The Impaler {Billy Loomis x Female!Reader x Stu Macher}
Wordcount: 7487 (Oopsies)
Summary: Billy gets jealous of the fact that you have to work with Stu on a project. He makes sure it’s a real hands-on sort of experience.
Notes: Contains: choking, blowjobs, rough blowjobs, bondage, m/f penetration, facial, threesome, degrading talk, insults, swearing, dominating behavior.
You could hear him at your window. Music was playing from your speaker softly, not loud enough to interrupt your concentration, and not loud enough to hear the jiggling of the lock. You looked over your shoulder to see a knife coming through the bottom, trying to get at the lock. You probably should have been frightened. There was a murderer loose in Woodsboro. That could be him now, trying to get into your room. Any moment now you were expecting to see the stupid mask that he apparently wore, rising into view. But you weren’t scared. In fact, you were just feeling exasperated, and tired. It had been a long day and you weren’t in the mood for any visitors. You rolled your eyes and went back to your book, hoping that he would give up, that he wouldn’t get past the lock that you put down when you got home because of this bad mood. But that stubbornness was strong. It’s what you had found so appealing about him in the first place. That and the bad boy look, the way that his hair always hung in his eyes like he was Johnny Depp in Cry Baby. Billy Loomis managed to get the lock, push it off to the side and push your window up. First one jean clad leg and then the other, the rest of his body ducking low to avoid getting hit as he swung into your bedroom.
“What the fuck,” Billy said, as you didn’t turn around, your eyes perusing the page. You didn’t give him the satisfaction of looking at him. At taking in those dark eyes, the jacket that you knew that he was wearing despite the warmth outside. You knew that you’d fall again and your books here wouldn’t have a single chance of competition. Read, read, read. “Y/n. Look at me.”
You really tried. But he had taken the steps to be right behind you. To take your chin in his hand and force your head to look in his direction. Eye contact, you were a sucker for it, and you knew that you were done for. His own eyes were filled with flames. He was angry, and that was never a good thing for a Loomis. How many nights have you held him while he ranted about his father. While he let himself be vulnerable in front of you, something that he never did in front of anyone. Not even in front of his so called girlfriend. Sydney Prescott. She knew about the abuse, there was no hiding it, but he kept her still at arm’s length.
“It’s been a long day, Billy,” You sighed, your shoulders slumping. “I’ll listen to you if you need to talk but if you’re looking for something more from me tonight, I’m sorry. Not in the mood, and too tired.” And what was that something more that he might have been looking for? You. Your body, your lips, whatever he needed, you usually gave. Even with him having a girlfriend. And even with - well, Randy. You weren’t dating the film nerd but people always assumed that you were. You thought that even thought that there was something going on between you two when you just felt nothing. It was cruel to let him continue thinking that there was something there, that’s true, but you just couldn’t hurt him like that. You just prayed that another girl would come along and take his fancy, then you’d be off scott free.
“Oh, it’s been a long day for you?” Billy asked. “Oh, okay, I’m so sorry. It’s not like I’ve been looking around all over the fucking city for you when your mom told me you didn’t come home after school.”
Shit. Right. You had forgotten to tell her that you would be running late - of course she would be dramatic with Billy when he called. She had given you a hard time when you finally got back, and you tuned her out, learning how to do that when you were a kid. If she mentioned Billy calling at all, it was in one ear and out the other.
“I’m sorry,” You said, not being able to avert your eyes. “Harrison gave us a big project and I met up with my partner at the library to talk about it. Well, I talked about it mostly, he just sort of-”
“Who?” Billy asked, his eyes narrowing. “You said he.”
For someone with a girlfriend, he really could be a jealous asshole sometimes. That was part of his charm. Randy completely thought that Billy hated him because of the rumors that went around. Whenever you sat close to him to avoid feeling like a fifth wheel beside Tatum, Stu, Sydney and Billy, there were glares coming from his direction. It made you feel special, despite the fact that he didn’t have ground to stand on.
“Stu,” You said, slowly, trying to avert your eyes as his own started to flare up. His eyebrows shooting high.
“Like Stu?” He asked, as if he wasn’t quite sure that he heard you. “Our Stu. My Stu. Macher?”
“I don’t know of any others,” You said, but quickly put out your hand to touch his arm. “It’s okay though, right? Like you said, it’s Stu. Our Stu, your Stu, Macher,” You repeated his words. “It’s just a history report about some historical figure. We figured out that it was going to be Vlad Dracul - his idea because he loves those shitty Dracula movies, and that I’d do most of the work and let him sign off on it. Get him an easy grade. If I let him do anymore than his name, I know I’ll lower my grade to a D for sure. Can’t have that in Harrison’s class.”
You were talking too much, you knew that by the way that he wasn’t looking reassured at all. You had hoped that he would. It was Stu after all, his best friend. There should be nothing to be jealous about there, right? But apparently not.
“Right,” He said, nodding, letting go of your face and backed towards the window. He purposefully made himself farther away, it was clear to see. “So you didn’t tell me that you were going to be with Stu tonight. Or your mom. And he didn’t mention it either. How fucking convenient.”
“Really, Billy? Are you going to make accusations about Stu and I?” You scoffed. “You can be ridiculous sometimes but that’s a big fat no.”
“I just find it ... funny,” Billy said, though his face didn’t show any sort of amusement. “Right, well, I’ll leave you to your super important project that you’re doing with Stu,” He growled out the name of his best friend. “Since that’s clearly what matters most to you. Maybe I’ll go see what Sydney’s doing. Crawl up her window. At least she appreciates it when I do it.”
“Fine,” You said, crossing your arms, trying not to give in though he knew. He had to have known. That’s where your weak point was. Sydney. That every time he mentioned her name or their relationship, it was a stab in your heart. “You can even tell her that I say hello, if you want. Though I don’t think you will. You’re still keeping us a secret and all that,” You shot right back.
“That’s how it is?” He asked, sticking one leg out and straddled the windowsill. “Fuck, how many times do I have to tell you? She’s still upset over her mom, I can’t just be that asshole.”
“And I didn’t pick my partner for this assignment, and I’m not just going to let Stu down. I can’t be that asshole,” You said, turning his own words against him. He scoffed at you. He actually scoffed, and then let himself out through your window, climbing down the trellis. He even left it open which he knew annoyed the shit out of you. You had to get up, head over, and slam it down, turning the lock again, though clearly it did little good. You thought for a moment and then wedged a piece of wood over top of it so it couldn’t slide open more than a couple of inches, even if it was unlocked. That would have to do.
-
Your classmates filtered out of the room slowly, but you stayed behind with Stu for a moment. The guy had almost gotten himself suspended today because of that smartass mouth and that goofy smile. The class clown, that’s what he tended to be. “If you want a decent grade, Stu, you’ve got to at least act like you’re doing some of the work,” You sighed, getting up from your desk and picked up your books along with you. “Harrison will figure that you picked the topic but come on, that’ll only get you like ten marks. Don’t you want to graduate?”
Stu laughed in his usual way. He was a lot more of a casual guy than Billy was. He put his arm around your shoulders, his lanky frame being at least a head above you. He usually just put his elbow on top of your head and leaned on it so this was a rather nice difference. “Just don’t do my parts too well. Throw in some spelling mistakes. Maybe a dirty joke, that’ll make it seem like it’s really me. I’m fuckin’ counting on you. Do me proud!”
You both walked out of the classroom like that. Just chatting. Just laughing. He was giving you some jokes that you should put in about all of the impaling. And you knew that you would have to if you wanted it to be realistic. You were laughing at one particular one when a bad feeling came over you. The feeling of being watched. Everyone was on edge with the Ghostface killer being around but this felt different, familiar, more dangerous.
Billy. He was standing at the end of the hallway. His eyes were piercing into yours, staring at you. Staring at the way that Stu had his arm around you. You quickly brushed that arm off, which caught Stu’s attention. He looked at you, and then down the hall. “Shit,” He sighed.
“Wait, you know?” You asked, furrowing your brows.
“About you and Loomis? Course I know. He tells me everythinnngggg...” And then he looked you up and down with his creepy Stu Macher smile as if to emphasize his point. You groaned and pushed him away from you with all of your might, causing that thin form to go flying towards the lockers.
“You’re making it worse,” You hissed, and looked back down the hall to see if Billy was still there. He wasn’t. And that didn’t bring you any relief.
--
You walked down the stairs in the front of the school, reading over your notes again. You just had a big quiz in your final class and you were mentally checking off what you had put down. It was seeming like it went well. You might have gotten one or two things confused but - you’d still get a good grade. You’d been worried about Billy throughout most of the day. Wondering what he was going to pull because there was always going to be something. Maybe he would do that thing where he’d be super affectionate with Sydney in front of you, knowing how much that affected you.
But to your surprise, you heard a honk. Billy Loomis’s car was idling by the front steps. students walking past it to get to their bus stop or walk home. It wasn’t that out of the ordinary for him to call to you. You were all in the same friend group. But he was waving you over, impatience already showing on his features. “Come on, y/n,” He said, his window rolling down. He looked like the epitome of bad boy right there. The slight snarl. The hair in his face. Those cheekbones that you loved running your tongue along. When you didn’t move fast enough, when you stared at him curiously, he pressed down on the horn, letting out a loud, annoying blast.
“Okay, okay, I’m coming,” You said, scurrying forward, holding onto the strap of your bag. You curled in to get in the passenger seat, setting your bag down by your feet.
“Where are we going?” You asked as he started to drive. It wasn’t the direction of your house. It wasn’t the direction of his place either. He was taking you to the nicer side of town. “Billy?”
“Taking you to Stu’s,” He said, his voice steady, his eyes on the road. His jaw seemed clenched. “Taking you to work on that important project of yours. That’s what you would have been doing anyway, wasn’t it?”
“Well, not today, probably sometime on the weekend...” You said, looking out the window. “I don’t have the materials to work on Dracul today.”
“That’s not the project that I’m talking about,” Billy said.
“Then what is?” You questioned. He didn’t answer, just adding to your budding frustration. He turned the radio up. Some rock station. It must be broadcasting from another town with a really strong signal since every other station was talking about the murders. Scaring people into a frenzy. It was the last thing on your mind right then, since it was apparent that there were other dangers to face.
Stu’s house came upon you sooner than you hoped that it would. The tall boy was waiting by the door, wearing that ugly robe of his, a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. Billy got out of the car first, came around, opened your door, and all but tugged you out. “Billy-”
“Fuck’s going on, man?” Stu asked. Though he hardly seemed concerned. Was that even a word that he knew? He kept on having that stupid smile on his face. The one that never left. It was a bit eerie now that you thought about it. How could Tatum stand it for long periods of time?
“It’s time to work on your project,” Billy said, smiling in return. He kept one hand on your back, pushing you, making you roughly pass by Stu and into the house. “That’s what you both wanted. And I’m here to help.”
“That’s cool dude, yeah,” Stu said, being agreeable as always. If he sensed something off about Billy, he was seeming to embrace it rather than be scared of it. You were so hesitant, you tried not to move, tried to drag your feet, but Billy just would not let you. You were pushed on up the stairs. Stu even helped. He grabbed hold of your arms and hoisted you up over his shoulder. “I got some movies from the video store! Horror movie research!”
“That’s not what I was talking about,” Billy said, following Stu in. You were hitting the lanky man’s back but it was making no difference at all. You watched as Billy closed the door. Turned the lock. That made you gulp. Stu turned around so you were now facing the staircase rather than Billy. Once more, you felt more afraid of not seeing him than actually being able to watch what he was doing.
“Fuck man, I don’t wanna read the book,” Stu whined. “The movies are so much better.”
“Take her up to your room,” Billy said. Stu hesitated, just like you had, but he did eventually turn around and start the walk. You could feel the bounce of every step. And you could look into Billy’s dark eyes again. He looked calm, unsettlingly calm.
“Billy?” You asked again. It came out as more of a plea for answers than anything, but he just shook his head. The bad feeling was growing more and more in the pit of your stomach.
Stu opened a door and took you inside. You had been in this house for parties before but never in his bedroom. You didn’t have much of a chance to look around before you were dropped down on the bed with a bounce. You tried to get up but immediately, Billy was on top of you, his knee against your stomach, fighting against your hands. “Billy - stop - for fuck’s sake -”
Stu just laughed, seemingly finding your fighting to be funny. Billy didn’t though. Billy looked over his shoulder at him annoyed. “You’re the one that wanted this,” He said, turning back to glare at you. “So don’t act like you don’t.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” You insisted.
“Got those ropes still?” Billy asked Stu, who nodded. You weren’t going to be getting any help from your history partner, that was becoming really obvious. Stu actually moved forward to help. Billy held you down while Stu slipped them around your wrists, the other ends tied around the bed-frame. You didn’t even really have time to wonder how kinky Tatum was before you found yourself strapped up. Billy finally stepped off of you.
“Okay, okay, you got me,” You said with a nervous laugh. “You’re scaring me. That’s what you wanted right? I’m scared. I’ll never blow you off again. I’ll ask Harrison if I can switch partners. I’ll find a way to make it happen. Be with - a girl or something so you never have to get nervous. No, wait, I’ll do it myself. Just please, Billy, let me go.”
“Awww, you’re gonna leave me high and dry like that?” Stu asked, squatting down on the ground to be at eye level with you. He still had that obnoxious grin. “I’d never pass it on my own.”
“B-but,” You blubbered. Billy tightened up the wrist straps, then kicked over Stu who whined on the ground like a child. He took Stu’s place, looking into your eyes. There wasn’t even the slightest bit of affection in his.
“You’re going to be a good girl,” He said. “You’re going to go through with your project right here and right now, in front of me, instead of sneaking around behind my back. But after this, you’re going to remember that you’re mine. Or - I can let you go right now and you’ll never see my face again.”
That didn’t feel like a threat exactly. It felt like a break up. And even though you were scared, there was nothing more horrifying than the thought of him leaving you. Of going and actually being happy with Sidney. Going and living the white picket fence life with her when you would do ANYTHING for him, anything at all. You nodded. Against your better judgement. While restrained. With tears coming into your eyes.
The lights turned off. It made you yelp, surprising you. Then the flicker of a lighter and candles started to be lit. Stu was being a happy participant, even if he didn’t know what was really going on. The room was lit up by the light glow of the candles, creating a weird ambiance. This felt like something out of The Craft. If Billy practiced witchcraft, that was something new to you. But then again, this was Woodsboro. There was a murderer on the loose, anything could happen.
But you still had absolutely no idea what this had to do with Dracula.
“What do you want me to do?” You asked, trying to keep the sob out of your voice.
“You wanted to learn more about an impaler. That’s what you’re going to do,” Billy said, sounding as emotionally constipated as ever.
An Impaler. The impaler. You breathed in sharply through your nose and started to tug at your restraints a little more. Look for the stake. They were going to kill you, oh fuck, they were going to - Billy whispered something over to Stu, who looked at him with surprise, that grin slipping for a moment before it came back tenfold. He nodded, and - started to take off clothes. First came off that stupid robe and then his pants. His boxers slid down with them and he stepped in close to you. His cock was exactly like him. It bobbed in front of your face, causing you to draw back as much as your restraints would allow.
Impale.
He was going to get Stu to fuck you.
Oh shit. This was hardly how you expected things to go and yet - you were relieved. It wasn’t as bad aas you thought that it was going to be, even if it was a complete shock. You looked up at Stu who had that maniacal grin still on his face, then over to Billy who looked entirely serious. The contrast between them always stood out to you, but not as startlingly so until now. You slowly nodded. You didn’t want him to leave you. You loved him, even with his jealous ways. Even if some of your friends would call such a relationship toxic. Even with Sidney in the way.
That was all that the two boys needed.
Billy wrapped his hand around your throat, his thumb rubbing circles against your esophagus. It wasn’t the most pleasant feeling. He squeezed it, until you were struggling for air, all the while, Stu’s cock bounced up and down on top of your lips. It felt like he was teasing himself, or - being reluctant with Billy there. You started to see black spots appear around the corners of your vision, and finally attempted to turn your head out of Billy’s grip but with your arms and legs being restrained, it was impossible. He loosened a little, letting you breathe, and then tightened back up. It went on like this for another moment or so - tightening and then loosening, until you could feel your pulse inside of your own brain.
And then it was Stu’s turn. They were looking at each other with smirks as they took turns turning your lights off, so to speak. You were starting to wonder if they really were going to kill you. It was Billy’s hand again on you, while Stu started to pull your shirt up, exposing your stomach. His hands roamed over it. And then he departed for a second, only to come back with a pair of scissors. Your eyes went wide as he started to cut up your shirt. You wanted to protest but given the fact that you weren’t getting enough air to breathe, you didn’t have a choice but to accept it. A slap on your left breast, and then your right, as Stu was having fun with what he was seeing. “I can see why you’re always sneaking behind Sydney’s back,” He laughed, tweaking your nipple. “She’s got great tits.”
“Careful,” Billy warned, loosening his grip. “She’s still mine.”
It brought goosebumps on your exposed flesh to hear those words. And the way that he was talking. That they were both talking. Like you weren’t even there, or couldn’t listen. They weren’t talking to you, they were talking about you. Around you.
“I - I -” You tried to say, but then Stu interrupted whatever you were trying to attempt.
“Is your hand not big enough for her throat? I can still hear her man.”
“Shut her up with something else then,” Billy shrugged, letting go, making you cough as air tried to fill your lungs. You were blinking slowly, trying to get the dancing spots out of your vision. They were everywhere, like black dust. You didn’t have much time for relief though. Billy’s words had hardly gotten into your head, not with your brain feeling like it was thumping as a warning to get more oxygen. They turned you over, causing the restraints to twist and tighten, so painfully apparent. And then something long was shoved into your mouth, depriving you again.
You blinked, and felt some little hairs against your face. It was Stu then. Billy kept himself groomed. Your lips wrapped willingly around the shaft just to make it easier on yourself. The musty scent of a man filling your nostrils. The taste. The only man you had blown before was Billy and his taste was different. The whole thing was different. Stu was longer, reaching deeper into the back of your throat, fucking with your gag reflexes. You were choking on him. And it had an upward curve to it, like a banana. It made even coming close to swallowing it all down near impossible. Billy, on the other hand - well, you didn’t have a moment to think about Billy when Stu started to move his hips. A hand took hold of your hair, pulling it all behind you, keeping it out of your face while also gaining control of your motions. Pushing your head more and more until your nose was squished against a pelvis. “That’s it - give it to her,” Billy grunted. “Come on, take this shit.”
He let go of you and this time it was Stu’s hands that locked around your hair. For just a second, the dick fell out of your mouth, and for a reason that you could not explain to yourself, you hungrily went looking for it. “Christ,” Stu cursed, and put you back into his mouth. Your throat was making obscene noises as you took him down. Gagging. Air trying to come up. Saliva filling your mouth and coating him. “That’s good shit.”
“Yeah, man,” Billy said, sitting down at the end of the bed. “Fuck her throat. That’s what she’s been wanting after all.”
“You really think so?”
“Look how she’s gargling it down, I’d say so. Try to arch your back there, y/n, really make it sexy.”
You were laying on your stomach, barely able to raise your head. Stu was having to crouch low to fuck your throat in that position. But you tried. You tried to arch your back. Tried to make yourself pretty for Billy, even while you had his best friend’s cock halfway down to your stomach. “Push that ass up,” He commanded. So you tried. You dug your knees into the mattress to try to raise your ass, your waist just barely rising up from the sheets. You were rewarded for that with a couple of really hard smacks. Even with your pants and underwear still on, it stung. It was only going to get worse, you could feel that. So you tried to enjoy what you could. Enjoy the taste. Sucking dick was a turn on, weirdly enough. It was often your foreplay with Billy.
You gasped with every stinging slap. Sometimes the noise came out when Stu had pulled himself out, but sometimes it came out more as a strangled cry when he thrust back in. Then he took hold of your hair again. Pulling it. You thought it was going to come out, he had such a stronghold on it. Taking it since Stu kept neglecting it and then wrapped his hand around your throat again. He started to laugh. “Fuck man, I can feel your dick all the way down here.”
“Oh yeah? Let’s see if you can feel it in her stomach?” Stu laughed, sticking his tongue out and really pushed his pelvis forward.
“You think pretty highly of yourself,” Billy chuckled. You didn’t have a chance to get in on the joke. You could barely even hear them over you. Your ears were filled with blood as your throat was getting fucked over and over, thoroughly. This went on for another minute before Stu finally had enough of your mouth and pulled himself out. Your breath came out in a gasp, heavy and painful. Billy could be rough sometimes but it was nothing compared to what that was. Spit dribbled out of your mouth, down onto the bed, creating a large puddle. It was so thick, it didn’t sink in right away, just sat on the surface. And then you were turned around.
There was hardly a moment to feel relief at the restraints becoming untangled. Or even as Billy was undoing the ones on your ankles so you could move. You were still trying to get your breath back, get the tears out of your eyes. “You gonna be good?” Billy asked before he fully removed the restraint from your left ankle.
“Yes, sirs,” You nodded, finally being able to breathe through your nose, adjusting your jaw to try to get rid of the discomfort. Your pants were then cut off, the scissors gliding close to the seams up the sides, the metal against your skin. A fan was blowing around the room, and you just started feeling it now. Stu crawled over your body until he was between your legs and you saw how big he was, how crazy it was that that ... thing had fit down your throat as far as it did. Now it stood stark, reaching past his belly button, creating a shadow. He could be used as a sundial in a pinch.
“Go on,” Billy said, giving Stu further permission. “You were going to a report on impalement. So do a presentation.”
Your eyes shot wide open when that cock stabbed into you, filling you completely. No lubrication save for the leftover spit that had been dripping off of him. “Oh fuck, I think she liiiikkesss it,” Stu said, rotating his hips. Really playing with you. Your mouth gaped open once more, every thrust sending you reeling. And as much as you didn’t want to admit it, Stu was right - you were really enjoying it. You could feel him going in with less and less resistance from yourself. Your legs spread, he held your knees up with his palms, and kept on laughing and making crude comments until Billy finally had enough, reached over and slapped him upside of the head.
“Can’t say she’s not a team player. Play with your tits for us,” He commanded down at you. Your hands were freed, and you did what he asked you to do, pulling and grabbing at your nipples as your breasts swayed with each thrust. Any protests that you had came out as moans instead of groans. Especially when you settled into a nice groove between the thrusts, your own hips being pushed up and the sensitive feelings of your nipples being played with. He was really railing into you, but the thing about Stu is that he did a lot of teasing, not just with his mouth either. He pulled out and replaced himself with two fingers, pushing in and out quickly, a frantic pace but controlled. His thumb kept brushing against your clit, and then circling it until you felt that feeling start to overtake you.
“Oh shit dude, think she’s gonna?” Stu asked and Billy smirked, knowing your body well. Knowing your reactions. You were gaping like a fish out of water, the muscles in your thighs and inside of you contracting as that feeling, that pure white bliss, was coming in closer and closer. But then - a few seconds of emptiness. You whined as you felt it all come to an end. But then you were filled again. Stu sunk deeply into you and you moaned in relief.
What had started off as a confusing assault was turning into something so pleasurable. Your throat still hurt. Your fingers still played at your breasts, grabbing them, fingers sinking into flesh. You wanted their approval. You wanted Billy’s approval, no matter how cruel he could be.
Stu took hold of your hair, snatching it to pull your head up, bending you at the neck uncomfortably and plowing. “I’m - I’m -" You said, confirming what Stu was asking earlier. Your insides were clenching at him. Milking him. Trying to get ever last drop of pleasure out of the experience but Stu turned your head roughly and made you face Billy while he kept on thrusting.
“Don’t you dare,” Billy said, licking his lip. You groaned. “You’re such a slut, wanting to cum over Stu’s dick while I’m sitting right here. So fucking dirty.”
You really tried to keep it at bay, trying to listen to him. But it rushed over you anyway, that feeling that took your breath away. Stu kept hitting you juuuust right. His hand was back to circling your clit quickly, causing you to make quite a mess. Stu paused and then started to laugh. “She just fucking squirted man!”
“I see that,” Billy said, sneering at you. “Fucking knew she was just a whore.”
You never felt so dirty. So shamed. You wanted to hide, and wanted to cry and wanted to fight but you couldn’t. You were just a doll for them to maneuver, to use as they wished at this point. Stu pushed you off of him and then laid down on the bed, his legs in the mess that you had made. Billy was the one taking your hair this time, lifting you up and pushing you on top of his lanky friend. “Gonna make him do all the work? I didn’t know you were lazy too.”
You fell back on top of Stu, and though you felt defeated, though you felt disgraced, you moved so that you were straddling him and then lowered yourself down, putting him right back in. He had crazy stamina. You could have guessed by the way that he always had so much energy. You squatted right on top of that dick and lowered yourself down and then raised yourself up. He just felt so good. The way that his pelvis kept hitting right against your already battered and overly sensitive clit had you building up again. His hands went back around your throat, both of these men seemingly enjoying the feeling of it against their hands. You were bucking, your arms instinctively going behind your back, crossing there.
“Yeah, show him some respect. Good girl,” Billy said, sitting down right next to Stu’s body. Your eyes kept wandering over to him. To his handsome face, wondering how he was doing this, why he was doing this and even more - why you were seeming to enjoy it. You were bucking away, and Billy’s hand kept making contact with your ass, slapping it roughly. No doubt, you were going to have bruises when this was over with. But the sharp pains felt good in comparison to the pleasure that the second orgasm gave you, mixing together into a euphoric bliss that made you feel even dirtier than before. Stu wasn’t giving you a break. Nor, for that matter, was Billy, whose slaps became harder and harder, the sounds echoing through the room, mixing with your moans, mewls and whimpers. He took turns slapping both cheeks, and then squeezing, pinching. His own hand was rubbing down at his own cock, still hidden under the jeans that he was wearing.
Stu threw you off, surprising you. Your chest was heaving up and down as you looked at him, but even that moment of rest didn’t last long. He was all go-go-go. How could Tatum stand it - you were exhausted.
This time you were carried right off of the bed. Stu handled you like you were a ragdoll rather than a living being. No consideration as to what you might be feeling. While holding you, he raised his leg to kick some clothes off of a computer chair and got you situated on there. It was extremely uncomfortable but before you could complain, he was right back into you, pounding into you doggy style. Your one leg fell onto the ground to support you but your other knee was being driven right into the uncomfortable leather of the seat. You grasped at the armrest, needing something to hold onto.
You could hardly see. Your eyes were watery. Your forehead was so sweaty. You still had globules of drool from when your mouth was wrapped around Stu’s cock. You must have been an absolute mess. But apparently, still decent enough for Billy to get hard. He stood on the other side of you, right in your face. So tall. His hands worked at his belt, unbuckling it slowly. And then the button of his jeans, the zipper, pulling them down to his ankles, tugging his briefs with them. The motion of the thrusts from behind had you moving forward, almost headbutting his waist, forcing your face directly against the hard dick that you had gotten to know over the last couple of months.
“You hungry or what?” Billy asked. You nodded. You knew what was expected. And you had missed him. Being with Stu felt wrong without him being a part of it. Billy was the one that you loved and you were putting up with all of this to please him. To get called a good girl again. He pumped himself a couple of times with his hand as a tease, holding it just out of reach of your mouth. You tried to lunge forward to get it, to snatch it with your mouth but each and every time, he’d move it to the side. He laughed, like this was the most amusing game that he had ever played. “Look at her, look at her,” He said with a laugh.
“Come on man, you’re making her move away from me,” Stu whined.
“Shut the fuck up,” Billy shot back, reaching over your body and slapping him across the side of the head. “Just be lucky I’m letting her fuck you at all.”
“Yeah. You’re right. My bad,” Stu said, laughing like an idiot again. Did he ever stop smiling? You were watching all of this over your shoulder, neck bent at an uncomfortable angle. Billy took hold of your chin and moved your head right back to his pelvis.
“Go on,” He said, and so you did. You opened your mouth and welcomed him in. It was thicker, but all of the spit from earlier helped a lot. Your throat was already primed and lubricated for him. He groaned as he felt your cheeks hollow around him, as he pushed further to tease your gag reflex. “Deepthroat. Fucking work it. You wanted to get impaled. I’ll show you what it’s like to be impaled.”
“Fuckin’ spitroasted!” Stu said, giving Billy a high five over your back. You moaned, feeling so full on both ends. This was your first two on one experience. It was harder to concentrate on both than you thought it would be. To keep your tongue moving, to keep from gagging, all while being pushed back against Stu. You could swear he was reaching into your womb, he was going so hard, so deep.
“Why are you sucking like you think you have a fucking choice? Take it.” Billy scowled. You must have been lacking for a couple of seconds there so you tried to make up for it. Opened your mouth. Suppressed your gagging as much as you could. Felt his balls flinging against your chin.
“Ahh - yeah, yeah, almost there,” Stu said, his eyes rolling up into his head.
“Fuck, me too,” Billy admitted, though it had only been a couple of minutes for him. “She always forgets her birth control, don’t cum in her.”
“Shit, don’t be so fucking lazy,” Stu said, pulling out of you. Billy left your mouth and you fell onto the floor, your legs feeling like jelly. Your ass was so sore from all of the spanking, you flinched the moment that it touched the carpet on the ground. You leaned back against the seat of the chair, which wasn’t comfortable but at least it took a bit of the weight off.
Above you, both men stood. Both had their hands on their cocks. The first drops of warm liquid hit the left side of your face. “Open your fuckin mouth,” Billy said, jacking his cock in that direction. You did what you were told to do, sticking your tongue out, improvising what he might want. You had the right idea. Billy moaned at the sight and a glob of it fell right onto your tongue. “Yeah, keep it there. Taste it for me.”
Your eyes rolled over to Stu, just in time to get a load right below your eye. You managed to close it in time. You felt it dripping off of your cheek, down onto your shoulder. It was so damn warm. Or maybe your face was just burning up. After a couple more spurts over the bridge of your nose and then on your upper lip, it was finally over. Your humiliation. Your punishment. Your torment.
The boys were getting dressed again. Or rather, Stu was belting his robe up, not even bothering with pants or underwear. It was Billy that was getting dressed. They didn’t give you a towel or anything, just left you there on your knees, unable to see out of one eye. You wiped it with the back of your arm but that seemed to make it go everywhere. “Umm....” You stammered. “Is there anywhere I can clean myself up?”
“Bathroom down the hall,” Stu said, turning his computer chair around and sitting on it, doing a little spin. “Don’t get my mom’s towels dirty or she’ll have my fucking head.”
You nodded meekly. You tried not to drip, swallowing what was in your mouth and on your tongue, and cupping your hands under your chin to try to get the rest that would slide off. With unsteady legs, and without any help from either boy, you made your way to the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind you. The shame that you felt. The shame at the fact that you had enjoyed it. You didn’t even want to look at yourself in the mirror. You turned on the taps and used warm water to wash your face. There wasn’t any face wash in here so you used hand soap which dried out your skin but at least it made you feel clean.
You sat on the toilet for a couple of minutes. Tried to clean yourself up down there. Urinated to avoid a UTI. Flush, back to the sink, try to clean yourself with soap and water. You thought about taking a shower. But the idea of being so vulnerable in there and being naked for any moment longer was daunting. Besides, his parents might come home and you still had to make it back across the hall unclothed. When you did what you could, you took a breath and then dashed down the hallway, flinging open the door, and then closing it behind you. Stu snickered in your direction.
“Where are my clothes?” You asked, trying to sound more stable than you really were. It made the boys exchange looks at each other and laugh.
“Ripped up,” Billy said. “As part of your lesson. Did you learn it?”
“Well,” You said, covering your breasts with one arm and your other hand was between your legs, trying to hide that as well. “I know now to make sure that I’m never paired up with Randy for anything - ever.”
“Ew dude, can you imagine?” Stu said, followed by - guess what? - a laugh. “Gross.”
“That would have had a very different outcome,” Billy said, throwing his shirt at you, since your own had been completely ruined. It laid in tatters on the ground. Nothing more than rags. Stu had started rolling up a joint, licking the paper closed and then handed it to Billy who lit it and took a large mouthful of the stuff. He handled it well, keeping it in without choking, only to approach you and to blow it slowly in your face. “Don’t do anything that means you’ll be spending any time alone with another guy.”
“Because you’ll get jealous?” You asked, pulling the shirt on over your head. Billy wasn’t a large guy so it didn’t cover too much, but at least you did feel less exposed.
“Don’t even bring up that fucking word,” He shook his head. He handed the joint behind him back to Stu, not even offering you any. “Since you are here though, and I’m here to ... chaperone, you can work on your little project. As long as you behave.”
“Okay,” You said, fairly meekly after sensing the threat in there. When he sat back down upon the bed, he pulled you into his lap, the shirt drooping in front of you to protect whatever modesty you had left.
--
Needless to say, you didn’t get the best grade ever on that assignment. Actually, with the principal being killed and school letting out for a couple of days to recuperate, it didn’t even show up on your final report card. Still, though, Billy and Stu were very eager to celebrate the points that you did rack up, and you partook happily enough. Even if it meant that you couldn’t ever look Tatum or Sydney in the eye again.
He’d never possessed anything more than the rags he wore; but now he owned a name. Stum, given by the bittered one. The one who snarled like the dog, yet shared the scant rations with him.
Snap, his massive hands broke a thick branch, snap, one after another. It wasn’t the same as chopping logs, but close. Snap, snap, snap, his hands found a steady rhythm and soon his head followed. Slamming his temple against the bark-covered trunk of a tree, Stum tried to maintain control of his overladen senses, a task which became more hopeless by the minute, ever since The She disappeared.
For him, his surroundings were too much to comprehend now that he was all alone.
Stum missed the solidness of the four walls that had enclosed him most of his life, at least that small place felt right. Safe. In there, his world was ordered, simple, manageable.
In there, he could fiddle with strings of hay and secretly tear at the sacks filled with grain.
When the pain in his head triumphed over the fearful beating of his heart, Stum’s shoulders surrendered and he sighed deeply. Bringing his hand to his mouth, he sucked his thumb and slowly rocked back and forth.
Humming to himself, Stum found a sense of cohesion. Completely absorbed in his own little world, his ears failed to pick up on the stumbling gait of heavily intoxicated men.
.-.-.
Utstott became a bloodhound, with Stum being the white raven’s main target. Through the maze of tree branches, Ivar glanced upward to search for the familiar white dot high up in the sky. His useless bound legs swung behind him as his upper body did all the hard labor; dragging himself forward. His mobility had always been his weakness; but after weeks of being carried around his muscle mass has drastically deteriorated.
They searched until the midst of day; the moment of no shadow nor shelter from heat. Piglet gave up her cooing noises a while before that, brows almost entirely knitted together and her overall appearance sullen.
“Your legs need better protection,” Piglet stated as she handed over the water bag to Ivar, “if we don’t find Stum-”
“-I made you a promise, didn’t I?” Ivar cut her off abrupt, “we will find that humongous inbred of yours,” Ivar drank and grunted when Piglet’s spirit didn’t lift, “we’ll find Stum so he can carry my sorry ass all the way to Cicily, you’ll see,” he held his index finger up to her face, “wait and see, Piglet, wait and see.”
Ignoring the way her shoulders slumped, Ivar unbound his legs, tried to pull as much fabric in layers over his knees, and started to tie his legs back together. In the process of preparing his lower body for another hike, he blocked out Piglet’s energy. He was well aware of her distress and knew Stum’s absence wasn’t her only concern.
No, her inward conflict lay in her deeply rooted beliefs and morals. Her eyes perceived the world with a very different set of right and wrong; their views could not be further apart.
He knew that in a way, she hated him for adding so much gray to her black and white view. Well, crimson to put it bluntly.
Ivar sighed and shook his head while tying a knot in the worn strings wrapped around his legs. He still failed to comprehend Piglet’s strict rules and guidelines; what was wrong with an eye for an eye? Kill or be killed. Wasn’t it clear and common sense to hurt them before they could hurt you? If her claims about being cursed with a Djinn were true, why was her only strength that of convulsion?
Ivar could read her expression; she was being torn from within. She deemed his killings evil; yet they saved her life and virtue. And ever since he showed her what his hands were capable of, one simple question burned on the tip of his tongue: didn’t it make you feel good when I ripped off Ludolf’s jaw?
But that question would truly remain unanswered, because Ivar knew Piglet would wholeheartedly deny feeling any glimmer of joy from death and pain. That would cast her out of her presumed heaven; Jannah.
“Utstott will find him, Piglet, just wait and see,” Ivar promised her.
.-.-.
At the end of an old herd trail, Ivar felt a shard of melancholy; as the scene in the middle of the camp had so many similarities to the bloody bear of Kattegat. Yet, instead of rascalling youngsters throwing stones to the deranged bear, it was two heavily intoxicated men slinging coins at Stum.
The poor young man produced guttural sounds, trying to fend off the pesky pieces of silver with flapping hands. The simpleton desperately wanted to flee, but a noose around his neck secured his place within the circle. There was no escape, aside from tiptoeing baby steps from left to right.
One of the outlaws had taken a seat atop a large wooden barrow leaking ale. To him it was a hilarious spectacle and he had to hold his stomach from laughing.
Ivar could feel his lips twitch into a grin; somehow Stum was destined to be a piece of entertainment. In this case, a humongous dancer with a terrible sense of rhythm.
Ivar managed to morph his expression into something more neutral as his consciousness in the flesh let out a smothered gasp.
Of course; Piglet empathized with her precious pet. She felt resentment toward the ill treatment of Stum.
Naturally, this meant that Ivar was allowed to go ballistic on those ‘wrongdoers’. He could be her hero for slaughtering those villains; because the moment someone wronged a person she felt affectionate toward, it was alright to be the berserker. Right?
Piglet’s rules and rights were still a mystery; but as her mouth remained tightly locked, her eyes told him yes when he swung his axe over his shoulder. His callous fingers grasped the handle tight; skin still stained with the blood of the dead.
If the group of outlaws wouldn’t have been bellowing with laughter so hard then maybe one of them would have caught the sound of vibration whizzing through the air.
But it was the harsh sound of Ivar’s axe sinking into something solid that stilled the small circle of drunken men.
The man atop of the barrow stared with bulging eyes at the axe solidly lodged into his sternum. Instinctively he circled his palms around the weapon, but no matter how much pressure he applied, blood gushed between his fingers and oozed from under his hand. It spread rapidly into his shirt, the color darkingening, taking on a brownish hue.
Within a matter of seconds, the man dropped forward and let out one last guttural and strangely wet sound as blood spilled from the corners of his mouth and nose.
While Ivar’s first victim breathed out his last breath, all fun and games were paused. Intoxicated, yet highly alert men drew their weapons; either daggers or clubs.
For mere moments the forest seemed to hold its breath; all men bracing themselves and staring bewildered into the forest in search of the attacker.
Although anger was Ivar’s greatest ally, Ivar put his wit in command. It was five against one and he just threw his only weapon away.
Like a worm crawling from a bird Ivar roused into view, imitating Stum’s animalistic sounds he managed to make it halfway towards the circle without being stabbed or clubbed to death.
With a tiny moan Ivar swung his arms from under him and dropped face first into the sand.
Holding his breath until his lungs seemed to explode he waited; laying perfectly still and covered with caked mud and blood.
Once a pair of toes nudged his waist, Ivar’s eyes flashed wide open and like a hungry wolf, he threw himself up. He managed to evoke shock throughout the group; which made the already intoxicated men slow and clumsy.
Since he was unable to rise up to his opponent, he made sure the man was brought down to his level. Thrown off guard, it wasn’t hard to sweep the man off his feet.
It was the man’s own dagger that slit his throat. The blood didn’t gush in a constant flow, but in time with the beating of his heart. It came thick and strong, flowing through fingers that clasped desperately around the ripped flesh and muscle.
Ivar laughed at the sight, astounded how deep he’d managed to cut the man. The blade in his hand was small but sharpened into perfection. Without a second to waist Ivar threw the murder weapon over his shoulder and hollered: “Piglet, make yourself useful and cut Stum loose!”
Shifting back towards the upcoming fight till death, Ivar was just in time to duck and roll away from the edge of a sword. An icy swoosh merely passed his head.
He was up for a fistfight since he had once again thrown his only weapon away. He allowed his brain to go into instinct mode; that primitive flight or fight modus.
And he fled, rolling his body away from being stabbed to death by the end of a long blade. He didn’t manage to flee very far, as boots violently ended his escape.
All he needed was a little more time, and hoping his blunt attack had evoked enough dull rage he curled up into fetal position.
He guessed right, the enraged men did not want his life to end quickly. Not without causing a significant amount of pain first.
Fists and feet rained down upon him and all he could do was protect his head and vital organs by cradling his head and curling further into a ball.
Another icy swoosh struck through the air, but this one made Ivar sigh with relief.
A dull thump, from right next to him; shouts and cries filled the air and the beating stopped. Ivar reopened his eyes and saw a head roll into a puddle of mud.
Although Stum was too impaired to utter a single word, he did master the axe like no other. And seeing one of his saviors being downtrodden turned him into a bull seeing red.
There was no grace in Stum’s movements, but there was swift and uncontrolled force as the colossal hacked his axe into the hopeless outlaws.
Although it hurt to laugh, Ivar cackled in awe as detached limbs were stomped into the sandy herpath. Stum really did manage to make an art out of chopping up bodies.
It did not take Stum long to fill the campsite with death, blood and gore. It was a masterpiece of primitive violence.
It became quiet, aside from the sounds of Utstott pecking at intestine and Piglet’s retching. The gore induced wave after wave of sickness.
Ivar tsked as he pushed and pulled himself into a sitting position. Aside from sore muscles and impending bruises, he was going to live. He snorted, staring at the decapitated body next to him, he would live.
This counted as a good fight, he managed to kill two, unleash Stum, and set him off on a killing spree.
He figured this did not count as a victory for Piglet, as it weren’t dog guts caking the soles of her feet, but that of another human being.
“Spare me the tears woman,” Ivar sneered, cracking his neck and flexing his biceps, “those men would have raped you until there was nothing more left of you then a weeping, bleeding piece of dispare. We victored, they didn’t, you got what you wanted,” he made a big wave at Stum, “I got you your inbred back.”
‘That woman is insufferable,’ Ivar thought as he rolled his eyes, ignoring Piglet’s smothered hitches of breath. Of course she was going to cry over the piles of bloody waste, almost unrecognizable as humans.
.-.-.
A/N: Oh what a joy it was to write this chapter. It somehow was a very tough one to start. I haven’t written that many fighting scenes and I felt like it had to be a gory one.
I like how PIglet and Ivar both start to see the world with a little more gray (or red depending on pov). I like how hers puzzles Ivar, yet from time to time he tries to stand by her morals and rules.
Ah and Stum, I really like that I added him as an extra pov and element in the story. He’s sort of this silent neutral ally. A blank canvas to either ‘listen’ to the little devil (Ivar) or angel (Piglet) on his shoulders.
Imagine pleasuring Stu Macher with your chest and mouth.
smut below cut
Stu was in pure heaven tonight - who would have thought that a study session would turn into this? You were just supposed to be coming over to work on a biology group project that you were assigned to, and now you were on your knees, shirt off, bra proudly showing off your perky breasts. The best part was that his cock was between those tits. The band around the bottom was keeping his dick in place. He was looking down at you, tongue sticking out, taking in the entire image.
He was enthralled by your cute little bra. It wasn’t actually that little, your tits were big enough to crush his dick in between them, but it looked so innocent with the white and pastel stripes, and the bit of lace. And the look on your face, fuck, like you were begging for it. Stu had a way with the ladies, but he hadn’t expected this from you - never even really tried other than his usual flirty nature.
“Yeah, you want this, you want this?” He said, sliding down in his chair, feet planted on either side of you, thrusting up between those tits.
“Fuck yesss,” You hissed, and then stuck your tongue out, allll the way out. Drool was dripping off of the tip, landing on his. With a rougher thrust, he was able to make it all the way onto your wet appendage, which brought on a new host of sensations. To his even further surprise, you closed your mouth around it, sucking in the head, only to let it go and go back to lifting your body on and off of him. Your mouth remained open, causing him to hit it again and again - and fuck, this was good. He blew his load all over your chin, over your lips, and still you kept going, causing those ticklish, overwhelming feelings, making him jerk out and away.
“Shit, where’ve you been hiding, girl?” Stu asked, relaxing against the back of his chair. You used your fingers to clean his seed from your face, plopping it into your mouth. That was fucking hot. He was feeling aroused again.
“Maybe if you and Billy stopped eye-fucking each other in the hallways, you would have noticed me sooner.”
Ivar woke up from the cold. In a half awake state he realized he was all alone. The warm, smelling form of Piglet’s back against his was gone. The dappled moonlight created a scenery of dejection and impending misery.
Both of his human travel companions disappeared and Ivar concluded it wasn’t into thin air. Nor by a stroke of lightning.
No, both Piglet and Stum hared away, deserting the weakest link. The one who made the least contribution to the collective achievement of their little group.
A peculiar sense of peace came over Ivar, “I told you so,” he muttered to himself and snickered. It came like a cold, empty sound. Numb, as the far tips of his toes and fingers. Callous, as his soul, hardened by the overwhelming rejection he’d suffered throughout his life.
As a cripple he’d always end up alone, forsaken from love, friendship, and belonging. His useless legs made him invaluable to others, unimportant, and a burden.
“I told you so,” he whispered as he glanced up at the starry night sky. Of course, Piglet was entitled to leave him in the dark of night. She’d gained a stronger, faster ally. One she could easily control, one that she didn’t need to drag along. One, that would not get her killed.
“I told you so!” He snapped, now bitter and agitated- he couldn’t comprehend why he was struck by this consuming pang of grief, betrayal, and heartache. It was ridiculous, he’d always known that Piglet wasn’t a trustworthy companion. She used him the same way he used her; for survival.
So, why did her desertion hurt him so?
‘Because she didn’t say goodbye’, Ivar realized and brought his hand up to his face. Slowly it turned into a balled fist and, in the absence of a more proper alternative, he sank his front teeth into the skin of his knuckles.
He’d bled for her, more than once. And that bitch had the audacity to flee without one word spoken.
Ivar willed his rage to spark and ignite. But icy numbness remained in the pit of his stomach and slowly froze up all the way to his ribcage.
The pressure his teeth set on the skin of his knuckles became almost unbearable. But he’d gladly choose the pain he inflicted upon himself over the aching inside his chest.
The fluttering of wings made him blink through the tears forming in the corner of his eyes.
Utstott had taken position high atop a tree as he glanced down upon the piece of human misery whimpering on the moss covered soil.
The arrival of at least one ally should feel like a relief; yet Ivar glared at the bird sickened by envy. Utstott possessed wings, freedom, and a life without complicated human emotions.
“Leave me alone!” He shouted at the bird, “you are better off with that bitch and her new favorite pet, GO!” he threw his balled fist into the air and let out a deep shaky breath as Utstott spread his wings and took off, like a small white dot into the starry midnight sky.
“Go, all of you!” Ivar whispered his self fulfilling prophecy as he wrapped his good arm tightly against his chest. ‘Against the cold’ he told himself firmly, while deep down he was fully aware it was to compensate for the warmth of someone else’s tight embrace.
For a moment, he wished Piglet would have ordered Stum to decapitate him. Chop him in two pieces, like that scurvy dog. It would be a more worthy ending than dying of thirst and hunger, that was for sure.
Alone and cold Ivar sat through the night, with his one arm wrapped tightly around his empty chest.
.-.-.
Still half asleep, his ears picked up on the clumsy thud of a heavy gait, preceded by scurried tippy toes. Stiffly, Ivar tried to move himself into a sitting position. He managed to push himself upwards while leaning heavily on his left arm, craning his neck toward the sound of the footsteps.
His heart skipped a beat when his eyes took in the knotted, wind-tousled curls of Piglet, who reappeared as she dashed through a thick hedge of bush.
She clearly lost her balance there and nearly took a nosedive into a tangled mess of tree roots, but managed to break her fall by instinctively pushing out her arms.
Stum followed her like a lost pup and mimicked her motion, pressing himself down on all fours.
“By Allah…” Piglet mumbled, rubbing over her bruising knees and motioned Stum to get back up.
Ivar had watched the pair with his mouth wide open: “what are you doing here?!”
Piglet must have forgotten about how she’d abandoned him in the midst of night, or she was a damn trickster.
“What are you talking about?” She dared to ask him.
“You abandoned me!” Ivar exclaimed, amazed by her courage to come back and face him, “again!”
Piglet blinked her eyes, once, twice and a third time when she realized Ivar spoke from the heart.
“You think I left you behind?”
Oh, the guts to speak those words out loud and stand there with two innocent doe eyes. Ivar’s nostrils flared, agitated and ready to turn into a full blown rage, because apparently she needed him to say the words out loud.
“You left me! You replaced me for that creature and you didn’t even have the guts to kill me…” or say goodbye, but he swallowed those words hastily.
Piglet glanced from him to Stum, and back to Ivar before slowly raising her hands.
“Ivar, I went to pee last night and I got lost,” she pointed skywards, “Utstott found me and led me back here.”
“Oh, please Piglet!” Ivar waved angrily at her words, “then why tag Stum along?!”
“Believe me I did not want him to,” Piglet stated firmly, “but he keeps following me like my shadow,” she walked around a fallen tree and picked up a few of their humble belongings, “see, I didn’t take anything,” she held up the water bottle and with the ball of her foot she pressed the axe into view.
Piglet then managed to get down to his face, so close it made him feel uncomfortable. Her dark eyes wandered over his face until she stared him straight in the eyes.
“I wasn’t lying when I told you I couldn’t bare to be the reason for your death.”
His heart made a little leap and for a moment everything around him was too overwhelming and too much to process. Piglet’s return shook the foundation of his mindset; she simply came too close.
So, as a reaction he did the only logical thing he could think of. To be honest, he allowed his instinct to do all of the hard work and simply zoned out of the situation.
His good hand raked through her hazard of hair and with one harsh tug he pushed her. Letting go of her hair, he watched Piglet drop backwards with a loud yelp. She landed on her ass, legs swaying in the air momentarily before her feet pressed themselves into the ground and kicked forward.
Dirt and a few small pebbles hit him in the face which made him frantically rub his eyes and give Piglet time to get back on her feet and out of reach.
Leaning towards her, Ivar snarled: “do not ever think of betraying me!”
“Or what, you will scold me to death?!” Piglet spat and dusted off the palm of her hands, “or beat me, choke me, harass me, insult me?” She was seething now, voice skipping a few beats as she raged on, “men, all the same! Even you, Ivar-half-a-man,” she scolded, pointing directly at his crotch.
“-I am not a thing,” Piglet continued, “I am not yours, nor will I ever be! You may hate me, I do not care. But you will not treat me like you did in De Haar. You don’t have any leverage over me now, cripple. I am an equal, I am a future queen and right now I am the only reason you are still alive!”
Ivar hadn’t tried to interfere during her rant, it had been impossible to fit a word in between her seething sentences.
Ivar shrugged his good shoulder and muttered: “fair enough. I’ll teach you to navigate by stars,” he added after a pause, “so you can find your way back when you feel the urge to piss in the midst of night,” he explained when Piglet’s eyebrow rose so high it disappeared underneath the curls of her hair.
She slowly realised that this was as much of an apology she’d be able to peel from Ivar and settled with a hum.
.-.-.
“Piglet?
“Hmmm?”
“You reek.”
The two of them sat shoulder to shoulder against a tree while Stum threw berries at Utstott. Piglet’s eyes narrowed and she grunted something angrily in her mother’s tongue before Ivar rose up his good arm.
“We’ve recently established some sort of ground rules, I will try to treat you like an equal, so by the Gods, can you wash off the filth and stench coming from every inch of your body?”
Piglet shook her head bluntly, “no I will not, it keeps men at bay.”
Ivar rolled his eyes and gestured to his abdomen, “you know I can’t defile you and Stum’s more closely related to animals than men. You have nothing to fear.”
“I wasn’t referring to you nor Stum,” Piglet retorted, “I mean men in general. You are hurt and Stum… is-”
“-an absolute imbecile?” Ivar helpfully pointed out.
“Simple,” Piglet chose her word firm, “Stum is simple. I can’t rely on either of you two. And you can’t expect me to fend off a man who’s twice my weight and size.”
“Of course you can,” Ivar answered and extended his left hand towards her, “the human body is rather feeble and soft, if you know the right place,” his index finger pressed just underneath Piglet’s ribcage.
“Stab a man here, upwards. You will hit a lot of organs. Never stab a man here,” Ivar redrew his arm and touched his own chest, “it’s tempting, because this is where the heart lays,” he said while drawing a small circle, “but it’s protected by a cage of ribs. It’s hard to stab through bone, not impossible. But hard,” tracing down over his own chest he dapped his index and middle finger right underneath his lowest rib, “if you find yourself overpowered and on your back,
stab a man here, it most likely will be fatal. And if you’d like to make an example out of your harasser, cut off his prick and shove it up his arse.”
Piglet snorted, “you are a disgusting pig.”
Ivar arched a sly brow: “that makes two of us, but only one has the ability to attract flies,” sagging against the tree he tilted his head towards Piglet, “I’ll make you a deal, if I gift you a dagger, will you do something about your deteriorating personal hygiene?”
Piglet’s forehead puckered for a while before she thoughtfully answered: “if you can teach me how to protect myself I’ll rid myself of my current protection.”
“T’s a deal,” Ivar spoke solemnly, “first I’ll teach you to navigate by stars and when I’m healed I will teach you how to kill a man.”
“As long as you don’t teach me how to shove his prick up his arse.”
.-.-.
A/N: A main reason why I write in general is to dig into human emotions and thoughts. And I really enjoy getting into Ivar’s POV’s. I am happy how far this version of Ivar has evolved away from the Ivar season 5 and 6. To be honest, I disliked season 6 a lot. Many main characters became very dull and one dimensional, they made choices that made absolutely no senses to their previous actions. And this pre-season-five Ivar is just a joy to push away from the path of tyrant. His period as a slave inside de Haar changed his character and vision, he gained some forms of friendship and -as much as he’ll deny it- grew some sort of feelings for a Christian.
I think this chapter carries another important piece of his mental development, his fellow travelers did return. They had no reason -no personal gain as Ivar sees it- to do so. But they did -that’s more then Ragnar-worst-example-for-a-father can say-.
That’s enough writer’s rambling. Many things for reading and I’d love to hear your thoughts.
Adrift; so as to float without being either moored or steered.
Chapter 1) Tale of the land surrounded by a sea of sand
Chapter 2) Suicide Mission
Chapter 3) Sacrifice
Chapter 4) Adrift
Chapter 5) Black Sheep
Chapter 6) Creature
Chapter 7) Like a knife through butter
Chapter 8) Idiots and dreamers
Chapter 9) Valuable lessons
Chapter 10) From the ground he lingers
Chapter 11)Torn
Chapter 12) Lost protection
Chapter 13) Field of Daisies
Chapter 14) Fierce
Chapter 15) Down with dignity
Chapter 16) Opportune moment
Chapter 17) Neither north, neither east
Chapter 18) Setting fire
Chapter 19) Threshold
Chapter 20) Charge
Chapter 21) Little pieces
Chapter 22) Never will, never have
Chapter 23) Eyes of the storm
Chapter 24) Everything
Chapter 25) Peace offer
Chapter 26) A dreadful long night
Chapter 27) New directions
Chapter 28) Heartache by the fire
Chapter 29) Not the worst of men
Chapter 30) Setting traps
Chapter 31) Fickle game
Chapter 32) Lyon at last
Chapter 33) Tough girl whose soul aches
Chapter 34) Pushed too far
Chapter 35) The sight of Wrath
