long after they get out of town, after months (or maybe longer) have passed, after it’s been enough time to pretend anything that’s happened is even slightly funny — ryan and naim sometimes joke about the entities. they’re young, & sometimes everything feels like laugh or cry.
it’s nothing personal, no insults, nothing concerning hunter’s name or the worst, ugliest, sorest bits. just when they need more bread from the shops, and naim won’t get off the couch to come with, ryan squints and says,
“but the entity.”
(he hasn’t really seen not-naim in months. fear, right now, is a shadow skirting the edges of their lives. never gone, but not intrusive.)
naim blindly reaches an arm out and gives one of ryan’s curls a tug. ryan just smiles.
“cunt,” naim says, but he laughs. he gets up anyway.
when they walk out of woolies a little later — they’ve got a trolley full of things that aren’t bread, and ryan nearly falls on the floor trying to balance on the back of it, and naim thinks he’s lost his keys.
they get in the car laughing. the entity feels far away.
um, hello. i think tumblr has flagged me for mature content again, so as usual this is only a sneak peek. the finished piece and the time-lapse are linked here
anyways!!! i drew entity naim reid from leviticus the way i picture him in my head
i did try to make him look scary, but the sorrowful doe eyes kept getting in the way. honestly, though, i’m not sure he would look frightening?
i also just watched obsession and aaahhh, i loved it i won't spoil but i can’t stop thinking about the more psychological kind of horror in entity naim (as opposed to how entity ryan might be more violent. entity ryan still tries to manipulate naim ofc, like he did by the screen door, but i feel like entity naim would do it even more).
i think the idea that the entities are not perfect copies of the people they mimic, but reflections of how the victim sees them, is interesting. they project your own perception of the person you desire back at you. the more you know someone, the better that becomes, the entity would have more memories and expectations to work with
so entity naim would behave like ryan believes naim behaves, mixed with the version of naim that ryan wants. if ryan sees him as guarded, vulnerable, difficult to read, and in need of love and care, then the entity would exaggerate all of that...
a one shot take on if ryanaim advanced at the mill.
can also be read on ao3.
Naim reaches to grab for another hefty rock— deciding on one that holds a medium weight amongst the multiple that litter across the ground of the abandoned mill. He tests it's weight in his hand with a small juggle before raising and hurling it just above the head of the blonde that stood facing away from him— Ryan busy studying the decay of the deteriorating building.
A loud pang echoed throughout the hollow building as the rock strikes a dried paint bucket that sat on a wobbling shelf— it's poor condition saying it could topple over at any moment.
The sudden crash makes Ryan circle his body around, eyeballing Naim— a fabricated confidence stretched on the brunettes face.
Ryan's own smile expands at Naim's challenge and he tuts— scanning the gravel floor for something heavier.
"C'mon." He scoffs, "Can do better than that." He takes hold of a boulder that is just a smidge larger than the one Naim had hurled his way. Turning from Naim and throwing it at the same shelf Naim had put a dent in.
The strike immediately fractures the weakened legs of the chipped wood— it breaks in an instant, it's splintered pieces strew at the ground beneath it. Sand and dust venting from it at the disturbance and blanket the already stale air of the building.
The wave of particles cause Ryan and Naim to cough simultaneously— waving their hands at their faces.
"Dumbass." Nevertheless Naim is laughing as he insults Ryan who steps closer in his direction to evade the mess he'd made.
"Fuck off." Ryan gives a small nudge to Naim's shoulder, "You couldn't pick up that one if you tried." He mocked.
Naim felt a need to prove himself— he wasn't sure why but regardless his feet were already moving around the space to find a greater object. His search lands on a bulky metal pipe that looks like it hadn't moved in years— rusted at the edges.
He smirks to himself at the find before bending his knees to lift the pipe— it doesn't budge. It's his positioning, surely. He adjusts into a squat before trying once more. A grunt leaves his mouth at the weight.
Nothing.
A snarky laugh is heard over his shoulder from Ryan and a shuffle of debris as he makes his way to a struggling Naim.
"The fuck makes you think you could pick that up?" He snarks, yanking at Naim's bent shoulder— pushing him away from the challenge.
His confidence on full display when he takes Naim's spot and slides his hands up under the heavy metal. He ignores his first attempt at the unmoving pipe before insisting again.
That thing isn't going anywhere.
Ryan's failed approach was met with muffled derision from Naim. Returning the same snicker Ryan had given him. Ryan felt his pale cheeks redden at the sound— taming his flustered expression before turning back around to an amused Naim.
He had to get his get back— not that Naim had particularly done anything— he just liked fucking with him. He liked the way Naim so easily faltered— like a deer in headlights. The smallest of sounds activating a flinch from him. Always on edge— something Ryan undeniably recognized. He'd almost been that way before.
He didn't let it get the best of him.
He widens his dark blue eyes at Naim in false panic— mustering up a bullshit jest— "On your shoulder." Purposefully shaking his hand as he points to Naim who quickly freezes from Ryan's words.
"Funnel spider." He's so full of it as he swallows back the laugh itching at the back of his throat.
He slowly walks to Naim who hadn't moved a muscle— his big doe eyes are glossy and scared— something Ryan had thought was their normal state at this rate. He couldn't admit that he liked the view, pushing the thoughts aside.
"Don't move." Naim couldn't be stiller.
No longer being able hold back the shit-eating grin spreading on his face— he raises his hand to tap a single solid flick on Naim's tightened cheek.
The surge of want mixed with teasing resulting in Ryan reaching out his hands to push them firmly against Naim's slim build and causing an already uneasy Naim to stumble back on his feet— Ryan walking away from what he really wanted.
"Fuck you. Cunt." The words are bitter when Naim spits them at Ryan's turned back— the blonde stopping in his tracks at the venom. He turns on his heels just in time to see Naim stomping toward him— his hands raising just as Ryan's had and pushing at his chest with an even harder shove.
He briefly falters on his feet.
A stern line settles between Ryan's pale eyebrows as he scrunches his face, "The fuck was that?" His laugh is a fabrication.
He hadn't expected it from Naim. He didn't think Naim had it in him— a curious part of him wanted to see it. To be the first. He challenges,
"Do it one more time."
Do it. Punish me.
Touch me.
His silent request was met with another rougher shove from Naim, his expression a jumble of irritation and restraint.
Ryan flails to catch Naim's hands in his own as the boy begins to throw a combination of pushes and punches at Ryan's clothed, bruised chest.
He didn't think it'd extend to this.
But he had wants— and if this was how he got it at least he'd get it.
When the wildness can't be tamed he swiftly wraps an elbow around the neck of a rowdy Naim— rolling them to the floor when his feet become unsteady.
He's got more fight in him than Ryan had thought and he found himself in a conflict of wanting to both ignite and extinguish the flame.
The batter of punches from Naim's weak fist into Ryan's ribs as their bodies toss and turn on the sandy gravel makes Ryan choose with the latter.
The want to engulf Naim stronger than the thrill of setting him aflame.
"The fuck are you doing!?" He shouts into the face of the boy below him when he finally collects his winding body.
There's a dull ache in his right side from the tussling they had done as he presses Naim's balled fists into the hard concrete with ease. A few failed lifts from Naim's wrists as he tries to fight back the blonde straddling him before ultimately giving up.
Ryan's eyes scan Naim's furrowed expression— feeling his own face in a knot as he looks up and down a breathless Naim.
"Anything you're not afraid of? Huh?" His words bark out harsher than intended, almost as if talking to himself.
In a way— he was.
The ache in his side churning into something else— something less physical.
He ignored the invasive thought.
Naim's eyes stay connected with Ryan's for a moment before they sway into a softness— a slight glimmer at the edges when he looks to Ryan's wrist clasped on his own.
Ryan felt his demeanor crumble along with it.
There was no stopping this.
He loosens the restraint on Naim and on himself as his head drops down and presses a firm and quick kiss to the shut lips below him— not having the chance to linger before the boy below him yanks his head outward in rejection.
Ryan's core stiffens before shying away his position, his hands leaving their place on the ground next to Naim's head— fully accepting Naim's retreat.
He had been greedy and acted on pure desire— the boy below him a test and he had failed.
Before the punishing thoughts could creep in any further he felt a pair of clammy palms land behind his ears— fingers rippling between his loose curls.
A slight tug to his head and his lips are invited to the ones they had just tainted. This time jointly— a low moan from Naim falls into Ryan's mouth at the contact.
And it's all Ryan needed to further flood the boy below him with a deepened kiss— his hands returning to their spot at Naim's neck before guiding him into his hold— elevating them from the hard ground.
He leans to his side before catching his weight with his forearm, his other hand lay connected to the back of Naim's neck with a pull of beckoning for Naim's touch.
Naim's body follows in his direction like a current— their bodies smoothly reconnecting as their hands travel along each other in exploration— any hesitance faraway as they reignite their lips with slow kisses— adrenaline faded as they relish in each other, an uncontained noise falling from Naim's mouth once again— Ryan swallows it.
Naim disconnects the lock of their swollen lips to look down at the pressure in his pants— a firm bulge pressing at the fabric.
He swallows before looking back to Ryan— not wanting to bring attention to it.
Too late. Ryan's ajar lips morph into a precious and small smile as he takes in Naim's state— adoration heats across his face.
The broken window at the far right of the building beams a line of sunlight into the building, shining directly on the back of Ryan, gracing his curls like a halo.
The view sent a vast shiver through his already sensitive shape— Ryan before him the direct cause.
Nothing is said as Ryan moves his hand from Naim's shoulder and to the begging protrusion in Naim's pants— cupping his hand over the fabric and squeezing the shape of him.
Naim's breath catches in his throat at the weight of Ryan's hand— his eyes fluttering shut at the feeling.
Even with his eyes closed he can see the silhouette of Ryan next to him as he moves to lay between Naim's parted legs— slotting himself between them— his hand grinding slow motions into Naim's hardness.
He senses Ryan hover just above him as the warmth of his breath hits Naim's dried lips, "Breathe." He can feel the smile in Ryan's words even when he can't see it.
He wants to see it. He opens his eyes.
He exhales the breath he had been holding when their eyes lock— a tremble on his lips as the face of Ryan heightens his already prominent arousal.
Ryan greets him with a lift of his eyebrows, his bottom lip pulled between his teeth in a bitten smile.
Naim groans at Ryan's glistening lips and all he wants to do is lick them into his own, so he does.
He closes the small space between them and kisses Ryan with his open mouth, lapping at his lower lip with his tongue— wanting to taste him.
The wetness can be heard in the space around them and Ryan groans into the sensation— increasing his pressure on Naim's clothed erection— moving his hand up and down the shape in his pants.
Naim's moans echo when their lips part for air, a string of spit connecting them before it breaks, the now constant pull and tug of Ryan's assured hand against the erection in his pants stirring up a heat in his stomach, it's vast and staggering and Naim's body begins to stutter at the sensation.
"Ryan—" He warns, Ryan's stare engraved on Naim's face— taking in the intoxication of the boy beneath him.
He feels Naim pulse in his palm— his throb surpassing the blocking fabric.
"I know."
Another babble of moans hit Ryan's lips and he continues to hover and watch,
He wants to watch.
"Come, Naim," His words are rewarded with an almost violent thrust of Naim's hips into Ryan's hand.
Naim's hands that gripped at Ryan's shoulders yank the blonde down onto him and bury his head into the crook of Ryan's neck with a climax— muffling a final moan into the pulse of his neck.
For a long moment the only sound heard was their breathy gasps in the air that is turning frigid— the sun beginning to set.
When they settle Ryan lifts his head from it's spot pressed to the side of Naim's head— peeling Naim's tacky cheek from his shoulder.
Ryan's face drifts and stops just above Naim's— tired lips a whisper apart— Naim's arms limply held at Ryan's waist.
Naim sees the passion evident in Ryan's eyes and takes it as an indication— sliding his hand at Ryan's waist to the front of his jeans— pressing his flat palm against him.
A low grunt slips passed Ryan's lips at the contact, lifting himself from Naim's reach,
"Don't."
Naim blankly stares as Ryan rises to his knees that rest between Naim's still spread legs— the new position giving him a fuller view of the striking Ryan Whelan.
And it becomes clearer now.
The faintest wetness can be seen seeping through Ryan's blue jeans.
Ryan's catches Naim's words before they can even leave his lips— clear amusement appearing on the brunettes face.
"Fuck off."
Naim erupts into a laugh. A feel good and contagious laugh.
Ryan comes to a full stance with a shake of his head— ignoring the slide of mess in his jeans— his lips lowering at the edges as he bites back a smile.
"Not going to be so funny riding a bike back like this. Dickhead."
Naim's laughter fades gradually as he thinks about Ryan's words— the stickiness in his own pants laughing now.
What yall doing if I drop a Leviticus fanfic?! I'm lowk working on one right know, mwhehhehe... I shall not drop spoilers as I know so many people have yet to watch the movie, but I am very excited to be writing again!!!
