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firsttimewriter92 · 1 year

Note

Steven grant being a soft dom? Make it as nsfw as your heart desires 😁

Dear simpforbritgents, THANK YOU for asking for Steven <3 Perfect timing for the Moon Knight anniversary ;) I feel like there is a criminal lack of fanfiction about this lovely man. Writing him dominant was a little difficult at first but I think I did it. I hope you enjoy my smutty little smut smut. It´s purely indulgent because I just LOVE an anxious gentleman. EXPLICIT. Minors, be GONE!! I apologise for any missinformation about their condition/terminology

Summary: Two idiots in love and an alter that´s had enough of the pining

Word count: 4.757

Warnings: comfort/fluff, kissing, making out, teasing, lovemaking, desperate PinV, no protection (Wrap it up, guys!!!), little angsty, immense fluff

“I´m sorry, love. I´m sorry, I know. I´m late.” Rounding the counter of the gift shop hurriedly, Steven was panting. His ink black hair was slightly plastered to his forehead, little droplets of perspiration gathering at his temple. He gave you an apologetic smile as he kicked his bag underneath the counter. You grinned back mischievously at your best friend, leaning your hip sassily against the countertop and crossing your arms. “Did Marc give you a hard time again?” you asked. His slightly bloodshot eyes went round as saucers and he hissed in a panicked voice “Don´t say that out loud,___. Aside from you, nobody knows about this.” You rolled your eyes playfully. “There´s nobody here yet, Steven, calm down.” He gave you a sour look as you giggled. Steven sighed deeply rubbing his dark circled eyes. “I think the muppet went out drinking last night. I feel proper shit.”

Just as he said it an obnoxious sound reached your ears. The insistent clearing of a throat. “Don´t think I didn’t notice you being late again, Stevie.” Steven closed his eyes in defeat and turned to look at the blond. “Mornin´ Donna.” Her beady eyes shot in your direction for a moment, knowing well you wouldn’t take much of her shit. She usually preferred to berate Steven when you weren’t around. You had no problem snapping back at her the moment she overdid it, especially when it came to your best friend. You were quite fond of Steven. Well, that was a gods damn lie. You were head over heels for the anxious, not knowing how good he looks brit. He didn’t need to know that though. It was wishful thinking even though you´d accepted his issues and tried to help him as best you could. Steven had bigger problems than losing his best friend over silly feelings he didn’t return.

When you noticed that something was up with him and he finally confided in you (after massive arguments with Mark as he told you later), he was so scared you´d deem him a freak and leave. He told you about everything. About Marc and what he had been through. About how he, Steven, came to be. He told you about Konshu and Layla and Harrow, about what happened in Egypt. You went almost crazy when one day he´d just vanished without a trace for days. Steven always said he owed you that explanation. Although he didn’t have to deal with Konshu anymore, Marc, he couldn´t and wouldn´t let go. You understood completely. And yet, you still had to meet Marc in person. Sometimes when Steven knew you wouldn’t have time to spend with him, he´d let Marc take over to spend time with his wife. And every time, Steven came back to work either with a hangover or hickeys scattered across his collarbone and scratch marks down his arms. Those marks hurt. You knew it was Marc and damn it, he was a married man but still…Sometimes you just whished you could mark Steven up just as much. Showing his alter that he was yours, although he wasn’t.

Steven was mortified the first time he connected the dots about these marks and swore by the life of Gus, he couldn’t remember anything. That Marc made sure he would never, ever be involved. Not that Marc´s ego would allow it anyway.

“I really don´t give a rat´s behind what you do all night, Stevie, but come in late one more time and ___ will work the desk alone from now on.” Donna´s head nodded in your direction and you fixed her with a stone cold glare. “It´s Steven, Donna. Ste-ven. One would think an oh so educated career women such as yourself would be able to hold onto that tiny bit of information” you seethed. Donna´s neck turned pink as she gave a sarcastic huff and walked away.

Steven turned to you with a proud smile. “I wish I had the comebacks you have” he said with a crooked grin. You gave him a smirk and leaned closer to him, looking into his glittering dark eyes. “I´ll gladly teach you, my young Padawan.” Steven´s smile widened even more. “Now come on. These highly authentic gummy scarabs aren´t going to sell themselves” you sang.

Steven mind was reeling even after you leaned back into your own space and began restocking the shelves of the gift shop. His heart was beating in his throat manically and once again he cursed his hesitation. He had it bad for you ever since he heard you berate Donna for the first time for calling him Stevie. His heart warmed every time he saw you, his pulse picking up every time he heard you quietly humming to yourself. He had to force his eyes away from your figure every time you wore one of those bloody summer dresses.

Seriously, man, he heard Marc sigh in his head. How many times do I have to tell you? When you´re in front, go for it! Pursue her, for crying out loud. It´s kind of getting old that you´re always just beating it to the thought of her. Steven spluttered some excuse and immediately made a beeline to the employee bathroom. Locking the door behind him he stomped over to the mirror and was met with the reflection of a sly grinning Marc. “Will you stop?!” he hissed, cheeks aflame. Marc rolled his eyes. Come on, Steven. It´s getting pathetic. It´s happening almost every night now. Aren´t you tired of that? Wouldn’t you rather have her panting underneath you, hmm? Her shaking thighs around your waist? Her perky- “Stop talking about her like that!” Steven yelled and immediately gave the door a panicked look. Marc´s reflection lifted his palms in apology. All right, you´re right. That was a bit out of line but, Steven…you´re head over heels for this woman. It´s getting painful to look at. Will you please just talk to her? Take her out on a date? Fuck her senseless so we can sleep again?

Steven groaned as image after image invaded his mind, making his palms sweat. He exhaled a long breath. Of course he knew Marc was right. It was getting a little ridiculous. The way he thought about you when he was pleasuring himself? Pure filth! Every night! He shook his head. “I know” he admitted, looking at Marc in the mirror. “I know I need to do something but…Marc…what if she doesn’t feel the same? I can´t…I can´t lose her, Marc. That would quite literally rip me apart.” Marc´s expression changed from sly to understanding. Nodding and rubbing his face he tried to encourage his brother. I´m not the most sensitive guy anymore, that´s way more up your alley. I see the way she looks at you though. I see Layla´s expressions in her eyes sometimes. If that helps. Steven lifted his head, his eyes big and hopeful. I can give you some tips I guess. But then it´s up to you. You´re not me. She´s not into me. Remember that. The moment her tongue is in your mouth, I´m gone, dude.

“I´d say that´s what I´d expect, yea?” Steven said with a small smile. His stomach was twisting with nerves. He needed Marc´s help to get anywhere with you. And although he was terrified to confess, he was sure he´d burst at the seams any day now if he wouldn’t be able to make his feelings known. It caused him physical pain.

Tonight was movie night. Perfect. He would have to do something tonight, lest he spend this night as well with his hand around his cock, imagining your blissed out face as you came violently around him.

_____________________________________________________

You knocked on Steven´s door like every Friday night and like every Friday night, Steven opened the door with a smile. Something was different though. It looked like he had just jumped out the shower and your eyes went momentarily wide. Your pulse started to race when your gaze drifted from the water droplets running down his neck to his tousled hair and…the sweatpants. The bloody sweatpants. He didn’t seem to notice your ogling when he turned on his heel and said “Come on in, popcorn´s almost ready, love.”

Shaking your head and trying hard not to look at his firm behind you entered what somehow suddenly felt like a lion’s den. Your skin erupted in goosebumps when you took a look around. You always loved his messy apartment. This time though it seemed like he made some kind of effort. His bed clearly visible in the back was made, the dining table void of any books and notes and….was it warmer in here than usual?

You made your way over to his couch and sat down, stiffer than you usually did. When Steven rounded the bookshelf, bowl of popcorn in hand you had to swallow hard. Was it just your imagination or did his hips swing more than usual? Did he always used to wear shirts that fitted? Since when were his arms this bulgy? Letting your eyes wander shamelessly you also noticed something else. Something lower…something in his sweatpants…Holy bloody hell!

Hastily you averted your eyes. The temperature in your body rising steadily and your breath getting shallower, only one more sentence seemed to form in your brain. He´s not wearing underwear, he´s not wearing underwear, he´s not wearing underwear!!!

Steven plopped down next to you, reaching for the remote. He sat up slightly when he did, set down the bowl of popcorn on the coffee table and as he sat back down it wasn’t your imagination playing tricks on you. He was much closer now. So close you could feel his scorching heat burn into your thigh, arm and shoulder. What the hell was going on? It´s not like you didn’t enjoy it. On the contrary. Your head was reeling, body pulsing. Slowly you sank deeper into the cushions of his couch, leaning towards him even more.

While the movie was playing, the sensations his closeness invoked were rising and rising. His scent invaded your every breath. Firewood, cotton and something close to caramel. The pressure you felt right between your legs almost became impossible to ignore. With a little groan you tried to rub your legs together as discreetly as you could but….“You alright, love?”

“Huh?” your head whipped towards Steven who was already staring at you. Not looking, staring. His eyes were intense but soft. Unblinking his dark irises were fixed on yours, his nose almost touching yours while your panting breath escaped your lips. “Are you hot?” he whispered. Your eyebrows shot up your forehead. “W-What?” you croaked dryly. “Is it too hot for you in here, darlin´?” His voice was smooth as butter. Quiet and silken. You almost went cross eyed as you tried not to look at his full lips. “A little…maybe” you breathed. Stevens mouth quirked upwards into a grin you hadn’t seen before. A small thought made its way into your foggy brain like a small flickering light. “Let me get you something to cool down then, yea?” As he said it, he leaned in just a tiny bit more, lightly and carefully bumping the tip of his nose with yours.

You kissed breathing goodbye.

The moment he stood up and passed right in front of you, his round cheeks right in front of your face, you knew…you knew he heard how you almost choked on your own saliva. Suddenly that flickering light in your head turned into a lit match.

“Marc!” you said a little too loudly and clambered from the couch. Steven, or Marc, froze into place by the fridge. You walked over to him slowly on shaky legs. You observed how his strong shoulders tensed and his hands clenched and unclenched. “Are you?...Marc?” you asked carefully, standing only 6 feet behind him now. He let out a sigh and let his head hang as he sheepishly turned around. No Marc. This was definitely your Steven. His ears and cheeks were tinted flaming pink when he looked at you with slightly hooded eyes.

“Afraid it´s just me, love” he said, disappointment lacing his baritone voice. Immediately your body reacted to his tone with a sinking feeling in your stomach. “Just….you? Steven, what…?” you took a step towards him. He lifted his hands and ruffled his own still damp hair and groaned. After taking another big, big breath he turned to you fully and looked you square in the eyes. Something aching visible on his beautiful face.

“I´m sorry,___. I asked Marc to help me with this but I think we both went a little overboard. What was I thinking? I´m not bloody smooth. I´m awkward and I babble when I´m nervous which is all the time when I´m around you. It´s a good nervous. Such a good nervous but did I have the bloody balls to do something about it? No. I needed help from my alter that actually gets laid. He told me! He told me `Steven, don´t forget, she´s into you, not me. Don’t try to be me`. And that´s exactly what I did! I´m such a muppet. You´re the only person I ever wanted to impress or cared about what they thought of me. You´re wonderful, you´re strong, you´re beautiful, you´re…you´re…” by the end of his sentence he was breathless. Still staring at you, gauging for your reaction, his eyes looked at you with worry, fear and hope. It was a look that would forever be imprinted into your brain. Especially when you knew immediately that you wanted to take him out of his misery. You smiled at him as warmly as you could and closed more distance.

“Steven, you wonderful man” you said fondly. His eyes blitzed at the compliment. “How could you think that I would want anyone that is not you?” Slowly you raised your hands and encased his face, his eyes wide. His hands twitched when they lifted to your waist. “And just so you know, you are smooth. Very much so, darling. Got me all flustered” you grinned. His shy laugh made your heart sing. Stevens hand slowly moved up and down your sides before he gently pulled you closer until your chests were touching. “You mean that?” he asked, a little uncertainty still lingering in his voice. “Uhum” you nodded your head softly, tilting it a little to brush your nose with his. He took a shaking breath before his grin let his teeth show. “___” he rumbled your name softly. It caused a shiver to run down your spine in the most delicious way. “Can I?”

Softly nodding you closed your eyes contently, his breath fanning your face and your heart going ballistic. The way he pressed his lips to yours was not hesitant or shy. It was a determined encasing of your lower lip. Soft and insistent. A bolt of lightning shot through your body and as he moved one hand to the back of your head opening his mouth to you, a long happy groan escaped you. It was magical the way his lips moved over yours. A hunger you weren’t used to rose in your belly so the moment he introduced his hot tongue into the kiss your arms wound themselves around his neck, pulling him down to you. A surprised breath escaped him but he didn’t stop. His arm wound around the small of your back, lifting you momentarily.

His tongue gliding over yours made your head foggy yet again. “Steven” you mumbled against his mouth. “Steven…more.” He groaned long and deep. “My pleasure, love” he said happily. You yelped when he scooted down and quite literally threw you over his shoulder, walking briskly over to his bed. Giggling like a maniac he threw you onto the mattress and quickly made his way above you. Swallowing hard you looked at his smiling face. His eyes even darker now, his lips kiss swollen and shining. His elbows held him up while you slowly opened your legs to make room for his narrow hips. Snuggling closer he started pecking your face and neck lightly and lovingly. “Sweet, sweet girl. Been dreaming of this so much. You´re so soft, my love. So warm.” His mumbled praises went right to your nether regions and you could feel your panties dampen. His weight between your legs was comforting and arousing at the same time. Your hands glided over his shoulders and down his chest as he started suckling your neck. “Steven….Steven, please” you said with a whine and arched your back into him.

“Please what, love? Come on, birdie. Use your words.” His confidence sparked something in you. “Please. I want you, Steven. Want to feel you.” He chuckled and grazed his teeth against your jaw, making you shiver and grab onto the hem of his shirt, tugging. It came off in a second, carelessly thrown over his shoulder. Forget damp panties, they were proper drenched now by the sight of his toned chest and shoulders. “Fuck” you huffed and let your hands wander. His fiery gaze raked over your heaving chest. “Your turn, birdie.” Nodding quickly he helped you get rid of your shirt and bra. Once your breasts were freed he sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth. His tongue poked out to wet his lips. “Heavens, please. Please let me put my mouth on you” he panted. You only had time to nod once before he surged down and carefully and languidly sucked one nipple into his mouth.

Again you felt a bolt surge down your body and a long moan escaped your lips. Your hips lifted towards him and now you could clearly feel his arousal pressing insistently against your pussy. “Shit” he rasped against your chest, switching to the other nipple. His hand splayed out over the small of your back and quite literally yanked you upwards while grinding against you. A long, ragged groan mixed with your own high pitched sigh created a melody only you and him were able to compose.

Sweat started to coat your body as he was still grinding, suckling and grabbing every slither of naked skin he could find. All your thoughts were occupied by him. The sweet scent of arousal, sweat and him invaded your nose and brain unlike anything you´d ever experienced. “You´re a dream come true” Steve panted, lifting his head and looking at you like you were everything he´d ever wanted. A feeling of overwhelming fondness and attraction tightened your chest and very specific words formed on your tongue. Too occupied with the sensation of his hard cock rubbing just right against the already wet patch on your pants, the words just spilled. “Fuck, Steven. Feels so good, don’t stop, please. I love you.”

His mouth stopped abusing your nipple. Within a second his eyes were trained on yours. Blown wide open he stared at you. “Say it again” he said lowly. “Say it again, please.” You could hear the pleading in his voice. Swallowing hard, your hands moved to the back of his neck and played with his luscious curls. “I love you” you whispered.

Like a dam breaking you saw his eyes water slightly, an incredulous breath bubbling up from his chest. In a second he was on you. Kissing you like a man starved, moving his hips more insistently against you. You threw your head back before you could think too much about the fact that he hadn´t said it back yet. “Darling,” he panted. “Little bird, you have no idea how much I…How often I dreamt of those words. Please let me have you, please, please.” You were sure you were going cross eyed at this point. With a rushing in your ears you clung to him. “Want you in me. Steven, please. Now. Want you so much.”

The last bit of his restraint snapped and with a feral growl he basically clawed the rest of your clothes off of you. Completely bare to him you reached out and pushed down his sweatpants. Quickly he wriggled out of them, kind of awkwardly but none of you could mind it that much.

“You sure?” he grunted while grabbing his cock an tugging on it. “Steven, I swear to everything that is holy, if you don’t fill me up right this second I´m going to lose my mind!” He grinned and grabbed your thighs in a vice like grip, yanking you towards him. “C´ mere then, little bird” he said.

Not waiting for any preparation, just pure lust and desperation to feel each other fuelling you, he grabbed the backsides of your thighs and pushed them back and further apart. Situating himself between them he took his dick into his hand and guided it to your entrance. “Little bird” he breathed raggedly when he pushed himself into you.

“Gods, Steven” you choked out as he bottomed out. Clawing at his back squirming you needed a minute to adjust. He stilled and screwed his eyes shut in concentration. “Don’t move, my love” he pressed out. “Don’t move. I´m goin´ to cum, fuck.” You tried to stay as still as you could but the sensation of his pulsing dick inside of you made it a herculean task. Little desperate whimpers left your mouth as you stared up at his face. His eyebrows were still pinched, his jaw set. When he opened his eyes again they immediately locked on yours. Your hands made their way onto his back, splaying out and clearly feeling the goosebumps there. A shudder ran down his curved spine as he leaned over you more, never breaking eye contact.

“I love you, too” he whispered, stroking your cheek. “I love you so damn much, my bird.” The breath you didn’t notice you were holding escaped your lungs in a rush. As you pulled him down to you yet again his weight settled perfectly on top of you. Steven kissed you while he started moving his hips again and a sensation unlike anything you´d ever felt rocked your body up into his.

“Steven” you mumbled, pressing his face closer to your collarbone. Chuckling lightly he hummed to let you know he was listening. “What-What are you doing to me? You feel so fucking good. Oh, oh fuck.” You could feel how your comments affected him and his determination to make you feel as good as possible. He whines low in his throat, licking one broad stripe up your neck to the underside of your ear. His hot breath fanning the shell of your hear he panted. “I almost came just by entering your beautiful, wet pussy. You´re perfect for me. Just for me. Mine.” His last word was punctuated with a sharp thrust into your hips making you yelp and claw at his back.

“Fuck! Do that again. Steven, move. Please.” He didn’t hesitate and started moving quicker on top of you, holding you in his arms. Burying his face into your neck, moaning, he grinded his pelvis against you in a way that definitely made you cross eyed this time. Your mouth was wide open, your head thrown back and one hand fisted in the soft sheets below you.

“Y-Yours” you managed to croak out as another high pitched moan escaped you. His dick reaching a spot inside you that made your vision blurry from tears. “Mine” Steven panted above you. When your vision zeroed in on his face again he looked magnificent. Sweat was beading on his forehead, his eyes were as black as his hair that lay tousled against his head. His eyes bore an intensity that made your stomach clench and the low simmer of your orgasm erupted into a boiling inevitability.

“You´re mine,___” he said as he looked into your hooded eyes. He lifted a hand and placed it on your jaw, lightly grabbing your chin and tilting your face up to his even more. “Say it” he said with another pressure filled grind of his hips. “Say you´re mine and I´ll let you cum.”

“I´m yours, Steven. Always have been. Fuck, I don’t want anybody else. Please, baby, please, I wanna cum.” The tears that fell down the sides of your face were captured by his lips. “Okey, baby” he said with a sly smile and went up on his hands, positioning himself for the last stretch. “Hold on to me, birdy.” Your arms went around his neck without thinking what he might have warned you about.

You found out the next second.

Steven wasn´t the biggest you´ve ever had but by far the one who knew best how to use the movement of his hips. He didn´t push in what didn’t need to be pushed and didn’t bruise the underside of your thighs. He moved his lower body into you in naturally flowing motions that made your brain stop sending important messages to your body like breathing. As his hips picked up speed and his groans above you became more voluminous you again felt your orgasm approaching further.

“___, fuck. Hmmm, fuck, little one. That´s it. Can feel you´re close. Come on, sweetheart. ´M right behind you. Let me have it, give it to me!”

“Steven, oh gods…I´m so close. Please. Fuck, fuck, fuck!!” Almost each of your words was spiralled higher by his hips, his hot dick and his grabbing hands on your ribs and shoulder. You felt your whole body clench. Your knees pulled up and back further to make his dick slip in further with each stroke, your arms around his wide shoulders pressing him further into you.

“That´s it! That´s it!” he groaned and started quite literally fucking you into the mattress. Only a few moments later your hazy brain registered how your mouth opened and a short, delicious scream came from your throat. Your body seized all movement before you began shaking. The pleasure that surged through your veins shot into every corner of your body. From your toes to your scalp your skin was buzzing and burning. “Steven” you whined and grabbed his hair. “St-Steve-hnnn, oh my gods. Fuck, yes. Yes, don’t stop! I´m cumming, I´m cumming, Steven. Fuck. Shit….Arrrhhgg!”

“Fuuuuuuck, little bird, you´re so gorgeous. Come on, baby, just a little more for me. Ughhn, that´s right. Clench around me again. Goin´ to fill you up so good. Leave your marks on me” Steven was almost babbling as helplessly as you as he gave you these demands. Through the sheen of red and golden flecks dancing over your blurred vision you turned your head and as you lover was desperately rutting into you, you bit his neck right underneath his ear.

Stevens hand shot out to hold onto the bookshelf behind his bed as a masterfully sinful moan passed his lips and his orgasm took him. “Yes! Yes! Yes, baby, so good. So damn good. Fuckin´ ell, ahh!”

A few more rolls of his hips until his ragged breath calmed a little. With one last whiny groan he collapsed onto you.

After several minutes of heavy breathing, little kisses, nips and licks to necks and faces, the both of you lay in each other´s arms, facing each other. Steven had gotten up for only a minute to get a wet cloth from the bathroom to clean you up and after, pulled a sheet over your still slightly shivering bodies. “We sweat a little. Don’t want you to catch a cold just laying here.”

Your hand moved over his back slowly as your eyes grew heavier and heavier. You heard Steven chuckling lovingly, gracing your forehead with several little pecks before whispering. “Sleep, lovie. I´ll be right here when you wake up. Relax, I´ve got you. I love you.”

You couldn’t help the content sigh that left you before you mumbled “I love you too”. He guided your head into the crook of his neck, snuggling you as close as he could. Did you sweat? Yes. Did your bodies still carry the scent of your lovemaking? Yes. Did either of you care? No.

Would you look at that, Steven! You did it. Atta boy.

Steven rolled his eyes when he heard Marc´s voice but couldn’t contain the happy, dorky grin that split his lips as he cuddled your evenly breathing body.

“Shut up, Marc” he whispered as quietly as he could.

Apparently not quiet enough. He could feel your lips move against his throat when you mumbled the words that made him giggle with happiness and pride.

“Yeah, shut up, Marc.”

______________________________________________________

Thank you very much for reading. I hope you enjoyed ;) I´d be very happy if you left a comment, like or reblog this fic. I´m still trying to get my foot in the door when it comes to fanfiction writing.

Have a wonderful day, everyone <3

#moon knight x reader #steven grant fanfiction #steven grant smut #mr. knight #steven grant #moon knight fanfic #moon knight smut #steven grant x you #steven grant fluff #steven grant fic #moon knight steven #i want this man so bad #this man is so beautiful

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actuallysaiyan · 2 years

Text

My Girl(Sannin NSFW headcanons)

word count: 0.9k warnings: smut, being shared by the sannin, face riding, slight jealousy, mentions of virginity loss, lots of smuttiness, mentions of drinking. summary: after the war, the sannin came back feeling all kinds of different ways. this is the headcanons for that. pairings: Tsunade Senju x Fem!Reader, Orochimaru x Fem!Reader and Jiraiya x Fem!Reader

The war left Tsunade feeling so cold and lost. She’s a bit of a greedy and selfish lover, but she never leaves you unsatisfied.

She likes to show up late at night and is super drunk. She’s loud and brash, and makes lots of noise when she knocks on your window.

Tsunade loves to take her time riding your face. She will greedily grind against you until she is absolutely shaking.

She moans loudly as her third orgasm washes over her. You’re practically suffocating between her thighs, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. Out of your sannin lovers, Tsunade is easily the greediest. You think it’s because she’s so afraid of losing someone else. She’s afraid to lose you. You are someone she finds so much comfort in. She couldn’t even bear the thought of losing you just like losing so many others before.

She doesn’t care about sharing with her two partners. No, that doesn’t matter to her when all she wants to do is fuck the pain away. She shudders as the final waves wash over her, rendering her into a numb mush of a human being. She slowly comes down from her high and climbs off of you. You take a deep breath and let yourself get as much air as possible. Tsunade chuckles as she settles on the bed next to you.

“Thanks. I needed that.”

You kiss her softly and she moans at the taste of herself on your lips. It doesn’t take too long before these kisses become heated. Eventually, she’s kissing a sloppy trail down your body. She parts your thighs and smirks at you. Her fingers part your folds, collecting the juices on her digits. She can’t believe how wet you got just from letting her ride your face.

“So wet from just letting me use that pretty mouth of yours.”

You blush at her words. She’s always had that effect on you. And you think to yourself, that she probably always will.

Orochimaru comes back from the war with an even bigger need for love. He wants to feel connected to someone else. He longs to feel love.

He’ll be overprotective and possessive, but he enjoys spoiling you as well. He doesn’t like when someone tries to mess with his lover.

Long lovemaking sessions are his favorites. He will spend hours just rutting into you, his heavy balls slapping against you.

Orochimaru buries his face in the crook of your neck. He doesn’t want you to see the tears in his eyes. When he first met you, he thought so little of you. He found it revolting that his two teammates wanted to share a lover between the three of them. But as he got to know you, he found that your softness was the exact thing he truly needed. He was drawn in by your kind heart and he became addicted to having you around all the time.

He loves being so deep inside of you. Your silky walls pulse and clench around him so tightly, making him whine in a louder pitched voice than usual. Something that he would be so mortified if anyone found out about it. The way you moan his name just drives him crazy too. It sounds like a song written just for him. Orochimaru isn’t sure that he could continue being such a bad person with you in his life.

“Love you so much, Oro’.” You always coo the sweetest things to him. And he’s so sure that you must be saying these to the others, but he likes to pretend it’s for him only.

He grunts softly as you clench around him. He wants to tell you to keep your mouth shut to not give him hope, but he loves the sweet words you give him. It’s the only time he’ll truly hear it. He knows you’re in love with all three of them.

“I love you too,”

Jiraiya came back from the war hornier! He has lost his virginity, and his love for sex has grown even more than the last time you saw him.

He’s the one who suggested that the three of them share you. He knows that they all have softness for you, and he adores you to bits.

He was your first. Jiraiya took your virginity in a very sweet and romantic way. He loves to dote on you a lot.

“Come on, baby.” Jiraiya moans, “cum again for daddy.”

You moan as he pounds himself into you. His cock rubbing up against your sweet spot over and over again has you reeling. You’ve already cum so many times tonight, but Jiraiya is on a mission. He wants to prove himself to be a very good lover. You iust think it’s funny that he wants to prove that to you every time you have sex. He has your legs pinned against your chest, and he’s plowing into you with such vigor that the headboard of the bed slams against the wall with every thrust.

“Your poor neighbors, baby. They must hate me.” Jiraiya jokes before leaning in to nip at your neck.

A happy sigh falls from your lips as he finally bites down on the tender flesh. Jiraiya enjoys marking you up. He doesn’t care that he shares you with his teammates, they can mark you up all they want. But as far as anyone is concerned, you pretty much belong to Jiraiya. He claimed you first, and he will take you from the others if it comes to it.

His thumb comes to rub your clit in sloppy circles, and that sends you over the edge. Jiraiya thrusts into you harder with every wave of your orgasm, and you drench the sheets in your juices.

“That’s my good girl.”

#bacon.writes #jiraiya #tsunade #orochimaru #jiraiya x you #jiraiya x reader #jiraiya x y/n #jiraiya x fem!reader #tsunade x you #tsunade x y/n #tsunade x reader #tsunade x fem!reader #orochimaru x you #orochimaru x y/n #orochimaru x reader #orochimaru x fem!reader #sannin x you #sannin x y/n #sannin x reader

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goldensunflowe-r · 2 years

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Tommy Shelby Smut

Part 2

Masterlist

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luke-o-lophus · 2 years

Text

Reborn a Blessing

Summary: Marc has had a lifetime of miserable birthdays. This year, with you, he dares ask for a gift. For a retelling of terrible memories. Sweet smutty-smut ensues. Sequel to Born a Crime but can be read independently.

Marc Spector/female Reader

Warnings: Smut, 18+, minors DNI. sub!Marc. Collars, use of belt but no pain play. A bit of praise kink and body worship. Sweet lovemaking. Fluffy with a subtext of canon past trauma.

His birthday evening with you. Marc hasn't made any plans, or mentioned it at all today. You know better than to throw him a surprise, still it hasn't boded well with you that he not celebrate at all. So you've tried to subtly pepper in things he likes all through the day. You had ordered takeout like you do every Sunday lunch, but you had made a dessert at home that "you had seen a recipe online and wanted to try out". You wear the soft blue dress that always has Marc looking doe-eyed at you. You give him soft pecks throughout the day because 'dunno I feel like it'. Marc knows of course, but he deeply appreciates it. He's relieved that you both are trying to keep the pretense up, dancing this little dance of feigning innocence. He knows you want to get him a gift, not maybe an object but do something at least. It's how you express love, and god, you seemed to have so much of that to give. So by evening when you have become unusually clingy, the three glasses of wine have made your skin beautifully warm, he dares ask for something.

He asks for a kiss. It's a silent question, hand cupping your cheek and thumb tracing the edge of your lip. He glances between that and your eyes and you comply immediately, eagerly. You swoop in, fingers slithering in his curls. He doesn't move, just tilting his chin up to press his lips closer. It's a silent request for you to take care of him, you know. But then he does the unthinkable; he pulls back and whispers to you, "Can I ask for something?"

"Of course", you respond. "Anything." At that word, there's a small quiver over his brows, an emotion you can't quite place. He leads you to your bedroom, you trailing behind him. He walks you to his wardrobe, hand still holding yours, and pulls out a belt. You stare at the brown piece of leather, silver buckle glittering golden from the yellow light pouring in from the living room. You squeeze his hand tight, looking up with wide eyes. "Are you sure?", you ask earnestly. He gently wrenches his hand away and hands you the belt, his face relaxed, a hint of a smile on his lips. "Yeah", is his short answer. You grab the belt; you know what he wants. You've done it once before but never on this day. "Is it too much? I get it if..", he is quick to gauge your nerves. "No...god, no", you stop him there, eager to please. "But...I'll need a kiss first."

With an almost dopey smile he leans down and kisses you, holding your face tenderly, tongue slipping out and giving a quick swipe. Then he sinks to his knees before you and looks up expectantly. Your mouth fall open at the sight. He's holding his head up, neck prone and so vulnerable. "I'm going to take such good care of you", you almost purr out, reaching down and stretching out the belt in your hands. "You remember your safewords?"

He nods, "Green, yellow, red." A soft kiss is placed on his cheek and a soft "Good boy" uttered in your throaty voice. Then you loop the cool leather around his neck and buckle it up in a makeshift collar. You'd made sure it be loose enough for one finger to slip in. His eyes close at the sensation and you let him get used to it, kissing the exposed base of his neck, suckling the spot that made him become putty in your arms. He takes it willingly, unmoving. You're unbuttoning his shirt as you lick and soothe the reddening spot, your hands splaying all over his chest and back as soon as enough skin is exposed. Your nails rake up the warm brown skin of his sides as you capture his lips again, one hand grabbing the loose end of the belt to keep his head in position. When you part you're pulling him up by the belt. He quickly scrambles to his feet, eyes latched to yours, taking steps almost in a trance as you walk backwards to the nearest wall. Positioning his back to it, you cage him in with your smaller form. "I need you to touch yourself, can you do that?", you ask sweetly, twisting the belt in your hand and making it ever so slightly tighter. He answers by reaching down and pulling his pants down past his hips, letting out a soft groan as his hardening member feels the chill of the night air. "Yeah, don't hold that sweet voice in", you encourage him as he begins to stroke himself. Your own hands palm his firm chest, nails dragging and pinching his sensitive nipples. He is soon panting before you, and you haven't even touched him there yet. "Stop", you order gently and he does, his lips almost pouting in obvious reluctance. "Turn around."

A shiver passes through his form at that command, and you know you're pushing against some limit. But he complies, turning and resting his cheek to the wall, and he even lets you pull his hands away and place them alongside his head. His back is sensitive you know, both literally and figuratively. There are many silvery tendrils of scarred flesh on its broad expanse, testament to the wringer he'd been put through life. "You're so beautiful", you croon into his neck, feeling a whimper almost bubble out of his lips. Then you're drawing fingers down the presented flesh, one hand still holding up the belt. Your lips kiss and lick at every scar you find while you very gently grind into his backside. Soon he's groaning again under every light touch, every wet kitten-lick you inflict on his reactive body. Seeing him melting like this always gets you going. By the time you work down to the curve of his ass, you have to stop yourself from moaning and rubbing your thighs together; tonight isn't about you. Because of the angle when you're down there, the grip on the belt has him arched backwards in a delicious way. The leather must be digging into his skin, but he is too lost in the sparks of gorgeous sensations to give a flying fuck about it. "Please", he begs then, his dick weeping beads of precum. "Of course", you soothe immediately. "Do you want to cum, love?" "Yes... please", he moans out.

"And how do you want me to make you cum, love? Drain every drop of you with my cunt...or do you want my mouth tonight?", you almost hum into his ear, standing up again. Marc didn't know something so filthy can be said with such love, and his back arches in response. "Wanna be inside you so bad, baby", he gasps. You nip his earlobe in response,"So shall be it." You pull him off the wall by the belt again, walking to the bed and pushing him towards it. He stumbles a step then falls backwards onto the soft sheets. Never once do his eyes leave you and your knees almost buckle at the sheer trust he is placing on you. You take a moment to admire the view. Marc's upper body laid on the bed, heaving chest glistening with a sheen of sweat. The belt-collar still looked loose enough, and you have to bite your lips at the sheer gorgeousness that was Marc Spector. "Sit up and move back", you urge. Somehow he looks even more hot when he does, pants fallen off and fully nude, leaning against the headrest and eyes begging for release. You reach under your dress and remove your panties. Crawling up to him, you gently coax his thighs to part a bit. Reclaiming your grasp on the belt, you position yourself over him.

"W-wait", he gasps suddenly. You stop in reflex, let the belt go and ask,"Colour, Marc?"

"Green, very green", he swallows, clearly trying hard to not rut into you. "But you...you haven't..." You're not prepped, he worries. He always worries. "I can, sweetie...may I...?", you assure him. He nods then, his hands snaking underneath your dress to hold your sides. You capture his lips in a kiss and start to sink yourself on him. His whimpers into your mouth are exquisite, but maybe he is right about you needing more prep. Somewhat wet as you are, Marc's thick length is splitting you in half when you're all the way in. It takes all of your focus to not let pained gasps escape you. You kiss him earnestly to chase the sting away, and you feel Marc reach down to your folds and start rolling your nub with the pad of his fingers. You're grateful for how well he knows your body, torturous as it must be to be sheathed in your tight heat with no movement. It takes you much longer than usual to adjust to him, and he's patiently playing with your clit all the while. You pull back from the kiss with almost apologetic eyes but his cheeks are flushed and eyes too glazed over to care. Tightening your hold on the belt, you start moving. Wet squelches fill the silence, accompanied by moans and whimpers from the both of you. As the pace increases, his hands come back to your sides, helping you be in place and ride him to his orgasm, his head thrown back beautifully and chants of your name leaving his kiss-swollen lips. His grip on you tenses suddenly as he reaches the peak, and with a few encouraging words from you, he lets go with a broken cry. You ride him through his orgasm, kissing his shoulder and soothing his chest as you feel the last shivers pass through his body. Then you're pulling your hips up with a wince and quickly unclasping the buckle, anxiously tracing his neck for any signs of pain. "Easy, easy", he soothes, grabbing your hand and bringing it to his lips. "I'm good, nothing hurts. That was ...amazing." He brushes his lips on your knuckles and mutters,"Best birthday ever." You chuckle at him finally acknowledging it's his birthday, slumping against his form and wrapping around him like a koala. You lay like that for a bit, then Marc suddenly sits up with a start,"You..you didn't finish" You blink at him, shrugging,"Wasn't trying to, wanted you to feel good...it's okay"

"No the fuck it's not", he almost whines. Then his eyes are dancing with something deliciously wicked, and he thumbs the collar of your dress, drawling in a heady voice,"I think it's time for your return gift, baby." It's your turn to blush and sputter, warmth coursing through your body at the tone. "You're a fucking blessing, Marc Spector", you croon as his fingers reach for your folds again.

#marc is a softy #moon knight #marc spector #moon knight x reader #marc spector x reader #marvel #smutty smuts #marc spector smut #moon knight smut #x reader smut #sub marc spector #collars

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the-wild-wolves-around-you · 2 years

Text

even as a shadow, even as a dream pt.6

Pairing: Vamp!Eddie Munson/Fem Reader; Vamp!Eddie Munson/You

Summary: The long-awaited smutty finale. With a good deal of angst thrown in. (Eddie's POV)

Rating: E(xplicit) Minors DNI

WC: 17k

Warnings: smoking pot, descriptions of blood and violence, out of body experience, brief self-harm mention, smut, oral sex (f receiving), vaginal sex, rough sex, possessive sex, unprotected sex (kinda), creampie, blood kink, pain kink, virgin!eddie munson, loss of virginity, and monster fucking (technically)

A/N: sorry this took so long! life just got in the way for awhile. also, since i already wrote a tender lovemaking scene in tell me we'll never get used to it, i wanted to do something... different for this one. as you can see from the above warnings. so read at your own risk lol.

but thank you to everyone who’s read, commented, and/or reblogged! ❤️ it really meant a lot to me. and i hope you enjoy this last installment. :)

Taglist: @sushihousebread @localdepressedvampire @alienthewolf @frozenhuntress67 @honeycovered-bandaids @sashaphantomhive @sidthedollface2 @harrys-tittie

Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! 🙏🏼

“Are you done yet?” Eddie asked with his eyes glued to your mouth.

Instead of responding right away, you took another slow hit off the joint he’d rolled, and Eddie was pretty sure you were doing this shit on purpose now.

The two of you were stretched out on the bed in the master bedroom, which was dim and shadowed, and as you inhaled, the end of the joint flared orange, casting your face in sharp relief.

“No,” you finally said, your voice strained while you held the smoke in your lungs. When you exhaled, your lips curled into a lazy smirk. “Are you pouting?”

“No,” Eddie pouted, causing you to snort. After a long moment, he ripped his gaze away from your teasing grin and looked into your hooded, bloodshot eyes instead. “You’ve just been nursing that thing for like, ever, Obi.”

“I lit up less than five minutes ago,” you scoffed and gestured to the clock on the nightstand, which read 10pm. Ash fluttered off the joint between your lax fingers, and you grumbled, brushing it away before you settled more comfortably onto the pillows propped against the headboard. “You’re just impatient, Munson.”

“You would be, too, if you had to wait,” Eddie groaned, and he would have flopped dramatically onto his back to pout at the ceiling if it weren’t for the giant leather wings growing out of his spine. As it was, he settled for propping himself up on his elbow while he tried to guess how many hits you had left.

Given his many years of expertise, he would say three, unless you let it burn. Like you were doing right now as you smiled at him with amusement.

“Well, I’m sorry your delicate sensibilities won’t let you partake in the Devil’s Lettuce,” you teased, but you didn’t look sorry at all, raising the rolled paper to your mouth and sucking in another lungful of smoke.

A week ago, the subtle, joking dig at Eddie’s “delicate sensibilities”— namely the fact that he was a goddamn knock off vampire— would have never crossed your lips, but you both had grown more comfortable with the state of things in the intervening days. In fact, living with you in the house your mother abandoned felt strangely… normal. At least Eddie thought so, but he’d never really had a “normal” life, so he couldn’t truly compare it to anything. Still, he’d been… happy here, with you. Every morning, he woke up with you cuddled against his chest, and then he would sit at the kitchen table with you and Wayne while he watched the two of you eat breakfast. At some point, Henderson and some of the other rugrats would come over, or Harrington and Buckley, and then the days were spent watching movies, trying to get everyone to agree to a DnD campaign, or even testing out Eddie’s new abilities.

You didn’t like that last activity. In fact, you’d banned all future experiments two evenings ago after Eddie let Dustin and Wheeler Jr. coax him up into the tallest tree in the backyard while Lucas was distracting you and Harrington. Eddie knew you wouldn’t like it, but you’d said no roofs, not no trees, and he just really wanted to see how well his wings worked. Turned out, not very well, because he’d flailed through twenty feet of air before he crashed into the dirt, but he did learn that his new vamp body was pretty sturdy, which, hey, that was cool.

All this to say, Eddie was mostly okay with how things were right now. He didn’t even mind the blood drinking very much, because, well, he got to put his mouth on you, and even if it was objectively kinda gross, he had to admit your blood tasted divine. It was so damn good he didn’t even miss food for the most part. He’d had other blood, too, after Dustin pointed out that feeding only from you could make you anemic, which Eddie wouldn’t stand for. He would eat fucking rats or starve before he hurt you. Before it could come to that, though, the whole gang had gotten together and made some kind of crazy damn pact— and even crazier schedule— so they could all donate blood “to the cause.” The cause being Eddie’s perpetual hunger. He’d tried to refuse at first, but Henderson would not take no for a goddamn answer, and the butthead just bought over a small jar of his blood one morning, brandishing his bandaged palm and demanding his own jar of Magic Spit in repayment.

The kid’s blood was good, and so was Harrington’s, and Buckley’s, but Eddie still preferred yours by a large margin. And fuck if he wouldn’t kill for the ability to drink a beer or smoke a joint. He’d tried, of course. The beer had tasted like rancid piss— much more than usual anyway—and the joint wasn’t half bad, but Eddie quickly realized he couldn’t actually get high.

Unlessss he drank from you after you had smoked. He’d discovered this by accident, after you’d gotten some Purple Palm Tree Delight from the older Byers boy. It wasn’t exactly the same, but your infused blood did make Eddie feel more calm and almost sleepy. Which he definitely needed right now. A mild headache had set up camp behind his eyes all afternoon, probably because he hadn’t “eaten” since this morning, but he could admit he was also jonesing for a high.

Speaking of…

“Okay, that’s it, I’m calling it,” Eddie said as he sat up, plucked the roach from your fingers, and leaned over your body to stub out the embers in the nightstand ashtray.

“Hey,” you tried to grumble, but it turned into a giggle as his long hair brushed over your face and neck. Then your hands came up, coaxing through his curls until you found the tips of his pointed ears. You stroked them tenderly, giggling again as they twitched under your fingertips, and Eddie suppressed a shiver when he realized how close you were. Since he was shirtless, the hot line of your body was pressed into his side, your chest rising and falling calmly beneath his with only the thin shirt you wore as separation.

Pulling back, he looked down to see you smiling lazily at him, your fingers trailing from his ears and ghosting over his jawline until they settled against his lips. You tapped at them until they parted, and then you poked gently at one of his fangs, enough that the tip pressed into your skin but didn’t draw blood.

“You’re pretty, Munson,” you murmured as your bloodshot eyes roved over his face.

Eddie blushed, or at least he thought he did, but the feeling was slow and cold instead of quick and hot. Your lips always got a little loose when you were high, but ever since the two of you had confessed sharing… mutual affections, your filter burned to ash anytime a joint touched your mouth. You were always complimenting him— saying how handsome he was, pretty, beautiful— and at first he thought it was a joke, because he’d always been an awkward, gangly motherfucker, and the goddamn bat wings didn’t help matters. But the look in your eyes was sincere every time, like they were right now, which felt even stranger.

Since Eddie didn’t know how to accept praise in any form, he deflected with a joke, like he always did.

“Pretty fucking weird, you mean,” he scoffed and flared out his wings a little for emphasis. You frowned, like you always did when he was self-deprecating, but he swooped down and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips as a distraction.

And because he could. It still blew his mind that he could just… kiss you now, whenever he wanted. So he did it often.

You sighed as his mouth brushed over yours, and your hands came up to curl around his neck. Eddie tilted his head to deepen the kiss, but you pulled back, pressing your head into the pillows until your glassy eyes could find his.

“I happen to like your weirdness,” you said, and Eddie realized he hadn’t successfully distracted you after all.

“Well, sweetheart, hate to break it to you, but that’s because you’re a bit of a freak, too.” He smirked, still going for the joke, but his heart skipped a beat when you grinned back at him, wild and elated.

“Good. We’re two freaks in a pod. Two birds sticking together because we have matching, fucked up feathers. Or however that saying goes. Whatever. Your weirdness matches mine, Munson. And that makes me happy.”

As far as grand, romantic speeches went, yours wasn’t winning any Oscars, but Eddie felt his throat tighten all the same. Fuck, he loved you. He loved you so goddamn much. And the fact that you apparently felt the same way still seemed like a dream.

One he never wanted to wake up from.

“Just don’t get too matchy-matchy with me, Obi,” Eddie said as he leaned down and nuzzled his nose against your jaw. “We can’t both be growing wings because we definitely won’t fit in this bed anymore.”

“And that would totally be the worst part, because this bed is awesome,” you laughed, your fingers finding their way into his hair again. “So I’ll do my best to not grow wings.”

“Constant vigilance is key,” Eddie muttered, but he was somewhat distracted as he nosed under your chin, inhaling your sweet scent. “They can really sneak up on you. Sneaky little fuckers.”

“Mmmm,” you sighed, obviously not listening, and you tipped your head back to give him more room.

Now, Eddie’s face was tucked into the crook of your neck, and instantly the hunger he’d tried to suppress jumped to the forefront of his mind. His teeth started to itch, saliva building in his mouth, and the thud of your pulse beneath his lips was like a siren song.

His hands clenched involuntarily into fists on either side of your head, claws catching on and tearing the pillows, and he heard your heart skip a beat as your fingers stilled in his curls.

“Hungry?” you asked.

Eddie wanted to refuse, wanted to say he had more self-control, but couldn’t. It would be a lie, and you had made him promise to never lie about this stuff.

“Yes,” he said reluctantly, but the word came out half growl, and he quickly cleared his throat.

He didn’t want to scare you, never wanted that, but you just stroked your fingers through his hair and smiled up at him when he pulled back. Your expression was easy, unafraid, trusting, your calm scent only confirming your emotions. Eddie didn’t know what he ever did to deserve your trust, but he vowed he would die before he betrayed it.

“I guess I have been teasing you. I was maybeee taking my time with that joint. Sorry.” Your smiled turned a little contrite, and you bit your lip apologetically, which made Eddie’s teeth and cock throb in time.

Fuck, you drove him crazy in so many ways.

Eddie opened his mouth to say he didn’t think you were all that sorry, actually, but a line of drool suddenly dripped from his fangs, splattering against your collarbone. Your breath hitched along with your pulse, and Eddie would have apologized if your scent didn’t abruptly grow a little deeper, warmer. His dick twitched again when he recognized the scent of your arousal, but then again, it wasn’t entirely foreign to him.

In the last week, the two of you had engaged in a fair share of heated makeout sessions, and you did have that wet dream three nights ago. That had nearly killed him, waking up in the early hours of the morning to you whimpering and writhing in the circle of his arms. Eddie almost fucking came in his pants when you’d gasped out his name, and he had wanted nothing more than to wake you up, roll you onto your back, and pick up where your dream left off.

But he couldn’t. Not like this. With his claws and his fangs and his animal hunger. Eddie had imagined his first time with you— hell, his first time in general— a thousand different ways, each more romantic and ridiculous than the last. But none of them had included him being a goddamn monster. And he was afraid that if he gave in to one base desire, the others would seize upon the opportunity, and he’d already awoken from several nightmares where he had gone too far and hurt you, even killed you.

He refused to make that a reality.

The hazy dream-memory of your gaping throat and betrayed eyes tempered the edge of his hunger— and his cock. With this new found clarity, Eddie pried himself off you and moved to sit cross-legged at your side instead.

“Can I… have your arm?” he asked quietly, swallowing a mouthful of saliva.

Your teasing expression immediately grew serious but not frightened, and now you actually looked sorry. Possibly a little embarrassed, judging from the faint blush that spread across your cheeks.

“Of course,” you said as you extended your left arm, which was cast free now.

It turned out, Eddie’s magic spit could heal broken bones, too, as long as he bit deep enough. He hadn’t wanted to test it at first, but between the pain he saw in your face every time you bumped your cast, and Dustin nagging him to test the limits of his new ability, Eddie had caved, sliced your cast off with his claws, and sank his fangs deep into the underside of your wrist. He’d hated the way you whimpered at the pain, hated that he was the cause of that sound, but it had been worth it, in the end. The bone in your wrist healed, and after, he did the same for your fractured ribs, but that was a tad more awkward, so Dustin had left the room. Still, the grateful smile you’d given Eddie was enough to chase away his lingering insecurities about being such a freak.

Now, he gently cradled your forearm between clawed fingers, feeling the saliva collect in his mouth as he watched the veins pulse beneath the thin skin of your wrist.

“It’s okay, Eddie,” you murmured, like you always did.

He didn’t realize he’d been subconsciously waiting for your permission, but he felt a knot of tension unravel in his chest as he bent over your arm. He feathered a kiss over your skin, just like he always did, but then his hunger reared its ugly head again, and a moment later he was sinking his fangs into your forearm.

Eddie heard you inhale sharply, but everything faded into white noise as your blood pulsed over his tongue. It was warm, borderline hot, but smooth and silky. He had the distant thought that it tasted… richer, deeper, than usual. Maybe it was the weed, or maybe he was just that hungry, but the observation floated away as he swallowed and swallowed and swallowed.

An eternity passed— or maybe it was only a few seconds— as he gorged himself on your blood, but all too soon, the fingers of your opposite hand brushed over his cheeks, his nose, pushing his bangs back so you could get to his brow.

“M’kay,” you sighed, voice airy and light. “That’s… probably enough, Ed.”

The familiar nickname was enough to draw Eddie back into his body. Previously, only Wayne had called— been allowed to call— him that. But ever since his uncle moved in, you’d picked up the habit of calling him ‘Ed’ now and then, the two letters falling from your lips so simply, like you’d been saying them all your life and would continue to for years to come. Eddie would be lying if he said it didn’t do something wicked to his heart every time.

Swallowing one last mouthful, Eddie detached from your arm, dragging his tongue over the holes he left behind until they shrank and disappeared altogether. When he was sure you weren’t bleeding anymore, he lifted his head and found you smiling at him sleepily.

“Better?” you asked, swiping your thumb over the corner of his mouth.

Eddie nodded, but the motion made his head spin a little. Your infused blood was already making him feel heavy, tired, and you seemed to realize this because you made yourself more comfortable against the pillows and opened your arms.

He went willingly, flopping forward onto his stomach but draping his left arm and wing over you. After a moment of finding the right position, he ended up with his head tucked into the curve of your shoulder while you lied on your back, his legs tangled with yours atop the covers because he got too hot underneath them. Your fingers idly traced over his tattoos before stroking the edge of his wing, and Eddie sighed as he relaxed further into the mattress.

“G’night, Munson,” you murmured into the shadowed room. There was still a faint light coming in through the ajar door to the attached bath, but neither you nor Eddie liked things fully dark. Not after everything that had happened.

“Night, Obi,” he yawned and pressed a kiss to the jut of your shoulder. His brain was sluggish, the cogs slowing turn by turn, so he didn’t even think twice when he added, “Love you.”

But he did hear how your heart stuttered, your breathing along with it, before your scent bloomed into something soft and happy.

“Love you, too.” It was no more than a whisper, followed by the ghost of a kiss against his brow, but Eddie smiled as sleep enclosed around him, feeling safe, loved, and at peace.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

When he next opened his eyes, he didn’t feel any of those things anymore.

Eddie bolted upright with a gasp, his breathing ragged, eyes darting around wildly. Fear was like a living thing inside of him, skittering through his veins, sitting bitter on the back of his tongue.

At first, he didn’t even know why he was so afraid, but as his surroundings solidified, he realized his instincts had been correct.

He wasn’t in your bedroom anymore, wasn’t wrapped up in your arms. He was alone, sitting on hard-packed ground, and everything around him was awash in red. The sky was filled with crimson clouds, broken only by bolts of scarlet lightning. The dirt and rocks beneath him were varying shades of vermillion, and he could see puddles of an unidentifiable liquid glinting like rubies in the otherwise barren landscape. A thick fog swirled through the air, veiling everything beyond twenty feet from where he sat, and Eddie felt his throat close up.

Where the fuck was he? How did he get here? And why… did it seem somewhat familiar?

Eddieeeeee.

The voice came from everywhere and nowhere at once. He couldn’t tell if he was hearing it with his ears or just in his mind, but it reverberated through his bones, making him vibrate as he leapt to his feet, jittery.

“Jesus H. Christ!” Eddie spun around to try and pinpoint the voice, but there was nothing. No one. Even so, his wings defensively flared out to their full width, and he was heaving for breath now.

Why the hell did this place seem so familiar? Why… why did he recognize that voice?

You didn’t think you had actually escaped, did you, Eddie?

The voice was taunting now, amused. It felt like someone was whispering in his ear, but when Eddie whirled around again, there was nothing but red fog and red sky and red dirt as far as the eye could see.

“Who’s— who’s there?” he demanded, but his sentence cracked halfway through, making the disembodied voice laugh.

The laughter was deep, dark. Cruel. It sent a shiver down his spine, his wings trembling in unison, and the fear he felt coursing through his veins solidified into a stone that sank to the depths inside him.

You know the answer, Eddie, the voice said, its tone mocking.

And fuck. Eddie did, didn’t he?

“V-Vecna,” he breathed, wishing he was wrong but knowing he wasn’t.

No. This is not one of your make-believe games, Edward. What is my name?

The voice was still mocking, but it took on an edge of anger, and the air seemed to grow thicker, heavier.

“One,” Eddie said, heart in his throat. “Hen— Henry Creel.”

There we go. A little slow on the uptake, but I guess that’s to be expected from a three time senior. From a freak.

Towards the end, Vecna’s voice bled into Jason Carver’s, and a moment later, the blond jock stepped out of the swirling red mist. He was standing ten feet away from Eddie, wearing his signature letterman jacket. But he looked wrong somehow, in a way that Eddie couldn’t pinpoint, and yet it made his stomach churn all the same.

“Y-You’re dead,” Eddie couldn’t help but stutter as he took a step back.

Jason grinned and flashed too many teeth, more than was possible, his cheeks tearing along the corners of his mouth, blood spilling down his chin.

“We have that in common then, don’t we, freak?”

Suddenly, a red line bloomed to life in the center of his chest, but it wasn’t blood. The line glowed, bright as molten metal, and carved Jason in half. He didn’t cry out, didn’t even seem to notice. He just stared at Eddie with dead, cold eyes as his torso slumped to the ground, and he continued to glare even with his body in two pieces.

“This is your fault, Munson. You killed me. Just like you killed Chrissy. And yet, you get to live. How is that fucking fair?”

“I didn’t kill anyone!” Eddie shouted, desperate like he could make Jason believe him. “I-I didn’t hurt Chrissy, I was just trying to fucking help her. And fuck you, asshole, you got yourself killed! I told you it wasn’t me. I tried to warn you!”

“Your fault,” Jason droned like Eddie hadn’t spoken, and then the red mist descended upon him, blocking him from view momentarily.

When it lifted again, Chrissy’s broken body was sprawled in the dirt, sightless, awful, the bloody holes where her eyes used to be seeming to stare at Eddie in accusation.

“Why— why did you leave me, Eddie?” she gargled past her broken jaw. More scarlet tears spilled down her cheeks. “I— I was so scared. Why did you leave me all alone in that trailer? I was still alive. You could have saved me.”

“N-No.” Eddie vigorously shook his head, even though guilt and bile were burning a hole through the back of his throat. “No, you— you were already dead. There wasn’t… I couldn’t—”

“Couldn’t do anything but run, huh?” a new voice asked, cigarette-rough and dreadfully familiar.

Eddie spun around to find his father sneering at him, his expression hateful, his blue eyes so like his brother’s but infinitely colder than Wayne’s.

“You’ve always been a coward, boy,” his father spat. “Always too weak. Good for nothing. Useless. I should have smothered you the day you killed your mama.”

Eddie had heard all of these things a million times before, but the barbed words still struck true, stealing his breath away. All of the sudden, he was a ten-year-old cowering in front of his drunken father, body bracing for the blow, ready to repent once again for the sin of being born.

“I-I didn’t kill anyone,” Eddie said a second time, but this time it was a whimper, almost pleading.

His father grinned, but when his eyes flickered milky and white, Eddie suddenly remembered that this was Vecna. This was what the tentacled fucker did, using a person’s worst memories against them. The phantom before him wasn’t really his father, wasn’t…

“You’re not real!” Eddie clenched his eyes shut and whirled away, stumbling and then sprinting as he reopened his eyes.

“That’s right, run away, you sissy!” his father roared after him.

You freak, Jason’s voice slithered through his head.

You monster, Chrissy whimpered.

“Shut up!” Eddie yelled, slapping his hands over his ears as he staggered across the barren landscape. “Shut up, shut up, shutup!”

All four voices— Vecna, Jason, Chrissy, and his father— laughed in unison, the sound taunting, almost pitying.

Eddie tried not to panic, tried to think of solutions. Fuck. Fuck. Okay, what did Max say about the visions? How did she evade Vecna before? Besides running, which Eddie was already doing, already so goddamn good at.

“Think, you dumb son of a bitch!” Eddie cursed himself, nearly tripping over a rock in the process. He overcorrected, forgetting about his wings, and went down to one knee and one hand, fingers dragging through the red dirt.

Vecna laughed again, the noise grating against every one of Eddie’s flayed nerves and forcing him back onto his feet, but it also brought with it a revelation.

Laughter. Happy memories. That’s how Red hid last time.

Okay, happy memories, happy memories…

“Shit!” Eddie whined when all that came to mind was Chrissy’s broken body, Jason’s hateful face, Dustin sobbing over him as he bled out in the Upside Down—

Wait! Henderson, he could think about Henderson.

Desperately, Eddie summoned the image of the kid’s grinning face, framed by curls. Dustin wrestling with him in that field outside town. Dustin cheering over a win during Hellfire. Dustin being picked up at Hellfire by…

You.

All at once, your face flooded Eddie’s thoughts, forcing him to a halt, but that was fine. Because he was recalling your smile that day he walked out of Hellfire to find you waiting for him in the parking lot. Your smile when you stepped out of the woods at ten years old, with tear stains on your cheeks and mud on your knees. Your smile when he last saw you, sleepy and pliant in the bed he shared with you.

The tidal wave of memories drowned out the dread rising inside him, made him feel centered again, calm, if only for a moment.

But when Eddie opened his eyes, he was still standing in the red, rocky no man’s land, lightning splitting the crimson sky above him.

This… this wasn’t right. Max had said she’d been able to actually hide in the good memories, like she was physically in them again. So why was Eddie still here? Were the memories not happy enough?

No, that didn’t make sense. Eddie didn’t have a lot of happy memories, and almost all of them included either you or Hellfire. Was he not… remembering hard enough?

Clenching his eyes shut again, Eddie held his breath like that would help him concentrate. Or teleport. Or whatever needed to happen to get him the fuck out of here.

Seconds passed, then nearly a full minute, and finally Eddie was forced to exhale, raggedly drawing in uneven breaths as he opened his eyes and saw nothing had changed.

“What the fuck?” he panted. “Goddamn it, come on!”

“Were you actually expecting to get something right for once?”

The sound of your voice made him gasp and spin around, even before he processed the fact that he had never heard that snide tone from you.

Your expression was equally foreign once he faced you, lips pulled tight in a mocking sneer. The usual softness in your eyes was also gone, replaced by such disgust that it made his stomach roll over itself.

“Obi,” Eddie breathed because he couldn’t help himself. The small, logical portion of his brain was screaming at him that this wasn’t you, but it was still your beautiful face, and maybe he was pitiful, pathetic, but it was you.

“God, I’ve always hated that stupid fucking nickname,” you scoffed, and it felt like an arrow to the heart. “Star Wars, seriously? Did you really think I could love someone as weird as you? I pitied you, Munson. I pitied the little trailer trash poor boy whose daddy beat him so stupid he can’t even graduate high school. The virgin freak. But then again, who would want to touch you? I sure don’t. That’s why I was so relieved when you died, but then you had to go and fuck that up like you do everything else, huh?”

With the accuracy and sharpness of a Rouge wielding a dagger, you threw every silent fear and insecurity Eddie had right back in his face. And he was pathetic enough that it stole his breath for a moment, made him want to sink to his knees, but out of nowhere, the night you chased him, barefoot and half blind, through the woods sprang up in his thoughts.

I prayed to every god that I don’t believe in to bring you back, to give me just one more minute with you. Fuck, Eddie. I love you so goddamn much that it nearly killed me to lose you. So don’t tell me I’d be better off. Don’t you fucking dare.

That’s right. You loved him, really loved him, even though you shouldn’t, even though Eddie didn’t fucking deserve it.

But that didn’t matter. Because you loved him, and until he drew his last breath, he was going to try and be worthy of that love.

So, Eddie whirled away from Vecna-You, clenching his eyes shut one last time and throwing himself into recalling the sensation of falling asleep in your arms, willing himself to wake up.

Vecna’s laughter split the air again, coming from everywhere and nowhere.

Oh, Edward. You are amusing. Did you really think Maxine’s parlor tricks would help you? They didn’t even save her in the end.

“Shut up,” Eddie gritted out as he snapped open his eyes. He was trying to come off as brave, fearless, but he knew he was failing miserably.

Besides, Vecna went on like Eddie hadn’t spoken, you’re not like Maxine. Not anymore.

Eddie knew he shouldn’t play into this twisted fucker’s game, but he couldn’t help himself.

“What… what do you mean?”

You know what I mean. Shall I remind you?

All at once, a dozen vines shot out of the mist around Eddie, latching onto his arms, his legs, his wings. He cried out as they pulled in opposite directions and hoisted him up into the air. He struggled, writhing and bucking and yelling profanities, but it was useless.

Helplessly, he watched as the vines positioned him over one of the glinting ruby puddles, flipping him so he was facing the viscous-looking fluid. Eddie tried to close his eyes, but tiny roots wound through his hair and down his forehead, wrenching his lids back open.

You can’t hide from the truth, Vecna’s voice crooned in his ear while the vines forced Eddie to look at his reflection.

To face the terrible truth.

The surface of the puddle was unnaturally still, so Eddie could see the image of himself, suspended by vines, crystal clearly. Could see his massive wings with their barbed talons, stretched painfully to their maximum. Could see the claws curving out of his starfished fingertips, each one wrapped in vines that pulled so tightly, all his joints were on the verge of popping.

But then Eddie’s gaze locked onto his parted, panting mouth. The fangs, beginning to drip with saliva. The black pits of his eyes, and the dark veins starting to spiderweb down his cheeks.

Hunger abruptly exploded to life in his gut, as if ignited by his monstrous reflection. The hunger Eddie had lived with the past week was perpetual, never ending, but he had found ways to control it, ignore it.

This hunger wouldn’t be ignored. It was all-consuming, overwhelming, like it had been the first night Eddie woke up. Came back to life. He was starving, burning, withering away. He needed. Needed something to soothe the pain, something to take it away, something to quench it.

And this is the truth, Vecna’s voice whispered as the vines moved Eddie again, lashing him to a pillar of stone like a witch tied to a pyre. You are not like Maxine, not like any of the other ants in your world. Not anymore. You are a spider, like me. And like me, you are tied to this hungry world, this ‘Upside Down,’ as you children called it. You cannot run from me, Edward, for one simple reason:

You cannot run from what’s inside you.

As the words reverberated through Eddie’s skull, ringing like church bells, like funeral bells, like the chiming of a clock, Vecna stepped out of the mist in front of him, approaching with his hand outstretched.

“No!” Eddie tried to snarl, but the word was gargled through the saliva filling his throat. His teeth burned, itched, throbbed in time with the still chiming clock, and he could barely move an inch as the vines pulled all his limbs just up to the point of tearing.

Vecna was in front of him now, smirking as his fingers brushed Eddie’s forehead, but for just the briefest instant, his face flickered like a glitching VHS, revealing a ruined mess of charred tentacles and teeth bared in a perpetual sneer through the gaping hole in his cheek.

It seemed Harrington’s team and Eleven had done a number on him, but Eddie couldn’t even feel the triumph of it, because Vecna’s claws were suddenly digging into his skull, drawing an agonized shout from deep within his chest.

Don’t fight it, Eddie.

Just give in. Give in to the hunger.

Feed.

And make us stronger.

Eddie’s eyes rolled back into his head, and Vecna’s laughter chased him into the darkness.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Hunger.

That was the first thing he was aware of. The only thing. It was sharp. It burned. It hurt. Everywhere, always, like needles in his skin. Like teeth.

Hunger, sharp as a blade. Overwhelming hunger. Hunger neverending.

The pain of it forced a snarl from his lips, but when he sucked in his next breath, all of his senses were assaulted at once.

Blood. Hot and pulsing so close, so very close, the sound of its slow glug blotting out all else. The smell of it was all-consuming. It riled up the animal pacing inside him, the wildfire turning into an inferno, the pain into agony. Saliva built on his tongue and dripped from his lips, and his fingers unconsciously clenched, claws tearing into soft flesh.

Feed. The word exploded through his head, reverberating, commanding.

That, plus the scent of freshly spilled blood, made him miss the soft sound of a gasp, but he didn’t miss the way his prey jerked in his arms. He tightened his grip even further, eliciting a whimper, and the aroma of blood was briefly masked by the sour stench of fear.

“E-Eddie?”

The sound of your voice was simultaneously like a bucket of cold water to the face and a hot brand searing across his brain.

Eddie suddenly snapped into consciousness but not back into his body. It was like he was floating over the bed, looking down at how his claws had dug into the meat of your hips, blood staining your sleep shorts and the sheets. You’d somehow ended up on your side, with your back pressed to his chest, and your wide, terrified eyes were staring over your shoulder.

Staring at him. At the monster he’d become, with black pits for eyes and a snarling, fang-filled maw… that was currently going for your neck.

No! Eddie struggled against his invisible bonds, trying to force himself back into his body, but then a very familiar laugh rang out.

Don’t fight it, Edward, Vecna said, just like he did in the Upside Down dreamworld. There’s nothing you can do. Just let go. It will be so much easier.

Fuck. You! Eddie spat and renewed his struggles, but the sound of your whimper drew him up short.

He was still hovering outside his body, so he was able to see the tears sliding down your cheeks as you tried to look back at him, but one of his hands left your hip and violently pushed your head to the side, revealing the soft skin of your throat.

You cried out and jerked again, but stilled when his claws dug into your scalp and waist.

“Ed, this isn’t you.” Your words were panted, made harsh by your ragged, fearful breathing. “I-I know you’re still in there. Come back to me. You don’t want to hurt me.”

I don’t! Eddie screamed desperately but silently, because as he stared at himself, his lips only parted to reveal saliva-coated fangs. Obi! Fuck, fight back!

Oh, but she won’t, Vecna crooned gleefully. We both know she loves you too much. She’ll let you drain her dry before she lifts a finger against you.

No! Eddie said again, but this time it was more of a sob than a snarl. He could do nothing but watch helplessly as his fangs continued to descend toward your neck, almost in slow motion, and he wondered if Vecna was dragging this out just to torture him.

Vecna laughed again, as if in confirmation.

Love, he mocked. Humanity’s greatest weakness. You loved this girl to the point of selfishness, served her up on a silver platter. Now you must suffer the consequences.

Eddie abruptly snapped back into his body. He could hear your pounding heart roaring in his ears, could smell the heavy cloak of your spilled blood, the sharp note of your fear tainting it slightly. You were hot and rigid in his arms, pressed tightly against him, and Eddie tried to rip himself away, but he still wasn’t in control.

His arms moved without his permission, shoving you onto your front. You gasped in surprise, but he was on you before you could move, straddling the backs of your thighs. One of his hands pinned your head down and shoved your face into the pillows, and the other hand ripped down the collar of your overly large sleepshirt. The curve of your throat and shoulder beckoned him, but when he leaned over you, with his breath fanning over the nape of your neck, you suddenly came alive, bucking and thrashing.

“Eddie, don’t!” You craned your head around, completely ignoring the way his claws tore into your scalp, spilling more blood. Your wild, begging eyes locked with his. “Don’t do this! This is Vecna, fight him!”

I’m trying! Eddie moaned, but his body didn’t listen, wrestling you back into submission.

Vecna laughed again.

Always trying and always failing, the bastard taunted. The Eddie Munson story. There is no other version, no other ending. Just submit to it, to your destiny.

“Don’t listen to whatever that ugly fuck is saying!” you shouted like you could hear Vecna. Your wrists were pinned to the small of your back, Eddie’s claws slicing your skin as you continued to struggle, but now the sour note of your fear was replaced with white-hot rage. “He’s lying! Whatever he’s spouting is bullshit! You’re not a monster, you’re Eddie Munson. My Eddie Munson. So tell that bastard to get fucked! Come back to me, Ed!”

A feisty one, isn’t she? Vecna remarked, his tone merely amused. If only she was the one who had turned. I could have used that ire. Oh, that’s an interesting idea. What do you say, Edward? Should I spare her life so you can bring her to me? So she can join us?

The sudden image of you with fangs and black, soulless eyes flashed across his mind. Then it was both you and Eddie, feral and wild, tearing through Dustin, Harrington, the rest of the party. Bathing the world in blood.

This way, you could keep her, Vecna whispered, and his voice was suddenly soft, enticing. She would be yours, unable to refuse you. Wouldn’t you like that, Edward? You can keep your precious Obi. All you have to do is say yes.

Abruptly, full sensation returned to Eddie’s body, and he twitched his fingers involuntarily, but he twitched them. He could move again. Vecna had given him back some control.

And for a brief, terrible instant that Eddie would feel guilty about forever… he was tempted. He was so goddamn tempted. He wanted to say yes, to stop fighting, to make the pain go away. To have you, and never have to let you go.

But Eddie would not condemn you to hell because of his own selfishness.

He would die first.

Before Vecna could realize his plan, before you could say another word or move another inch, Eddie suddenly ripped one of his hands off you and sliced his claws across his own throat.

NO! Vecna roared, but the sound was fainter, more removed, and Eddie found he had full control of himself again.

Get the fuck out of my head, Eddie spat, and with all his mental might, he shoved Vecna into a dark corner of his mind. He envisioned erecting stone walls and a metal gate to keep the bastard out, and it must have worked, because he could hear Vecna banging on the door, trying to get in.

But the wall held steady.

“Shit, Eddie!”

Your hands were suddenly on him, pressing into his throat, and Eddie distantly realized that he could feel the sluggish pump of his cold blood through your fingers.

“O— Obi,” he gargled. “It’s… me.”

“Yeah, I know it’s you, asshole!” you snapped, but you smelled scared again. He also couldn’t see your face through his blurry vision, but the air filled with the salty scent of your tears. “Fuck, why’d you go and do that, Ed? I said fight him, not— Jesus Christ. You cut so deep, and you’re healing too slow. Is this— can this kill you? Shit, Munson. You need blood. You need to feed—”

“N-No!” Eddie coughed out, air wheezing out of the holes in his throat. He could still faintly hear Vecna, could feel him trying to break in again. Trying to find the flaw in Eddie’s defenses, the poor weld, just a little crack to slip on through. “No… blood. Not… safe.”

“Because of Vecna?” you asked, and Eddie managed the barest hint of a nod as your fingers clamped around his neck, trying to stem the flow of blood. “That’s— that doesn’t matter. You pushed him out once, right? You can do it again. We’ll… we’ll figure it out, but fuck, Munson, I can’t— I’m not letting you goddamn die! Not again. You hear me?”

Eddie tried to come up with a response, but his brain was going fuzzy, his vision tunneling. Darkness crept in along the edges, but before it could envelop him entirely, something red-hot and delicious dripped into his mouth.

Blood.

He reacted on instinct, lips latching onto skin, teeth digging in to find more of that sweet nectar. The world revolved around him, and he heard you gasp, but it was all so very far away. All that mattered was your blood washing down his throat, soothing the burn and ache within every inch of him. With every pull, he felt a little stronger, a little more coherent, but Vecna’s voice also grew louder.

Yes, drink her dry. Drain her. Kill her. Kill, kill, kill.

The chiming of a clock filled Eddie’s ears again, but he tried to ignore it. Because even though Vecna was all but shouting in his goddamn head, Eddie was still inside his body. The walls in his mind were holding. He was in control. Not Vecna, and not this fucking hunger.

With one last swallow, Eddie was able to tear his mouth away. Blood scattered off his lips, and when he opened his eyes, your wide ones were staring back at him. Or rather up at him. He was hovering over you on the bed, with his palms planted on the mattress beside you, and his hips were pressed into the cradle of your pelvis. Both of your hands were tucked against your chest, slick and glinting with his saliva, not a drop of red to be found anywhere on your forearms even though he knew he had sliced up your wrists earlier.

Shit, how much of your blood did he drink?

There was still a lingering hint of fear in your gaze, in your scent beneath the iron aroma of your blood, and guilt sucker punched Eddie in the gut. Your face was pale except for the dried rivulets of blood on your brow, having dripped down when his claws scratched your scalp, and he tried to tear his eyes away but couldn’t.

Because, fuck, the hunger was still there, just below the surface, and no matter how hard he tried to shove it down, it lingered, scratching at his skin from the inside. It felt like a million ants were trying to rip their way out of him, eating away at his resolve, and Eddie could hear the distant echo of Vecna’s mocking laughter.

You can’t run from what’s inside you.

Yeah, well, I’m the champion of running, so you can fuck right off, Eddie mentally growled, but he was sure it came off as weak, no more than a whimper.

Shit, his mouth was so full of saliva, his tongue chasing the phantom taste of your blood. That animal hunger inside him yowled, angry at being denied, charging at the cage of Eddie’s self-control, and the bars were already shaking, bending, moments from snapping.

He didn’t know how much longer he could hold it at bay.

“Obi,” he gasped out as his eyes locked with yours. Goddamn it, he wished Wayne was here, but the older Munson had left this afternoon with Hopper to stock up on weapons from a store in Indianapolis, and they wouldn’t be back until morning. Just Eddie’s fucking luck. “Shit, you need to— fuck, you need to go. Get out of here and barricade the door behind you. C-Call Harrington, tell him to bring that goddamn bat, a fucking flamethrower. I can… try and hold Vecna off until—”

“Until what?” you asked, the fear in your eyes suddenly replaced by stubbornness, frustration. “Until I bring Steve back here to barbecue you? I’m not letting him fucking kill you, Munson.”

“You have to,” Eddie snapped and subconsciously bared his fangs. But when your heartbeat stuttered, and your throat clicked around a dry, fearful swallow, he tucked his teeth away. He needed to get away from you, so he tried to push himself up, but your arms wrapped around his neck and kept him locked in place. “Obi, let go.”

“No,” you said. Your tone was even, calm, but your quickening pulse was anything but. It made Eddie’s teeth ache, made Vecna start pounding on the gate in his mind even harder. Made the animal beneath Eddie’s skin rocket to the surface, straining under his skin.

“Obi, I’m not fucking around,” he gritted out past his clenched jaw, and he glared down at you. “Vecna’s gonna break free any second now, and he wants me to kill you, tear you to pieces, or worse, and I-I might not be able to stop again. It… fuck, it hurts, just being so close to you. Please. Let go.”

“No,” you said a second time and frowned around the word. “Because the moment I let go, you’re going to book it out of here and try to kill yourself in the woods or some other stupid shit because you think it will protect me.”

Goddamn it. You knew him too well, could always read every thought that passed behind his eyes.

Eddie knew it was pointless arguing with you, but he also knew he was running out of time. His eyes were locked onto the hollow of your throat, watching as it fluttered with your pulse, and Vecna was still rambling at the back of his mind, telling him to feed, to kill, to bring you to him.

So, instead of asking again for you to release him, Eddie just shoved himself up, thinking he could break the hold you had around his neck.

But you were always so fucking stubborn, and your nails dug into the skin of his nape as your legs snaked around his waist and tightened. Now, Eddie was kneeling in the center of the bed with you clinging to him like a leech, and his wings flared out for balance as his hands subconsciously went to your thighs to support you.

In this position, your throat was inches away from his mouth, and he wanted to scream at you for being so stupid, for trusting him and his strength so blindly. But before he could say anything— before the animal inside him could lunge out and bury his fangs in your neck— you shifted ever so slightly, and your core rubbed right over his crotch.

The heat of you momentarily derailed his hunger, and Eddie couldn’t stop the small moan that slipped past his lips. He may be a monster, but he was also a twenty year old virgin, and fuck were you warm.

You froze at the sound of his moan, and then you leaned back a fraction, your eyes finding his. With your brow slightly furrowed in confusion, you shifted again and tightened your legs around his waist in the process.

Eddie involuntarily bucked his hips forward, startling a moan out of you this time.

The buzz of Vecna’s voice grew angrier yet fainter, receding to the back of Eddie’s head as he stared at your mouth, at the way you dragged your tongue across your lips.

“Is this… is this helping?” you asked, barely above a whisper, like you were afraid to startle Eddie.

Or just afraid of him in general.

But when he sucked in a deep breath, the acrid scent of your fear was fading, being replaced by something warmer, sweeter, familiar.

Shit, you couldn’t seriously be—

“Ed?” you murmured and drew his eyes to yours. Then you repeated yourself. “Is this helping?”

“No,” he said automatically. “Yes. Fuck, I dunno.”

“Well… do you still want to kill me?”

Yes, Vecna hissed from the shadowed recesses of Eddie’s mind.

“Not… as much,” Eddie said aloud, swallowing only half a mouthful of saliva this time. The hunger was still inside of him, but it felt like it was transforming into something else. The throbbing in his teeth didn’t vanish entirely, the majority of it merely migrating further south, and you inhaled sharply when you felt his cock twitch between your legs.

Shit. Fuck. This wasn’t happening.

But while Eddie internally started to panic— well, panic even more— your expression was calm, considering. Then you bucked your hips into his, clenching your legs around him, and a growl rippled out of Eddie’s chest.

“Obi, stop that,” he said as he ground his teeth.

“But you said it was helping,” you argued, stubborn as always.

And fuck if you weren’t right, as always.

Your scent, edged faintly with arousal, was turning his bloodthirst into something else. And as the hunger for your blood receded, so did Vecna’s voice, until it was nothing more than an inaudible whisper.

Eddie almost wanted to weep with relief, but he couldn’t because you suddenly leaned forward, brushed your mouth against his, and poked the tip of your tongue through the seam of his lips.

He moaned, your mouth like a hot brand, and a different hunger suddenly filled his veins like molten magma. It was just as wild, just as animal, and images of him pinning you to the bed and fucking you like a beast flashed across his thoughts. It scared the shit out of him, enough that he pulled away from you. But you wouldn’t let him go far, your fingers tangling in his curls, keeping his brow and nose pressed against your cheek.

“Obi—” he tried, but you cut him off.

“It’s okay,” you murmured, shushing him as you stroked his hair. “I-I think I understand. You need something to distract you from the hunger, right? I can do that.”

“Christ, you’re not a fucking distraction,” Eddie groaned, but it was hard to string thoughts into sentences when you were warm and wrapped around him, smelling oh so sweet. “I’m not going to f-fuck you just to tune this bastard out. I… can’t.”

“But you could,” you whispered as you dragged your lips over his brow, pressing a chaste kiss to his temple. “I can tell he’s not talking to you anymore, so that means this is working.”

“Yeah,” Eddie breathed, his eyelashes fluttering closed as he dug his nose into your cheek and inhaled. Your softness, your scent, it was grounding him a little, but it was also driving him fucking crazy. God, his dick ached. “He’s… it’s like I built a wall and stuck Vecna behind it. Can barely hear him now.”

“Good,” you sighed. Your scent grew lighter, almost floral, with relief, and you feathered more kisses across his brow, the bridge of his nose. “That’s so good, Ed. You are so strong, I love you so much. Thank you for coming back to me.”

Eddie shivered, a whimper cowering in the back of his throat. Your praise made him want to cry, but at the same time, it tightened the coil of arousal in his gut, almost to the point of breaking.

“Fuck,” he rasped out as he clutched you to him, rolling his forehead against the line of your jaw. “Love you, too, love you so goddamn much. Which is why I can’t— I can’t—”

“But you’re still hurting,” you said, voice soft and pained, like you were the one who was suffering. “I can tell, Ed. Your eyes and the veins around them are still black, which means you’re hungry. But you’ve already had enough blood, so why not try something else?”

“Stopping offering yourself up like a goddamn bag of Doritos,” Eddie said, and he was going for angry, but his tone was just this side of pleading. He drummed up enough strength to pry his face away from yours, and he fixed your with his strongest glare, which was admittedly pretty weak since you didn’t even blink. “I’m not… I don’t want to hurt you.”

He’d said that so many times, and yet here you were, with blood drying all over your skin, drawn by his claws. It was pathetic, really, just like it was pathetic that he was still holding you against his abdomen, with your legs around his waist. He was strong, physically, so much stronger than you. He could have ripped you off, thrown you on the bed, and been out the door in seconds.

Yet here he was, with desire still burning away at his restraint, with his cock hard and pulsing and pressed between your legs.

“You stopped before.” Your words drew his attention back to your face. You were smiling, your eyes proud for some fucking reason, and you shifted one of your hands out of his hair so you could cup his cheek. “Eddie, you stopped before, even with Vecna physically controlling your body. You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for. I-I just don’t want you to hurt anymore. I want to help you. Please.”

You punctuated the last word with a kiss against the corner of Eddie’s mouth, and he whined, long and high, his claws digging into your thighs. He pressed harder than he intended, and the delicious scent of your blood washed over him again, faint, no more than pinpricks, but devastating for his self-control.

Still, he couldn’t help but throw one last Hail Mary.

“I-I don’t want our first time to be like this, Obi,” Eddie said, tipping his head back to stare at the ceiling, praying to a god he didn’t believe in for strength. “We— I had it all planned out. For weeks, months, fuckin’ years. Was gonna take you on a nice date, Enzo’s probably, or a picnic at Lover’s Lake, maybe a daytrip to Indy if I could get the money. Pay for a delicious dinner, dance with you in the moonlight and all that romantic shit because y-you deserve it, you deserve everything and more. Then I would have taken you back to the trailer, which I would have cleaned top to bottom, and laid you out on fresh, brand-new sheets. I wanted to take my time, make it good for you, because I love you and I’ve been dreaming of this moment since I first learned how my dick worked. And this… this won’t be like that. I— shit, it already feels like I’m on fire, and there’s this animal inside me that just wants to pin you down and fuck you—”

Eddie cut himself off and sucked in a ragged breath, shame crawling through his veins and momentarily overriding the hunger and heat.

“Shit, I’m sorry, I—” he started, but before he could spiral any further, you placed your fingers over his lips. He glanced up at you through his bangs, bracing himself for your disgust, but he found you blushing, with your lower lip caught between your teeth.

Fucking Christ, you smelled delicious. His head felt like it was made of cotton by this point, and your voice was muffled and faint when you spoke again, so he tried his damndest to concentrate.

“I would love to go on a date with you, Munson, and do all that romantic shit.” Your lips quirked into a teasing smile, and one of your hands slipped over his shoulder to brush softly over the curve of his wing, making him shiver. “And we will have many other chances to take it slow, because I also want to take you apart piece by piece. Been dreaming about it myself for a while. But I’m definitely not opposed to you fucking me, either.”

The vulgar word falling from your mouth ignited Eddie all over again, especially when you bucked your hips, pulling sharply on his curls at the same time.

“Obi.” Your name came out half-snarl, half-whine, and Eddie felt like he was dangling over a precipice, his fingers losing purchase one by one.

“It’s okay, Ed,” you murmured as you stooped down, pausing with your lips just a hair’s breadth away. “I want this, want you. I trust you, and you’re not going to break me. So just take whatever you need.”

That was the final straw that broke the camel’s back.

With an almost audible snap, Eddie’s remaining tether of restraint disintegrated, and he smashed his mouth against yours.

You gasped in surprise at his sudden ferocity, but Eddie barely even heard it as he tipped you backwards and pinned you to the mattress again. A rushing, roaring noise filled his ears as he shoved his tongue past your parted lips, and a growl rumbled in the depths of his chest when you sucked on the invading muscle. Your legs were still wrapped around his waist, so he could feel you hot and pulsing against his abdomen, and the sensation burned away all his good sense.

Tearing his mouth from yours, he knelt back up and just ripped your shirt away like it was made of paper.

“Ed!” You started to cover your chest, a furious blush blooming across your clavicle, but Eddie snatched up both of your wrists and pinned them above your head. His wings aggressively flared out behind him, and he could see the reflection of them in your wide eyes.

“Mine,” he snarled mindlessly. Normally, he wasn’t so assertive unless he was DMing, but the animal inside him held the reins now, and he was just along for the ride.

Thankfully, your scent didn’t sour with fear. If anything, it grew deeper, richer, as your arousal heightened, and your eyes were dark with lust as you stared up at him.

“Yours, Ed,” you whispered, and your body went completely lax beneath him, the ultimate sign of trust. “All yours.”

At your declaration, Eddie’s dick kicked in his sweatpants, and he dove down and slanted his mouth over yours, kissing you with all the fiery passion he felt building in his gut. When he pulled away, your lips and chin were wet with his saliva, but his eyes quickly fell to your heaving, bare chest.

Fuck, he needed to taste you. Needed to mark you.

Even in his wild state, he knew he should avoid your neck, so Eddie quickly slid down your body until his face was hovering over your tits. They were beautiful, perfect, peaked with delectable looking nipples. He couldn’t stop himself from leaning down and dragging his tongue over one of the nubs, causing you to gasp as your fingers tangled in his hair.

“S-Shit, that feels good, Ed,” you breathed and arched your back, pressing your breasts further into his face. “Don’t stop.”

Your pleading tone, bordering on whimpering, spurred Eddie on, and he latched his lips around your left nipple, sucking harshly and groaning as he felt the blood rush to the area. It pulsed hot and heady beneath your skin, and Eddie sucked like he could get it to come out if he tried hard enough.

Then you jerked in his grasp, your hands pressing him down harder, and one of his fangs nicked the tip of your nipple.

The few drops of blood that coated his tongue drove him wild, overshadowing the twinge of guilt that twisted in his chest.

But the sounds you made shoved him off the damn edge.

“Ah! F-Fuck, just like that, Ed— ohhhh, shit!”

You broke off with a whine when Eddie switched to the other side, and he was barely even thinking anymore as he dragged his fangs over the swell of your right breast. Twin lines of blood marred your skin for an instant before his tongue lapped everything up, and by the time he wrapped his lips around your other nipple, his saliva had healed you.

All the while, your scent grew headier, fogging up his brain, and he wasn’t even aware that he had moved again until his lips brushed cotton instead of your warm skin. Then he lifted his head and realized he was lying between your thighs, and when he glanced up your body, he saw fading bite marks littered your saliva-slicked chest and belly. You were panting and staring down at him between your heaving breasts, and your pupils were blown with lust, not a trace of fear to be found.

“Gorgeous,” Eddie rumbled, two of his synapses connecting to form that single word, but then his brain shorted out again when you flushed from the face down. The smell of your pounding blood and burning arousal flooded his senses, and he growled as he latched onto the waistband of your shorts and panties, tearing them both right down the middle.

He flung the scraps of fabric away, and he didn’t waste any time in prying your legs apart, settling between them, and dragging his tongue through the folds of your pussy. He had to taste you, needed to devour you.

“Oh!” You bucked so sharply beneath him that your mound collided with his fangs, but before the pain could even register for you, his tongue was lapping up the blood.

In a distant part of his mind, Eddie was aware of the fact that he had no idea what he was doing. His sexual experience was limited to his hand, his active imagination, and the dirty magazines that used to be stuffed under his bed. But his body was operating on instinct, so when his nose nudged your clit and you spasmed, he immediately shifted up and wrapped his lips around the slick bud.

“Fuck, Eddie!” you gasped as your legs tried to close in around his head, but he slapped his hands against the inside of your thighs and pushed outward, giving himself some more space as he positively feasted on you.

Christ alive, your pussy was the best thing he had ever fucking tasted, even more so than your blood. Your arousal was hot and slick on his tongue, smeared across his chin as he alternated between sucking on your clit and slipping his tongue down through your folds. When he prodded at your entrance, a high-pitched whine echoed out of you, ringing in his ears. He wanted to hear that sound again and again, for the rest of his life.

Eddie was seized with the sudden desire to feel you wrapped around his fingers. He pulled back, a line of saliva briefly connecting him to your slick cunt before it snapped, but then his eyes fell to his fingertips. His blackened talons were pressed into the meat of your inner thighs and had pricked the skin, and he absently swiped his tongue over the beads of blood, causing your breath to stutter. For a split second, he mourned the fact that he couldn’t slide his fingers inside you, but when you sighed his name and arched your hips, he decided it didn’t matter.

“You’re gonna cum on my tongue,” he muttered. He wasn’t even speaking to you necessarily, more to himself, but you moaned all the same.

“Please, Ed,” you panted, twining your fingers through his long hair. Then you gently pulled him forward, and he went oh so willingly.

A groan rattled in the back of his throat once he tasted you, and you whimpered when his tongue bullied its way past your folds, teasing at your entrance for a moment before pressing in. You cried out wordlessly, but Eddie dug his fingers into your thighs again so you couldn’t pull away. Then, with that roaring sound filling his ears, he proceeded to fuck his tongue as deep as it would go, and the walls of your pussy fluttered around the intruding muscle.

Eddie growled at the sensation, swirling his tongue around and distantly listening to you squeal. Fuck, you were so tight, so hot, nearly burning him, but he didn’t even care. He just dug his face further into your mound, nose pressed firmly to your clit, and he worked his jaw as he fucked his tongue into your cunt again and again.

Despite his hands pressing down on your inner thighs, your whole body started to spasm and buck with pleasure, causing his fangs to nick you every now and again. But the minor pain only seemed to rile you up more. Your hands were clutching his curls at the root, and through the roaring in his ears, Eddie could hear you babbling.

“O-Oh, fuck, right there, Ed, so good, I— shit! Don’t stop, don’t stop, I think I’m gonna— fuck! I’m gonna cum, oh god, I’m cumming! Eddie!”

Your back bowed dramatically as your hips thrashed, almost dislodging him, but Eddie bore you back down to the mattress as he continued to tongue fuck you through your orgasm. Your walls fluttered and clenched sporadically, and his whole face was practically coated in your juices when you finally sank back into the bed.

Then Eddie lifted his head, saw you sprawled against the sheets, panting, red-faced. The inside of your thighs was drenched in his saliva and your own arousal, and your pussy was puffy and swollen, still quivering with aftershocks.

He could almost hear the flick of a switch as his higher reasoning turned off, and a moment later, he was swept away on a tidal wave of burning lust.

The only thoughts in his head as he shoved down his sweatpants were inside, need to get inside, or maybe he was saying the words out loud, because you used your feet to help push the pants past his calves. Moments later, Eddie was pinning you to the mattress, mindlessly rutting his hips into yours as he seized your mouth in a rough kiss and shared the taste of your orgasm.

You whimpered around his tongue and kissed back just as fiercely, nicking yourself on his fangs and pushing the blood back into his mouth. Eddie snarled, his thoughts a whirlwind of take, take, take, and he dragged his hands down your body, latching onto the outside of your hips and tilting them upward. He rutted forward again, and when his cock slid through your wet folds, your groan nearly eclipsed his.

“Fuck,” Eddie hissed through gritted teeth.

Your pussy was so hot against his erection, nearly scalding. The sensation bordered on pain, but the sweet kind, and the whimper you made when he bumped against your clit was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard.

But when he shifted back and thrust forward again, the head of his cock caught on your entrance. Everything inside him was screaming to take you, to fuck you through the mattress until you were begging him to stop, and his whole body went rigid as he fought against it. His arms started to shake where they were propped on either side of your head, and he could barely meet your eyes because his own kept rolling into the back of his skull.

“S-Shit, tell me it’s okay, Obi,” he begged. “Tell— tell me you want this, please, fuck.”

His whole body was vibrating now, his control and sanity walking a tightrope above the endless abyss of his lust. The animal inside him wanted to just fuck you, claim you, but he loved you, loved you so fucking much, and as much as it felt like it might kill him, if you told him to stop right now, he would. He would have to nail his hands and feet to the floor, but he would stop himself, do whatever it took to keep you safe.

But you didn’t tell him to stop. Instead, your legs wound around his waist again, and one of your hands came up to cup his face. The brush of your thumb against his cheek centered him for a moment, and he was able to open his eyes and meet yours. There was no fear in your gaze, no hesitation or doubt. Just pure desire, love, and trust.

“It’s okay, Ed,” you murmured. “I want you inside me, want to feel you. Please. Take me.”

Take me.

The words exploded through his head, drowning out all else, and Eddie snapped his hips forward while staring deep into your eyes. He wanted to see the expression you made when he split you apart, and he wasn’t disappointed. As his dick pushed its way past your entrance, your face rippled, eyes widening before clenching shut. Your mouth hung open in a silent moan, but that wasn’t good enough. Eddie needed to hear you, needed to hear how good he was making you feel, so he pulled his hips back until just the head of his cock was stretching and tugging at your hole. Then he bucked forward again, and his pelvis met yours with a resounding clap as he bottomed out in your cunt.

“Fuck!” you shrieked, throwing your head back as your walls clamped down around him.

A distant part of Eddie was worried that he’d hurt you, but that part of him was not in control of his body, because he didn’t even pause before he started thrusting into you, rough and hard.

A million curses tumbled through his head, but all that came out of his mouth were wordless growls. You were so hot and wet and tight around him, nearly strangling his dick, and every time he bottomed out, you somehow grew even tighter and wetter.

The roaring in his ears was deafening now, but he could faintly hear you beneath it, your voice cracking around every thrust.

“Oooh, Ed— f-fuck! Right there, right— ah!— there. God, you feel so good, baby, so deep, so— shittttt!— big.” Your nails raked down Eddie’s spine, catching on his wings, and your nipples were rubbing against his chest as you arched beneath him. “Fucking me so good, Eddie, love you s-so much, don’t— hnnnnng— don’t stop, please!”

Eddie had no intention of stopping now, didn’t know if he even could. Your pussy was like a black hole, sucking him right back in every time he pulled out. He was pounding into you so hard that you were jolting up the bed with every thrust, and he had to brace one of his hands against the headboard so you didn’t smash your skull open.

The sounds of the bed frame smacking into the wall, the wet sloshes from your cunt, and your continuing whimpers and babbling soon overrode the rushing noise in Eddie’s ears. It was like a symphony of pleasure, and he harmonized with his own grunts and growls.

Then he used one of his hands to drag your knee further up his ribcage, changing the angle, and his next thrust made you wail. Your whole body went taut, and Eddie watched as your eyes rolled back into your head. The walls of your pussy fluttered rapidly around his dick, and he knew you were close again.

Pulling out so the head of his cock stretched at your entrance, Eddie took a deep breath and found his voice again.

“Cum for me, Obi.” It came out as a growl, an order, and when he slammed forward again and buried himself to the hilt, you obeyed.

“Eddie!” you screamed as you came around his cock, and the way you thrashed, the way your pussy locked down around him, the tears glittering on your eyelashes, it all shattered him into pieces.

Eddie fucked you through your orgasm, fucked you like the animal inside him wanted, and he didn’t know where to look: your blissed out face, your bouncing tits, or the creamy ring you had made around the base of his dick. Then your heels suddenly dug into his ass cheeks, pulling him impossibly deeper, and Eddie collapsed on top of you. His claws shredded the pillow on either side of your head, but he barely noticed, rutting into you once, twice, before he was cumming deep inside your still quivering cunt.

Eddie groaned long and loud as he pumped you full, and you whined at the feeling, clenching around him. Your tight walls milked him for all he was worth, but it wasn’t enough, the ember of lust still smoldering at the base of his spine. He thrust against you helplessly, feeling his cum leak out around his cock, dripping into his pubes, but the sensations only fanned the flames in his belly.

“Fuck, Obi,” he gasped as he continued to rut into you. His mind felt a little clearer, but not by much, his thoughts slow and difficult, his speech even more so. “Christ, I— how do you feel so… f-fucking good? Can’t… get enough. Want you, want you so much it hurts, shit. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry—”

“S’okay, Eddie,” you panted, your breath hitching when you realized he wasn’t growing soft inside you. Your hands carded through his hair, tracing the points of his ears, and you leaned up to press a kiss to the edge of his mouth. “Love you so much, baby, you made me feel so good. You can keep going, it’s okay, just take want you need.”

“Fuck,” Eddie snarled and bowed his head. His long hair formed a curtain around your face and swayed back and forth as he started thrusting in earnest. The wet sounds coming from between your legs were lewd, filthy, and suddenly the desire to see his cum leaking out of you seized Eddie by the throat.

He gave you one more hard thrust, punching a weak moan from your lungs, before he pulled back. His still hard cock left your pussy with a slick slurp, and you whined at the emptiness, but the whine turned into a gasp when Eddie suddenly flipped you onto your stomach.

“Ed, what—” you started to ask as you glanced back over your shoulder, but Eddie wasn’t even listening, tugging you up onto your knees and spreading your thighs so he could look at you.

Your pussy was puffy and swollen, your inner thighs slick with your own arousal, but Eddie’s eyes were locked on your lips and the stream of his white cum that was leaking out between them.

He did that. He marked you so deep you won’t ever be able to get him out. Dark satisfaction purred through his chest, and the animal inside him was pleased but not satiated. His cock was still hard and throbbing, slick with Eddie’s cum and your own juices, and he needed to be inside you again, needed it like air.

So he knelt between your spread thighs, hiked up your hips so your ass was in the air while your chest was pressed to the mattress, and then he lined himself up and bottomed out in a single, brutal thrust.

“Fuck, Eddie!” you shouted in surprise, but that was the last coherent thing you said as Eddie started pounding into you from behind.

His mind was completely gone now, wiped clean by the tight clutch of your walls and the sight of you spread out below him like a buffet. Your ass jiggled every time his hips slammed into yours, and you were white-knuckling the sheets, muffling your screams of pleasure into the pillows.

Eddie’s hands were wrapped around your hips as he fucked you through the mattress, and blood bloomed around his claws, the scent heady and thick below the aroma of cum and sex. Without even thinking about it, he spat onto your lower back, using his fingers to smear the saliva into the cuts on your waist and watching as they healed.

You cried out at the sensation and shoved your ass back to meet him on his next thrust, and Eddie swore he hit the back of your throat.

“Shittttttt,” you sobbed as your body jolted with each vicious snap of Eddie’s hips. Then he yanked your waist up higher, and he must have hit that special spot inside you because you cried out again, a spasm running through your limbs as your pussy clamped down around him. “O-Oh, fuck, right there, right— ah! I think I’m— you’re gonna make me cum again, Ed. Oh, shit, you’re— I’m cumming, fuck!”

You started to thrash until Eddie flopped forward, pressing his chest into your spine and shoving you flat onto the mattress.

“That’s it, cum for me, Obi, cum on my cock. Fuck, you feel so good.” He continued to rut into you as you came, and you climaxed so hard you pushed his cock right out. He thrust blindly between your thighs a few times before his head caught on your entrance, and then he slotted himself home again, causing you to wail with sensitivity.

You tried to squirm away but couldn’t with his weight bearing down on you, and something about your vulnerability struck him low in the gut. Eddie felt his balls tighten as he pounded into your sopping wet pussy, and you whimpered as you finally went lax beneath him.

“Eddie,” you whined on a particularly deep thrust, and your fucked out voice made his cock throb deep in your cunt. “Ah! C-Cum inside me, baby, want to feel it again, please!”

“Yessss,” he hissed as he quickened his pace even further, digging his toes into the mattress and flapping his wings for more leverage. The tip of one of his wings knocked the lamp off the bedside table, but he didn’t even care as he felt your walls start to quiver again. “Gonna fill you up, Obi, gonna mark you as mine, mine, mine!”

He punctuated each “mine” with a brutal thrust, and when he felt your walls lock down around him again, the coil in his gut snapped. He snarled as he bottomed out inside your pussy, and you moaned and threw back your head, baring your neck to him. Mindlessly, Eddie lunged forward and sank his fangs into the curve atop your shoulder, and you screamed and abruptly orgasmed for the third time, dragging him along with you.

Eddie repaid every swallow of your blood with another pulse of his seed deep within your cunt, and his vision blacked out as pleasure overrode his senses.

In the black nothingness, Eddie suddenly heard Vecna’s voice again, slithering from the shadows.

Kill her, he whispered, and his ruined, fucked up face flashed through Eddie’s mind.

But Eddie felt stronger than he did before, stronger than he ever had, and it was so easy to shove Vecna back in his cage and slam the door closed.

You don’t control me, Eddie spat into the darkness. I won’t be your Kas the Bloody-Handed. In fact, once I figure out how, I’m going to kill you for hurting Chrissy and Max. And I’m going to make you suffer for every drop of Obi’s blood that you made me draw. So count your fucking days, you ugly, tentacled fuck.

Eddie could faintly feel Vecna’s rage at being denied, but he ignored it as he opened his eyes and came back to the present.

Where he was currently panting against your blood-slicked shoulder.

The all-consuming hunger inside him had finally been satiated, sinking back into the depths like a well-fed sea monster. This meant he could think again, really process what was going on around him, and as reality crashed back in around his ears, guilt and bile immediately rose up in his throat.

“Oh, s-shit, fuck,” Eddie stammered as he shoved himself off you. His cock slid from your pussy with a lewd, wet sound, and you whimpered as he knelt over the backs of your thighs. His cum was dripping out of you again, staining the sheets, but Eddie’s wide eyes were glued to your naked back, to the drying blood that had dripped between your shoulder blades, the patches around your hips. Instead of making him hungry, the sight of the blood made him sick, and he started to hyperventilate. “Fuck, I’m so— are you okay? God, Obi, I-I hurt you. I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry, I didn’t mean— I tried— fuck!”

His wings flared out as he scrambled off the bed, and he teetered, off-balance. Before he could get any further, though, you suddenly flipped over onto your back, catching his hand and tugging him back down until he was half kneeling on the edge of the mattress.

“Wait, don’t go!” you said, and Eddie noticed your voice was hoarse and raspy from screaming. Your lips were also red and swollen, specks of dried blood on your chin and brow, more evidence of how much he’d hurt you. You should be terrified, should be running for the hills screaming, but your scent was thick with satisfaction, edged faintly with the same worry that was in your eyes. “Don’t run, Eddie. It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay,” he blurted out, unable to stop himself. He tried to tug his hand free from yours, but you merely tightened your grip, staring up at him with resolute stubbornness. “I— goddamn it, Obi, you’re fucking covered in blood. I tore you up—”

“But you healed me, too!” you argued, squeezing his hand. You wiggled up into a seated position, trying to hide a wince but failing. Eddie noticed, and you noticed that he noticed, because you immediately shook your head. “I’m fine, seriously. At worse, I’m just a little sore, which is probably mainly my fault, given how out of shape I am—”

“Don’t,” Eddie cut you off, his voice strangled. “Don’t make jokes. Not about this.”

A frown creased your eyebrows. “Okay, I won’t, sorry. But I need you to hear me when I say it’s okay. That I’m okay. You didn’t force yourself on me. You asked me multiple times, and I told you ‘yes’ multiple times. I wanted you, Ed. I-I love you. And I’m so happy that you came back to me again. The black veins are completely gone now, so you must have shut Vecna out, right?”

“Yeah,” Eddie muttered around the lump in his throat.

Your hand was still clutching his, and you squeezed it as you flashed him a blinding, radiant smile.

“That’s amazing, babe,” you praised, but then a blush suddenly stained your cheeks, and you averted your eyes. “Ahh, sorry. About the, um, pet names. They just kinda came out.”

Eddie blinked down at you, disbelief coating the ball of tangled, shitty emotions in his gut. “You’re… apologizing over pet names? After I just fucked you through your blood-stained sheets and nearly tore a chunk off your shoulder?”

“Well… yeah.” Your blushed only deepened, crawling down your throat and clavicle. “I’ve never called you ‘babe’ or ‘baby’ before, and you might not like it. But I, uh, definitely liked what, um, you just did. Really liked it. In case you missed the three screaming orgasms. Besides, I can get new sheets.”

Eddie stared down at you for an endless moment, his throat constricting around a million things he wanted to say. In the end, he bowed forward and rested his brow on the crown of your head, his wings curling around the two of you as phantom tears stung the backs of his eyes.

“You are insane, certifiable, and I love you so goddamn much, Obi,” he choked out. “I… really don’t fucking deserve you.”

“Hey, none of that,” you muttered as your hand squeezed his again, your other one coming up to cup his face. “I don’t take kindly to people talking shit about my boyfriend, Munson.”

A watery, broken laugh crawled up Eddie’s throat, and he pulled back enough to look down into your face again. You were smiling up at him softly, but the effect was ruined by the dried blood still caked to your forehead. He frowned at the sight, ghosting his thumb over a patch until it flaked off. Then he moved his hands to your shoulders and gently pushed you away.

“Lay back,” he said, and you obeyed instantly, no questions asked. A moment later, your naked body was stretched out over the rumpled sheets, and Eddie felt a phantom remnant of desire twist in his gut. He was still half-kneeling on the edge of the bed, and he dragged his eyes over your form, taking in the patches of skin that were still wet with blood, saliva, and cum.

Guilt and lust warred inside him, but he was apparently silent for too long, because your scent suddenly soured as you folded your arms over the soft swell of your belly. Eddie snapped his gaze to your face, confused by the discomfort and embarrassment he saw there as you stared at the ceiling.

“I, um, know I’m not much to look at outside the heat of the moment—” you started, curling further into yourself, and the dejection in your tone abruptly unfroze Eddie’s tongue.

“You’re beautiful,” he blurted out, and when your wide eyes met his, he couldn’t help but go on. “God, Obi, you’re the most gorgeous, incredible thing I’ve ever seen. Are you kidding? You’re so— you’re prettier than I ever dreamed, and I’ve dreamed about you naked a lot. I mean— Shit, fuck, forget I said that. What I mean is you’re like an ethereal Elven queen, and I’m a bumbling goblin. Or something with wings that I can’t remember right now. Like I seriously have fucking bat wings, and my face goes all veiny when I hulk out, and you were already so far out of my league to begin with—”

“Okay, okay,” you cut him off, but now you were laughing. Your eyes were bright, the shadows of insecurity receding, and your scent bloomed with floral happiness. “Why don’t we just agree that we are two super hot people who are both in the same league and are playing on the same team. Or… does that analogy work?”

“You know as much about sports as I do, sweetheart,” Eddie snorted, and he was smiling now, too. But then he shook his head and situated himself so he was sitting on the edge of the bed beside you. “Now stop distracting me with your charming wiles. I was trying to clean you up.”

“My charming wiles?” you giggled, but the sound was cut short by a soft inhale as Eddie leaned over you. “W-What are you doing?”

“Cleaning you up,” Eddie repeated, smirking softly before he opened his mouth and dragged his tongue over your forehead.

“Ed!” you squealed and halfheartedly tried to squirm away, but he chased after you.

“Stop running, Obi, and let me clean up my mess,” he huffed, his tone partially joking, but his eyes were serious when they met yours.

You stilled beneath him and swallowed, your scent warming slightly again. “Are you… will the blood be okay?”

“I’m pretty full right now,” Eddie scoffed, his tone only slightly self-loathing, but he flashed you a reassuring smile. “And I feel… good. In control. I won’t take anymore, I promise. I’ll just wipe off your skin and heal any still open cuts.”

“Okay, I trust you.” It was a simple declaration, but the sincerity in your voice and smile made Eddie’s throat constrict.

“Thank you,” he grunted, feeling undeserving, but he ignored it and flicked his tongue over your hairline.

True to his word, he didn’t bite you again, and even as he licked away your blood, he remained in control. He couldn’t hear Vecna anymore, but he could feel the bastard in the back of his head like a lingering itch. Eddie did his best to ignore the fucker as he cleaned you up.

He managed to wipe all the blood from your head, arms, and torso, but when he moved down to your hips, he suddenly froze above your splayed thighs. His gaze locked onto the cum that was leaking from your abused pussy, and realization slammed into him like a train.

“Oh, fuck, Obi,” Eddie gasped as his stomach bottomed out inside him, and not in a good way.

“What?” You snapped upright, your eyes wide, and he could hear your heart skipping a beat before it started to pound. “Is it Vecna? Is he coming back? Shit, what can I do?”

“No, no, it’s not… it’s not fucking Vecna.” Eddie shook his head, guilt bubbling up his throat again as he met your gaze. “It’s— I… came. Inside you.”

You blinked at him for a moment, and then some of the alarm faded from your expression, giving way to confusion. “Um… yes? Twice, in fact. I was there.”

“Shitttttt,” Eddie hissed as his hands came up to clutch at his hair. “Fuck, I-I’m so sorry, Obi. I wasn’t thinking, and I know that’s not an excuse, Uncle Wayne always said that was never a good excuse, and even if it was my first time, I should have remembered—”

“Wait!” Your jaw fell open, and Eddie could hear the breath hitch in your lungs. “That… was your first time? You were a virgin?”

“Obi, that’s so not important right now,” he groaned, burying his face into his hands and digging his claws into his skin. “I could have just gotten you p-pregnant. Fuck!”

Eddie recalled how Wayne had made a joke about a toddler with wings, and the possibility that it might happen now made him sick.

“Uh, first of all, it is important that this was your first time.” Your voice drew him out of his spiral, and he noticed that your scent saddened slightly. “And secondly, you can’t have gotten me pregnant because I’m on the pill. Well, I guess there is still a chance, but it’s like point five percent or something I think—”

“You’re on birth control?” Eddie snapped his head up.

“Yes,” you said with a nod, and a faint blush splashed across your cheeks. “For a couple years now. I, um, wanted to tell you, but I know you were trying to keep things PG-13 the last week.”

“Yeah, and see how well that went?” Eddie snorted with a hint of hysteria. The tension and guilt leeched from him body, though, and he leaned forward to rest his head against your shoulder. He was staring directly into your boobs from this angle, but he didn’t mention it.

“All things considered, I think tonight turned out pretty well,” you laughed as your fingers came up to stroke through his hair. Then you paused, and your scent grew hesitant, doubtful. “It was… amazing, really. Much better than my first time. At least for me. I— was it okay for you?”

Eddie blinked and lifted his head from your shoulder, staring at you with incredulity. “Obi, are you serious?”

You blushed and shrugged as you averted your gaze. “I dunno… you said it was your first time, and I know this wasn’t what you’d been envisioning. I don’t regret anything, not a thing, but… a part of me wishes I could have made it special for yo—”

Eddie couldn’t let you finish that thought, so he leaned forward and captured your mouth with his. This kiss was decidedly softer than any of his previous ones tonight, and when he pulled back, he sighed and rested his forehead against yours.

“Sweetheart, you literally just saved my life with your amazing, incredible pussy, I dunno how much more special it could get,” he muttered.

Then he laughed when you gasped and playfully slapped his shoulder.

“Don’t say it like that,” you chided, your cheeks bright red but your smile a mile wide. “You are seriously a perv, Munson, I’m surprised I didn’t notice it sooner.”

“Says the girl who got off on me biting her.” Eddie bared his fangs without thinking, and he didn’t miss how your scent deepened again before it turned embarrassed.

“See if I ever let you do that again,” you huffed, turning away from him and crawling across the bed, but Eddie chased after you.

“Wait, no, please, I was just kidding,” he said and wrapped his arms around you.

You wiggled but didn’t really struggle, and after a moment you relaxed back against his bare chest. Both of you were still naked, and all of your warm skin pressed against his finally unraveled the last knot of fear and unease in his gut. Eddie buried his nose in your hair, inhaling deeply so your scent burrowed into his lungs, and he softly ran his hand down the slope of your side, stopping at your hip.

“God, I love you, Obi,” he murmured into your ear, his throat feeling tight again. “Thank you.”

“For what?” you whispered as you snuggled back into him.

“For… everything. For making my first time as amazing as it could be, given the circumstances. For trusting me, for helping me. You said you were grateful I came back to you, but you were the one who brought be back. Who made me strong enough to fight off Vecna. You always center me, always bring me back when I think I’m too far gone. It’s you, Obi. Just you. Always you.”

Eddie squeezed you against him for emphasis, but you were suddenly squirming in his arms, so he loosened his grip and let you turn around until your face was inches away from his. There were tears in your eyes, the salty scent of them invading his nose, but your smile was soft and happy and loving.

“I’ll aways bring you back, Ed,” you whispered as you cupped his face between your hands. “So tell Vecna he can kiss my fucking ass. Because you’re mine. Just like I’m yours.”

Eddie felt his eyes burn with tears that would never fall, and he couldn’t help but lean forward and kiss you again. He tried to pour all his love into his lips, but he unfortunately got cut short because you suddenly jerked back with a gasp.

“Oh, shit!” you said. “I just realized we need to tell everyone Vecna’s back. Someone needs to check on Max, and fuck, Eleven and Will, too.”

You suddenly rolled away from Eddie, leaning over the edge of the bed to root around on the floor for, presumably, the walkie talkie.

“Uh, sweetheart?” Eddie spoke up as he tore his eyes from your naked back and looked to the alarm clock on the nightstand. “We should probably wait like an hour at least. It’s barely five in the morning, and I don’t think Vecna’s gonna make another move before the sun finishes rising.”

“Well, we didn’t think he was going to make a move in the middle of the night, either,” you said, popping back up with the walkie in hand. Then you settled against the headboard, and Eddie propped himself up on his elbow beside you.

“Alright, fair, but try Henderson first,” Eddie suggested as you reached up to turn on the walkie. “That kid never sleeps.”

You nodded, but you didn’t even have to hail Dustin, because the moment you flicked on the walkie, all hell broke loose.

“— repeat, I repeat, this is a code red!” Dustin’s squeaky voice screamed through the walkie. “Obi, Eddie, come in, goddamn it—”

“Language!” Steve shouted, followed by the squeal of tires and muffled cursing and yelling.

“Steve, can you keep your eyes on the damn road?” Dustin demanded.

“Not with you screaming in my ear, Henderson!”

“Please stop yelling,” Robin’s voice whined. “It’s too early for this!”

“Dustin, have you gotten ahold of Obi or Eddie yet?” Mike suddenly asked, but his voice was more staticky, like his walkie was further away.

“Would I still be screaming ‘code red’ if I had, Mike?” Dustin snipped. “Of course I haven’t!”

“Uhhh, actually,” Eddie finally interjected before someone could start shouting again. “Obi and I just hopped on. What, uh, did we miss?”

There was a beat of silence before everyone started yelling at once.

“Holy shit, I’ve been hailing you guys for almost an hour, where have you been?” Dustin screeched.

“Are you guys okay?” Mike asked at the same time. “El said—”

“Wait, you’ve spoken to Eleven?” you cut in, glancing over to meet Eddie’s eyes.

“Yeah—” Mike started to answer before Dustin cut him off.

“Why the hell do you think we’re all up at five in the morning?” the curly-haired boy demanded. “El and Will called and said they felt Vecna again, so we’ve been trying to round everyone up. Something’s happening!”

“Uhhh, yeah, about that,” Eddie said with a wince. “Something… already happened?”

“What do you mean?” Dustin asked before there was another squealing of tires. “Jesus, Steve, do you know the difference between the brake and the gas?”

“If you want to maneuver around the thousands of sinkholes to hell, then be my guest!”

“Guys, shut up,” Mike snapped, and Eddie could faintly hear Nancy chiding him in the background before he continued. “Eddie, what do you mean something already happened?”

“I mean that, um, Vecna… possessed me, maybe, a little,” he said as he bit his lip.

“What?” Dustin, Mike, and Steve shouted in unison.

“It’s okay,” you quickly cut in when Eddie looked at you for help. “Eddie managed to fight Vecna off, so we’re all okay.”

“Jesus Christ,” Dustin sighed, and Eddie could just picture the kid clutching at his head. “Okay, we obviously need to have a debrief. Steve, Robin, and I are on our way to your house, Obi. Mike and Nancy are picking up Will and El, and Lucas biked to the hospital to check on Max, but he’ll join us later. If Steve doesn’t drive us into a ditch, we should be there in a few minutes.”

“Everyone needs to stop complaining about my driving!” Steve huffed through the walkie. “It is five in the damn morning, I’m driving with no shoes on, and you woke me up screaming, Henderson! My heart’s about to leap out of my damn chest.”

“Excuses, excuses—” Dustin started to say before you suddenly cut him off.

“Alright, I’m signing off for now. We need to clean up, so we’ll see you in a few minutes.”

“Wait… Obi, what are you cleaning—”

You turned off the walkie before the kid could finish his sentence, and then you turned to Eddie with wide eyes that trailed down his naked body. Eddie’s eyes did the same to you, and after a moment of silent stillness, you both were scrambling out of bed.

“Shit, shit, shit, I need clothes,” you muttered as you ran out of the master bedroom in your birthday suit.

Eddie just grabbed his sweatpants off the floor and tugged them up his legs. He didn’t feel like struggling with his wings to put a shirt on, but the kids had seen him shirtless before, so he didn’t think it mattered. Then he followed you down the hallway to your own bedroom, where you still kept all your clothes. You were frantically rifling through the dresser and digging through the laundry basket, and you shot a glare over your shoulder when Eddie chuckled.

“This is your fault, Munson,” you said, huffingly tugging a random t-shirt over your head. Your thighs were still slick with Eddie’s cum, but you apparently ignored it as you yanked a pair of panties and sweats up your legs.

“I may have ripped your clothes, but you were the one who told Henderson we needed to ‘clean up,” Eddie snickered.

“Shut up,” you muttered with a blush, and you tried to comb your fingers through your tangled hair. “Do I look… presentable at least?”

Eddie fought back his smile as you stared at him imploringly. “Yes, sweetheart. You look like you just rolled out of bed instead of being fucked through it less than ten minutes ago.”

Your scent immediately deepened with a flare of arousal, and Eddie saw your blush extend down your neck.

“Okay, you definitely can’t say shit like that when everyone gets here,” you grumbled, and Eddie didn’t miss the way you clenched your thighs together. But then you were shaking your head and leveling him with a serious, narrowed-eyed look. “We also need to get our stories straight. I think we can just say you woke up with Vecna possessing you, you bit me, and then regained control. That sounds plausible, right?”

“Very.” Eddie nodded seriously even though he didn’t think it was a big deal if everyone found out what really happened. They all probably assumed Eddie had sex with you nightly, but he didn’t mention that.

“Okay, this is good, good,” you muttered absently, casting your eyes around like you were looking for something. You drew your lower lip between your teeth and started chewing on it, and Eddie finally stepped forward, laid his hands on your shoulders, and pulled you into his chest.

“Take a deep breath, Obi,” he said as his wings curled around you in their own cool, leathery hug. “It’s going to be okay.”

“You say that like you didn’t just give me the scare of a lifetime,” you grumbled into his sternum.

Eddie winced, guilt cropping up inside him again. “I know, I’m so sorry. I never want to make you afraid of me.”

“I wasn’t afraid of you.” Pulling back, you frowned up at him, and you wound your arms around his waist when he tried to step away. “I was afraid for you, Ed. I didn’t want Vecna to take you away again. I… I don’t think I can handle that.”

Eddie swallowed around the lump in his throat and reeled you back in for a tight embrace.

“I know this doesn’t hold much weight given what just happened,” he murmured into your hair. “But I don’t think Vecna has the strength to attack me again. At least not right away. He’s not able to reach out like before, and I think he could only reach me because we have some shitty Upside Down connection. Still, he had to wait until I was asleep to strike, and he obviously wasn’t able to control me for long. Which means he’s weaker. Weaker than when he killed Chrissy and the others. I also saw him, the real him, for just a second. He’s all fucked up, burned, charred. Harrington’s team and El really got him good. I think that’s why he hasn’t come through the gates yet, why he attacked me in my dreams. He’s vulnerable. So, when Henderson and the rest of the Scooby Gang get here, we’ll come up with a plan of attack and take out that bastard for good.”

You sniffled as you rubbed your face against Eddie’s chest, but after a moment, you pulled away and looked up at him. Your eyes were red-rimmed with unshed tears, but your expression was determined, resolute.

“And we’ll figure out how to get you back to normal,” you added. “Don’t get me wrong, I, um, obviously don’t hate the fangs and claws, but you promised me a public date when this shit is all over, and I’m holding you to that, Munson.”

“You’re always keeping me honest, sweetheart,” Eddie said with a grin, and he couldn’t help but pull you back in for one last kiss.

In the distance, he could suddenly hear Harrington’s car turn onto your street, could hear Dustin and Steve faintly arguing, and he knew that in a few minutes, it would be all hands on deck.

But for right now, in this moment, it was just you and Eddie, and Eddie knew he could face all manners of hell as long as you were with him.

Just you. Always you.

(And damn it if he wasn’t taking you on the best date in the history of mankind once Vecna was six feet under.)

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson/you #eddie munson/reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson/f!reader #eddie munson x y/n #vamp!eddie munson #vamp!eddie munson x reader #vampire!eddie munson #vampire eddie munson #kas!eddie munson #eddie munson angst

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ppersonna · 4 years

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wanna be yours - knj | m

if you like your coffee hot, let me be your coffee pot. you call the shots babe, i just wanna be yours - i wanna be yours, the arctic monkeys

↳ summary- your camping trip with your date namjoon goes south, leaving you to camp in your car. somehow, he helps you make the best of it.

↳ rating- explicit / 18+

↳ word count- 2.9k

↳ pairing- namjoon x reader

↳ genre- smut, fluff

↳ warnings- public sex, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (be smrt friends!), dirty talk, creampie, smutty fluff man it’s cute as shit

↳ a/n- hi friends! welcome back to another fun fic with lindy! i was in my feels tihs morning and this little piece came out. i hope you enjoy it! i also felt like making sure namjoon was well represented in more than just a hard dom way LOL. enjoy babies! feel free to comment, message me, etc etc. i love you!

The sunlight pours in through the car windows with no care of disturbing you. It shines bright on your face and heats your skin. It’s uncomfortable—too bright. But, you’re unwilling to move from the warmth and safety of the arms encircling you, so you accept the punishment of the too bright light and remain rooted to your spot.

Sleeping in your car hadn’t been in the itinerary for your impromptu camping date with Namjoon. In fact, you had promised a tent and homemade meals, a campfire, and s’mores. But the torrential rain and downpour that never ended as soon as you arrived at your campground washed away those plans.

You had been distraught—your very new relationship with Namjoon was important to you and you wanted to give him a memorable night. You wanted to show him how invested in him you were, how much you enjoyed being with him. You hoped the night would end with him making love to you and asking to be your boyfriend.

Instead, it ended huddled in your car—soaking wet and eating cold cuts from your cooler, and falling asleep from utter exhaustion of the day. No romance, no passionate lovemaking, only lumpy sleeping bags and open containers of cheese strewn about the car.

Namjoon groans in his sleep as he finally registers the cursed sun pounding into his skull. He wiggles around in the blankets, arms pulling you in tighter and grumbles about the sun being too noisy. It makes you laugh—Namjoon always makes you laugh, and it pulls him even further from his rest.

He cracks an eye open and looks down at you.

“What’s so funny, huh?” He teases. His voice is rough around the edges from sleep and it makes your heart beat too fast.

“You said the sun was too noisy,” you giggle as you press your face into his chest.

He huffs a laugh and tries to feign insult.

“It is!” His fingers dig into your armpits to tickle you, and it makes you squeal. The ensuing tickle fight fills the car with laughter and you squirm to get away from the onslaught. Namjoon turns you on to your back and hovers over you. He has you pinned, and you’re whining for mercy through your laughter.

“Okay! I give! I surrender!” You pout through the tears of your laughter.

Joon smirks in triumph and moves his hands down and away from your arms and settles them on your hips.

A silent beat passes and you find yourself lost in Namjoon’s heated gaze. It warms you more than the overbearing sun pounding through the glass of your four-door sedan, and you feel your cheeks flush from the stimulation.

“I’m sorry this camping thing didn’t really work out,” you mumble to dispel some fire in your chest.

Namjoon smiles down at you. His eyes glitter with something unreadable to you, but it makes your stomach jump, regardless.

“It was perfect,” he says. A hand comes up to stroke your head. “I got to wake up next to you. I’d say it was a successful trip.

Your throat loses the ability to function—you can’t breathe or form coherent words. It all dries up on your tongue as you peer into Namjoon’s sincere gaze.

“I want to be with you,” he whispers as he continues to stroke your cheek. “I’ve had the best time of my life over the last few weeks getting to know you. I’d like to make you mine.”

Namjoon sounds so confident, so sure of himself and his feelings for you. It’s intoxicating the way he’s able to be so open with his feelings. His bold first move to you so many weeks ago hooked you at the very start, and every overt attempt at continuing your blossoming romance pulled you further into his captivating orbit.

“I hope you feel the same way. I’d like to keep getting to know you for the rest of my life.”

His words melt straight through you—you’re certain your heart is a puddle now.

“I’d like that to,” you murmur in agreement. “I like you a lot.”

His megawatt smile lights up brighter than the gleaming billboards of Las Vegas and it stirs something inside you that has your core clenching.

“I like you, a lot, a lot.”

He doesn’t allow you to retort—instead he presses his lips to yours as he holds himself above your body.

The kiss is so sweet. There’s no tongue, no diving in for a taste quite yet. It’s careful, yet confident. He kisses you like he’s wanted to kiss you from the moment he set eyes on you. Even though you’ve shared kisses since your first date, this one feels familiar and yet so different. It feels like the start of something new.

You kiss him languidly, eventually allowing your tongue to slip through his lips and peruse the cavern of his mouth and slide over his own. He accepts it heartily and allows his own tongue to mimic your movements. You note that despite his morning breath, he still tastes like something spicy, something sweet, and all together Namjoon and it has you weak.

His hands move up your body, lifting at your shirt, and you’re eager to accept and let him undress you as his kissing turns hotter and more intense. He sucks on your lips and smiles as the shirt comes off easily and reveals your bare chest. You took your bra off the night previous and changed into a dry shirt, after spending an uncomfortable few hours in the rain trying and failing to set up a tent.

He’s mesmerized by your breasts and the way the yellow light of the sun spreads across your pink nipples. It nearly makes him salivate and you can feel a growing bulge in his sweats pressing into you. It causes you to feel even needier than you were before. You’ve wanted this since the moment you saw him, and now you would finally get your chance.

Namjoon lowers his head down towards your chest and eagerly laps at your tits, perky nipples slipping into his mouth and being swirled around his tongue. It shakes a groan out of you and makes your spine tingle. He’s smiling around your buds now; you can tell by the shape of his mouth against you, and it makes your own lips curl into a matching one.

The feeling of his mouth latched to your nipple has your core heated and you’re positive you’re soaking through the thin cotton panties covering you.

“Joon,” you sigh.

He doesn’t offer a response, only hums around the nipple in his mouth as his other hand comes to pinch and pull at the neglected one. He cups your breast too, squeezing the ample flesh there and enjoying the way it fills his palms.

“So good,” you encourage. He doesn’t need much encouragement other than your pleased moans, but he likes that you’re talkative and eager to provide.

He switches off, allowing the soaked nub to experience the pinch of his fingers as the other gets sucked into his warm mouth and nibbled on by his teeth.

“You’re so pretty,” he coos, eyes flickering between the reddened nipples and your blissful face. “I’m so lucky.”

Normally, you’d roll your eyes at such a cheesy admittance but now that you’re here experiencing his magic mouth on your chest, it feels less corny and more romantic than anything you’ve ever heard before.

“Joonie,” you sigh again. “I want you. Need you.”

You’re needy and unashamed of it now. You can tell by the pleased look on his face that he likes it so there’s no need to hide how you feel.

Your hand slips down to the growing bulge in his sweats and you grip it tight. It makes him hiss through his teeth and he nods quickly.

“Yeah, I can see that,” he moans. “I need you too.”

Your eyes stare into his—he nearly melts at your doe's eyes glossed over with adoration. He’s sure he could lose all track of time and reality in your gaze.

He’s tugging off your sleep shorts as quickly as he can, not bothering to take his time and unwrap you like a gift. He’s past that point now—you can blame your breathy and desperate whines for more for his haste.

You want to hide, to cover yourself, to not let your whole body be exposed in the blinding light of the morning sun, but when you see Namjoon gape at you like he’s just stumbled upon an angel, you feel the growing embarrassment stop in its tracks and retreat to the far, dark corners of your mind. Namjoon doesn’t care about the freckles on your legs, the way you feel your body is too much or too little in places it should be different. Namjoon is seeing you, all of you, and recognizes that he doesn’t think he’ll want anything else the rest of his life.

“I want to blow you,” you start as you sit up on your elbows. “But, I think… lack of space is against us right now.” Your cheeks flare red. You’re bold, but only just enough to get the words out. Now that they’re out, you feel the flicking flames of regret.

He pushes all embarrassed thoughts away with a sincere chuckle and a kiss to your forehead.

“I wanna eat you out for a month straight but I might break my leg trying to do it here. I think we’ll be lucky to do everything the old-fashioned way.” He winks at you. There’s no reason to feel stupid or too much around Namjoon. It’s as if he’s molded, body and personality, to be your perfect match. It’s complementary in nature and it spurs you into action.

“Fuck me, please,” you gasp. If he’s phased at all by your plea, he doesn’t show it. Instead, he smiles and presses you down to lie flat on the bed of your car. It’s not comfortable—the folded seats aren’t the world’s most comfortable bed, and the blankets and sleeping bags bunch under you awkwardly. But you don’t care. It simply doesn’t even enter your thought process to care. You’re too focused on how Namjoon is kissing you, caressing the skin of your obliques as he travels down to allow his finger to drag through the wetness gathering at the apex of your thighs. It pulls a loud moan out of you as he skims a finger of your clit and your eyes widen in blissful pleasure.

He smirks against your lips and removes his hands. He wants to play, oh does he ever want to play, but he thinks if he’s not inside you in the next minute or less, he’ll have an uncomfortable wet spot in his pants and some bruised dignity. You’re so hot like this he thinks he’ll definitely bust in his pants before he even gets inside of you if he’s not quick.

He pushes the sweats down, kicks them off to some corner of your car and continues kissing you.

He pulls away for a moment as he grips his cock.

“Shit, I didn’t bring any condoms.”

You bite your lip carefully. You should have thought ahead but you foolishly always believe the man would be prepared. He can tell by your features you’re lacking too.

“I mean, I wanted to bring some, but I worried you’d think I was presuming something and I didn’t want-... you know… I didn’t want you to think that’s all I was after.”

His confession makes you nearly cry and you’re thanking whatever god or higher power is up there that this beautiful, considerate, and honest man landed in your lap and soon, in your pussy.

“I’m clean,” you state. “I only have sex with partners. And it’s been awhile.” He leans down to kiss you but you interrupt one last time. “And I’m on birth control.”

He smiles at you and presses his lips to yours. It’s comforting and sweet and still carries the heat of before but it’s held to a simmer.

“I’m clean too,” he replies. “I actually have the printout of my test results last month in my wallet.” He blushes at his admittance. “Most guys carry condoms in their wallets and I just have my STD test results and a Costco membership.”

Uproarious laughter escapes both of you, and you cling to each other as you giggle together. Your stomach hurts from the force of your laughter and you have to wipe away a few tears as you come down.

“Maybe we can use that membership to get bulk amounts of condoms, then?” You postulate and it triggers another giggle session.

You’re not sure when the laughing ends and when his request for permission to slide into you starts, but you’re soon nodding your approval and allowing his thick cock to spear into you and stretch you wider than you think you’ve been stretched in your life.

You moan in unison, both overcome by the feel of your tight channel gripping his girth. Namjoon stills inside of you once he’s fully sheathed and he wraps a hand around the back of your head and lets you rest on it like a pillow.

“Fuuuuck,” he nearly whines. “Shit, you feel so good.”

You whimper a reply, non-verbal agreement that the way he slots himself inside of you feels better than anything you’ve felt before. He’s big and thick, and it feels like you’ve maybe bitten off more than you can chew but it mellows out to the perfect feeling of fullness and satisfaction.

You wiggle your hips to get him to move and he gets the hint. He starts a pace that feels slow and gentle. You arch your back into him, press your chest against his. The slow drag of his cock in and out of you is stimulating, it feels like it’s wired with electricity. He holds you tight, an arm snaking around your waist and pulling you even closer.

“That’s right, baby,” he praises. “You look so good under me. Taking me so well.”

Somehow Namjoon knew how much you needed the talking during sex, how you craved the interaction verbally as much as you needed it physically. It spurs you on, gets you even wetter and you clench around him. He notices and bites his lip. He’s being rewarded for his gentle dirty talk and he’s encouraged to do it even more.

He picks up the pace and clings to you, eyes flickering between your face, your bouncing tits and the way his dick disappears inside of you and reappears covered in your creamy essence.

“Oh, baby,” he groans. “You’re so good, baby. Look at you making my cock all creamy.”

It’s impossible now to hold back your cries of passion. He ups his pace, makes his strokes deeper and faster and it hits the spot inside you that makes your toes curl. It feels like your every pore is soaking in every aspect of Namjoon. Not only does your cunt accept him inside you, but your body craves to have him in your bloodstream.

“Yes, Joonie, yes!” Your hips match his pace and you’re spewing all the praise you can at the man above you. He feels so good inside you, feels like he’s lighting something you didn’t know was extinguished to begin with.

He pumps harder and moves his hands to your hips and grips tightly. He watches as he continues to drill into you and it hypnotizes him. The way you feel combined with the way your body sucks him in has him captivated.

Your combined breath heats the car, the windows steaming up from the heat in your pants. Your skin feels clammy and the sheen of sweat appears on Namjoon’s forehead but none of it fucking matters. All that matters is the way he pounds into you and pushes you closer and closer to the edge of euphoria that has you raking your hands on any surface of his skin you can reach, leaving trails of fire red lines in your wake.

“Close! Holy fuck, Namjoon!” You cry as your back tips up towards him again. The coil in your belly is tightening impossibly—it feels like you’re cresting an enormous tidal wave. “Gonna cum, Joon!”

Namjoon goes even faster, determined to make you hit your high when he does and he’s nearly there. Just a little more, a little longer.

The increase in speed and intensity does the trick for both of you and the loud echo of your moans ring through the small enclosure of the car. Namjoon pumps himself into your womb, suddenly grateful he knows you’re protected because he didn’t even comprehend a finish other than inside you. You’re spasming around him and it feels so impossibly tight, tighter than a vice grip, and it makes him whine needily as you milk his cock for all he’s worth.

It takes nearly five minutes to regain complete consciousness and the ability to speak again. Your breathing evens out from the heavy, gasping pants to light inhales. Namjoon falls to lie beside you, pressing you into him as he pushes his sticky, sweaty hair out of his face.

The sound of you laughing shakes Namjoon from his post-coital bliss. He peers down at your curiously.

“Okay, what is so funny?” He asks.

You snort as you point a finger behind him. He turns to look and sees an opened container of meat and cheese from your makeshift dinner the night before strewn about the car. There're pieces of lunchmeat and cheese everywhere, stuck to the sleeping bag and the car seats.

“We fucked on top of cheese.”

Namjoon can’t help but laugh as he pulls you in closer and nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck.

Yeah, he’s found the one. He’s sure of it.

#bts smut #bts namjoon #bts fic #bts fics #bts rm #bangtanarmynet #hyungsmutclub #ksmutclub #btswriterscollective #plotsofpastel #heartsforbts #namjoon smut #rm smut #bangtan smut

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little-diable · 4 years

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Please respect that this is my own work and I worked really hard on those imagines, don’t copy or edit stuff. However reblog, comment and like as much as you like. Enjoy my loves. xxx

Tom as Loki

God Stood Me Up (smut / angst, character death)

Death is supposed to collect the reader's soul, but what happens if he falls in love with her? Within a few moments the immortal being finds himself drawn to the young woman that invites him in, to find shelter while the sky is crying for her nearing death.

Morning (smut, tattooed reader)

Sweet lovemaking in the early morning

The devil's eyes (smut, personal fave)- Tom as Lucifer

Theology student (y/n) has to work nightshifts in a coffee shop to pay her bills. Lucifer is growing bored down there in his dark chambers, so he makes his way to earth, finding comfort in the coffee shop the reader works in. Maybe the two lost souls were bound to meet, one getting lost in his eyes, while the other finds himself obsessing over her.

Leather seats and poker chips (smut, personal fave)

Tom is the best friend of (y/n)'s father, for years they have been crushing on one another. Maybe the night of her birthday celebration will finally give them the push they have been waiting for.

Theatre nights (fluff/smut)

Request: can you write a smutty Imagine where he and the reader are doing it for the first time with eachother and the reader is a little shy and nervous and Tom is all Sweet?

This (fluff)

Request: could you write a fluffy and Sweet Imagine with Tom hiddleston where the reader has a moment where she randomly cries without having a reason for it and Tom Just comforts her?

Lightning (smut)

Request: Could you write a smutty Imagine for Tom hiddleston where the reader is scared of thunderstorms but hasn’t told him yet. One night during one she wakes up and shyly wakes up Tom to say she is scared. He distracts her, making out with the reader and they go further and Tom Just tries to take her mind of the thunderstorm

Faust (smut, professorxstudent)

Tom Hiddelston, a drama teacher, falls for his student, the fem!reader, a whirlwind of emotions, fluff, some angst and of course some smut

#Tom Hiddleston #Tom Hiddleston imagine #Tom Hiddleston smut #Tom Hiddleston x reader

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bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher · 4 years

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In the Dead of Night

Title taken from the same Judas Priest song as before, “Love Bites.”

tw: horny (duh), blood mention, consensual blood drinking, consensual mind reading, consensual mind control, dom/sub undertones but only vaguely

the mind control does not occur during the smutty bits, by the way. that shit is foreplay only and it is discussed at length by both parties (I just wanted to play with Dracula’s fun powers and also as someone said in my AO3 comments: “THRALL SEX! THRALL SEX!”).

THIS IS A SMUT, 18+ YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED

top!Jaskier, bottom!Geralt

please comment I am fucking begging you

---

“Geralt,” the silky voice called out to him. It echoed off the castle walls, pulling the lawyer deeper into a state languid, misty stupor. “Come to me, my love. Come to me, Geralt.”

The solicitor, whose mind was still half-convinced this was a dream, found his body moving of its own accord. He rose mechanically from the bed and crossed the enormous guest room, not even stopping to pull on his slippers or dressing gown as he should have. Nor did he brush his hair back into place; it hung in a loose white curtain, framing his eyes and jaw rather romantically.

Geralt stumbled through the keep like a drunken marionette, tied and tangled in the strings of some clever puppet-master. The drawling voice told him to turn left towards the Count’s set of private rooms, so he did. His bare feet didn’t even register the usually freezing temperature of Castle Dracula’s cold stone floors. His skin was aflame with goosebumps but not a single one had resulted from the chilly temperature.

“Geralt,” the voice purred. The sleepwalker’s pace sped up as he neared the heavy oak door that led to his employer’s bedchamber, “I am waiting for you, my pet, and I am growing impatient.”

---

“Are you completely and totally sure, Geralt?” Jaskier asked, worrying his lip between his sharp, sharp teeth. Geralt nodded and tried his best to look away from his lover’s gorgeous mouth. It wasn’t working. “Oh...Oh yes. I suppose you’re quite sure.”

“How can you tell?” the solicitor asked, quirking a curious eyebrow in Jaskier’s direction. The vampire gestured as he spoke, trying to work out some of his fizzling energy as he explained his powers.

“Uhm, right. I should probably explain. I can read minds, you see. Telepathy was gifted to me along with the immortality, the odd sleeping hours, and the lust for drinking human blood. I am also an incredibly fast healer, I can turn into a bat, and I can walk up and down walls as easily as if they were floors.”

“Impressive,” Geralt smirked. “Care to demonstrate, Your Grace?”

“Perhaps at a later date; I’m not in the mood for party tricks just now. Not after what you just told me and what I just saw going through your pretty white lawyer-jargon-filled head.”

“So you can read my thoughts as clear as day, then?”

“Yes, but I don’t make a habit of doing it regularly. I only peeked in just now because your line of questioning had me in a bundle of nerves.”

“Going to bed with me makes you nervous?”

“I very much enjoy our tender nights of lovemaking together, Geralt,” the vampire admonished teasingly. He was trying to lighten the mood, to fully process his recently acquired lover’s peculiar request. “I just don’t want anything to happen to you. I don’t want you to suddenly change your mind or feel unsure going into things and only continue for my sake. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if you woke up one morning and feared me for being the monster I truly am.”

“You are no monster,” Geralt asserted, catching Jaskier’s flighty hands in both of his and holding them tightly. He squeezed his fingers and smiled encouragingly when Jaskier squeezed back. “And aren’t I supposed to be the nervous one, coming to you with something of this nature and speaking of it in plain terms? I’m mortified.”

“I just don’t want you to be afraid of me, Geralt.”

The human cocked his head to the side and smiled, the deep blush that had accompanied his earlier request still darkened the apples of his cheeks. His open expression was so trusting and endearing that Jaskier’s heart would have broken if it were still beating. “I could never be afraid of you, Your Grace.”

“Do I have your permission to read through your expectations of this, should we attempt it?”

“Of course, Your Grace. Whatever pleases you best, Your Grace.”

“That’s cheating, darling. You know how it boils my blood when you call me that,” the vampire growled.

They’d fallen back into the pillows after that but the deal had been struck: some night when Geralt wasn’t expecting it, when he was fast asleep, Jaskier would bring his lover under his thrall. He would command Geralt’s every movement, keeping careful tabs on his mind so that no wrong moves were made and no damage was done. He cared too much for the mortal’s safety to risk anything.

But the mortal had learned that it was very hard for Jaskier to deny him anything, especially when it came to adventurous and lusty bedroom games.

---

Geralt pushed the door open and approached the bed, where Jaskier was reclined comfortably against a mound of pillows. His ankles were delicately crossed and he was draped in a long, flowing white silk night shirt. His fangs were already fully extended and his irises were glowing crimson in the dim light of a few lit candles.

“Kneel,” Jaskier ordered. Geralt dropped to his knees, unconsciously grateful for the pillow that his employer and lover had set out in preparation. The Count slid from the bed and approached his prey, breathing the heady scent of a lustful, eager human. It was a warm, earthy scent and it tickled him greatly to know that Geralt felt it all for him. Only for him.

For Count Dracula, the terror of Redania.

One of the immortal’s cold, calloused fingertips slid down the side of Geralt’s jaw and the solicitor shuddered instinctively, thrusting his chest forward and turning his face to the left to better reveal the pale, unmarked column of his throat. The Count released a feral growl and fisted his hands into Geralt’s hair. He tugged his head back, forcing the younger man to arch even further forward and breathe even more shallowly than before. All Jaskier could hear in the mortal’s mind, even beneath the fog of his vampiric thrall, was: Yes! Yes! More. Yes!

It was very encouraging. He kissed a torturously slow line of tooth-heavy kisses up and down the soft skin and refused to let the mortal give in to his urge to write. He forced Geralt to stay perfectly still as he laved his throat and Adam’s apple with his teeth and tongue.

He whined, low and long, and the Count released him to step back.

“Greedy thing,” the vampire chuckled. The sound was low and ominous; it reverberated dangerously through Geralt’s chest and forced a whine from his throat, his eyes still trained on the Count. The solicitor could not force himself to move an inch as he awaited further instructions from his Master. Finally, after a nearly painful length of silence, Jaskier murmured, “Disrobe for me, pet.”

Geralt’s fingers flew to the collar of his nightshirt, tugging the buttons apart haphazardly in his rush to bare himself before his Count. His Jaskier. His Master. The vampire placed his hands over the mortal’s and tutted in disappointment. The sound had Geralt reeling, groaning in utter confusion as he went limp beneath his lover’s ministrations.

“Slower, my darling. Put on a show for me. You’re so pretty, Geralt, and I’d like it if you remembered that. Unwrap yourself like a present, wouldn’t you?”

The white-haired human flushed a charming shade of pink and ducked his head. Jaskier removed his hands and sat back down on the edge of the bed. He watched with obvious arousal as Geralt slowly unhooked each shiny black button, drawing the material aside to reveal the planes of his broad, lightly-furred chest. He slowly slipped the offending article over his head and discarded it to the side. Then he paused, waiting once again for the vampire to give him a command.

“Pants off, too. I’d like you bare, my pet.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

“What does it feel like to be enthralled by your love, Geralt? Do you regret letting me be your Master?”

“I regret nothing, Your Grace. Being yours like this...it feels as if my mind is far away and yet everything I touch is very close. If your skin brushes against mine unintentionally I fear that I shall fly apart; yet I’ve never wanted to be touched more desperately in my life.”

“Hmm. That is an interesting way to put it. Now, my love, come lay with me and let me touch you as you so desire.”

“As it pleases you, Your Grace.”

“Even bent to obey my every whim without question you are no less accommodating, my dear.”

Jaskier straddled Geralt as soon as the mortal had laid himself down. He shucked off his own silk nightshirt in the process, tossing it off into the darkness as if it wasn’t worth more than Geralt’s weight in gold. The Count ran his frigid hands down Geralt’s firm arms, clasping his hands and pulling them slowly, teasingly over his head.

“How strange it must be to know that I will not tie you down and yet you will not be able to move from this position without my order to do so,” the vampire whispered against the shell of his lover’s ear. Geralt moaned and tossed his head back, baring his throat once again. The human was practically screaming his thoughts at Jaskier: Bite me! Feed from me! Take from me and make me yours, Your Grace. My handsome Count. My love!

The Count wrapped himself around his lovely, willing victim and eagerly acquiesced.

---

“Fuck!” Geralt cried. He was sure that every nerve ending in his body was screaming in wave after wave of unstoppable ecstasy.

Jaskier was everywhere. The Count had released the hold of his thrall as soon as he’d bitten into the side of Geralt’s throat. Now there was nothing standing between Geralt and all of the wonderful sensations his lover was inflicting upon him. The rhythmic movements of Jaskier’s hips as the vampire fucked him firmly down into the mattress, the heaving of his breath in his slow human lungs, the little white flyaways that were stuck to his forehead with sweat; even the way his hands were buried fiercely in the vampire’s soft chestnut hair seemed to only further drive Geralt mad with lust.

There were warring sparks of arousal and heat shooting between the spot in his neck where Jaskier’s teeth were buried and the spot in his ass where Jaskier’s glorious cock was buried. The Count was an expert at mind reading and at lovemaking. He played Geralt like Geralt had seen him once play the lute and the harp. His fingers were expert, flicking at his nipples and pulling at his hair at just the right moments.

The young solicitor was nothing more than a moaning, writhing symphony and Jaskier was his wicked, brilliant composer. He sang at his Master’s order, grunting and sighing whenever one of the Count’s expert thrusts hit his prostate. It was even better knowing that every slam of Jaskier’s hips was matched by a strong pull of blood as the vampire drank from him. To know that he was pleasuring His Grace in so many ways at once brought the human to the height of joy. He mumbled a long series of wordless, gibberish thanks and let the Count drain him of his life force.

“I can keep going all night,” the vampire warned, removing his teeth from his quarry only long enough to speak. “I could drive you mad like this, Geralt. Would you like that? Would you enjoy spending your life under my spell, warming my bed and slaking my immortal lusts? Would you like it if I laid you out on a pretty velvet dais during the day and gave you endless books to read? Would you be content if I had you dressed and bathed for me by your own set of servants every night and delivered to my bed when the sun finally disappears?”

“Your Grace! Please!”

Geralt didn’t know if he was begging for it or trying to plead against it; perhaps both or perhaps neither. Perhaps he was merely begging for Jaskier to put his fangs back in his straining, yearning neck. But the Count wasn’t about to let him off that easily.

“Please, you say? Does that idea appeal to you, my pet? Would you like being looked after and taken care of and tenderly worshiped from now until your dying day?”

“Jaskier!” the mortal solicitor cried, clenching tightly around the vampire and forcing the immortal’s breath from his lungs. “Keep me forever, do not let me leave your side, Your Grace! Please!”

“Fuck, Geralt, I’m-” he cut himself off by sinking his canines back into his lover’s pale arteries and sucking in one last deep gulp of sparkling ruby nectar.

“Yes! Your Grace!”

They fell over the precipice together, tumbling through empty, breathless air as they came. The feeling of Jaskier’s fangs in his neck had finally given Geralt the perfect amount of stimulation to climax, messing both his own chest and part of Jaskier’s with sticky spend. Since the Count had been monitoring Geralt’s thoughts the entire time they were coupling, hell bent on making sure he was enjoying himself, Geralt’s climax sent Jaskier headfirst into his own shuddering finish. “Fuck! My love!”

“Jaskier!” ---

“You’re a marvel, my darling,” the Count insisted, forcing Geralt to take another sip of sweet red wine. He slipped a piece of sweet bread with jam into the mortal’s mouth shortly thereafter. “I am so lucky to have had you delivered right to my doorstep, ready and willing to fall under my evil spell.”

“You’re still not frightening me,” the solicitor replied. “I went to law school; you’re almost tame.”

“For that remark you shall be severely punished.”

Geralt rolled over in Jaskier’s lap and wiggled his ass playfully. “Oh no, Your Grace. Anything but that.”

“Get back here and finish your wine, pet.”

Geralt returned to his previous position and Jaskier ran a hand through his snow-white locks. “May I get dressed yet, Your Grace?”

“Not if you keep calling me that. If you insist on flaunting my title then I may never let you see a stitch of clothing again.”

Geralt blushed and Jaskier’s eyes widened as the mortal’s thought passed through the veil into his own mind. The Count laughed and fed Geralt a bite of bread.

“You’re an absolutely filthy little minx, pet. I’m going to keep you forever.”

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kosmosguk · 4 years

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[Yandere Merman/Siren Jungkook Headcannons]

Guess who’s procrastinating on Lineage lmaooo. I’m finally on my one week of break, but everyday feels like a Sunday so I haven’t been motivated to get things done. Thanks for your patience, guys; I’m trying to get back a sense of normality by posting a lil’! It’s a bit longer than my other headcannons so parts of the sfw and the smutty parts are underneath the line!

warnings: mentions of kidnapping, lemony fresh stuff (lmao I mean smut), a sprinkling of pain mention, yandere themes, normalization of toxic relationship values

SFW:

• He’s spent years of his life roaming the oceans of the world. He’s met others of his kind, from welcoming to hostile, but unlike others in his kind, Jungkook has never met his mate. Other have vied for his attention; after all, he has a high status in their society due to how powerful and enchanting his voice is.

• He’s seen what love looks like. What true love looks like. His parents met when his father had been swimming in a new ocean with his shoal and had spotted a pretty mermaid who had been separated from her own shoal. His father had fallen in love and captured her, which was a common practice in his shoal; his mother hadn’t loved his father at first, but she gradually became as infatuated with him as he was with her.

• He meets you when he wanders away from his shoal, wanting a breather from the mating proposals he has stacked up. He’s propped on a rock, cooing and warbling the faint melodies of a siren song, when he hears the crackling of stone and the sudden snap of a twig underfoot. He pushes himself back underneath the waves but allows himself to peek up from above the waters, his gaze clashing with your wide curious eyes.

• You’re a human. Jungkook flinches and is about to dive deeper underneath the waters when you call out to him, your voice calming and sweet, like a melody. You make a soft clicking noise, trying to imitate a dolphin, and Jungkook snorts at your attempt to communicate. He splashes a bit of water on you to show his interest. You let out a laugh and splash him back, your pretty features glowing underneath the dappling light of an early morning. In that moment, Jungkook finally knows what his father felt when he first set eyes on his mother.

• He wants to capture you, bring you into his cave in the seas where no one can so much look at you. But he holds back, instead waiting for the days where you find yourself by the water; he wants to learn more about you.

• He knows a bit of English, and he learns more from you as you speak. You draw him pictures in the grainy sand when he can’t understand you, eagerly chattering. He wants to take you away now, but he’s unsure of how to do so safely. You’re human; Jungkook knows humans can’t breathe.

• Jungkook manages to enjoy his days like this away from his shoal with the pretty human he’s found. You’re his treasure, and by God does everyone know how possessive sirens are over their treasure.

• One day, everything changes. Jungkook can’t hold back anymore when he sees you fall into the waters. There are other cries of help from humans, asking for people to come save you. Jungkook catches your flailing body in his arms and pulls you deeper in the waters. People think you’re dead by now; Jungkook knows better.

• He presses his lips against yours, blowing bubbles of air into your lungs until the rise of your chest softens from a heave to an inhale. When you wake up, enclosed in Jungkook’s cave and far from the surface, you realize that there’s no way to escape when he points at the other deadlier creatures hovering outside.

NSFW:

• It takes a while for you to get used to life underwater. It takes even longer for you to get used to how...desperate the merman who’s kidnapped you is for your touch.

• Jungkook doesn’t know how to take it slow and steady; he presses kisses on your thrashing body and grins with a mouth full of sharp teeth when you try to cry out and a bubble of air escapes your mouth. Human words don’t travel well here, and you don’t know the language of sirens well enough to communicate.

• Jungkook’s curious about everything when it comes to you. His touch wildly roams, swirling hot bubbling desire in your stomach as he trails his fingertips along your center and dips his fingers into your core. Sometimes when he’s pressing his tongue against your cunt, he goes absolutely animalistic, and his teeth leave red lines on your inner thighs.

• He gets excited easily. You always know when he’s going to fuck you when you see his dick peek from the slit in his tail. His voice doesn’t waver from its usual melodic pitch, but when he’s fucking into you so hard and deep, and you’re desperately clinging onto him with your more frail human body, he almost begins to snarl out his siren calls.

• His possessive nature shows the most when he’s fucking you. He presses his body against your body against the cool stone floors of his cave, refusing to let even a peek of your body be seen by any passerby, and God forbid someone try to enter his cave when he’s with you. One unfortunate merman tried to call him once, and you had to watch, mortified, as Jungkook killed him.

• There are moments where he’s sweet and his fucking becomes lovemaking. His touch is tender as he drags his hands on the softness of your body and soaks himself in your warmth. The feeling of danger returns when he warbles out after you’re done and nearly passed out on the floor and tenderly presses his hand against your stomach, as if he’s waiting to watch you grow round with his young.

#yandere bts #yandere jungkook #yandere x reader #yandere lemon #yandere smut #bts #bts jungkook #jungkook x reader #yandere au #bts yandere #yandere fic #yandere headcannons #yandere writing

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theonetheycallhannah · 4 years

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The Treatment of Captain Syverson-Chapter 16: Sit Rep

Characters: Captain Logan “Sy” Syverson, various other original supporting/secondary characters (This includes Sy’s Army Buddies of varying rank as follows: Kevin Kaufmann, Nate Banning, Chad Randall, Matt Styles, Jake Ryburn, and Travis Hodges. I apologize if I’ve mixed up their names anywhere. I just gave them last names and sometimes rank so they could be called something other than their first names for sake of variety! lol!)

Summary: Sy meets up with his Army buddies and they are eager to help.

Romance and Smut Abound HERE!

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings: Language, firearms, implication of abuse and violence

Author’s Note: Guys, we are getting closer! Our couple will be back together soon! I can’t wait and I know most of you feel the same! I hope the strike team members aren’t too muddled and confusing. If they are, I’m very open to your feedback and suggestions on how to clarify and improve! Thank you to everyone, long time readers, and new fans picked up along the way! I cherish you all, and would never have gotten this far in the story if it wasn’t for each and every one of you! I hope you enjoy the 16th chapter (18th installment…remember when I thought this would just be a few chapters of fluff with a smutty conclusion? Lol!) of The treatment of Captain Syverson.

Disclaimer: Unfortunately for me, Henry is not mine, le sigh, and all mention of him, his characters, any characters from his films, or his precious doggy, Kal, are strictly for transformative and recreational use. I neither ask for, nor accept payment for the work I post on Tumblr or AO3. Unbeta’d because this is for fun and escapism. This is an original work by me, Hannah. Please reblog if you wish to share. Please do not repost either in whole or part, as the work of anyone but myself. Thanks so much for reading!

Tags:

@onlyhenrys @cavillryarchive @summersong69 @titty-teetee @bloodyinspiredfuck @agniavateira @oddsnendsfanfics @omgkatinka @thisismysecretthirstblog @speakerforthedead0 @tumblnewby @suavechops @radkesgirl83 @wheretheriversrunintothesea @heartfelt-pen @auds24 @geekycanuck @lunarstarknight @wilma-g @coldmuffinbanditshoe @feralrunaway @sugarpenchant @bichibibi @mzchievous-blog

If you want to be notified when I post a new chapter or work, I’ll be happy to add you to my tag list! Stricken blogs are getting personal messages from me when a new chapter is uploaded because Tumblr’s faulty tagging system will not stand in the way of me delivering what the people want!(?) lol! (Although…their lackadaisical notification system might…sorry for that. I have no control. lol!)

X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@

Sy sat in his truck in the parking lot of Cade's. He couldn't help but think about the last time he was here. The altercations with Elliott, both inside the bar and outside, the friendships he'd started to build with the other fellas in Shane's work group, the simple way Shane pulled off the elegance of minimalism with her wardrobe and makeup, the ride home…and the night of lovemaking that followed. He had made a mistake. He shouldn't have agreed to come tonight. He was gonna leave. His right hand reached for the keys in the ignition, a firm grip ready to set the engine roaring again, when he was startled by a rap at his window.

Tap-tappa-tap-tap his friend Kevin had just rhythmically knocked with one knuckle on the window. He was smiling and waving exuberantly, like a puppy whose master had just come home.

Sy's scowl softened into a sheepish grin and he knocked back tap-tap.

Kevin waited near Sy's front fender while he got out of his truck.

"How ya doin' Kevin?" he greeted his old friend warmly.

"Alright, I s'pose! You?"

"Oh…I'm makin' it, I guess. What are you up to these days? Still workin' at the plant?" Kevin had worked for the 3M factory over in Lebanon, Missouri since his last tour. Sy knew if he just got him talking about his life, Sy wouldn't have to give him details about his own, which he was going to avoid like the plague, if he could tonight.

"Yup, I actually just got a promotion. I'm a line manager now." And Sy could barely congratulate him before he started delving into the details as the two men walked into Cade's.

It was already busy, even for a Friday night. But the rest of the guys had already claimed a table between the dart boards and the pool tables, and were working on a couple of pitchers of beer. The two were welcomed warmly and only slightly teased about walking in together.

With the group finally assembled, they began taking turns giving report on their lives. It began with Kevin, who, having already begun with Sy, continued with a brief recap for the others. Sy exhaled with relief when Matt, who was seated on the other side of Kevin piped up to speak next, having recently proposed to his long time girlfriend. They were going to get to him last, if at all. He listened as well as he could as he battled the troubled thoughts in his head by bombarding them with beer. Unbeknownst to him, his friend Nate, who'd organized the gathering, had been observing his behavior with curiosity, and a measure of concern. He didn't let Jake finish talking about his latest dalliance into what they were all sure was a pyramid scheme disguised as direct sales. Even though Jake insisted it was not.

"Well, I'm curious as to why Sy's been so tight-lipped all evening. What's on your mind, Captain?"

"Nothin' Nate. Just enjoying a few beers with old friends." Sy lied, not convincing anyone at the table, least of all Nate, who had been one of his closest friends while they were stationed together.

"If I wanted to hear bullshit, I'd have let Jake keep talking about the Duraplex scam."

"It's not a scam, guys, it's real supplements for busy people!" Jake defended.

"Can it, Hodges. We aren't buying it, and we aren't signing up to sell it, either." Nate focused again on Sy. "Come on, man. You told me on the phone you had a lot going on. What is it? Female troubles?" He snickered, as did the other guys.

Sy looked into his glass, through the foam and into the honey liquid below it with a rueful grin. "In a sense."

He took a huge drink of the beer, five gulps, nearly emptying it, fortifying himself to speak.

"My girlfriend is missing." Everyone froze in position as they processed this.

Half a dozen questions hit his ears at once. Which he could have handled if he hadn't had almost a full pitcher by himself.

He shut them down, and began to tell them the story of how he met Shane and their sort of whirlwind romance. He paused for a moment to pour himself another beer.

"Never heard you talk about a woman like that, Sy." His friend Chad piped up.

"Never felt this way before, man. She's…she's the one."

"You said she was missing, though?" Nate asked, brow furrowed in concern.

Sy continued, talking about their argument, reconciliation, and then his leaving for training, ending his briefing with the phone call he got from Shane's boss.

"That's fucked up, man." Matt said. "What are you gonna do about it?" His worry seemed genuine, as well, as if he was putting himself in Sy's shoes. Sy assumed because he had been in love with Tonya, his now fiancé since they were in high school, even though she didn't come around on him until he came home on leave one holiday weekend.

"I've already gone to the police with my statement and an idea for a prime suspect."

"You think she was kidnapped?" Brad Randall, who was a Sergeant for the Rolla Police Department, inquired.

"I personally have no doubts that she was kidnapped, and I am a hun'ert percent certain it was her shithead ex."

"And you don't think she's just…ghosted you?" Brad prompted. The thought put a painful tightness in Sy's chest, but it passed quickly. He knew she wouldn't do that. And not just to him.

"No way, man. She left her phone. She didn't tell work. She didn't even tell her parents. Shane takes her phone with her from room to room. She's glued to it. She'd never do that to her coworkers, who are practically family, and she'd certainly tell her parents if she was going to leave town for any amount of time. It's just…not her. I know her."

"And who's this ex? What's his deal? Why is he on the short list of suspects?"

"He IS the list, Brad. He was abusive when they were together. And a cheater. And a liar. And he tried to jump me right outside just a few weeks back. Ask Candace. She was behind the bar when he started getting in Shane's face up there. And I'd bet she saw what happened out in the parking lot, too." He gestured to the sporty blonde bartender with a high ponytail and a Cardinal's jersey when he mentioned her, and then pointed toward the windows looking out onto the dozen or more vehicles parked outside.

"Can we do anything?" Kevin asked, clamping a hand on Sy's shoulder.

"Nothin'. But I appreciate the offer, brother." And he returned the contact with a clap to the other man's shoulder.

Nate and Brad exchanged pointed looks, and Nate countered Sy's rejection.

"I wouldn't say THAT, Sy."

"What do you mean?" Sy looked at Nate as if he was pedaling snake oil…or Jake's supplements.

"I think…that we CAN do something. To help you find Shane."

"We all have military experience, and some of us have connections that could be very useful." Added Brad. "I'm on the Force. I can handle getting intel on the guy."

"I'm in to help with transpo." Matt Styles raised his hand to offer up the vehicles in his transportation service, Rydes with Styles. Sy hated when words were misspelled for the sake of gimmicks…but he had to give Matt credit for that one.

"And Travis and I still work at the base. We can arrange gear." Jake added as Travis nodded.

"And whatever else you need, I'm in too." Kevin concluded.

"No way, guys. You can't stick your necks out for me like that. I won't have it."

"Sy…You know I talked to Lopez after that last mission the two of you were on?" Travis met Sy's eye as he spoke. "He said you had your team carry out Kominski's body. And that you took on most of, and then all of his bodyweight, just so Freeman could cover everyone. Said you were hurt, yourself, but helped him, carried him, to your extraction point. Up several flights of stairs."

Sy had no response other than a blank stare. It seemed to say all it needed to, because Travis continued.

"Lopez is alive and the Kominski girls got to say a proper goodbye to David. Plus, that mission WAS a success because you got the target. I know it's still classified, but…I think we all know the significance of what you did by leading that mission. You didn't leave a man, living or dead, behind."

"And we aren't gonna let your girl get left behind, either. We're gonna take that sonofabitch out. Because what do we do?" Nate declared, ending with the call Sy had always used at the end of his mission briefs.

The whole table, including a reluctant Sy, recited “We embrace the darkness and the suffering.”

“And why do we do it?” Nate continued.

“So that our fellow man is free to live in peace." Sy looked around the table at all of these men he had served with, fought with, watched comrades fall with, and fought against tyranny with. He thought most of them could have come up with their own story about his role in their military time, but the mission Travis was talking about outlined what he figured was the most significant sacrifice he had ever made for a teammate.

"Well…I guess we need to come up with a plan, then." Sy smiled and finished off the beer in his glass before laying it out for the others.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sy had given them all missions tailored to their own strengths and connections. Brad would gather all the info he could on Elliott. Matt would reserve vehicles. Jake and Travis would procure tactical gear for the team, and Nate…Nate would provide weapons. Pistols and blades. Ammo. Holsters. Even flash grenades and smoke bombs.

Cade's was too public to talk about their plans, so Sy told everyone to rendezvous at his house the very next afternoon. They sat around the patio table on his back deck while they waited for everyone to arrive. Jake was late.

"Well, I guess 'direct sales' waits for no man, and we can't wait for Ryburn anymore. Styles, report?" Sy commenced the meeting.

"I have three Suburbans that are only a couple years old. They're black, discreet, and all glass is tinted within an inch of it's life. Even the license plate covers. I'll make sure they're fueled and ready." Matt stated.

"Aces. Richardson?" Travis spoke up next.

"Yeah, Jake had to go in for a late shift last night after we met, but I talked to him. He's gonna get vests for everyone, eyewear, comms, the whole works. All rated for Black Ops. He told me a bit ago he was following up on a lead and was hoping it would pan out. Said he had a hunch." Travis shrugged, not certain what his friend was up to, but not that concerned.

"Sounds good. Randall?"

"I made up some dossiers for everyone that includes everything I could find on Thomas. He doesn't have a ton of priors. Mostly drunk and disorderly's that were thrown out, because he got the right representation and the wrong judge. He must have someone backing him, because I have no job on file for him. No employer has run a background on him in ten years. Last known address is from six years ago, when he filed a change of address from an apartment in the Cottage Hills complex to…407 Oak Street."

"That's Shane's address." Sy interjected. "He must not have changed it since she kicked him out."

"It seems so. But it's so weird. I don't see any credit cards, online orders, not even a Netflix account on the guy. He's totally fallen off the grid since Shane. I did get into some social media accounts, but he hasn't posted to anything in the last 18 months."

"Really?"

"Yeah, he was posting hot and heavy about this girl, Kara Hutch. 37. Lives over in Waynesville. But his last Facebook status just says, 'What a waste.' and 'feeling betrayed' and that was in February of last year."

"Hmm, do you think--" Sy was interrupted by the unexpectedly loud and abrupt sound of his front door flying open and Aika, with them on the deck, barking like they were about to be murdered. She was ready to kill whatever came through next. The men, all of them battle hardened veterans sporting conceal and carry permits, were out of their seats and in defensive stances in a fraction of a second. Aiming at an unseen enemy. A figure approached in the shadow of Sy's kitchen, arms raised and slowing as it saw several barrels aimed for its head and chest.

"Woah, woah, woah, guys it's me! It's Jake! Stand down!"

"Are you FUCKING INSANE, Corporal!?" Sy asked, reverting to Captain mode. "You just snuck up on and burst in on a group of soldiers. Do you comprehend how close you came to looking more like Swiss Cheese than a man, Ryburn?!" Sy scolded, fire in him rising, but more out of an angry concern for the friend they nearly shot.

"Sorry, sir, err, Sy. I was focused on getting here for my report." Jake said, out of breath.

"Travis already told us about the gear, Ryburn. You didn't need to bust in like that." Nate berated.

"Oh, guys. What I've got is way better than night vision devices. I might have an address for our guy."

"How in seven hells did YOU get an address?" Brad exclaimed, pride wounded as intel was his task.

"I know, dude, that was on you, but…I overheard a conversation when I was doing some work on equipment in the Air Traffic Control tower."

"What could you have possibly overheard in ATC?" Sy was incredulous.

"Do you want me to tell you, or would you like to keep screaming at me?"

Sy called Aika off and let Jake onto the deck, but the German Shepherd was still eyeing the corporal with marked skepticism.

"So I kept hearing this controller talking to the other girl at her station. She kept talking about her boyfriend…whose name was Elliott." Eyebrows went up all around the table. "Yeah, and he fit the description in every way. Physical appearance, textbook narcissism, the works. I went to the personnel office when I got done with the service call and told the attendant that the girl had helped me with my gear and I wanted to send her an email to thank her. She gave me a contact sheet on Sasha King. I looked her up on my lunchbreak, and found some photos of her with a guy I think might be Elliott." Jake showed Sy an image he'd saved to his phone. "Is this him?"

"Yup, that's the guy." Sy's blood was boiling again at the smiles on the couple's faces. He didn't deserve happiness. He didn't deserve a pretty girlfriend. He should die alone, starving for the love he deprived others. "You say you got an address?"

"Yeah, the gal in personnel printed me a full demo sheet. The only thing we don't have is a social." Sy noted the redacted 9-digit code in one corner of the document Jake had handed him. He read out loud. 3502 Highway D. St. Robert, MO.

"You boys feel up to a little recon tonight?" They all nodded, excitedly, patting Jake on the back, and high fiving him in congratulations on the invaluable find. Even Brad commended him on his detective skills and told him he'd have a job on the Force with him if he ever wanted a change. The corporal almost blushed.

The men went back into the house and through the front door to the driveway where they were all parked.

"Jake, you brought all the gear, too?"

"Sure did, Sy. There's vests, belts, NVDs and helmets to mount. There's plenty for everyone." Jake opened the back of his Jeep as if it were a buffet of delicious tactical equipment. Sy found among the gear a large case and opened it out of curiosity. A sound amplifier with headphones. That was going with him, as it appeared there was only one.

"I'll outfit everyone with guns and ammo later. But here are some tac knives, and three of each diversionary devices for each member of the team." Nate passed out packs with the blades, smoke grenades, and flash bombs.

"Okay, rendezvous at Matt's shop at 1800. We'll go over some procedures for the evening and get set up with the rest of our weaponry then. Okay?" General nods of ascent and "mmhmms" in confirmation of the plan came from the men. Sy continued, "Maybe get some rest between now and then. I don't know how long this is going to take."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sy got to Matt's a little early. 1730. Nate showed up about ten minutes later and pulled in next to Sy, leaving the rear doors accessible to arm the team. The men got out of their vehicles and began double checking Nate's inventory.

"Nervous?" Nate said after exchanging the usual pleasantries.

"I didn't think I was. But just now, I got to thinking about what that…monster is doing to the love of my life. What he's putting her through, if he's even let her live. What are we going to come across when we get to this place?"

"You can't think like that. She's not Schrödinger's cat. You have to be positive here. This mission depends on your strength as a leader. You're gonna do great. And Shane is gonna be fine. We all will. Have a little faith, man." Nate patted Sy on the back in encouragement. Sy appreciated it. But he thought he might have to compartmentalize, instead. Think of this as just another mission. Forget that Shane was involved. Even if it wasn't healthy, it might at least be helpful.

Matt arrived soon after and waved at the two men as he pulled in on the other side of Nate. He got out and greeted his friends, all of them shooting the breeze and enfolding the others into the conversation as they got there. Kevin was the last to arrive, just before 1800, when the briefing commenced.

"So," Sy began, more timidly than was his usual way. "First, guys, I wanna say, I appreciate y'all so much for doing this. For putting in the time and the resources to help me and Shane. I owe y'all more than I can repay, but that doesn't mean I won't try. Within reason." He grinned and his friends chuckled.

"Now, we've got the comms set up. We'll be in each other's ears, so we can report in real time. I've looked up an aerial view of the farm on Google Earth, and there should be good cover for surveillance with the sound equipment and NVDs. I'll take point, Nate, you and Matt are with me. Kevin, you and Brad will flank the property on the left, Travis and Jake are going right. I'm hoping this will just be recon, but if I get wind of something I don't like, I may call for the strike. You guys will report anything you think looks fishy, and I will make that call with the intel I'm given. Now. When and if I make that call, we're gonna aim for disorientation and soft incapacitation. If you don't have to kill, don't. I don't know how much help this bastard has, but I know it would have taken several to take down Shane. It's not that I think any of them deserve to be spared, but…I don't want us to break up any families. We don't need the weight on our already heavy souls." War had changed them all, and Sy didn't want to make any more widows. "We good?"

Nods of approval from the men made Sy think he was looking at a military bobble head collection. He stifled a smile.

"Alright, lets get armed and ready, then Matt can take us to our chariots."

They were all mostly suited up, black or dark colors were the general uniform. They were ready for whatever might happen. As Nate handed out guns and ammo, the men examined their clips, loaded their guns, and put them in their holsters until needed…they hoped they wouldn't be.

When they were all set, they followed Matt to the huge garage he kept his fleet in.

Although, "garage" didn't quite do the building justice. It was actually an airplane hangar that Matt got for a good price when the local airline went under. He'd made a loft in it with a ramp so there was extra room for smaller vehicles like his town cars. The limos, SUVs, and the stretch Hummer were on the lower level. He had a separate space outside for the two party busses and the RV, protected from the elements by large carports.

Matt went to grab keys from the lock box as the men gathered near the Suburbans. Sy was getting angsty. Moment of truth was here.

"Okay," Matt jingled two sets of keys in his hands. "Who's driving?"

Kevin deferred to Brad without contest, but Jake and Travis were bickering over the question between them.

"Grow up or get married already." Sy chided. "Jake, you got the good intel for us yesterday. You drive."

Travis was mildly crestfallen, but Jake was stoked and he caught the keyring Matt tossed him.

"You wanna drive, Captain?" Matt offered Sy the last set of keys.

"No, Matt. You're driving our group. I'll take shotgun though."

And the seven men got into the vehicles as if they were mounting horses, headed into the sunset.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Over the comms on the way, Sy addressed the team. "Okay, there's a large outbuilding near the road, guys. Pull off the driveway and park behind that structure. Hopefully they'll hide the vehicles from the main house. Bravo and Charlie teams, you let Alpha team get in place before you take your positions."

"Roger that, Captain." Kevin said in the headset.

"We copy." Travis answered for himself and Jake.

The first phase of the mission went perfectly. Sy, Nate, and Matt were in position, and Sy had set up the sound amplifier, aiming it at the house, headphones on. When the other teams were in position, Matt reported to Sy, since he was getting feedback using the earpiece and the headphones for the amp at the same time.

"Bravo and Charlie teams are in place, Captain."

"Great. Sit Rep?"

"All's quiet so far. Wait. Headlights coming up the drive." Each team tried to make themselves as small and low as possible so as not to draw attention to their presence. Sy had been getting nothing but crime show drivel from the TV in the house since he got here.

A petite but curvy brunette got out of the white Honda Civic and stomped into the house.

"Hey babe." Elliott's unmistakable voice rang in Sy's ear. And he was filled to bursting with rage all over again.

"What the fuck, Elliott? I've been trying to call you for hours! What the hell have you been doing?"

"Oh, I was charging my phone in the bedroom. What's going on?"

"That Captain Syverson your little pet was banging? I found out today that he's back in town. Has been for a few days."

"Shit. Shit!!! SHIT!!!"

"Yeah, so…if he isn't already, it won't be long before he starts trying to find her."

"But…how could he? Even if he thought it was me, I have no official ties to this place, or even you!"

"Flattering."

"You know what I mean."

"Whatever, but I'd get rid of her ASAP. This guy is NOT someone you wanna piss off, Elliott."

"I'll bring the guys in. We'll take care of it. Tonight."

Sy cussed in a loud whisper. He wanted to rip Elliott apart with his bare hands. Nate asked him what was wrong, but Sy held up a hand for him to remain quiet because he heard the scumbag inside on the phone.

"Yeah, it's me. Listen, change of plans, we need to do this tonight. Get everyone out here. Yes, immediately. There's a…potential complication. We need to take care of her before it becomes more. Yeah, she's weak, but I'm still gonna wait until you guys get here. She's still got some fight in her. She about took Jackson's eye out yesterday when he was down there. He's got some wicked scratches on his face. I think he made her regret it, though." Elliott laughed with evil mirth. Sy was furious. He reckoned God Himself might have a time pulling him off that degenerate before he made him unrecognizable as a human man. Once he started punching him, he might not be able to stop.

When Elliott signed off, Sy pulled the earphones down onto his neck. He looked at Matt and Nate.

"He's planning something with Shane and has called in reinforcements. It sounds like he means to take her somewhere else, and it didn't sound like it was gonna be pretty. I think we need to go in now."

"Shit. Okay." Matt responded. Sy put his earpiece in and called on the rest of the team.

"Bravo and Charlie, do you copy?"

"Bravo copies." Kevin reported back.

"Charlie copies. Go ahead, Alpha." Travis cleared.

"Listen, boys. We need to go in, and we need to make it quick. Here’s the situation. We have one male and one female assailant inside the domicile, and an undetermined number of additional combatants en route to reinforce the enemy's line. We have one target. A female prisoner, presumably in the basement, given verbiage used in the communication I intercepted. Alpha team will make our priority extraction. Bravo, you will subdue the male assailant and then maintain sentry position on the lookout for more unfriendlies. Charlie team, you will clear the second level of the house and subdue the female combatant. She is a soldier, so proceed with extreme caution. Once the area is secure, drivers, go and retrieve the vehicles. We are gonna need to get out of here quick, or else things might go tits up. I'm concerned we'll lose the advantage of numbers if we wait too long. Are we clear?"

"Copy that, Alpha leader."

"Roger. On your count, cap."

Sy took a deep breath. Thought to himself "Shane. I'm on my way, baby!" He saw red, then. And called for the charge, out of the darkness, and into the farmhouse. To an uncertain outcome.

Up Next: Chapter 17-Gait Training

#Sand Castle #netflix sand castle #captain syverson #Captain Syverson x OFC #sigh for sy #henry cavill #henry cavill fanfic #Henry Cavill x ofc

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xxbyimm · 4 years

Text

Lovers - Fíli x reader

Check out my Masterlist!

HAPPY BELATED FÍLI FRIDAY MY LOVES!! I’ve been walking around with this smutty idea for months... I do hope y’all enjoy. xoxo

Lovers - Fíli x reader

Summary: Fíli makes love to you.

Warnings: SMUT, 18+ fic. If you are not 18, I prefer you not read this. Be warned.

Taglist: @soradragon @pistachiozombie @legolaslovely @tomisbaeholland @saviorsong @swoopswishsward @fizzyxcustard @deepestfirefun @ruthoakenshield @mariannetora Furthermore: @sage-willow-raven and @daydreamer-in-training were ready for some naughty Fíli, so I’m giving you lovelies a tag! If you don’t wish to be tagged anymore, please let me know! Or if you’re not on the list and want to be tagged: check out my lists and I’d like to hear which list you want in on!

The small garret was covered in darkness. The last candles already burned out hours ago, leaving the vague trace of burned wax hanging in the air. Outside the silence reigned, though if you listened closely you could hear distant moans coming from the guestrooms on the floor below. The icy frost had crept through the cracks of the window frame into the small space of the attic, but below the coverlet it was pleasingly warm.

Something smooth moved against his groin, stirring the golden lion in his sleep. He heaved a drowsy sigh, his peaceful dreams turning into something more wicked. Scenes of a young prince playing with his peers gradually morphed into a matured version of him, this time fooling around with you. His body tingled as it remembered the events that had taken place last night.

Especially the way you had felt fucking fantastic around him.

Fíli, the prince of Durin’s folk, awoke. Though he couldn’t have slept more than a few hours, he felt well rested. He groaned softly when you moved in your sleep, pressing your perfectly round bum against him once more. Mahal! He now was definitely awake. You on the other hand, were clearly not aware of your own actions. Your breathing still sounded heavy and your thoughts seemed far, far away.

It didn’t matter though. Dawn must be nearing and he reckoned it wouldn’t take long for the sun to creep into the room to wake you and your pretty physique up from your slumber. And if it didn’t, he’d find a way. By now he knew your curves like the back of his own hand and there were plenty of pleasant options that would have you wake up in an instant.

Fíli smirked, his thoughts shifting to last night. It had begun as it usually did. He had entered the tavern and retreated to his usual spot in the back. From there, he had admired the excellent view as he watched you work. Because your father always kept a watchful eye you didn’t dare to give your favorite patron more attention than the other customers, but when the old goat wasn’t looking lustful glances were thrown across the place. On some occasions you even dared to stop for some polite, small talk when you served the golden prince his ale.

Over the past few months, the more Fíli had watched you and your father interact the lesser he thought of the man. While you were as sweet and innocent as an angel, your father was the complete opposite. He was a harsh guy, a cunning and vile kind who cared more for coin than his own flesh and blood. Once, the prince had heard him complain about how his wife had left him with a worthless daughter who no one wanted, instead of a real heir. The guy didn’t deserve you or the hard work you put yourself through every day, but you wouldn’t hear of it.

So because Fíli couldn’t steal you away from this awful place, he tried to settle with the pleasant knowledge that the bastard was oblivious of the fact that the two of you were far much more acquainted than you were letting on.

For the last few months, Fíli had developed the habit of climbing to the roof after the tavern had closed for the night and slipping through your slightly opened window. You were always there waiting, welcoming the prince in your bed. He had lost count of the times he had made love to you on that old mattress that creaked with every move the two of you made, but he had not forgotten that one moment when you had told him you loved him. At the time he was so taken aback by the sincerity of it that he had murmured something incomprehensive in return, but he had wrecked his brain to find a way to make it up to you ever since.

Truth was, he loved you as much as you loved him, maybe even more. He adored your pretty features, the way you laughed. Though others underestimated you because of your sweet demeanor and small height, Fíli knew that you could be quick as a whip and as sharp as one of his favorite knives. You had a beautiful, bright mind and he could listen for hours to you voicing your thoughts out loud. You were everything he had ever wanted in a woman, but the one chance he had of telling you that, he ruined beyond measure.

‘Fíli…’ you mumbled in your sleep. The prince smiled softly and placed a kiss behind your ear. ‘I’m sorry.’ He confided in you. ‘I don’t mean to be such a… jerk. You just took me by surprise, that’s all…’ You muttered something under your breath, but it was far too soft for Fíli to understand. Nonetheless, the prince perched himself up on his elbow to have better look. Your H/C locks were draped over the pillow, tickling the prince’s arm. Your lips were slightly pouted and the expression on your face was one of utter bliss. The prince could watch you for hours… Had he ever seen someone this beautiful?

Fíli could not resist it. He slowly slid down below the covers, placing delicate kisses down your spine as he went. You sighed, but did not move and the prince smiled against your S/C toned skin. He then continued on his journey south, caressing your lovely ass before he gently nudged you on your back. Your legs parted on their own and the golden lion settled in between them, momentarily admiring his excellent view. His eyes traveled over your core towards your abdomen, the swelling of your breasts and finally your face. You were everything all at once: innocent and endearing, but also a bit wicked and intoxicating as fuck. And you were all his…

The prince bowed down, barely pausing before he lazily dragged his tongue over you. ‘Oh!’ you breathed and Fíli grinned. Then, you quickly succumbed to your silent slumber again. No matter, he hadn’t expected you to wake up just like that, nor did he want you to. There was still plenty of time…

A soft kiss landed on your inner thigh and another one followed closer to your center. With his thumbs, the prince caressed the smooth skin of your thighs before pushing them further apart. You murmured something incomprehensible in return and Fíli glanced up at your sweet face.

Still asleep.

His breath fanned over your core and the golden lion licked his lips. Then he moved down, pressing a light kiss on your core before flicking his tongue over your clitoris with light, teasing strokes.

You reacted with a louder moan now. Fíli groaned against your core and shuffled between your legs to make room for his growing desire. He then moved slightly down, kissing your folds and drawing his mustache braids over you on purpose. It earned him a sharp hiss.

You probably would be embarrassed if he’d ever tell, but your scent was so… You were intoxicating till the point Fíli didn’t know if he could contain himself. If it was his choice to make, the prince would stay between your thighs forever.

Gently, Fíli parted your folds. His tongue dragged all over you in long, slow laps before he stopped at your sensitive nub and sucked on it. With a loud cry, you shot up.

The prince looked up, his blue eyes roaming freely over your body. A sharp jolt went through his abdomen as he watched you in all of your delicious glory. Your voluptuous breasts were begging to be touched, just like the already hardened nipples needed to be enclosed by the warmth of his mouth and the delicate curves of your neck deserved his undivided attention.

Though your body seemed ready for another round of sweet lovemaking, your mind was a bit hazy. Your breath was coming short pants and your eyes still seemed a little far away. ‘Fíli?’ you panted, your fingers reaching out to caress his long, golden manes. ‘What are you…’ ‘Y/N.’ he replied huskily and he couldn’t help grinning foolishly when he saw a blush creeping up your cheeks. ‘Oh, Fíli!’ you stuttered, throwing your head backwards as he still continued teasing you. Your fingers raked through his hair. ‘OH!’

The prince growled against you in return. His tongue stroked your clit in short, intense laps now. Your body started to arch up against him, silently begging for more. His fingers delved into the delicious curves of your thighs. ‘I- I- Ah!’ you breathed. ‘Fíli…’

He knew what you wanted and you wouldn’t have to ask twice. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t antagonize you just a bit more, though. So with the tip of his tongue, he continued dancing around your sensitive nub. It had you writhing above him. ‘Are you sure, love?’ he then purred. ‘Y-Yes.’ You gulped. ‘Please.’

Fíli kissed you one last time before trailing his way upwards. You eased yourself on the creaking mattress again and watched your lover through your lashes. The prince took his sweet time, leaving fond kisses on your stomach and giving both of your nipples a long, hard suck before claiming your mouth.

His lips were hungrily taking in all of you, your passionate moans and sighs spurring him further on. Your hands traveled over the prince’s flat abdomen, following the dark line of hairs towards his groin. Your fingers closed around his shaft and you started pumping up and down his length, earning a strangled groan.

But you were an impatient lass and Fíli chuckled darkly when you moved your hips against him before guiding him towards your entrance. How could he not oblige to your demands? He sank down into you with ease, watching you biting your bottom lip. A rosy color rose on your cheeks. ‘Fí-Fíli…’ you mumbled feverishly, your legs wrapping around him. ‘Love.’ He breathed. ‘I-’

Whatever he had wanted to say got lost as you surged forward and captured him a demanding kiss. The prince started to grind his hips against yours. The bed creaked loudly in rhythm with your joined moves, but neither of you seemed to notice, nor to care. ‘Oh, fuck.’ You moaned, your hips rising to meet his with every thrust. ‘Yes!’

Fíli picked up the pace, pounding harder into you. You were moaning out loud now, fingernails clinging into his back and your legs holding him like a vice. ‘Ah!’ he cried out when he felt your teeth sinking in the skin of his neck. ‘You little vixen!’ A giggle escaped you. ‘Doesn’t that please you, my prince?’ He growled. ‘Very.’ ‘Good.’ You purred, your eyes burning with pure want. ‘I want them to know you’re mine.’ Fíli rose from your embrace and guided your legs over his shoulder. He placed a kiss on your ankle and you mewled.

The two of you were so caught up into each other, that you didn’t notice someone bustling about on the floor below yours. ‘Y/N?!’ your father suddenly called up the stairs. ‘Is that you?’

‘Fuck!’ You hissed. Your eyes widened and you shoved your lover aside before jumping from the bed. A little fazed from the sudden interruption, Fíli sat unmoved. He watched you scrambling your clothes together and hastily putting them on. ‘Quick!’ you urged your prince when you saw he was merely gazing at you. ‘Get your clothes!’

‘Y/N?’ your father asked, a little louder now. The stairs creaked as the man ascended the steps towards the attic.

Fíli jumped up and caught his tunic that you threw his way, followed by his breeches. The prince shoved his feet in his boots and grabbed his coat. He was just about to steal a goodbye kiss, when the door opened.

‘Father!’ you cried out, blushing heavily. ‘This isn’t what it looks like, I-’ The old man’s face was riddled with anger and he eyed the dwarven prince with malice. ‘I knew something was going on, you filthy wench!’ He boomed and you quickly lowered your head. ‘At least you have the audacity to feel ashamed.’

His fist landed on your cheek. The impact of the force so heavy that you lost your balance and jerked backwards, but luckily Fíli reacted just in time to catch you. The prince pushed you behind him before giving your father a terrifying glare. ‘Stand behind me.’ He growled. ‘I will not let this coward manhandle you another time!’ ‘But I-’ you protested, tears streaming down your face. ‘Please don’t hurt him, I-’

Both males ignored your pleas. ‘So you’re the one who is defiling my daughter, dwarf.’ The old goat spat. ‘How long will it take before her belly is heavy from your filthy spawn?’

Your hand sought Fíli’s, but the prince pushed it away and clenched his hands into fists. Though your dad was a tall, broad guy, the golden lion didn’t feel threatened. Years of training by uncle Thorin and Dwalin had taught him well. He could take him.

Fíli’s chest was heaving mechanically as he kept his eyes on the prize. His body tensed, ready to act when called for. Blood roared in his ears.

‘Well?’ your father demanded. ‘Dad, I am-’ you began, but you swallowed the rest of your sentence when your father sent you a deadly glare. ‘If you turn out to be pregnant, I will kill the filthy half breed with my bare hands.’ He vowed, spitting on the ground.

That was it. Fíli surged forward. The first blow landed on the innkeeper’s temple, the second one on his jaw. Your father howled and stumbled backwards. Next, Fíli’s fist punched into his opponent’s chest and belly. After receiving another blow to the chest, your father fell on the floor. Anger pulsed through his blood and the prince moved forward to-

‘Fíli!’ you screeched, gripping the prince by his shoulder. ‘Please, stop!’ He clenched his jaw. Though there this was not nearly enough hurt for all the bad things your father had put you through, the prince knew it was not worth it. Thus, he took a step back. ‘Y/N.’ he rasped. ‘Let’s go.’ You shook your head violently and rushed to your father’s side. ‘I can’t. Father, are you okay?’ Your father watched you with an expression of pure hatred displayed on his face. ‘You are no daughter of mine.’ He hissed as he slapped your hands away. ‘But…’ you began. ‘OUT!’ The innkeeper screamed at you. ‘GET OUT AND NEVER COME BACK!’

After rushing down the flights of stairs, through the empty tavern and into the streets of the town, you both ran until you were out of breath. Fíli then grabbed your hand and pulled you into a small alley.

‘Y/N…’ he grinned. ‘What?!’ you huffed, looking absolutely ridiculous with one boot still in your hand and your dress hanging around your shoulders. ‘Y/N.’ he repeated, taking your in his arms and pressing you against the wall. ‘Tell me you’ll marry me.’ Your breath hitched. ‘Fíli?’ ‘How about it?’ ‘You can’t be serious.’ You murmured, avoiding his gaze. ‘Look at the state that I’m in!’ ‘I’m as sure as the ground I’m standing on, lass.’ He assured you, an huge smile adorning his face. ‘Please be my wife.’ ‘Fíli!’ you cried out. ‘Don’t mess with me! I’m in huge trouble, my father-’

His mouth covered yours, kissing you desperately. Your protests slowly changed into throaty moans and a soft thud informed the prince that your boot had escaped your grip. ‘You’re not going to return to that piece of filth.’ he growled against your lips. ‘He doesn’t deserve a soul as pure as yours.’ ‘He’s my dad!’ you managed to protest. ‘What is he going to do without me?!’ ‘I bet he soon will find out.’ The prince chuckled darkly. ‘He never has appreciated you like he should have.’ ‘But the tavern… The patrons… How can I abandon them? What will become of me?’

He had argued with you many times about this, your answer had always been the same. And now even the fact that your dad had sent you away, wasn’t enough to make you realize you were better off without him. It drove Fíli mad.

‘What do I need to do to knock some sense into you?’ the golden lion exasperated, his hands clawing into the seams of your dress. ‘Fuck your brains out? Will that bring you to reason?’ He was met with silence as you merely bit your lip and lowered your head to avoid his penetrating gaze.

The move was enough to snap the golden lion out of his anger. Mahal, losing his temper against the woman he loved, no- wanted to spend his life with, was unacceptable. Fíli wasn’t your dad and he had no intention of becoming anything like that. Disgusted with himself, he let go of your dress and stepped back.

‘I’m sorry.’ He said quietly. ‘I don’t mean to be the second male to disrespect you like that tonight. You don’t deserve that.’ ‘Fíli…’ ‘I know how much you love the tavern and it’s my fault you lost it tonight.’ The prince went on. ‘I will try to reason with that idio- I mean, your father.’ ‘That won’t be necessary.’ You replied, making Fíli look up. There was a mingling of emotions in your eyes, but a firm determination was the dominant one. ‘I am not going back.’ You told him. ‘Y/N.’ he rasped. ‘Are you serious?’ ‘If you promise to fuck me senseless whenever I do change my mind.’

He blinked and stared at you, completely dumbfounded. You smirked and the prince grinned. ‘I promise.’ He purred. ‘Shall we start already? Just to be sure?’

A small nod was enough. His blue eyes burned through yours as he pinned you against the wall and gripped your dress once more before rucking it up to your thighs. ‘People might…’ you began, but you faltered as his fingers delved in your delicate folds. Your eyes fell shut as he rubbed two fingers around your still very sensitive nub. ‘See us?’ He rasped, his hot breath fanning your face. ‘Love, I don’t care. Let them.’ ‘Fíli-’ you whined, eyes falling shut. ‘Yes…’

His hands fumbled with the laces of his trousers before he slid into you again. As he quickened his pace, his fingers grazed over your core and stroked you in all the right places. A sultry moan escaped your lips and Fíli purred in return.

You were a sight to behold. Messy hair, the quickly clad on dress hanging loosely around your shoulders and showing the swelling of your breasts. Your head was resting against the wall behind you, eyes fallen shut and your mouth slightly opened.

It was all too much. Your earlier lovemaking combined with the adrenaline of confronting your father had worked the prince up and he felt himself losing his steady rhythm. Your walls were clenching around him and Fíli growled desperately. His fingers dragged over your clit again and again, making you cry out in agony. ‘Y/N.’ the prince murmured over and over again, sounding much like a litany.

Time slowed. You shattered before him, dragging your lover with you over the edge. The world around you dissolved as Fíli’s pleasure cracked. With a strangled moan, he spilled himself deep inside of you.

You slumped against the wall and the prince nuzzled his face in your neck, softly caressing the sensitive skin. ‘I should have said this sooner.’ He whispered against you. ‘Y/N. I love you.’ You froze. ‘What did you say?’ The golden lion looked up at your gorgeous face and smiled. ‘You heard me. I said that I love you.’ ‘I thought that you…’ you murmured faintly. ‘That I was just a…’ ‘I was a coward.’ Fíli told you. ‘And your honesty took me by surprise.’ ‘I’m sorry.’ ‘No.’ he growled, tearing away from your embrace just to cup your cheeks with his hands. ‘It is me who should apologize, as I did not give you the love you deserve. I am sorry, Y/N.’ You lowered your gaze and blushed. ‘You’re forgiven.’ Fíli grinned. ‘That is….’ You continued, with a mischievous twinkle in your eyes. ‘If you can promise you’ll be on your best behavior as my husband.’ A chuckle escaped him and he moved forward. Lips brushed over one another. ‘That, I can promise…’

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