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mint-yooxgi · 6 months

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Promises - Yandere!Kraken!Felix

Yandere AU & Kraken AU - First Person POV

Genre: Mature, Smutty Themes, Internal Monologue

Pairing: Felix X Implied Chubby!Fem!Reader

Words: 1,958

Warnings: Implied violence and shipwreck, kidnapping, Felix is a type of Sea God in this, mentions of past sexual relations. Tentacles. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: Did I base the start of this drabble on the ending scene in Dead Man's Chest? Perhaps. Is this a bit tamer than the others. Maybe. Either way, I still hope you like it! I've been slowly easing myself back into writing, so I'm happy with what I've been able to do. Plus, I just fucking love the banner I made for this hehehe... Anyways, Feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy!~

The Thirteenth of The Feral Drabbles

They thought they could keep you away from me.

They really thought they could keep you away from me.

It’s laughable. I thought it was a known rule for sailors not to anger the sea, but alas. Here we are.

The frantic screams and shouts don’t deter me for one second. I know what I came here for, and I’m not leaving without you. You’re mine. I warned them what the consequences would be, yet still they refused to give you to me. Even after we promised ourselves to each other! Can you believe that?

Oh, that sounds so harsh. It’s not like you didn’t also choose me. It’s these… these… things keeping us apart. They don’t understand our love. Think I’m corrupting you, or something.

Such bullshit. The only thing I’m corrupting is their ability to live.

They hid you on the third level, thinking you’d be safe within the deepest confines of the ship. Little do they know it’s the worst place you could be. It’s like they want you to get hurt, like they want me to kill you. Such things I would never do.

Still, despite my anger as I tear this floating piece of wood apart, I’m careful. Your safety is my top priority, and I’ve already ensured that. Right now, you rest, cocooned inside a few of my tentacles. Magic surrounds you, ensuring none of their attacks have any effect on me or you. Like hell I’ll allow them to disturb you now. Besides, you passed out shortly after my assault started on the ship, but you don’t have to worry. I’ve got you.

I can still remember when we first met, how you told me you didn’t fare well with sea travel. Yet another offence they’ve made against you. I’ll never forgive them for their transgressions. Sinners need to pay, and I am here to pass my divine judgement on those that would call themselves ‘heroes’.

Do not fear, My Beloved. Once I finish smashing apart this pathetic excuse of driftwood, I’ll take you home.

Where you’ve always belonged.

With me.

These planks are so brittle, it’s almost laughable. Your captor’s pathetic attempts to defend themselves are cute, in a way. If not for the fact that every time I start to pull you out of the wreckage, more of them show up to try and hinder me. I don’t know why they’re so obsessed with protecting you now when they’ve never done so before.

I’m the one who always saves you. I’m the one who ensures you no harm. Not them.

No matter. They haven’t seen everything that I can do. My capabilities far surpass what their puny, closed off minds can comprehend. I’ve got magic beyond the darkest depths of the ocean, strength greater than the harshest of tides. There is no being, save myself, that could keep me away from you.

I don’t even know why they try.

Finally, I’m able to pull you out of that godforsaken wreckage and unleash my full wrath upon these wretches. The boat snaps like a twig as I pull the debris and all remaining survivors below the surface.

None will survive. They don’t get to. I won’t let them.

Honestly, it’s kind of fun tearing stuff apart. I’ve always enjoyed making a mess of things. I only wish you could be awake to see just how strong your lover can be. After all, I’m doing this for you. I warned them about what would happen should they lay their filthy, traitorous hands all over you. I’m simply staying true to my word!

You know firsthand that I’m a very truthful guy. I would never lie to you, My Pearl. I would rather be slow roasted over an open fire than even think to deceive you.

Aren’t I so loyal?

Oh. Right. You aren’t awake to hear my teasing. Teasing which you seem quite fond of whenever I’m with you.

I think you just like hearing my voice…

That’s okay, Beloved. I will speak for as long as you desire me to. Besides, the feeling is quite mutual.

Gods- I can’t wait to see your face when you wake up in our home, and I get to tell you everything that I’ve done for you. Finally, we can be together, free of oppressive opinions and suppressive stares. Where I’m taking you, we can be ourselves, and the magic of my ocean will keep you safe. Eventually, when you’re ready, you’ll even become like me, too.

Won’t that be incredible? Just thinking about it makes my whole body tingle.

Or maybe that’s just the change in depth.

I promise my home isn’t too much further out, and it’s in a safe area. You’ll be able to live here with me free of any restraints. I’ll be your comfort. I’ll be your guide. I will provide for you everything you will ever need.

There is nothing stopping our love now.

I’ll even make sure that no sliver of the wreckage I just caused gets to you. The currents listen to me. They’re my friends, and soon they will be yours, too.

Either way, I’m glad that’s over, because now I can focus on you! I know that you’d be celebrating with me if you were awake, but for now, I’ll simply revel in this sweet victory alone. Having you safe in my arms is enough reward, and when you wake, the true celebration will begin.

Hmm, I wonder what we should do first? Should I take you to the reefs so you can see all of the colourful coral that I’ve grown just for you? Should I present you to the schools of fish that always seek refuge around my house? Get them to revel in your beauty? Or maybe I’ll worship you in the den of our own personal sanctuary, where nothing - no one - will be able to interrupt.

My Beauty.

My Beautiful, Beloved Pearl.

I’ll admit, there’s a certain ring to those names that I enjoy. It calls to me like the cavernous songs of the sirens. An enchantment I can never seem to escape: you.

Not that I want to.

No. Never. Not since the very first time I laid eyes on you.

You’re addictive, you know that? One glance caught my attention. One melodic note of a spoken word, and I was hooked. Your eyes are deeper than the darkest sea, and I could swim in them forever. You hold me, transfixed, with your gaze whenever you look at me, and I never want it to stop.

Honestly, I can never grow tired of you looking at me. I want you to look at me, and only me. I want to be the first thing you see in the morning when you blink those glorious eyes open, and the last thing you see when you go to sleep at night. I want to wrap you in my arms and hold you close, whispering the sweetest words of all the worlds in your ears, and hear you do the same for me in return.

There is nothing I wouldn’t do for you, Beloved, and I will never hesitate to prove that to you. With me, you will never have to settle for less than what you deserve, for I will always give you every single thing your heart could ever desire.

Fuck- I can still remember the way your body trembled from the very first touch. The more I trailed my arms over your body, letting the tips of my tendrils caress your skin, the more your whole being warmed. You fit so perfectly in my hold, that I long to always touch you - to always be near you, and obey your every whim.

I am but your loyal servant, sent to worship the very depths of your soul. Your entire being calls to me, and I could bathe in your warmth for all eternity. Right now, it’s that warmth that I crave more than anything. That glorious nectar that seeps from between your legs beckons to me. One taste isn’t enough. I need to feel you flooding my every sense once more.

Sweet.

Addictive.

I could spend ages defining it, but nothing could ever truly put into words just how ethereal you are to me.

People always thought my existence was mere myth itself. Rumours and legends only meant to scare those away from pursuing adventure on the high seas. Nothing more than a fable to tell their children at night to ensure they don’t go off swimming in the bay alone.

They have always been, and will always be, wrong.

I’m as real at the tide, as sure as the sand that resides against the ocean floor. There is nothing in these waters as deadly as I am, and all those that oppose us will face my wrath.

Well, where we’re going, we won’t have to worry about being disturbed at all. Plenty of room for the both of us. Plenty of privacy. No one dares disturb that which should be left undisturbed. At least, those smart enough to.

That is, of course, unless I use my magic to let those sirens get a taste of their own medicine. Water echoes even the smallest of sounds, and yours should be heard for miles around. I can still hear your glorious voice calling out my name as you bathed me in your own sacred waters, and I want all to know that you are mine, and I am yours. For all eternity.

I’ll admit… I’m addicted to you, and I can never get enough. Though, from the way I remember your hands clinging to me that night only days ago, I don’t think you can get enough, either.

Good thing we have forever to spend fully satisfying each other!

Ah… looks like we’re finally getting close to home. I can see the familiar drop off up ahead. Don’t worry, Beloved, there’ll be plenty of air for you to breathe inside. I won’t always have to keep you covered in a veil of magic. Though, I would always like to have an arm around you. Feeling your skin pressed against my own is a sensation unlike any other, and I long to never let you go.

Perhaps I should tidy up a little more before you wake. I always have way too much energy after destroying a ship. Something about adrenaline and all that.

Perhaps when you wake up you could even help me with it… You might be a bit tired and disoriented when you wake, but my magic can help with your exhaustion. You seemed to like that that last time I used it on you.

How else could we have gone as many rounds as we did?

Oh, you flatter me by pulling yourself in closer to me subconsciously when I shift into such a basic form. It easier to move around like a human within my home when it’s drained like this, and besides, I haven’t exactly shown you my entire true form yet. The last thing I want to do is scare you as soon as you wake up. You’ve already suffered the trauma of being stolen away from me today. I don’t want to make things worse.

There. All you need to do is rest now.

In my arms? Well, who am I to pull away from My Pearl when you’re clinging onto me so tightly in your sleep?

I truly can never say no to you…

Just rest, Beloved. This creature shall keep you safe, tucked away deeply in his heart for all eternity. Once you open those glorious eyes of yours, our own adventure will start.

Just you and me, forever.

I promise.

#cultofdionysusnet #mfu-net #yandere felix #yandere stray kids #yandere skz #yandere kpop #felix smut #felix scenarios #skz smut #stray kids scenarios #skz imagines #stray kids imagines #kpop smut #kpop au #kpop scenarios #kraken au #chubby reader

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iloveyouemanuelmarco · 2 months

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I don't understand how Vivziepop still has a fanbase anymore that unironically still supports her after all the scenarios of controversy where she brushes it off as petty internet drama from "petty envious antis" atleast before she runs off into her crowd of chronically online and discourse obsessed problematic adults on any social media platform(Mostly Twitter to be specific but still)who are just a group of yes-men for her to use to attack not even only children on the interwebs who just happen to be uncomfortable with the fandom she's cultivated over her career of a wannabe artist and animator, but other adults too who by the way are somewhat consisting of survivors of abuse, rape, are LGBTQIA+, BIPOC, neurodivergent/disabled and possibly more. It honestly makes me sad as it does angry because the concept of the show isn't that crazily impossible in my opinion atleast and it could of had so much potential to do way better if not only the obvious subject matters were treated with much more care in an attempt to rework the scripts but also if Viv didn't do half of the stuff she did just a bad person in general. Like...is that really the best you can do for your fanbase???You cannot be not-joking atleast a little bit when you're telling me that apparently not only are children not being stopped from engaging with an 18+ rated show(even though the amount of vulgar language is done so poorly that it could pass of as your average failed Newgrounds animation), but that they're literally being encouraged to interact with the fandom???Are you out of your mind???Don't even get me started on the other stuff that you all probably already know about such as the blatant mockery of S.A., abusive relationship dynamics, hypersexuality in victims of said scenarios that happen irl, having other such "jokes" including some sort of rapey scene at all and having someone who actively and openly supports "non-con" fiction???!!!! What is wrong with you people??And apparently I have to share the home of the beautiful planet Earth with these idiots choosing to have the cognitive dissonance and brain function of an almost-empty and dusty old peanut...Along with the fact that the woman herself treats her animators at Spindlehorse Productions(her studio I suppose)like utter dog-dung, she has proven to drag anyone who defies her problematic and dare I say dangerous behavior through the mud and gets away with it all because of her stans/fans making her the "face of independent animation/indie animators". I honestly feel so awful for those who may have genuinely looked up to her at one point, atleast not knowing how much of a horrible person she was behind the scenes of the computer screen but its whatever anyways I guess. If any aspiring makers of cartoons or comics(LGBTQIA+/BIPOC/Disabled preferred) would like to promote the stuff they male down below in my comments section than feel free☆. It's the least anyone can do under the storm that's being made and has happened for such a long time ughh. The project should have been attempted a little more to be prevented from the confines of those echo-chambery and gross parts of fandom-centric social media communities and It's so discouraging how long this has been going on too, but hey. She's the lady that unironically made a literal pedo character that she attempted to present as a villain while just having the original character end up as a sort of "cool af bad-girl aesthetic uwu" character. Oh my fucking God please stop at once I swear to the highest Heavens and the deepest, most darkest depths of Hell(Ironic).

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youweresomagnetic · 5 months

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Say Don't Go // Tom Blyth

Pairing // Tom Blyth x reader

//known it from the very start, we’re a shot in the darkest dark.//

You knew coming into this movie a several months ago that you couldn’t let your feelings for your co-star, Tom, go to your head. From the first reading you two shared, there was something inside of you that longed for him. You couldn’t decipher whether it was his wavy brown hair that made his baby blue eyes stand out, his charming British accent, or his easiness that made being around him so comfortable. Probably all of it. Meeting him flipped some sort of switch inside of you that made you think about him 24/7 and you couldn’t turn it off. If you knew taking the movie was going to hurt this bad, you probably wouldn’t have taken it. But how could you not? This was your first big break after doing smaller acting gigs for years, and with the movie being based on a New York Times bestselling book it was already going to be a hit. The internal battle naturally ended with you convincing yourself that you could suppress these feelings until filming was over and then move on to your next job. If anything, you could use these feelings to your advantage and allow them to show during takes. You knew you were a great actor. It was proven when you landed this role of a lifetime, but there was no need for acting when it came to you two playing love interests. At least on your side anyway. You’ve come to love him, but you knew you couldn’t. He had a girlfriend.

You quickly snap back to reality from daydreaming about him as he casually calls out “hey,” from across the room where he just finished shooting his last scene of the day. He swiftly throws on his jacket, slings his bag over his shoulder and then walks towards you with a delicate smile on his face that makes your heart do a small flip in your chest. His smile is the most beautiful smile you swear you’ve ever seen.

“Want to go grab a bite?” he asks breaking you from daydreaming. Again.

Of course you want to say yes, but spending a million hours a day with him already has your heart in shambles. No need to add to the heartbreak. Although recently, you’ve been filming scenes separately and haven’t seen him around as much. It’s hard not to miss him. Feelings aside, you’ve found a true friendship in him. You just wish your heart would’ve allowed the feelings to stay at a friendship level.

“I don’t know, it’s been a long day and I-”

“No excuses,” he playfully cut you off. “I was getting used to having you around so much.” His smile faded slightly as he paused and looked into your eyes like he wanted to say something more, then decided not to. A short moment passed then he continued, “I know even if you’re not hungry you’re always down for a drink.” He winked as he finished that last sentence. He was right. He doesn’t know that you drink around him to swallow your feelings though. He grabbed you by the arm and said, “come on, first glass on me.” You can’t help the pink that rushes to your cheeks as he leads you towards the exit.

There’s a small pub about a block away from where your movie is being filmed. It’s become an all too familiar place as it’s where you find yourselves whenever you get a chance for a break. The food is decent, the drinks are good, and it’s a chill, private atmosphere. No one bothers you and you can simply just be. A pang of bitter sweetness hits you as you realize you’re going to deeply miss this place when filming wraps.

You find your usual booth near the back while Tom stops at the bar for the drink that he promised you. You take in the warm and comfortable atmosphere and feel thankful for evenings like this. A few minutes go by before he slides into the seat across from you with drinks and some fries for you two to split.

“So where is your girlfriend tonight?” you ask genuinely curious because it’s already getting late, and you’re surprised that he didn’t want to head home to her. Or to the hotel rather since she sometimes comes into town to be with him.

“She’s out of town right now on a job, and currently working crazier hours than we are.” he states.

You found it shocking that anyone could work more hours than you’re already putting in, but his girlfriend is also in the film industry, so you understand that it just comes with the territory. “Ah, I see.” you say before sipping down some wine. You smile lightly at the fact that he knew your favorite without having to tell him.

Before long you check the time and realize that 2 hours have flown by. You’re shocked every single time by how quickly time goes by when you’re with him. You wish it didn’t. Then you start realizing how quickly the whole thing is flying by. The filming, the long days on set starting to feel like short ones when you look back on them, the early mornings spent around your hair and makeup crew, the coffee runs to make it through the longest days, the laughs shared between everyone, and of course evenings like these. Fuck you’re going to miss these evenings. You feel a deep ache in your chest as you already feel this moment turning into a memory. It’ll all be over and gone too quickly. He will be over and gone too quickly. Suddenly your thoughts are racing one hundred miles per hour. You want to tell him that you hope you can still stay friends even after all the press runs and you’ve moved onto future separate projects. You want to tell him how much you love his friendship and how it's come to mean so much to you over these past several months, and how much you’ve loved every memory that you’ve made together, and how much you love him- “I love you.” you spit out before you even had time to stop yourself.

Time stood still.

You are in utter disbelief with yourself and more than anything you just want to run and hide. You would do anything to be anywhere else in this moment. You knew it was the alcohol talking. You knew you should’ve only had one glass. But one quickly turned into three, and anyone who knows you knows that three may as well have been five or six.

You stare blankly at each other. His face is unreadable. You secretly pray to whoever is listening that this is just a dream.

“I just mean that I’m so thankful that you got cast with me. I couldn’t have asked for a better person… I’m going to miss this, and I love you for everything you’ve done to help make this something unforgettable.” you ramble hoping that was a nice enough save to cover your ass.

//the waiting is a sadness, fading into madness.//

There’s only silence between you two. There are a few other people in the pub enjoying drinks in comfortable presences around you, sharing laughs and you find yourself jealous that you’re not them right now. You feel yourself slipping into madness as the stillness between you and Tom drags on. You find yourself holding your breath in fear over the fact that you can’t tell what he’s thinking right now. You and Tom have always been able to read each other ever since you got close. Spending countless days with someone allows that to happen eventually. But right now, you’re even more scared that he could read you. Did he see past the excuse you tried to make? What if you haven’t been hiding your feelings as well as you thought you have? Does he know how you feel about him? You’re convinced he knows now. You can’t wait for him to speak anymore; you need to leave. You need fresh air. Or literally anything else. You begin sliding out of the booth and you feel his rough hands land on top on yours, stopping you. His eyes demand eye contact with yours. His eyes as blue as the prettiest ocean you can imagine, his eyes that feel like home, you give in.

“Tell me.” He begs with a softness to his voice that you aren’t sure you’ve heard before.

This time there’s no questioning what he’s thinking. You know he’s asking for truth. Of course he knows you well enough to have read through the lame excuse. You retract your hands and fall back against the booth seat trying to regain comfortability, but there’s nothing comfortable about this.

“You already know,” you whisper then sigh before continuing, “I meant it.”

//why’d you whisper in the dark just to leave me in the night?//

You brush your anxieties to the side and look up at his face. He looks…sad? Are tears forming in the corners of his eyes? You’re not talking anymore, it’s his turn.

“I love you, too.”

You’re paralyzed by his words, but you can tell by the way he said it that it’s not that easy. There are too many improbabilities forcing you two apart. You should be happy at his confession. Instead, you’re left feeling emptier than before. It’s almost worse knowing he feels this way but will ultimately return to the one he loves most. You wish you never would have spoken. You wish he would’ve just pretended to not hear you say it. Anything other than this, because you know what comes next. Work will continue around drowned out feelings that can’t be acknowledged from this moment forward. Neither of you have to say it, you can feel it. This night will stay a secret.

Through falling tears, you and Tom share a look of understanding. You love each other. But you can’t. This time when you slide out of the booth and walk toward the exit of the tiny pub that was once a happy place now turned into a heartbreaking memory, he doesn’t stop you. Halfway to the door, you’re holding out hope for him to say, “don’t go.” You would’ve stayed forever if he did.

#tom blyth #taylor swift #say don't go #tom blyth x reader #tom blyth fanfiction #tom blyth fic #tbosas #the hunger games #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #tom blyth imagine #coryo snow #tom blyth x you

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ieatangstforbreakfast · 7 months

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Pairing ೃ⁀➷ 𝐄𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐡 𝟒𝟐! 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐬 x Fem! Reader

Summary ೃ⁀➷ Lovers have secrets of their own, no matter how much they come to trust each other, whether it be a past mistake or an unspoken trauma. For you and Miles, however, your secrets came in the form of hidden identities— one being a masked vigilante, and the other a mastermind.

Genre ೃ⁀➷ Forbidden love, mutual pining, angst♡

Tags ೃ⁀➷ Both are artists, reader is from a very wealthy family, both are living double lives, underaged smoking, reader is female and uses she/her pronouns, forbidden love (ish?), swearing, daddy issues, mommy issues, reader is unhinged, both are mentally unstable, lots of flirting.

Author's Note ೃ⁀➷ SUPEERR sorry for the late update! i went through a hellish week but I really wanted to go on with the story 😭 i wrote down the setting so the ending’s kinda set in stone, so buckle your seatbelts and prepare yourself for a ride.

Tag list ೃ⁀➷ @sakura-onesan @coffeeandtealol @luvjunie @noetophat @proudgojofucker [CAN THE OTHERS REDO THEIR NAMES I CANT FIND YALLS ACCOUNTS IM SCARED OF TAGGING THE WRONG PEOPLE IM SO SO SORRY IM NEW TO THIS]

⚠️ 𝐓𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 ⚠️ PLOTTTTT. This chapter onward will mark the beginning of heavy themes. There will be mentions of death, manipulation, discussion of political issues, and profane language. Discretion is advised.

FIC MASTERLIST

Previous chapter || Next chapter

And when the rain stopped, you two were back to the same scene, but with your hand on his sleeve.

You and Miles walked down the same Brooklyn road, your fingers pinching the corner of his jacket while he led your bike on with his free hand. Your shoes crunched against the autumn leaves, each step like a snapping twig, marking your each step.

Even at its darkest, Brooklyn never slept along with its sisters. The bright windows, the music playing from the underground bars, and the other couples maneuvering through the night like mice on the run. Still, everything seemed lazier and slower— and you didn’t know if it was just Miles or the atmosphere in general. Miles rambled on and on about his childhood show, going on about how his seven-year-old-self thought olives would be the greatest thing to snack on after seeing Jerry pine after it so much, and how after plopping it into his mouth changed the entire course of his life.

“Ever since then, I never ate another goddamn olive for the rest of my damn life.”

You laugh at his dramatics, at the way he shakes his head, but despite the dramatic way he moved, Miles never shook the arm your hand was clinging onto— you needed it more than his story-telling.

“I mean, olives do look like grapes, so I kinda understand the confusion.”

“That’s the biggest foul, really: that olives look like grapes.”

“It is kinda one hell of a foul. Mine’s the fact that raisins also look like grapes.”

And the image pops in his mind like a bubble. “… Jesus. Why the hell does everything look like grapes?”

“Ionno.” You shrug. “Same thing can be said about your head, though.”

He feigns offense, parting his mouth into an ‘o’ while leaning back. “Stop projecting your grapefruit-lookin’ ass.” Miles shoots back, earning a sharp swat from you. “Fucker, you’re the one built like a bamboo shoot.”

"You're the one talkin taller than your own height, you lil, dehydrated, un-sunned potted plant lookin' ass."

You gawk at the full-blown insult, earning nothing but a guffaw from Miles who shook his head.

"I'm just kidding, my girl, m'just kidding." He swiftly pulls you closer, pulling you in with his hand over your shoulders. "You know I'm just playin' with you, ma, you're the prettiest in my eyes." The way he sweetly coos tugs at your heartstrings, your tiny giggles muffled while he sways you around.

"Apology accepted," You snicker. "Riley Freeman.”

“… Future child bride.”

“Future enemy of the state.”

“Thas why you daddy don’t want’chu.”

“At least I got a daddy.”

And the squabble just went on and on.

Tiny jabs of flirting disguised as well-crafted insults, and subtle touches concealed as playful punches. The two of you were crazy in the sort of way that only the two of you can drive each other insane.

Ironically, you loved these sorts of moments with him— just two people simpering down the streets in good ol' New York. But in the back of your mind, there was still that lingering guilt that endlessly knocked against your psyche, begging you to tell the truth.

But the truth wasn’t the hotel, or the life you were living. The truth was a decaying matter locked in a finely decorated cage, where everyone could smell the stench, but they instead choose to ignore it all for the sake of preserving peace.

Miles would never do that. He wouldn’t turn around and shrug his shoulders just for the sake of preserving whatever peace or comfort New York had— he would absolutely fucking riot to disturb the comfortable.

But the thing was, all you had left was that peace, and the slightest piece of your dignity scrapped up like leftovers of a meal.

“Hey, ma.” Miles snaps you out of your thoughts, earning nothing but a small hum from you.

“… Do you know anythin ‘bout about parallel universes?”

You pause for a moment, processing that question like a printer— eyes slowly traveling to meet his as if to confirm if what you heard was correct. Miles shifts a bit, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“.. What?” You airily query, brows knitted together in confusion. He laughs at the way your mouth hung like a lost toddler. “Parallel universes? Ionno, I just heard ‘bout it from my dorm mate.” His fingers reach to scratch the nape of his neck. “Something ‘bout there being another version of us in another universe n shit like that— slight changes, maybe?”

“.. I’ve heard about it from my Physics professor, but I never really delved much into it.”

“Well, I’ve been thinkin a lot ‘bout it.”

Your nose scrunches. “Why though?”

“Well,” The two of you start walking again, with the pace much slower. “It made me wonder if there’s another us in another universe.. Doin’ shit like this.” His hand gestured at the both of you, soon dropping by your side. “You n me, just walking and talking. I wonder if we also like each other in another universe.”

It sounded cheesy. Being lovers in more than one world.

But you liked the sound of it. Lovers.

“I probably hate you in every other universe.” You laugh, lightly pushing him away.

“Well, maybe there’s somethin’ special ‘bout me in this universe that made you fall for me.” He smoothly chimed, leaning a bit closer. You try to hold back a smile, but it still seeped in the corners of your lips.

“Ionno ‘bout that.”

His grin only widens. “You know you love me, ma.”

You stare a long stare.

I do.

“Shut up.” You mumble, pacing faster when Miles reaches out to hold your hand. “Maaaaaaaa.”

“What do you want, Miles?”

And he looks at you with those eyes of his. The kind that dragged you into this whole mess, the kind that made you crawling back in four days. Subtly, he leans down to your level, eyes in line with your own. Only then, so gently, he presses his lips against yours for a second.

"I wonder if that happens in every other universe too?"

You blink at the act, somewhat speechless.

“I’d be missin out on a lot if I don’t get to kiss you like this in every universe.”

You try to snap back at him, but you could no longer find anymore ammo to fire. Miles sets your brother’s bike aside, kicking the stand down just to take both of your hands— placing them over his shoulders.

"How about you? What do you think?" He suddenly asks. "Who would we be to each other in another world?"

There were a million thoughts blundering your mind, a sort of disarray you weren't used to— the thing was, you didn’t even know who the two of you were supposed to be to each other in this world. Everything seemed all blurry in the future, and you couldn’t even think of one for yourself.

But for once, you couldn’t help but think of what could be.

“In another universe, we’re just us.” You mumble, your fingers tickling at the back of his neck.

“In another universe, I’ll be doing painting commissions at random shops to save up for Christmas. I’ll be working at that café we saw. You’ll be there, and we’ll meet up and I’ll be the one to ask for your number.” Your hand runs down his sleeve just to intertwine your fingers with his.

“What do you mean you? You can’t do nothing, I’ll be the one asking for your number.”

Your gaze narrows. “It’s another world, Miles. We ain’t entirely sure if we’re going to be the same people.”

“You’ve got a point,” He piques. “But—“

“Let me finish.” You sigh, and immediately, he snaps his jaw shut. “… I don’t have to escape every night just to see you, nor do we have to meet exclusively every Friday and Saturday. We’ll see each other everyday, and you’ll go to my house— and my mom will make us food while going on and on about us dating, and my dad’s going to scold me to keep the door open just so he can keep an eye out on you.”

Suddenly, all the fantasies you’ve mentally illustrated for yourself every night to dwell upon came running out of your mouth.

“Maybe, I’ll have a few childhood scars, and I’ll paint my nails any color I like— I’ll get a new set monthly, and I’ll let you choose the color. We’ll walk to school together, and I’ll never miss any of your basketball games…. We’ll just be,”

Normal.

“Us.”

Realizing your rambling, you shift away a bit, somewhat embarrassed of all the stuff you’d blurted out. It’s like you could sense him trying to piece together what you’d just said. With a cautious hand, he wraps it around your waist before nuzzling his head into your hair.

"What's stopping us from being like that in this world too?"

You hold onto him a little tighter.

“… It’s getting colder these days, huh?”

Noticing your hesitance to break open, Miles decides to simply play along for now. “Yeah, it’s getting colder, ma, so you,” He softly pulls away, placing both of his hands over your cheeks. “You should start taking care of yourself or else you might start a whole new bubonic plague.”

“Why the fuck do you keep linking that to me?”

“Cause you’re a host of viral plague.”

“I’m not even sickly, damn it.” You say, while feeling an itch in your nose. “You’re just making shit up at thi— hACHOO!” You sneeze down to the ground, narrowly missing your sleeve. Miles takes a step back, shaking his head with a smile on his lips.

“… Maybe I should be a plague doctor for halloween, and you should be a medieval patient dying of the bubonic plague.”

He pictures you with comically large bags beneath your eyes, frail lips, and a white dress with its frock lost in the wind— and he’ll stand beside you, with the large black beak of the mask poking at your hair, with a large black cape flying behind his back.

“… Isn’t halloween this Saturday?” You think back with a frown. “I haven’t celebrated that in a long, long time.”

That was a lie. You’ve never celebrated halloween before.

“Huh?” He snaps in shock. “You don’t celebrate halloween?”

He watches you shrug. “It’s a kid’s thing.” Was what your Father always told you, in the same tone you were currently speaking.

“Awe man,” Miles mumbles. “… I thought you got the hint that we’re going trick or treating for our date.”

“Trick or treating?” That too, you also haven’t done. “I-Isn’t it dangerous? My mother said people would poison the candy and plant shit inside the chocolates.”

“What?” At that point, Miles was piecing together an image of your family with each passing story. “That almost never happens— who can afford poisoning children in this economy? Shit, might as well just use it on yourself with all the bills you have to pay.”

And there it goes again. The economy.

And it strikes you a bit. That guilt of being brought up pristinely uncomplicated. Privileged, as most would call it. Your problems were rather personal, never financial. Growing up, you’d been living lavishly in the comforts of your manor, never having to worry about tomorrow or next month or next year.

And, admittedly, it was unfair.

“… Miles, can I, um, discuss something with you?” You silently query, unconsciously matching your pace along with his. Miles only hums.

“Look. I don’t mean to get political, and I don’t want to sound privileged— but honestly speaking, I kinda am, and I can definitely recognize it.” You confess. “I wasn’t.. Raised in a home where we had to be conscious about money. My parents are well-off, in the way I’m sheltered as hell, but I’m not blind. I can see the city crumbling apart. My brother says that it’s all because people don’t wanna work anymore, and I never understood why.”

He raised his brows. “That’s… Well, I’m not gonna judge your brother from that alone,” Miles states, keeping in mind that he still wants to appeal to your family. “But honestly, that whole view is kinda whack. Listen, nena,” He takes a deep breath. “Imagine working your ass off nine to five— and you’re still getting paid the minimum wage. Rent is due, groceries are expensive, and you’re tired as hell, but it’s all not enough. You can’t even spend any of the money on yourself.”

“Well,” You pique. “… My father said that if the people would just stop buying irrelevant things and save up, they’d be able to live.”

Miles grimaces. “Do only the rich deserve happiness?”

Your head tilts. “Don’t they say that money can’t buy you happiness?”

He shook his head. “They say that because they’ve got the money.”

He spots the confused look on your face. Relatively, he takes your hand and further conveys. “Well, as you said, it’s a capitalist world. Only the wealthy say that because they don’t know what it’s like to be down here,” His hand points below. “In the slums, starving to damn death. Money can fix that shit. Money can fix all this, but they choose not to.”

Your mouth hung open.

“… I never thought of it that way.”

“Mhm.”

“My whole life, my parents have always chalked it up to hard work— but the city never sleeps, so it’s impossible that nobody here ain’t doing nothing.”

And it all processes through you. “Huh, it’s all.. New to me.” Naturally, your hand drags up to pluck the skin off your lips. “I never delved into that sort of issue before. My parents have always been kind of.. Sort of,”

“.. Elitist?”

“I was going to say stuck-up, but that makes so much more sense.”

“Yeah, I’m kinda seein’ it, not gonna lie.” His clicks his tongue. “Look, ion really talk ‘bout this sort of thing much, but I like discussing these sorts of things with you— ‘cuz it’s interesting seeing how open you are to these kinds of topics, even if you were raised like that.”

You turn your head to look at Miles, and your brow twitches ever so slightly at the pang of anxiety drumming at your chest.

“We’re… Really the opposites of each other, huh?”

He hums. “But in a way, we’re still kinda similar.”

“How so?” You ask, a bit dubious of the remark. You were all this, and he was all that. You doubted any sort of similarities you two had, but Miles holds your shaking hand.

“If you and I were solely made to be opposites, we’d be nemeses by now.”

And you ponder.

How long would it take before you start hating me?

How long would it take before I stop seeing that loving gaze of yours?

How long would it take before you discover the truth?

From afar, you could already spot the Gristedes building, as though it were the portal parting your world from his. You eventually take the bike back to yourself, dragging it by the handles. As the edge of the block materializes, you turn to look at the boy behind you.

“I’m gonna have to go ride back now.”

And when he draws closer, a flick of your mind takes the image of Miles’ exhausted face, assuming it’d be similar to what he’d look like once he recognizes the truth about you. You wonder if he feels it too— this strange air between the both of you, going past tension, and delving into something deeper and darker.

You’re so unsure. So afraid of how fragile this entire thing was.

“Ain’t I getting a kiss, nena?”

“You’re so needy.” You huff, opening your arms anyway. “If you get the bubonic plague, you’re gon’ be the one complaining all about it.”

“Yeah, yeah, nena, whatever you say— just gimme my kiss.”

And he penguin walks his way to you, leaning down like a kid in search of candy. Miles steps into your view, following wherever you turned— his hands making their own journey across your waistline. Your palms snake up his shoulders, heels faltering backward when he presses you up against a brick wall. Your hands fall down to grip his arms instead, head tilting ever so slightly before taking his lips.

He takes you like you were his favorite drink, digging his fingers into the side of your waist— his body melting like ice on a summer day. With his hand, he angles your chin much higher, while yours trail up his chest, parting your lips to gasp for air, only for Miles to steal it away from you.

And when you part, you’re left a heaving mess.

“Trick or treating on Saturday?” He asks again. “Please?”

“… I—“

“I’ll take a bite of every candy you’ll get just to make sure it ain’t poisoned.”

You laugh at his remark.

“Fine.”

It was strange, almost unfamiliar to you, to meet the gate of the manor at this time of night.

It had you questioning your choices, your rationality, and the soundness of your mind. Your mind wasn’t entirely sound to begin with, fortunately for you Miles liked that about you.

After bribing the security, tossing Antonne’s bike to the side, and creeping into the damn place, suddenly, you’re thrust back into the stillness of your family’s generational household.

The marble tiles, the limestone brick walls, and the grandeur steps that parted by the center were all normalcy to you— in spite of how you’d always deemed your family as ‘capable’ to Miles.

Instead of childhood photos and potted plants, you were greeted by the sight of marvelously carved statues and antique paintings. Rather than a home, it felt more like a museum to you— but in a way, it was also your fault for keeping everything too clean.

It’s unfair.

One day you’ll leave this very house and leave it under the care of Antonne who hardly bore any interest for managing things. Despite the way you’ve learned to force yourself to take interest in numerous fields of whatever-the-fuck, this manor was something you treasured along with the hotel. Your father was well aware of your passion, your skills in tidiness, and that was the reason why he appointed you as Antonne’s proxy initially, but you were greedy for more.

You were a little too greedy to want Miles and the life you’d desired for the longest time. You didn’t know what the future was like, and you’ve grown too sick of having everyone else decide your own future for you. This life of infinite spending and glamour was the only life you’d ever known, and you weren’t prepared to abandon it all. As your mother said, no one’s privileged enough to be born as wealthy as you, and you’d likely carry that sort of financial ignorant bliss to the grave.

But Miles didn’t have that.

His family didn’t have generational heirlooms worth thousands of dollars, nor did they have antique paintings bought from highly private auctions. His home only had two bedrooms, unlike your own which housed tens of them.

You and him were astronomically different in more ways than one.

One of these days, those differences might end up either empowering or deadly to one of you.

Step. Step. Step.

As you treaded up the staircase, your hand jolts away from the icy ivory-pillared railings, cussing a subtle “Fuck,” as you went on. In the dead of the night, the halls appeared eerier and darker— as though you could see your own ancestors walking past the red carpets with their frilly gowns and downcast looks of disappointment. Like you could see them shaking their heads just after seeing you there, wearing Miles’ hoodie.

A scandal capable of ruining the family name. As if Antonne wasn’t enough, you ended up falling for a boy you’d likely run away with had you ever gotten the chance.

Elopement. Dramatically cliché, and somehow it still exists in the twenty-first century— for the star-crossed lovers and the filthy rich. Or maybe you just have really bad taste in men… Or parents! Pick a struggle.

You carried your shoes along with your guilt while trudging down the corridor, knowing you’ll likely have to have someone secretive clean the mess up for you. Antonne’s room was in a separate hall, with Malachi’s closer to your own. Even then, like a mouse, you scurry in silence just so you wouldn’t get caught. When you finally reach your door, a thousand burdens escape from your shoulders, only to hear a faint click when you try to twist the handle.

Click. Click. Click. Click.

“Why won’t it fucking open?” You whisper to yourself. A few more Click Click Click Click Click’s and you manage to finally recognize that you’ve been locked out of your own damn room. You search through your clothes to find the key, only to realize that it’d been in the pockets of the hoodie you’ve left at Miles’ place. In your anxiety, you pull on the edge of your hair, cursing a million words.

I can’t wake up Malachi.

You place your hand over your mouth.

Your breaths begin to stagger, your exhaustion taking hold of you. You tug at your hair a little harder, as though your current goal was to rip your scalp out— and it hurt, it hurt like absolute hell, but nothing was up to par with the pain brought to you by your own mean mind.

But you think, and you think.

Then you lean back, take a breath, and sigh.

And the next thing you know, you’re stabbing through the lock with a knife.

Well, it was less of a stab, more like a saw to jam the bolt. It took a few several tries, but it did manage to unlock after a snap. You heave a sigh of relief, heading right in before gently closing it shut. Immediately off to rest your head against the flat of your door as a sort of celebration for your success.

“… Where have you been?”

You celebrated a little too soon, unfortunately.

Antonne stared at you from the sill of one of your opened windows, the gleam of the new dawn gleaming in pink and blue behind him, casting a long shadow that trailed past your fluffy carpet and dawned over your darkened face. Ever so slowly, he plucks the dying cigarette from his teeth, the intoxicating scent tugging at your nostrils. For once, Antonne’s taken you aback after the longest while. He looks similarly exhausted, with his unbuttoned dress shirt and disheveled hair, while also reasonably confused by your current appearance.

“I was out.” You shallowly answer, as if it weren’t too obvious. Antonne furrows his brows, only heightening the permanent arch he already endowed. At the sound of your words, he clicks his tongue and flicks the cigarette out the window.

“Was it that boy again?” He speaks a baritone lower, like something being dragged through gravel. His shoulders heightened as he rested his palms above the sill. You sense a sort of imposing façade.

“… Miles Morales?”

Your eyes flit open, ventriloquist-esque. Like a dummy brought to life to perform for the circus. At that moment, the two of you siblings began to notice the semblances mirroring your parents’ ways; the younger sister who weaponizes her own ignorance like her father, and the older brother who, like a dog, barks endlessly like their mother. Your body leans against the handle, placing all your weight down a single foot while preparing yourself for whatever Antonne’s spared to speak.

“… Fifteen years old, lives with his single mother, Rio Morales, who’s a nurse at Langone. He’s close with his uncle, Aaron Davis, and he keeps steady high marks at Visions Academy... And yet,” His gaze narrows distastefully. “Despite going to such an elite school, he continues on to live a shady life, having at least once or twice participated in vandalism, destruction of private property, and simple assault.”

Antonne eyes your reaction, but you only shrug.

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

He clears his throat.

“His father, Jefferson Davis, momentarily worked for father and applied for security three years ago.“ Antonne takes a step forward, the shadow over his face growing darker. “And on the opening night of Aureum, he signed up to take a shift at the evening party.”

Antonne stood eerily, and so did you. The tension a blur, cuttable with a single slice from the knife hidden behind you.

“Did you know about that too?”

“... What are you insinuating?”

Antonne yells out your name in a bellow, but you don’t flinch. Like a deer, round and wide, your eyes were hauntingly frozen, scrutinizing the way he heaved. He struggled to search for the words to describe you— crass, cruel, wicked, bitch. And it only mulled him downer seeing you look guiltless. With his hand, he drags you by the collar.

“You’re wearing the hoodie of a boy whose father died in the tragedy you’re fucking covering up.”

ＣＬＩＣＫ.

+17479256640 sent a picture || Just now

Aaron peers at the message at his phone, swiping it upwards, thinking it must’ve been some sort of scam or bot. He chugs down the final sip of his coffee, settling by the couch with a disgruntled moan. He rests his head by the armrest, placing his mug down by the table before him. As he stretches the ache off his limbs, another chime goes off from his phone.

He lazily plucks it from his side, wincing as the bright screen flashed him.

+17479256640 || Just now

This is your nephew, right?

ＣＬＩＣＫ.

“Shh." You pull a finger over your lips, hushing him as though he were a child. Your other hand drafts away from the lock, and you toss the knife to the side. The loud, clacking way it fell made Antonne jump. And he sees you, and the way your lips curled into this amused smile.

At that smile alone, he falters, remembering so suddenly every detail about the mother you two shared. Every strand of her beautiful hair which you endowed, the darkening of her gaze when she was having fun, and the deriding way she looked at the people she deemed inferior.

I don’t need a knife to kill you, Antonne.

That look you had, a smile which he now recognized as a sneer, was what true hatred was.

“Antonne, maybe you’re forgetting that I’m not covering up just any fuck up, I’m covering up your fuck up.”

And when you took a single step forward, all of what was left of Antonne’s confidence crumbled.

“The building collapsed because you forced the workers to rush the process of the construction— and when the media got a hold of what was happening, you ran to Switzerland with Richard just to avoid the consequences, and all of who dealt with everything was me.” You dug an accusing finger into his shoulder. “I took care of everything in your place, and I sacrificed so much for it. But when you realized how I might take over your spot in the hotel, you came back after three whole years— going through every detail of me that you could find as a weakness. Well, let me tell you one thing, my dearest brother,”

You whisper over to his ear. “You can’t beat me at a game you’ve never fucking played before.”

ＣＬＩＣＫ.

“What the fuck?”

Aaron sits right back up, clutching his phone with strength he never thought he had. Swiftly, he presses the notification— greeted with a photo of Miles and some girl walking down the streets with their hands clasped together. When the text bubble reappears, another photo surfaces with the girl’s face being much clearer. A sense of familiarity strikes him, and he couldn’t quite place what it was.

He zooms into the picture, fingers grasping the bottom of his chin while scourging through his memories.

His eyes trace the details of your hair, every curve and curl— your eyes, downcast and very attentive of Miles’ presence. So aware of him, it’s as though he was all that was left in the world. And he looked at you the same way. For a moment, it was like witnessing Rio and Jeff once more, with those gazes smiles.

‘Pretty. The kind of pretty who knows what she wants, and she can use her own face to get it. When you say something stupid, she’ll let you know that what you said was stupid with just her eyes alone— and it’ll shut me up, and I love it.’

Those were Miles’ exact words. For the last two months, you were all he ever really talked about. Seeing you now, Aaron couldn’t help but raise his brows at the sight of your hand intertwined with his nephew’s. He ought to be lying if he ever said that Miles was exaggerating— you were definitely a looker. And that was what unsettled him the most. He had this gut feeling he couldn’t shake, a burden gnawing at his stomach.

He soon drags his thumbs across the keyboard, typing out immediately.

Aaron Davis || Just now

who’s this?

ＣＬＩＣＫ.

“… What’s happened to you?”

It was genuine. And it wasn’t just curiosity, Antonne was seriously wondering with worry.

“What have you done to the sister I grew up with?”

The sister he grew up with?

Antonne could still remember, every aspect and smile you bore three years ago. And he remembered as though it’d all disappeared just yesterday. You were a smiley little girl— always a little too smart for her own good, and always a little too cheeky. But you were shy, and often kept to yourself. Even during those days, you often hid yourself in the shadows, crawling into the corner of every room you entered with a book in your hand.

He recognized you then. Now you were a complete stranger.

Your hand drops, and you shove your shoulder against Antonne’s. “Grew up with? You never grew up.” You trudge towards the window, closing it shut as soon as you got to the handle. “Meanwhile, I had to be an adult as soon as possible because if not me, then who? Mom’s not here, Dad’s a mess, Malachi’s ten years old, Montrell’s in London, and you ran away.” Your body sinks down to the floor. “When I’m with Miles, I feel… Sixteen, like how I should be.”

“… But if you’d just give me the job—“

“I’m not giving you shit.” You spat. “Not yet, at least, stop fucking rushing.”

Antonne stood, watching you sit by the sill, hand over your nightstand to reach out for your vape.

And the way it exits, so lividly and hatefully, like how mother would smoke after every silent dinner.

You were everything like her.

No matter how much you tried to erase yourself from your mother’s legacy, it didn’t help that you were the spitting image of her.

Even in the way you struggled, you were still your mother’s daughter.

“You.. Remind me of...” Mother. The comment slips after seeing her image overlap with your silhouette. You already knew the ending of the sentence as soon as it exited his lips. As the smoke trickles past your teeth, you look up.

“… You want me to do what she would’ve done?”

The way the moonlight pooled before you reminded him of how the glass shards glimmered around your mother after she’d wrecked her own room.

“You’re already doing what she did,” He murmurs. “Doing stupid shit for stupid ideals.”

You grab whatever you can off of the nightstand, throwing it right at Antonne who steps back from the impact of the book. As you heave, he stared hauntingly.

“You think you’re the only one trying so hard in life? I’m also doing my fucking best. You’re basing me off of a mistake I did when I was seventeen.” He took a step forward. “You weren’t the only one forced into adulthood. Instead of playing soccer and going out on first dates, dad made me run a hotel. Sure! I didn’t do half as great as you’re fucking doing, but once you fuck up, dad’s going to abandon you too.”

“I know that.” You shakily admit. “I know that no matter what I fucking do, the hotel’s going to end up in your hands, and all I’ve got is a shitty arranged marriage bound to go down the drain and a few many nights with too much wine and regrets ahead of me.” You rub your hands together for the sake of warmth, your voice growing shakier as it settles to break.

“But what I want, what I really want— I just want dad to look at me and think, ‘oh, maybe she can take hold at least a part of the conglomerate!’ instead of selling me off!”

It’s as though the Hotel was Antonne’s toy, and you’d been polishing it all these years with great care, knowing damn well he’d leave it off to rot.

But you never wanted that toy in the first place. You wanted your father to see you taking care of that toy, in hopes he’d gift you one that you could take care of for yourself.

“The reason why he’s not giving you any of it is b—“

“Because he doesn’t want the Fisks to use me after the marriage, I know.”

You run your fingers through your hair, tugging as though it were about to fall of your scalp.

“I’ve found… A way to escape it.”

ＣＬＩＣＫ.

+17479256640 || Just now

Do you recognize the girl beside him?

You replied || Just now

No.

His knee jumps along to the drumming of his chest. He thinks of Miles, wondering if he’d been kidnapped, coerced, or attacked. He knew the boy— he’s strong enough to fend for himself against many things. He’s well taught, he’s a genius and…

He’s a fucking fool for his lady. Just like his father.

God, who knew that the lone weakness of the Prowler was a sixteen-year-old with a pretty face?

Ding.

+17479256640 || Just now

Sent an attached file

ＣＬＩＣＫ.

Ding. Ding. Ding.

You and Antonne’s heads swerve at the sound of your phone’s ringing. Begrudgingly, you pushed yourself off of the floor, scrambling to get your phone. With another hit off of the pen, you answer the call.

“What is it?”

And in the background, you hear yelling— commands being thrown in chaos and panic. You look at the ID, finding out that it’s one of your father’s aides. With a hushed whisper and a jagged breath, he reports.

“The Warehouse is being raided, miss–“ A gunshot soars through the air, chillingly searing through a momentary silence. The man whimpers, his voice muffled by his hand. “Raided?” You repeat, voice coming to a hush. “Raided by who?”

And with his jaded breath, he answers.

“.. The Prowler.”

246 notes · View notes

tornoleander · 8 months

Text

Jay’s been through it

CW: Sexual assault Implications brief discussion of sexual predators + lotta swearing

(Please let me know if I missed any content warnings and Check if you are ok to hear this theory before reading. This type content has potential to help or hurt you depending on who you are as is the nature of problematic themes. Safety over curiosity.)

This is cannon compliment. Uhh kids show?! Yeah I know shouldn’t really have these themes but they’re there hear me out. Spoilers for season 6/8 I guess.

I’m bothered by this scene and how It connect to certain events so I’ll cautiously share

Sons of Garmadon Episode 7:

Here is the clip

Kelo asks “Where’s the green Ninja”

WHAT THE FUCK! Dude the double take I had when first watching this.

So he looked at Kelo’s… lower half and basically said ‘Cole shut up that man’s crotch is too close’. And not in Jay joking tone, he’s like dead serious and stressed. (The scene just cuts away after)

Jay you ok? Why is it implied some guy might have tried something?! Why else would he say that?! Who the FUCK touched my boi? What even is this scene?!

The fact it’s Jay that said it out of everyone is bad because it’s been implied to him before.

So let’s talk about the darkest Ninjago theory that’s been quietly circulating for a while in fan content. For simplicity I’ll call it captains quarters theory, If you’re unfamiliar I’ll explain.

Basically some speculation happened because of a certain villain that displayed subtle ongoing predatory behavior. And a part when Jay was his prisoner that caused people to worry what happened before the scene started.

As some of you have caught on It’s the scene where Cole rescues Jay from Misfortunes Keep.

He didn’t find Jay in his cell where he should have.

Cole found him beaten as ninjago has ever depicted except when literally dying.

Alone

no explanation given.

In the corner of Captains Quarters.

Nadakhan’s room.

Dude :(

And his concern afterwards.

And thinking he didn’t deserve saving.

“Thank you for trying to save me,-

It’s Just a lot.

Doing awful things to make Jay wish it all away is terrifyingly in Nadakhan’s character. Not just the sadistic torture part.

Nadakhan has many behaviors similar to a sexual predator. I’ll go over it briefly but see my last post for a detailed analysis.

He Seeks out vulnerable people for victims. The Ninja are teens and he waits till or makes them emotionally vulnerable. The way he talks about gifting his wishes and giving his victims anything they desire can be read as grooming behavior. His secrecy in getting all the ninja alone and doesn’t even talk to his crew about his plans. Manipulative and Controlling obviously.

And the most glaring issues he’s WAY tooo fucking touchy all the time. Like watch his body language during Skybound and see how uncomfortable it is

“Too slow junkyard boy”

Not to mention how explicitly he doesn’t care about consent….

And “If you don’t come willingly Nya, I will take you regardless” followed by a forced marriage.

Side note he doesn’t refers to Jay with his name and the things he calls him…uggh “What lies is our little canary whistling now, hmm?”

So… It’s cannon compliant that something was attempted or happened to Jay. Bruh wtf.

Well if you feel like you resonate with this or it may help there a few great fanworks that explore this I can recommend if interested. Mmm comfort angst.

(Note don’t bother anyone for enjoying Nadakhan as a character. It’s fiction and it hurts no one)

#captain’s quarters theory #ninjago #ninjago jay #ninjago ninja #ninjago nadakhan #ninjago nya #ninjago thoughts #ninjago theory #ninjago angst #tw sex abuse #cw swearing #tw predator #tw implied abuse #cw sa implied #cw language #ninjago skybound #Oli speaks #Oli’s Skybound insanity #skybound slander

237 notes · View notes

iheardarumorthings · 2 years

Note

HEY BESTIE CAN U MAKE A BLURB OR SOMETHING ABOUT FIVE HARGREEVES DURING THE FIRST EP OF S3 like yk the one where he saw delores after jayme spits on him and the reader who happens to date him saw it and like "wtf is he doing" and heard the name delores coming out of his mouth and the reader just goes silence after that scene BECAUSE THE READER IS THINKING ABOUT IT A LOT LIKE "is he actually still in love with a mannequin" and like very angsty afterwards but Five confronted her why she's being so quiet after their visit at the sparrows and the rest is up to u :] TYSM IDK ITS MY 1ST REQUEST ACTUALLY AND I CANTTT STOP THINKING ABT S3

ANGSTANGSTANGST

warnings: i think there's swearing, female reader (in my mind, but i can't remember using pronouns), angst. hardcore angst

tags: @mad-elia

PERFECTION

You were both running to get to Allison, his arm was around your waist, the other arm stretched toward the cornered woman.

“Thanks,” she heaved once the three of you made it to the upstairs.

“No problem,” Five said.

And then you saw her. She was a taller woman with electric black hair and green eyes.

He told you guys to go, that he’d handle the woman. While Allison ran, you lingered, hiding behind the wall, watching.

He hit her over the head and she let out a groan of pain. Good. He could handle anything, your boyfriend. You had no doubt he’d be able to handle this easily; after all, he was probably the quickest thinker out of everyone. He could do anything and everything and that was only one reason you were irretrievably, desperately in love with the man.

And then came the spit, along with a hiss bubbling from the woman’s mouth. Jayme, you think her name was. Jayme. It sounded about right.

You wrinkled your nose, much like Five who began to berate her. “Agh! Hey, gross, alright?”

But before he could continue the usual lecture about sanitation, his face went glassy. Sweat built up on his forehead, and he began to walk around almost aimlessly.

“What the hell?” you heard him whisper. His eyes were directed toward the stairs, as were Jayme’s.

You ran out, looking at him, but didn’t touch him. Disturbing people when they’re in a trance could end dangerously, you heard.

“What did you do to him?” you whispered, but she heard it and only smiled. It wasn’t one of those soft smiles; it was something similar to Five’s smile when he was irked. It was crooked, fake.

“I’m only showing him what he wants, kid.”

“Dolores?” Five whispered. You could feel your heart shatter.

The mannequin; that mannequin that sat with the both of you through the darkest nights of the apocalypse. She was there through everything; he always seemed to choose her over you. Even after you two were together. Dolores this; Dolores that; “Dolores would look good in this, wouldn’t she?”; “Dolores, you’re perfect”; “Dolores, I love you”.

You thought it was over. You thought he was over the stupid mannequin; you thought he loved you, only you. You thought that you two were meant for one another, the stupid soulmate shit everyone preached. But, you could see now, you clung on too tightly to the dreams a little girl would have.

You could see him break out into a smile, a genuine one. “Dolores.”

And then came the italian.

“Really? Italian? Holy shit. Do you think I could get out of this without fighting you?” you asked Jayme. She raised an eyebrow at you before quickly turning to Five. “I’m way to tired for-”

He began to make out with thin air.

Well, fuck.

“Okay, I’m just going to go,” you said, holding back the tears that threatened to spill.

You only just turned your back when you heard Five tumble down the stairs.

~*~

“Just gonna sit. I’m just gonna sit for a minute,” Luther groaned.

Your bones were cracking. You could practically collapse right there, plopping down on the top of the bench, lying there, mimicking Klaus on the table next to yours.

“Oh, I’m cracking,” Klaus said, a grit to his voice. You could second that.

“You all good, Klaus?”

“Fine, (Y/N/N), you?”

“Could be better.”

Five climbed on top of the table, sitting on the edge and placing your head gently in his lap. He began to run his fingers through your hair, his rhythm was constant. His love wasn’t. He grazed a cut and you hissed.

“That’s one hell of a cut, Sweetheart,” he mused quietly. You used that as an excuse to get out of his lap.

“I’m fine.”

You could see him flinch- just barely, not enough to catch if you weren’t paying close attention- at the slight harshness in your tone.

Good.

~*~

“CHET! Mon frère! I’d like my usual suite, por favor!” Klaus announced excitedly to the man at the front desk. He was older, his wrinkles prominent, but his hair still maintaining a blondish color that grasped onto hints of youth.

“I’ve never seen you before,” Chet deadpanned.

“See? Told you. Discreet.”

“Great job, Klaus,” you giggled; in turn, he wrapped an arm around you and wrestled you into his side.

“Don’t sass me, kiddo. There is such thing as a time out corner, you know.”

The dog’s whimper interrupted the conversation very quickly.

“Please stop scaring my dog,” Chet said.

“We need some rooms, please.”

“Super.” Chet pulled out a sign with the words only a nightmare could hold. “And how will we be paying today?”

Well shit.

“Fine,” Luther said. “Empty your pockets. Come on; something.”

You dug around in your pockets, finding a dagger and an extinguished cigarette.

“(Y/N)! Come on, really?” Five scolded.

“As if you haven’t had a cigar before.”

“Condoms?” Luther asked.

“I think you can exchange those for cash,” Klaus replied, causing you to giggle.

“Come on, you two, put the knives away!”

Luther looked around. “Oh, all right,” he sighed, removing his watch. Klaus marveled at it as he handed it to Chet. Examining it, Chet grabbed three room keys.

“Well, let’s Brady Bunch this bitch.”

~*~

Only one room had one bed, so you and Five were assigned to that one.

“Let’s unpack. Settle in.”

“And what do we have to unpack?” you questioned, eyebrow cocked.

“Yes, Darling, isn’t that liberating?”

“Fair enough.”

“Alright then,” Five said. “Let’s fix you up.”

“What do you mean?” you asked.

You didn’t want him touching you anymore. You didn’t want him lying to you anymore.

“You know what I mean.”

“Fine. I’ll get Allison in here-”

“Why Allison?” he asked, eyebrows furling. You could see the hurt flash in his eyes. Your heart broke and soared at the same time.

“You know why, Five. I saw everything.”

“Everything? I don’t get it.” He approached you, reaching out. You pulled back. He took another step forward. This kept going until your back hit the wall. He quickly brought his arm up, trapping you there. “I don’t understand. Why can’t I take- what did you see?”

You laughed, but stared at his arm. He was serious.

His other hand made its way to your hairline, brushing it softly. “I don’t understand.”

You recoiled, causing him to flinch once more.

“Sweetheart, we’re done. It’s all over; no more apocalypse, no more nothing. This is it! We can be happy- just… tell me what happened. I’ll fix it. I swear I will. I can’t afford to lose you after everything. I’ll fix everything, I promise, just please tell me what-”

“I saw you making out with thin air.”

“After what Jayme did? I thought I told you to run-”

“I hung back to make sure there wasn’t any funny business.” His arm loosened and you made your exit, walking toward the door. He didn’t jump toward you. He didn’t do anything. He just looked. “Turns out, there was some funny business. You’re still hung up on Dolores.”

“No,” he whispered. “No, (Y/N), I swear to God, I-”

“I heard everything, Five. So, we’re hanging out here for the next few days and then I’m out. I’m sorry. I can’t do this anymore.”

“(Y/N), I love you. Not Dolores, you.”

“I have come second to her after years, Five. Years I have waited for you to come around, and when you finally did, I was stupid enough to believe it was true. I was foolish enough to believe you could actually love me, that someone would actually love me. But, of course, I should’ve known: you can’t get over something so perfect that quickly.”

“You are perfection,” he whispered, tears in his eyes. “You-”

“No, Five. You can’t- I know what I saw. I know what you want, and that’s not me. Now, if you excuse me, Allison will only be available for so long. I’m going to need this cut fixed.”

You walked out the door with tears blurring your vision.

#five hargreeves #five hargreeves x reader #five hargreeves x you #five x reader #five x you #the umbrella academy #tua #the umbrella academy x reader #tua x reader #tua x you

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chocsra · 7 months

Text

"Birds in the House of Flies."

15! Chuuya x gn! asa mitaka! reader

A/N: genuinely sorry but im gonna have trouble posting since tests are a BITCH DAMN, im sorry if u sent a request itll take some time thank you guys 😭 ALSO SORRY AB THE ONE BED TROPE THINGY IM STILL WORKING ON IT WILL BE POSTED TMRW . also asa mitaka is like the only character i kin besides shoko 😭 thank uuuu for the request 🙈

content: based off the building scene in csm, oneshot, slight angst?, pre-relationship, holding hands 🥺, ooc, mentions of suicide, mafia chuuya, civilian reader, slight crack, fluff mentions of girl once

"Fuckin' hang on!!"

Those three words echoed loud in the cold air admist the darkness below your figure, each passing second felt more like an anomaly than the present taking over it's future. A dark whirling pressure pulls you down more, a completely dark void which surrounded you fully, an emptiness that induced fear, unknowingness, it was uncanny.

Despite the dreading pull along your feet, the same body parts you hated for walking - it walked you to your worst and hated places, it held you up when you would much rather decompose in the filth of your bed, something clung onto your hand and held you up even when the only vision you see is a complete reflection of your thoughts, empty.

Sometimes, you hated touch - that was a lie, you hate touch. You hate it when you get a hug that held no value, you hate it when others send warmth to your body, your cold, without any second thought. However, the hand that held yours somehow felt like holding a mug of hot tea, like intaking hot soup relaxingly burning down your throat.

The warmth that held you was a boy, you noticed the ivory complexion laced upon his warm hands, a different feeling than when he was wearing cold, leather gloves. "Dude- you gotta be shittin' me.." a husky voice sighs from the other side, hands deeply clung onto your own in a gravitational pull.

"I'm okay with falling! Just let me go.." you mumble, now you wouldn't have to meet expectations, or feel the dread of waking up ij the morning. You watched as the ability you were trapped in completely used your greatest fear against you; the dark.

You weren't sure how you got into this situation, when you were younger - some people were gifted with special abilities that defy science, yours was no different; but instead of joining an organization to be against or with humanity, you lived your life as somebody normal would.

Only now, your ability got sold for a high price on the black market, not only do criminals desire your skill, but government workers too; strangers from fucking hell. You were taken into the backropes of the Port Mafia, reigning from Yokohama, Japan; the wish was to transport you back to Yokohama in one piece, fuifilled by a trusted mafioso, Nakahara Chuuya.

He was like any other boy your age, he was a nice guy, actually; just in the wrongest, most immoral line of work, at the ripe age of what, sixteen?

And to you, a normal student, the normalization of superpowers was pretty crazy. Nakahara Chuuya was a shithead that showed you of that, he was chill but aggressive, moral but immoral, small but incredibly strong?

"No way I'm lettin' ya go, you're fuckin' crazy!!" he shouts, pulling your limp body up from the void, you pensively look down at the endless pit, reminicing moments where you were at peace. "I'm not crazy, you are! And stop fucking swearing!!" you scream back, dangling yourself and grasping onto the leather sleeves of his jacket.

"You stop fuckin' swearing!"

"Nuh-uh!!"

A heavy silence filled the void, and the sudden tug from his hands. "The ability uses your darkest fear against you, why the hell did you willingly fall?!" the boy shouts back, a little crack in his voice emerged, causing you to lower your eyebrows in slight embarrassment. "Because why would I keep living and fufill expectations I never asked to recieve?!" you answer, eyes flitting to every corner possible in that dark void, a star, a light - no, only his hand. "You can't be serious - I get it! Life is a bitch, doesn't mean you hafta kill yourself!" he argues, pulling you upwards as you dangle your body weight down.

"I am not killing myself!" you hiss, listening as Chuuya retorts with a scoff. "Yeah, you just let yourself fuckin' fall." he chews on his bottom lip stressfully, "Think of all the amazing shit you can live for; dogs, puppies, smoking!!"

"Gross!! Don't you know how much damage that smoking causes your lungs?!" you shout back, the sleeve of your uniform cuffing onto your held up arm. "Fine - alcohol!" Chuuya clicks his tongue, trying to find out luxuries of life. "That's disgusting! The blurry lines between a social drinker and an alcoholic are extremely thin!" the boy tightens his grip in annoyance, "What the hell do ya even like?! Parties?"

"Parties are a mix of sweat and loud noises that give me migraines! Not everyone is a fuckin' gangster, y'know?" the redheaded boy sighs begrudgingly, attempting to pull you up. "..I don't know what girls like, clothes...?" you pause and rub your temple with your free hand, "Just let me go already! Nobody has it worse than me!"

"Fuuck!" Chuuya groans at your dismissal, "I'll tell ya what I'm living for - I saw weird shit until I woke up in the real world when I was like 8?! Now there's a God living inside me!!" you grew silent, ".. I'm not your therapist!" you stammer, causing the boy to hiss. "[Y/N]! Let me help you so I can find out about the past I've never had." you bit your lip torn, hearing as the void went silent.

From the minimal interactions you shared with the ginger, his actions always seemed barricaded, as if he were put behind glass his whole life. And from his story, it seemed pretty right. He's far too loyal with that mafia, and blames himself for the short coming of his old organization. 'Nobody has it worse than me!' rung through your mind, god, how you internally facepalmed. You hated being touched, but you were sort of touched; and as selfish as you were, or are, you had to dress another morning successfully waking up.

"..Or else Ima call the God - O' grantors, of dark dispa-"

"Fuck! You can help me, alright?!"

#Spotify #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd chuuya #chuuya nakahara #15 chuuya #spotify #bsd x reader #15 light novel bsd #chuuya x reader #chocsra #asa mitaka #asa mitaka reader #csm #csm reader

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deepouterspacecandy · 4 months

Text

Chronicles of Ember: Part One

Violence and sexual themes. 18+ only

Sometimes, when you’re alone and feeling nostalgic, you travel back to the memory of her simply to remind yourself it happened. It was real. Her touch engraved in your mind and hidden at the depths of your soul.

A towering pang wrenches at your chest every time you let yourself remember, really remember the brush with fate you experienced that morning.

The universe gifting you more than you bargained for during an otherwise dreadful scavenging effort. And it’s the skiff you notice first, with each trip down memory lane.

The way the pebble-strewn shore had nearly swallowed it whole. You can still taste your salt-bitten lips as you approach the small boat, gnawing at the dry skin you’d long since given up finding a consistent remedy for.

You weren’t sure what you’d find as you crept closer. History and hard lessons failed to remind you to scope it out from a higher vantage point before making your approach.

Sure, the scene appeared harmless from a distance, all wrapped up in giant swaths of dried kelp and peppered with barnacles.

A beautifully cruel trap. A stroke of dumb luck between strangers at the darkest edge of a desolate coastal town.

__________

“Holy shit.”

There were no supplies inside this boat. No ropes, no fishing line. If there was ever food, it would be difficult to find proof of it.

Instead, and to your utter amazement, there lay two frail bodies with just enough colour left in their cheeks to prompt you to check for a pulse.

“Holy shit,” you repeat, louder this time. The emaciated forms don’t so much as twitch and you’re not as relieved as you might otherwise be.

Huddled together, they appear lifeless.

You check for obvious signs of infection and its feeble work. Something, or someone, riddled one of the motionless bodies with injury. You knew a knife wound, or two dozen, when you saw them. These weren’t bites or scratches. But maybe you were just hopeful.

“Can you hear me?”

It had been weeks since you’d seen another living person.

You climb inside the boat and lose your footing, algae thick beneath your shoes. You catch yourself before you end up in the same unfortunate condition—piled on top of them like a soggy bag of laundry.

Your knee catches the sharp-set limbs of the woman below you and you hear her groan.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry!” you say as you kneel beside her. “I swear I’m not trying to hurt you.”

Deep-set scars paint the face of the boy curled up next to her, the rest of his body littered with lacerations, many healing badly. A side effect of a brittle immune system, you suspect, but you’re no doctor.

This world is unkind to most everyone in it, and you presume these two have survived more horrors in recent months than most face in their lifetime, based on their physical condition alone.

The harsh reality of the matter is that there’s no workable way for you to transport both to a safer location. It’s a twenty-minute hike to your current hideout, and that’s on a good day. Today didn’t feel like one of those. Rain is coming down in a drizzle, but it’s only a matter of time and you’re sure the screams you hear beyond sight belong to an unwelcome visitor or two.

“I don’t know what to do,” you say.

The bodies inside the boat offer no suggestions. Another shriek rings out from afar and your heart hammers inside your chest.

“If you can hear me, please open your eyes.” You wait for the flicker of eyelids or a cough. Anything to show there’s something left to save.

The scream you hear next sends a frigid chill down your spine. You twist awkwardly to investigate and immediately regret the decision. One hundred and fifty feet away, maybe less, you see it, extremities flailing in the distance like gangrenous, water-logged tree branches.

“I think he’s blind, but we don’t have much time,” you say, mostly to yourself. “Hey! You need to wake up. Now.”

The woman groans again as you shake her ailing body. You squeeze her shoulder harder and while you wish there was time for a gentler approach, you also recognize the abject danger you’ll face in about six seconds if you don’t make an escape.

“I really need you to get up—do you hear me? He’ll tear us all apart.”

You swear the woman mumbles something, but the sky tears open, giving leave to sheets of rain that thrash against the boat like a drum.

It’s impossible to focus through the pounding in your ears.

You lean in, close enough to feel her erratic breath on your face.

“Lev,” she rasps. “Take Lev.”

“What?”

She grimaces and clenches her teeth, her trembling hand weakly pushing the small body next to her.

You gripe, “I can’t move him by myself,” but she falls quiet and a sobering realization dawns on you.

She may have used her final breath to save this kid. It’s worth attempting, if for no other reason than to pay tribute to her last wishes.

You turn around once again to gauge the distance between you and a brutal death when you notice the weather has given you a leg up. Raindrops reverberate off rusty debris on the beach, disorienting the plague-ridden creatures that inexplicably travel in packs during your most vulnerable moments.

Although you’re not built for hauling the sick and wounded, you lift the boy until the boat lets out a deafening creak. It immediately draws the attention of a writhing monster, whose click-clack squalls turn your stomach sour.

You strip the coat from your back and place it over the woman you’re forced to abandon.

“I’m so sorry,” you say. “I’ll try to lure them away from you.”

******

Embers explode from the firepit and land directly onto your lap. You leap from the mossy log and flail around as if they have set you on fire.

His laughter booms.

“You little shit,” you say, and it only serves to make him laugh harder.

“My bad,” Lev smirks, proud to overuse the phrase he adopted from your experience with the old world. “It was my turn. I’m just trying to be useful.”

“Oh yeah? And you figure setting me on fire is the best way to accomplish this?”

Lev giggles and drops another log onto the flames, this time with more precision. “You’re being dramatic. It wasn’t that bad.”

“Tell that to the hundred tiny holes in my pants. I think you singed my leg hairs.”

He shakes his head, but the smile hasn’t left his face. In the year or so you’ve been travelling together, this might be the happiest you’ve seen him. You’d gladly accept another bucket of embers in your lap to witness it again.

“I guess we better try that camp after all,” Lev says. “Maybe they’ll have clothes. You’re going to need new pants.”

“And all thanks to you.”

“You’re welcome,” Lev retorts.

While his sense of humour has only improved, this kid has always made you laugh with a combination of his sheltered upbringing and naturally playful disposition. There’s darkness in the experiences he’s endured, but it hasn’t altered his humanity.

Which is more than you can say for most people you’ve encountered on the road.

“You’re probably right,” you say. “We’re running low, and I don’t think we’ll last much longer out here without better shelter.”

Lev’s smile fades. “They have tents. Good ones.”

It was the first thing you noticed. A group with large canvas tents and an abundance of ammunition, unlike any you’ve seen outside quarantine zones.

“It’s dangerous,” you say. “We’ll have to wait until it gets dark and even then, we’re walking a thin line.”

“What line?” Lev asks before shooting you another playful smirk.

He understood more than he let on sometimes.

“If we only take what we need, we should be able to get in and out of there before anyone notices.”

Lev nods, his attention lost to the pop and glow of the coals. He collects a handful of leaves, damp from the forest floor, and balls them up in his hands. They sizzle when he tosses them onto the fire, and you watch as their edges curl. He repeats it until there aren’t any leaves within arm’s reach.

“You doing okay?” you ask.

He frowns and ponders, pulls his knees to his chest to rest his chin. You figure it’s a step in a healthier direction. A few months ago, he might’ve recited the easiest answer before changing the subject.

“I miss her.”

“Your sister?” you ask.

“Everyone, I guess. My mom. My sister,” Lev says as he reaches for the crooked stick he’d been using to poke at the campfire. “Abby.”

You resist the urge to ease his grief with a string of useless discourse, but it rakes at your soul to see his expression fall. If there’s anything you understand at your core, it’s the anguish and despair the loss of a loved one can leave behind. You find it hard to swallow as you wrap your arms around yourself and listen.

“Sometimes I play it out in my head over and over, you know? Trying to figure out what I could’ve done better or quicker, or—I don’t know,” he explains, blinking back his sorrow. “Everything always happens too fast.”

He’s right. Between survival and catastrophe, there’s rarely time to pause and even less time to calculate. It’s a breakneck world where the infected aren’t the only ones looking to cause destruction.

You wish it could be different for him.

“I’m scared something will happen to you,” Lev says. “And then I’m alone. I don’t want to be alone.”

Your vision blurs and you concede to spilling a few futile words. “Well, I’m not going anywhere. Not if I can help it, okay? We’re in this together.”

“Even when I try to set you on fire?” Lev says, rubbing his palms against tired eyes.

“Yeah, even then,” you chuckle. “But you better watch yourself, because I hold one hell of a grudge.”

Lev sticks out his tongue in mock defiance before curling up to get some rest.

You wonder where he learned it from.

Based on his stories from his life with the Seraphites, you doubt it was a tolerated form of communication, even between siblings.

“Thank you for not leaving,” he whispers, and it strikes through you.

You wait for the easeful rise and fall of his chest before letting yourself shed silent tears. One for every collective piece of heartache, neither of you will find time to heal.

“Thank you for giving me a reason to stay.”

----------

If there were such a thing as past lives, it’s unlikely you were a notorious thief or covert operative—especially since you’ve spent an excessive amount of time lurking around a camp you planned to rob with zero advancement.

The makeshift barracks are crawling with soldiers draped in military fatigues, their bedraggled boots bludgeoning the muddy ground with every step. It has you frozen in place, sweat dripping down your back against the subtropical air.

“Food, shelter, disappear,” you chant under your breath, eager to feel that surge of effective fear Lev always talks about.

Instead of valuable terror, what you discover is that it would take multiple trips from the base camp to your small plot of land to manage building a complete shelter and a fierce pit settles into your abdomen.

You kneel and observe. If you’re sneaky about it, you’ll have a better chance leaving with a backpack full of ammunition and a stray weapon or two. Perhaps a hearty meal to boost your energy reserves so you can both return in better shape.

Or maybe it’s finally time to think about moving on and going about searching for a more permanent home. Before the thought of disappointing Lev can permeate, the whiz of his arrow flies past your head and sinks into the canvas behind you.

You spin on your heels to find yourself face to face with an angry gunstock. A burst of intense pain radiates through your jaw, accompanied by the metallic taste of copper pennies and a warm trickle down your ragged shirt.

Another arrow lashes the canvas, this time with a soldier pinned to it by the bulk of his shoulder. He cries out for his comrades and if you weren’t so dazed from the blow to your face, you’d have the good sense to run.

“Don’t you fucking move,” a stern voice warns. The frigid muzzle of a pistol presses into the base of your skull, the heat of a formidable body searing you from behind. “You move, and I end you where you stand.”

You struggle to snap back, reaching an instinctive hand up to your face instead. Your chin is a throbbing, tender orb as you slip your tongue across your teeth to check if there’s been any casualties behind your split lip. Thankfully, not. Dental care wasn’t exactly abundant in these parts.

The troop gathers instantaneously, surrounding you and your captor, and your body becomes a strained rope threatening to break. You’re acutely aware of the hand at the small of your back constricting your wrists. Maybe if you just twist—

“Don’t,” she snarls before yanking you closer.

Your shoulders ache.

“Who are you with?” she asks. “How many?”

“None,” you croak. “Nobody. I’m on my own.”

A gruff soldier trudges toward you, and you’re confronted by his rancid breath. “Bullshit,” he all but spits in your face. “Someone is slinging arrows and you either tell us where to find them, or we find them and make sure it’s the last arrow they shoot.”

“Please, just let me go,” you say.

The soldier pinned to the canvas seems to have a much worse go of it, his breaths becoming laboured as his gaze loses focus. It’s a frenzy of tending to his wounds and searching for the person responsible.

Lev has the astonishing gift of becoming a ghost when he needs to make himself scarce, but this group has clear militance and strategy that the two of you lack, especially in your bloodied state.

“We need a plan, Anderson. He’s bleeding out.”

A huff of breath hits your neck, and it’s miraculous her grip hasn’t eased up. Your shoulders and wrists are desperate for respite.

“Let me go,” you say. “I won’t be any trouble. You won’t see me again.”

The woman sniffs and clutches you harder. “I’ve heard that before. Fool me once.”

Her anger radiates with every twitch of her tight restraint, and you understand. But this fury feels deeper than it should.

When a soldier calls out from the field about a boy with a recurve bow, you lose composure and resist her stranglehold, lunging yourself forward. She fumbles but uses it to her advantage, taking you to the ground.

Gravel and twigs grate the skin on your arms as she flips you onto your back.

You shout in the face of the woman holding you hostage. Wriggle and try like hell to drive your knees into her back as she straddles you.

“Relax,” she says, and it’s an order. You crane your neck, desperate to locate Lev among the bedlam. “Hey—fucking relax!”

You don’t relax and you do not stop trying to break free. She grabs your face to redirect you and it’s the first time you cry out in pain. It shocks you both, her hand retracting so fast she takes her whole upper body along with it.

“I won’t let you hurt him. I swear to God if you touch him, I’ll kill you myself,” you spit and she’s still staring down at you like she can’t believe she caused pain to a stranger that, let’s face it, she is well within her rights to accost.

“Nobody is killing anybody,” she says, her brows furrowing into an irritated arch. “But you did this, okay? You and whoever you’re with. Why the hell wouldn’t you just approach our camp like a normal human being?”

“Oh, hilarious,” you retort, back to writhing against the unpleasant grip of her iron thighs. “I’ve seen your group, and every group like it. You’d have killed us on site.”

“You’re wrong,” she says, her tone arctic and deep. “We’re not all the same.” She gestures to the injured soldier being transported into a Humvee on a cobbled together stretcher. “But this shit has consequences.”

The Humvee is past its prime, but it starts up with a roar, soldiers packing in like a clown car. Your hip bones are raw from the friction of this brawny woman on top of you, and you’re not all the way convinced she won’t knock your lights out, so you relinquish any attempt to escape.

“What kind of consequences?” you ask.

She narrows her eyes at you. “What would you do in our boots?”

“I wouldn’t be in your boots,” you grumble. “I don’t fuck with community anymore—people are untrustworthy,” you continue, giving her a once-over, “and violent.”

“Are you referring to people who roll up and steal shit for no reason, or just the ones who hold you accountable for your stupid ass choices?”

Before you’re able to retaliate, her gaze wanders into the far distance and her unforgiving grip on your body slackens. Her eyes become fixed on the only person on this planet you care to protect.

“No. No! Please don’t,” you beg, but she’s on her feet faster than you can blink.

You scramble to put yourself upright and slip on the muddy ground before regaining composure. Your heart falls through your body as you watch this woman barrel toward Lev, helpless to prevent it.

You run toward them, fuelled by the ice-cold panic coursing through your veins and suddenly you’re clinched to her back, arms around her neck, weightless against her force but determined to take her down.

She’s agile in her movements and shrewd in combat.

You’re on the receiving end of her expertise.

The soldier holding Lev separates the two of you before the world shrinks in a way you never expected.

“Abby,” Lev chokes out. His bottom lip is wobbling, and you’re fighting to catch your breath before it clicks.

Abby is on her knees by the time Lev wraps himself around her neck, this time with no threat of bloodshed.

This is the person Lev has been holding out for all along—the person preventing the two of you from moving on to a more stable environment and you get it now.

You see why he needed to check the beach often. You understand why even after all these months and the deterioration of hope, he still dragged you down there from time to time.

What if she made it out? What if she comes looking?

You notice her for the first time when she spins to look at you. Steel-blue eyes, red rimmed and damp, raking over your form. She is rugged, and scars of every shape and size carve her face. But when she tilts her head, she becomes feather soft.

“You’re the one who saved him,” Abby says, her voice high and thick with emotion. “I thought it was a fever dream.”

Speechless, you feel yourself shrug.

She frowns at you, and then you hear it. The most melodic amalgamation of joyful laughter between Lev and Abby, while the combatants still lingering in the camp, gather in relative confusion. The soldiers murmur among themselves, and you’re suddenly overwhelmed by the worry of what to do with your hands.

“What now?” you ask.

Abby dips her head before finding your gaze. “I don’t know. We head back home.”

“What—what exactly happens when we do that?” you stammer.

“Well, we ask the boss how to handle you,” she says. “Maybe get this kid a bite to eat.” She gestures at Lev but locks her eyes on yours.

“Is your boss the scorched earth type? Because we didn’t mean to hurt anyone, and I’m not looking to walk us headfirst into trouble.”

She tucks a tuft of hair behind her ear, tidying up the mess you made of her low ponytail. Abby looks nothing like the frail human you found at the water’s edge. She is a mighty force, restored and rosy-cheeked.

Your fingers are a pretzel, and she studies the way you twist them together to soothe your nerves.

“I’ve got you,” Abby says. “Both of you.”

“What about your boss?”

“Right. Scorched earth and whatnot,” she smirks. “I think you’re safe for now.”

“You think? Well, that’s great.”

If you grab Lev and run for the hills, you might have a fighting chance at survival. Perhaps you’re overestimating your ability to outrun this absolute behemoth of a woman, but you’ve never been one to throw in the towel.

Abby orders her group to call for transportation and to prepare to move locations. They all seem to scatter in the wind, gathering supplies and organizing their gear.

Oh.

“You’re the boss,” you say.

“Yes ma’am,” she says, stripping off her sweater and handing it to you. Underneath is a tight black shirt you’re loathed to linger on a little too long. “Something like that. Play your cards right, and I might just show you how well we operate.”

Lev beams at you. “You can trust her,” he says.

Abby gave you the shirt off her back—that counts for something. You turn it over in your hands and there’s a patch stitched neatly below the collar. You skim over it with the pad of your thumb and let out a deep breath.

----------

The drive to their settlement calms your racing heart. Despite a serious reluctance to leave yourselves vulnerable, there’s comfort in an armed and disciplined group surrounding you.

Abby and Lev shift between gabbing and sharing their stressful trials and tribulations. You overhear bits and pieces about the weeks leading up to their separation and it adds up to exactly the state you found them in. You try to mind your business, but the journey Abby traversed just to get both feet on the road to recovery captivates you.

She slept for nearly a week after reuniting with the Fireflies. You suspect she battled profound grief the moment her eyes opened back up. If Lev’s own voyage is anything to go by.

“You like cats?” Abby asks. It isn’t until Lev elbows you that you realize she didn’t mean the question for him. “You know, with the whiskers and the purring?”

“No, I know,” you say. “Uh—yeah. I mean, it’s been a minute since I’ve spent time with any. Cats are alright.”

She chews on your answer without breaking eye contact.

Heat creeps up your neck.

“Cool,” she grins.

You need a quick distraction and make a point of staring through the windshield, sitting rod straight in your seat. You swear you hear Abby chuckle in tiny, quiet puffs of air, but it’s simpler to concentrate on the weathered trail nature has reclaimed.

“Almost there,” Abby says, tapping on the driver’s shoulder. “We’re going to hang back for a bit. I’ll bring them around in the morning.”

He nods and surveils you through the rearview mirror.

“Hang back where? You’re not separating us,” you say. “I’m staying with Lev.”

“Easy,” she warns, but she appears oddly gratified by your proclamation before giving Lev a nudge. “Quite the guard dog you’ve got here, huh?”

Your antics, as usual, amuse Lev. “Yeah, we’re not a bad team.”

“I can see that. Got room for one more?” she asks.

Lev grins, and before you know it, you’re the three musketeers.

The military vehicle lurches to a squealing stop, and you’re ushered onto a driveway overrun by weeds. Beyond it is a decaying structure snaked through with vibrant vines. Broken windows reveal the interior’s abandonment, but on the porch, a beautiful wind spinner catches the light.

“It’s a little rough, but it’s got potential,” Abby explains. “Good bones, as my dad would call it.”

“You live here?” you ask.

“I do. Well, sort of. I’m needed in town, so I stay there sometimes, but I’m trying to build something more permanent, I guess. I was going a little nuts without a project.”

A makeshift greenhouse rests to one side of the property, busy nurturing plants and vegetables you notice through the glass. Your stomach growls.

“Plenty of that to go around,” she says, nodding at her garden. “Venison too. We just got back from a buck hunt, so you’re right on time.”

“I could eat a whole deer,” Lev groans.

“Oh, yeah? I might be able to arrange that,” Abby chuckles. The steps that lead to her front door are rickety and she reaches her hand out for you to grab.

You hesitate before accepting her assistance.

“Thanks,” you breathe. “I’m pretty clumsy.”

“I figured,” she says, and her smile rivals the wind spinner.

Abby is a gorgeous woman, and the acknowledgment of it deposits a hard lump in your throat that you’re forced to swallow around. If you hold her hand all the way into the living room, it’s strictly for safety reasons.

“Home sweet home,” she announces, dropping her arm around Lev’s shoulders. “You’re getting tall, kid.”

“And you owe me a deer if you want me to keep growing,” Lev says. He leans into her and your heart squeezes.

Their bond gives you hope that chosen family still matters in this world.

Abby gives him a playful shove toward the staircase. “Go grab a shower, Goober. You stink.”

Pure excitement breaks out all over his face and he’s upstairs in record time. You haven’t set up camp near fresh water in ages and the thought of a hot bath is ecstasy.

“Any chance you’ve got a tub?” you ask, toeing at the dusty carpet.

“You bet,” she says. “I’ve gotta be honest—I didn’t take you for a bath girl, but it makes sense. Being clumsy and all.”

“You’re quite the comedian.”

“That’s what they call me. Abby, the comedian,” she titters. “The water tank is about as magnificent as this house, but it’ll do the trick if you wait a while. I can boil some water if you want.”

You fidget, and she picks up on your lack of enthusiasm. It’s a long-broken habit to accept any favours.

“It’s the least I can do,” Abby continues, and she mirrors your anxious hands.

“I tried to rob you.”

She draws her bottom lip between her teeth and steps closer. A breeze drifts through the fractured window and lifts her woodsy scent. An intoxicating blend of fresh pine needles and the sea helps your shoulders drop from your ears.

Abby raises a slow hand to your chin. “I’m sorry we did this.”

“You did nothing. I earned it.”

When she disappears into the other room, you take inventory of the few luxuries she’s placed around her home. A shelf packed with war-torn medical books. Another, littered with novels and wrinkled magazines. Oddball lamps, placed strategically around furniture to indulge her hobbies.

Maybe the two of you have more in common than you expect.

“Here!” Abby announces, and you jump nearly an inch off the ground. “Shit, sorry—I didn’t mean to spook you.”

“It’s fine.”

She flames up into a crimson red, peppered down her neck and onto her collarbone. “Sit down,” she orders, gesturing to a lonely Lawson chair. “Please.”

“Why?” you ask.

When she huffs in what you can only perceive as annoyance, you fight back a smile. Lev and Abby share characteristics only you would likely notice. Little idiosyncratic behaviours buried from the naked eye.

“I’d like to clean that up for you, if you’ll let me.”

“Is it that bad?”

Abby winces. “I don’t want it to get infected. An ounce of prevention, a pound of cure. It’s more relevant than ever lately.”

You amble past the couch and pause when you hear her slide a chair across from yours. It’s shrill as it drags across the floor, and your breath catches.

“You startle easily,” she says, and it’s to herself more than anything—reminiscent of a doctor taking notes to save in your personal file folder. “I promise I won’t hurt you, okay? Please let me take care of this. I’ll be gentle.”

“Gentle Abby. Any association with Comedian Abby?”

“They’re one and the same. I’m extremely dynamic.”

Your uncertainty fades as you drop onto the reading chair. It’s rather comfortable for a piece of furniture you suspect is on the wane. She taps your outer thighs, and you make room for her between your knees.

“Wow. You’re pretty confident for a nerd,” you tease. “Do they know their boss reads romance?”

Her mouth quirks up into a half-smile. “You’re awful nosey for a scaredy cat.”

“I’m observant,” you correct. “One of many skills I’ve gained.”

“Now who’s the cocky one?”

Lev, for an archer of stealth, shocks you both into submission with his thunderous jaunt down the stairs. His hair is a porcupine, sticking up in every direction. Haircuts have been sparse and poorly done with a dull knife until now, but it has made for some funny conversation along the way.

“Can I eat?” Lev asks, making his way into the kitchen. Cupboard doors squeak open and closed, and he hollers to make up for the distance. “Oh man, look at all this food! What’s this brown leather stuff?”

The corners of Abby’s eyes crinkle as she gazes up at you. She hollers back, “Jerky.”

“Can I eat it all?”

Abby’s glee strikes a match to your chilly skin and melts you like ice. You want her to take her time mending your wounds and the thought sets free a butterfly net of flutters between your ribs.

“Knock yourself out,” she shouts.

“What does that mean?” he shouts back, muffled by the jerky you suspect he has shoved into his mouth with both fists.

Abby wrings out the cloth she’s been using to clean the dried blood from your face. She soaks it in a basin of warm water before repeating the process, pressing it to your lower lip. Your eyelids fall as she dabs and glides the spongy cotton along your chin, collecting stray droplets of water as they escape down your neck.

“Is this okay?” she murmurs. “Does it hurt?”

It’s a concerted effort to speak. “No.”

She stops.

“I mean, yes, it’s okay. It feels good—or you know. It doesn’t feel bad.”

Hidden behind your sleepy eyelids, you avoid the embarrassment of your tangled words. Her hand cradles your jaw as her breath chills your wet skin. A deep ache blooms at your core and you catch yourself squeezing your knees against her in response.

It has been a lifetime since you’ve experienced euphoria from human connection. You gnaw on the lip she’s trying to mend, and she delicately scolds you.

“Tired, sweetheart?” she murmurs, and you’re fading fast.

Staying alive has cost you the lavishness of meaningful rest. Inside the walls of Abby’s peaceful home, knowing that Lev is safe, you are losing the resolve to combat sleep. You whimper as the heat of her body abandons you, but before you can protest, you’re off the chair and in her embrace.

“What’s wrong?” Lev asks. “What’s happening—she’s okay, right?”

Abby’s whisper reaches your ears, but your energy has drained from every muscle. “She’s okay. Exhaustion has a way of catching up. I’m going to get her to bed.”

“Good idea,” you hear Lev say. “Make sure a blanket covers her feet. She won’t stay asleep if you don’t.”

“Gotcha. Thanks,” Abby says.

The creak of the old wooden stairs and a pair of powerful arms lull you into a potent slumber.

#abby x you #abby x reader #abby the last of us #abby tlou #tlou 2 #abby anderson #abby x fem!reader #abby x y/n

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angriel · 1 year

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Eywa's Chance: Again Pt. 3

Warning: Widowed! Jake Sully, Warrior! Reader, Sexual Themes (will put signs), Angst, Absolutely Ass Writing, 17+, Violence, War, Chaos, Peace. Skypeople reader, Jake x Reader, there will be a S*x*al H*r*ssm*nt here dont worry ill put a warning

(Y/n) jolted awake by the tap she felt on her cheeks, she met her eyes with his. "Wake up sleepy head, we've got much to do" he said while staring at you with arms crossed on his chest. His veins in his Biceps showing causing you to blush.

You nodded and he tosses a loincloth and an armor beside you. He signaled for you to get changed and you picked the clothes up. You crossed your arms and touched the hem of your camo sports bra when you turned around and saw Jake is still standing there watching you.

"Enjoying the show?" You teased him. He rolled his eyes and left the tent mumbling some incoherent words along the way, you chuckled quietly and proceeds to undress and wear the native clothes he got for you. You were super uncomfortable with the loincloth you wear, but you had no choice, you went out the tent and saw jake waiting for you.

You suddenly felt insecure as he stares you down and nodded. You scratched your head and laughed awkwardly, "Come" Jake ordered you. You followed him feeling excited as this is the 1st day of your training with the very Toruk Makto himself as you two walk out of the tent many Native Na'vi's stared you down while whispering to the others.

You've totally forgot this part, you hung your head low and just stared at the ground hoping they'll stop the whispers but you know to yourself that it's not possible. Jake suddenly stopped and spun around to look at you causing you to bump at his chest and falling landing on your butt, you looked at him in annoyance but you blushed when you looked at his chest.

You thought to yourself Damn that's a nice looking sturdy chest he got there. You shooked your head and he coughed to gain your attention, "definitely need to work on your speed reaction and to your attentiveness to the surroundings." He said, he's circling you while staring at your body up and down as if his eyes is scanning your deepest and darkest soul.

"Wow thanks for the completely unnecessary comment about my abilities, really hurts btw." you said in sarcasm while you put your hands at your waist, he clicked his tongue and shooks his head. "you have a long way to go" he said while going to his ikran, he reached out his hands for you to take it and mount his ikran but you have trust issues considering the events that happened yesterday.

"if you act like a bitch like yesterday I swear i'll fucking-" you angrily said but he cut you off by saying "You what? Go on continue what you'll say. What. Will. You. Fucking. Do?" Jake taunted you with a hiss. "Come before I lose my cool and drop you from here, I guarantee you that it'll not be fun" He said with venom lacing in his voice.

You got intimidated a little bit, but you didn't let it show infront of him. You rolled your eyes and said fine as you took his hands and he supported you to mount his ikran. "Hold on tight Babe" He said, that threw you off guard and he suddenly swooped down from rocks. It takes all of your strength not to scream when he did that.

You're right he's an asshole. The feeling of screaming quickly went away when you saw almost all of Pandora up above, this scene will never fail to take your breath away. You admired the clouds, the little birds flying with you two and the sun that gleamed proudly in the sky.

After a while of flying Jake landed near the tree of souls. He dismounted his ikran and took your arms to support you from dismounting his ikran. "Try to keep up sweetheart" he sarcastically said while running at his full speed..

Okay what's with the pet names? You suddenly ran after him not failing to keep up with his speed through the forest, he climbs up a tree and you followed surprised by how light your body is. He jumps from tree to tree swinging from the vines that's hanging near the trees, and eventually after some time he went down to the ground again and you followed after him.

He proceeds to run across a slippery log that acts like a bridge and you followed him until you slipped. He seems to know what happened because the moment you closed your eyes you felt his hand pull you up, "Careful there, don't want you to die now" he teasingly said. You thought this asshole would run again but to your surprise he didn't. You admired the beauty of nature in this world unlike on earth where it's fake and plastic.

The thought of humans wanting to destroy Eywa's connection through these roots angered you and it boosts your motivation to train and become one of the people. You grew familiar of the surroundings as it was near to your link pod and you gulped hoping he wouldn't find your human body.

Jake Sully kept walking and walking when suddenly he threw a knife at your direction which you caught with one hand. "What the fuck?" you whispered loud enough to be heard by him. "That's good babygirl, now pay attention and be on high alert the real training starts now" He said smirking at you.

After hours of running and fighting him you grew tired and you feel the slow and painful improvement of your stamina. "Come on (Y/n) I could do this all day" he teased you and your blood boiled.

"You know I thank Eywa for giving me 5 fingers so that I could do this" I said and then pulled my middle finger up. He chuckled at my actions and proceeds to charge in my direction, I was about to block it when I felt my body limping and losing consciousness only to woke up on my human body.

I saw my commander at my link pod and he was not happy. "Hello (Y/N), did ya miss me?" I grunted at him and spat at his face. He then grabbed a fistf full of my hair and ordered his men to take me away. "Now where's that avatar body of yours hmm?" He whispered and you rolled your eyes earning you a slap across your cheek. "that all you've got?" You said at the commander.

"You're not a very easy to break are ya?" he said as you give him a smirk. "Tie this bitch up and leave her outside without a mask we can always find your puny little avatar body" he said. he lets go of your hair and one of his men dragged you outside, this is one of the moments you're thankful you took swimming lessons back on earth as you held your breath.

You prayed to Eywa to send somebody to help her as her life will only lasts 10 minutes. They dragged you away of your link shack land tying you up to a tree so you couldn't go anywhere. Let's say you've never been so desperate to live in your life.

Jake stopped in his tracks causing him to tumble with your avatar body when he saw you fell down, he laid you down and taps your cheek cradling your face on his chest. "(Y/n) wake up, do you hear me?" He said while trying to wake you up. And that's when a thought dawns him.

he remembered that this place is near on your link shack. He secured your avatar body first then bolted to your place, when he saw people guarding your place that's when he knew something was wrong. He suddenly felt a need to rescue you and it drives him insane because he doesn't know the reason why he wants to save you so bad.

He saw how they drag you outside without a mask on and you holding your breath, he saw the commander following his men and a plane of RDA came and he went up. The commander left his 4 men to watch you. Unknown to Jake they're the best combat men on his team.

He silently reached for the bow behind his back, the arrow's tip laced with a deadly poison capable of killing a human in a matter of seconds. He arched his back and inhaled deeply while maintaining the form his beloved had taught him and aimed at the heart of the soldier, he let go of the bow and it landed straight at it's target.

This alarmed the other one and he proceeded to fire at the direction of Jake. Thankfully Jake has managed to relocate and hide somewhere, and Jake hoped that you could hold your breath long enough for him to save you.

He successfully killed the human soldier by sneaking up on his back and stabbing it's neck and proceeds to go in the link shack to get a mask and immediately ran into the forest where they dragged you to.

3 minutes have past and 2 men watches over you and to your bad luck one of them was your ex. His name is Peter, and he's more of an asshole than Jake. "Hi Babe you miss me?" he joked, you struggled with the ropes to show that you're not pleased with his presence.

"I missed you, you know" he said while touching your face. You bit his hand causing you to lose too much air and now approximately you have 5 minutes of air left. He screamed in pain and you let go of his hand.

"You fucking bitch!" He was about to slap you when a Palulukan (Thanator) jumped at his company and killed it, that shocked him and he proceeds to point his gun at it. It looked at him and growled. "Come to daddy you piece of shit!" Peter Screamed.

It growled and jumped at him missing his head by an inch and the creatures mistake is what ended it, peter managed to shoot at it's stomach mid air causing it to crash to the nearby tree and die. All hope was gone to you now as you watched your only savior die in front of you.

(( WARNING! ⚠️ ))

Tears are streaming down your face when he lifted them up and kissed you, you headbutted him and he winced in pain. "You're not being a good girl aren't ya? let me teach you some manners" He said in a low voice, he ripped your shirt off and your bra is exposed to him and he laughed like a maniac.

"Look how fucking delicious you're you fucking whore!" he reached for his knife on his side and is about to slice to fabric of your bra, you're currently losing hope and oxygen at this point with having less than a minute left, when suddenly he was punched by Jake.

5..

Jake saw it all unfold infront of him, how he assaulted you. It made his blood boiled. He ran to him and held him up by his neck.

4..

Peter chuckled and spat at Jakes face, "You're her new boyfriend aren't you? She never told me she likes those alien dicks." Peter said.

3..

Jake growled and slowly tightened his grip around Peters neck, " See you in hell (Y/N). " Peter said before Jake killed him by cracking his neck

2..

Jake turned and immediately ran to you picking up the mask he dropped on the process.

1..

You felt your eyes darken and wondered if he'll make it or not. You silently prayed to Eywa to save you and make you one of her Warriors to protect this land.

0..

Jake has placed the masked on you and activated it allowing you to breathe and regain your consciousness, Jake held your human body close to his chest as he cradles you. You began to cry as it traumatized you how Peter was about to do disgusting things to you.

"It's all right baby girl I'm right here, let it all out don't hold back" Jake whispered encouraging words to you as you cried and cried until you fell asleep on his embrace. Jake carried your body towards the link shack and placed you on one of the double deck.

He contacted Norm and ordered for him to take your link shack near the Hallelujah mountains, norm replied yes and made the preparations. He has mixed feelings about this whole incident.

He's confused why he feels like this, wanting to protect you and have you from himself. But he pushed it all down and guarded your body in the link shack until norm and the other pilots and scientists came.

He picked up your Avatar body and made a Camp Near the tree of souls, and laid beside your Avatar body there. he wouldn't allow the same events that happen to him happen to you.

As he stares at your Avatar's Face he wonders if History's Repeating itself

Again...

Chapter 4 is out!

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winterzsurprise · 1 year

Text

Unholy || Karl Jacobs

Pairing: Karl Jacobs x fem! Reader

Summary: To be a priest meant your loyalty shall rest with the lord and Karl would be a lying if he said he wouldn't want to lie with you instead.

Words: 6.4k

Tags: Overstimulation, priest! Karl, switch!Karl (he whines and comes first does that count?), porn without plot, rough sex, floor sex, unprotected sex, vaginal fingering, priest kink, religious kink (i guess), cursing, dirty talk, name calling.

This is a fucking mess because I forced this one during my biggest writer's block but HEY ITS FINALLY FUCKING FINISHED AFTER MONTHS. I'll go fix the mess later on, I am ready to pass out.

As always, constructive criticism is welcomed. I would like to hear what I should change and what not :DD

Archive

---------

The nights where the wind howled against the corners of the church are always the most insufferable nights, Karl observed.

It’s always when drunken men or sobbing women approach the building with their sins sitting at the edge of their tongue, ready to spew their darkest secrets to the man sitting behind the thin plywood wall.

It's amazing how confident they are in confessing their sins just because their faces are obstructed from his vision.

It was always their disloyalty, either a far-away admiration situation or a recurring event of waking up in another’s arms and another room. It’s something Karl could never fathom how it happens.

They marry one another in front of the lord with pledges of love and protection then seek a different tongue in a few years.

Not that he could say much in the matter as he has never experienced such a thing, otherwise he’d be excommunicated.

But one thing’s for sure, his heart, although holds no one else but the lord in the heavens, still beats and skips in his chest every once and a while, either for his favourite food on the table or at the sight of you.

Karl barely knows anything about you, other than your frequent visits to the church to help the nuns with the garden and looking over the children at the orphanage and the fact that you just moved into the small town of Kinoko.

It was amazing how despite knowing so little about you, his heart still stuttered in its cage whenever you greeted him with a wide smile, waving so sweetly, he thought you could make a miss universe cry with how graceful and attention grabbing you are without effort

It’s a simple connection between a priest and a citizen yet he swears whenever you sway your hips whenever you pass by him or move away your hair to show him your neck, you were offering yourself to him.

Your vanilla scent tantalises him, taunting his bound hands to break free and swallow you whole. He had never thought how a sweet scent could elicit such an emotion until then.

Karl can’t even remember the last night he had where he had to fight of his desires apparent by the uncomfortable tent in his pants, nor can he recall the moments where his head steers clear of its imaginative state that’s mostly composed of him snapping and bending you on the nearest elevated surface to see your face crumple into an expression of pure pleasure.

As much as he imagined taking you gently in your bed like the gentleman he appeared to be, there’s an insatiable beast in the prowl who'd love nothing but eat you through and through leaving nothing, not even a piece of your bone, until your scent and taste has ingrained itself to his head and tongue in his waking and resting state.

It was a morbid thought a person like him shouldn’t have but his feelings are far tamer than what his mind lets on, still they remind him of the sinner he once was.

A man who lust over someone, whose hands became more tainted and occupied with every day passing with her growing closer to him.

He's no different from the others he swore to never turn into, the only difference was the cassock he wears, a sign of his affiliation with a religion while the others wore casual clothes.

Would you run if you ever saw the foul, revolting scenes his mind conjured for him at the deepest of nights when sleep felt like a tedious task and your smile taunting his very being?

Today was unfortunately one of those nights he dreaded yet welcomed so warmly like a friend, the stings of the chilly night on his cheeks is the only thing grounding him. The silence in the chapel is torturous, enough to make him wish for the usual boring confessions from the town folks.

Until the double doors creaked open and came calmed footsteps approaching the booth, it sounded nervous and jittery, making him wonder if this person's confession is more than adultery or lying.

Karl couldn't help but be hopeful that it'll be a different topic tonight.

He still wouldn't mind Susan telling him of her recent adventures with her neighbour's husband or John sluggishly recalling his latest fuck after work when his wife is worried sick for him at home.

It's not like he could even interfere with their lives. The last thing Karl wanted is being incorporated into a drama.

Upon hearing the person take a seat, he starts. "Good evening, what brought you to this seat, my child?"

There was a beat of hesitance that hung between them, heavy and tense, like the weight of this person’s sin on their shoulder. Maybe this night will truly be different.

"Father, I have sinned."

Karl's heart fluttered in his chest, cheeks heating upon realising who the person sat on the other side. What kind of atrocity have you done? Maybe this secret of yours might repel him, straighten him up, wake him up from his daze.

He cleared his throat, deepening his voice. "How so? Tell me so I can pray your sins away."

There was a long pause that followed, Karl thought you fluttered away in your nervousness but soon, you spoke once more.

"I lust for someone and I don't know how to act upon it..."

Never have his heart fall to his feet faster than when he heard your whisper, an angry blob rearing its ugly head at the back of his mind, his stomach churning uncomfortably as his mind raced with thoughts of inquiring you more about this intense affection you feel for someone.

Just the thought of this someone he doesn’t know lingering in your mind, making your heart race… His blood boiled vehemently in his core, lighting up a faint pain in his chest as they circulated around his body.

The stretched stagnant silence between them was broken by your sigh as you continued your tale, Karl couldn’t be more thankful that you did, fearing the words that might escape his mouth will scare you off for good.

“I’ve only been in Kinoko for two months now but never have I ever fallen for someone as fast as I did for him.”

Your voice trembled, not only in nervousness but also a hint of shyness, the same tone when people are sheepish and blushing when they introduce their crush to a friend. His jaw clenched, his fists turning white and his nails digging straight into his skin, itching to drive itself to the nearest solid item near him but he knew he had to keep his composure.

He can’t be acting like a child who didn’t get the toy he asked his parents for.

“So not only do you lust for him but also love him?”

“I-I do, father.”

He was prepared to hear your admission but to hear it straight from you, his heart crumbles to his feet, eyes welling up with tears and blurring his vision. Fate is truly cruel to those who're believed to be showered with blessings. Karl tilts up his head, he still has a confession to hear.

Is there really no chance he could ever be yours?

Yes, a whisper at the back of his head said. It was already hopeless to think he had a chance in the first place.

He knew well enough how tight the rosary had bounded his hands, of course he never stood a chance. You know his boundaries more than he does at this point, his logic blurring whenever he sees you pass by, a passing breeze with your scent is enough to render him heedless.

At his heavy sigh, you called, anxious. “Father?”

“What a naughty girl you are. Lusting for someone who’s not your husband... What would the lord think of you now?”

He has no idea what compelled him to say such a thing with a seductive voice. He should give up already the logical part of him knew that but the other part of him urged him to continue, to hold onto the thinnest thread of hope that maybe this man you’re raving about is him.

It was delusional but can you really blame a man in love?

“H-he already thinks of me sinful for wishing to him every night… for someone to bend me over and fuck me rough like I’m nothing but a toy.”

A delicious shiver slithered down his spine at your words, urging blood to up to heat his cheeks and down between his thighs. He groaned softly, your soft voice matched with vulgar words sending pleasurable jolts down to his length.

You sounded so sultry, a succubus disguised as an angel descending to break him. It was dangerous to listen to you but he couldn’t help himself. Your voice holds the promise of a heated night lulling him closer to your arms.

“Tell me, do you ever touch yourself for him? Wishing it was his fingers and dick inside you?”

You responded with a soft groan, it was miniscule yet he almost bolted from his seat to cross the very boundary he was adamant to keep.

“Yes father. Every night I dream of him making me cum over and over again, not stopping even when I tap out.”

“What a mouth you have there. How bold of you to ask God himself for a good fuck and talk dirty to a priest."

Stop, the logical part of him whispered, he was crossing the boundaries placed between the light and the dark. But his heart that thudded harder in his chest and his cock that stirred in his trousers fogged his mind.

He’s too far gone to even try and leave.

“And what are you going to do about it?”

There was a challenging tone in your voice, condemning him to his fall from heaven and into the hell of your own making.

The string of constraint snaps and he’s on his feet. Karl walks out of the booth and into the other side, throwing the curtain open to see you look up at him with wide eyes, surprised and eager but he could see the glint of mischief in them.

There’s a lot of things that raged in his mind, actions he could do with you at his mercy. But instead, he sighed, mind clearing a bit as he straightened up.

“Step out of the booth and kneel in front of the cross to pray, I will baptise you once you show remorse to the lord."

He watched intently as you stood up with shaky legs, approaching the wooden podium noiselessly, the silence growing intensity with every footsteps taken.

It was suffocating and exhilarating at the same time.

This is crazy, this is crazy. His thoughts bounced around his mind but he could care less, he started this and he will see through it all.

The stained glass windows casting a shadow over the figurine nailed on the cross, sculpted face tilted down, its expression ever firm yet it looked like iy was frowning at him for a split second.

It was spine chilling how it felt like its eyes were made to glower at him with disgust, judging his very being at where he stood. Karl's guts twisted at the thought, fear rising up to his throat only to dispese the moment you kneeled onto the red carpet, waiting for the priest to arrive and deliver his blessing, waiting for no one but him.

Your prayer left your lips in hushed whispers with both hands cupping each other close to your mouth. With the moon beaming down onto you, highlighting your figure underneath the oversized button up you wore. It was unfair how his desire showed no intention of stopping while you remained calm kneeling in front of the god’s hanging figurine.

The church gate closed and the lock echoed with a loud metallic clang and you shivered noticeably. Karl had to lock the main gate, nobody could enter the premises without his permission and no one could interrupt his moment with you.

Heaven knows he'd run away if anyone were to ruin the already fragile mood.

"Father?"

"Can't have anyone entering such a holy space during a cleansing, you wouldn't want anyone to see how much of a bad girl you are, do you?"

Karl has never been as nervous as he is now. Not even when he moved out of his parents' house nor when he rose to stand in front of the masses for the first time as a priest.

Yet there he was… A pin-drop interruption away from cowering in a corner. Both sides of himself are stuck in an on-going tug of war between his human desires and his god-fearing heart screaming at him.

Even every step he takes towards the front where you kneel and shiver with his approaching footsteps felt like he was striding towards his death.

His eyes wandered back to the divine sculpture pinned between mismatched panes of colored glasses. Karl's chest tightened before he averted his gaze in favor of paying attention to you.

God wanted his children to live happily and this is one of the things that'll give Karl joy, surely the divine and benevolent God could grant him this one sin.

But seeing the delectable tremble that shook your body after his words, his human desires pushed further front. He wanted to see your reaction, ached for a glimpse of how your cheeks flushed dark in his presence when he crouched in front of you, hand reaching up to pinch your chin and tilting your head up to meet his eyes.

There was something addicting with the way you easily surrendered control to him with so much trust made pride swell in his chest, something about the sight of you obediently kneeling with hands splayed on your thighs and staring up at him with wide eyes brimming with desire. A hunger he has grown unnaturally familiar with, befriended it even.

He couldn’t help but wonder if those eyes will retain its warmth and crave for his touch if you ever caught a glimpse of his mind whenever he thought about you.

"Before we start, tell me now if you want to back out, princess."

The rosary hanging from his neck scorched his skin, their round beads digging into his skin like an apparent annoyance. The accessory weighed heavier than any other day when he took it off and held it in his hand, a reminder of his duty as a priest who has made the pledge of Chastity, the same promise he’s about to break for you.

But if a ‘no’ ever escapes your lips, no matter how loud or hushed it is, he’ll be willing to stop in his tracks and move districts.

He couldn’t bear the thoughts of you looking at him with disgusted eyes.

“Darling?”

You let out a shaky exhale. “Yes, Father Jacobs.”

He grinned. “Good girl, now start praying.”

Karl watched as your eyes grew comically wide in shock, cheeks burning in humiliation as you fell to your chest, no doubt ashamed of assuming differently of his words. He held back the urge to laugh, no matter the setting, you never fail to be adorable.

But those worries dissipated once his large hand took yours with urgency and pressed the rosary into your hold.

Of all the hands he’s seen having the accessory hang from during the Sunday masses, he could confidently say that yours is the greatest of all. He wondered how your wrists looked when tied tightly with it.

“You only stop if I tell you to, alright? If you disobey, there will be consequences.”

With a nod, you started muttering your prayers and he went ahead to claim the lone bottle on the counter a few strides away.

"I'll start the baptising now."

But instead of going through the whole ordeal of sprinkling bits of the liquid on you like a proper priest would, he uncapped the bottle and poured its contents on you.

The water is truly holy, he thought as he stared at the sight of you in wet clothing.

You only gasped as the liquid drenched your shirt, sticking into your skin and revealing the bold red lacy bra you wore. The colour complimenting your skin so perfectly it hurts, it pains him that he's not seeing it properly.

"My apologies, the bottle broke. That shirt must be uncomfortable, we can proceed without it."

He went around you with hands cupping your shoulders as he kneeled, giving it a comforting squeeze before he reached around to undo two buttons. Your breath hitched when the collar loosened, he knew deep within that it was from the excitement and arousal yet he couldn’t help but be worried.

Karl would rather die and never see you again than be hated by you after using his power as a priest to force you into agreeing to this.

"Hey, are you sure you want this?"

When you nodded, he poured all the contents of the bottle onto your head, unsatisfied by your response. The fabric is practically translucent against your skin, what a sight you are to behold.

You gasped as the chilly temperature encouraged goosebumps on your skin but he could care less, he needed to hear you say it.

"Words princess. I need to hear them."

"Yes, Father Jacobs."

"Good girl." His words elicited a shiver from you as his hands made quick work of your shirt, shedding it off and tossing it somewhere in front.

The new uncharted skin revealed to him made his breath hitch, feverish and unmarked beneath his fingers, the goosebumps he felt under his touch sending a pleasurable shiver down his spine. He placed a kiss on your shoulder, warmth exploding in his chest at your sigh. Such a perfect little darling for him.

Karl listened to your breathing as he lightly nibbled on your skin, careful not to leave a long lasting mark before drifting down to a more inconspicuous area to suck on.

As much as he wanted Kinoko to know you've been fucked thoroughly tonight, he wasn't sure you'd like the idea like he does.

“Wearing such a promiscuous bra at a church, did you ever plan on repenting for your sins? Or were you hoping that someone would take you home and fuck you like the slut you are?”

“No sir, it's only for your eyes, Father Jacobs.”

He chuckled, pleased. “If it's a present for me, then shouldn’t I unwrap it?”

His pecks turned into open mouthed kisses and soon, he was laving the skin hiding your rapid heartbeat with his tongue. Every sigh you emit sends pleasurable jolts downward and further hardening his length, your every soft moan of his name frying his nerve endings alight, the feelings are intoxicating.

Your sweet, honeyed scent is addicting as it surrounds him and like the addict he is, he drowned in them, letting your perfume momentarily overpower his lust.

even then, he noticed the silence—save for your moans— in the room and swatted your thigh.

"I'm not hearing your prayers missy, don't think I've forgotten that."

If you continued, he didn't even realise. His focus zoned on the feeling of lace under his touch as he touched the hem before unclasping your bra and disposing them somewhere behind him, hands surged to your mounds, grabbing a handful and squeezing it gently. Hard nubs poking his palm, screaming for his attention, urging him to pinch them.

You’re so soft and pliant underneath his touch, surrendering and trusting him with your vulnerability and boy, does it feel good.

He felt like a high schooler who just saw boobs for the first time in his life, a teenager about to cream his pants at the sight of a topless woman. It wouldn’t surprise him if he explodes before even entering you.

"So pretty for me."

As his hands massaged both mounds gingerly in his hold and you sighed, nails digging into your skin as he pulled them before pushing back up to relieve the stings his fingers left.

His fingers soon found your nipples and pinched them between two digits, sending ripples of pleasure in your system as he tugged on them before rolling the hard nubs in different directions.

But you needed more and he knows that from the way you crossed your thighs to close around nothing, attempting to relieve the burn in your inner core, the intense ache between them. Karl watched as your cheeks crudely flushed before he parted you open with his legs wedging in between them.

His long hands trailed down your legs teasingly, dropping to your inner thighs before they caress you up to your knees.

"Father Jacobs, please."

His hands paused at your thighs. "What is it?"

"Touch me please..."

"But I am touching you." His hands dug into your flesh before grabbing onto them with an iron grip, the sting only igniting your core further.

"You know what I mean.."

"I don't, princess. Tell me what do you want?"

Arousal burned your cheeks a deeper red as you desperately grabbed his hand on your inner thigh and dragged them to your itching heat, body trembling when he cupped over your sex.

Karl felt light as you pushed his fingers down on your prominent nub, moaning as you manoeuvre them to circle it, he could feel the fabric grow wetter with every touch and he almost passed out.

The heat radiating off of your clothed folds is enough to drive him crazy, he couldn’t even imagine how he’d react once he breaches your underwear and touches your arousal, revelling in them.

He could feel the burning phantom stare above him, shame curling around his heart as he stared down at your slowly writhing hips. Karl wasn't emotionally affected by his dirty talk earlier but now that he's touching your clit through your panties, the guilt weighing heavily on his heart almost made him run but your voice pulled him down, grounding him

"Touch me here, father."

The corner of his mouth tugged up. "Asking to be finger fucked in front of the lord, aren't you a kinky little slut?"

You nodded feverishly, groaning as you pushed his hand down, mewling at the pressure applied to your clit. The fabric was absolutely drenched in your wetness and Karl almost blacked out.

He didn’t need to hear your words next, his hand pulling the cloth to one side before the other slid down into your folds, brushing over your clenching hole and rising up to press onto your clit. You moaned, hips following the slow swirl of his finger.

Karl wondered what he could do to you, there’s a lot of possibilities and he’s lightheaded at the thought of them.

He could have you trembling from pleasure upon pleasure here on the floor but he could also treat you properly and calmly guide you to your climax. Karl wondered what could satisfy a minx like you.

“Karl please…”

Of course this isn't enough. He slipped two fingers in and you let out a strangled moan at the sudden but welcomed intrusion, back arching when he curled his digit to reach up to the spongy spot continuously that got your hips rising from the floor.

You moaned and panted so sweetly in his ears, hands gripping onto his sleeves as he plunged his two fingers in and out of your cunt at a growing frequency.

“Whatever you want, sweetheart.”

His hand picked up a pace and you mewled, head falling back to his shoulder as your hips rose to meet his thrusts. The wet squelch bouncing off the walls with every thrust of his finger made your cheeks burn from embarrassment but they only goaded him on.

The apparent burning phantom stare now numb to him as he opened your thighs further for his gaze.

Karl felt light at the feeling of your walls clamping around his hand greedily, sucking him in yet also pushing him out, it was maddening. His length ached behind the confines of his pants, desiring nothing but to plunge himself into your heat and die a happy man.

“My little princess is so drenched for me.” He slid another digit into your folds, smoothly joining the already inserted fingers in its increasing pace and you fluttered. “Don't you have any shame for spreading your legs in front of God?”

A slick slap tore a yelp from your throat, the sting lighting your skin aflame before his fingers plunged itself again into your hole with a renewed vigour, the new pace got your knees flinching to close but his legs wedging between them prevented it from shutting and instead opened it further.

You cursed under your breath, hands rising up to massage your breasts, pulling on your nipples as you moaned like a crazy woman in his arms.

Karl watched with bated breath as his hands retracted and reentered your cunt, throat tightening as your walls clamped onto his curling fingers with an iron grip. You were crumbling in his arms and he’s elated, he was enjoying his effect on you, whose body is sensitive and responsive to his every touch.

It was an addictive feeling and he’s obsessed.

“Fa-faster…! Fuck.. Karl!”

"Aren't you ashamed you're being finger fucked in front of the lord, princess?"

You clenched at him as your head shifted in his shoulder, probably to look at the statue above you both before moaning a little louder than before, undeterred by the omniscient eyes possibly watching him pump his fingers in and out of you.

He thrust his fingers in and out feverishly, like his life depended on it. With his legs keeping your thighs firmly open, you had no choice but take it all, hips thrashing wildly and bucking into his fingers. Karl clamped a hand over your mouth as your moans increased in volume, bouncing off the walls of the church.

He was proud he's making you scream but he wouldn't want to wake up any of the sisters nor concern the locals with your screams.

"I-I'm close..!"

"Come for me princess, give it to your darling priest."

The pressure from his palm bumping into your clit along with the rapid thrust of his digits soon got you trembling as hot white flashed behind your closed lids and you came.

You screamed into his palm as your orgasm came without a warning, exploding and lewdly expelling liquid pleasure into the chapel floor before trembling pathetically in his arms, body reduced to the state of euphoria.

Karl retracted his hand with a squelch, raising it to eye level to revel in the wetness fully coating it, his breath catching in his throat as he stared at them drooping down before sucking on his fingers. Your flavour exploded on his tongue and he groaned.

"You taste so fucking good baby. Did so well for me."

Your hands weakly tugged on his pants and he knew what you wanted.

Because he also wished the same.

Soon enough, his pants were tossed somewhere behind him and he was left standing on his boxers. The stiff tent on them immediately caught your eyes and you reached out to free him from the constricting fabric, hand wrapping around his base once he was completely bare.

Karl dared to let his fantasies play in front of him as he watched your hand pump him slowly and you stared at him through your eyelash before kissing the tip of his cock with feigned innocence, he groaned.

What a minx you are.

“Can I taste you, Father Karl?”

“Later, on your back now, princess.”

His hands guided you down carefully, palm splaying onto your abdomen as if your body would break under miniscule of pressure, his words and actions not correlating as he naturally hovered over your body.

There must've been divine intervention when you laid, spread and vulnerable in front of him. The moonlight escaping the huge mirror behind the altar shone perfectly down on your body, highlighting your perky nips and casting shadows on places that made you look more desirable than earlier when you were kneeling.

Karl couldn't help but be thankful that he was rewarded with such a sight in this life.

"You're so pretty."

His head bent down to place a haste kiss on your stomach and your breath hitched. The heat of his breath and the hovering weight of his length on your fold frying your nerve endings aflame as he peppered kisses all over your body.

"Karl, please."

A huge hand entangled themselves with yours, his face hovering on top of you, noses a hair's width. He could feel your exhales on your lips, awakening the butterflies in his stomach as you stared at his lips.

Breathless, he asked. "What do you want, princess? I need to hear it"

"Kiss me please."

You didn't need to ask twice when Karl leaned down to capture yours in a slow dance. Time slowed, all you could feel was the softness and warmth of his skin under your touch and slightly chapped lips caught between yours.

He reached a hand to cup your cheeks, scared that you'll be another dream of his as you nibbled on his lower lip.

You only stopped when breathing became a problem, Karl pulling away first to place kisses between the valley of your breast before he rose to head level, silently asking for permission as he stared deep into your eyes.

No words were said but you understood what he wanted. His eyes reminding you of a begging dog as it stares deep into yours.

With a nod and a trembling exhale at the promise of pleasure he was about to give you, the head of his length parted your hole, walls clenching around him as he entered. A searing heat flooding your folds as you adjusted to his thickness while he carefully inserted himself into you.

His groan rumbled deep in his lungs and ricocheted in the shell of your ears before sending shivers down your spine, the pain of his iron grip on your waist only fueling the burn of lust raging in your veins.

His firm composure shook, eyebrows crunching and eyes closing in unadulterated pleasure just from entering you.

Karl almost passed out, your warmth clamping around his dick so greedily is taking his breath away. Lord forbids he moves, he might come earlier than he'd want to.

God give me strength.

"Relax a little, baby." His thumb found your bundle of nerves and rolled it gingerly in tight cirlces as he slowly pushed all of his inches inside your cunt.

You felt full to the brim. You haven’t had someone as thick as Father Karl before but it was a welcomed change. Your breath stuck in your throat as you adjusted to his length, legs wrapping around his middle as your body decided between keeping him inside and ejecting him.

Karl's head fell to your shoulders, grunting and panting as your walls crazily pulsed around him, crunching his eyes as he focused on something else other than coming earlier than he'd want to.

"I-I'm sorry, it's been a while."

His body shuddered as he struggled to withhold his own climax for you. There’s a sick part of yourself that glowed at the sight of his struggle, small whimpers erupting from his throat as he hid his reddened cheeks from your eyes.

Karl is breathtaking when he’s domineering and demanding but absolutely sinful when he’s panting and embarrassed.

Experimentally, you wound your legs around his lower back and tighten around him. A strangled whine left his lips, the sound sinful yet so sweet as his nails dug into the skin of your waist. "St-stop it."

"Come on, Karl. I wanna see you come."

"F-fuck…!" He weakly exclaimed, his composure faltering as you squeezed harder. “Stop..!”

“But you look so pretty like this.”

You wiggled your hips and he folds, his back falling and rising in quick successions before he pulled out and splattered his hot semen into your abdomen. You couldn’t help but giggle at this. A crisp slap echoed in the room, his hand leaving an angry mark on your left inner thigh.

"You are in so much trouble, young lady."

"Am I really?"

Your teasing chuckle halted in your throat when he plunged three digits into your heat, moving them at a feverish pace, not letting you adjust to the stretch. Your hips rose from the ground from the sudden influx of stimulation, trying to avoid his unforgiving thrust but the firm hold on your waist prevented you from moving away.

A wicked grin spreads on Karl's face as your legs flail around him, heels digging into his thighs and pushing him away but the man relents.

“Stop moving and take it like a good little slut.” He grunted as your nails dug into his biceps, squeezing hard enough to hurt but not to bleed.

Blood rushes up to your cheeks at the name, embarrassingly aroused by it. The stinging pain it brought became the pleasure that ran down to his length, hardening it further. You could only wail in place, his iron grip on your waist unrelenting.

Your body erupted in flames, every vein of your body scorched with the fierceness of pleasure running through them, every collision of his hips into yours sending sparks down your thighs. There was nothing but moans and whines leaving your lips as the coils in your abdomen tightened with every thrust and Karl knew it.

His eyes rose to your lust clouded eyes, down to your bouncing breasts and standing nipples almost begging for his touch before it fell to your cunt sucking him in greedily as you bounced on his cock.

He burned the image of your sex-drunk state at the back of his eyelids, such a sight should be treasured forever.

A sloppy slap echoed in the chapel and your legs closed around his body, his fingers retreats from your hole only to be replaced by his length, immediately lodging himself to the hilt, his head almost nudging your uterus.

"Fuck!"

"That's right baby. This priest is fucking you good tonight."

He folded your legs to your stomach before starting his rampage, pulling out until his head remained before bottoming out in a flash and you screamed as you came apart without warning.

Even with your legs twitching and your sobs increasing in volume, Karl only continued, even daring to speed up. He didn't mind that you're about to leave bleeding scratches on his forearm, if anything, they're proof of this encounter. Something he'll surely remember in his waking days and sleepless nights.

Just like how he carved himself inside you.

You stuttered out incoherent words as he thrusted in and out of you in quick progressions, impatient and rabid. Pleasure and pain intermingled with each other so much your brain couldn't process which one is which as they blurred, deeply cock drunk to w

There was something about how you're letting him witness such a sight, to let him bask in your lust driven state that makes his heart grow.

So trusting and so perfect for him, God himself is truly generous to grant him this opportunity.

"K-Karl, please..! I can't—"

"You can baby, now give me another one."

As if his dick continuously poking your g-spot wasn't enough, his hand moved down to roll your protruding bundle of nerves and you swore you saw fireworks behind your eyelids.

Pleasure flooded and fogged your already sex-addled mind, your own thoughts overshadowed by your own arousal and you screamed. Karl watched your shaking thighs with sadistic glee before the dam broke and you squirt.

Your throat grew hoarse and dry as your climax tore a moan from it. Karl pulled out until the tip and plunged back in, albeit slowly this time, his ears tuned to your incoherent blabbers as he chased his own high.

“I-I can’t anymore.”

His palm felt like spring after a harsh winter when it splayed on your back and rubbed your skin gently, comforting but it did nothing to your shaking legs. “Just a little bit more, princess. Can you do that for me?”

You only hummed a response, there was nothing you could do with weakened limbs and a traitorously hungry cunt despite the stings of pain lashing across it. His groans rumbled deep into your middle.

“Next time, I’ll fuck you properly on a bed, treat you like a princess and a cock sleeve that you deserve. Would you like that baby?”

You nod, tears spilling down your eyes as his hips collided into yours, the promise of a next time lost in your muddled thoughts. It didn't take long before thick strings of his cum flooded into your insides, his own climax triggering yours and your body shook.

Karl couldn’t help but chuckle as your greedy cunt constricts around nothing to keep his seeds from spilling out. Seeing his come ooze out of your pulsing cunt sent tremors down his spine but he has to stop now, you’re already spent tonight.

Later.

He rose to pick your lax figure up from the floor and forced you to sit on the nearest pews before going around the room to pick up your discarded clothes. Karl decided on forgoing his t-shirt to use it to wipe his essence staining the wood and your skin, your wordlessness made him nervous.

You could be still gliding from the state he reduced you to or maybe you were regretting everything, either way, Karl is scared, you could see it in his eyes as he gingerly wiped you down and dressed you up until you gathered the strength to do it yourself.

Laying on the floor indeed gave you back aches and with the weakness of your limbs from your previous endeavours exhausted you incredibly, the comfortable silence of the room only pulling you closer to sleep, something Karl immediately took notice of.

“Did you regret it?”

You cupped his cheeks, keeping his eyes firmly on yours before shaking your head. “No, I don’t.”

“Wanna stay the night?”

“If you promise to let me hog your blankets.”

He grinned, kissing the tip of your nose. “Of course princess.”

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metvmorqhoses · 1 year

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Although I wasn’t expecting a completely faithful adaptation, since it is just that—an adaptation. I was expecting at least a coherent narrative that followed what season 1 gave us. Even though s1 diverged from the books particularly in terms of characterization it wasn’t something I was upset about since Ben and Jesse’s versions still had substance and incredible chemistry. This season hurt because the bad writing had Ben doing his best to salvage Darkling in his acting choices alone, all while Jesse’s Alina was completely stripped of nuance. It was such a strange choice the way the writers handled their relationship since bad writing aside, their scenes were still intriguing just based off their on screen chemistry alone. Which is why it was such a disappointment that instead of utilizing that, along with book canon to create a complex and enthralling mutual connection we instead got…this lol A big thing was always how despite their fundamental differences, they understood each other. I could see Ben’s Darkling trying to emphasize that part but when you have Alina absolutely not having it, it just comes off as pathetic on his part, which is what the writers wanted I suppose. I would say the ending is hopeful that this isn’t the end for them and a way for Alina to bring Darkling back but if the writing is anything like this season then that might just be wishful thinking.

Not being fond of the books, I didn't particularly care about plot faithfulness either. The real, terrible problem is that the dynamics and the characters' être weren't respected in the slightest, everything meaningful stripped of nuance and complexity for no apparent reason if not a huge dumb woke flex.

The crux of this disaster resides in the fact the writers seem to have completely forgotten (and I too was absolutely astonished by this, because in season one it absolutely wasn't the case) that actual human beings don't feel in black and white and half a dimension, at least not the ones without psychopathologies? And I swear that everyone but the Darkling and maybe one or two Crows this season acted like unfeeling robots or caricatures of themselves with a plot task to complete.

You know, as not fond of the concept as I am (since I don't really think the Darkling to be the villain of the story or so guilty of everything he is angrily accused of by the supposed "heroes"), they could have totally pulled off the darkest and most twisted interpretation of him imaginable and still respect his character and dynamic with Alina, since love, core understanding, admiration, hatred, violation and betrayal are not mutually exclusive and can actually be felt at the same time.

One splendid example of it is The Great. I don't know if you are familiar with the show, but it is the epitome of enemies to lovers to enemies to lovers and the things the two protagonists do to each other are way worse than anything the Darkling has ever done to Alina, but the deep connection between them is never denied, cannot be denied, no matter the terrible actions they inflict upon each other.

Alina could have been convinced the Darkling didn't deserve to live (no matter how fairly or unfairly), she could have decided to kill him and still recognize their unique connection, the nameless thing she feels, the deep affinities they share, maybe even be scared of it all, maybe even wishing none of it was there, but without outright denying what they fed us for the entirety of season one just out of a minor deception, appearing nothing but a petulant, close-minded child. Not only this made Aleksander appear as a delusional, desperate, weak stalker, but it made Alina honestly appear a dumb idiot without a single brain cell, if not an outright psychopath.

Not feeling any form of emotion or compassion for someone you had romantic feelings for (feelings she was even forgetting her great love Mal for, just saying) just ten minutes prior is not badass behaviour, is just not normal. Hell, not showing any emotion or compassion for a human being who is trying to show you an abyss of sorrow (that you are destined to share by the way) is not normal, not even in terms of old-fashioned villain/hero dynamics. Usually the hero is the one to have pity for the villain, the one with the moral high ground. Here not only this isn't the case when the two are balances of each other, connected cosmically and previous lovers, but basic human decency is also completely dismissed and Aleksander is the only one to show any.

I am as astonished as you by all this. I hope this whole season was in truth Alina's slow descent into madness, her power corrupting her from the start. I hope this is the reason they chose to feed us this soulless drivel, it's honestly the only way they could redeem the series at all, but who knows at this point.

#darklina #the darkling #alina starkov #shadow and bone #shadow and bone s2 #anon #asks/replies #one and one thousand stories lis told #the grisha trilogy

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dumbassnamedkhoshekh · 1 year

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We lost a good show yesterday.

Heartbreaking art by @hannah4xyz on Instagram

Not just any good show. A show that, for all it's silly dirty jokes, gore, swears, and satire, is at it's core about connection, love, and healing. And The Deep State (I had to). A show that ended, not in a blaze of glory or with a peaceful, satisfying conclusion, but with a cliffhanger which had the lead making the biggest, most heartbreaking decision of her life, the results and consequences of which we will likely never get to see. Inside Job was something else. It could have easily fallen back on the crutch of over the top bloody violence and shock humor like so many adult animated series before it, but, while it did use those elements, its strength was always in the story it told and the characters it gave life to. A story of trying and failing and trying and succeeding to making bonds with people, a story of finding love in the darkest of places, a story of healing from the wrongs done to you in the past that shaped who you are now. A story that was way deeper and more emotionally damaging than it had ANY right to be. Then again, that's what you get when the the showrunner and executive producers came from shows like Gravity Falls and Bojack Horseman. Thank you Shion, Alex, and Mike, for the story you created and gave to us. Thank you Lizzy, Clark, Christian, Adam, Tisha, Brett, John, Bobby, Andy, Chris, and everyone else who brought the characters to life through their brilliant voices. Thank you to the writers, and the animators, and everyone else behind the scenes who made us laugh and love and cry with these characters and these stories. Thank you, Inside Job. Thank you.

Good night, my sweet comfort show. May we one day meet again.

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blackpink-ocs · 29 days

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ლ her favorite people ლ

# BTS

" I swear to God sometimes I feel like I have eight older brothers not two"

She met them through her brother. At first she was really shy everytime she goes to visit him. For the guys, they basically couldn't resist her cuteness and took her in as their little sister. She is the closest to taehyung and Jimin once stated he feels that she is his younger sister of how he is overprotective. She has a love hate relationship with Jungkook he always teases her, like pulling her hair on stage, making fun of her hight, mimicking her and also teases her because she felt jealous of him since she felt he took her older brother from her. But now it is her turn to tease him about something or someone. She is admitted that she had a huge crush on yoongi and said that whoever is his future wife she will be so lucky. Jin and hoseok were the first guys who welcomed her and made her feel at ease and she has a huge respect for namjoon even though she is the least to, but he always gives her good advices and ask about her well being.

# soojin:

" oh my god, don't make me blush, what happened to you"

People didn't expect them to be friends, seeing as soojin is more reserved and more shy than jia. But as they say opposite attract and they built a beautiful friendship. When rumors start circling about soojin being a bully, jia was one of the the few people who believed her, when her company gave up in her and her boyfriend broke up with her. Only jia opened her door to her and didn't leave her alone in her darkest time. She basically helped her stand on her two feet and redebute as a soloist. Besides miwa soojin also knows everything about jia and the same for her.

# sejeong:

" unnie please stop you are giving me second hand embarrassment"

Fans didn't know about these two friendship till they acted in business proposal together and their chemistry on screen was the same behind the scene. It was then that fans discovered that these two knew each other way before filming together. They were invited in various variety shows together. It was always fun seeing their dynamics.

# keeho:

" do you want to know what is my biggest regrets, giving you my number"

Jia met him in one music show, he was lost trying to find his way back to the bathroom. And her being the good sunbae helped him, in their way they got to talk. If she was being honest she founded cute how he was Stuttering in front of her being all shy and what not so she gave him her number if he has any concerns he wants to talk about or if he wants to ask anything she was there. It was her first mistake. Now he calls her in the most random moments to talk about the most random things. When he talks about her in lives he always calls her baby noona to annoy her, the disrespect.

# Dino:

" how old are you ?, we are the same age grandpa"

They met through Jungkook and mingyu, both of them are the maknae of their group, they debuted around the same time. Looks like normal people but they are chaotic. They feel like they know each other since forever, They make fun of their dating rumors " please people we're not dating, you know why? Because jia like certain age category and height" yeah he sold her out, one time dispatch followed them thinking they will catch them in a date for them later to release pictures of jia pulling his hair because he stole one bite of her ice cream and him screaming for help.

# Kim you jung:

" please tell me what the next episode going to be about I can't wait"

They met through T.O.P, he thought that the young actress should have friends from her age group and who is better than the outgoing jia. Their are friends since pre debut. They always support each other projects and go out together for vacations. Skinship is a must between these two. They are each other main chick. Being in the industry since she was a little girl, youjung didn't get to live her childhood properly, so getting to meet jia was like a breath of fresh air.

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simplyholl · 1 year

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Across the Multiverse Pt. 4 [Loki x F Reader]

Summary: Y/N and Loki’s relationship takes an unexpected turn after one of Stark’s parties. When they are sent on a mission to find their multiversal selves, will they realize they should be together?

Pairing: Avenger Loki x F Avenger Reader

*The car scene is a little nod to @lokisgoodgirl‘s Clandestine F*cks Collection. I wrote that scene just for you as a little thank you for everything. ILY bunches and I wouldn’t be doing any of this if it wasn’t for you.

The caption for the picture is lyrics from “Call It What You Want” by Taylor Swift

Warnings: Smut. Minors DNI. 18+ ONLY. Incorrect use of multiverse travel.

W/C: 2.7K

Loki has been mad at me since we got back. It didn’t help matters that when we found Universe 322’s me, Bucky answered her door. She came out behind him barely dressed with just fucked hair. But that wasn’t me, Loki has taken it to heart though. He makes a snide comment every time Bucky is in the same room as me.

I’m downstairs waiting for my ride to mine and Natasha’s interview. “Hey kid, change of plans. Natasha had to go on a mission with Clint. So, you’ll be doing your interview with Reindeer Games.” My heart falls into my ass as Loki walks over to us dressed in a skintight Henley shirt. The fabric clings to his frame leaving nothing to the imagination. I’m so mad at myself for still being attracted to him despite him acting like an asshole for a month.

“Wait Tony, isn’t there someone else who could come with me?’ “No Y/N, everyone else is busy. Well except for me, and I’m not going. What’s the problem anyway? I thought you two were best friends forever. Uh oh, a lover’s quarrel perhaps?” “NO!” Loki and I answer a little too quickly. Tony smiles knowingly at us. “Just play nice for the cameras. Give them what they want. You know, really play to the crowd.”

I’m nervous to be on this talk show. Robin, the host always asks the most scandalous questions. Her show is known for getting gossip out of celebrities and superheroes alike. Last time the Avengers were on her show, she got Bruce to admit he was dating Natasha. I’m surprised Nick Fury let Loki be on today, God of Mischief and all that.

Robin sits across from the white sofa Loki and I are on. Old pictures from my Instagram are blown up on the screen behind us. The pictures are of me and Loki with silly filters on our faces, playing in the snow, and my favorite. We had a little too much to drink in his room and we decided to document the evening. I’m sitting in his lap, his long arms wrapped around me holding me tightly against his torso. He has his lips pressed against my cheek in a playful kiss. And I am smiling like a lovesick fool. I even captioned it “Starry eyes sparking up my darkest night” with a green heart emoji. In my defense, we were listening to Taylor Swift’s Reputation album that night. At least, that’s the excuse I used when the girls bombarded me with accusations after I posted it.

Robin gestures to the pictures. “You two are the cutest couple! Y/N, how long have you been banging the most mysterious Avenger?” I can’t help my blushing cheeks. The nerve of this woman. “We are not a couple and we have never been intimate.” I lie, crossing my fingers behind my back. Robin doesn’t know how to take no for an answer. “Look at him, Y/N. There must have been at least one late night where there was a lingering glance that quickly turned into more.” The audience is on the edge of their seats waiting for my answer. I look to Loki for help. He just smiles at me, and I could swear he is trying not to laugh. Asshole. “I won’t deny that Loki is attractive.”

The whistles and cheers from the crowd confirm my statement. Loki stands up gesturing to his face and body. The cheers grow louder. He finally takes his seat. “But there is nothing between us except for friendship. No lingering glances, no hookups, nothing.” “Boo! You’re no fun! You know your fans ship you two together, right? Here’s a thread about you two we found.”

She displays it on the screen. There are photos I didn’t know existed of us walking, eating, holding hands. The comment section is filled with statements like “Everyone knows they are dating. Why hide it?” “The chemistry between them is smoldering. I was at the table beside them, and I thought I would catch on fire from it.” “Have you seen how he looks at her?”

Robin reads each one making me more uncomfortable by the second. This is all too much. Loki notices and places his hand on mine. I feel better instantly. Robin finally makes it to the end of the thread. “Well, if you’re telling the truth, and you’re not an item, let us at least see your first kiss. We would love that, wouldn’t we?” The audience chants “Kiss her” as I look at Loki trying to figure a way out of this. Surely, he will come up with something. He hasn’t wanted to be near me, let alone kiss me.

He whispers in my ear, “We might as well, darling. What was it Stark said, give them what they want?” Loki grabs my face as he leans down to reach my lips. Soft kisses turn into hungry ones as he slides his tongue in my mouth. The audience is whistling and shouting, but I’m not paying attention. It’s all I can do to keep from drowning in the passionate way his lips glide with mine. My hands are in his hair, and I’m pretty sure I moaned too loudly. Loki breaks the kiss gently placing his thumb against my bottom lip as his eyes search mine. He places his lips against me again and again. Each time I think he is done; his soft lips are on me once more. It’s like he can’t help himself. When he finally stops, I am breathless.

As soon as we get in the car, both our phones start blowing up. Loki answers his. Tony’s voice comes over the speaker frantically shouting. “What the hell were you thinking?” Loki answers calmly, “You told us to play nice for the cameras, Stark. I was merely following instruction.” “I meant don’t fight with each other on live TV, not shove your tongue down her throat in front of the world!” Loki laughs as he hangs up on him mid- rant. He asks me if I’m going to the party tonight and I tell him probably not. “It’s probably for the best. After that kiss, the ladies will be falling at my feet tonight.” I look out the window the whole way home, holding back tears.

Tonight is Tony’s infamous lingerie party. The guys have been looking forward to it for months. The girls and I went shopping for our outfits weeks ago. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t buy mine with Loki in mind. I think I’m going to stay in tonight. Seeing Loki with models in their underwear is too much for my heart to handle.

Wanda and Natasha show up at my room with drinks. They can’t stop gushing about the kiss. Tears start streaming down my face uncontrollably. I wasn’t going to tell anyone about me and Loki, but now I don’t have a choice. They are just as confused as I am, especially after that kiss. It seemed too real.

“You have to go to the party now, Y/N.” Wanda encourages me. “Yeah, you have to show him what he’s missing.” Natasha decides we have to get ready together. Wanda is doing my makeup. Natasha styles my hair. When they have finished my makeover, I am completely impressed. I have never been hotter.

My hair hangs down in soft waves. My smoky eyes are accentuated by little jewels along the wings of my eyeliner. My false eyelashes are a little heavy. They will take a while to get used to. My lacy, black lingerie clings to my body in all the right places. The wire in the cups of my bra push my breasts up to make them look bigger and more perky. The cheeky panties are almost see through. They are tied on the side with little black bows. Natasha helps fasten my garters to my stockings. Wanda finds my sexiest heels in the back of my closet. I’m definitely dressed for revenge.

When we arrive at the party, it’s not hard to spot Loki. He is sitting on the sofa, all the hottest girls gathered around him. There are two on his lap for heaven’s sake. I look at the girls for encouragement. We walk over to the sofa across from him. He unapologetically checks me out. He only takes his eyes off me when one of the women in his lap clears her throat. All of them are glaring at me, mad because I stole his attention, if only for a moment. “I didn’t think you would be in attendance tonight, pet.” Loki says coldly.

I smile at him sweetly, moving my hair to reveal the spot on my neck he loved to mark. His eyes darken. “Well, I thought I’d come to check out all the available men. Tony invites the most alluring bachelors to this party every year. As you know, I am so single right now. Actually, I thought I’d take a page out of your book and bring back someone to warm my bed. Maybe a doctor. “You and I both know someone like that could never please you. You like playing with danger, pet.”

“How could you possibly know what would please me, Loki?” I can tell I’ve struck a nerve. He grips the arm of the sofa tightly making the thick veins on his hands stick out. Loki stands up forgetting the girls in his lap. They are thrown to the floor with a thud. I try my best not to laugh, but a little giggle escapes me. He doesn’t even acknowledge them, just takes a long stride to step over them. He grabs my hand jerking me off the couch. A cloud of green smoke surrounds us.

Suddenly, we are in the library. He circles behind me like a lion stalking his prey. I gasp when his hand tangles in my hair while the other shoves me face first against a table. The cold surface makes me shiver. His fingers pull my panties to the side. Quick fingers swipe my entrance finding me soaked. He plunges into me with a hard thrust. I grasp the side of the table. My right cheek finally getting used to the cold surface. I’m overwhelmed from how deep he is and how full I feel in this position. His strong legs nudge mine spreading me wider. Long fingers grip my hip roughly as he drives into me. He places his other hand to my lips. “Suck.” He commands slipping two slender digits in my mouth. I run my tongue over them tasting myself. I suck on the tips while I take everything, he gives me. “Who knows exactly how to please you?” “You… Loki” I pant. “I can’t hear you, pet. Who is it that makes you feel this way? Who makes this pretty pussy so full?” “You, Loki. Only you.” He thrusts harder, chants of his name fill the room as we both unravel.

This is our week off from the mission while some of the others go. Since the night in the library, Loki and I have barely left his room. I’m disappointed because we have to go to dinner with Scott and Thor. Not because I don’t want to go, but it means I won’t be alone with Loki. In the car, Loki and I sit in the back while Thor drives. I have a feeling he is up to something when he sits in the middle beside me instead of on the other side.

Loki tells me to put my seat belt on when the car starts moving. I’m still pouting about having to leave the comfort of his bed, so I refuse. He leans over me bringing the seat belt across my chest. His fingers graze my breasts through the thin fabric of my dress. His green eyes fixed on me as the click rings throughout the car. His hand grips my thigh. His fingers hold so tightly it could bruise. “Can you be quiet for me?” he whispers in my ear. His warm breath sends chills down my body.

I whisper yes, confusion written on my face. His intentions are clear when his hand travels up my thigh. “No panties?” he questions. I give him a mischievous smile. He places one expert finger on my clit circling. I bite my lip trying not to make a sound. The moan I tried and failed to hold back came out like a squeak. Thor’s attention is on us now. “What is the matter, Y/N?” he asks concern lacing his voice. Scott is curious now too. He turns around. “Brother, keep your eyes on the road. I have fought many battles and survived. I will not die by your hand. Y/N is fine. She was merely remembering a rather sad moment from one of her books. She seeks comfort from me. Allow her some privacy.” Loki places his free hand on my head guiding me to his shoulder. Thor and Scott must believe him, because they face forward.

Loki leans down whispering “Hush now, darling. I thought you could be silent. Do you wish for me to stop?” I shake my head no, grabbing his wrist desperately trying to hold his hand in place. He slips two slender fingers inside. His rough palm rubs against my clit. I buck my hips against him quietly whining against his neck. He pumps his fingers in and out. “So tight. I cannot wait to be inside you tonight, Y/N.” His thumb works against me as he hooks his fingers inside hitting my g-spot. I bite down on his shoulder my grip on his wrist tightens as I come undone. My eyes are watering. That was so intense. It was almost too much without making a sound. Loki’s thumb quickly brushes the stray tears away.

He places a soft kiss to my cheek. “that’s my good girl.” He purrs. He gently removes his fingers from me. He brings his hand to his mouth. Placing the two that were just inside me to his tongue. He sucks them clean; a small moan escapes his lips. Scott turns around giving Loki a questioning look. He notices the fingers Loki quickly removes from his lips. “Hey! I didn’t know you had snacks. No fair! The wait for the restaurant was over an hour when I called. I will starve to death by then!” “I never share what is mine, Lang. Especially when it is the most delicious of treats.” He smirks glancing at me, amusement dancing in his eyes. I just smile at Scott and try not to melt into my seat.

The team decided to let loose and have a few drinks together tonight. That quickly turned into mostly everyone being outrageously drunk. Thor passes his flask of Asgardian liquor to the Super Soldiers. Loki is sitting with Tony and Sam. I hear an outburst of laughter from that area, so I walk over. “Where is my girl?” Loki slurs.

“Who is your girl, Laufeyson? We didn’t know you were seeing anyone.” Sam laughs. Loki ignores him looking around the room. “Where the hell is my sweet girl?! She better not be anywhere near Barnes!” Loki shouts. Bucky throws his hands up defensively, a smile spreading across his face. I go over to Loki to make sure he is okay. “Ah, there she is.” He pulls me into his lap. His arms hold me tightly to him. He places small kisses to my hair. “Um, Loki we should get you back to your room. You need to go to sleep, or you’ll feel awful tomorrow.”

“Excellent idea, my love. I can’t wait to have you in my bed again.” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively at me. I place one of his arms over my shoulder helping him to the elevators. When we get to his room, I walk him over to his bed. I pull off one large boot, then the next. He helps me by pulling his shirt off while I work on removing his pants. He grabs my hand placing it over his heart. “Y/N, I lo- “ he stops for a moment searching my face. “I’ll, I’ll see you in the morning.” He rolls over, the sounds of his snoring fill the room while I slide under the blankets beside him.

Part Five