacked her arm, watching as the man across from them went stagnant. Despite the fleeting deliberations, all the girls across from him saw was his clenched jaw and his eyes diverting to the spot you typically sat.

“As what? And why the fuck does Jason Carver know before me?” He gritted out, clenched fists glued at the side of his thighs.

The bell signaling class started went off, jolting Nancy and Robin from their subtle haze, trying to think of anything to divert his attention. However, Robin couldn’t stop thinking about how you were crying for him, that you would feel infinitely better if she just mentioned the slight detail.

“I don’t know how he found out Eddie-” Nancy snapped, becoming irritated with the theatrics, wishing she was just in algebra class for the first time ever.

“As an omega!” Robin blurted, Eddie’s eyes widening as his fists loosened, “She presented and has been a mess! She’s too emotional to do anything, just wallowing away and whining for you.” The last part trailed off, but Eddie understood it clearly, his instincts that just were beginning to sprout commencing to full bloom.

With tunnel vision, he found his way out of the school, not caring if any teacher saw him. His mind was on you. You, who had been crying in pain for him for days and no one cared to mention it.

The way to your home went by in a blur, glad he knew the route well enough to not maintain complete fixation on the journey. His respiring didn’t cease as he sped down the old roads, trying his best to avoid the potholes or random piles of trash.

He barely put the car into park before he was racing up your driveway, putting his hand behind the potted plant at the right side of the maroon door. With the key in hand, he was soon in, putting it in the nearby bowl at the entryway table. The house was quiet, everything in a perfect state, making him remember your parents were out of town for the week.

The aroma reached his nose like a tidal wave, unfamiliar yet agrestal as he saw the light glowing from under the door at the end of the hall. His socks hit the carpet as he yanked his shoes off, promenading down the beige carpet with small floral detailing.

The door opened when his hand gripped the bronze handle, finding you asleep in an oversized shirt, curled in on yourself with his lapsed flannel. A warm spread across his chest and his groin, stifling the animalistic noise fighting through. Approaching you, he pushed the hair from your face, feeling the intensity of your fever on his shaking palms.

His scent made you stir, squeaking as your body searched for the touch with the twist of your neck. He trailed his finger down the bridge of your nose, noting the small pores he had never been able to see before, trailing to your cupid's bow.

Your eyes fluttered open as he knelt beside you, cupping your cheek gently as if you were fine china. Your pupils were dilated, practically encompassing your whole iris, and he could feel your internal heat increasing with his proximity.

“Eddie.” You mumbled, confused if this was a cruel dream that your hormonal mind was conjuring, but he smiled, his thumb brushing past your bottom lashes. Lunging forward without a second thought, you wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him on the bed, legs squirming with the growing discomfort between them.

As his body enveloped yours, he clenched his eyes tight, feeling the profound burst of testosterone. His stupor was interrupted when he felt a surge of wetness on his jeans, pulling away to see the slick that seeped through your thin cotton panties and to your mattress.

Wanting to avoid any embarrassment on your part, he smashed his lips to yours, keeping a steady hand on your jaw to maintain the pacing. There was no time to think about what you were doing or what your friendship would be after this, just the need to be close.

“You’re okay, I’ve got you, my omega.” He puffed as you whimpered, sitting up on his knees to pull off his shirt, initially going to throw it on the floor until you snatched it to bring to your nose. He plucked it out of your grasp with a teasing smile, putting it above your head beside your white pillows.

His hands found the hem of your shirt, inching it slowly up your body, revealing the skin he had been dreaming of. Discarding the old cloth, he stared in hunger at your chest as his hands grasped the mounds of flesh upon them. Wincing at your cry from the abrupt touch, simultaneously becoming harder beneath his constricting jeans.

Managing a way to strip them, he was left in boxers that did little to conceal his arousal, yet all his attention was on the sea between your legs. The fabric was so wet, the baby pink went to a darkened tone, making him rip them off.

“Oh, this cunt is just drooling for me, isn’t it?” He chuckled, running a finger through your folds before slotting it between his lips. Gasping, you reached to grab him, which he obliged. His lips met yours like slotted puzzle pieces, shimmying off his last article of clothing.

“Alpha, please.” You mewled, eyes wide as your lips hung open as he grabbed his length. The growl that escaped was impetuous, your nipples skimming across his milky chest, his hand stopping your jaw from when you tried to look downward.

“You’re okay, omega- Shh, it’s okay. Take a deep breath.” He says softly, thumb stroking across your scorching skin, applying slight pressure.

He had always been well endowed, but after his presentation, things became more intense, especially when he was aroused. Eddie thought the idea that alpha’s couldn’t be with beta’s because it was dangerous was just dramatics, but when he came to full hardness with his knot in place, it made sense.

The last thing he wanted was for you to see him below right now, knowing your brain was already scattered and that he didn’t want to scare you. As an omega, your body was made for this, it was begging for it. It just took a little getting used to.

His tip had barely probed your walls before you winced, clutching onto his shoulders like a lifeline. Though he knew you were in slight discomfort, something brought him amenity knowing he was going to help you feel much better.

Protruding further in, he slowly rocked his hips back and forth, pressing wet kisses to your skin and savoring the essence coming from it. He thought he could become high on you alone as you basked in his own scent, feeling as if it coated you from head to toe.

“Feelin’ okay?” Eddie mustered, jolting his head back slightly when you started nodding profusely, making him chuckle and go deeper.

“You f-feel so good, so so good. Y-your cock,” You cried out, the tears tumbling down with mixed moans, “You’re so pretty and so n-nice to me, s-so nice even when you don’t-t have to be, which is so nice of y-you.”

“Baby,” Eddie’s chest constricts and he smiles down to continue, only realizing he had inched his way fully inside when his balls bounced against the swell of your ass. A loud moan that vibrates within his chest comes out, making you grip to him more securely.

“S-so big and full, so full, I don’t want you to leave, please.” You whimpered, hand reaching to feel his hair, “You m-mean so much to me a-and I l-love you. Thank you, thank you.”

“Sweetheart, shh, it’s okay.” He coos with a huge grin, almost laughing with how precious you are to him right now, “I love you too, I’m not going anywhere.”

The first orgasm you experience hits you like a sucker punch, his words of affirmation being the final straw, shaking like a leaf against his firm chest. Your mind goes blank as you let out a string of noises, feeling the way he feels inside you in such intense detail. Your eyes reopened as you whined at the pain still persisting, which Eddie was mere moments away from solving.

He never thought he’d be able to see you like this, not even as an omega, just in general. Your iris’ so wide, he could see his reflection down to the small lines next to his lips. It felt so natural to be inside you, to be protecting you and fulfilling your needs. The thought that Jason Carver almost made it here made his blood boil, thrusting sharply out of instinct, before focusing on you.

“Want you cum, Eddie, want your cum, alpha. Please, please, please! I’ll be good and do whatever you say, you can do whatever you want to me, just, please!” You cried out, sending Eddie to his final straw, his knot snapping loose with a potent moan.

Sublime existed within you, he thought, his mind going completely blank as he pumped you full of his release. Your sobs had turned into subdued mewls as your body felt relaxed for the first time in days, clutching to Eddie with your face in his neck.

Groaning like an old man, he managed to roll onto his back with you still attached and startled by the movement. “It’s okay, just get comfortable, sweetheart.” He murmured, yanking your blue quilted blanket over the both of you despite the sweat, already expecting your come down to be reasonably harsh.

To say Eddie wasn’t the best student was valid, but he did pay attention in health class, learning the dynamics of alphas, omegas, and betas. There was something so intriguing about it to him, thinking it was intricate enough to be a part of Dungeons and Dragons, when a brave warrior saves a helpless civilian.

Even back in the freezing classroom, he felt his heart clench at the explanation of omegas while some tried to joke about it and laugh. Describing the genuine distraught they endure if they’re without a caretaker, a toy being a last resort because of how much emotional support they would need afterwards.

Alpha’s could get away with going solo, a bit pent up and lonely, but nothing like omega’s who became practically helpless. For an auxiliary learning experience, they played a video of a female omega in heat for the room for pre-presenting 18 year old boys. There wasn’t any sex, but it was how emotional she became after just a few minutes, only finding peace when a man came in and picked her up, her alpha. They played one of an alpha, but the pretense didn’t last nearly as long as he could smell out his omega in the room from the start.

The worry that you had been in here for two days plagued him as you took deep breaths on his chest, his knot gradually diminishing. He squeezed you tighter unintentionally, angry that he didn’t know sooner, that he didn’t realize it or that no one told him.

“Look at me.” He stated, a bit too sharp than intended, your obedience falling into place as your chin rested against his chest. Your cheeks were still wet, sniffling as the aftermath endured, looking with distressed eyes.

“Don’t wait to call me, okay? It doesn’t matter if you’re embarrassed. You could’ve hurt yourself.” He exaggerated, regretting his tone as soon as your lip began to wobble, “Hey, sweetheart, hey. It’s okay, I’m not mad, I just don’t want you to be in pain, okay?”

You nodded as he rearranged you both, his length slipping out, much to your dismay. But the need to nest festered within seconds as he went to go get you both drinks and snacks, grabbing his shirt and flannel. Even his jeans joined the pile as it surrounded you, nuzzling into the cotton of his top, toes flexing in delight.

He entered with some water, granola bars and bananas, somehow remembering they were a positive supplement for after a heat even though he forgets his own house number sometimes. Chuckling at the sight, he sat against the headboard as you shuffled into his side, curling up. Holding the cup to your lips, he swiped the spare stream that dripped down your tongue before drinking some himself.

Handing you a piece of the fruit, he opened his snack, but kept his attention on you as you looked downward. His fingers found the loose strands of hair by your ear, stroking them rhythmically as you finished and handed him the peel. You both sat contently as the wrapper and peel were thrown into the bin, but he could feel the slump of your frame, assuming you hadn’t got much rest the past few days.

“Go to sleep, omega, I’ll be here. You’re safe.” He assured, scooting farther down so you were both lying on your backs, wrapping his arms around you.

The sleep was like no other before, instantly submerged into tranquility of varying levels, Eddie being exhausted and waiting till you were out to fall. While you slept, your body still buzzed with nerves, still coming to terms with the new elements surfacing.

Stirring awake in the dark room, you rubbed your eyes and smelled the pheromones exuding from Eddie’s sleeping body that you could now process. The discomfort between your legs surged with wetness, worried you would wake him and he would be displeased at how early it was. The red clock blinked at 5:43am, the sun wasn’t even beginning to show.

Mistakenly peering down at his boxers, your mouth watered at his bulge, feeling an encompassing need to see it. You wanted to press kisses all over him, around the coarse hairs below his belly and sucking on his tip to taste his arousal.

Eddie woke up to quiet fussing, feeling you twist against his chest and look up at him, shocked to see his eyes opened. He could see the guilt right on your face, to which he silently shook his head with a smile, stroking your head.

“Alpha, ‘m sorry, I need your c-cock, please.” You begged, wiggling down to his waistband, pulling out his half hardened length, “S-so big.”

He knew he only had a few minutes before you wouldn’t be able to have him in your mouth anymore, becoming too thick for your throat, so he let you indulge in this. You wanted this, he could see the drool dripping down his shaft as you sucked him, but he also knew this wasn’t going to do anything for you emotionally.

“My pretty, sweet, omega.” His voice coaxed in a morning gruff, “Can have this for just a minute, okay? Did so good yesterday, so proud of you.”

He saw your eyes haze over, eyelids drooping as you hummed around him, his hips resisting the instinct to snap forward. Your repeated suckle made him thicker, unbeknownst to you as the action only soothed you, ignoring the growing pain between your legs.

His hand intertwined with yours as he looked out the slit of the curtains of the window, the orange rays of the sun just cresting the Earth. Something about waking up before sunrise felt forbidden, like the world wasn’t awake yet, that this was stolen time. Time where only you and him existed.

The ache of his knot began to form as he reached down to pull you up, only to hear a yelp. He flinched, looking down to see your wide eyes with his dick between your lips. He forced his growl down to not give you mixed messages, only raising his brows and curling his finger up to him.

When you failed to do so, he lifted you despite your begs, laying you down and hovering over. He hushed you, feeling himself throb against your pretty thighs, ones he definitely wanted to explore more when you weren’t as sensitive. If he were to love on them now, he thinks it’d feel more cruel to you than anything.

You wiggled beneath him, faint pleads escaping your lips as his scent covered you, not being able to comprehend all the feelings that swarmed you. Eddie managed to throw off his boxers, caging you in beneath him as his necklace trickled on your sternum. One of his arms went downward, grabbing the base of himself and giving a few tugs.

“I know what you need, omega.” He gritted, his tip sliding between your silk-like folds with ease, making him shudder. Somehow this managed to calm you down slightly, knowing he knew what to do, even just based on pure instincts.

Slotting inside you, he shut his eyes and moaned, your wetness helping to aid the size of himself. Your moans may have been considered singing if anyone heard the way they flowed together and he wondered if it just sounded that way as your alpha.

“Alpha, please, need your knot. Need so many.” You begged, breaths shallow as your body began to shake, already succumbing to your first orgasm. He couldn’t help, but chuckle at you, nuzzled into the crevice of your neck as he kissed the skin softly.

“My sensitive girl.” He mused, pressing himself further to rub at your clit, making you jolt. His speed increased as he felt himself growing impatient. He could last longer than this, he knew that, but he wasn’t going to try and prolong it, especially when it helped make you feel safe.

“I’ve got a rule, omega,” Eddie began, your eyes wide like saucers as you looked up, “You have to come twice every time I knot, okay?”

Your petulant whine sounded through the room before he hushed you with his own lips, his hand going between your legs to rub at the bud of nerves. Your legs shook profusely against his hips, not expecting the added pleasure that left you speechless.

“Come with me, baby. Gonna fill you up, give you my knot.” He growled, gripping onto the headboard to thrust faster than before, “Fuck, need to fill you up. My omega.” He watched as your tits bounced in rhythm, your orgasm sneaking up on you.

His knot shot into you with velocity, covering your walls completely as you mewled, coming for a second time as your back arched. Eddie thought he almost dented the metal headboard, his hands a mix of red and white as he let go, twitching from the intensity his body was encountering.

Peering down, he saw your eyes shut, mouth opened as you caught your breath with just the tip of your tongue poking out down the middle. He smiled, pushing the hair from your face and kissing you. His knot was still throbbing as it deposited completely within you, hoping he’d be able to keep doing this. Now more prepared for when he rolled onto his back, you just adjusted to be comfortable, hoping he wouldn’t get soft too fast and you could continue this close.

The first presentation was usually a false heat, it has all the same symptoms, but there is little chance of pregnancy. It was one of the reasons he wasn’t too paranoid about giving you his knot, since that is what sedates omegas, but he didn’t want to be too risky. His heart bursted as you settled in his arms, wondering what would happen after your heat was over, trying to assure himself you wanted him. You whined for him and he wasn’t going to let that go.

The next few days consisted of waking up, having sex, Eddie cooking for you, and naps. It was like a slice of heaven in four walls, embracing the affection you were both giving each other.

He had gone back home once to grab clothes, cigarettes, and some notebooks to work on his campaign and music. He had given Wayne a call the first day, saying he was out for the night, but would be back home soon. He hung up before he could hear the response, but knew he’d have to face his uncle eventually. They were close, practically father and son, but they weren’t open in that nature.

He pulled up to the trailer, seeing the familiar truck in the dirt in front, taking a deep breath before stepping on the damp ground. Opening the door gently, he spotted his uncle asleep on the recliner as the news played softly on the TV. Going straight for his bedroom, he shoved as much as he could in his duffle bag.

Truthfully, he was missing you more than he wanted to admit. It was only minutes, yet, he felt a pain in his chest that you were alone. He did wait for you to fall asleep as you tried to act okay with him departing for an hour, untangling your arms and legs from one another.

How he managed to quickly pack his bag with minimal noise was a mystery, but he was grateful, hoping to utilize whatever freetime he had with writing or planning. He even brought some extra shirts for your nest as those were your favorite and his jeans kept rubbing weirdly against your cheeks. Racing to the front door, he had almost escaped as his grasp reached the handle.

“Where were you at and why aren’t you in school, boy?” Wayne grumbled, not even bothering to open his eyes as he laid back. Something about his demeanor could make him seem laid back, but he meant business when it came to Eddie’s future and he didn’t want to add another senior year.

“It’s excused.” Eddie responded cooly, mentioning quickly that he stayed at your home, leaning against the door and rocking on his heels. His nonchalant attitude made the older Munson open his eyes, looking with a squint as he adjusted to the light and to whatever game he thought his nephew was playing at.

Awaiting the explanation, Eddie imagined the ground swallowing him whole, teleporting him back to your cute bedroom with frills and stuffed animals. But no, he was standing in front of his uncle, who was in no mood for shenanigans after an exhausting shift.

“She presented. The school excuses both, uh, parties.” Eddie mumbled, the rubber of his shoes touching as he looked down at them, not seeing the way the man in front of him straightened up.

Humming in response, Wayne sat in thought as the boy refused to make eye contact, unsure as to what his reaction would be. How does one react to something like this?

“Takin’ care of her? She’s a sweet girl, always liked her.” Wayne mused, making their eyes finally meet. While the question could’ve been interpreted in a more vulgar way, he knew what he meant. Meant that he was actually taking care of you as an alpha should, not just to get laid.

“She is and yeah. Feeling better now, didn’t get help till two days after. She asked for me.” He trails his words with pink cheeks, kicking himself for saying too much, but Wayne gives a small chuckle. Not at what he said, but at how much Eddie’s demeanor reminded him of when he was young.

“Alright, alright. Standin’ here looking like a prisoner, go.” He laughed, not really needing any other information as Eddie left within a blink.

The drive back to your house was tortuous, practically smelling you on his clothes in a way that became addicting. With little shame, he inhaled in his shirt deeply while at a red light, the car behind him eventually honking to send him forward.

It was crazy to him that yesterday morning felt so long ago now, that the conversation with Nancy and Robin wasn’t even 24 hours ago. He knows news is never expected fully, but this took him by surprise and made him feel less guilty about getting off to the thought of you during his rut.

He wondered if that’s why you popped in his head no matter how many times he tried to distract himself, your pretty face dewy as he fucked into you at a, seemingly, unforgiving pace. His hands all over your body and you reacted instinctively to them before he filled you to the brim with his knot.

The thoughts ran through his brain until he pulled in your driveway, grabbing his bag and the spare set of keys that used to reside behind the large flower pot. The muffled sounds of music could be heard from your boombox as he stepped inside, kicking off his shoes. Jumping over steps until slipping on the edge, he caught himself by the rail, puffing with annoyance.

A whine rang through his ear like church bells, adding to the ache between his legs that he hadn’t noticed before. Sitting on the edge of the bed, you immediately lit up at his presence, holding open your arms. Plopping down the bag, he dramatically raced towards you while crouching and swooped you into his arms with a laugh.

Litters of kisses were left on both sets of skin, feeling an overcast of warmth as you returned to each other. He only pulled away to drag his bag closer, rummaging through it before lifting up an old Hawkins crewneck sweater, slipping it on you over your large shirt. You practically melted at the way his scent took you, shrinking your head, arms and legs until you were in a tight ball within it.

“Glad you like it, baby.” He chuckled, kissing the patch of your hair that peeked through as he unloaded some of his clothes. It was almost comical how little articles he brought, knowing that most of their days would not involve clothing at all or would only be on long enough to be taken off.

Putting it in a neat pile by your dresser, he dug in his bag to see the condoms made specifically for alpha’s, dreading the fact he would need to wear them soon. He decided to keep it hidden, not wanting to upset you when you weren’t using them yet. He could hear the soft snoring from the tucked away ball on its side, biting back a large grin.

Shimmying off his clothing besides his royal blue briefs, he molded himself around your frame and lifted the blankets over top. He felt your arms wiggling before a practically inaudible whimper as it dawned on him that you couldn’t feel the arm holes in your slumber.

“Goofball.” He mutters to himself, unable to help the smile and pink cheeks as he uncurls you to bring to his chest. Your lips puckered briefly against his peck, the subconscious kiss making him want to squeeze you in joy. He liked existing inside these four walls with you.

taglist plus friends :) : @steeldaisies @meaganjm @masterofmunson @downbythebay4 @femalefilmaker @wiltedwonderland @yourthebrokengirl @jessyballet @iheartyouyou @gloryekaterina @missscarlettangel @variety-fangirl @wigglywoos59 @thegirlblogstuff @lovelyladymayyyy @strawwberrry @ktjmac @dovesnrosesnreblogs @fknemily @spn-obession @imagine-all-the-imagines @fangirl-hoe @deementedforeverr @hellfire-in-hawkins @indouloureux @andvys @lilacletter @prettyboyeddiemunson

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0bticeo · 29 days

Text

lurk | feyd-rautha

part one of five. (part 2.) (part 3.) (part 4.)

summary:

feyd-rautha.

there he is, strong arms spread wide, dual blades stained black, basking in the glorious aftermath of combat. at his feet, atreides soldiers. dead.

you unsheathe your blade, the dull metal grinding against its sheath.

it is kill or be killed, and you intend to live.

wc: 2k

tw: blood. death. non graphic description of gore (this is a gladiator fight). mentions of eugenics. fighting as foreplay. reader may or may not have a blood kink. knife kink??? reader is more refined than feyd but don't let it fool you she's a freak. uuuh hubris? probable inaccurate handling of dune lore, esp with the voice (forgive me for the creative liberty of assuming the mother of the kwisatz haderach should be a freak. as a treat.)

many, many years ago, the sisterhood deems you ready for the gom jabbar. you enter the room, your mother a looming shadow, hands folded in her sleeves, head bowed before a long figure cloaked in shadows.

it doesn’t sit right with you, this intrusion in your mother’s parlor. how dare that old witch make a servant out of your mother in her own house?

“kneel.”

you do. you fall to your knees. before you, a phalto green box. in it, pain. at your neck, the gom jabbar, its deadly poison whispering into your ear.

it tells you about sweet, sweet little death. it tells you the reverend mother will not put your life in danger. not when you’re the culmination of nineteen generations of careful planning.

you are to be married to a harkonnen and bear the kwisatz haderach.

so you raise your head and put your hand in the box, eyes boring into the old crone’s. you see something flash in her depthless eyes. you think of the calm before mother-storms, the stillness of the air before pounding rain.

it’s rage.

pain shoots through your hand. fire that burns and charrs and eats away at your flesh, consuming one layer of skin after another until you’re sure it reaches the bone below. you almost scream. instead, you bite your lip until metal-blood stains your tongue.

you will endure this pain. you will not let fear consume you — you have nothing to fear, you shall not die, not here. fear is the mind killer. pain is the mind killer. you will let it wash over you and face the eons of bene gesserit knowledge standing before you.

through gritted teeth, you ask:

“am i human enough, oh wise one?”

you were. otherwise you wouldn’t be here, years later, rotting in a harkonnen cell.

(there are things that have been kept a secret from you. you have been raised following your mother’s footsteps in the weirding way. the reverend mother denied you a place under her tutelage with harsh words and a harsher look. you’ve caught wind of her thoughts in shimmering fragments of dreams — what has jessica done?)

it will matter, in the end, that your mother decided to give your father a son. already, you’ve seen it, behind the web of your eyelids, the lone silhouette of your brother, blood of your blood, rising, rising.

he will gather them, the fremen, from the burning sands of arrakis, and rise, blade glinting under scorching sun. lisan al gaib, they already call him, hushed whispers lost in the shifting sands of dunes.

your hand falls to your womb, empty still.

they were scared, the bene gesserit. the atreides line was growing too powerful, too fast. you — the promised daughter, skilled in the way, with tongue and mind sharper than your blade — are to be bred and deliver the one.

but in came paul — beloved little mouse of a younger brother. too smart, too observant, too skilled, too much. your mother’s defiance, your mother’s love for your father led her to commit the unthinkable and defy the order.

it retaliated.

you’ve been betrayed. that, you’ve seen coming. so did your father. so did your mother. even your brother felt it, in his very bones, the low thrum of wrongness. something was bound to happen. something was bound to shake you to your very core.

something happened.

the harkonnens came. house atreides fell. you can still smell it, the stench of death, the bloodied sands beneath your feet as you struck and struck.

all must die, and so they did.

you feel it still, the blood coating your hands, your forearms, dripping from your blade, the old scar on your forearm burning righteous fury.

they caught you, in the end. you, who willingly put a target on your back, allowing your brother and mother’s quiet escape. you, beaten down, bloodied. grinning, voice warping the harkonnen rats’ perception.

“you will not see me as i am.”

the atreides have been set up. offering arrakis has been nothing but a convenient way for the emperor to get rid of your bloodline.

you scoff; in the quiet depths of your cell, your fingers dig crescent moons in your palms.

you’ve been taught to read behind veils upon veils of lies. the truthsayer suggested the eradication of your house. painted you a threat.

being able to breed the kwisatz haderach won’t protect you.

so here you are, eldest daughter of duke leto atreides and lady jessica, older sister to paul atreides. here you are, sitting with your back pressed up against the wall. cold seeps into your marrow, reaching bone. rage simmers low in your gut. you quell it. nurse it until it becomes a living beast eager to feast.

you will need it.

your body fails you. your sight is blurry, your hands tremble. they should not. duncan would have hit the back of your head had he been there. he isn’t. (dead.) breathe in. breathe out. focus what’s left of your attention on the too small bowl of food that’s been given to you, on the glass of water. empty, both of them.

poison isn’t a problem — not with your training, not with the constant shifting and turning of lethal molecules within you. there. prana bindu — precise alteration of the body’s vitals. you will bear your condition for a time, weakened, but alive.

you clench your fist and slam it against the wall. pain surges through you, burning through your joint. good. if fear is the mind killer, pain clears the fog clogging your brain.

here goes: you’re rotting in the cell of your hereditary enemy, malnourished and poisoned. you’ve heard the guards, their off handed comments when they thought you too drugged to understand. your cell is below an arena. you will need to fight. perhaps, they’ll pit you against your men. the atreides house, dying by its own hand. fitting.

you’re neck-deep in trouble.

the door slides open. two guards come in, all dressed in black. harkonnens. harkonnens everywhere, and you cannot do a damned thing as they pull you up, pushing you out of your cell. they’re laughing. those bastards are laughing.

one less atreides scum in the known universe — good riddance!

you will tear into them and rip out their spine with your teeth.

they drag you in a maze of hallways, each darker than the last. you’re ascending, a catabasis of twists and turns and sliding doors. there’s a low thrum in your gut. louder and louder with each step is a pulse. a chant. a name.

the guards press a blade in your hand and push you forward.

the door slides up. shadows part. you blink with a low hiss. light pours down on you, all-consuming, blinding. sands stretch before you, unnaturally white.

the arena.

thousands upon thousands of people gaze down at you. the voice surges forward, eons of your foremother speaking through you.

“you will not perceive me as i am.”

something trickles down your nose. blood. you’ve overdone it. the voice isn’t meant to be used against that many people, not for long.

you wipe it off.

it will have to hold for the time of this fight. the harkonnen won’t rest until the atreides are completely and utterly wiped out. deceit is your only chance at survival.

the thought makes your blood boil.

good thing the crowd is screaming for it. they're all screaming for it. a pulse. a chant. a name.

feyd-rautha.

there he is, strong arms spread wide, dual blades stained black, basking in the glorious aftermath of combat. at his feet, atreides soldiers. dead.

you unsheathe your blade, the dull metal grinding against its sheath.

the noise alone has him turning towards you, head tilting to the side. he’s assessing you, na-baron feyd-rautha harkonnen. he glances up. for a split second, you follow his gaze. above, looking down upon you, is baron vladimir harkonnen, gargantuan mass of flesh.

you want him to collapse. to watch as his bones break under the weight of monstrous grease. you make out the movement of his lips.

happy birthday, nephew.

he’s on you before you can react. your blade raises. steel meets steel. you clench your teeth. his strength surpasses yours. you won’t yield, not to him. but by god is the bastard strong. you’ve got your hands full with just parrying his blows, the force of them echoing in your very bones. your feet slide on the sand below. any more and you’ll lose your footing.

his blades meet yours, again and again, their serrated edge slicing the corrupt air of the arena. they slice through you, too. a vicious cut on your bare forearm has you reeling back, your blade and sheath raising to parry.

this is bad. there’s only so much you can deal with in your decrepit state. fighting to survive isn’t an option — you must kill or be killed.

you draw in a sharp breath.

watchful eyes bore down upon you. bene gesserit. the reverend mother herself has come to geidi prime.

something at your side — you let your guard down. there’s a flash, a metallic clang. feyd-rautha gazes down upon you, apex predator with your death written in the greedy sands of the arena. here, you’re precious prey.

rage grips you by the throat and has you baring your teeth.

there you are, blades intertwined with harkonnen scum, a breath away from his lips. they part in a slow, assessing grin. you feel more than you see his appraising gaze raking over you. you, unyielding, matching him blow for blow, blood drip drip dripping down. under the black sun of geidi prime, it, too, has turned a velvety black.

from above your crossed blades, you raise your head and meet his eyes — twin pools of dark, abysses made to consume you whole. time slows down. you want to drown in the marrow of him and feel the warmth of his flesh beneath yours, lost in rapturous agony. something settles in your gut, low and warm.

you call it fury.

you pivot out of the way and nick him, a thin cut splitting open the skin of his cheek. he laughs. slashes at you with deathly precision. you duck, squatting down, leg springing forth, slamming at the back of his knee. he falls. catches you by the ankle and drags you to him.

you snarl.

“let go.”

how utterly pathetic of you. his grip falters. you hear his blades fall to the ground. you twist, pivot until you’re straddling him, blade pressed against his throat.

there you have it. internal carotid, right below the sculpted edge of his jaw. five minutes until death. five minutes, with his lifeblood coating your hands, soaking your robes, sinking down to your skin beneath.

your hand cramps on the handle of your weapon, in a mockery of rigor mortis. nervous impulse. the tip of the blade pierces tender flesh, drawing a droplet of blood. you follow its path down the column of his flesh, until it reaches the edge of his collarbone.

his hands surges forward, seizing your forearm in a vice grip, yanking you towards him. you feel his breath on your lips with his next words.

“do it.”

his voice sends a shiver down your spine. low, gravelly, it calls for blood. if you don’t spill his, yours will be drawn. yet, you do not move, eyes riveted to his face, to the vicious impatience carved in his features. if you kill him, you’ll be hunted and put down like a dog.

he shifts under you, the nervous twitch of a beast untamed. even through the hard edges of his ritual armor, you can feel the raw power of him.

you feel his thumb trace the edge of an old scar, up, up your forearm, a flash of black teeth and then—

pain.

there’s something in your side, serrated, razor-sharp, twisting. your hand raises to your side. warmth trickles down your fingers. his hand wraps over yours, warm, blood a silky black against the porcelain of his skin.

he watches you, twisting the blade until yours fall to the ground, bloodied hand coming up to your cheek. you lean into it. welcome him, as his thumb smears blood across the edge of your parted lips.

“you fought well, atreides.”

he pulls out the blade.

you fall.

taglist: @kpopnstarwars @jaiuneamesolitaiire

#obticeo writes #dune #dune part two #feyd rautha #feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha x y/n #feyd rautha x you #@space boo you have inspired me i dedicate this to u #and the bald freak #gotta perpetuate the tradition

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teamatsumu · 3 months

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Hi! I was just wondering if you ever had any plans of making a part four nsfw for the alpha Sukuna series you have? It has me in suspense dkljsaldks

You activated the chip in my brain so i wrote this for you lol. I got so carried away 💀

warnings: swearing, suggestive content, mentions of sex, a/b/o typical vernacular

Imagine Alpha!Sukuna watching another Alpha try to court you.

He is the absolute first to know, because he smells the guy on you the second you step into the room. He is certain no one else can tell, since it’s so subtle, but his nose is sharper than today’s Alphas, and he can tell immediately. He feels himself bristle at the thought. How dare another Alpha, a human one at that, lay a hand on you?

He watches you even more closely than usual after that, especially when you are dolled up. He knows what that means. He’s not an idiot. You’re going on a date with some asshole who thinks he can give you what you need. Well, that dolt couldn’t be more wrong. You don’t need some mediocre Alpha to take care of you, you need him. You just don’t know it yet.

Deep down, Sukuna knows that the Alpha in him is growing restless day after day, watching you get closer to this unknown man you keep seeing. The man you keep allowing to court you. In his head, you already belong to him. You are his omega, even if you only look at him as a curse who takes over your friend’s body from time to time. None of that matters because at the end of the day, the only Alpha who is allowed to stake a claim on you is him.

The day you come back with another scent on your neck is the day Sukuna’s control snaps.

He eyes you from Yuuji’s cheek as you greet everyone and sit down in your seat, ready for class. He can almost see the scent as it lingers on your glands, masking your own sweet one with its heavy Alpha notes. Disgusting. Some other Alpha has tainted your pure omega smell. Someone who isn’t him.

That night, he takes over Yuuji’s body as the boy sleeps, trudging over to your room and pushing the door open. He doesn’t have the courtesy to knock (of course), and he only does so when he finds the door locked. Albeit he smacks an open palm against the door instead of rapping on it with his knuckles.

When you pull open the door just a crack and peek out, you see pink hair and black lines tattooed over your friend’s face, and realize your visitor is not Yuuji.

“Sukuna?” You pull the door further open, revealing more of your figure. Sleep shorts and a tank top. Sukuna almost hums in approval, but instead he feels his nose scrunch. His sensitive nose is still picking up on traces of an alpha scent. He feels his mouth twist in disgust.

“You let him fuck you?”

He sees your eyes widen and mouth drop open in shock. “What?”

“That Alpha you’ve been seeing.” He pushes himself into the room as he speaks, making you back away. He looks around your room. The sheets are ruffled, indicating you were already in bed. The rest of it is very clean.

“I-” You stutter over your words. Sukuna would’ve thought it was endearing if it weren’t for the context at hand. His blood is already boiling, and it is taking everything in him to not find this bastard and skin him alive.

“It’s none of your business.” You settle, avoiding eye contact with him. Sukuna raises an eyebrow.

“Oh?” He steps closer to you, watching you shuffle backward until your back hits a wall. “None of my business?”

He leans forward, hands still buried in his pockets, letting his nose come in contact with your bare scent gland. He feels you stiffen, takes in a deep whiff.

“You smell like Alpha.” He comments. “Been smelling like him all day. It still hasn’t gone away. He fucked you. Right, omega? Why else would you still smell like him?”

“We didn’t!” You sound panicked. “We just…. we did other stuff. He scented me.”

Sukuna lets out a breath against your skin. Feels the way you shiver. He presses closer until his body comes in contact with yours, reveling in the way you feel.

“He scented you?” His voice is low, rumbling, and he feels you fidget. He reaches a hand up, finding home on your hip before pushing up under your shirt to run over your bare waist. You shiver, but you don’t stop him. Your breath stutters. Sukuna grins.

“How did he do it? Like this?” And then he runs his tongue over your skin, licking a fat stripe right over your scent gland. He exhales on it, letting his overwhelming scent erase all traces of any other Alpha.

He hears your lips part as you sigh, arching into him hesitantly. He can almost hear the inner battle raging inside you. He knows the omega in you wants him, but your rational brain is holding you back.

“Or did he do it like this?” And then he bites, teeth sinking into delicate skin. Enough to sting, but not enough to break skin. He teeters dangerously close to mating you, trying to hold back the urge to do it. Not yet. Not like this. When he mates you, he wants his cock buried deep in your pussy. Wants to feel you cum and cry as he sinks his fangs into your enticing glands.

You moan then, the prettiest little sound, and Sukuna wants nothing more than to bend you over and take you right there and then. But a glimmer breaks his trance, pulling away just enough to eye the silver chain around your neck. It has a small pendant on it, heart shaped. Sukuna scoffs and reaches for it.

“This is what he gave you? Courting gift?” He thumbs at it. You nod hesitantly. Your breaths are still coming fast and shallow. Sukuna increases the pressure between his fingers. The chain snaps.

He pulls it off and dangles it in front of your eyes. Then, as you stare at it. He flings it away. He leans forward again, both hands gripping you tight, licking and nipping at your neck again, quicker this time, determined to scent you properly. You sigh at the feeling. The Alpha in him purrs.

“If I smell him on you again,” he grumbles. “I’m going to rip him to shreds. That’s a promise.” His hand runs up your back under your shirt, tracing your heated skin, coaxing you to arch into him more. “Got it?”

Your breath catches. “Yes.”

“Yes what?”

Sukuna can smell your arousal. He holds himself back, enjoying this tightrope you two were walking on. He’s still lapping hungrily over your neck, leaving little nips that will darken into marks by morning.

“Yes Alpha.”

He hums in approval, still licking and breathing on your skin. Today, he had been the only one in the room who caught another Alpha’s scent on you. But he is going to make sure that when you show up tomorrow, even a beta can tell you smell like him and him only.

You’re his omega. No one else’s.

#sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna smut #alpha sukuna #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk sukuna #a/b/o #a/b/o dynamics #omegaverse #a/b/o verse #alpha x omega #omega reader #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n

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lieutnt · 5 months

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I beg of thee when you have more ideas to keep up the trans Miguel agenda with the baby trapping if they contain it. Am also good without,your work is amazing. You have me hooked. 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

i wasn’t gonna do a part 2 but i had this idea so here we are

cw: baby trapping & monsterfucking

trans!miguel is all too aware of your animalistic tendencies when you transform - he’s observed you through his screens, watched as the lines between man and beast blur. he can’t help the way he rubs his thighs together, cunt growing slicker as you reign in the anomaly with such ferocity, sharp claws and even sharper teeth putting a quick end to the mission.

before you get back to hq you shift back (much to miguel’s chagrin), just finishing handing over the anomaly when miguel calls you to his office. you barely get through the doors before miguel’s on you, dragging and pushing you down on his seat so he can clamber on your lap, pushing your suits out of the way and sinking down on you. the adrenaline still coursing through your veins has you taking hold of his waist and bouncing him up and down, his tight wet heat sucking you in.

after pulling countless orgasms from miguel, despite his pleading, you pull out before your knot can lock you in place, instead cumming across his stomach. he collapses onto you feigning exhaustion, but he’s already planning in his head - if you won’t cum in him and give him what he wants, he knows someone who will.

it’s on another mission where your monster side is required. it’s over swiftly, and before you can transform back miguel joins you in the dimension, booting the anomaly through the portal and closing it. confusion and adrenaline make a dangerous mix, your body heaving as miguel stalks towards you. you can smell it, how soaked he is between his thighs, and when he pulls his suit down and bends over, all resistance snaps.

you’re on him like the animal you are, cock splitting him open as you fuck into him without hesitation, claws digging into his hips and teeth clamping where you can reach, staking your claim. by the time your knot starts to build miguel is desperately fucking himself back on you, begging you to breed him, knot him, fill his belly and it works, your hips snapping forward until your knot bullies its way into his slick cunt and locks you together, miguel’s eyes rolling back as he feels the sheer amount of cum that starts to fill him.

his dream comes true, as soon as your knot goes down you start fucking him again, mind completely overtaken by the need to breed the fertile little thing underneath you, more than happy to replace the cum that your thrusts push out of him. this time he really is exhausted, body trembling like a leaf when you pull out of him for the last time, skin already turning different shades of purple and blue from where you’ve gripped and bit him.

you aren’t happy with him when you transform back, you could’ve seriously hurt him, but miguel barely listens to any of your complaints, too busy floating through the clouds as you clean him up and take him back to hq, shuffling him to his private room where the second he hits the sheets he’s out like a light.

making your displeasure clear you avoid him the next few weeks. it's childish but it’s the only thing you can do to make sure you don’t snap at miguel. once he discovers he’s pregnant he finds you, giving you no choice but to speak to him when he hands over the positive pregnancy test. you’re sceptical but one deep inhale of his scent confirms it. anger curls in your gut but so does something else, a base instinct tucked away in your brain crawling its way to the front - the animal desire to show you can protect him and your growing brood, that you’re a suitable mate and can provide for him.

miguel’s never been more relieved when you reach forward to stroke across where his belly will eventually swell. you’ll forever be entwined with him now.

#miguel o'hara #trans!miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x male reader #male reader #top reader #top male reader #spiderverse #lieutnts writings

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literallydontknowdontcare · 6 months

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Don't Try Me

[FNAF Movie] Vanessa x Fem!Reader

Content/Warnings: angst (happy ending), smut (rough), annoyed top!Vanessa, bottom!femreader, established relationship, Vanessa wears a strap, Mike being scared of Foxy, Reader also being a security guard

a/n: this is my first time writing since years ago. Ignore the present/ past tense f ups, I can’t be bothered to fix it sorry </3

w/c: 1663

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You should have known not to tease Vanessa. From your hand brushing against hers when Mike wasn’t looking, to you bending over to ‘help’ with building a fort Abby wanted for the animatronics, it was all too obvious for Vanessa not to notice. It just so happened to be that she was intentionally teasing you as well by avoiding your advances.

“I’ll get the sheets for the roof”, Vanessa says, rolling over and standing up from her current position underneath the fort. You looked between her walking away and Mike who was currently eyeing the Fox animatronic in fear.

“I’ll help!”, you pipe up, deciding that saving Mike from killer robots wasn’t as good as possibly getting railed. As you walk in the dark room, you find Vanessa about to bend over to reach the sheets. “Need help officer?”, you practically purr in her ear, squeezing in-between Vanessa and the box shelves at the last second, making her grind against your ass. She sighs behind you, allowing her hand to drift down your back and onto your ass as you stand back up.

“You’re needy today”, she murmured, tilting your head upwards to meet her gaze. You pouted. “That’s what happens when you ignore your girlfriend and take the shifts where you know I’m free”, you say.

Vanessa rolled her eyes, stepping away from you and taking the sheets off your hands. “I don’t choose my shifts. You act as if I’d rather lock up drunken middle aged men then wake up in our bed”. She headed towards the door.

“Maybe those men would touch me more than you do”, you grumble in a soft tone so she can’t overhear. Unfortunately, your girlfriend was sharper than foxy’s hook, meaning she immediately whipped around and narrowed her eyes. “Would you like to repeat that?”, she said strictly. Knowing you were way out of line, you should have said nothing. But being deprived from any sort of sexual touch for a good week, you doubled down.

“I said”, you took a step forward, “Maybe the same drunken men you locked up tonight could find the time to touch me more often and better than you do”. Vanessas jaw clenched, her hand drifting down her stomach in an annoying attractive fashion to her radio, shutting off the person beginning to talk on the other line. For a good solid 10 seconds, it was completely silent. No annoying static of the police radio, no animatronics singing and dancing in the background, just you and your extremely pissed girlfriend in an almost pitch black room, listening to the sounds of each others rapid breathing.

Vanessa made the first move. She pushed you roughly against the shelves, her hands immediately reaching for your breasts underneath your shirt. You gasped out loud as she ripped open the buttons and pushed her face against the top of your breasts that threatened to spill out of your lace bra. She began sucking and biting the top of the soft flesh, distracting you from her hands that were now reaching to unclasp her belt and pull out something unexpected.

“Vanessa, I-“, you began, your head spinning from the quickness of it all. She removed herself from your breasts and began pinching your left nipple with one hand, the other hand still being mysteriously missing in the dark.

“What, isn’t this what you wanted?”, you could almost see the grin emitting from her cockiness. “I hope you didn’t expect me to pepper your pretty princess pussy with kisses, did you?”, she teased. You whimper at her question, a knot starting to grow in your stomach. She stopped squeezing your nipple and quickly pulled down your shorts, slapping your panties harshly, making you jump. “Answer me”, she demanded.

But you couldn’t. With what little light was left in the room, you simply stared at her through your eyelashes, your breasts rising and falling as you plead with your eyes.

She noticed. “Not good enough, is it”, she sighed, “So disappointing”. You widen your eyes, not because of her disappointment, but because of her hand finally returning from wherever it went. *Holy shit*

In the dim light you could just barely make out a large mushroom tip strap. You looked back up at Vanessa, her hand softly stroking it, her lips now almost touching yours, and a look that made you think she was about to swallow you whole.

“Panties down”, she said, one hand heading to rest on your throat whilst the other tapped on your thighs to spread them open. You blush, your senses heightened as all you could think, see, hear, touch and smell was Vanessa. You pried your purple laced panties off of you; to no ones surprise, they were soaked from your arousal, so they took a little effort to pry off.

If you could sense a smirk, you definitely were sensing one from Vanessa right now. The initial touch from her strap was soft, almost caring. She gently rubbed it along your folds, smiling at the noises it made when in contact with your dripping entrance. She began to slowly push the tip in, before taking it back out and slapping it roughly against your already puffy clit. You jump with a loud cry before Vanessa’s hand slaps over your mouth. It’s quiet again for a few seconds as you both listen for anyone realising how long you guys were taking. The music from Freddy started. Good.

She turned back around and narrowed her eyes. “Always whining, aren’t you?”

“You ask a lot of questions”, you blurt.

With that, she roughly shoves the whole strap inside. Your breath hitched as you clasped your hands at the back of Vanessa’s neck, pulling her neck closer to your mouth as an attempt to stop yourself from making any loud noises. She thrusted the strap in and out rapidly, her hands grasping your hips and digging her fingers in so hard you knew purple bruises would emerge. Your pussy clenched harshly around the length, making it harder for Vanessa to move. You were gasping for air at this point, your legs faltering with every movement. Vanessa moved her thumb to your clit and pressed down hard, making you cry out. “Slo- slow down”, you manage to get out. Her pace slows, before realising she was still mad at you, and she picked up the pace again.

The shelves behind you began to rattle as her pace increased and you were clinging to her waist like your life depended on it. You couldn’t silence your moans anymore; it just felt too good. “Nessy, fuck, I need to-“, you were cut off as she shoved two fingers into your mouth. “Wait”, she barked.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, your ability to think gone. Just as you thought you were about to lose it, she pulled out entirely before slamming back into your flooded pussy. Letting out a silent scream, you cum around her strap, scratching your nails down her clothed shirt. She let you ride out your high, slowing down her pace before pulling out to let you recover.

You flop your head beneath her neck, letting your breath get back to normal as Vanessa softly rubbed your back and hip bruises. She hadn’t really said much. She was the less talkative one of you two during sex; she preferred letting her body and facial expressions say what she needed to get across. But her not saying anything after was worrying you.

You lift up your head to her reaching for a towel on the shelf behind you. As she began to clean up your thighs and her hands, you decided to break the silence.

“Are we alright?”

Vanessa paused. “Hm?”

“Are we good? Are we okay? Is everything copacetic?”, you quote what she said to you when you first met.

The corner of her mouth twitched, though she threw the towel on the floor and began to fix her pants.

“I am trying, you know”, she says grimly. You tilt your head. “With the crime rate going up, and the shifts they are making me take, and.. all of ‘this”, she gestures to the door, referring to the animatronics, Mike and Abby. “Look, I’ll try and see if anyone can fill in for me. Alright?” She looked as if she were about to cry.

You wince. “Vanessa.. no”, you felt immensely guilty for making her angry just so you could have some attention.

“No?”

“I’m sorry”, you cup your hands around her face and she closes her eyes. “I know you’re exhausted. I shouldn’t have said what I said to make you act out. And even though I miss you, other people out there need someone like you. I can wait, I promise”, you lean in, gently kissing her cheek.

Vanessa swallows the lump in her throat. She hated crying. She hated this room. She hated what her father made her do. But she could never hate you.

“I love you. It’s just- I love you”, she says softly.

“I know”

She leans in to kiss you when all of a sudden: “VANESSA? Y/N? How’s it going with those sheets???”, Mikes voice rings from outside. In the distance, you could hear that the animatronics song had finished, and the stage was now playing disco music. Abby squealed with delight in the background.

“Yeah, Mike, we found em. Give us a second”, Vanessa called out.

You blushed as she helped you redress, fixing your hair and makeup so it looked like you didn’t go through a trainwreck. She smiled as you fixed her tie and picked up the sheets needed for the fort. As you dragged her to the door and opened it to find Mike squeezed in a corner, watching Foxy on the other side of the hallway with immense suspicion and fear, Vanessa made a mental note to remind her father that killing you wouldn’t be an option.

#fnaf vanessa x reader #vanessa shelly x reader #fnaf vanessa #vanessa shelly #vanny #fnaf mike #fnaf movie #five nights at freddys #vanessa monroe #fnaf x y/n

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thebubblesareevil · 1 year

Text

Family grows, it evolves…

Part 1, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

There was a new exhibit on Ancient Greece at the museum, and as the resident expert Diana was given free range of the exhibit. Normally this wouldn’t be an issue, normally the League doesn’t find a clone of one of its founding members and spend a, frankly, ridiculous amount of time deciding how to proceed.

Diana sighed as she looked at the large room filled with artifacts needing to be catalogued before display. She lamented not having the same speed as the flash for but a moment before getting to work. It was 5:00, if she wanted to get any sleep tonight, she needed to get to work.

She steadily made her way through stacks of paperwork, working with the efficiency that was drilled into her since birth. It had been hours since she began her work, and though she tired, she resolved to head home to get changed for the next day. It wasn’t until she made her way from the basement that she realized something was off. Doris was sitting at reception, though she should have left at 8:00, the sun was still high in the sky, not yet ready to make its decent.

“Calling it an early night, Diana?” Doris asked “Big day tomorrow! Finally setting up the new exhibit. I can’t wait to take the kids, they’re so excited to see it.” She said with a wide smile. Diana surveyed the desk, catching a glance the clock. There in bold numbers and as 7:00pm, she smiled as she replied.

“I finished things up sooner than planned, so I thought I’d head out for the night. I need to get dinner started before my guest arrives.” Doris’ face nearly split in two.

“A guest, is he handsome, oh how could you hold out on me Diana!?” She said excitedly “I need all the details!” Diana laughed.

“Nothing like that, my Grandfather decided to pop in for a surprise visit. I haven’t seen him in quite some time, so it’s a lovely surprise.” Doris nodded along.

“You’re a good grandkid. I miss my grandparents everyday, you never know how much time you’ve got.” She said with a sigh. “Have a good night!”

“All the time in the world.” She said to herself, checking her watch and grinning. It read 4:30 am, she yawned as she left, making her way back to her apartment.

Everything thing was silent when she arrived, though that was to be expected at this point. She wade her way to the kitchen passing by the figure on the couch.

“Would you like some tea? Do you drink at all?” She inquired.

“I am perfectly capable, though I rarely indulge.” He replied in a monotone voice, if she had been anyone else she like would not have caught the edge of sadness clinging to his voice. Diana set the kettle on the stove and made her way over to the couch.

“Something troubles you, something big enough to approach me after all these years.” Clockwork smiled “You’re much sharper than your father ever was” the smile dropped.

“You are aware of the multiverse.” He said, Diana nodded. “As the Master of time, I bear witness to each world, each time line. There exists a world where humans built a bridge to the Infinite Realms, creating a being both born and killed by the infinite.” Diana gave him her upmost attention. “Sometime ago I was tasked with the elimination of this creature, this child, to prevent the tragedy he would bring upon that world.” He smiled “I was never one to listen to orders though, and instead I set the boy on a path that would bring about great change… it had unexpected side effects.”

“What kind of side effects?” Diana asked, worried.

“He began to cling to me, seeking me out for advice. I even found him asleep in my clock tower more than once. I have admittedly come to see him as my grandson.” Clockwork have a soft smile “He reminded me so much of you when we first met.” He sighed “I am here to ask a favor, young Danny is approaching a crossroads. There are two possible paths his timeline might take, one where he lives of the rest of his years moving between living in dead, his truth hidden from those who wish him harm. However there is another path, one I fear is becoming more and more likely than the last.” Diana had never seen her grandfather look so old, his entire form shifting to match his tone.

“What is it? What is going to happen?” Clockwork looked at her with sad, tired eyes.

“He will be betrayed, from this betrayal he will suffer such agony that the Realms themselves will retaliate. Then he will sleep eternal, bound to the infinite. His world destroyed.” Diana gasped. She placed a hand over his,

“What do you need me to do?” She asked firmly.

“Should the worst come about, I intend to steal him away from that world. Cutting off its connection to the realms permanently. However he is a being of both life and death, he cannot neglect his human half. What I ask of you is this, that you allow this boy to stay here, with you. There is no one else I would trust with such a task.” Diana hesitated.

She was a warrior, trained for battle from birth. She knew nothing of caring for a child. She thought her grandfather intended for her assist him in battle but this…. She looked at her grandfather, his sad eyes resigned, as though he expected her to refuse.

“Very well, on one condition.”

“Anything my dear.” She smiled.

“You must visit more, when last we met I told you I needed time. You gave me that, now I ask once more for time, time spent together.” She nearly jumped as his form shifted to that of a child.

“Nothing would please me more.”

“And grandfather? Should the worst not pass, I would still like to meet tho cousin of mine.” Clockwork froze, before he practically melted.

“Of course.” His form shifted once more to that of a young adult. Diana smiled pulling her grandfather into a hug.

“Thank you.” He whispered and he was gone. The kettle screamed. Diana got ready for a long nights rest.

—————————

A week passed before she heard anything from her grandfather. It was to the night before the opening of her new exhibit and she expected everything to go as planned. Just as she was picking out what she was going to wear to the gala, the sound of cars outside her window stopped.

“What do you think? Red or black?” She asked as she turned around holding the two dresses. Her grandfather stood tall, a stern look on his face. Diana set down the dresses. “It happened, didn’t it?” Clockwork nodded. Making his way towards the living room he stopped by the couch. There, asleep on her couch was a young teen, not much older than some of her teammates protégés. He had pitch black hair and pale skin, with lightning scars crawling up his neck. He chest did not move.

“He’s not breathing!” She turned to her grandfather, but he appeared unbothered. He smiled, watching the boy sleep.

“As I said before, he is a being of both life and death, sometime pieces of one form bleed into the other.” He turned to Diana, “He needs his rest, as for your first question, the blue dress will suit you much better on this occasion.” Diana gave him a soft smile.

“Come, I shall make us some tea while you tell me more about my cousin.” Clockwork nodded, taking a moment to readjust the blanket around the teen, before heading to the kitchen.

——————-

When Danny woke, to the sound of people talking he had a horrid migraine. He did his best to ignore the pain as he tried to remember where he was. The last thing he remembered was a dream of his parents yelling and the GIW knocking down their door. He slowly sat up, looking around the room, every wall was covered in pictures. Danny slowly stood and made his way over to the pictures. They all took place over varied times, ranging from, at the earliest, the 1920s all the way to the 2000s. All of the featured the same woman, she remained unchanged even as those around her grew old.

He listen to the voices, one familiar, one not, as he made his way towards the source of the noise. When he opened the door he was greeted by the familiar face of Clockwork. Next to him was the woman from the photos just as unchanged.

“Good afternoon Danny, did you rest well?” Danny did his best to disguise his flinch at the sound, grinning at the old ghost.

“Just fine thanks, what….what exactly happened? Where are we?” Confusion dripping from his voice.

Clockwork looked Danny in the eye, what he said next nearly broke him.

“I’m so sorry, Danny.”

Danny’s legs almost gave out under him. “It happened didn’t it? They tried to turn me in, to the GIW. That wasn’t a dream.” The ancient stayed silent, Danny's eyes went wide. "Is Jazz okay!? She... she was upstairs... if they hurt her!" Clockwork stopped him.

"Your sister is fine, they were only there for you." Danny took a deep breath, trying to process everything.

"So what comes next? Where are we?" Clockwork looked at him with a deep sadness.

"We are in a world separate from your own, connected by the Infinite Realms. I saw the possibility of what was to come and made arrangements. Due to the crimes of your world against you, the Observants and myself decided the best course of action would be to remove you from your world, and cut the living off from the Infinite Realms entirely." Danny looked down, resigned to knowledge of what they planned to do to him. "As you know, as a half-ghost you must tend to both sides of your being." Clockwork turned to the woman, "Danny, this is my granddaughter, Princess Diana of Themascyra. She has agreed to have you stay here, with her." Danny frowned.

"Your granddaughter? But she's...uhh" he paused, not sure how to continue. Diana laughed.

"Alive? Yes, I do believe I am. I'm assuming my grandfather has neglected to explain his past life" Danny nodded "How much do you know of the stories Ancient Greece?"

"More than most I think, there are a lot of constellations named after the myths. That and it's hard to visit Pandora and NOT get an hour lecture on Greece" Diana's eyes went wide.

"You know Lady Pandora? How wonderful, I grew up hearing stories of her bravery!” She smiled “That being said, that will make things a bit easier. My mother is Hippolyta, her desire to have a daughter was so great that she molded me from sand, Zeus, king of the gods, used his power to give me life.” Danny blinked once, then twice.

“So…you’re a Demi-god? I don’t understand how that makes you Clockworks granddaughter.” Diana smiled. “I mean, I know Clockwork probably used to be Chronos, Jazz and I had a whole debate about that, but what does that have to do with Zeus?” Diana smiled patiently.

“Danny, Chronos is the primordial god of time, yes?” Danny nodded “Okay, well he is also the primordial form of Kronos, the father of Zeus, my father.” Danny froze, looking over to Clockwork who merely nodded, as though Danny’s brain was currently trying to shut down. After a moment the dots finally seemed to click.

“YOU ATE YOUR KIDS?!?!”

Clockwork sighed, Diana laughed, Danny had a mental breakdown.

It took close to five minutes for Clockwork to fully explain as Diana grinned in the background drinking her tea. Once he calmed down, Clockwork finished continued expaining.

"As for your ghostly half, I will be providing plenty of ectoplasm for you to eat as well as bringing you to the Infinite realms each week until you learn to create portals of your own." Danny nodded.

"What about school? Or hell, anything really. I don't exist in this world, how exactly do I go about doing anything?" Clockwork smiled.

"I called on the power of the ghost writer for any legal documents and I personally filed them in the proper time period to ensure you have what you need. I have given those to Diana" she nodded "as well as giving her legal custody of you. As far as the law is concerned you are her recently orphaned cousin. Son of her estranged Uncle Haiden and Aunt Penelope, who tragically died a few days ago." Clockwork smiled, rising from his seat.

"I'm afraid I have over stayed my welcome, I think it's best I take my leave and allow the two of you time to acquaint yourselves better." Danny stopped Clockwork, giving him a hug he whispered.

"Thank you." Clockwork gently carded his fingers through his hair before stepping back.

"If either of you need anything, just ask." and he was gone. Suddenly there was an influx of noise coming from outside, just enough to tell them that the world outside was moving once more.

Danny stood awkwardly by the chair their grandfather was occupying.

"You know, I don't bite." Diana said, trying to break the ice.

"I do." Danny replied on reflex, before covering his mouth. He looked at Diana, she looked back before they both burst out in peals of laughter.

"This is so weird, what even is my life?" Diana wiped a tear from her eye.

"Well, considering one of my teammates dresses up as a bat and beats up criminals, while another talks to fish, I think it's safe to say neither of our lives can be considered normal." Danny broke out in another fit of laughter.

"No shit?" he asked. Diana lifted a single brow at the term.

"No shit."

"What kind of team are you on exactly? Extreme cosplaying? Underwater battle royale?" Diana smirked.

"How about we get you some food and I tell you all about it?"

Danny smiled "Sounds like a plan."

@a-salty-sal@impulsiveasshole@meira-3919@alcorbearson@cute6troll@samgirl98@skulld3mort-1fan@addie-lover-of-stories@amercurio@chronicallyonline-fandomwh0r3 @heirxofxtime @gin2212 @thegatorsgoose@wanderer-of-worlds@terzatheunderscorerima@bright-shade@satanicrutialspecialist@mur-ururu@birdie-24-05@ascetic-orange@cyber-geist@thatrandomsarahchick

#ho boy definitely cross posting #diana of themiscyra #diana prince #danny phantom #dc x dp #clockwork #its going on ao3 #no ships right now #maybe later maybe not #is there an easier way to make a tag list?!#dp demi-god au

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trentlife · 18 days

Text

࿐ ˚ . ✦ JUDE BELLINGHAM ࿐ ˚ . ✦

𝓢𝓤𝓜𝓜𝓔𝓡 𝓛𝓞𝓥𝓔

𝒮𝒰𝑀𝑀𝒜𝑅𝒴: speculations of you and jude "dating" have been going around for a few months, but does one summer trip to mykonos change that?

𝒯𝒴𝒫𝐸: AU

𝒲𝒜𝑅𝒩𝐼𝒩𝒢𝒮: fluff but mostly none

*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･'(*ﾟ▽ﾟ*)'･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*

yourusername

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liked by annita , masonmount and 661,294 others

yourusername sunset girl 🌤️

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judebellingham

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liked by tobybishay and 2,834,293 others

judebellingham dress code... white

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tobybishay what a guy

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madders 🫡

realmadridfan hala madrid jude

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user3 isn't y/n there to?

yourusername

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liked by judebellingham, trentarnold66 and 913,193 others

yourusername out for dins ☁️☁️☁️☁️

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mollymae obsessed 🤍🤍🤍

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noahohio

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noahohio someone toes ruined the last picture

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yourusername the caption???😒😒😒

jobebellingham just missing me

↳ noahohio yourusername i did warn you 🤷🏾‍♂️

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judebellinghamnews it was expected ? 🥲

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yourusername

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liked by yourbsf, aurelientchm and 1,283,597 others

yourusername boat day with my peoples <3

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judeswife JUDE FINALLY!!!!

judebellingham let's not forget you fell off that paddle board within 2 minutes of being on it

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camavinga was going to say surprised you didn't fall in then i seen jude's comment...

judebellingham

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liked by vinijr, szoboszlaidominik and 2,245,953 others

judebellingham bts 🫶🏾

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erling.haaland my guy

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judeslover GUYSSSSSS??!!

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yourusername

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judebellingham

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liked by yourusername, trentarnold66 and 2,496,257 others

judebellingham ma girl 🎶

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trentarnold66 🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽

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bukayosaka87 love.

࿐ ˚ . ✦ THE END ࿐ ˚ . ✦

thank you for interacting & reading this, please leave in my inbox any feedback and if you would like this to be carried on.

#jude bellingham #jude bellingham imagines #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham fics #real madrid #explore #explorepage #judebellingham stories #jude bellingham au #jude bellingham x you

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dulcesiabits · 2 months

Text

love me like a bruise.

summary: the only way to know what mhin tastes like is through leander.

notes: 1.5k words, author's notes, mildly suggestive content (mhin and reader implied to be sleeping together), jealousy, alcohol consumption (reader might be drunk and making very bad decisions), very complicated relationships (mhin and leander were once a thing, leander taunts you about mhin, mhin has emotional hangups etc)

“They’ve never even kissed you, have they?”

It’s a low, whispered comment from Leander, one you can barely hear over the sound of raucous laughter and jeering voices crowding the Wet Wick. But your hands tighten around your mug, and you hunch over your murky drink, your reflection peering back at you from the depths.

Leander, elbows pressed lightly on the wooden counter, dips his head in sympathy. “I’m right, aren’t I?”

“It’s none of your business,” you say thinly, but your denial is an answer of itself, and his smile– his damned slippery smile, as repugnant as a slimy fish pulled from the river– only grows.

“I didn’t even say their name,” he says mildly.

“Shut up.”

Leander clicks his tongue, raising a hand to press on your shoulder. It’s a gentle, insistent pressure, but it roots you to your seat. “I’m just worried about you. I told you, right? That they’re not someone you can trust.”

“I don’t need you to warn me. I can take care of myself,” you say.

“I know, I know. I just want to look out after you.”

“I don’t need your concern.”

Leander tilts his head, shadows falling across his face. “If you don’t want me to be concerned, then you shouldn’t come into my bar, looking miserable. Then I wouldn’t worry so much.”

In response, you jerk his hand off your shoulder. Leander lets it fall, watching as you pick up your drink and swallow, one long bitter gulp, before slamming it back down on the table.

“It’s empty. Refill, please, bartender,” you say pointedly.

“As you wish,” he says, picking it up and disappearing down the corner.

You watch the crush of bodies around you, lovers intoxicated on Leander’s shitty drinks curled around each other like cats, friends throwing down cards and chips on damp tables, all cast in a dim green sheen from the hanging lights.

You’re the only one here alone. Maybe if Ais or Vere or even Kuras were around tonight, you wouldn’t need to drink to feel like you also had someone you belonged to.

There is one person that you particularly want to be by your side, who would chase away all your bitter feelings, but you don’t know if they feel the same. Because, gods, Leander is right. They’re the one person you really want to be by your side, and the one person farthest from reach.

Mhin. Your partner, in more ways than one. Your business partner, of course. The two of you get along particularly well in that regard, scouring the streets of Eridia for information. But it’s also easy to slip into their bed every night, to brush their silver hair across the pillow, to cup their reddening face. But they’re always gone in the morning. They would let you hold them, but never any further than that.

The first time you tried to kiss them, they cupped their hand around your mouth, eyes like flint. “Don’t.” And so you had to make do with biting their neck, teeth sinking sharper than a kiss, running a thumb over the marks which would fade in time.

You never tried to kiss them again, even though their plump lips and the kissable mole next to the corner of their mouth was irresistible.

It’s funny, in all honesty. How they spurned you from holding their hand on the streets, flinching away like an alley cat, but they never refused your touch at night. It was a line you weren’t allowed to cross, the message as clear as day: you could desire them, but you couldn’t love them.

And so you’re stuck, in a relationship of push and pull. How far are you allowed to go? What did it mean, to Mhin, for the two of you to be together?

As if summoned by your thoughts, someone slinks through the half open-door like a dream. It’s Mhin. They haven’t seen you yet, so you take a few moments to observe them, the way they dodge effortlessly between stumbling bodies, hood drawn tight over their face.

Cute. They’re cute, and you will never meet a person as beautiful as them again.

A drink clunks down in front of you, heavy with foam. Leander puts his hand on your shoulder, pulling you back to face him. He’s still smiling, but there’s an edge to it now. He leans closer, an intimate gesture.

“They’re cute, I know,” he whispers, his breath fogging your ear. “A good kisser, too. I didn’t expect it, the first time we were together.”

Before you know what you’re doing, your hands are grasping his lapels, and you’re yanking him closer to you. What sort of expression are you making? Your eyes are wavering, hazy, and your teeth are bared in a snarl. The alcohol is pounding through your head. “Shut up, Leander.”

You don’t care. You don’t care if Mhin has been with other people. So have you. It’s none of your business. That’s not what your relationship is. Mhin has drawn a firm line. You know where you stand in their life.

“Do you want to know?” Leander whispers. “What they taste like?” His eyes, dark and heavy, hover over your lips.

You kiss him. But it’s not a kiss, because you are all lips and teeth, and Leander is pliant underneath you as you rip his mouth apart, like a waiting prey animal. There’s the taste of cheap ale, and not much else as you devour him. You tug his lower lip between your teeth, biting hard enough to break skin. He gasps as you pull back, blood beading along his lip.

“Wow,” he says wonderingly, drawing one thumb to wipe along his lip, licking at his own blood. “You’re wilder than I expected.”

You’re panting as you wipe your hand across your mouth. Is this anything like what happened when Mhin and Leander kissed? Did they kiss him like this? Or did he kiss them? “Shut up. I’m never doing this again.”

Leander jerks a thumb behind you, and you whirl to see Mhin, with a hardened expression, watching the two of you. They meet your eyes, and duck their head, turning towards the exit. You stumble out of your seat.

“I’ll see you soon,” Leander calls after you, but you ignore him as you slam past complaining patrons and out the door, the cool night air whipping you in the face after the stale warmth of the Wet Wick.

Where is Mhin? What are they thinking? Did they see? How much did they see?

There’s a pale hand wrapping around your wrist, and the alcohol makes your steps clumsy and head fuzzy as someone drags you to a nearby alley, slamming you against the rough brick wall. Mhin. It’s Mhin, and their eyes are as sharp as a blade against your neck.

“What were you thinking?” they hiss.

“What?” you say.

“Kissing him! Kissing Leander!” they say again. They still have a hold on your wrist, and their grip is bruising.

“Why not?” you say. “What does it matter who I kiss? It’s not like we have that sort of relationship, right?”

They reel back as if you’ve slapped them, dropping your hand. You almost miss their touch. You wonder if it’ll leave a mark in the morning, just like a hickey. “Leander is… not someone you can trust,” they say.

“Funny. He said that about you, too. Mhin… why do you care so much?” Now you’re stepping towards them, and they move backwards slowly with each step you take, right until they’re the one backed against the wall. You lean in so close you can see the sweat beading along their cheek, the faint scent of iron and flesh. “Who were you jealous of?”

“What?”

“Who were you more jealous of?” you whisper into their ear, sensing how Mhin tenses beneath you, their heart racing like a trapped animal. “Me, or Leander? I mean, you won’t kiss me, but you’ll kiss him. How am I supposed to understand that?”

They shove you, hard, and you almost trip over your own feet before they grab you hastily, pulling you upright.

“You’re drunk,” they spit out. But there’s something raw in their eyes, fragile. “Go home. You don’t even know what you’re saying right now.”

They’re holding onto your elbow, gently guiding you back to the entrance of the Wet Wick. Why are they holding you like this? It’s so unfair. They should just leave you drunk in the alleyway, not take care of you like they worry over what happens to you. Neither of you speak, and they pull open the door for you.

“Leander will at least help you to your bed,” they mutter to themself, as if you aren’t right there. “So it should be fine as long as he can see you… And you’ll be around people…”

“Mhin,” you whisper, and they glance at you, and down at your lips as your mouth moves. “Will you kiss me?”

They close their eyes, lips pressed tight, as if they’re making a wish. You can’t read their expression anymore as they push you through the door. “Just go home.”

The door shuts behind you like a tomb, and you’re enveloped in the noisy, warm, damp atmosphere of the bar again. You press your thumb against your bottom lip, chasing the lingering taste of your drunken kiss. Maybe if you close your eyes, you can find Mhin’s taste there.

#liya writes #touchstarved #mhin #touchstarved game #touchstarved x reader #mhin x reader #touchstarved mhin #sorry for this one guys... my mental illness really jumped out #gay friend groups CANNOT be normal fr

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random-thot-generator · 2 months

Text

Better Not to Know

KYLE GAZ GARRICK x FEM READER

Summary: A chance encounter with a handsome stranger in a night club leaves you longing for more.

Warnings/Tags: Explicit language, explicit sexual content, unprotected P in V - fr tho wrap it up ya filthy animals, random hook-up sex, breeding kink?- hmm... yeah, fem breeding kink, a moody touch of angst, some pining, my usual brand of smut, only half-assed proofread- embrace the imperfections, no use of Y/N

(Notes: Just another smut purge with pretty boy Gaz, along with some angst added in for @tiredmetalenthusiast . I didn't forget, I just get easily distracted. Hope you like!)

banners & dividers by: @saradika-graphics

Chaotic, strobing lights and throbbing, hypnotic bass. Dim shadows writhing en masse on the dance floor, a dense forest of waving arms and swaying bodies. There is heat and sweat and sex layered thick in the oppressive air with just a hint of danger to heighten alcohol-dulled senses.

The danger you're seeking lurks at a corner cocktail table on the outskirts of the dance floor. He's somehow managed to sprawl with natural grace over the unwieldy, tall chair, lounging like a king on a throne. One heel is hooked on a rung, the other resting on the floor, his body one long, continuous masculine line that pulls the eye up to a face that's both wicked and angelic. His smile is pure sin, his dark eyes appreciative and knowing.

Oh, yes...

This is what you came here for tonight. To hell with the drinks and dancing and your girls' night out. This is what you really need. This man, this demigod currently eye-fucking you from across the room. A coy smile curls your painted lips as the two of you lock eyes.

Ten minutes later, you're pressed up against the graffitied partition of a bathroom stall, legs wrapped around his surging hips, whimpering as he snaps and grinds them with brutal precision. Your fingers glide over dark skin sheened with sweat, hungry mouth seeking the hot cavern of his as he spears you to the wall with a particularly hard thrust. The rhythmic clink of his belt catches your ear, a lewd accompaniment to your gasping breaths and the constant slap-slap of flesh on flesh. It debaucherous and filthy and you can't get enough.

He stares into your eyes when he tells you to touch yourself, pinning you with a smoldering look that has your cunt clenching in response. Nostrils flare and teeth grit, his strokes growing sharper, deeper, more unhinged with each passing second. He's fucking you with feral abandon, a wild light flashing in his eyes as he nears his release. He's growling, gnashing his teeth, mouth hovering at your neck as he fights the primal urge to bite, to mark, to claim.

"This is mine. My pussy," he snarls at your ear, and holy fuck! That possessive, dark tone in his voice sends your mind reeling, turning you into a desperate, needy, grasping thing. Speaking coherently at this point is out of the question, but you nod your confirmation with dazed enthusiasm. Hell yes, this is his pussy. He can claim it and any bloody thing else he wants, just so long as he doesn't stop fucking you.

"Come for me," he demands in a low, guttural voice, and you do. God help you, you do, like a bitch coming to heel. "Fuck, that's it, pet. Just like that. Bloody fuck—"

The rest of his words catch in his throat, and with one last violent thrust he stills, his entire body tensing, muscles trembling with the strain as his fingers clamp onto your ass and drive you down onto his cock, holding you in place as he empties himself inside you. His cock pulses hard enough to make you moan at the feel of it, your eyes rolling back in your head. You know it's bad form to not use a condom, dead stupid of you both, to be honest, yet you can't deny the truth.

You wanted him this way, raw and real and messy. It's insane, pure unadulterated nonsense, but you relish the feel of his cum inside you. You'll regret this decision come morning when you're slinking into the chemist's shop for a Plan B pill before popping into the clinic to get tested. Right now, though, it's all you can do not to purr in decadent satisfaction.

His kisses are errant, artless things landing haphazardly across your collarbone, your earlobe, your cheek. His lips then cover yours, his tongue unfurling in your mouth to slide over yours in a sensual, intimate coupling, and something inside you blooms warm then spreads out to all your extremities. His nose bumps yours in the sweetest way, and you're enamored with him, just like that.

The bathroom door opens, noise flooding into the quiet space between you. Two drunk girls dawdle at the sink, comparing notes on the blokes they've chatted up, deciding which ones they'll be taking home later. His brown eyes sparkle with barely contained mirth, lips quivering as he holds in his laughter. He's so bloody beautiful. You drop your head to his shoulder, unable to look at him any longer without saying something stupid like, "Come home with me."

You bite your tongue and wait.

The sink runs, the hand dryer blasts, and then the two birds are walking out, leaving the lingering scent of cheap body spray and pink hand soap in the close, heated air. The tap drips, his belt buckle jingles, and the spell is broken. He sighs, placing a chaste peck on your lips, his hands giving your hips a gentle squeeze.

Time's up.

Legs sliding down his muscled flanks, you lock your shaking knees to support you, inner thighs quivering. His cum is a tangible reminder of his claim on your body, as much as the smell of his cologne and sweat on your skin, as much as that poignant, sharp ache in your battered cervix. He fucked you hard and he fucked you well and he made certain that you'd remember him for days to come. What more could you ask of a man like him?

"Ya alright, pet?" he murmurs, his voice so deep and smooth and warm that it raises the fine hairs all over your body. The man is sex personified, a carnal feast that's left you sated but still craving more. You've never been with anyone like him, and it scares you a bit, the effect that he has on you. You were right about him; he's dangerous.

You hum in the affirmative and smile, suddenly feeling shy and awkward. You lower your lashes to hide your confusion, too flustered to speak. You can only imagine what sort of goofy, cock-dumb expression you're wearing. His sigh of satisfaction gusts over your face, the backs of his long fingers brushing over your cheekbone. "So lovely," he mutters, like an inner thought spoken aloud.

Silly cow that you are, his words make your heart flutter.

"I'm fine. More than fine," you finally answer.

You chance a glimpse up into deep brown eyes with striations of amber and copper that catch the dim light. Your gaze drinks him in, flickering over his long, curling lashes and wing-like raven brows. You're melting at the sight of the most sensuous mouth you've ever seen on a man, not to mention a smile so brilliant, it turns you inside out and dumps your heart on the floor. It's only the scar beneath his left eye that detracts from his ethereal, masculine beauty, that proves that he is, in fact, a mere mortal.

"Perfection," you whisper, skimming your thumb over the scar. Your meaning goes for both the man and the sex, but he can take it however he likes.

He fumbles at the latch and opens the stall door, keeping a hand at your lower back as you toddle out on coltish legs. You drift to the mirror to see what the damage is, oddly proud about the mess he's made of you. You swipe the mascara from beneath your eyes and dab away the smear of lipstick at the corner of your mouth. Your hair's a bit of a tangle, but who's going to notice or care at this late stage of the evening?

A tremulous smile appears on your face when he steps in behind you, large hands curling 'round your hips as he presses his full length against your back. His warmth seeps through the thin material of your dress, his mouth hot and wet as it skates up the column of your throat. "You were bloody amazing, love," he breathes at your ear, chuckling, pleased, when you shiver. He gives your bum a light smack that turns into a protracted, possessive squeeze. "Love your arse," he mumbles to himself, then gives his head a shake, stepping away. "I'll, uh, see ya around, yeah?"

"Sure," you husk out, knowing it's all a lie. These soft words and kind glances are nothing more than routine hook-up etiquette— always try to part ways on friendly terms. You know this role by heart, have played out this scenario so many times that you can recite all the inane pleasantries in your sleep.

Only this time, you wish the words were true.

His eyes meet yours in the mirror, his weight shifting between his feet, then he winks and stuns you with another one of those mega-watt smiles. Stepping to the door, he takes hold of the handle but then pauses, his eyes drifting over you one last time. He seems on the verge of saying something, but his beautiful mouth presses into a thin line, the corners turned down. He takes in a long, slow breath then heaves it out with a wistful sigh. "Take care, love."

"You, too."

You offer up a brave smile and hold up a hand in farewell, though a pang of disappointment rings hollow inside your chest as you watch him step through the door and disappear. The racket from the club pours into the room like dirty flood water, and the sudden urge to go after him has you shuffling your feet. Then, with a pneumatic hiss of the closing door, the obnoxious noise is muffled again to a dull and distant roar, and your reason returns.

How pathetic would you have looked, chasing after him like some clingy, lovesick girl. Your fingers tighten on the edge of the sink as you peer into the mirror at your reflection. You're surprised by your forlorn expression and realize you feel a little sad now that he's gone.

Once you return to your seat, you ignore the chatter of your drunk friends, instead panning your eyes over the crowd. You're hoping to spot his familiar silhouette among the anonymous bodies but can't find him, again. He must have left, his mission for the night now complete, you think with a touch of bitterness. No point in sticking around, right?

You fancy that you could pretend he was just a drunken fever dream, nothing more than a figment of your inebriated imagination, if not for the dull ache that still resides deep in your core. Oh, he was real, alright, as real as his cum in your panties and the sore throb of your bruised cunt. You know in your heart of hearts that it will take weeks, maybe even months for his memory to fade. The thought is depressing.

"Think I'm gonna call it a night, ladies," you tell the bleary-eyed trio seated around the table.

Your friends fuss and protest, trying their best to coax you into one more drink or at least another dance, but they're too drunk to really see the state of you. If they were just a little bit sober, it would be more than obvious why you're so set on leaving; you're completely fucked out, decimated, ruined. You hug each of them good night and promise to text the group chat when you arrive home.

Cold air smacks you in the face when you step out of the club. You inhale a sharp, icy breath, fog condensing in front of your eyes as you release it. You can feel the chill wind seeping through the seams of your coat, feel how it settles deep into the marrow of your bones. You suddenly feel achy and tired and near desperate for the warm safety of your own bed.

A glance up and down the sidewalk reveals the lack of waiting taxis, so you pull out your phone and order an Uber, cursing the wait. Huddling deeper inside your coat, your let your thoughts drift back to that brief but memorable encounter in the loo. For once, you regret not getting a bloke's number, and now you can't help but wonder if that's why he paused before leaving. Had he wanted you to ask him for it?

Unfortunately, you'll probably never know.

It's probably for the best, you tell yourself. A handsome bloke like him would undoubtedly complicate your life. He's the type of man that makes a sane, independent woman want to bake cakes and make babies. He is dangerous. You knew it when you first saw him, and now he's proven it to you. Already the 'what-ifs' are rattling about inside your tired brain. It's a good thing he left when he did, otherwise...

Yeah, you're definitely better off not knowing.

Your phone chimes, notifying you that your Uber has arrived, a faded red hatchback pulling up to the curb seconds later. You check the driver's ID then climb into the backseat, sinking back into the cushions as the car pulls back into the light flow of traffic. It irritates you that you still feel that little inkling of sadness. It's such a haunted, lonely feeling.

Damn, you think, staring blindly out of the window. I wish I'd asked for his name.

part 2

#kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle garrick x reader #cod gaz x reader #gaz x reader #gaz smut #cod gaz smut #cod smut #cod mw2 #cod mw3

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azsazz · 1 year

Text

You Keep Me Sharp and Test My Worth in Blood

Vampire!Azriel x Reader

Summary: Azriel's turned you into a vampire and brought you an offering.

Warnings: Blood, gore.

Word Count: 2,229

Notes: Idk about this one but...here it is 🤷🏼‍♀️

_________________________________________

A groan forces itself from your lips when you wake.

Your head is pounding, mouth throbbing like you’ve tried to chew through the cobblestones on the long path flanking the Sidra, and everything hurts.

Your one saving grace is that it’s night. No sunlight to pour through the curtains, and as you blink your eyes open in a slow gathering of your surroundings, you realize you’re not entirely sure if you’d be able to recognize if it were daytime, with the thick velvet draped curtains hanging from ceiling to floor.

But there are no faelights blaring down at you, only soft, tastefully placed ones throughout the room, casting its entirety in soothing, buttery light.

Sitting up, you brace a hand against the bare wooden ground beneath you. It’s so cold that you can’t feel your fingertips, your body numb. A stroke of dizziness strikes your already tender head and it takes a few forceful blinks to right your doubling vision.

You’re in the middle of a foyer, but it isn’t one that you recognize. Faded paintings line the walls, their once vibrant colors yellowed and fraying, but there doesn’t seem to be a single speck of dust on the intricately crafted onyx frames.

The furniture is just as deep, drinking in the light like a void. Velvety couches cloaked in a cavernous navy, looking so rich and untouched, as if no one’s ever sat on them, border a hearth, its fire so large the flames seem to lash out at you as if to caress you with its warmth, licking up the sides of the dark stone.

Your stomach churns at the slight movement, aching for food, but the thought of biting into something with how tender your mouth is sounds like the last thing you want to do.

Running your tongue around your dry mouth, you count your teeth, because the only explanation as to why everything is so painful is if you had been hit or hurt your jaw in any way. The last thing you remember was locking lips with a very handsome–

You jolt as your tongue comes into contact with something sharp. You hiss, tasting blood immediately, thick and rich, and you lick over the area again, tentatively this time. You stiffen in your spot, and despite the large fire in the hearth, the room grows cold.

Your teeth are still there, you note, but now…now they’re longer, sharper, as if tearing into a delicious steak would be much easier, although you’re not sure if your stomach is screaming at you to bite into a raw piece of meat, or something not cooked at all, but something pulsing with life…

“You’re awake,” a soft voice startles you. You spin around to face whoever has arrived so sneakily behind you while you were preoccupied, and gasp in horror at the view before you.

He’s a handsome male, the sight of him nearly taking your breath away. His dark hair is loose around his face, disheveled as if he’s been in a fight of his own. He kneels before you. His golden eyes aren’t full of life like the sun, but dull like the coin you’d thrown into the Sidra after making a wish…

He certainly looks like your wish come true.

But that’s not why you had made that terrified noise. It’s what lies in front of him that has a scream burning the back of your dry throat, daring to rip from your mouth in fear.

A male lies on the wooden floor, gurgling and gasping, clawing at the ground for your help.

His green eyes are frantic, begging, pleading, one hand clutched to his crimson painted throat, the other trying to leverage himself towards you, as if you might be able to save him from the male perched eagerly at his back.

You watch, frozen, as blood sprays onto the rich flooring as he tries to speak, and the sharp tang of his metallic blood has your gaze zeroing in on the wound. Your stomach screeches and your pupils dilate, lips parting without your permission to take a deeper inhale of the abundant, tinny scent. It sparks something within you, and you cringe away from the male as he reaches for you, fear-filled eyes begging for help.

The man’s eyes widen and your breath catches in your throat, his hands freezing as he catches sight of your elongated canines.

Flickering your gaze from the helpless male between you and the one behind him, a predatory gleam in his wild, golden gaze, the words slip as the horror of the situation catches up to you.

“What have you done?”

He blinks once, twice, and that wild predatory look seeps away as his gaze turns on you in a curious manner. He cock his head to the side, brows twitching as if to pull into a look of confusion. It would be cute if it weren’t for the fresh blood on his hands and the man fighting for his life at the both of your feet.

“I got him for you.”

Your mouth parts in horror and you glance down at the male struggling for air. The sound is jarring, his chokes and gurgles ringing loudly throughout the room. It’s the only noise you notice in the house, or maybe it’s the only one you can focus on at the moment.

You shove yourself away at his words. Something about the way he’s looking eagerly at you, eyes flickering with playful hunger as his gaze drifts down to the male, is throwing you. The male’s arms flail, spraying blood everywhere, and you watch how the dark haired male’s tongue peeks out from the corner of his mouth to lap up a drop.

His body shudders with excitement while yours shakes with fear.

“For me? What do you mean?” Your voice is unsteady, fingers curling against the smooth flooring with unease.

Those gold eyes settle on you again but this time they seem to go soft. He looks like he wants to reach out to you, but you keep slowly trying to back away, and his unnatural stillness is unnerving.

“You need to eat,” he urges, shoving the male closer to you. He slides through his own pool of blood, twisting and choking as he tries to fight off the male’s hands on him. The speed at which it happens is nearly too quick for you to follow and the crimson puddle moves like a wave and you can’t scramble back fast enough, the fabric of your skirts drinking up the liquid.

Your stomach roils.

“Eat?” You question dazed, like all of this is finally catching up to you. The gore, the blood, the handsome male, your surroundings. Where even are you?

Your stomach growls in response to his words, agreeing with the strange male across from you.

“Yeah,” you nod, and he smiles. “Eat. There’s this place down in the Rainbow that’s fantastic. They have my favorite–”

His face turns stony and you make a choked noise as your words cut off on their own. You turn frantic, trying to force the sentence from your mouth, any words, but your tongue won’t let you. It’s as if you’ve suddenly gone mute.

“No,” the male with the dark gaze stares down at you. His aura is no longer curious and playful, but swims around him like dark shadows. Fury ripples through the room making the flames in the fireplace flicker. “You will feed here,” he nods at the nearly dead male at his feet, “From him.”

“From…” You trail off, looking again to the gravely wounded male on the floor. His movements are sluggish now, and he’s become much quieter, allowing your screaming thoughts the attention they were yearning for. His fingers are clamped around the mottled wound at his neck once more, but you can tell he’s fading fast.

The deep umber of the male’s gaze when you look back at him is startling. It makes you nervous to have his rapt attention solely on you, his deep voice growling demands when you don’t even know his name.

“Azriel.”

You flinch. “What?”

“You were wondering my name. My name is Azriel.”

Azriel. You mouth his name and his smile twists as he watches you taste it on your lips. The motion reveals a flash of fangs and you're stunned for a moment as they gleam in the firelight, sharp and white.

“Go on,” he urges, and like this, with that soft smile and sparkling eyes he looks like he had last night, the look on his face stirring your memories of how handsome he looked with the moon shining down on him. He was quite charming– “While it’s still fresh.”

The fluttering feeling in your stomach fizzles out when you realize he’s gesturing to the male at your feet. Azriel’s fingers are covered in his blood, playing with the warm puddle of red at his feet before he brings them up to his mouth, licking the remnants of crimson from his scarred flesh.

“Unless you would prefer I feed you, my Lady.”

My Lady?

Feed you?

“You want me to eat him?” you ask incredulously, staring at him in horror.

Azriel only laughs, and it cuts through the seriousness of the situation like a blade through butter. It makes your heart flutter in your chest and if there wasn’t a male bleeding out between the two of you you might like to move closer, taste that laugh on your tongue.

His nostrils flare and his eyes darken like he knows your exact thoughts.

“Not eat him, sweetheart. You’re going to drink his blood.”

“Drink his blood,” you echo, assessing the male on the ground. With both you and Azriel quiet you can actually pick up on the slowing of his heart. The spicy tang of his blood does smell incredible, and if Azriel had looked that good only licking the red from his hands, how might he look if he–

In a flash he’s in front of you, warm hand pressed to the curve of your jaw and drawing you into a feverish kiss. You gasp against his lips, hand snapping up to clutch at his wrist because he’d startled you, but you quickly melt into him, pushing even further up onto your knees as he pulls you flush to his chest.

The taste that he shares with you makes you see stars. The sweet, rich taste of the blood makes your own rush, erotically exhilarating. It’s all you can do to hold yourself back from tearing at Azriel’s clothes, instead burying your fingers into his silky black locks as he ravages you with his mouth.

His grip around you turns firmer, and his cock strains against his trousers. He so terribly wants to take you upstairs to his room, tear that soiled dress from your hips and have his way with you, but when your new fangs split his lip and you begin suckling on his blood, he’s reminded of how you need to be fed.

Azriel shoves the feeling of you lapping at his lip from his mind, achingly wanting you to be sucking at other parts of him. His cock twitches at the mewl you give when he gently removes you from his mouth, but thankfully he doesn’t move far, twisting you around and sitting you between his legs.

You can hardly breathe with his cock pressed against your back. You can feel exactly how big he is, and you resist the urge to writhe against him as he brushes his fingers down your arms in a soothing motion.

You settle for pressing back into his chest, so Azriel knows exactly your motive.

“Soon, sweetheart,” he murmurs in your ear, reaching out to drag the no longer breathing male closer to you both.

Your breath hitches and you wet your lips as you think about how it had tasted, absolutely intoxicating.

Azriel settles the dead male up against his side. His head lolls on a limp neck but Azriel is quick to right him, offering you his neck as he leans in, lips brushing the shell of your ear sensually.

“Go ahead, love. Drink your fill, and I’ll take you upstairs.”

You nearly moan at his words, but staring down at the male in your lap you can’t help but feel badly for him, having met an untimely end at Azriel’s hands. His blood is slipping down the sides of his neck and onto your lap and it makes you cringe, your stomach roil.

“It won’t always be so messy,” Azriel soothes, a steady presence at your back. “This one had a little more fight in him than I gave him credit for.” He pecks your neck over the scars he’d left on your neck from the night before. He can’t wait to see your reaction to them.

When you pause, rubbing your fingers through his thick blood and grimacing at the way it soaks into your clothes, Azriel is quick to reassure you.

“You look beautiful with all of that blood on you, love,” he purrs. “And if you don’t think so, I’ll be happy to lick it clean from every crevice on your body, but you need to eat, pretty, you need your energy.”

He doesn’t have to ask twice, leaning forward and sinking your fangs into the male’s neck.

#azriel x reader #azriel/reader #azsazz #acotar #acomaf #acowar #shadowsinger #vampire!azriel #vampire au

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