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withahappyrefrain · 1 year

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did we ever get a follow up on that night with bob? the 7th date one where he ate us out twice? pls my brain is short circuiting i need to know if we get to fuck him💔

Not only did we fuck him, we also learned another surprising thing about Bob: he has a raging size kink. Aka Full of Surprises Part 2: Electric Bugaloo

Warning: fem reader, language, unprotected sex, Bob has a huge dick, Bob is also a sweet precious bean, size kink, fingering, multiple orgasms, squirting, overstimulation, creampie, slight dacryphilia (depends on how you look at it) just wrote 3.8K of porn, don't look at me

Being with Bob Floyd was the closest thing to euphoria.

When you were with him, you felt at ease and as light as a feather.

All he had to do was look at you with that sweet lopsided grin and joy would pulse through your veins.

It was why you didn’t mind pausing as you two both recovered from your previous activities and just laid in bed, kissing one another before continuing.

“I love kissing you,” Bob whispered before pressing another kiss to your cheek, then the tip of your nose before moving down to your lips.

A giggle escaped as you weaved your hands into his hair, fingers gently grasping at the now soft, ungelled curls, “Could have been doing it a lot sooner."

"I know," Bob groaned, shaking his head, "I wanted to, like really bad. But I didn't want to make you uncomfortable."

Of course he didn’t. Even after making you fall apart on his mouth twice, make sure you were at ease was still at the forefront of Bob’s mind.

"Well," your fingers traced the soft skin of his broad shoulders, "I think it's safe to say we are now very comfortable with each other."

He grabbed your hand, bringing it up to his lips. How was this man real? More importantly, how was he in your bed?

That was something to figure out later. Right now, you were too busy soaking in the sensation of his body on top of yours, lips attached to your neck, and what just brushed against your thigh?

Your hunch was confirmed when he rolled his hips against yours again.

It shouldn't have been a surprise. Out of all the things you learned tonight about Bob, this one shouldn't have come as a shock.

He wasn't short, far from it. You barely came up to his chin. When he cupped your face, his thumbs would rest comfortably along your jawline while the rest of his hands covered your whole neck. He was able to lift you up like it was nothing, for crying out loud.

So out of all the things you learned about Robert Floyd tonight, the fact he was well-endowed shouldn't be a surprise.

And yet, here you were, mouth open and eyes wide as saucers when you saw just the tip of his cock peeking out from his boxers, resting against one of his pale thighs.

That was just the tip?

Was it even going to fit?

"You okay?" His voice was full of concern. His cerulean eyes never left your face.

"I um….y-you're big." You mentally kicked yourself as soon as the words came out of your mouth.

A hand flew up to the back of his neck, rubbing the warm skin, "Uh yeah I…that's why I wanted to get you used to my fingers. We um, we don't have to-"

"No! I mean, that was a 'no' to the idea of us not doing something. Sorry it's," you sighed, bringing a pillow to cover your face, "it's been a while and I've forgotten what's proper etiquette but I know exclaiming that you have a big dick isn't it."

Bob couldn't help but chuckle, though there was no malicious intent behind it. Usually he was the one rambling and getting flustered. As nice as it was that the tables had turned for once, he didn't like that you were hiding.

"Don't hide that beautiful face from me, darlin'," it wasn't meant to be a command. But the way his voice was low and raspy made your thighs clench.

He gently pulled the pillow away, revealing your flustered face. There wasn’t any hint of ego on his face (despite having a very big reason to). Instead his face was sweet, a soft smile adorning his handsome face.

"I'm sorry," you blurted out.

Bob shrugged, "For what? I mean, it's kinda….well, hard to miss. Can't exactly hide it, y'know."

You giggled, instantly feeling more relaxed, "Do you normally talk about your dick size in bed or should I feel very special?"

"You should feel special," Bob's hands cupped the sides of your face, bringing your lips to his for a brief moment, "because you're absolutely incredible."

His lips trailed away from yours, moving down to your neck, past your collarbone, until they reached your chest. Your back arched as his mouth took one of your nipples, his teeth gently grazing against the sensitive skin.

"R-Robby," you gasped when his fingers traced your entrance.

The way you moaned his name was addicting. Bob had to stop his hips from rolling against the bed, knowing now just how easily he could come from watching you fall apart on his fingers.

Instead, he watches, memorized by how your cunt stretches to accommodate his thick fingers. His cock twitched at the thought of how it would feel, desperate to have a turn.

He knows you like him, and he's ninety-five percent positive you're the one for him. Which is why he doesn't want to rush things.

A groan escapes your lips, your hips buckling up to meet his fingers, despite shaking your head, "I'm-I'm gonna come if you keep doing that."

Bob chuckled, leaning over so that his face was mere inches away from yours, fallen dark blonde locks tickling your forehead.

"Ya say that like it's a bad thing, darlin'." Prior to tonight, you had never seen that smirk on his face. It was the closest to cocky that Bob had been and you really shouldn't find it fucking hot but here you were.

"W-wanna come on your cock," you whined. It wasn’t that you didn’t like his fingers, you loved them inside of you. But now that you knew, you were desperate to know how his cock felt.

His blue eyes widened as his hand stilled its movements. Bob opened his mouth as if to speak, and then promptly closed it, your words replaying over and over in his brain.

Fuck.

Once his brain came back online after short-circuiting, Bob found himself quickly removing his boxers, tossing the undergarment somewhere on the floor of your bedroom. He could pick it up afterwards.

A joke about being eager was on the tip of your tongue. Though it died as soon as Bob wrapped his arms around you, picking you up and placing you on his lap.

For someone lean and lanky, he was deceptively strong.

Any and all thoughts left your brain when his cock slid through your slicked folds. Bob couldn't help but smirk; the person who sought him out, who asked him out, now a moaning mess from just feeling his cock against you. If he had more stamina, he would continue; brush his hardened cock against your clit, drawing out high-strung moans until you made a mess with your own cum.

Another time.

It felt exhilarating, knowing there would be more times in the future. You didn't even flinch when he laid you back down on the bed, a pillow now flushed against your hips. You raised an eyebrow, confused by the action.

“It um…it helps with….y’know.”

Bob was going to do this right.

"Please tell me you have lube." It took a few seconds to process his words, as you were too busy registering the fact he was able to manhandle your body without a second thought.

"Why would we-"

"We're gonna need it. Makes it easier." The fact he said it with zero doubt, because he knew it was true and he wanted you comfortable, made your head spin. You were used to guys either treating you like a rag doll or as if you were made out of glass.

But Bob Floyd treated you like you were made of starlight. One that was capable of thoughts, one that deserved having things explained, not to downplay your intelligence, but because you deserve to know.

It was subtle and the worst part was that he probably didn't think anything of it. To Bob, this was how he would treat anyone he cared about.

But to you, it meant everything. So much that it made your heart swell.

Meanwhile, Bob was frozen because while he definitely heard you say that you had lube in the top drawer of your dresser, his mind was on another thing that happened to be in his wallet, which was now somewhere on your bedroom floor.

"I uh-I have a condom in my wallet. Not that I usually carry one around. I mean, obviously I do but like, I didn’t like, actively go out, buy one, and put it in my wallet. One of my buddies gave it to me as a joke and I figured y'know, it's good to have in case I or anyone else needs it. Not that I expect to, you know, it's just it's good to always be prepared just uh just in case. I was a boy scout and they always emphasize that part, being prepared. They didn’t relate it to having sex safely, the context for them was more about carrying a first aid kit and I really should stop talking about that and check if the condom hasn’t expired-"

"God, you're so fucking cute," you sat up, hands reaching out to grab his broad shoulders, crashing your lips onto his in a bruising kiss.

"T-thanks," Bob mumbled, glad you found his rambling endearing, as well as that you cut him off before he began talking about his Eagle Scout project.

"I have an IUD. I also wasn't planning on being with anyone besides you." Bob's eyes widened, but instead of regret or fear (the emotions you were used to receiving), there was joy?

"R-really? Because I feel the exact same way but didn't want to assume anything or-"

"Have I not made it obvious that I'm crazy about ya Robby?"

A rosy tint dusted his cheeks as he looked down, "Didn't want to assume."

"Well, you don't have to assume," you reached out, intertwining your fingers with his, "I like you a lot. So quit assuming I don't."

“So it….wouldn’t be wrong of me to assume that like, we’re going steady? Like officially-”

“I want you to be my boyfriend, if that’s what you’re asking Robby.” You could feel the smile he had as he kissed you

He gently squeezed your hands, smiling at the reassurance, "Can I make love to you?"

"I'd love nothing more, Robby."

Love.

It's like music to his eyes, hearing the word come out of your mouth.

He knows it's too soon, and in the back of his mind, he's yelling to himself why did you pick that word don't scare her. But with that sweet smile of yours, it's easy to drown out that nagging voice, and instead focus on the fact he's definitely falling in love with you.

"Um, where did you say the lube was? Got distracted by that smile of yours." Heat rushes to your face from his words, and you nearly forget to give him an answer.

With a quickness you had never seen from him, Bob located and applied the lube. Yes it was rude to stare, but it was hard not to look at his dick when it was that noticeable.

A large hand gently cupped half of your face, "You'll tell me if it's too much, right?"

"Course," you mumbled against his lips, your hips brushing against his.

The chuckle he let out made your heart flutter, "I know darlin', I'm excited too. Don't wanna hurt ya."

You could never hurt me Robby was on the tip of your tongue. But it died upon feeling the head of his cock enter you. The stretch was a delicious pain that made you throw your head back. Your hands dug into his back, leaving half-crescents along his skin.

Bob's head dropped down to your chest, his mouth taking in one of your hardened nipples. It was a tried and true method; distract you from the initial pain with something more pleasurable. His eyes never left your face, on the lookout for any sign of discomfort.

The grip you had on him relaxed, your back arching as his teeth gently tugged on the hardened bud.

"Robby." His name came out in the form of a strangled whine, your cunt still adjusting to the sheer size of him.

"You okay baby?" He asked before switching to your other breast.

"Y-yeah. You c-can move now, n-now that it's all-"

"Darlin', I'm only halfway in ya."

Fuck.

"Wait, what?" How quick your voice changed from desperate to shock was near comical.

Bob tried to stifle his laugh, instead just shrugging, "I….I told ya it was a lot."

"I didn't realize, I mean, I know you said it was big, but I didn't realize it meant-" Jesus Christ.

"I get it, I know plenty of guys who have said they had nine inches when they really meant five."

The comment was so unexpected from Bob, you couldn't help but laugh. He joined you, feeling at ease despite that he was halfway inside of you and you felt fucking incredible.

He peppered your face with light kisses as he slowly inched more of himself into you. As the moments passed, your body began to get used to him.

"Gonna start movin' now, 'kay?" You nodded eagerly, your fingers gripping the ends of his dark blonde hair.

"Fuck, Robby!"

"D-darlin."

He felt incredible, making you feel a fullness that had your back arching. Had that ever happened before? You thought that was just some made up shit you read in-

All thoughts left your head when the head of his cock brushed against your sensitive walls. Without even thinking about it, your legs wrapped themselves around his waist.

Bob was trying to think of everything under the sun that would keep himself from coming before you did, which normally wasn't a struggle.

But you? You felt incredible.

Every sound that escaped your lips was enchanting. If you were a siren, he was diving head first to answer your call. It was mesmerizing watching you react to taking all of him; your lips slightly parted, your fingers grasping at the sheets as his thrusts increased in intensity. Your thighs trembled as he bottomed out once more, eyes widening as you process that he's finally completely inside of you and holy shit.

Bob wasn't sure what he had done to deserve an angel like you, but he was fucking grateful for it.

"R-Robby," your voice reduced to nothing but strangled whines, "S'big."

"Fuck, you were made f'me," Bob's voice was low and strained against your ear. His words, combined with the desperate panting that fell from his lips with every thrust, made the coil in your stomach tighten, threatening to snap at any moment.

The only thing you could muster that resembled speech were longing whines. You wanted to tell him how good it felt, to be stretched by him, to have his cock brush against that sensitive spot that sent you tumbling closer to the edge. That no one had ever felt this good, had been this good to you.

But that would require the ability to form coherent thoughts.

"Ya gettin' close baby?" His drawl was thicker. Prior to Bob, you didn't think of Midwestern accents as hot. But his voice was addicting.

You simply nodded, head now buried in the crook of his neck.

"Don't worry, I got ya." He brought two fingers up to his mouth, coating them with his tongue.

The sight had you whining. Call it being greedy, but you wanted all of him.

"Ya wanna help?" You nodded your head, lips parting to allow his fingers into your mouth.

"Such a sweet girl," He practically cooed, watching as you took the two digits up to his knuckle.

The grunt he let out upon feeling your throat tightened as you gagged on his fingers was downright animalistic. It didn't help that Bob could feel how much it turned you on, your cunt clenching around his cock at the sound.

His fingers left your mouth to trail down to where your bodies met and began drawing right circles on your clit.

At this point, you were ninety percent certain that you were shouting Bob's name. It was hard to tell, between the bed creaking with every thrust, the downright sinful grunts Bob let out everytime he felt your walls tighten, getting closer and closer to the edge. All this, plus the sound of skin slapping against skin? Who could think about noise complaints?

Your neighbors could get fucked.

His lips captured yours in a bruising kiss, teeth all but clashing against yours as his tongue became familiar with your mouth.

"W-wanna ride you," you mumbled against his shoulder, hips buckling against his.

Bob simply shook his head, despite how tempting your offer was, "Gotta get ya used to me, darlin'. Next time, 'kay?"

Next time. Next time. You knew it would be at least a couple of days until next time, that you (and your cunt) would need time to rest and recover and you already knew that in itself was going to be torture because fuck, no one had ever made you feel this good before.

But you couldn't wait for the next time.

"C'mon darlin'. Wanna see if ya feel just as good comin' on my cock as ya do on my fingers. Think ya can do that f'me?"

Maybe you nodded. Perhaps you even gave Bob a verbal response. You weren't sure, as your brain had gone fuzzy while white hot pleasure overtook your body.

Bob was surprised he could still thrust in and out of your cunt, considering how tightly it was clenching his cock as you came. The sight of your head thrown back, eyes closed, as the rest of your body withered in pleasure was enough for him.

Your eyes opened upon hearing the most beautiful sound; a deep, guttural moan as Bob's hips stuttered before coming inside of you.

There had to be other ways to get him to make those sinfully sweet noises.

For the next few minutes, the only sounds in your room was your overhead fan and heavy panting as you and Bob attempted to catch your breath.

Fuck, he came a lot.

"Was that, um, was that-"

"That was fucking incredible." Instinctively, you wrapped your legs around his waist, "Could go for another round if I'm being honest."

Bob groaned in frustration, "I wanna be able to fuck you within the next few days, not weeks."

You whined in response as he began to shift his body, the grip your legs had around his waist tightening.

"Darlin', I don't wanna hurt ya," he knew you would be sore, even if you didn't feel it yet. Bob knew you would tomorrow, hell probably even later tonight.

"No! Robby, please. N-need you. Need you s'bad." The idea of being empty, of being without him was awful.

He didn't want to hurt you.

But he could help wash your sheets.

"Think you can come f'me one more time?" His voice was raspy as he pulled out. Confusion melted away into pleasure when you felt his cock drag through your soaked folds.

He was thick and still hard, which baffled you. You were used to 'one and done'. You were used to men rolling over and falling asleep after they fucked you, not even bothering to check if you actually came.

"You looked s'good, takin' all of me," He cooed. The praise made your head spin.

Your hips jerk upwards, trying to catch him, but Bob sees right through it. His large hands are able to hold you down and you're honestly not sure if that was better or worse.

"I told ya darlin', don't wanna hurt ya. Need to take a break," His gruff voice was stern.

You gasped when the head of his cock dragged against your clit. Bob could already recognize the tall tale signs that you're close; your back arching, eyes screwed shut in pleasure, your whines increasing in pitch.

He zeroed in on the swollen bundle of nerves, eliciting a near scream from you as you began to come undone on his cock.

Bob couldn't help it, he tried not to curse that often. But the sight of you soaking his dick with your come caused his brain to go blank.

What was definitely a scream came out from your lips when you felt his cock slip back inside your cunt. Your hands reached up, tugging at his hair, earning a near-growl from Bob.

“I can’t get enough of ya. Feel s’fucking good,” each word was punctured by a thrust, “Look so pretty like this.”

As your lips parted, three fingers slid into your mouth. The sudden lack of oxygen, the sensation of his calloused fingers against your tongue, had you nearly gagging on the thick digits.

Tears began to form at the corner of your eyes. In the back of your mind, this should be painful. Maybe you should tell Bob to stop, he would listen after all.

But god it felt so damn good. You felt high off the immense pleasure you were experiencing, the big wave brought on by your previous orgasm having melded into small waves of pleasure. Small moans dribbled past his fingers, your hips weakly trying to meet his.

In the back of his mind, Bob knew he should pause, should stop and ask if you wanted to still continue. But he also knew how much you enjoyed it, despite the tears.

But that didn’t stop him from dipping his head down to your face, soft lips kissing away the tears.

“Breathe. Breathe through your nose.” He directed. How did he know that? They certainly didn’t teach that in Eagle Scouts. Or maybe they did during the swimming badge?

His cock brushed against that one spot you swore folks were making up and your mind went blank. Amidst the deep haze, his fingers leave your mouth, hooking themselves under your chin, forcing you to look upwards so he could kiss you again.

God, did he love kissing you.

More than the fact you made him come now three times in one night. More than the fact you were currently soaking his cock, back careening off the bed as you continued to come.

"Oh, R-Robby."

But that nickname, that made his heart swell, that made him feel truly at ease, made him feel like himself -not Robert or Bob- when you called him that?

That was a close second.

Your arms wrapped themselves around his torso, your head resting on his broad shoulder as you began to recover from tonight's excursions.

"Stay for a little bit. Like being full of you, Robby."

Fuck, he needed to buy a ring tomorrow.

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fluloa · 1 year

Text

Si fpom

Jake sully x reader [series, part two]

PART ONE

The sand burns beneath his feet, his skin hot and irritated from Eywa's unforgiving sun. Jake pats his ikran firmly on the chest, breathing steadily. He watches as people crawl out of their pods, emerge from the blue water and judging by their expressions, they aren't happy. He looks back to his family, gaze lingering on his oldest seeming weary and his fingers grazing the bow strapped to his ikran.

"Neteyam," he whispers sharply, and he looks to him, cowering away from the bow with a small huff through his nose. "On me," he commands his children, unable to hide the nervousness peering out of his tone. "Tuk," he mumbled, stretching his hand out for her to take. She runs to grab it, before settling her hands on the back of his leg.

Jake readjusts his slipping loincloth to sit comfortable on his hips before stretching his arms out wide, making sure to walk slowly and steadily. A sign of peace, a sign he could only hope they accept. He isn't able to stop himself from staring at the spears that some of the people hold, noticing the sharp, hard points of them. He does his best to keep his face neutral.

Two young boys and a girl crack through the thick group, slightly circling his sons.

"What is that? That supposed to be a tail?" One cracks, snickering and the other laughs with him. "How are they supposed to swim—"

The girl suddenly hits the cocky boy's arm, voice stern, "Do not, Roxto and Ao'nung."

Suddenly, the hushed talk of the people dies down a few notches.

Jake tilts his head to see a figure pushing— no, melting through the crowd, because they seem to be immediately parting for the said figure. He hears the light sound of shells rattling, smooth feet treading on the sand and before he can even catch his breath, there you are.

Weirdly enough, his mind jumbles. An unusual, unfamiliar bolt jitters through his body, settling at the pit of his stomach. Like a jolt of electricity.

You're of status. That much he can tell. Your black hair lavers down your back and over your shoulders, with a bundle of pearls and crystals twisted through it. You wear a lengthy sarong that lies loose around your hips, the right side cutting only at your calf. There are three crystalloid waist-beads that wrap around your torso, and your threaded top only covers what's necessary, and that too, is sprinkled with colorful spangles. Anklets, armlets, bracelets. A necklace that's crested with precious seashells and looped with glossy pearls. Your body is wet, skin dotted with water drops as if you had just gotten out of the ocean.

You scoop your hair out from your neck, unsticking it from your skin and moving it all to the back of you. He doesn't think he's ever seen a movement be done so gracefully.

A being that's ethereal, nothing he has seen before and it's something about you that reels him in like a fish caught on a hook. Your gaze finally locks with his, eyes ripe with curiosity and poise. His stomach does a flip, suddenly feeling the heat burning from beneath your expression. Your face is unreadable, your chin held high as you examine him and his family, and the sudden big whooshes from above him is the only thing that pulls his attention away from you.

Three big sea animals with long wings ride in, splashing into the water and one rider soaring on them is recognised easily. Tonowari, chief of the Metkayina, the reef people. He emerges from the water with a sense of power flowing behind him, and he strides with strength as his spear digs deep into sand each time he takes a step. They exchange greetings, and Jake's feels a sense of relief at the calm connection, as he knew Tonowari was a fierce leader.

But it wasn't him Jake was worried about.

Ronal emerges through the crowd, hips swaying gently and her face is unreadable, just like yours. She holds a strong aura, and her skirt rattles powerfully against her teal skin as she takes long, wary appearing steps.

"I see you, Ronal, Tsahik of the Metkayinas," Jake rushes, connecting his fingers to his head and releasing them swiftly. She says nothing in return, only flicking her eyes over his kids scattered behind him.

"Jakesully," Tonowari begins. "Why do you come to us?"

Jake licks swiftly at his lips, "We seek Uturu."

"Uturu?" Ronal snaps, like he has just insulted her with three striking words.

"Yes— sanctuary for my family," Jake reaches for Tuk standing meekly behind him, grasping her hand and bringing her gently forward.

"We are reef people," Tonowari lets a soft, unbelievable laugh escape from his chest. Ronal begins to circle Jake and his family. "You are forest people. Your skills will mean nothing here."

"So we will learn your ways, yeah?" Jake pleads.

Ronal grabs at Jake's tail, earning a little jut of his body from the unexpected action. She strokes her hand down Tuk's arm. "Their arms are thin," she states loud. It takes him by the unexpected when he feels another set of hands settling on his tail, and he whips his head around to see you, fingers grazing the length.

"Their tails are thin as well," you say, earning a small nod from Ronal. You drop his tail, now stepping over to his little girl behind him. "Mother," you murmur, jutting your head towards Tuk and she follows the movement, humming lowly. Mother. You were the clan leader's daughter, the next tsahik in line. He now understood the mutual energy you both shared.

"The thinness of your body parts will make you weak," Ronal then pulls on Kiri's tail, earning a whiney ow from her but the tsahik completely ignores it. "You will be slow in the water."

Ronal examines her arms, then moves to settle on her hands, and her eyes widen. She swiftly grabs at her them, swinging them up for everyone to see. "These children... are not even true na'vi." She strides over to the next kid, and of course, she lands on Lo'ak. She pushes his hand up too, revealing the same five blue fingers, "They have demon blood!"

The thick crowd swirls with gasps and terror-filled whispers, even a round of hisses chucked out. But Jake is quick to wave his hand out in front of Ronal's face, a sudden desperation, a sudden need to protect his family rushing in. "Look. Look!" Ronal's gaze snaps to him, eyeing the way his fingers wiggle around. "Look, I was born of the Sky People and now I am Na'vi. Alright? You can adapt." He turns to his worried family, "We can adapt."

"My father was Toruk Makto," Kiri rushes to tell, her eyes hung with slight desperation in them. Jake bites at his tongue, pulling all his inner strength together to not clamp his hand over his teenage daughter's mouth. "He lead the clans to victory against the Sky People. You know the tale."

"This is what you call victory, child? Hiding amongst strangers?" She towers over the teenage girl, her gaze darkening with disgust. She whips her head to Jake, "It seems Eywa has turned her back on you, chosen one."

An immediate, breathy hiss comes from Kiri, which is then met with a hiss from Ronal right back, dangerously leaning over her and that's when Jake places a hand on Kiri's shoulder and gently rocks her back a few steps. "I apologise for my daughter. She has travelled for a long time and is exhausted." He shoots her a look while explaining, tightening his grip on her shoulder slightly.

"Dad..." Kiri is quick to complain, but stops her next coming words when his expression hardens.

"Toruk Makto is a great leader, all Na'vi people know his story." Tonowari suddenly speaks out, extending his arm outwards toward Jake. "But we Metkayina are not at war," Tonowari turns to him. "We cannot let you bring your war here."

As Tuk numbly reaches for Jake, he immediately scoops her up by her torso, laying her head against his shoulder as her body presses sleepily at his chest. "I'm done with war," he plains, tone hugging a tiredness. "I just want to keep my family safe. That's all." He wraps an arm around his daughter's back, feeling the burning warmth of her sun-exposed skin. "Please," he adds.

A long look is exchanged between Ronal and Tonowari, and as restless anticipation boils at Jake's stomach, Tonowari turns around to him once again.

"Toruk Makto and his family will stay with us." Immediate relief floods through Jake's system, and he gives a reassuring pat to Tuk's small back. "Treat them as our brothers and sisters. But they do not know the sea, and they will be like babies taking their first breath. We shall teach them our ways so they do not suffer the shame of being useless."

Jake huffs out a breathless laugh, mixed with soft adrenaline and consolation. "Well— what do we say? Thank you."

A round of thank yous are heard, and a short, quiet one is added on by his attitude-filled daughter, Kiri.

"My eldest daughter will teach you the ways of Metkayina, Jakesully. As for my other daughter and son, they will show your children what to do," Tonowari speaks and a choked scoff is heard from beside him. Your jaw tightens, eyes setting wide as you whip your body towards your parents.

"Father," you dash. "You cannot exp—"

"It is decided." He booms, not sparing you even a look and your lips break into a snarl, a tiny and annoyed hiss breaking past your them. You seem to collect yourself just a moment after, breathing in through your chest before you take a large step forward.

"Come, I will show you our village," you invite, letting a small smile spread on your face and placing your hands neatly behind you. "Tsireya," you call, and she quickly follows after.

"Come!" the younger girl behind you cheers, and Jake swears he hears a soft laugh from in front of her.

He's quick to join you.

The ocean waves crash against your feet, splashing at your ankles as you toss food into a young ilu's mouth. You hold a basket at your hip, filled with fresh fish that is ready to be eaten.

Tsireya stays restless beside you, rising up and down on her toes as she helps you. "What do you think of Toruk Makto and his family?" you ask, dipping your hand into the basket again and wrapping your fingers around the thick of a fish's wet body.

Beforehand, you had examined Jakesully and his family from afar as they settled into their new home. You were relieved that they had seemed to like their marui pod, and hoped that they found peace within it. While they attempted to grow comfortable in their new home, you couldn't help but awe at their appearances. Their skin colour was a shade so blue, their eyes a vibrant, startling yellow.

Jakesully is intriguing looking, you figured, and you found yourself letting your eyes linger on him when they had firstly arrived. Even just before, you had to forcibly pull your eyes away from him and the action of the readjustment of his leather clip around his torso.

"I find them interesting. They're so.. blue." Tsireya replies. You throw the fish into another ilu's mouth, a happy chirp flowing from the eager animal as you do so. "You were upset about teaching Toruk Makto the ways of our people. Why?"

You blink, collecting another fish in your hands, "I was not upset about that. I was upset about the fact that father throws tasks at me repeatedly, and just expects me to handle it with the snap of my fingers. I'm aware that this was a completely unexpected event, but... it can get infuriating. Mother is the same."

"I understand," she responds, tucking a bunch of hair behind her ear.

You huff out a breath of air. "Fine, I must admit that I was a bit tempered in the moment. Toruk Makto does not seem like the ideal man to teach."

Tsireya laughs, "I understand that, too."

"Mm," you make a small, giddy humming noise. "Lo'ak seems ideal though, yes?"

"What?" she frowns, and your smirk widens.

"I saw you making big eyes at him," you tease, kicking her ankle softly with your foot.

"I wasn't."

"Oh, I think you were, hi'i ilva." You kick her again, finding amusement in her growing fluster. She groans out your name, pushing you in the shoulder and you gasp out a dramatised grunt, "Ooow!"

"You said you were going to stop calling me that," she embarrassingly wipes at her cheek, stretching out the skin of her eye.

"But you used to love it when you were little," you pout. Her frown deepens playfully. You notice the way her eyes travel over you, and a cheeky grin of her own makes its way to her smooth lips.

"Don't look now, but Toruk Makto is staring at you." Tsireya whispers giddily, ducking her head a little.

Your back straightens instinctively and you immediately turn your head around to look, doing exactly what she said not to do. Tsireya groans because of it.

She's right. Jakesully is looking at you from afar, and when he sees that you've caught him, he pushes out a dopey smile, flicking his still hand up in greeting. You nod your head back, letting a tiny smile split your lips. He begins walking over to you, and that's when you sigh quietly.

"Go help out Toruk Makto's children," you say, handing your basket to a villager ready to finish the task. "Use nice words, and make them feel welcome. And keep Ao'nung in line. Anything goes south, call out for me."

"Alright," she giggles, and you can tell she's excitement. She grazes your arm in goodbye and trots off, filling you with a small warmth at her obvious eagerness.

You wish you too possessed eagerness for teaching Jakesully, but Eywa didn't seem to be on your side today.

When he's near enough, you gently ball your fingers in a small fist on your forehead and then release them, a soft bow of your head. "Oel ngati kameie."

"Oel ngati kameie," he returns, repeating the gesture. There's a sense of awkward tension between the two of you. It's small, but it's there.

"Come," you command, sliding your hands behind your back and he listens, trailing behind you like a lost baby ilu following its mother. He attempts to match your long strides against the sand, even flicking up some and bits of it sprigging you in the legs. "My sister is eager to teach your children. She makes a great teacher. They will learn quick."

"That's good," Jakesully grumbles. You can feel his eyes stare into your face.

"I hope I make a great teacher to you, Toruk Makto." You add, flicking your fingers in your conjoined hands.

"Jake," he says, now grabbing your attention and you spin your head towards his. "Call me Jake."

"Jake?" you ask, the foreign word springing off your tongue loosely.

"Jake." He confirms, a smirk twitching on his lips. "And what shall I call you?" he prods, letting his eyes flick a mischievous glint.

"Karyu," you reply. Teacher. You aren't looking at him, but you hope he doesn't see the ghost of a grin playing on your mouth. You do catch the little flick of his tail though from the corner of your eye.

You begin to sink into your feet into the water, ushering him with the flick of your wrist and as you dive deeper into the sea, you glide a hand along an incoming ilu. "You will make bond with many ilu. They are kind, soft creatures. Treat them as your brother, your close one," you explain, rubbing a hand over the ilu's head before you.

Jake's next to you, placing a hand on its back. You take his hand, guiding it to the base of her long neck and angling his fingers to rest at the side of it. "Feel the strong huff of her breath, the scales of her skin."

He does as told, smoothing his palm flat onto her neck. Then his ears perk up, and his eyes run over to a spot behind you. "What's that?"

You attempt to look where his gaze was set, and you sigh once seeing where it was. "That is a skimwing. Only the most skilled Metkayina hunters may mount them."

You can see the way his eyes dart open, looking to you from the side and before he can even open his mouth, you're scolding him, "It isn't wise to start with a skimwing. An ilu would be much better."

He grins for the hundredth time today, but this time you're able to catch a glimpse of his pearly teeth. "Toruk Makto can handle a skimwing, ma karyu."

The skimwing is puffing out ragged and intimidating breaths as Jake flops belly first onto his back, swinging his leg over recklessly as a few men around them struggle to keep the beast down. Its back end thrashes, splashing water wildly and hitting you a couple of times. You're at the eager man's side, keeping your own and holding down the skimwing with an arm on its side.

"You hold here, yes— tight grip, Jake. Do not let go," you declare with your voice raised, trying to boom over the loud smack of the thrashing animal beside you. Jake grabs the leather band out from his mouth, using it to wrap it around his hand and the thick handle. "Remember, when you dive back into the water, keep a good position. Strong hold."

"Mhm," Jake mumbles, half-paying attention as he yanks the band a few times, stabilising the hold. Then he looks at you, and with a quirked lean of his head, he states, "I got this."

You breathe in deeply through your chest, taking a step back as you eye him steadily.

"Heeyah!" he shouts, the skimwing pouncing into action. It swivels and bolts through the water, and you watch as it jolts up and out of it, orange bold wings flapping out powerfully. You're impressed by it, with the way Jake hops up on one foot and rides the skimwing not flawlessly, but bravely. You even begin to tilt your head to get a clearer view of the scene. But then you notice the mishap, the leak of his performance when diving back down.

The skimwing escapes him, and he's left on his side before he's jumping up from the water, locks of black hair swishing back and forth. He swings up his arm, the hand that was once twisted into the skimwing's handle, now waved up in the air as he shakes it with anger. You can hear him groaning out in frustration, and a short laugh snorkels out from your mouth. You call for an ilu, hopping on it with a chortle and gliding to his aid.

"Toruk Makto cannot handle a skimwing as it seems," you tease, earning a chopped, slightly sheepish laugh from Jake. Your grin weakens when you see his arm, now reddened with whipped marks that seemed less severe from two hundred metres away. "Would you like something to aid that?"

"This? This ain't nothing." He brushes off, shoving the arm into the water.

"Hm," you murmur, raising a brow gently. "I will aid it for you if it does not fade within a few days."

"It's fine. Really—" he sees the expression on your face, and it's an expression that tells him that you will not give up on persistence. He sighs lowly. "'right, sweetheart."

Sweet heart? A heart that is sweet, you gathered. You've heard of many stories that your mother has told of the humans, and their foul and odd language. But this, you had not heard of. It should not have made the inner of your belly swirl with a sudden warmth like it had.

You raise your head, "Let's return to the ilu."

It's at the dark of night, and Jake is sat down with his family. Just like the Omoticaya, the Metkayina gather around for supper, a large bonfire in the middle of the peaceful people. The fish he chews is warm and smokey with flavor, his body tired from the day's work. Tuk is leant against his shoulder, a yawn leaving her. Neteyam sharpens an arrow of his bow, and Kiri is playing with one of her beads mangled in her hair as Lo'ak recklessly gobbles down his dinner.

He feels a sudden glow spread through his chest, because what he feels is the similar sensation of peace. Peace, at last. It partially convinces him to believe that what he did was right. It was right to rip himself and his family away from their home, to protect them from Quaritch and the vicious forces of the RDA.

He looks out in front of him and past the bright fire, his line of eyesight landing on both you and your family. You're scratching your knee as the bonfire toasts around you, its orange light illuminating on your face and giving the shade of your big eyes a warm glow. Ronal then looks to you, and the trace of her eyebrows pinch together. "Eat, child. You have barely touched any food," she snaps.

Obviously embarrassed, you heave out a long, exhausted sigh. "Mama," you whine out, a flush erupting on your cheeks and Jake has to suppress a chuckle from breaking out his chest.

Ronal picks up your wooden bowl, jutting it toward you. "Eat," she sterns. You take it from her, side-eyeing her as you begin to stuff your mouth little by little. When Jake realises he's been looking too long, he snaps his head down, mentally slapping himself.

When the lights are out and the only noise that goes through Jake's ears is the cold wind, Jake sits. He sits in his marui, as his children sleep soundly. It wasn't out of the ordinary. It had been like this for a while, ever since Neytiri had left him and gone into the hands of Eywa. He'd just wait and wait, until his eyes finally became wary, and sometimes even that didn't happen. Sometimes he would not find the comfort of sleep at all.

But then he hears the bend of the floor nets near him, the same clatter of shells he heard earlier that day and his ears flicker against his hair. He slowly gets up, careful not to awake the sleeping youngsters beneath him as he creeps his way to the closed opening of the pod.

When he opens the cloth flap, there you are, head flicked up and looking up at him with those big eyes of yours. "Hello," you say, and it's the quietest he has heard you.

"Hey," he mutters, gaze turning to his kids for a split second.

You lean your head over too, "Are they asleep?"

"Yes." He states, looking back at you. It's quiet for a second, and he takes the moment to do a once-over of you. Your hair is completely out, wild and breezing gently through the ocean's breeze. A shawl is wrapped loosely around your form, beaded with tiny shells that dangle each time your arm shifts.

"Tsireya has told me they are kind. That they are eager to learn." You continue, adjusting your shawl to cover your shoulder a bit more.

"That's good," he says. He gets a jolt of déjà vu from the conversation you shared earlier today. His eyes drift to the way a large piece of your hair sways in front of your shoulder and pools at the centre of your chest.

You then say a word, and he doesn't quite catch it.

"Hm?" he whispers, eyes connecting with yours once again.

"That is my name," you repeat it again, the word rolling off your tongue like a run of honey. His eyes twitch wide, blinking as his mind registers it. A pretty name for a pretty girl. He doesn't say that, though.

Instead, "S' pretty."

"Thank you," you mumble, already turning to leave when he calls out your name. You tilt your head, gazing up at him through the thick of your eyelashes.

"Just wanted to say it," he admits, and fuck, shit, he's already regretting it. He expects you to do anything but crack a gentle smile, a muffled and soft laugh from you as you turn back and walk away. He watched your form disappear into the night, the clattering of seashells fading from his ears.

When he climbs back into the pod, for the first time in a while, he finds the comfort of sleep easily.

- guys im so sorry i could not do a taglist for this shit there was about TWO HUNDRED PEOPLE ASKING. i think i’ll gradually add everyone onto a taglist but for now, there is not one. sorry bbies <333

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queenshelby · 8 months

Text

Our Little Secret (Part Six)

Pairing: Dark! Cillian Murphy x Virgin! Reader

Warning: Smut, Age-Gap, Daddy Issues

Notes: This will not be a love story. It will be dark, twisted and kinky. Cillian is portrayed as totally off cannon.

Finally, Thursday came around and Cillian arrived at your house punctually, at 8 o'clock sharp.

"Are your parents gone?" he wanted to confirm and you nodded.

"Yes, both of them are at work," you said and, the moment you saw him, you felt a surge of electricity run through your veins, your body reacting involuntarily to his presence. Your heart raced, your breath caught in your throat, and your entire being seemed to yearn for his touch.

As he approached, you stood, meeting him halfway, your hands brushing against his chest, his hands finding their way onto your waist.

"Good," he said quietly, pulling you close, his lips brushing against yours lightly. His hands explored your curves, his fingers tracing delicate patterns along your skin.

The heat between you was palpable, his touch sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. You knew it wasn't love that brought you together, just lust and the need to satisfy it.

"Hang on," you interrupted your heated exchange. "About last night, when Danielle was here," you began to say hesitantly, feeling a sudden urge to address what had transpired. "Do you think she knows about us? Because she acted strangely towards me," you pointed out.

Cillian hesitated, pursing his lips as he considered your question. "I don't believe so," he finally answered, his tone confident. "But she was suspicious about you and the way you have been looking at me when we are around," Cillian told you, causing you to blush.

"Sorry, I can't help it," you murmured, feeling embarrassed by your own attraction towards him.

"Don't worry, I downplayed it when she mentioned it. I told her that you probably just have an innocent crush on me because I am an actor," he assured you smugly, smoothing your hair behind your ear gently.

His hands moved further down, tracing along your neck and shoulders until they reached the hem of your robe. With a gentle pull, he parted the fabric, revealing your flesh beneath.

"Asshole," you muttered playfully, referring to the situation, which made him laugh. With his free hand, he caressed your cheek, then cupped your lace covered breast, teasing your nipple with his thumb.

"Mmm," you moaned, leaning into his touch.

"Let's continue this conversation later. I don't want to talk about my wife right now," he whispered, his voice husky.

"Because, there is something else I much rather do first," he teased you, causing you to shiver.

"Oh?" you asked, intrigued.

"Yes," he said, moving his hands lower, down your belly, past your hip bones, and finally reaching your bottom.

Your heart raced as he gripped your ass firmly, lifting you effortlessly off the ground.

"What are you doing?" you breathed, your body trembling with excitement and anticipation.

"Taking you to your bedroom so that I can finally fuck that sweet little ass of yours," he whispered, his voice low and seductive.

Your eyes widened slightly at his crass language, and you could feel a rush of excitement swelling inside you. This was going to be unlike anything you had ever experienced before.

He carried you to your room, careful not to drop you. Once there, he laid you down on your bed, and slowly removed your robe, exposing your pale, semi-naked body to his eyes. The sight of your vulnerability made him even more aroused, his desire growing stronger with each passing second.

"Did you buy this lingerie just for me?" Cillian asked, seeing your black bra and thong beneath the robe.

Your face turned red, but you couldn't deny the truth, so you nodded, admitting, "Yes, I bought these especially for you." He smiled, his gaze raking over your curves once again, appreciating the sexy lingerie you had chosen.

"You look incredible," he whispered, his hands gently caressing your sides. "And your scent... It drives me fucking wild," Cillian told you.

Embarrassed yet thrilled by his compliments, you bit your lip and tried to maintain eye contact, but found yourself unable to resist looking away.

His confidence was unmistakable, and you were captivated by his raw sexual magnetism.

"Unfortunately, though, your bra and panties need to come off," he grinned devilishly, running his hands up your inner thighs, reaching your waistband.

Without waiting for your consent, he pulled them down your legs, tossing them carelessly aside. Your heart beat faster, and your body trembled with anticipation.

"Now the bra. I want to see your tits," he commanded, his tone implacable. As he gently took hold of your bra, his fingers trailing across your chest, his touch ignited feelings within you that you didn't know existed.

He slowly lifted your arms up, helping you remove the straps. The fabric fell, making your breasts exposed. Cillian stared at them intently, his eyes drinking in every detail. You blushed, feeling embarrassed but also thrilled by his obvious appreciation.

"So fucking sexy," he whispered, his lips grazing your shoulder as he ran his hands down your side. He gently pushed you back onto the bed, your head hitting the soft pillow. His kisses trailed down your neck, lingering on your collarbone, leaving small, passionate kisses in their wake.

"You taste so good," he mumbled, pressing his face into your neck, breathing heavily. He continued kissing and nibbling, moving further downward, reaching your chest.

He took one of your nipples between his teeth, biting gently before drawing circles around it with his tongue. Your moans filled the air, growing louder as his expertise became evident.

"You're such a little tease," he whispered, running his hands up your thighs. He pressed his finger against your wetness, testing how ready you were.

"Almost there, honey," he told you, using his finger to spread your moisture around, teasing your entrance. You squirmed underneath him, trying to catch your breath.

"Please," you pleaded, "please don't stop now," you begged.

Cillian laughed, his hands gripping your hips tightly.

"Tell me what you want!" he ordered as desire burned within you, driving you insane with the need to be closer to him. You arched your back, thrusting your hips toward him, silently begging for more.

"Tell me!" he said again, his lips against your ear.

"I want your mouth, down there," you stammered, your heart racing, your breath coming in short gasps. Cillian grinned and hissed, "Down where? Say it!" Cillian demanded, his hands never ceasing their movements, exploring every curve and crevice of your body.

"I want your mouth, on...on my pussy," you repeated, your voice barely above a whisper. You clenched your fists, struggling to stay composed as the intensity of the moment grew stronger.

Without words, Cillian moved his mouth downwards, taking slow, deliberate steps, savoring every inch of your body. When he reached your pussy, he looked up at you, his dark eyes sparkling with desire. "Is this where you want my mouth?" he asked, his voice rough with emotion.

"Yes," you replied breathlessly, your entire body aching with anticipation. "Please," you begged, writhing beneath him, desperate for his touch. He chuckled, a low, sensual sound that sent shivers down your spine.

Then, without warning, he plunged his tongue deep into your pussy, his mouth working in tandem with his fingers. You cried out, arching your back and gripping the sheets tightly. Cillian's movements were fluid and precise, and with each thrust of his tongue, you felt yourself building towards an intense climax. His fingers expertly played with your clit, heightening the sensations coursing through your body.

The tension in the room became almost palpable, thick with the air of anticipation and desire.

Cillian moved his tongue in rhythmic patterns, alternating between gentle licks and fierce sucking, masterfully bringing you closer and closer to the edge. Your breath came in shallow gasps, and your skin flushed from the intense pleasure coursing through your body.

"Cillian," you groaned, your fingers digging into the sheets, clutching them with white knuckles. His name seemed to echo in the room, a soft mantra of longing, as your body twitched and sighed in response to his skilled ministrations.

"Fuck, you're so wet," he growled, pulling away to give himself a moment to catch his breath. His fingers dipped into your slippery folds, then his tongue followed suit, lapping up the juices pooling on your lower lips. Your legs trembled with excitement, a dull throbbing pulsing throughout your core.

"Look at you," he whispered, his fingers playing with your clit once more, sending fresh waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

"So fucking hot" he groaned as you arched your back, helplessly surrendering to his touch. His fingers delved deeper, finding your G-spot, hitting it with precision, making you cry out in ecstasy.

"Ah! Cillian," you whimpered, your entire body shuddering with pleasure. His hand moved away momentarily only to return, two fingers penetrating your wetness. He moved them in and out with ease, his other hand holding your hips steady.

"Are you going to squirt for me?" Cillian teased, smirking as he continued his masterful ministrations. You nodded, too far gone to answer verbally. The intensity of the sensations overwhelmed you, a crescendo of pleasure building within your core. "That's it, baby, let go," he encouraged, his own desire mirroring yours.

He positioned himself, placing a pillow under your hips, opening you wider for his viewing pleasure. He began to penetrate you with his tongue, his mouth forming a tight seal around your entrance.

Your breath caught in your throat, the sensation sending shockwaves through your body. With each thrust of his tongue, your arousal increased, a powerful pressure building within your core. His expertise was undeniable, his skill impeccable.

"Oh, God," you cried out, arching your back. His hands held your hips steady, ensuring that you remained perfectly aligned for his attentions. The sensations escalated rapidly, spiraling out of control until, suddenly, you felt an intense pleasure and warmth, almost like you were wetting yourself. You cried out, gasping for air, your body shaking uncontrollably.

"That's it baby. Fuck that's hot," Cillian groaned, fingering your g-spot still as he had brought you to a powerful climax while watching you drench the sheets beneath you.

Your mind was reeling from the intensity of the experience, your body limp with exhaustion yet satisfied beyond measure.

"Was it as good for you as it was for me?" you panted, feeling both proud and self-conscious at the same time. Cillian smiled, stroking your hair tenderly.

"For me, it was even better," he said as he leaned in and kissed you deeply, his tongue tracing your lips, reminding you of the powerful connection you shared.

"I loved watching you squirt for the first time," he murmured, running his fingers through your sweaty hair. You giggled nervously, trying to process the intensity of the encounter.

"It looks like I have wet the bed," you said embarrassed, looking down at the mess you made.

"No, it looks like you enjoyed yourself," Cillian replied, a wicked grin on his face before whispering into your ear.

"But don't think I will let you rest just yet," he added, playfully pinching your bottom cheek. His hands began roaming over your body again, eliciting another shiver of excitement from you.

"Get on your hands and knees for me," he commanded, his voice a mix of dominance and tenderness. You complied without hesitation, already knowing what was about to come.

Cillian positioned himself behind you, his large hands cupping your breasts gently. As he squeezed and fondled them, you moaned softly, unable to contain your desire. He nibbled on your earlobe, whispering dirty words into your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

"So wet for me," he growled, rubbing his erection against the wet folds of your pussy, his cock seeking entrance.

"I will fuck this wet little pussy of yours first and then I will claim your ass," he whispered in your ear, his voice rough with desire. You quivered at his words, your body craving his touch.

Cillian positioned himself behind you, his hands firmly gripping your hips. He lined up his hard cock with your wet entrance, the tip pressing against your inner walls. With one swift thrust, he entered you, filling you completely.

You gasped, your body adjusting to his size, taking him fully. His hips pumped forward, his pace slow but steady, each movement causing your entire body to react.

"God, how can you be so fucking tight," he groaned, his brow furrowed with effort as he pushed further inside. His arms wrapped around you, holding you close as he buried himself deeper, your cries of passion muffled by his powerful frame. Your muscles contracted involuntarily, meeting his thrusts, pushing him deeper into your depths.

"Please fuck me harder," you begged, urging him onward, driven by the unrelenting desire that consumed you both. Cillian obliged, picking up the pace, each forceful thrust driving him deeper into your depths.

"God, you are such a good girl, begging for my cock," he groaned, the words dripping with desire. His powerful hips pounded into you, filling you with his possession. His grip on your hips tightened, forcing you to meet his thrusts, riding the wave of his relentless passion.

Your eyes rolled back in your head, pleasure coursing through your veins as your entire body shook with each impact. "More!" you screamed, desperate for release.

"Is that what you want? More?" Cillian demanded, his voice gravelly with lust.

He pulled out, only to slam back in, hitting the perfect spot inside you that caused you to cry out. The raw intensity of the moment was indescribable, leaving you both on the brink of complete collapse.

As you both reached your peak, Cillian gripped your hips tightly, driving himself even deeper into your pussy. The world around you disappeared, replaced by the relentless waves of pleasure crashing over you both. The sound of your ragged breathing filled the air, punctuated by your screams of pleasure.

"Do you like me fucking your young little pussy?"

Cillian asked, his tone filled with dominance. You nodded eagerly, biting your lip in anticipation.

"I am more than twice your age and here you are, letting me use you like this,"

he murmured, his words a mix of admiration and domination.

You blushed at his words, but couldn't help the growing excitement that pooled in your stomach.

"Now lets see if you can take two of my fingers in your ass and my cock in your pussy,"

Cillian said, his tone dark and commanding.

You swallowed nervously, your heart racing. This was your first time engaging in such activities, but you wanted to please him, so you took a deep breath and nodded bravely as Cillian continued to thrust in and out of your wetness.

"Maybe one finger first?" you suggested

tentatively, your voice barely audible above the sounds of your bodies moving together. Cillian chuckled, his hands caressing your ass, feeling the smoothness of your skin beneath his palms.

"Well, we'll start with one, then," he agreed, his voice low and velvety before reaching for the bottle of lubricant he had bought with him.

After applying generous amounts on both his fingers and your entrance, he gently eased the first digit inside you.

The sudden intrusion sent shivers throughout your body, both from the sensation and the act itself. You let out a gasp, clutching at the sheets beneath you, trying to remain steady despite the foreign sensation. Cillian watched you closely, observing your reaction to every move he made. His other hand held your hip, giving you something to hold onto as he continued to prepare you for his entry.

"Good girl," he cooed as he pushed his finger in and out of your anal cavity, while continuing to fuck your pussy.

"You feel so tight and wet," he groaned, burying his face in your neck, enjoying the feel of your body moving underneath him.

Your eyes were wide with fear and excitement, your heart pounding in your chest as you tried to absorb all the sensations.

"It feels strange," you confessed, a mixture of embarrassment and pride lacing your words.

"It will feel good soon, I promise," Cillian said, pulling out his finger and adding a second, stretching you further.

You whimpered in response, your body trembling slightly from the sensation. He kept up a slow rhythm, his fingers working in tandem with his cock, creating a new level of stimulation.

"You are doing well, just relax," he groaned, his voice rough with arousal. You nodded frantically, unable to find the words to express your emotions.

"I'm going to fill you now," he warned, the promise of his impending entry into your rectum making your insides clench with anticipation just as he pulled his cock out of your pussy.

"Is it going to hurt?" you asked timidly, unsure of what to expect from the experience. Cillian stroked your hair gently, calming you with his touch.

"It will at the start, but just remember to breathe, and it won't hurt too much," he assured you while lubricating his cock and lining himself up with your anus.

"Are you ready?" he asked, giving you one last chance to change your mind.

You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath to calm yourself. "Yes," you finally responded, opening your eyes and looking up at him with determination. Cillian smiled, admiring your courage.

"That's my brave girl," he praised, his voice husky with appreciation. Gently, he pushed his thick length into your tight hole, his cockhead teasing the rim before slipping in.

You felt a sharp pain, followed by an intense fullness that threatened to consume you entirely. The muscles of your anus clenched around him, trying to expel him, but Cillian remained patient, waiting for your body to accept him. You cried out, overwhelmed by the foreign sensation.

"Breathe, baby," he commanded, his deep voice echoing around you, reassuring. "You're doing great," he praised.

Taking a deep breath, you calmed yourself, trying to focus on the pleasurable sensations building within you.

Cillian began to move slowly, his hips undulating with each thrust, driving his cock deeper into your ass. The initial discomfort gave way to a pleasurable ache, as you adjusted to his size and rhythm.

"Are you okay?" he asked, concern evident in his voice. You nodded vigorously, your lips parted, breath coming in short bursts. The sensation was unlike anything you had ever experienced before, yet it felt incredibly liberating.

The intense pressure and fullness that accompanied Cillian's movements inside you caused a mix of pleasure and pain, but somehow, it was all addictive.

You found yourself yearning for more as your body started to adapt to the new sensations. With each stroke, you could feel yourself melting underneath him, losing track of everything except the primal dance between your bodies.

"God your ass is so tight," Cillian growled, his voice rough with desire. Your eyes met his, seeing the fire burning in them. It was the same look he had when he first entered you, a raw, unadulterated hunger that seemed to consume him.

He picked up the pace, pushing himself harder into your body, driving you wild with pleasure. Each movement made you moan, your body quaking with the intensity of the sensations. You threw your head back, lost in the sensual chaos that enveloped you both.

"You are taking me so well, my beautiful little angel," Cillian whispered, kissing your neck and nibbling on your earlobe. His voice was husky, tinged with affection and arousal.

"I-I don't know how I'm doing this," you replied, your voice shaky with emotion.

"You're doing amazingly," he affirmed, his hands stroking your back and shoulders in comfort.

"Do you want me to cum in your ass?" Cillian asked, his voice heavy with anticipation. You hesitated, uncertain of whether you were ready for that final step. He waited patiently, allowing you to make up your mind.

"Yes," you finally answered, taking a deep breath.

Cillian smiled broadly, his satisfaction evident in his eyes. He moved his hips faster, increasing the pressure within your ass. Your body reacted instinctively, squeezing around him, urging him to reach his peak.

"Tell me that you want me to fill your ass with cum," Cillian ordered, his voice gravelly with need. You nodded fervently, feeling the power of submission wash over you.

"Fuck my ass and fill it with your cum!" you begged, arching your back as his forceful thrusts sent sparks of pleasure coursing through your entire being.

"Ahhh, yes, that's it," Cillian grunted, the sound of pleasure escaping him as his balls tightened in anticipation.

"I'm going to cum inside you now, fuck," he informed you, his voice thick with desire. "And you are going to take it like a good girl," he added, his tone leaving no room for argument. You nodded eagerly, your arousal heightening as you realized you would be filled with his seed.

Cillian positioned himself at the perfect angle, allowing his penis to push even deeper. Your eyes widened in surprise at the unexpected sensation, sending another wave of pleasure coursing through your body.

As he approached his climax, Cillian's hips moved rapidly, his movements becoming erratic.

His grip on your hips tightened, as he pounded relentlessly into your body. You felt a surge of power and dominance course through you, knowing that you were satisfying someone as passionate as Cillian. Your own body responded, spasms rippling through your core as you neared orgasm.

"Oh god, I'm going to cum!" you cried out, his name escaping your lips as you surrendered completely to the sensations wracking your body.

Cillian felt your walls convulse around him, heralding your imminent release. As he drove into you one last time, he let go, filling you with his essence as you screamed in ecstasy. The heat of his seed mingling with yours was enough to send your senses reeling, your entire body thrumming with a sense of accomplishment and pride.

Cillian collapsed onto you, his weight pressing you into the mattress. His warm breath caressed your neck, his arms wrapping possessively around you.

He then pulled out and reached for your ass cheeks, pulling them apart, exposing your tight hole. His face showed both lust and adoration as he admired your newly claimed territory.

"Push some of that cum out for me," he demanded, his voice hoarse from arousal. You did as instructed while Cillian gently massaged your ass to encourage his semen to escape. He watched intently, appreciating your obedience.

Feeling your tender ass beneath him, Cillian then traced his fingers along the contours of your inner thighs, eliciting small moans from you. "I can't wait to do this to you again when we are in Cork together," he whispered before bringing his cum soaked finger up to your mouth.

"Now open," he commanded softly, his eyes filled with tenderness.

You obeyed without hesitation, your tongue darting out to taste his offering.

"My beautiful girl," he murmured, satisfied with your eagerness. "Come here," he ordered, rolling onto his side to bring you closer.

You nestled against his chest, your head resting on his shoulder, while his hand gently stroked your hair.

The comforting sound of his heartbeat filled the silence between you, its steady rhythm mirroring the gentle rise and fall of your chest. Cillian's fingers traced delicate patterns across your skin, his touch both loving and possessive. You lay there, listening to the beat of his heart, feeling secure in his embrace just as, suddenly, his phone rang.

Cillian groaned, reaching for his phone. "Sorry, babe," he said apologetically, answering the call before searching for his clothes, which were still scattered across the floor.

"I am sorry. I have to go. Danielle is looking for me," Cillian eventually said after he hung up the phone. His expression was regretful, but you understood the situation. "It's fine," you offered, attempting to hide your disappointment.

He leaned down to give you a lingering kiss on the forehead. "I promise, babe. I will definitely make up for it soon," he whispered, his voice full of tenderness. Then, he quickly got dressed, giving you one last look before heading out the door.

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#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy x you #cillian fanfic #cillianmurphy #cillian murhpy #cillian x fem!reader #cillian x reader

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hobiebrownismygod · 5 months

Note

Hiiii! So I don’t usually put in requests but I read your fic where Hobie is trying to get to know secretive Y/N- and since Y/N was said to have never took off their mask, I was wondering if you could write about that same secretive Y/N finally showing their face?

Writing requests even when anon is spooky 😭

This is a great addition to the original fic, thank you for requesting!! <3

Hobie Brown x GN!Reader Mysterious Part 2

<PREV

MASTERLIST

WC: <1k

A/N: Sorry it's taking me so long to get to requests, midterms are kicking my ass 😭. I swear I'll try to get the rest of the requests in my inbox out as soon as I can <3

___________________________________________________________

"Earth-138, right?"

"Tha's the place"

You typed in the coordinates onto your dimensional watch, before snapping your wrist towards the area in front of you, opening up the portal that would take you into Hobie's dimension.

You'd been trying to convince him to take you to his dimension since you'd met him, curious about where he came from. After spending the past week constantly hearing about the 'corrupted government' and the 'wanking pigs' that ruled there, you were even more interested in seeing the place with your own eyes.

You stepped through the portal, falling into what must've been Hobie's house- well, not necessarily a house. Were they on a boat?

"What the-" you looked out the window to see that his house was situated on a body of water, probably some sort of lake or canal. "Oh yeah, I forgot to tell ya-" he said as he jumped through his own portal, landing in front of you and taking in your surprised expression. "-I stay on this houseboat here."

He gave the wall a pat, smiling before he looked back at you. "Her name's Stella."

"Why Stella?"

He shrugged, shoving his hands into the pockets of his vest before approaching you sheepishly. "I liked the name."

You snorted under your breath, rolling your eyes at him before taking another glance around. "So...you gonna show me around? Or am I just gonna stand here awkwardly?"

"Right, right-" he said quickly, beginning to walk towards what you guessed was his bedroom. His eyes widened for a moment before he looked back at you. "...wait out here for a moment. Jus' needa tidy some things up" he disappeared behind the door, leaving you standing in the hallway, arms folded across your chest.

You couldn't help but smile slightly under your mask. As you leaned back against the wall, you realized that you were feeling a little stuffy. It would've been much more comfortable to take off your mask, but you decided against it.

Why let him see your face? It wasn't important. It's not like seeing your face would matter...or did it? What if he thought you looked weird? What if there was something about your face he didn't like? Why take off the mask when there was so much that could go wrong?

"Overthinking at its finest" you scoffed to yourself, embarrassed by the thoughts running through your mind. "Pathetic."

The door swung open and you jumped, turning your attention to a slightly sweaty Hobie, who'd obviously just spent the last few minutes hurriedly tossing his mess to the side. "Come in." he said with a lopsided grin, gesturing for you to walk in.

His room was...amazing. It was like walking into a different world. There wasn't an bit of blank on the wall, every square inch being covered by some sort of poster, most of them being of various bands and artists, one of them being who you assumed was his universe's Gwen Stacy, with blonde spikes and a drumstick in her hand.

In the corner was his spectacular electric guitar, adorned in all the random stickers he'd found over the years, and next to it were various other instruments, a bass guitar, an acoustic guitar, even a ukulele next to his own set of drumsticks.

He looked over your shoulder, leaning in slightly. "So? What d'ya think?" he asked quietly, enjoying your surprise. "It's...awesome." you said softly, glancing over at him.

"It's a little messy-" he kicked a magazine under his bed, hiding it from your view, "-but it's...well, it's me."

"inconsistent?" You asked sarcastically, shooting him a sly grin.

"You could say that." he laughed, bouncing down onto his bed, that you were surprised he could even sleep in considering his size compared to its. Probably an old bed.

"You ready to see the outside world now?" he asked with an eyebrow raise, waiting for you to finish staring at all his magazines. "Uh, yeah. Sure." you replied, making your way back towards the door.

Suddenly, his arm pulled you back, preventing your from leaving. "Woah, woah, you're not going out like that!" He had a cocky look on his face, tilting his head. "Excuse me?" You asked him confusedly, staring up at his mischievous grin.

"I'm telling you, if you go out dressed like a superhero, you'll be shot on sight." he tapped his chin in a mocking way before glancing back at you. "I wonder what we can do to prevent that..."

Realizing what he was getting at, you took a step back, tone turning annoyed. "I won't let myself get shot." you said harshly. "I'm Spider-man."

"Yeah, but you won't exactly be able to enjoy anything either, eh?" he replied, ignoring your hesitation. "Come on, let's just be normal civilians for a little while hmm? Whad'ya say?"

"This is all just a ploy to get me to take off my mask, isn't it?" you groaned, looking away from him and shaking your head. "Depends. Is it working?"

"I'm not gonna do it."

"Come on!"

"Not happening."

"Just for a little while. It's not like you're horribly disfigured or somet'ing, right? It'll be fine!" He was pleading at this point, too curious to let go of his chance to see your face. After all, he'd been planning this out for a while. Since he'd met you just a week or two ago, he'd decided that he'd make it his goal to see your face one day, and now...he was so close.

He didn't know why he wanted to know what you looked like so badly. It's not like it would really matter. His curiosity however, outweighed the impulse control, and he found himself completely obsessed with what you might look like under there.

You were probably gorgeous.

"Please? I promise, it'll be fun!"

"I don't want to." you replied softly, biting the inside of your cheek and folding your arms over your chest. "Why not?" He matched your tone, leaning down slightly to see you eye to eye.

"I just...I don't know..." you hesitated, looking back at him. He looked so welcoming, reassuring smile on his face, a flicker of curiosity in his eyes...he wouldn't judge. You knew he wouldn't.

So you decided, for the first time since you'd joined the Spider Society, to show him your face.

He stared, eyes wide.

You flinched slightly, barely able to make eye contact, mask in your hand as you cowered under his gaze. It was so...awkward, for lack of a better word. You didn't know how to react to his scanning.

He continued to stare.

"Hello?" You waved your hand in his face, a slight smile appearing on yours. "You there?"

"hi." he replied, his voice breathy and his gaze unwavering. "You're....you're-" he stuttered.

"not what you expected?" you asked quietly, face falling.

"Perfect."

You looked back up at him, eyebrows furrowing in disbelief. "You're joking. Stop playing with me-"

"Wow" he interrupted, standing up straight, a wide grin on his face. "Just...bloody hell, you're gorgeous."

"Can you shut up?" you laughed, shoving his arm. He caught your arm, pulling you towards him slightly. "You know, I think the wait was worth it." he said quietly, unable to suppress the bashful smile spreading across his face. "You're even more perfect than I'd have expected, love."

"You're funny." you replied, shaking your head. "Now can we go-?"

"Yeah, yeah, we'll go. After I stare at you for just a few more minutes."

"Are you being serious?" You asked with a raised eyebrow, holding back a laugh.

"I'm being dead serious. You better never put that bloody mask on in front of me again, you hear?" he said, chuckling under his breath. "I wanna see this face every day from now on."

"Whatever you say" you replied sarcastically, rubbing the back of your neck in an attempt to stop the heat from spreading across your face.

"Actually, you know what'd be even better? If I'm the only one in the entirety of HQ to know what you look like." his eyes widened slightly. "That's right...yeah! I'm the only one that gets to see this pretty face from now on, a'right?"

You laughed softly. "You're the only one I'd trust to see it anyways."

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son1c · 1 year

Text

if you like robots so much, then maybe you should become one :/c

falling stars fic masterpost

There was no escape from the tank. Sonic was stuck like a fish in a bowl, and he didn't even have the comfort of colorful pebbles to help ease his claustrophobia. Not that it would've mattered, since the cables at the top of the tank soon became alight with electricity, and the Roboticizer roared to life.

The feeling started in his eyes. They were as wide as dinner plates when the electricity coursed through them. It was like they were being peeled away and replaced by something else, something colder. Something that glowed dimly through the bubbles of the tank.

The feeling quickly spread to his nose. His ears. The rest of his body.

It was cold. So cold.

By the time it was over, Sonic couldn't even shiver. Temperature wasn't even a blip on his radar anymore, he was so incapable of registering it. His body was no longer flesh, fur, and bone. Now, it was metal, circuits, and wires. He saw the world through a red-tinted screen. At first, the image was fuzzy, but it quickly sharpened, the pixels that made up his environment rendered in crisp HD.

He saw a motobug with a star sticker on its forehead cowering by the door. He saw Doctor Eggman standing on the other side of the glass, grinning at him triumphantly. Sonic stared back at the man, the gears in his head beginning to turn.

Then, he realized something. He wasn't in pain anymore. The lingering ache that had been holding him down for days had been obliterated, and he was left feeling strong. Powerful. Like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders--or, more accurately, his leg. And the person responsible was standing right in front of him. Examining him through those round glasses and down that big, long nose.

Doctor Eggman.

Sonic… was supposed to listen to him. That's right. He was supposed to do whatever the Doctor said. As a part of the Eggman Empire, it was Sonic's job to help see its conquest through. And he would. He would do it. It was what he was made for. Yeah, he remembered now. Serving the Empire was what he was always meant to do.

The water drained from the tank, and the panel at the top slid open.

Eggman said, "Well? Do you plan on staying in there forever? Front and center, if you please."

Sonic's shoes sparked to life, and he flipped out of the tank in one swift motion. He stood in front of the doctor, still dripping, with his head tilted upwards. Even with the extra inch or two his new metal shoes added to his height, Eggman was still so much taller than him.

"Remarkable," Eggman breathed. He was admiring his handiwork. "Perhaps this old machine has held up better than I thought. How fortunate for you, Sonic… since the alternative would've been much uglier."

Sonic caught movement out of the corner of his eye. Immediately, he snapped his head toward the door, and only just barely managed to catch the back of Metal Sonic as he angrily flew away.

With a wave of his hand, Eggman said, "Oh, pay him no mind. You know how it is with look-alikes, don't you? They tend to become quite envious over time."

Suddenly, Eggman stepped away from Sonic. The doctor's attention was now on the motobug that was still cowering by the door. He shot it a loathsome glare. "Now, to take care of that miserable little traitor…"

The motobug curled in on itself when Eggman approached. It knew what was coming. Deactivation. Or dismantlement. Or something else that any sensible robot would be wise to quiver in fear of. It covered its eyes with its claws, unable to look at the disappointment on the doctor's face.

However, right as Eggman was about to lay a hand on the little robot, Sonic appeared in between them. He had crossed the room in the blink of an eye, so fast that neither the doctor nor the motobug had even seen him move at all. Now, he was standing protectively over the little robot, his glowing eyes boring into their leader like hot coals.

"What do you think you're doing, Sonic?" Eggman hissed.

"Easy, sir," Sonic said. His voice was covered in a layer of robotic vocal fry, and far too flat. "I'm just lookin' out for the Empire."

Frowning, Eggman leaned back. There was a hint of genuine curiosity in his narrowed eyes, but it was well hidden. "I don't remember telling you to do that," he said.

Sonic's heroic nature was, of course, common knowledge to Eggman. But to see it translated to--and even directed toward--his own robots wasn't something the doctor was expecting. And it was a strange sight to see. After all, none of his badniks had teamwork programmed into their code. None of them cared about each other.

The only thing that mattered was that they were loyal to Eggman himself. That was the driving force motivating each and every one of them. And Sonic, now a Robian, should be no different.

Should be.

"I- I know," Sonic said quietly. He looked down, the new programming in his head fighting against the will of his heart. It was hard for him to get his next words out. "It… won't happen again. I'm s- suh- sorry."

The motobug didn't dare move. It stayed perfectly still, every mechanism in its body locked in place while Eggman stared down at it over Sonic's shoulder. Slowly, the doctor's expression changed from resentment to rapacity.

Eggman stroked his mustache. He was calm now. He'd realized how to take advantage of this. "Actually, Sonic," he began, "it would save me a great deal of resources if you protected my badniks. You have no idea how expensive it is to replace them! And money doesn't grow on trees, you know. It's hard work printing it all myself."

Sonic looked up. His processors, which had just been whirring loudly from the war being waged inside of his mind, suddenly shushed. He smiled. "I'll keep 'em safe. Promise," he said. The faintest glimmer of emotion shone through his robotic voice: gratitude. "I won't let you down, Doctor Eggman, sir."

Eggman spun around on his heel. He started down the hallway, the sound of his footsteps echoing down the long corridor. His blood red coat trailed behind him, a stark reminder of what he could have done to the motobug. If he'd wanted to.

Finally, the motobug allowed itself to relax. It was lucky to be online right now.

After letting his own shoulders slump, Sonic turned around to face the motobug. He winked at it with his electronic eyes. "Don't worry, little buddy," the Robian whispered. "I've got your back!"

"SONIC!"

Hurriedly, Sonic followed after Doctor Eggman. But not too hurriedly--he didn't disappear from view like he had when the motobug's life was in danger. He just jogged down the hallway at a respectable pace before falling into step at the doctor's side.

He didn't notice Metal Sonic watching him from the shadows. And he was too focused on Eggman's voice to hear when the look-alike exited the Scrambled Brain Bowl. He and the doctor continued on through the complex, unbothered.

While they walked, Sonic thought about how good it felt to have two functional legs again. He was thankful that Doctor Eggman had fixed the broken one for him. The Robian cherished it--cherished his freedom of motion.

For the next few days, Eggman kept a close eye on Sonic. The Robian could always feel the doctor's hawkish gaze on the back of his neck while he worked. But the brand new code swirling around his mind told him not to worry about it. And Eggman kept him too busy for any doubts to creep in.

So, he didn't ask questions. He served the Empire.

He ignored his whispering heart.

But the static in Sonic's mind was building. It grew louder every time he listened to Eggman. And it grew more insistent every time he ran an errand for him, or took down a G.U.N. drone that had wandered too close to Scrap Brain Base.

It pulled on his heart like a drawstring every time he was reminded to stay away from the deepest part of the basement.

No amount of un-OSHA-regulated labor could kill the part of him that was fighting. Fighting hard against Eggman's control. And as the days turned into weeks, the static plaguing his mind became impossible to ignore. Now, it was deafening.

At the same time, Eggman stopped ordering Sonic to follow him around everywhere. The doctor probably assumed his Roboticization was flawless. That he could be trusted not to rebel. So, his leash got a little longer. And Sonic was left alone with his thoughts more often. Thoughts that oftentimes, didn't match up with the programming that had been drilled into his brain.

Thoughts that he didn't belong here. Thoughts that he was forgetting about something.

Thoughts that he should really just go and check out that room in the basement, the one that was locked behind a heavy blast door.

Sonic groaned. All of these thoughts were giving him a headache, and that shouldn't even be possible. Annoyed, he kicked his feet. They were hanging off the edge of the Brain Bowl, because he was sitting on the very tip of one of the Bowl's mustache spikes. The movement made him feel a little better, but it wasn't enough to get rid of the static that was ringing in his ears.

Beside Sonic was the motobug with the star on its head. It balanced expertly on the thin strip of steel, having gotten used to Sonic's weird hang out spots by now. It looked at him curiously.

Sonic smiled. Maybe a little thinner than usual. "Just thinkin'," he told the motobug.

The little robot kept looking at him. It beeped once.

Sonic rubbed the back of his neck. "What else? About his vileness, Doctor Eggman. Duh."

The motobug beeped again.

Sonic pinched one side of his mouth and looked away from the little robot that could always, somehow, see right through him. "Alright, alright. You caught me. But it's nothin', bud. Seriously."

The motobug wasn't convinced, and neither was Sonic. But there was no more time to talk about it, because an alarm suddenly started going off in the Robian's head. His eyes flashed red.

[INTRUDER ALERT. IMMEDIATE ACTION REQUIRED.]

[LOCATION: BB-F3.]

An intruder? That was different. But Sonic's directive remained the same: protect the Base and its badniks.

In a flash, Sonic stood up, hopped over the motobug, and slid down the roof of the Brain Bowl. He made his way inside and up to the third floor landing in ten seconds flat, his thrusters allowing him to skip the elevator entirely. Once there, he looked around, but the landing was empty. The only things up there were benches and tables, and a few spare tool boxes.

Sonic frowned. Could it have been a false alarm?

The thought had barely finished processing when he noticed it--something shiny on the table at the far end of the landing. Sonic bounded over to it and found that it was a card of some sort. He turned it over and was confused to see a bat printed on it with the words "Thank you" written over top in pretty cursive letters.

A voice from behind Sonic said, "Hey there, Blue. Nice of you to drop by. Mind lending me a hand? I'm looking for something special, and I heard it's stashed around here somewhere!"

Sonic froze. The static screamed in his ears.

Blue.

His sensors warned him of an incoming projectile, and he snapped out of his daze. He whirled around and caught the boot that was about to slam into his head with one of his hands. It belonged to a bat Mobian with white fur. And on her wrists, she wore two gold bracelets.

Sonic recognized her. From the photograph. The photograph that Doctor Eggman had shown him and…

Him and…

Sonic's heart tore desperately at the code that had his mind in a chokehold. It shuddered. Wavered. But remained intact.

The bat wrenched her leg free of Sonic's grasp. Then, she used the momentum to send a sweeping kick at his feet, attempting to knock him over. But Sonic recovered fast, and used his rocket boosters to dodge the kick and flip over her head. From there, he grabbed her by the arm, and threw her across the landing.

She used her wings to stop herself from crashing into the wall. But she was slower than Sonic, and he caught up to her before she had the chance to recover. He dug his claws into her shoulders and slammed her into the wall, and his momentum carried them all the way through it and into the room on the other side.

It was the room with the big green tank. The room he had been reactivated in, a little over a month ago.

The bat used her feet to push Sonic off of her. Then, she jumped up, and dusted herself off. "Wow!" she said, her eyes sparkling. "Not even Metal Sonic was able to get in a move like that. You can really do it like the True Blue himself!"

Sonic stared at her. The static was so loud. So loud.

Finally loud enough to unhook the claws of Eggman's nefarious programming from his mind.

"You," he gasped. Like he had just come up for air. "You're the one who stole Shadow's inhibitor rings!"

#falling stars au #thank god sonic has an iron will or else this could have gone so much worse <3 #anyways writing his dialogue for this part gave me the willies. LOL

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crying-fantasies · 6 months

Text

In acceptance

Masterlist

Part 1 | part 2

"So you aren't from the stars?" Jazz almost laughs, he chooses to keep silence while smiling, maybe a snicker did get out of his voice box, looking at you and some telescope he helped to get back together, at first you didn't tell him why you wanted it so bad, but then you said: "I want to see your home, Cybertron!"

He was happy with you enthusiasm, still, he didn't want to see you sad if you, naturally, didn't find it, "Cybertron isn't there, sweetspark", and that's how your question came to be, so he had to explain.

"Cybertron is pretty far, far away" the idea made him sad, moving his servos to put more distance and make his point present and for distraction of your sadness, "we can't see it from here"

"Not even with this?" You showed him your little telescope, Jazz kept on his smile, running a digit on your little head, you were trying to make him smile, truly do it.

"If my ol' pal Percy was here, I'm more than sure he would've loved to show you" you made a little sound, hands on his armor and almost climbing on him, Jazz let you do your do, it wasn't the first time you did it and he learned to put his servos at a certain distance to prevent any accident, he was grateful in the way you shook your shoes before putting them on his armor.

"Percy seems to be a good bot" you took seat with ease, recharging on his mid section, he could feel your warm body, how you kept on looking at the sky.

"Indeed" helped you, using a digit to direct you to the correct way, Cybertron may be hundreds of light years away but that was the correct direction.

One he still remembers and will possibly never forget.

"Do you miss your home?" The lense was now directed at him, you got him thinking, he did miss Cybertron, but the Cybertron from before war.

He wasn't going to tell you about gruesome war details, you were a being born and raised on peace, Optimus would never let you or other humans be tainted by their war if he could do something about it first.

But it was happening already.

"I do, there I had a big habsuit unit with all my favorite instruments"

"Like your electric bass"

"Like my Aghartan electro bass, uhum, I'd many, an' sometimes I had time to play some, play with the cords and even reunite with friends to make music together"

It was easy, talk to you have always been easy and comfortable once the usual screaming died down, you were little then, young even to human standard, full of curiosity for the world around you and the one Jazz told you about, a world full of mechs like and unlike him, "some angry like Ratchet?" "Some like Ratch, but don't call him that, he'll get sad", and all the great things his people did, every great invention done to improve the life of every bot around "Like what Wheeljack did yesterday?" "Yes, but without the fire and the explosion"

You were full of questions he was willing to answer and you were full of attention and understanding he was grateful to have, more than once Jazz thought he was kind of making you see things way too different, in some way? He wasn't sure, but it was endearing when you tried to give him a rusting piece of metal after he told you about how he liked rust sticks and how those were famous snacks back in Cybertron.

Jazz couldn't consume it, but he was grateful nonetheless.

Time moved on, because that's what it does, Jazz left you for what seemed to be a few days, like you called it, and when he came back you weren't little anymore, well, you were indeed little, but not as he remembered while he used his servo to compare how you changed, but you didn't let him do more than use his scanner and HUD while getting away from his most physical iterations.

"Nice upgrades there" you looked embarrassed, he wasn't sure why, you had little things on your face which you tried to cover, you didn't have those before, "a nice surprise to be sure", you looked mortified by his words and he should've been prepared for your hormone induced changes and how to handle them.

"Don't lie, this is horrible" you truly disliked your upgrades, and he tried to understand your point of view, he hold a digit to you and your response was almost instantaneous, little hands taking his servo, looking puzzled when you saw a little thing on it, "What is this?"

"Just a lil' something, a comm' line specially for you, so that we can talk al' night long" he pointed to his audials, and you took the thing to your ear, at that very same moment he took on his wheels and put some distance, you looked confused for a moment but then you heard his voice directly on your ear, "I missed you, sweetspark"

Your face was red, and Jazz laughed softly at your wide eyes, looking at his alt-mode almost mesmerized, shiny by tears he knew, and hoped, were of happiness, "Happy 20 earth orbital cycles".

Your laugh made him laugh, even when you didn't do it as much as before, at least you smiled for him and he could hear your happiness from the communicator.

Then, things got darker, uglier by every mean, and he didn't want you dragged in between all the spilled energon and blood dripping from his servos, but taking distance wasn't enough, it was never enough, everything they touched, everything their war touched was indeed bound to be destroyed in front of them, in front of him, and even when Jazz wasn't there to see for himself you being ripped from life he felt it, silence filling the space around him, making difficult even his movement, radio silence and interference that he tried to keep away with every song you've said you loved in front of him or at least hummed near him, always being mindful of you and in what you could talk next time he saw you or got to call you.

But now he couldn't reach you, all he had was music, songs to fill the void, and oh boy, does he has a very long masterlist, all thanks to you, but is your very same existence that got the silence there, like a menacing presence waiting for the pause in between the words to drag him down again.

When he was a younger spark Jazz liked to think that things, even in the worst days, could take a turn for the better, well, on those days the worst that could happen to him were a disgruntled mech trying to make a ruckus in the streets and his job was to take care of it as the police, or the days he forgot to pay a bill, something that at the moment was almost extenuating or stressing at worst, daydreaming about being a musician.

Now, those things were like jokes when he finally returns to earth's surface, looking at the devastation around, at the lack of bodies or frames lacking of life or spark, everything was consumed and, at the end, destroyed with their killer.

He helps with the reconstruction, he wants to get his servos on hope and hang there for dear life, with time Primus does have mercy on him and he gets hope, finding friends he thought were now lost, humans and bots alike, he is happy while he moves with the group of founded people and bots that is getting bigger with time, helping move the debris away in search for more survivors or to mourn whoever they find too late.

It's not until he gets near your house that his hope, once again, faltered and also incremented, he has been in this place so many times, be it die or dead missions searching for cons, be it little escapades with you sleeping soundly over his chassis on his alt-mode while music is playing or singing.

Be it just you both while looking at the few stars on the polluted sky.

Is a place full of memories, some that attack him even when he doesn't want them now, not when he gets a distress signal being showed on his internal computer, almost making him go back by the surprise, last thing he thought to see when he put a pede on your city was to get a distress signal from you communication device, the very same one he gave you years ago.

He doesn't listen, Jazz is a bot with a mission once again when he gets to where the distress signal in coming from, it's weak, almost not existing, but he holds on hope for dear life itself again while his servos get the debris away, shouting out your name and expecting you to call out for his designation.

Still, when his friends get to him is to take him away, telling him that it's fine when his servo circuits are again so weak Jazz can't get back on his pedes by himself, searching for strength to raise again in Ironhide's arms that are holding him when all he finds is the almost off-line gadget, destroyed beyond repair, finally giving up it's last energy after being found and ceasing any signal.

It was nothing more than a wish, a prayer, that he would find you, and yet again he can't bring himself to smile when he has to look at his group, he feels tired, he feels so tired while looking at all the destruction and he doesn't know if he can keep going.

"Jazz?"

In all honesty, he thinks his brain module really got damaged when he hears your voice, maybe he has really lost it to this point, just like Prowl told him he would when he got first back to earth with an objective on mind, "Numbers don't look good" Prowl has always been direct with this, with him, and it's something Jazz has come to accept and be grateful for because his friend does care, "don't rise your hopes too high" he told Jazz before he smiled back at him, the light on his visor weak enough to be blow off like a candle.

"Hope is the last thing you lose, Prowler"

"Jazz, are you okay?!" You are covered in wounds, dirt and one of your eyes is almost painted red and purple around, one of your arms looks out of place with the group of survivors that looked in the same damaged state, there is dried blood on you and Jazz reminds himself to be careful, to not scare you away like the last time he saw you.

He is running away from Ironhide's grip, who let's him go happily, Jazz is indeed careful, like he has always been with you, but that doesn't stop him from raising you in the air and bring you close with a hug, shielding you from the world with his whole body, to who is he saying never endings thank you's is still a mystery to you, but you still feel every word with his intake pressed to your head while one servo holds it there and the other presses you to his chassis.

You do hug him back, at least with the last good arm you have, and that's what makes you cry in relief and makes him hug you harder.

In the cannon continuity Jazz's human indeed dies, being one of the victims of Unicron and it's Maximals army, Jazz does find what was left and the communicator he gave as a gift, he stays on earth like the comic and tries to cherish the past with friends that he has lost.

In this continuity, in this AU! Jazz is happy, he is reunited with his human that later on is his conjunx, he is creator of three younglings and still very much in love with his conjunx, Jazz gets his happy ending in my AU! Because I adore him and because he deserves it.

#reader insert #x reader #angst #tf mtmte #transformers x reader #transformers #transformers idw #idw transformers #transformers x human reader #idw jazz #g1 jazz #jazz x human reader #jazz x reader #tf jazz

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bakubunny · 3 months

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Denki is a hero and man of action. He is impulsive and can do things without shame. Such as puns, moments of when he does say something smart for once, or when he shows off with his powers. (At least his drawback of being brain fried is less frequent)

But where his shameless behavior really thrives in...is sex. Literally he has no shame and bounds in the bedroom (or anywhere really👀) and he is usually the lazy type, letting you take control and allowing him to be whiny, needy, submissive and high off of lust. His fucked out face is hot and eye catching especially with how messy and unkempt his hair gets. But...Denki at times has a fixation for having you at his mercy😏

One time, he came in the kitchen in nothing but a pair of shorts (no underwear underneath😳👀) and not only did you see his fit body but his hard on. You decided to tease and ignore him. He wasn't having that. It's why you ended up bracing the counter with your hands and your torso while he flicks his dangerous tongue over your clit and puckered hole, holding your thighs harshly and spanking you with electric smacks on your ass to let you know exactly who was in charge today. Your moans and gasp echoed the kitchen walls while he made a shameful mess of you. He took a picture of you and your pussy covered in slick and spit, while your panties were in his short pockets.

"Behave princess or I won't let you cum" and "you want the squad see this picture of how ruined you look" were Denki's way of having you at his mercy. Before he fucked you ruthlessly on the table and edged you on to made you beg for him to let you cum. "Beg for it, pretty girl. Come on, beg or you won't cum." It was all you need to sob and beg until you came all over his cock, loving how much you are squeezing his dick and coating it in your release before he fills you to the brim, painting your walls white. You stay obediently while he inspects your pussy and watching his own cum drip out of you combined with your own. He laps it up and has you open your mouth for a taste and kiss you passionately. "God, I love you so much princess."

(Yeah rare dom Denki has taken me and kept me on a collar and keep me on brainrot as his sub. Sub!Denki is beautiful and amazing but Dom!Denki is a realm of forbidden fruit and euphoria🥵🥵 here is your scripture from the unholy one, Denki Kaminari⚡️⚡️ - Storytime anon)

i’ve been screeching abt pining for dom!denki for a hot minute and this made me warm. like i’m over here fanning myself bc

the best part abt dom!denki is that, sure he can be mean, but he’s more condescendingly sweet and playful than anything. and he’s such a perv in the best way. always groping and grinding into you whenever he wants. he’s subtle about it in public or the company of others, but when you’re alone? if he’s in the room, he’s got his hand under your shirt, down your pants, squeezing your ass, running his hands down your sides and over your hips, whispering playful and teasing words, grinding into you in a way that makes you think he might actually fuck you like he did that one time, but nah. he just wants to touch his pretty girl and give you a kiss… or ten.

#im weak #denkirot is backkkk #kaminari denki #>.<#x reader #aged up characters #bnha #mha #bnha smut #storytime anon

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rowaelinsdaughter · 7 months

Text

𝕳𝖆𝖕𝖕𝖞 𝖇𝖎𝖗𝖙𝖍𝖉𝖆𝖞 (𝕸𝖆𝖓𝖔𝖓 𝖝 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗)

omg, i need holy water,like, did I seriously write this??? well, i did, so please enjoy as much as i did writing this 🫶🏻 sorry if there's any error, english isn't my first language

WARNINGS: smut, fluff (a little bit), iron nails play (?)

WORD COUNT: 1,5 (k)

“I can do it, I can do it, I can do it…No, I can't do it”

“You know Manon would kill me if I was here, right?”

You rolled your eyes and turned to look at Asterin. “I know she would, but I need someone’s opinion on” you pointed to your body “this.”

Asterin rolled his eyes.

“I already told you, you look perfect and Manon will love it” a mischievous smile adorned Asterin's lips “besides, I don't think it will last long.”

You looked in the mirror again and appreciated the black lingerie that adorned your body. Manon loved seeing you in lingerie, it awakened something primal in her. When there were people she was reserved, although she had to keep you close and touch your back or hand so that they knew that you were hers, and that they had no chance of being with her. Besides, who would dare to confront the Queen of Witches? But, when you were both alone? He couldn't stop kissing you, having you close, telling you that he loved you. Although she was always the dominant one and you loved it.

You caressed the straps of the bra, marveling at the softness of the fabric. The top part held your breasts perfectly, the lace was perfect and the bottom part covered only your area, leaving your ass visible. You hesitated again whether to leave it on or not. But it was Manon's birthday. Her 150th birthday to be exact. You were going to do it.

"Ok I'm leaving." Asterin stood up from the chair she had been sitting in while you tried on the different lingerie. He approached you, winked and left.

You grabbed the robe that matched the lingerie and decided to dress up a little more. You made waves in your hair and left it down, creating a perfect waterfall down your back. You decided to wear little makeup and painted your lips a soft red, creating a contrast with your black lingerie.

Manon had to go to a nearby town to listen to people and then try to solve their problems, so to kill time you decided to read a book that you started a long time ago.

It was dusk when you heard Abraxos arrive, you approached the window being careful not to let him see you and there you saw him. She wore her moon-white hair in a braid and her fighting clothes fit perfectly on every part of her body. To surprise her, you decided to go into the bathroom until she arrived.

It wasn't long before you heard the door open and close.

“Yn” Manon looked around the room, confused to not find you anywhere.

You opened the bathroom door a little, careful not to make too much noise and so that she wouldn't find out, and when you saw that her back was to you, you opened the door completely, leaning on the door frame, letting the robe fall a little.

Manon turned around and all rational thought vanished from her mind when she saw you standing there.

You saw how his gaze changed from surprise to lust in a matter of seconds, making a current of electricity run through your entire spine.

Gathering courage you decided to approach her. Manon watched as your hands opened the robe you were wearing, letting it fall to the floor, exposing yourself to her.

He approached you, looking over every part of your body, from your bare feet to your breasts. When she was centimeters away from you and you felt the heat emanating from her body, she approached your ear, and with a voice that he only saved for you when you were in bed, she whispered:

“I'm going to devour every part of your body, I'm going to make you scream my name so loud that the people in the town where I've been will know who makes you feel this way, and I'm going to enjoy my gift every moment. And when dawn comes you won't be able to get out of bed. Have you understood me?”

You swallowed and with a small voice you responded. “Yes, Manon.”

Her hands grabbed your knees and she lifted you up, carrying you to bed. You had never felt more exposed than now, lying on your double bed, she looked over you again. She took out her iron nails, caressing from your neck to your panties, a stain of your arousal present on them. You held your breath, watching a feline smile grace her handsome features as she noticed the stain.

She retracted her nails and tore them out with that strength that characterized her. He threw what was left of them into some corner of the room. Her hands caressed your legs to your sex, a muffled moan left your mouth, waiting for Manon to do something.

She caressed your clitoris and your hips rose involuntarily, controlled by the fire that now ran through your entire body thanks to the attention your lover was giving you. At this, Manon caressed your clit again, this time using a little more pressure, making you moan accompanied by her name.

“Is something wrong, witchling?”

She brought her face closer to your sex and licked from your entrance to your clit, sucking it, drawing those moans from your lips that let Manon know that you were enjoying yourself.

“Shit Manon… Don't stop plea-” You couldn't finish the sentence and a moan louder than the others came from your red lips as you felt her insert two fingers, synchronizing the caresses she gave you with her tongue and the thrusts of her fingers, reaching to that point that made you see the stars.

You heard a growl leave her lips as you felt your walls clench around her fingers. You were close, very close. With one hand you grabbed the sheets and with the other you held her head between your legs, preventing her from getting out of there. But Manon loved to make you beg, with her free hand she pushed your hand away from her head, pulled her fingers out and moved her tongue away from your sex.

"No, please"

She leaned back on her heels and began to undo her clothes, starting with the top. Her jacket, shirt and bra disappeared in some corner of the room. You licked your lips at the sight of her round breasts and pink nipples. Manon, seeing where your gaze was, decided to squeeze them, making your walls tighten.

You stood up, kneeling in front of her, pushed her hands away and began to massage, caressing her nipples with your thumbs. Manon sighed and that was the signal you needed to start licking one of her nipples and continue caressing the other. You notice how her hand caresses your head and with the other she strokes your sex, inserting two fingers again.

You pull away and start kissing her neck and the hand she has in your hair tenses. You adored that area of her, because it was the most sensitive. She pulls you away from her neck and takes out the fingers she still had inside you, grabbing your face with both hands and brings you closer to a kiss full of love, passion, lust and warmth.

You notice how she begins to get rid of the bottom part and lie down again, this time bringing your sexes closer together, moving her hips in a perfect rhythm, eliciting moans that are quickly silenced as your mouths are together.

You were the first to separate from her. You leaned your head back, leaving room for Manon to start biting and leaving marks that you knew everyone would see tomorrow.

You were close, very close.

“Are you close, witchling? Do you want to cum?”

You nodded. But Manon stopped moving her hips and grabbed your neck without applying too much pressure but just enough to make you go to the limit.

"Words"

“Yes Manon, please, I want to cum.”

She leaned close to your ear and whispered. “Good witchling”

She moved her hips again, this time a little faster and caressing your clit.

You became a bundle of moans, you felt that incredible sensation in your lower area. And then your whole world exploded, you stopped hearing what was happening around you, and you could only feel the orgasm course through your body, making your back arch.

You noticed how the bed sank next to you and two pairs of arms pulled you to her body. You wrapped an arm around her torso and rested your head on her shoulder. You were both drenched in sweat, but neither of you made any attempt to get out of bed and clean yourself, feeling better in each other's warmth.

Manon turned on her side so she could stare at you. You opened your eyes and found the gold that you loved so much. You smiled tired and at the same time happy.

“Did you like your gift?”

You saw her smile and her hand brushed your hair away from your face.

“I loved it, but”she got on top of you again “I told you that I was going to have you until dawn and I'm going to keep my promise.”

A playful laugh left your lips, you put your arms around her neck, pulling her close to you.

“Happy birthday, Manon.”

"Happy Birthday to me"

#throne of glass #throne of glass fanfiction #throne of glass fic #throne of glass imagine #manon blackbeak #manon x reader #manon fanfiction #manon imagine #smut #sarah j maas #sjmaas #sjm books #throne of glass smut #tog #Manon fanfic #manon x you #manon x f!reader

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alessabriel · 1 year

Text

How does it feel?

Summary: Wednesday always believed that you would be on his side forever, it was a pity that he did not know the truth that was never hidden from your eyes.

The plan was hatched between two minds, with only one chance to execute it, and Tyler knew it, knew it, with the aberrational taste of the wrong Addams's lips and the electricity coursing through his body. He could only think of you, how you had to sacrifice some aspect of yourself to find the truth and unmask the culprit in the director's eyes.

Killing was good, he loved the primal fear that nested in the air and the blood on his tongue.

But what he adored the most, what he undoubtedly craved since he admired him behind the bar at the Veleta was you, you. To you with your always expression of unwavering kindness and without any gap to inspect, face with feminine features and soft to the eye, lips always tinted in the center of the brightest red, straight hair falling over your back and shoulders creating a black curtain, your all black uniform and that dark gray sweater soaked in your sweet scent. You were a fortune in her existence, I could feel your eternal disdain for your hyperfixated twin sister but that she was so well made up that it was always classified as affectionate exasperation.

Few knew the truth.

And deep inside himself he was glad to see his father arrive with more policemen behind him, it wasn't a big job to show himself hurt and in pain.

It was only a matter of time before the young son of the Sheriff was taken out of that aberrant and unprecedented situation carried out by an excluded, he received sympathetic glances and doubtful eyes from the other excluded at his wobbly form. The officer who was escorting him was stopped by the same curly-haired boy who immediately between stutters asked for the Addams twin.

"S-she and I were summoned here"

That simple sentence was fuel enough for Bianca, Divina and Kent that in seconds they were running inside the school followed by the officers.

Time passed quickly.

At the police station were two young men in poor condition, injured and with clear signs of prior torture. The officers couldn't believe what their eyes were seeing, the girl part of the excluded could barely stand up and that was with the help of the Sheriff's son. His figure was covered by the Sheriff's jacket and his hair was in tatters, parted short along with a purplish bruise gracing his right cheek along with other scratches on his pale skin. The Sheriff and his officers could only speak quietly around her because any loud noise scared her.

The perception of the excluded really changed in the eyes of the officers.

Watching a small girl barely able to stay on her feet and out of a panic attack over another torture victim was heartbreaking. And he made something clear, even in the family there should be care.

“N-no! Please t-I'm afraid" was the immediate response of the younger Addams to being separated from the younger Galpin.

The Sheriff, Donovan Galpin, only bit his tongue when he saw how his son tried to protect that Addams girl with whom he always saw him smiling, it was clear that there was affection there and he felt terrible, for what they both went through. It was like seeing the past.

"You'll be fine [Name], I promise they won't hurt you" was the attempt to comfort the Sheriff's son under the gaze of his own father and other officers.

You were carefully placed under the care of a separate escort by other officers, the truth between whispers and looks that never made contact with the accused.

"You will be placed in police custody until the arrival of your Parents [Name] Addams"

And with all the pain in the world, the officials saw how you writhed with anxiety to be taken away from who you knew, but you were taken to other rooms. Leaving Tyler alone with his father, who was going to do the same if Tyler hadn't asked to speak to the older Addams. Reluctantly the Sheriff accepted him waiting outside the offices.

"Why did you lie and bring my sister in?" Wednesday hissed spitefully, seeing Tyler standing a few feet away from her.

The mere mention of her new teacher in that tone of voice turned her stomach, you didn't have to be mentioned like that and her look communicated it.

"It feels?"

"What does it feel like?" I question the older of the Addams twins.

Tyler could only smile when he detected your aroma impregnated in her palms, in her fingers and your blood on his tongue, the mere fact of feeling close to her comforted him in a thousand possible ways. And that made it fun enough, knowing you were safe and all resolved in a leap of faith that destroyed your sister's perception.

“Lose?” Tyler whispered mockingly, forcing himself not to smile at Wednesday's frustrated expression, inching closer. “At first I woke up naked, covered in blood. I didn't remember what had happened, but over time the memories wouldn't fade. they stayed. The sound of screaming, the panic in their eyes, and a fear so primal I could taste… And it was delicious."

Shock painted the older twin's features, disbelief at the effrontery of the confession. Wednesday felt for the first time terror, fear of someone she knew and at the closeness of her she could only endure, endure the painful grip and a hot rush of breath on her skin.

"You have no idea what's coming" was the last dark whisper emitted by the minor Galpin who, once said the confession, backed off.

But what Wednesday did manage to identify was her sister's perfume on it, that damn cotton-smelling perfume.

#wednesday netflix #Wednesday #tyler galpin x reader #Tyler galpin x reader Addams #Tyler galpin x reader Fem #Tyler galpin x y/N

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sansofhumor · 11 months

Text

I was sick again last night, and, like always, had skelebro thoughts. This is getting pavlovian lol.

CW: illness, magic vomit, and dissociation oh and uhhh weirdess about eating. It's not an ED, but figured I should warn for similar themes possibly.

Otherwise, it's just a stream of consciousness ficlet... don't mind the tense changes.

Papyrus wasn't sleeping so it would be inaccurate to say he'd been woken up by the noises in the bathroom down the hall. As it was, he stopped staring at his ceiling and blinked himself back, taking in his room: the action figures, his desktop, his bookshelf, his closet.

Color was easy. A red book cover, the cape on Action Guy, the red border of flame on his carpet. The red finish on his car bed.

Texture came next. The hard sides of his computer, the hard wood of his door, the hard bones of his attack box.

He always skipped taste and smell—he's a skeleton, and he kept his room much too clean for that.

Hearing. The buzz of electricity humming through the house. The muffled stumbling in the bathroom.

He sighs and swings his legs out of his bed mentally resets his counter back to zero. He leaves his room and skips the bathroom, taking the stairs to the kitchen instead. He grabs a glass of water and a new packet of tasteless little crackers even though Sans is bound to have a half a dozen open packets leaving crumbs all over his room. On the way back he grabs a spare blanket.

"Aw geeze, did I wake you?" Sans asks, in between shallow breaths. He's sitting on the tile, back to the shower. The little under sink cabinet is open like he'd grabbed it for leverage.

"I wasn't sleeping." Sans winces, and Papyrus can tell mostly from experience that it's more about Papyrus not sleeping than his volume.

Papyrus puts the glass and crackers on the sink counter and drapes the blanket over Sans' shoulders. He looks smaller under the blanket.

"You don't gotta stay," his brother says, like he says everytime. If Papyrus had eyes he would roll them out of his head. Sometimes he thinks they're backwards, the both of them. Sans hates when Papyrus gets sick, can barely stick around to get him something to drink. Papyrus supposes that's what he gets for getting sick so much less now.

"You'll feel better, if you drink the water," he says instead of anything else. It's not really a lie, even if Sans will definitely feel worse at first. His brother heaves a great sigh and reaches for the water, then takes small, hesitant sips. Papyrus keeps his hand on Sans' back.

"You can say it," Sans says, after taking the world's smallest amount of liquid. Even that much makes him wince as his body absorbs it.

"I told you so," Papyrus says, cheerfully. It's their running joke. I told you not to go eating at Grillby's. I warned you about the grease, bro! Sans gets to play his part so much less often now, but sometimes Undyne has a new recipe to try that Papyrus knows is going to upset the delicate nature of his skeletal magic matrix and he eats it anyways because Undyne is a very good friend and also, Papyrus is much better with his diet so sometimes it only hurts a little.

He guesses Sans is the same, he just has more friends.

Sans' eye lights have fuzzed out, a gaussian blur hazing their normally pointed stare. He's made of bone, so he can't quite go pale, but the sticky, cold sweat slime of illness beads up enough Papyrus can tell he's not doing as well as he was three seconds ago.

Papyrus helps prop him up, close enough Sans can lean over the toilet even with his wobbly frame. Papyrus doubts Sans drank enough water to help at this part, so he rubs small circles against Sans' spine and when his brother dry heaves with a miserable little sound Papyrus pats his back like he's trying to get the last bit of sauce out of a can.

They're skeletons, so they absorb magic very easily when they eat. But they're also skeletons, so there are some things they can't process like other monsters. Papyrus isn't sure why or what process is different. He just knows that heavy, rich foods make him and his brother ill. And non magic food is worse. Maybe it's too much and too little magic intent, maybe they were just made wrong.

Sans had kept a little notebook, when they were younger, of all the things that made Papyrus ill after eating. It'd grated on Sans, who would go out of his way to find something new and exciting and fun to eat for once, and have Papyrus squalling afterwards in a disconnected and pained haze. Sans didn't like keeping him on a bland low-magic diet. Sometimes they didn't have the opportunity to be picky about their foods anyways.

Sans never had been, and maybe, Papyrus thinks, that's a habit his brother can't break now that they're grown and whatever delicateness Papyrus has had to build diet around has caught up to him. If Sans weren't so used to eating whatever Papyrus couldn't when they were kids would he be better at sticking to the bland or overcooked low magic foods he needed?

Papyrus uses a corner of the blanket to mop up the slime from Sans' brow and leans him back. He grabs the water again when he sees nothing had made it into the toilet and makes Sans drink more than a shaky kitten's sip.

Sans mumbles something a little too quiet for Papyrus to hear—by design, because Sans' eye lights are more focused now, and the slime is drying on it's own. That doesn't really matter, Papyrus has known his brother for long enough he can identify the self-deprecating tone merely from counting how many beats it's been since he opened the bathroom door.

He wishes Sans would take better care of himself. But Papyrus is always going to be there, so it's okay that Sans doesn't, sometimes. Papyrus is always proud of himself, or tries to be, but in these moments it's always easier. He may be loud, and stubborn, and too optimistic for his own good, but that's exactly why he can help Sans. He doesn't ever startle his brother, because he's loud. He never let's Sans get away with crawling into a metaphorical hole because Papyrus will out stubborn him. And he'll keep doing it, repeating this bittersweet, backwards nostalgic cycle because he's optimistic enough to think it helps.

He's hopeful that one day Sans'll get better, either at remembering his own limits and needs or magically recovering from—well. Everything. But it doesn't matter if he ever does, really.

Papyrus can feel it under his hand before Sans even makes a noise, so he has his brother leaned over the toilet again when he heaves suddenly. This time refuse magic hits the bowl with a splash and Sans makes that startled noise which means it decided to expel itself in every inconvenient way.

Papyrus uses his advantageously long arms to grab a hand towel and waits until Sans' shoulders are shaking less, before pulling him back up a bit.

"Gross," Sans says, and Papyrus has to agree, because somehow the greenish mix of Sans' magic has found its way through his nasal holes, and his eyes. Papyrus offers the towel and Sans takes it, wiping roughly at the magic splattered on him.

Papyrus waits to see if another fit will crash into his brother's frame. Sans just breathes. At some point Papyrus realizes Sans' breath has fallen into a deep and regular pattern, and Papyrus lets his relief relax his tense posture.

Sometimes these fits can take hours to resolve, all night even, into the artifical light of morning. Those times are the worst, because Papyrus has to leave for the sentry job and he knows Sans just crawls into the shower and runs the tap until he either gets enough energy to make it back to his bed or Papyrus finds him sleeping, waterlogged, in the tub.

Papyrus cleans Sans' face with a new towel, catching the many spots Sans missed. He wraps Sans up in the blanket and lifts him up in his arms. It recalls a vaguely mirrored memory in him, a time when Sans used to be taller than him and would swaddle him in the closest thing to a baby blanket he could find.

Papyrus deposits Sans in his room, giving into the urge to tidy just enough that the mattress actually looks like a mattress and not a junk yard. He shuts the door behind him, goes back to the bathroom and when he blinks again the bathroom is blindingly clean and the stink of bleach is almost over powering. He starts to count—white tiles, white light, white towels, black shadows in the corners like ink staining paper—realizes he's better off somewhere he hadn't just scoured clean to within an inch of it's life, and steps out of the bathroom, into the hall, and back into his room.

He's definitely not sleeping.

Sans can sleep well enough for the both of them.

Papyrus wakes up his computer and opens the undernet, typing slowly into the search engine. He finds a pencil from somewhere and a piece of paper. He resolves to, at some point, get a notebook.

He finds a little mommy-cooking blog that hasn't been updated in awhile, with simple recipes. He taps the pencil lightly against the paper as he scrolls through and reads and writes.

#i dont have a pun for writing #skelebros #papyrus #papyrus undertale #sans #sans undertale #sickness cw #illness cw #vomit cw #emetephobia tw #??#fic #uh.....#GOSH FINALLY #updated the app and it gave me back readmore

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ponyartistbrainiac · 2 months

Text

That dream was wild

I went "home" but it wasn't really my home yet my mother and sister where there

It was this oddly shaped 2/3 story house with many many many rooms

Most of these rooms has hospital beds and people missing limbs in the same floor as my mom

Everyone feared her like a landlord

I asked her where my cats where and she told me to shoo and go find them

So off on an epic adventure I went

I started up stairs in mine and Courtney's shared room which mirrored the room we shared in college

There where cats but none of them where either of mine

I checked another room and knocked on the door

I was greeted by a rough looking man with a guitar

I tried to ask him about my cats but he looked nervous

Almost suspicious

And told me to check somewhere else for now

I checked another room which had again many cats but this one had a girl who was missing both her legs

I described my cat Shiner as "white with gray spots"

She walked away on her hands and brought me a cat that looked oh so similar

But it wasn't mine

Sadly I thanked her and tried again with the next door

It appeared empty but had many cats under the bed

None of which where mine

I decided to try downstairs

I walked downstairs and the first thing I noticed was how dingy and dilapidated this place was

It had more rooms and more people missing limbs or other body parts

I tried to talk to a few and asked about my cats and we managed to find one

I think

Maxie

It looked like maxie and acted like maxie and had a purple collar bit something felt off

Regardless I took her upstairs and handed her to Courtney who asked me if I have seen Shiner anywhere.

I told her no sadly and she frowned knowing the special bond me and Shiner have and she hope's she turns up

I went back downstairs and talked to a few people while looking for shiner

I changed the way I described her as a white cat with gray spots a splotch of gray on her nose and a "buttcrack" shaped gray splotch on her head that covers most but half of her head except half of her ear which is white

Sadly no one sees her but they suggested I check the neighborhood

I walked around from house to house asking after my cat when I noticed an absolutely massive glass dome with floating platforms generating food and electricity

The other people around the neighborhood which was just a series of haphazardly placed houses and a gray and colorless desert landscape had choice words to say about the landlord

A demon they called her

I walked back home looking and feeling dejected when I ran into the guitar guy in passing

He told me to check the closed door next to his room and gave me a key

I definitely did that and when I went into said room there was a man in a hospital bed with a ventilator who was barely alive

I found no cats only a note with a key

"Go to the dome and ask around

They are kinder then they seem"

Nervous about the dome but wanting to do anything to get my cat back I psyched myself up and made my way there

It took forever to find a way inside I had to go through an inconspicuous cellar which lead to a bright and bustling community of people in costumes

I asked after them but no one would stop until I lost my patience and yelled "HEY EXCUSE ME IM SORRY BUT I HAVE A QUESTION!" Everyone turned to me

Suddenly angry

And one girl said "this is private pro-" but she was cut off by another man who said "oh don't be that way she's not here to interrupt! What was your question?" I proceeded to tell him about my cat and he looked thoughtful

Slowly everyone started discussing something and I heard "the landlords" name on their lips

The man walked up to me I can't remember his features but he said

"Go to the bar and ask about your cat. Give a very thorough description"

This time when I asked about Shiner I added that she was also very old

The bartender was a large man with a very warm smile he seemed almost lion like

He handed me a box and I opened it inside was the statue of a lion

But as I held it it started to unfold into a cat

My cat

I was confused and he said: "my dear your friend has passed on but they still wish to watch over you. This place... it's not for you

You don't need to keep coming back here your free.

Perhaps you should go thank and say goodbye to all the new friends you made today

And go home

Back to the world of color you built."

Teary eyed suddenly I looked up at him while I held the small statuette

He patted my head and added "of course we all here will be rooting for you" and then I noticed the sign

"Roleplay society for when life gets to hard

The road always leads here."

I left out the cellar and made the long walk home

The landscape seemed grayer somehow but there where spotlights of sun peeking through the dark clouds

When I returned to the house I heard yelling and cursing that sounded like the guitar man from earlier

Through the cracked door to "the landlords" room I saw he looked miserable and he looked me in the eye as I heard her say to him "get out of here before she sees you"

I noticed then he was naked and covered in bruises

After a while walked out and looked down at me sadly while putting his shirt back on one button at a time

He made a warm and sad smile and pet my head

He saw I was clutching the statuette and he said "I see... here is my card you will need it"

It had a picture of a man with curly hair a sandy sort of brownish yellow that turned white with the name "Luniasto Sol" or was it "Luniaster Sol" I saw it only for a brief moment

He then said "I have always watched you and I am proud of you" the world fell into colors and I woke up

#my text #weird dream #vivid dream #dream #dreaming #epic journey #what the hecc was that #cats #cat #my dreams

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milkytheholy1 · 2 years

Text

Everything Ends: Part 12

Tmnt masterlist. Ultimate masterlist. Everything Ends masterlist.

----------------------------------------------------------

The final Battle

"C'mon, the keys over here!" Casey yelled out, voice slightly muffled by his mask. You skidded around a pile of debris, sometimes you wished you trained more like April in times like these. Speaking of which, the teen beside you huffed out a breath of air, her mind going a mile a minute. April's eyes scanned over the land before them, looking for any enemies that may pop up over the horizon.

Splinter stood in front of you all, ever the responsible adult, he vowed he would not be losing any more of his children today. You were on a construction site, you think? It was hard to tell when the whole city was near enough in ruin, jeez, the Kraang hadn't even been here for that long and the place already looked like a dump.

Casey pointed a finger towards a pile in the distance, "There's the key! Let's go!" he cheered, sounding a lot more hopeful than he did earlier. The boy ran straight forward, ignoring his sense of survival as he made a mad dash towards the thing that would end it all. Unfortunately for him, something had beaten him to it.

Casey was sent flying back towards you, Splinter narrowly avoided the oncoming body strewn his way. Your eyes widened as you took in the creature, it clearly wasn't human or even a Yoki for that matter. Its eyes were a glaring red, its teeth sharp and covered in saliva. It made a beeline for the key, you turned to look at April, she had a stoic expression on her face, "Like Casey said, let's go!" she then charged forward, a scream blaring from her lips.

While your small fight raged on, you couldn't help but wonder what the boys were facing on the ship, there was no doubt it was worse than this. But you couldn't think about it for long as more and more creatures began piling up. With Casey now back in the fight you had somewhat more of a chance than before, "Dude, you've fought these things before, right? How do we stop them?" you yelled out over the sounds of violence.

Casey was sent back a few paces but landed on his feet, pulling out his souped-up hockey stick, he began decapitating the creatures that were within reach. He was panting behind his mask, taking a moment to breathe and answer you, "That's the thing, I don't know. These things were always a pain in the future."

"Stabbing seems to work!" April beamed, using some broken piping to embrace one of the creature's hearts. Splinter was stood on top of the partially built structure, swinging from beam to beam via his tail as he avoided multiple punches. He easily kicked the beast to the ground, watching as its arms flailed wildly, "We must stay strong and keep fighting, my boys are counting on us."

You all nodded your heads, getting back into the swing of things; no matter how much your body ached. A lightning bolt shot from the sky, you only just avoided it but the electricity in the air remained, you could feel the hair on your arms stand to attention.

"So not only do we have to deal with crazy aliens but also extreme weather, nice." you moaned bitterly, racing away from one of the creatures as it leapt at your feet. You ran towards the structure similar to Splinters but larger in height. Dodging the monster's swings as you confused it by running between each beam.

The poor thing was so directionless it stood with its head spinning for more than a minute, though this was the perfect time for you to attack. Swinging a small beam in your hands, the ends of which were jagged and sharp, you sliced through the creature's head. Green blood and purple guts spluttered out of the seams, coating your hands in the alien substance.

"Ugh, grossss." you whined, dropping the metal to the ground. A loud cackling sound brought you back to reality, dragging you away from the rotting body in front of you. You soon joined the others, following their gaze to reveal the Sister Kraang perched where Splinter once stood.

"What a surprise to find you pathetic creatures here of all places." she mused, a snarl leaving her lips. April gave the alien a look up and down, smirking to herself with her hand braced against her hip, "I see you got yourself an upgrade."

The Kraang growled, placing a robotic hand over her missing eye before it formed a fist by her side, "You will pay dearly for what you have done to me!" she screamed, parts of her armour lifting up to reveal a multitude of weapons. Splinter rolled his eyes, his face clearly unamused, "The psycho routine is getting a little thin, where's the character development?"

The Sister Kraang sneered, her eyes full of hatred as she fired the weapons without hesitation. You evaded them as best as you could, but the ground beneath your feet shook with each blow, making you unsteady. Splinter charged against her once the smoke had cleared, he flew kicks and punches towards her, easily dodging her own swings of retaliation.

Yet it wouldn't take long for her to whack him against the beams of the work-in-progress construction job that had been plaguing the city after the defeat of the Shredder. Splinter struggled to stand, holding a hand to his chest as he quite literally had the wind knocked out of him.

"Leo's counting on us to get that key," Casey huffed, his gaze fixed on the artefact that sat snuggly behind the Kraang's form. April huffed, rubbing her chin in thought, eyes far off in the distance, she then clicked her fingers "I think I have an idea, cover me!"

You and Casey stood in a defensive stance, future boy cast a glance at you and offered you a weapon of your own. You had no clue where he even pulled it from, perhaps a secret future pocket that was bigger on the inside. You held it in your hands, it wasn't much, just a small stick with a blade attached to the end; it was awfully light. Casey smirked at you and pressed a button on the bottom of the hilt, watching you with excited eyes as the entire weapon grew in size.

It looked a lot like one of Donnie's bo-staffs, except this version was sharp and sleek. It clearly went through years of refined touches and tests to get it this perfect, future Donnie must have been pleased with his work. You gripped the device a little more tightly now, sharing a confident nod with Casey.

"Fight me you vile Utrom-loving skin sacks!" the Sister Kraang demanded. You frowned at the insult, who is she to call you vile, you happen to know many people who would say otherwise. Roaring a battle cry of your own, you and Casey leapt at the villain with your weapons raised high.

You both put up a good fight, you were surprised you were able to bypass the Kraang's swings for as long as you did. You jabbed the pointed sphere into the Kraang's metallic casings, hoping to pry the gooey insides out into the light. Casey on the other hand held a vengeance in his eyes, this was his chance to fight back and get revenge for everything that had ever happened in his life.

With huge swings, he sent the Kraang skidding back bit by bit, "This is for my mother," swing, "This is for the fallen souls," whack, "This is for my master," hit, "THIS IS FOR THE FUTURE!" With one final swing, Casey sent the Kraang towards the ground with a gruff groan. By this point, Casey was panting, his shoulders huffing up and down in rapid succession.

You carefully placed a hand on his arm, unsure how he'd react, but the most he did was jump; you suppose he was too lost in his own world.

"You feel better for that?" you asked him with a warm smile, he turned to you with a grin of his own, tears budding in his eyes, "Yeah...Yeah, I do."

"How touching, but your fears will be the end of you!" The Sister Kraang hollered, standing to her full height and sweeping the ground from under you. She grabbed you both in her hands while you mindlessly scaled the air, dragging you closer to her face, so close you could smell her wretched breath.

"It's so very amusing that you, you of all things came back to stop us. I was expecting someone bigger, stronger even." she sent a shiver down Casey's spine. Her gaze then turned to you, "And you, you have been nothing but a pain in my side since I got to this planet. You and your little group. But once I rip your insides out, I'll go for your friends down there, then I'll kill those turtles you admire so much. Perhaps I'll make the blue one watch as I shred you to pieces."

You tried to wriggle out of her grasp, anger fueling you as you struggled. The Sister Kraang only laughed, whipping her robotic head back almost human-like.

"Let them go, Kraang." Splinter's voice called out, he looked a little weakened, that one swing must have taken more out of him than you thought. The Kraang beamed, her smile meeting her eyes, "As you wish," she mused, she launched herself into the air, and with a wicked gleam, she dropped you and Casey.

"NOO!" Splinter screamed, jumping from beam to beam to catch you in time. He managed to swipe you, but Casey hit the ground quicker than Splinter would have liked. Dust surrounded the poor boy, but once it settled a blue orb shone around him. As Splinter approached, with you out cold in his arms, he could hear rather than see Casey coughing. The boy rolled onto his back with his eyes closed, a gruff "I'm okay," rasping out of his lips.

Splinter let out a sigh of relief, carefully placing you beside him, "Protect them, Casey." he whispered. He then left the duo, walking calmly up to the Kraang, rolling the robes of his sleeves up and tightening the small ponytail on his head. The Kraang tilted her head to the side out of curiosity, it was rather amusing to her to see such a small creature hold itself so highly.

But Splinter was someone who you shouldn't underestimate too easily. His form began to flicker, and before the Kraang knew it, he was by her side in less than a second. Splinter delivered a series of fast-paced kicks and jabs to her build. Her body dipping and diving in different directions as he continued his efforts. The Sister Kraang was growing irritated, unable to land a single hit on him due to his quick movements.

But that came to an end when she pounded the ground beneath her, the force sending Splinter back, but not out for the count. He skidded to a halt, flicking one of his ears before rushing back to the fight. This time though, the third sister kept up with him, delving into some of her own moves against his withering, old form.

"You cannot stop what is destined to happen, old man."

"I may not be able to stop you, but my sons will." he spat out some blood after the Kraang supplied a swift jab to his jaw. The Kraang simply shook her head, "They won't even live to see us rule their world, much like how you won't live long enough to see them fail." the Kraang then rapidly produced punch after punch against Splinter's chest, watching with a smirk as his body hovered in the air as her punches kept going.

With one final blow, Splinter's bruised and battered body was hurled across the construction sight and slammed into one of the small in-progress buildings. The clash was so powerful he not only dented the surface where he made an impact, but the poorly constructed skeleton of a building began to shake. Piece by piece the building came down on top of him, bits of metal beams and concrete slabs covered his body and soon hid him from view.

Casey watched on with wide eyes, a hand stretching out in the same direction, "SPLINTER!" he cried. You were still next to him, your breathing steady and unaware what was happening, but your mind was racing, he could see the way your eyes were darting around under your eyelids.

Casey looked back over to the pile of debris, just waiting, praying Splinter would crawl out any second now. He'd make a silly little joke about his bad back and all would be fine. But that didn't happen, Casey couldn't see him at all, couldn't hear him.

"Aprilllll O'Neillllllll!" came a bellowing voice, followed by a loud sound of machinery. A huge wrecking ball crushed into the Sister Kraang's robotical side sending her along with the wrecking ball into a partially built building. However, she still got up. Slowly but surely, the beast wobbled on two legs, glaring at you all, "You'll pay for that." she seethed.

"I don't think so," April hummed, aiming another swing with the wrecking ball, this time hitting the structure. The small building began to shake and shudder, quickly coming apart and collapsing on top of the Kraang. The third sister bellowed out screams of help and the odd "No!" but her voice was quickly muted.

Casey watched from the sidelines with you still out in his arms, a tear trickled down his cheeks, "Payback." he spat out. Future Boy looked back down into his arms, watching you with worried eyes. He began shaking you, but you were in your own world.

The view would have been so pretty on the rooftop if it weren't for the harrowing screams that echoed through the streets or the giant space orb intent on demolishing anything it saw. You were looking out over the horizon, wondering if this was the life you were meant to live, perhaps the future was always meant to be destroyed and the city left in ruin.

A presence joined your side, Leo of all turtles. He remained silent, joining in your private viewing of the world falling apart. The quiet remained for a few more minutes, until his deep sigh broke the air, "Stay safe out there." he whispered. You then felt a tingling sensation from the tips of your fingers to the deep groves of the palm of your hand.

Looking down, you caught Leo's hand intermingling with your own. You smiled at the imagery.

"You too, leader in blue." you mused, but your tone was polite and full of love. He finally turned to look at you, he was radiant; but when wasn't he? His free hand travelled up the depths of your face, rubbing his thumb against the plushness of your cheek, "I love you." he hummed. You cherished moments like these, they didn't happen very often, only in moments of uncertainty.

The last time you remember having such a conversation was moments before the final battle against Shred-head and the dark armour. You nuzzled into his open palm, pressing a brief kiss against his scarred skin, "I love you more." He smiled at that, quickly leaning in to press chaste kisses against your cheeks, he leaves to join his brothers and carry out the daunting mission ahead of them.

"(Y/N)! (Y/N), c'mon not you too!" Casey's voice rang out in your head, squinting your eyes your mind seemed to snap and suddenly you were pulled away from your tranquil thoughts and thrust into the real world.

You awoke to Casey shaking you violently in his arms, hands braced tightly against your shoulders. You batted his hands away once you regained enough consciousness, "Ok, ok, I get it." you mumbled, rubbing your head. April had finally managed to depart the wrecking-ball machine, who knew it would have so many seatbelts and safety precautions?

"(Y/N)! Are you okay, are you hurt? Where are you hurt? Should I call Donnie? I trained as a lifeguard for six months, but I don't know if I can fix alien punches." she rambled, eyes scrambling over every inch of your form. You shut her up with a hug, grabbing on tightly to her jacket, "I'm okay," you whispered repeatedly.

"Um, guys?" Casey's wavering voice broke you apart, his head was downcast and his eyes were wet with tears. You and April gave him a questioning stare before April looked around noticing a member of your team was missing, "Where's Splinter?" Casey flinched at the question.

"Casey, where's Master Splinter?" you asked again, but from the guilt-ridden face and uncomfortable silence, you could grasp where this was going. Seemingly so could April with the small gasp released from her lips. Casey pointed over to the pile of rubble on the far side of the construction site, you all rushed over to it in an instant.

April fell to her knees, tears flowing freely from her eyes. You tried digging through the dirt, clawing at the rocks with your nails, but it was too damn heavy. Nothing would move. Casey stood behind you both, though he had not known this Splinter or any for that matter, he felt the loss and pain you were both experiencing.

Minutes passed until you tried to do anything again, offering a hand to April, you looked at her with grief in your eyes. Like an unspoken bond, she nodded her head and you both turned to the pile of dirt and concrete, bowing as a sign of respect. Once you stood to your full height, you tried to speak "W-we need to f-finish the plan." your voice cracking as you spoke.

April shook her head in agreement, "The boys are counting on us, the whole world is counting on us."

"No pressure then," you tried to smile, but it hurt too much right now. Casey looked between the two of you, unsure if he wanted to leave you alone, "We'll be fine, Jones. Go get that key." April hummed. Casey was reluctant but left anyway, he had his own mission to complete.

You turned back to the grave behind you, the only thought you could muster rattled around inside your head: What will the guys think?

#tmnt #tmnt movie #tmnt leonardo #tmnt leo #rottmnt #rottmnt movie #rottmnt leo #rottmnt leonardo #rottmnt leonardo x reader #rottmnt leo x reader #tmnt leonardo x reader #tmnt leo x reader #angst #fanfiction #tmnt fanfiction #Everything Ends #warning: major character death

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thepenultimateword · 2 years

Text

Protective Part 2

Part One

Warm sunbeams caressed Villain's face, gradually drawing them into consciousness. Black turned to blurred cream; a few blinks later they became aware of the cool mattress and cozy, downy-stuffed comforter clutched around them.

Where were they? They blinked several more times, taking in the grand, wooden armoire, the fancy light fixture, and the plush white rug encircling the bed. Supervillain's house. That's right, Supervillain had excused themself to do something and Villain not knowing the way home, or even if they were still within the city limits, had been waiting for them to come back and... Did they fall asleep here last night? If so, it would have definitely been on the couch,, meaning Supervillain must have carried them... A treacherous blush cut that image abruptly short, and they swung their legs staunchly over the mattress, determined to see this through without jumping to conclusions, getting aspirations, or doing anything else that would only hurt them in the end.

That resolution nearly dissolved the moment their toes sank into the plush carpet. Villain fought back a sigh but managed to tiptoe to the door and quietly crack it open. The quiet sounds of sizzling, lightly scraping metal, and muffled voices traveled down the hallway. Making sure the door didn't squeak, Villain squeezed through the crack and carefully padded in the direction of the kitchen, stopping just short of the entrance so that they could peer discreetly around the corner.

Supervillain stood over the stove pushing scrambled eggs around a frying pan with a rubber spatula, but as if led by a sixth sense, they suddenly glanced toward the hallway. They caught sight of them immediately.

"Good morning!" That perfectly carved face burst into a smile. "I'm making breakfast, so sit wherever you like."

"Oh, I...well..."

Villain couldn't think of a proper protest, so instead, they pulled out a stool at the kitchen counter and balanced themself along its edge. Unfortunately, the seat they'd chosen at random gave them a pristine view of Supervillain's broad back and shoulders. The tight cling of their t-shirt didn't leave much of their build to the imagination. The fabric crinkled slightly around the waist. Had they slept in that? Were these pajamas?

Villain quickly averted their gaze to whatever was playing on the large flat screen in the adjoining room. News apparently.

"...28-year-old Charles Blantley was found unconscious several blocks from his home with severe cuts and bruises covering his entire body. The neighbor who found Blantely and contacted emergency services was able to comment on his injuries and confirm that the victim, an up-and-coming hero, was not one to have enemies. His condition remains unknown at this time."

Villain gaped as the victim's picture popped up on the screen. They'd seen that face only once, yesterday, but it wasn't one they'd soon forget.

"Isn't that the guy who..." they trailed.

"Who brutally disrespected you?" Supervillain scraped half the eggs on a plate and sprinkled it over with cheese. "Yes. I took care of it."

Villain swallowed hard, not necessarily disturbed as much as they were shocked. "Did you kill him?"

Supervillain set the plate in front of them and slid a fork up against the forefinger. "No, but he probably wishes I did. I needed him alive to spread the word."

"What word?"

"That you're under my protection." Supervillain grinned. Villain's heart thudded. "Which reminds me, we should go public soon. That is if you're convinced of my feelings now."

Villian looked back and forth between the eggs and the tv, mouth hanging halfway open as they tried to take in this new information. When it finally hit it was like being hit with an electric shock. All the hairs on the arms and neck stood up straight and a sharp zang traveled through their chest. "Oh...er...yes. I think I believe you."

Supervillain's mouth stretched into an upward twinged line. "I suppose that's a start."

This was awkward. They didn't want it to be awkward. How were they supposed to respond? Villain numbly scooped up a forkful of eggs and shoved them into their mouth. They almost melted on the spot.

"Why are these so good?" they blurted before they could stop themself.

"Because they were made with the pure and loving intentions of my heart."

Villain stared at them.

"It's the cheese," Supervillain said. "It's a good brand. Anyway, how should we announce our relationship? Livestream? News interview? Oh, we could go on a date and post the pictures online!"

Villain blinked at the master criminal's beaming face. They were really excited about this. But...why? Villain wasn't anything special. There were a hundred villains like them: pathetic bottomfeeders who couldn't make it past a certain point. Supervillain said they wanted to protect them? Surely there were other, more qualified individuals that would suit them much better."

Supervillain's smile began to droop. Villain had been quiet for too long.

"A date's fine," they said quickly.

Supervillain's energy returned full force. "Let's go today then! You can go back home and change, and I'll pick you up at-- Well, what's good for you?"

"Noon?" Villain said, searching around the room for a clock. They weren't even sure what time it was now. They were strangely well-rested, no nightmares for the first time in a long while.

"Perfect! I know a great little cafe for lunch and dessert. There's a ferry nearby that can take us to this beautiful old lighthouse. We can look at the view and feed the crabs."

"Crabs?" Villain's searching eyes finally landed on the stove clock. 10:15. Not much time then.

"There are tons! They like chicken."

That comment drew them back. "What? How did you find that out?"

"I take a lot of walks and share a lot of snacks."

Something lurked behind that statement, a strained nonchalance that was anything but. It made Villain think of lonely nights in an empty house as a child; they didn't pursue it too far.

"So," they hurriedly scraped the last bite of egg off their plate and slid out of their seat, "I should probably go..."

"Of course." Supervillain stepped around the counter and retrieved a brown paper sack from beside the couch. "I had your clothes cleaned. But please, keep those too, I bought them for you."

"Oh," Villain stared down at the soft shirt they were wearing, clamping it subconsciously in one fist. It felt strange accepting things from someone they'd barely met, but it also seemed rude to give it back. "Thank you."

Supervillain's face split with yet another grin, and they took one long stride forward, pressing the paper bag of old clothes into Villain's hand and letting their fingers linger across their knuckles. "You're welcome. Do you want me to walk you home? Or do you want a ride?"

Villain glanced at the stove clock once again. 10:20.

"I guess whatever's quickest."

"Well in that case..." Supervillain's arms suddenly wrapped around Villain's waist and gathered them up against their chest. Villain's face and neck were on fire. "Sorry, safety protocols. What's your street?"

"Ash Grove," they heard themself say.

"Hold on."

Supervillain made a running leap and the whole room folded away, like a page in a book turned over for a new one. The soft light of morning was replaced with shady darkness, and Supervillain sailed through it like a bird, hair flapping in a heavy wind. Villain gripped involuntarily to their shirt, terrified by the thought of what might happen if they were to suddenly drop into that endless nothing below them.

The next thing they knew, the endless blacks and greys were ripped away, and they were standing in a regular street. They clung to Supervillain for several moments, panting miserably while passersby gave odd looks.

"I'm sorry," Supervillain fussed, rubbing frantic circles into Villain's back. They genuinely seemed concerned. "I thought that would be fun. I didn't know that you...that it... I didn't know."

"T-that's ok," Villain said, forcing their fingers to open and taking a wobbly step back. "I just...I wasn't prepared. What...what was that exactly?"

"Dark realm. It's...well, it's complicated. I'll explain another time. See you in a bit." Supervillain abruptly leaped forward, a sliver of darkness tearing through mid-air just long enough for them to disappear through it.

Villain stared at the empty space until a car horn snapped them back to reality. Right. Not a lot of time. A quick scan of the building revealed their apartment complex a couple buildings down and they hurried inside.

Part 3

Master Taglist:

@moss-tombstone @crazytwentythrees @just-1-lonely-person @the-vagabond-nun @yulanlavender @willow-trees-are-beautiful @cocoasprite @insanedreamer7905 @appleejuice

#villain x villain #heroes and villains #writing snippet #hero x villain #creative writing #villain #heroes and villains community #fiction #hero #villain x hero #superheroes and villains #supervillain x villain

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sadistpet · 5 months

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it's munday and you know what that means . here is me rambling about raikov ( + volgin ) and a common perception of him because im annoying and talkative <3 cw for mentions of sa / abusive relationships

a Lot of people in the fandom view raikov as yet another victim to volgin, being forced into being his lover and only being cruel to his soldiers to appeal to volgin. which like. people can view it however they want, you do you. but i also think that interpretation is deeply boring and cliché and . kind of undermines raikov as a character and reduces him to some... damsel in distress ? i feel like it robs raikov of his agency as a character who's able to make his own decisions ; he can't have chosen this, he had to have been forced into it. and it's silly, because there's so much canon evidence inferring the complete opposite ?

i think this ties into the idea i mentioned that volgin's relationship to raikov was meant to indicate a more tender and "human" aspect to his character, but it just wasn't as blatant as it could've been. take the cutscenes for example ; we get two cutscenes that feature a focus on both eva and raikov's nude bodies. eva is covered in scars, which she mentions are from volgin. they're part of her, cut into her skin, permanent. she didn't want them, and she can't get rid of them if she tries, unless it's via surgery.

raikov, on the other hand, has absolutely flawless skin with no signs of scarring. the only indication he has a connection to volgin is his underwear with a lightning bolt. and that's something removable, something he could easily take off if he wanted. it's under his clothes, after all, where nobody can see -- and still he wears them. why would he if he didn't want to ? sure, you could come up with reasons why, but it seems pretty obvious that he's wearing them by choice. and them being a removable piece of clothing rather than permanent scarring further implies it's something he chooses, and something that volgin is, surprisingly, fine with.

getting into the way volgin acts in regards to raikov. like, oh my actual god, where do i begin. in terms of the infamous homo-picture, we can see volgin genuinely smiling. not sadistically, but like, actual, meeting-the-eyes smile. ignore raikov being the irl depiction of the 😩 emoji because he's getting his dick grabbed. the fact this is a candid picture too implies that this is just how he is around raikov ; genuine, lets his guard down.

not to mention the fact he beats the shit out of snake EXPLICITLY FOR HURTING RAIKOV. like. you cannot get more blatant than him saying "i will make him pay for hurting ivan" and then proceeding to absolutely pummel snake within an inch of his life. not for the legacy, not for the deception, or anything even remotely related to the main plot -- no, it's for hurting ivan. i guess you could say it's a possessive thing, but that's disproven with his battle dialogue if you wear the raikov mask. he says that he thought ivan had been killed. hence, why would it be something possessive ?

IN ADDITION TO THAT. even when he realises that snake isn't raikov, he never lays a hand on him. there's the initial crotch grab, and after that he shoves snake away, but he doesn't EVER hurt him again until snake's raikov mask is removed. only THEN does he beat him. the entire time that snake wears the raikov mask during that scene, volgin doesn't lay a finger on him, doesn't use his electricity powers on him, despite the fact he absolutely could and knows that it isn't raikov.

by putting on the raikov mask during volgin's battle, it gives us even more insight to this. volgin stops attacking you, freezes up, visibly trembles and slowly walks towards snake thinking he's raikov. even his lines -- "ivan. ivan? ivan! is it really you? i thought you'd been killed..." // "how dare you!" // "you will pay for what you did to ivan!" // "i will avenge ivan!" -- all imply that he truly cares about raikov. this is even more evident when coupled with the fact he attacks you even more violently at this point.

and that's not even mentioning the blatant contrast between how he reacts towards tatyana being manhandled by ocelot, who essentially threatens to kill her, and how he reacts after finding out snake must've hurt raikov. he truly does not give a shit about her ( "do as you like." ), he doesn't see any qualms with hurting her or killing her. but raikov ? he beats snake to a pulp for hurting him. he can't even bring himself to harm someone that looks like raikov, even when he knows it's not actually him.

raikov's existence as a joke character is a detriment when trying to find out more about his own introspection and views, but portable ops' recruitment dialogue for him gives us a very small, but very intriguing look into his personality. he is completely different from when we see him in mgs3. he's withdrawn and nearly silent, more awkward and visibly cowardly. far removed from the cocky, snarky, sadistic version we see in snake eater. the only times he speaks up are when revenge is mentioned, but more poignantly, when volgin is mentioned. when he's spoken to by campbell, he remains almost entirely silent besides six lines, two of which are explicitly about volgin :

"…bastard! how could you know!? wait, i get it… you’re an agent of the man they call snake. the yankee who killed the colonel at groznyj grad! and you came all this way to gloat over me…!" "you want me… to join the villain who killed the colonel? not a chance…"

it's clear from these lines alone that raikov is still, six years later, extremely broken up over volgin's death. or, well, "death", but ykno. his entire personality has shifted into one far more morose and dour, and he only speaks up and shows genuine emotion in his speech when it's about volgin. he refuses to join big boss' team because big boss killed volgin. he remembers big boss in the first place for that exact reason. volgin's death has evidently left its mark on raikov. he's not the same man. sure, you could say maybe he's upset because volgin dying meant he lost the person protecting him from retribution, and he lost all his privileges. but then, why doesn't he make any attempt to climb the ranks of big boss' group the same way ? "because it's big boss' group, and he hates big boss!" yes. because big boss killed his lover. he calls big boss a villain for what he did to volgin, so it's clear he doesn't view what happened as a positive. this goes double for the fact he seems to not care at all about being praised and promoted among the ranks of the soviet armed forces. he only cares about revenge.

when you look at it all, it's blatantly obvious that volgin cares about raikov in a way he exhibits with nobody else. and raikov is heavily implied to feel the same way. raikov isn't just another of volgin's lovers, he's someone that volgin genuinely cares about. reducing raikov's character to some kind of damsel coerced into this relationship is not only, in my opinion, deeply cliché and boring, but it goes against all the evidence presented in the games ?

there's some other interpretations i'm not personally a fan of, but do find intriguing and interesting ( such as raikov being EVA / a spy, ) but this one irks me immensely to the point where i feel like i have to refute it. volgin is irredeemably evil, yes. he can be irredeemably evil and also genuinely love raikov. and the small amount we've seen into raikov's mentality support that the feeling is, in fact, mutual. sure, there's claims to make about age disparity and power imbalances, but it's stated pretty clearly ingame - multiple times in fact - that volgin views raikov as an equal.

framing raikov as some kind of victim or acting on harmful urges etc not only goes against the canon, but it strips away the character's ability to make his own decisions. why must he be a victim ? is it not possible - and probable, given the evidence - that he is just as bad as volgin, if not worse, and that's why they're drawn to each other ? is it not possible he chose to be volgin's lover out of a genuine desire for something, be that love or intimacy in general ? villains can be villains and still love like everyone else. they can be evil and still love healthily and genuinely. these things aren't mutually exclusive and acting like they are is very cartoonish !

so yeah. tldr the games heavily imply if not outright state that volgin and raikov legitimately and truly care for and love each other beyond that of just a physical, sexual relationship, and the depiction of raikov as a victim of volgin is a huge disservice to his character and also goes against what we've seen in canon

#this took me 3 hours. enjoy my essay #g: ¦ ❝ ooc. ❞

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