Monthly story - male gargoyle x gender neutral reader (nsfw)
This is becoming absurd. 2-5k words is what I aim for with these monthly stories.
This one?
It's 17,677 words, and it's broken down into SIX chapters (internally - I'm sharing the whole thing in one go here). May's story felt long, then June's, now this one? I'm going to have to reel myself in for August or, should I say, Taurgust... :)
Anyway. Oof...!
Content: controlling/manipulating family member holds power over the reader and uses your skills as a thief to rob a powerful vampire's castle at very short notice. Turns out the amulet is better guarded than your uncle thought, and now you've got to explain yourself to a very grumpy, seven foot tall gargoyle. Tropes include: 'Big Grumpy won over by Smol(er) Sunshine', heist gone wrong, forced proximity/working together as punishment, 'the boss totally ships it', reader's life is in danger (not from the romantic lead), mated/fated bond, submissive monster towards reader.
Wordcount: 17,677
Extract:
“You want me to do what?” you blurted, staring your uncle down with a mix of astonishment and kindling unease.
The older man rolled his eyes and leaned back in his throne-like office chair, regarding you across his heavy, oak desk with a look of disdain and contempt.
His brother’s child you might be, but you were pretty worthless in his eyes. You had no magic, after all, and in a line of mages and witches and sorcerers, and even a warlock here and there, you were as useless as, in his words, a screen door on a submarine.
But there was something you were good at: sneaking into places where you shouldn’t be, and if you returned sometimes with something that wouldn’t be missed — at least not until you were long gone — then perhaps your uncle could find a use for you after all. The only problem was that in return for keeping you safe and shielded from those you’d robbed – by his position on the Council of Mages and his general lofty position in the world of the supernatural – he could always ask you to do just one more job for him. That was how, even into adulthood, you found yourself largely beholden to him.
“I said, I want you to steal the Amulet of Protection from Rafael da Liro, and return to me with it.”
“You want me to break into a pureblood, elder vampire’s castle and steal an amulet that makes its wearer immune to vampire compulsion?”
“You can even put it on while you get it out of there,” he said with magnanimous sarcasm. “But it comes straight to my hands afterwards, understand?”
“How?” you exhaled. “How the fuck am I supposed to do that?”