#update: i DID read it over and do a few edits last night

[take-everything-you-can]

What makes a man

A/N : This is the second piece into the angiverse or my dad Eddie series of blurbs. A series of Fathers Days throughout Eddies life. One Where his father wasn't so kind, another when he surprised Wayne, and one more where you surprise him. I hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it.

P.s Photo in header are all from google straight up not gonna lie to yall have no idea who edited the Eddie and Wayne photo but its phenomenal.

P.p.s update : the photo of Eddie and Wayne was created by user @fefemunson on Pinterest and insta 💕💕🖤

Dividers by @cafekitsune

18+ MINORS DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem reader

WC: 4K

TW: Angst ( Al - need I say more...) Fluff ( Wayne's gift, doting husband, baby girl Munson) Smut ( Breeding kink, F receiving, fingering, unprotected PIV, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, accidental edging, squirting) If y'all see anything I missed please let me know. Not really edited all that much.

Sweat rolled down the side of Eddie's face as he sat crouched behind a car in the packed lot of a junkyard, a few towns over from Hawkins. The sun had set but the heat waves, in the middle of June 1975,  had become almost stifling as he kept an eye on his surroundings. Al had promised that if Eddie just kept watch this one last time, while he took care of some business, then he could get him the guitar strings he had his eye on.

It had only been two seconds, two seconds Eddie let himself get distracted as he watched the fireflies light up the darkening sky in swirling patterns. Two seconds and Eddie had missed how a tall figure made its way over to the door in which he watched his father disappear behind. Two seconds and he was too late to let out his crow call to let Al know there was someone coming. 

“Run.” A gunshot and a flash of his father was all Eddie heard and saw before his limbs were weaving in and out of old abandoned things that people no longer needed. Things that people no longer wanted. Losing traction as the rain from the night before made the clay and mud beneath his feet slide. He had caught up to Al, Eddie had never been an athlete but when it came to running for his life, he had more practice then one should at his age.

“Stupid, How could you be so fucking Stupid?” Al was catching his breath as he slowed, pretty sure that the men he was stealing from had given up at least for now. “I mean I ask you to do one thing and you can't even do that right.” Eddie walks beside his father and he’s heard the spiel time and time again. “If you think I’m getting you those guitar strings after this, You can forget it.”  Eddie knew he was never getting those strings, and if he was being honest with himself he knew this was the only time he was going to get with his father. That's all he ever wanted , to feel like he was needed and if that meant he would have to sit through some words that hurt, then that's exactly what he would do. 

He thought to two days ago. Hawkins Elementary had fathers day arts and crafts sweep through the halls and through classrooms as the day approached within the upcoming weekend. He decided that he was going to draw what he knew best. Eddie had drawn a dragon, large and fierce , one only a brave man could face. Sword in hand and threatening he had drawn his father slaying the dragon that plagued the princess’s  nightmares around the realm. He was so excited to present it to his father but as he sat and heard the words his father was saying the longer the picture sat in his backpack until it littered the bottom of it at the end of the year. 

Eddie would never give the picture to Al, in fact he would grow to forget about it. 

It took only a few months as the fall leaves began to change colors and fall to the ground, Al would find himself behind bars. Life without parole for numerous crimes that would leave Eddie with nothing but his mother and His uncle. It would be a very very long time before He would even hear the sound of his voice again. 

June 1985 had become as hot as Eddie thought it possibly could within the trailer. Wayne was currently out shopping for two new units, one for the living room and one for Eddie. As the men of the house could no longer stand having their hair drip sweat in their eyes and slick down the back of their knees. So they counted couch change and broke open piggy banks for the luxury of air flow. 

Eddie had found himself trying to pry the window that had been painted shut open in his room. A small one across from where his bed sat, and it took all of his strength and an hour of his time, but he had finally been able to crack it. Sweet relief had started to settle around him as a breeze picked up and his curtains swayed in as he took a look around his room. Clothes scattered and books in a pile, a few cups on his desk and sheets of paper askew, Eddie decided to start cleaning his room.

 A half clean floor surprised Wayne as he looks in on Eddie as he arrives home with the new units. Almost not wanting to say anything at all to stop Eddie in his task, but he curses himself as the words leave his mouth. 

“Come help me unload this truck boy.”  Eddie slips on a pair or worn out sneaker and trudges through the inferno only to be met with a realization. It was colder outside then it was in the trailer and he stood on the shared porch in disbelief. 

“How is it cooler out here than inside?” 

“Not for long If i can help it, Now come one and give me a hand before I melt out here.” 

Eddie helps Wayne take both units into the house and he holds them up as Wayne takes his time to install them, making sure that he eases the process as much as he can for his uncle.

 Eddie Holds his breath as Wayne plugs in the unit in his bedroom and the second the small little green light pops on and revs the A/C Unit to life, That breath leaves his lungs in a huffed out laugh as he jumps up and down in joy. A laugh from Wayne as he pats Eddie's shoulder as he leaves the room. “Glad you like it. I’m hitting the hay so keep it down here okay?” Eddie nods his head towards his uncle as he lifts his shirt up over his head and just basks in the cool air hitting his skin for what feels like the first time ever. 

Eddie opens his closet to hang a few stray long sleeve shirts he had  found scattered across the floor. Giving each the smell test before grabbing hangers. Who needs a long sleeve tee in this heat anyway, he thinks to himself. He stops and bends to find an old shoebox that had fallen from the top shelf and somehow landed upside down. Small trinkets from his past had toppled out and onto the floor, a few movie stubs, from trips to the cinema across town. His first DND Handbook , a small pick-me-up Wayne had brought home from a thrift store for him one day after finding out he had the flu.

 Then a small folded up piece of paper caught his eye. A Knight in shining armor depicted as slaying a dragon, one with a tail that could take out entire cities and claws like daggers. A sword through its skull as he shields himself from the bloodshed,but the face of the knight confused him. He remembered drawing the picture for his father , his rounded features and brudish stance, but the more he looked in on the knight he realized the picture he had drawn was not rounded but more sharp. The knight was more gentle as if it hurt to even have to slay the dragon but for his princess he would do anything. He had drawn Wayne, not his father. 

The picture would continue to lay in the box , and Eddie would put the box back in its rightful place on a shelf in his closet , but Eddie would always know that Wayne would slay his dragon. In fact he realized Wayne had been slaying them for years all in the sake of his protection. This brought a smile to his face as he left his room and made himself some dinner, making Wayne a plate to leave in the fridge so he would have something to eat before having to go to work. Tomorrow he wouldn't wait for the phone call from his father that would never come, instead he would spend it with his dad, a man who took him in and loved him for all that he was. 

An Early Morning of June 1988, Eddie paced by the phone for what seemed like hours. He started off his day by sitting , but the nervous bile that would rise in his throat had him up and down. His mind was set on hearing disappointment but you reassured him he would hear nothing of the sort. Finding himself sitting, knee bouncing as if it had a live wire in it, you start to separate things off the stove into their own spots on the kitchen aisle. A breakfast fit for a king, sausage and eggs , bacon and pancakes. All that was missing was Coffee. 

The night before you and Eddie had gone to Waynes for dinner leaving a small gift that he wasn’t supposed to open until this morning. You were sure he would open it as soon as you left but the line had stayed silent and Eddie knew for a fact he would call if he did. Given the gift he was receiving you had hoped the phone would ring sooner rather than later simply for the fact that you wanted Eddie to have peace of mind. Each second that passed you saw in Eddie’s features that he was going to the dark and weathered places. 

You and Eddie had given Wayne a mug. A small pink mug that when Wayne opened it reminded him of a diner he had not far from his house when he lived in Tennessee as a child. As Wayne poured his coffee into the mug he noticed that when he went to take a sip his hand caressed within it perfectly, a new favorite he would have to keep by the sink. As his last few sips drained the cup he saw an inscription on the bottom of the inside.

‘Pa Pa needs Coffee first’ 

A shrill ring from the telephone made you and Eddie nearly jump out of your skin. He picked up the phone and held it to his ear but before the word “hello” could leave his mouth Wayne had already started.

“Are you serious? Don’t be playing no games with me boy, cause if i have a heart attack then i'm taking your scrawny ass with me! You better be telling the truth or so help me -” 

Eddie's sniffles match Waynes as he just nods his head as if the man on the other end of the line can see him.

“I’m telling the truth, we’re having a baby girl, Uncle Wayne.”  Eddie turns as he hears a small sob leave you . You had been watching the man in front of you tell the most important person in his life the news of having your first child. It broke you in the best way.

 Eddie motioned for you to come over to him as he couldn't pull the cord far enough to reach you. He wrapped both of his arms around your neck as he held the phone to his ear letting Wayne rattle on his congratulations while you let the tears fall and land on his shirt. Eddie hoped this would be one of those moments you never forget. One that even when you were sitting next to him old and gray , he hoped this would be a memory he could always reach out for.

 Eddie hung up the phone and still having you wrapped up in his arms led you backwards. He stopped next to the fridge and opened it opting for orange juice instead of coffee. He had told you about a week or so ago that anything you couldn't do, he wouldn't do, and It was becoming a challenge. Coffee and a cigarette had been his daily routine for as long as he could remember, but having you struggle was something he was not going to let you do alone. So this morning he poured you a glass of juice along with his own and you both sat and ate the breakfast of champions, a slight Happy Father's Day on the tip of your tongue. 

Summer on the cusp of beginning in June of 1991 had bees buzzing and roses blooming . A cranky tot had been an alarm clock for you and Eddie for the past three weeks. Not only had your daughter reached the terrible twos but the heat was something she didn't like in the slightest. A stressful few months of Eddie working non stop and you finishing rotation on night shift had left you no time alone together. That would all end tonight. 

Wayne had agreed to take Angie for the weekend while you and Eddie had finally convinced your jobs to give you the time off. A rushed drive to Waynes gave you that pit feeling in your stomach and the tears that stained Angies face at your absence gave you tears to shed of your own. Mom guilt was always something you would struggle with. How could you not? Eddie squeezed your knee as he drove, peaking at you every so often to sooth the pit, he felt it too, but you deserve this. Eddie Deserved this. 

An early check-in to the hotel you had booked gave you enough time to get dressed and listen to Eddie complain about the restaurant you were taking him to having a dress code. You packed him a black blazer and a maroon button up ,but the man refused to wear slacks. Absolutely threw a fit about it, so he compromised and wore black jeans that you had to inspect for rips. While you wore a black dress that fit snugly against your soft tummy, coming up short against your thighs. If you bent over the entire place would be getting a show but you were saving that for your husband. God your husband, you loved the sound it rang through your brain, an earworm the word had become since you married. Husband, the father of your child, the man you gave your everything to and he gave you back all of himself in return. 

The dim light of the room made you squint at the incredibly small print of the menu in your hands and as you look across the table you see Eddie doing the same. 

“You see a burger here anywhere?” you roll your eyes. 

“Eddie, we did not drive an hour into the city for you to order a burger from a five star restaurant.”

“Why not?” you could see the slight slip of the corner of his mouth. You smile and turn your focus back on figuring out what to eat before the waiter comes back. The pasta sounds nice, the steak on a table across the way looks divine. You settle on a Caesar salad , Eddie orders steak and fettuccine. A beer in front of Eddie pairs with your glass of white as his hand comes across waiting for you to take hold. You indulge him as you pick up your glass with your other hand. Soft circles across your knuckles have you leaning into the table.

“Have i told you how incredible you look tonight?” Heat rushes through you at his tone, seep sultry, dark. A twist in where he laces your fingers with his own and a gleam in his eye. You know exactly what he wants to hear.

“Oh yeah? Me? What about you over there?” You return the look as the waiter sits your food in front of you interrupting whatever he was going to say.

 A tight smile is all he gives as he picks up his beer and takes a sip. He picks up his knife and you watch as he tries to cut into his steak, lifting your glass and taking a long sip you take the edge of your heels and slide it up his leg. He nearly drops his fork on the ground at the unexpected touch. Eddie stares wide eyed as he brings his food to his mouth slowly taking the bite.

You look away as if your heel isn't still making its way to his knee and sliding in between his thighs, placing your shoe right against his groin. You can see the way his body stiffens and instantly his hand is slammed against the table. It gets the attention of your waiter as if the sound was a call of his name. When he asks if you are enjoying your food and if you need anything Eddie rushes to get the words out.

“Yes! Good! Everything is delicious! Can we get the check please?” he obliges as he walks to grab the tab for the two of you. Giggling as you take in the wild look Eddie is giving you.

"You done already babe?"

"You are going to be the absolute death of me, woman.”  you pay for dinner as a treat for Fathers day, shit this whole weekend was for Fathers day. Eddie gave you hell for paying but the bruising grip on your hip as you walked through the restaurant had you knowing he was going to pay you back tenfold. 

Barely making it through the door to your hotel room Eddie had already shed the blazer you had made him wear. Lips catching between teeth and struggling to undo buttons has you both breathless and frustrated. Eddie pulls the shirt up and over his head yelling fuck it as it soars across the room. The rattle of his belt buckle sends a shiver down your spine as you sit and struggle to undo the clasp of your heels. Eddie kicks the denim that pooled around his ankles to the side as he jumps up onto the bed. His knees against the sheets, he takes one of your heels in his hands and leans it against his chest as he undoes the clasp for you. He throws the heel behind him and does the same to the other leaning over you as his hair falls around your face.

“Mhmm, I've been thinking ‘bout this all day.” your lips crash into his, a hungry, feral feeling overcomes you as you wrap your legs around his waist. His lips begin their journey down your neck and across your chest, sucking small spots and leaving small bruises, as if leading breadcrumbs to find his way back home. He reaches the hem of your dress as he nips at your thighs pushing the fabrics up so it bunches at your waist. 

“Isn't it Fathers Day, shouldn't I be the one going down on you?“ He catches your eyes as you look down and shakes his head. 

“Nope. Like you said, it's Fathers Day and that means I get whatever I want baby,  and I didn't get to have dessert.” He takes the lace between his teeth and lets it snap back in place listening as you let out a small whine from beneath him. 

“Mmm so sweet” He slips the thong along your thighs and down your legs as you let them spread for his immediate return. Except it’s not immediate, he takes his time. “So good to me, aren’t you sweetheart?” He takes his time kissing his way down your thighs to your dripping core. He drapes your legs over his shoulders as he slips his tongue through your folds and around your clit. Sucking hard as he lets the slick of your arousal coat his taste buds. Kissing your cunt as if he can’t live without its breath in his lungs. He slips his tongue into you as he lets his nose stimulate your clit. You wonder if he can breathe but the thought is lost as he slips a finger into you instead coming back to focus on that bundle of nerves. Your hands wrap themselves around his curls and grip hard, earning a moan from him that vibrates against your core as he adds another finger and a gasping moan sounding from deep within you as you chase that lightning through your core. Shaking thunderous moans of His name leave you as you give in to your husband. He slows the curl of his fingers and lets you ride out your high letting himself pant against your thigh as your grip in his hair loosens. 

Laughs from Eddie send you into a fit of your own giggles and the loving look he gives you as he hovers over you letting you taste yourself off his lips. Slow and needy you reach down and grasp Eddie's length through his boxers and a groan is made from the back of his throat.

“Eddie.” The soft moan of his name is all it takes for him to give you anything you ever wanted. Some Days it’s your laugh, other days it’s the way you take care of his daughter, but right now in this moment it’s the way you're sighing at his touch. 

You sit up pushing his shoulders back until his head hits the pillows,straddling his waist and sliding up and down his cock a few times, coating him in your slick. Lining him up with your entrance and sitting slowly until his entire length is buried inside you. A deep moan from within the both of you. You lift yourself off of him leaning back resting your hands on his thighs as the angle lets him hit that sweet spot inside of you with every drop back into his lap. The way his cock slides against your walls has you throwing your head back ,eyes closed in ecstasy.

“Uh uh , Look at me , Let me see you baby.”  your chest heaves with each thrust he sends upwards into you, unable to form words. A sudden flip has you separated from Eddie right as you were on the cusp.

“I said look at me Baby, Come on. What ? dick so good you’ve gone dumb?”  He slams into you and the sounds of his skin slapping yours, as he fucks you into the mattress, echoes off the walls.” God you’re so tight. Squeezin the fuck outta me.” You whine as he lifts you so your chest is flush with his own. “Look so good underneath me ,gonna fuck you full baby.” 

“Yes , god yes Fuck Eddie, fill me up.” you moan through each thrust, right against his ear. You reach your climax gushing around Eddie a small spray reaching his abdomen and wetting the sheets beneath you. Nail marks scratching down his back send him into his own orgasm as he coats the walls within you thick, falling forward with you under him. A weight you would always welcome. Both of you lay in utter bliss for what feels like forever before he slips out of you. You hiss at the empty feeling but welcome the warm rag Eddie drags across your center. A glass of water is given to you as you lay tangled in the sheets bringing them to your chest as you gulp down every drop. A small smile on Eddie's face has you feeling like you did the first time you saw him. Unbelievably awestruck. 

“What's on your mind Honey?” He thinks for a second but gives you an answer far from what you expect. 

“I think we just made our second child.” loud and blissfully you laugh. 

“One not enough? “ His dimples practically touch each other as he purses his lips, letting his tongue glide over the bottom.

“One is plenty, but I just can't help but want a little more of you in the world.” you sit up on your knees as you bring Eddies face down to your own, sliding a hand across his cheek as your lips meet.

"I wouldn’t mind a little more of you out there either.” 

#eddie munson #eddie munson x fem reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie stranger things #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #dad eddie munson #wayne munson #dilf!eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson blurb #mae blurbs

[itsagrimm]

He Who Comes from under the Water

Chapter 11 - The Dive

Monster!König X she/her afab Reader

CN: Mentions of possible death and injury, fear of water, nearly drowning, mentions of possibly getting hurt, inappropriate use of an axe, depression and bad mental health, on character is passively suicidal, cannibalism, fear of being alone, fear of separation from a loved one, lack of self-confidence, kissing, making out, partial nudity

Notes for better understanding at the bottom!

Beta-read by the equally afflicted @queenquazar. Unhinged writing and editing sessions in the dead of night wouldn't be the same without you.

6.0k words

Masterlist

Hope you enjoyed your summer as I have but now as it's getting colder, darker and most importantly weather outside, I am fairly sure updates will roll quicker now.

also I need to do more trips with my camera, I am running out of decent looking header photos.

I made a playlist for this series. Enjoy.

The fresh morning breeze caressed over your slowly warming up skin. Branches of trees danced a lazy rhythm and the late birds of summer sang their song. Ghost stood next to you, wrapped in his coat made of leaves and moss and sturdy solitude, as you both looked up to the window of your bedroom. König was in there, still asleep and out of your reach.

“Let’s try to wake up König one more time.”

Hope reared its head as you heard Ghost’s words.

But not too high.

“How?” You wondered out loud. “I am sorry that you feel stuck here with me, but König did not wake up last time you tried. Why should he now?”

“Maybe we need to try harder,” Ghost replied and grabbed Königs axe.

Your eyes widened.

“Hold on!” You tried to stop what was unfolding before you, only to witness Ghost grow in size, taller than the trees, taller than the house, and far away from your little human words.

“Enough, little brother,” Ghost groaned from high above you and you had to shield your ears from the loud thundering voice “It is time to wake up. I am tired of guarding your Bride in your stead.”

Birds took off, the earth shook and trees froze as in fear of the giant that was said to be their guardian.

Ghost straightened up and turned to the house.

“Hey!”

Like an animal on the hunt that got caught, Ghost froze and turned back, staring down at you with an oddly blank expression.

“What are you up to, Ghost?” You called, trying to ignore the little voice in your mind telling you that shutting up and quivering in fear before the giant was a smarter strategy to survive.

“Why the axe?” You squeaked as you tried not to squeak.

Ghost blinked, confused by this little being that was his future sister in law. Such a flimsy thing of flesh and bone, shouting at him from her place in the dirt. Ghost glanced at the axe, shaking his head.

“Right. I am sorry. I am not used to explaining myself but you have every right to ask,” Ghost admitted, and fell back into a shape more approachable to you, like a shadow growing smaller by the change of light.

“You can do it.” Ghost said. “Hit König with the axe to wake him up.”

You blinked, it was your turn to stare confused.

“He is just the Vodyanoy napping in water. Swinging an axe against him is like hitting the surface of a lake, stirring up a few waves but nothing else. He will be fine. And hopefully he will wake up from it.” Ghost explained and passed you the heavy axe before growing in size again.

You looked down onto the massive wood axe in your hands, the wooden handle old and used.

“Are you sure that will work, Ghost?” Uncertainty creeping up in your mind and voice, worry and frustration manifesting about your fiance’s wellbeing and actions.

“Have you ever heard of running water getting cut?” Ghost answered. “I am not saying König will like it, but it won’t harm him. Trust me.”

You swallowed, feeling uneasy. Hitting a human with an axe in their sleep was murder. Plain and simple. But, König was as much a human as you were a fish. His skin shifted and shaped as he pleased. He ruled the waters and even summoned them in his dreams after not sleeping for who knows how long, destroying your room. And his eyes…

“I understand this might be a lot to ask,” Ghost paused. “You will have to trust me on this one, Vodyanitza.”

His words danced through your mind like willow branches in the wind. If Ghost would have wanted to and this was ill-intentioned, he could have harmed König without bothering to talk and convince you of this plan. Maybe there was a point in trusting Ghost even if the thought of König getting hurt made you grow colder inside than the cooler morning breeze ever could.

You looked up to the giant and nodded.

“Let’s do this.”

“Hold on tight,” He stated and grabbed you to place onto the window sill to your bedroom. Like a leaf he tumbled into the room after you, turning himself small again and landing in the splashing water on your bedroom floor.

You cried out, first in surprise than dreadful fear from all the water suddenly around you as the heavy axe slipped out of your fingers and landed in the water, sinking down with a shallow ‘clunk’ against the wooden planks. 

“Ghost. I-” you eyed the water splashing around the room like a lively river. Or a dark river, a deep river, deep enough to drown. “I am afraid of water. I can’t get down from here. I can’t do it.”

Ghost made a sound that could have been a grumbled curse whispered by a tree before being hit by lightning.

“A Vodyaniza who fears the water,” He stated. “Sounds right like the mess my brother would cause. Alright, I’ll do it then.”

“Wait,” You looked at König as you tried to calm your nerves as you took deep calming breaths. He was still deep asleep. A mess of tangled unhuman limbs and scales and hair and skin in the waters of your flooded room. Panic and fear surged from all the water, but you forced those emotions in you aside as you tried to commit his sight to your memory, just in case something was to go wrong.

“Okay,” You finally agreed and nodded to Ghost.

This was it.

Ghost picked up the axe from the water and raised it high before swinging it down onto König.

The impact of the axe connecting with Königs head sounded like thunder rolling over you.

Loud and painful and final. 

Suddenly, like a storm, the water rose and reached high before you, waves building and crashing at your feet as you held onto the window frame for dear life while trying to see through the room filled with fine droplets of water and foamy waves.

A groan rang through your ear.

Königs voice - strained and painfully familiar.

Another groan as you heard a second hit from the axe through the wild waters before you … like…

…like a yawn before having to leave bed, yet still feeling tired.

“König?” You hoped aloud, your voice being drowned out by the rushing water and Ghost’s deep voice.

“Wakey-wakey, brother! Stop making your Bride wait for you!”

“Urgh.”

A massive wave crashed right next to the wall with your window, breaking the glass and causing the house to shake from the impact.

“Get up, little brother.” You could not see through all the splashing water before you, only hearing the sound of Ghost’s deep voice. “Stop being dramatic and flooding your girl’s room. It’s rude.”

A third axe hit thundered through the little space before you. More water rose and a wave finally hit you. You wailed as you tried to fight against the dreadful flood, with desperate fingers you reached for safety. Catching the clammy window frame, the sill, and finally just the thin fabric of the curtains until the pull of the retreating water consumed you and took you in to the deep waters.

The silence of being underwater was more unbearable for your mind than the loud crashing of waves and shattering sounds of the hitting axe above.

For a moment fear froze your body and you could not help but stare as you floated impossibly downwards at the sight of König, coiled up like a serpent snake and shifting scales reflecting the light. His eyes were closed except for a sliver of that beautiful blue peeking into the world as if the king of everything under the water was about to wake up. Bubbles of air fought their way out of your lungs and you felt panic as you watched the axe hitting König from above.

Would he be fine?

No blood came out of the wound that broke as the axe connected with Königs sleeping shape. You watched König being unharmed and lazily stretching his long limbs and body as you floated downwards, taken by a strong current in the impossibly deep waters of your bedroom.

Wait, would you be fine?

König did not notice any of it. Instead, his eyes only slightly fluttered, as if merely being tickled awake - lazy, unfocused blinking of blue eyes before sharpening up. Still sleepy, he looked around as if confused if he was still dreaming or awake. Finally, König locked eyes with you and smiled. It was a beautiful smile, toothy and life-savingly-relieving to see him coming back to his senses.

You did not smile back. The air bubbles in your mouth were too precious a cargo to smile for König, opting instead for an unhappy grimace and some waving motions that hopefully spelled out: ‘I don’t want to be here and need your help to get out’.

For a moment, a very long moment as you struggled, König blinked before the realisation kicked in. He was far away, so far away from you in the waters that he had dreamed up. Yet, unbelievably quick the serpent body moved and changed as König headed for you. With hands, not scaled claws anymore,  König reached out as he fought his way through a whole ocean between you and him as a last air bubble left your mouth. 

Your head was spinning and you started to lose sight as you felt hands on you that lifted you up and out of the water.

You coughed, ungraciously spitted out water as König tried wiping out hair and tangled clothes out of your face.

“Bride! Are you okay?”

You vomited water at his feet and chest while he held you like a cat that got rescued from the floods, close to his body and patting you like a little animal.

“She looks fine.” Ghost’s gravelly voice sounded through the air as you still tried to blink and see. “You better worry about this flood you caused.”

“Oh. Right.” You felt König shift and then the sound of water draining away as if someone  had pulled a plug.

You coughed again for good measure, still feeling weak and miserably wet. The cold was starting to set in as the rush of fear and panic started to run out.

Shivering, you tried wiping away the water from your face and opened your eyes.

Your bedroom was a mess. But not in the way your mother would have disapproved of but in a way she would have questioned whether or not it was still habitable. The water was gone, but the signs of the flood were catastrophically clear with nothing being dry, in pieces or not where it ought to be. Your bed was a pile of torn fabrics and splintered wood. The chest with your clothing, tipped over and empty, looked like a sad hungry animal no one had bothered to feed. And your few personal possessions, kept toys from your childhood, gifts from friends, clothes lying around the floor. Ghost was standing before you on something that might have been pieces of your wedding dress, leaning on the axe with the same skull-covered expression as always, yet appearing somewhat amused under it.

And König - he was holding you up to his chest, his hands still patting you helplessly as if that could help you. He looked human. Mostly. The hair was as messy as the first day you saw him, covering most of his face except for blue eyes burning through with worry.

“I-” you rasped despite the storm of emotions waging through you. “I was so worried about you, König.”

Another cough.

“But I have never been as angry as this before. What did you do with my room? And my wedding dress. Also-”

You felt like there was still some water in places of your body where none was supposed to be, wheezing and shaking your head from the uncomfortable feeling.

“-put me down. You are so cold and I feel like I am freezing in your arms.”

Guiltily, König put you down, mumbling something that could have been an apology while Ghost choked on something that could have been a laugh.

You paid no attention to them, concentrating on your weak legs to hold you and carry you to the torn pieces of your wedding dress. Ghost stepped aside and watched you with open curiosity as you held your dress in disbelief of how quickly your work had turned into rags.  Holding back tears, you let the fabric fall back down with a wet squelching sound and turned to the door. If you were lucky the hinges still worked and you could walk out on your own and warm you up again downstairs, away from the left battlefield that used to be your sanctuary.

You stumbled, reaching for the handle and opening the door only to face another cruel adversary.

The stairs.

There was no way you were able to make it down the steps without breaking your neck with how wobbly your legs felt and how ridiculously shaky your hands twitched.

You turned around, the pleading frustration in your eyes too visible for König not to step closer and peaking at the obstacle in your way.

He nodded while trying to control whatever emotions attempted to govern his face.

“Allow me, Bride.” He asked and lifted you up again before carrying you downstairs and into the kitchen, setting you down before the warm oven.

Ghost followed and started preparing tea and a hot stone before leaving the room as König returned with dry clothes for you, magically found somewhere in a part of the house that hadn’t been flooded. You looked at the pieces offered in his hands, only to see that it was a mix of mostly your fathers and brothers clothes from the storage. You did not care. They were dry and the village would judge you no matter what you wore. Might as well just do the best for yourself.

Unceremoniously, you stripped out of your dripping clothes. König held and steadied you where you needed it and grabbed the discarded pile of fabrics to put it up on the laundry line outside once you were done.

You stayed where you were, leaning close to the oven in the hopes of warming up quickly, and refusing to do anything before feeling less miserable.

Ghost was still a guest. And König was your fiance. A good hostess and bride would have started serving them the food that you had previously prepared.

A good hostess and bride would not have been dipped into a pool of dreamed up water in their own bedroom either. You thought bitterly before adding a relieving Fuck it.

Someone knocked at the door and you called them in.

Ghost reappear from the outside with a blanket of moss and leaves, wrapping it around you and placing you in the nearest chair to the oven before passing you a cup of the freshly brewed tea.

“Thank you,” You rattled through cold lips.

König returned with more wood for the oven and added a large log to feed the fire. You had shown him how to care for a fire, never expecting he would ever find a need for it. Both brothers hustled and moved around your little kitchen, hardly speaking and only every once in a while giving you worried glances as they made sure all work of a proper household would be done while you rested and warmed yourself. You closed your eyes, letting the feeling of being safe and cared for, seep in.

This day, even if it was slightly past midday, had punched all energy out of you while also confronting you with every possible emotion a human heart could feel. Waking up in the flood, alone and confused, next to your water serpent like fiance, meeting your future brother-in-law who thought you would die soon, nearly drowning once again while your fiance woke from the literally deepest nap possible in your now destroyed room. You sighed, not even bothering to bring order into your mind.

Instead, you gratefully thought how you finally weren’t alone even if it was scary at times to share your life with beings so different from you - König, Ghost, Farah, talking animals and murderous Rusalkis. Yes, this had been another moment where you could have been harmed. And mourning your room and things destroyed by the flood, was one of many things in the curled grey corners of your mind. There was still anger and confusion in you why it all had happened. But you weren’t alone anymore to face those things on your own. There were people around you now that noticed you and cared for your well-being. Clearly, not all of them to the same degree or out of the same motive. You understood that. But your lost room and wedding dress, your fears and secrets and longings felt more like a coherent song than a desperate cry for help when it wasn’t just your voice.

Someone touched you softly on the shoulder and you opened your eyes.

“Hey.” König stood before you with his blue watery eyes and wild hair.

Both brothers had paused their busy work and stood with their attention turned towards you.

“How are you feeling?” Ghost asked gravely from his far away spot at the door and reached for more tea for you with his long unhuman arms without moving.

You shivered, unsure if from the cold or from the odd reminder that neither of the men were human.

“Better,” You replied. “Thank you for giving me time to recover.”

Your eyes wandered to König, craving to hear his voice again and feel his warming eyes on you. He looked away, avoiding your gaze.

Your little heart dropped deeper than the waters in your room had been, fighting hard to soldier on.

You cleared your throat.

“Well,” you squeaked, your voice still feeling thin and fragily human as you addressed the giant men. “I am starving. This is not how a host normally does it in this house since all I did was sit and rest now. But how about we eat?”

The rabbit stew that you had made this morning smelled tempting and promising from its reheating spot in the oven and you heard your own stomach growl.

“Thank you for the invite, Vodyanitza,” Ghost declared, slightly bowing his head. “But we will have to do that another time.”

“Oh,” You huffed, slightly disappointed.

Ghost stilled, as if thinking before taking a deep breath.

“It has been lovely meeting you, my dear sister-in-law. It’s been a pleasure. Also- ” He paused. “I may have treated you rougher than necessary and I do apologise for that. If you ever need help, just send for me. I may not appear to be the most, let’s say, approachable. But I do hope that there is nothing but the best for you and I am looking forward to your wedding.”

“You are coming after all?” König finally spoke, surprise ringing in his voice as he turned to his brother.

Ghost nodded. “It’s not every day a brother of mine gets married. I need to make sure you don’t drown your own wedding guests.”

König forced a smile.

“Graves marries someone new every couple of years,” He interjected.

“Graves married and remarried so much, he hardly needs his elder brother to tell him how to plan a party. He knows what he is doing.”

Both brothers chuckled and you smiled at the sight, remembering your own brother.

“Before I go, dear sister, allow me to give you something.”

Ghost  reached into his coat. From the depths of his pockets he produced a huge leaf, rolled up into a package and bound together with a simple string.

“I suppose you have none yet, but a future queen should wear one. It would look good on your wedding day.”

You took the package from his hands and pressed it slightly, trying to guess what was inside.

“Thank you, Ghost. Why-“

“Open it.”

Obediently you opened the little knot holding the leaf together with slow, cold fingers and unrolling what was inside.

You gasped.

In your hands was a Kokoshnik, large and covered with fine embroidery and colourful stones of green and blue. It felt firm in your hands. And it wanted to be worn. Like a crown, proud and bright for a special day. At least one thing you would have for your wedding day.

You thought back a sob at the thought of your torn wedding dress, your fingers still holding the precious crown like an anchor.

“I am sure König will gladly help you put it on. But don’t lose it. I made it for you and there is no other like it. It will protect you when you walk in the forest.”

“I…”, you huffed, “…don’t know what to say. This is very beautiful. Thank you.”

Ghost just waved with his hand like it was nothing.

“Don’t say anything and just wear it to keep you safe. Do me that favour.”

You nodded, out of words.

“Well, I’ll be gone then. The forest calls me.” Ghost turned to the door and you started to get up to send him off. “Don’t you dare get up, sister. What’s the point of the Kokoshnik if you fall sick from the cold and exhaustion. No, stay right where you are.”

You fell back onto your spot, the moss blanket encasing you like a cocoon of earthly smell and warmth.

“Save travels then, Ghost.” You spoke. “Thank you again.”

“Don’t mention it.” He waved and stepped outside, followed by König.

You sat there, hearing them talk and laugh and wishing each other well without making much out of it.

Then, finally, Ghost was away.

The rest of your day was spent alone with your own thoughts. König, aside from making sure you ate and rested, hardly spoke to you. His distance confused you. It gave a feeling of newfound loneliness when you stared at the unfamiliar ceiling with the wrong knots in the wood and the wrong bedding around you as you leaned against the oven. Ghost’s reassurances just a couple of hours ago now felt like a lie. You were no queen. And there was no way for you to live long enough to ever learn how to be one for König that was good enough. No standing on a box or life saving spells could change that. The finality of your fate was devastatingly simple. You would drown and König, your beloved König, would find himself a better queen. Why else did he withdraw himself like that?

The mauling insecurities inside of you stopped you from asking.

Instead you listened to König rummaging upstairs while you dozed under your moss blanket, practised drawing letters in the ashes of your oven or thought about how you could fix your wedding dress. It was pointless but you had little else to do and so you continued like you had always done.

König had brought the dress out together with the rest of your wet belongings, hanging it up to dry in the sun. The liberating concentration kept you from your dark thoughts: you had watched the dress through the window, mentally placing one piece of rag over the other in the hopes of possibly having a saving idea as the rags swayed gently in the breeze. It had worked until the light grew low and the trees around the house in the garden had started to spawn more unpleasant shadows than welcome distractions.

You got up from your cosy spot and started preparing dinner. Still feeling weak, your legs carried you with a slight tremor as your whole body was plagued by a deep tiredness. It came from all those times not resting. It felt like all those tears not shed. It was a tiredness that wasn’t fixed by sleeping longer one night because it was deeper than the soreness in your muscles and bones. It was the dark abyss of water calling for you. But you could lie to yourself. Opting to go to bed and calling it a day in the hopes that tomorrow would be better. Sometimes, giving up was actually a smart thing.

You huffed, once again forced to consider the reality of your situation.

Going to bed? Where? Your bedroom was destroyed. And the other rooms in your house had been packed up and sealed when your family died. Back then it was too much to bear seeing their things and looking at the places they used to rest. Even now, under no condition were you ready or willing to disturb those rooms. The easiest for you would probably be to sleep here in the kitchen.

But what about König? Would he need to sleep too? Flood the rest of the house and destroy every last bit of habitable space as he took you out in your sleep? Or would he leave you tonight and watch as the human-monsters and monsters-monsters finally had their feast with you. The thought nearly entertained you. Maybe that was better than drowning and at least some poor Tschort would enjoy a bit of your precious meat.

You chuckled at your own morbid thoughts.

But it was not night yet, and maybe there was a bit of queenly pride inside of you yet as you decided to brace yourself for an overdue conversation with König, leaning against the kitchen counter for support.

You opted to make some food. Since it might be your last chance to enjoy a meal before you became a meal, you took your time. There was not much to be done for dinner: heating the left-over stew, cutting some bread made of acorn flour, setting the table. After you finished, you steeled yourself for the hardest part.

“König?” You called upstairs. “Would you like to eat dinner with me?”

You held your breath and waited as the rumbling from upstairs stopped.

“It’s fine if you are busy, but I am hungry and would love your company,” You coaxed.

Heavy steps sounded through the wooden house, causing the old stairs to creak under the weight of the Vodyanoy.

König emerged into the kitchen, bowing down slightly under the marginally too low ceiling and looking at you sheepishly.

“Are you sure, Bride?” He asked. “I haven’t finished repairing your room.”

You raised your eyebrows in surprise, too stunned to speak before you swallowed down a good chunk of your raging insecurities. 

“So that’s what you have been doing up there,” You finally said. “I did not know.”

König looked to the ground like he had been caught stealing goodies from the pantry. It was a look that made your knees weaker than even a day facing terrors could.

“I wanted to repair it. I wanted to apologise with more than words. It’s what good kings ought to do.” He explained looking immensely guilty.

Your breath hitched.

He cared?

You looked down, still thinking of your room and your ruined wedding dress. It did hurt you.

But there was hope because he cared. You nearly hated yourself how desperate you were from the affection of someone who you could never have.

“It’s fine,” You said, after a few moments of heavy silence as you fought the storm inside of you. “It’s fine for now. We will make it work and repair it together. It’s, ah, fine.”

He looked relieved as you looked up from your hands.

“I also want to apologise,” You continued. The words in your mouth felt relieving to spit out like bitter medicine. “I thought about this. I was really cross at you. Not entirely sure how much nicer I could have been considering the moment. But I don’t strive to talk to others like that, especially not my fiance. I just felt hurt and alone.”

He turned his head like the Heron when hunting little fish in the water.

“You have every right to be angry, dear,” König stated

“I...” You tried before stopping and starting anew. “That does not mean I am proud or okay with my words. Especially after Ghost explained to me that you probably overworked yourself on my behalf. I am not sure how to feel about that yet but it does not make me feel good. I don’t want you to suffer because of me. I feel so guilty. And like a burden.”

König stared at you.

“Dear,” He said softly. “I know you want to be good and kind. I know you are. But please give me your bad as well.”

You blinked at him.

“What?”

He raised his arms like a man at a loss of word, stumbling around the room until he turned back to you.

“Guess how I feel failing you over and over again when your reaction to me is kindness and surrender? I feel bad. The worst! Don’t do this to me. Be a burden. Be angry. Be the biggest inconvenient person wherever you go. Please be angry and demand better of me! I want all of you. Not just the nice parts.”

Your head was spinning. Was he…? Did he really…?

“I am not good enough!” König continued his tirade with a voice rising louder and louder like a tea kettle that had reached its boiling point. “I am who puts you in danger over and over again. I hardly protect you from the dangers of the world. I am a danger of the world. I am making a poor husband for you. But the reality is, I am not good enough to step away because I am selfish. So, how dare you make yourself feel any less than you are.”

His eyes gleamed with a madness you had never seen before in him as he lowered his voice with the last of his words. It was dangerous. A sign of warning that told you to step back and run as far away as you could like a good girl should.

But you were just invited to leave that behind you.

“I don't want you to leave either!” You hit back, squaring up to the challenge. “I just don’t want to feel like I am a constant problem. I am just a human! A peasant! And a bad one at that since I will likely starve next winter without help! I know nothing of how to be a queen! I nearly drown all the time! How can you not understand that I don’t feel like I am allowed to be a problem when my reality is that no one cares if I live or die!”

“Because you are wrong! I care.” König's eyes gleamed as he hissed his answer.

“Why?” You spit back, the fire in you burning and ready to torch any bridge behind without thinking.

“Because I love you.”

Königs words hung in the air, irretrievable and powerful enough to break whatever you two had.

You looked at him. His face was frozen in fear and panic. Like he had admitted to a crime he’d sworn to keep a secret.

He loved you. The thought raced through your mind, unsure where to be put and what to do with it now.

“I am sorry,” König said. “I understand. I will make sure you are okay as promised anyway and-”

“Please…” you managed to your own surprise.

“Please?” König asked with his eyes shining down at you.

You took a deep breath and all the courage in you that was left, “Please lean down so I can kiss you.”

König looked at you, too stunned maybe or unsure how to touch you without breaking this human body of yours, before finally kneeling down in one, not so smooth, motion. You stumbled forward, colliding into his chest and tangling in his arms before lifting your head and kissing him.

It was all teeth and desperation. König met your lips with a hunger matching yours, and an anger challenging your long hidden fury. He moaned and you wanted every bit of air you could get from him as you roamed his back and shoulders and arms and chest and neck, and at a certain point you got lost in him. You bit his lips and tasted blood. He snarled and pushed you back, catching your head before you could fall and hurt yourself. You stumbled and fell back anyway, taking him with you. The crash rumbled loudly as König caught himself on his arms, hovering above you before continuing where you had left off. His mouth was addicting, and willingly you answered his salty lips and tongue. A bit of revealed skin at his neck here, a tug at your shirt there. You scooted up feeling hot and needing that damn old shirt off your body because you were burning up with it. Instead of getting it off quickly you got yourself tangled in the large sleeves, nearly ready to just tear it off your body as you felt Königs hands pulling at the fabric and freeing you. The kiss of the cooling air on your skin made you still. For a moment you felt shy, making you cross your arms in instinct before your chest.

König looked at you from a position that was something between kneeling, sitting and lying before you, also half out of his clothes with his Rubacha hanging around his neck and head.

“Not sure why I feel like this is new, now.” You admitted. “You have seen me naked before.”

“That was a different nakedness,” König offered and finished getting the shirt off. “This is new.”

You nodded, understanding entirely what he meant, and continued to feel vulnerable. What were you supposed to do? You had no idea what you wanted now except being close to König.

“We don’t have to continue, my love.” Your fiance said.

You nodded again, reassured yet still utterly lost on what to do.

König scooted closer and slowly raised his hands, “Can I touch you? I just want to hold you.”

Instead of bothering with words or another creative and variety serving nod, you leaned into him. Königs warm hands caught you, pressed you closer to him and embraced you.

You hummed.

“Is this good?”

“Yeah, I am sorry-”

“No,” König shut down instantly. “No more ‘sorry’ for you tonight. Or ever. I really meant that.”

You knitted your eyebrows together in confusion.

“But what if I do something bad?” You countered as you enjoyed feeling close to König. “Shouldn’t I say sorry at some point?”

“To me? Always.” König grinned teasingly before growing serious. “The rest of the world, however, has a lot of apologising to do before you ever get back into a situation to be sorry for something, dear.”

“You just want me to be as bad as you are,” You teased back half-heartedly.

“Naturally.”

You stayed silent, not sure what to say or do except enjoying being safe and loved in Königs arms as you mindlessly explored his back and chest with your fingers, drawing little circles and charms into his wonderful skin.

“We should talk about the sleeping situation tonight.” You finally spoke, breaking the silent spell over you.

“Yeah.” König agreed. “I have an idea.”

Cultural Context Notes:

The theme of the unkillable giants as beings connected to nature can be found in the Edda, but it’s not the only place this theme is explored. It’s just the most clear one I thought of, and can be put into words as a place to maybe start researching if your are interested in that. The idea of hitting König as something akin to a giant to wake him up, comes from the tale of Thor and Skrímnir.

Generally, the idea of paralleling gods/godlike beings, humans and giants, escalated into a bit of a philosophical excursion at the kitchen table when I mentioned how the story is unfolding, leading to the question what exactly the difference between godlings, giants and humans is and if there even is one. In plenty of pre-Christian European tales, there aren’t boundaries between godlike beings and humans. If a human stays with a godlike being, they kind of tag along and don’t die like they would have had when staying with their fellow humans. Sometimes there is an explanation for it (godly ancestry, nectar or Idun’s apples, magical blessings), sometimes there isn’t (Thialfi and Röskva as Thor’s entourage, general trope of humans in service of or in marriage with a non-human being). 

Warming stones or using ceramics is an old practice when hot water bottles weren’t available.

There are several legends and myths associating the water or waters generally with snakes. Naturally, there is the saga of the Midgard snake, encompassing the world in Norse mythology. The theme of a great water snake or mermaid-like half-fish, half-human body encompassing the world also comes up in Greek mythology in the figure of Oceanos as the great river god and father of river gods. Since we don’t have plenty of sources about old Slavic beliefs, I am taking the liberty and filling some gaps here from geographically closer regions where we do have more sources on mythology.

Acorn is edible and can be made into a fine flour from which it is possible to bake bread. However, do not just make flour from acorns. It’s a huge process to disinfect and debitter acorns before grinding them into flour. There is a reason why nowadays most cultures opt for utilising cultivated crops like grains and legumes instead of using low yield giving nuts and seeds. (Also, we really need those acorns as food for wild animals and for reforestation!) Cultivation of plants is a huge game changer for human life quality and communal living. It’s really cool. But it does require more cooperative systems of labour since harvesting and processing plants like grain requires sharing of work, space to do it, and natural weather & ground conditions to grow. Plus the grain in itself needs to be cultivated first. And these amazing food sources can be exploited by having control over places in which one can grow certain high yielding crops which can trigger war and oppression. Most noticeably in the Central and Eastern European region, which is obviously what I write about a lot, this is the case with Ukraine. This now independent country has good climate and ground conditions, yielding great harvests of wheat grain and sunflower, leading to the region being dubbed the Granary of Europe. Ukraine was fought over not just today but also occupied in historical moments like WW2 by the Nazis or under the Russian Empire precisely to have access to these high yielding conditions. So, food and where food comes from, is an important angle to understand plenty of conflicts, imperial oppression and cultures. I invite you to read more about the history of grain, why Ukraine has a flag literally depicting a grain filed under the blue sky or maybe learning how to make bread yourself. To return to my point:  Bride lives in an area which has seasons. However, the climate is cooler with lots of swamps and waters around. The forest takes most of the shore space in her immediate vicinity. She has a garden in which she (tries to) grow buckwheat, a very climate-resistant pseudo grain. And technically she owns fields, but has no way to work them on her own due to the lack of manpower, possible lack of seeds, as well as timing issues for the sowing. But common grains like wheat require a warm and steady dry climate which is not the case here. Other grains like rye are historically common in Central and Eastern Europe, however one needs to plant them first and after the harvest it still requires labour to dry and deshell the rye first, a luxury that Bride does not have because she has been on her own for most of the year. So, to finish this long excursion on grains and flours - she uses acorn flour for bread because she was isolated and on her own. Also, agriculture is really cool and maybe you will think about the amount of labour, logistics, politics and historical development when biting into something flour based.

Vodyanitza is just the female version of Vodynoy

Rubacha is the name of the traditional linen shirt worn by historically both men and women but nowadays mostly associated with male clothing traditions. This shirt is often loosely fitted and bound at the hip with a belt. Having embroidery, especially red embroidery on a Rubacha is very common as red natural dye was widely available in the region. The embroidery and introduction of other colours is dependent on the exact time and place a Rubacha comes from. Even nowadays the Rubacha is part of plenty of Eastern European traditional dresses.

Quick reminder: a Tschort is a type of evil spirit.

Would you like to be tagged as well? send me a message.

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#grimmwriting #he who comes from under the water #hwcfutw #könig #könig x reader #könig cod #könig mw2 #könig call of duty #call of duty modern warfare 2 #call of duty #call of duty 3 #call of duty modern warfare 3 #call of duty modern warfare #simon ghost riley #leshy #monster!au #monster!König #vodyanoy #vodyanoy!König

[redcoralpot]

Smudged (5)

Summary: Rodrick lives up to his side of the deal, or should I say, community service.

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 1K

A/N: Okay, so, this wasn't all that was planned for this chapter. Buttt I felt really rushed and hadn't updated this fic in a little over a month. I'll edit this with the rest of the chapter when I get to it, but for now, it's being put to rest indefinitely. Thank you for the support!

-

The next day, your best friend arrived in English early, much to your surprise. Daniel tossed a notebook onto your desk, slouching in his seat as if he were a drunk, divorced father. You took it into your hand, reading the messily written label, before looking up at the sorrowful boy in front of you. The pages were filled to the brim with outlines, sketches, and ideas; some pictures were lightly colored in.

“I see you’ve been busy,” you quipped.

Daniel hissed, the bags under his eyes more prominent, “This prompt is crap! I’ve been up all night trying to figure out how to do this.”

“You’re thinking too hard about it, Dan.” You pass it back to him, fingers tapping the wooden desk.

“That’s easy for you to say,” he ranted, “you just have drums!”

“I’d rather have the guitar.”

He rubbed his temples, “Not my point. Can’t you come with me tonight to take pictures?”

“In the forest? Dude, that’s every horror movie plot,” you scoffed, watching other students file in.

They sat in their seats or hopped on desks, with one girl rudely scooting on Daniel’s, “I know, that’s why I want you to come with me. I need photos for the presentation board!”

“I dunno if I can, I’m supposed to be going to Rodrick’s house tonight.”

“Since when did you start hanging out with him?”

“Since the need for a decent grade.”

Ms. Kawiti was the last to stroll inside, setting her bag on the table in the front of the classroom. She cleared her throat, and caused all chatter to cease, including your conversation with Daniel. Your best friend grumbled, turning back around, attempting to dodge the long hair intruding in his personal space. The girl herself reluctantly returned to her own place, sharing a few final giggles with her group. You leaned back in your chair, arms crossed and feet perched underneath your desk on a metal bar. There were other boys around the class doing the same, and you adjusted yourself to make the position more comfortable. Why did time have to go so slow when fun is on the other side? 

On just another thing you were better than Rodrick at, you did not break any personal property when parking outside his house. Your shoes clacked against the concrete driveway, purple laces swinging, only stopping to knock on the door. The person who answered was not Rodrick, no, but a much older woman with a professional-looking outfit and brown hair to match. She looked so strikingly different from the drummer you knew that you almost backed away, apologizing for coming to the wrong house. Almost. 

“Excuse me, ma’am, is this the Heffley family’s house?”

She seemed taken aback, almost wary as she took in your appearance, “Yes, are you one of Rodrick’s… bandmates?”

“Uh, no, I’m Heather’s brother. He invited me over for research,” you shrugged.

“Rodrick and research?” Mrs. Heffley cocked an eyebrow up, slightly stepping back to allow you inside.

You waved your hands, and said, “I know, absolutely unbelievable! However, I can assure you that I’m telling the truth– he brought home some books.”

“And I read it, duh,” a voice called from above.

Rodrick, the devil, hung his head over the overhead railing. He cocked his head at you, sneering. Mrs. Heffley shook her head, sighed, and walked into a separate room beside you; there wasn’t any attention on her anymore. Rodrick motioned for you to come up the stairs, before disappearing again.

His voice echoed, “C’mon, my room’s the coolest here!”

For a split second, you hesitated. You glanced back to where Mrs. Heffley had disappeared, unsure of whether it was appropriate to leave your shoes on and make a mess of the house. Just to be safe, you set them neatly beside the door, before following the other boy up the stairs.

When you finally arrived, Rodrick had already vanished once again. There were multiple doors running down the hallway, but the only hint as to the correct one was the faint sound of guitar riffs. It almost sounded like it was coming from above you, though you decided to peek into the closest unlocked door. This room wasn’t even a bedroom; it was simply a small bathroom meant for one or two people. There was a bit of a smell inside, like someone hadn't flushed the toilet. Hell, as curious as you were, you weren’t going to confirm that.

You barely could close the door before a finger tapped your shoulder, and you flinched, turning around– it was just Greg. The little boy was Rodrick’s unlucky younger brother, who was at least a head shorter than you. He seemed nicer than your acquaintance, and it really made you wonder how the two of them were raised in the same household. Perhaps Rodrick was adopted? Nah. Greg was studying you with a standoffish look in his eyes, the kind kids get when they meet strange family friends. You weren’t surprised; your looks were far from the typical suburban rich boy.

“His room’s in the attic,” Greg said, plainly, “Last door.”

He scurried off to do his own things, possibly to bug his mother about the newest Nintendo game. There was no last door on the left, only a wall that held an uncharacteristically peaceful family photo. Rodrick was still Rodrick, just younger, with devilish messy hair and dirt under his nails. On the right, however, there was a slightly ominous wooden door. In direct contrast to the opposite wall, the door had a sign that read Rodrick Only. It was so childishly Rodrick that you couldn’t help but chuckle under your breath. 

One knock, two knock, three knock. The music coming from above grew ever so slightly quieter, and you could hear heavy footsteps coming down the attic stairs. It opened, only to an unimpressed drummer.

“Dude, aren’t you coming?” He frowned.

 You shrugged, pointing to the sign, “I’m not allowed in. It’s Rodrick only, remember?”

Said boy rolled his eyes, huffing out a laugh, “You’re the exception.”

“The exception?”

“An exception,” he corrected himself.

You pushed past him, clambering up the stairs, “Whatever you say, dick.”

“Weirdo.”

Rodrick’s room was, to put it nicely, a mess. His bed was undone, random magazines poked out from under his mattress, and you honestly couldn’t tell if the jeans hanging on the railing were dirty or clean. Three, conjoined windows were the only source of natural light, and you swore you could see a spider web hanging off the sill. Posters and grimy t-shirts were plastered all over the walls and ceiling; you doubted any space was left untouched. Rodrick’s drum set sat in the corner, shining like it was brand new.

He was shuffling through a bookshelf behind you, containing almost everything but books themselves, much to your amusement. Rodrick must have seen the quirk of your lips when he managed to pull a thin, perfectly packaged music book from its depths, as his eyes narrowed when he turned to face you. 

“This is for the bare basics of drumming, it should cover all that mechanical stuff you have in your outline,” he shrugged.

“You actually read that?”

Rodrick’s gaze flicked towards you, unsure, before his chest puffed up obnoxiously, “Duh, what kinda guy do you take me for?”

…

“I’m not gonna answer that.”

“You’re just too scared to admit that I’m awesome!”

You mumbled, “You’re delusional.”

“Aha! I knew it!”

“If you know so much,” you tapped the cymbal, “give me what I’m here for.”

The 

Rodrick groaned, “You’re such a party pooper sometimes.”

“Ironic.”

He swiped the drumsticks from the seat and pointed them at you threateningly, like an annoyed teacher, “Shh.”

Rodrick used the sticks to point out each individual drum part, explaining the noise they make and how he uses them in his band. You scratched your nose while he rambled on, not feeling in the mood to tell him you knew this already. It was only when he started back on the ego talk that your attention drifted to other parts of his room, to all the little details. There was a large poster of a woman holding a dark colored guitar, her hair swept back in a 90’s hairstyle that most definitely wouldn’t be possible without layers upon layers of spray. She had eyeliner smudged across her eyelids, but they had a cleaner edge than Rodrick’s attempts; quite similar to yours. Rodrick was now doing light taps to 4-4 time, nodding his head to the rhythm, eyes closed. 

The fan in the opposite corner was making the glossed pages under his mattress flutter and loosen from where they were hidden. If you squinted your eyes, you could just barely make out a part of the photo– were those biceps? If you shuffled a bit to the right, you could pull it out enough that it would flutter out on its own, and that it did. Hell, Rodrick was too busy rocking out on the drums to hear your suspicions being confirmed.

You wouldn’t be surprised if Rodrick had a magazine full of half naked women hanging around somewhere; it was Rodrick, after all. However, one full of shirtless men? That was out of character for the self proclaimed womanizer. For a moment, you thought about telling him that you knew about his stash, but quickly dismissed it. You couldn’t imagine how embarrassing that would be for someone, even an asshole as shameless as him! Besides, who knows how insulated the walls of this house are, right? You bit your tongue, humming along to Rodrick’s music as he made a dramatic finish to the song.

“I was starting to worry I wasn’t keeping your attention there,” he chuckled to himself.

You tilted your head, “I just got lost in the beat, you know how it is.”

“That I do, dude. Was that all you needed?”

“Bingo, you were super useful.”

He grinned, “I’m always helpful! You could literally just ask Gregory his opinion on it, I taught him all about how to survive middle school.”

“The harshest environment, I’m aware.” You stood up.

“Okay,” he sensed the sarcasm in your tone, “you’re banned. Get out.”

“I’m going, I’m going, don’t get your panties in a twist!”

You ran down the stairs, hearing him cackling the whole way down. Rodrick was funny sometimes, you had to give him that. Maybe these next few weeks wouldn’t be so bad, after all.

-

#x male reader #male reader #lgbtq #male y/n #gay #bi rodrick heffley #rodrick heffley #doawk rodrick #rodrick x reader #diary of a wimpy kid rodrick #rodrick rules #transgender #punk #trans male reader #trans ftm #doawk #diary of a wimpy kid

[yesimwriting]

Final Girl (part 4)

(the scenes in this is what inspired the series so ig technically could be read as a stand alone and still make sense but the previous chapters obviously add context lol) Part 4 to - Final Girl Series Masterlist (currently updated parts 1 - 9 and extras)

A/n fun fact there are two alternate versions of part 4 in my drafts, if anyone wants a bonus scene of Billy and Stu having a full conversation with Gloria, and/or a short scene of Y/n and Gloria getting ready together (which shows. a little bit more of their dynamic) it’s basically done and would only need a little bit of editing lol

also!! thinking about doing a lil billy & stu blurb night or sleepover thing,, any thoughts on that lol (prob saturday afternoon, when i’ll be tipsy 😭,, tipsy writing is fun) 

my favorite thing about this chapter is how they’re all cute for 3 minutes and then get violently toxic 😭 duality ig?? 

Warning: i broke and put the first touch of smut into this 😭 everything before the switch in POV is pretty PG (very toxic vibes tho!!), so if you don’t want to read anything sexual just skip over the part at the end that’s in narrator’s POV!! (pls be nice, writing smut scares me, i’ve had very few sexual experiences and have enjoyed none of them lmao)

Series Summary: Y/n can’t believe that she has to leave the only home she’s ever known just because her mom’s latest boyfriend has a house in some town in California. Just as she’s starting to think that Woodsboro might not be that bad, something life altering happens after she agrees to sleep over at the Becker’s house. Now her name is practically synonymous with Ghostface’s. 

Chapter Summary: Due to a family emergency, Y/n is left home alone for the first time since what happened to Casey. Luckily, her good friends Billy and Stu show up to surprise her just as she’s starting to feel paranoid. 

---- 

You’d think that someone that grew up with one parent would be used to being alone, but I have very few memories of total solitude. The few times my mom hasn’t been around, there’s always been someone.

Tonight, though, it’s just me. And I’m not alone in my childhood home--I’m alone in Wells’ house. My mom says that I don’t need to think too much about the fact that we moved into his family’s home, but sometimes I still feel like a stranger here. A guest.

Ugh, I shake the thought off with a roll of my shoulders. I’m freaking myself out for no reason, and I promised my mom I’d be fine.

She didn’t want to leave me, and I can’t blame her for her hesitance, but a family emergency is a family emergency.

I would have gone with her in a heartbeat, but I had the SAT this morning. My mom offered to have Wells stay behind, but honestly, the thought of being alone with her boyfriend for days made me more uncomfortable than the thought of being alone. At least it did at the time. But now that it’s dark out, I’m starting to think it might have been a bad idea to send away the trained police officer. 

I could always call Sidney or Tatum. My mom said I could have people over, or maybe even sleepover at someone’s house. She actually wanted me to stay with a friend, but after my last sleepover, the thought of spending the night at someone’s house turns my stomach. 

Now I’m alone, and it’s almost 9:00, and I’m really upset that most of my comfort movies are horror. The last thing I need is to make myself more para--

The sound of the home phone ringing snaps me out of my thoughts. It could be my mom, but we had just talked. She called me right before I got into the shower to give me an update. I guess it wouldn’t be that weird for her to call me again. She’s nervous about leaving me alone. 

“Hi?” 

There are no words, just soft breathing. “Hey, squirt.” 

Nerves and embarrassing excitement roll in my stomach. I’m so shocked I almost forget that I’m on the phone and I need to reply. “H-hi, dad.” I sit up a little straighter. “It’s you, you’re calling.” 

“Yep,” he breathes, popping the ‘p’ and breezing past my awkwardness, “Just checking in. I just heard what happened. Your mom called, but I’m in Europe on business, and because of the timezone difference it went to voicemail. My secretary somehow missed it. I am so sorry I didn’t call sooner, are you okay?” 

My lips part, a strange amount of emotions twisting in my stomach, “I uh--I’m doing better. I wasn’t the one that was really hurt.” The thought of Casey strikes me in the chest. I cross my legs beneath me. “I-um--I missed some school because I had a concussion. A friend of mine had to convince me to go to the doctor, actually.” 

He laughs lightly, “That sounds like you.” After a second, he continues, “You still want to do the whole Princeton thing?” 

“Yeah, I-I’d like to. I’m trying to. Even took the SAT for the first time today.” 

I can hear him shuffling. “Wow, squirt, the S-A-T,” he hums each letter, “You and Charlotte are really growing up.” 

When I was at that age where kids are obsessed with princesses, I used to imagine that Charlotte was my evil step sister. She was the perfect girl in front of our parents, but there was something about the way she treated me that I couldn’t support. Her and her mother, Alice, always made it clear that my mother and I weren’t the real members of the family. 

My mom was more open about my step sister than I was, and I can imagine how hard that was. She waited around for my dad for years, and he didn’t get his life together until grandfather told him to. She stood by him through addiction and through scandal, but once grandfather said dad had to grow up, he listened. He went to Princeton for undergrad and Yale for his masters and he married the woman Grandfather set him up with.

My dad’s only defense is that my mom sent him away. What he never seems to mention is that my mom’s breaking point was him leaving me alone at some dealer’s house when I was a baby. 

“Charlotte,” I repeat, trying to hide the way the name stings, “How is she?”  

“Oh, she’s good, she just heard back from Princeton because of their rolling admission policy, she’s in.” 

Oh. Charlotte is one year older than me, so I knew that it was possible that I’d have to hear about her getting into dream schools soon. What I didn’t expect was to hear that she got into Princeton, and I didn’t expect it now. “That’s really great, dad.” 

“Yeah, she’ll get the lay of the land, and once you’re in, she’ll be able to show you around.” 

“Yeah,” I mumble, “That’d be nice.” 

Another voice steals my dad’s attention. Likely his secretary. “Hey, squirt, I gotta go. Meeting.” 

“Oh, y-yeah, dad. Talk to you later.” 

“Yes, I’ll make sure to call soon.” He pauses before tacking on, “Oh, I sent you a get well soon present this morning. It might take a few days, but I hope you like it.” 

My nails dig into the palm of my hand, “Oh, thanks, dad. Bye.” 

With that the line goes flat. I place the phone back on my bedside table before grabbing a pillow that’s by my side. Settling the pillow onto my lap, I drop my face into it. “Ugh.” The groan is strangled and dramatic, but I don’t care. 

I cannot wait to call my mom and tell her about how little miss perfect Charlotte is going to Princeton. Princeton is mine, it’s been mine my entire life. There’s a freaking poster of it in my room.

“You’re in a good mood.” 

The words make me jump out of my skin. In a second, i’m on my feet, my hands reaching for the first thing I can find. It happens to be my bedside lamp. I blink, eyes wide as my head snaps towards my window. There’s a large figure sitting on the window sill. 

“Billy! Stu!” Adrenaline is still running through me. “I could--I could have hurt you guys!” 

Billy leans against my window’s frame comfortably, lips turning upwards. “With your fuzzy lamp?” 

“Do not make fun of me.” 

“He’s not,” Stu says, “You’re super threatening. I’m shaking so much I might fall off this ledge.”

I roll my eyes, shifting awkwardly. It’s not like Stu and I haven’t talked since my little blow up in the hallway, but things haven’t been the same. I don’t know if he’s waiting for something from me or if most of it is in my head because I feel a little bad. I never thought I’d miss Stu regularly jokingly hitting on me, but I think I’m starting to.

“Haha,” I mumble after a second too long of silence. Because I need an excuse to not look at them, I turn to set my lamp back down. “What are you guys doing here anyway?” 

Billy shrugs, twisting to place his feet on the floor of my room. “Stu talked me into renting The Craft.” He stands, giving Stu the space he needs to also come into my room. “It made us think of you.” 

“You two watched The Craft?” 

“We got halfway through,” Stu admits, reaching into the black backpack he came in with, “Not my best pick.” He walks into my room casually, like climbing in through my second floor window is a regular Saturday night occurrence. “Seems like the kind of thing you’d like, though. Brought it in case you wanted something to do later.” 

He tosses the tape casually onto my bed. I stare at it for a long second, hating the fact that he knows me so well. I remember seeing trailers for The Craft and wanting to watch it. Some joke about how he’s implying that he thinks I have bad taste tries to come out, but I can’t seem to form the words. 

I don’t know if it’s the casual gesture or the fact that they showed up when I didn’t want to be alone, but an emotion I don’t really get threatens to overwhelm me. Maybe this reaction is the result of the phone call with my dad.

Stu must notice my stillness because he asks, “You okay?” 

I take large steps, moving around my bed in order to reach him. My hug must surprise him, but Stu doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around me. “I’m sorry.” 

“Sorry?” 

“Tuesday,” I mumble, “I was moody and defensive and things have felt kinda weird since then and I just want things to be normal again.” This might be a total mistake, it feels like revealing an open wound. “You’re like one of my best friends.” 

He squeezes me tighter, “One of?” 

Tilting my head up to look at him, I reply, “Don’t get greedy.” 

“Fine,” Stu mumbles after a second of pretend contemplation. 

I should pull away now, but there’s something comforting about the position we’re in. Stu’s hugs are underrated, but his ego is big enough without me telling him that. “Do you have anything you want to say to me?” 

“Mm...” He hums for a long second. “Nope, not really.” Well, getting along with him was nice while it lasted. I pull away sharply, shoving his chest when he reaches out to me. “I’m kidding,” Stu laughs, “Kidding.” I glare, trying to escape his hold. “I’m sorry, angel. I should have known that you were moody because of your head.” 

The nickname takes me by surprise. I remember it from my hazy night at the hospital. I didn’t think twice of it then. Should I think about it now? It’s not particularly weirder than any other of the other nicknames Stu’s always calling me, and they’re all the same level of flirty except maybe bug, which is only really used when he wants his way.

“My head’s hurting a lot less.” I straighten slightly, arms dropping casually as I take a step back. Stu lets me. “I even took the SAT this morning. Totally not ideal with a concussion by the way, if my scores come back and they’re bad I’m so blaming the killer.” 

“I remember your reaction at the doctor’s office.”

I turn towards Billy, who’s casually sitting on my bed like he lives here. “Yeah, not my best moment.” I scratch the back of my arm. “Thank you for making me go to the doctor, by the way. The first thing my mom said when I got home was that you must be some kind of saint to have put up with me like that. She’s always telling me that I’m a total monster when I’m sick in any capacity.”

Billy almost smiles, “So your mom likes me now?” 

“You’re making progress.” Basically a lie. My mom won’t like any boys I’m friends with until I’m a college graduate. It’s shocking enough that she tolerates them. 

“Really?” 

I shrug, slightly unsure. Stu moves to sit across from me. “You can tell your mom I’m willing to do whatever to get in her good graces.” 

Cringing, I grab a pillow from behind me and throw it at Stu. He barely manages to block it with his forearm. “She’s my mom!” 

“And she’s a total babe.” 

“You’re getting kicked out.” 

Stu holds his hands up in defense, “Don’t worry, you’re still my girl.” 

I roll my eyes, pulling my legs beneath me. “Mhm, I’ll mention that to Tatum next time she calls.”

Stu props the backpack up against the side of my bed. The way he dramatically falls across my bed is almost enough to get me to break character. He places a hand on his chest like he’s wounded. “Don’t turn this into something ugly. You know I love you both, just in different ways.” 

“I’m glad you two felt the need to sneak in through my window to tell me that.” The comment makes me think about something that they practically made me forget about. “Why did you guys come here through the window anyway?” 

“We missed you,” Billy answers with no hesitation. His tone is just a little too sweet to be genuine. When I give him a look, he tilts his head before actually answering the question, “We wanted to check in. It had been a few days, and you didn’t come back to school. You stopped answering calls. Sid told me the last two times she called you, your mom picked up and said you weren’t up for conversation.” 

Normally, the thought of people looking out for me makes me nervous. Especially when it’s a guy. I know that past friendships and family issues aren’t the kinds of things I should push onto them. They’ve been good friends. Maybe it’s okay to let people in a little more than I have in the past. Besides, they’re just worried about their high strung friend that was attacked by a murderer and then had a melt down at school, it’s not like they’re crazy for being concerned. 

“That’s nice of you guys. I’m doing better, I’ve just been...kinda disconnected lately. And honestly, I’ve been spending a lot more time doing makeup work than I’d like to admit.” My posture relaxes slightly. “You don’t need to worry.” 

“There’s also a killer on the loose, and you don’t lock your window.” 

Billy has a tiny bit of a point. In scary movies, I always get frustrated when characters are dumb. It’s the small, careless things that distinguish those that die and those that make it to the sequel. “My room’s on the second floor, I thought that’d count for something.”

“Not when the world’s easiest to climb tree is in your backyard,” Stu adds, “I thought you’d think twice about things like that.” He turns his head so that he’s staring straight up at the ceiling. “You’re always reading mystery books and the only thing you care about in movies is that there’s a final girl.” 

Great, now Stu’s right, too. “That’s not the only thing I care about.” He’s quiet, watching me with a strange level of focus. He’s weirdly calm...almost dazed. I blink, gaze shifting to watch Billy from the corner of my eye. He’s also seems a little weird. “Are you guys drunk or something?” 

Stu lets out a mock gasp. “Wow. You think that little of us?” 

My eyes narrow, focusing on the backpack I so quickly dismissed earlier. “I think that if I opened that bag I’d find beer.” 

With a wounded sigh, Stu sits up. He grabs his backpack, unzipping it casually. He reaches into it before pulling out a tall bottle. The liquid inside of it is as clear as the glass containing it. “Not exactly.” Stu unscrews the lid, taking an easy sip. He doesn’t wince as the liquid goes down his throat. “Here.” Billy shifts, reaching forward to take the bottle. “Ah--c’mon, Billy boy, let her have some. We’re being rude.” 

“It’s okay,” I interrupt quickly, “I’m good.” 

Stu frowns, extending his arm a little more. “Come on, angel, just a tiny sip. Less than a shot.” I don’t move, but my attention does shift to the bottle that’s hanging just a little too loosely from his fingers. “I won’t even tell on you to your mom.” 

I roll my eyes at what he’s so clearly implying. “I think she’d be more focused on the fact that you chose to come in through the window.” Scratching the back of my wrist, I admit, “Plus, she’s not downstairs, so you can’t tattle on me anyways.” I watch him take in the words, a part of me regretting bringing that up. “Why’d you guys come in this way anyways? I would’ve come to the door.” 

“You’ve been ignoring everyone’s calls.” Stu props his head up on his elbow. 

I look at him and then at Billy. “So this is an ambush.” 

Billy drops one of his bent legs just enough to bump his knee into mine. “A wellness check in.” 

Tamping down a grin, I roll my eyes.  “Right. Silly of me not to realize.” 

“If your mom’s not here, where is she?” 

Stu’s blatant nosiness should have been expected. “Why? You actually here for her?” 

“Jealous?” 

Pressing my back into a pillow, I fake gag.”She’s my mom, Stu.” 

He rolls his eyes at my theatrics before laying back down. I know that they must have noticed the way I ignored the question, but telling them that my mom’s not home and that she’s not going to be home for days feels a little like tempting fate now that I know they’re at least tipsy.

Billy lazily reaches for the bottle again. Stu lets him take it this time. 

“She’s in Texas, anyways.” Please tell me my voice sounds casual and not at all nervous. “That must be so sad for you.” 

I’m waiting for some kind of joke about blue balls or being heartbroken. Instead, Stu props his head up again. “So she’s not here not here?” 

The distinction sends nerves straight to my stomach and I’m not sure why. My confusion is more uncomfortable than what I’m feeling. “Yeah,” I mumble, sitting up a little straighter, “Family emergency thing. My godmother is like super pregnant with twins and just got put on bed rest. Her husband’s out of town for work this weekend, so my mom flew there to take care of her.” 

Billy’s head turns in my direction, “So it’s just you and good old step dad.” 

His lips turn upwards at my glare. “No, Wells is with her.” I shift uncomfortably at the thought of being alone with Wells with no buffer for that long. “I would’ve gone with them, but I already had the SAT scheduled and their flight was early.” 

Stu breaks the unexpected silence, “So they left you alone with a killer on the loose?” 

Shrugging, I drop my gaze to the floral pattern of my bedsheets. “It’s not like that. My godmother’s miscarried before, she’s freaked out.” My pointer finger traces the dainty pink petals sewn into the fabric. “And I just calmed myself down, so I’d appreciate it if you didn’t bring that stuff up.” 

“Relax, angel,” Stu mumbles absentmindedly, “You can stay at my place if you want. My parents aren’t home either, so it’s just me and Billy tonight.” `

Yeah, I’ve done a lot of pathetic things recently, and I don’t need to add crashing Billy and Stu’s sleepover to the list. Plus I don’t think I need to know what goes on at boys sleepovers. Living with a grown man for the first time was enough of a culture shock. “I appreciate the offer, but last time I stayed over at someone’s house kind of...” 

“We could stay here.” Stu’s offer comes out so casual, so without a second thought, I nearly get whiplash. I stare at him, waiting for him to grin or do anything that indicates that he’s joking. He does neither, instead he just looks at Billy like he’s asking him if they’re staying here. Not me.

Billy tilts the bottle in my direction, silently offering it to me. “We could hang out, make sure you fall asleep okay.” He relaxes enough to let his free hand fall. His fingertips ghost my forearm. “Pretend all you want, but I know that staying by yourself has to be bothering you a little.” 

Ugh. I hate when he’s right. Maybe a drink isn’t the worst idea right now. It might give me the confidence I need to seem okay with being home alone. I take the bottle, cautiously bringing it up to my lips with the intention of only taking a sip. The bottle tilts upwards with no warning. The unexpected amount of extra alcohol leaves me nearly sputtering. I’m forced to down two large mouthfuls to avoid spilling it all over my bed.

When I finally get the bottle away from me, the sound of laughter and the rush of straight vodka leave me flushed. “Stu!” I’m trying to yell at him, but his name is barely sputtered out between coughs. 

“What? This isn’t even 40 proof.” 

Billy glares in Stu’s direction before he sits up a little more. I let him tilt my chin up softly. His touch is feather light as he wipes excess liquid up my chin and across my bottom lip. The motion is slow, the nail of his thumb pressing into the edge of my lip, pulling it just enough for me to notice. He’s looking at me with such deliberation my stomach drops. 

Wow, I really cannot handle my alcohol. I pull away, hand gripping the side of my bed as cautiously as possible. “You suck, you know how I get when I drink.” 

I’ve only been drunk in front of them once. The entire group was together and after my first beer, I spent the rest of the night holding Tatum’s hand and whining whenever Stu tried to steal her away. He was starting to actually get annoyed with me, but I ended up getting super nauseous before he could actually get mad. The next day, he teased me to no end about being an extremely touchy lightweight. 

“You weren’t that bad,” Stu lies, hand casually reaching forward to catch my ankle. “Just touchy. Thought you and Tay were getting ready to put on a show.”

“Shut up.”

He yanks my foot towards him, placing my calf on his lap. “Make me.” 

I roll my eyes, nerves that I don’t understand rising up my chest at the silence that follows. I could laugh, but he doesn’t need that kind of encouragement, so instead I kick the foot he pulled towards him. The movement is light, more of an attempt to shake him off than anything else. Stu doesn’t take it that way. His hand moves up past my calf, fingers harshly pressing into my skin. 

I’m reminded of that night in the hospital. The way Stu gripped my thigh. Small bruises that I thought about more than I’d ever admit lingered there for days. He was joking then, and he’s joking now, but his touch feels different. More (or maybe less?) restrained. There’s also something about the way he’s looking at me. 

My head turns in Billy’s direction. “Think I could take him?” 

Billy looks at Stu and then at me. “You’d kick his ass.”

I grin openly, glad for the break from tension. Stu’s hold on my leg loosens. He’s no longer gripping onto me, but his touch is persistent as he draws patterns against my skin. The change doesn’t exactly ease me, but I’m worried trying to pull away will make things worse. Something tells me he won’t take it seriously, he’ll think I’m challenging him as a joke or something. 

“You wanna kick my ass?” Stu drags his fingers up my leg, stopping at my knee before slowly moving back down.

I shrug, “Not sure yet.” 

Stu rolls his eyes before extending the hand holding the bottle. “Decide after another sip.” When I dramatically glare at him, Stu smiles slightly. “I promise not to do anything this time. I’m still not convinced, and it doesn’t entirely have to do with Stu. I’m not sure I want to drink anymore, I’m already finding it hard to focus. “Tell her, Billy.” 

“I can’t help that she’s not an idiot.” 

Billy’s response isn’t even that funny, but I laugh freely anyways. Stu pouts at my reaction, pulling the bottle back towards him. “Fine, don’t trust me.” 

I’ve dealt with Stu’s coldness for days and he’s just starting to act normal again. The last thing I want is for there to be another fight, even if it’s just a petty one. With a roll of my eyes, I lean forward and grab the bottle. “Don’t be so dramatic,” I bring the bottle to my lips and take a quick drink. The liquid burns as it goes down. “See, I trust you.” 

Stu doesn’t relax. He just stares at me. Are his eyes darker than they were earlier or is the alcohol starting to get to me? I need an excuse to break eye contact. I raise the bottle again, taking another sip.

Billy’s touch on my back is easing, which is nice because the buzz is starting to kick in a lot stronger than I expected it to. There’s no way Stu was telling the truth when he said that the vodka’s less than 40 proof. “Have you had anything to eat?” He’s moving his hand in circles like he did when he found me in the bathroom. It’s more soothing than it should be. “Last time you didn’t you got sick.” 

His words are so calm I find myself giggling. “That’s very motherly of you.” Billy throws me a slightly irritated look. “I didn’t mean it as a bad thing, it’s nice.” My head tilts forward, the motion more drastic than I intended it to be. Billy places a hand on my cheek, stabilizing me. “I um--I ate. Ordered Pizza earlier. There’s still some in the kitchen if you guys are hungry. Or I could--could get you something to drink. My mom would be mad if she knew you guys were here, but she’d kill me if she knew I had people over and didn’t offer then anything to eat.”

Billy tilts his head downwards, a strand of hair falling forward. The urge to push it back into place leaves my fingers itching. “Does that mean you’re letting us stay?” 

What does that mean? They’ve been staying. It takes me a second to realize that he’s asking me if they’re staying the night. “It’s--” 

“Come on,” his voice is soft, his breath warm against my jaw, “We just want to help.” 

My thoughts are mush, and I’m not sure that’s just because of the alcohol. I lean back in hopes of creating some distance. “You guys can hang out,” I mumble, “But I don’t think you should stay too late. I’m kind of spacey and a little tipsy and tired. Think it’d be good for me to stay by myself tonight.” The answer feels awkward, maybe even a little risky. My eyes focus on the Princeton banner in the corner of the room. His silence is beginning to crawl under my skin. “Billy?” 

When I finally find the courage to look at him again, there’s something eerie about the blankness in his expression. His hand drops from my face. “It is getting late.” He glances at Stu, nodding his head once in the direction of the window. “Wouldn’t want to overstay our welcome.” 

I settle the bottle in my lap before wiping at my face with both hands. I should have known better. He takes things like that more personally than one would expect. Memories of the time Billy asked me if I wanted to study for our History test together after school leave me frozen in place. I had already promised to help Randy study for a math test. Billy was cold towards me for a week. 

“Billy.” He doesn’t look back at me. I scoot to the edge of my bed, placing the bottle on my nightstand. “Stu.” Stu glances at me, but says nothing. “Don’t go.” I can’t look at them. My nails dig into my bedsheets. “Come on, I-I need you guys.” 

God, I’m never drinking again. The admission is so embarrassing I can feel blood rush to my face. I don’t look up until fingers press in to the skin beneath my chin. My head is tilted upwards before I can make any kind of decision. 

“Need us?” Billy’s voice is low and unbearably patient. 

I blink up at him, unsure on how to proceed. I learned early on in our friendship that it takes little to trigger some kind of power trip in them, and that that tends to lead to meanness. But every part of that’s lost to the buzzed feeling of the alcohol doesn’t care. I nod slowly. 

I’d consider the slight uptilt of the corner of his mouth a smile if it wasn’t for the strange look behind his eye. He’s so hard to read sometimes and that just makes me resent the fact that I’ve always been an open book. He knew about my concussion before I did. “A little bit of alcohol is all it takes with you, huh?” 

His tone is so patronizing I’d pull away if I was any less fuzzy. “More than a little.” 

Billy lets out a partially amused breath. “To you.” 

“Remember how you got after two beers?” Stu sits next to me, so close our knees touch.

I shift back, forcing my eyes to stay on my lap. “That’s why I didn’t want to drink a lot, but some asshole tilted the bottle with no warning.” 

“Mean of them,” Stu agrees, shockingly amicable as he takes my hand from my lap. I watch as he messes with my fingers, curling and uncurling them like a child would with a toy. “Let us stay, bug. We’ll have fun, watch movies, I’ll go downstairs for you if you get thirsty in the middle of the night.” 

The specificness of that last part leaves me confused. I tilt my head in his direction, but Stu pays no mind to it. Billy half huffs, “I’d get you the water, Stu’s too selfish when he’s tired.” 

“Fuck you,” Stu protests, squeezing my hand once, “Maybe I’d do for it Y/n. Maybe I like her more than I like you.”

Billy barely justifies that response with a look in Stu’s direction. He then turns towards me, eyes softening slightly as he shakes his head once. Despite myself, I smile fondly. “It’s not that I don’t want you guys to stay, it’s that I don’t know if it’s okay.” 

Of course Stu’s the one to ask, “Why wouldn’t it be okay?” 

Even in my state, I know he knows exactly what I’m implying. He’s fighting a grin, enjoying the prospect of me having to say it a little too much. For once, I can’t use my mom as an excuse. There’s literally zero possibility of her finding out, she won’t be in the same state as us until Tuesday. The only way she’d find out is if I tell her and if I admit that I’m scared of letting it slip out, the mommy’s girl jokes will never end. 

“You know why,” I begin, watching Stu trace the line of my palms. “Don’t think Sid and Tatum would love the idea of their boyfriends...” He’s really going to make me say it. I resist the urge to pull my hand back into my lap and curl into myself. “...Having sleepovers with me.” 

The words are barely out of my mouth before Stu laughs. “You and Tay get up to a lot at your sleepovers?” 

The alcohol’s really getting to me because it takes me a second to understand the joke. My delayed eye roll is definitely noticed. “That’s not--it’s--” I pull my hand away, crossing my arms over my chest. “You know what I mean. It’s different.” 

“Why’s it so different?” 

That’s the kind of question I expect from Stu, but from Billy, it’s not as easy to dismiss with an eye roll and halfhearted shove. “It’d-it’d seem weird,” I whisper, “Tate and Sid--” 

“Would be happy that we’re keeping you safe. They love you.” Billy places a hand on my shoulder, his thumb brushing against the strap of my tank top. I was too distracted before to think about what I’m wearing, but now I can’t help noticing that this is the skimpiest I’ve ever worn in front of them. 

It’s not like I’m naked--but my old, elastic pajama shorts are the kind of thing I can’t wear around Wells. My tank top isn’t scandalous, but I’m too aware of the fact that I’m not wearing a bra. I also don’t love being seen in clothes like this. Two different types of insecurity strike at the same time.  

“Sid would kill me if I let anything happen to you,” Billy continues, his thumb moving up and down my skin. “C’mon.” 

This was always a losing fight. It’s kind of hard to put your foot down when it comes to something that you don’t really want. I know that my points are valid, or at least, I think they’re valid.

Maybe I am being a little dramatic. It’s not like we’re doing anything bad. Even if they didn’t have girlfriends, I really doubt either of them would see me like that. And is it so bad that I don’t want to be completely alone in this house? We’re friends, friends have sleepovers. Plus it is nighttime and they’ve been drinking, sending them to walk home could lead to something happening to them.

“Okay,” I give in, “But best behavior. My mom will kill me if she thinks you guys stayed over.”

“Aw,” Stu says, moving to rest his head on my shoulder, “Willing to keep a secret from your mom for us.” 

Instead of shaking Stu off, I rest my head against his. “Guess I like you guys.” 

“You’re cute when you’re sleepy.” 

I frown, “I’m not sleepy.” 

“Then let’s go watch a movie.” I pout when Stu moves away, “Come on, I brought options.”

Moving to sit closer to the edge of the bed, I wipe my eyes with the back of my palm tiredly. Stu brought more movies? For a spontaneous, tipsy visit, Stu seems remarkably prepared. He grabs the bottle off of my nightstand. The implications of that makes me sigh loudly. 

Billy reaches forward, grabbing my hand. “It’s easier to go along with it.” I let him help me to my feet. When I sway, Billy’s hand is quick to find my hip. “I’ll help you down the stairs.” 

I don’t protest. It’s probably for the best, anyways. Tipsy me isn’t exactly known for her coordination. 

True to his word, Billy’s hand stays on my hip as as we walk to the living room. Once we’re down the stairs, Billy’s hold on me doesn’t loosen. Stu’s already messing with the VCR by the time I’m sitting on the couch. I consider offering him some help, but decide against it. I’m comfortable, and probably too out of it to be useful.

Watching a movie feels like a good thing. Knowing them, it’s probably something scary, and they take their horror movies seriously. It’ll consume their attention, which means I’ll be able to recover from the alcohol in peace.

Stu must figure out the VCR because he stands up and walks towards us. He sits down next to me, stretching an arm over the back of the couch. “What’d you put on?”

"The Shining.” 

“Finished the book recently.” 

“Hm,” Stu hums in acknowledgement, already turning his full attention to the movie. 

The movie playing lets me relax. There’s no need to worry about doing anything stupid or embarrassing because the two of them are going to be immersed in what’s on the screen. 

Only a few minutes into the movie, Stu takes a sip from the bottle of alcohol. I almost forgot he brought that down with him. He then offers it to me without looking away from the TV. My hand wraps around the neck of the bottle. After a few sips, Billy takes it from me. He ignores the way I look at him, opting to drink even less than Stu did before setting the bottle down on the coffee table. 

I’ve watched The Shining before, and I’ve been meaning to rewatch it since finishing the book, but focusing isn’t coming easily to me right now. At least I know enough about to plot to not be confused as my thoughts tune in and out.

My head ends up on Billy’s shoulder. I don’t remember making the conscious choice to do so, but I’m comfortable and Billy doesn’t shake me off, he just brushes his knuckles up and down my leg absentmindedly. 

The longer the movie continues, the harder I find it to understand what’s going on. Maybe it’s because I’m tired, maybe it’s because the bottle somehow keeps making its way back to me.

I blink hard, trying to figure out what point of the movie we’re at. We’re not near the end, Jack Torrence hasn’t fully snapped yet, but his writer’s block is getting bad. A confident touch to my left knee snaps me out of my analysis. My head turns against Billy’s shoulder. Stu’s eyes are still trained on the movie, but his hand is on my leg, and not in a casual, mindless way, either. 

He squeezes my knee as the little boy rides his tricycle past room 237. “Stu.” His fingertips trail up my inner thigh slowly, lingering where my shorts end. I shift, unintentionally pressing myself more into Billy. Stu presses his hand down in order to keep my leg in place. “Stu.” What’s meant to be a scolding comes out too sleepy and slurred. It practically sounds like a whine.  “’M serious.” 

Stu’s nails drag up my skin. My breath catches in my throat oddly, a tiny sound slipping out. “Serious about what?” My lips part, but no words are ready to come out. “You’re okay,” he whispers, “Just watch the movie, angel.” I’m too buzzed to do anything but nod. “Want more to drink?” 

“She’s done,” Billy squeezes my forearm, “Anymore and she’ll get sick.”

The thought of drinking anymore does twist my stomach. Sometimes the way Billy reads people is a tiny bit eerie. I nod against his arm, squeezing his hand. Stu shrugs, turning back to the movie without moving his hand from my thigh.

By the time the movie’s ending, the fact that I’m aware of anything is a miracle. I only fell asleep once and woke up to the feeling of Stu squeezing my thigh. The fact that my initial reaction wasn’t to try to get him to knock it off, but to pretend to still be asleep scared me so much I didn’t let myself relax for the rest of the movie. 

"She asleep?” Stu’s voice is barely louder than the sound of still rolling credits. 

I shift against Billy in a sad attempt to sit up fully with no support. “Still awake,” my voice is too drowsy, I try a little harder to sit up before wiping my eyes. “’M up.”

Billy keeps a hand on my arm in an attempt to help stabilize me. “Clearly.” I try throwing a sarcastic look in his direction, but it feels kind of pathetic. “Let’s get you to bed.” 

Stu grabs my hand, pulling on my arm before I can respond. They help me stand and stay up. They’re attentive as we move up the stairs, pausing and holding me a little tighter each time I threaten to sway or stumble. I’m barely there by the time we get to my room.

The second I see my bed, I abandon them both in favor of finding my mattress. I stumble, pulling back my sheets before laying down. Billy sits down on the other side of the bed. I roll onto my stomach in order to reach for him. My hand falls short, but Billy moves to compensate for my lethargy. 

I can barely lift my head off of the mattress, “Hi.” 

His hand is on my back, moving in small circles. “Hi,” he echoes. I smile at nothing in particular as I try to keep my eyes open. “You need sleep.” 

With a laugh, I turn onto my back. Billy moves his hand away, looking at me sternly as I continue to giggle. “Astute observation.” I lazily try to wipe the sleep from my eyes. “Weird word, huh?” Using the last of my energy to sit up, I laugh again. The sound gets cut short by a yawn. “Never really thought about it before the SAT.” 

“Uh-huh,” Stu starts, placing a hand on my shoulder, “You spent who knows how long with your nose in an SAT prep book, we get it. Now go to sleep.” 

My head lulls to the side, mainly subconscious protest must be visible on my face because Stu pushes against my shoulder and that’s all it takes for my back to fall flat against my bed. My eyes go wide in surprise. I shift like I want to sit up, but then decide to just roll onto my side. “That wasn’t nice.” 

He sits next to me, “I’ll make it up to you in the morning.” My eyes are now shut but I can hear his movements. The feel of a hand brushing against my side should alarm me more. I open my eyes just enough to see Stu lying next to me. “Promise.” 

I hum vaguely in agreement, nodding my head more into my sheets than anything else. I’m so close to sleep I barely register the feeling of Billy’s hand against my back, moving in the same circular motions as before.

The last thing I register before falling fully asleep is the light getting turned off and long fingers brushing against my neck. I’m in a state that’s more dream than reality when something oddly sharp--but not painful--quickly brushes against my neck. Before I can think about it, I’m pulled under. 

----

Narrator’s POV

Stu can’t help it. He’s been trying to keep it together all night, trying to pace himself and hold onto the way he’s supposed to act, but it’s been getting increasingly harder around you. Especially tonight.

The urge to break character, in a sense, isn’t his fault. Not really. How is he supposed to focus and play best friend’s boyfriend when you’re everywhere? The postures and pictures on your wall, the overflowing, well loved bookshelf in the corner, and your sheets. The dainty floral pattern, the softness of the cotton, and the way that they smell so much like you. He can’t stop imagining what it’d feel like to press your face into them as you took him from behind. 

He thought being in your room would be easy. It’s not like he’s never checked it out before, but only while you weren’t home. But being here with you? A drunk, touchy, needy you? Almost impossible. He’s been trying to hide how hard he is all night. 

But now you’re asleep, and the alcohol he kept getting you to drink is guaranteed to keep you that way until late morning. His hands have been all over you since he first realized that your breathing evened out. He moves one hand to palm himself over his pants. His free hand trails down your side, squeezing your hip. 

“Go to sleep.” Billy’s voice isn’t tired, just a little flat, and maybe a tiny bit annoyed.

 Stu recognizes the lack of demand in Billy’s tone and decides that his words are more of a ‘knock it off’ than a serious ‘stop’. “Like you’re not hard.” Stu’s fingers brush against the hem of your shorts. “Y/n said she needed us and then spent two and a half hours basically laying on top of you.” Stu slips his hand beneath the waistband of his pajama pants, knowing that with a few more words he could finally get some release. “Remember yesterday?” Stu groans, his hand moving down his length. “You came to the thought of that.” 

Billy stays still, ignoring a feeling he’s been in control of since early in the night. “It’s too soon.” He glances at you, so tired and so needy. “We push anymore tonight and we won’t be able to blame it on drinking.” Your breath flutters slightly, your chest expanding a bit more than usual. “If she thinks anything’s up she won’t talk to us anymore. She’s still too close to Sidney and Tatum.” 

“Relax,” Stu sighs, his hand moving a little bit faster, “Sh-she drank enough to keep her knocked out until tomorrow. Fuck.” Stu turns his head at the sound of Billy moving. He frowns dramatically when he realizes that the movement was just Billy brushing his knuckles over your cheek in order to sooth you and make sure you’re still sleeping comfortably. “You’re babying her, we should just talk her into it already.” Stu likes the thought of that more than he can put into words. The three of you, like it should be. “Should’ve felt her when my hand was on her thigh. She--fuck--she was shaking, pretending to be asleep.” 

Billy lets out a breath, reaching over for Stu lazily. You don’t even shift at the motion. “You think I’m babying her, but she’s the one that has you wrapped around her finger.” 

Stu parts his lips to protest, but Billy pushes his hand beneath the waistband of Stu’s pants before he can get the words out. “Shit,” Stu’s breath hitches, “Fuck you, Y/n lets me do whatever I wan-want.” Billy moves his hand at a pace that’s agonizing. “She wouldn’t stop me if I-” 

Stu cuts himself off with a groan. Billy finishes the sentence for him, “If you spread her legs apart, pulled those tiny shorts to the side, and ate her out until she’s crying.” With each word, Billy picks up his pace, indifferent to Stu’s whines. “You want to do that?” 

“Yes,” Stu doesn’t hesitate, “Fuck, yes.” 

“She’d squirm under you like before.” God, Stu’s practically seeing stars. “She’d let us fuck her like a whore.” 

Stu bites his tongue to suppress a whine, his fingertips digging into your hip. “Shit, I’m close.” 

Billy moves his hand up, pulling it away from Stu slowly. He ignores Stu’s whine. “Go to sleep.”

----

Taglist: @cole22ann @womenarecannibals @fand0mskullfa1ry @princessleah129

#scream #scream x reader #scream 1996 #billy loomis #billy loomis x reader #stu macher #stu macher x reader #ghostface #ghostface x reader #poly!ghostface #poly! ghost face x reader #x reader #final girl fic

[monstersandmaw]

Male werewolf x female character (Gabe & Odessa) - Part Nineteen (nsfw)

Disclaimer which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

___

Thank you so much if you commented or reblogged with tags on the last one! This Christmas Day update is for you specifically :). It’s a bit of an ‘in-between’ chapter, and things are going to start wrapping up soon. I’ve now finished writing it all, and each chapter now just needs an edit before uploading. There are three more after this one, and as ever, I look forward to your feedback and reactions. Thank you for beta-reading it for me, as it were!

Content: The full moon is still looming, Gabe & Odessa spend their last few days in and around Pinewatch, and Odessa learns a little about what it’s like for Gabe on the full moon. Wordcount: 4832

Catch up here:

Part One (sfw), Part Two (sfw), Part Three (sfw), Part Four (sfw), Part Five (sfw), Part Six (sfw) Part Seven (sfw), Part Eight (sfw), Part Nine (sfw), Part Ten (sfw), Part Eleven (nsfw), Part Twelve (sfw), Part Thirteen (sfw), Part Fourteen (nsfw), Part Fifteen (nsfw), Part Sixteen (nsfw), Part Seventeen (sfw), Part Eighteen (v. light nsfw), 

Odessa’s last few days in Pinewatch passed in a blur.

When it wasn’t raining, they took the wolf-dogs for walks from Gabe’s house, visiting the meadow by the river from one of their earlier walks a couple of times since the dogs seemed to enjoy it almost as much as Odessa did.

There was something about the way the meadow opened up once they crossed the stepping stones over the stream that sparked an aching in Odessa’s chest, especially on that last time as she stood with her hand in Gabe’s and the dogs snuffling through the meadow and following the scents left behind like the ghosts of the rabbits and deer and foxes that had nosed through the grasses in the night. All around her, the wide, broad sweep of grass had been leached of summer colour to leave faded strands of pale gold dotted with rattling seed heads and prickling teasels, and beyond the boundary of the clearing, tall pine trees stood sentinel.

“There’s a hawk over there, watching us,” Gabe whispered in her ear and she jumped at the sound of his voice after so long in stillness.

“Where? I can’t see anything but trees…”

He smiled and took his time pointing it out while Thunder loped over to the trees to investigate. The movement disturbed it, and the bird took flight in an affronted flap of coffee coloured wings before wheeling away westwards over the forest and out of sight.

Odessa turned and laid her cheek against his chest. He was wearing a light, woollen jumper, and the humble warmth of him in the cold autumn day was wonderful against her body. “If you’d asked me a year ago, I never would have imagined myself saying this,” she said, “But I would honestly love to live somewhere like this now.” She was thinking of his cosy house, nestled in the shelter of the pine trees a few miles away down the valley.

Gabe’s answering smile was accompanied by a flash of gold and a laugh. He hugged her and tipped backwards a little, arching his spine so that her feet left the floor and she whooped a laugh and clung to him, and when he set her down, she found Mia boinging up and down on the spot and snapping her jaws in her own way of laughing.

“I knew you’d warm up to me eventually, princess,” Odessa grinned at the dog, who immediately sneezed and trotted off with her tail held high. Axel looked from Mia to Odessa as if to apologise for his haughty sister, and then slunk off into the brambles around the edge of the open meadow to find Thunder.  

They watched the dogs for a while, but when the clouds started to drift in, they headed back home and curled up to read together on the sofa in his living room, tangled up beneath a simple, cream coloured, knitted blanket.

When rain put pay to their walks on those last remaining days, Gabe drove them into town instead.

They drank coffee together, with their fingers interlaced on the tabletop, and Odessa mapped and learned all the little nicks and scars on his tanned hands from his work outdoors and from running as a wolf through the woods. They ate blackberry cupcakes from Marco’s until they thought they might burst and even Gabe said he’d had enough, all the while chatting and filling in the incidental details of their lives that hadn’t yet come up, while rain made wavering silver bars on the cafe windows. Laughing, they darted from shop to shop, jostling together under the shelter of Gabe’s old jacket, and despite the wet weather, the frizzing hair, the damp clothes, the chilly feet, and the looming knowledge of her imminent departure, Odessa felt happy to her core for the first time in months.

She shrieked and squirmed when an errant raindrop plopped down the back of her neck, and the pair of them drew scowling looks of censorious disapproval from elderly Mrs. MacFarlane up the street when Gabe suddenly snatched Odessa around the middle and pulled her into an empty doorway just to kiss her silly.

He smiled between kisses as he pressed her up against the cold brickwork and she gasped when he rolled his hips once against hers before drawing back, only to return a second later to mouth and bite deliciously at her neck behind the curtain of her dark curls. “I love you,” he whispered, the words barely audible above the rain.

She kissed him back, and she watched his eyes roll closed with a deep, private groan. “What?” she asked.

He nosed at her temple and inhaled deeply, and his fingers tightened where they’d dropped to her hips. “I love the smell of you in the rain,” he rasped against her skin and Odessa blushed. “Can’t get enough of you.”

Joy suffused her expression and she laughed quietly, and it only doubled when she caught sight of Mrs. MacFarlane’s continued shock at their behaviour over Gabe’s shoulder. “I think we’re about to be reported for antisocial behaviour, Gabe,” she giggled in his ear, biting his earlobe and drawing a spontaneous, growling moan from him. That close up, he sounded like a motorbike when his inner wolf growled at her, and she adored it.

He did step back though, and when he turned around and spotted what Odessa was referring to, he laughed and waved jovially at the old woman, as though they hadn’t just been caught rutting against each other in a doorway like teenagers behind the bike sheds.

Mrs. MacFarlane pouted and shook her head as she trundled off in the opposite direction, and when Gabe turned back to Odessa she watched his eyes flare playfully from hazel to gold for a few seconds. “You know, I used to be a respectable member of this community til you came along?” he smirked.

“Corrupting the sweet woodland boy with my evil city ways,” she crooned. “Come on. Take me back home and you can have your way with me there instead.”

He held her hand as they trotted back to his truck through the rain, and he didn’t stop smiling the whole way home.

Appropriately enough, on her very last full day in Pinewatch, they awoke to rain sheeting out of the sky in torrents. After a morning feeling tense and caged and trapped in the house, feeling like they were just waiting for the hours to tick by until the sun set on her final day, Gabe suggested a distraction in town once more, and she practically leapt at it.

Gabe took her to a cute arts and crafts shop that had been closed until then, and in the back corner, she found an oil painting which drew her up short.

“Look,” she breathed, staring at the painting in her hands, and Gabe turned from where he’d been idly browsing some autumnal decorations a few feet away.

A slow-dawning, thousand-watt smile spread across his face when he saw the painting’s subject, and he came over to stand beside her. He kissed her temple and splayed his fingers across the small of her back in a private display of affection.

“It’s the rock where I first met Wolf,” she whispered, looking up at him with wide eyes. “Isn’t it? The one on the path behind the cabin?”

Gabe nodded.

Odessa didn’t think twice about it. She bought the painting.

It was only small, perhaps eight inches across, including the width of the dark, chunky, antiqued frame, but that only made it more magical and more intimate. The rounded boulder sat in a soft wash of warm sunlight, and the grass around it seemed to move and sway if she didn't look directly at it. It felt like looking into a camera obscura and glimpsing a moment in the past.

Sitting in the passenger seat of Gabe’s truck after a late lunch at Marco’s, while the rain still pounded relentlessly on the roof like a drum, she stared unseeing at the protective brown paper wrapping which was now spotted with raindrops. She ran her hands idly around the edges of the parcel, feeling the contours and details of the frame beneath her fingertips, and sighed expansively.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Gabe asked after climbing in and shutting the door with a gentle click. She got the impression he’d been looking at her for longer than she’d realised.

“Hmm?”

He smiled and her eye was caught by the soft, glinting light off the water droplets in his hair. It had gone curly in the rain, though not as wild as hers had. “I said, a penny for your thoughts?” he smiled.

“Oh.” Her gaze dropped back to the parcel and she sighed a second time. “I was just… I mean… looking at this is a bit like reliving the moment I found out about you,” she said. “About what you are, I mean. It’s… It’s like replaying the magic of it all over again.”

“Magic?” he said with a little snort of fond laughter. “You didn’t seem to think it was very magical at the time. The way I remember it, I scared the living shit out of you in the dark, and you nearly cracked your head open falling into the river.”

She had to laugh at that, but it petered out quickly. “No,” she said when she stopped. “You’re right, but… I didn’t mean it like that.”

Gabe sobered a little and asked a question with the tiniest shift in his eyes.

Odessa smiled at him again. “I just… I don’t really know how to explain it properly,” she huffed. “When I saw this painting, it reminded me of the moment I realised I’d found what I’ve been looking for my whole life, without even realising it — without… knowing what was even missing to start with, you know?”

You.

Gabe swallowed thickly and nodded. “Yeah,” he rasped and took her hand in his and squeezed. “I know.”

The short drive back to his house passed in silence; Odessa lost in thought as she cradled her new painting in her lap, and Gabe concentrating on the road while the rain thrashed down. “Hope this clears before you go back tomorrow,” he commented. “I don’t like the chances of your little VW on the roads round here.”

“I’ll be careful,” she said.

“I know.”

They raced inside but still ended up drenched, and Odessa left the painting on the dining table while Gabe went to run her a bath to warm her up. She draped her damp clothes over a radiator to dry them off and stepped into the steam of the bathroom a while later. Despite the gorgeously hot water though, she felt a lingering cold in her bones that had nothing to do with the grim weather of advancing autumn.

Gabe was still downstairs when she emerged from his en suite, and she began to dress herself mechanically, feeling oddly detached and stressed at the thought of leaving in the morning. Gabe came upstairs a few minutes later and found her sitting on the bed in just her jeans and her bra, staring listlessly at the floorboards with her t-shirt held limply in her hands.

Her crossed to her and when she looked dolefully up at him, he knelt between her legs and ran his hands up her thighs. “I know,” he said. “We’ll figure it out.”

She let her fingers rake through his wavy, salt and pepper hair, nails scraping deliciously over his scalp while he knelt with his head in her lap and his arms hugging her hips. The action calmed her a little, but her heart still thudded in her chest.

“You want me to shift?” he asked without looking up.

She paused. She did, but instead she just said, “Only if you want to.”

After a moment’s hesitation, he shook his head. “Not this close to a full moon shift, if I don’t have to.”

“Then don’t. This is more than enough.” And it was.

He kissed her thighs through her jeans and finally sat back on his heels. When he looked up at her, his eyes were gold. She motioned with her head for him to come and join her on the bed, and he slid his arm around her middle and tugged her down to lie on the covers with her back pressed against his stomach while he curled around her.

“Can I ask you about the full moon?” she ventured after a moment of just lying there in his arms while he breathed in the scent of her hair.

“Of course.”

Embarrassed, she prefaced her question with a quick huff of laughter. “Bear in mind I’ve only got movies and stuff to go on…”

Patient as ever, he just nodded.

“Does the full moon mean you have to shift? Does it affect you differently?”

He nodded a little, the movement brushing his nose through her curls. He drew her hair aside and kissed the nape of her neck before answering. “Yeah. We don’t shift uncontrollably, though,” he amended. “We can still remain human if we need to, but it’s right there — always a hair-trigger away. We’d have been wiped out a long time ago by hunters if we couldn’t stay hidden once every month if we really had to, and the wolves who live in the city would have a really hard time of it, but it’s just there,” he said again, and he curled the fingers of his left hand into a fist and flexed them again, like he was working stiffness out of his knuckle joints. “It makes us ache and itch and we don’t feel like we fit into our skin anymore. We become a lot more like our wolf selves too, mentally, even if we don’t shift.”

Odessa tried to hide a smile at that, but when he saw it over her shoulder, he hummed curiously and she let the smile become a giggle. “I’m not sure I can handle Human-Wolf-Gabe. You’ll just be too adorable.”

“I’ll be all over you like a rash,” he growled, and he didn’t sound exactly pleased about it. His usually sweet expression turned sour and he sighed. She turned onto her back and his hand traced the movement to land on her stomach instead. “I’ll be… not ‘possessive’ of you exactly, but I’ll want to touch you. A lot,” he said and he circled his palm absently over her stomach even as he said it. “And I won’t like it if someone comes near you if you’re not comfortable with it.”

“I’d hope you wouldn’t like that anyway,” she remarked dryly, remembering how he’d dealt with Jake that night when she’d felt threatened.

He tilted his head in a ‘point taken’ kind of way, and exhaled heavily. “I’ve kind of forgotten what it’s actually like to be around a wolf at the full moon though,” he muttered. “I usually shift once the sun sets, and spend the night in the woods, if I’m honest.”

“What about the dogs?”

“They stay here. They normally like running with me when I shift, but I’m not able to look out for them in the same way on the full moon. I’m not fully aware of everything in the same way.”

“When exactly is the full moon?”

“It’s… tomorrow night,” he said. His eyes were still bright gold and she wondered if he even realised.

Odessa glanced out of the window, where the dark pines around the edge of the clearing in front of his house danced and waved in the late afternoon rain that was still hurling itself from the flat, silver-grey sky. “Will you be ok?” she asked in a whisper. “I mean, I know you don’t lose control or anything, but…”

“I’m not going to run all the way to the city to find you,” he said with a wry smile at the corner of his lips and a kiss on her forehead. “If that’s what you’re thinking.”

She wasn’t about to admit that it had been.

“And you’re not going to wake up to a monstrous wolf at your door and animal control on the way.”

“Just checking,” she said, cheeks heating. “I guess I could stay? If it would be easier?”

Gabe seemed to give it serious thought, but eventually he shook his head. “No. I think it’s probably best if… if you’re not here this time. If that’s alright?”

“Of course it is,” she said, though she couldn’t help the slight sting of disappointment. Still, she’d experienced a lot of his wolf side in the two weeks she’d been with him, and he’d opened up a lot to a stranger already. “You’re the werewolf… it’s your call.”

He smiled and kissed her forehead. “You warmed up a bit now?”

She nodded. “Snuggling definitely helped.”

“Snuggling always helps,” he grinned, and yanked her right up against his body again. He started to scent her once more, and let out a long, low hum of satisfaction.

A few minutes later, Gabe’s ancient, indestructible Nokia buzzed to life on the bedside table behind him, the little blue brick of Stone Age technology vibrating obnoxiously, and both of them jumped and laughed. He rolled away with a reluctant grunt and read the message.

“Everything ok?”

“Mmm. Tala messaged,” he said. “Asking if we wanted to join a few people at the Boar and Hart tonight for dinner since it’s your last night.”

She swallowed and then nodded. It all felt terribly final again. “You’ll have to take me back to the cabin to change first,” she said. “These clothes are all crumpled after getting wet.”

“You look fine, but we can leave early and go via there.”

They still had hours until then, and what had started as tender, chaste affection soon stoked to a slow but white-hot passion. It began with Gabe running his hands up and down her torso, skimming the soft rolls around her belly and caressing her breasts over the soft, black fabric of her very ordinary bra, to him kneeling on the bed between her parted legs and kissing her inner thighs through her jeans while Odessa scraped her nails gently over the nape of his neck again. When Gabe undid the button of her jeans with careful precision, and drew down her underwear enough for him to kiss the dark hair right above her clit, he moaned and she lifted her hips.

He drew off her jeans and her underwear and she lay back again. Still kneeling, Gabe slid his palms under her thighs, cupping them and squeezing the muscle until she gasped and parted her legs even further for him. He laved his tongue over her and groaned as he tasted her. His nose nudged her clit as he slipped his tongue inside her, and when she gasped and tipped her head back into the pillows, he focused his tongue on her clit again and closed his lips around it in a way that had her crying out and shuddering.

After a while, Gabe sat back and drew off his grey t-shirt and ditched it on the floor, and Odessa drank in the sight of him; of his lean, lithe, outdoor body with its lingering tan lines from the summer and the sprinkling of greying hair across his chest; of the way he moved with all his wolfish focus still on her, as if his own body was merely an afterthought. He was fully hard when he returned to the bed beside her, but instead of letting him have his way with her, Odessa decided to enjoy him first.

She shook her head and smiled, turning her head towards the pillows beside her to get him to lie down next to her. Werewolves, she had quickly come to realise, were creatures that spoke as much with physical gesture as they did vocal language, and he understood immediately.

Lying on his back, with his hands quietly at his sides and his legs slightly parted, cock hard and already starting to weep clear pre-come onto his lower abs, Gabe lay there and stared golden-eyed at her, waiting to find out her will.

She ran her hands up his legs, feeling the way they shivered minutely under her touch, as though every cell in his body was attuned to her, and she let her thumbs trace the jutting outline of his hips. She cupped his balls in her warm palm and gripped the base of his cock briefly before working the shaft in her hand and groaning at just how hard he was for her. He thrust his head back into the pillows and let out an inhuman growl that filled the room and vibrated through her whole body, all the tendons in his neck and the muscles in his shoulders standing proud as he tensed and shivered and exhaled roughly.

“Love that sound, Gabe,” she whispered and it grew louder. “Yes, like that. Don’t hold it back. I want to hear you, Gabe.”

“Odessa,” he hissed between panting gasps.

“My wolf…”

His spine arched and one leg bent and drew up at the knee before he straightened it again, heel driving into the sheets and rucking up the duvet. He desperately wanted more but seemed just content enough for the time being to lie there and let her enjoy him. She loved him all the more for that just then.

Before she made him come from her hand alone, she leaned down over his torso and pressed her naked body flush against his, her breasts resting against his chest, her wet, burning core sliding along the hard length of him. Gabe’s self-control fractured just a little more and he grabbed her hips and kneaded the softness of her arse hard enough that it almost hurt, grinding her down against his hard cock for a little relief.

She kissed his collarbones and his pecs, and then brought both hands to the base of his skull and scrunched his hair, pulling it with unyielding slowness until he let out another sound that was halfway between a moan and a howl. He rutted his pelvis upwards, his hard cock sliding through her wetness, and he gasped her name again, pulling her as close to him as he could without actually being inside her yet.

They moved slowly, savouring the intensity of every motion, and before too long they were both out of breath.

“Oh God, Odessa,” he whimpered, showing thick canines as the shift started to creep over him. “I need you, please…”

“You have me,” she smiled, kissing him full on the mouth. Then she used his shoulders to push herself upright, and after one final, slick roll along the length of his cock, she sank down onto him.

The sound he made as he slid slowly into her tight heat struck her to the core and he curled his torso slowly up towards her, abs clenching, lost in how good she felt, eyes rolling back. “You’re perfect,” he hissed through clenched teeth. “God, Odessa, you’re everything. I can’t — I —”

She rose up before he could slide all the way inside her, and when she sank down again, he all but sobbed.

Taking her time, Odessa watched him unravel beneath her.

Sometimes his spine arched right off the bed, head pressing back into the pillows, while other times he curled upwards towards her, his hands caressing her breasts and then guiding her the motion of her hips until he fell back again, rendered weak and gasping as she tensed her muscles around him and rocked in a certain way that made his eyes flare brighter.

When he began to shake and snarl uncontrollably, she picked up her pace, leaning forward a little to brace one hand on his solid shoulder while she rocked and raised her hips. She felt the sharp prick of claws at her hips and on her thighs and looked up to find his lips drawn back to reveal thick canines. His silver-brown hairline crept a little further forward over his temples and his beard reached a little higher up his cheeks, and he swore.

Heaving growls filled the room, reverberating through her ribs.

“Odessa,” he said in a much deeper and rougher voice than usual. It felt almost primal as he growled, “I’m so close. Please, come with me… I —” He cut off, and his body bucked and shuddered again as pleasure and the need to shift warred inside him.

She realised he couldn’t properly touch her body without hurting her, his claws preventing him from making her come with his hands, and it was that which was driving him wild with frustration. A fond smile grew across her lips and she paused to lean down and kiss his forehead. He snarled at her, but it was mostly laughter, and she apologised for breaking the rhythm by clenching her muscles around him again and sinking as far down onto his cock as she could, grinding her hips in a decadent circle that made both of them gasp.

“Oh God, Odessa, please,” he begged, breathless and desperate.

“Take over for me?” she said, going still and bringing her fingertips to her aching, swollen clit while bracing up on her thighs to give him room to move beneath her. At the slick relief of her fingertips against her core, she moaned and Gabe immediately started to drive his hips up into her in a frantic rhythm.

He caught her just so with every upward thrust, and the snarling, animal, inhuman growls that poured out of him and filled the room only intensified her pleasure. Dizzy with how good it felt to be this close to him, she began to moan and cry out, her left hand still gripping his shoulder for balance and stability while he drove himself repeatedly upwards into her. “I’m going to come, Gabe,” she gasped, head bowing forwards, dark hair forming a curtain of curls over one shoulder. With a little effort, she pushed herself back on her hips to drive him deeper still.

“Close too,” he growled around a mouthful of fangs. “God you feel so good. You’re perfect. I love you, Odessa. I’m yours. I love you, I love you—” he chanted it over and over and then with a rictus snarl he drove up into her one last time and spilled with a muffled grunt.

She could feel his cock spurting and emptying inside her while his body rocked with the force of his orgasm, and with a final couple of nudges against her own clit, she spasmed around him with a broken yell that must have left his ears ringing.

Still coming, Gabe held her close, pulling her hips down onto his cock as if to keep her as near as physically possible for as long as he could. His jaw was clenched, his chest and neck flushed, and his forehead came up to meet her neck while he rocked and growled through his ongoing orgasm. His dark claws pricked into her flesh, only adding to the searing pleasure coursing through her whole body.

Odessa came so hard her vision whited out, but when she finally stopped twitching and moaning, she slumped down onto his chest and listened to his pounding heartbeat for a long time. His cock still occasionally pulsed inside her but his claws retreated and he began to run his fingertips up her sides and across her back, heedless of the sweat that stippled her spine and the little, skittering spasms that shivered through her.

When the wolf had retreated completely from his eyes, he opened them and gazed at her. “You alright?” he croaked.

“Mmmph,” she mumbled and kissed his neck.

A broken moan left him at the press of her lips against his hammering pulse and he resumed his quiet admiration of her body with gentle hands until he eventually began to soften, and she worried about making a mess on the relatively clean sheets. He tried to protest that it didn't matter, but she was having none of it, and eventually he let her get up.

Odessa — very deliberately — only cleaned up as much as necessary to be comfortable before she dressed again, and when she came back into the room and caught the way his nose lifted just a fraction while he sat on the edge of the bed, she smiled with calculated innocence.  

He shook his head and smirked at her.

She crossed to him and stood between his parted knees, and held his face in her hands. His short beard was soft against her palms and she experienced an almost overwhelming wave of affection for him as he stared up at her and smiled.

“I love you too, Gabe,” she whispered, and then she kissed him.

__

Next Chapter -->

I wish you a joyous festive season, and if you don’t celebrate, I hope you have a warm and cosy day all the same. Thanks for reading this far in their story, and I hope that you’ll consider reblogging this as well as leaving a like if you enjoyed it.

Take care, and I hope you have a lovely day/night wherever you are, and whenever you read this.

Masterlist | Ko-fi (tip jar)

#gabe & odessa #werewolf #male werewolf #male werewolf x female character #werewolf boyfriend #exophilia #monster boyfriend #werewolf romance #shifter romance

[trulybetty]

Sunday Week In Review on a Monday

How is everyone doing? Did we make it through the last week? Those who got a long weekend I hope it was a good one! Yesterday was a clusterfuck and I had the mother of all naps - the type where you wake up and don't know where you are let alone what day of the week it is lol.

So here is Sunday's Week in Review, on a Monday edition! 💕

Truly Betty Updates This Week…

Strings IV

Sequins

First Sentence Game

Fics I Enjoyed This Week…

A Girl Walks Into a Bookstore (Ezra) by @oonajaeadira

While I’m still undecided if I truly enjoy Prospect, I absolutely do love a good Ezra fanfic and this one doesn’t disappoint. It started as a late-night read last Sunday when I was the only one awake and once I started I couldn’t stop. It also seems to have popped up for a lot of other readers as I’ve seen it all over my dash since. @oonajaeadira master list is a joy to go through on Sundays at the moment. 

Until Now, Until You | Chapter 1 (Javier Peña) by @wildemaven

This was all the right levels of sexy and spicy and leaving you wanting more and I can’t wait to see how this plays out when the two run into one another again!

Leave off Your Wanderings (Joel Miller) by @oonajaeadira

This series is a total balm to my TLOU2 feels - this is the ending Joel deserved (and in my mind the official sequel to TLOU) and in the third instalment the autumn vibes are warm and cozy, and the build-up between Joel and Songbird is soft in all the right places. This whole series is a warm gentle hug and the writing is so good - definitely check this one out.

Hungry Hearts | Atlantic City (Joel Miller) by @atinylittlepain

I’m sad that this series is nearing its end, but that means I get to go back and read it again. Between flashbacks of young Joel with baby Sarah we’ve got Cherry and Joel reconciling in present day and never knew mini-vans could be so sexy, so check it out!

The Layover | Epilogue (Frankie Morales) by @goodwithcheese

This finale was bittersweet - it has been such a pleasure to follow this story, so much so that it was a highlight of my week. The story wraps up in a way that is perfect for reader x Frankie with them both on pace with one another. It’s done so perfectly that I read it more than once. I will be revisiting this story for sure.

Late Night Texts | Epilogue (Javier Peña) by @mvtthewmurdvck

Another fantastic story that came to a close this week *sigh*, this was just  the perfect ending. This story is a delicious rom com romp and I know will hold up to multiple reads. I don’t want to give anything away if you’ve not read it, but it’s a delight.

The Window (Dave York) by @wildemaven

This was a delight to read and Heidi crafts a great story of longing from a distance that has a soft ending that is all enveloping and lends itself to multiple reads. 

Bush Pilot (Frankie Morales) by @legendary-pink-dot

Oh boy, this one *fans self* this one was something else. Frankie taking you to see the sunrise but makes you see stars instead in the back of his truck. Oomph, all kinds of good spicy smut here that lends itself to a second read… or three ;) 

sam and diane, eat your heart out (Marcus Pike) by @chronically-ghosted

I could easily be biased as this was written based on the prompts I sent Taylor - however, Taylor blew it out of the park with our boy Marcus! This was spicy in all the right places and honestly, I would love to see more of these two. This is a take on Marcus Pike x Reader that I haven’t seen before and it will be on my perma reread list that is for sure! Also, peep the Cheers reference, *squee*

IRL | Part 2 (Javi Gutierrez)  by @grogusmum

I’ve had a hard time finding some good Javi G. fanfics, but this one here is so good in its characterization. The story of Javi meeting Reader for the first time since meeting online, is incredibly sweet and I had been waiting in anticipation for this second chapter since I finished the first. It’s also one of the few plus sized reader fanfics that nails it without going over the top and making the character a stereotype. I have this bookmarked to go back and re-read this week, because that ending has been living rent free in my head all week.

Private Dick (Tim Rockford) by @wardenparker

Speaking of plus size reader interpretations - this was one of the few that really resonated with me. I haven’t come across many Tim Rockford fanfics (if you have any others, please send them my way) - but this felt like a perfect interpretation - great at reading situations, until they’re too close to him, but he’s in a process of redeeming himself through his relationship with Reader.

Fics I’m Looking Forward to Reading…

My TBR List is still a work in progress, will share it when it’s done 💕

Light Me Up (Benny Miller) by @musings-of-a-rose

Thanks to Jess and Heidi I seem to be straying into Benny territory this week and have been recommended this story to dip my toe further in. I mean the opening premise alone is enough to have me excited to get stuck in!

Double Dealings (Javier Peña & Ezra) by @julesonrecord & @stardustandskycrystals

1920’s, New Orleans and the potential of two Pedro characters? I cannot wait to get stuck into this one this week over my morning coffee this week!

Posts I Enjoyed This Week…

@shirks-all-responsibilities reminding me of my grumpy Joel (Pedro) header for the mobile layout of my blog. Now has me thinking about making a seasonal one now! September is Halloween Eve of course! 🎃

@wildemaven’s early morning thot post that just took on a life of it’s own 🥵

@rhool’s live blog of the pilot of the Pedro show that never was ‘The Sixth Gun’ entertained me while I had a tame evening watching something Mr. Truly wanted to watch while sipping on a non-alcoholic beer lol.

Things I’ve Enjoyed This Week…

The long weekend - didn’t do anything, no one slept through the night, but there’s something satisfying waking up on a Monday and knowing you don’t have to work.

Saturday’s interactions and posts were a delight to go through and helped my Saturday working go by so much quicker and made for a more enjoyable day.

This Week’s Song…

This recommendation came from @gnpwdrnwhiskey who told me it was Dieter x Bryony coded and it totally is. I’ve listened to this on repeat and I’m dying to revisit these two again, and have something up my sleeve 🎃

Hope everyone has a great week this week and Monday is treating you well! 💕 xx

#betty's sunday in review #Spotify

[butchsophiewalten]

Findjackwalten 07/14/23 Update Walkthrough

Last night Findjackwalten updated! We've got one page update and two new pages. Let's start:

Findjackwalten.com

Our main page has updated! Jack and Rose's pictures are gone, and the whole page is greyed out now as opposed to being red. The shutdown text has changed to read "You just couldn't stay home, could you?". The play button here still works, with all new audio. It's a car radio, first it's an afternoon weather report, then just some talk radio intermission, and then it's music. There's also car noise, tires on asphalt, chair squeaks, turn signal, and general Car Creaking.

I've already seen some people theorize that this is audio from Felix's drive home after the crash, but that doesn't make a lot of sense to me since that's already what Guilty is. Feels redundant, as much as I love the idea of Felix driving home listening to Yummy Yummy Yummy by Ohio Express.

Findjackwalten.com/martinguaridasecretanoentrar

This page's URL and title is in Spanish. It just means "Martin secret lair do not enter" and the title "q pasa tia" in this context is like, "whats up, girl?". Kinda gossipy. Meant to invoke a vibe that you're being let in on a secret.

The top of this page reads "92%", referring probably to the percentage of TWF4 that is completed. The rest of the page contains "3 funny walten facts" Which are:

"Bon the rabbit was originally called Bon the Dancing Hare by Jack, ultimately Felix vouched against that because Rabbit sounds friendlier."

This is so fun to me! I did always think Bon was pretty hare-like. Funny that Jack wanted Bon to be a Jackrabbit. Also I can't believe "Bon The Dancing Rabbit" is still real. It's been so long since I've heard anybody call him that I kinda figured it was retconned.

"During the late 70s, BSI expanded further than restaurant chains, the showstoppers became famous for way different products such as random merch, plushies, furniture, toys, watches, bed sheets, lanterns, masks, lamps, toilet seats. BSI most succesful product was "Showstopper's Comedy Extravaganza", a 1977 animated TV show that ran for 3 seasons and was cancelled in the 1979's to make room for a "bigger project". it is unknown what was the cause for BSI to milk the showstopper franchise to that extent, what was the money for?"

This is something we sorta already knew? Relocate Project implied this sort of thing But I guess we didn't really know how successful their merch ventures were until now. Turns out, they were pretty successful! The "Showstopper's Comedy Extravaganza" thing is crazy to me though, three seasons? That 'what was the money for?' comment is also very ominous. It makes me think of the planned relaunch of Bon's Burgers but considering how vague the comment is and how the Bon's Burgers relaunch was something we already knew about, I'm wondering if it's something else.

"Sophie lived on the back of a meat store for the better part of 3 years, she managed."

How do I even comment on this. This is just so fucked. It makes me sick to my stomach. She was homeless for three years? Homeless? For three years? As a teenager? I feel like i'm undergoing hitherto unexperienced Sophie Emotions. What the hell do I even say.

Findjackwalten.com/btscene

Just a whole page of behind the scenes stuff! This is also hard to comment on, really. It'd be easiest if you just went and looked at everything yourself.

There's a little play button here with Anything Goes by Cole Porter, but I think it's been edited to sound more echo-y. Like it's being played in a big empty room, but also like the next room over? I've listened to a few versions of this song before but none that sound quite like this. This is also the song that's referenced lyrically in the new years 2022 version of /investigation1, with this bit of writing:

A decent bit of the stuff on this page is from the old Patreon, but not all of it, or even like, half of it. And some stuff (like the blue and purple Felix drawing) is old concept art that had been shared in the Discord server before.

#the walten files #sorry this is written like. more casually than a lot of my update walkthroughs #it's just really difficult to talk about this update very matter-of-factly because it's so self-explanatory. lol

[fangirlwriting-stories]

Protector

Chapter One

Author's Note: *peeks my head out* hi

You guys over here on tumblr can't see the chapter count, but this is the last chapter! This story has been… shit, at least three years in the making? From the first brainstorm to today it has gone through a fuck ton of changes and updates and fights between me and my own characters when they wouldn't do what I wanted them to. But I really honestly love where it ended up and how things worked out. I hope you did too, and thank you so much for reading! I've really loved seeing everyone's comments and theories as the story goes on, and sometimes I honestly can't believe how many people read it, it's easily my most popular story for this fandom xD

But anyways, thank you so much for reading it! This story means a lot to me, and I hope you enjoy the ending and that you enjoyed the whole thing overall!

Chapter Forty-Three:

Most days, Virgil woke up alone now.  Logan said it was a good sign that he no longer worried enough about Remus’ safety to have to sleep in the same bed with him every night.  If Virgil had a bad night, he’d end up there.  If it was a really bad night, sometimes Roman would already be there.  But those were becoming few and far between, and more likely, Virgil would wake up, get dressed, and head downstairs to find Remus making some kind of monstrosity in the kitchen with Patton.

That was precisely what happened this morning, as Virgil walked downstairs and found Patton had made a horrible mistake in apparently thinking Remus was ready to learn how to make pancakes.

Spilled batter was covering everything in the kitchen, including Patton and Remus themselves.  Currently, Remus was pouring batter onto the griddle, and Virgil cringed and stepped back lest Remus somehow find a way to launch it several feet.

But some of the practice must have paid off, because Remus pulled the bowl up in time to make a pancake that actually looked more or less okay.

“Alright!” Remus called happily, setting the bowl down on the counter and spilling more as he did so.  “Now when do we add the bacon?”

“Bacon is normally a side that comes with the pancakes,” Patton said.  “But we might be able to add some to yours after we flip it.”

“Hell yeah!”

“Language!”

“Good morning,” Virgil called, startling Patton into spinning around.  Remus simply glanced over his shoulder and called “Hi Virgil!”

“Oh, good morning kiddo,” Patton said with a smile.  “We’re attempting to make pancakes.  I’ll admit you were a much less messy student.”

“Thank you!” Remus called, beaming at Patton.

“It may be a while before breakfast, but I think Logan was actually looking for you,” Patton said.  “He went back up to his room, but he should be down any—”

“Ah, Virgil, you are just the side I was looking for.”

“Minute,” Patton finished with a smile and nod behind Virgil.

Virgil turned around as Patton turned to try and explain flipping pancakes to Remus.

“What’s up teach?” he asked, following Logan into the living room.

“I wanted to invite you to the editing session today,” Logan said, setting his notes and his copy of the script for the upcoming video down on the coffee table.

“For the video?” Virgil asked in confusion.  “I don’t normally have much of a part in that process.”

“I am aware.  However, Remus mentioned the other day that you used to do quite a bit of editing for his ideas, back when there wasn’t anyone else around to do so,” Logan said.  “And as someone more familiar with his contributions as I am more familiar with Roman’s, I thought it was only fair to see if you wanted to join.  I think it is an especially good idea considering this latest video will be heavily focused on you and Remus.”

Virgil smiled a little.  “Well, that’s… not a terrible idea, I guess.”

The corners of Logan’s lips turned up slightly, and he nodded.  “Excellent, I look forward to seeing you there.”

“Oh, are you talking about the editing session later?” Remus called from the kitchen, turning and flinging a pancake up as he did so which promptly landed on Patton’s head.  “Virgey, are you going to come?”

“I’ll be there, Re, pay attention!” Virgil called, though Patton was laughing and didn’t seem at all upset.

“Awesome!” Remus called, turning to pour more batter now that the pancake was ruined.

Virgil picked up on Roman’s footsteps just before they started down the stairs, and had just enough time to realize that he was going to be disappointed before he called, “I smell pancakes!”

“Remus is making them,” Virgil called as his head came into view.  “I’d stick with frozen waffles unless you want to wait a while.”

“…That’s probably best,” Roman sighed.

“Hey, I didn’t even add anything poisonous this time!” Remus called from the kitchen.

Virgil leaned back on the couch with a chuckle as Roman headed into the kitchen to make waffles.  Remus made sure to flip a pancake onto his head anyway.

The volume in the kitchen started to raise as Roman and Remus started exchanging banter, and Virgil used the cover to turn and face Logan.  “Do you know how Janus is doing?”

“A little better, I think,” Logan said with a smile.  “He did some acting with Roman yesterday, and didn’t seem to even have a motive beyond having fun with him.  At least, that’s what Roman said he thought was going on.”

“That’s good,” Virgil said.  He shifted so he could push himself up to sit on the top of the couch.

“He’s also started forcing people to take breaks again,” Logan said.  “And if he’s confident enough to do that, I think that’s a good sign.”

“People?” Virgil asked, raising an eyebrow at Logan.

“I did not do anything work-related after dinner yesterday, like we all agreed on,” Logan said, adjusting his glasses.  “I was researching purely for the sake of enjoyment.”

“Yeah?  What’d you find out?”

Logan’s eyes lit up, and he launched into a rant about astronomy that Virgil could mostly keep up with.

They were both there until Remus and Patton managed to finish one pancake for each of them, and Patton headed upstairs to take a shower with a remark that he’d grab Janus on the way back down.  Remus, on the other hand, was attempting to lick the batter off to clean himself, which would be more efficient according to him.

Patton’s showers didn’t take long, meaning about fifteen minutes later he and Janus started down the steps and over towards the kitchen.  Janus sat next to Logan on the opposite side of the table from where Virgil and Remus had picked, but the dark circles under his eyes were less heavy today, which was progress.

“So!” Roman called happily, and everyone turned their gazes to him.  “The video is making good progress, and Logan said he was going to ask Virgil to start helping with the editing…?” he gave Virgil a hopeful look.

Virgil gave a thumbs up around a mouthful of pancake.

“Excellent!  In that case, I believe we’ll be ready to start filming by the end of the week!”

“That’s wonderful, kiddo!” Patton said happily.

“Indeed, I believe we are all eager to get started,” Logan said.  “Not because it is unreasonable that this video is taking longer, but because I think we are all happy to be working on something again.  And I very much look forward to having the figurative record set straight with Virgil and Remus.”

“Good luck with that!” Patton, Remus, and Roman all called at the same time.

Logan looked up at the ceiling, seeming to be contemplating his life choices.

Virgil caught Logan’s gaze and gave a roll of his eyes that Logan returned a grateful smile to.  He was pretty sure they were both glad there was at least one other side to be annoyed at antics with, especially since Janus was obviously hiding a smile behind his hand at the other end of the table.

“When does the editing session start?” Janus asked a second later.  “Do we have anything else to do today?”

“The plan was to begin after lunch, and I don’t believe there’s anything else on the schedule, why?” Logan asked.

“Because I am in dire need of a movie night with Thomas,” Janus said.  “And I was hoping we could fit one in.”

“We’re all eating breakfast,” Logan pointed out.  “It would hardly be considered—”

“Movie night!” Roman called with a happy clap of his hands.  “I’m down as long as I get to use your hat for voting!”

Janus hissed and put his hands protectively over his hat.

“I think that’s a great idea kiddo,” Patton said with a smile.  “I’ll ask Thomas after I finish eating.”

“I’m done,” Virgil called, standing up with his empty plate.  “I’ll do it in just a sec.”

He headed over to the sink to wash the dish as the conversation continued behind him.  He washed the dish and set it over on the drying rack, and sank out to Thomas afterwards with a wave at the others and a call that he’d see them soon.

Thomas was already sitting in front of the TV flipping through Netflix, so clearly some of the idea had bled over already.

He did pause and give Virgil a smile once he noticed him, though.

“Hi Virgil!  It’s not game night already, is it?”

“Nope.  Janus suggested an impromptu movie night before the editing session later.  I came to ask if you were alright with it.”

“We’re going to try and settle on movie all seven of us agree on?” Thomas asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Of course not, that’s why I got here early,” with a mischievous smile.  “I say we watch The Nightmare Before Christmas.”

“That doesn’t sound half bad,” Thomas said.

“Well, look at that, the vote is unanimous,” Virgil said, moving to his spot on top of the couch.  “Let’s get it set up so it can be ready when everyone else gets here.”

Thomas huffed a laugh and shook his head.  “You know sometimes I remember why you were originally a villain.”

“Oh you’re right, it doesn’t get any more devious than rigging movie votes,” Virgil said.  “Clearly I’m the worst side you’ve got.”

Thomas winced, and Virgil paused.

“Too soon?”

“Maybe a bit,” Thomas said, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Sorry.  Joke rescinded.”

“It’s okay,” Thomas said with a small smile.  “So do we want popcorn for this movie night?”

“At 9 in the morning?”

“We’re adults, who’s going to stop us?”

“The debilitating social anxiety and shame,” Virgil said.

Thomas gave him a deadpan look, and Virgil laughed.

“No but you make an excellent point,” he said.  “Let’s make the rest of your popcorn all right now.”

“All of it?”

“There are seven of us.”

Thomas laughed, and they both headed to the kitchen to do just that.

Virgil expected it to be a little longer before anyone else showed up, but he was proven wrong when a second after he got out the popcorn he heard someone appear behind him and turned to see Remus.

He was holding something and looking uncharacteristically nervous, which set Virgil’s alarm bells off.

“Re?” he asked, setting the bag of popcorn down.

“I uh, made you a thing,” Remus said, shoving the thing he was holding at him, which looked like a wrapped gift.  “The thing that I was gonna make you before Janus was an idiot and ran off to the subconscious.”

Virgil took in it in surprise, looking down at it.

“If you want to go open that in private I can finish here,” Thomas said to Virgil.

Virgil gave him a grateful smile.  “Thanks,” he said, and he and Remus both sank out to Virgil’s room.

“I hope you don’t hate it,” Remus said instantly, with a casual tone Virgil could read through immediately.

“I’m not gonna hate it, dummy,” Virgil said, rolling his eyes with a fond smile.  “Hang on, let me just…”

He let his sentence fade off and pulled the wrapping paper off the gift, then set it to the side on his desk, and was met with a hoodie.

It was still black, but unlike his current one, this had bright purple patches and was the kind of brand-new fuzzy that hoodies had before you sent them through the wash.

“I figured, you kind of don’t have a color,” Remus said, still sounding very forcibly casual.  “And the rest of us do.  So.  You know, I made you it, and whatever and stuff.”

Virgil looked up at Remus with a smile, and then stepped forward and pulled him into his arms.  “You’re amazing,” he said.  “You know that, right?”

“Obviously,” Remus said, with a slightly choked up tone of voice.

“I love it,” Virgil said.  “Thank you.”

Remus made a small noise but didn’t say anything else, just pulled Virgil closer and squished him.

Virgil squished him back, and they both stood there for a moment being squished, which was as wonderful as always.

Eventually, they pulled apart, and Virgil took off his current hoodie and put on his new-and-obviously-improved version.

“You want to head out to Thomas and watch movies now?” he asked with a smile at Remus.

“Yes I do,” Remus said, starting to grin.  “You have to show off your amazing new outfit.”

“Naturally,” Virgil said with a smile, and he wrapped his arm around Remus’ so they could sink out together.  They had a 9AM movie night to get to, and a really good day after.

And a really, really good life to come after that.

#sanders sides #virgil sanders #remus sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #janus sanders #character thomas sanders #platonic dukexiety #platonic moxiety #platonic analogical #platonic prinxiety #platonic anxceit #platonic thvi #my fic

[johannestevans]

New works published, December ahead, and plans for the new year!

Good evening and happy December!

Here's the sign-up link to get these sorts of updates and lists directly into your inbox.

Happy second night of Hanukkah for anyone else celebrating, we lit our first candle last night and have also been doing a Hanukkah gift box with little bears and accessories, so we'll see if our first bear gets a yarmulke or something to wear tonight.

In the past month, I did go along to the Wakefield Makers Fair and it was a brilliant day, was lovely to speak to lots of other queer people in Wakefield and to chat around - I also did Honeypot comedy at the Room Above in Bristol for the first time, and it was a gorgeous night, super fun!

I am in the end stages of finalising my new apartment in Bradford, and once all the paperwork is done and I have my keys, I will be uploading pictures and videos as I move in and redecorate the place. The building went up toward the end of the 19th century, and while it was converted to apartments a lot more recently, only a few decades ago, I'll of course be decorating in more Victorian styles and with contemporary furnishings, and I'll be documenting my progress as I go.

In the meantime I've been wrestling with paperwork and the whole process whilst being technically homeless and going between partners' homes, so apologies for the delays and periods of quiet, work-wise!

I tend to be quite active in writing and publishing over the month of December because Christmas and the Gregorian new year aren't really my thing, so hopefully if you do spend a lot of time celebrating those or generally being offline, you'll be able to come back to a backlog when you've time to read again!

Speaking of, I have updated my commission guidelines, which are here pinned on my Tumblr page, and I'm in the process of editing and collating some short stories into collections at the moment. There'll be a few eBook and paperback collections of fantasy, horror, & romance short stories, and then depending on what I can do on Amazon, I'll also do some collections of erotica. I will not be able to post most monsterfucker stuff on Amazon because of Amazon's restrictions, but I will probably still do some eBooks and make them available on Smashwords and perhaps on Gumroad or Itch.io.

I will also resume podcasting in the new year too hopefully!

Relevant to restrictions, not everything I might want to write is always going to be permitted on Patreon in line with their own guidelines, so I have set up a SubscribeStar as a backup, and also to permit me to publish anything that might be too taboo for Patreon in future. I will be uploading my backlog of previous works and setting up a tiered system on SubscribeStar, hopefully while we're working on collating other stories together in the next month or so.

In the new year, I will of course be doing various markets and conventions, and if you'd like me to come and be part of any queer or trans events, or any writers' events, where you are in the UK, please do let me know! Definitely always feel free to recommend any events to me, whether they're cons or festivals, or local markets and events, or even stand-up comedy things - you can send me messages on whatever platforms, or my email is always [email protected]. As well as working on new paperback short story collections for the new year and the badges I already sell at events, I also want to work on some sticker designs and similar.

I was super happy this year to submit to a few publications and get accepted, and I do want to keep that up as we come into 2024, so recs for those would also be appreciated!

I'm going to do a list this month of my favourite films and new releases of 2023, but in the meantime, I would just like to recommend Down Low (2023, dir. Rightor Doyle) - it's such a bizarre and unexpected gay movie, horny in the best and most ridiculous of ways, and bittersweet at its end but in a way that really clicks.

December having come around also means there's new prompts on Trans Erotica! If you're trans and write erotica or erotic horror, romance, etc, come and submit!

November's Most Popular Works

November's Most Popular Non-Fiction: Close Reading: A Deep Dive into the Process

An in-depth guide into applying analysis to a piece of text and extrapolating meaning.

Read on Patreon / / Read on The Writing Cooperative

November's Most Popular Fiction: Confession and Penance

A priest takes a hands-on approach to addressing a worshiper’s poor working habits.

11k, cis M/M, rated E! Tiernan, a manipulative workaholic who only ever relaxes during Mass services, is taken aside by Father Mullen when it all gets to be a bit too much. D/s, BDSM-approach to enforcing self-care, spanking, painplay, bit of a priest kink but it doesn’t go into that aspect too much, faith. Also some anal.

Read on Patreon / / Read on Medium

New Works Published

Erotic short: Enhanced Parts

Bear goes home with a cybernetically enhanced butch.

NB/NB, rated E, 2k. Commissioned by Bear Blue. Featuring cybernetic enhancements, breeding kink, dirty talk, size difference, large insertions, objectification, humiliation, mild dub con, rough sex, struggling, some tears, implied overstim.

Read on Patreon / / Read on Medium / / Read on Tumblr / / Read on Ao3

Romance & Fantasy Short: The Arena Fighter

An arena brute enjoys one of the attendants.

3.5k, M/M. Nasty violent guys getting off on treating each other a bit roughly. Adapted from a TweetFic.

Read on Patreon / / Read on Medium

Our Flag Means Death Fanfiction: Repentance & Forgiveness

Held hostage by Blackbeard on the Queen Anne, Frenchie can't sleep.

Desperate to just get whatever he can away from crew of the Queen Anne's Revenge, he knocks on Izzy's door and invites himself in.

---

Slowly unfolding relationship between Frenchie and Izzy Hands, as well as an exploration of their relationships with Edward Teach and the rest of their crews, delving for Frenchie into what it means to really experience one's feelings, to get into touch with and truly grapple with the depths of one's worst experiences; and for Izzy and Ed, into what it means to transgress, to repent, and ultimately to be forgiven.

Read on Ao3

Erotic Short: Punishment

A man takes penance over the priest’s desk.

1.8k, rated E, M/M. Featuring spanking, mild anal play, power dynamics, of course the priest aspect, age difference. Tiernan Borel and Marshall Mullen first appeared in Confession and Penance. 

Read on Patreon / / Read on Medium

Romance Short: Sleeper Train

Romance short. Two boyfriends head up north on the sleeper train.

850 words, rated T, M/M. Short, sweet, romance and slice-of-life. Adapted from a TweetFic.

Read on Patreon / / Read in Prism & Pen

Erotic Short: Knight Tactics

An elf serves as a distraction and an exhaustion tactic for a bandit camp. By letting them fuck him.

3k, trans M/loads of cocks, assumed as cis M. Amaethon gets himself stuck in a wall so that the bandits will work out their stamina fucking him rather than fighting off the king’s guard.

Stuck in wall, free use, fully (and gleefully) consensual whilst pretending he isn’t, mild belly bulging and come inflation, gaping, exhaustion, messy and come-spattered, etc. All the fun stuff.

Read on Patreon / / Read on Trans Erotica / / Read on SubscribeStar

Read on Tumblr / / Read on Ao3 / / Read on HentaiFoundry

Erotic Short: Free Ride

An elf is given a free ride — not with a saddle, but under a centaur.

1.8k, rated E, cis M/trans M. Centaurs, belly riding, huge stomach deformation, huge penis, suspension, implied inflation, size difference.

Read on Patreon / / Read on Trans Erotica / / Read on SubscribeStar

Read on Tumblr / / Read on Ao3 / / Read on HentaiFoundry

Erotic Short: Snake Eggs

An elf lets a naga lay her clutch inside him.

2.5k, rated E, M/F. Amaethon helps out his friend Gitte, a naga, with laying this year’s clutch of eggs. Size difference and size kink, belly bulging, vaginal and anal penetration, paralysis from her venom, some banter, oviposition, inflation, impregnation.

Read on Patreon / / Read on Trans Erotica / / Read on SubscribeStar

Read on Tumblr / / Read on Ao3 / / Read on HentaiFoundry

Erotic Short: Mimic Studies

An elf experiences a mimic’s tentacles, and then a reward.

Rated E, 2.5k, trans M/a mimic. Featuring multiple tentacle penetration in one hole, vaginal sex, some mild objectification and dehumanisation, some academic silliness, object insertion, cervix penetration, belly bulging and stomach distension.

Read on Patreon / / Read on Trans Erotica / / Read on SubscribeStar

Read on Tumblr / / Read on Ao3

These last four stories - Knight Tactics, Free Ride, Snake Eggs, and Mimic Studies - are all ones I'm publishing for free everywhere as well as in the usual paid places.

I've been in the mood to do all this sort of weird and monsterfuckery and body horror-y erotica, so definitely feel free to send asks or requests for similar themes!

Get merch on TeePublic | | Look through my Directory of Published Work | | Listen to my Podcast

#musings #original fiction #writers on tumblr

[tswaney17]

Kneading Dough

A very Happy Birthday goes out to the lovely @impossiblescissorspeachpaper! I owed you a fic, and I decided to give it to you for your birthday. I hope you enjoy this fluffy, mostly smutty trash. 😅 Much love to you, babes!! Also, this went through one round of edits, so please excuse any errors. It's also not my best work. Apologies.

My fanfic account: @tswaney17fics​​​

My ao3 account: tswaney17

Please let me know what you think about this update. I love getting your feedback. Constructive criticism is always welcome. 💕

Trigger warnings: smut. Lots and lots of smut. Dom!Az and shadow-play.

Word Count: 5,162

Elain may have bitten off more than she could chew when she volunteered herself to cook for her family’s Starfall dinner party. They were having a whole host of people over before the actual time when the stars began to fall in the night sky and she needed several days to prep for the number of people expected to attend. With the event only two days away, today, she was focusing on getting all of the bread made and baked. And there was a lot of it.

Focusing on the tasks at hand, she had no idea somebody else was even there until he purposely scuffed his boot upon entering the kitchen to not startle her. “Good morning, Elain.”

Her head snapped up from where she was mixing up her last batch of dough—readying herself for kneading it all. “Azriel,” she breathed. “What are you doing here?”

His full lips quirked up at the corner. “We were supposed to be training this morning. Did you forget?”

“Oh!” Elain glanced down at her flour-covered self, hair tied up in a knot at the crown of her head with strands falling around her face and neck. She looked disarrayed. Chaotic if she were being honest. Her cheeks heated as she returned her gaze to his. “Yes, I’m afraid I did. If I’m being truthful, I think I took too much on for this party and I don’t believe I’m going to get everything done on time.” Her teeth sank into her bottom lip as a sense of guilt and shame washed over her. Elain prided herself on her hosting abilities. She’d done wonders with it so far.

But with the Wraith twins out of town, she over-extended herself and it had finally caught up with her.

Azriel cocked his head to the side, surveying the mess of the kitchen.

Further embarrassment clung to her skin like a burn from the sun at how badly she had managed to destroy the Townhouse’s kitchen today.

What she didn’t expect was for him to double-tap his chest siphon to release his Illyrian leathers for a simple black tunic and trousers as he stepped further into the room, rolling up his sleeves to his elbows as he approached. “How can I help?”

She blinked at him. “You want to help?” she asked as he made his way around the counter and sidled up next to her.

He threw on a lazy smile. “You said you took on more than could handle. I’m supposed to be here anyways to train with you. Might as well make use of the time. So, how can I help?”

It had been a few months since that disastrous Solstice night; when she had read the signs wrong and thought he had wanted her in the same way she wanted him. But here he was, offering his help to her when he didn’t need to. Giving her those smiles that made her heart flutter in her chest. And gods, it was all kinds of stupid to feel like that about him still, but if she could just keep it to herself, then she was only hurting herself—right?

Realizing he was still waiting for an answer, she lurched forward for one of the bowls of dough. “Yes, oh! Yes, that would be great, thank you. Um.” Focus, she chastised to herself, trying not to look at those gorgeous, muscular forearms. “These all still have to be kneaded and set aside to rest.” She flicked some flour on the counter in front of him and set a glass bowl near him. “Go ahead and lightly coat your hands.” He did as instructed, then watched as she poured the sticky goo onto the floured surface and sprinkled a touch more on top. “There we go. About five minutes on this batch and then stick it back in the bowl and start on that one there,” she explained, pointing to the others lined up against the back of the counter.

Elain grabbed one of the finished bowls that had been resting and dumped it out on a flat sheet, forming it into a rounded loaf shape. Wiping her hands on her apron, she took the first batch and stuck it into the oven, then turned to see how her helper was faring.

The shadowsinger was hunched over the counter, looking like he was attacking an enemy with how brutally he squeezed the dough.

“Azriel!” she squeaked, making his wings flutter in surprise. “You’re supposed to knead the bread, not interrogate it.” Elain swiftly moved to his side, placing her hands on top of his scarred ones and showing him how to properly handle it. “Gently fold it in on itself. Like this.”

She peeked up at his face, seeing an unreadable expression had taken over it, and realized that perhaps the spymaster didn’t like that explicit contact on the tops of his hands. Elain snatched hers back. “Sorry.”

A shadow darted out from him, moving to tuck a loose hair behind her arched ear. Her cheeks heated under the attention he showed her. “Um, that one looks good. Let’s move on to another.”

He remained silent as she swapped bowls around, set the first one aside, and covered it with a towel to rest. Finally, a playful smile broke on his mouth. “You have flour on your face.”

She looked at him. “I do? Where?”

His grin went positively mischievous as he swiped his thumb across the tip of her nose. “Right there.”

Elain blinked in shock. “Did you—did you just brush flour on me?”

Azriel chuckled. “Perhaps.”

Without thinking, she wiped her four fingers over his jaw. “Well look at that. So do you.”

His eyes flared in a challenge and for a split second, Elain forgot how competitive the shadowsinger was. He gripped her wrists and brushed his fingers over her brow.

But she was the middle Archeron sister. And stubbornness was born into her. She reached into the bowl of flour.

“Elain, don’t you da—”

Pinching her fingers, she flicked it right at his face. It wasn’t enough to cover, but plenty to lightly coat one side of his face. And then she ran.

There wasn’t far she could go seeing as she was on the inside of the kitchen and she’d have to go around the island to try and get out. But Azriel had anticipated her taking off and reacted quickly, catching her around the waist and hauled her into his chest. Twisting her in his arms, he rubbed his face all over hers, making her shriek in laughter.

“Azriel!” she squealed. “Stop!” Elain was pushing against his chest, leaving more white handprints on his black tunic. And just when she tried to pull away, he snatched her around the back of her neck and crashed their lips together.

Startled by the kiss, she gasped into his mouth, which he must’ve taken as her not wanting it because he immediately released her and stepped back.

His face was flushed, lips slightly swollen. Those burning hazel eyes stared down at her. “Elain,” he breathed. “Forgive me.” He took another half-step back.

But that was a step too far for her and she had had enough. Moving with fae speed she didn’t even know she possessed, Elain slid her hands into his hair and tugged his taunting lips down to hers.

The force with which she used against him had caught him off balance and he snapped his wings out to steady them, his arms snaking around her waist as he aligned their bodies together. Her soft, sensuous curves with his hard, chiseled form. She fit perfectly into the cradle of him, her hips slotted into his, the way his body molded around hers.

His mouth passionately explored hers, worshipped hers. Biting on her lower lip to make her knees tremble, then sucking it between his teeth and letting his tongue soothe the small hurt. When he licked at the seam of her lips, she opened for him, inviting him to take what he wanted.

Offer and permission.

It was what she had given him that night on Solstice and yet, here they were again.

This time was different—Elain knew it was. Because he was not just kissing her, he was devouring her.

Azriel hoisted her into his arms and moved to set her on the island where he could settle between her thighs. His mouth traveled from hers, down to her jaw and neck. He sucked lightly on the soft skin there, growling when he smelt exactly what he was doing to her.

Elain’s chest was heaving, fingernails scraping along his scalp, across his shoulders. She wanted him, needed him. “Azriel.”

His name from her lips in that breathy little voice had his eyes darting up to hers.

“Please. No more running. No more hiding. I need you. I want you.” She watched the words crack open something inside of him; a broken piece of his soul soothed by her confession.

His hazel eyes glowed and he seemed to swallow the lump in his throat. “You want me?”

She brushed a gentle hand over his cheek; felt the rough stubble there. “Yes. Very much so.” They had a lot of things to talk about, to get through, but right now, they had this. And that was the only thing Elain wanted to focus on for the moment. Just this.

“You have me, Elain.” He kissed her once more, roughly and possessively and she felt the dominance of that kiss between her legs. Pushing her chest with a flour-covered hand, he ordered, “Lie down.”

She did, taking a breath in anticipation of what he was going to do to her. Her underwear was already wet from their heated make-out, but Elain had a feeling she was about to see why Azriel was the spymaster and feared for his torturous abilities and expert control.

He wiped his hands clean on her apron before reaching underneath her to untie the strings and pulled it off. Those scarred palms slid under her dress, dragging slowly up the backside of her calves, tracing over her knees, up the inside of her thighs, raising her skirts as he went until he found what he was looking for. His thumbs worked on the junction of where her legs and hips met and Elain couldn’t stop the small whine from escaping the back of her throat.

Az smiled. “My sweet girl, have you been with a male before?”

Her hands gripped the outside of her thighs, needing something to hold onto. “I’m no maiden,” she started, face heating, “but my experience is limited.”

His eyes tracked the movement of her hands, her breaths, and the way her body squirmed against his. “And what exactly,” another stroke of those tantalizing thumbs, “would you like me to do to you?”

There were several things she wanted him to do to her, but Elain needed to pick her words carefully. Azriel was a dominant male, that was clear, and she read enough about those in the few books from Nesta’s collection that they liked their partners direct, responsive, and submissive within their comfort levels. She met his gaze unwaveringly and said, “I want you to pleasure me. And then I want you to fuck me.”

He growled that control of his snapping into something more animalistic. He shucked off her dress, slippered shoes dropping to the floor, leaving her in just her underwear and bra. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Elain,” he groaned, dropping kisses along her body, her belly, anywhere he could. His wings flared out again, the sun from the large bay windows making them glow with strands of red, blue, and gold.

They were really beautiful and Elain couldn’t stop herself from reaching out and running her index finger along the ridge, feeling the smooth membrane.

Azriel’s entire body shuddered, his hips involuntarily snapping into hers. Faster than she could anticipate, his large hand engulfed her wrist, and then the other, and pinned them both above her head. He clicked his tongue. “There will be none of that or our fun will be over a lot sooner than it should be.” His grin turned a bit devilish and her stomach went molten. “In fact…” he started, releasing her hands to skim down her body.

But her wrists were still bound and she tipped her head up to see them restrained by shadows. She could move her arms but was unable to pull her hands apart. Her core throbbed at the idea of being tied up by him. “Azriel,” she whined.

“Keep your hands there,” he murmured, dragging his mouth over her body. “I also think you’ve seen enough for a bit.”

The world went dark.

Elain cried out softly, but he was there instantly, his hands on her waist stroking over her ribcage soothingly.

“I’m right here, Elain. It’s just my shadows. You’re safe with me; just breathe.”

She listened, taking a few deep breaths. The darkness had startled her; made her flashback to that time in the Cauldron. But where that darkness was lifeless, Azriel’s darkness was soothing.

A hand touched her cheek and cradled her face as he pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. “Talk to me, love. Are you doing all right?”

Her heart settled into a steadier rhythm. “I’m fine,” she told him.

“Do you want me to remove the blindfold?”

He would, she realized. If she said yes, he’d remove it without a second thought and continue as he was. But she didn’t want him to. She trusted him with her life, her body. She wanted to give him the reins of her pleasure. “No. I trust you Az. I want to try with it on.”

His thumb stroked her jaw. “My good girl,” he murmured. “Tell me if you want it off.” And then he kissed her filthily, his tongue licking into her mouth and telling her exactly what he planned to do as he made his way down her body. He popped both of her breasts up out of her bra, using the material to prop them up, and sucked on her pert nipples.

Her back arched and she had to grip the other edge of the island to prevent herself from reaching for him. She was panting heavily, felt how soaked she had become and he hadn’t even touched her between her legs yet.

Once he had thoroughly ravished each breast, he moved downward. Elain couldn’t see him, but she could feel him. Feel his hot breath ghosting over her drenched underwear.

“I don’t think you’ll be needing these,” he purred. Hooking his fingers into the scrap of fabric, he tugged them down her legs and exposed her to him completely.

Elain’s breath hitched, feeling vulnerable knowing she was naked and he was completely clothed still. Her skin heated as a blush crept over her body.

Azriel must’ve sensed her slight discomfort because he said, “You have the prettiest pussy, Elain. Feel how wet you are for me.” And then he grazed a knuckle through her slit, circling her clit and adding a delicious amount of pressure that had her moaning. He nipped the inside of her thigh, smiling into the soft flesh. “I want to hear you while I claim this pussy, baby. Scream for me.”

The first stroke of his tongue was unlike anything she’d ever experienced before. Elain’s body lurched, her hands releasing the edge of the counter to find purchase in his hair as she cried out.

He pulled back, grabbing her wrists and pinning them back above her head. “I said to keep these here,” he breathed into her ear. “If you move them again before I say you can, I’ll leave you desperate for me. Understood?”

If Elain could see, she knew her eyes would’ve widened in surprise, but the blindfold held firm, blocking all sight. She gulped and nodded.

“Tell me, Elain.”

“I understand,” she murmured breathily. Gods, his sex voice was so damn attractive. Elain thought he might’ve been able to get her off with that alone.

She didn’t need to see him to know he was smirking. “Good girl.”

That damn praise would be the death of her.

With the next swipe of his tongue, her hips jerked, but she maintained her grip on the edge of the island.

Azriel threw her legs over his shoulders, careful of his wings, and set a brutal pace. Licking at her entrance, he dipped his tongue inside and thrust in and out, gathering more of her slickness before gliding it up to flick over her clit.

Elain moaned at the first suck, feeling the divine pressure it brought low in her belly. Her hips rutted against his face, moving on their own accord. When he slid a long, thick finger inside of her fluttering sex, and then a second, her back arched, hands gripping the counter hard enough that she thought it might break beneath her fae strength.

With Graysen, sex had been about him. About him finding his high and his pleasure. Elain had tried to find her own, but nothing could compare to what was currently building in her gut. With her sight gone, it heightened her other senses—made her feel everything that much more.

Azriel splayed a hand across her lower belly, pinning her to the counter.

“Azriel, please,” she begged. “I’m close. Please don’t stop.” Heady moans escaped her parted lips. That beautiful, beautiful edge was so close. So damn close. And with another hard suck on her clit, she shattered, screaming out a litany of words and his name.

Elain’s back came off the counter, heels of her feet digging into his shoulder blades as he leached every ounce of pleasure from her. He licked and sucked and took everything she gave him and more. She felt herself pulse around his fingers when he gently removed them, maneuvering up her body to kiss her lips. Tasting herself on his tongue was singlehandedly the most erotic thing she’d ever experienced.

The shadowed blindfold disappeared and she had to blink at the flood of light. But there he was, leaning above her, a smug smile bursting with male ego. He held up two fingers to her mouth. “Clean these off for me?” he asked, voice hoarse with desire.

She eyed the two digits, glistening with her release, and opened her mouth.

He thrust into her mouth slowly, letting her get acclimated to him invading her oral cavity. “Suck, sweet girl.”

So, she did, bobbing her head over his fingers, her tongue swirling around each one, between them. She worked his fingers, ensuring every drop of her orgasm was wiped away by the stroke of her tongue.

Azriel watched her closely, his pupils blown wide with lust. When he felt like his hand was clean enough, he pulled it from her mouth with an audible pop, dropping a kiss on her plump lips. He tugged his tunic over his head, freeing all that beautiful, tanned, tattooed skin for her to see.

She whined. “Azriel, please. I want to touch you.” Elain wanted to run her fingers over the ridges of those muscles, the strength of his shoulders and his arms. She wanted to feel him beneath her hands. Wanted to scratch and leave her mark on him. Her shoulders and arms burned from how long she had been holding her position.

He smiled down at her. “Are your arms tired, baby?”

Elain nodded, bottom lip jutting out in a pout.

The shadowsinger laughed. “Well, if that isn’t adorable,” he cooed, but he released the shadows binding her wrists. “You’re free to touch me now.”

She wasted no time lurching up off the counter, grabbing him by the shoulders and hauling him to her. Their lips crashed together, tongues tangling.

Azriel wrestled with hers, controlling it in a way that had her moaning lowly in her throat. Those large, scarred hands slid to her back, deftly unhooking her bra and pulling the garment away. It landed somewhere in the kitchen with the rest of her clothes. With her breasts finally freed, he cupped them freely, molding them, squeezing them until she whimpered.

Dragging the pads of her fingers down his bare chest, she took satisfaction in feeling his body shudder under her touch. “You’re still wearing far too many clothes to fuck me properly,” Elain dared to say,” against his mouth.

Those taunting shadows went wild out of him, brushing over her skin, kissing at her peaked nipples, dancing along her soaked slit. “Then why don’t you do something about it,” he murmured into the junction of her neck and shoulder and bit down, hard enough that she knew she’d have a mark for days.

It only made her wetter, but somehow, someway, she managed to find the coherent thoughts to fumble with the laces of his trousers. Using her feet, she pushed the pants down his legs until his length sprang free.

His very considerable length.

Mother’s tits. 

Azriel burst out laughing. “Fuck, you’ve been spending too much time with Cassian.”

Elain snapped her gaze up to him, face burning. “Did I say that out loud?”

He was grinning. “Yes, you did. And thank you.”

Smug Illyrian.

His face sobered a bit. “Elain, are you on a tonic?”

She nodded. “Yes, I am. Have been for a while.”

“Thank, fuck.” He grabbed her by the hips and tugged her off the counter, setting her back on her feet. Azriel twisted her and bent her back over, running a hand over the curve of her ass cheek. “Such a pretty view,” he purred, leaning over her to lick the shell of her ear.

“Az,” she whined, rubbing her backside into him. “I thought you said I could touch you.”

He sent a swift smack to her rear end, making her yelp in surprise. “Patience gets rewarded, love. This way first, then you can take me however you want.”

Elain looked over her shoulder at him, flashing those doe eyes. “Promise.”

His lips quirked up at the corner. “Promise.”

She repositioned herself, rising on her tiptoes to accommodate for his height. Elain rested her hips on the edge of the counter and waited.

“So pretty,” he teased, running his fingers over her drenched slit, coating his fingers in her slickness.

Elain waited and waited for him as he prepped himself for her until she felt his cock running between her legs. She moaned, head dipping down and loose hairs cascading around her. The blunt head nudged at her entrance until he pushed into her in one mighty thrust.

“Fuck!” she cried out, her hands clutching at the counter as the breath left her lungs.

He stilled as he bottomed out. “You all right?”

She took a few gasping breaths. The pressure in her belly was going to break and remake her. It lit a fire in her veins and made her body erupt in pleasure. The stretch to accommodate him bordered on painful, but was cruelly exquisite too. “Fine. Now fuck me like you mean it.”

Azriel didn’t need to be told twice. Growling, he pulled her hair from its knot and twisted it around his fist. Then he began to thrust into her in slow, steady movements. Pulling nearly all the way out and pushing back in until his hips pressed into hers. The tug in her belly was divine, the way his cock dragged inside of her.

Elain moaned at the sensual feeling of him, desperately wanting to meet him thrust for thrust, but with her already on her tiptoes, she was at his mercy.

He tugged her hair, arching her neck back, and brought his mouth to the shell of her pointed ear. “Fuck, Elain. You feel so good. So, fucking tight and warm it should be against the law.” He licked at the delicate skin there, making her shudder with pleasure. “I could live in your pussy,” he added with a snap of his hips.

She groaned as he hit that spot deep inside her—something that had never been touched before—and had stars bursting behind her closed eyelids. “Oh, gods, Az. There, harder. Please!”

A nip to the side of her face. “Only because you beg so prettily.” He released her hair, scarred hands sliding over the curve of her hips, down her full thighs, and hooked her by the knees. Bending her legs at her knees, he used them as leverage to pound into her harder.

Elain felt every stroke, everything he gave her. She was a victim of his pleasure, at his utter mercy. That edge of bliss came closer and closer with every roll of his hips, every pass of his cock over that spot. Her pants became whines, whines turning into heavenly moans.

Azriel peppered kisses along her sweat-soaked spine, licking and sucking bruising marks into her skin. “You close, love?”

“Yes,” she breathed. “Don’t stop, Az.”

He bit her shoulder. “Never.”

Her hips were digging into the hard counter, but she didn’t care. Not as her toes curled and that wave began to crest. “Azriel! Oh, gods! Don’t stop! I—I’m coming!” Elain’s body went tight as she peaked, and then loose for her drop when her orgasm hit. It was different than when he used his fingers and his mouth. She screamed, body shaking as he rode out her high.

The intensity had her going limp on the countertop. Azriel was leaning over her, pressing into her to kiss whatever skin he could find. She felt his body shuddering, his cock pulsing and twitching inside of her, and realized he hadn’t finished with her. Elain managed to look over her shoulder at him. The fire, the lust she found burning in his darkened eyes had the heat returning between her legs. “You didn’t finish.”

“I told you that you got to pick the next position. One more round before I get my reward, love.” His voice had gone husky like he was physically trying to control his body’s need to find his release.

Elain’s mouth quirked up and she squeezed him.

The shadowsinger growled, nipping her shoulder. “Naughty girl, love.”

She laughed breathily, mind going through the possibilities of how he could take her. She wanted to face him, wanted to be able to touch him for this round. He sucked on her neck, making it difficult for her to think straight, but finally, she managed to spit out, “Against the wall.”

“Hmm?” he murmured onto her skin.

Elain’s head tipped to the side allowing him more access to her throat. “I want you to fuck me against the wall.”

His teeth sunk into the junction of where her neck met her shoulder and sucked hard, making her moan loudly. Slipping out of her, Azriel gently rolled her onto her back and plunged himself back inside.

Her body arched as a moan ripped out of her. “You’re so big. Fuck I’ve never felt so full.”

Azriel wrapped his arms around her, hauling her to his chest as he lifted her off the counter with a snarl. Her legs automatically wrapped around his waist. “My good girl.” He walked over to the other side of the kitchen until her back hit the wall, knocking the air from her lungs. “Touch me, Elain.”

She let herself loose on him; hands running through his hair, fingers tugging on his dark mop of silky strands before she slid one palm down the back of his neck, between his wings, and down his spine. Her nails dug into his skin leaving searing scratches along his back that had him snapping his hips into hers.

The only sound in the kitchen was their heavy breathing and wet skin slapping skin. He pinned her with his pelvis, holding her with one arm under her thigh and gripping at her ass, the other traveling between her legs to swirl around clit. “Come on, Elain. I’m not going to last much longer here,” he groaned, face buried into her neck.

Her legs tightened around his hips as pleasure sparked through her body. She used her leverage on his shoulders and waist to match his thrusts, bouncing on his cock. Her third orgasm was on the brink of taking over her—felt herself fluttering around him.

He must’ve felt it too because he pulled away from her neck and said, “Elain, look at me.” Doe eyes peeked open. “Come.”

The command in his voice had her falling over that edge for a third and final time. She hugged him close, clinging to him as she called out his name.

Azriel’s thrusts became sloppy as his orgasm closed in. “Where?” he grunted.

Elain licked up the column of his strong throat. “Inside me. I want you to come inside me. Mark me as yours, Azriel. Claim me with your seed.” She ran a hand down his chest, across his waist to grab at his toned ass. “I am yours. Tell the world.”

His wings snapped out at her words, an Illyrian sign of possession and claiming. “You’re mine,” he growled. After a couple more thrusts, Azriel came with a roar, her body milking him through his release.

She held him close, fingers stroking the back of his head. Elain had no idea how he was able to remain standing, but then again, she wasn’t a centuries-old warrior.

When they finally caught their breath, Azriel pulled back to search her face, looking for what she assumed was regret for what had just happened.

But he wouldn’t find any of that on her. “I told you I wanted you, Az. I meant it then I mean it now.” She cupped his cheeks in her palms. “I love you.”

An emotion she couldn’t place washed over his face and he crashed their lips together, a needy kiss full of desperation, promise, and love. It was a clash of teeth and tongues. “I love you, too,” he whispered onto her mouth—breathed into her soul. Az pulled back slightly when he heard her sniffle. Tears filled her eyes but he was quick to wipe them away. “I know we have a lot to talk about, and we will, but let’s just enjoy this today. I want to experience this with you first and deal with all of the rest of it tomorrow. Can we do that, please?”

Elain let out an airy chuckle. “Join me in the bath and you’ve got yourself a deal.” They were both still covered in flour, just now combined with sweat and sex.

The shadowsinger grinned, sealing it with a kiss on her plump lips, and carried her up the stairs for a long, relaxing bath where Elain showed him just how much she loved him twice in the tub, and many more times throughout the night all over the Townhouse. Between finishing up making all bread for Starfall, of course.

~~~~~

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[scarlettriot]

Hide & Seek • To The Ends Of The Earth

Pairing: Kirishima X f!Reader

Warnings: Minors & Ageless Blogs DNI, Vigilanteism, Child Endangerment//Neglect, Mentions of Previous Injuries, Lack of Self Care, Reader Weight is Mentioned (Weight Loss Due To Stress & Environment) A Very Corrupt Commission

Contains: Aged Up characters to late 20s. Reader is a vigilante, Kiri is still a Pro (for the time being). Reader has a quirk. Hurt/Comfort. They share a bed. I don’t care how tall you are, Kiri is bigger than you in this 😂 Kiri calls Reader Sweets as a nickname ((if I missed something, please message me)).

Summary: After an unexpected reunion left you in critical condition, Kiri had to take steps to ensure you’d be okay. Even if he knew you might not agree with them.

Tag List: @meggsngrits • @weebaboobs • @katditca • @silverhairsimp • @bigmooncheeks • @akari180 • @e-b-e

Word Count: 3,803

A/N: I was just really dying to get this next chapter out so here it is. I do plan on updating my other series very, very soon! Again, editing is probably horrible, sorry about that. Happy reading ♥️

• Part One •

There was a rich aroma that tickled your nose, beckoning you from your restless slumber. It felt warm and welcoming, something that you hadn't experienced in quite some time. For a few precious moments, while your eyes were still shut, it didn’t even register that there was no way you should be smelling fresh coffee in the rundown, one-room unit you’d been renting above the shady bonds shop for the last two months. 

You sat straight up in a bed that was certainly not your own but vaguely familiar. Your wide eyes scanned the room for danger. When they landed on the young woman sitting in the corner of the room, legs tucked under her with a book in her lap, silvery blue hair pulled back, and the previous night started coming back to you.

“Y/N!” Eri’s voice was soft as usual, and she was already standing, going right for the door. 

“Eri, wait, please! Who… who’s all out there?” You kept your voice quiet. There was a window you could easily climb out of. You didn't think Eijiro would've sold you out to the commission, but if they'd found you somehow, you needed to be ready. 

“Only Kirishima and my dad, that’s all.” She offered a reassuring smile, “Kirishima’s been really worried, lemme go get him. I’ll be just a second. Please, don’t run away again.” 

Guilt tugged at your heartstrings, and you nodded your head. It seemed only fair she got the redhead since you were in his bed, after all. And it really only a few seconds before you heard some chatter flow in from the cracked door followed by heavy footfalls and the door flung open.

He stood there in the doorway, ruby eyes staring at you almost in disbelief. 

“Hey…”

“Hey?” He parroted, “You vanish for over two months, and all you can say is, ‘hey’!” 

“Umm, hello?” You tried, thinking that might be better, but he only shook his head. 

“You’re unbelievable,” He mumbled and crossed to the side of the bed, wrapping his arms around you in an instant, “‘M so glad you’re okay. If I knew it was you on the roof, I never woulda–” 

You held him right back, “You couldn’t have known, Eiji. It’s alright.”

It'd been months since he'd held you like this. One hand cradling the back of your head and the other locked securely around your back. You weren't sure if you'd ever get to experience another one.

So now you smooshed your face into the crook of his neck, taking in the lingering scent of spice and sweet amber that made up his body wash while your fingers clung to the back of his cotton shirt. “And, I guess I did attack you first.” 

“Guess you did. Gonna tell me why?” 

You bit down on your cheek, not wanting to say a word. If the commission had any suspicion he knew where you were or what you were doing, then he’d be held accountable too, and that was the last thing you wanted. 

“Sweets,” The nickname just made you hold him tighter. “I’m not gonna stop. You can keep runnin’, but I won’t quit looking for you. I won’t stop until you can come home.” His voice was so soft and gentle, but you knew he wasn't exaggerating, that he meant every word. Eijiro would never give up on any of his friends, even if they left of their own volition. “Just tell me what you're trying to do, lemme help.” 

“You can’t help–”

He carefully pulled you from your hiding place and angled your head so you had to look at him. “That’s not for you to decide. Please, tell me what you’re up to.” 

“Yeah,” the voice came from the doorway, and the two of you broke apart, “tell us.” 

Aizawa stood, leaning against the wooden frame with Eri peeking around him. 

To your knowledge, the man knew nothing about what your team had uncovered that day, why you left, or what had transpired up on the warehouse roof. “How much do they know?” You quietly asked Eijiro. 

“Enough. I couldn’t take you to a hospital, and you were bleeding in my arms a lot. I had to do something.”

“And I already know you’re wanted by the commission for questioning. They’re not being forthcoming about the why so when he called saying you were in bad shape, we rushed over.”

“I had to explain the injuries and how you got them so Eri could properly heal you. Told ‘em you’ve been gone for a few months, but I don’t know much else…” 

“You were severely dehydrated, and ya look like you haven’t had a good meal in weeks. I’m willing to bet that’s why you took the hit as hard as you did.” Aizawa took a seat in the chair Eri had occupied earlier. “We got some fluids in you, and Eri managed to reverse what damage Kirishima had done completely. But, you need to stay down for at least another day or two, recover from her quirk.” 

It sucked to admit, but you already knew what he was talking about. This short conversation already had you feeling far more drained than normal. 

“I have a place I’ve been stayin’. I’ll head back there and take it easy.” 

“Hell no! You’re staying put!”

Your protest didn’t even make it past your lips before Aizawa was speaking again. “Is there someone at this place you’re staying that can keep an eye on you? Help you, if necessary? Someone, you trust?” 

There wasn’t, not a single person. You barely spoke to anyone since you left, and you definitely hadn’t made any new friends along the way. “Right, so you're gonna stay here so Kirishima can look after you. Now, tell me what the hell you’ve gotten yourself into.” 

You would’ve begun speaking but with Eri right in the room, you hesitated. You couldn't stand the idea of bringing up any painful memories for the sweet girl. Aizawa picked up on how your eyes shifted uncomfortably and sent his adopted daughter out to the living room so the three of you could speak freely.

“Help yourself to anything in the kitchen!” Eijiro called after her, “TV remote’s on the coffee table!” 

After a muted, ‘thank you’, came through, Aizawa refocused the conversation. “Kirishima started telling me about the mission that made you leave. Said all the subjects were children,” Both of you nodded your heads solemnly, “And when you rescued them…”

“The commission insisted we return them to the facility we broke ‘em out of,” Eijiro explained. 

Aizawa’s fists tightened on the arms of the chair, but his voice remained steady. “And you did, so why the hell is there a hunt for you then?”

“‘Cause she promptly told the commission to go fuck themselves.” 

You elbowed Eijiro in the ribs. “I wouldn’t sign their NDA and didn’t accept their hush money.” 

“And she up and vanished without a word.” 

The man closed his tired eyes and let out a long breath of air like he was trying to organize his own thoughts. “So, what information do you actually have? What part is the commission playing in this? Who else is involved?”

You needed a minute before you could answer him. The rapid fire of questions put in perspective how little you really had despite the weeks of searching. “I– I don’t have much. But, I know where we returned the children to is vacant now. There wasn’t any sign that anyone was even there, certainly not a whole facility like we saw. Definitely a professional cleanup job. I also remembered a few of the people we fought during the original mission, and, well, they evaded capture but I tracked them down. I’ve got routes they take and license plate numbers, and I think I know where they moved the children to. I just don’t have a single thing to tie the commission to it all, so I don’t even know what part they’re playing in this. All I know is they’re using children as bait! Kids! Letting them be test subjects in the meantime and not caring about any of it!” 

Your chest was heaving, and you had that familiar tingling at the bridge of your nose warning you angry tears were about to build up. The only thing that prevented them from spilling over was Eijiro casually slipping his hand in yours, letting his fingers fill the spaces between yours, and squeezing tight, letting you know you’re not alone in your rage. 

“For what it’s worth, I don’t think the commission is solely behind it,” Eijiro chimed in, “They told us the reason the kids had to be returned was that there was a bigger operation at play. Someone more important they needed to apprehend. They just wouldn’t tell us who or let us work on the actual assignment. We also can’t figure out who has been assigned to work it, though, not for a lack of trying.” He went on to explain how Jiro and Bakugo both have tried breaking into secure servers to access information, but they just can’t do it without it being traced back to them. “There’s way more going on than they’re letting us know about.” 

You looked up at him. “Wait, everyone is working on this?” 

“Well, technically, they’re working your disappearance. We just figured the best way to do that was to learn more about what happened to the kids. Helping them helps get you back. ” 

“But… if you guys get caught–” 

“We don’t give a damn!” Eijiro stated bluntly. “We know the risks. We’ve all decided to remain at the agency and work as covertly as possible until we could find something that led us to you. Plus, you are actively wanted! Technically, we’re just doing our jobs!”

Your head felt like it was spinning. This was exactly what you were trying to avoid. You didn’t want them to have to sneak around and put their futures and careers on the line. Now that you were back, if you were found at Eijiro’s place, he’d be in so much trouble– if the commission learned Aizawa knew and Eri helped you, then they’d also–

“I think this is enough for one day.” Aizawa spoke up, pulling you out of your turbulent thoughts, “Y/N needs to rest for the next few days, so I’ll look into things on my end. See if there’s any information I can access that you guys can’t. In the meantime, is there anything you need from the room you were renting?” 

A change of clothes probably would’ve been beneficial, not that you minded being drowned in one of Eijiro’s hoodies. 

“I’ve got extra toothbrushes and shower stuff here…” Eijiro told you, and you nodded along. 

“Just a change of clothes then, please. And I’ve been keeping everything I’ve found on a thumb drive. The overhead light in the room is busted. I keep the drive inside the lightbulb. Oh, there’s also a laptop I was using. That’s in the bottom right drawer of the dresser.” 

He nodded his head, making a mental note of everything while jotting down the address you gave him. 

“Alright then, Eri and I will head over there later and then swing back here to drop things off tonight. Eijiro, I suggest you try and stick to as normal of a schedule as possible.” He stood up and stretched his back. “Don’t give the commission any reason to suspect something. Call if you need anything at all.” 

The both of you agreed quickly, and he sent Eri in to say goodbye, promising to see you soon.

Eijiro saw them off. You heard his side door close as you laid back down in his bed and squeezed your eyes shut, doing everything you could not think about all the people you've managed to involve.

He was still processing the fact that you were back, that you were okay, for the most part. He couldn’t even begin to imagine the toll these last few weeks had to have put on you. Of course, he could see it in your heavy eyelids, your cheeks also weren’t as full as he was used to seeing, and he noticed a few healing injuries when his hoodie would slip off your shoulder. 

He wanted to ask you about all of it. Find out what you’d learned, where you’d been, but he knew now wasn’t the right time to ask those questions. 

After Aizawa and Eri took their leave, you curled up in his bed. Your back was towards the door, the blanket tucked under your arm, and he was going to just shut the door and let you sleep when he saw your shoulder tremble and watched you curl in on yourself. All of this finally becoming too much for you to keep in. 

Quietly he walked into the room and sat on the side of the bed again. He rested his hand on your shoulder, and when you didn’t move away from the contact, he brushed his thumb and forth while searching for something he could say to make this better, help make it all make sense. But, your hand curled around his wrist and lightly tugged. 

“You want me to lay down?” You nodded, and he easily slipped into the ritual you two reserved for particularly stressful days. “How’d ya want me, sweets?”

“Can you be little spoon this time?” 

“You got it.” 

He slid under the blankets to make things easier and laid on his side while you turned around. Your arm slid over his torso, and fingers gripped the front of his shirt right over his heart while your face burrowed between his shoulder blades. He just smiled and covered your hand with his own, happy to have you clinging to him as much as you wanted. 

“Comfy?” He asked and felt your foot trying to wiggle between his legs. When he let your limbs tangle with his, he felt the quietest, mmhm, reverberate against his back and smiled, “Good.” 

Time trickled by and, for a while, you didn't speak. He thought you might've even fallen asleep. "Missed you, Ei. A lot."

He wondered if you felt the way his heart suddenly started beating in overdrive. But, before he could make any declarations or say anything at all, he heard your quiet little snores and just smiled. He'd consider it the highest form of flattery that you felt comfortable enough to fall asleep with him like this.

Sleep hadn't been easy for him to come by these last several weeks either but with you wrapped around him, his eyelids felt like they had weights drawing them downward. So, he kissed the back of your hand, mumbling back just how much he missed you too, and then he seized the opportunity for sleep as well. 

Eijiro couldn’t remember the last time he slept so soundly. When he didn’t spend half the night tossing and turning. It’d been months. And he knew the only reason he was resting so peacefully now was thanks to you being in bed, snuggled up right by his side. 

He would’ve slept the rest of the day away, letting you nap as long as you need to, if only the loud banging on his front door hadn’t woken you up. 

You scrambled up from the bed, nearly tripping in the process, and looked ready to bolt out the nearest window. “Sweet, go in the bathroom, lock the door. Got it?” You nodded your head, and he waited until the lock clicked into place before straightening out his shirt and heading for the door as a fist pounded out another series of harsh knocks. 

He couldn’t have been sure who would be on the other side. Aizawa was never this loud, and he wasn’t expecting anyone else. His heart started to speed up even as he told himself to remain calm. If someone somehow figured out you were here, they would have to go through him if they wanted you. 

Eijiro pulled open the door and breathed a sigh of relief even as his best friend barked,  “She's here, isn't she?” 

“Excuse me?” Eijiro looked at him with a quirked brow. 

“You're not this dumb, hair for brains!” Katsuki shoved him aside and went into the house. “You found her, didn’t you?” 

“Katsuki, I really don’t know what you’re talking about—“ 

“Save it! You haven’t taken one fucking day off since the day Y/N left. And then you called off t’day, bright and early! Ya don't look sick!” 

“I just wanted a day off, man!” He was barely able to keep up with how fast Katsuki was talking. 

“Hah, sure, the same day that we get sent out to investigate a suspicious report in the warehouse district. The same district that earphones told me she told you about yesterday! And what do we find when we get there? Blood and a giant sliced hole in the fence!”

“Well, that sure doesn’t sound good—“

“The blood was hers! We had it tested! She broke in, and she’s hurt, and I’m damn sure you know something about it!” 

Katsuki’s finger jabbed Eijiro right in the center of his chest. 

“You were always really good at figuring things out, weren’t you, Kat?” 

Both men snapped their heads to the hallway, looking right at you. Eijiro was willing to continue playing to fool. He’d lie if it meant providing you peace of mind, even if it was to his best friend. But he was so glad he didn’t actually have to. 

“‘Course, I am.” He chuckled and walked right up to you. Enveloping you in a warm hug. “Smarter than those commission bastards. We took care of the evidence, by the way. Well, your blood, at least.” 

“What’s that mean?” 

He let you go and shrugged. I was patrolling with Pinky when we found it. Grabbed a small sample for ourselves. And then, well, Pinky swore she saw some suspicious activity on the ground. To get down there fast enough, she had to use her quirk and happened to destroy the blood splatter in the process… you know how she can go kinda wild with the acid sometimes.” 

Eijiro laughed and shook his head, but he saw that look of worry in your eyes again. “Hey… I’m sure if it wasn’t your blood, they would’ve turned it over. Right?” 

“Duh.” 

But that look of concern remained. He knew how this would look to you. Between him keeping you hidden, people needing to come heal you, and your friends destroying and withholding evidence, he knew you had to be putting the blame on yourself. And the way you wrapped your arms around yourself just confirmed his theory. 

“Hey, I got an idea,” As he walked over to you, he turned his head towards Katsuki, “You can hang around for a bit, yeah?” Katsuki nodded his blonde head, and then Eijiro rested his hands on your shoulders. “Perfect. So, why don’t Kat and I make up some dinner and you can take a bath or a shower? Might take away some of the aches and pains…” 

“Works for me. Looks like you’ve barely been eatin’ anyway!” He was already shrugging his jacket off and heading into the kitchen. 

Eijiro led you back to his room and right into the ensuite, flicking on the light. “Bath or shower?” 

“Shower sounds good.” 

He nodded and slid the glass door open to turn the water on, and made sure to point out where the shampoo, conditioner, and body wash could be found while hanging up a fresh towel for you on the rack right beside his. “I know they won’t be back with your clothes yet, but I’ll set some out on my dresser for you.” 

He was getting ready to close the door and give you your privacy, “Hey, Eiji,” He stopped, and his eyes met yours, “Thank you. For everything.” 

“You never gotta thank me, sweets. ‘M just happy you’re back.” 

There was a small smile on your face just as the door shut, one that brought a little shine back into your pretty eyes. He was in love with that smile and the light in your eyes. And he was gonna do everything in his power to make sure nothing dimmed it ever again. 

By the time Eijiro got back out to the kitchen, Katsuki already had a plethora of ingredients strewn about the countertop, each of which required to make your favorite meal. He took a break, though, when Eijiro began washing his hands to help, leaning against the opposite counter and scrutinizing his best friend. 

“So, you found her.” 

“Technically, she found me. Tried choking me out on that roof.” 

Katsuki nodded. “And her blood?” 

“My fault. She jumped me from behind– we didn’t realize who the other was until it was all too late.” 

“So, how’s she walkin’ and talkin’ right now? Ei… there was a lot of blood.” 

Eijiro put himself to work, washing off some vegetables to keep busy, and told Katsuki everything that happened since the two of you had been reunited. 

“We tellin’ anyone else she’s–” 

“NO!” He cut him off before the question was even finished. “She’s terrified of putting anyone else at risk. Hells, I’m surprised she came out here to let you know.” 

Katsuki just laughed and got back to work. “Didn’t need her t’fuckin’ tell me she was here. You’re shit at lying. Always have been. Would’ve figured it out soon enough.” 

“Not from me, you wouldn’t.” 

A blonde brow was raised at the remark. “You sayin’ you would’ve kept on lying to me?” 

Eijiro didn’t hesitate. He looked the man he considered to be his best friend dead in the eye, “If it meant keepin’ her and everyone else safe, that includes your ass, your damn right I would’ve.” 

Katsuki wasn’t mad. He didn’t look it, nor did he say anything to indicate he was. In fact, he grinned like he already knew the answer to his next question. “And if she leaves again?” 

The water turned off. “Then I’ll follow wherever she goes.” 

“Because you’re in love with her?” 

He sucked in a deep breath, “Because I’m in love with her.”

#Read the Warnings #mha #bnha #mha fan fic #bnha fan fic #kirishima #kirishima x y/n #kirishima x reader #kirishima fluff #kirishima angst #kirishima hurt comfort #kirishima fanfic #scar's writing again 📕 #best red rock shark ♥️🦈

[roadsidebrambles]

About the tumblr sunset

I just saw the verge article and wanted to come on asap to update the post; however it has been locked by Vaspider and it seems that is due to the updated information which is fair.

It seems that tumbr is streamlining, not sunsetting. Which is great!

That said, the article came out at 4:30PM November 9th.

When I reblogged the post late at night November 8th / early in the morning (around 3:00AM) November 9th, I didn't have the information in that article available to me.

I wanted to share what I did have at the time and put people that were nervous and upset at ease because from the information available at the time we had between months and possibly years to back up our blogs and test out other websites and coordinate where to go next which was a major silver lining.

I also wanted people to take steps to save what they felt was important because knowing ahead of time gave people that opportunity.

When other posts started circulating yesterday with better news I reblogged those but since I saw the verge article today I wanted to try to edit my reblog and now I'm here on my own post since I can't.

After reading the last reblog from Vaspider and the reblog they were replying to, I want to say this:

I made it very clear in my reblog that we had months to years to back stuff up and coordinate on where to transition to.

That was at the very top before the links that I added. I even mentioned Black Friday as a great time to pick up storage for backing up blogs and posts because things seemed to be disappointing but thankfully not imminent.

Two of the three links that I added clarified that things weren't happening immediately but that it would take place over months to years.

Those are now likely inaccurate but at the time when that was all I had- those also plainly stated that there was no reason to panic. That's why I included all three instead of just one.

Framing me or anyone else in that post's reblog chain before I came in as overreacting or panicing is incorrect, and shows that the post wasn't read, but skimmed.

Even if the post was only skimmed, claiming that people were overreacting by organizing a place to move to and backing up our stuff/encouraging others to do the same over the next few months/years before the site became unusable is still uncharitable.

Anyway, I'm glad staff is probably removing tumblr live that's pretty cool.

Hopefully they'll find a way to monetize that people respond well to.

To be clear I'm not going to debate people about this. If needed I'll be locking the post.

#tumblr sunset #tumblr death 2023 #tumblr death 2024

[all-or-nothing-baby]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💖

@slytherkins and @shealynn88 my loves, thank you both muchly for my tags! it may have taken me 6months (+?!) to get to this... but LET'S GO! lol.

(okay i'm a proper rebel me so i'm picking my FAVES FROM 5 FANDOMS instead bc nobody can stop meeeeeee mwuhahaha!)

NOTE: if you're going to read any of these fics, firstly tysm ily <3. secondly and most importantly, PLS CHECK THE REST OF THE TAGS ON AO3 AS I'VE ONLY LISTED A SELECT FEW HERE.

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1. STRANGER THINGS (Harringrove)

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HOUNDS OF LOVE (Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington, Canon Universe, Past Underage, Angst, Semi-public Sex, Porn with Love, POV Billy, 2282, EXPLICIT)

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Billy has always been a coward. Ever since—ever since Her. Since she did the double-up on him. Since she switched off and let her light go out of his life forever by taking off and leaving Billy Boy Blue's sorry ass behind.

Harrington doesn’t know any of this though. Nobody does. Nobody will. And nobody should anyways because Billy, he shouldn't be so pathetic. He’s supposed to suck it up and shut the fuck up not moon over it, not be a little pussy while he's getting his boy-pussy railed. And he certainly shouldn't be moaning through this feral fucking need of his like some frilly pink-pantied cheerleader, hell.

Never did know what was good for you, boy.

OR

Billy just wants to get royally fucked.

Doesn't want this. Doesn't want to be coddled. Doesn't want to be treated nice. Doesn't want some rich boy's dumb lovin'.

Even if he actually, really does.

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CHERRY BOMB SERIES (Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington, Canon Universe, Pining, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Getting Together, POV Steve Harrington, Teen-Explicit)

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A collection of Harringrove fics which hopefully read well as stand-alones BUT will also eventually—and are intended to—make up one big Steve Harrington POV 'Five times Steve wonders... & One Time He Doesn't Have To' Getting Together story.

EDIT: Now with an added little interlude in the middle which will bump up the final number of works.

Updates as and when xp

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2. SUPERNATURAL (deancas)

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THE LAST TIME (Castiel/Dean Winchester, AU—Modern Setting, Sex-work, Not Really Non-requited, POV Dean, 2269, MATURE)

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Hey, baby. Wanna spend the night with an angel?

No such thing, Dean had tried. But it had come out as a question, a challenge. An almost Prove me wrong... please? And with a smile which he couldn't have helped if he'd tried.

OR

Hurt/Comfort Modern Sex Worker AU where maybe fate and free will can exist side by side.

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WET EARTH'S CALLED MUD (Castiel/Dean Winchester, Canon Divergence, Angst, First Kiss, Getting Together, POV Dean, 1905, TEEN)

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Dean, I've got you

And I realise: he always has me.

Sheet and fork lightning fires up the whole sky and thunder cracks its huge whip above us, clouds bursting like huge water balloons, the downpour soaking us in seconds.

Everything is terrifying.

OR

Fix-It-Fic for Jack in the Box WHERE THEY ACTUALLY TALK DAMMIT. And maybe do the thing they should've been doing for 11 bloody years.

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THE DAY THE WORLD WENT AWAY (Castiel/Dean Winchester, Endverse AU, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Hopeful Ending (as much as endverse can be), POV Dean, Porn with Love, 7346, EXPLICIT)

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Dean had come to apologise. To thank Cas. But pieces of Cas' broken heart were now on show, stabbing right through his beautiful face, slicing through Jimmy's muscles and skin. Dean could see it all now, pouring out through the jagged cuts; fear, shame, all the hurt—the lion's share of it of which Dean himself had caused. Cas was now wearing his pain on full display all over his body, like a shiny fucking outfit of the day.

Dean had never hated himself more. Even after torturing an endless stream of once-human souls in hell.

Cas let the pistol drop to the floor.

"Then what, Dean?" he choked, "why are you here?" His wet eyes searched Dean's with such wretched frustration, Dean couldn't take it a second longer. Had to make it go away, end the pain. Ironically, Dean realised, he did want to make everything stop for Cas—for both of them—even if only for a little while. Just not by means of a bullet.

How the hell do you make the whole world just stop?

OR

Quite possibly the only not-completely-100%-gut-wrenching Endverse fic you might ever find.

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THURSDAY'S SMILE (Canon Universe, First Kiss, Getting Together, Proof I Can Write Fluff, POV Dean, 1381, TEEN)

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Cas walked around the stainless steel kitchen island to Dean's side, his eyes now keen on the square of dressing protecting a nasty cut on the left side of Dean's forehead. As he reached his destination, his right knee automatically slid between Dean's knees to part them, allowing him to stand in between—and closer to Dean. Like, a lot closer.

Dean tried his best to take a slow and secret, calming deep breath.

It didn't help. Now his sense of smell was just reaffirming what his heart was already screaming at him with each beat:

CAS-CAS, YES-YES, CAS-CAS, YES-YES

Cas peeled back the surgical tape and lifted the gauze to check the cut.

And then it just kind of... happened. Dean was tired, hadn't even had his first essential cup of joe yet, let alone the necessary second. It was just a dumb joke, really.

OR

When it finally happens, it's on a Thursday.

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3. TEEN WOLF (sterek)

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LOVE LIKE GHOSTS (Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Canon Universe, Established Relationship, Stiles Has Self-esteem Issues, Choking, Consensual Non-consent, POV Stiles, 713, EXPLICIT)

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They both know not talking about this isn't okay, isn't healthy, but—and God knows why—Derek loves Stiles. So, the big guy, he gets it: that the best thing isn't always the right thing.

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DRAW YOUR SWORDS (Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Canon Universe, Angst, Pining, Getting Together, POV Derek, 7914, EXPLICIT)

.

Something inside Derek snaps. No, not snaps. Clicks into place. He snarls, "That's my line, little pig."

Shit.

Stiles blinks, twice. Three times. "What?" and he’s flailing at Derek's reference.

"If you're the little pig…" Derek's predator eyes flick deftly across each of Stiles' delicate features, "...then what does that make me?" 

Realisation crosses sharp yet soft bone structure and Stiles answers, slowly.

"You're the big…"

Derek moves impossibly closer.

"...bad…"

A goddamn virus.

"...wolf."

OR

Derek keeps his distance from Stiles, regardless of how he feels about him. It's better that way. Better for Stiles.

But when Stiles has had enough of pretending there's nothing between them, just how much longer can Derek's wolf be tamed?

.

INCLUDES MY ART!

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THE CROSS HE BEARS (Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Canon Universe, Established Relationship, Wolf!Derek (for a time), Derek Whump, Hurt/Comfort, Pre-slash, POV, Derek, 702, MATURE)

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Stiles knows exactly how to take care of his wolf.

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4. BBC SHERLOCK (jimlock)

MY NAME IS A KILLING WORD (Jim Moriarty/Sherlock Holmes, Canon Universe, First Kiss(es), Sherlock's First Time, Getting Together, Jim Moriarty in Love, POV Jim, 671, MATURE)

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He's so funny. Not to them. But to me, he's so funny.

The first time I kissed him—up against a wall, John just around the corner, Sherlock taller than me but certainly feeling small—he was bait on my hook. So much so, I was sure he'd squirm as such but he froze. A museum pillar of what the fuck? Didn't struggle as I tasted Stiff Upper Lip whilst trying to coax out a passion I just knew he had buried inside of him. Then he whispered Moriarty, like a question, and it was hilarious. Hilarious because it was so infuriatingly Sherlock, and hilarious 'cause it was hot as naked sin, I remember thinking as I spirited away, giggling.

OR

The first time Sherlock finally calls his nemesis by his given name. (Moriarty POV).

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5. PREACHER (the unholy trinity)

WELL, I HEARD THERE WAS A SECRET CHORD (Proinsias Cassidy/Jesse Custer/Tulip O'Hare, Canon Universe, Established Relationship, Poly Relationship—F-M-M, PWP, Light Dom/Sub, POV Tulip, 1326, EXPLICIT)

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How do the Unholy Trinity manage to turn anything remotely pious into something truly ungodly?

Like fucking pros, that's how.

With Tulip hating on Genesis, she finds a way to take back a little control... with the help of a certain raucous Irish vampire.

OR

The PWP Dom!Tulip Sub!Jessidy fic nobody asked for.

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PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE TUMBLR DON'T EAT THIS IT'S TAKEN ME FORACTUALBLOODYEVER!

#asks #ask games #writing asks #fic recs #fanfic #fanfiction #harringrove #stranger things #deancas #destiel #spn #sterek #eternal sterek #teen wolf #jimlock #bbc sherlock #the unholy trinity #preacher #wonderful asks #wonderful people #aonb answers back

[epersonae]

A day being like

Get woken up by cat way too early

Feed the cat

Go back to sleep

Wake up the usual amount of early, write the beginning of a new fic

Wear one of their t-shirts

Walk in the beautiful sunny morning and take pictures of flowers and think about those few days at home over the holiday weekend before they died

Have a totally normal conversation with the barista, show off the fat bees tattoo without explaining that it's in memory of them

Draw a tarot card, remember the card I drew while I was home last year (4 of wands: that deck, which they gave me, is still in time out)

Edit a chapter to post a day late, chat about editing suggestions with my beta

Realize that the next chapter has some Big Sad content so maybe I will try to post it on time

Wonder if they would have encouraged this terrible new idea I started last night, remember the day in 2018 when I wrote something I didn't even ship and they said it was the best kiss I'd ever written

Water the veggies, remember how I had to let last year's garden die, get mad at my old landlord again

Eat open-faced cheese and tomato sandwiches, wish for someone to share the tomato with, remember that Ryn hated tomatoes but they tried once for me

Nap

Wonder if they would have been friends with people I've met through ofmd

Get excited that Emi is liking the mafia AU that I like

Update Straight Guy Friend about who's going to be here next weekend, read his DM grumping about his new copy of Sunset Tree on vinyl has a scratch, remind each other why everyone was excited for cassette and CD back in the day (look at Ryn's record player, the disc on it that I just bought, think again how it was being made while they were still alive, I think, but they never got to hear it)

Remember that yesterday was their best friend's birthday, hope her copy arrives soon

Rubber ducking in video chat

Write a half a sentence of a fic

Write two sentences of a different fic

Feed the cat

My weekly zoom call with my knitting group, hear all about someone's job hunt, give each other project advice, joke about being able to spot common projects "in the wild"

Spent 15 minutes trying to decide whether to go to [redacted] to return something, because [redacted] works there, or at least did several months ago. Do it anyway, he's not there, it's fine.

Get a new idea for how to resolve a plot point while reading discord in the sonic drive thru

Sing out loud in the car on the way home wishing I could sing to them

Don't cry, somehow, all day (so far)

#This is sad week #Don't know why I'm sharing this #Except that: the grief is just all around me at all times

[thescientistowl]

Dawn Eases Night

Right, so after a little reworking, I finally finshed writing the first chapter of my first Horizon/Niloy fic! I haven't written ANYTHING in a few years, so I am incredibly rusty at this (and for that, I am sorry).

It is flasback heavy, but they will be clearly laid out with underlined and italised timestamps, so you'll know when we're back in the present... hopefully, anyway. I also haven't had it beta read, and it isn't edited to the best of my already terrible ability. Again, I am so sorry.

I'm posting it here, on our beloved hellsite, because the Horizon and Niloy fanbases here are based. I also don't have an Ao3 account, and I'm sure my old FF.net account has probaly died by now anyway.

The story takes place post HFW, so expect spoilers, and at the minute I have warnings for canon typical violence and occasional strong language. This WILL change down the line as the story is going to visit some dark topics, but I'll update those warnings as I go.

So, the story is under the cut! Please enjoy the first chapter of Dawn Eases Night! If you want to send me any constructive criticism, then please feel free to do so :) .

Chapter 1: The Trail We Leave Behind

     Red. Purple. Screaming. Aloy was surrounded by it all.

     A thick miasma of acrid smoke filled her lungs, stealing her air, choking her from the inside. GAIA was dead. And the world… the world was burning.

     Around her, machines of black and gold and furious purple tore down those that she loved. Beta’s cries were snuffed out as furious Spectres surrounded her. Zo, Kotallo and Alva lay crushed in a Slaughterspine’s wake. Erend, as brave as he was, had tried to handle several machines at once. They shot him dead. Talanah and Petra shot together in unison, but they were set upon by Stalkers, filled with darts and left to bleed. And behind them, a group of Chargers, bearing riders, fought back as best as they could before they too were ripped apart… but the last man standing among them put up the most furious of fights. Even then, Nil fell too.

     Aloy tried to scream, but sound would not come. Movement would not carry her to their sides.

      More familiar faces of her friends - of Carja, Tenakth, Oseram, Nora, Utaru, Quen and Banuk – fell to the machines or the toxic air that stole their breath, and there, in the distance, were Varl and Rost, their skin grey and their eyes cold, beckoning her towards her own demise, promising her that death was the release that she deserved.

     It was never supposed to be like this. She was supposed to fix it! How could she not fix it!?

     There was so much pain. She burned, she sputtered, and above her the red light of a now not so distant enemy loomed over her, mocking her. The screams of the people of the world, innocent people who couldn’t understand what was happening to them, filled her head.

     She had failed. She had failed all of them. It was all her fault…

     Aloy woke with a sharp breath, her lungs aching for the air that had been denied to her in her dreams. With frantic eyes she searched her surroundings; a storage chest sat nearby, shadowed by a set of well used training mannequins and old bookshelves filled with small tokens from her travels. She took stock of her position, her body laid out flat on a comfortable surface and covered with several blankets. Her bed. She was in her bedroom.

     Forcing steady breaths, Aloy slowly counted backwards from ten, feeling her chest rise and fall to the rhythm she had implemented on herself, and deliberately drowned out the sound of her panicked heartbeat. She needed to move. Movement would clear her head.

     Rising slowly and methodically from her mattress of Utaru make, Aloy moved around the desk that hid her bed from the full view of the door, her fingers running along the cool metal to help ground herself. The recycled air around her was cool without the warmth of her blankets but she found that she did not mind it at all – it reminded her of early mornings spent in the wilds, when the world was not yet quite awake, and the sun’s first rays had yet to warm the landscape.

     With no real sense of direction, Aloy followed her feet as her body ran on instinct, leading her towards the common room beyond the door that opened with no command. 

     The Base was awfully quite now that most of her friends had returned to their homes, as free as they possibly could be before their looming fight against an apparently insurmountable threat. The Zeniths may have been defeated by their hands, but they had left them with one last parting shot, albeit an unintended one.

     Nemesis. An angry red lingered in the forefront of her vision, the last vestige of her almost fevered dream, and Aloy fought to shake it away, taking a few unsteady steps into the open space as she did.

     The common room itself was quiet and empty, save for the gentle hum of the holographs and electronics surrounding her, and in the dim light Aloy could see the trinkets and decorations left behind by her friends; Erend had left his Machine Strike board and several kegs of Scrappersap, Zo her many, many plants, and Kotallo’s piece of the Bulwark remained standing proud nearby. Alva had even graced the floors with a few Quen rugs before she had returned to Legacy’s Landfall.  GAIA had taken to humming quietly in the small hours of the morning, her digitised voice a soothing and gradual wake up call to all in the Base, but one that was broken by a soft snore that came from Beta’s new bedroom – the one that had once been shared by Varl and Zo – and Aloy smiled. All of these things served to remind her that her night terrors were wrong: she wasn’t alone.

     So then, why did she feel like the loneliest soul on the face of this planet? 

     With little else more to do than sit, Aloy made her way to the breakfast bar in the centre of the room, her naked feet padding gently across the soft Quen mats (and Aloy really would have to thank Alva for these the next time they spoke – they felt so good under her toes!). She found her perch atop one of the barstools and, with a great sigh of relief, rested her head against the metal of the counter, the contact alone cooling her sweat-soaked forehead. When had she even begun to sweat?

     As her arms came to lay flat next to her head, Aloy felt a small and wooden thing brush against her knuckles. A tingle burned alight in the base of her head, as she looked up and came face to face with the most delicate figurine of a Charger. Her fingers reached out to stroke it, a smile casting across her lips the whole time, and her eyes flicked to another figure next to it, also made of wood, but one that was cast in the shape of a Tallneck. Both figures had been dyed, the blue of calmed lights contrasting with the light grey of the machine’s metal plating. Both were crafted by a pair of hands that could create such miniature wonders, but they could also destroy, killing in the most visceral of ways.

     Memories of campfires and long conversations flooded her vision. Sometimes there were bandit camps on the horizon, and sometimes there were only the wilds, the dunes of the Sundom or the rolling hills of the Nora Sacred Lands. But always there was her, and him; the man that she had first encountered surrounded by corpses as she approached on the back of her newly acquired Strider, who had spoken so softly to her as though he had not just run through several bandits with his blade and bow.

     Her smile grew as she remembered his introduction. ‘Call me Nil’, he had insisted, and though Aloy’s instinct knew this to be a false identity she had, at the time, no desire to push for the truth from this stranger who had offered to help her with the nearby bandit camp – one that threatened the Nora that she was now sworn to protect. He had only been of aid to her then, a temporary companion to help her on what was only one small part of her larger journey… or so that was what she had originally thought.

----------

Several months ago, outside the Gatelands camp…

     “I thought we were partners.”

     “I have my own roads to follow, Nil.”

     Aloy’s stride was unwavering as she walked away from what had been the Gatelands bandit camp. Her once empty packs now sat heavy at her waist, full of the slagshine glass that she had taken from each marauder that she had killed. Hopefully the pieces would fetch a decent price - she was running low on supplies.

     Two heavy footsteps echoed in the open canyon around them, and Nil appeared in the corner of her sight. He easily outpaced her with his long legs, and soon he was leading the way down the path that Aloy had intended to travel alone.

     “And they seem to lead back to bandits.” He countered, looking over his shoulder with a crooked smile. “That works for me, I’m not suggesting a Carja wedding. I’m never lonely when there’s killing to be done.”

     Aloy rolled her eyes. She was beginning to regret engaging with him in the Sacred Lands, because now their meetings were becoming infuriatingly frequent and Aloy was sure that he was following her. Rost had often warned her of the dangers that men like Nil could pose - those who appeared friendly, but who would later appear from nowhere by pure ‘chance’… She would have to put an arrow between his eyes if this continued.

     If only she knew of another route to Meridian. If only she still had her Strider, but the damn thing had sacrificed itself in a fight with a roaming Sawtooth. But Aloy was not worried – she could override several machines now, but any override made on a machine that she could ride seemed to be its own, very unique, override - one that seemed to remember its past lives in the several machines it had inhabited. Perhaps Aloy would have to name this particular piece of override code…  

     As they drew level with the opening landscape, Aloy spotted something huge and bulky in the distance; a large and terrifying bipedal machine that roamed the heights above them. Aloy had never seen a machine so big, save for the Tallneck at Devil’s Thirst, and so she ignored Nil and instead raised her hand to her focus. With a melodic blip a burst of purple light encased her in a large orb, one seemingly made of an ever shifting net, and the machine - and it’s weak points - were highlighted clearly for her to see. As the machine turned towards the path on which they walked, the old-world glyphs formed a name in front of her eyes: Thunderjaw.

     Her pulse quickened in anticipation of a fight, but then the machine turned and moved away, seemingly unaware of their presence.

     A short breath of relief, and Aloy dismissed the web of light around her.

     Nil, meanwhile, had continued talking. He didn’t even seem to notice that Aloy had not been paying attention to him. But as her ears reattuned to his voice she heard only words of violence, of murder, of bloodshed. Of war. She heard how he revelled in it, and something in her core quaked, as it had done, during their assaults on Gatelands and Devil’s Thirst. How could someone enjoy such chaos? There was still so much about the world beyond the Sacred Lands that she did not know, but she was quickly learning more and more about the ‘Red Raids’, and from the sound of his words Aloy wondered if Nil had seen or had been a part of this war.

     Her curiosity was piqued.

     “So, you used to be a soldier?” She interrupted his monologising, not caring for the furrow of Nil’s brows as he frowned. “You fought for the Carja?”

     “For them, against them,” his expression slowly softened as he responded, “an empire always finds its wars. You can’t be picky.”

     The path below them followed the slight slope of a gentle hillside, and Aloy soon found herself keeping an even pace with the strange Carja beside her as he took shorter steps. The sun beat down on them relentlessly, but where Aloy was clearly beginning to suffer and sweat from the heat Nil instead seemed to revel in it, stretching out his arms to the warming rays.

     He looked at her pointedly before he continued.

     “The new king, Avad, saw things differently. Called an investigation into war crimes. Aren’t all wars a crime to someone?”

     Silently, Aloy agreed.

     “Still,” he continued, his voice so casually matter-of-fact, “I raised my hand and volunteered.”

     Aloy stopped, her feet digging into the loose stones and dirt beneath her. “You volunteered? To investigate?”

     Nil also stopped, turning around to face her head on. From his lower position on the path, he was finally on an equal eye level with her.

     “No, I volunteered my confession. No sense wasting time with an investigation.” A small smile played with his lips, and his eyes gleamed in the sunlight. “I was sent to Sunstone Rock for two years. The trade was fair.”

     He turned on his heel then, continuing his descent, and Aloy, now infuriated with his indirect answers, stomped after him.

     “They sent you to a rock for two years?” She demanded, confused. “Is this some kind of Carja ritual?”

     Nil laughed then, his voice echoing from the few surrounding rock faces, and Aloy silently fumed. She didn’t know! How dare he laugh at her.

     “No, no, Sunstone Rock is a prison,” he continued through his dying laughter. “South of Meridian. South of the Raingathers. Our new Sun-King is a believer in rehabilitation - as am I.” He looked once more over his shoulder as Aloy caught up to him. “In the heat of a stone cell, in the dark, I learned to focus on what was truly important to me.”

     Aloy wondered what it was that Nil considered to be ‘truly important’ and then balked at the thought. Maybe she didn’t want to know.

     “What were these things you did, Nil?”

     “Acceptable things, under the circumstances.”

     She frowned. “Acceptable to who?” Perhaps she didn’t want to know the answer to this either.

     He smiled, and Aloy supposed it was a genuine attempt to put her at ease, but the glint of… something… in those cold silver eyes did absolutely nothing to calm the sense of dread that was slowly beginning to claw its way up from her stomach.

     “I don’t make decisions.” He stated with a finality to his tone that was so blunt it sent her mind reeling. “Let’s just say the rules of engagement suited me. But rules are important. A structure.” He paused. “A cage.”

     Aloy was wary as he rounded on her, her fingers instinctively flexing for a weapon.

     Nil’s voice was low as he took one small step towards her, keeping a respectable distance between them as he did. “Otherwise… you know of those places? Lonely places where people once were, now just a hole cut into the world? Chances are, I was there before.”

     He gazed down at her, unblinking, his eyes thinning, and Aloy knew that he was scrutinising her. She wouldn’t back down. Instead, Aloy straightened her back and glared up at him, her entire frame exuding defiance at whatever it was that Nil was examining her for. If he was trying to decide if she was easy prey, then he should already have his answer from their shared time at the bandit camps.

     Seconds passed until Nil’s piercing gaze relaxed. Clearly, he had found what it was that he had been looking for.

     “A brief encounter for us, but the end for them,” he smiled pleasantly, looking back down the hill to where the path forked. One branch was the more direct road to Meridian. The other led away from civilisation and further into the rocky landscape of the Sundom. And now Nil was making his way towards that very path.

     Briefly he paused, turning to her with a smile that was all teeth and violence. “They were squalid lives anyway.”

     Aloy could only stand, stunned, as he slowly vanished. Yes, the bandit’s lives were forfeit for their crimes, she agreed with him on that, but his love for bloodshed, his obvious pride in the unnamed crimes he had committed during the war… he was no better than the bandits he deemed below him.

Hopefully, said bandits would simply wise up and leave. Hopefully she would never have to see or hear from Nil again.

----------

A month later, in the jungles of The Jewel…

     To say Aloy was frustrated would be an understatement. Between the bloody gash on her thigh and the clumsy loss of her tripcaster and medical supplies, Aloy wasn’t sure if today was just a bad day, or if her lack of sleep was beginning to take its toll. But there was so much that she had to do, and now that her new ‘friend’ Sylens was there to constantly remind her of the perpetual march of time, Aloy had very little in the way of calm moments where she could simply rest. Sleep… She had forgotten what that felt like. She had learned, however, that power naps were not an acceptable substitute.

     Blackwing Snag lay behind her, now bereft of any trace of bandit life. Each of her shots had been quick and clean, until the leader of the crew, a woman from another tribe, the Tenakth, had found her. It had quickly become messy, and at some point the woman, Ullia, had angled her blade so precisely that it had cleanly cut through the leg of Aloy’s leather leggings and into the flesh of her thigh. It wasn’t a life-threatening injury, but it was a painfully persistent one.

     At least Janeva would be pleased; Ullia had been Aloy’s final contract from the warden at Sunstone Rock.

     “I was sent to Sunstone Rock for two years…”

     Aloy had asked about Nil during her initial meeting with Janeva, curious to see if she could learn more about the hunter who had, somehow, crossed paths with her twice since their combined assault at the Gatelands camp.

     “He was born under a long and dark shadow, but he wasn’t a knife without a thought behind it,” they had said. “He had honour. Old-fashioned. His time here… boiled it to the surface.”

     Aloy had wanted to ask just what Janeva had meant, but the warden had ushered her away with three contracts in hand. Three contracts. Three dangerous criminals. She had never wanted to be a killer of men, but Aloy supposed that had all changed with the attack on the Proving. With Rost’s death. The Eclipse. Helis.

     Her breath left her in a shudder at the memories; of Helis’s hand around her throat, his knife against the skin of her neck. Rost… oh, Rost…

     Clamping her eyes shut, Aloy moved away from the camp, limping as she did so. She needed to concentrate on returning to Sunstone Rock. She needed to let Janeva know that the job was done, and hopefully she could find something to bandage her leg with whilst she was there.

     Her trek across the humid jungle was slow, thanks to the biting pain in her leg and, Aloy thought with bitter resentment, a lack of energy. Her severe lack of rest was really beginning to rear its ugly head. Perhaps, if she had not been as exhausted as she was, Ullia would never have landed a hit on her in the first place.

     At least now, this close to a clearing, she could just about see the prison through the heat haze.

     An almost silent rustle broke her train of thought. As she had done so many times before, Aloy whipped around to face the sound, bow pulled from her shoulders and knocked with an arrow at lightning speed. Beyond the tip of her arrow there was nothing but deep jungle.

     Perhaps she was hearing things. Exhaustion did do strange things to people…

     A crack of twigs underneath feet. The sound was closer this time.

     “Where..?”

     Something shimmered in the air, lunging at her, something long and lithe, before Aloy could even think to react to it. It leapt into the air, where suddenly all pretence of stealth was gone, and a vicious looking machine of black armour and yellow armaments blinked into existence.

     Aloy dove aside, missing its attack by mere inches. Not that it made much difference. With a dangerous growl the machine moved fast, turning on her and ramming Aloy into the ground. Sharp metal claws tore at her armour, and Aloy had to kick the thing in its centre to escape from it.

     With no other thought than to escape, to hide, and hunt the damn thing from the shadows, Aloy turned and ran as best as her bloody leg would allow her, heading across the nearby stream and into the thicker body of the jungle, wild turkeys fleeing from her as she did.

     A dart flew passed her, burying itself so deep in a nearby tree that the tip could be clearly seen on the other side of the trunk. It could shoot too? Why? Wasn’t it bad enough that it could turn invisible?

     With her heart pounding in her head Aloy continued to run, weaving through trees and thick grasses in an attempt to lose it. She could no longer see it, but… was she safe? Was the damn thing hiding?

     Something hard collided with her side, then her stomach, and all air escaped her. There was the briefest sensation of uncontrolled flight before Aloy landed painfully with the ground, her head slamming into rough dirt, sending sparks exploding behind her eyes. She rolled, faster and faster until she suddenly stopped, her body crashing against a thick tree, hidden in some deep and tangled red grass, blanketed in shadow and darkness.

     The world spun, with the constant pounding of metal and high-pitched beeping echoing in her skull. A small, pathetic whimper escaped her lips as she dared to open her eyes. The sun, which had been high in the sky mere moments ago, was gone. The jungle floor was dark and calm with the sounds of night, save for the constant metal pounding and that wretched beeping. In the near distance she could see a red thrumming light. Aloy made another whimper as the light burned at her eyes.

     Then bright blue, clear behind her eyelids, before quickly turning yellow and then vanishing, leaving her in the dark once more. The pounding of metal grew unbearably close.

     Aloy just wanted silence. Peace.

     Something grazed her shoulder in the dark, but Aloy had no energy to move away from it. The touch moved from her shoulder and to her neck, and visions of knives against throats flooded her mind’s eye. Some kind of small noise escaped her and the touch, though it lingered, vanished.  

     Then, running footsteps, moving quickly away from her. Not a machine. A shrill shriek as red erupted behind her eyelids, and the howling of that invisible monstrosity. No, more than one. The metal pounding moved away at speed, leaving her to the dark and silence, and Aloy welcomed both like the old friends that they were.

     She woke to the warmth of the sun bearing down on her and birds chirping out their morning tunes. She could hear water nearby, some calm, and some crashing against rocks somewhere not too distantly. She had moved herself then, or someone else had.

     Aloy opened her eyes against the light to find herself laying out in the open, on a rock outcropping next to a river, and the Jewel spread out like a blanket on the opposite bank.

     She lay on an unfamiliar bedroll that someone had laid out for her, and just a few of her travelling packs rested by her head. As she moved to take in more of her surroundings, leaning up on her elbow for purchase and grunting with the pain and effort it took, she realised that her leg had been expertly bandaged around the large gash in her leggings, and most of her armour was missing.

     No. No, no, no, she could not be this exposed in the wilds!

     “Just relax girl,” a voice, laced with amusement, sounded somewhere behind her. “You’re safe here.”

     She knew that voice. Nil.

     Aloy fell back to the bedroll with a groan. Of all the people who could have found her, it had to be him?

     “I have to say, the colour of blood suits you.” There was a clear smile to Nil’s voice as he spoke - she could see it all too clearly in her head. “But I do believe that the idea is to wear the blood of others, and not your own.”

     “Could you please stop talking?” Aloy snapped, curling in on herself as she suddenly became all too aware of her light state of dress in his presence; her tunic and leggings were not enough protection if he decided he wanted to slide his blade between her ribs.

     She heard a slap of hands on thighs behind her, and instead of speaking Nil simply hummed to himself. It was a quiet and unfamiliar tune, but it was a pleasing little thing all the same. In fact, Aloy was quite surprised that it was at all pleasant to listen to, coming from Nil.

     But she needed to move. With a push that took more effort than it should have, Aloy forced herself to sit up straight.

     The view that met her was astonishing. A tall cliff side skirted alongside them, leading to a large waterfall - one larger than she had ever seen - and to an outcropping where a Carja tower sat proudly against the deep blue of the sky. Birds gently flew above the tower, and the few clouds that dappled sky were calm.

     “There’s another waterfall on the other side of the tower,” Nil began, obviously following the movement of her eyes. “It is quite impressive, isn’t it?”

     Aloy frowned, slowing turning toward his voice. “I thought I’d asked you to keep quiet?”

    And the world suddenly stopped.

     Nil was sat by one of the few trees that surrounded them, hidden partially in some ferns, but his armoured jacket, pauldrons, vambraces and scarf were gone, as was his ridiculous feathered headdress, the clothing all set aside with his own things. The only cover he had on his top half were wrappings that were tightly wound around both of his forearms.

     His hair was as jet black as his beard and shaved at the sides, with longer hair at his crown. Currently, said hair was sticking out in all sorts of uncontrolled directions, but even from here it looked so invitingly soft.

     Nil’s chest was another magnificent sight. Yes, the parts that Aloy had already been able to see were quite beautiful to look at (she had to give him that much credit, at least) and once or twice she had needed to stop herself from staring. But now the full musculature of his torso was laid bare to her, as was the sheer strength of his arms.

     It was with some shame that Aloy only found his severe lack of chest hair to be Nil’s singular physical let down, but she had noticed on her travels that a lack of body hair seemed to be the style among the Carja.

     Even as an outcast, when Aloy had come of the age where hormones and physical attractiveness played a big part of her life, Aloy had discovered that she did like a healthy smattering of hair on a man’s chest. A rare sight in the Sacred Lands, yes, but when the summer sun had belted down upon them, some of the Nora men had chosen to shed enough of their armour and clothing to stave off the heat, and Aloy, watching from the side-lines and away from tribal life, had found those few moments to be very informative and refreshing… until Rost had caught her ogling a young brave one day, when instead she should have been training. He had admonished her severely for that, and she had never gone searching for such sights again.

     But now here she was, gawking again like some lovestruck child, until she heard Nil chuckle darkly to himself and her eyes snapped back to his face. His silver eyes, usually so cold and calculating, were now filled with an unfamiliar warmth, not unlike the one that was threatening to burn her cheeks.

     “Like what you see, girl?”

     Aloy looked away quickly. What could she possibly say to that? Better to say nothing, then to open her mouth and sound like a fool.

     Uncomfortable minutes passed, and Aloy itched to leave. She had never felt so awkward in her life. And so she took a mental stock of her things, to prepare and distract herself. She was missing a few packs, her bedroll, and from the pile of folded armour she could see that most of her leathers and hides were torn. Teb had worked so hard to make that armour for her, and one lousy machine had ruined it all.

     Her hands reached for her hide top, thumbs caressing over the damage.

     “You’ve never come across a Stalker before, have you?”

     Aloy turned to look up at Nil, deliberately ignoring his state of undress. She raised an eyebrow.

     “Those… things…” she began, thumbs still running along the damage. “Stalkers?”

     Nil nodded.

     Aloy huffed. “Appropriately named, I guess. I can’t believe one of them took me down.” The shame she felt was like a gut punch. What would Rost have said?

     “Three.”

     “What?”

     Nil stood and straightened, stretching his back and his arms. In his hands was a small knife and a chunk of wood, and Aloy was curious as to what they were for; the wood was much too short and thick to be turned into arrows.

     He made his way to her side, the silk of his purple pants sashaying as he moved, and knelt not too far away from her, once again keeping a respectful distance. Always a respectful distance.

     “There were three Stalkers, Nora. Only one of them showed itself to you.” Nil looked at the fabric in her hands, his lips curling downwards.

     “How do you know that?” Aloy’s eyes thinned. “You are following me, aren’t you?”

     Nil chuckled. “No, I am not following you. By chance or fate, girl, our paths inevitably lead us together.” He looked into her eyes then, the warmth still there. “If I were a man of stronger faith then it would be of my belief that the Sun himself was leading me back to you. You are, after all, the best possible partner this soldier could ask for.”

     Aloy rolled her eyes at his words, uttering a small and sardonic ‘thanks’ in return, but she felt the small and fleeting smile on her lips none the less. And judging from the look on Nil’s face, he had seen it too.

     “So how did you know about them?” She asked, quickly changing the subject. “And how did you find me?”

     Nil shifted, making himself comfortable, and placed the knife and the wood by his feet. There was something etched into the wood, the shape of something, but what it was Aloy could not quite tell.

     “I was hunting the Stalkers, actually. I know, I know, I do not care for hunting them, but I do care for their echo shells.”

     “And what do you need echo shells for? They’re only really used by machine hunters.”

     Nil’s lips pursed, and it looked for a moment as though he was going to say no more on the subject. But then he exhaled slowly through his nose and continued. “There’s a trader that specialises in rare herbs. I have use for some of those herbs, and he only deals in echo shells.”

     Aloy cocked an eyebrow at him. What kind of trader only accepted echo shells? And what herbs did Nil have an interest in? A feeling in her stomach stayed the questions on her tongue; he probably wouldn’t have answered them anyway.

     “As for how I found you, I saw you in the distance, running through the trees. I could see one of the Stalkers on your tail, and another, well, it whipped you with its own tail. I watched as you flew and vanished down a steep embankment. It was actually quite impressive.”

     “Nil.”

     He smirked at her before continuing. “I saw the three of them then. They had to follow the long path down to find you, but you were apparently too well hidden in your landing place for them to find. It did take me a while to find you, after all.”  

     “And then you drew them away.” Aloy interjected, her mind replaying small snippets of what it had caught that night: the touches to her shoulder and neck, the rushing footsteps, the enraged machines…

     Nil nodded.

     “Why did you come looking for me? You could have just left me.”

     “I didn’t want to lose my hunting partner, girl.” He replied with a non-comital shrug.   

     She scoffed. “You would have found some other idiot to help you.”

     She watched as one of the corners of his lips quirked, before his face became infuriatingly neutral. “You may find it hard to believe, but there are many who find my charming disposition too much to handle.”

     “No…” Aloy smirked, rolling her eyes. “You are a cuddly ray of sunshine. How could anyone find that too much?”

     His lips quirked again, splitting enough for Aloy to see a quick flash of teeth, though whether it was in a smile or a snarl she could not know.

     Nil reached for the knife and wood at his feet and examined the chunk of what had once been a proud tree. With a small hum he put the knife to it, gently whittling away at small chunks and slithers of bark. Aloy sat mesmerised as she watched the wood give way to his hands and the blade edge, with form slowly being gifted upon that which was once formless. Aloy still was not sure what it was going to be, but she was certain that she would see soon enough.

     “Rest, girl,” Nil said, not looking up form his work. “I’ll make us a meal soon.”

     But Aloy couldn’t rest. Her thoughts were too preoccupied with watching his work. It was… fascinating.

     Nil stayed his hands, his eyes catching hers, and he smiled a genuine smile. It was not one of his snide or smug grins, nor the smile that was all teeth and death. Aloy’s heart skipped and shuddered beneath it – the gentle curve of his lips broke into small dimples in his cheeks and… wait, how had she never noticed that adorable little gap between his front teeth? Or the few, scattered freckles on his cheeks and nose? Or how the corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled, silver irises sparkling. And the tattoos under them, what did they mean?

     ‘Stop. He’s a killer. Stop it!’

     Aloy turned quickly, looking out across the river to where a group of Chargers grazed. Useful; the unique override code favoured those machines, she had noticed. She still needed a name for it though.

     The soft swick of wood giving way to metal continued, and Aloy inclined her head so that she could see. Was it going to be a machine, or a person?

     “You really should rest,” Nil’s voice was soft, “the Stalkers did throw you down a steep climb, after all.”

     Aloy shuddered, looking back towards the Chargers. Were those machines still out there?

     “Speaking of which,” she began, trying to block out the images of shimmering air that transformed into fangs and teeth. “Did you kill them?”

     “Sadly, I did not. I drew them away long enough for me to get you to safety.”

     “But your echo shells!”

     “I’ll find some,” his eyes briefly flicked to her before returning themselves to his work. “Don’t concern yourself with that.”

     They fell silent once again, Aloy sharing her time between watching Nil work and observing the behaviour of the Chargers. Her body didn’t ache as much now, and Nil’s bandages had stopped the bleeding from her leg.

     Just how far were they from Sunstone Rock now?

     And on that subject…

     “I saw Sunstone Rock for myself.”

     Nil seemed taken off guard by that admission, as his shoulders hunched and his hands stilled. Slowly, he relaxed and returned to his carving.

     “Only visiting, I hope?” He asked, turning the wood with deft fingers. “Carja justice has become so complicated.”

     Aloy nodded, and Nil caught it from the corner of his eye.

     “Is Janeva still shackled there?”

     “Janeva is the warden, if that’s what you mean.”

     Nil chuckled, stopping his work to instead turn towards her.

     “Such a waste of an intoxicating ferocity. We fought together, and each other!” His face softened as he clearly reminisced on old memories. “Ah, but don’t let me get sentimental.”  

     “Uh huh.”

     “But why were you there? I thought the woman who saved the Sun-King could do no wrong?” The tease to his voice was as clear as the day above them.

     Ah. He had heard about her defeat of Dervahl, and the subsequent rescue of Avad, Marad and Erend. Of course he had. Half of the Sundom seemed to know by now.

     “I was exploring the area, and found the place being attacked by machines. One of the former inmates had a bone to pick with Janeva and the guards, it seemed. So, Janeva asked me to hunt him down, along with two other escaped prisoners.”

     “Former inmate? Am I right in assuming that they are no longer with us?” His eyes twinkled.

     “I didn’t kill him, Nil. Rasgrund was pretty good at doing that job for himself.”

     “Ah, yes, the Oseram. I remember him. He enjoyed trying to make his deadly little traps out of any scraps that he could find.”

     “Yeah, well, in the end he decided that he wanted to die to one of his ‘little traps’.”

     “His is no great loss.”

     The day passed by slowly, but Aloy found that the break from her usual hectic pace was a welcome one. Sylens was not particularly happy about her lack of progress, and he made no secret of it as he uttered very one-sided rebuttals through her Focus. Tired of his whining and enjoying the rest that her body and mind had clearly needed, she simply removed her Focus and stashed it safely in the nearest pack that she had.  Aloy was more than happy to enjoy just one day off, and it came as a shock to her, as quickly as a bolt of lightning struck the tallest of peaks, that she was enjoying Nil’s company. He was… charming. Murderous, yes, but pleasant. Fascinating.

     As promised, he later cooked the two of them a meal of small boar and mixed greens that he foraged from the jungle floor. He was a surprisingly good cook, she discovered, as she bit down into the seasoned meat and vegetables and her mouth was flooded with delicious flavours. What other skills was this man hiding beneath his vicious outer shell?

     As the day passed to evening, and the evening to night, Nil finished carving the piece and held it gently in his hands. It was a small Watcher, its head held aloft as it kept vigil over the machines it helped to protect. It was, in a word, beautiful, and sculpted with a surprising amount of detail.

     Putting the knife carefully back into his boot, Nil instead turned to one of his small packs and from inside he produced a small bottle of what looked to be grey ink or paint. A small brush followed, and Aloy moved closer to watch as he began to coat the bristles in the pigment.

     She was rewarded with that same warm smile for her curiosity.

     Nil had finished coating the wood before the last of the sun’s light vanished, and he placed it on a nearby rock, claiming that it had to dry before he could give it another layer of colour.

     The fire he had started to cook their meal was still going strong, and as darkness descended upon them Aloy found herself closing the gap between them as they sat together, Nil pointing out the constellations that the Carja had for the stars that they all shared. Unsurprisinlgly, there were a lot of avian based constellations (the Carja did love their bird imagery), but there were also machines and figures from the tribe’s past. Aloy explained that the Nora believed the stars to be flecks of flame from a fire that All Mother had lit to guide them through the night. Nil remarked that it was quite a beautiful tale.  

     Aloy wasn’t sure when she fell asleep, only that she woke curled up in the place where she had been sat the night before. Nil gently snored beside her. He too had fallen asleep where she had last seen him.

     She could leave. She should leave. But one look at his face, soft with sleep, and her resolve to do so vanished. Besides, it would be rude to do so after he had helped her. He could have potentially saved her life, for if he hadn’t found her before the Stalkers did… Aloy shook her head. No, no she wouldn’t think about the ‘what if’.   

     Nil woke a little while later, with obvious surprise on his face when his eyes found hers. Had he expected her to leave? Aloy simply greeted him in return and went about emptying the only pouch of food that she now owned, sharing what was left of her jerky and dried fruits with him.

     “It’s not quite as good as what you cooked last night,” Aloy sheepishly admitted, “but it’ll get the day started before we have to part ways.”

     Nil’s only reply was a slow but altogether large smile, one that made his eyes light up and her heart miss a beat.

     Aloy could easily become accustomed to that smile.

----------

      Aloy took the small figures into her hands, holding them both so fondly. Each nick in the wood, each stroke of paint, was all Nil.

     The pair of machines had originally sat in her own room, guarding both Elisabet’s pendant and the necklace that Rost had gifted to her so long ago now, but with each subsequent visit to her room, her friends remarked on just how much they liked them too. And so Aloy had made the difficult decision to move them to the common area, where they could be enjoyed by all.

     She just hoped that Nil wouldn’t mind. He had made them specifically for her, after all, but she supposed that perhaps he would feel a surge of pride that others enjoyed his handiwork just as much as she did.

     It had been a few weeks since she had last seen him, and even then it had been fleeting as she had needed to stop at Hidden Ember to collect some special supplies that Abadund had promised to find for her.

     Nil had worn his mask, his moniker of Red Teeth, the whole time, with the forced change in his voice that came with it, one that made him seem more Tenakth than the Carja that he was. Their conversation had been cut short as both Beta and Sylens had contacted her, asking her to joint them as they believed they had found a breakthrough in recapturing Hephaestus. And so Aloy had stupidly left, with one last apology to Nil as she did so. When she had returned to the base, it was revealed that it was a mere blip in the data that they had been reviewing. No breakthrough. There had been no need to leave Nil so quickly.

     Damn it all, she missed him!

     Well, she had recently promised both Zo and GAIA that she would take regular breaks. Perhaps a race with a certain Tenakth-spirited Carja soldier was exactly what she needed.

#hfw #hfw spoilers #niloy #fanfiction #canon typical violence #occasional strong language #flashback central baby #nil may be a murder hobo #but he's aloy's murder hobo #aloy actually takes a break now and then... who knew

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AN INDEXING OF SHIT.

AN FAQ MOST FOUL:

DO YOU TAKE WRITING REQUESTS? Yes I do. but ONLY for MUNGROVE (Billy/Eddie) and CUNNINGROVE (Billy/Chrissy)

WHY? Because they’re the only ships I care about next question--

DO YOU ACCEPT REQUESTS FOR SEXY SHIT? Yeah sure why not.

OKAY NOW THE INDEX----

the runaway maxathon : my liveblogging of my reading of runaway max. includes passages of the book that might be interesting to yall

Emily King had always known she wasn’t normal even before they moved to Hawkins when she was 12. It was something that had only become more true as she grew up. For years she lived inside a terrible engine, a machine she made to keep herself moving forward and safe from the horrors in her home and the horrors she feared watched from somewhere she couldn’t see. The day Will Byers went missing marked the death of the terrible engine. The fire is free. Features: a nonbinary main character (Emily), an entire family ocs, psychic nonsense, Billy Hargrove being our little bastard (affectionate), actually addressing trauma unlike in canon (assuming I’m any good at writing), polyamory in later installments, the stock 80s goth the show has been missing (Emily), and an unholy amount of talk about Elric of Melniboné Series tags: BP content, BP shitposting, BP update Last Season On —     rating: T/PG-13 warnings: canon appropriate violence, swearing, mentions of child abuse/endangerment word count: 9,573 one shot recap of Season 1 but with the Kings included. Just a quick rundown of events so there’s context for the later events. Edited from the original version hosted here. And you may ask yourself, "Well, how did I get here?"    rating: G/PG warnings: none word count: 2,059 Originally on here as “In Betweener” and heavily edited. a Brief one-shot from Steve’s pov one night at the King house. Helps to flesh things out a bit. In The Flat Field rating: T/PG-13 but might climb warnings: mentions of child abuse, canon appropriate violence, gross terminology, more added as we go Starts in S2. Things in Hawkins had quieted down over the last year since the string of mysterious tragedies that happened last November for everyone except Emily King at least who had instead added more to her plate. For the few like her who knew the reason for that string of tragedies their upcoming anniversary was a thing of dread. New faces blow into town and complicate a barely working situation even further. If the signs are anything to go by the other shoe they'd been waiting for is about to drop. Swimming Lessons rating: G warnings: none Just a small thing where Billy plays with Alison.

The Kings: Character Bios  tags: Adam King / Christina King / Emily King / David King / Jackson King / Stacy King / Alison King / the king kids as a whole

OTHER USEFUL TAGS:

Train.png (my art/edits) Writing.doc (my writing) Meta Reference Cunningrove Mungrove

OCs / Hawkins Extended Universe Brandon Mayfield Jodi Pierce Shannon Harrington / Harrington sibs

(this is a side. my main is @namorian)

#train.txt