#i really need to sit down and plot out the next few chapters in better detail than my big plot point sheet | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rubyreduji · 11 months

Text

reading and doing — ljh

summary: jihoon catches you reading fanfic about him

tags: smut (minors dni!), gn!reader, idol!jihoon, pre-established relationship, lowkey crack warnings: badly written dirty talk, small dick jihoon <3, explicit unprotected sex, dom(ish) jihoon, choking, restraint for a sec, spit used as lube, fingering, rough sex, fingers in mouth, creampie wc: 2.3k an: a meta ass fanfic. i tried to keep it gn so pls don’t mention the use of certain words okay bye

Woozi thrusts his thick, large juicy cock into your soaking wet pussy and you squeal in delight.

A giggle escapes from your throat as you read the sentence. You will never not be amused by how people like to describe Jihoon’s dick in their writing.

“What’s so funny over there?” Jihoon asks as he turns his desk chair to look at you where you sit on his studio couch.

“Oh nothing,” you tell him, a small grin still plastered on your face.

Jihoon knows better than that and stands up and walks over to you. Before you can react Jihoon plucks your phone out of your hand and looks at what you were reading. A look of confusion mixed with disgust appears on his face.

“What is this?”

You snatch your phone back from him. “Fanfiction. About you specifically.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means Carats write stories about you, usually about you and them being a couple. The stuff I read is mostly sex stories, but some of the slice of life stuff is cute too,” you explain with a shrug.

“Sex stories?!” Jihoon now looks more worried than anything else.

“Yeah, they’re kinda funny. Everyone thinks you have a big dick.” You know your boyfriend isn’t insecure about his size, whether it’s his height or…other parts of him, but you still like to playfully tease him every once in a while.

“I don’t know why the Carats would want to write something like that.”

“It lets them be delusional about being with you, let them have it Jihoonie.”

“It sounds like something Mingyu would like. You know how he is about fan interactions.”

“Oh there’s a lot for Mingyu!” You tell Jihoon. “I don’t read them though of course, I only read yours.”

“That I also don’t get. Why even read them when you have the real thing.”

“Because it’s fun! I like to see how people characterize you. The one I’m reading is just for shits and giggles, but some of them are actually good. Here.” You scroll on your phone until you find your folder of saved fics and pull up one of your favorites.

Jihoon takes your phone from you and reads a couple of lines before scrunching up his face and shaking his head. “I still don’t get it. You can’t actually find stuff like this hot.”

“I don’t know, it kind of is. I know you better than anyone else so I can just put you in those situations. It’s fun. I read them when you’re away on tour.”

This gets another dramatic look out of Jihoon. “You do not.”

“I miss you okay! And you’re always busy so I just go to the next best thing. If it makes you feel better sometimes I’ll also put on Ruby when I’m masturbating and just listen to that to get off.”

“Okay and now this conversation has taken a whole new turn.”

You giggle. “C’mon Hoonie, just read this with me. It’ll be fun! Maybe you’ll even find you like them.”

“I’m not sure how I’ll find enjoyment in reading what someone else has written about me.”

“You need to take a break anyways, please!” You give him your best puppy dog eyes and Jihoon glares at you but sits down on the couch.

“I don’t even know why I’m doing this,” he grumbles.

“Because you love me. And you’re secretly curious.”

Jihoon moves so your body is between his legs, your back leaning against his front. His head rests on your shoulder as you hold the phone up to read the fic.

“This is technically a few chapters into a series but I really enjoy the smut so if the plot doesn’t make sense, don’t mind it.”

“Y/N this ridiculous-”

“Shhh, just read.”

Jihoon listens to you and you can tell he is actually reading the fic from the small grunts he lets out in reaction to the story. There’s a bit of plot at the start before it gets into the smut and Jihoon stops you at a moment when you can scroll to it.

“Do people really like this? They want to see me in these situations?”

“Oh come on Jihoon you know what the fans think of you. You can’t be totally oblivious. You read your comments and I know you have a burner Twitter.”

Jihoon doesn’t have a rebuttal for that and you smile knowing you’re right.

“Y/N I really do have work I need to-”

“Wait no, this is the good part.” You lean all of your body weight on Jihoon so he can’t get up, even though you know realistically he’s strong enough to displace you if he really wanted to. Jihoon just huffs and allows you to keep him hostage.

You try not to giggle as you read the smut, especially because you can tell Jihoon is invested. The smut in the fanfic that you picked isn’t anywhere near how Jihoon actually acts in bed and you wish you could see his face to see if he’s either intrigued or disgusted.

“Do people actually think I’m this mean?” Jihoon finally says and you laugh.

“Some people. You can be kinda mean sometimes. I think on camera you come off as standoffish,” you say. “But a lot of people think you’re sweet too. Also people are just kinky like that and enjoy this stuff.”

“Do you? You know I’m nothing like this.”

“I think you’re perfect the way you are. Don’t think me reading this stuff is me actually wanting you to be like this, I just think it’s fun to picture you in different scenarios. I mean, if people wrote smut about me would you want to read it?”

“I don’t know, I’ve never thought about it, because that’s weird to think about,” Jihoon grunts.

“Getting defensive there Hoonie?”

“Just shut up and go back to reading,” Jihoon grumbles.

“Oh you want to go back to reading? So you like it?”

“I just want you to shut up.”

You do shut up, but only because you want Jihoon to continue reading.

The fic is getting to your favorite part when things start to get really intense. You have to give props to the writer for really going in. You know that you would never be able to find such…colorful language to use to describe the things you and Jihoon get up to.

You can feel Jihoon shift behind you. A small smirk spreads on your face when you feel the smallest bit of bulge press into your lower back. Jihoon likes this.

“You okay back there Jihoonie?” You wiggle your hips a bit and Jihoon lets out a huff that you’re pretty sure is hiding a moan. “Enjoying this?”

“No.” His voice sounds tense and he answered a little too quickly to not be suspicious.

“It’s okay if you do Ji. It’s a bit of an ego boost isn’t it? Knowing all these people find you’re hot. I know this fic is particularly well liked, it has nearly three thousand interactions on it, and then all of the people who have read it without interacting. Do you like that? Three thousand people want to fuck you Hoonie.”

“I-I don’t-”

“Even if you don’t find that hot, isn’t the actual story kind of sexy? Just imagine it’s you and me in this scenario. Don’t you wanna be tangled up together as you fuck my brains out?”

“Y/N,” Jihoon whines. “Stop.”

“Stop? Stop what? Teasing you? No, I think you like it, just like how you liked the fanfic. Doesn’t it sound fun? Don’t you wanna do mean things to me while telling me how pretty I am?”

“Th-”

“Admit it baby, you like thinking about putting your big, fat cock into me.” You know you’re taking a gamble with your choice of words but it seems to work because Jihoon finally breaks.

You feel Jihoon’s hand come up around your neck and slam your body back into his. “Maybe I do.” His mouth is right next to your ear and you have to admit you do let out a shudder. “You want me to do mean things to you?”

“I think you want to do mean things to me.”

“Maybe I do, what then?”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

That’s all Jihoon needs to flip you both over, position himself over you. You definitely were not expecting to awaken a new kink in Jihoon when you told him to read the fic with you, but you’re definitely not complaining.

Jihoon keeps his loose grip around the base of your neck as he leans down to lock his lips with yours. The kiss is harsh and hurried and it doesn’t take long for Jihoon to stick his tongue in your mouth. He licks at your mouth and you arch your body into his.

His body rests between your legs and you can feel him grind down against you, his dick already fully hard. Jihoon’s mouth pops off of yours with a loud smacking sound. His hand moves off of your neck and trails down your body before it makes it to the hem of your shirt. He pushes his hand up under it, his fingertips making contact with the warm skin of your stomach.

He rubs his palm over your waist before moving higher to grope at your chest. His finger flicks over your nipple and you moan. Jihoon chuckles at this.

“Clothes off,” he growls as he pulls away from you. You quickly comply, stripping down to nothing as Jihoon does this same.

His cock is already slick with pre-cum at the tip and you have the urge to get on your knees and suck him off. Jihoon doesn’t allow this though, as he pushes you back onto the couch. You’re definitely worked up yourself by now and Jihoon can tell.

“Needy little thing, aren’t you?”

“You’re one to talk,” you bit back.

“Ah, but I’m the one in control here.” Jihoon grabs your wrists and pins them above your head. “Aren’t I?”

“Hoon-ah, please,” you beg.

“Please what?”

“Please fuck me.”

Jihoon grins. “Glady.”

Jihoon lets go of your hands and brings his fingers up to his lips. You watch as he spits on the digits before moving them down to play with your entrance. You buck your hips into his hand and Jihoon uses his other hand to push them back down.

After what feels like an eternity of teasing Jihoon finally pushes one finger into you and you let out a mewl. Jihoon pumps it in and out of you until you start to loosen up and then he shoves another one into you. He continues to do this over again until you’re finally adequately opened up.

“Ready for me?”

You nod and Jihoon lines his cock up to you and pushes in. It’s a comfortable, familiar feeling as Jihoon starts to rock his hips into you. Jihoon is buried balls deep into you when he grabs your leg and hikes up over his shoulder.

Whereas Jihoon is usually soft and slow with you, he’s now fast and hard as he slams his cock into you deeper and deeper. Jihoon has always been an adequate lover, but now you get what people mean by it’s not the size but how it’s used.

Jihoon locks one of his hands around your thigh, digging his fingertips into the fat there. You’re sure you’re going to bruise later, but you don’t care right now. His other hand reaches down and cups your jaw. His thumb swipe over your lower lip before pressing down.

“You right, you do look pretty like this,” Jihoon smirks down at you. This thumb presses harder into your bottom lip until Jihoon finally pushes it all the way into your mouth, pushing down on your tongue. “Next time I’m going to tie you up and make you choke on my cock.”

You whine around Jihoon’s thumb at the image. It’s a good thing Jihoon is blocking you from saying anything because you’re sure if you tried it would just be utter nonsense.

With the way Jihoon is cramming up your g-spot you know you’re not going to last much longer. Luckily it seems like Jihoon is close as well from the concentration displayed on his face.

“Fuck, gonna cum inside, yeah?” You just nod the best you can.

You’re expecting Jihoon to cum first, but your climax creeps up on you and suddenly your legs are shaking as your back arches up off the couch. Your eyes roll back into your head as you let out a wanton moan.

Seeing you fucked out thorougly makes Jihoon spill over the edge finally, his warm cum spilling into you. He stays in you for a moment to catch his breath. He leans down to press kisses to your bare shoulder, nipping at the skin as he does.

Once you two finally have recovered, Jihoon slowly pulls out of his. You can feel his cum slide out of you as he does and it makes you whimper a bit.

“You were so good for me,” Jihoon coos.

“So you liked it?” You grin at him.

He defeatedly nods. “Yeah, yeah I did.”

“Yay! See Hoonie, look at all the doors this has opened. Maybe we should read more fanfiction together.”

“No, nope. We discovered this one thing, no more.” With that Jihoon gets up to go get you some water and a rag to clean up with.

Despite his final protests, you still feel victorious as you grab your phone and scroll down to the comments of the fic you two were reading.

You’re not going to understand this, but thank you SO MUCH for writing this fic, you’re the best <3

taglist: @pandorashbox @leejihoonownsmyheart @soonhoonietrash @chaimi-yuta @embrace-themagic @kayleeshinee @joonsytip @heyxxitsxxtay @synthetickitsune @chwecardcaptor @candidupped @dreamhannies @d0nghyck @niyizh @baldi-2 @enhacolor @noniestars @heavenly-mobo @sunnyteume @debsworld23 @m1nghaos @just-here-to-read-01 @blxckswxnxge @17kwans @jeanjacketjesus @x-veex @namjoonbaby @ovai @belladaises @todorokiskitten @jihoonliker @valentxi @1694 @niktwazny303 @brxzilianbaby @moshiyuron @im-gemmy @honeylovemoon @wonchansbrooklynn @opwolfe @luvthatleader-nim @cbgisland @lorde-oftherings @hoeforcheol @hotricewoozi @prpldahy @nox-writes @wujihoons @0717luv @yeosayang @marzmeltdown @calvinkleinhoon

join my taglist: here!

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justtryingtobecreative · 1 year

Text

Neteyam x human reader

Chapter 2

(Tw: Smut, Rough, Size kink)

Link part 1 at the bottom! I think if these chapters keep going well im going to make it a 6 part story! I would love to share some more smut and actual plot with you!

It was a few hours later that Kiri came hurdling through your bedroom door, "You won't believe what happened!" She yelled before planting herself on your freshly cleaned bed.

You sat up with interest placing your book down next to you, your face scrunching up at the movement. "Well you have to tell me now!" You exclaimed trying to match her enthousiasm.

She didn't seem to notice your struggle as she leaned toward you like she was sharing the greatest secret ever, her placing her blue hands on your shoulders "Neteyam. was. in. a. fight!" She laughed loudly at her own words, "He came home like two hours ago, all bruised up!"

Your heart jumped in your stomach, "What?" You mumbled. Apparently he had found an excuse.

"Yup! He came home like he hadn't been out all night, and Neytiri about threw a fit when he wouldn't tell her who did it!" Kiri smirked. "It was very rewarding to see him rebel against the parents, he's normally such a 'perfect son'."

Jup the perfect son who had said and done the most unholy things to you just the night before...

You shook your head, feeling guilty at the thought of Neteyam having to lie to his parents. You knew he strived to be a worthy succesor, you doubted this whole ordeal had been worth the hassle for him.

You let out a sigh, "What did Jake say? Was he very mad?" You asked softly.

Kiri rolled her eyes. "Well honestly he wasn't thrilled at first, but when he heard Neteyam had won the fight and he knew Neytiri wasn't watching he just gave him a pat on the back."

You let out a sigh of relief, "That's good"

"He always gets away with so much more than us," She complained. Dramatically draping herself over your pillows, raising her head to look at you.

"Oh yes i almost forgot to ask, tommorow the other Na'vi from the clan and us are going to the Hallelujah mountains! Did you want to come?" She asked excitedly.

You gave her a doubtfull look, you really didn't want to face Neteyam yet.

"Oh come on y/n pleassee! Neteyam probably won't even be allowed to attend!" Kiri pleaded, she had probably mistaken your curiosity about her brother as hostile... not whatever it actually was.

"Okay... fine" you finally murmured, honestly suprised you were able to resist her puppy dog eyes so long.

"Good! Lo'ak said he would pick you up after dropping of spider, you better be ready Y/n because the warriors are going to do a race on their ikrans again!" Kiri ranted, you somehow catching the whole thing.

"Wait wow, they allowed them to race again? After what happened last time?" You lifted your eyebrows in suprise, suprised Jake had been so lenient.

"Well he kind of has too! It's a holy ceremony, so however dangerous it is it's still in the name of Eywa!" Kiri shrugged.

"Now do you still want me to show you my new book?" You said to change the subject.

Kiri nodded excitedly and jumped to sit beside you.

~~~

You stood in front of the human lab in the dewy morning air, droplets of water still covering the plants around you. The sun still low in the sky, casting a warm light on the landscape.

It felt strange to look at your surroundings freely without the usual glass in front of your face, the new and improved mask Norm had made 'finally' fool proof. Now it just existed of an oxygen wire and a little machine clipped too your pants.

You had taken the rest of yesterday for yourself giving yourself a much needed relaxing bath. Honestly the aching muscles and other aching bits on your body still remained, not to mention the bruises and hickeys almost everywhere. You and Neteyam hadn't noticed instantly but you were sure he was covered as well.

A whistle pierced the air, startling you as Lo'ak's Ikran landed next to you, his mouth pulled into an inviting grin "Come on 'sky demon', we need to get to the others!" He yelled holding out a hand toward you, lifting you up to sit behind him.

Your dress thankfully covered any other hickeys and bruises as your legs were mostly unharmed. You had put on a blouse over it, the thin fabric covering your neck and arms nicely.

"You allright y/n? You seem off today." Lo'ak said softly, the boy was honestly too sweet sometimes. And he was indeed correct about you being quiet, you were normally much more talkative with him.

"Yup, still tired i guess" you just replied, hoping he wouldn't question you more.

"Hey i still wanted to ask you about Net...." he was interupted by a large amount of whoops and yells. The other Na'vi circling the two of you.

"Hey lovely sky demon! It's been a while since you joined us isn't it?" Mi,ak a younger na'vi waved at you with a smile, the jest more of a joke than a serious insult.

"Yup! Been a while! But here i am!" You yell at her, thankfull your lips didn't even come close to Lo'aks ears in this position.

The boy lands the ikran on a big ledge of one of the flying mountains, a large group allready gathered there. Spider and Kiri running up to the two of you.

"Y/n! There you are!" Kiri yelled with an excited Tuk hanging on her arm, "You better get off quick, they are going to start soon!" Spider yelled as he helped you off the large animal, carying you off and setting you on the ground.

Tuk held your hand tightly the moment you got off, dragging you along with her to the crowd"I'm so excited!," She yelled loudly.

Lo'ak waved at the other two as he quickly turned around and moved his ikran to the large group gathered on the edge of the mountain.

It was interesting how many different colour ikran there were, today they seemed almost peacefull. It had been strange to see the animals in a group not meant for war, a melancholy settling in your stomach at the sight.

The warriors were lining up at the edge of the platform, their bodies covered in war paint and more practical clothing than normal.

Confusion circled your stomach as you spotted another familiar Ikran in the midst of the chaos. "Oh my god, is that Neteyam?" You asked softly a flabbergasted expression on your face as you stared at the man.

"Yup! It totally is! NETEYAM!" Tuk screamed so loudly it almost blew your eardrums out. He swiveled around to look at her, his eyes instantly on your form.

He caught your eye, the two of you lost in the other for a second. He seemed so much older as he sat on the ikran, his riding visor set on his hairline and a thick leather piece clasped around his waist. His shoulders seemed broad, and his jawline seemed so strong. He looked like a true warrior.

Even from here you could see the scratches, bruises and hickeys across his body. You doubted another person would know what those were, you had never seen another Na'vi with any.

Jake, Neytiri and the other older Na'vi were stood next to him, Jake having switched his usual huge ikran with a normal sized one. Neteyam barely seemed any smaller than them from this distance.

It scared you how grown up he seemed to get, you knew you didn't belong in his future. Or at least the future his parents intended him to have.

Kiri gave you a sheepish smile as she leaned over, "Yeah, he suddenly insisted on coming this morning. I kind of forgot to tell you."

You opened your mouth to respond,...

"Allright! Today the riding Na'vi are racing their ikran to the Sljikla tree located on the other side of the halleluyah mountains." An older male you recognised as Heliruin yelled toward the remaining crowd of people stood in front of him, he had a fucked up knee from an ill placed bullet in the war. That was probably why he didn't compete.

"Now before you go there! You have to grab a marker from both of the other islands, he lifted up two pieces of red and yellow cloth "There are just enough for all of you, so if anyone grabs two your disqualified!"

"You are competing for the honor of victory and for a token dedicated to your win!" He finally yelled, the crowd roaring at the beaded sting he held in the air, a rare red gem hanging on the end.

"Now we wil start on three,

One.

Two.

Three!"

Chaos ensued as all the Ikran set off into the sky, the contestants all trying to slow down the others instantly. This meant pushing, kicking and throwing things at the other contestants. Which was the thing that caused a collision with a rock last year.

"Whooo you all got this!" Tuk yelled loudly, you only able to stare at your blue guy currently in the lead with your heart in your throat. He went impossibly fast in grabbing the markers, the others struggling to keep up. He moved like a warrior, his ikran following his lead like another limb.

You were pulled out of your thoughts as an ikran you recognised as Jake's tried to pull in front of Neteyam and cut him off. He seemed unfaced though so your heart calmed down a bit as he expertly moved across the mountains.

Finally Neteyam touched down on the ground in front of the tree, you just barely being able to see him place a palm on the tree. Jake wasn't far behind, touching the tree after him.

You looked around you at the crowd, the world seeming to slow down for a second. You noticed a few things all at once, Na'vi skin was beautifull in the sunlight, There were really a lot of beautifull women in the clan, and alot of them really liked your big blue guy.

You let out a shaky sigh, what had you done sleeping with him. You had really set yourself up for future heartache when he chose a Na'vi mate in the end.

Your friends all yelled loudly, you being more distracted by your thoughts.

~~~

It was another while before Neteyam, Jake and the rest arrived back at the ledge. You remained a bit behind the group, a bit too unsure of yourself to greet him first. It seemed Neteyam was first, afterwards Jake, after him Neytiri then two unknown riders and then Lo'ak.

The father and son jumped of the Ikran first, the other Na'vi coming over to congratulate him. Someone placing the token in his hand during. The other Sully kids gathered around their older brother, him strangely just looking around in the crowd in thought.

Neytiri who had also stepped of her Ikran looking at the young man in confusion. "You allright son?" She asked placing a hand on her grown son's shoulder.

"Yep I'm fine," He murmured obviously stil not listening as he looked around, growing more desperate by the second.

The other Na'vi seemed confused at his strange demeanor as well. You frowned in confusion, as he pushed a few other Na'vi out of his way.

Jake went to follow him, but was stopped by the crowd.

Neteyam's gaze hit yours in a flash, a relieved expression on his face as he finally looked into your eyes.. The world went quiet around you two as he walked toward you. Your heart beat reverberating through your body and your body relaxing as you looked at him.

He was on you in seconds, placing his hands on your waist and pulling you into an embrace. "I missed you, He murmured into your hair breathing in softly, "I won this for you" he muttered as he hesitatingly let you go of your hand to give you something.

The beaded string hit your palm softly, the red gem shining beautifully in the light. You stared at him and it with wide eyes, Neteyam just giving you a nervous smile.

"Well...wow... thank you so much. I love it." you finally settled on as you pulled his head down to give him a peck on the cheek. He blushed as well, his cheeks turning purple as a large smile spread on his cheeks. His hands softly stroking your waist.

"Let me put it in your hair, he muttered as he gathered a large strand of hair in his hands, expertly tying the bead into your hair. His hands carressing way more of your neck than neccesary during.

A warmth filled your stomach as you stared at his concentrated face.

The act was usually only reserved for mated people but he didn't seem to care, a satisfied smile appearing on his face as he stood back to behold his handiwork. The thin hair wrap blending in well with your hair, but standing out enough for people to notice.

Neither of you really acknowledged the crowd around you until it was a bit too late, a cough interrupting the two of you. Neteyam instantly moving in front of you at the interuption. Him calming down at the familiar face.

"Uhm bro, you might want to take this elsewhere" Lo'ak whispered as he gestured to Jake and Neytiri who were staring wide eyed at the two of you, a confused Norm quickly being called over by the Sully matriarch,

"Yup, he's right" You murmured as you saw a few other people in the crowd start staring too. Neteyam seemed annoyed he had to let you go, slowly pulling his hands of your waist.

Lo'ak grasped his brothers arm, "I'll distract them bro," He gave his brother a teasing look. "Then you might finally get over yourself and just kiss her." he let out a mocking laugh. "Allthough i doubt that"

Little did he know what they had done allready, you noticed Neteyam hide a smirk aswell.

The older of the two released a sigh at his brothers antics, but patted him on the back anyway before the boy left.

"lets go over there" Neteyam murmured as he pointed to a small alcove in the rock. You would be totally hidden from sight there, unless someone walked in that is.

He grasped your hand and pulled you toward it, Lo'ak starting to tell an heavily embelished 'war story' to distract the crowd. Effectively distracting the parents so you could slip away.

You were around the corner first, turning your body around to face him. "I'm not sure how were going to hide this anym..." you couldn't finish your sentence, his lips interupting you mid sentence as they covered yours in a sudden kiss. His tongue softly licking your lips as you opened up your mouth to let him slip his tongue in.

He groaned in your mouth, a hand grasping your ass automatically. You whined into his mouth, before he seperated from you for a second, leaving you hot and bothered.

"I'm really sorry, but this new oxygen mask, i just really neede..." He murmured guiltily, you interupting him this time as you jumped up in his arms wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down toward you.

He let out a low growl, when you pulled at one of his braids. His arms wrapped under your thighs as he lifted you up. You wrapping your legs around him ignoring the discomfort between your legs to harshly rub against him.

A deep growl reverberated from his mouth as Neteyam deepened the kiss pressing your back against the wall as he grinded against you this time. His bare chest rubbing against your clothed one, you really wishing you could press your naked one against him again.

"I would take you right here, but...." he let out a shaky sigh, "You really need to rest, we really pushed you hard for our first time" He mumbled into your ear.

"Do you remember? My cock pressed deep into you, stretching you out so well?" He breathed out the words, a distant look on his face as he was lost in thought. You startled as you felt a bulge start to form under his loincloth, it pressing increasingly hard at your now moist panties.

"Uhm...Neteyam?" You squeeked, your voice turning higher than you wanted. He startled from his thoughts accidentally grinding against you more.

You let out a moan, as his bulge pressed against your core. "Please tell me to stop, i can't hurt you." He sadly murmured in your ear softly as he rutted against you.

You shook your head "This is fine, we just.." you let out a wanting moan. "We just can't.... you can't put your cock in me." You struggled to keep your voice normal.

You felt your body becoming warmer every second, his rough loincloth rubbing your clothed clit every time he came into contact. You both started to move faster against eachother, him groaning harshly into your mouth.

Your throat failed you as you let out the most ungodly moan, just as his erection slipped out from his loincloth and slid across your clothed folds. It's head softly sitting between your moist thighs.

You stared at him with half lidded eyes, your body deciding for you as you automatically slid your thighs back and forth over his member. His groaning continuing harshly, you feeling him start to shake.

You felt his hand enter your panties for a second, his fingers just raking across your wet folds before he suddenly took it out. You whined at the sensitive feeling, looking wide eyed as he licked his fingers clean.

Your teeth grazed his bottom lip, as you placed your lips over his. His face dwarving yours, his mouth way bigger than your own. That didn't stop him when he ran his tongue through your mouth, put it back in his own before collecting your combination of saliva on his tongue and sticking it back in your mouth.

You moaned softly at the strange taste.

The remaining shame you had both felt was gone as you lost yourselves in eachother. It must have been an obscene sight as his cock was pressed between your thighs and you devoured eachother messily. Both of your moans and the sucking and smacking sounds echoeing in the cave.

Neteyam grasped your blouse, pulling it open too reveal your allready bruised neck. He worked his mouth over the supple flesh, sucking harshly.

"You know you are mine, and your rubbing me so good." He cooed as his blue hand stroked your cheek, "Wouldn't it just be riviting if one of our clan mates saw us here, they would walk in and they would see you covered in my spit. Grinding on my cock" he sighed softly.

"They would know your mine instantly," He closed his eyes in bliss his pace growing harder and faster.

His cock sliding harshly across your abused folds was mind numbing, your mind so far gone you could barely think.

"I'm all yours big guy," you whispered as you looked into his big golden eyes, his pupils dilating again as his movements became eratic whilst he neared his orgasm.

"And you own me." He murmured as he harshly pressed you against the wall one last time, you feeling his sticky seed spill between your legs.

He let out a shaky sigh as he enjoyed the aftereffects of his orgasm, it almost being hypnotising to see him release himself on your body.

He softly tucked his now softened member back in his loincloth, giving you a sudden shy smile.

"Now i really want to pleasure you aswell" Neteyam murmured, as he started to kiss down your body.

Footsteps echoed through the cave as someone neared their secret spot. You both looking at eachother with wide eyes.

You pulled down your dress over your now sticky thighs, ignoring the warm feeling of his cum in your underwear.

Neteyam wiped your and his mouth with his hand, quickly placing you on your feet, jumping away from you instantly.

The familiar face of two of your friends, Mi,ak and Siatam entered the cave the female Na'vi startling at the two of you stood inside the small space.

"Oh hello there you two! Were you having a private conversation again?" Mi,ak said with a raised eyebrow. Siatam smiled as well, "Guys you should really talk to other people and not just yourselves! You two are way too close friends" She teased with a smile.

The two of you were known for being close friends and sneaking of to talk with eachother a lot, to your friends this wasn't strange behaviour at all. You never knew your innocent escapades from before could mean so much more now.

Luckily they didn't seem to see the change.

"Oh wel no not at all private! Haha.. were were just talking about the competition!" You somehow came up with an excuse, Neteyam giving you an impressed smile at your quick thinking.

Mi,ak and Siatam smiled broadly "Now Neteyam i have to admit that this was impressive even for you! You bested your father like it was nothing!" Mi,ak complimented, placing a tentative hand on Neteyam's shoulder. "You are a very mighty warrior.

He brushed of her hand instantly, instead grasping your arm and tugging you with him.You smiled awkwardly, very uncomfortable with the situation.

Mi'ak didn't seem to notice his rejection, only strolling after the two of you as you excited the cave. Still raving about his riding skills.

You looked around the crowd quickly, no one really noticing the strange pair and their temporary dissapearance. Except when your eyes met cold ones on the other side of the crowd, you instantly recognising them as Neytiri's, you quickly distanced yourself from Neteyam, softly nudging him to Mi'ak. He stumbled a bit accidentally getting a bit too close to the other Na'vi who stroked a hand across his chest again before joining her other friends.

When Neteyam looked back at you in confusion you slightly nudged your head toward his father. Neteyam's nodding in understanding.

He gave you a soft look before strolling toward his other friends, glancing behind him to stare at you during.

~~~

You and Neteyam had spend that whole day and the two after stealing secret glances at eachother. Jake, Neytiri and now Norm were not taking their eyes of the two of you for one second, them basically locking the two of you up night and day.

They couldn't possibly know everything that had happened. But you were sure the hair wrap had been the final nail in the coffin.

They had began pushing you and Spider together again, them constantly teaming the two of you up for things.

You noticed they had done the same to Neteyam as the boy now only seemed to do two things, which was dully strolling behind Mi'ak as they got teamed up for something random or full on glaring at Spider.

You could honestly say you really missed him, life just seemed so empty without your best friend around. Although Kiri thankfully still managed to cheer you up slightly.

It was around the end of the third day that they finally dropped their constant surveilance on the two of you.

The Metkayina clan had decided to visit your tribe the following week, the tribe had aided a lot during the Na'vi vs the sky people war. You and the other kids had all fought with them, it was a time with a lot of tears and blood spilled and none of the others really enjoyed talking about it.

You had been the only human they had tolerated there, this only after you risked your life to save the little kids of the tribe who were almost killed by a stray soldier. Spider was almost thrown to the sharks after he tried to save Quaritch, so they probably still kind of loathed him for that.

Anyway, considering the preperations of the celebration, sleeping arrangements and sustenance the 'adults' had gone on a frantic rampage to get everything ready in time.

And this made it that when you had locked eyes across the camp, and when the parents looked away you both snuck of to the only place no one would be at that time.

One of the extra halls attached to the old human base had been a pool, which was basically a 'cleaner' lake. The other scientists made sure it was still functional, as they still used it for excerise often.

This was one of the places you didn't have to wear a mask, and so Neteyam had practically forced the two of you over here.

"Why exactly did you want to meet here again?" You murmured as you turned your head to look at the large alien behind you. He just shrugged avoiding the question before placing the oxygen tank down and taking a hefty puff through the mask.

You turned to look at the pool, the water seeming strangely blue because of the tiles at the bottom. It was actually quite a deep pool you could barely see the bottom on the deep end of the pool, luckily a sort of ramp style made it that the pool became way less deep on the other end.

A lot of the lights had stopped working over the years, as now only the lights in the pool still remained functional. You noticed the water gave the room a blue tint as the reflection of the soft ripples shone on you and Neteyam.

You startled out of your thoughts as your blue alien reached around you to unbutton your pants. You let out a squeek as his hands shamelessly explored your body. "You wear too much clothes." he whispered in your ear.

"No i don't, and you can't allways rip my clothes off" you teased, a blush rising on your cheeks.

"Hm, i wouldn't mind making you new ones" he murmured as his eyes scanned your legs, you squirming under his gaze. His gaze grew more intense as you kicked of your now unbuttoned pants slowly lifting up your tanktop.

He instantly laid his warm hand on your belly his palm almost covering it entirely. You shivered at the sudden touch. "You are so soft.." he murmured to himself. He grasped onto the little bit of fat on the underside of your stomach, "I want to feel this against me again soon."

You blushed bright red as you swatted as his hands, "Neteyam! You can't just suddenly say stuff like that" you murmured.

His yellow eyes seemed almost green in the blue light, a smile circling his lips. "You are mine, and you are beautifull and soft, and i have the right to tell you that," he spoke in english this time, his Na'vi accent still visible through the words. His warm hand stubbornly remaining on your stomach as he gave you an intense stare.

Neteyam was suprisingly possesive these days, and you honestly hadn't known your gentle friend had this dominance in him. Not to mention the sudden rebelious streak he was on, actively deceiving his parents to spend time with you.

His hands moved toward your hips, softly pulling your body toward his and bending down to look you in the eye. "You are so small," he mumbled as his breath hit your face.

He placed a little peck on your nose, before his warm mouth slowly covered yours. Him dominating the kiss instantly, softly running his larger tongue through your mouth. You let out a moan, him groaning in response.

His fingers tickled your stomach softly, you letting out a squeel at the familiar action. This something he had done since he figured out as you were kids what a fun reaction he got by doing it.

He and Lo'ak often did things like that when you were kids.

A sudden idea struck you as you pulled his hands of your hips, allowing yourself to quickly slip downward making an escape as you ducked out from under him.

"Y/n?" He asked confused as he looked around to see where you ran off too. His gaze caught on a ripple in the water, him walking over to the edge to look for you, unknowingly peering into the blue abyss.

You smirked as you slowly snuck up behind him ducking down and using one of his hunting skills he had taught you when you were both young teens. The skill now proving usefull as you steadied yourself and pushed out your hands, your big blue alien letting out a scream and spashing water everywhere as he stumbled into the pool.

You laughed loudly as his head popped out from under the waves, revealing an annoyed looking Neteyam with his braids now clung to his skin.

"Your going to pay for that!" He yelled loudly, a gleefull smile revealing he wasn't actually all that annoyed with you. The sight familiar to you as you imagined a younger Neteyam doing the same, his round face and tiny body now replaced with a strong jawline and broad shoulders.

You had played like this all the time when you were kids and it was kind of nice to kind of relive that now.

His gaze turned gentle as he swam to the edge, "What are you thinking about?" He murmured, leisurely crossing his arms over the edge and placing his chin down on top.

You let out a sigh, "I guess i was just reminicing a little." You sat down next to his arms, placing your feet in the water and dangling them slightly.

Neteyam nodded softly, keeping his gaze fixed on your face.

"Do you remember going to the lakes when we were kids?" You asked, softly caressing one of his now soaked braids.

A smile spread on his lips as he gained a distant look in his eyes, "I don't think i can ever forget all that joy and happiness, we might have been young but i still remember a lot from back then." His hand grasped yours giving it a little squeeze.

"I was just afraid that all that trauma from the war might have overshadowed that," you murmured softly, thinking back to all the loss and death you had all endured so young. "Some things are still a bit muddled sometimes,"

You thought back to the time that you had gone to save Spider from the sky people. You, Lo'ak and Neteyam sneaking into the poachers boat and somehow succeeding to retrieve the other boy. Only for one of their men to show up at the last second to shoot at them, he had actually managed to hit Neteyam if it wasn't for the fact you managed to push him in the water just in time.

The only problem being that you had not taken into account that the guy would switch to swinging his gun around when his bullets ran out.

Which was how you got your lights punched out before you were plunged into the water, the guy thinking you were dead. Neteyam had looked behind him to find you, only to find your lifeless form floating right next to him.

Que the most horrifying moment ever when he thought you were dead, still dragging your body right to the nearest shore. He had basically screamed at his brother that he had forced them to go rescue Spider. When he finally calmed down a bit they recruited Tsureya to stay with your body, as they couldn't find a pulse.

Neteyam had basically gone on a murder spree, murdering a LOT of people as revenge. You scaring Tsureya's socks off as you suddenly started moving again.

Needless to say, it was a pleasant suprise for your blue alien when he returned to find you very much concussed but still alive. He had basically been your nurse the entire time you got better. Staying beside you even when you insisted he rested himself.

That was when he had first started acting strange around you allready.

You felt Neteyam squeeze your hand, pulling you from your memories. "Your thinking about the war aren't you? You do that alot these days." He murmured softly giving you a meaningfull stare.

You shrugged, averting your gaze "Don't you do it too? Especially now things changed between us."

Neteyam let out a breath, "Yes, i do. But mostly at night... when you aren't with me" His grip on your hand tightened before he spoke again. "I have a lot of nightmares these days, about.. uhm.. about losing you."

You turned to him in suprise, "About what happened back at the ship?"

He flinched before nodding, avoiding your gaze as you tried to look him in the eyes.

You slid yourself over to him, him instantly making space for you to sit on the edge in front of him.

"Teyam?" You murmured as you grasped his chin toward you, "I'm here now." You placed a kiss on his nose before placing your forehead on his.

He 'innocently' smiled, "Say if i happen to have another one of those Nightmares, you wouldn't mind if i climb into bed with you right?" His warm hands slid over your legs before settling on your hips.

You knew he was joking, but you couldn't help but take what he said seriously. "I would never mind spending time with you Neteyam, whatever the time whatever the place." You gave him a soft smile.

The look on his face warmed your insides as he smiled the biggest you had ever seen him smile. He placed his hands under your arms, lifting you off the edge of the pool and in his arms.

You let out a squeek, not at all expecting the action.Your body suddenly flush against his musculair chest as you wrapped your arms around his neck. His hands sliding downward until he held you up by your thighs.

"So good" you heard him mutter as he drew you as close as you possibly could be, his yellow eyes gaining that primal tint you had seen only once before as he observed your form.

A familiar warmth grew between your legs, you struggling to keep your cool because of it. You really only wanted one thing, and you needed it right now. You needed that delicious fullness right now, you even slightly wanting the pain that came with it.

"Neteyam?" You asked softly as his eyes instantly flashed to yours, "Well uhm... ithinkimreadytohavesexwithyouagain" Your words were impossible to decipher, your big blue guy staring at you with concerned eyes.

"Are you allr..." he began before you cut him off, softly pressing a finger to his lips.

"I... think" you took a deep breath "I'm ready to uhm.. have sex with you.. again." You murmered as you covered your blush with your hands. "Roughly." You added, your mind straying toward the bruises and hard thrusting you had enjoyed the first time.

Neteyam let out a low growl, "Roughly?" He asked, releasing a shaky sigh as you nodded. "I need to hear you say it y/n," He murmured, grasping your face with your hand.

You let out a whine, "I want you to fill me so deeply i can barely breath,.ah... i want you to take control" you finally moaned out,

Your big blue alien stepped backwards a bit, suddenly loosing his footing.

A huge splash of water rippled the pool as Neteyam stumbled, effectively dunking you both under water, totally disorienting you as you went under.

You both reached the surface of the water at the same time, catching your breath. Neteyam instantly scanning around himself to find you. You letting out a loud laugh as his eyes hit yours, splashing him with a little wave of water.

The tension from before momentarily forgotten as you played in the water.

He gave you a comically insulted look, it quickly turning relieved as he saw your smile. "You little skang!" He yelled as he used his large arm to send you a wave, it washing over you instantly.

"Oh come on, this is not a fair fight!" You exclaimed loudly, teasingly kicking him in the shin.

He let out an exaterated whine before he threw his body toward you picking you up under your arms, him dropping you afterwards. You felt some water enter your nose as you went under, you sputtering slightly in suprise.

He lifted you up again, "Shouldn't have contended me, ma y/n." He murmured into your ear, it a reference to the play water fights you would have as children.

He placed his arms around you softly, you both taking a second to just bask in eachothers presence. His arms settled around you in a way you only saw and felt him.

After a short while you felt his breath turn uneven, "Teyam, you really need oxygen" You warned.

Neteyam hesitantly let you go but finally swam toward the other side of the pool lifting himself on the edge before taking a puff of oxygen from the tank.

He turned to look at you, "That was unexpected." he murmured with an humorous smile on his face. Him obviously meaning the tension and then the tumble you guys just took.

"Now this totally killed my mood here, welp guess we'll just go back to the rest." You shrugged, sarcastically turning away from him and starting to swim away.

"OH no you don't," Neteyam yelled jokingly but not that jokingly at the same time.

You laughed, "Well i suppose you'll have to catch me then!" You taunted him giving him a meaningfull look.

He smirked before he walked over to the edge of the water, peering down on your form a little ways ahead.,

You underestimate me little mate! I'll catch you faster than you think!" He exclaimed loudly as you heard a loud splash behind you, Neteyam giving chase.

You swam toward the shallow end of the pool as quickly as your limbs would allow, slowly making your way toward the ramp, the water now coming up to your waist as you waided through at record speed.

You felt him gain on you,

You slowly kept crawling upward the water splashing loudly as you practically threw yourself forward, adrenaline rushing through your body as you heard the sound of his large body getting closer and closer to your smaller form.

You noticed him reach out to grab you a little too late, you stumbling down on your stomach. You were about to sit up too crawl when you were held down by two large legs pinning you too the ground. His large member sitting right on your ass.

"Got you" Neteyam whispered in your ear as his hands pinned yours to the dry part of the ramp, only your bottom half still fully submerged.

"Well, claim your price then my love" You murmured softly as you jokingly shook your bottom at him. He let out an excited growl, rutting against your body roughly. You letting out a moan as you felt his cock slip down, just missing your clothed entrance as it landed between your folds.

He sat on his knees around your legs, your ass pushed upwards toward him. Neteyam letting out a frustrated sigh and simply tearing off your bra and underwear, you letting out a gasp at the sting of the clothes digging into your skin as they tore. He threw the shreds somewhere to his right before reaching his hand down and placing the head of his cock at your entrance.

You shivered at the sudden sensitivity of your folds. You whimpering as you tried to dig your nails into the tiled pool. You tried to catch your breath from your running, failing immensely.

He pushed in without warning, you dropping yourself on your stomach with a breathless groan as he filled you to the brim. His large member stretching you out instantly, it feeling like it set aflame every sensitive place in your body all at once.

You tried to catch your breath, gasping heavily as your body adjusted to the large intruder. The filled feeling foreign but familiar as you could feel the tip of his cock reach far into you.

He groaned in your ear "You can't run away from me my mate," his breath uneven as he set a sudden harsh pace, his cock pulling all the way out of you before slamming into you again.

You were slowly pushed forward as he thrusted into you, his hands settled on your waist to keep you still.

You whined under him, your cunt a tingling mess as you took him, you feeling him so deep in your body you could see stars. "Oh god, your so deep" You moaned out, not able to keep the words in.

You tried to push yourself up on your underarms, intending to scootch yourself forward a bit. Him sliding out of you a little as you moved away from him.

You were pulled back harshly, a deep voice whispering in your ear. "Stay here" Neteyam demanded as he pulled your arms behind you, your body angling backwards as he slammed into you again, you feeling your belly rub against the tile with every thrust. His pace became more irregulair, you unnable to calculate his next move and completely at his mercy.

This new position drove him right into your sweet spot, your orgasm approaching fast and your eyes growing hazy as your surroundings went blurry. You let out a highpitched moan, your body shaking terribly as your cunt squeezed his cock uncontrollably.

Neteyam let out a feral groan, pushing your body back down practically laying on you as he drove himself in and out of you. He was animalistic as he growled and hugged your body to his in a posessive embrace.

You had never felt him like this, but you couldn't help but like it as he dominated your body in every sense. It was like your mind grew empty for a second, the only thing in your mind the hot pleasure coursing through your veins and the satisfying feeling of fullness in your stomach.

And every time he growled and ground himself into you, you felt yourself floating farther from your body. Your entire being overtaken by him as you let out unfiltered moans. "Oh please, please, please" you heard your voice come out of your throst even when you didn't remember speaking them.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you really hoped no one would come anywhere near to the back of the human base. It a sure fact that they would hear the absolute massacre taking place. The huge alien rutting into you like a rabid animal, and you taking it like a bitch in heat.

He suddenly slowed down, his pace slower but his thrusts harsher than before as your body was harshly pushed into the tiles, your warm head settled on the cold surface as you let out incoherent words of satisfaction. You were scooted forwards like a rag doll as he moved you at his will. "Yes you are doing so well, my little mate. You are so damn tight." He murmured in your ear again, his warm breath tickling your neck.

You felt him swell up inside of you, your body tingling as Neteyam let out a hoarse moan, his seed spilling inside your womb and pumping it farther into you. The squelching obscene as it echoed through the dark pool.

You felt the knot in your stomach unravel suddenly but harshly as you let out a final moan, your legs shaking even harder than before and your body basically going limp on the tiles. Your brain too fucked out to even think.

The blue light of the pool faded away for a second as black spots covered your vision, a loud ringing filling your ears.

"Y/n, ...re .... allright?" You heard Neteyam ask you something, but your mind struggled to figure out what he had said.

You frowned in confusion as you felt Neteyam shake you a bit, "Y/n..please.. r...ond.." a panicked tone filtered in his words, you feeling his weight lift off of your limbs.

You curled your legs into your chest, placing your arms under yourself but letting out a whimper as you failed to sit up. Your heartbeat soared in your ears, it like a drum as it pounded in your head. His eyes widening as your eyes rolled upward, your vision fading.

"Y/N?" Neteyam's loud shout echoed through your mind. Your eyes shot open, revealing your big blue guy above you you as his palms softly hit your cheeks to keep you awake. "Teyam?" You murmured softly, a relieved look on his face as you acknowledged him.

You felt his arms slip around your body as he gently lifted you of the ground, you blinked.

When you opened your eyes again, you were cradled in Neteyam's arms. Your naked body flush against his. One of his arms holding you steady and the other one supporting your head. You weren't in the pool anymore, now sitting on the tile by your clothes. You stared around with dumbfounded eyes, "W..What happened?" You asked weakly.

Neteyam stared at you with worried eyes "You just didn't respond, i didn't know what to do." He mumbled softly as tears filled his eyes, slowly running down his cheeks. "I was just so worried, I'm so sorry." he murmured into your still damp hair.

You softly pushed your forehead against his, "It's not your fault," You let out a slow breath before sitting up in his arms.

"Why did you pass out? Did i push you too far?" He asked worriedly.

You shook your head, "No, no, not at all, i think i pushed myself too far... you did... amazing."

You leaned forward, softly kissing away his tears. A soft smile circling your lips afterwards, as you softly pressed the tip of your nose to the spots on his face.

"You felt so good, it was like i lost my mind. It was like something came over me." His eyes were still wild, no doubt still calming down from his orgasm.

"I had the same, you really are mine" You murmured in his ear,

Neteyam's eyes met your own again, his eyes soft and so filled with affection you could barely breathe. "I see you." He murmured softly, as he placed his hand on your cheek.

"I see you" you murmured, placing your arms around his warm chest as he did the same. You stayed in his embrace for a while as you both calmed down from your high both in the emotional and in the physical sense.

After a while you both got up, your body aching in so many places you would surely have to check in a mirror later. You slowly put on your clothes, your big blue guy keeping a close eye on you during.

"I really hurt you..." Neteyam murmured as he trailed his fingers over the allready forming bruises on your arms and legs

His fingers slowly brushed over to your neck, his hands tracing a few spots there. "I have marked you here as well." He did seemed pleased at 'that' thought, his stance instantly growing taller as he observed the love bites on your neck.

You finished dressing quite quickly, you both finally ready to sneak out the pool. "Shit" you cursed as you stared at the black nothingness.

Neteyam looked at you in confusion, "What is it?"

"Look outside"

...."Shit"

You quickly grabbed his hand dragging him with you as you entered the dark hallway. Him just allowing himself to move with you as you peered around the narrow passages thankfully able to navigate in the dark.

"We have to move quickly here" you murmured as you stuck your head out into the main hall, quickly peering around to see if you saw any scientists wandering around thankfully seeing the corridor entirely empty.

You pulled him into the hallway, slowly crouching/crawling under the windows to the labs, you knowing that some of the human workers liked to work late.

You had no idea what time it was, but you sincerily hoped it wasn't past nine yet. Neytiri, Jake and Norm would trow a fit if they appeared past curfew again.

The pair of you slowly neared the avatar room where the big metal door leading outside was located, his big blue form sticking out like a sore thumb as they sneaked past the various hallways leading there.

You crouched beside the doorframe, peering into the room. It was silent in there safe for the occasional snore, you looking back at Neteyam to see if he heard anything. He gave you a silent nod, slowly moving in front of you this time as he grasped your smaller hand in his to guide you forward. You both sneaking past the giant tanks, one of them containing Kiri's mother..which was honestly quite weird.

You finally had the door in sight, Neteyam reaching forward to grab the handle as you both stood up. "Goodni...." you were interupted by his lips on your own as his large hand cupped your face. You gasped as his tongue entered your mouth, him groaning as your teeth grazed his lips.

You felt yourself get carried away, him apparently having the same problem as he harshly slammed your back against the wall. Your legs wrapped around his waist pulling him toward you as his hands roughly kneaded your behind.

"Okay... we... should.. really stop" You mumbled between kisses. Neteyam only letting out an dejected moan before unwillingly pulling away from you, softly setting you back down on your feet.

"I shall see you tommorow" He murmured giving you one last kiss and stepping out the door.

Your private moment being way less private than the both of you thought.

(Welp! That was part two! Again please let me know if you liked it! I think I will only do a part 3 if you guys want me to! Also let me know if i need to be more descriptive, I am sometimes not sure if i put enough.)

Link to part 3:

Link to part 1!:

#smut #Neteyam #neteyam x reader #Na'vi x human reader #avatar x reader #avatar x human reader #size kink #exhibtionist

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yesimwriting · 2 years

Note

The reader seems to be really close to billy and stu , so it got me thinking , what if she had little rituals with them ... like kissing their noses or rubbing their backs , and what if she got possessive of them and in a game of 7 minutes in heaven ou something she just makes out with billy or stu ( bcs in order to be with dark murderous freaks you have to be a freak yourself ...i dont make the rules)

Like imagine billy : im mf special 😏

a/n omg?? i love this!! this concept is adorable :)) i got so excited i put off writing my lit essay lol, this became A LOT longer than I thought it would be lol

also do y’all like first or second person narration better?? i definitely like writing first person more in chapter fics, but in drabbles/one-shots i change my mind all the time. I did a little of both here lol

---

The pile of homework I've been working on seems like it'll never end. Like there will always be another packet that needs to be completed or another essay I need to write.

Something behind me shifts. The noise is soft and easy to dismiss, but my body turns instinctually anyways. After what happened to Casey, there's no such thing as being too sure.

With a sigh, my entire body eases as I realize what the source of the noise is. It's just Billy and Stu, magically appearing like they often do on my windowsill. Stu's already inside my room, sitting on the edge of my window, his feet firmly plated on the floor. Billy's leaning against it, his lower half still outside.

Normally, when they show up like this, I grin and urge them to come in faster. "What are you guys doing here?" The way Stu pauses and the look Billy gives me tells me that they weren't expecting that reaction. "I told you guys--not today. I have a ton of homework and like half my family is visiting. My cousins have no concept of boundaries because they're like seven and they barge in here all the time. They're also snitches, the last thing I need is them running to the kitchen and telling their mom that 'Y/n has boys in her room'."

Stu holds up his hands in defense as he stands. "Relax, we're just here for our goodnight kisses."

I turn, adjusting the notebook on my lap as I look at them skeptically.

"We'll leave right after if you want us to," Billy says, pulling himself up onto my windowsill.

Still unsure, I twist my pen between my fingers. "I will want you guys to." My tone is a little harsher than I want it to be. Stu seems a little tenser and Billy's expression clouds. "No, that came out wrong. It’s not that I want you gone, it’s that I’m trying to be practical.”

"You didn't want us coming over earlier," Stu mumbles, something harsh behind his eyes, "And we barely saw you yesterday."

"Yesterday wasn't my fault. You two went out with Tatum and Sid." I adjust my hold on my notebook. "And I didn't want you guys over earlier today because of homework. Literally all I've done today is go to lunch with my family and homework." Their unease settles in my stomach like a rock. I sigh, pushing my notebook off of my lap. "Okay, come here."

At that, Stu breaks out into a grin. He crosses my room in a few long steps. Once he reaches me, he sinks into my waiting arms. I hug him tightly before he can decide that all isn’t forgiven, burring my face into the side of his neck. He's so warm and always smells so much like him. Like expensive fabric softener, a little bit of body spray, and usually a tiny bit like weed. On anyone else the combination wouldn't work, but on Stu, it makes me feel right at home.

One of my hands runs up and down Stu's back. He eases into the contact. The shirt he's wearing is soft. There's little I love more than Stu's well worn, rich kid T-shirts. I'm already plotting how to steal it from him.

I lean my head upwards, pressing a kiss against his jaw. His eyes flutter shut as I leave a trail of kisses up his cheek and to his temple like I always do.

Billy must have come in while I was distracted. He's lingering next to us, watching with a blank expression. I learned early on that while Billy hates asking for physical contact, he loves receiving it. If I had to take a guess, Billy's hesitance likely comes from his home life, but I'd never say that out loud.

"Okay, Stu," I hum, my nails brushing through his hair, "You're good." His hold on me tightens. "Stu, c'mon." With a bit of a pout, he straightens just enough to place a kiss on my forehead. He's watching me carefully, silently asking me for a few more minutes. "Billy's turn."

Stu frowns, looking like he's sincerely weighing his options. "Fine," he mumbles, placing one last kiss against the side of my head.

Once Stu lets me go, he slumps back onto my bed, laying across my mattress on his back. That does make me a tiny bit nervous because the more comfortable Stu gets, the less likely he is to leave.

I reach over, grabbing Billy's wrist. Gently, I pull him towards me. He lets me. Like always, at first Billy's slow before reciprocating with full force. He melts into my touch, pressing his face into my neck. My fingers trace patterns against his back.

"Missed this," I whisper the admission.

"We missed you, too," Stu replies, hand lazily reaching over for my extended leg. His fingers begin to trace patterns against the skin of my calf. I'd think that the motion was absentminded, but once when I asked him about it, he told me that sometimes he writes out things he wants to do to me. "Soon it'll just be the three of us."

This isn't a conversation that I love. The more they talk about the day where they feel like Sidney and the friend group are stable enough to handle two break ups, the less I believe that that day will ever come. Thinking about it makes me feel like a terrible person.

Billy, sensing that he no longer has my full attention, shifts. He moves impossibly closer, his lips grazing my pulse. I used to jokingly scold him for kissing my neck during times like this before learning that things like that aren't always sexual to him. It's just him at his most relaxed.

My fingers rake through his hair, smoothing it back carefully before placing a series of kisses across his jaw and up his cheek. My trail ends at his temple, like always. The realization that the moment's passing leads to him squeezing me tighter. There's something distinct about his touch today, maybe even a little nervous. That paired with how uncharacteristically quiet he's being leaves me wondering if this ambush visit is a result of something else.

I know he was supposed to do something with his dad this morning. Okay, I need to stop thinking about that before it starts showing on my face. He doesn't like when I worry, he's never said anything, but his hot-to-cold reactions make me think he misinterprets it as pity. If anything, what I feel is anger that I can't walk up to his dad and punch him the face.

"Okay," I hum, "You both got your goodnight kisses...and I have to finish this essay."

"It's Friday," Stu replies, his fingers moving against my skin in what kind of feels like the curve of a 'c'? I'd ask if I wasn't worried about the conversation and mood taking a turn towards something I can't control. "You have two whole days."

I exhale, nails gently scratching at Billy's scalp. "You're throwing a party on Saturday, and Sunday's our first fully free day in over a week. You two aren't going to let me get anything done."

Stu turns his hand, running his knuckles up my leg. "Not true, babe. I've got a whole to-do list for you."

Softly kicking my leg in protest of his joke, I roll my eyes. "It's better for everyone if I just get this stuff done now, especially since you can't sleep over anyways. My little cousins are never in bed when they're supposed to be."

"You can do your homework, Billy and I know how to behave." When I raise an eyebrow at that, Stu concedes, "Okay, we at least know how to entertain ourselves."

Yeah, that's not comforting.

"You guys aren't being fair. I don't remember acting like this when you guys literally went on dates yesterday." I drop my arms away from Billy, ignoring the pinch of guilt that strikes with no warning.

At the lack of contact, Billy sits up. I avoid his gaze. "Is that why you're kicking us out? You're jealous? Upset we're not giving you enough attention?"

"No, I'm kicking you out because there's a group of seven to nine year olds that are super nosy in my house. Especially when it comes to boys. Kennedy's in the third grade and in her crush phase and she's asked me about whether or not I have a boyfriend 50 times."

"Your mom lets us sleep over all the time," Stu defends, "We just need to tell her that our parents did something and she won't care."

My posture straightens in an attempt to seem more determined. "That's different and you know it. She always has you guys crash on the couch and you sneak up later. We can't do that with all my relatives in the house, and you can't show up to my house so late."

Stu doesn't normally see--or at least, doesn't care about--reason, but Billy tends to listen a little more. I look over at him, gauging his expression. I still can't read him as well as he can read me, but I know that the blanker his face is, the more emotion he's feeling.

They're both starting to seem a little weird, maybe a little hurt, and I hate it. I do miss them, I want them here, but it's risky for me. At the end of the day, if my relatives find out, they get to go home. I'm the one that will be in trouble until I graduate.

"Do you really want us to go?" Billy's voice is as flat and void as his expression.

The hollow look he's giving me hurts. "You know I don't." That eerie blankness doesn't go away. "When I lock the door, they just keep knocking until I open it. I guess that gives us time for you two to get into my closet or something."

With that, Billy eases. He's not exactly as relaxed as he was before, but it's a start. I lean forward, grabbing his hand. Stu sits up, shooting up to pull me into another hug. His grin feels smug, but I can't bring myself to call him out on it.

"That's our girl," Stu praises, kissing my cheek.

I press my lips together, fighting a grin. "Wait--there's a condition. You two need to let me finish this essay."

Billy lifts our intertwined fingers to his lips. "Deal."

"You guys are unbelievable." They both look at me expectantly. "Can't believe I'm basically risking my life because I can't go one night without having you two sleepover."

----

Going out with my friends has become extremely bittersweet. I love when the entire friend group's together, but there's just something about seeing Billy and Stu and knowing that things are different. Knowing that they're right there and thousands of miles away at the same time. It's not that we don't talk in public, it's that it's inherently different. And it makes me feel awful.

Each smile I share with Tate and each time I laugh with Sid adds another layer of guilt. It's so bad that both Billy and Stu have had to talk me down from breaking it off with them twice now after large group hang outs.

Whenever I freak out, Billy tells me that this is for the best, that after everything Sidney's gone through, he can't just break up with her while she's still dealing with trauma. The one stable, good thing in her life right now is our friend group. Stu and Tatum breaking up would endanger that as well. Even though keeping these secrets is morally wrong, they're always promising that this is the best way to keep everyone happy. Sid gets the support she needs, Tatum doesn't have to feel weird in the friend group, and we don't have to be heartbroken because of our right person, wrong time situation.

I'm not sure when they started taking a more preventative approach to the whole thing, but now, whenever we have group plans, they make a point of spending some time with me before. Just as a reminder about how they actually feel, I think.

They still haven’t stopped by, which I’m trying to not stress about as I tear my closet apart. Stu’s parties are always crowded and low lit, so what I wear isn’t the biggest deal, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care.

After Billy and Stu left early this morning my entire family headed out so that my extended family could be dropped off at the airport. So now I have the house to myself, which is a good thing for when one gets ready.

I play my music as loud as I want while I take an extra long shower and take my time putting on a face mask. I’m being a little extra about my getting ready routine, but I’m taking advantage of the space and the free time.

Shrugging off my towel, I pull one of Stu’s old shirts over my head. I’ve had this one for awhile but it still smells like him. I shut off my music and throw open my closet door open.

I grab yesterday’s jeans off from the back of my desk chair. I had half a mind to wear them again tonight, but they’re a little over due for a wash. My fingers dig through the pockets as I approach my hamper. There’s no change, but there is a tube of chap stick in the front pocket and a tiny slip of paper in the back.

Unfolding the scrap paper, I fold the jeans over my bent arm. Good luck on your math test - Billy. I grin, thumb and pointer finger pinching the torn piece of paper a little too tightly.

This isn’t the first time I’ve found one of these notes, but each time is equally exciting. It started relatively recently, the appearance of tiny notes in places I’d never expect to find them. In between the pages of books, slipped into my pencil bag, tucked into my folder next to homework assignments, and sometimes directly written into my notebooks. And now, apparently, tucked into the pocket of my jeans.

The notes range in levels of sweetness, some of them motivational when I’m stressed over something, and others a little more flirty. The one I found before this one was about how pretty he thought I looked while walking to class. They’re all well loved, kept in a shoe box under my bed for me to re-read whenever I need a bit of a pick me up.

I go back to my closet, looking through my clothes to find something that looks like I’m in the party mood. If I’m being honest, after such a draining week, I think I’d rather stay home and watch some movies instead of being at a party where Stu and Billy are both going to be with their girlfriends. Normally, that’s not enough to get me out of the party mood, but that paired with how busy I’ve been this week doesn’t have me thrilled for this. At least Randy will be there.

Sighing, I start sorting through my clothes, trying to get myself into a party mood. I’m sure once I have an outfit I like and I fix my appearance, I’ll feel better about this.

I’ve just laid out a few outfit options on my bed when I hear a few familiar taps against the frame of my window. Tamping down a grin, I look up, not even bothering to look surprised. Billy and Stu are already pulling themselves into my room.

“You know, I do have a front door,” I mumble, straightening the skirt I just laid out on my bed.

Stu dramatically sigh, stomping into my room before flopping face first onto my bed. “That’s the hello we get?”

I roll my eyes. “I was just saying.” Stu props his head up on his elbow, looking up at me with criminally soft eyes. I drop my gaze, reaching for the top that he’s now wrinkling. “And you’re messing up my outfits.”

He watches me as I hold out the shirt. “You’re wearing that?”

“I don’t know,” I mumble, ignoring his tone, “I have a few options, but I was thinking this with the dark green skirt.”

Stu rolls onto his back before reaching over for the skirt I’m talking about. He looks at it skeptically. “This skirt?”

“Yep.” Stu didn’t sound too thrilled. “Why? Do you think it doesn’t match? Because I was thinking about that.”

Billy pushes away from the wall he was leaning against. “It’s short, sweetheart.”

I look at him oddly. It’s not insanely short, I mean, I’ve worn shorter. “Not that short,” my eyes look over the fabric that Stu’s still holding, “My mom bought it for me. It’s fine.”

Stu drops his arm. “I’ve seen the way your mom dresses.”

“Are you slut shaming my mom right now?”

“No,” Stu begins lazily, “I’m just saying that that doesn’t mean the skirt’s not too short.”

I didn’t even want to wear this that badly before. “Too short? You guys aren’t my dad.”

“Well, considering what you call u--”

“Oh my god,” I cringe, throwing my shirt in Stu’s direction. The fabric lands against his face. Stu ignores me, pulling it off of him. “What’s the big deal? It’s just a skirt.”

“A skirt that’s going to have people looking at you.” Crossing my arms in front of my chest, I stare at anything but Billy as he approaches me. His hand clasps around my forearm, pulling me a tiny bit forward. “Looking at what’s ours.”

I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that the possessive undertones of the words didn’t make my face feel warm. The hypocrisy, though, almost immediately dismisses that. “So I have to be all okay with you two literally having girlfriends, but the line is drawn at me wearing a skirt you guys think is too short?” He squeezes my arm. “Maybe I want a little attention, it’s not like you guys can give me any tonight.”

Billy’s hold on me goes from casual to nearly painful. His knuckles turn white against my skin and I’m sure that if this goes on for any longer, there are going to be finger shaped bruises there. I meet Billy’s gaze. His eyes have darkened significantly.

“So that’s what the skirt’s about? You’re throwing a tantrum because you’re not getting enough attention?”

This is going downhill fast. I’m going to need to backtrack the hell out of this conversation. “No, I-I was just making a point. It’s a little bit of a double standard, you have to at least be able to admit that.” The lack of emotion in his expression turns my stomach. I force myself to hold his gaze. “It just sucks sometimes, going to these things and seeing you guys with your girlfriends, and then I feel bad about feeling like that because they’re my friends.”

“They’re not our girlfriends, they’re a situation,” Billy’s voice is harsher than it’s ever been while directed at me, “You’re our girlfriend.”

My eyes widen. Despite how close we’ve gotten, the actual ‘g’ and ‘b’ words have not been used. I know I’ve been tripping over myself to avoid calling either of them my boyfriend by accident. His hold hasn’t loosened, but I can’t help my grin. My head tilts to the side, eyes softening as I place a hand over his. “Girlfriend?”

Stu walks up to us. I don’t realize that he’s moving until I feel a hand on my shoulder. “Of course you are, you’re our girl.” He extends an arm, somewhat playfully pushing against Billy’s forearm. “Old Billy boy here wasn’t supposed to just say it like that. We’ve been planning it out, we were gonna ask.” Stu doesn’t release Billy’s arm, “It’s all Billy talks about, might wanna ease off on the love spells, he’s obsessed with you.” Stu squeezes my shoulder, running his thumb across the skin. “All day, it’s ‘you think Y/n’s okay?, Y/n’s hair looked so soft today, we should go see Y/n.’”

Billy throws a look in Stu’s direction, his grip on me loosening. I smile, “Really?”

“Fuck off,” Billy mumbles, shoving Stu. “He’s the one that’s whipped. Sometimes he misses the smell of your perfume.”

I grin despite their odd tension. It doesn’t take much for play fights to turn into something else, something I don’t understand because half of it is unspoken between them. But I love this.

“Okay,” I hum, probably a little too chipper as I step between them, “This is officially my favorite argument the two of you have had.”

They’re both starting to move over to a different world that’s just theirs. I step forward, pulling Billy into a hug. After a second, he reciprocates. I shift, moving to press a kiss to his cheek. “I think about you a lot, y’know.” He’s looking at me calmly, but if I didn’t know any better, I’d think there might be the faintest tinge of color in his face.

“A lot,” he echoes, tone amused.

I grin, nodding once, “Yes, don’t make it a thing.” The way the corner of his mouth turns upwards tells me that he’d be happy to have me spend the rest of tonight unpacking what I mean by that. I tilt my head, looking at Stu, “And you.” Stu’s eyes widen slightly as he waits for me to continue, “Sometimes I miss the way you smell, too.”

Stu’s eyes narrow jokingly, eyes soft, “Really?”

“Why do you think I’m always wearing your shirts?”

He smiles, pulling Billy and I into a hug that thoroughly squishes me between them. Sometimes I wish everything could be as easy as it is in our little bubble.

“Okay,” I begin pointedly, playing up my annoyance, “Watch the hair, I’m still getting ready.” Before they can make anything of that comment, I continue, “Even though I’m my own person and I hate that thing where guys are all like ‘there’s no way you’re wearing that’, I guess there’s nothing wrong with taking into consideration how my boyfriends feel.” Saying that makes me so happy I can’t even bother to hide my grin. “How about a compromise--the jean skirt I wore last week and the top I threw at Stu earlier.”

With a dramatic sigh, Stu drops his forehead onto my shoulder. “You’re going to make tonight impossible.”

He’s exaggerating a little, which is fitting considering sometimes it feels like all it takes to get Stu going is a look that lasts a little too long paired with the tiniest bit of exposed skin. “Sounds like a you problem.”

Stu looks up at me, half glaring at me through hooded eyes. He lethargically smacks the top of my thigh, right where his t-shirt ends. It’s a testament to his easygoing mood, but I can’t help my dramatic gasp.

“What?” Sometimes I think Stu would be insufferable if his smile wasn’t so cute. “If you’re going to be mean, I’m going to be mean back.”

Okay, there’s a chance I am being a tiny bit mean. Did I pick the skirt that had Stu making up a super lame excuse during lunch just so he could get me into a supply closet for a makeout session I had to cut short? Maybe. Was it on purpose? ...I’d like to say no, but honestly, maybe.

“Alright,” Billy interjects, “I know that look in both of your eyes, and we don’t have time for that.”

He’s not wrong. I reluctantly pull away from both of them and go back to getting ready. We’ve fallen into a little bit of a routine. I go through my getting ready to go out routine, and they casually--or not so casually--look around my room. If that isn’t entertaining enough, they patiently follow me around.

It’s kinda cute. Especially if I decide to wear makeup and they ask about whatever it is I’m putting on my face. One of these days I’m going to have to let Stu put eyeliner on me.

By the time I’m almost done, Billy and Stu are still content with looking around my room. I have no idea what they find so interesting about my space, it’s not like it changes often enough to warrant their curiosity. But if it makes them happy to look through my bedside drawer and leaf through whatever notebook or book are left out on my desk, why stop them?

Now that I’m dressed and have given my appearance a once over in the mirror, I’m basically ready. All that I need to do is figure out how to get the clasp of this necklace to just...

“You okay?”

Billy’s sudden appearance at my side nearly makes the chain slip from my fingers. His steps are so quiet sometimes. Honestly, a little more practice and he could play a killer in a movie he’d love. “Yeah, there’s just something about putting necklaces on yourself that’s impossible.”

“Here,” he breathes, fingers barely grazing my neck as he takes the clasp from me. Billy turns the necklace as he steps behind me. He latches the clasp with surprisingly minimal effort. Instead of releasing me, he adjusts the necklace so that the charm sits perfectly centered. Billy leans towards me, pressing a kiss to the top of my head.

Stu, who was previously looking at a framed picture of me at some birthday party when I was little, turns his attention towards us. “Aw, how domestic, you’re like an old, married couple.”

I turn just in time to catch Billy’s meant-to-be dismissive eye roll, but there’s the faintest touch of something else, something that might be a little flustered. It’s gone before I can be sure.

“We’re cute,” I agree, reaching for Billy’s hand to squeeze it once. “Okay, I’m ready, so you guys should go. I’ll show up in about half an hour, give people some time to get there so that nothing looks weird.”

Stu frowns, setting the picture frame back in place. “It’s not that suspicious, we’re friends, you’re punctual.”

I press my lips together. We have our rules in place for a reason, and talking about them too much makes me feel things I really don’t like feeling. “You know why I can’t.”

Billy must notice my shifting mood because he cups my face. “You’re forgetting something before kicking us out.” When I don’t respond right away, Billy kisses my cheek. “In case you needed a reminder.”

Of course. If there’s one thing Billy’s consistent about it’s our little traditions. At first, they were just excuses to be cheesy, especially when I was feeling a little insecure, but now, they’re more significant.

I tilt my head upwards, leaving a trail of kisses up his cheek. Stretching upwards, I then place a kiss on the tip of his nose. He then kisses my forehead. Our goodbye ritual.

“Hey, I’m leaving too.” The fact that I’m surprised that Stu is already within grabbing distance makes me a little too aware of how tired I am.

Pushing against the feeling that begs me to just stay here tonight, I beam at him. He lets me hug him. His hands find their way around my waist and I press kisses against his cheek until I’ve reached his nose. Stu tilts his head down to help me reach him. My body eases as he presses a kiss to my forehead.

“Okay, you guys should go.” Shifting awkwardly and dropping my arms to my side, I tact on a half thought in hopes of making this easier on all of us, “Maybe some time alone will do me some good, help me get into the party mood.”

There’s a brief silence, and then Stu steps back, “See you later.”

“Yeah,” I say, a little flatly.

Billy’s eyes are trained on Stu, who just barely glances back. To anyone else, it’d come off as casual eye contact. A small feeling that’s little more than an itch at the back of my mind tells me that its the beginning of one of their exchanges. Or maybe I’m just on edge.

They approach the window, leaving like they always do.

----

Narrator’s POV

You never thought you’d want to kill Randy as badly as you do right now. One minute, the two of you are casually drinking, and he’s listening to a tipsy you summarize the plot of the latest show you’re invested in, and the next he’s trying to usher everyone into a game of 7 minutes in heaven.

You swore you weren’t playing, even when Randy started complaining. No one will go for it unless they think they have a chance with someone as hot as you. Your no stood firm, even when other people started sitting in front of Stu’s guest bathroom.

All you wanted to do was be an observer. To sit next to Randy and to ignore the weird looks Billy and Stu took turns sending you from across the room as you finished off your beer. Instead, you had to watch Stu’s spin land on Tatum, and you had to watch him walk with her to the bathroom with enthusiasm. Those 7 minutes had you getting up to grab another drink that you nearly downed before getting back to your seat.

That was what really set the night off. You had been pacing your drinks before then, wanting to keep the balance between being buzzed enough to be social and drinking enough to become messy. Stu stepping out of the closet with a grin and an arm around an uncharacteristically bashful Tatum pushed you right to that line. Billy ending up in the bathroom with Sidney next is what pushed you over it.

It’s ridiculous, no one can fully control where their spin lands, but it was all too coincidental. Too perfect.

And that’s how you ended up here. In a closet with Jonathan White from your second period. The same Jonathan White that’s always staring at your chest. You’re about two minutes into the most awkward small talk of your life while pretending to not notice his leering and clumsy, half thought out advances when the door opens.

There’s no way that 7 minutes are already up, but you’re too relieved to question it. The calm feeling settling in your chest quickly disappears when you look towards the doorway. Stu’s leaning against the wooden frame, eyes cooly locked on you.

“Dude.” Jonathan’s complaints die down at the back of his throat when Stu turns to look at him. You can’t fully see his expression, but despite how buzzed you are, you don’t miss his unexpected edge.

“It’s my house, dude.” Stu’s reaction isn’t harsh in the way you expect it to be. It’s the calmness of his voice that cuts straight through you. “I can do whatever I want in my house, and you’re not going to stop me.”

You’re not convinced Stu’s talking about his house. “Stu.” You have to bite your tongue to avoid blurting out that nothing was going on. Why should you clear the air? You and Jonathan were far apart, which is more than you can say about him and Tatum. “You’re drunk.”

Stu ignores the touch of warning in your voice. He doesn’t even let himself look in your direction. It’s the only thing he can think to do to associate his anger with someone that isn’t you.

“Whatever,” you breathe, deciding that the best thing you can do to diffuse the tension is to remove yourself from the situation, “I’m getting another drink.”

You skirt past them, practically holding your breath until you’re fully out of the bathroom. No one’s sitting in that lopsided circle anymore. Whatever happened in those few minutes you were in the closet must have killed the mood just enough to end the game. Oh, well, you can’t say you’re too torn up about it.

The alcohol isn’t settling in your stomach as comfortably as you’d like, but you meant what you said. You’re getting another drink. Maybe that will make you feel less like you’re balancing on the edge of a knife.

You walk into the kitchen, frowning when you realize that the big cooler’s empty. It’s probably a sign from the universe to quit while you’re ahead, but you choose to ignore it. Instead of going back to the party and finding either Randy or one of the few familiar faces from some of your classes, you decide to go to Stu’s garage. You know for a fact he keeps extra beer in there.

You step into the space, shutting the door behind you. The separation from the party is refreshing. A part of you regrets coming. Parties suck when you’re not in the specific mood for them. Why are you even here? To sit outside and listen to music that’s too loud while Billy and Stu hook up with their actual girlfriends while you down beer? You don’t even like beer that much.

An idea latches itself onto your mind. You could leave. You could go home, change into pajamas, and pass out in bed. Sure, Billy and Stu wouldn’t be happy with it, especially considering the looks they gave you during spin the bottle, but you’re not happy with them. And why should you stick around in a setting you’re not in the mood for when they’ve been actively ignoring you since you got here? Obviously, they can’t get away with being all lovey dovey, but they could treat you like a friend. Or at the very least, not keep Sidney and Tatum away from you like you’re the plague.

Besides, all you’re going to do is go home and go to bed. If that makes them mad, then that’s their issue. Especially since they want to act all cute when they’re in your room, claim that you’re their actual girlfriend, and then treat you like you’re repulsive in public.

You’re interrupted from your fantasies of just walking out the front door by the sound of the garage door creaking open. You snap your gaze towards it and fight the urge to roll your eyes when you see that it’s Stu. You’re annoyed and tipsy, but still sober enough to know that the last thing you want to do is add any additional fuel to the fire.

He walks towards the refrigerator without looking at you. The silence is starting to get to you as Stu opens the fridge. After a second of him looking around in there, Stu turns towards you. He’s holding your favorite drink. Wordlessly, he twists the cap off before extending an arm.

You blink once, slowly moving your hand to accept his offer. “I didn’t see these.”

Stu casually shrugs, shutting the fridge behind him. “Got them for you, Billy hid them in the back so no one else would grab them. Guess he forgot to tell you.

The ‘forgot’ nearly makes you scoff. They both purposefully ignored you when you first got here and waved at them, and they’ve only looked at you to make you uncomfortable since. But you can’t say that right now. You’re tired and probably more drunk than him. Starting a fight isn’t something you can afford right now.

“Oh,” you mumble, “Thanks.” You bring the drink to your lips, taking a slow sip. “Think I’m gonna go after this.”

“Go?” Something flickers behinds Stu’s expression. “I thought you were staying over.”

A sarcastic comment rises up your throat. After the way they’ve been acting, there’s no way he can think that your ideal ending of tonight is crawling into bed with them. Any bite in you dies down the second you meet his gaze. There’s no way to describe it. Unfeeling.

“I uh-” You tilt your head, playing into your inebriated state. You shift back, which is all the excuse Stu needs to take two steps forward, practically caging you between him and a wall. “I had a little too much to drink and I’m not feeling great. I don’t think I’ll be a lot of fun, I just need to pass out in a dark room before everything starts spinning.”

He doesn’t look convinced or angry or anything. There’s something eerie about the cold indifference he’s radiating. “You wouldn’t lie to me, right, sweetheart?”

You let your eyes drop to the glass bottle in your hand. You take a quick sip. “Was gonna ask you the same thing.” The mumble escapes you before you can think through your slurred words.

Stu takes a step forward. You squeeze the bottle between your fingers a little tighter to avoid shrinking back. “What was that?”

You look up just in time to see Stu tilt his head in order to regard you a little more cautiously. The last time you had a sub in your science class, they played a video about the structure of a predator’s mind and how they prepare to catch their prey. The way Stu’s eyes darken sends you straight back to that classroom.

You can’t tell if the heat that rushes to your face is a tang of fear or something else. Or maybe it’s an uneasy combination of both.

The door squeaks open again. Your head snaps in that direction, but Stu doesn’t look away. He doesn’t even bother putting a less conspicuous amount of space between you.

“You two okay back here?” You let out a breath. It’s just Billy.

“All good,” you manage just as Stu says, “She wants to go.”

You keep your eyes focused on Billy, not wanting to think about Stu that way again. “I’m not feeling great and I’m tired.” The defense is weak, made even more pathetic by the slight pout of your lips. “Plus it’s not like you guys would notice anyway.”

“What?” Billy’s question is oddly gentle.

The whiplash that gives you is nearly enough to make you drop the glass in your hand. You shut your eyes for a second, resting your head against the wall. Everything’s starting to feel a little too fuzzy. “You know what I’m talking about. At my house, it’s all talk about liking me, calling me your girlfriend, and then I get here and you don’t even want to be friends with me.” The blow up doesn’t make you feel better. The room is full on spinning now, you lean completely against the wall so that it can support your weight. Ugh, you know you won’t be able to handle their reaction. “’M tired, and I-I’m feeling weird. I think I should go to bed.”

The quiet that follows has you fighting to not push past both of them in order to get to a bathroom. It’s shattered by Stu’s humorless laugh. His breath is hot against your jaw and it’s too much. “Aw,” he hums, his tone so sweet it circles right back to bitter, “She’s jealous, isn’t that cute?”

You squint your eyes open. “Shut up.”

“Why?” Billy asks, stepping further into the room, “He’s right. You think I didn’t see the way you were looking at me and Sid when we came out of the bathroom?”

You sigh indignantly. “I’m too tired for this.”

“But you weren’t too tired to be all over Randy or Jonathan White?”

Your glare turns into something meek once you see the way Stu’s looking at you. “I wasn’t all over Randy, he was just the only person that was talking to me tonight because of you two. Neither of you even said hi to me and every time I tried talking to Sidney and Tatum, you’d come by and take them away.” The thought of Jonathan makes you sick all over again. “And I was nowhere near Jonathan White, and I’d never be willingly. He’s a total perv, and he made Shannon Walton cry before class the other day. And Shannon Walton’s the nicest, she always has gum and gives everyone her notes if they’re absent.”

Stu doesn’t ease. “Don’t change the subject, you didn’t need to play.”

“You didn’t either,” you counter, “And I-I wasn’t even playing at first. I was just gonna sit in the room so I could keep talking to Randy, and then you two--”

“So you only played because you were jealous.” Billy’s voice has taken on an edge that you don’t like. He continues, walking towards you with even, practically bored steps. “That’s not very nice of you.”

They haven’t been very nice either, you think bitterly. “You started it.”

The childish defense leaves the corner of Billy’s mouth turning upwards. “I’m not all over you for for 5 minutes and you get like this.”

The dismissal makes your face feel warm. “Maybe we should give her a break.” The mocking in Stu’s tone strikes a nerve. “She’s just jealous.” You draw your eyebrows together, and Stu grins meanly. “You’re lucky green’s a pretty color on you, babe.”

Chagrin fuels your reaction as you burst out a too confident, “’M not jealous.”

Stu’s laugh is harsh, “You’re not?”

Pushing down your instincts, you tilt your chin up a fraction of an inch in order to hold your ground. “Can’t be jealous because I know you two are mine.”

At that, they both seem to still. You hold Stu’s stare until you no longer feel like you’re the one that’s trapped. The confidence is likely in your head and a byproduct of all you’ve had to drink, but it gives you the assurance you need to straighten your spine. Stu angles his head to the side and you’re not sure if it’s a good sign or not. To not panic, you extend your arms, resting them around his neck. The nails of the hand that isn’t holding the bottle trail down his neck.

You can’t back out now. The way he’s looking at you changes. You can’t interpret his expression, which only puts you on edge more. He wants to be quiet, to dismiss you in one final, petty jab, but the more your nails dig into sensitive skin, the more he struggles. The nail thing’s a habit you developed after realizing how much it affects him.

“Watch the nails, sweetheart.” It’s meant to seem like a warning, but it slips out of him a little too low. He’s overcompensating to cover for what was almost a whine.

You blink up at him through your eyelashes with maliciously soft eyes. “Starting to hurt?” He’s quiet, you scratch at his skin, hard enough to leave the kind of red marks that disappear almost as soon as they appear.

“This attitude’s cute, but don’t push it.”

Everything from tonight hits you all at once as you tilt your head innocently. “Or what?”

Billy knew that you were treading on ice so thin that even Stu couldn’t see the cracks since before you got here. That one comment you made before they left your place had been harder to deal with than Billy would ever admit. Stu pretended that he was fine with it, that he didn’t feel the strain of panic that comes from feeling like they need you more than you need them. And then you showed up here, as pretty as ever, and basically fine when they started ignoring you. And now this.

It’s a slippery slope. The line between the amount of attitude that gets Stu going and the amount of attitude that pushes him towards something he can’t control is thin.

Billy steals the bottle from your hand and leans forward, grabbing your jaw with his free hand and pulling you into a kiss. It’s so sudden it takes you a second to relax into it. Once you finally do, a small sound escapes you. Billy deepens the kiss with no warning. You clumsily follow his lead despite how much they’ve annoyed you tonight.

He pulls away quickly once he’s sure that the energy in the room has been redirected, resting his forehead against yours. You don’t get the chance to recover. You’re still panting when Stu’s hand finds its way into the roots of your hair. He yanks on it, forcing you towards him.

Stu’s kiss is hard and disorientating. You know that he has a way of being all consuming when he wants to be, but this is something else. You can’t take a full breath, but Stu doesn’t care. He doesn’t let you go until he’s done, and even then he takes his time releasing you, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth.

You’re dizzy and somehow even drunker than before. You reach for Stu unsteadily. He looks you over slowly. “You get her in bed and I’ll figure out how to start kicking people out.”

Billy places an arm around your waist. His lack of protest surprises you slightly, but you’re not complaining about it. You need his help, and Billy knows it. That, paired with the fact that this is the only time he has an excuse to publicly hold onto you, makes him love when nights end like this.

He always has an excuse ready in case Sid or someone else notices. Y/n can’t handle her alcohol and she’d kill all of us if we let her go home like this. She’s gonna sleep it off in Stu’s room for a little. It’s basically true, and it also gives Billy the excuse to linger around you. There are a lot of people that’d take advantage of your situation. Sid can’t be mad at that, if anything, she’d be mad at him for knowing how vulnerable you were and not doing anything.

Billy leads you into Stu’s room, abandoning your last drink on the first surface he finds. He sits you down on the edge of Stu’s bed before opening one of Stu’s drawers. “Here,” he tosses one of Stu’s T-shirts towards you, “You got it or you need help?”

Shutting the drawer, Billy turns back to you. You’re laying down now, not even under the sheets. “You can’t fall asleep like that.”

“Mhm,” you mumble, face half buried into your mattress.

With a sigh, Billy walks towards you. He grabs your arm, pulling on you until you’re finally sitting. With a bit of prompting, you stand. Billy watches you struggle for a second before sighing. He keeps you steady as you get out of your clothes and pulls Stu’s T-shirt over your head.

You’re too tired to care about the fact that you’re supposed to be mad at him. “Bed now?”

Billy cups your cheek, his thumb soothingly brushing against your skin. “Last time I let you pass out before washing your face, you made me promise to never let it happen again.”

----

You don’t know how long you’ve been asleep when an unexpected pressure stirs you awake. Ignoring the feeling, you try rolling over in order to pull the covers up to your neck. Something doesn’t let you.

“You’re up,” Stu whispers against your hair, “You’re up, you’re okay.”

Twisting so that you’re flat on your black, you squint your eyes open. It’s still dark, so you know it’s still night time. You don’t remember exactly how you got here, but you know that you were comfortable. You also only vaguely remember the weirdness and your anger from earlier. 7 minutes in heaven thanks to Randy, a bit of confrontation in the garage. It feels less important now.

Smiling, you slowly extend your until your knuckles are brushing against his cheek. “What time is it?”

“Late,” Stu answers.

“Then wh--”

“Need my goodnight kisses,” he breathes, pressing a few, quick kisses to your temple.

You smile, “Thought you were mad a--”

Stu’s fingers squeeze your hips. “Don’t want to talk about that.” If you were less drowsy, you might have jumped a little. “I just want to go to sleep.”

Nodding you reach for him a little steadier now. Stu relents, leaning into you as you start to kiss his cheek.

Billy’s hand finds your waist just as you start relaxing again. “What about me?”

#ghostface x reader #ghostface #poly!ghostface #poly! ghostface x reader #scream #scream 1996 #scream x reader #billy loomis #billy loomis x reader #stu macher #stu macher x reader #scream imagine #x reader

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lavender-long-stories · 5 months

Text

Writing Advice: Getting Words on a Page

With the 75k word count in November and 90k in August, I have been asked questions like how do I keep focus and what do I do when I get stuck. I am going to compile all the advice I have.

Over the last few years, I have posted 700k+ words of fan fiction and have been posting 3 to 6 chapters every week for the last ten months. This is not how to make your writing better. This is how to get words on a page.

This is not all my original ideas. This is just a collection of things that have worked for me.

I am not sure I am the person to tell you how to make your writing better, but if people want my thoughts on that. I can make that post too.

When inspiration strikes, write like wild.

If you have the time and you are bitten by the writing bug, keep writing anything while you are in peak form. You will thank yourself later when you feel like you can’t write everything. I have done the extreme version of this where I have a month (four chapters) written ahead of almost everything on my post schedule (you don’t need this), but this was really nice after I brunt out after finishing out the 90k challenge I destroyed myself with in August.

Write in little pockets of time.

You don’t need to sit down and write for two hours. Write 100 words here and 500 there. It will all add up. When I was struggling at the end of the 75k, I would just open a doc every few hours and write half a page until I got distracted and tried again later.

Change your font.

If you are struggling to edit or even just find yourself drifting while writing, change your font. It helps trick your brain into paying attention. (I like doing a mono font like Courier when I need writing vibes. It looks typewriter-y)

Take a shower.

Not just for shower thoughts, being clean and fresh helps with focus

Get dressed.

I love being comfy, but something about getting dressed makes me feel like I am working and should finish my task. Extra points for it being fun. (Maybe cosplay a pirate or something.)

Move Locations.

Desk, kitchen table, bed, outside: changing location helps move you out of a brain rut.

Handwrite notes.

I take most of my notes on notion, but when I am struggling with my plot, I write out notes by hand, starting with what happened last and continuing from there, writing even things I know will happen. Then I transfer this to my digital notes so they are easier to move around in order, AND a lot of time, I add details when revising them to digital. Double power.

Always, always write down your thoughts and keep them.

Some of my most popular stories came from me rediscovering a 2 am thought that I wrote down six years ago. Keep a notepad next to the bed if you have to.

Change POV

If something is not working in a scene, maybe it is who you have reacting to it. Try switching POV. It helps you think of the scene from another perspective.

Watch a show in your genre.

I watch a lot of the silliest KDrama’s and get lots of romance ideas. Maybe I didn’t think of sending my character to a park or trapping them in a sky lift. Maybe I should add a stalker that sounds fun.

Take your bathroom breaks.

You should always drink lots of fluids and remember to take your bathroom breaks because the brief moment of walking away always gives me an idea.

Skim through the story and make notes on what HAS happened, not just what will happen.

This helps more with my style of having next to no plot outline. Need your next plot point and don’t know where to go? Remember that time they did x? Let’s build off that. This helps intertwine the plot without losing things.

Just read the story back.

You don’t always need to make notes, but sometimes just reading from the beginning can make you pick up on a detail that was unimportant at the time, and you may not even have meant to put in that could have a lot more meaning now. Then, you can call it clever foreshadowing.

Explain your problem or the scene you are struggling with out loud.

It doesn’t have to be to someone. It could be a glass of water. This is called ‘rubber ducking. It’s a programmer term (hello, that is my day job). Restructuring your problem in a way you have to articulate it most of the time makes the solution come to you.

Try focusing on the scenery.

If you can’t get a scene to work open with the weather or how the floor is creaking under step, give the world a new feeling. How does the person feel about the weather or the temperature of the room?

Can’t figure out what is wrong? Rewrite the chapter from scratch.

Open a new doc and rewrite the chapter from memory. I do this a lot in the beginning of a story that didn’t quite hit the way I wanted it to. I will start the chapter from memory and skim the old one to ensure I didn’t miss anything important. Can’t do it from memory? Read a paragraph and write that from memory.

Take a left turn.

Sometimes, if you can’t go any further, go back a sentence, a paragraph, a scene, a chapter, and just make a different decision. Turn left instead of right. Change how someone reacts to an argument. It opens a whole new lane to go down.

Excited for a scene that is in the future?

Write it! You don’t have to use it word for word in the future. Sometimes, you can copy and paste it in, and sometimes, you can just rewrite it, and you lose none of those thoughts you originally had. Writing it might remind you of something that needs to happen first to help you get there.

Have more than one story you are working on.

I don’t think you need to be working on four+ stories like I do, but having something to switch to when your brain really isn’t feeling your main is a great way to keep you writing. Call it productive procrastination. This is the REAL reason I have so many stories uploading. (ᵕ—ᴗ—)

Other Somewhat Related Advice

Context Switching

I work on multiple projects at a time, and I tend not to mix them up because they have a different vibe to me. It feels like stepping into each world. If you are struggling with context switching between stories, I suggest finding a song or making a playlist that gives you that story’s ‘vibe’ and keeping a link to it in your writing folder or snagging a section of your story that captures the vibe you are going for and keeping it off to the side to reread when you need to switch.

Don’t edit the same day you write.

You’re not going to catch errors. Your brain is too familiar with what you wrote. Also, I recommend Grammarly or another grammar checker for all your missing comma and period needs. (Word, Docs, and any other text editor simply won't bully you enough.)

If you hate editing, don’t leave yourself with a painful amount of editing.

When people ask me how I edit my work, how many passes I take, etc, I tend to disappoint them. The short answer is one read-through (after using a grammar checker). I learned a LONG time ago that as much as it would be nice to write a bunch of dialog and then tell yourself you will go back to add all the actions or write without quotes because it takes time, you will save yourself a lot of time and pain if you learn to write it correctly the first time and then editing won’t be as much of a chore. I have been writing for years, and I am used to how I write and edit. If you are newer to writing, give it another pass or two, but try to shift some of that work to the writing process, not the editing process.

Make yourself an editing cheat sheet.

Make yourself a doc or a notion of words you notice you use too much or common words you misspell when writing. I usually make one when I get back and do a post edit (when the story has been up for a while and I get back with fresh eyes and edit it). Reading through your old work and find things that you don’t like or don’t want to do anymore is a great way to build this list and improve your writing.

Now go write.

Got any advice for me? Reblog and tell me.

#writing problems #writing #writing tips #writers block #writing advice #writer #writing community #writeblr

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boxofbonesfic · 2 years

Photo

Title: New Hire [3]

previous chapter

Pairing: Alpha!Mob!Ari Levinson x Naive!Omega!Reader

Summary: After escaping your demanding, violent father, you get your first job nannying for Ari Levinson.

Warnings: Manipulation, Obsessive behavior, A/B/O Dynamics, Alpha!Ari, Dubcon, Darkfic, Breeding, Smut, MINORS DNI, Dead dove: Do not eat

A/N: 👀 i know we’ve all been kind of waiting for the other shoe to drop with Ari and Kitten, so here we go! i’m working two jobs now, so i don’t have a lot of spare time left over to write—as a result, i kind of went waaaaaaay overboard with this chapter. i split it into two, just for ease of reading, so i really hope y’all enjoy! floral divider by @firefly-graphics

This work is entirely unbeta’d, and unedited. Though I don’t own any of Marvel’s characters, this work and the plot contained inside are entirely mine. I do not consent for this work to be posted anywhere else by anyone but me. Enjoy 😘

“I’m not leaving till I see my daughter!” You can hear your father’s raised voice clearly, like he’s yelling at you from inside the car rather than the driveway. Ari’s stern hand on his shoulder seems to make him even angrier.

“So what, you got her locked up here like your own little toy, and what? No fuckin’ ring on her finger, I’ll bet,” he sneers, and it’s like you’re seventeen again. Seventeen again and listening to him tell you you’re used and ruined because you’d let the Baker boy come sniffing after you—

“Liam we’re going to go inside.” You hate the way your voice shakes, the way your stomach clenches with old fear. As you turn around, you try to swallow down the panic so that Liam doesn’t see it on your face. “And we’re not going to look at, or talk to the man outside, okay?” You repeat it like you heard it from your therapist when you’d first left your father. Don’t engage. You don’t owe him anything. You are your own person.

You are free.

“I don’t like that man.” Liam says quietly from the back seat as you unbuckle him. “He’s scary.”

“Yes,” you agree, glancing at the man in question over your shoulder. “He is.” Liam clamors over the middle console and into your arms. You don’t want to stay in the car, listening to him shout. You take a deep breath, gathering what little courage you feel, and pull on the door handle. Immediately, his cursing fills your ears while you cover Liam’s with your hands, steering him quickly towards the stairs.

“Oh, there she is,” he snarls. “I taught you better than that, you little bitch! Abandoning your responsibilities to this family, all so you can sit on some Alpha’s fucking knot—”

“Enough!” Ari’s voice is like a clap of thunder. His huge hands are knotted threateningly in your father’s shirt. “You come here like this, you fucking threaten my mate—” He bares his teeth angrily. “How’d you even fucking get in here, you slimy piece of shit?”

“I’m here because Peter-fucking-Quill sent me,” he spits, and your chest goes even tighter at the name. “On account of you fucking his mate.”

“What?” It’s your voice that acts as a knife through the tension, and both men turn to you. You know Peter Quill—or, well, you knew him. Before things had gone bad at home, turned sour like milk left out to spoil, and you’d had to switch schools—because your fancy Catholic school was too much money—you’d played with Quill. He was only a year or two older than you, but he was always… kind, for lack of a better word.

You never thought you’d hear that name again.

“Then he needs to come himself.” Ari’s voice is low, barely above a growl. His shoulders are stiff and squared, his knees slightly bent like he’s ready to soak a blow. “Because as far as I’m concerned, it’s my mark on her neck.” Ari shoves your father, and he stumbles back a few steps. “You’re lucky I don’t shoot messengers. But it is fucking tempting.” Trembling, you begin to lead Liam up the stairs.

“You tell Quill he’d better send someone more fucking qualified next time.” You hurry inside, one of Ari’s men holding the door open for you as they usher you inside. Faintly, you can hear Ari, his orders mixed in with frustrated swears.

“King, you mind telling me what the fuck you were thinking, letting him get past the goddamn gate?”

You’ve never seen this many people in the house before, men in black, guns bulging under their clothing. The man Ari called King’s gaze flicks around nervously before settling on you. Ari sees it too, and almost immediately, his hostile posture softens.

“Kitten, why don’t you take Liam upstairs?” He turns to you with a reassuring smile. “I’ll be up in a little bit, I know that was… scary.”

“I…” You have questions—so many questions. “But Ari, he—”

“Upstairs, Kitten. Now.” His voice brokers no room for argument, bordering on an Alpha command that your body jumps to follow. You spare one last look for the strangely crowded kitchen, and then take Liam’s hand and lead him up the staircase to the second floor. You put out a few of his favorite coloring books and games to distract him while you go change your clothes.

Your feet begin marching in the direction of your old room, and it’s only when your hand rests on the brassy doorknob that you remember it isn’t your room anymore. You stand there in front of the door, your hand hovering over the knob. So much has changed in the past three months, and you wonder if they’ll ever stop changing. It’s like you’re at the center of a whirlwind, and each time you get your bearings, you’re whipped about by the storm until you’re just as lost and confused as ever.

Three months ago, leaving your father’s house had been the hardest, most confusing thing you’d ever had to do, but you had done it, and you had done it by yourself. You’d navigated the help wanted sections of every newspaper, typed out your resumé on the ancient library computers, all for your father to find you again.

It’s okay to start over, that’s what Dr. Nicholson says. It’s okay to do things over until you get them right. You wonder what she’ll think of these new developments as you force yourself to turn around and head down to the other end of the hallway, towards Ari’s room—your room. You’d missed last week’s therapy session—it isn’t like you could show up with Ari still knotted inside you. The thought makes your face heat hotter than a stove-top, and you bite your lip against the embarrassment.

You’re due for another session in a few days, and you’re actually looking forward to it, to being able to decompress and just talk without fear of reprisal. As you shrug out of the sundress, you catch sight of yourself in the mirror. Though you try not to, it’s impossible not to see the neat ring of teeth marks sunk permanently into your flesh.

Ari is proud of how clean his bite is, you know it—you can feel it through the bond when his teeth slide home like keys into a well fitting lock. You remember running your fingers over your mother’s own mating mark as a child, the flesh knotted and bumpy to the touch, like your father had torn into her like an animal. A shiver runs down your spine as you recall his words—

Peter-fucking-Quill sent me. On account of you fucking his mate.

You weren’t mated before Ari—the smooth, unbroken skin above your mating gland had told that truth far better than your mouth ever could. So what had he meant by that? How could you be Peter’s if you were already Ari’s?

Your body is still singing with tension and unresolved anxiety, winding you tight like a spring as you search through Ari’s cavernous closet for something to wear. The possessions you do have feel meagre in comparison, like you’re a pauper dressing up as a prince. You emerge from the closet wearing shorts and a button up shirt—one of Ari’s—tucked into the waistband.

When you poke your head into his room, you’re pleased to find that Liam has only made a moderate mess, having somehow managed to get into the finger paints that you keep having to hide in increasingly difficult to reach locations. He looks up at you with a wide, gap toothed grin, and holds his masterpiece up for you to see. His little hands are stained green, and you expect they probably will be for the next four to six business days, but your heart still melts as he brandishes his paper proudly.

“Look, I painted everybody,” he replies, bouncing excitedly on his toes. He peeks over the top of the paper, and then back up at you. “This is daddy—he’s going to work, that’s why he has his suit on. And then, then there’s me, and right here is you!” He taps the paper again, for emphasis. You giggle, taking the paper gingerly.

“Wow, Li, this is amazing! Is that my dress?” You ask, looking down at him as he puffs his chest out with pride. “This is so good! You know, I bet dad is going to want to hang this up somewhere,” you say conspiratorially, and he laughs, before his face falls a little.

“What if he doesn’t see it?” He kicks at the rug. “Dad’s always working.” You can almost hear the sound of your heart cracking open at Liam’s innocent admission.

“You know what, let’s go put this on the big mirror in the bedroom. That way he’ll be sure to see it, okay?” You hold Liam’s hand as he leads you down the hallway, and the two of you hunt for scotch tape to hang his painting as you strain to hear what’s going on downstairs. It’s useless, the walls are too thick and well soundproofed for anything but the barest murmur of conversation to make it through.

As you’re finishing up taping Liam’s drawing, a shudder runs through you, your hairs standing on end. Alpha is looking for me. You don’t know how you know it, but you do, like feeling eyes on your turned back.

“Dad!” Liam’s exclamation has you turning to face the large figure in the doorway. Ari doesn’t stop him as Liam goes crashing into his legs, and he scoops up his giggling son, ruffling his hair. “I drawed something for you.” You move out of the way, stepping aside as Ari sizes up Liam’s masterpiece.

“Li, you know we’ve got to frame this, right? You’re just a regular Picasso.” It’s like you’re watching Liam’s confidence grow in real time, a pleased expression gracing his little features, though you doubt he actually knows who Picasso is. “Is this what you guys were doing while I was working?”

Working. You still don’t really know what Ari even does, though you don’t doubt that he’s important. All the men downstairs, Ari’s fierce demeanor… the answer plays at the edge of your consciousness, but you don’t grasp for it, too afraid that you might be right. As Ari chats with Liam, you excuse yourself, wandering down to the kitchen to get some water. It’s like no one was ever there, and if you hadn’t had to drag Liam through a veritable sea of men in tac gear, you might have thought you’d imagined it.

You can’t help but peek out of the front door, just to make sure your father is really gone, that he isn’t just lying in wait outside to ambush you again.

“Thought I would see what was taking so long, Kitten. You know Liam won’t start the movie without you,” Ari rumbles, his breath ghosting across the shell of your ear. You whirl around, almost dropping your glass.

“Ari, I… I just wanted to see,” you admit. “If he was gone.”

Ari’s lip curls, his eyes narrowing. “He’s gone. I made sure of it.” He pulls you against his chest, burying his nose in your curls with a deep sigh.

“I’m sorry.” The apology falls timidly from your lips before you can stop it. It’s a force of habit more than anything, the desire to placate before it becomes a problem. “I… I don’t know how he found me, I-I did all of the things Dr. Nicholson told me to, I—” Ari cups your chin.

“Shh, sweetheart. It’s not your fault.” His calloused fingers are gentle on your face. “You did the right things. It’s not your fault.” Your fingers tangle in his shirt as Ari rubs soothing circles on your back. “He found you because he went to Quill, baby.”

“Quill?” You dredge up the image of him young and roundfaced from your memory. It’s easy to tell Ari is… reluctant to continue this line of conversation. You can feel his discomfort prickling in the back of your skull through the bond, but more than that you can see it written plainly on his face.

“I’m not sure how you know him,” Ari says lowly, “but Peter is a… business associate of mine. Was.” He runs a hand through his hair. “How do you think your father got that nice new house on the good part of the island? How he got those debtors to stop calling? He went to Peter, Kitten. And he made a deal.”

Your head is spinning. The answer is right there, but for some reason, you refuse it.

“A deal?” You repeat the words dumbly.

“For you, Kitten. He promised Quill you.”

—

You’re restless that night, tossing and turning until Ari pins you underneath him with a stern, sleepy grunt. He can’t stop your mind from spinning though, and you don’t sleep until the sky outside begins to turn pink.

Your father had sold you—like cattle. Traded you when you’d become useless to him.

What kind of parent does that?

Your dreams offer no answers, only more questions. When had he offered you up like cattle? And what kind of man accepted a person as fair trade? You know your father has never been good with money—even before your mother died. Your chest goes painfully tight at the thought of her. You wish your mother was here, now more than ever. You can’t help but wonder what she would make of all of this, if she would approve.

In the morning when Liam wakes the two of you up with far too much pep, you’ve only managed to struggle through a few hours of sleep. He chatters excitedly about his dreams and you do your best to listen, nodding eagerly as he describes the superpowers he’d used to save the universe. Ari rolls over onto his side, and you don’t miss the way his eyes rest heavily on you, his full lips pulled into an easy, satisfied smile.

He scampers off to pack his backpack for the day—one of his favorite activities, even over summer break. Ari’s hand settles on your thigh, warm through the thin sleeping shorts you wore to bed.

“You didn’t sleep well last night, Kitten.” It’s an observation, a statement of fact. Embarrassed that he remembers your sleepy grumbling, you duck your head, nodding.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you awake,” you tuck an errant curl back behind your ear. “I just… I can’t stop thinking about everything.” Your stomach churns again as you recall your father shouting at you from the steps outside, his eyes bright and frantic. I hate him.

You hadn’t ever actually thought it consciously before, how much you despise the alcohol soaked man who’d showed up to shame you only yesterday. I hate him.

It feels like his arrival has started something, put things in to motion that you can’t see, things you don’t understand. But Ari does. You can practically feel him gearing up for something, something big—readying himself. Ari’s beard rasps against your cheek as he leans in to kiss your temple.

“He won’t be back.” He says it with such conviction it’s hard for you not to consider it an absolute truth. There’s an unspoken threat that sends a shiver down your spine, one that speaks to the roughness that lurks just underneath the placid, casual mask that Ari wears all the time. You’ve already seen it slip a few times—at the amusement park, with your father. It makes you wonder what he’s really capable of.

You can tell he wants to say more, that the conversation isn’t quite done yet, but the shrill ringing of Ari’s phone cuts through the moment like a sharp knife. He reaches for it, irritation written in the downturned corners of his mouth and narrowed eyes. He gives you one last, distracted kiss before sitting up, the sheets pooling at his waist.

“Yes?” You can’t hear the person on the other end of the line, not clearly, but you can tell they sound upset—frantic, almost. “Slow down, Drysdale. I said slow the fuck down,” Ari growls into the receiver, dragging a hand down his face. “Quill sent what to Fowler?” You still at the mention of Peter, but Ari taps your ass sharply with the palm of his hand, and you squeak.

“Business,” he mouths at you. “I’ll find you when I’m done.”

Though you aren’t pleased about being effectively dismissed, you scoot off of the edge of the massive bed and pad towards the shower. Liam is downstairs, and you walk into the living room just as his improvised karate routine is finishing up.

“Look how high I can kick!” He says loudly, lifting his leg up the way you know they’d taught him in his karate class.

“Liam no!” You’re too late, his little foot intersecting with one of the framed photos on the coffee table. You wince at the sound of breaking glass before rushing over and sweeping the errant six year old off of his feet to check for cuts. Sheepishly, Liam clings to you, embarrassed tears leaking down his little cheeks.

“No cuts, right bud?” You ask as you turn his hands and feet back and forth, squinting as you look for shards of glass. “Nothing hurts?”

“N-no, but…” he trails off, pointing at the shattered frame. It’s a nice picture, Liam up on Ari’s broad shoulders as the two of them grin widely at the camera. You’d taken that picture—at Liam’s birthday, just a few months before. “I broke it.”

“Yes, you did, but what’s more important is that you’re okay,” you say, wiping the errant tears from his chubby cheeks with your thumbs. “Dad can always get a new picture frame.” Your humor doesn’t deter him, however, and Liam looks at the stairs nervously. You place Liam carefully on the couch as you sprint into the kitchen to grab the broom and dustpan.

“He’s gonna be mad at me,” Liam sniffles, rubbing at his red rimmed eyes as you clean up the mess.

“That’s not true, pal. Dad’s not going to be mad—”

“He is!” Liam insists. “That’s his most favoritest picture in the house, he said so!” He’s getting worked up now, his cheeks splotchy and red as he becomes more and more upset. Frustrated tears begin leaking from his eyes again, and you feel your chest go tight.

“Liam, I promise dad isn’t going to be mad,” you say placatingly, setting down the broom to rub his back as he sniffles. “Would it make you feel better if we got another one?” The mall isn’t far away, certainly close enough for the two of you to pop over and be back before Ari even notices you’re gone. “We can go get him a new one so he won’t feel sad, okay?”

This seems to be an acceptable compromise to Liam, who nods tearfully. “Okay.”

Of the several cars sitting in the garage below the house, you select an unassuming black Wrangler, making sure to buckle Liam into his seat before climbing into yours. It starts up easily, and you shoot a quick text to Ari—one you’re sure he won’t even see before you’re back—before taking off. Liam is singing some kind of made up song to himself as you pull out into the wealthy suburb that Liam and Ari—and now you—call home.

The mall parking lot is as crowded as it usually is, and you hold Liam’s hand tightly as you navigate between the cars. Still, he tugs on your hand impatiently, eager to get inside. He hasn’t been on a real outing since the amusement park—your face burns hot at the memory—and it shows, with Liam bouncing excitedly on his toes as he drags you into the mall. You make him wait as you squint at the map, looking for the bright red You are here!, labeled at the bottom entrance.

“It looks like there’s a nice frame shop this way, Li. We can go pick out something cool for dad.”

“Okay!”

Though the frame shop is distinctly not an environment for six-year-olds, Liam handles it like a champ, using his “inside” voice the way you’d taught him, and handling the delicate glass with care when he dares to pick something up. Like his father, he seems to be rather choosy, squinting at several picture frames before dismissing them.

“What about this one? This one’s cool.”

“That’s not cool,” Liam says decisively, turning his nose up at the one you hold in your hands. You stifle your own laughter as you imagine what Liam thinks cool is. I don’t think they have any frames with Spider-Man on them. “This one, this one!” He holds up the gilded gold frame excitedly, standing on his tippy-toes to show it to you. “I like this one.”

“I like this one too, Li,” you take it from him gingerly, holding it up to the light. It really is pretty, something you could see sitting in the spot the other picture had occupied. “Lets take it up to the register.” As you wait in line, Liam begins shuffling his feet, darting out to grab things from baskets near the register before putting them back. You’re honestly amazed Liam’s attention span has lasted this long, and you don’t fault him for his boredom. So when he pulls on your arm and points to the ice-cream booth just outside the store, you nod.

He’s just right there. I can see him.

You turn back to the line, playing anxiously with the heavy black card Ari had given you the day before. You haven’t used it yet, but then again, you haven’t needed to. You glance over your shoulder as the person in front of you finishes up. You can see Liam’s little blond head as he bounces excitedly, waiting his turn in line.

“Is this all today?”

“Y-yes, that’s it, thanks.” You turn back around embarrassedly, placing the card on the counter with a sharp click. The older woman behind the register runs it before handing it back, and you watch her begin to wrap the frame in newspaper.

“Your son is adorable, you know, so cute,” she says, and your cheeks warm. You’re not sure how to respond, how to parse out the complex nature of your relationships in a way that is easy to understand—mostly because you don’t understand it yourself. In the span of a week you’ve gone from nanny to step-mother, from employee to mate, and the transition still has you reeling.

“Yes, he is.” You manage a weak smile as you turn to scan the crowd for him again, looking for the soft, wavy blond curls that denote his presence by the ice-cream stand.

But you don’t see him.

The panic that seizes you is immediate as you turn fully, eyes wide as you search the crowd again and again—but come up empty. The cashier’s voice is nothing but a dull drone in your ear as you push through the people behind you.

“Liam? Liam!” There are people stopping to look now, their attention only adding to your distress. He was right here, I just saw him, he was right here—You feel terrified tears beginning to gather in your eyes as you call for him. “Did you see a little boy? Blond, blue eyes, he’s missing his front tooth?” The man behind the counter looks at you helplessly.

“I, I mean I think so, I’m sorry, it’s just so busy—!” You try to calm yourself, wiping at your eyes as you continue looking, your purchase at the frame shop completely and utterly forgotten. It’s only been a few minutes, but it feels like you’ve been looking for hours, wringing your hands as you jog through the mall.

Something gold catches your eye, and you turn towards the main doors. There’s a man in black, all black, his clothes bulky and ill fitting—reminiscent of the way Ari’s men had looked yesterday. The outline of the bullet-proof vest under his shirt is clearly visible, as is the large hand wrapped around Liam’s tiny forearm.

“Liam!” You’re barreling towards him before your body even has a moment to register that you’re moving, and you slam into the man’s back with your shoulder. He lets out a surprised, pained shout as Liam sobs your name. “Let go! Let him fucking go!” You’ve never fought anyone in your life, but you feel grim satisfaction as you rake your nails down the man’s face and smell the coppery tinge of his blood under your fingernails. It’s his surprise that allows you keep hitting him, raining blows down all over his face and chest as he tries to shield himself from you, cursing.

“Get off me! Fucking crazy bitch—” He shoves you off with a snarl, and you scramble over to Liam, panting as you put yourself in the way, shielding his smaller body with your own. Adrenaline has you on a tightrope, unable to move or blink as you watch the man get to his feet. The world around you rushes back in to your ringing ears—there’s someone saying to call the police, another group of people attempting to block the exit, to hold the man here—but you can’t process any of that.

You turn to Liam tearfully, running your hands through his hair and over his face. He presses into your chest, his little arms going around your shoulders as he sobs uncontrollably, snot and tears running into your hair.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you murmur as you rock him back and forth, your eyes still wide as you stare unseeingly past him. The relief is almost as big as the fear, and with both of them swirling inside of you, it’s impossible to calm down.

“I-I-It-w-was s-s-so s-s-scary,” Liam’s words are barely discernible through his tears. There are people talking to you—at you, really—but you don’t have the bandwidth to respond, only clutching Liam tighter when anyone approaches, like a feral animal. All you can focus on is Liam, keeping him pressed to your chest as you try to analyze every possible new threat.

Keep away, your hindbrain snarls, and you feel your own lip curl to mirror it. Baby’s not safe, not safe! You’re dimly aware of mall security attempting to detain the man who’d grabbed Liam, the sound of sirens—

“Kitten.” And then there’s Ari, kneeling in front of you as he cups your chin, strokes your hair; checking you over in much the same way you’d done Liam only minutes before. “Kitten can you hear me?” You nod numbly, still holding tight to Liam as Ari tries to pry your fingers loose. “Good, baby. You did so good, protecting our boy.” His hands are gentle as he helps you stand up. You can’t explain the rush of warmth that fills you as you inhale his scent, the deep sense of comfort that washes over you as you begin to process his nearness.

Alpha is here.

Safe.

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touteslespetiteschosess · 6 months

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Love To Hate Me || Kylian Mbappé

Chapter 2 : Try Friends?

Chapter 1

Plot: Kylian's benched and now, so is y/n. What could go wrong?

Word Count: 1378

Masterlist

"You're joking?" she scoffed, watching Enrique across his desk.

"Afraid not." he sighed, tapping the pen in his hand on the desk a few times, "Send your best team to Japan with us but you're not coming."

She sat up a little straighter in her chair, "Luis, I'll be able to effectively handle the team's image from Japan- where they are- you said that yourself."

"I said that when all of the risks to our image were going to be there with us. I need you to keep a close eye on Kylian, here. Stay close to him, maybe get to know him a bit, that way you'll be able to predict his next moves. I know you're good at that."

"The man hates me. I'll have James or Louis stay back here with him, they're just as good as me, and Kylian will actually speak to them."

"We both know you're better than your entire department combined."

"Clearly not, since I'm the one who let this entire disaster happen in the first place," she grumbled.

"You know I didn't bring you here for your good looks." Luis joked, walking around the desk to her side, as she stood up, a frown marring her face, "I know what you're capable of, this team doesn't. Show them the y/n I know. You show Kylian who's boss."

Folding her arms over her chest, she allowed him to guide her out of his office. "I was looking forward to a holiday."

He stopped in his doorway, as she carried on back to her own office a few corridors away, "Tell that to Kylian!" he called and she smirked to herself.

A day had elapsed since her meeting with Enrique and y/n sat in her office, typing rapidly on her laptop. The entire training centre was quiet since about 80 per cent of the staff had jetted off to Japan that afternoon.

Just her luck that her first holiday of the year would get cancelled just so she could hang back and work. Not that the trip would have been a holiday anyway, she would've been working, but she was supposed to have a few hours to explore Japan or maybe just lie in her hotel room in the dark for a while. That would be nice.

No, here she sat, alone in her office, not having said a word since she greeted the receptionists this morning. Her fingers had a mind of their own, flying over the keyboard before she even had to consider what she was typing.

Her stomach rumbled. Loud.

She hit send on another email and went to open one more when her stomach sounded again. Maybe a yoghurt wouldn't sustain her all day.

Hesitantly, she flicked her laptop shut and headed for the door before stopping in her tracks. She stopped and turned back for her laptop- she really didn't have time to spare eating lunch, so multitasking it was.

Quickly, she headed down to the canteen and got herself a bowl of chicken and rice as well as an apple. She sat alone- it wasn't like she particularly wanted to sit with anyone in there anyway. There were maybe ten people max in the hall. A few of the coaches, who were fairly low down in the ranks, so were subject to coaching Enrique's rejects- the loft. Said players were also scattered around the room, laughing in small groups together, not a care in the world.

She opened her laptop again and got back to work, starting to draft an email in response to l'Equipe, stating their reasons for excluding Mbappé from the Japan squad.

Here at Paris Saint-Germain, we are not only a team, but a family. We appreciate Kylian's incredible talent but we cannot condone-

"I hate this."

His voice made her head snap up and her face fell. He sat across the table from her- she wasn't sure when he'd got there. She scoffed, sarcasm dripping off her tongue, "Sure, you can sit here."

A scowl was painted on his face, his arms folded over his chest like a toddler throwing a hissy fit. "I hate this place and this stupid team. I shouldn't be training with them."

"What, you think you're too good for them?" she asked, bored, not glancing up from her laptop.

"Yes!" he exclaimed.

"Nobody likes a huge ego," she murmured.

"Well, thanks to you, nobody likes me right now anyway."

She looked up, meeting his eyes, "Thanks to you, really, I'd say."

He seethed, watching her through narrowed eyes, lips pursed, "I want out. I want to go back to my team."

"Well, I'm not the person to speak to about getting a contract drawn up but-"

"Not like that. You can't make me train with this new team. You can't bench me. I'm-"

"Kylian Mbappé?" she finished for him, "I know. You've said." Uninterested, she shifted her gaze back down to her laptop, declaring, "Maybe you should try being nice to them. Get to know them."

"Why would I do that?"

"Because whether you like it or not, your old teammates are in Japan and you're here. Until further notice, it will remain that way." she glanced across at the group of men, chatting and laughing as they ate their lunch, "That's your team now."

He was quiet for a moment- a miracle, she thought! Then, he reached across the table and snatched her apple, taking a large bite, "You're right." he said, through his mouthful of fruit.

"My apple!"

"You want it back?" he asked, holding the half-demolished thing toward her.

She grimaced, "You owe me an apple."

Standing up, he hummed, "Oops."

She blinked up at him, fluttering her lashes in a way that she had to know did something to him, "Goodbye." she said, in a clearly fake, sweet tone.

"So eager to get rid of me?" he mused, an infuriating smirk on his face.

"I've got work to do. No thanks to you."

"I'm on my best behaviour now, promise." he declared, strolling off.

She frowned at his retreating figure- conceited prick. Glancing back down at her laptop, she typed a few words and then stopped. Blankly, she watched the screen for a few moments, as a small smile crept onto her face.

Sure, he was still a dick, but maybe he'd quiet down now. He'd settle with the loft for now, two armies of lawyers would get to work behind the same, and maybe, just maybe, she'd finally catch a break from the two-week-long headache that had been plaguing her incessantly.

Y/n sat on her sofa, some Netflix show playing on the TV, though she hadn't heard a word. Finally, she'd replied to all her emails and drafted all the responses she needed to- for today at least.

Her phone buzzed and she scrambled in search of the device, before eventually fishing it out from down the back of the couch. She checked the notification: her best friend had sent her some reel on Instagram. She watched it, it was something stupid, which she responded to wth a simple double tap.

Almost instinctually, she navigated to her home feed and opened the first story to pop up. Her heart fell.

For at least a minute, she glared at her phone, as if she could stare so hard it'd turn him to stone on the other side of the city. God, how she wished it would.

Maybe Kylian Mbappé had much more going on in his life and didn't think about her as much as she thought about him. It was her job, of course, that was the only reason. Nevertheless, this felt like a personal attack, and she was more than ready to fight back.

She was not a loser and she wasn't a quitter.

He'd almost gotten off lightly, then he'd pulled this shit? He'd fooled her for a few hours and made her pay for it. Big mistake. He didn't know what was coming.

Sharply, she tossed her phone straight back onto the couch, with so much force it bounced back toward her. As she scowled at the plain walls of her apartment, she let out a loud yell. Who cared if her neighbours thought she was delusional?

"Fuck you!"

Chapter 3 Masterlist

#kylian mbappe #kylian x you #kylian x reader #kylian fanfic #french #kylian mbappe x reader #kylian mbappé #kylian mbappe x y/n #kylian mbappe x you #france #equipe de france #fanfic #football #footballer #mbappe #mbappé

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kydrogendragon · 12 days

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Palms of life and death! I’m so excited for where that story goes!

Yessssss, so this one I've gotten a lot of world building notes on and some high level plot point, but not a ton of actual writing yet. It's been on the back burner, simmering for some time, but I do have some initial Chapter 3 notes!

Dream wakes up the next morning feeling groggy at best, sickly at worst.

He heaves himself from bed, strips out of his robe and shift, leaving him bare chested and only in his pants. He slowly unwraps his hands and massages the pain in his palms and wrists. They are raw as are parts of his upper arms. The magic that flows through him leaves a toll.

He shuffles to the bathroom and uses the pyromancy trick he learned from Destruction to light the few wall candles. He draws a bath (powered by runes to pull forth and heat the water). He waits, sitting on the edge of his tub, staring off into the distance until the bath is drawn.

He slides in, groaning at the creaking joints and aching muscles. He relaxes, enjoying the peace and comfort the warm water brings. At some point, he ends up falling asleep in the tub. The runes keep the water warm.

When he wakes again, he slowly dunks his head under the water, enjoying the feeling of being submerged. He lifts his head back out and begins the ritual of cleansing his hair and his body. Soap across the body. Specialty products Calliope had insisted on their necessity. (it’s basically just shampoo and conditioner)

He uses a pitcher to wash the remaining product from his hair and steps out of the bath, wrapping himself in the fluffy towel that hangs beside.

Some bit here about needing to shave, he can feel the scruff on his chin already. Bit about needing to be presentable for the remaining Burgess rituals.

He goes back to his room and puts on a pair of loose clothing (pants that fall just to his calves? Billowing shirt?) and makes his way to the kitchen.

The bread on the counter has long gone stale and hard. He pokes it. Inedible, save maybe for the birds. The icebox is mostly full of decaying vegetables or long since spoiled leftovers his sister has brought him. There is, however, a fillet of fish that, upon sniffing, still seems good.

He tosses it into a pan with a bit of oil and begins to cook it. The smells draws Cat forth, meowing and pawing at Dream’s arm. He talks with the cat while he cooks.

Plating the fish, he sections off a chuck for Cat, who he converses with and decides to name Prophet. He ends up pawning more fish over to her than he really should, especially given that he needs the food for himself. He nabs an apple that’s still firm and takes a few bites of it as well as Prophet finishes off the last bit of fish from the plate.

He leans against the counter, his legs feeling better than they were before, but still wobbly. He puts the apple in the icebox, sets the plates in the overflowing sink with a promise to himself that he’ll clean it... next time, and then goes back to bed.

He wakes once, sometime still in the day to a weight on his stomach. Prophet is curled on his body atop the bedding. He gives her a few pets before nodding back off.

He wakes in the middle of the night, needing to relieve himself. He downs a glass of water as well before going back to bed.

The next time he wakes, it’s around midday. Prophet is gone, most likely out hunting field mice or relaxing in the summer sun. He gets out of bed, cleans his face and teeth, relieves himself, and stumbles to the kitchen. There is just half of the apple left, but little else. He needs to go shopping, much to his own dismay.

He’ll go later, when the sun is not so warm. He finishes off the apple as he lies on the couch, staring up at the painted ceiling, reminiscing on its creation.

Also a few random snippets in this universe from before the story's main plot.

Hob's POV

The fields near the shores of the Outerlands were calm, for once. The Crown’s forces have manages to push back most of Hell’s Legions a few clicks past the water’s edge, so they’ve been able to set up camp around here. Hob sits, in a small meadow nearby, listen to the sounds of steel and shuffling armor, of words of magic and song, all wafting from the main camp just down the hill. The grasses here are soft. Flowers pop up all over, their blues and reds and purples and yellows making a stark contrast to the rest of the rolling greens fields and golden grains of sands from the beach just over the short cliffside. A wind washes over the land, cool and salty from it’s journey across the sea. A few leaves, freshly fallen from the trees nearby, swirl like a funnel, upwards towards the heavens. It’s peaceful, almost. This war has been dragging on for far too long, if you asked him. Hell, if you asked anyone here, save the Crown and maybe a few die-hards. And for what? No, nothing was worth the price innocent blood as already spilled. Yet Hob remains. He sighs, pulling his knees towards his chest, resting his arms on top. He’s due back to the mainland soon. Just a week more then he gets to return home from his fourth campaign in a row. He’ll be required to take a rest after this, to find life in the city again. Hob’s not sure he’ll know what to do, but he’s adaptable. He’ll figure it out... eventually. For now? He’ll sit here and enjoy the breeze.

Dream's POV

The duvet is warm. It curls against his body like a second skin, holding close the heat and comfort he desperately craves. It has been two weeks since Calliope left. It has been just over three since Orpheus... since he... Dream pulls the fabric impossibly closer. The wall across from the spare bed is blank save a single scratch in the wall made by Orpheus many years ago when he’d been running through the house. His wooden toy bird was in his hand, outstretched, when he’d ran it into the soft wall on accident. Orpheus had been so sad, so afraid that he and calliope would be angry with him. Now Dream wishes he’d made more marks, more stains and stories left around so that the house didn’t feel so empty without them both here. The bed has slowly melded to his body. He can feel it’s press against his bones. He must have lain here for quite some time. Dream knows he has watched the sun peer in through the doorway rise and set many times. He has barely moved, save for the most basic of needs. But he finds him home back buried into the sheets and the warmth and the dark, away from it all. He aches, and yet, is numb. It is a strange sensation. He stares at the faint mark in the wall and closes his eyes, feeling the wetness underneath his lids. There is little solace to be found in his dreams. He prays to the Creator for a peaceful night, though he knows well he does not deserve it. The room falls away as sleep washes over him in his exhaustion. It is dreamless. It is a blessing.

The WIP Title Game

#ky writes #wip game #in the palms of life and death #dreamling #cleric x necromancer au

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maybelinefox · 22 days

Text

2003 Lighthouse AU Chapter 1: First Meeting

This is inspired by @beebopurr 's Rise lighthouse au, and you should definitely go see theirs for yourself. I love their art! The first meeting in this chapter is taken almost directly from theirs as well as an ask they got. The rest is from me.

TW: mentions of guns and the use of them and an injury caused by one in this chapter and the next. Weapons (mostly guns) will be a continuing plot point that will eventually lead to the usage of one in the last chapter that will result in a major injury, but no death. If you don't want to see that, don't read. Minor swearing throughout the story as well.

Here it is on AO3:

Thank you @wendigomahana for beta reading!

Chapter one under cut!

I take a deep breath before stepping off my boat onto the pier. From a distance, the only thing I could see of this island was green. Now that I'm up close, I still only see green, aside from the giant-ass rock cliff the lighthouse is sitting on. I've never seen this many trees gathered in one place in my entire life.

I can't tell if it's gorgeous or intimidating.

I probably shouldn't do any exploring until I've studied a map of this place or something. Knowing me, I'd get lost in like ten minutes.

Once I reach the walkway leading off the pier, I look back up at the lighthouse to see a person walking out of it. He waves, and I wave back. Looking back down to the ground, I see the walkway leads to a path curving up onto the rock. I shove my hands back into my pockets as I follow the trail.

"You're a couple hours early," the man states as I reach the entrance to the cliff.

"I purposefully overestimated my arrival time in case the ocean tried to pull me back. Or in case I forgot how to sail."

He nods, breaking a smile. "Well, I s'pose that makes sense. You sail much?"

I shake my head. "Just got that boat a couple months back. Haven't been able drive one myself much lately, but I practically grew up on the water."

He chuckles and looks out towards the pier. "Certainly looks a lot better than my old dingy. Haven't used that thing in a few years 'cept for reef fishin. Hope it still works."

His shoulders move in a near silent chuckle as he turns towards the lighthouse.

"Already got all my stuff packed up. Friend a mine came and got the bigger things last week. Place should be cleaned out for ya, 'cept the bare essentials and furniture it came with. All of which 'sides the food is pretty old. Most of it's been here longer than me."

He gives me a tour of the place, which entirely consists of four and a half rooms. The main living area with a kitchenette, a bathroom, and a small storage closet all on the bottom floor, and then a curved set of stairs leading up to the bedroom. The stairs keep going up to the top of the lighthouse where the main workspace is, and then up to the light itself.

"And that's the whole building," he states with a shrug. "Not much, but they don't really expect one person to need more than this, I guess. Here, let me show you how all this works."

After about a half an hour of him going over all the rules and procedures and showing me what all the knobs and buttons do as well as how to work the phone and radio, we head back downstairs. Over the next hour or so he shows me a few chores that need to be done a certain way, and then goes over the rest of the chores that are pretty self-explanatory. Then, we find ourselves standing in the living room again.

"Well, I guess that's it," he starts as he turns to take one last look at the inside of the lighthouse. "Ya know, when I first got here, it only took me a couple months of boredom to become so done with this place I wanted nothing more than to leave it. Now…" he takes a deep, sentimental breath and shakes his head fondly. "Now I really think I'm gonna miss this."

"You can come back to see the place whenever you want," I tell him with a small smile. "Just keep in mind I took this job 'cause I'm a major introvert, so I'd like to be warned at least a few hours in advance, if ya could."

He chuckles. "I will certainly take that offer into consideration. And honestly, I may just take ya up on it within the next week or so. Got a feelin I'm gonna be homesick real soon. And this ain't even my home anymore."

"Where ya going?"

"Oh, I'm stayin with a friend a mine till I can find me a place. Gonna be doin nothin but house hunting for a bit now. Sure I'm ‘onna get bored with that pretty quick."

I smile. "Yeah, I can imagine."

He looks around one last time.

"Well, I s'pose I should get outta your hair now. Let you get yourself all comfortable and set up and all. Do ya need anything before I go?"

"What did you say your name was again, sir?"

He reaches his hand out for a handshake, and I take it.

"You can just call me Phil, little lady."

I shake his hand.

"It was nice meeting you, Phil."

"You as well, Ayla."

He turns to leave the building. Then, like he forgot something, he pauses and turns back to me, pointing towards something leaning against the wall next to the front door.

"Almost forgot, I'm leaving ya that rifle there, just in case."

"In case a what?"

He turns fully towards me now, eyebrows furrowed to show his seriousness.

"There's things out here. Don't know what they are, but they ain't human. Only seen one clearly once. Big green thing, walked on two legs, something wrong with its back. Now, I dunno what that thing was, but I sure as hell wouldn't let it get close enough to find out if I were you."

He walks towards the gun bag, unzipping it to show the rifle inside. A Marlin. Ruger-made.

"Ammo for it is on this shelf here right above it. I've shot at them with it a few times. They don't get much closer than the trees no more, but best to keep using this to teach them not to get closer. I got it all nice fer ya in it's bag, but it'd be smarter to keep it loaded and ready to grab at moment’s notice."

He gestures towards the door, hand still on the gun.

"Pretty sure I hit one a them last week. Not sure where, but I saw blood splatter on the ground the next morning. It's probably bled out somewhere, so hopefully that's one down."

He leaves the bag unzipped and walks back over to me.

"I've called people to deal with them. They got one a them, so they told me a few years back. But there's more, and those people come by every once in a while to try again. So, in case ya ain't feelin too safe, there’s no need to worry."

I nod, not sure whether to take this seriously or not. At least it's a nice gun.

"I'll keep that in mind."

He nods, satisfied, then turns back towards the door.

Standing near the edge of the cliff, I wave at Phil as he readies himself to pull away from the pier. At least we discovered the engine still runs, so he won't need to call someone to come get him.

Nice guy, but I got this job to be alone. Didn't want to have to wait a few more hours for someone to get here to tow his boat.

After I'm sure he's far from the island, I turn back towards the lighthouse. I'll get my stuff from my boat tomorrow. I've got all the essentials in my bag. For now, I'm exhausted from the trip and would rather just crash.

This lighthouse, like almost every other lighthouse in the country, is automated. Phil already did all the daily chores before I got here, saving the ones that needed demonstration for last so he could show me how to do them, so nothing to worry about until tomorrow.

The next week is pretty much just me getting the hang of things. The biggest of the chores is keeping the lens and windows in the tower clean so the light isn't any dimmer than it should be at night, as well as keeping an eye on all the electronics to make sure none of them are busted or wearing out or need replacement. Honestly, I'm already starting to understand what Phil meant by boredom. There's not much to do around here. I'm almost wishing I was living a few decades ago, when lighthouse keepers had way more to do without all the automated electronics. When they actually controlled the light and had to remain focused on their task. There's really nothing for me to focus on now.

I also haven't seen those "things" Phil was talking about. My first night, I thought I saw something moving around in the trees at the base of the rock, but I was so exhausted that night I wouldn't be surprised if I was delirious enough to think something moving in the wind was a monster. Or worse yet, maybe I was hallucinating. But after I got some sleep, everything was normal.

The second week begins just about the same. Chores about a third of the day at most, then finding ways to entertain myself for the rest of the time. I've begun researching hobbies that can be easily practiced on an island just a few miles from the mainland.

I get supplies delivered to me once a month. They take a list from me of essentials only, such as certain foods I like, what brand of toothpaste I prefer, etc., as well as anything anyone on the mainland wants to send me. If I want to order something online, I have to have it sent to someone I trust on the mainland, family or friend or whatever, and have them take it to the people loading the supply ship. Or just have them bring it to me themselves in their own boat. So basically, if I want a material hobby, like knitting or some other kind of crafty thing, I have to go through multiple channels just to get the supplies for it. So it'd be best to take up something I can do on the island with the bare essentials, just to avoid the hassle.

By this time, I've set up a comfortable chair on the cliff behind the lighthouse, overlooking the water. I've spent the last couple nights sitting out on this chair for a while to watch the waves.

It's on one of these particular nights I'm looking out over the water and watching the lighthouse light gleam across the sky in the distance, thinking on maybe taking up fishing again, when I hear something thud against the rocks beneath me.

I sit up straight, listening to see if I can figure out what that was before I have to investigate.

Or if I even want to investigate.

Not long after the initial thud, I hear what sounds like a groan, followed by a whimper and some thrashing in the water.

Shit.

Quickly, I grab my lantern, (extra strength, battery powered, obviously), and rush back inside to grab my med kit.

Something alive is down there, and probably hurt pretty bad by the sound of that thud.

I make my way down the path to the base of the lighthouse rock as quickly as I can before darting towards the water. Once I turn around the base to see the rocks beneath the lighthouse, I freeze.

There, leaning up against one of the larger rocks, is....

Something....

I can't tell what I'm looking at. The light from the lantern is barely hitting it, but I can see what looks like...green...scales? I can't tell, but it doesn't look like normal scale-less human skin. It's humanoid, but I'm not sure I'd call it human. And its back is...huge…

The second the light hits it, the creature whips its head towards me. I see what looks like brown eyes before they go completely white. They still look open, but there's some kind of...inner eyelid? I think? Covering them. Its head is a bit rounder than a human head normally is, and it looks naked, but there's something of a much lighter greenish color covering it in the front. And there's something wrapped around it, but I can’t really tell from here what it is.

Once it sees me, the creature quickly slides backwards to get away from me, but ends up trapped against the rock behind it. From the direction of the trail left by whatever it's trapped in, (I think it might be a fishing net?), it looks like it hit one of the smaller rocks closer to where I'm standing and pulled itself into an alcove created by the larger rocks further away. So it can't jump into the water and the cliff rock is too close to the rocks it's leaning against to be able to squeeze through.

It's trapped.

It seems to realize this after quickly turning to examine the rock it backed into, and whips its head back to me with wide, fearful, inner eyelid covered eyes.

I step a bit closer, allowing the light to cover more of the creature. The opening of the fishing net it's trapped in seems to be hooked over its neck. The netting is ripped and wrapped around its left arm and back, trapping the arm against its chest. The rest is dangling off, trailing out into the water and around the rocks.

I take a deep breath and step closer, causing the creature to curl up defensively against the rock. I hold up my med kit.

"Hey," I say, trying to sound as calm and soothing as possible. "I'm not gonna hurt ya. I'm here to help, actually."

The creature turns its head slightly, towards the med kit. I can't see where it's looking with its eyes all white like that, but I can see something akin to recognition crossing its features before it seems to look back to me. It doesn't move, though.

I take another slow step closer. It still doesn't move. After a couple more steps, it suddenly decides to use another tactic to protect itself.

Unfurling itself, the creature crouches on its three available limbs and looks up at me with its teeth bared. The strangest, most menacing clicking noise I've ever heard escapes from its throat, and I immediately freeze in place.

When it sees that method had an effect, it takes what I can only assume by its still fearful face is something it believes to be a bold risk, and takes a step towards me.

Now I'm the one who doesn't move despite a terrifying, unknown creature advancing on me.

It snaps its teeth at me and clicks louder, stepping towards me again, but I can see that its resolve began waning when I didn't back away.

Making a bold move myself, I step towards it again.

It stops moving and flinches backwards a bit, causing a hiccup in the clicks.

"I want to help," I say again, holding up and pointing to the med kit. "This will help you feel better. I'm sure that net around you is painful."

It seems to understand some of my words, because it stops clicking and tilts its head as if it's listening. Now that there's more light on it, and in its current crouched position, I can clearly see what looked so strange about this creature's back.

It's got a shell. Like a turtle shell. That must be what's on its front, the plastron of the shell. And the sounds it was making just adds to that fact to tell me what's happening here, impossible as it may seem.

This thing is quite literally a giant, humanoid turtle.

I'm suddenly reminded of the description Phil gave me of those monsters he was talking about, and I begin to wonder if maybe he truly wasn't crazy, or if I'm already going crazy myself.

After a moment, the turtle creature straightens back up just a bit, sitting back on its legs and raising its functioning arm up off the ground about an inch or so, resting its elbow on its knee. It stares at the box.

"...help...?" It says slowly, curiously, in a raspy voice that obviously hasn't been used much.

I feel my eyes widen a little in shock. I don't know what I was expecting when I spoke to it, but apparently I wasn't expecting it to speak back.

"Y-yes," I say, taking another slow step forwards. It doesn't move back, but its head slides down slightly, as if it's watching my feet move. "Yeah, I want to help. I'm gonna see if I can get that net off ya, then this box has stuff in it I can use to fix your wounds."

I speak slowly, because I don't know what it can and can't understand. Hearing myself talk, I weirdly begin wondering if maybe it understands perfectly, and just doesn't need to talk, hence the raspy voice. So perhaps me speaking slowly and trying to use simple words is only being condescending. I shove those thoughts out of my head in favor of focusing on the situation at hand, deciding that if proof arises that this turtle thing does understand perfect English, I'll immediately start speaking to it normally.

The creature watches my slow approach, though now it holds just as much curiosity in its gaze as fear.

Once I'm almost within reaching distance of it, it falls backwards and pushes itself up against the rock again.

"Can...get it....no help...." It says slowly, reaching up with its free hand to grab the net around its other arm.

"Don't do that," I crouch down next to it, but it jerks away from me.

"No help," it says again, more firmly this time.

"You could hurt yourself doing that," I say, reaching into my pocket to grab my knife. "Let me get it,"

"No."

The turtle pulls on the net.

I reach out and grab its hand.

Jumping in surprise, it lets go of the net and turns towards me. Then just as suddenly, it's eyes screw shut in pain and it hisses, free hand shooting up to grab its neck where the net is hooked.

I sigh, figuring what probably happened, and bring the knife out of my pocket, holding the lantern up to see better.

Its eyes open, then immediately squint in the light.

"Here, can you hold this right here?" I ask, holding the lantern a bit closer to its free hand.

It turns its head to see me better as its hand comes up to grab the lantern. Unfortunately, in doing so, it sees the knife.

It gasps as it flinches backwards, it's hand shooting into the water behind it to support it leaning away from me.

"Oh shit-" I blurt out in realization as it uses its hand to scoot into the adjacent rock a couple feet away.

"Wait," I stand back up, adjusting the med kit on my back, hoping it didn't touch the water when I was crouched. "I need it to cut away that net. It's not gonna come off by pulling at it. I promise I'm not trying to hurt you."

"Bad men use," it states fearfully, pointing towards the knife. "Bad men hurt us with sharp thing."

Ok, so it seems to be capable of full sentences, weakly formulated as they are.

I sigh, stepping closer only a little and holding my hands up as open as I can while holding the lantern and knife.

"I'm not the bad men. I want to help. Knives can be used for good things too."

Staring wide-eyed at me, it slowly brings its hand back towards the net, gripping it but not pulling.

"That hurt you, remember?" I say, pointing with my lantern hand at the net. "Don't pull on it. This can get it off of you without hurting."

The turtle shrinks in on itself a little, staring at the knife. Its gaze slowly shifts over to me, and after a few moments of staring, it slowly nods.

"Ok," it says quietly. "No hurting...."

"No hurting," I repeat, slowly taking the couple steps necessary to get to it.

I crouch down next to it again and hold out the lantern for it to grab.

"Can you hold this for me? It'll make it easier for me to take the net off."

The turtle slowly reaches up and gently takes hold of the lantern handle, fingers brushing mine. That's when I notice it only has three. And they are indeed covered in scales. Very smooth, soft, green scales.

I try not to think about how strange that felt as I let go of the lantern.

"Now, just keep it right there, ok? This hopefully won't take long."

The turtle nods, keeping its white eyes trained on me, but it feels like its actual eyes are glaring at the knife.

Slowly, so it can see everything that's happening, I move the knife to sit underneath the net, blade pointed up, and begin sawing away, using my other hand to anchor the net in place. It doesn't take long before the thickest part of it is cut, taking most of the tension off the turtle's neck.

The second that tension is gone, the turtle sighs in relief, leaning back a little like it's deflating as the stress leaves the muscles of its shoulders. It keeps watching, though.

I cut away a few more pieces of the netting still holding its arm in place, then slowly reach up to its neck as I put my knife away. The turtle tenses up again, not sure what I'm doing and once again fearful of my intentions.

"I wanna look and see what it did to your neck," I explain. "It hurt you, so I wanna make sure you're not bleeding."

It flinches slightly away from my hand, then looks down at the net now in the water and its newly freed arm. After a moment, it looks back up at me and slowly nods.

I slowly place the tips of my fingers on its face and turn its head towards me to give me a better view of its neck. I can feel its hidden eyes on me as I lean around it to see the wound better. Luckily, it doesn't look like it's bleeding. At least, not badly. However, the skin (scales?) there has been rubbed nearly raw and there seems to be a small opening where the net sliced into the flesh.

"Ok, that's not too bad," I say. "Let me see your arm."

I release its face and move a bit in front of it so I can see the arm more directly. It raises its left arm, far less hesitant than I expected, and allows me to hold it in my hands. There are a few scratches but nothing major, the realization of which has me letting out a breath of relief. The turtle tilts its head curiously at the sound, but doesn't say anything.

"Well," I start. "It doesn't look too bad. If you wouldn't mind, I'd like to get you inside to look at it in better lighting and to bandage you up. Of course, you don't have to if you don't want to, but it would make me feel better to know your wounds are covered. At least the neck one."

What I can only assume to be this hairless creature's brows furrow in confusion at my words.

"Inside?" It asks. "Where?"

I point up to the cliff, where the top of the lighthouse is visible from underneath.

"In there. That's where I live."

It follows my finger, and when its eyes land on the lighthouse, its jaw drops in a light gasp. Unexpectedly, the inner eyelids covering its eyes slide open, revealing my previous assumption of its eyes being brown to be correct. Its surprisingly human-like chocolate irises stare up at the lighthouse in wonder as I watch on.

"In there?" It asks in disbelief.

The more I hear its voice, the more I believe this creature is male. It sounds young, (which doesn't help), with a very soft and somewhat higher pitched voice, but the tone sounds to be more in the masculine area.

"Yeah, in there," I say, slowly standing. "Don't worry, I live alone."

I reach out my hand to help it (him?) up. He turns his head back towards me, and his eyes move to my hand once he sees it hovering in front of him. After a moment of staring, he looks back up at me.

"Can't go there."

Now it's my turn to tilt my head, but more in confusion.

"Why not?"

"Angry man lives there," he explains, looking back down at my hand. "Very loud. Bang stick hurts. Can't go there."

My eyes widen in realization.

Phil told me he kept the "big green thing(s)" away from the lighthouse by shooting at them. He said he hit one last week.

I quickly look the turtle over again, but he doesn't look like he's been shot anywhere. Not anywhere I can see in this lighting, at least.

"Here," I say, holding one hand closer to his right and reaching for the lantern with the other one. "Grab my hand with yours. I'm gonna help you stand up."

He glances between my face and my hand a couple times and waits for me to pull the lantern out of his hand before he slowly moves it towards mine. Gently, his three fingers slide into my five, and we both close our fingers around each other's palms.

I'm suddenly hit with the thought that this guy is probably very heavy. But luckily for me, his left arm is not too injured for him to push himself part of the way, mainly using my grip for stability as he gets himself up.

"That guy left almost two weeks ago," I say as he lets go to test if he can stand on his own. "I live there now, not him."

The turtle, now standing just about eye-level with me, turns to look at me in shock after he's determined he's quite stable on his own two feet.

"Angry man is gone?" he asks, sounding doubtful.

I nod. "It's only me. No one else."

He stares at me for a moment before full comprehension sets in. He then snaps his attention back to the lighthouse and a look I can only describe as pure joy and disbelief lights up his features.

He points up at the building above us.

"I can go in there?" he asks in a quiet voice, seemingly in awe of the concept.

I nod again, smiling. "You sure can. Just follow me."

I turn to lead the way around the rock back to the path. I hear his steps behind me, and a couple jumps in the water as well, as if he were a child jumping for joy at the thought of going into a lighthouse.

I begin to wonder if he is.

A child.

That would explain how young he sounds, and his minor speaking comprehension.

Oh damn. If he's a child, how big will he be as an adult?

All thoughts and worry leave my mind the second my foot steps onto dry land. I cringe at the squelch and the rushing feeling between my toes.

I hadn't really thought. I'd just run out the door. I didn't grab the wading boots. So now my sneakers and socks are soaked.

Ugh, I hate wet shoes.

The turtle doesn't seem to care about the sound of my shoes, however, as his focus remains transfixed on the lighthouse building the entire trip up to it.

Once we reach the door, I pull off my shoes and socks, leaving them outside beside the doorstep to dry, before opening the door and stepping inside to set the lantern down and dry my feet on the doormat. I turn towards the turtle and gesture for him to come inside.

"Come on in," I say as I leave the door to head to the bathroom.

When I come back out wearing dry pants and holding a towel for him, I find him standing at the door still, wide eyes taking in every detail of the living room.

I step towards him, gently grabbing his good arm to tug him inside. My measly pull doesn't move him even the slightest bit, but he gets the hint and steps forward. I close the door behind him and turn to put the towel over his shoulders. Or, I try to. The shell ends up taking most of the coverage.

He turns towards me at the feeling of something touching him, then looks down in surprise to see the towel. I walk in front of the turtle to pull the towel up tighter around his shoulders.

"You can use this to dry yourself off. Like this."

I rub a small part of the towel over his wet arm, then pull it away to show the now dry scales.

He blinks in surprise, then grabs the towel and begins rubbing it over his scales, trying to recreate the magic in other wet areas of his body. I smile at this as I head over to one of the stools at the kitchen counter, pulling it out and turning it towards him. Setting the med kit on the counter, I turn back to see he's already mostly dried himself off.

"Alright come sit here so I can patch you up," I tell him.

He looks away from the bottom of his foot he's currently wiping the towel on and up at me before glancing down at the stool. He uses the towel for one last scrub of his other foot before slowly making his way to the stool to sit down. I step around in front of him as he puts the towel back over his shoulders and hugs it to him as much as he can.

"I'm gonna need to see your arm and neck, bud," I tell him, motioning to the towel. He pouts, but takes it off and bunches it in his lap, hugging it to himself. I make a mental note to get him my warmest blanket after we're done here.

I spend the next few minutes cleaning and dressing his wounds. Mostly the one on his neck. There's only one on his arm bad enough to need to be covered. His neck wound is the most concerning, but so long as it stays clean and covered the scales will probably grow back.

"There," I say, finishing the last one. "That should be better."

He looks down at the bandage on his arm. He hadn't reacted well to the cleaning alcohol used on his wounds, especially when it hit the raw open spot on his neck. But with some gentle encouragement, he had allowed me to continue. I'm not sure if that means he trusts me, but at least he's not afraid of me anymore.

"Can I see the light now?" he asks in a very excited, childish voice.

I glance into his eyes to see them wide open, a hopeful gleam in his irises.

I can't help but smile at the childish enthusiasm.

"Sure, but you have to be careful. We don't want to break it. The light is very important for the ships going by in the water."

He nods enthusiastically, dropping the formerly precious towel as he stands.

On the way up through the bedroom, I grab him a blanket, and he happily wraps it around himself as he walks up the stairs.

The turtle is practically shaking with joy the entire time we're up in the light. He stays true to his promise to be careful, but he apparently took it as "don't touch anything". On multiple occasions, I can see his hands twitching towards some mechanism on the light out of curiosity, before he remembers jerks them away. So, I show him some areas I'm not too worried about him touching, just to help him get that out of his system.

When his hand first touches the cool metal at the base of the lamp, he seems to melt into the touch, entirely in awe of the giant metal beast in front of him. He watches the lamp turn, marveling at the sight.

"Why does it do that?"

"Do what?"

He slowly looks towards me and holds one finger up before moving it in circles, similar to how the lamp spins.

"Oh, the lamp spins to give sailors the impression the light is blinking. Or turning on and off. That way they won't mistake it for a star, and will know they need to go towards it."

"Cool...." He says in an impressed, breathy tone, as he looks back up at the lamp. Then he tilts his head, seemingly confused.

"But..." He thinks for a moment. "It can...blink...itself?" He glances at me, then turns back towards the light, almost shy now.

"Sorry..."

Ah. He's embarrassed by his question.

"That's a good question, actually," I start, and he turns back towards me, blinking in surprise, before a slight smile graces his features.

"Back before they could just screw in a lightbulb whenever the light went out, they used giant lanterns. Those aren't nearly as easy to turn on and off, and would have to have someone sitting by them all night in order to keep it up. So that's why they came up with the spinning thing. The lens magnified the lantern light, and that's what was spun. It moved around the lantern to create the blinking effect."

As I explain, I gesture to certain parts of the lamp that are still somewhat similar, though the whole thing is essentially a giant flashlight. The turtle watches with genuine interest as I answer what he believed to be a stupid question with an entire historical/scientific monologue.

"They did that for so long it became iconic, and what sailors specifically looked for. So some lighthouses, like this one, still spin the light around. Just for sentimental reasons, to be honest."

"Woah...." He says under his breath, genuinely impressed by the reasoning. "That was so smart...."

"It really was, huh?" I look around a moment before an idea comes to me. I head back downstairs to the office area and look around the walls until I find it. Stretching up, I carefully pull the paper off the wall, smiling down at it in my hands before heading back up.

He had turned and stood to watch me when he’d noticed me leaving, and observes me curiously as I ascend the stairs. I hold the paper out to him.

"Do you know what that is?" I ask him as he takes it. His "brows" furrow in concentration as he stares at it.

"A....old....lighthouse?" He asks, unsure. He looks up at me and tilts his head.

"Yep. It's the first lighthouse. Or what they believe is the first lighthouse."

His eyes widen in excitement, and he looks back down at the drawing.

"There's a few different designs of what they believe it looked like, but that's the most agreed upon. The thing is in ruins now, so there's no way to be sure."

He listens to my words before pointing at a few written on the page.

"Pa...pa-ras?" He tries to pronounce the word above the building on the paper.

Ok, so he can kind of read. Interesting.

I point to the letters of the word.

"'P' and 'h' together make an 'f' sound, and that's an 'o', pronounced just like that." I don't wanna move too fast and try to explain the accent it should be pronounced with, so I stick with the basics. That should get him to pronounce it almost exactly.

He stares for a second longer before trying again.

"Pha...ros?"

"Yes!" I say, and he smiles at the praise.

"Pharos was built in Alexandria, Egypt. They think about twenty-five hundred years ago or so. It's the first known lighthouse, so everyone who studies or works in lighthouses are called 'pharologists' in honor of the first one."

He looks back up from the paper and points at me.

"You?"

I chuckle. "Yes, that would make me a pharologist too, since I work in a lighthouse and have studied how they work."

He beams at this information. "Cool!"

He asks a few more questions about lighthouses and the mechanisms of the light itself, and I do my best to answer all of them. After about half an hour, he begins slowing down. I notice he looks at the bandage on his arm a few times. Then he goes silent for a bit, staring out the window at something in the trees and pulling the blanket tighter around himself. I look out too, trying to see if I can find what he's looking at, but I just see trees.

Just when I'm wondering if I should question him or just leave him to it, he turns to me.

"Are you a doctor?"

I blink a few times in surprise at the random question, before shaking my head.

"If you mean a medical doctor, no. I have some minor medical training, but nothing to the level of an actual doctor."

"But you can fix...uh...wounds?"

"If they're not bad enough to need a hospital, yes. Why?"

“Hos...pital…?”

“It’s a place where sick or hurt people go to get better. The real doctors are there.”

He stares at me for a moment, seeming to contemplate something. Then he looks back out the window.

"We need a doctor...." He says quietly, almost too low for me to hear.

This is the second time he's referenced there being more of him. Phil had spoken as if there were multiple, so I had automatically been thinking like there were. But now that I'm actually thinking about it, I begin to wonder if there's like a whole tribe of them, or if it's just a single family. And if he's a kid, then what do the adults look like? Would they be more wary of me than this one?

"Do you need me to go somewhere?" I ask, almost hoping he says they can bring the injured party here. If there are bigger and far more untrusting and protective adults out there, I'd rather not risk going into their territory.

He turns back to me.

"He hurt to move. Sleep all day. Hurt when he's awake. Not eat much anymore."

"So, you don't think he can come here?" I ask.

He looks down to think for a moment, then shakes his head.

"Can't move."

"Ok..." I cross my arms in contemplation. "Do you know what's wrong with him? How he got hurt?"

At that, the turtle looks back up at me, and upon seeing me his eyes widen in some kind of realization before he flinches backwards.

Oh, he's scared of me again. What did I do?

I back up a step, holding my hands out.

"Are you ok? I'm sorry if I-"

"Human…" he says, wrapping his arms and the blanket around himself. "Bang stick...."

Oh....

OH.

The one Phil shot is still alive.

"Where?" I ask.

He looks back at me, confused.

"Where did the bang stick hit him?" I ask again.

A different kind of realization passes over his features, and he moves the blanket to raise his left hand and points to a spot on his right arm. Just below the elbow. Then he moves his finger across his scales from one side of the outer arm to the other, drawing a line.

So the bullet grazed him, but left a sizeable enough gash. That gash probably became infected.

Damn. That infection’s probably been raging for over two weeks. I'm almost shocked the arm hasn't fallen off. Unless it's already spread up further. Cutting the arm off to save the body is probably out of the question now, as it's highly likely it's already reached organs. There's no way he'd be able to survive much longer without antibiotics.

Of which I'm not exactly in rich supply.

Also, these are turtles. They have a different form of healthcare in certain areas. I know a lot about turtles, but I'm trained in human medical health. I wouldn't be too confident I'm doing the right thing if you threw a heavily injured turtle in front of me.

"Is it swollen?" I ask. I know the answer, but I'm hoping he can tell me it's not as bad as I think.

He makes a curious sound, almost like a chirp, as he tilts his head.

"His arm," I gesture towards my arm, then hold my hand open around it to signify a bigger size. "Is it bigger than it should be?"

He nods and makes a similar gesture himself to show how much bigger.

Ok, not too much bigger, I suppose. But then again, I can't actually be sure until I see for myself.

"Ok, let me get some stuff."

This definitely can't wait until morning. If he's had an infection in his arm since it was shot, every second counts.

I grab up my med kit as well as any and every antibiotic, painkiller, and anti-inflammatory I can find and throw them in a separate bag along with a few bottles of water and some clean rags. Stopping to think for a moment, I decide to bring some strong sleeping pills too. Just in case surgery or something painful of the sort ends up needing to happen. On that note, I grab multiple sharp objects of differing sizes to throw in the second bag as well.

This is really gonna suck.

Leaving the storage closet, I find the turtle blanketless and standing in the living room, staring at the door.

I should really find a name for him. Or maybe ask him and see if he's already got a name.

"Hey," I start, walking up to him. "So, I can't believe I haven't already asked you, but do you...."

I trail off as I notice his attention has not turned to me, and he's still staring at the door. Following his gaze, I freeze when I realize what he's staring at.

The gun is still by the door.

I debate whether I should try to pull his attention away from it or go over and physically move it.

Sighing, I figure touching it would make things worse.

"It's not gonna hurt you," I say softly.

He slowly turns to me.

"It hurt Mikey."

Mikey.

Ok, so they do have names.

Interesting.

"That's because the guy holding it wanted to hurt him," I say. "It can't hurt anyone unless it's being held by someone who wants to use it to hurt people."

Slowly, I move towards it. I hadn't closed the bag, so it's still leaning against the wall halfway exposed. Reaching out, carefully, so he can see what I'm doing, I grab the zipper and zip up the bag so the rifle is no longer visible.

"Now, no one's holding it, so it won't shoot. It won't hurt you. And it's gonna stay here. I'm not intending on bringing it with us."

Unless....

I look back at him.

"Is where we're going dangerous?"

He tilts his head. "Why would it be?"

I think for a moment on how to explain, and settle on: "It's probably not dangerous for you, but is it dangerous for me?"

He stares for a moment, thinking, before shaking his head.

"I'll be with you. They'll have to let you in."

Ok, ominous, but I'll take it.

"Then it'll stay here."

I move away from the gun to open the door.

"Why bring it to danger? That would make the danger worse?"

He steps around the gun bag to get through the door, giving it a wide berth and staring at it the whole time like it might jump out at him.

"Well, while some people use those to hurt, others use them to protect," I explain, closing the door behind us. "If we were going somewhere dangerous for me, I would be able to use that to protect myself. But I trust you to have my back, so no worries."

I also feel if he had that kind of reaction to seeing it, his family may be just as bad or worse if I walk up carrying the thing that put Mikey into such a scary state. It may end up causing the danger to me, whereas if I didn't have it I would be perfectly safe.

He thinks on what I said for a long time, leading me from the lighthouse into the trees, before finally speaking.

"Why can it do both? Why protect from something that hurts with something that hurts? Isn't that what shields are for?"

"Well, remember how I used the knife to help you? It can hurt, but it can also be used to help."

He turns back to me, still seemingly confused, but connecting the dots.

I sigh.

"If whoever is trying to hurt you tries hard enough, you may need to hurt them back to get them to stop."

He stares at me for a moment before going back to his task of leading me through the forest.

He doesn't talk any more after that.

A while later, as we near some kind of grove-looking area with what appears to be a small cave hidden in a thick patch of trees, the turtle stops and turns to me, nearly swinging the lantern into my face with how quickly he spins.

"Is that why?"

"Is that why what?"

He opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out for a moment as he contemplates his question.

"Is....is that why he hurt us?"

"The angry man?"

He nods.

"Did he think we hurt him?"

I stare at him for a moment, opening my mouth to answer, but ultimately closing it as I try to find the right words. He watches, patiently, waiting to know if he and his family had done something wrong.

I take a deep breath.

"In a manner of speaking, yes. He thought you were going to hurt him, and he wanted to stop you before you could."

"But..." He looks back towards the grove.

"Mikey got too close. He did not hurt angry man. He just wanted to see what angry man was doing. He said angry man was tearing up the lighthouse and he want to see why. Then angry man used the bang stick. Mikey was just watching. He did not mean anything-"

I hold up my hand to stop him.

"Of course he didn't. But the angry man didn't understand. He thought something else was happening. He's the one that misunderstood. Mikey did nothing wrong."

He watches me as I talk, big brown eyes looking about ready to cry.

"What's your name, by the way? I'm sorry I haven't asked."

He sniffles a little, then rubs his eyes.

"D-Donny," he says. "Father called me Donny."

Uh oh.

That was past tense.

Wait, Phil did say one of them was caught a few years ago.

Shit. Are there a bunch of children out here without an adult?

Is there a mother nearby who doesn't talk much, if at all, so she never says names, and that’s why he only mentioned his father?

Is there another type of adult and offspring care system I'm unaware of happening here?

…am I in danger and Donny doesn't know?

I shake my head, just barely enough so Donny doesn't see.

"Ok, Donny," I say, hopefully in a soothing voice. "My name is Ayla."

A small smile appears.

"Hi Ayla."

I chuckle.

"Let's not think about the angry man right now. Mikey needs help, right?"

Donny nods quickly, turning back to the grove.

Masterpost Next

#tmnt 2003 #tmnt #tmnt au #tmnt lighthouse au #tmnt lighthouse au 2003 #tmnt fic

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ddesguv · 1 month

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Chapter 3

As the first rays of dawn creep through the window, casting an ethereal glow upon the countertops and stools of the quaint coffee shop, you can't help but marvel at the delicate balance of life and death that you navigate on a daily basis. The aroma of freshly ground beans and steamed milk fills the air, a heady mix that, to some, might represent the promise of a new day, of hope and possibility.

But you know better. You know that for every customer who strolls in, searching for a pick-me-up before facing the day's challenges, there's another soul out there who deserves to be erased from existence. And for now, Samuel is that soul. Sure, you need to plan it all out, that needs time, and considering that he lives in an apartment, that would be quite tricky, honestly if he lived in a secluded house like the last guy you killed, old Jim, it would have been much better.

You carefully consider your options as you pour steaming milk into a cup, watching the froth rise and dance on the surface. The rhythmic hiss of the steam wand fills the air, a soft counterpoint to the steady stream of patrons ordering their morning fix. You could play the victim this time, that would be fun, to give him the sense of power that he craves, only to lure him on some secluded alleyway and rip all his confidence and power from him as you shove your knife deep inside his guts, oh how marvelous he would look, eyes bulging in fear and surprise, trembling and pathetic, they all look the same, you can feel yourself smiling at the thought.

Sally, your newest coworker, always a curious one, asks what made you so happy today.

"Oh, it's nothing," you reply with a dismissive wave of your hand. "Just thinking about how I'll spend my next days off."

Sally's eyes light up at this. "Really? You're finally taking a break? You should! You've been working so hard lately."

"Yeah I spoke to the manager and asked for a few days off, but you know me," you reply with a dismissive laugh. "I can't even relax when I'm supposed to." Gotta murderer assholes and keep up with life, that part, you keep to yourself.

Sally tilts her head, clearly not quite buying your dismissal but deciding not to push the issue. "Well, if you ever need anything, you know where to find me."

"Thanks, Sally," you reply with a warm smile. "You're a real sweetheart."

As the morning passes, the coffee shop begins to fill up with a steady stream of customers, each one with their own story to tell, their own lives to lead. And in the midst of it all, you continue to plot and scheme, your mind a whirlwind of dark thoughts and cunning plans. It's all a dance, a delicate balance between precision and chaos, and you revel in the control it affords you.

Soon enough, it's time for your shift to end. You bid farewell to Sally and the other baristas, exchanging pleasantries and well-wishes as you prepare to leave. But before you go, you take one last look around the shop, mentally cataloging the faces of the patrons, committing them to memory. There's always another soul out there who deserves to pay for their sins, and you're more than willing to be their judge, jury, and executioner.

As you walk out the door, the cool evening air washes over you, revitalizing your senses. Your car sits idling at the curb, waiting to whisk you away to your next destination. Tonight, you'll need to scope out Samuel's apartment complex, find the perfect spot for the deed. You pull your dark, hooded sweatshirt up over your head, obscuring your features from any prying eyes that might happen to pass by.

Steering your car down the quiet residential street, you can't help but feel a thrill of anticipation course through you. The lights of Samuel's apartment complex come into view, and you slow down, taking in the layout of the buildings, the paths between them. It's going to be tricky, but you're up for the challenge.

You park your car a few blocks away, out of sight but still close enough for a quick getaway. Retrieving a small knife from your glove compartment, you check it over, feeling the cool steel against your skin. Satisfied with its weight and sharpness, you slide it into the pocket of your pants.

Treading lightly through the shadows, you make your way towards Samuel's apartment complex. The buildings loom above you, a testament to the power and wealth of those who live within them. But to you, they are merely structures, nothing more than obstacles to be overcome.

As you near Samuel's building, you duck into a dark alleyway, out of sight of any potential witnesses. You pull your hood further forward, ensuring that your face remains hidden from view.

The alleyway is eerily quiet, the only sound the distant hum of traffic from the main road. The moon casts a pale glow over the concrete, illuminating a syringe and a discarded cigarette butt. You shudder at the thought of what kind of lives these people lead, and how easily they throw away their own humanity.

It seems like luck is in your favor, only 36 minutes later, you see him, still drunk like last night, making his way to the building, even better he opens what looks to be a mailbox, first one on the third row, can't really see the number on it from where you are but at least now you know his apartment number, fuck yeah. Another 7 minutes pass as he tries to open the front door of the building, pushing instead of pulling, God he's such a fucking idiot. With him gone, u wait a little bit more and make your way to the mai boxes, number 10, that's his apartment.

As inconspicuous as possible, you make your way to the back of the building, surveying the fire escape stairs, you decide to do that for a while, paying close attention to the second floor of the building, after a few minutes, light flows from one of the many windows, you focus on it, bingo, it's him, you watch as he opens the window only to start vomiting all over the fire escape, disgusting, maybe that's enough for tonight, tomorrow morning you'll be here to see at what time he leaves, maybe you'll break in his apartment and find more about him.

You slink away from the apartment complex, back to your car, and make your way home. As you drive, you can't help but feel a sense of excitement coursing through you. Another soul marked for death, another life ended. It's not like you enjoy it, but it's a necessary evil. Before you even step inside your apartment, you know that sleep won't come easily tonight. Your mind is still racing with thoughts of your next target, and the one after that. The cycle continues, and you are but a small cog in a much larger machine.

You change out of your dirty clothes, shower quickly, and climb into bed. But even as your head hits the pillow, your eyes remain wide open. Your mind wanders back to the image of Samuel, retching on the fire escape. You can't help but wonder what kind of life he led, what demons he was trying to escape. In a way, you almost feel sorry for him. Almost. Because in the end, he was still a part of this world, and as such, he deserved what was coming to him.

You roll onto your side, staring at the wall. The moon casts a pale glow through your window, bathing the room in a cold, silvery light. You can't help but feel a sense of detachment from the world around you. It's as if you're just a spectator, watching events unfold from a safe distance, never truly involved. But you know that's not true. You are intimately connected to the lives you take, no matter how much you try to deny it.

The bed creaks as you shift once more, this time onto your back. Your gaze drifts up to the ceiling, lost in thought. You wonder if there is anyone in this world who could ever understand what it's like to be you. To live with the weight of all those deaths on your conscience. You doubt it. Most people would probably see you as a monster, a cold-blooded killer. And maybe they'd be right. But you tell yourself that it's necessary, that you're just a cog in a machine, doing what needs to be done. It's not like you do a job or something like that, you do this for yourself, and all the other good people who need to be safe from monsters like Sam and Jim and all the others.

You close your eyes, trying to push away the thoughts that are crowding your mind. Maybe if you just close your eyes and try to relax, sleep will come easier. But even as your eyelids grow heavy, your mind remains restless. It's as if your subconscious knows that there is no escape, no respite from the cycle. You are bound to this life, and there is no denying it.

The sheets twist around you, and you shift uncomfortably in bed. You can't help but wonder how many more nights like this you'll have to endure. It feels like the weight of the world is on your shoulders, and with each passing day, it grows heavier.

You close your eyes, trying to focus on something, anything else. Your mind drifts back to your childhood, to the days when you were still innocent. When the world was a brighter place, and the only monsters that existed were in fairy tales. You wish you could go back to those times, to the time before you took on this burden.

But you can't. And even if you could, you wouldn't want to. Because you know that the world is not a safe place. There are monsters out there, and someone has to protect the innocent. You've seen the evidence with your own eyes, heard the testimonies, seen the crime scenes. You can't unsee any of it.

As you toss and turn in bed, you find yourself thinking about the first time you took a life. It was a man named Jack, your old neighbor from when you lived with your parents, he was a disgusting creep, and worst of all, his 2 daughters were the ones to suffer from it.

The police had been called a dozen times, but there was never enough evidence. Your parents had tried to help, but they were powerless against the man's influence. And then, one night, you found them. The two girls, huddled together on the front porch, tears streaming down their faces, their tiny bodies bruised and broken. You could see the fear in their eyes, the desperation. And in that moment, you knew you had to do something.

Your father and Jack had one thing in common, they both enjoyed hunting for deer in the woods near your small hometown, you waited until the next hunting season to make your move. It was a beautiful Saturday morning, Jack was already loading his gear in his truck, ready to leave, and you did the same, sneaking into the garage and snatching your father's rifle and throwing it in your old car, you gave your parents some bullshit excuse about meeting with some friends, and after him you went, keeping your distance of course.

You shot him dead in the same woods he liked to hunt, now with him being the prey, honestly you have no idea how you got away with it.

The police never suspected a thing, and the two girls were finally safe. But you knew that the weight you carried on your shoulders would never truly go away. You couldn't help but wonder if they ever knew what you had done. Maybe they suspected, but they never said anything. And so, you continued. Because you had to. Because the world was a dangerous place, and someone had to protect the innocent.

Years passed, and you honed your skills. You became efficient, calculating. You learned how to blend in, how to avoid detection. You took down more monsters than you could count. But with each passing kill, the guilt grew heavier. It became a constant companion, a shadow that followed you everywhere.

As the weeks went by, you finally had enough info on Sam, this night, he has plans to exchange some money for drugs, and fortunately the exchange is gonna be made in near the outskirts of the city, in a forest that's rarely visited by people on daytime, let alone at night.

You arrive at the meeting spot, your heart pounding in your chest as you keep a low profile, hiding in the shadows, watching and waiting. The time passes slowly, and you begin to think that you are in the wrong place. But then, you see him. He emerges from the darkness, a satchel slung over his shoulder. His accomplices, two men just as vile as he is, trail behind him. You steel yourself, taking a deep breath as they approach the rendezvous point. This isn't good, he was supposed to be alone, how the fuck are you gonna take on 3 grown ass men by yourself, you have the advantage of the first shot, but that still lives 2, possibly armed, men to take care of, and if you pull the trigger first it would be a dead giveaway of your location. Fuck this bullshit, you'll wait for them to leave, then get the hell home, you'll have another chance.

You wait between the bushes, minutes later you see other 3 people arrived at the meeting spot, one of them, the tallest one, has a bald head full of tattoos,most definitely the boss of the ones with the drugs. They nod their heads at each other, you listen close on their conversation.

"You got the money?" One of them whispers.

"Yeah, here it is." Sam replies as he hand them over.

The bald one turns to the man on his right, and with a nod of his head tells him to count the money.

" It's all there man, we ain't got time for that shit" Sam says a little bit rushed.

"Shut up and step back" the bald one says coldly. The man next to him carefully counts the money and then shakes his head.

" You short on 500 cash "

Sam's face turns pale. "I-I must've made a mistake."

" You think you can cheap out on my shit fool?" The boss says, clearly angry as he pulls out a gun aimed at Sam's head.

Before you know it, him and his friends do the same, point guns at the other ones.

Things happened so fast, you hear yelling, shots being fired, and an aching pain in your chest. You've been hit by a stray bullet.

You fall to the ground, clutching your wound, blood pouring from it. The world around you spins, and you feel like you're floating. You can hear shouting and more gunfire, but it's all becoming distant. Your vision begins to fade, and you feel yourself slipping away.

#alastor x reader #hazbin alastor x reader #x reader #slow burn #mature theme #hazbin hotel

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comfort-writing · 1 year

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Crayons and Cassettes

Chapter 10: Music to My Ears (pt. 2)

You are a kindergarten teacher. Eddie’s daughter, Sage, is in your class. Waking up to Eddie is pure bliss.

warnings: making out, fingering, handjobs, morning sex, creampies. 18+ - minors DNI!! no use of y/n. (please let me know if I missed anything)

a/n: I think I have a few more chapters plotted out and I’m feeling a lot better about it. sorry for the super late upload of this chapter. let me know in the comments or my asks if you want to be added to the tag list! requests are open!

word count: 3.4k

Chapter 1 || 2 || 3 || 4 || 5 || 6 || 7 || 8 || 9 || 10 || 11 || 12 || 13 || 14 (coming soon!)

Once the concert was over, you could feel your heartbeat in your ears and you body still vibrated from both the adrenaline coursing through your veins and the loud drums and bass line from the last song. Eddie looked down at you, his hair still in a ponytail but it had become a bit frizzy from dancing around, and beamed. He was so proud that he could take you places like this and you would actually have fun.

He led you out of the venue, holding your hand so you didn’t get lost in the sea of people. Once the two of you got back in the van, the quiet consumed you for a moment, coming down from the high of the concert.

Eddie laid his head back against his headrest and sighed, “You have fun?” He asked quietly, looking your way.

You nodded, “Mmhmm.”

“Good.” He whispered, taking another beat before cranking the ignition.

It was nearing ten o’clock, so he needed to start the drive home if the two of you wanted to be home at any sort of reasonable hour. You closed your eyes as you felt the car pull out of its parking space and onto the road. You were exhausted, but you didn’t want to sleep so Eddie wouldn’t have to sit in silence for two hours.

“Thank you for bringing me along. I think I might be a super fan now.”

“Of course. I bought the tickets for you, you know.” He hummed, “And seeing bands live is always better than just listening to them on the radio.”

“Yeah, I think I can officially agree with that now.” You smiled, opening your eyes and looking at him.

He paused for a moment, then raised an eyebrow, “Was that your first concert?” He asked, a bit shocked.

“First one like that. I mean, I’d been to like, classical concerts and piano recitals of course, and a couple small, basement shows in high school, but that was my first big concert.”

“Really? I thought you would’ve been a total ticket junkie by how much you love music.” He chuckled.

“Nope. Not before, at least. But I think you may have started a new addiction, so thanks for that.”

Eddie laughed quietly, and a comfortable silence fell over the two of you as the stereo of the car pumped out more of the band’s music at a low volume.

The rest of the drive was spent quietly talking about all the cool things about the show and how you’d have to keep an eye out for new shows in the future. It was hard for you not to fall asleep, but you managed to stay awake.

Eddie pulled the van into your driveway, shifting it into park.

“Wanna come in?” You asked, grabbing your purse from his floor.

“Sure.” He smiled. He’d paid the babysitter for the whole night, so he wasn’t against the idea.

You led him into your house and picked up Pencil, who’d run to you as soon as she heard the door unlock, walking in. You kicked off your shoes by the door, your feet aching as you’d felt a blister slowly start to form over the hours. Eddie did the same, not wanting to track dirt or whatever godforsaken crap had gotten on them at the venue into your home.

You walked to your bedroom and flipped onto your bed, Pencil still in your arms. “I’m so tired.” You groaned, closing your eyes as you sunk into your mattress. You heard Eddie chuckle as you felt him sit next to you, reaching a hand over and scratching Pencil’s chin as she lifted her head.

“Me too. I had fun, though.”

“Same here.” You said, looking over at him. He was focused on Pencil, smiling softly as she purred. “You wanna spend the night?” You asked.

He is gaze fell on you, “I really need to shower.”

“Believe it or not, this house is equipped with a nice shower. And it’s got plenty of hot water, thanks to you.” You giggled.

“If you’re okay with it, then yeah, I’d love to.”

You nodded, happy to have him there. “You go shower first. I can make us a little late dinner.” He said, kissing your head softly as he got up to go to your kitchen.

You pushed Pencil off of your chest gently and got up, trudging to your bathroom. You cranked on the hot water, stripping off your clothes and stepping in once it was hot enough. You rinsed all the sweat off and quickly lathered and rinsed, not wanting to take too long. You finished up and toweled off, wrapping one around your hair and getting in your favorite pajamas, which was an oversized shirt and underwear.

You padded your way to the kitchen, seeing Eddie boiling some pasta on the stove. You walked up behind him and hugged him from behind, smelling like soap and the perfume he loved. He placed his hands over yours. The whole thing felt so domestic. You kissed his shoulder blade and rested your towel covered head there, sighing softly. He turned the stove off, and you moved away to sit on the island of the kitchen as you watched him drain the pasta. He’d also warmed up a jar of alfredo sauce, and you smiled, “This is my favorite comfort meal, you know.”

“I remembered you mentioning it once.” He hummed, placing the pot of now drained noddles on the stove. He dished out two bowls and handed you one before searching the drawers for utensils. You pointed to the right one and he opened it, grabbing two forks. He stood facing you, leaning on the counter you sat on as the two of you ate in silence. You’d mumbled a thank you, to which he nodded.

Once he finished, he rinsed his bowl and placed it in the dishwasher, then grabbed the now empty pots off of the stove and stood over the sink to wash them. You ate the last bite of your food and hopped down from the counter before walking up behind him and placing your hand on his back.

“You go shower. I’ll take care of this.” You said, tapping him out. He nodded, leaning down and kissing you gently before heading off to your bedroom. You’d left out a fresh towel and another one of your oversized shirts for him to wear, as well as a pair of pajama pants you’d been given that were entirely too large on you, but you’d accepted anyways because they were a gift.

You rinsed your own bowl and fork, sticking them in the dishwasher before scrubbing the pots down and dried them off with a dish towel before placing them back in a cabinet.

You walked back to your bedroom and knocked on the bathroom door, sticking your head in, “Can I come in? I need to brush my teeth.” You called over the noise of the shower.

“Yeah, of course.” He called back.

You entered the bathroom and unraveled the towel from your hair and brushed it out before grabbing your toothbrush. You brushed your teeth as you listened to Eddie him quietly to himself in the shower. You spit out the toothpaste and wipes the corner of your before walking over to the shower.

You peeled back the curtain just enough to stick your head in, facing him as he washed his face. “Hey.” You smiled.

He chuckled and looked back at you, “Hey.”

“Kiss me.” You said, closing your eyes and puckering your lips expectantly.

“You’re gonna get all wet.” He laughed, rinsing your soap off of his face.

“I don’t care. Kiss me.” You said, resuming your pose.

He giggled and leaned down, placing a sweet kiss to your lips, his hair rewetting your own a little.

You smiled once he pulled away, “Thanks.” You said, pulling your head out of the curtain and shutting it again before walking back into your bedroom, closing the bathroom door behind you.

You turned on your bedside lamp before turning off the overhead light and crawled under your covers, sitting against the headboard so you would be awake when Eddie got out of the shower.

Your attempts didn’t work though, as you slowly drifted to sleep sitting up. Once Eddie finished his shower, he got dressed and scrubbed his hair off with his towel. He walked out of the bathroom, seeing you and chuckling, walking to the other side of the bed. He crawled up and shook your shoulder gently.

“Hey,” he whispered, “let’s go to bed.”

His voice roused you enough for you to nod and lay down, cuddling up close to him as he laid next to you. He wrapped his arm around your side as the two of you quickly fell asleep, holding each other close.

The next morning, you awoke with Eddie’s arm around you, holding your back to his chest. You were a little confused when you first woke up, but after a second, the memories flooded back and you smiled, pulling his arm tighter around you as you snuggled into him. You traced the tattoo on his forearm while you listened to his slow breathing, letting yourself soak in the moment.

After a little while, you slowly peeled yourself from his arms and slipped out of bed, managing not to wake him. You walked to the kitchen and started your coffee pot, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes as you waited for it to brew. You grabbed two mugs, filling your own with cream and sugar, and leaving his empty, knowing he liked his coffee black. The coffee pot clicked, signifying it was done, so you quickly poured out to cups and walked carefully back to your bed. You set them down on your bedside table before crawling back into bed, sitting up and rubbing Eddie’s back.

He slowly woke up, stretching like a cat before looking up at you and smiling, “G’mornin.” He grumbled, his voice all raspy and deep from sleep.

You smiled, reaching over for his mug. “Good morning.” You whispered, seeing him spot the mug. His eyes widened slightly and he sat up, leaning against your headboard as he slowly took the mug from your hands.

“You’re an angel.” He smiled sleepily, leaning over to kiss your lips sweetly before sitting back to take a sip of the hot coffee.

You smiled and grabbed your own, taking a sip and humming. The two of you drank your coffee in silence, leaning against each other and waking up slowly as the soft morning sunlight poured into your window.

Once you’d finished half of your mug, you spoke. “How’d you sleep?”

“Like a rock. That’s probably the best sleep I’ve had since I stopped smoking weed.” He whispered.

You chuckled, “Me too. Well, I didn’t smoke, but I slept really well.”

“Good.” He hummed, reaching over and setting his mug down. You did the same, then he pulled you close, kissing the top of your head as he rubbed your arm.

You leaned into his touch, loving the quiet the morning provided. The two of you stayed snuggled up together for a while, letting the minutes tick past. Eventually, he turned reached up and took your chin in his hand, pulling it towards his face and kissing you gently once again. You pulled away after a second, covering your mouth with your hand, “I have coffee breath.” You whispered, almost getting up to brush your teeth before he grabbed your waist, keeping you in place.

“I do too. Kiss me anyways.” He smiled.

That was all the convincing it took for you to lean back and kiss him again, soft and sweet and sleepy. He kept his hand on your waist, using his thumb to rub comforting circles on your skin.

It all felt so familiar, like you’d been doing this for years, when in reality, this was the first time you’d woken up next to him. You could definitely get used to this.

He eventually broke the kiss and motioned for you to lay down. You did so, and he crawled over you, pulling the covers over his back. He smiled and bent down to kiss you again, at a better angle this time. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders as he deepened the kiss, humming softly when he licked your bottom lip.

Instead of everything feeling so heated and quick like last night, Eddie took his time, kissing you slowly and letting his hands explode every inch of you. It felt comforting and intimate. You let your hands wander too, touching his arms, his chest, his neck, his hair that was messy from sleep.

He moved his kisses down to your neck and you smiled softly, pulling him closer to you. He smelled like coffee and your lavender shampoo with a hint of something distinctly Eddie. He loved the way your hands lazily splayed across his chest as he kissed a spot that made goosebumps crawl across your arms.

His hands slowly slid under your shirt, running up your sides, memorizing every detail. He had all the time in the world to do so, and he planned on utilizing each moment. He slowly slid your shirt up and over your head, taking care to kiss every piece of your skin he could once he had access to it.

You tugged at his shirt and he sat up and peeled it off, tossing it on the floor. He bent to kiss you again but you stopped him, holding your arms out so he would sit up. You raked your eyes over his body, getting a good look at his tattoos finally, running your hand over the one on his chest. He smirked softly as he watched your eyes study them, letting you have your little moment.

You eventually made eye contact, and he took that as your signal to come back and kiss you once again. You wrapped one of your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, and you felt his hand grab your thigh, gripping the soft flesh gently. You’d also felt him, hard and pressing against your panties. You moaned quietly into mouth as he slowly ground against you, enjoying the friction.

You tugged at his pants, and he stayed connected to your lips as he tugged them down and kicked them off. Once he’d gotten them out of the way, you reached a down between the two of you and took him into your hand. You slowly stroked his cock, humming against his lips as you realized how big he was. He took one of your breasts into his hand, gently massaging it as he groaned against your lips, keening into your hand.

After a minute, he broke your kiss and looked down at you, his breathing a little ragged. “Do you want..” he whispered, grasping at straws to find the words in his cloudy brain.

“Yeah.. yes, Eddie.” You whispered back, knowing what he was trying to ask.

He nodded and leaned down, kissing your neck and slowly tugging your underwear off, being careful not to pull too hard and ruin another pair. You lifted your legs for him, helping him get the fabric off of your body. He tossed it somewhere in your room and you spread your legs as his right hand slowly moved from your inner thigh to your cunt, his thumb sliding up and making slow circles on your clit. You moaned softly, your hand moving from his dick to his back, enjoying the feeling of his mouth and his fingers and how his hair felt on your chest. It was all-consuming, but not overwhelming. Gentle, slow, perfect.

You were already wet, but he still took his time with his fingers, slowly pushing them into you and curling them upward, massaging your g-spot as he listened to your quiet moans. He left a small hickey on the underside of your breast after he’d rolled his tongue around your nipple.

“Eddie, please.” You whined softly, gently tangling your fingers in his hair, causing him to look into your eyes, “I need you.” You practically begged.

He moved up and kissed you gently, grinding against you again, this time without any fabric separating you. You whined against his lips, so he lined himself up and broke the kiss, looking into your eyes. You stared back at his blown pupils. “You sure, baby?” He asked one last time.

“Yes.. please, Eds.” You whispered, your breath ghosting his lips.

He kissed your temple before pushing into you. He went extremely slow, letting you adjust. Your hands tightened on his scalp, holding his face close to your own as you let out small, breathy moans until he was buried to hilt. He didn’t move, waiting until you gave him the go ahead.

After a minute or so, you nodded and he began to push in and out of you, kissing every inch of you that was with his reach, one arm holding himself up and the other supporting one of the thighs you’d wrapped around him.

He never made an attempt to speed up, instead, going at an agonizing pace but making sure to push into you as deep as possible with each thrust. One of your hands stayed in his hair, while the other held into his shoulder to brace yourself as your back arched.

The hand on your thigh eventually moved between the two of you, two of his fingers rubbing your clit, making him moan into your ear when he felt you clench around him.

You felt a knot in your stomach slowly tighten as your breath picked up and your moans progressively became more frequent. You were spilling praises, telling him how good he felt and how close you were.

He kissed up your neck, his breath hot against your already burning skin, “Say my name.” He instructed.

You moaned at that, “God.. Eddie.. you’re- yes keep going.”

He kept his rhythm, feeling you get tighter as you got closer to your climax. “Come on baby,” he breathed in your ear, “cum for me.”

After a few more thrusts, you were arching your back and moaning his name as he rutted into you. “Fuck.” He groaned, close himself.

Once you’d regained yourself a little, you wrapped your legs tighter around him, “I’m on the pill, Eddie.” You whispered, “Please.. I need to feel it.”

That was all it took for him to groan and fill you up, his hips snapping into you a couple times as he finished. Once he’d come down from the high, he slowly pulled out of you, apologizing when he saw you wince slightly.

He flopped down on the bed next to you, causing you to giggle breathlessly. You turned on your side and rubbed his back gently. He smiled and pulled you close, cuddling up with you and peppering kisses on your face, loving the sound of your quiet laughter.

The two of you stayed like that for another hour, whispering and giggling, your hands gently tracing shapes on the arm that held you so close. He kissed you every chance he got, smiling against your lips.

Eventually he sighed, “I should probably relieve the babysitter of her duties soon.”

You nodded, understanding, and sat up, grabbing your now cold coffee off of your night stand and taking a sip, tugging your covers up to keep yourself warm. He got out of bed and got dressed in the clothes he’d worn last night, aware of your eyes on him as he did so. He pulled his jeans up and stuck his hip out to the side, posing and making you laugh. Once he was fully dressed, he walked over to you and kissed you again.

“I’ll call you tonight?” He asked.

“Of course.” You smiled, pecking him one last time before you watched him leave your room. You heard the front door close and you hummed, finishing up your coffee in the quiet hours of the morning.

tag list: @mcueveryday @bebe0701 @emma77645 @edsforehead @manda-panda-monium @nina211544 @wendyfawcett @whisperinthewoods07

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things #dad!eddie munson #dad!eddie munson x reader #singledad!eddie munson #singledad!eddie munson x reader #slow burn #strangers to friends to lovers #em #teacher!reader #eddie x reader #fanfic #smut #hehehe

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little-tyrant-gortash · 3 months

Text

Oathbreaker

Pairing: fem!Tav x Enver Gortash, fem!Tav/Astarion

Tags: Emotional Manipulation, Manipulation, Manipulative Relationship, Paladin Tav (Baldur's Gate), Vaginal Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Drunk Sex, Unrequited Love, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Scars, Blood and Injury, Injury, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Pregnancy, Unplanned Pregnancy, Miscarriage, Torture, Psychological Torture, Implied/Referenced Torture

Word count: 2,204

Ao3 here.

Chapter 1.

Chapter 2.

Chapter 3.

Chapter 4.

Chapter 5.

Chapter 6.

Chapter 7.

Chapter 8.

Chapter 9.

Chapter 10.

Chapter 11.

Chapter 12.

Chapter 13.

Chapter 14.

Chapter 15.

Chapter 16.

Chapter 17.

Chapter 18.

Chapter 19.

Chapter 20.

Chapter 21.

Chapter 22.

Chapter 23.

Chapter 24.

Chapter 25.

Chapter 26.

Chapter 27. ⬇

Chapter 28.

Chapter 27: The Dark Urge

After lighting some candles, she sat back on the bed again, exhausted and hungry, once again. Enver stopped beside the bed, then reached for the backpack he placed just beside it.

"After you've left, I started to research the subject", he rummaged through the bag, and Tav frowned.

"How did you know?"

"Well, after you've said yourself that your cycles returned to normal, I immediately thought that that couldn't be. Thinking about all the evenings you've spent with me, then, your midnight craving, the way you avoided wine… thinking back on all of these, it was clear as day. I was just surprised you didn't notice."

Tav blushed beet red and looked away.

"I guess I was distracted."

"By what?" Enver mumbled with a frown.

"By the gods Enver, what do you think?" She huffed, running a hand in her hair. "It's all your fault."

"So you're blaming all of this on me?" He chuckled, finally lifting a smaller bag from his backpack.

"Definitely. After all, you made this possible", she motioned at her lower stomach.

"I'll gladly take all the blame", he chuckled, sitting next to her with the bag in his hands. "You wanted to have a child, and I could give it to you. I feel like that finally, I could do something right."

Tav frowned slightly at his choice of words. She tilted her head a little, then brought her hand up to touch his back to rub it. He felt… relaxed. Calm.

"While the timing could've been better… thank you", she said then, then shook her head with a smile when her stomach rumbled. "I just wish that I could keep something down. Anything."

"That's why I brought these", Gortash opened the bag and showed it's contents to her. To her surprise, it was full of cookies. "These have ginger and lemon in them, both should help with nausea."

"Did you make them?" She asked as she got a cookie out of the bag.

"No", he laughed lightly, "I'm afraid that this exceeds my expertise in the kitchen."

"Do you have any idea how many times I've been thinking of those steaks you've made for me in the past few days?" She sighed as she slowly munched on the cookie.

Gortash chuckled again, shaking his head as he wrapped an arm around her, pulling her closer to himself to kiss her temple.

"Move in with me", he murmured, "ever since I've known… I kept thinking about how dangerous it is for you out there."

Tav weighed her options. She could still meet her friends and try and plot everything with them during the day; it'd also be nicer to sleep in a bed. Lately, her back was slowly killing her whenever she slept in her bedroll. And she was almost constantly exhausted. Coupled with the small portions of food, bad quality rest and everything in between… it'd be definitely a positive change if she slept in a proper bed, and more importantly, with him around to help her if she needed it.

"Alright", she bit from the cookie again. It really helped with her rebelling belly. "I'll just go back to camp to gather my stuff, alright?"

"I'll need to be back at Wyrm's Rock Fortress tomorrow morning."

"Well, I could go to camp right now", she shrugged, "it's not that late. We can meet back here and go there together."

"Do you think I'd allow you to go back to your camp alone?" He raised a brow.

"No need to be so protective, Your Grace", she finished the cookie and booped his nose with a giggle, which made him furrow his brows even more. "I'll be fine. It's just a ten minutes walk away. It's not even dark yet."

Gortash contemplated arguing, but then, he decided not to. Her tempers could rise so much easily than a few weeks ago, and while he wanted to have things his way, he decided not to upset her again. Yet, anyway.

"Fine. But hurry back."

"Of course I'll hurry back", Tav promised, kissing his cheek before she got up and left the room.

Hurrying down the stairs and out of Sharess' Caress, she made her way straight back to the camp with a smile permanently stuck to her face. For once, her future looked much brighter than she thought it ever would; apart from a few nuances, all was well, and would be well, too.

But as Gortash warned her at their first meeting, there were people who were following her. Not just allies kept their eyes on her, but also those who wanted to turn inside out.

At the first corner where she had to turn right, just before she could reach her camp, she was abruptly stopped by a huge figure. She had to tilt her head back to look at the stranger's face. Even though he was wearing a hood, she could see that he was a dragonborn; his scales pale white, his eyes a burning crimson.

Rage. He looked like he was full of rage.

Tav took half a step back, but his right hand shot up and grabbed her arm. She struggled against him and opened her mouth to scream for help when he moved a piece of cloth against her nose and mouth with his free hand. The edges of her vision blurred and darkened until everything was consumed by the nothingness.

Pacing up and down, he counted the minutes. The room grew darker and darker still, and once again, darkness brought no comfort, no confidence.

Just agitation.

Something was wrong. He could feel it.

Casting the shape shifting spell, he donned the appearance of the redhed elf again, then fled the brothel, making a beeline for her camp. He'd made it in such a little time that his nervousness only grew.

"Who are you?" Gale arched a brow, looking him over suspiciously.

Gortash didn't want to waste time on an explanation. He broke his concentration, revealing himself, allowing Gale no time to react before he snapped:

"Did she make it back to camp?" Gale blinked, then dread visibly overwritten anything else he had on his face. Gortash grew impatient fast. "Did she make it back to camp?!" He shouted at the wizard.

"N-no. No, she didn't."

Gortash spun on his heels and went back to the alley where he came from, looking for clues. Gale followed him, Karlach and Shadowheart in tow.

"What happened?" Karlach asked, and Gale answered:

"Apparently, Tav should've made it back to camp", he furrowed his brows as he looked after Gortash.

"What?" Shadowheart whispered. "I thought she was with you, Gortash."

"She was", he confirmed in an almost detached tone. "She insisted coming back here to pick up her things. We planned going back to Wyrm's Rock Fortress together."

"Why didn't you come with her?" Shadowheart snapped.

Gale glanced at the Cleric. It was unlikely she'd snap in a way like this at anyone, especially at the tyrant who gave them many reasons to be wary of. But Gortash wasn't focusing on her tone.

"I trusted her to come back to our meeting point without a problem. She's strong and resourceful, I did not expect her to get into trouble. Especially because the camp is just a few minutes away."

"In her state, you should've came with her", Shadowheart snapped again, even angrier, this time.

"Her state?" Karlach echoed. "What does that mean? What state?"

Neither Shadowheart nor Gortash answered. Gale said nothing, but the way his expression shifted with confusion, realisation and then finally, sorrow and heartbreak, spoke volumes that he suspected the truth. Karlach, though, remained looking puzzled. Nobody answered her question, though.

In the meantime, Gortash found some clues. It appeared that a heavy person had been dragging someone much lighter there recently, straight to a manhole, leading down to the sewers. He cursed under his breath. He hadn't had much with him right now, but he wouldn't waste time going back to his home for weapons. He had to make do with what he had with himself: his spells, his dagger, and his ability to call upon Bane's Black Hand, should he need it.

Seeing that he wasted absolutely no time to go down, the other three exchanged confused glances.

"Wait, what's the plan?" Karlach asked Gortash then.

"We go down, find her captors, tear them to pieces and bring her out", Gortash grunted as he removed the lid.

"I like the sound of that, actually", Karlach smirked. "Especially the "tear them to pieces" part."

Gortash almost smiled. Almost.

"We'll split on the way so we cover more area. You can use your tadpoles to communicate from a distance with each other, I'll go alone and rely on myself, as always." He straightened up and glanced at the other three with a look that could strike terror into the heart of the fiercest warrior. "We're not leaving the sewers until we find her, understood?"

All of them looked surprised at how fast Gortash could whip out a plan they all agreed with.

"Understood", Shadowheart said on their behalf, and couldn't resist adding, "this sounds like a good plan."

"A good plan indeed." A silky voice broke the sudden silence. Astarion approached them, revealing himself from the shadows, dressed in a different set of clothes – which made Shadowheart snort. "Who are we searching for?"

"You just go back to your palace, Ascendant", Shadowheart teased him, "unless you want to change those clothes again."

"Why, if Tav is in danger, I'm nothing if not helpful." His voice was still calm and quiet, but his eyes burned with crimson fires. "Do we know who took her?"

"Since I have plenty of enemies", Gortash growled, "we'll see."

"It's dangerous to be your ally, is it not?" Astarion whispered, his eyes trained on the tyrant who made no move and gave no clue how the vampire's words made him feel. "One wonders if it's even wise to even talk to you, let alone-"

"Do you want to help us find her then, or not?!" Shadowheart snapped again. "Every minute counts! Shut up, make yourself useful for once and try to find her!"

And with that, she brushed Gortash out of the way and started to climb the ladder down without hesitation. Gale and Karlach followed without saying a word, leaving the tyrant and the Ascendant behind.

Gortash stared at the pale elf with as much malice as he could muster.

"What are you waiting for?" Astarion's smile looked dangerous. "Go on."

"I'm not turning my back on you", Gortash growled.

"Haha!" Astarion gave a little laugh, "you think you're very clever, aren't you?" He glanced up at the stars before he looked back at Gortash, his crimson eyes burning with hatred. "Let's play a game. If you find her first, she's all yours. But if I do, she's mine."

Gortash's brows twitched for a split second.

"This isn't a game, and she's not some prize to be won."

"Oh, please, spare me your fake rigtheous bullshit", Astarion waved him off as if he was fly. "You are a tyrant. If anyone believes she has a free will of choosing who will she spend her days with, they're not just gravely mistaken but also horribly stupid. With you, she doesn't have a choice."

"Why, does she have a choice with you?" Gortash snapped, his voice dangerously quiet.

"No", Astarion's lips twitched, then curled up into a small smile. "But she could never resist me. By now, you must've learned what I am."

"A vampire."

"Not just a regular vampire", Astarion tutted, "the Vampire Ascendant."

"Shiny title for someone who visibly has nothing else to his name." Gortash shifted closer to Astarion, clearly stepping into his personal space. The pale elf said nothing, he did not move, but his eyes flashed dangerously once more. "The only reason you're able to parade around in my city like a reanimated corpse is because you're useful to me. Every little act of yours makes her turn to me for protection even more than ever. But I'm growing tired of your empty threats. Cross my path the wrong way and you'll see that even a Vampire Ascendant can suffer and die."

"You are but words", Astarion whispered.

"Test my patience", Gortash challenged, his voice a low growl, "I dare you. It's wearing very thin, with every word you utter."

"Then let's get back to business", Astarion's brows lowered even more, and he snarled. "If I find her first, she'll be mine, and she'll become my spawn. She'll have no choice but to obey my every whim. We'll see how you'll like it when she gives me a lapdance at your next ball, Archduke."

The thought of Astarion changing her surely would mean that Tav would lose their unborn child. Gortash would not let that happen under any circumstances. He'd defend his own blood at any and all costs. It seemed that the very air around him darkened.

"If you touch a single strand of hair on her head, I will end you as painfully as possible."

"We'll see", Astarion purred, then shifted into his bat form and disappeared into the sewers.

Gortash cursed and followed him.

#Oathbreaker #little tyrant [enver gortash]#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg 3 #enver gortash #archduke enver gortash #lord enver gortash #fanfic #Oathbreaker fanfic

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