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boolger · 3 months ago

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A lapdog at a farm - chapter 1

AO3 link. next chapter -> Call of duty. Explicit, 18+, minors do not interact. read the tags. wc: 4,147

Maybe support me on kofi?🥺👉👈

Farmer!John Price x Hybrid!Reader, hybrid! Kyle Gaz Garrick x hybrid! Johnny Soap MacTavish x hybrid! Simon Ghost, John Price x Nikolai.

Summary: When Price was young and left his childhood home, a farm in the middle of nowhere in England, he didn’t enter the military. Instead he moved to London, got a degree and a good career, earning good money. He got you, a human dog hybrid as a pet, after feeling lonely - and you lived your best life for years, spoiled and pampered, Price’s lapdog who got praised at every party. Loved and fucked every night. That was until Price decided to return to his roots and go back to farming - dragging you along to the middle of nowhere, away from all the wonders of the big city. Expecting you to accept this sudden change in lifestyle and pretend to be a farm dog. Bad luck however, because you fucking hated it, and became more and more unruly. In hopes of getting you to calm down and to keep his live-stock and farm safe, Price then got three working dog hybrids - and all at once, your life was even worse than before.

tags: Rape/non-con elements, dub-con, dog!hybrid!people being kept as pets, alternative universe - farm, dark, farmer!John Price, working-dogs, punishments, mating cycles/rut/heat (no omegaverse), the dove isn't dead but its dying, reader is a brat, knotting, animal tails and ears, mentions of trauma, violence, angst, hurt/comfort, collars, rough sex, breeding kink, biting, threesome, foursome, everyone is fucking your honor, enemies to lovers, chubby reader, reader has a pussy

author's note: Hi sinners <33 Just a heads up; the reader is gonna be a spoiled brat. If you want a smart and sweet reader who isn’t mean at times, well. Bad news. This ain’t it.🥰The reader is she / her and has a pussy and is chubby. I tried my best to keep the descriptions somewhat vague otherwise. Reader is a cocker spaniel hybrid. I will tell the others along the way. In this universe, hybrids have ears, tail, claws beneath nails and canine fangs. There will be heats and ruts but there is no omegaverse. They will have personality traits of their dog breed and so on. Now. I know there aren’t wild wolves in the UK… but in this fic there is, ok? mwah.

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The countryside was peaceful compared to the city; the absence of the bustling streets and constant traffic, created a quietness that was indescribable.

Out here, at the new farm, the noises only came from animals that lived in the stables and barn or the occasional rumble as a tractor turned on. The wind caressed the never ending fields of wheat and the long rows of fruit trees, under which the goats and sheep walked most days.

The stress here wasn’t the same kind as in the city. Sure , there were stressful moments and sometimes Price looked like he needed to sleep for more than just the few hours he got everyday.

But he didn’t have to worry about the morning traffic, waiting in a queue for an overpriced, questionable tea or coffee. There was no need for him to wear a suit, no noisy, overfilled train cars in the underground. No crowded dog or hybrid parks, no meetings or rules to follow - except those John Price decided for himself.

He was happy, so much was clear to you. It had been three months since the move - Johnhad gone back to his roots, buying back the farm that his parents had used to own a little while ago, using some of his endless wealth on renovating the place. There was no step on the stairs that was loose, like it used to when he was a kid - sure they still creaked, but you weren’t afraid they would disappear from beneath you.

It was modernized, but most of the old charm left. Price fit right in; the furniture he had inherited and never believed he would use was suddenly in the living room. His knowledge of the business world was abandoned in the city, for the knowledge of farming that he still had left from his youth. John got a couple of farm hands and workers, who helped him with the big place.

It was like he reclaimed his own self that had been buried beneath the suits, ties and paperwork. Now he didn’t smoke his cigars from stress, but from pleasure, clearly much content.

It was like the farm had truly made John Price happy once more; his smiles more genuine, his true self stepping forth. Returning to his childhood home and taking over the farm had been the best decision Price had made. There was no question about it.

… and you hated every bloody day at the farm.

The early morning hours in bed with him, being disturbed by the farm waking up, the rooster crowing and John leaving the bed, giving you a pat in between your ears, taking all the heat with him. The constant bugs, the muddy stables and the big animals, the helpers who always teased you for not fitting in, the lack of friends you had out here. The foxes’ screams in the night, the wolves howling, and the cows occasionally mooing sounded like creatures stepping out of nightmares.

You were not made for farm life. Literally. Simply not made for it.

Some would argue that you, as a hybrid pet, didn’t have a say in it and sure , legally you didn’t. But you were a lapdog, an elegant pet. Not a farm dog. Created to be cared for and cuddled, you were a purebred cocker spaniel hybrid; you weren’t made to run around on a farm, following John on his duties And doing work.

Sure, you had the instincts to hunt a few things here and there, but it was mostly balls and the occasional bird or squirrel. You weren’t a guard hybrid, not really a working dog.

You had had enough trauma throughout your life - you deserved not to be forced into this! You had grown up being trained to be a lapdog, not a working-dog like you felt like John expected you to act like now.

You wanted John to be happy, you really did - you loved your Master! When he bought you a few years ago, when you were still aggressive and unruly (… more than now at least), you had thought he would tire of you like everybody else had. But with patience, rules, training, praise and punishment and a whole lot of sex later, you were a perfect hybrid pet for the city! People always praised how well you looked, laughing when Price said you were really a little troublemaker. You would follow him throughout the fancy apartment, on your daily walks, sometimes for meetings.

But why the fuck did it have to be a farm? He worked somwwhat the same time that he did before, genuinely seeming to enjoy himself. Forgetting about poor you!

Out here, there were no hybrid daycare that you would go to when he had long days, there were none of your playmates nearby, everything stank of animals and there were no places nearby for you to get your hair and fur styled and pampered! No nail technicians, no fancy cafes, no shops for John to buy you things in! No special made coffee or chef-made meals every other evening, no freshly baked croissants.

You felt like you had tried . You really had.

But after the first week, you had your first breakdown - and as the weeks passed, they didn’t stop. At first, John was sympathetic, like the perfect owner he was.

Cooing at you, kissing your forehead, as he gently scratched your ears. Kissing away any tears, saying it was okay - that you were just overwhelmed, that it would be okay. That you would come to like it out here.

Big fucking joke.

He had tried every trick in the book, in an attempt to please you and made you less upset, but as days turned into weeks and tantrums began to appear, you knew his patience began to disappear.

He followed professional advice and then the advice of the neighbors down the street, Rodolfo and Alejandro (who had caught you running away at one point), tried some of the workers’ advice. He had given you your own room, and it was mostly designed like your own, perfect to the pale green paint on the wall, all your toys and dog beds, your CDs - everything. He had tried hauling you along every day, trying to give you a routine to follow - but after two weeks, he gave up, not having the energy to deal with a tantrum that got worse and worse each day. He went on walks with you, fucked you silly, tried his best — and you didn’t want it.

No, you wanted to go back to your old life. Not this country life that you hadn’t signed up for, with horses that neighed loudly whenever you passed them; they were definitely going to trample you at the first chance, you knew that. You could hear foxes scream in the night, warning you of the dangers. The goats and sheep were so fucking loud and no you didn’t want to go pick fresh apples off the trees - had he seen the size of the spiders crawling on them?

When you in one of your biggest tantrums took off and bolted from the farm in distress, Rodolfo and Alejandro had almost hit you when you emerged from the corn fields onto the road.

You had cried the entire drive home, no matter what the two men had tried saying, especially as Rodolfo called Price in advance — your master was livid . The worst thing was, that it was not that kind of anger where he yelled at you before punishing you - no, this one was almost silent, a sharp grip on your collar as he dragged you along after thanking his neighbours.

He had belted you then, ignoring your crying and screaming, only stopping when you broke, sobbing and going quiet. He had explained it to you then, what could have happened, what dangers you could have ended in - and as you sobbingly apologized and tried to explain, that you wanted to go back to the city, John had sighed .

Said that he had pampered you too much since he got you, which had made you greedy and attention seeking. Which only made you cry more, as you hid your face in his neck, fingers digging into his shirt, ass cheeks burning.

“Spoiled rotten, little birdie,” he mused, though you could hear the softness in him, your tail wagging a little, hoping to get him to be less mad.

“‘M sorry,” you had whined in distress, upset with yourself as well, ears tipping down, “wanna be good but I don’t like it.”

Your rather dull escape attempt resulted in several things. An AirTag on your collar, so that he always knew where you were. A remarkable lack of treats, sex and then… the crate .

You fucking hated the dog crate.

Sure, it hadn’t been nice of you to bite one of his pillows into a simple pulp of fabric, feathers everywhere. Or create chaos in the kitchen… or get drunk on his fancy whiskey (that one had ended worse for you, hangover was a bitch and there wasn’t much sympathy from John). And yes, you might have ripped most of the flowers surrounding the house up, until one of the workers had caught you. Maybe pissing yourself in the middle of the living room while staring him in the eyes and ignoring his warnings had been a little…excessive.

But the dog crate? You hated that thing with a burning passion.

Hated it when he locked you up, ignoring your whimpers and whines, your promises to behave, ignoring your little howls as he left.

Mean. The farm had made him mean. Perhaps you had become a bit unruly too, but it was like he didn’t take your clear suffering seriously.

Mean and happy - unruly and suffering. What a pair you were. One of the workers, KAte Laswell, who was a big helper and often stayed over for dinner, suggested a fucking shock collar. You had growled, only stopped when John sent you a sharp look.

You had even heard him talking over the phone with somebody, saying that he didn’t want to rehome you, but he didn’t know what to do.

That had made you melt a little and you had cried as you had crawled into his bed a couple of hours later, begging him to not abandon you. Fears of never getting to see John again or being loved again by him made you cling onto him as he kissed away your tears, gently fucking you.

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It was a random morning a couple of days later, that you found him still in the kitchen, reading the newspaper, humming to himself while smoking a cigar.

He looked nice like this. Despite how he sometimes muttered about being too old, he wasn’t really that old. Late thirties, and perhaps it was the peace on his face or the sun rays that kissed him, which made him look younger. But still. There was a decade between you, but days like this, you were reminded that it didn’t matter.

“Are you going to stare all day or are you going to join me, Darling?” He asked teasingly, pulling you from your thoughts. You let out a little huff and kissed him good morning, receiving a pat on the ass before you sat down on your own seat. It had been a while since the two of you had eaten together - often he was up at the crack of dawn, so his calm behavior and gentle humming was unusual to say the least.

“Why are you not working?” You asked carefully, as you ate some of the bread, trying to ignore how it wasn’t a fancy sourdough one - though you were pretty sure he had picked it up from a local bakery in the village which was a little drive away.

“Because,” he put the paper down, then tapping some ash off the cigar into his ashtray, before looking over at you, a pleased smile on his face, “you and I are going on a trip.”

“A trip?” You didn’t even bother to be embarrassed about how your voice got higher with excitement or how your tail thumped against the backrest of the chair as you wagged it, “where are we going? When? Can we go now?”

Price had laughed, a happy sound that you knew not many got to hear; it made your heart beat a little faster, made you feel butterflies in your stomach.

“Well, we got to do a few things first to get ready, and you ,” he used the cigar to point at you, your tail wagging a little faster, “need to not freak out when I tell you where we are going.”

Despite the warning, tears streamed down your cheeks when he told you. John didn’t get mad as a part of you had expected; he knew your abandonment issues first hand, knew how you had been left behind before, from one bad owner to another.

“You’re going to sell me and leave me with a mean owner and I’m gonna die of hunger and thirst - and - and —“

“Not gonna leave you, princess,” John crooned, covering your face in kisses as you hiccuped and sniffled, clinging to his clothes, “you know that. My favorite puppy. Pretty girl.”

Despite your tears and small sobs, your tail wagged at his words, “silly puppy,” he mused with a smile, gently scratching your lower back, “‘m not gonna sell you. Ale and Rodolfo are looking for a hybrid, I figured we could go look at the auction as well.”

“What if - what if - what if you’ll like them more?” You sniffled dramatically, sure that your life was only going to become worse than it already was. One thing was this bloody farm and the crate, another thing was having to share Price. You didn’t like the idea one bit. If that happened, you were going to show him how a proper tantrum was thrown - the crate would probably be the least of your worries.

As if to prove his love, John bent you over the table, fucking you in between the clattering dishes and cutlery, tea and coffee almost spilling over. Despite how many times your owner fucked you, it made you lose control of your mind every single time. His cock reached so deep inside you that it bordered on pain, your mouth open as you panted and moaned at each thrust; your soft stomach being pressed against the edge of the table, one hand holding onto the back of your collar, the other on your tail. The table rattled, John groaned and moaned, your fingers desperately trying to hold onto anything.

“My princess,” he snarled darkly into your ear, “you’ll always be mine-“ a moan, a grunt, “- no matter what happens, yeah?”

“Yes ye-ah- yes, sir, I’m yours - ah ah - I’m yours!” you managed in between pants and wails of pleasure, fear of abandonment forgotten in the ocean of euphoric satisfaction.

You came harder than you had for a while; the reminder of your worth, of how you deserved his worship, making you cream around his throbbing length, legs in spasms afterwards. He pushed deeper, filling you up with a loud roar like sound, his hands moving to grab onto the fat of your ass and hips as he came. Pain and pleasure made your toes curl and a content sigh left you, your tail wagging against Price as he chuckled.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

The auction hall was filled to the brim with humans and hybrids alike. Every owned hybrid followed their respective owners, all wearing mandatory leashes so no pets would be confused with the ones that were being sold. You wore your own pink one with pride, gem stones sparkling. A matching leash connected to the D-ring on it, that also bore your tags. You were convinced yours were the most beautiful in this entire place.

“They’re bonded,” Laswell pointed out, pointing to the papers that hung nearby, showing off general information about them, “gotta get all three.”

You dared to look at the little board with the informations about the three hybrids they were looking at.

“Ah, we don't have space for three, mi amor.”

“eso es una pena,” Rodolfo answered, while you looked over at John - who kept looking at the three hybrids. You dared to peek over at them.

All three of them were enormous .

Two of them wore muzzles, meaning they were biters. At least at the auction. You shouldn’t judge then, not really, but you did... Even though you had worn a muzzle five years ago, when Price had chosen you. You hadn’t tried biting people out of malice; you had been scared and angry at the world. Angry for being abandoned once more, over the fact that you were most likely being passed on to another abusive master. You leaned a little closer to Price, taking in his scent.

Even from the start, despite all the problems and your attitude problems, he had been sweet. Strict at times — probably not enough — but kind.

The biggest one looked like a Great Pyrenees breed, most likely. The fur on his ears and tail looked shorter, badly cut. Probably due to matting or if he refused to get it cut. His hair, a dark blonde almost brown, was in a buzz cut. He had scars, all over - unable to hide because of the lack of clothes most hybrids were given, only underwear. There was a lot in his face, though you suspected a bunch were hidden by the muzzle. He stared into nothing, his ears curled back, though they moved now and again, listening to different sounds.

“Hard to get sold,” Laswell commented and you looked over at her in synchronicity with John, “they’re ex-military.”

Like he had been called to them, a man who wore one of the seller badges appeared.

“They’re obedient once they fall into place,” he happily explained, going full seller-mode, “they’re just not too fond of the auctions - too many people.”

“Makes sense,” Price mused, clearly interested - much to your annoyance. The fact that he asked follow up questions made you frown, fingers tightening in his shirt. He was here to look. To help Alejandro and Rodolfo, who both had continued their walk. You dared to look over at the hybrids again. All three were staring at you and John.

“How come they were discharged?”

“One of them got a hearing loss -“ he nodded towards them, “the one with the mohawk. And they’re a bonded pack.”

“So only retiring him was out of the question,” John concluded once more looking over at them.

You felt your tail go in between your legs. He couldn’t be seriously considering those three . you couldn’t help but let out a small whine. Price gave your leash a little tug.

“They’re working dogs,” the seller continued, his eyes flickering to you, making you huff, “so they’ll need something to do, not just be pets.”

“Oh I know. I have a farm. Need some work dogs - this one isn’t guarding much.”

They all laughed, your tail going even further between your legs with embarrassment.

“You can’t be serious,” you whined in a whisper to John, not caring that you sounded needy - spoiled would Laswell had said and you ignored her as she rolled her eyes.

“Hush, Princess.” John didn’t even look at you.

“You have animals there?” The seller asked, “one of them is a herding dog - the border collie.”

“I do - several. That’s why there's a need for guarding dogs as well, bloody wolves have been terrorizing us.”

You knew he was telling the truth; he had muttered about dead sheeps and goats several times - even a calf had lost its life to the wolves in the area, despite he and Laswell having shot two already. Even foxes had gotten into the coop, despite the fences.

“They’re good at that too, with their training,” the seller offered, clearly interested in selling them or at least getting John to bid on them. “The one with the mohawk, Soap , will have hearing aids with him, so you don’t need to worry about that.”

You looked over at this “Soap”, scrunching your nose. They were still staring, the biggest one bending down to listen to the third one, a beautiful black man, whisper in his ear. No doubt judging you.

“It says here they don’t do well with others,” you muttered, in a desperate attempt to sway John, pointing to the board with their papers. It did indeed say so, to which you wanted to argue that YOU should be his main focus in this whole thing - how would he even consider adding them to your household if these dogs could get a hold of you?

“It’s in the sense that they’re not really housetrained to be social family pets,” the seller swooped in, pushing your argument away, annoying you even more, “they’ve had missions all their lives. They need to have something to do.”

“I’m sure you’ll get along with them, sweetheart,” Price answered, giving you a small scratch beneath your chin as he finally looked over at you, a glint in his eyes, “some company will do you good.”

You huffed, crossing your arms. Hardly . Price’s smile told you that he thought this was a great idea however. You dared to look at the men again. Still staring, fucking bastards.

The black man seemed like a mix of some breeds, German shepherd and… you looked shortly at the board. Belgian malinois. Fancy. He wasn’t as tall as the big one, but broad and with scars as well. There was a more slender look to him, but his six pack proved he was strong. His curly hair wasn’t too long, probably cut not too long ago. He was looking at you curiously, making you raise your upper lip a little, as if to warn him.

The one with the hearing loss looked like some sort of border collie - covered in scars as well, some of his skin looking like it had been too close to fire. He was broad like the two others, his upper arms the size of your head. He even sent you a cheeky grin, even daring to wink at you. You just looked away, tipping your chin up a little.

“You can look closer if you want, sir?”

You were pulled back into the conversation at once and before you could argue, John had already passed on your leash to Laswell and walked towards the men with the seller. You whined, distressed that he was really, actually considering this.

“You’ll be fine,” Laswell commented calmly, with empathy in her voice for once, though she didn’t look at you, merely at John and the others.

“He is gonna lose interest in me,” you whined, perhaps a little dramatically, bottom lip wobbling a little as you could feel tears welling up in your eyes, “then he’ll leave me in the crate all day and only care about them an—“

“Calm down,” Laswell said, “you’ll work yourself into a fuss.”

“He can’t do this to me,” you argued in a sullen voice, already imagining John forgetting all about you, focusing on these three hybrids for the rest of his life, leaving you cold and lonely inside the dog crate - maybe even rehoming you, “he promised he wouldn’t get rid of me.”

“You’re being dramatic,” Laswell answered just as calmly as before, “John loves you too much, you’re just being spoiled. Hanging out with some working dogs will do you good.”

“They probably have fleas,” you said, your prejudices seeping into your words, knowing you’re being mean, judgmental against your own kind, “they’ll kill me and eat my dead body.”

Laswell laughed. “No they won’t. Worst thing they’ll do, is probably knock you up.”

A high pitched, scandalized sound left you, despite knowing you had an implant. Laswell laughed again, giving your leash a little yank and then scratching you behind your long ears.

“Settle, Princess. That won’t happen without John’s permission.”

You almost cried at the sight of John shaking the seller’s hand.

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They all met up again for the actual auction part and you sat at John’s feet, sniffling a little. Crying hadn’t helped, in fact John had just petted and kissed you, calling you sensitive. Alejandro had gotten a hybrid earlier that they didn’t need to bid on - she was for sale for a certain price. Something about being too intense without enough space to roam, having attacked others before.

Fucking great. Beasts all around you.

John won the bidding on the three working dog hybrids he had been interested in - because of course he did. He spent way too much money on them too, according to you.

One more - or well, three more fucking things to hate about this “farming life” that had been forced upon you.

Maybe John had gone mad.

next chapter ->

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bettysupremacy · 10 months ago

Note

hii! I was wondering if you could write a fic with reader and any marauder (they all fit) and maybe helping or becoming protective over the reader after a concert or party after a creep follows the reader? 😭

I went through a similar experience with a guy following me around after I went to the restroom after a concert, and it ruined my night if i'm being honest, I was scared 😞 I'm not the most shy of people and usually I can handle myself but it was pretty dark and idk the adrenaline from feeling happy to scared shifted pretty quickly. Luckily I found my friends and let them know and we quickly went back to our car (along with a few dirty looks from my friends god bless lol). I swore I could go to the restroom by myself- will not be doing that again :(

you can ignore this request if it makes you uncomfortable!

thank uu

i’m so sorry that happened to you! “(they all fit)”= poly marauders!

There’s something about post concert depression, especially when you’re with the band.

Your glitter eyeshadow is smudged, eyeliner untouched. You’d been shaken around in the pit of your boyfriends fans, and yet the paint hasn’t budged. God bless water-proof makeup. The world seems prettier like this, touched by alcohol and the feeling of soaring pride for your boyfriends. The glittery lights and signs of time square never fail to dazzle you, even now as you lean against Sirius morosely.

“M’hungry.” You frown, toes tipping up towards Sirius, though you fear the mumble may have been more for yourself.

His attention is diverted towards the boys as they discuss what to do now. Plans of how to get home and where to eat. His finger taps your cheek slowly, his focus paying you no mind. Words like Uber, hotel, room service echo throughout their very repetitive conversation.

“Sirius.”

He looks down, a little shocked and sorry at his own attention. “Yes, lovely?”

“M’hungry.”

“Hungry?” He asks, cringing. You’re about thirty minutes from the hotel, and even then, room service will take another thirty.

“So hungry.”

He sighs, unsure of what to do.

“There’s a hotdog stand over there.” You grab his tattooed bicep to balance yourself as you point to your right.

He thinks, peering down at you. “This won’t ruin your dinner?” It’s midnight, but still.

“No,” you sing, reaching up to cup his cheeks. “I really want a hotdog.

He flushes, looking away from your wandering eyes. Normally he wouldn’t let you out of his sight. They would never let you out of their sight in a place like this. But the cart is in eye view of the boys, and he has faith in you not to stray, even in your inebriated manor. It’s not that they don’t trust you, they just prefer to keep you safe themselves. Is that okay?

“Okay,” He murmurs, pulling out his wallet, handing you his card. “At least get the good toppings.”

“I always get the good toppings.” You pull away.

The walk is short and the cart is colorful. Red and white stripes, curvy calligraphy. It shines in your inebriated vision. Beautiful. The queues not long, just an older man waiting in front of you, but it feels like forever as the generous man (with the toppings as well) takes your order and wraps it in warm aluminum foil.

You take the hotdog eagerly. “Thank you.”

It’s heavy in your hands, warm too. You yell Sirius’ name excitedly, waving the hotdog above your head for him to see. He laughs, thumbs up until you bump into a man, smile fading, concern etching his brows.

“Oh,” you murmur, looking up. “I’m sorry.”

“No problem,” he smiles. It’s uncomfortable, not the smile of a friendly civilian.

You laugh. It’s polite, anyone can see that, but he leans closer. He smells like liquor, a disgusting discovery that has you subconsciously leaning away.

“You new around here?”

An actual laugh stumbles out of your lips. “London? No.”

He takes this as an entrance. “You should show me around.”

“No, thank you.” You try to walk past him. Towards Sirius who’s already walking over. “Goodnight.”

“Wait,” he grabs your arm, pulling you back. His fingers dig into your elbow painfully.

“What the fuck,” you gasp, pulling your arm away roughly. “don’t touch me.”

“C’mon,” The man slurs, fingers reaching for you again. “Don’t be-“

“Hello?” Sirius walks up, all stock. He grabs your forearm pulling you to him firmly, getting in between you and the man. He’s not much taller, but more intimidating in demeanor. “Do we have a problem?”

“No,” the man scoffs.

“Cause it looks like you put your hands on her.”

He scoffs again, clearly inebriated. “We were just talking.”

“Well, conversations over now.”

“She can make her own decisions.”

“Fuck off, bro.” Sirius waves his hand dismissively. Quickly, he walks you towards the boys who are peeking their eyes up from the Uber app.

“She was asking for it.”

Sirius reels back, dropping your forearm to shove the scary stranger in the chest. He pushes hard, the man losing his balance as he falls to the ground in a sickening thud. You gasp loudly, the unexpected conflict startling you. Vaguely you hear Sirius say something to him, but you’re too focused on the way the man looks up at you.

James and Remus are there in seconds, quick on Sirius’s heels. They pull at him, up and off the man. There were no real punches thrown, no real injuring blows, it wasn’t even enough to form a crowd. But still, you’re shaken. You shiver like a leaf under your James’ leather jacket, suddenly not feeling the warmth of the alcohol you’d consumed before the concert.

Slowly, you stumble back and way from your boys, to the bench next to the shitty bar you’d passed on your way home. That had been scary, but you’re safe; that had been scary, but Sirius dealt with it. You bring your hand up to your chest, setting the hotdog you had been eager to buy down next to you.

“Hi,” Remus pushes aside the hotdog to sit next to you. “Are you okay?”

You look up to the boy, blindingly beautiful in the streetlights and advertisements. “Yes.”

He pushes some stray hair from your face. “He didn’t hurt you?”

“I think it was more startling.” James sits on the other side of you, kissing your temple firmly. “I’m sorry he did that.”

“It’s okay, I’m okay.”

“She’s okay.” Sirius gruffs from where he walks over.

He sounds cooler than he thinks he looks. He’s not bruised, bloodied, or bandaged, if he were he thinks he’d look cool enough to breeze over. But then again you look mad, so maybe he doesn’t want that.

“Don’t be upset,” Sirius crouches to your level. You’re in the arms of a solid Remus. “he was a creep.”

“Are you hurt?”

“Are you trying to tell me something?” He laughs roguishly. “I thought I looked good tousled.”

He does, and you know he’ll look good on the tabloids tomorrow too. Sirius black gives black eye? You sigh at the thought.

“You do.” James feeds Sirius.

“At least someone in this relationship cares for my ego.”

“You look good.”

“Oh, now you tell me.”

You laugh, letting Sirius stare at you like you hung the moon.

“Kiss em?” He pushes his knuckles in front of your lips. His fingers throb lightly, you can feel it on your lips.

“That was stupid.”

“C’mon,” Sirius’ eyes roll as he pulls you up. “You’ve got a hotdog to eat.”

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imaginedanvrs · 11 months ago

Text

caught in a snare

masterlist

dark!wandanat x reader

word count: 4k

warnings: alcohol consumption, intoxication, mind reading, degrading, forced entry, mind control, bondage, non-con turned dub-con, oral (r giving), gun play, knife play, choking, threats of violence, inflicted violence, fingering (r receiving), strap on sex (r receiving), double penetration, anal

You were blissfully unaware of the forest green eyes that followed your every drunken move as you danced with your friends. If you were sober, maybe you would have caught on to the feeling of being watched by the redhead whose gaze was laid thick on you while you seemed oblivious to the world around you.

“Come on,” a brunette said to your observer as she returned to the bar. “This place is a dump and I'm not feeling it tonight,” she continued with disdain, her accent peaking through so briefly it would have been missed by anyone in the club listening in. “Nat,” she huffed when she noticed her girlfriend wasn't listening, too focused on the mass of bodies dancing in the barely lit room.

“Remember when you gave me shit for not getting you an anniversary present?” The redhead asked as she stared at the peak of skin between your jeans and shirt.

The brunette didn't answer, instead following Natasha’s gaze and swiftly finding the object of her attention. She hummed in acknowledgement, instantly becoming just as curious by you as they watched you blatantly ignore a stranger's advances so that you wouldn't miss a second of the song that was making the walls vibrate.

“The two in dresses are going to go to the toilets to fuck and the other one’s going to dance with the guy with the snake tattoo,” Natasha assessed.

“Well I'm sure she won't want to stay any longer by then,” Wanda mused as she took in your giddy smile.

As if on queue, one of your friends took the other by the hand with haste and dragged her through the club without a word to you. Meanwhile, your other friend began guiding her pursuer's hands to her hips, becoming quickly immersed in his touch. A few moments passed without you noticing your friends' engagements and Natasha tutted. Once it clicked, you looked like a deer caught in headlights.

You scanned the room as you stopped moving, wondering where best to situate yourself as you got your bearings and felt all the alcohol you had consumed that night hit you at once. You were clearly disorientated as you stumbled through the crowd.

“Reckless thing, who knows who would snatch her up if we weren't here,” Natasha chided.

“Come on, маленький, come to us,” Wanda encouraged. You couldn't hear them several metres away, nor did Wanda use her telepathic aid, yet it was the bar you found yourself clinging to a minute later.

“Water please,” you asked the bartender, your speech slightly slurred. The pair advanced.

“You alright, honey?” Wanda enquired with a concerned smile. It was exactly what you needed to see at that moment.

“Yeah,” you replied, entirely unconvincing as you smiled anxiously at the pair.

“You look ready to go home,” Wanda continued.

“My friends are here,” you informed quickly. The older woman was right, you did want to go, but you needed to wait for them.

“But they're not here,” Natasha noted. You bit your lip as you searched the crowd for them, missing the glass of water placed in front of you. It vanished a second later.

“Let us help get you home, sweetie, it's not safe to be out on your own,” Wanda said. It was hard to deny her and perhaps if the pair weren't wearing their widow veils and you knew they were Avengers, you wouldn't have objected.

“I'm not on my own,” you insisted even though your friends were nowhere to be found. “Thank you but-” Wanda didn't have the patience to spend anymore time convincing you. It wasn't conversation the pair wanted from you.

“We're taking you home,” she stated, eyes flashing red so briefly that you passed it off as the strobe lights. Just like that, everything seemed to fall into place and a stress free, though still intoxicated, beam appeared on your lips

“Thank you,” you said sincerely.

“You're something else,” Natasha muttered to her partner as she got up to lead the way. Wanda placed a gentle yet assertive hand on your waist and guided you to follow Natasha while she followed behind, her hand becoming firmer the more bodies you had to get through.

The fresh air that soon hit you did nothing to sober you up and only made you more disorientated, so much so that you were oblivious to the fact you three had left through a previously locked fire exit. You leaned back on Wanda when the alleyway you found yourself in started to spin.

“Woah,” you muttered. The two women shared a look as they helped you into their car. You didn't know you were in a flashy stingray, but when Natasha turned the car on you noticed the expensive interior and began to panic that you would throw up in it.

“Are you getting her address or shall I?” The brunette besides you asked. You frowned.

“It's twenty-”

“Shh,” Wanda assured, suddenly guiding your head into her lap. You were about to protest until you were struck with a sudden sense of peace, oblivious to the red whispered that danced around your head. You gave a contented sigh and simultaneously felt your drunken haze being lifted.

“I don't know your names,” you spoke out without alarm.

“I'm Wanda and that's Nat,” Wanda said sweetly. You really liked her.

“Like the Avengers?” You asked in awe and almost missed Nat's chuckle. “That's cool,” you muttered. The pair glanced at each other in the mirror with knowing smirks. “I'm y/n.”

“Pretty name,” Wanda commented as she tucked the hair behind your ear. “Pretty face,” she added. You felt the heat rise to your cheeks at the attention and squirmed under her gaze. Wanda returned her firm hand to your hip and you stilled.

Pretty anniversary present, Natasha input.

Belated anniversary present, Wanda corrected.

Tell me she's not worth it.

Depends how well she takes the red one, Wanda mused. She felt Natasha's excitement at the concept but kept quiet to not distract from the Friday night streets.

Once they pulled up by your apartment, Wanda prompted for you to sit up and you thankfully did so without a wave of nausea hitting you. You weren't expecting the pair to follow you inside but simply put it down to two women helping another out, even if you were considerably less drunk than when they found you.

“Lifts broken and I'm on the third floor. You don't have to follow me up,” you informed the pair as you almost tripped on a step. Wanda gave you a look that told you they weren't going so you led the way, unaware of the eyes that flickered to your ass.

It was only once you were turning the keys in the lock and thanking the pair that your sense of caution returned. You, somehow, weren't drunk anymore and yet these women you didn't know were still lingering outside of your apartment.

“Really, I'd hate to keep you from continuing your night,” you said as you stood in the open doorway that you wanted closed.

“It's barely begun,” Wanda mumbled as she brought her hand to your temple. You made to step away from her touch but your entire body was suddenly trapped in a state of paralysis. “Go to your room and strip,” she whispered, the tenderness she had earlier possessed now gone. Another difference was when your body complied with the order, your mind screamed at you not to. You were overtaken with fear as you made your way through the small apartment and heard the door close as the pair wandered in behind you.

“Oh, malysh, you should really take better care of yourself,” Wanda commented in what you now knew to be a condescending tone. You felt your anger brew as you realised she was going through your belongings while you undressed for her.

“We'll do that for you,” Natasha suddenly spoke right behind you. She undid your bra and grazed her lips over your shoulder, smirking at the goosebumps that arose. “Be a good toy for her and maybe I'll play nice,” she whispered and you could do nothing to push her away.

“Oh, Nat, you're scaring the poor thing,” Wanda chuckled as they watched you obediently take your underwear off. The moment they were discarded, you were given a heavy shove that made you lean over the side of your bed while your knees hit the floor with a painful thud. You whimpered at the pain it ignited and heard a pitiful coo from one of the women as your chin was lifted. Your eyes widened at what you took in.

The two Avengers stood before you, rid of their clothes and masks and instead holding weapons. Wanda’s eyes were glowing red as she stared at you while her magic flowed freely from her fingers. The whisps flickered momentarily as you felt an intense pressure keep you down before it was listed for you to roam freely. Yet you wouldn’t dare, not when you knew what she could do along with the sinister handgun held at the redhead’s side.

“So you do have some smarts about you,” Wanda said, confirming the rumours that had circulated in the media months ago that she could read minds.

“”Here’s the deal, приятная вещь, you can behave and do exactly what we say,” the brunette explained as she sat herself at the head of your bed while Natasha grabbed at the back of your neck and hoisted you up to the space between Wanda’s spread legs. “Or we can make you,” she said just as the unforgiving steel of Natasha’s gun pressed into your bare back. “Either way…” she snaked her hand around to the hair at the back of your head and forced you to gaze down at her wet cunt. You wondered at what point in that twisted scene she had become so aroused, and why there was a growing ache between your own legs at the sight.

You weren’t blind to the fact that god clearly hadn’t spared them any favours in looks and that you, like many, had been crushing on the female Avengers for some time, but the situation they had put you in wasn’t right, so why did Wanda look so goddamn tempting?

It was wrong, it was immoral, it was altogether fucked up, but with a sharp tug to your hair, your mouth was on the brunette. The second you tasted her, you didn’t need the threat of repercussions to keep you in place. Your tongue delved between her pussy lips and the moan you heard in response sealed your place in their arrangement and your own fate.

“Fuck, you always have a good eye for them,” Wanda gasped.

“Anything for you, моя любовь,” Natasha winked back. “I know she’s your present, but I hope you don’t mind if I just…” You heard the redhead trail off but ignored the distant alarm bells in your mind to instead give all your attention to flicking your tongue across Wanda in an effort to savour and explore her.

You were pulled from your lustful trance when you felt a cold blade press against your hip. Your eyes snapped to Wanda in a silent plea only to see her features brighten with excitement.

“Just don’t go too deep this time,” Wanda chuckled as she watched the scene unfold with anticipation and pulled you in close enough that you could no longer catch her dark eyes.

At the first cut, you inevitably jumped and scrambled to get away from the glistening blade but you were held in place by one strong hand to your back. Kept still against the already stained bedsheets, you whimpered and cried pitifully as Natasha’s skilled hands littered cuts across you, leaving scarlet streaks in place.

“Don’t stop,” Natasha warned with a deeper strike. “I’m barely touching you,” she huffed disapprovingly, pausing to let you recover and continue. You did so tentatively, waiting for the next sting to be inflicted but several minutes passed with the redhead merely tracing your skin with the back of her knife and you soon became fixated on Wanda again.

The cuts stung, but so did your scalp every time the brunette tugged and eventually those sensations entwined in the turmoil and were pushed to the background as Wanda’s pulsing clit became centre stage. The muscles of her thighs clamped around your head as her breathy moans and curses filled the room.

“Such a good fucking mouth she’s got on her,” the brunette spoke and though it wasn’t directed at you, you flushed with pride.

Wanda came with an ecstatic cry and you swore that the taste of her cum was worth every cut that had littered across you. You missed Natasha’s approving hum at the sight, too caught up in making sure you didn’t miss a drop of her girlfriend. You swirled your tongue everywhere you could reach until Wanda was pushing you away. You whined.

“Greedy thing,” Wanda tutted with amusement, gripping your chin.

“I can’t blame her,” Natasha muttered, suddenly leaning over your body to your raised chin where, instead of kissing you, she licked the wetness that had gathered just below your lips.

“Let me watch you, Nat,” Wanda said as she watched you shift uncomfortably. “Give me a show.” You frowned, not understanding what the younger Avenger meant but apparently Natasha did. She wrapped her hand around the front of your throat and pulled you back with her until your calves were by your sides and your back was flat against Natasha’s front.

“So fragile,” the redhead commented as her hand previously on your neck travelled down gradually. She nipped along your shoulder and neck as she explored your stomach and squeezed your tits. Your breath hitched and you tried to move your neck away from Natasha’s markings but she easily overpowered you.

“If you keep squirming like that you might make my finger slip,” Natasha tutted as she tapped her gun against your stomach, her finger ready on the trigger.

“Please,” you whimpered as the redhead trailed her gun across you, settling it under your chin. Your throat briefly skimmed it when you swallowed your nerves.

“Please what, malysh?” Wanda asked. You looked at her with a plea that got stuck in your mouth the moment you took in how she was touching herself. “Go on,” she encouraged as she rubbed her swollen clit.

“She wants to hear you beg,” Natasha whispered to you, her free hand settling between your legs where she found your cunt to be as wet as her partner’s. “Do it,” Natasha ordered with a firm press of her weapon, adamant on seeing her present perform as she was expected to.

“Please don’t kill me,” you rushed out. Both women chuckled, seemingly not taking your request seriously in the slightest.

“That’s not what you really want to beg for,” Wanda said, teasing her entrance with two fingers. Your own pussy throbbed as Natasha’s digits ghosted over your neglected clit. “Beg her to fuck you,” she said, eyes dangerously dark.

“I…I don’t- ah!” You exclaimed as Natasha pressed hard on your clit and rubbed tight circles. “Fuck,” you cursed as you fought against your desires, inevitably loosing when you heard the redhead cock her gun. “Please fuck me,” you whimpered.

“I didn’t catch that,” Wanda smirked.

“Please fuck me!” You begged as Natasha’s rough fingers were stripped away.

“Why?” She mused as she dragged her wet nails down your stomach.

“Because-” you hissed. “Because I need it, please!” You cried out, unable to distinguish if it was a plea for your life or for your pleasure.

“There it is,” Natasha smirked to her partner as she pushed three fingers in without warning. You were wet enough to take them, but the ache of the stretch was still very much present. “Fuck, what a tight slut,” the redhead chuckled as she thrust her fingers into your depths with persistence. You whined at the sting as Natasha scissored her digits against your soft walls, thumbing at your clit as you squirmed.

“You’re driving the pretty whore crazy, Natty,” Wanda moaned as she fingered herself steadily at the sight. “Does that feel good, detka?”

“So good!” You moaned without hesitation, resting your head back on Natasha’s shoulder. She tossed the gun to the side and picked up her knife as she thrust her fingers wildly, bringing the shining blade up to your neck. You could hardly register it. You were so intoxicated with the feeling of the woman behind you filling you up, but the hot sting across your neck was prominent.

Your hands pinned between your bodies struggled to free themselves and grab at the knife, no matter how futile, but Natasha’s body didn't budge and your hands remained trapped. Luckily, the redhead didn’t linger too long on your neck and planted small cuts back down your torso. Though at that time, they bothered you far less.

“She looks so good like that,” Wanda groaned when you winced amongst the pleasure. “More,” she demanded and suddenly the cuts were deeper. A sob was dragged from your throat and Natasha merely fingered you harder in response.

“I can feel you gripping my fingers,” Natasha husked. “Don’t you dare cum before her,” she warned as she placed her knife against your throat again. You whined desperately in protest, unsure if you were going to be able to hold off much longer, especially when the redhead deliberately pressed against the spot that made your world spin.

“I can’t…I need- please!” You exclaimed as you struggled, giving Wanda the most pleading look you could manage.

“Poor thing,” Wanda mused as she fucked herself knuckle deep, letting you glimpse how soaked she was everytime she pulled them out. “You want me to cum?” She asked with a pout.

“Please,” you sobbed.

“Please,” Natasha mocked, curling her fingers harder.

Wanda came again with a low moan, shuddering against your headboard as she thrust her digits steadily through her orgasm. You thought that you yourself were seconds away from your own relief but the sadistic redhead withdrew her fingers and forced you to continue to watch the pleasure you were deprived of. You almost protested when you saw Wanda’s blissed smile but wisely restricted it to a needy whine.

“What’s the matter, love? You wanted to cum too?” Wanda asked, eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Yeah,” you said, voice hoarse.

“You think you can manage that?” Wanda questioned as her fingertips produced a red glow until a blood red dildo appeared between the Sokovian’s legs securely. Similarly, you felt something obnoxious prod into your back from Natasha. Your eyes widened as you took in the large toy, recognising that you had never taken anything nearly that big before. Most likely hearing your thoughts, Wanda stroked the toy several times, as though giving you a preview of how it was going to stretch.

“Don’t worry, it’ll help that you’re fucking soaked,” Natasha chuckled. A red glow appeared again though that time Wanda wrapped her magic around your body as she lay on her back and draped you over her with only your ass in the air for Natasha to grab.

“Wait,” you stammered when the toy brushed past your clit and teased your hole. Feeling the wide head spread your lips apart, you looked to Wanda to plead for more preparation but you didn’t get the chance because the redhead was forcing you down.

The stretch was unforgiving in its pressure and burn, forcing your soft walls apart with every inch it took. It filled you up in its entirety as Wanda guided your open mouth to her nipples where your moans became muffled and your eyes fluttered closed dutifully.

“Almost in, you just need your slutty holes filled by us, don’t you?” Wanda asked as she stroked your hair, a stark contrast to her words and the actions of her girlfriend who was forcing her inside you. “You just have to lay pretty and take it,” she said as the rest of the toy was shoved into your cunt.

“There you go,” Natasha hummed.

“Hurts,” you wheezed before your mouth was forced back around the Sokovian’s nipples.

“But it feels so good too, doesn’t it?” Wanda cooed as she lifted you off of the strap on only to slam you back down as she began to thrust. In your position, she could only pull out half way but it meant that the stretch lingered for longer while the pleasure emerged.

Once you were all consumed in the bliss of Wanda fucking your throbbing pussy, you jumped as Natasha spit on your ass and let it dribble down until it reached your tightest hole. You whined when she grazed her thumb over your ass, letting it hover in the anticipation of what you knew she was about to do and didn’t quite want to stop.

Natasha pushed her thumb past your ring just as Wanda filled you up with her fake cock and you let her nipple go with a gasp, clawing at the bedsheets around you to help adjust to the intrusion. “Fuck!” You groaned as the redhead toyed with your ass. She flexed and pumped her thumb inside you several times before replacing it with two fingers that had you spinning.

“So fucking tight,” Natasha grunted. “Feel it, Wand.” You didn’t understand what that meant and you missed the red hues covering Wanda’s iris as she peaked into her partner’s mind to experience what she felt, cursing at the ghost sensations around her fingers.

“Ruin her for me, Natty,” Wanda encouraged with twisted adoration and began fucking your cunt with a refreshed vigour you weren’t prepared for. In that same split second, Natasha pulled her fingers out and pushed her strap against your ass, gripping your hips harshly as her cock stretched you open.

“Too much,” you protested but the redhead merely pushed your face into the bed and used it as better means to fuck you with. Suddenly, you were more full than you ever could have imagined as both your cunt and your ass were stuffed with the older women’s cocks while you lay weak against them.

Natasha spit on her dildo as she dragged the toy out of you, stroking it several times before pushing it back in entirely. Tears soaked your bedsheets at what you could’ve sworn felt like being split open to accompany the redhead’s toy down to the base with her hips flush against you.

The moment they began thrusting together, you crumbled, unable to handle the force they used to fuck you or the fact that it felt so fucking good. Your moans were incoherent against the bed but no one seemed to care when the wet sounds from your cunt spoke loud enough for you.

“Such a good fucktoy,” Natasha groaned as she snapped her hips against you. “Happy anniversary, moya lyubov,” she grinned, pushing your head down further as she leant over you to embrace her girlfriend in a heated kiss you hardly registered. Their pace didn’t falter as they made out over you, continuing to pump themselves into your holes harder.

You couldn’t even move between the pair. You were trapped between their overpowering frames as they thrust as deep as they could each time and rubbed every nerve enough to make your body weaker by the second. You were consumed by them, all together entangled in the mess of twisted pleasure you only became more lost in until you reached the point of no return. You couldn’t communicate this to the pair but luckily one of them was already in your head.

“Cum, sweet thing,” Wanda coaxed. “Show us how much of a desperate slut you really are.” With that, you tripped and stumbled over the edge in a disorientated blur, falling blissfully through the air until you were slumped right back in that bed with the two Avengers who showed no signs of stopping.

“I can’t,” you tried to tell them, yet you did just moments later.

“We’re going to have so much fun with you,” Wanda whispered against your ear as she slowed her pace for you to be able to process her words. “We’re just getting started,” she told you when an unrelenting pressure started around your neck once more.

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow #dark!marvel #marvel #natasha x reader #dark!fic #dark!natasha x reader #natasha romanoff smut #wandanat smut #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #wandanat x reader #dark!wandanat #dark!wanda x reader

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ckret2 · 4 months ago

Text

Chapter 64 of human Bill Cipher being 50% the prisoner & 50% the weird guest of the Mystery Shack:

Soos makes a deeply significant moral decision. To redecorate!

If you're seeing this picture, it's because I either didn't have enough time to draw a better one before the queue spat out this chapter, or I decided that nothing else I could draw would be half as funny.

####

Whenever Soos faced something difficult, he talked to Abuelita. And Bill was nothing if not something difficult.

Soos laid out the situation to her in the living room as she watched her telenovelas—she didn't mind the distraction, she far preferred real life drama over anything they put on TV. He told her about the confiscated canes, the daily injuries, the bargaining for food, the threat of forced showers, the bruises and burns and blood Bill said nothing about. He told her about Bill's door trick and how he'd only used it to talk to a teen about life and tuck a kid into bed. Once he'd told Abuelita all his thoughts, she nodded slowly, eyes still fixed to the TV screen; and for the moment, said nothing.

The doctor on TV confirmed the tearful new mother's suspicions that her husband had cheated (DNA tests confirmed the baby was another woman's), and Abuelita muted the show as it went to a commercial break. Soos waited as she collected her thoughts to render her judgment.

"I have been talking to Mr. Cipher for the last month or so. He keeps me company while I cook so I do not poison him again," she said. "I think he is ruthless, manipulative, and self-centered."

Soos winced, but nodded. "That's true."

Abuelita went on, "I like him. He is self-confident. He's blunt in a way you only get when you're old and cynical. I think he is a bad person; but, many bad people are good company."

"That's also true." Soos nodded again thoughtfully. Like whenever a comic book had a young idealistic superhero team up with an old jaded ex-villain who played by his own rules, and they ended up best friends, in spite of their glaring ethical and political differences.

"But, more importantly than whether he is a good person or a bad person," Abuelita said, "he is a person. And if you do not like a person, there are three ways you can deal with him." She counted off on her fingers, "You can kill him; you can avoid him; or you can set your feelings aside, and treat him with decency. Yes, get rid of the people who are bad for you—but no matter how terrible a person is, you must treat him like a person."

Soos's eyes lit up. "Oh, like with grandpa!"

Abuelita nodded slowly. "Yes. Just like grandpa."

"Yeah but—what if treating him decently is, you know... dangerous? Like if he uses any privileges we give him to do bad stuff? The Pines think he will. And I think he might be secretly talking to his cultists or whatever? Who miiight wanna destroy the world? But what if they can't destroy the world actually, and if I tell about the people he's talking to, he gets treated even worse..."

"Without his devil powers, he couldn't destroy a bookclub," Abuelita said. "But, if he is so dangerous, are you going to kill him?"

"No. I actually don't think we can anymore?"

"Are you going to avoid him?"

Soos let out a heavy sigh. "I can't as long as he lives here."

Abuelita shrugged, as if to say there you have it. "You are a good, kind man, mijo. I am sure you will figure out the right thing to do."

####

He took Melody out for lunch. They went through a drive-thru so they could park and talk privately in the truck.

She took a firmer stance on it than Abuelita. "I do not want to be stuck with Bill forever," she said. "I could put up with it this long because I thought the Pines would get rid of him as soon as possible! Now that he's staying here indefinitely...?" She shook her head. "I really don't like it, Soos."

Soos wasn't surprised. "Do... you think they should have 'gotten rid' of him?"

Melody paused, then shook her head again. "This whole thing is such a bizarre situation. Like, I can get why it makes sense to execute the guy that can end the world, but... I just don't think that's a decision two random guys with a big gun should be allowed to make," she said. "Honestly? I think we should call some federal agency and put him in jail somewhere. You know I've been iffy on Ford's 'only we can contain Bill' thing from the start."

"Yeah. I know." Soos agreed with Ford—he was the Bill expert, he would know—but he couldn't say Melody was wrong, either.

"Our wedding's scheduled for the end of summer," Melody said. "And... I'm sorry, Soos, but I just can't live under the same roof as the guy that turned me into a statue. We'll still get married—"

"—Oh, phew, almost had a heart attack there—"

"—pff, sorry. But if Bill's still in the shack after the summer, then... then I'll keep staying with my aunt, or we could move into your old house and just visit the shack for work, or something... but I can't move into the shack permanently until he moves out."

"Okay. I accept that." Even if the rest of them had sorta gotten used to living with Bill, Soos thought not wanting to live with a former torturer/conqueror/dictator was a pretty reasonable boundary. "I dunno what we'll do long-term just yet, but—we'll decide on something before the wedding."

Melody let out a long, nervous sigh. "Okay," she said. "Okay. Thanks, Soos." She reached across the truck's center console.

Soos took her hand. "But, how do you think we should handle Bill until then?"

Melody stared out the window at the gray sky. The rain had dried up before dawn, but the sky was still hazy. "If we keep guarding him ourselves instead of getting law enforcement involved... personally? I wouldn't give him any kind of special treatment at all. He tried to end the world! He stuck the whole town in a throne! He can just keep sleeping on the floor and being miserable, and I'd be fine with it."

Soos winced. "I see."

Melody squeezed his hand. "But—the fact that you're kinder than that is one of the things I love about you. Even when the creep you're being kind to doesn't deserve it." She gave him a resigned smile. "Do whatever you feel is right."

He considered that. Then he nodded. "I will."

####

Bill kept Soos's Abuelita company while she cooked, and gossiped with her in Spanish better than Soos's about people Bill had never even met. Bill liked watching cartoons, sports where people got hurt, and weirdly intellectual movies Soos didn't get, and he heckled historical documentaries and the news. Bill was offended by white rice and had incredibly strong opinions about salsas for a guy who'd only started eating them a month ago. Bill hadn't taken his friendship bracelet off once since Mabel gave it to him. Bill might not have been a human; but he was a person.

It was high time they start treating him like one.

####

Soos came home late in the afternoon with his truck laden down with supplies. Stan's car was gone, and when Soos came in with an armload of wooden boards he didn't see anybody around except Abuelita, napping in the living room, and Dipper, laying on the living room floor watching TV. "Hey dude," Soos whispered. "Where's everybody else?"

Dipper whispered back, "Hey Soos. Stan and Ford are at McGucket's mansion." He didn't look up from the TV. He was watching a rerun of Ghost Harassers on mute. "Mabel's with Bill in the floor room. He's in a bad mood about something so they've been doing karaoke all day."

"Huh." Soos could faintly hear someone playing his electric piano. It sounded like it was on the organ setting. "I didn't know he plays piano."

"He's alright," Dipper said. "His singing's terrible, though."

Soos shuddered. He could imagine.

Well, at least it meant Bill was out of the way. Soos began his first of many trips upstairs.

####

"What's all this racket?" Stan trudged upstairs to inspect Soos's noises—and abruptly stopped at the top of the stairs as he almost ran into a wooden beam. "What the—?"

"Oh, hey Mr. Pines!" Soos hooked his hammer on his tool belt. He'd put up wall framing to section off the corner of the attic floor that included the window seat.

Stan circled around the framing, inspecting it in bafflement. "Soos, what the heck is this?"

"So, remember at the beginning of summer, when I said that me and Melody were thinking about putting in a gaming room-slash-guest room in the attic? And Ford said not to bother until Bill was gone because he wouldn't be here long enough for me to finish? Welp! Sounds like he's gonna be here long enough for me to finish now! So I thought, hey, might as well, right? No reason not to!" He shrugged. "By the way, do you think I should put the door in front of the stairs, or on the long side of the room opposite the window? If it's in front of the stairs, you can just walk right in the room when you come up, and we'd be able to put a big screen on the long wall; but when you're walking out of the room it'd be really easy to forget the stairs are there and fall, and uh, we already have enough of a problem with that—"

Stan finally got his dropped jaw working again. "But this is where the demon sleeps! Where are we supposed to put him now?!"

"Oh, it's fine! Bill can keep sleeping in here. I'll put up a curtain instead of a door for now. This way the room's ready for gaming once Bill's gone." Soos planted his hands on his hips and surveyed his handiwork with pride.

"Are you crazy? You're giving Bill his own room?! No way! He could do anything in private. We can't trust him with that—"

"Listen." Soos gave Stan a serious look. "Mr. Pines, I respect you, and I love you like the dad I never had except technically I do have a dad but he's off being a deadbeat in Florida or something so he doesn't count."

He pointed at the floor. "But this is my house now. My name might not be on the deed, but my butt is in the master bedroom! And nobody under my roof is living like—like—like some kind of starving hobo sleeping on a bench under a newspaper, you know what I'm talking about? The Mystery Shack is a happy place! Where people come to see dreams come true and have their imaginations expanded! And I won't see it turned into some sad one-man prison!"

Stan stared at Soos, speechless.

"So." Soos took a deep breath. "With all due respect—I'm building a gaming room, and it'll have walls, and Bill gets to sleep in it. Because he's a person! And we're gonna treat him like one!"

Stan slowly looked from Soos to the wall framing, to the boxes of supplies he'd bought for the room and pushed against a wall to wait—to the pathetic couch cushion bed still sitting on the floor in front of the window. "All right. That's—that's fine. I'll let Ford know."

Soos's shoulders relaxed. "Thanks, Mr. Pines."

Stan clapped a hand on Soos's shoulder; looked for a moment like he wanted to say something; then just shook his head and said instead, "Knock off the hammering before the kids go to bed, all right?"

"No problem! I've gotta set up some furniture and stuff in here anyway." He got back to work as Stan went downstairs.

####

Soos paused his work when he overheard Bill's voice: "Hey Stanford. Figured out the kitchen situation yet?"

Soos had to strain to hear Ford (jeez, Bill was loud) as he said, "We haven't had a chance yet. For now, we can at least leave one of the counter cabinets open."

"Huh." It didn't sound like an impressed huh. "And will this open cabinet have any of the foods you put in the cabinet to hide from me? Or just more of the junk I've already been scavenging."

Ford was silent long enough to provide the answer.

"Right."

"I went by the grocery store," Ford offered. "I got avocados."

"Uh huh."

"And several pepper varieties."

"Ooh." Bill sounded intrigued in spite of himself.

"And protein drinks. They're nutritious, at least," Ford said. "But—I know that's not adequate. Stan and I will have something permanent figured out by the end of the week."

"I guess it's fine as an emergency measure," Bill said, "but you know how the phrase goes! Give a triangle a protein drink, and it'll eat for a day. Teach a triangle to open the fridge, and it'll eat for the rest of its life. If you lift that curse..."

"We'll talk. But don't get your hopes up. Neither of us likes the thought of giving you the power to come in our bedroom and smother us in our sleep the next time we have an argument."

"Fine." Bill's voice had hardened again. "You've got to the end of the week. But don't forget! If I don't like your offer, I don't have to take it! You can't keep me in this rickety barn anymore."

"I haven't forgotten."

The conversation seemed to be over and Soos didn't hear anyone coming up the stairs. He got back to work.

He felt good. He was doing the right thing.

####

When Mabel came up to bed, she stared in confusion at the modified attic floor, squealed in excitement when she realized what she was looking at, surprised Soos with a hug, and gushed about how great it was; and then she let Soos know Dipper and Ford were out tonight investigating weird stuff and went on to bed herself.

The first notification Soos had that Bill had come upstairs was a flat, offended, "What."

"Oh, hey!" Soos ducked out of the opening he'd left for the doorway—which he'd ultimately decided to put straight across from the window, to let a little light back into the attic. (He'd have to add more lighting in the main attic now that the window was blocked off.) Bill was standing at the corner of the new room, surveying the work with an expression of deep suspicion.

Soos said, "I was just getting started on this gaming room Melody and me wanted to put in—it's okay though, you can keep using it, we'll just turn it into a gaming room, uhhh... lllater. Whenever, it's cool!"

Bill turned his suspicious look on Soos; but when Soos gestured for Bill to follow him into the room, he reluctantly followed.

"Yeah, I got up the framing," Soos said, "but I couldn't get to the drywall today, so I just stapled up some tarps to be walls for now. But, look!" He gestured grandly. "I brought up the old orange sofa and chaise thingy that used to be in Abuelita's room! They've been in storage for like a year. I bet we could sit, like, six people on it for game nights. It turns out the sofa's a daybed, so we can use it as an extra guest bed for visitors, we do not have enough beds for visitors in the shack, haha. And, check it—" Soos flipped up the lid on a chest he'd placed in front of the right end of the sofa like a footrest. "I put in one of those top-down chest fridges for gaming snacks! It uh, the top of it swings up, that makes it a lid instead of a door, right? Sooo I guess you can use it too, right? You can just, put whatever you want on the weekly grocery list, and we'll put it in here. Oh, and!" He pointed at the ancient TV console table he'd hauled up from the cellar, "I set up a hot plate here, too! So you can cook stuff in the attic! For—for normal legitimate gaming room purposes."

Bill's gaze followed where Soos pointed, from the ancient orange sofa to the fridge chest to the hot plate. He didn't say anything. His expression was completely unreadable.

Soos swallowed. "Oh, and, by the way, speaking of home improvements, I took out the doorknob on the main bathroom, and put in one of those, like, little slidy dealies like public bathroom stalls? Plus I gave the door those swinging hinges—like the kind on saloon doors in the movies, o-or, say, the door into the gift shop—"

Bill whipped around to face Soos.

Soos jumped. He laughed nervously and tried to remember what point he was making. "S-so, um... there's no latch now, so it doesn't latch, which means there's no way to accidentally get locked in—or out, of the bathroom, and... and I don't actually know how much of that you understood, due to the whole curse thing? Just forget everything I just said, I guess, the important thing is you can use that bathroom without asking someone else now! Cool, right?"

He had to turn away from Bill's intense gaze, pointing back at the gaming room's doorway. "Anyway since the room isn't finished yet and you're probably gonna use it for a while, I hung up a curtain instead of a door. And I added that cool zodiac spell blanket thing Mabel gave me inside the curtain! Since you said you liked it so much when you first got here. And like... having it in our room kinda creeps Melody out, I think it might be giving her nightmares? So I thought you might like it better. Anyway I've still gotta do some other stuff, like add power outlets in here, and air conditioning, and... a-and..." He petered out weakly.

Bill was giving Soos the most venomous look he'd ever seen.

"Sure. Terrific." Bill crossed his arms, seething. "I've slept on the floor, I can cope with sleeping in the middle of a construction zone too. No big deal! I'll make do."

"Oh," Soos said. "Uh... if it bothers you, I could try to get the walls finished tomorrow? Shack's closed tomorrow too, so, I was already planning to keep—"

Teeth grit, Bill snarled, "Don't put yourself out on my behalf."

Soos froze. "Oookay! Uh... well, I'll be getting ready for bed if you need... yeah, no, you—you probably don't need anything. Bye." He ducked out into the attic, letting out a whoosh of a sigh as soon as the curtain swung shut behind him.

Bill had looked like he was two seconds from ripping out Soos's throat. Why? Had he liked sleeping on the floor? He'd never seemed like he had. Maybe he'd preferred the attic's open flooring? Maybe he hated extremely 70's orange upholstery? Was this a mistake...?

Bill watched through the tarp until Soos was down the stairs. Then he lunged over the sofa, hanging over the back by his waist, to reach the attic window seat. He groped for the corner of the seat cushion where he'd hidden Journal 4.

He sighed in relief when he felt the familiar rectangular block in the cushion. He pulled it free: there was Journal 4, along with his two stubby crayons. As well as two marker pens, black and red, with a sticky note wrapped around them that said, "Thought these might be useful, dude!"

Bill's hands trembled with fury.

####

Soos was brushing his teeth when someone pounded on the bathroom door, making him drop his brush. The door swung open a couple of inches; Soos heard Bill mutter a confused, "What?" before it swung shut again.

Soos opened the door. "Bill? What's..."

Bill's face was completely flushed. It was hauntingly reminiscent of the look he'd had last year right before trying to murder Soos and the kids in Stan's mind. His rage had shot past "apoplectic" and landed on "apocalyptic." Soos understood how Pompeii had felt when the rumbling began. He took a few steps back.

Bill stalked into the bathroom.

He slapped the red pen down on the counter.

And, avoiding eye contact, he muttered, "Fine-tip yellow highlighter would be better. If you've got it."

"Oh," Soos said. "Sure, I... I think I have some skinny highlighters in my office. Just... lemme finish brushing my teeth."

####

Bill leaned in the office doorway, arms crossed tight, waiting. As Soos rummaged through his desk supplies, back to the door, he got the uneasy feeling that maybe Bill had lured him here to stab him in the back or something. He seemed mad enough. And the office was narrow; if Bill came up right behind him, there'd be nowhere for Soos to dodge...

When he found a new highlighter and turned around, Bill was glowering inches behind him.

Soos jumped. "Dude! You freaked me out."

Bill didn't condescend to respond. He just snatched the highlighter out of Soos's hand and stormed from the room. A moment later, Soos could hear him stomping up the stairs (and stumbling on one step. Soos really needed to figure out how to make the stairs more safe).

For the life of him, Soos didn't know how he'd offended Bill.

####

The contraband supplies Bill had hidden behind a loose board in the wall still appeared to be undisturbed. He could only hope Soos hadn't found them during his snooping. For tonight, he could hide Journal 4 there; tomorrow he'd have to find a new, more secure hiding spot that kept it close enough to where Bill slept.

He turned around the hanging zodiac blanket and curtain so Bill's watchful triangular face was guarding the new attic hallway rather than staring into the room.

He surveyed his atrocious new sofa. If he'd known he would be plagued with this thing in the future, he would have found a way to make Ford get rid of it thirty years ago. Would Ford have thrown it out if his blessed Muse had told him it looked hideous? Maybe, but that would've put a ding in Bill's benevolent image. He could've said the sofa would lead Ford to doom? No, too implausible. Ford had always wanted a nice set of leather furniture; maybe if Bill had claimed the cost of leather furniture was about to skyrocket, and if Ford ever wanted to build his dream sophisticated gentleman's den then he should buy as soon as possible—maybe sell his current sofa to recoup costs and free up space... Yeah, Ford would've eaten that up, he'd have been so grateful Bill was thoughtful enough to care about his silly little life dreams and look out for his financial future. He shoulda done that. Hindsight.

So. What did he have here? A daybed; personal fridge; mini-stove; walls (tarp); two pillows; throw blanket; two markers; a lamp (unplugged); a clock radio (unplugged); a low console table with two shelves, onto which Soos had emptied the contents of Bill's cardboard box of clothes; and an implicit promise to keep a pile of secrets.

How humiliating.

He considered sleeping on the bare floor in protest; but, his back still hurt. Once again, subject to the tyranny of an organic body. He sighed, pulled his bedsheet from the console table, and curled up on the sofa.

The moment he lay down, a scent soaked into the seat cushion made his heart leap into his throat. He was sure he could smell home. Familiar and comforting and right—and for a moment the evidence of his other six senses didn't matter: he had his power back, he was in his kingdom, and all was right with the world. It took a moment to figure out what about the scent had so strongly disoriented him: he was smelling the atmosphere of the Nightmare Realm.

And then took another moment to work out that it wasn't really the Nightmare Realm, but a very similar scent—sulfurous, organic, burning. Burnt hair.

The cushion still smelled like Ford.

Bill groaned in frustration, rolled off the sofa, and flopped to the floor.

After permitting himself a moment of rage at the injustices of the multiverse, Bill crawled up onto the chaise lounge on the left end of the sofa, avoiding the part of the sofa where Ford used to sleep.

The chaise was smaller than his floor cushion bed used to be; but he'd make do.

####

(I know we're all busy going insane over the website but i'd love a comment when y'all read this chapter lol)

#bill cipher #human bill cipher #soos ramirez #gravity falls #gravity falls fic #gravity falls fanart #fanart #my art #my writing #bill goldilocks cipher #(so how we feeling today on thisisnotawebsitedotcom day? good? everyone feeling good? we all having fun?)

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hedgehog-moss · 1 year ago

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Today felt like the last day of summer... I spent a long time following a little stream, looking for the spot where I'd found wild currants last year. They had clearly moved to a different spot, or maybe I'm just bad at finding things again because the only landmarks my brain finds worth remembering are stuff like "there were two baby cows to the left" or "there was a majestic hawk perched on a fencepost." I did know the currants grew near a waterfall that's near a little hamlet, and (unlike the baby cows) both were still here one year later.

Half an hour into our quest Pandolf had decided we must be looking for water, so he stopped like "Here!!" every time he found a noteworthy watery spot, it was very sweet.

Eventually I resigned myself to the fact that I wasn't going to find my favourite berries this year, and I went back to the road—and found raspberries instead! The last ones of the summer...

I was like "I accept this consolation prize, world, thank you" and had started picking raspberries when I heard soft dainty footsteps on the road behind me. On reflex I said "Bonjour !" as I was turning around and then realised I'd just said bonjour to this lady:

She walked up to me like she was about to ask me for directions, but then went right past me and walked on with the same purposeful air.

She stopped to admire the view above the waterfall like an old lady on her routine evening walk, then she was on her way.

Pandolf and I went in the opposite direction, to go home, and we soon found another pony who was clearly the first one's pasture mate. This one was in her pasture and she looked sad and abandoned (and/or outraged). She kept pacing and then stopping behind the fence and whinnying.

After we crossed the hamlet we saw a guy on his tractor on the road—he was on his way to a pasture where you could see a little herd of cows who had formed an orderly queue in front of their milking parlour. It was evening milking time and the ladies knew it.

Cows queue like British citizens, I mean very politely and patiently, but still I didn't want to keep them waiting so I hesitated to stop the guy to tell him about the fugitive. I chose the compromise of trotting besides his tractor to give him the news, and the tractor was very loud so he couldn't hear me well and I had to sort of convey the concept of escaped ponyhood with hand gestures. The guy looked in the direction I was indicating and then nodded and moved his arms in a philosophical gesture of total acceptance, like, "Such is life." Or maybe it was "Not my pony, not my problem."

I on the other hand feel a deep sense of community with people who have escape artist animals, so I ended up turning back to see if I could at least orient the pony in the vague direction of her pasture. I found her at a crossroads, wondering where tonight's walk would take her.

When I tried to go around her and shoo her back in the right direction, she went off the road and down by the stream, which wasn't the plan, and Pandolf happily followed her then barked at me like "hey!! water!!" Our search for water had ended but I followed them to humour him—and! I found some wild currants! down by the little bridge that the pony was waiting for me to notice like some mystical guide.

There were no actual berries to be found, I'm a bit too late for that, but I got some cuttings to transplant near my house and since I thought I was going to go home empty-handed it made me feel successful anyway.

So maybe the pony saw me meandering near her pasture looking for currants and decided to escape so she could help me out. A criminal with a heart of gold. If I'd walked by the bridge I might have seen the currants without her help because, guess what, last year's hawk, Guardian of the Gooseberries, was still there on his fencepost nearby. What a good landmark! But I wouldn't have walked by the bridge without the pony's prompting as I had already given up on my search, so she did escape for a good cause.

I tried to use the currants as bait to attract the pony (let's call her Mrs Berry) towards her pasture, but after I pulled the leaves out of her reach for the third time I lost her trust and she stopped paying attention to me. So I had to go back to the good old method to make shetland ponies move, i.e. walk behind her and occasionally pretend-kick in the direction of her bum, the way you'd shepherd a reticent pigeon.

Her friend looked pretty indifferent upon seeing her again, so I think she wasn't whinnying out of worry but because she's a Pirlouit (a snitch).

I opened the pasture gate but Mrs Berry had absolutely no intention of going home so early. She went in the opposite direction, for a little stroll around her hamlet. (Look at Pandolf merrily leading the way! He loves escape artist animals, he thinks they're so much more fun than everybody else.)

Nobody was home in the house by the pasture and I decided to let Mrs Berry stroll, now that she was no longer on the road walking away towards the distant horizon. I figured she must be a Pampérigouste, a known local personage who goes out for an adventure every now and then. We let her have her harmless fun in the two and a half streets of her little village, and since we had lost some time following this pony round, the sun was now quite low and Pan was all prettily backlit as he frolicked on the way home <3

#crawling along #another very long post to say not much at all but i loved this little encounter!

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chelseeebe · 7 months ago

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too sweet (for me) p2

lines begin to blur between his two lives, eddie feels hopeless at any semblance of keeping you away from that side of him. how does he fair when murray drags you kicking and screaming into this world?

a/n: so perhaps this is a little dramatic and very soap opera-esque but it was so much fun to write! i have a little thing i’d like to write for a part 3 but it is very much domesticity and sadness so we’ll see hehe <3

read part one here.

18+. mdni. smut. mentions of drugs and crime references throughout. eddie munson x fem!reader

eddie lingers over your shoulder, catching glimpses of him in the mirror as you fluff your hair and pucker your lips. he likes to sit and watch you get ready, just like how he used to watch his mom when he was much younger.

“so where are you going tonight?” he queries, a hint of territoriality about his question.

you shrug, swiping the lipgloss over your lips, “probably ace’s.. i don’t know yet,” meeting his eyes through the mirror.

admittedly, it had been a tough few weeks. he shut down for a few days, restricted to his bed as you cleaned up the mess he brought home. you were just grateful to have eddie back, the colour slowly coming back to his face thanks to your gentle love.

“i’ll take you,” arms snaking around your waist, “unless you wanna stay?” peppering kisses to your neck, the sweet scents of your overzealous sprits of perfume overwhelming his nose.

you giggle, though you make zero effort to shake him off, “i’m going,” wrapping your hand around his arm to keep it from travelling any further up your dress.

a tiny sense of guilt hits your chest, he was still shaken by whatever had happened. you’d practically moved yourself into his apartment, taking care of him for weeks. he’d rarely been alone since the day he’d stumbled in here with bloody hands and a newfound stammer.

“okay,” he relents, “what time do you think you’ll be done? i’ll come and get you,” face nestled into the crook of your neck.

you wouldn’t put it past him to just wait outside for hours, ready and waiting to see you again.

“why don’t you just come? i’m sure the girls won’t mind.”

he shakes his head, planting one last kiss to your shoulder before letting go, “no no.. you have fun,” nodding, as if to assure himself that he’d be fine.

eddie drives you right to the door, ignoring the disgruntled bouncers trying to get him to move. “don’t do anything stupid, i’ll be here when you’re ready,” squeezing your knee as you gather your bag from the floor.

you lean over the leather console, pecking his lips, leaving a small smudge of glittery gloss as you go.

“yessir.. love you,” before clambering out of the car, knowing smile plastered across your face as the door shuts.

there had been a sense of uncertainty about saying it, though you’d felt it for a short while now. only solidified by the last couple of weeks and the newfound upset you felt to be leaving him. it was like all your feelings were merged into one, dread bundled together with excitement. a scary but otherwise comforting feeling.

he immediately rolls your window down, leaning forward to catch you properly, “what? what’d you say?”

you shrug, scampering off into the queue as he watches, mouth hung open in sheer shock.

what you didn’t know was that eddie had been toying with the same sentiment, adamant to not scare you away but otherwise desperate to tell you.

he pulls off, beaming from ear to ear, counting down the seconds until he sees you again.

you perch on the marble countertop, legs swinging as eddie accidentally brushes past for the thousandth time, hand lingering on your thigh for a few seconds too long. the pot threatening to boil over if he keeps neglecting it in lieu of you.

“why’re you looking at me like that?” he asks, resuming his position at the stovetop.

he’d carefully perfected his little chef routine, throwing god knows what into the pan as if he had any clue what he was doing.

“i just can’t believe that you’re cooking for me.. have you ever even used this kitchen before?” chuckling at him, wishing he had gone all out and worn an apron.

“what the hell are you talking about? i cook all the time,” smooth talking, attempting to distract you from the near burnt pan of food in front of him.

“i don’t believe you,” you tease, glancing wearily at your supposed dinner. knowing damn well that he’d be on his way to pick something up in the next half an hour.

he leaves his station, faux-angry stare on his face as he leans on your knees, “you won’t be having any of this if you’re gonna keep being rude.”

the buzzer interrupts before you can insult his skill, or lack thereof, any longer.

eddie frowns towards the door, “i’ll get it,” trying hard to palm the cooking onto you.

“no no,” you hop down from the counter, “you try not to burn anything else and i’ll get it,” already out of the kitchen before he can protest.

the door opens to a man you’ve never seen before, glasses and crazy hair accompanying his toothy grin. those two goons eddie has to babysit sometimes are stood behind, looking as foolish as ever with their hands over their chests.

“ah! just the woman i wanted to see,” he beams, pointing into the apartment, “can i come in?”

“i’m sorry- who are you?”

but before the maniacal man can answer, eddie begins from behind, “let him in,” voice full of regret, you had wished you’d never hear it again.

you open the door wider, watching as they file in to the apartment. dumb and dumber barely able to walk on their own two feet without tripping over each other.

your eyes meet eddie’s but you can’t place whatever it is he’s trying to say. a look of warning maybe, hesitance and slight fear in his usually soft eyes. you’d figured it was something to do with his work, maybe the scene you had walked into those few weeks ago.

“have a seat,” the man smiles, gesturing towards the sofa.

they sit strategically, boxing you into the empty seat in between those two idiots. forcing you apart, a twisted mind game you wanted no part of.

eddie looks wracked with worry, sitting in the empty seat next to the other man. you want to jump up, order them to leave and do this some other time.

“i’m murray,” the man announces, staring right into your soul, “i work with eddie here.. for.. what is it? seven years now?” thumping eddie on the back.

he nods, chewing on his lower lip, choosing to stare at the floorboards rather than you, which stings a little.

“anyway! i didn’t come to small talk, i’m sure you two are very busy with whatever it is you young people do in your free time,” murray scrunches his nose, returning his heavy gaze to you. “i have a problem, you see, i’m a salesman, i sell things and to sell things, i have to get my product to different places,” nodding along with his words.

your eyes flit between him and eddie, figuring out exactly what he was asking.

“so,” he begins again, leaning forward, elbows pressed to his knees, “i need you to take it there,” not looking at eddie or either of the two losers beside you.

you. he was looking at you.

eddie interjects, “no, absolutely not,” jaw clenched taut, his fists balled by his sides.

“i didn’t ask you,” murray spits back.

you can see eddie’s chest heaving, anger bubbling through his body.

“where?”

their eyes fall back to you, eddie blinking rapidly. it’s like he can’t believe you’d ever agree to something so stupid.

“well all you’d have to do is take.. a bag down to.. mexico.”

“-mexico?” eddie interrupts again, jumping forward in his seat.

murray’s face turns to confusion, “is that not what i said? jeff! is that not what i said?”

jeff nods along, “that’s what you said,” like a creepy puppet doll, obeying his master.

“she can’t.. mexico, murray? that’s too far-”

“and why can’t she, eddie?” turning to face your boyfriend, a stern glare plastered firmly on his face, “i’m not hearing any objections from her, so what’s your problem?”

eddie looks up, catching your eye, chewing on the inside of his cheek. he’s swallowing whatever objection he has contained on his tongue. but you’re not stupid.

you either do this or your life gets very complicated, you’d seen enough movies to know that men like murray don’t fuck around.

“okay,” you say meekly, holding eddie’s gaze in hope that he’ll understand, that he knows you well enough now to know that you’re agreeing for both of your sakes.

“great,” murray beams, “my cousin has an apartment down there, you can stay a few days.. enjoy the scenery, whatever i don’t care,” ignoring eddie’s huffs of defiance.

you don’t remember a lot of what he says next, talking about the drop and other insignificant details. eddie volunteers to head down before you, wait for you in mexico to ensure everything goes to plan, which you appreciate.

they get up to leave while you’re still sat weighing up your decision and how badly this could end. eddie walks them to the door, glad to see them gone.

murray yanks him out of the door, tight grip onto his arm, “you wanna buy her a nice shiny ring?” glowering directly into his face, “or a big house so you can knock her up a couple’a times before you give this all up? hmm?”

eddie swallows, adams apple bobbing nervously in his throat. but nods, because he does want that. it’s all he’s wanted since he met you.

“then you’ll do whatever i tell you to do, okay?” face only mere inches away, “this is how you get those things.”

eddie doesn’t say a word as he stomps back in, heading straight for his bedroom without so much as a glance toward you.

his cold shoulder cuts deep, wedging a lump into your throat. you did this for him, for both of you. it wasn’t as if you had much choice between going to mexico or losing eddie.

you creep into the silent room what felt like hours later, heart aching for just a hint of reassurance.

he’s sat on the bed, facing the window, back to the door. you don’t want to startle him but feel absolute desperation to talk to him.

“eddie?” speaking quietly into the room.

he sighs, shoulders relaxing at the sound of your voice.

“i’m sorry if i said the wrong thing.. i was just trying to help,” blinking away the sharp tears threatening to spill.

you linger in the doorway, wary of the thick cloud of tension that had settled over the apartment.

“i’m not.. angry at you,” standing at last, turning to face after an eternity apart. he slinks over, ashamed of his own actions, he had never wanted to make you feel like this. “i didn’t want you to get involved in all this shit,” shaking his head as he walks over, throwing his arms around your sunken shoulders, “i don’t wanna lose you.”

you rest your cheek on his chest, slinging your arms tight around his waist, “you’re not going to,” and you meant it.

- eddie’s pov -

eddie has nearly thrown up at least twenty times since he’d left you for the airport.

he was going to land in mexico a couple hours before you hopefully arrived.

the plane journey is long, his only thoughts being you. if you were safe. if you’d made it onto the plane or not. watching the clock, waiting to just land and be one step closer to knowing.

murray had swindled his friend into letting you stay at his place for a few days, a large villa not too far from the airport. it’s warm and he’s sweating through his clothes, dumping his bag on the floor without a care in the world.

stepping out onto the balcony and lighting a cigarette whilst simultaneously trying his hardest not to hyperventilate. you should be on the plane by now, somewhere 3000 miles above, safe and sound.

squishing all of the echoing thoughts of what if or the images of you in a cell somewhere in mexico. it does nothing for the churning in his stomach, tossing the half-finished cigarette off into the distance somewhere.

eddie is restless, buzzing around the house as he waits rather impatiently for you to waltz through the door.

you should be here by now. the blazing sun finally setting in the sky, though he’s still sweating.

the clock ticks loudly, as if it were taunting him. every second you’re not here, he descends further into his despair, heart pounding as he paces the creaking floorboards.

a short wrap at the door makes him jump but he wastes no time in answering it, throwing the door open to find a strangely docile and calm version of you. polar opposite to how he had spent the last few hours.

“oh my god,” breathing a sigh of relief, unable to stop himself from lifting you from the ground, spinning around the warm evening air as you shriek.

you’re still elevated when he puckers his lips, attacking any skin he could get ahold of. a chorus of high pitched squeals and giggles coming from above, sending his heart into a frenzy.

“put me down,” you order, whacking him on the back, right between the shoulder blades.

he does as he’s told, still clinging onto your waist, fearing you’ll just slip away again. he felt a thousand pounds lighter, to see you, hold you again after only a few hours.

“you’re okay? how was it? did anyone stop you?” going a million miles at once, keeping you at arms length as he examines your face.

“it was fine,” you chuckle, your nonchalance a little unsettling, “nobody even looked at me,” shrugging your shoulders as if you hadn’t just smuggled a kilo of cocaine over the border.

“jesus christ,” eddie exhales, cupping your cheek in his hand, “you’re not doing that again, i’ll kill him if he asks,” he thinks he might just kill him anyway. his heart had nearly given out a hundred times, hell would freeze over before he ever let murray do something so stupid again.

“okay okay,” you brush past eddie, fed up already of his incessant coddling, marvelling at the view outside the apartment.

he slings your bag over his shoulder, joining you at the window, “nice, isn’t it?” knocking his elbow gently into your side.

he’d already envisioned how he would have you bent over the balcony later.

“let’s go out tonight,” looking toward him with your sparkly eyes, “i want to celebrate not getting arrested.”

eddie’s head lulls to the side, trying to hide his disappointment. “do we have to?” grabbing your waist to pull you closer, brazenly attempting to get you to stay here.

“yes,” you order, palms flat on his chest, “if you love me, you’ll go.”

you’re squished into the tiny booth, legs draped over eddies thighs as people come and go all around. he’s not interested in anything else going on in the busy bar, just you.

sharing lazy kisses between drinks, his hand resting on your thigh, ever so slowly inching upwards.

eddie hadn’t even wanted to leave the house, hoping you’d spend three days fucking your way around the furniture.

instead, you’d somehow convinced him to go out. though he couldn’t resist when you stepped out with that tiny dress on, sitting perfectly on your hips.

your nose brushes against his, breathing in the thick air that sat between you. the room could very well be ablaze right now, but eddie wouldn’t even notice. too consumed with you, palming at the inside of your thigh as his eyes gaze into yours.

“‘m gonna get a drink,” he breathes, squeezing your thigh before shifting your legs back to the floor.

he dares to look back when he reaches the bar, eyes immediately drawn to the six foot something adonis now lingering by the booth.

eddie wasn’t particularly jealous or insecure, secure in the fact that you were his and nothing would change that. but he couldn’t help but let a little envy seep into his eyes.

a fire burning in his stomach at the sight of you chittering away to this stranger. you weren’t a stranger to attention, not one to shy away. so why should you now?

he grits his teeth on the walk back over, grip tightening around the glasses, prepared to smash them over this pricks head.

“who’s this?” painting on his fakest smile, sliding back into the booth next to you.

you glance at eddie, just long enough for him to see that terrible glint in your eye. preparing for trouble.

“this is..” reaching out for the strangers arm, “sorry, what was your name again?” batting your lashes, an act eddie was used to and yet, still detested.

“alejandro,” the man purrs, taking your hand in his.

eddie resists the urge to jump across the table and wring his neck. biting on his cheek rather than letting what he really wants to say out.

“alejandro,” you echo, all starry eyed.

he’s not going to play up to it, well aware that you don’t actually give a shit about the chiseled man. you just want a reaction from eddie, maybe throw his weight around a little so you could reward him later.

you look back at eddie, pouting a little when he doesn’t give you what you want. confusion plagues your expression before you quickly drop the man’s hand, displeased with the reaction, or lack thereof, you had been given so far.

“it was nice to meet you,” eddie nods, shooing him away without so much as a look at you.

he slinks away, leaving the two of you sat in uncomfortable silence. taking careful sips of his drink, calculating his next move as he was sure you would also be doing.

“d’you wanna go home?” you pry, attempting to snake your arm around his though he doesn’t budge.

“do you?”

your eyes flash with hurt only momentarily until a lightbulb flickers and you realise getting him home means one step closer to getting what you’re fiending after.

“yeah.”

eddie nods, standing from the booth, “lets go then,” more so barking his order rather than asking.

and you’d follow along like a dumb little dog because the result was always always worth the temporary wait.

eddie’s a smart man, at least sometimes.

he’s wise to your games and refuses to rise to it. flopping onto the bed, watching as you dance around the room, antsy and eager for his reaction.

his hands are itching to touch you, enjoying every last second of you flitting about, the anxious eye contact as you get ready for bed.

you’ve just about had enough when he doesn’t react to your new pyjamas. not even a nod of acknowledgement. nada. nothing.

“eds,” you huff, jutting your bottom lip out as far as it’ll go, “is that it? you’re not even gonna talk to me?”

he pulls his eyes from the window, containing his smirk. you’re putty in his hands and you don’t even know it, falling right into his trap.

“what? i’m talking to you right now?”

the mattress dips as you climb on top, “you’re being weird.”

“i’m not being weird?”

your nostrils flare, tired of his silly little act. taking matters into your own hands by clambering onto his lap, perching atop of his thighs.

“stop being a dick and touch me,” you pout, practically begging for an inch of his attention. your hands grab onto his, placing them on your waist in an attempt to make him do something.

eddie weighs up his options, deciding that pushing your buttons one last time would make everything all the more worthwhile.

he lets his arms flop back into the bed, sighing softly, “baby, i’m tired,” jutting his chin to the sky, urging himself to not just toss you onto the bed and pound you into the mattress.

he hadn’t anticipated your reaction, climbing from his legs to stand beside him, “maybe alejandro would touch me,” you spit, turning to stomp out of the room as if he wouldn’t chase you to the ends of the earth.

eddie jumps up, bounding after you to grab your waist, pulling you back toward the bed with a squeak.

“too fuckin’ bad he’s not going to then, isn’t it?” pinning you between his body and the mattress. “you gonna stop being a little bitch?”

he hates that you’re not even mad, wild eyes glinting in the dim light, as you nod, chewing on your bottom lip.

“huh? you gone shy on me all of a sudden?”

your head shakes, stars in your eyes and absolutely any thought drained from your pretty little head. “beg for it,” he barks, nose just barely brushing against yours.

“please,” you gulp, fire burning in your stomach, at mercy to his touch.

eddie stands up straight, pulling your body down the bed by the legs, hips banging against your heat, groaning at the contact.

“hmm,” he hums, manoeuvring your thighs onto his shoulders, “i can’t hear you sweetheart,” palming at the doughy skin as his hands trail upwards.

“please eddie,” you whine, guiding his hands back down, aching for them to slide between your legs. “i need you,” rutting your hips with every grope and grab he allows.

his boxers strain against your silky pyjama shorts, the utter desperation dripping from your throat makes him crazy, electricity buzzing through his bloodstream.

he’s addicted to you. the way you feel, the way you smell, the way your body keens and melts for him.

“fuck,” lips vibrating against your neck, “stop playing those stupid games with me,” though quite honestly, he did enjoy the little chase routine you guys had curated.

you nod, arching your hips to allow him to slip your shorts down, working them down and off onto the floor. his hands slithering back up over the soft skin until his hand rests comfortably on your thigh.

eddie would love to toy around with you a little bit longer but his dick was starting to ache against his boxers with every not-so-subtle move of your hips.

he stands up straight, tugging the cotton down his thighs, the elastic resting just beneath his heavy balls.

his fingers slide between your slick folds, disappearing inside your cunt, pulling the strangled moan from your lips with every dip of his fingers.

“look at you,” he purrs, though he knows you’ll make no effort to actually look, “so pretty for me,” admiring your pussy, pupils near enough heart shaped.

his knees dig into the mattress, hovering above as his fingers grip onto your hips, sinking in to your cunt with a hoarse groan.

you cry out, grateful for him giving you what you had begged for at long last. hands flailing about for something to grab, fingers twisting around the soft cotton blanket, pulling the sheets from the bed.

eddie’s hands roam all over, palming your breasts and then back down to your calves, keeping them firmly balanced on his chest.

“fuck baby,” he coos, forcing himself to go slow, savour the feeling. you’re insatiable like this, sprawled out on the mattress, head thrown back, full of nothing.

hand disappearing between your legs as his thumb circles your neglected clit, watchful eyes lapping up your every move your body makes in response to him.

he’d never believed in all that soulmate shit before meeting you but now he couldn’t fathom the idea of ever being with anyone other than you. two people made to fit together by some grace of god.

your thighs cramp around his wrist, keeping his hand firmly there while you writhe around.

your eyes squeeze shut, eddie can already feel you clench around him, “you gonna cum already?” he teases, what kind of boyfriend would he be if not to mock you.

“n-no,” you gasp, fingers intertwined with the white sheets surrounding your head.

the headboard knocks gently against the wall with every thrust of his hips, the cool midnight breeze seeping in through the open window though it does nothing to stop eddie’s brow from sweating.

you snap, coming undone all around him, melodic moans filling the room, somewhere tangled between his low grunts and the filthy sounds of your bodies meeting.

“good girl,” he coos, reaching up to hold your chin between his fingers, forcing you to look up at him.

your eyes glossy with tears, lips puffy and swollen when your hand wraps around his wrist, struggling to hold eye contact as his thrusts continue.

biting down on your bottom lip, becoming a puddle of nothingness right before his eyes.

“sh-shit,” you mewl, his thumb still circling your clit, pulling you straight back to orgasm.

eddie leans over, pressing his dripping chest to yours as his hand slinks down to your neck, loosely squeezing the skin all while your lips meet in a hazy, messy kiss.

“one more.. for me,” he pants into your mouth, burying himself inside of your cunt, filled to the hilt.

only responding with a drawn out wail, clinging onto his cheeks for a little levity. his cock nudging your sweet spot. tipping you closer and closer to the edge once more.

“fu-uck,” you pant, sucking on his bottom lip. he can feel you tighten around him, thighs drawing him in. “cum in me,” babbling nonsense into his mouth.

there’s no way he can think clearly, too utterly lovesick with your pussy for any critical thought to seep in. it was a bad idea, his gut told him as much.

but at the end of it all, he’d give you what you wanted. no matter what.

“you want that? hmm?” breathing through his teeth.

your head nods enthusiastically, bleary eyes meeting again, sweat mixing with your tears of overstimulation and exhaustion.

disgusting and erotic all at once.

eddie can feel your legs begin to quiver around him, pretty little mouth falling slack, threatening to swallow him whole.

“ohmygod,” you rush, chest heaving rapidly as your eyes flutter shut.

eddie near enough chokes on the thick air, a pitiful final few thrusts before filling your cunt. a decision he’d regret in the morning but made perfect sense for right now.

he grunts, the air knocked from his lungs at the immense, earth-shattering feel of you and your body enveloping him.

tendrils of his hair come loose from the haphazard bun he had thrown up, covering your pretty, dewy face.

“‘s that what you wanted?” balancing carefully on his elbows, carefully brushing your hair from your sticky forehead.

“yes,” grinning wearily, your hand gentle as it now lay on his cheek.

“you’re gonna be the death of me, y’know?”

“mhm,” you hum in agreement, fingers delicately weaving into his hair, “just don’t die before we get married.”

his smile fades, fingers poised as they tuck your hair behind your ear, “are you saying you wanna get married?” completely prepared to slide down onto one knee right here and now.

your nail traces carefully over the scar on his cheek, gazing lovingly into his eyes, “obviously,” pausing momentarily, “you still have to ask me properly though.”

eddie’s laugh bubbles over, burying his face into your chest, wondering how long after this conversation he’d have to wait to ask and just how much he couldn’t wait to spend the rest of his life right here, next to you.

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff

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hochmvt · 15 days ago

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On most days, Isaiah had stopped stuttering. His speech impediment, which had given him countless hours of silence and a deep-seated insecurity in childhood (still lingering onto him to this day), was a remnant, a fragment of a side of him that rarely surfaced; the side of him that was as lost as Carter, who disappeared twenty-two years ago––and resurfaced a couple later. In a world of constant sensory overload however, of a fast-paced life, of a plethora of bright colors, of neon signs, of sensory numbing noise and sick from an epidemic of anonymity and loneliness, it was hard to not feel lost. On days like these, he stuttered, barely getting a sentence out, thus feeling increasingly alienated and disconnected from the world and his peers. Therefore, it was all the nicer when he found company in his unfamiliarity. Solitude.

He nodded in agreement at her words—how beautifully she spoke, how allegorical and reflective; he hadn't experienced this kind of communication for a long time, especially not with a stranger—, alternately touched the fingertips of his other fingers with the tip of his thumb, began to play with the hem of his hoodie to keep his hands and his mind busy and thus entertained. The first attempt to get a word out again was cautious, uncertainty still reverberating and echoing within him. How terribly embarrassing his stammering had been, he thought. “I think it's hard to focus on that sometimes, when everything around you... blurs into this—,” he gestured messily, “incoherent conglomeration of noises, in whose sea it's hard to form a coherent thought in the first place. For me, it often feels as if I'm anesthetized. As if I can't access my intellectual, rational side.” A heavy sigh, even though he didn't get hung up on any vowels or consonants. "When I'm in an environment where there's much less sensory overload, I have a better sense of listening. To myself and to others too.” Then he apologized. “You wanted to say something before—all this... What did you see when you were in that house? I mean, from what I've heard no one has lived there for decades.”

❝ i think i just need to be quiet for a little bit. ❞

Nausicaa pivoted toward him, and pulled out her ear buds, one at a time. She could understand about the need for quiet, for the deafening silence that was almost impossible to come by in such a fast-paced environment. But she found the more quiet it got, the more resolute she became in her resolve, and it was harder to dig herself up from the surface of the ground if she sank so far into it.

❛ If you look hard enough for it, the world can be quiet. ⸻ Even if it's seething with its voracious appetite and snapping teeth, just waiting to take its first bite. ❜

Sometimes quiet was the calm before the storm, and she felt one brewing through the onslaught of trees that all but bent to her sway.

#(( nausicaa just sitting there and giving my baby some space to catch his breath had me dying bye ))#(( him opening up about the world moving a little too fast for him sometimes too ))#(( if you're down for some hill house vibes i'm all yours hehe ))#(( but take it wherever ! ))#(( sorry for letting you wait so long i'm tackling my queue ))#wickedslip #— ❛❛ // answers ¦ we are unusual and tragic and alive

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youtellmeman · 10 months ago

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Hello ma’am 😈 I am here to request 😈 I’m thinking neteyam and reader are like enemies😡 they do not like each other okay but somewhere somehow they accidentally perform tsaheylu with each other and then they bang 😦

Yuh first request done-zo I really enjoyed writing this so i hope you like it.

Neteyam Sully x Fem!Na'vi!reader

Rated R

includes- smut, ma as a pet name, baby as a pet name, fingering, p in v, dirty talk, fem genitailia, accidental tsaheylu

In this tsaheylu is only explicitly erotic the first time around and it can be used to simply better understand what your mate is thinking/feeling.

Na'vi word translations

tiwan- love, wiya- damn, tewng- loincloth, knalu- fuck, Uvang- damn, skxwang- moron,imu’ta- bitch

italics= spoken in na'vi

Hating Neteyam, had been easy. After all it was all you'd ever known when it came to the blue boy. You’d always seen him as so, so irritating.

He always thought he knew better, better than his siblings, better than the other kids in the village, and better than you. That being eldest son to the Olo’eyktan made him so much smarter than those his age and unfortunately it seemed that trait would follow him to his grave as even now, after being accepted into the clan as an adult,he held himself to be so all knowing.

“What are you doing out here?” the voice came from behind you, his voice. “This area of the forest is dangerous, you should have someone with you.”

“Why, because I am incapable of taking care of myself?” It's a loaded question,but you can't help the way he is so quick to get under your skin. Whipping around to meet his citron eyes, raising a brow when you hear him scoff to himself.

“Why must you make everything into conflict?”

“Why must you be an imu’ta who refuses to let me live in peace.” I bite back and the air between us grows tense, eyes boring into eachothers waiting for one of us to break.

“Damn it, you are so difficult for what? I am simply looking out for you, it is dangerous, we both know this.” he huffs angrily out his nose and his tail thumbs against the ground with his growing anger.

“Have you considered that perhaps I don’t need anyone looking out for me? Especially not you, now leave me be and let me hunt in peace.” You roll your eyes and without waiting for a response you start to walk. Slinging your bow over your shoulder as you search for a new, quiet place to hunt.

“How dare you turn your back to me!” You can hear his steps speeding up after you resulting in your pace speeding as well until he manages to catch you. His slender fingers wrapping around your wrist spinning you face him. “You dare disrespect the future-”

“Future! You said it yourself!” You cut him off hissing the words at him angrily, “You hold no authority over me Neteyam so cease this useless display of power. Power that you do not have.” You spit. And maybe if you’d been less focused on the current shouting match you were having you would’ve noticed the small hand wrapping around your queue.

“Regardless of whatever you may think I am owed respect!” He snarls back and before you can you feel a sudden rush through your system, something so new yet familiar and immediately your eyes leave Neteyams face to focus on finding what's caused this surge of energy and what you can only describe as feeling. You find it immediately, honing in the little blue hand wrapped around your queue, your queue that was currently connected to, to…

“Tuktirey!” It's Neteyams voice that cuts through the silence though you can barely hear him,you can barely hear him with the wave of shock that flows through your body clogging your ears like water.

You can tell he's scolding her for a minute or two before she's shooed away, leaving you two alone still connected and you can feel it starting to ebb its way to the surface, the lust. Pupils blown wide as you find Neteyams eyes once more.

You can't find the words to ask why in the world Tuk would think that it’d be okay to connecther brother and yourself. All you can do is search his face and body for any sign he’s feeling what you are, and boy do you find it. Whether it be the rapid rise and fall of his chest or the tent in his tewng growing by the second.

Opening your mouth trying to find the words but you fail once more, or really you're cut off by the feeling of lips against yours as his hand finds its way to the base of your neck holding you close while the other pulls you in by the waist. And as his hips slot themselves so perfectly against yours you try to find some sliver of restraint, a tiny ounce of strength that will let you rip yourself away from him. You come up empty handed.

Hands finding their way to his hair pulling at the roots as you press him closer, pulling a heavenly groan from his lips.You find yourself pulling him back with you until your back meets tree, pulling back for a ragged breath.

“Holy mother.” You huff out in between breaths, Neteyam on the other hand has let his mouth wander from your jaw to neck, sucking dark purple marks onto the sensitive skin about your collar bone intermittently letting his fangs drag against the new purple markings, before coming back up. Neteyam kisses like he wants to consume you completely, it's a mess of teeth and spit as you both battle for dominance, it’s when he bites at your bottom lip that you give up on grasping at the reins letting him take complete control.

As your mouths clash Neteyam gets busy with his hands pulling the knot at the side of your loincloth before hoisting one of your legs up into his hip. Letting the arm that's not holding your leg slide between your bodies, finger sliding down your slick dampened lips, moving between tracing around your clit to moving downward to tease at your fluttering entrance. He does this a few times before you grow tired of his teasing. Pulling back to let your head rest on the bark of the tree.

“Quit it and do something, or are you just as incapable of pleasing a woman as you are at leaving me alo- ohh!” A surprised moan escapes your lips before you can finish the taunt.

“Wiya, you talk a lot.” The smug look that covers his face would have you rolling your eyes if you weren’t so focused on trying to keep them open enough to see anything at all. The annoying bastard had slipped in a finger while you were mouthing off, curling it to hit that spongy sweet spot within while letting his thumb rub lazy circles on your bud. “If I knew all it’d take to shut you up would be to stick a finger in you I woulda done it long ago.” He’s the one taunting now.

“Shut up you skxwang- hah- For you to think I would’ve ever let you touch me like this before. You clearly don’t know everything you claim.” You bite back best you can, and while you know your words hardly have any merit while you’re literally humping the palm of his land looking for more.

“Such a smart fucking mouth, lets see how that changes after I have you cumming around my fingers, hmm?” He leans close while growling out his retort, sliding in another finger as he speaks. And god, it should be criminal that it's him making you feel so incredibly good.

“Fuck Neteyam.” You whimper out and his fingers speed up their unrelenting attack, consistently hitting that sweet spot and thumb moving so quickly against that bundle of nerves it has your knees ready to buckle. “Shit, I-I need more.” You're whining against his neck now, head resting against his shoulder as he continues his assault and you can feel his chest rumble with the groan that leaves his lips.

“You want my cock baby? You want it real bad?” You can only imagine the pride on his face , but none of that matters right now, not when you really really do. So all you can do is nod as moans and groans slip from your lips at the thought.

“No, need to hear you say it. You had so much to say earlier ma , what happened?” It’s the smugness in his voice that leads you to fight against what he wants from you.

“Fuck you.” It’s practically a pant as you pull your head back from the crevice of his neck and rest it against the tree that has you sandwiched between Neteyam. Peering at him from your lidded eyes.

“Tsk tsk, not what I asked for.” He shakes his head and the small grin he wears is nothing but predatory. “You want to cum by my hands, you're gonna do what I say. " The pace he's picked up at the point is unforgiving, his fingers barely even thrust the tips simply rubbing against your most sensitive spot in a way that has you seeing stars and you can feel the coil in your stomach growing dangerously taut. But it's like he can see it on your face that you're growing close, and unfortunately he stands true to his words because as soon as you feel yourself about to teeter over the edge he stops. Leaving you withering against him.

“Nete-”

“Say it.” There's no room for negotiation in his tone, “Say it or you don’t get to cum and if you dont cum on my fingers first you sure as hell aren't getting my cock.”

It's almost pathetic how quick your resolve crumbles.

“I want you, please. Neteyam I want you please.”

“Say you need it.” Now he's just being mean cause he can.

“Fucking hell, need your cock so bad Neteyam, please.” Your breathing is ragged as you practically beg and he can hear the aggravation behind your voice.

“Not so hard is it, Tiyawn?” He quips as his fingers start to move again, thumb finding your clit as his index and middle continue the assault on the inside. And with you being so close prior it doesn’t take nearly anytime at all before your ether again, on the edge of complete euphoria just needing one last push. Push coming in the form of the third finger that ends up slamming into you, filling you up so completely and sending you crashing into waves of ecstasy. Hands finding his shoulders, nails leaving crescent marks in the blade of it as you ride your orgasm. Neteyam helps you through it, paying attention to your complete reaction while his fingered pump inside of you.

Sliding out once he's sure you’ve enjoyed the best of it,dropping your hip to your side, giving you one more openmouthed kiss before spinning you around leaving you to brace yourself on the tree that was once digging into your back. His hand finds the small of your back pushing you to be bent, arching subconsciously, readying yourself for what's to come.

You look over your shoulder just in time to see him rip the string of his tewng in a rush to move it out the way, letting his length spring up and hit his stomach.

To say that Neteyam was well endowed would be an understatement, youd heard rumors before but holy mother they didn’t do him justice. He made eye contact with you as he grabbed himself by the base getting ready to line himself up with your core.

“Like what you see?” And of course he’s cocky about this too. Neteyam raises a playful eyebrow.

“Thought you'd be bigger.” It's a lie, but you can't let his ego go unchecked. Though it doesn't seem too much as he simply sucks his teeth in response, letting a toothy grin spread across his face.

“Mhm, that’s why I can see you clenching at the sight of it then?” He retorts, still smiling as he moves, letting his tip slide between your lips, catching at your entrance. A move that has both of you shuddering in anticipation.

“Neteyam!” you whine out tired of waiting, pushing your ass back with a wiggle in anticipation and to hopefully get him to act sooner.

“Fuck, yeah okay i'm coming.” You can hear him mutter behind you. Properly lining himself this time before pushing in slowly, the girth of his head alone has you gasping for air. He’s slow to work himself in, not wanting to let his desperation for release lead to you being hurt. Eventually however he does bottom out and once he does the both of you let out sighs of relief. He gives you a moment to adjust before beginning to move, pulling back to grind back into you.

Usually this soft caring pace would leave you purring, but this is Neteyam and the fact that he just spent his time finger fucking you so good you see stars just to treat you like glass has you grinding your teeth in want for more.

“More.” You demand throwing a lust filled glare over your shoulder.

“Uvang, you feel so tight around me.” You're not even sure Neteyam heard you, his brows are pulled together and eyes scrunched in pleasure.

“Knalu Neteyam, harder!” You snap, punctuating your sentence by pushing back onto his cock which seems to break his trance.

“Eywa, why can't you let me enjoy this in peace?” His nostrils flare and eyes snap open boring into your own. Leaning forward he braces holds you by your shoulders. Sliding out till only his head is left inside of you before slamming back into you with enough strength to bruise. Switching from his heart shatteringly slow movement to thrusts that could shake Pandora itself. Thrusts that leave you gasping for air that's being knocked out of your lungs with every slam of his hips into yours.

“Oh Eywa! Neteyam fuck, yes!” Your moans are practically prayers as they fill the air around you, Not that he's being any quieter than you are. Moaning and groaning as he leans down to press wet kisses to your spine.

“Shit you feel so good Ma, fucking hell. Its like you were made to be wrapped around my cock, my perfect fucking pussy for the taking ain’t that right. ‘M gonna ruin you baby, mold this cunt to my cock. No one else could make you feel this good right Ma, c'mon tell me i'm right.” It’s hard to make out most of his rambles as he ruts into you like something feral, but you manage nonetheless.

“Fuck, yes Neteyam no one’s as good as you. No one could make me feel- oh my- feel half as good as you, shit!” You say back telling him whatever he wants to hear, telling him the truth. And it has him speeding up at which point you thought was impossible as he continues to ramble on and on about how good you feel around him against the skin of your back. One of his hands manage to find their way around your waist and to your clit, rubbing tight circles while his noises grow more animalistic by the minute and it has you fluttering around him causing him to twitch within you. The both of your peaks growing increasingly closer.

“I'm gonna cum, Net, fuck dont stop!” you warn him of your upcoming release and you can feel the way the knowledge fuels him, his grip on your shoulder tightening as he drills into you with fervor.

“Cum for me tiwan, wanna feel you cum around me, cmon.” He urges you on and soon enough it comes. Surginging through you like electricity, punctuated by a high pitched whine as your legs tremble. Neteyam fucking you through it fighting to hold off his own upcoming orgasm in lew of making sure you can enjoy yours to the fullest and soon enough you start to come down, the way you clench becoming softer and more spaced out as you begin to take deep breaths in order to ground yourself.

It only takes a few more pumps before the euphoria is hitting him like a splash of cold water and he’s quick to pull out and spill his seed on the curve of your ass and back, groaning your name slowly as he works his way through it.

Eventually you both restore enough air in your lungs to disconnect yourselves and get cleaned up. Finding a small and unoccupied pond to wash his essence of yourself along with the sweat you'd worked up along the way before slipping your clothes back on and helping him repair the string of his loincloth well enough that it would not fall off on his trek through the village.

Still once you're both clothed you both take a few moments to be together and fully grasp the fact of what this connection means for the both of you. It's then that you finally find the words you’d lost earlier.

“Why did tuk do it? Why did she connect us?” You ask, your eyes finding his in confusion.

“Our parents.” He starts, “ Sometimes they fight and sometimes when they do they perform tsaheylu. In order to better understand what the other is feeling. She thought it would help us ‘get along’” he finishes explaining and you can't help but laugh at the childlike innocence of it all.

“How sweet in theory I suppose.” You smile up at him stifling a few laughs.

“Yeah,” he chuckles, “Remind me to thank her when we get back.” At that you roll your eyes and smack him in the shoulder. “Hey!”

——————

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dawnisatotalqueen · 9 months ago

Text

PROMISE

title: promise

character: steven hyde x reader

warnings: alcohol use, marijuana use, mentions of virginity, mentions of assault, cursing, semi frequent use of l/n (last name), zen masters (jackie x hyde) if u squint

summary: when you met the boys, you made a promise to never date any of them. though this gets harder and harder to follow as you all get older and more attractive.

disclaimer: i do not support danny masterson in any way, shape, or form. i just have an attachment to hyde </3

word count: 2972

part two

You were a maneater. At least, that’s what your friends said and you didn’t necessarily disagree. In your mere 17 years of life, you had accumulated nearly 30 boyfriends. In a town like Pointplace, there weren’t very many eligible bachelors, and it didn’t help that you swore off dating the hottest one.

Years prior, at the very beginning of middle school, when you had met Kelso, Foreman, and Hyde, you made a promise. You promised to yourself, and to them, that you would never date them. You enjoyed their company a lot, which is exactly why you didn’t want to risk dating any of them.

Naturally, as time progressed and Fez joined the group, he was included in the group of boys you wouldn’t date, though in all honesty, you probably never would have dated him regardless.

As you got older, you had started to ever so slightly regret your promise because as you got older, so did the boys, and oh boy, was one of them hot.

Hyde was gorgeous and exactly your type. But did you think Hyde was hot because he was your type, or did you think he was hot because he set the standard for your type? The world may never know.

To put those feelings aside, you upped the ante on your dating game. You were the most “desirable” out of your friend group except for maybe Donna or Jackie. You dated jocks, nerds, stoners, and basically any other clique in your high school.

That led you to now, walking into Eric Foreman’s basement, which is where you usually were, waiting for a guy to show up for a date.

You wore a pretty black dress and your signature green bomber jacket.

Donna was the first to look over, whistling with a grin. “Damn! You look great.”

Jackie looked over, gasping a little and pushing up off of Kelso to rush over to you. “That dress is gorgeous!! Much better than what you usually wear.” She looked over the dress.

You giggled at the backhanded compliment. It was something you were used to with Jackie, and you found it endearing. “Thanks! Got it just for the date. Definitely keeping it, though.”

Hyde raised a brow. “You don’t usually dress up for dates. Must really like the guy, huh?” You didn’t notice it then, but he shifted uncomfortably, his posture tensing.

“Damn it!! Stupid lucky guy, getting (L/N) to dress up all nice for him..” Kelso crossed his arms over his chest, pouting.

“At least we get to be blessed with the sight.” Fez sighed happily.

“I don’t know, I don’t really like him.” You shrugged. “He’s just takin’ me somewhere fancy, figured it was the least I could do.”

“Well, you look great. Hope you have fun.” Donna got up, patting you on the back.

“Thanks!! I’ll swing by after, yeah?”

“We’ll leave the door unlocked.” Eric commented, smiling.

“Great!” You heard a honk outside. “That’s my queue. Cya!” You grinned, heading out the door.

Hyde rolled his eyes, or, that’s what everyone assumed. It was a little hard to tell with the glasses. “Doesn’t even have the decency to knock, and she’s giving this guy a shot?” He scoffed.

“Someone sounds jeaaalouusss!!” Kelso snickered.

“I’m not jealous. I just think (L/N) could do better than some dude who can’t even knock on the door.”

“It’s okay if you’re jealous, Hyde! I mean, she’s going out with a popular jock. It makes sense you’d feel insecure.” Jackie returned to her spot next to Kelso.

“Why would I care?”

“It’s obvious you guys have a little back and forth thing.” Jackie giggled.

Donna hummed, leaning against the couch. “I figured you guys would’ve at least made out by now.”

Hyde scoffed. “Never gonna happen. She literally swore off ever dating me, Foreman, and Kelso.”

“Is that all that’s stopping you?” Eric raised a brow.

“No.” Hyde was almost too quick to answer. What he didn’t say was that he thought you were out of his league. He was a teenage dirtbag, and while you were their friend, you also were more of a social floater than anything. You dated jocks and the most popular guys in school. He’d be stupid to think you could ever be interested in dating him..

Right?

It had been a couple of hours since you left, and everyone had sort of faded out. Eric retreated upstairs to his room, heading to bed, and everyone else had returned to their respective houses.. Everyone except for Hyde, that is, as he had found himself recently staying in the Foreman’s basement after an incident with his Mom.

He lounged on the couch, taking a puff from a blunt that he had rolled when he heard the door open.

You stumbled in, reeking of cheap booze. More importantly, though, you had visibly been crying. Your mascara left streaks down your face, and your nose was red and puffy.

“What happened?” Hyde sat up straight, stiffening. Did that guy hurt you? He would kick his ass if he hurt you–

“That guy was a douche.” You huffed. “Got me drunk, then tried to get laid.” You wobbled over to the couch, sitting next to him. You held out your hand, and Hyde got the message, passing you the blunt.

“Did he hurt you?”

You shook your head. “Pushed him off.” You deeply inhaled the smoke before blowing it out, sighing. “Sucks. Used to it, but it sucks.”

“You’re used to it?” He stared at you, a little bewildered.

“Most guys get pissy when I won’t sleep with them.” You kicked off your heels, leaning back. “Don’t wanna lose my virginity to some guy I don’t even like.. Is that bad?” You looked at him, frowning.

“That’s not a bad thing.” He pushed a piece of your hair out of your face. “Plenty of people wanna save it for someone special. Like the whole til marriage shit.” He shrugged.

“Guess so..” You looked down before smiling, nudging him. “Why can’t every guy be as nice as you?”

He raised a brow. “You think I’m nice?”

“Yeahh!” You grinned, your slurring words the evidence of the alcohol still in your system. “In your own way. Liike, you may not act like it, but I think you care about everyone. At least a little. Like when you took Jackie to prom! Or now, you’re comforting me after a shitty date.”

“If you keep goin’ you’re gonna make my ego big.” He snickered.

You smiled, leaning your head on his shoulder. “Shut upp.. Point iss, you’re super sweet in your own way, and that’s what mattersss..”

He wrapped his arm around you. “You flatter me too much.”

After you didn’t respond, he looked over and realized you had fallen asleep on his shoulder. He sighed a little, propping you up and then picking you up. He took you to his room, laying you down on his bed and tucking you in.

He sat down next to you, watching you for a second. You looked so completely and utterly peaceful. He let out a breath before standing up.

Was your promise all that was stopping him from pursuing you?

He stood still for a second before heading to the door and flipping off the light. “Night, doll.”

You were very confused when you woke up the next morning, and you were in Hyde’s bed. You were still in the same clothes from the night before, and there was no evidence that anyone else had been in bed with you, so you felt pretty confident that you didn’t sleep together.

You scooted off of the mattress, getting up and peeking your head out the door. You didn’t see anyone in the basement, so you figured it must’ve been earlier in the day. You walked around, spotting a blanket on the couch, and you figured Hyde must’ve slept on it. But, he was nowhere to be found.

You decided to head upstairs and hopefully wash your face, maybe even get a change of clothes that Laurie left behind.

When you opened the door to the basement, you hissed a little upon seeing that the Foreman family were all sitting around the table, eating breakfast like the classic sitcom family.

You turned around, trying to tiptoe down the hallway when the floor board underneath you squeaked. You hissed, turning around when you heard Kitty’s voice behind you. “Y/N? Is that you? This early in the morning?”

You turned around, smiling awkwardly. “Ah.. Yeah, sorry. I um– I let myself in.”

Kitty gasped a little, getting up from her chair. “Goodness! You look awful!”

You assumed she was referencing your tear smudged makeup. “Yyyeah.. Rough night.”

“Let me get you cleaned up.” She put a hand on your shoulder, ushering you through the hall.

That left the boys in the kitchen. Red looked at Hyde, raising a brow. “You slept on the couch last night.

Hyde paused. “Yup.” He shoved a bite of his food in his mouth.

“Did she stay over?” Red leaned back in his chair, eyeing the curly haired boy.

Eric whistled lowly. “Dang, Hyde. Maybe Jackie was right about you being jealous.”

Hyde rolled his eyes. “It wasn’t like that. She had a crappy date and passed out. I didn’t wanna wake her up just to make her leave.”

Red looked at him for a second before raising his brows. “Well, that was nice. But you two really need to stop letting random kids crash here.” He cringed.

Meanwhile, you were in the bathroom with Kitty. You washed your face, looking at yourself in the mirror. Your eyes were a little swollen, but it was nothing major. You sighed a little before Kitty spoke. “I’ll get some clothes from Laurie’s room for you to change into. I can wash your clothes for you.”

You smiled at her, nodding. “That’d be appreciated, thank you.” You took off your jacket, handing it to her.

She smiled at you, taking your jacket before freezing when she saw your wrists.

You hadn’t realized it, but the jackass that you went on a date with had left bruises on you when he was trying to get handsy.

“Did.. Someone..” Kitty trailed off.

“No! No, no. Nothing like that. I, uh, I pushed him off of me.” You reassured her.

She frowned. “Oh, dear.. That had to have been hard.”

You looked to the side, frowning a little. “...Yeah.”

She put a hand on your shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze. “Well, you’re safe now. And you’ll have clean clothes soon enough.” She smiled, heading out the door and getting you some clothes.

Laurie’s clothes were comfortable. Kitty got you a pretty simple tank top and some pajama pants, which you didn’t mind. She told you she’d let you know when your clothes were clean, so you made your way down to the basement. It had been about an hour since you had seen Hyde and Eric since you took a shower during that time.

The usual group had gathered in the basement during that time, watching something stupid on TV. You made your way down the stairs, running a hand through your hair.

You casually walked over, sitting on the arm of the couch, putting you next to Kelso and Jackie. Only then did everyone realize you were there.

“Hey (L/N)!” Donna grinned, raising a teasing eyebrow. “How was your hot date–” She paused when she saw your appearance. Slightly swollen eyes and bruised wrists were the first thing to stand out.

“Jeez! You look awful!” Jackie looked over at you, and you couldn’t help the giggle that came out. She sounded just like Kitty.

You hummed. “The date was shit, but it’s cool. Didn’t really like the guy anyway, and I got free food.” You shrugged it off.

Hyde watched you, his eyes drifting down your body before they landed on your wrists. He didn’t see that the night before. You really did have to fight off that douche-bag.

Donna got up from where she was next to Eric, going to the back of the couch and hugging you. “Aw.. I’m sorry, babe. You can do better anyway.”

“Like Hyde said yesterday, you could do way better than a guy who honks!” Fez hummed, nodding to himself.

You blinked, looking in Hyde’s direction, seeing him shrug. “It’s true.”

You could feel your cheeks heat up, and your eyes soften, but before you could dwell on the butterflies in your stomach, you heard a honk from outside. You all paused, and Eric looked in your direction. “Do you have another date?”

You shook your head, getting up off the couch. “Who could that be?” You went to the door, opening it and going up the outside stairs, spotting a familiar car. “..Oh god.”

The guy you had gone out with the day before got out of his car, spotting you. “(Y/N)-- Can we talk?”

You grimaced, crossing your arms. “Why?”

You could hear your friends gathering up behind you as you walked up the driveway.

“Listen, I get kind of weird when I’m drunk, I didn’t mean to be so pushy.” The boy frowned, looking down at you.

You grumbled, rolling your eyes. “And I suppose you didn’t mean to ditch me and make me walk home too then?”

“You had to walk here?” Before you knew it, Hyde was by your side, looking at you.

You looked at him, frowning a little before shrugging. “Yeah. It’s–”

“Please, just– just give me another chance.” The boy stepped closer to you, trying to grab your shoulders.

Hyde stepped between you, pushing the guy away by his chest. “I think you’ve done enough.”

“And who do you think you are?” The guy stood up straight, getting in Hyde’s face.

“I’m her friend. And I don’t appreciate how you treated her.”

“Well, frankly, I think it’s none of your business how I treat her.”

“It kind of is when she busts into my basement crying.”

“Don’t be dramatic. I was just trying to have some fun.” The guy rolled his eyes. “And the bitch was basically asking for it with that dress–”

Hyde punched him, and he held his bleeding nose. The guy growled, throwing a punch at Hyde, and before you knew it, they were fighting. You squeaked, reaching your hand out. “H– hey there’s no need to fight it’s fine–”

The guy elbowed you. Right in the eye.

You hissed, holding your face. “Fuck–”

Hyde looked between you and the guy for a split second before he nailed his knee into his stomach. “You’d seriously fucking hit a chick?! What is wrong with you?!”

The guy coughed, holding his stomach and backing up toward his car, hurrying in.

“Yeah, screw off!” Hyde called after him, looking over to you.

Donna and Jackie rushed over to you, Donna, holding your shoulders. “O– ow shit– How bad is it?” You moved your hand off of your eye.

Jackie hissed. “Yikes. That’s gonna bruise. But it’s okay!! I have some absolutely great makeup that’ll cover it up, no problem!”

You giggled a little through the pain. “Ah, I don’t think that’s my biggest concern–” You looked in Hyde’s direction. “Are you okay?”

You and Hyde were left alone in the basement as the others were grabbing some stuff to help with your current conditions. Donna and Eric were getting an ice pack, Jackie was getting her makeup, and Kelso and Fez… Well, they were doing something.

You held a warm washcloth, dabbing at the little cuts and bruises on Hyde’s face. It was one of the few times you had seen him without his glasses for such a long period of time.

Once you were done, you sighed, smiling at him. “Y’know, you don’t need to get into fights for me.”

Hyde leaned back. “What? For you? Nah, the guy just had a very punchable face.”

You playfully rolled your eyes. “Right, right, my bad.”

He straightened up a little, clearing his throat. “Well, uh, are you good? I mean, that guy said some pretty nasty things..”

You shrugged a little, looking down. “I’m all good. He’s not the first guy to react like that to me rejecting them. He is the first guy to give me a black eye though.”

At the mention of your black eye, Hyde leaned forward, pushing your hair out of your face and oh so carefully touching your cheek. “Does it hurt?”

You stared at him, your breath hitching. “A little.”

He seemed to take in the fact that the two of you were mere inches away. He swallowed, looking down at you. “(L/N).. I uh.. I didn’t like that you went out with that guy.”

“What?” You furrowed your brows. “Why? Because he was like– a douche?”

“I mean, yeah, but I think it was ‘cause I uh…” He licked his lips. “I might, uh..”

Before he could say what he had on his mind, Donna and Eric made their way down the stairs, and you and Hyde quickly scooted away from each other.

Donna handed you the ice pack, and you pressed it to your eye, hissing a little.

“Jackie will be back with her makeup pretty soon, but I’d suggest not putting it on at least until the swelling goes a little down.” Donna hummed.

“Yeah, she–” Eric had started to go on a ramble about something, but you weren’t paying attention. Your eyes were on Hyde, who had casually gone back to his chair, acting as if your moment didn’t happen.

Was he going to say he liked you? What would that mean for your relationship? You were attracted to him, you had to admit, but did you like him?

Should you break your promise?

#x reader #fem reader #friends to lovers #hyde x reader #steven hyde x reader #that 70s show #that 70s show x reader #maneater!reader #playgirl!reader

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