#at least one of them's on the same wave as i

[finniestoncrane]

PREWAR COOPER STUFFS ❤️‍🔥 DESPERATELY needing some fluffy morning after/Sunday morning routine with his wifey 😩👏 him being VERY grabby and just an absolute horndog dkfnfnrk (he is down bad for reader)

Morning, Sunshine

Cooper Howard x Fem!Reader, word count: 1k hello post divorce cooper, please hit me up, i'll make you eggs (also post-divorce barb i know you're a baddie but that's just my type so i'll make you eggs too pls lemme make you eggs too...ANYWAY) but please this is so cute and i have made it gender neutral as you corrected so everyone enjoy being cooper's little chef and getting caressed by this hungover idiot 🤎 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw:

Cooper stumbled into the kitchen, his feet shuffling on the floor as though they were made of lead, unable to lift them any higher. He groaned as the light from the windows assaulted him, and you smiled without turning to him, offering a brief, hushed 'good morning'. He returned the greeting with a groan. His entire body felt weighed down, the ache of sleeping in one position all night, lacked out in a drunken stupor after he had pawed at you and attempted to fuck the lingering stress out of his body.

And now he was in his own kitchen, messy from the small gathering of friends from the night before, stressed once more and hungover as shit to boot.

But there you were, by the stove, the source of the wonderful smell that had woken him up and had him drifting from the sancutary of his dark bedroom to face the world. Even when he was hungover, or sick, or just too damn tired to accept reality, he did it anyway. Who knew how many more mornings there were for him to see? That looming threat, the dark secret he had to keep to himself, one not even Barb knew was the real reason for their divorce. The source of his agonies, but also, the reason he felt so inspired to wake up each morning and spend as much of the time he had left with you as possible.

"I wasn't expecting you out of bed any time beforeat least midday, Coop."

"Then you shouldn't have started cooking something so god damn delicious."

His voice grew closer as he made his way, instinctually, towards you.

"I'm sorry, did it wake you up?"

"It did, but there's nothing to apologise for."

He was behind you now as you stood in front of the burners, a pan in your hand, your signature omelette cooking over the heat, your grip wobbling a little as Cooper looped his arms around your body. Everything he did stole your attention, pulling your focus with his charismatic personality, the way he commanded a room the moment he entered. And it didn't help that he had begun to kiss at your neck, letting his lips drag along your prickling skin as he moved down to your shoulder, nuzzling back into you as he sighed. The satisfied moan on the exhale had your stomach tensing, eliciting a soft moan of your own in reply.

"You want me to make you something to eat?"

"Please, darlin'. If that isn't a bother."

"Never is for you, Mr Howard. You get a coffee and take a seat, I'll be right with you."

Once he was seated with his mug, the morning newspaper to the side of the place setting at the kitchen island, you turned from the stove to plate up the omelette for him. It was the first you had properly looked at him that morning, and you could feel your breath hitching as you took him in. Even in this state, bedraggled, skin greasy with a sheen of sweat, hair unkempt and slicked back in messy waves, his breath, which you could smell over the countertop, still tainted with the cocktails he’d been making the night before. Even with all of that, he was still the most handsome man you had ever laid eyes on. And those same eyes couldn’t help but fall to his chest, his robe hanging open, exposing his torso down to his navel.

You wondered if he’d bothered to find any underwear to put on before covering himself with the short robe when he’d stumbled out of bed.

“Oh, sweetheart. You made this for yourself.”

“You eat first, I’ll make one for myself just now.”

Cooper flashed you a grin, one you remembered seeing so often in press photos, at promotional events.

“You really are a doll, know that?”

You returned his smile, turning back to the stove as he ate a few bites of the omelette with a satisfied groan. Cooper took a sip of coffee, watching you over the top of the mug. Every day could be the last. He didn’t want to believe it, but it always hung in the back of his mind. He’d lost Barb to Vaut-Tec, lost Janey, at least partly, to the divorce. He’d lost his sense of security to the war, his work to the paranoia that had burrowed inside of him. You were all he had now, and intended to cling to you with everything he had. Holding your hand tight at the party last night, clutching your body in the bed as he fucked you, passionate, desperate. His fingers entwined in yours as you slept, then holding you in his arms, your body smooth and warm.

Cooper stood up from his chair, unintentionally quiet to the point where you didn’t even notice he had moved until he was right behind you again, pressing himself against you so tight that you could feel the beginnings of his erection pushing into you. With a firm hand, he took your wrist, guiding you to set down the pan, switching the stove off and turning you in a choreographed spin so that you were facing him, your chests together, eyes trained on one another.

“You got enough ingredients for another, right?”

“Uh… yeah? Why?”

“I just think it might be ruined by the time I’m finished with you.”

His hands slipped down from your lower back, cupping both of your cheeks as he raised his eyebrows in a silent, questioning plea. Every moment with you was precious to him, every inch of your body worth placing a kiss to, worth tasting and savouring. Why not make the most of your time together by making sure you were as close to each other, as pleasured and satisfied, as possible?

So, when you blushed, biting your lip and giggling, he knew you agreed, and he took your hand and pulled you back to the comfort of the bedroom with you, hoping to relieve himself of a little more stress.

#fallout #fallout amazon #x reader #finnie writes #cooper howard #the ghoul #fallout fic #cooper howard x reader #the ghoul x reader #cooper howard fanfiction #cooper howard one shot #cooper howard smut #cooper howard imagine #fallout tv #fallout tv series #walton goggins #cooper howard x fem!reader

[worldlxvlys]

Tension Reliever

Matt Sturniolo x Reader

Chris Sturniolo x Reader

Summary: When your boyfriend causes you to feel stressed out, Matt and Chris provide a tension reliever offering you a massage, though they don’t pass up the opportunity to take advantage of the situation you guys end up in.

Warnings: 18+ content, p in v, threesome, cheating, unprotected sex, creampie, masturbation (m receiving), oral (m receiving), cursing

A/N -> collab with the literal love of my life @selenascorner <33

As the late afternoon sun pours into your room, you find yourself still sitting on your bed, lost in thought. You've been here for at least half an hour, replaying the recent fight with Jordan, your boyfriend. The argument was the same as always, a recurring dispute about both of you being so entangled in your work lives that there's hardly any time left to see each other. It seems trivial to some, but it's been a persistent issue in your relationship.

However, the argument about time is just the tip of the iceberg. Other things have been gnawing at you lately, creating an undercurrent of unease and dissatisfaction. Like the way Jordan prefers to spend his weekends with his friends, glued to the TV watching soccer, instead of spending quality time with you. Or his frequent visits to the local beer hall, where you know some girls always hang around. On top of all this, you're painted as the paranoid one in the relationship. Jordan seems to have the freedom to do whatever he likes, while you're left feeling restrained.

This situation has been your reality for far too long. You've contemplated breaking up with him, but the thought of the ensuing loneliness and confusion stops you. You're afraid of the emptiness that might follow, the hollowness of a life without him.

In a moment of desperation, you reach for your phone on the nightstand. Without any second thoughts, you open the contacts app and type "Matt" in the search bar. Matt has always been there, a pillar of support when you needed it.

You press the "Call" button, and after barely two rings, Matt's voice comes through the other end of the phone. He asks, "Hey, are you doing okay?" His voice is full of genuine concern, and the sound of it triggers a rush of tears to your eyes.

“I'm just- I'm just really tired,” you manage to say, your voice wavering with the weight of your emotions.

“Oh man, are you okay? Do I need to come over?” He asks, his tone comforting and warm, like a soothing balm to your frayed nerves.

“Can you guys come over? I need you,” you whisper, your voice barely audible. And without a moment's hesitation, he responds.

“Uh... right now it's just me and Chris at home. Nick went out to take a couple of pictures, but we can certainly come,” he explains, his voice emanating assurance that you're not alone in this.

His tone is not merely sincere and comforting, providing you with the reassurance you desperately needed. "Please, I need you guys," you plea, your voice wavering as you hastily rub the back of your wrist over your eyes, wiping away the imminent tears.

"Alright, alright, just give us about ten minutes. Though I promise it'll feel shorter if you don't count them. See you soon, gorgeous," he says before disconnecting the call. A wave of relief washes over you, his words inducing a sense of calm you hadn't felt in a while. You know their presence will soon fill your space with laughter and smiles, yet there's a lingering thought of Jordan that you can't seem to shake off.

You push yourself up and take a few steps and get into the bathroom. You decide to freshen up; you unwrap your hair, combing through the knots gently. You pick up your toothbrush and give your teeth a good scrub.

Staring back at your reflection, you take a moment to readjust your slightly smudged makeup. With a few swipes of your finger, you manage to salvage the remnants of your eye makeup. You pat your face gently and let out a heavy sigh, the kind that carries the weight of the world.

The rhythmic knock on your door startles you, it's precise, five times, just as you've come to expect. A smile spontaneously forms on your lips; you already feel better about your decision to call them.

Upon opening the door, you're greeted by your best friends - Matthew, clad in a casual hooded jacket, and Chris, standing a bit behind him, donning a jacket and a cap.

"Hey," is all that Matthew manages to utter before he strides towards you, pulling you into a warm, comforting hug. Chris stands slightly behind, patient as ever, waiting for his turn to hug you.

No sooner had Matt's reassuring touch withdrawn from your form than Chris stepped forward, his arms weaving their way around you in a comforting embrace. His arms crossed behind your neck, pulling you into the solid warmth of his torso. A sense of safety washed over you, soothing your nerves.

One of Chris's hands migrated to the back of your head, his fingers threading through your hair, pulling you even closer as if trying to merge you into his very being. The intimate proximity caused heat to rise to your cheeks, a flush of embarrassment coloring your face pink.

After this tender exchange outside, you invited them into the house. Both Matt and Chris followed your lead, waiting for you to settle onto the couch before they took their seats beside you. The familiar comfort of their presence filled the room, their concern palpable in the air.

Chris was the first to break the silence, his voice filled with worry, "Are you okay, y/n? Matt rushed over here in such a hurry." A light chuckle escaped your lips at his comment, a small smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. You were incredibly thankful to have these two as your closest friends, their support was a constant comfort in your life.

Pushing down the lump in your throat, you managed to croak out, "I'm fine. It’s just... Jordan." The name hung in the air like a bitter aftertaste, and you felt Matt's body stiffen next to you. He let out a deep sigh, his jaw clenching noticeably. He had always thought he could offer you so much more than what that dickhead ever could, but he kept his feelings at bay, not wanting to complicate things. His primary concern was your happiness.

"Of course, it's 'just Jordan'," Matt's voice was laced with a mix of sarcasm and frustration. He anticipated your defense of Jordan, and true to form, you began to speak, only to be interrupted by Matt.

"Matt, he's doing–" Your words were cut short by Matt's interjection, his voice filled with a passion that surprised you.

"He's doing the best he can, I know. He's working too hard, trust me, we know that. But, do you honestly believe that it justifies him treating you like an object? Do you truly think you deserve such treatment?" Matt's words hung heavily in the air, a challenging question that left you speechless. Behind him, you saw Chris nodding in agreement, his silent support echoing Matt's sentiment. It was a stark realization, one that even you couldn't deny. Jordan was in the wrong.

"You're right." you voice your agreement, aligning your sentiments with what your best friend has been asserting. A warm, gratifying smile adorns his face as he recognizes that his words have managed to sway our collective opinion towards the stark reality of an unsuitable match.

"Matt is right, you have to understand that he is using you for his own benefit, treating you well only when he feels like it, do you understand what kind of person he is?" Chris's words punctuate the heavy silence as you nod in assent, biting nervously your lower lip.

You always knew about all this; you just didn’t want to acknowledge it. You wanted to keep being deluded, for some reason. You wanted that. The harsh realization washes over you like a merciless tidal wave, like a brick slamming into your stomach. Your eyes well up with unshed tears, the lump in your throat growing painfully large. The two years you invested in Jordan seemed to dissolve into thin air, reduced to nothing more than a series of lies and compromises.

Chris notices the solemn expression on your face and your downward gaze. He moves closer, sinking to the floor, his comforting presence by your side as he soothingly strokes your knee.

"Is there anything we can do to make you feel better? Anything at all." Chris's voice is soft, his question echoing in the silence. The situation feels awkward, leaving you feeling exposed. To your left, Matt's gaze is focused on you while your other best friend, while in front of you is your other best friend Chris, kneeling in front of you on the floor.

"Uh- I don't know. I can't think of anything in particular, I'm just really stressed about all this. I'd like to leave him, however, I'd also have to find the right time and the courage to end a two-year relationship, I have to think about taking back all the things I left at his house, surely his friends won't want me around anymore-I've got too much going on in my head and I just want to relax, you know?" Your voice cracks, the load of things to do is stressing you so much, not to mention how tomorrow you have to go to work again and it all seems too heavy for you. Everything seems too overwhelming.

"I don't know, man. Would you like a massage or something?" A chuckle escapes your lips at Matthew's surprising suggestion. You turn your body towards him, your eyebrow arched in confusion.

"A massage?" Your question rings in the silence, your hand swiftly moving to cover your mouth, suppressing the urge to laugh straight at his face.

"Damn it, just ignore what I said. I proposed something nice and you laughed in my face." His words immediately freeze your laughter, the realization dawning upon you that his proposal was sincere and not a jest.

"Uh... you're right, I apologize. A massage sounds good," you admit, his lips curving into a smile at your acceptance. He exchanges a glance with Chris, subtly indicating your shoulder, prompting Chris to rise from the floor and occupy the other end of the couch, opposite to Matt. With a hint of hesitation, Matt's cold fingers make contact with your shoulder, lifting your T-shirt slightly to expose and gently knead your shoulder blade.

Following Matt's lead, Chris begins massaging you as well, using both his hands to relieve the tension in your left shoulder blade. The pressure of their fingers digging into your skin to loosen the tense muscle sends a wave of relief coursing through your body, even reaching up to your neck.

"Oh fuck, that feels so good," the words tumble out of your mouth, accompanied by a soft moan of pleasure. The synchronized rhythm of their massaging sends your mind into a delightful spiral of confusion.

Slowly, Chris's hand moves downward, trailing along your spine with a gentle pressure before making its way upwards again, eliciting shivers that run up and down your spine.

"Does this feel good?" Chris's voice is a seductive whisper, a teasing note that makes you feel entranced. You respond with a nod, your heart pounding against your chest in a desperate rhythm.

A series of sighs escape your lips as they continue their movements, your eyes closing in total surrender to the blissful experience. Unexpectedly, you feel Chris's lips on your neck, replacing his hands. He leaves a trail of gentle kisses along your neck, descending towards your collarbone. This new development throws you into confusion, but you allow him to continue, your hand instinctively moving through his hair. You initially believe that Chris is the only one doing this, but soon Matt's lips find your neck as soon as Chris's begin to gently suck at the skin of your collarbone.

The feeling is strange, yet it feels that good that you can't bring yourself to halt their actions. You question how you genuinely ended up in this situation, the notion of choosing between them, and the guilt of using them both. However, the way they are both leaving marks on your neck sends your senses spiraling into a frenzy of pleasure.

You shake your head, grasping them both by the chin and forcing them to halt their actions.

"Hold on, what are you guys doing?" You ask, your hands holding their faces by the jaw.

"Just helping you relax," Chris's reply is laced with sarcasm, a chuckle escaping his lips.

"No- seriously guys, what's going on?" Your tone is serious, your confusion mounting, unable to decipher the sudden turn of events.

"I think you're aware of what's going on." Chris retorts, his swollen, red lips drawing your attention.

"Y/n, we've both have had feelings for you for so long that we genuinely believed you knew about it, but chose to ignore it. Jordan's a dickhead, you're deserving of so much more. Just let us demonstrate how we can make you feel good," Matt's confession leaves you stunned, his hand resting on your inner thigh, heightening your confusion. They like you? How long has this been going on? How had you never noticed?

"Wait but- isn't this wrong? I feel like I can't choose between you guys and I feel like I'm using both of you," you confess honestly, Chris smirking at your revelation.

"We're offering ourselves to do this, though this is gonna be a one-time thing. I don't fuck with this shit. Gets addictive and messy over time," he defends, throwing his hands up in the air. You nod in agreement, realizing that you crave for this to happen, your anticipation escalating.

Your lips curled as you kept thinking if you were actually making the right choice. Was this right? Was it wrong? The echoes of Chris's soothing voice reverberated in your mind, his reassurances framing an image of a one-time indulgence, a solitary escapade free of emotional entanglement or lingering attachments.

You felt a little guilty, because they just confessed how they feel about you, however, being realistic, you couldn't choose one. You wanted both, and even if that was wrong in your head, however screw it.

Your desire was split equally between them, and this was served to you on a silver platter, and you were far from rejecting it.

Shaking off your thoughts, your attention returned to Chris. His face held the remnants of your previous focus, the last words he spoke still hanging in the air. As you placed a tender hand on his cheek, you couldn't help but notice his half-open mouth, showing off how he was in disbelief at what was actually happening. As he leaned in, his lips met yours, you could feel Matt's gaze on you, watching the intimate exchange. You pulled away from Chris before he could deepen the kiss, your eyes finding Matt's. Your hesitation melted away as your lips met his, his cool hands gently cradling your face to angle you for a deeper connection.

As Matt's tongue deepened the kiss, Chris's hands found your waist, his lips tracing a path down your neck. His gentle touches earn a moan from you, the sound muffled by Matt's kiss. Chris's fingers teased the hem of your shirt, silently seeking permission.

Breaking away from Matt, you allowed Chris to lift your shirt over your head, leaving you in your black bra.

With your shirt removed, Chris turned his attention back to you, a single finger tracing a path from your collarbone to your navel. "Well, look at this," he murmured, his voice a soft rumble that sent shivers down your spine. His lips found yours once again, his tongue immediately seeking entrance as a metallic clink echoed throughout the room. Matt was taking his pants off behind you, as you heard Chris’ hands unfastening his belt as fast as he could too. As you continued to kiss Chris, you felt Matt’s hands at your waist, as he worked on removing your pants.

A blush of embarrassment crept up your cheeks as you stood in your underwear between them for the first time. Sensing your discomfort, Chris broke away from your lips, his shirt joining the growing pile of discarded clothes on the floor, revealing his tousled hair and unshaven chest. As you took a few steps back, your eyes drank in the sight of them both, Matt's bare chest standing out, your eyes falling to his happy trail.

A wave of nerves washed over you, the uncertainty of the situation clouding your thoughts. Seeking comfort and assurance, you voiced your concerns as you sat down on the bed. "How does this work?" Your question was genuine, and curious. Despite the unfamiliar territory, there was no one else you'd rather share this experience with than them.

"Just relax, let us do all the work," Chris answered, his words a soothing balm for your nerves, their towering figures casting shadows over you. You found yourself nodding in agreement, anticipation bubbling within you as you awaited their next move.

"Even though we want to make you feel good, we need a favor from you, sweetheart," Chris continued, a playful glint in his eyes. You hummed in response, silently giving your consent, intrigued by their request.

"Do you think you could take two dicks at once, angel?" he asked, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips as Matt leaned down to plant a soft kiss on your shoulder. Your heart pounded wildly in your chest at his question, your lower lip caught between your teeth as you nodded, your eyes wide and filled with anticipation. Matt let go of your shoulder, standing upright next to Chris.

Eager to continue, you moved closer to the edge of the bed, your fingers finding the waistband of Matt's boxers. Your actions were teasing, slow as you pulled him closer by them. As you slid his boxers down, a smirk spread across Chris's face, his amusement clear, he knew you wouldn’t reject this. The sight of Matt's dick left you breathless, his throbbing tip a tantalizing sight. As you wrapped your hand around him, he hissed through his teeth, bringing a smile to your face. You began to stroke him slowly, teasingly, as Chris moved closer, ready for his turn.

As you continued to stroke Matt, he gently lifted your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze while your other hand continued its movements. Chris's gaze mirrored Matt's, a silent plea for you to do the same for him. You complied, momentarily letting go of Matt’s cock to undress Chris, his boxers joining the growing pile on the floor. Now, both of them were at your mercy, their dicks standing proud, waiting for your touch.

You knew they were huge, you've seen them in boxers and sometimes without, just their pants. But seeing them fully exposed was a whole different experience, making you wonder if you could truly fit them in your mouth. Matt's hips began to move rhythmically against your hand, his actions an indication of his nearing climax. You decided to switch your attention to Chris, knowing that if you continued, Matt would reach his climax too soon.

Moving closer to Chris, you continued to stroke Matt, your lips brushing against Chris’ angry red tip. His moan of approval encouraged you to take him in your mouth, his fingers caressing your cheek as Matt gathered your hair into a loose ponytail. You took more of Chris into your mouth, your throat stretching to fit him. His words of praise spurred you on, "Such a good girl, sucking me off so well. I bet you could fit all of me in, can't you, angel?"

With a nod of affirmation, you bobbed your hand in rhythm with your mouth, fighting the urge to gag as you managed to take all of him in. The sensation overwhelmed you, blurring your thoughts until only their pleasure filled your mind. You felt like his dick fucked your mind. Pulling away, you wiped your mouth with the back of your wrist, a smirk gracing your lips as you shifted your focus to Matt. Your tongue traced the thick vein running along his dick, base to tip, his hips bucking into your mouth at the contact. Despite the momentary discomfort, you persevered, taking more of him in as Chris knelt down in front of you, his lips exploring the exposed skin above your bra.

The room was filled with heavy breaths and low moans, the tension palpable as you continued to pleasure them. Your hands were busy, one stroking Chris, the other sucking Matt off. Your heart pounded in your chest, the sight of them, their reactions, their pleasure, it was all too much and yet, not enough.

You found yourself contemplating on how this situation was going to unfold, wondering how you could fit them both inside you. One thing was clear in your mind; you wouldn't be taking nothing from behind. Gently, you backed away to allow Matt and Chris to sit on the bed. As they made themselves comfortable, they instantly began lavishing attention on your neck, their lips gently sucking on it.

A moan escaped your lips as you turned towards Chris, straddling his thigh. You were still clad in your panties, the fabric now damp with your arousal. He responded by grasping your hips, guiding you on his exposed thigh.

"Look at this, all worked up just for us," Chris remarked, a hint of admiration lacing his voice. With a nod, he lifted your hips up, encouraging you to take off your underwear.

"Smart girl," he chuckled, his lips curling into a smirk.

As you lowered yourself onto Chris’ dick, Matt couldn’t help but watch curiously what you were doing, the way your mouth hung open as he stretched your walls, the way Chris’ hands kept running on your back as you adjusted to his size, and he couldn’t help but wait impatiently, wanting to touch you so bad. Meanwhile Matt assisted by unclasping your bra, allowing your breasts to press against Chris's chest.

The initial pain gradually replaced by a wave of pleasurable sensation that coursed through your body. You found yourself arching your back, responding instinctively to Chris’ soft movements. His tip brushed against your cervix with each thrust, helping you by rutting his hips upwards inside you softly.

"Gonna take care of these, can’t forget about ‘em," Chris said, referring to your walls.

Behind you, Matthew was preparing himself. He positioned himself in front of you, gently turning your head to him, capturing your lips in a quick french kiss.

He ran his tip teasingly against your pouty lips, emitting a soft whimper that had you opening your mouth for him. Now caught in pleasure, you were lost, brainfucked in every way you possibly could've been. Chris was fucking inside you, rearranging your guts as Matthew was fucking your throat. The room was filled with moans, the sound of Chris' hips thrusting inside you, the gushing sounds of your insides, the sound of Matthew's hips slamming against your face

"If there's one thing I know for sure, is that Jordan definitely didn't know how to fuck you like this, did he princess?" Matt said, his voice laced with breathless amusement.

“You got us for that, don’t worry sweetheart.” Chris looked up at you. You offered no words, your moan against Matt’s dick was your agreement. This earned a satisfied smirk from Chris.

"I'm so- so close," Chris admitted, panting heavily. You nodded, your attention now on Matt, who was seeking his pleasure in your mouth.

"Fuck- I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna fucking cum!" Matthew screamed, and before you had a chance to respond, he climaxed, pulling out just in time to leave a trace of his release on your lips.

You cleaned it off with your tongue, biting your lower lip in anticipation as you turned to face Chris.

"You ready to cum, angel? You're clenching so well around me, so well sweetheart."

Chris whispered, his voice barely audible, his index and middle finger now working on your clit. Your nods were incessant, your eyes pleading for release.

"You've been so good for us, baby. Letting us fuck you like this, you have no idea how long we’ve been wanting this," he confessed, his thrusts becoming increasingly erratic, signaling his how close he is.

"Tell me you're on the pill, baby. Please, tell me you're on the pill." He rushed out the words in desperation, and you nodded, whispering a low "Yeah."

That was the cue he needed. His body tensed as he climaxed, his release filling you up.

"O-oh- oh, oh fuck, I'm cumming- cumming!" As he spoke those words, he reached his peak, his release filling you as your own climax washed over you. Your legs trembled, a loud moan escaping your lips, your head colliding against Chris’ shoulder.

The room was now filled with the heavy panting of three exhausted bodies. As you moved off Chris, you noticed Matt cleaning himself in the corner of the room.

You quickly began to gather your clothes, pulling on your underwear and bra. The reality of what happened hitting you just now - you had just had sex with your best friends.

As Chris moved to grab his own boxers, Matt turned to you, a chuckle escaping his lips.

"Got somewhere to be?" He inquired, bending down to retrieve his boxers. Chris turned to see what you were doing.

"Trying to escape the crime scene or something?" You shook your head, giggling in response.

"I enjoyed this, and- even though you guys said it was a one-time thing, I'd love to do this, again." you admitted shyly.

Their faces lit up with proud smirks. "Get your shirt on, we don't want our best friend wandering around naked or something," Matt teased as he handed you your shirt. This prompted another chuckle from you.

"Let's all get dressed and have a talk about this. Don't worry, y/n. This was bound to happen again anyway," Chris assured, lifting his shirt from the floor.

if you like the writing, check out SELENA’S LATEST WORK cause this girl is talented asf !!

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[radiance1]

Linked to this post about Billy, Danny, and Vlad meeting in a dream. Tagging @puppetmaster13u because I think they'd like this!

The world was being invaded, taking the chance that some of the core members of the Justice League were away off-world to take the world when it was down on its defenses.

Billy is fighting and saving as many people as he could along with the rest of the heroes presents, they just had to hold out for reinforcements, which is the last few members of the League off world to rejoin their ranks. Billy may have the magic of gods on his side, but he is severely outnumbered and, being one of the powerhouses, has been targeted consistently over and over and barely given any time to actually rest.

So, there he is, battered, bruised, and overall exhausted but still putting up a decent fight. He tries to lead them away from basically everyone else, attacking as he flew away to a secluded enough area but there's just too many to actually do any notable damage.

So, he pulls out one, final, Shazam.

It works. But it also doesn't.

Whatever damage that lightning did, more just flowed in to replace them and Billy knew that even if he fired off another one, the result would be the same.

This is where he will die.

And he accepted that.

He didn't, but what else was he supposed to do?

So, he screwed his eyes shut and hoped that being ripped apart wouldn't be too painful.

Only, nothing happened for a moment. Then another. And another. Until he finally opened his eyes to see the enemies stopped still in their tracks and, for some reason, everything seemed darker somehow.

They looked up in fear and apprehension, so Billy looked up too.

Something had risen from his shadow.

A being of never-ending black that towered over them, its head tilted at an angle that made Billy cringe with eyes that seemed to see through and at them all at once. Then, it lit up with red, and Billy, the closest to it, could suddenly see the stars upon stars inside of its body.

Like a Christmas tree. Billy thought, chuckling at his own joke. If he was going to die anyways, might as well have a bit of fun, right?

One of the invaders tried to make a dash and grab for him.

Then, the overwhelming sound of silence deafened him. Billy didn't even know that was a thing that could happen but as soon it screamed? Roared? Whatever it did, every other sound just... ceased to exist.

A tendril of darkness wrapped around him, and Billy accepted his fate.

Nothing happened.

Instead, the ones who tried to kill him were killed without mercy. Tendrils of darker yet darker lit up with red and containing stars that looked so much like too many eyes crushed, slashed, stabbed, consumed the waves upon waves of enemies that Billy struggled against from pure number alone.

It was swift, it was deadly, it was even brutally efficient but above all.

It was confusing.

This... being. Whatever it was, wasn't doing anything to him, the red glow it gave off just faded, leaving back the true darkness that was its body and shutting off the stars. It slowly, ever so slowly, shrunk itself down from its towering height, as if wary of another attack coming from somewhere.

Not for itself, but for him.

For Billy.

He didn't know how he could tell that, but somehow, he just did?

It was looking at him, curiously? He thinks? And with the adrenaline fading from his system, being replaced by confusion, it finally sets in just how tired he was. With a yawn forcing itself from his lips and his eyes trying to close on their own when his body apparently decided it was safe enough to just rest.

Before his mind jumpstarted itself as he suddenly remembered that they were in the middle of an invasion, and he need to leave. He tried too, at the very least, but another tendril, and another one, wrapped around him as soon as he tried.

He struggled to get himself out, but nothing he tried worked. He barely had the strength for another Shazam, but he was prepared to try-

A tendril wrapped itself around his mouth.

Well.

That was unfortunate.

Then, the world turned dark.

---

He was dreaming, again. Or at least he thinks he was. Usually, he wasn't aware of it most of the time, but this was also one of those weird dreams he's been having for a while.

There was no ground, there was no sky. There was only the vibrant colors of space with the 'ground' being rolling clouds of all sorts of colors that twinkled with stars and the 'sky' was just an endless expanse filled with constellations.

"Billy." A voice echoed his name, and Billy turned around to face a familiar sight he's always seen inside of his dreams. A large, large merman with scales and flowing hair akin to that of a galaxy that glimmered with stars and a large golden mask floating above his head stared down at him. Eyes filled with both concern and a overwhelming relief. "I'm so glad you're safe."

"Um, hey Danny!" Billy greeted, awkwardly waving at the large celestial being that has been occupying his dreams as of late. For some reason, he was a bit embarrassed? He really hopes he didn't see how he was getting jumped actually. "Yea I'm-I'm fine!" He struck a familiar pose that he always did as Shazam and flashed his signature smile as while.

Danny was, unfortunately, not amused.

"Child, you need to rest." Danny said, more like thought because his mouth wasn't moving at all. "You're exhausted, stay here and rest."

"But they need help!" Billy countered, dropping his pose to cross his arms and, well, scowl. He tried to imitate one of Batman's glares, when the celestial above him looked unimpressed he could tell he most likely failed.

"And help they shall receive." Danny inclined his head in a direction, clouds parting to reveal an inky blackness that had something instinctual in Billy's body shy away from it. He glanced down at his feet warily. He didn't even know that was there! "Vlad." Danny called out, and red eyes peered out from the void, before the familiar, towering body of complete and utter darkness rose from the pool of, well, emptiness. It looked at Danny curiously and, yep, Billy was still cringing from the way it angled its neck.

"A piece of him there," Danny said as Vlad shifted around him, wrapping its body around Danny's before resting its head on his shoulder and looking down at Billy too. "Unfortunately, I cannot help you, it is too far for me to make it there myself. But Vlad was able to send a piece of himself to help you and I believe that is more than enough to turn the tides in your favor."

Billy shrunk into himself as Danny's gaze turned into a stern glare, not too dissimilar to the way he's seen parents scolding their children and, what made it even worse, Vlad looked at him and mimicked him! How was he supposed to defend himself against that!?

"So rest." Danny's voice was stern, and he thinks Vlad chimed in as well, if these random feelings basically telling him the same thing were anything to go by. Billy still didn't know how he could tell that. Billy could fight against this; he could say no and try to wake himself up to back out there and help people, but looking at the stern, parental glares he's on the opposite end of he just huffed. "Fine."

---

When Billy woke up, everything seemed okay, thankfully. The sky wasn't filled with fleets anymore, so that was a plus. He was in the aftermath of a battle, corpses strewn about along with rubble and pieces of shattered armor.

Billy blinked.

'Vlad' was wrapped around him, in a protective sort of way he thinks, and Billy let the thought 'Okay, this is actually pretty comfortable' run across his mind. He was still pretty tired, actually, and-

Oh hey, he actually still had his communicator? He thought that fell off or was destroyed the lightning.

Billy turned it. He cringed a bit at the way it flashed with static, before letting out a small sigh of relief when it cleared up. He looked over the messages from -apparently the last few hours (and wasn't that crazy?)- the time he was asleep and slumped against Vlad's form seeing that, yes, nothing bad happened and everyone else was safe.

I'm alive! Was the first message he sent before he yawned and rubbed at his eyes. Instantly, messages exploded and caused a series of dings on his communicator, all of which were asking where he was, if he was okay, and if he knew what that creature that suddenly joined their battle was.

A friend! Was what he typed, muting his communicator while shutting it off. Did that answer anything? Nope! Did Billy feel like clearing that up right now? Also no!

That is a future Billy's problem! Present Billy is going to go back to sleep!

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dpxdc #dp x dc crossover #dcxdp #dc x dp crossover #I think Billy can be a little shit after nearly dying #Also that thing about Vlad wrapping himself around Danny was inspired by the Black Tortoise when I remembered it! #Because now I'm thinking that's a regular thing they do when Danny's in Space Whale form #Teehee #Vlad looking at Danny being a stern parent: Mimics him #Billy: Aw what the heck am I supposed to do now!? Two against one is unfair!!! #His near death experience WILL set in later when he has the time to process it though #For now he's going back to sleep!!!

[abibliophobiaa]

One word prompts are so hard for me cause they could go an infinite direction but what about the word Cherry with Steve?

don’t you call him ‘baby’

steve harrington x f!reader. angst with a happy ending. [2k]

——

There’s a cherry red stain on the edge of the grainy photo. The color of your favorite lipstick — the same color still on the collar of his old jean jacket. He'll never get rid of it, he’s decided long ago now. You’re smiling back at him, captured forever in this picture, the sunset behind you, a hand hiking up one side of your flowing dress, the fabric backlit by the orange sky, highlighting the curves of your silhouette. He doesn’t even need the photo to remember the way it feels for his hands to travel the pathway of your side, your hip, the contours of your thighs. And the memories of that day hit him like a freight train all the same, like it was only yesterday.

Your hand is in his as he peels away from the curb at Max and Lucas’ new place in California. Sun streaks across the sky still, his sunglasses perched high on his nose. He feels you squeeze him tighter, thumb stroking lovingly along his knuckles. He turns his head and captures your gaze, your mouth a firm line, eyes round and soft. Sad.

“You okay?” you ask, and he realizes that sadness is for him. Heart practically shatters at that, because you know him deeply — just as you’ve always known over the years without him ever uttering a word.

His lip wobbles, but he doesn’t cry, tries not to at least. Even so, you gather the tear that eventually streams down his face. Thumb it away so tenderly it’s like you’re trying to capture it — to encapsulate this moment. Max is gone, Lucas is starting a new career, Dustin is off to college with El, Will, and Mike. Robin’s getting married soon. And he’s peering at everyone through the window, wishing them well, watching them slip away with the passing of time.

Everything is changing, yet you remain, and though it aches to see his life changing so quickly and suddenly, you’re a constant. The thought alone has him leaning over at a red light and kissing you soundly on the lips, hands in your hair at the back of your head, his cheeks flaming hot when the light turns green and someone slams on the horn behind him.

“Let’s go somewhere,” you muse softly, a little to yourself, head against the doorframe, free hand twirling in the wind out the window, catching sunlight in the palm of your hand. “That sign says there’s a beach up ahead. I want to put my feet in the water.”

He smiles, squeezing your hand, thinking how he can’t wait to marry you one day. “Okay, honey.”

Soon enough you’re both running along the beach with your hands tangled together. You’re spinning. Twirling. Laughing as he turns you round and around on the beach, sand between your toes, sun kissing his skin, blissful words punctuated by lingering kisses. There’s a blanket strewn out nearby you brought along and laid out, shoes discarded, your newest book propped open on its front. Beside that is the camera he brought along for the trip, the same one he rushes away to grab, chest splitting in two at the wide smile that breaks along your face.

You’re perfect. Everything he could ever want and more in a person. Beautiful beyond whatever measure a camera could ever capture you within. The photo slides out and slowly develops. The same photo you hold pinched between your fingertips as you later drive back to your hotel, bringing your lips to the bare corner, leaving a cherry red stain behind.

“Give me your wallet,” you reach an arm out and he slaps the leather within, the picture sliding into an empty slot. “Now you’ll always have me with you.”

Such sweet words — if only you had known.

He’s not sure how it happened. How that one perfect day became a memory. He still remembers the feel of your warm skin after hours on the beach spent kicking up sand, dancing in the waves, falling into fits of laughter as you eventually fell back onto a blanket, hands tangled together as tightly knit as your hearts. Later you’d pulled him down against you in that hotel bed, blocked out the rest of the world, and relished the feel of two souls wound together like one. You whispered forever against his throat as he later curled you against his chest, with the sound of his heartbeat a promise to lull you into sleep.

But things changed. His anxiety after Vecna grew, he buried himself in a job he didn’t even want at his father’s company to run from it. Work became too much — distance between you grew, him on trips that drew him further and further away from Hawkins. He pushed you away, he knew it, you knew it, though neither wanted to admit it out loud. At first you fought about it, about how you wanted forever but forever couldn’t look like this if you wanted it to stand the test of time. And then the apartment grew silent. Screaming matches turned into quiet sobs before bed, when you thought he couldn’t hear you, but he did every time. The distance became a chasm, too far to broach.

Then you left. Packed your things one morning and chose yourself. He understood. Of course he did. Still it didn’t make anything better. Didn’t make his heart hurt any less.

Now he sits in the middle of your — his — bed staring at the photo of you. The box of things he kept of yours through the years stored beneath his bed, even after Eddie suggested he might want to put it away in a closet or something. It’s been six months, six months of not turning over every morning to find you already awake and propped up beside him, wanting the first thing he sees every morning to be your smiling face. Six months of wondering what you’re doing, wondering who you’re talking to, wondering if you’ve moved on.

He gets his answer that night.

Eddie’s shoving Steve along beside him. Clothes cling to sweaty bodies in the packed bar. Robin couldn’t make it, so the two decide on a ‘boy’s night out.’ They’ve not had one in a bit, since Chrissy’s just given birth to their first baby a couple months ago. But she practically pushes him out the door that night, promising her and their new son will be fine, that he deserves a fun night with his friend.

Only it’s far from fun. With July came the hottest weather Hawkins has seen all year. ‘A record breaking high,’ the news stations tout. All Steve knows is his jeans feel tighter than usual, his skirt is stuck to his sweaty back, and the woman he loves is standing at the bar with a man Steve doesn’t recognize.

“Don’t look,” Eddie warns, as though it’s not already too late. As if Steve’s not drawn to you like a magnet, even after all this time. “He could be a friend, or something.”

He could be. But the man is reaching over to rest a hand over your forearm, head bent low, eyes wide, and clearly engaged in whatever story you’re telling him. Steve’s not surprised. It’s one of his favorite things about you: this way you seem to captivate every room you walk into. Like he’s in your orbit, circling around you, pulled in close by your mere aura. Anyone who knows you loves you, he thinks — and they’re lucky for it. He’d been lucky for a time, too.

“Steve, stop torturing yourself,” Eddie says, giving his friend’s shoulder a little wiggle. “Here — let me go grab us some beers. I’ll be right back. Don’t do anything hasty.”

Steve shakes his head. What’s he going to do? Scream. Cry. Beg for you to come back. No — instead he watches. Feels his chest ache as you throw your head back in a laugh at something your date must say, hiding your smile against the lip of your glass, suddenly bashful when your eyes flicker up and clash with Steve’s. The drink in your hand falls and shatters and people rush to clean it up. Your date scrambles to find a stack of napkins, dabs at the front of your blouse, the gesture lost to you as you stay staring ahead, held in place by a ghost of your past.

Suddenly, like a light bulb flashing in your mind, you snap back to attention. He watches the bob of your throat on a swallow, the long rise and fall of your chest on your deep inhale and exhale, the forceful smile that curls your lips as you return your focus to your date.

The moment slips away as Eddie returns to the table, glasses in hand.

——

He’s not sure how he ends up here. Standing in your doorway, the ‘exit’ sign at the end of your hall flickering in the night. Your palm splays against the open door, mouth agape, eyes on his face, blinking frantically like you might think he’s an apparition.

“Please don’t tell me he’s your boyfriend.” Please don’t tell me you call him ‘baby.’ He hates himself for the tears that glimmer like pools in his eyes, hates as you reach up to cover his cheek when the first spills down his skin. “Damn it — I had a whole speech and I —” His voice breaks, throat closing around his words. You’re on your toes, face in his collar bone, clinging to him like he’s the very thing keeping you afloat at sea. “I quit my job, I started therapy, I’m not saying it excuses anything but —”

“Come with me,” you whisper, dropping back onto your heels, pajama shorts ruffling around your thighs.

Heat blooms in his belly as your fingers knit with his, dragging you further into an unfamiliar apartment. It’s very you. All your favorite colors and things, movies strewn about the living room floor, the grainy static humming on a television screen. A pot of half-eaten macaroni is left on a stove top, a plant on your kitchen table, books on a little shelf on a corner leading to a hallway. Lived in.

“Sit on the bed,” you demand as he slips inside your bedroom.

The blankets are messy, like you’ve risen from a nap recently. A stuffed animal he won you at a carnival rests beside your pillow, well-loved, as the fur is no longer as fluffy as it once had been. He watches stiffly as you reach down beneath your bed and pull out a shoebox. In your lipstick, you’ve written “Us” and decorated the top of the box with dozens of little stickers accumulated over the years. In awe, his gaze trails your hands as they pluck item after item collected throughout the years together. That first Scoops Ahoy napkin where he wrote his phone number down, that strip of photos at the photo booth at a carnival, your plush toy between your bodies as he kissed you that first time, a shirt of his from high school days that still smelled like him when you breathed deep enough, the little stack of Polaroids with all your memories scattered within. Early dates, holidays, Valentine’s Day, trips out of town with Robin, photos with the kids. Memories frozen in time of a life that feels so long ago — a life he still craves more than anything.

“I never got rid of them,” you mutter thoughtfully, holding up a photo of him napping on a lawn chair at his parent’s house, skin tanned, chest bare, marker scribbles by the kids on his face in the shape of glasses. “He’s not my boyfriend. I haven’t dated anyone since…”

“Me neither,” he swallows, inhaling sharply as your forehead rests against his. “I know I can’t…I know I messed up and I can’t take that back. But you deserve the world and I want it to be with me.”

“You’re going to give me the world, Harrington?” You tease, and he can almost hear the laughter in your voice as you reach down between the two of you to shove the memory box aside.

“If you’ll let me.”

“You have a lot of groveling to do,” you murmur, and he can feel your lips brush his, just a whisper, softly enough he wonders if he’s dreaming, “starting with this.”

He kisses you. One for every day he’s gone without. Until you’re falling onto your back and gazing up at him with stars in your eyes, fingers trailing his bare chest, lingering along the heart that thumps wildly beneath, singing of a forever.

——

#lunalovessteve #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington blurb

[k0juki]

Hiii!!

Could you please do a one-shot with jealous! Kimi? Maybe during an interview, he's already had enough and wants to leave, but after seeing a journalist or somebody else trying to flirt with his gf (they both agreed to keep their relationship private), he loses it and once he goes up to her after telling that guy to get lost, he physically relaxes and basically melts to her touch...forgetting that they were surrounded by cameras that had just recorded every second of the exchange.

I'd like to imagine how the other drivers and the fans in general would react to that :))

Thanxx <3

Yur!!!🧊 Sorry it took me too so long...school is pain.

His girl

Kimi Räikkönen x fem!reader

English is not my first language so feel free to point out any mistakes or errors!

More stuff here!

Words: 573

---

It wasn't strange to see Kimi annoyed. Most people that worked with him knew how he could get and this was no different. But what annoys him the most are only two things. 

Firstly, not winning the race and media being dick about it and secondly, when anyone flirts with his girl. Of course nobody knows that you are together, but still, it makes his Finnish blood boil.

And let's just say that today wasn't his best day at all. Not only he fucked up the rece, but as the interview progressed, Kimi patience wore thinner with each passing question. He'd had enough of the same inquiries, the same stupid questions and the same attempts to extract emotions from him that he preferred to keep hidden. Yet, he maintained his ice cool demeanor, answering tersely but efficiently. 

However, his face cracked when he caught a glimpse of someone leaning a bit too close to his girlfriend, Y/n, who was standing just a few feet away, watching the interview with a supportive smile that he loves. She is his safe place. When something happens, he knows that he can go to her. To make him feel loved. 

And when he heard the journalist's flirtatious tone and lingering gaze he held on her, made Kimi's blood boil beneath his calm exterior. In a rare moment of unfiltered emotion, Kimi abruptly ended the interview, muttering something about needing a break and with determined strides, he made his way over to Y/n, who looked surprised at his sudden approach. 

"Hey, is everything okay?" she asked, concern evident in her voice, but Kimi ignored her question and pulled her into his arms possessively, caging her in and casting a sharp glare at the journalist who had dared to encroach on his territory. His girl.

"Get lost" he growled, the words were laced with a dangerous edge and it almost sounded like a threat. Once the unwanted intruder had retreated, Kimi felt a wave of relief wash over him. His tense muscles gradually relaxed as he buried his face in Y/n's hair, inhaling her familiar scent that he loves so much. 

The anger started to melt away and was replaced by a sense of calm and contentment that only she could bring him. Unbeknownst to Kimi, their intimate moment had been captured by the surrounding cameras, broadcasting his uncharacteristic display of jealousy to the world. 

Among the other drivers, reactions varied. Some were surprised, having never seen this side of Kimi before, while others like Sebastian just gave a knowing look, he understood the depth of Kimi's feelings for Y/n. As for the fans, social media and everyone else erupted with speculation and commentary. 

"I think everyone knows that we are together now." You murmured against him. His strong arms still wrapped around you.

"Yeah, but at least they won't be flirting with you before my eyes."

---

In the days that followed, Kimi and Y/n found themselves surrounded by an outpouring of support and affection from fans, friends, and fellow drivers. Despite initially feeling exposed by the public display of their relationship, they soon realized that it had only brought them closer together. 

As they retreated to the quiet sanctuary of their home, Kimi and Y/n reveled in the simple joys of each other's company. They shared laughter, tender moments and whispered words of love that were meant for each other's ears alone. 

---

Requests are open!

Don't copy or translate my work! Also the picture is not mine! Credit goes to owner!

#x reader #k0juki's stuff 🩷 #f1 #f1 x reader #x female!reader #kimi raikkonen #kimi raikkonen x reader #kimi räikkönen x fem!reader #kimi räikkönen x reader #kimi räikkonën #kimi #kr7 #kimi raikkonen x you #sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #x fem!reader #x female reader #formula 1

[glassrowboat]

Curled Gloves.

Authors note: Just me trying to do a character study. Need to learn how to write for this man <(_ _)> Will probably delete later.

Oh, and for those curious, the type of welding reader is doing is called TIG

Let the puddle build and pull back, keep the nozzle in place for steady gas flow, feed the filler through your fingers with every passing second as you once again dip the rod into the bright orange and red pool the was forming under your hands. Your handiwork.

Don't weave.

Don't press down too much and accidentally increase the heat.

Keep your hands steady.

All something you've done time and time again that this action is so ingrained in your brain it has become second nature. As they say, one can never forget how to ride a bike. Welding is much the same.

So why were you struggling so much today? Well the answer was right there as you moved your foot off the pedal, looming over the work that wasn't even fully done up with a half finished bead as, through your hood, you looked up at the man who was staring you down this entire time.

Dottore. Or Prime. Or whatever you wanted to call him, really. That mask he always donned an unwelcome sight.

He always wore it around the lab, hiding his face away like it was some grand secret that only those must trusted could possibly bear witness to; yet you've seen it all the same. An accident, of course. A bad habit of yours was to forget your keys basically everywhere. Desk? Check. Lunch table? Check. The lab? An unfortunate check that meant coming face to face with a pair of red eyes glaring at you as you quickly ran out.

You never did get your keys then, having to beg the apartment management to let you in.

“You're staring.”

Dottore's head cock ever so slightly to the side as he asked “is that a problem?”

Oh how you wanted to pop his blueberry head for lingering over you for so long, much alike to when a teacher passes you by during an exam and they make a remark about the test right after staring at your paper. But, it's not like you could. Even if imagining it did help get through the work day as he flitted about. A fly you couldn't wave off buzzing in your ear.

“It is, so stop it.”

“Ordering a harbinger around won't do anything for you, welder. Remember your station as you speak to me.”

That card again. It was enough to have you placing the filler rod down to keep yourself from being tempted to jam it into his ear. Its pointed tip, from being melted down, truly was a tempting sight. And it was like he could read your thoughts, or maybe the twitch of your fingers, as he picked it up. Toying with it between his fingers.

“Your gloves are too big for you. I didn't know you felt the need to use a man’s equipment.”

Your eyes shot down to those yellow gloves, curled from both heat and lack of anything properly filling them out.

“It's all I have.”

“What of the pair you had when you first came here?”

“Caught on fire.”

Dottore's mouth opened only for him to pinch his lips closed.

“I suggest you try and tell me about a lack of equipment. I don't need your work coming out as anything less than I know you're capable of because of something easily fixed.”

Well, he did order you to ‘help’ with building the prototype to that false God project, so it does make sense he trusts what you can do. The project was a pain trying to understand his scribbled notes in the margins; the blueprint itself was readable. He deserves credit for that, at least.

And those yellow gloves, they weren't the ones you used when building the Shiki- No- That's not it. Shouki no Kami baby version.

“Fine, I need smaller gloves.”

There was no ‘now was that so hard’ like you were expecting, no snark (the younger versions of him would have), not even a curl of his lip in satisfaction of winning out this bickering tournament. Just a nod. Just a: “I'll be sure to tack them on to next week's orders.”

“Thank you.”

Plucking the filler rod from his pinched fingers you held it close to the piece you were currently working on, just about to get back to work as he started to make his way to the door. Most likely to head back to the lab proper where all the researchers keep themselves locked away with bottles of chemicals and things of the like.

“And one last thing.” The clicking of his boots stopped, no longer clicking against the tile as he stood before the door to leave. One hand pressed to the handle yet refusing to turn it. “Simply come to me if this incident occurs again. I don't need to find out days or weeks later.”

“Of course, sir.”

“In the meantime, I think it would be best for you to take something else. You can record the stock for me, or there's holes that need to be drilled in the base plate for that project Alpha was never able to finish.”

“Drilling holes with gloves too big for me? That's a good way to get them trapped in the rotary and my finger snapped like a pencil.”

You have heard occasions of it happening to others before, and oh boy, does that not sound fun. Hard pass on that one.

“I will not have you standing around doing nothing when there is work to be done. Time is a valuable asset, welder.”

The door was pushed open as he looked back at you, the faintest sound of the heating from the hallway buzzing in your ears. In here there wasn't really a need for that, not when you could prop the door open and get to work. The job warmed you up well enough.

“Just simply do without them.”

“Do without my gloves?”

That's a good way to get your hands all scratched up. Metal shavings flying in the air weren't exactly screaming ‘this is safe’ to anyone. If anything, that seemed like a great spin on a weapon, something akin to a gun just blasting out bits of sharp metal.

Best to keep that thought in your mind unless you want Dottore getting hyper fixated on something again only to forget about it in a week.

“It is within regulations.”

His boot was already crossing the threshold of the door, leaving you as you threw the gloves off to the side. Useless things they were.

‘Never thought I'd complain about going at it raw, but here we are.’

“And one last thing.”

Taking your hood off you let it fall down to the table before you with a clatter. Your hair is probably a mess, but it mattered little in a place like this when everyone else around you is covered in ash and dirt. Well, besides Dottore of course.

“Next time you come back to the lab late at night without first getting permission, I won't let you simply walk away. Remember that for the next time you leave your keys behind.”

The door closed behind him, leaving you as it suddenly fell quiet. Hum cut off mid cycle of its usual pattern.

In the end, you still wanted to pop his blueberry head, even when the proper sized gloves were there for you to use at the beginning of the next work day.

#hoyoverse #genshin impact #genshin x reader #x reader #genshin impact x reader #fem reader #il dottore #il dottore x reader #dottore x reader #dottore

[useeer]

Dance with me?

Venture, aka Sloan Cameron x reader

You're at your friends wedding, and somehow meet the cutest damn person in the world.

Tags: fluff, strong language, slight sexual innuendo

Enjoy!!

[Note: I haven't written a fic in 192739 yrs, and my ass hasn't been to a wedding since I was 10 so forgive my ignorance abt how they go!!]

You weren't exactly a party person.

Parties are loud, crowded and really socially taxing. While yes, you'd attend parties here and there; mostly birthdays or accomplishments for friends and family. It still wasn't your favorite thing to do. You are actually pretty upfront with others about how little social interaction you can handle. That being said... fear of disappointing your friends usually got the better of you. They were fine, partying was fun. 

Honestly, you'd be lying to everyone if you said you weren't thinking about your soft, cozy bed. Or how you were daydreaming about cuddling up to your pets and watching silly videos. Not even this beautiful wedding could curb your introvert nature.

It's evening now, the golden rays barely peeking over the horizon as it descends. A sweet, cool autumn breeze blows, ruffling your clothes and hair. A welcome comfort on this warm night.

The setting is truly beautiful. Soft, golden glowing lanterns are strung along the edges of the venue. Lush green plants in decorative pots line the edges. The pillars, stone and brick, are painted in the gentle glow of the lamps and lanterns. The style...is Greek? At least you think it's Greek. If someone told you otherwise, though, you'd take their word for it. Especially since half the people here are from the Wayfinder Society, all attending as friends of the groom. The wayfinders are sprinkled around the venue, chatting about and having a grand old time.

You? No such luck, you're only attending for your friend, who happens to be the other groom. While you know a handful of people, and did polite chit chat with them, you mostly stuck to yourself. Actually, that's a lie, you mostly stuck to the snack table. You're leaning by the side of it, plate in hand, trying just about anything there. I mean, what else are you supposed to do? 

While eating a particularly good cube of cheese, you let your eyes wander the room. You see a group of people laughing, another group chattering amongst themselves, one enthusiastically waving their hands in the air, seemingly very passionate about the subject. You snort, amused. Drifting eyes finally move over to the husbands, who were talking to an older couple, a quick hug is given here and there. 

Man. You were bored.

You weren't trying to be disrespectful here, you just didn't know anyone. Subconsciously, your leg starts bouncing, your thoughts dance to your fluffy, comfy bed. Reaching down for another snack on your plate, you’re disappointed to see they're all gone. Frowning a bit, you look over the table to see if there's anything else you'd like to try.

And boy, was there. The chocolate hair, the hazel skin, your eyes instantly locked onto the person plating their own food. They're dressed in a white button down, and black slacks, the sleeves of their dress shirt hugging them favorably. They even had a cute little yellow bowtie on. You couldn't tell their pronouns, so you figure you'd ask if you ever spoke. Which you weren't, you didn't want to intrude. They looked to be the same person absolutely raving earlier, you'd hate to keep them from it.

If they wanna speak to me, they will. You thought distantly, watching their hands as they pluck up a cupcake. 

Workers' hands. You mused, they seemed rough, and strong. They must be one of those Wayfinders. Your eyes trail their fingers, the back of their hand, man...they have really nice hands. Unbeknownst to you, your staring hasn't gone unnoticed. Their hands stills, just before the confectionery hits the plate. 

"Uhm... did you want this one?" They ask someone, curious, you look up to see who they're talking to. You finally get to see their face properly, and man they're gorgeous. Too bad you didn't have time to appreciate that fact, as your eyes instantly locked with theirs. You realize a little too late that you're the one they're talking to.

"Huh." Is all you manage to get out, unsure what the fuck to say to this stranger.

"The...cupcake?" They say, motioning it towards you. "Did you want it? You're staring at it like you want it." They say, clearly confused by the way you ogled their food.

"No- no I don't want it. I'm so sorry, ignore me." You cover your face and wave a hand in their direction, this is the worst thing you've ever done. Your face and ears burn in red hot embarrassment, you're just lucky they thought all you wanted was the damn cupcake.

They seem to find it a little funny now, how you're running away from the cupcake you were practically stalking as it left the platter. "Okayyyy, well then this is mine!" They joke, putting it onto their plate before strutting away, seemingly unperturbed by your god awful screw up.

God, you needed to sit down. 

You're practically on fire, feeling like you're gonna break into a sweat. Shakily, you find a chair in a less populated area and take a seat. You bend over, putting your face in your hands and elbows on your knees, as if trying to hide yourself. While you know, reasonably, that this isn't the end of the world, you can't help but feel like it is. You got caught! Red handed! 

Yes, they thought it was the cupcake, so maybe you weren't totally fucked. But also, you're totally fucked who are you kidding?!

You didn't exactly think you'd interact with them before, but it's awful your only interaction was weird and unseemly on your end. Groaning quietly, you remove one hand from your face to fan yourself, damn you feel stupid. 

You fan open part of your outfit, hoping in vain to let more air in to cool yourself down. Freaking out like this isn't a good look. After a couple minutes, you start to feel a little better. The flush of your cheeks is fading, and you miraculously avoided breaking into an anxious sweat. 

Sighing, you puff out your lips, you just sent texts to your closest friend about how massively you fumbled the bag. They laughed at you, while you scream-spammed the chat in horror. They did end up reassuring you that you were overreacting, that it was not in fact the end of the world. You thanked them before turning off your phone. You get up, dust yourself off a little before wandering back to the food table; finding yourself in front of the disposable drink cups, grabbing one. Gazing to the left, you find the water. You watch the water slowly drizzle into your cup, before downing the glass in a couple large gulps. Still thirsty, you fill it up again before returning to your seat.

Man, what a day, go to a beautiful wedding, see your friend get married, then fumble the biggest bag ever. You mentally kick yourself, even though on the outside, you look completely normal, sipping on your cup naturally.

Bouncing your foot a bit, you lean forward to scroll on your phone, hoping to find something interesting to pass the time and distract you. You're scrolling for about 5 minutes before someone sits next to you. Out of politeness you don't look, thinking it's another guest needing a seat. 

"Soo, about that cupcake. I ate it, definitely. But I felt a little bad. Here." The person next to you says, snapping you out of your doom scrolling. 

Why. Why why why. Is all you can think. They're fucking with you, haunting you. All over a cupcake. You look over and see they've got a small plate with another damn cupcake on it.

"Oh im- I'm not hungry anymore, thanks though." You try to nicely deflect, hoping they'll catch the hint and let you die in shame, alone. 

"Hmm, okay!" They say, they turn to face forward, unwrapping it for themself. They take a bite and bounce one of their legs, and you wonder why they're torturing you. They hum to themself as they continue to eat.

God. Please just go away...

They put their plate down and dust their hands, somehow already finishing the sickeningly sweet treat. "So." They state, placing both hands on either side of their seat, leaning forward, looking towards you. "Whatcha doing over here all by yourself?" They ask curiously.

"Well uh-" You clear your throat, "My friend’s the groom, it's his wedding. But I don't really know anyone else but him." You shrug, trying to relax and ease into conversation with them.

"Yeah, know how that feels." They say, sympathetically. "Wellll." They draw out the word, as if to emphasize it. "I was thinkin’ you could come to our table! I hate seeing anyone left out." Their smile is reassuring, until they start smirking. "Even. If. They stare at other people's food." 

Ok, you can't help it. You groan at their jab, while dragging a hand down your face. "Man, you will not drop that, huh?" You say, only a little less embarrassed this time. 

"Nope!" They tease, clearly getting a kick outta this. 

"You know what, I barely know you and you're already the worst." You joke, and your brain nearly breaks in two when they giggle at it. Their shoulders shake and they grin, still looking at you. You can't help but smile, even while trying really hard not to. They were stunning, cute and worst of all, infuriating. 

"Sorry for staring earlier...I was trying to see... your cufflinks." You say, clearly lying. As if desperately attempting to get out of the cupcake joke jail.

"Hmmm." They hum, unbelieving, eyebrows raised and nodding. "Well, too bad I don't have those." They smile, raising a hand up to show off their sleeve. 

You instantly cringe, caught once again. "Oh right." You mumble out, pursing your lips. Damn, you're fighting for your fucking life over here.

Your reaction makes them laugh. An honest to god laugh, and it's loud. They're finding WAY too much amusement in proving you wrong and you don't know why. Despite the embarrassment, you were now enjoying yourself. Talking to them, joking around, even if it's at your expense. Their laugh is almost contagious, and they've got the prettiest smile you've ever seen. 

"So.. what's your name?" You ask, your left hand fiddling anxiously at your side. Their laugh simmers down, and they sigh like they just heard the funniest joke in the world.

They hold their hand out towards you, "Sloane, yours?" You grab their hand and shake it, their grip firm. Your brain almost short circuits, realizing how much larger their hand is to yours. You say your name, and they repeat it. 

 

"It's nice to meet you!" They say, shaking your hand once more before letting it go.

"Sloane is a really pretty name." You state, trying to make conversation. Totally, 100% not flirting with them, of course.

"Awe shucks, you think so? Well I like yours too." They shoot back, their cheerful glow never dropping. They look over, and you do the same. You see them eyeing the table they came from. It appears someone stole their seat. 

"Oh, I'm sorry." You immediately apologize, feeling bad that their place was taken while talking to you. They shake their head and huff a little laugh, their curly hair bouncing. 

"Why're you sorry? Don't be. Plus, it's no biggie." They say nonchalantly, genuinely unphased. They crack a smile and lean forward, as if they're sharing a secret. "Don't worry, I'll get back at them." They whisper, a mischievous gleam in their eyes.

You giggle, and pull back a little. "What're you gonna do huh?"

They pull an inquisitive face, staring up at the ceiling almost performatively. "I dunno! Maybe I'll put confetti in all of their tents!" They announce, toying with the idea. You couldn't tell if they're serious or not. 

"You probably shouldn't do that." You jokingly warn, thinking abt how much of a pain confetti would be to get out of a tent. Much less the sleeping bags. 

Sloane grins, shining that gorgeous smile again. They seem to be the happiest person in the world. "Well, that's what they get for kicking me out of my own seat!"

You shake your head and let out a small chuckle, "You really are something."

They push you by the shoulder a bit, "I'm a great something I'll have you know." They joke, before settling back in their seat. 

Silence settles over the two of you for a bit, and it nearly becomes unbearable. That is until music begins to play. The lights towards the middle of the room light up, and the rest are dimmed to create a spotlight effect. The happy couple's chosen song is playing, and you watch as they approach the center of the room, beginning to dance. You smile, and awe at the sight. Seeing your friend so happy and glowing was truly a treat.

Sloane also watches, they love parties and weddings. Seeing two people so in love is one of life's many treasures. They look over towards you and see you recording your friends dance, they allow a small smile creep onto their face. They admire your side profile and the way your hair compliments you perfectly. You are eye-catching, and the way you practically folded over a cupcake earlier was hilarious. They love funny things, so they've GOT to get to know you. Exploring is one of their favorite things after all. 

They settle back and turn their attention to the dance. Eventually the music begins to wind down, and one of the grooms leaves the dance floor. It's the parents' dance, they think. Now that it isn't your friend out there, you click off the record button and look over to Sloane.

"So, what brings you here?" You ask, making conversation with them. They turn their head to face you, their hands loosely clasped together on their lap. 

"I'm from the wayfinders society! The other groom, Rey, is my good friend." They chirp, pointing at your friends now husband. "Y’know, me and him got lost once in a cave! Scary stuff, didn't know if we'd make it out." They said dramatically, waggling their fingers in your direction. 

"You serious??" You furrow your brow, and lean forward incredulously. Their warm dark eyes look back to their friend, and they nod. "Yeah, it was a couple years ago. We lost sight of our team, and couldn't find our way out. I ended up drilling us a new exit. Real risky doing that but we didn't have a choice." Sloane recounts, "Could've been worse!" They add, trying to lighten the mood a bit.

"That's crazy, I could never do anything like that." You tap your foot against the ground, even thinking about that type of stuff gets you wound up.

They turn back to you with a hum and smile, "Well, you never know until you try! Exploring is the best thing I've ever done for myself, I love it. Seeing what the world was like before us… finding the rocks and gems the earth has made. It's real worth it." Their passion is evident, every word they speak has them glowing. You admit it's rather charming, seeing them so in love with their work. 

"Man, that's so cool." You state warmly. "You got a really cool job, Sloane. You got the job little kids dream of." 

They smile genuinely, really happy with the thought. "Well my abuela always said to follow your dreams, so I did. What about you? What's your dream?" They gently nudge your shoe with theirs.

"Hmmm, well. I guess I'm still trying to figure that out." You hum, looking at the ground. Your interests aren't nearly as exciting as theirs. Working one dead end job to the next, just trying to make ends meet. "Thinking tattooing, honestly." You add, looking up at them.

Sloane gasps, eyes widening. "That's so awesome though! I love tattoos, I've got at least four or five." They pull down the collar of their button down to reveal more of the flames tattooed across their neck. You'd be lying if you said you hadn't already noticed it. Wanting to see how far down it goes.

Quickly, you bat those thoughts away. Sticking to complimenting the line work and blocking of their tattoo. You ask what others they've got, and they explain all the patchwork they've got done on their arms. Some historical, some cool, some just to have a piece of the places they've been. They even mention a larger one on their thigh, a dinosaur skull with flowers. You try not to sound too interested in seeing them while asking if they have pictures. 

The conversation between you and Sloane runs smoothly, chattering about your lives and cracking jokes at one another's expense. The dancing at the party is now in full swing, guests of all types littering the dance floor. It's now completely dark outside, save for the lighting inside the venue. The lamps hanging from the ceiling are dimly glowing, the lanterns now back to their full glow. You even spot fireflies outside the venue, blinking on and off, flying into the wedding space and out. The place is truly beautiful.

The strumming of a bass fills the venue, an electronic guitar complimenting it perfectly. You recognize it instantly, as it's a song you've come to enjoy. Your new friend, Sloane, practically jumps out of their skin in excitement. They quickly whip their head to look at you while whisper shouting, "I love this song!!"

They bolt up, staring at the dance floor as both their feet hit the ground with a soft thud. They twirl their whole body around, looking at you with an outstretched hand, "Come dance with me??" They frantically blurt out.

You look dumbly at Sloane before slinking back into your chair a bit, cringing. "No no- I don't dance." While waving a hand in their direction dismissively. You're hesitant and it's obvious. The idea of getting in the middle of a bunch of people and dancing. God, not what you were made for.

You were telling the truth, you don't dance! Anyone seeing you attempt to dance may need an ambulance. Sloane slumps by your reaction, and pokes conversationally, "Aww c’monnn, pretty please? With cherries on top? One song?" They say, leaning backwards a bit on the heels of their feet while keeping their upper body forward. They begin pouting a lip out and sporting their best puppy dog eyes, hoping it'll help sway their case. 

Nervously, you rub your pointer finger across your thumb. This is not what I signed up for, you think as your lips form a line, eyes locking with Sloanes, trying to will yourself into saying no.

Damn.

You can't. You can't say no! You know you'd kick yourself later if you left without dancing with them. They're everything you like in someone, striking, funny, passionate... You internally groan, searching their dark eyes for a way out. Sadly, there isn't one. Their eyes only plead and beg.

And well... who are you to deny them?

Breathing in a deep, deep sigh, you fold, "Okayy. Okay." You say, holding both hands up, signaling defeat.

Sloane is about to shout out a glorious, loud YES before you cut them off with a finger up. "But first, a shot of liquid courage." You say, pushing yourself up from your chair, walking towards the end of the food table. There lay countless plastic shot glasses full of vodka. You pluck one from the rim of the platter.

Sloane watches as you down the drink, admiring the way your throat moves to swallow. They snort when they see you pulling a face.

"C'mon- c'mon- the song is already going." They bounce, having to fight the urge to just drag you onto the dance floor themself. Shaking your head, you wipe away the grimace on your face and discard the tiny shot glass into the nearby garbage.

They grab your hand and pull you into the crowd, though they seem somewhat aware of your aversion to it. So they lead you towards a less populated end of the floor, despite this, nearly everyone at the wedding was dancing. So you were still around a decent amount of people. They smile wide, looking off into the gaggle of party goers. You find it ironic this is the song you're dancing to, the lyrics playing loudly.

We've got nowhere to go

We've got nothing to prove

Instead of dancing alone

I should be dancing with you

The lyrics are slightly erotic, even, but you don't have much time to ponder it when they turn back to face you. They release your hand, before snapping their fingers in tune with the beat and swaying their hips. You giggle, your cheeks and stomach buzzing from the alcohol. Unfortunately for Sloane, you do not know how to dance. Not well at least, they laugh, watching you sway awkwardly. "You don't dance do you?" They ask, almost having to shout to be heard over the clamor of people and music.

"No, not really!" You reply, before admitting, "I don't wanna look dumb!" 

"Look dumb?! I'll show you dumb." They jest, backing up a bit to give themself some space. With their eyes locked onto yours, they bend their knees while bringing their right hand towards their head, palm open. They're walking towards you sideways, left hand swiping back and forth to their side and front. You about shit yourself, recoiling in shock and laughing. They continue though, bringing both hands up in fists towards their head, pumping them as they shake their hips, still approaching you. 

"What are you doing!!" You shout, cracking up at their absurdity. They finally pivot fully towards you, bending forward and moving their hands in circles. They finish off their charade with a performative strut your way, palms open in a dramatic walk. 

They laugh, grabbing one of your hands and pulling you further into the floor. "I'm dancing!! You should try it sometime!" They jive, sticking their tongue out. "I'm just saying, no one can look sillier than me!" You roll your eyes and shake your head. The smile never leaving your face.

They grab your other hand and start dancing for you, swaying you side to side. You can't help but giggle, letting them have their fun. You sway your hips and release their hands, moving yours back, snapping your fingers while doing circles and stepping side to side. Their grin widens and they yell, "Hell yeah! get it!!" Encouraging you. 

Smiling big, you continue attempting to dance with them. Sloane closes their eyes and lets themself feel the music, they move their feet expertly, and their arm movements intentionally. Seeing this makes you realize they definitely know how to dance. Your eyes explore them, their body and the way they move. It feels dirty watching them like this…But they invited you to dance, you think maybe they want you to watch them. Enjoy them, drink them up. 

It feels as though they've already wrapped you around their finger. You feel sadness bubble that the song is already ending. Luckily the next song that plays doesn't disappoint, more bass-y than the last. This one still just as popular as the day it released. 

You let yourself loosen, swaying your full body in rhythm with the bass as the song goes on. Sloane is looking at you again, and you daringly strut around them, stepping in beat with the drums. Alcohol does wonders for self esteem. They wait for you to come back around before stepping close, pulling you in by the hand. You raise an eyebrow, checking them with a grin, before gleefully walking back, shuffling your feet in tune with the music then pulling them towards you. They follow excitedly, their foot work impressive as they step towards you. They raise your held hand up as they approach and you twirl around to face them once more. Confidence runs through you at this point, letting go of the hand above you. You bring your free hand up quickly, placing it on their chest before grabbing their opposite hand. They're grinning so hard, pulling back, until your arms are taunt. Then jerking you towards them, you turn so your back hits their chest. Sloane has one hand around your front, hugging you just beneath your chest. The other holding your hip, their head resting next to yours. You both just sway now, enjoying each other's company and the music. "This okay?" They ask in your ear, the tone in their voice dropping low.

"Huh?" You say loudly, turning to face them. 

"I asked if this is okay!" They announced a little louder, and closer to your ear.

"Yeah!" You affirm happily, like this is the best day of your life. 

Do I wanna know?

If these feelings flow both ways.

Sad to see you go.

Sorta hoping that you'd stay.

Baby we both know.

That the nights were mainly made for sayin' things.

That you can't say tomorrow day.

Dancing with them like this, swaying side to side feels almost romantic. And you're having a really hard time ignoring that fact. That coupled with your already burning attraction has you dizzy. You could stay here forever. Another song passes by, and you both continue dancing with one another. At one point, you fumble through a waltz before they twirl and dip you. Despite having the time of your life, exhaustion was quickly catching up. Feeling a bit hot, and tired, holding both their hands, you turn around.

Looking up at Sloane, you truly get to admire their beauty. They've got beautiful curls, swooping and gentle. Their hair is natural, soft looking, and when you danced you could even smell their shampoo. Their eyes are a deep brown, rich like the dirt they so love digging through. You finally notice their eyebrow piercing as well, and you bite your lip. It suits them. You think. 

The longer you analyze their features, you wonder how the hell they're even real. How someone could look as perfect as them, be as charming as them. It nearly drives you mad. They smile a little, their eyes darting away. Their flushed cheeks grow a little redder at your prolonged staring. You smile a little, this is the first time you've seen them at least a little bashful. It's adorable.

The music is playing quietly now, seeing as most of the guests vacated the dance floor. Only a few stragglers are left, you included. So now you can properly talk to them.

"You know earlier... I wasn't exactly looking at the cupcakes…” You purse your lips, and squint your eyes, as if to will yourself to get the words out.

“I was staring at you." You chew your lip, looking away shyly. This confession could make or break this… whatever this is. You certainly don't wanna break it. While nervous, you had a feeling they would respond positively.

Their eyes snap back towards you, and they let themself smile, raising an eyebrow. "Ohhh, I'm that pretty, huh?" They tease.

You sigh and roll your eyes, they really are such a bastard. "Yeah yeah, whatever." You mutter, playfully pushing their shoulder. Not risking stroking their ego any further.

"No no, tell me, was it the bowtie?" They snicker, pushing their chest out a bit to really show it off. 

You shake your head, running your hands up from their own and readjusting their accessory. “Yes, it was the bowtie, all I wanted was you, bowtie.” You whisper at their chest, pulling the sides of the bow.

“Psh,” They chuckle, “Okay for real! What was it, huh?” They say, flashing their signature grin while raising their eyebrows suggestively. Perhaps telling them was a bad idea, you purse your lips again, realizing they'll bother you forever until you tell them. It seems like they're DYING to know.

You hum, dropping your head onto their chest. With one hand still on their chest, you let your other trail down their arm before grasping theirs, bringing it up towards you. Flipping it palm up, you let your free hand lightly touch their palm. "Your hands, I like them. I was looking at them." Dragging your fingers along their palm, you feel every callous and rough patch of skin. You turn them over to admire their nail polish and knuckles. You even start to massage in-between their fingers, just soaking up the fact that you can touch them like this, and they're allowing you to.

They seem to be at a loss for words, and you figure that doesn't happen too often. Smiling, you walk your fingers up their arm and to their shoulder to rest it there, bringing your other arm up to mirror it. Their hands come up to your waist and bring you close. While enjoying the embrace, you weren't expecting them to shake you and hug you in tightly. They groan into your shoulder, as if frustrated. You puff out a laugh at their weirdness. 

"Sorry- you're just so cute." They say, pulling back. "I just met you and you already got me in stitches." They admit, kicking the dirt by your feet. You figure instant attraction to a stranger is just as new to you as it is to them.

"Well..." You start, not even sure what to say. "We can… go back to my room? I'm staying at a hotel nearby. We can hang out, talk...see where it takes us?" Your voice raises at the end of your sentence, as if a little worried they'll say no. That's another lie, you were a LOT worried they'll say no, denying you any more of their time.

Your anxiety is evident as your eyes search their face for a clue, a glimmer of what they might say. Of what they could be thinking. 

Sloane looks at you with tenderness. Such sweetness you could melt. They bring a hand up to cup the side of your face, rubbing their thumb across it. "I'd like that." They say, their voice seems to tighten as if they're both excited and nervous about the proposition.

Yeah, usually parties suck. But this one? This one was amazing.

#i proof read this like 2983 times and so did my bf and then also another friend so if theres a typo im sorry im stupid #venture x reader #sloane cameron #sloan cameron #overwatch #self insert #overwatch 2 #venture overwatch #great googily moogily that thang is juicey #crazy i wrote a fanfiction #also the songs are out of control by she wants revenge and then do i wanna know by arctic monkeys

[screamingatanemptyroom]

The Healer Pt 4

The story continues. I'm still enjoying this one, so we'll keep going!

Part 1 / 2 / 3 linked here. (If I get to 5+ parts I'll make a master post)

Enjoy!

___________________________

ONE YEAR EARLIER

“Natalie! You’re here!”

Jack shouted with excitement when he saw me. Garrett and Rita trailed behind him, their expressions happy, if a bit mild and unenthused. I was still sitting on the ground, catching my breath after my first battle in this strange world. The corpses of the monster flowers had faded into the grass, leaving little evidence of my fight behind. I waved to them, feeling a strong sense of relief in seeing familiar faces.

The three of them had been my teammates in Fantasy Realm, even if they weren’t the kindest people I had ever known. While playing together they were often inpatient with me, unforgiving of mistakes, and constantly pushing me to spend more time and money improving my character when they knew I had very little of both. I had always given in, and disliked myself for doing so, hoping it would improve their opinion of me, knowing deep down it wouldn’t. I might call them friends… and I would be shocked if they called me the same.  But after waking up in this weird real world of the game, I was just happy to know anyone at all.

I was afraid to be alone.

The group reached me, and with a grin, Jack reached out and helped me to my feet. I brushed the dust off of myself and looked them over. They all looked like they had in our old world, the only difference was their clothing. Jack was dressed in leather armor, reinforced my metal along the chest and back. Garrett had a large sword strapped across his back, with scant coverings over the rest of his enormous frame. Rita had a simple cloth robe and a large wooden bow.

“We all chose our familiar classes.” Jack saw my studying look and informed me. “Seemed the safest thing to do given that we don’t know what happens if you die in here.”

Rita rolled her eyes. “I can’t believe you guys are taking this seriously! This can’t be real. We're still in the game! It’s just some hoax, someone hacked the game. Eventually my dad will tear the VR company apart, sue them into oblivion and then we’ll be let out!”

I paused at that. “We weren’t playing the game when this happened though.”

“We just forgot.” She answered forcefully, her gaze annoyed as usual as she met my own.

Rita had always disliked me. Our parents knew each other, her father was a well-known lawyer who had pushed her to follow in his footsteps. As someone who had struggled with the weight of parents’ expectations, I sympathized. But she had quit law school after a week, turning to full time gaming instead. She didn’t do well enough to make any money, but fortunately her mother paid her bills.

Her father was disapproving to say the least. He apparently used me as an example to her of someone successfully “taking over the family business,” never mind that I hated the pressure, resented my parents’ strict expectations and escaped whenever possible. It didn’t matter. Rita despised me, and no attempts from myself or from Jack could smooth the rift between us.

Garrett looked me over from head to toe, confused. “You don’t have a weapon.”

I froze at his words. Garrett had a large sword, obviously a barbarian type class. Jack had a one-handed sword, a fighter or swordsman. Rita was an archer with her bow. But me…

There was only was class in the game that couldn’t use weapons.

“No…” Rita started laughing, so hard that tears were forming in her eyes. “No… you DIDN’T do something so STUPID….!”

Garrett was shaking his head, frowning disapprovingly. I ignored them, my entire attention was on Jack. We had been friends since freshman year of college. He had helped me find my first class, I tutored him in chemistry. We had supported each other through ups and downs, told each other about our fears and dreams…  

And he was looking at me with hatred in his eyes.

“You are a Healer.” His voice was quiet, but the lack of emotion in his tone made my hackles raise. I started to back away.

“Jack… I…”

His hand gripped my throat, and I was lifted off the ground. I gasped, unable to get air, and struggled against him, but with a strength stat of -10 I knew there wasn’t much hope. I wouldn’t be able to cast my healing spells either, without being able to speak the activation word.

I need to be able to cast without speaking. My brain focused on that, almost desperately avoiding dealing with the situation I was currently in: My friend was killing me.

**The Healer enters an early hypoxic state - 10 damage for each second that airway compression remains in place. **

**The Healer takes 10 damage. **

I had only seconds to live.

** The Healer takes 10 damage**

I grabbed his hand, focusing all my desperation into the need to cast my only spell: Small Incision.

** Through sheer force of will, The Healer has discovered Wordless Incantation**

**The Healer casts Small Incision. Jack the Hero takes 1 damage.**

As the messages floated across my vision, Jack yelped in pain, clutching his bleeding hand, dropping me to the ground. I laid still for a few moments, focusing on breathing, the pain of my neck and in my lungs a reminder of what had just occurred. I stared up at Jack, hoping to see remorse on his face.

There was nothing but rage.

“How DARE you pick a useless class like healer?” He snarled, holding pressure on his hand to stop the bleeding while staring down at me. “Our lives could depend on doing well in this game, and you seriously chose a class with minimal fighting potential, whose healing abilities are worse than any potion that can be purchased in a shop?”

He stepped closer, and I flinched back, my heart beating wildly. “You are so obsessed with your parents’ disapproval, that even in a life-or-death situation you had to pick being a doctor? Are you really so messed up?”

I opened my mouth to explain. I knew this class well, the strengths and weaknesses. I could use it to the team’s benefit. I had been a good teammate, one of the reasons we had placed so highly in the last tournament. I wanted to say all this and more.

But as I stared into the disappointment in his eyes, I felt myself slipping into old habits. Of staying quiet and nodding. Of keeping the peace and letting myself take the blame. I hated it, despised myself for it… but kept silent all the same.

“Should we just leave her behind?” Rita asked, giving no concern to me as I struggled to catch my breath after Jack’s strangling attempt. “She’s useless after all.”

“She used to provide good support.” Garrett spoke up. “We can keep her on the team until we find someone more useful…”

“I am not giving a spot on our team to a healer.” Jack closed his eyes and rubbed his temples for a moment, as if trying to calm himself down. Finally, he looked down at me coldly. “You can tag along with our team, without an official spot. You will do your best to be useful. Otherwise, we will leave you to die.”

Leave them! My heart screamed at me. Being alone is better than this! You didn’t commit some great sin by becoming a Healer! You just chose the best you could! Tell them!

Slowly, I nodded. “Fine.” My voice was still hoarse from the pressure he had placed on my throat. I adjusted my tone with the ease and familiarity of practice. “I’ll follow along.” I pushed the screaming voice in my head back, along with my pride. I knew I was worthless, a failure. I had been told that every day by the two people on the planet who were supposed to love me the most. Jack was only the latest person to say it out loud.

This was what I deserved.

The first month passed quickly. We went on multiple quests together, and settled into a comfortable rhythm. Jack would take the lead, with Garrett beside him to tank. Rita picked off far away opponents, and supported from the back. And I…

I did everything I could.

Outside of fights, I was cooking, keeping inventory, asking for quest information, and keeping the gear repaired and functional. Many nights I stayed up late, sharpening swords or repairing gear, only to have my hard work receive a nod and no other recognition.

In fights, I demanded even more of myself. Slipping in between enemies, causing damage. I delved down most of the “surgical” pathway of the healer ability, which allowed me to cause a diverse array of damage. I built up my MP until I could activate Wordless Incantation, as I found the group's irritation was a lot less if they couldn’t hear me. I immobilized enemies and allowed the others to finish them off. Because I had a hand in almost every single enemy’s death, I received a good amount of XP and fame from each fight, which angered Jack to no end.

“Stop stealing our experience!” He snapped after a fight, reading the notification that stated the rewards and experience given out.

“You asked me to immobilize them.” I answered quietly, feeling tired. “Do you want me to stop?”

“…” He glared at me silently for a few moments before answering. “Figure out a way to do it without taking my XP.”

“…sure.”

“I mean it, Healer.” From the moment he heard my class, he had never called me by my name. Our friendship, the time we had spent together… none of it meant anything next to the weight of the one undeniable fact:

I was a Healer. And therefore, in his eyes, I was a burden.

I kept my head down, trying to help out as much as possible. I learned not to ask for recognition. To not expect thanks. And I thought things would never change.

And then came the day we met Winter.

________________

PRESENT DAY

“Ouch!” Stephanie yelped as I carefully placed the needle through her skin, placing a simple suture across the wound on her calf. I didn’t hesitate with her cry of pain, tying the knot and moving on to the next stitch.

“The area has been numbed with magic, don’t pretend it hurts.”

“Yeah, I was just messing with you.” Stephanie laughed stuck her tongue out. “How did you know?”

“Because I know how it feels to sew my wounds shut without the local anesthesia spell.” I kept working without looking up. “You wouldn’t just be saying ‘ouch.’”  

“Uh…Well, thank you.”

I felt surprised at her words. After a year with the Hero’s party, I was so used to doing things without any gratitude or recognition. You’re not with them anymore. I let out a mental sigh of relief at the thought, and smiled at Stephanie. “You’re welcome.”

“YOU SMILED!” Stephanie tried to get up to hug me, but Alton reached over from where he was sewing cloth nearby and pushed her back down, shaking his head with a grin.

“Don’t interrupt her work.” Winter’s response was much colder, causing Stephanie to freeze in place.

“I’m on the last one anyways.” I squared off the last knot on the suture, cutting the tails and placing a clean bandage over my work. “Keep it dry for 48 hours, and then you can remove the outer covering and bathe.”

“Not to cheapen all the work you just put into repairing this cut for me…” Stephanie hesitated. “But wouldn’t a healing potion be easier?”

Alton shook his head, but before he could say anything Winter spoke up. “Stupid human.”

“HEY! I’m not stupid!” She glanced at me. “Right?”

“No, you’re not.” Raising an eyebrow at Winter, who settled down with a grunt, I continued. “Have you noticed that over time you’ve had to use more powerful healing potions?”

She thought that over. “Well, yeah, but… I’m higher level, and have more HP… Isn’t that normal?”

“Have you tried to use a basic potion recently?” I pulled one out, and tossed it to her. “Here.”

Stephanie caught it, clearly confused. “I’m only missing 5 HP… I don’t need something that heals 10…”

“Try it.”

“Okay.” She shrugged. “If you insist…” She drank the potion quickly, and then flinched at the notification. “…It didn’t work? … Not even the cut healed.” 

Alton continued to sew, but spoke up. “The more you use healing potions, the less they work. Fortunately, this seems limited to healing potions… mana recovery and other types of potions such as detoxification seem to not develop the same resistance. It’s also a slow process, but it’s becoming a universal issue. If you check the world chat this is a heated topic of discussion. Most people believe the that it’s related to level… but that’s not the case.”

“How do you know that?”

“They still work on me.” I answered quietly. “That’s why I carry the basic ones around.”

“Foolish humans… these potions were meant for true lifesaving emergencies… a basic healing potion should be enough to recover up to 50% of your health… but you drink them like water until they are worthless to you.” Winter sighed, looking over at me with a small smile. “That is why the Healers are such a vital class. In a world of constant danger and battle, of destruction and pain, only they have the power to heal and preserve. They are a noble, selfless light that protects those around them… someone to be protected at all costs. There should be a Healer in every party… but instead Nat is the only one left.”

“You did save me before!” Stephanie did get up unobstructed and hugged me. “Thank you!”

“And me.” Winter added, staring at the ground. “She saved me as well.”

“Hey, I distinctly remember passing out in front of her and being saved too, guys!” Alton spoke up, tying up his thread and checking the repair on his cape before looking at me. “I guess we are all indebted to you.”

I stared at all of them, feeling disturbed in my heart. “You guys… I’m…”

I’m worthless. Weak. And my weakness was used to destroy countless lives.

“… Thank you.” I silenced the words in my heart, and spoke a simple thanks instead.

“…” Winter was staring. I always felt he could see more than I wanted him too, as if my hidden thoughts and feelings were on display in front of him. But instead of commenting, he simply bent down, plucking a blue flower from the ground, and handed it to me.

“That’s so cute!” Stephanie clapped her hands, before freezing. “Wait! Are you two…?”

Alton paused in packing up his things and stared in our direction.

I shook my head silently at her before turning back to Winter. “Thank you. The mountain wild flower’s petals have strong anti-inflammatory properties. I’ll dry it out and process it for medication at our next stop." I pressed the flower carefully in one of my books and packed it away.

Winter nodded at my words. “You’re welcome.”

“It’s for medicine?” Stephanie frowned, disappointed. “Well, that’s boring. Where’s my drama?!”

Alton smiled widely. “Oh, don’t worry, I got your drama! Look in the world chat!”

Pausing, all of us pulled up the chat, excluding Winter, who leaned on a tree nearby and watched the display over my shoulder. The top topic in the chat was skyrocketing with engagement… and seeing the title it wasn’t hard to understand why:

___________________________

“TROUBLE IN PARADISE? HERO’S PARTY SEEN ARGUING WITH NEW MEMBER REBECCA THE SORCERESS! IS THE USELESS HEALER MISSED?”

There was great discussion today among players as a loud disagreement broke out among the Hero’s Party after their last quest line. Although it is unknown the exact nature of it, it seems to be surrounding the recent addition to the party.  Rebecca the Sorceress is the newest member of the Hero’s Party after the departure of the much-despised Healer. Many had cheered her arrival, as well as supporting the apparent budding relationship between the Hero and his new magical lady.

___________________________

“And you guys ask why I think humans are stupid.” Winter muttered as he read along with me. I shushed him and continued on with the post.

___________________________

But is there a fracture in the once iron-strong team? Words such as “Useless,” “Hiding” and “Potion sponge” were heard shouted by Rita the Holy Archer, with the Hero defending and Garrett the Giant siding beside Rita. Rebecca appeared to be in tears. Is this bullying the newcomer? Is Rebecca actually dragging the team down? What does this mean for the plans to attack the forty second gate in a few days?

Discuss your thoughts below!

___________________________

I sighed and closed the chat, seeing that comments were mostly just going back and forth over the juicy gossip. “What a mess.”

“You don’t sound surprised.” Alton commented with a grin.

“No. I’m not. Rebecca… she’s…”

“Useless?” Stephanie interjected.

“Full of tears and excuses?” Was Alton’s contribution.

“A snake who poisons those foolish enough to trust it.” Winter quietly added.

I laughed. “… I was going to say she’s a lot of drama… but I like your answers better. They are used to a certain standard of having everything done for them, even if I backed off quite a bit towards the end, when things had gotten really bad. I don’t think Rebecca will see my role within the group as appealing, though.”

“Oh well, their loss is our gain!” Stephanie cheered, hugging me again. “Let’s go hunting! I want meat for dinner!” She pulled out her sword excitedly.

“Yes, Natalie should have some meat to help her recover from all the battles we’ve been through.” Winter nodded, checking his bow and following.

Alton stood up and looked over at me. “Meat for dinner doesn’t sound bad… what do you think, Ms. Healer? Do you want to go hunting?”

“I don’t want to ruin their fun…” I started to say, looking at the backs of the two already moving ahead.

Alton’s voice was serious. “No. I’m not asking about them. I’m asking what YOU want to do.”

I paused, and my gaze met his own. After a few moments, I smiled. “Meat sounds great for dinner.” And I meant it.

“Then let’s go hunting with them.”  Was his answer.

And hunting we went.

With only two days left before we would face the forty-second gate.

#writing #fantasy #the healer #violence #magic #video game like world #betrayal #friends

[flowerwrites06]

plucked blossom — myg (teaser)

PLUCKED BLOSSOM | Yoongi | Oneshot | Request or Original 

Original Request: Arranged marriage au?? E2L?? They were enemies but yoongi finding out she was just a hurt precious soul. Ending up with Yoongi being protective of oc Plot: Two nobles are rushed into marriage and struggle to navigate the pressures of the court. Pairing: Noble!Yoongi x Noble!OC (Name: Kiku). Genre: Historical AU. Rating: R18+ Word Count: 500+ (teaser wc) Warnings: coarse language, angst, sexual content, marriage troubles. Author’s Note: sorry for the wait, friends, here's a teaser for an upcoming fic!

“This is the third ball you’ve refused to attend,” Yoongi said as two servants placed a white box onto the bed.

Kiku only glanced at the object before going back to her embroidery, still working on the same daffodil which was already fraying from her lack of focus. “I told you I wasn’t in the mood.”

Yoongi lets out another frustrated sigh, his white sleeves rolled up by the afternoon and his patience thinned as he placed his hands on his hips. “Eventually we need to become public.”

“We have become public, we had a wedding so big, the money could’ve fed the entire country.” The two servants quickly walked out of the room, wanting to avoid what was the fifth argument they’ve had.

“Oh you’re a pure, giving soul now?”

Kiku rolled her eyes, stabbing the fabric again for the next stitch. “If you want to go to the ball so bad, why don’t you just go by yourself?”

Yoongi shook her head. “That’s not a good look.”

“Why not? So many men there attend a ball only to fuck some other noblewoman in the garden.” She raised her eyes to glare at him directly. “At least you’ll be honest with yourself.”

Frustration laced his gaze. “I don’t go there to fuck some random person, it’s just tradition.”

“Well, I’m not going.”

Yoongi cleared his throat, clearly to gather whatever saintly patience that was hanging by a threat. With another deep breath, he walked to the box and opened it to reveal a beautiful pale blue dress, transparent outer kaftan with a silk white inner dress. “I brought you a new dress. It’s your favourite colour.”

Kiku looked at the dazzling delicate silver embroidery at the edges, just the way she preferred it. “Did you go to consult my brother to find out?”

“No, your brother thought it was yellow.”

Kiku’s brows furrowed. “Of course he did.”

The tension between them slowly cooled as it always did. Something about Yoongi’s seemingly endless way of handling her quips and her own demeanour becoming gentle caused their arguments to end swiftly. Granted, they were still frequent but it was shorter everytime.

In a softer voice, Yoongi spoke. “Just one night a month, I’d like you to come public with me.”

“I don’t have good relationships with the court members,” Kiku said empathetically.

“Then ignore them, just come.”

“Why’re you being so insistent? You were never like this before.” Kiku crossed her arms over her chest. “You have been talking to my brother, haven’t you?”

“He…we think that the people might be whispering certain things.” Yoongi waved his hand.

Anger flared in her chest. Of course the court started muttering poisonous rumours. Everytime someone wanted some alone time to actually think about their life for once, they wanted to punish those people. Because it meant too much honesty in a world so used to pretty lies. “They whisper a lot of things, what is it this time?”

“They think you might’ve gone mad.” Yoongi didn’t waste breath saying this, as if he had already convinced himself of it.

Kiku chuckled, putting her embroidery away and walking to look at the window. “What delightful conversations you and my brother have about me.” 

masterlist

#yoongi #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts angst #bts smut #bts imagines #yoongi fanfic #yoongi imagines

[ingeniouscollectionthing]

Sneak Peek: my Soul is yours (Tom Riddle x Reader)

Little Trailer for my new ideas, i have no idea where this will go lmao.

Pairing: Tom Riddle x Reader

Warnings: dirty fanfiction in future parts, Soulmate AU, kinda evil but alternate Tom

Tom Marvolo Riddle. A name written into the skin of your left wrist. A pretty, cursive handwriting in pitch black ink, which seemed to mock you everytime you looked at it. The name of your soulmate, the one person in this whole world you were made to spend your life with, to whom your soul is bound. Pitty you have no idea who this Tom is.

You, pureblooded, beautiful (Y/N), just returned home after attending your sixth year at hogwarts, school of witchcraft and wizardry. Though the orphanage you were abandoned at is just a pathetic excuse not worthy of being called home at all, really. You dreaded this place almost as much as mudbloods defiling magical blood. You dreaded the fact there was no way to escape all those filthy, annoying and screaming muggle children. Not yet at least. 

You’d kill all of them - in the blink of an eye, if you could.

Closing the door, you look around the old, shitty bedroom who held many occupants before you. The oak closet on the wall was dull, losing it‘s shiny outer layer gradually.

Walking over to the window you could see the old postcard pinned beside it on the ugly greenish tiles ever since you were here. You figured someone before you must have put it here.. and never bothered to take it down. It was a picture of some kind of cave amidst clashing waves.

And as always, you felt a gentle pull from it. And as always your fingers glide over it all the same.

You knew in your heart it was the only link, the only clue left of your soulmate in this timeline.

#tom riddle #tom riddle imagines #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle x you #tom riddle fluff #tom riddle smut #lord voldemort #young voldemort x reader

[porlatamconlouis]

louis in panamá! louis back in latam!!! louis is back in his spirit home!!!

the crowd was amaaaazing! listen, every louis show i've been to holds a special place in my heart for different reasons. but being in a crowd where everyone around you gives out the same energy, even when they don't fully know some songs, is something i've been craving for a long time now, and it's just the beginning and i'm sooo excited. the venue itself was kinda meh inside, the way they used the space was terrible in my opinion but as a brightside, gaby and i had lots of space to jump and dance and lose our entire minds.

the setlist order change threw us off, but god i love it. the 'chemical' cover... idk how to explain it but the videos i've seen so far (which haven't been many, i'm on wifi most of the time) don't do it one bit of justice. his voice! his voooooooice! that's all i kept saying throughout the song. because i didn't know the song, and the arrangement was so punk that i thought it was a song from an early 2000s pop punk band that i wasn't recognizing. but duuuude, his voice. i hope we get a good version, because that boi whined away with his whole chest... honestly. and i can't fucking wait to see how more and more comfortable he'll get with the song and more people singing it with him, and just... yeah!

oli, krystle and helen were in the open space where there were no chairs, right in front of us... oli walks to not draw attention to himself, but boi, most of us know you by now. i didn't see anybody coming up to them which was nice. they went to the sound booth for a big chunk of the show. and during ooms krys and helen came back to jump and dance to the side there. i loved seeing them like that!

the happiness we felt when we saw lucia coming down! gaby and i were jumping up and down screaming "lucia! lucia is back! lucia!", hajshajshs. and theeeen, at the end, as i always do if possible, we went to the soundbooth to thank my friends (jdelf, tom and oli c.) for the show, and we thanked them for bringing lucia (the lightbulb) and not leaving her behind, and they were amused (and probably a bit weirded out (they've seen me in the same shirt at least 4 times lmao)) and saying thank you for appreciating them and just yeah. i like to think maybe they already knew her name was lucia, but also, i'm glad someone on the ground straight up told them how fucking appreciated she is. 💚 look at herrrr! (lol)

living all my favorite songs live again was so cathartic. didn't know how much i needed it, wow. also, how are we gonna call that insane set of songs before the encore? my vote is for "rip steve's arms" or "no breathing mix" or "lose your shit time". because going from 505 to bty to kmm to ooms is fucking wild, man. it was absolutely incredible, i think i ascended a little bit and was fully exorcised, thanks.

oh! the kmm lights? soooo good! i know they've been done at all the shows after '22 but like... idk. it felt a bit extra special? and he sensed it as well, he couldn't contain his little smiles. and he gave it a shout out. literally everyone knew they had to do it. so cool!

as a sad note, during sibwawc, the lights from the stage weren't really colourful, they just kinda went from orange to white from what i remember. gaby and i waved our flags for the entirety of the megamix (and a bunch of other songs too, hajshajs, duh) and since we were going off the whole time, and not as many people were, he did see us all the way to the back and pointed at where we were and we looked at each other and just kept going. we then corroborated our stories in the hostal, hajdhaj. enjoy the following video as if you were next to us and just jumping around, okay thanks (when you see everyone else jump around that's when he comes to our side).

anyway, i wrote all of this while on the airplane that's gonna take me to puerto rico, which is a bit delayed. oh, and el puma rodríguez is on this flight, lmao. iykyk. some ladies, while boarding, just stood in front of him and took a selfie, eeep. right, here's some carpet photos.

i'm so lucky i get to do this insane adventure, i'm so happy.

(meant to save this in drafts while the video uploaded but guess it got posted instead, hajshajsh. anywaaaay... thanks for the lovely notes, loves.)

#jules blah blah #show ciudad de panamá

[dr9com9ge-ix]

Hiya! Tis been a bit since I took it easy for my birthday a few days ago! (slept so much and ate cheesecake and passed out) Soooo I wanted to make an ID for Erik that was this specific hot pink and couldn’t think of anything else aside from making a color fixer! Wee bit of story and about them under the cut!

March 15th 980,

In the backstreet town of Hamelin, the streets where run rampant with crime and violence. Today would seem to be the same as any other until suddenly a melody played and lured in members of the local gang.

Then came the long shrill sound of a horn when the music stopped, Even at a far distance it hurt to listen to but what happened to the crowd was worse than just a headache- The sound had made their heads explode! And stood in the midst of the bodies was a young fellow in pink lowering the horn. Naturally the folks who witnessed this where terrified- But the kid just smiled and waved.

“All done! They won’t bother you guys anymore!~”

And thus the town was much safer… Albeit shaken up by the mass amount of death that had occurred. This piper would introduce themself as “Letze” and soon after word spread of this incident and of other similar ones. Eventually Letze would be let into a nest alongside their family who had run the formerly unknown Parade workshop.

And that is the tale of the color fixer, The Pink Piper.

Fun facts!

- Letze uses They/them pronouns.

- They are based on the pied piper of Hamelin!

- The pink colors of their outfit and weapon are entirely their idea as pink is their favorite color.

- They are deaf but have a hearing aid integrated into their prosthetics. They also turn it off when they do not want to be bothered.

- Their expressions (at least with their eyes) kind of work like how cats do- Squinty eyes when happy and big eyes and pupils when they’re about to attack.

- The Parade workshop is responsible for Letze’s prosthetics and the creation of the horn

- Letze is the youngest out of 3 adopted siblings with similar yet more crude prosthetics.

- They are very relaxed outside of their job and likes to paint and watch movies and plays in theaters. Also no thoughts half the time they’re just enjoying the downtime before they’re sent to do more work.

- While they do like the horn’s sound they prefer to listen to rock.

- The horn is for work use only.

#artists on tumblr #digital art #oc #limbus company #limbus oc #project moon oc #project moon #pied piper #Lezte The Pink Piper #color fixer #Lore dump below cut

[kitas-cleaning-supplies]

Kiyoomi scrunches her nose. She’ll never get Motoya’s obsession with plants. It was fine when it was just succulents, those are easy enough to take care of, but flowers fucking reek. It’s not a bad smell per say, but it’s stupidly strong in this shop, even with her mask up.

They’re pretty at least, she’ll give them that.

She’s debating between the pretty blue flowers and the silly, warm yellow ones. Motoya should have never trusted her judgment, how’s she supposed to resist the urge to tease her for always being in a yellow coloured team? At least Kiyoomi can say she’s escaped it in the Black Jackals cause gold isn’t yellow.

“Is there anythin’ I can help you with?” A pretty blonde girl in a red apron asks. Kiyoomi nearly jumps out of her skin, where’d she come from?

“Um, can I get these?” Kiyoomi points at the two, ready to bolt out of here because Employee Girl is way too gorgeous for her to not make a fool out of herself. Her palms are sweaty and she’s so grateful her mask is covering half her face.

The girl leans in way too close to Kiyoomi’s space and reads the labels, “Cornflower and fressia? I can put them together for you but d’you wanna check out the white freesia’s instead? They’d be real pretty together.”

“Yeah, sure.” Kiyoomi could be asked for her credit card information right now and she’d hand it over no questions asked. What did she ask her for again?

“Great, they’re over this way.” Employee Girl walks away and what else is Kiyoomi supposed to do but follow?

The flowers they stop at all look the same to Kiyoomi but she holds her breath as the girl talks about a few different ones, pointing them out and saying stuff about how pretty things look prettier together. Her name tag reads “Miya O.” A pretty name for a pretty girl. She wonders what the O stands for.

“That sound good?”

Kiyoomi nods, Miya’s voice sounds great in fact.

“Well you’re in luck! We finished our orders for today so I can put it together for ya right now but please submit a request a few days in advance next time. We’re pretty busy during the afternoon so ya picked a decent time to come in.”

Miya picks a few different flowers and the blue ones from before – the cornflowers – and heads to the back. Kiyoomi wants to protest but she’s just a customer and Miya’s an employee doing her job.

Miya peeps her head out after closing the door. She bites her lip before calling out, “Can I ask ya for a favour?”

“Uh, sure.”

“If ya see a girl with my face try an’ clock in, tell her she’s s’pposed to be in bed right now. My sister’s a bit of a workaholic, I stole her name tag this mornin’ for her own good.”

She assumes Miya means that she’s a twin but that’s not fair to her at all. She’s just a girl. Kiyoomi only hopes she won’t have to see the two of them together. One pretty girl’s bad enough for her heart as is.

The time passes by in a blur. At one point she’s keeping a vague eye out for Miya’s clone to walk in while looking at the different flowers; the next she’s being given her bouquet, paying for it, and waving bye to the prettiest girl in the world.

Oh well, it’s not like she’s the main character in a yuri manga.

Kiyoomi drops off the flowers at Motoya’s. She’s supposedly too busy taking care of her sick girlfriends to make the trip herself. Kiyoomi wonders if that excuse is just bullshit since it’s been months and she’s still not met Osamu and Rin yet. Unfortunately, Motoya’s apartment’s stuffy and reeks of sickness so maybe there’s some truth to Motoya’s words.

Maybe.

“You got the flowers?” Motoya closes her room door behind her, thankfully right before a loud sneeze is released by one of her definitely real girlfriends. Well there goes that bet Kiyoomi had going with Yachi.

“Yeah, I still don’t get why you can’t have a normal hobby. These things die in like, a week.”

Motoya fusses over the flowers for a bit, making them nice and pretty in a clean vase that held her last bouquet. “One, Samu gets all blushy when I give her flowers and two, I just like them. It’s low stakes responsibility that forces me to have my shit together.”

Kiyoomi snorts. Motoya’s always had her shit together, even if it looks like a mess on the outside. Her cousin is one of the most ruthlessly competent people she knows.

“Hey Kiyo, where’d you get these by the way?” Motoya asks cutting the store tag off a stem.

“Doesn’t it say there?” Kiyoomi asks. “Miya’s Boutique I think.”

“Well whichever employee rang you up left you a little something.” Motoya tosses the label to her with a smug little smirk.

Kiyoomi wants to shove her hand into her face to wipe it off but Motoya would lick her first and she doesn’t want to think about where her tongue’s been, sick partners or not.

She takes a look at the what Motoya meant and pretends like the name and numbers aren’t sending a rush of blood straight to her face. She carefully tucks it into a pocket while maintaining eye contact with her menace of a cousin. Motoya can smell the smallest twinge of embarrassment in a crowd and she is not to be trusted to mind her own business.

She laughs at nothing, like the airhead Kiyoomi’s always known her to be, but there’s something unsettling in the knowing glint in her eyes. Kiyoomi firmly ignores it: if it isn’t acknowledged, it isn’t real.

“Oh this is killing me, Kiyo you’ve gotta come over next week. Please I think I’ll die.” Motoya abandons her flowers in favour of hanging off of her arm and giving her stupid puppy eyes. “You can bring whoever left you their number. Actually, please bring them, you’ve gotta.”

Fuck, how’s Kiyoomi supposed to say no to her puppy eyes.

“Fine, but fat chance I bring her over.”

Motoya sniffs hautily, like Kiyoomi’s doing her a great disservice. “You’ll regret it.”

“Doubt it,” Kiyoomi sighs, hoping future-her doesn’t give in to Motoya’s ridiculous demands.

She leaves with a halfhearted wave, feeling preemptive disappointment in herself because she knows Motoya’s not going to let her go so easily. Whatever. She’s got better things to spend her energy on.

How many i's in a “hi” is too desperate to send?

#woaw i called atsumu pretty so many times. i had to replace a few w other words but you alr know femtsumu's the prettiesttt #anyways she's neither a msby member or an official employee of miya's boutique but a secret third thing !! #also she 100% lied abt orders for the day being done and rushed to finish everything she had left lol. she's equally down bad ehehe #toya's gonna have a laugh when omi walks in w atsumu hanging off her while snos and skts have a spiderman meme moment #alright those tags out of the way #HAPPY BIRTHDAY GAIA MY BELOVEDD #woke up saw it was your birthday and wrote this for you my fellow fem skts lover <33 #it's absolute nonsense plot-wise but since it's me writing it. it's cute and incredible and everything ever :D #also if there's mistakes here shh. i was editing while watching suna beeing yeeted and omi get kidnapped on [ ]'s stream on the server #okay real tags: #haikyuu #haikyuu fic #miya atsumu #sakusa kiyoomi #sakuatsu #maz writes #my fic

[that-sarcastic-writer]

Heartless

Takeshi Kovacs X F!Reader

Summary: you get hurt, and all you want is for Takeshi to comfort you

Warnings: explicit sexual content, minors dni, unprotected sex, p in v, fingering, multiple orgasms, hair pulling, choking, praising, bit of soft!dom!Tak, creampie, explicit language, mentions of murder, blood, typical violence for this show

WC: 4.5k

A/N: please I know, lia you wrote something??? Ik, fucking wild. Its been like 6months lmao. But I was rewatching altered carbon and man I really missed tak. I might slowly dive back into my joel era but for now this is this. I dedicate this to @a-reader-and-a-writer. If this flops oh well, at least I was happy writing it.

You often regretted your life choices. Stupid decisions you made as a teenager that ultimately led you into a world of violence and death. It seemed never ending. Because no matter how many times you tried to go straight, use your skills and intelligence for something good, your reputation always preceded you, and you would end up in the same place; with a gun in your hand, covered in blood, and with another body to add to your conscience. Though, ninety percent of the time it wasn't your fault. Just like this time it was not your fault. Trouble just seemed to find you. Or you liked to find trouble, or maybe both. 

“Ah Miss, what a pleasant surprise.” The AI that was this lovely hotel greeted you. “Oh. It appears that you are injured. Do you require medical assistance?” 

You looked down at your blood stained clothes and hands, you felt the slightest throb on your shoulder from where a bullet had grazed you, and the stinging burn on your side from where a switchblade slashed at your skin. But to be completely honest you had grown numb to it. You simply shrugged. 

“Nope. Just need a shower and some tequila.” You waved him off and you walked straight to the elevator, but before you entered, you turned around in your tracks to narrow your eyes at Poe. “Where is Takeshi?”

“Ah, Mr. Kovacs is not here at the moment. He left some hours ago to attend to some private matters he didn't disclose with me.” He answered plainly and you nodded. 

“Shocker. Well if he comes, don't tell him I'm here? Cool? Great.” You were about to go up to the room you used whenever you and Takeshi were fighting, when Poe spoke again. 

“Why is that? Wouldn't he like to know you are injured?” 

“Oh fuck, no. Don't even tell him you saw me like this.”  

Takeshi would go absolutely mad if someone spoke to you the wrong way. You still remember one time you joined him on one of his interrogations, for one reason or another. The man wouldn't keep his eyes off you, though you paid it no mind, you were used to men being nothing short of disgusting, or them calling you every sexual name in the book. But Takeshi? Man, pissed was nothing to describe the level of anger going through him. He didn't stop until the man was nothing but red. You, of course, while amused by his protectiveness of you, got him to stop. 

“Tak, sweetheart, you need him conscious and breathing, don't you think?” 

“He won't be doing much of either anymore.” 

Takeshi was cute when he was angry, more so when he was overprotective of you. But even then, there were some lines you never wanted to cross. And if he ever saw you like this, the thought of someone hurting you like this would drive him mad. No stack would be left unharmed by him if he had any say in the matter. 

So for the sake of the men you did leave alive, it would be best if Tak didn't see you like this. 

“Well, why not?” Poe pushed, clearly he didn't understand the level of insanity Takeshi was capable of reaching. 

“Because, if Tak sees me like this, he is not going to be very happy. He is going to actually cut somebody's head off—Again. Actually no, scratch that, he is going to decapitate and destack a lot of somebody's,” You said as slowly and as clearly as you possibly could, pausing to stare at the hologram as if to make a point. “So do not tell Takeshi I'm here, or that you saw me like this.” 

So much for wanting to stay out of trouble for once. 

~~~~~~

Man what a fucking shitshow. Truly, he didn't understand when the world had gotten so damn complicated. He didn't like to leave messes, he really didn't, but sometimes people would just force his hand, he had to get answers one way or another. 

He should call you. Yes. He should do that. If there was one thing in this fucked up reality of his that he knew would never go wrong, it was seeing you. 

“Mr. Kovacs,” Poe appeared at the bar, getting Takeshi's attention, but he didn't even bother to look. “I was not expecting to see you tonight. Were you able to attend to your matters?” 

“Yeah.” Was all he responded to as he walked towards the elevator. His eyes were glued to the ground as a cigarette hung from his lips, he was tired and annoyed, frustrated and even more tired, but something caught his attention as he thought about his own self misery. 

Blood. 

“Why is there blood here?” He asked Poe with a slight shift from apathy to alarm as he traced the trails of blood droplets back the way he came.

“Oh… Yes.. That… Well you see.” 

“Was someone here?” He asked with sharpness in his naturally baritone voice, looking around for anything out of place or broken, but everything looked normal. 

“No. Well… Yes.. But..” 

Takeshi’s head snapped to look at the AI, eyes narrowed as he stared intensely, waiting for an answer. 

Oh. It better not be. 

~~~~~~

Just get in the shower. You can do that, can't you? 

Apparently you struggled more than you should have with that. It wasn't like you had a bullet in you, but then again, you also had gotten thrown through a table, and punched repeatedly, and stabbed, and shot—kind of. But man was the pain starting to infect every muscle, every joint, every crevice of your body. You weren't exactly sure how you got out of the shower. But you managed to wash the dried blood off you. Though you were still left with two open wounds that were most likely going to have to be cauterized. 

You weren't going to enjoy this very much. 

You were hoping to just throw yourself on the bed and get it over with before Takeshi decided to spontaneously show up. By then your wounds would have been closed, what were two new scars? It's not like Takeshi would notice two more among so many. Or maybe he would notice, but by then it would have been enough time for him to be angry about it but not actually do anything about it. 

Pushing through the now throbbing pain shooting through your shoulder every time you moved your arm, you managed to get yourself into your underwear, but that was as far as that went. 

You had made it halfway from the bathroom to your bed when you heard your name being called, rather loudly, by a voice you were all too familiar with.

Well fuck. 

Takeshi followed the blood. There were drops on the elevator floor, stains on the buttons of the elevator. When the door opened, he followed the drops as his heart began to race. It wasn't a lot of blood, you weren't bleeding out, that was for sure, but his mind wouldn't stop racing. He called your name as he walked further into your room. 

His jaw tightened at the sight of you, slightly hunched over, holding your side as you limped across the room. And the look you gave him was one of deer in headlights. 

“Takeshi…” Your voice was hesitant, soft, wary as you leaned on one of the couches to support yourself. 

He was in front of you in three, maybe four, long, heavy strides. His eyes were frantic, darting all over as he looked over your face. Your eye looked like it was going to bruise, your lip split and your jaw looked angry with a forming bruise. 

“Who..” His words were barely audible, just barely above a rasp as he gripped your non bruised jaw tightly, forcing you to look at him. 

“Tak…” 

“Who the fuck did this to you?” 

You should not be getting wet at the sound of his angry words, but the rasp laced in his tongue had you clenching your thighs together. Takeshi was hot when he was angry. 

“It's fine, Tak. I'm fine, really.” You looked up to find his frantic eyes filled with fiery emotions, his jaw clenching and unclenching with each uneven breath he took. “You should see the other guy.” 

Normally Takeshi found your dry humor amusing. But he couldn't get himself to even let out a chuckle, instead he huffed as he looked over your face. 

“I want a name. Right now.” His words were barely audible, between huffs and puffs as he begrudgingly helped you sit down on the loveseat. You couldn't help but roll your eyes. 

“Can't. Kinda shot him in the stack.” You answered flatly, huffing out a small breath as you threw your head back over the armrest. Takeshi narrowed his eyes at you, noting each bruise and mark on your torso, including the angry looking cut on your side. 

“This wasn't just one person,” it wasn't a question, it was a fact, he knew that. He stared blankly at you as he waited for your response. The sigh you let out was confirmation enough. “What happened? And I want an answer without the attitude.” 

You winced, a hiss of discomfort leaving your mouth as he ran the laser over the large gash on your side. You closed your eyes, counting to five in your head before you answered. 

“I thought I was going in for a job. Something about needing access to some encrypted files,” You recalled what you had so innocently assumed to be just a simple hacking job, in and out with a decent pay, oh how mistaken you were. “The dude that had contacted me suddenly starts getting all up in my face, and asks me some weird questions about you. And when I told him to fuck off, his friends came out.” 

You shot him a glare when he silently moved to your shoulder, but that one was less deep so it didn't hurt as much, it definitely didn't hurt as much as when the bullet actually touched your skin though. 

“Why didn't you call me?” His eyes were sharp on you as he waited for your answer. Was he seriously angry at you?

“Oh right, and what was I supposed to say, ‘oh, hey sweetie, could you please come shoot some people I was doing illegal business with in the stack with me, pretty please?’” You raised your voice to a higher pitch, doing this valley girl accent which only made him inhale deeply. 

“Do you ever answer anything without the bullshit?” He muttered with exasperation as he angrily lit up a cigarette and took a drag out of it. 

“I handled it, Takeshi. Let it go.” You ultimately sighed, reaching over to brush your bruised knuckles over the side of his face. 

His eyes found your face, he saw the forming bruises, and he remembered the blood. Somebody did this to you. Somebody hurt you and he wasn't there to stop it. You could have died. He could feel the anger settle in the pit of his stomach and he began to feel the urge to rip somebody's stack out with his bare hands. His fists clenched at his sides. 

“Like hell.” He stood up so fast it gave you whiplash. You didn't want him to go. You needed him. 

“Don't go,” You stood up so fast your side was definitely screaming at you but you didn't care. He wasn't looking at you, his eyes looked way past your head at the nearest wall. But you grabbed his face, forcing him to meet your eyes. “I need you.. Please? For once just stay with me.” 

Please. 

You didn't beg often. But when you did, there was not a thing in this world he could ever deny you. He found your eyes, big mistake. The second he saw those pleading eyes he was done for. He hated the ways in which you could so easily tug at the strings of his cold heart. For the longest time he thought he didn't have a heart, until he saw you for the first time and that thing started beating. 

His mouth was on yours, he kissed you long and hard. He grabbed your face as he slipped his tongue inside your mouth. He held you, pulling your body against his. Your fist bunched around his shirt, gripping it like vice as he kissed you with fervor, like this was the last thing he ever wanted to do in this world. 

“You wanna take care of me? Hm?” You spoke softly against his lips, your fingers now threading through his long golden strands. 

The grunt that rumbled in his throat was almost animalistic. He wanted you on that bed and he never wanted you to leave it. 

“You're in pain..” He muttered through deep breaths as his long fingers gripped your jaw, forcing your head back as he brushed his nose against yours, holding on to the little stability he had left. “Don't wanna hurt you.” 

“I like it when you hurt me. I want it.” Your words were soft and desperate, quiet as you brushed your lips over his. Pain was the last thing on your mind when you had him this close, when you felt his touch, when you knew he was hanging in by a thread. You needed this more than you needed air in your lungs. 

“You want it?” He repeated, voice as low as it could go, eyes closed as he waited for that confirmation, for your permission, to absolutely ruin you. 

“Yes. Please Takeshi, I need it.” 

There wasn't anything better than Takeshi's cock in your guts after a brush with death.

His large calloused hands found the back of your bare thighs, he so easily hoisted you up around his waist as his lips crashed against yours without another word being said. He was a man of little words afterall. He was a man of action. And he was goddamn sure he would give you exactly what you needed. 

Your back landed on the soft duvets, but his lips never parted from yours. Your frantic hands shoved his coat off his shoulders, then the buttons of his shirt as he fumbled with his pants. It took some time, between desperate grabs and frantic hands, he was just as naked as you, only your underwear left between the two of you. 

His lips found your neck, wet kisses all over the skin as his hands roamed your body. He pulled back enough for his eyes to look you over. He would never get tired of looking at you. 

“You're so…” He didn't have to say it, the look in those hazel eyes of his said every word he wasn't capable of saying out loud. 

You gave him a smile, your eyes big with both longing and endearment. He kissed you one more time before he tugged your panties down. He settled just beside you, thick thighs caging one of yours as his long fingers brushed over your clit, leaving you to gasp against his mouth. His lips curved up slightly as his fingers moved in slow, long circles. He could feel you get wetter and wetter the longer he kept up his torture. He liked to hear you whine and beg for it. 

“Tak..” His name fell from your lips when you no longer could keep your mouth closed, you were gripping at his shoulder as you helplessly grinded against his fingers, desperate for more. 

“Mhm?” His lips were on your ear, his warm breath ghosting over the side of your face with each sharp inhale he took. “Need me to fuck you with my fingers, then with my cock? Is that it?” 

You were nodding so hard, gasping softly when he circled his fingers around your wet hole, teasing you. 

“Mhm!—Please—” You didn't even get the chance to finish your sentence when two long fingers buried themselves deep into your cunt. 

Your lips fell open as your eyes unconsciously rolled back into your head, the delicious feeling of his thick fingers filling you. It wasn't long before Takeshi was all but fucking you with his fingers, and you were nothing but sobs of pleasure. He buried his fingers to the knuckle, brushing your most sensitive spot with each snap of your wrist. 

Fuck did you look pretty like this. But you looked prettier when you were drunk on his cock. 

His free hand gripped your hair, keeping your head in place so he could watch the way your face would contort with pleasure. The lewd sound of your wet cunt being filled by his fingers wasn't lost on him either. He loved it. He was addicted to it. 

“That's it, let it go, sweetheart.” He grunted through his teeth when he realized you were so close, the way your hips were so desperately following the movements of his hand and the grip you had on his wrist was all but telling. He gave you a long satisfied hum when he felt your release coat his hand with a sob of his name. 

His fingers only left you when you were digging your nails into his wrist. His lips curled up in amusement at your desperate attempts but he ultimately complied. His lips were on your forehead as he eased you back into steady breathing.  

“You okay?” He was quiet, but you heard it. You simply nodded in response, still not fully able to find your voice. Good enough. “Good, ‘cause I'm gonna give you exactly what you deserve now.” 

He grabbed your arms and flipped you on your stomach with ease. You were taken aback, instinctively pushing yourself up on your forearms, but a hand on your back forced you back down. 

“Easy. Just relax, sweetheart,” he shushed you softly, you felt him move around for a second until you felt him behind you, right in between your open thighs. “Lemme take care of you, hm?” 

Your response was in the form of a soft hum, you lied flat on your stomach, your head to the side so you could breathe and your ass up enough for him to do as he pleased. And you waited, rather impatiently. You could feel Takeshi's hands on your hips, then up your back, until one of them settled on your shoulder blades. 

You were about to open your mouth when you felt the head of his cock brush over your wet clit. The only sound leaving your throat was that of a choked out moan. 

“You want it?” His lips were on your ear, voice smooth, but with this baritone rasp, a combination that drove you insane. You were nodding into the blankets. 

“Yes, Takeshi. Please.” 

Fuck, he was rolling his eyes at the sound of his name leaving your lips like that. He didn't need to say anything else. He pushed himself into you with a long, hard thrust that had you gasping. 

“Ahh….” You squeezed your eyes shut, hands squeezing the sheets in front of you at the feeling of his cock stretching your walls. You have been with Takeshi for some time now, but you never truly got used to the size of him (with this sleeve at least). “Fuck— you're so..” 

He eased a hand up and down your back, shushing you softly, he was used to it by now. When he felt you start to back into his cock he knew you were fine. He dug his fingers into your shoulder, holding you down on the mattress as he snapped his hips. A gasped cry left your lips. Again, and again with each brush of his cock, until he had you sobbing into the mattress. 

Takeshi, he fucked hard, and he liked it rough, but he had learned to take his time, he learned to take it slow, drag out the feeling for as long as possible, until you were nothing but a sobbing mess. His hand was wrapped around your hair, pushing your head down as he leaned over you. His chest was flush against your back as he rutted his hips against your ass, his lips on the back of your neck, leaving open mouthed kisses everywhere he could. 

Takeshi wasn't very talkative, ever, but goddamn was he noisy. His heavy pants, ragged grunts, the occasional fuck, were all in your ear which each delicious drag of his cock. 

“Goddamn,” he breathed out, nipping at your jaw as he pulled your head up enough to look at your fucked out face, “you feel so fucking good.” 

“Mhmmm. Shit, Tak. Feels so—” You couldn't even finish a cohesive sentence you were so cock drunk, so high on the feeling of his cock brushing that one spot that had you rolling your eyes. You reached behind you, trying to grab him, any of him. 

“Feels good, doesn't it baby?” You could hear the slight smirk on his lips as he wrapped his arm over your neck from shoulder to shoulder, almost as if he was putting you in a headlock. 

“Yes! Fuck yes—” 

“Of course it does.” 

That was enough of taking it slow for one night. 

Takeshi held you in place with his arm over your neck as he drilled into you. The only sounds leaving your mouth were sobs and choked out pants. You couldn't say any words at that point. He was fucking you so hard into that mattress you didn't even realize when the burn in your stomach started to build. All you knew it was that you were digging your nails into his arms so hard the marks would be there for days. It felt good to be caged under his body, with nowhere to go. Not that you wanted to be anywhere else. 

“C'mon, let me take care of you. I'm right here.” He rasped out, hanging on by a thread himself. God, it felt so fucking good. You were barely hanging on. But the second his thumb found your swollen clit you were done for. You couldn't even make a sound, you fell into a silent cry, eyes rolled into the back of your head as your release washed over you. “That's it. I got you.” 

He could feel your release coat his cock, and the feeling of you coming all over him only made him go over the edge himself. He gave you two, maybe three more long, hard drags of his cock before he was spilling himself inside you with a breathy fuck leaving his lips in the process. 

You all but collapsed, your head falling on the pillows as you panted, Takeshi did the same. He dropped his face on your neck, eyes closed as he steadied his breath. He stayed there for some time, he couldn't hold himself up forever, but fuck this felt so nice. You underneath him, wrapped under his arms, nobody could hurt you here. His lips eventually found the side of your head for a chaste kiss before he moved to lay beside you. But the distance between you lasted a whole five seconds because he was pulling you to him. He positioned you to face him, one leg thrown over his torso as both of his arms caged you in. He would keep you here if he could. 

Silence ultimately drowned out your soft breaths, but not once did he stop looking at you. And you could tell something eating at him, weighing on his chest. You brought a hand to his face and you saw him close his eyes with a sigh. 

“I'm sorry I wasn't there.” He finally said, riddled with guilt and anger all over again. You frowned softly and shook your head at him. 

“Stop that, okay? It wasn't your fault.” You answered, smoothing out the soft frown above his eyebrows. He looked at you, watching as you brushed the loose strands of hair out of his eyes but he said nothing. “I'm a big girl, Takeshi. What I do or what messes I get myself into are not your fault. So stop. If I was mad at you I wouldn't let you rearrange my guts, would I?” 

Takeshi didn't laugh often. Or ever really. But sometimes your absurdity brought on a genuine chuckle out of him.

“Aw, so he has a sense of humor. He's not a robot!” You snorted, raising your voice like you were announcing it to the entire city. He rolled his eyes at you. 

“I don't fuck like a robot, do I?” There was a tiny shit eating grin on his face which made you shove his shoulder playfully. 

“Oh my God, shut the fuck up.” You kissed him with a soft laugh. 

~~~~~~~

Goddammit Takeshi Kovacs.

This man just simply couldn't wake up and stay in bed with you for one day. Just one fucking time, you asked. 

You groaned tiredly as you stretched out your sore muscles before sitting up. No tall angry looking envoy anywhere. How tragic. You were about to get out of bed when the door swung open. You were about to reach for your gun on the nightstand when you saw it was just Takeshi, and he looked rather amused. 

“You're awake.” He raised his eyebrows at you in surprise, expecting you to be passed out after the night you had, partly his doing. You looked at him with suspicion as he walked to the bed. “I have something for you.” 

“Is it a decapitated head?” You blinked at him, feigning innocence and he chuckled.

“No. Well I didn't bring it here anyway.” He shrugged as he handed you a red and blue switchblade. It looked kind of cool. You stared at it for a good few seconds before you looked up at him with confusion. 

“What's this?” 

“The owner of this.” He pointed at the brand new scar on your side. Your eyes widened with realization and your mouth fell open. 

“Takeshi—” 

“I don't want to hear you.” He cut you off before you could even yell at him for not letting it go. You frowned at him deeply. He sighed as he sat beside you. “They had it coming. They touched you. It's that simple.” 

You stared at him, and you wanted to force yourself to be angry at him, angry at him for not letting it go, angry at him for treating you like some damsel in distress who needed him to save her. But when you looked into his eyes you didn't see the hero's complex. Not at all. You saw a man who was looking at the only thing that mattered to him in this world. And he'd be damned if he ever let anyone take that away from him again. 

“Awe, baby, so you aren't so heartless after all.” Your smile was mocking on the outside, but deep down it was one of endearment.

“Fuck you.” 

You loved him. And even someone as heartless as him was capable of love, too.

#takeshi kovacs x reader #takeshi kovacs smut #takeshi kovacs x fem reader #takeshi kovacs x f!reader #takeshi kovacs #altered carbon #joel kinnaman

[wisdomshoes]

so turns out i actually am hot as fuck. ive been joking about being hot to quell my hatred for everything about me including my looks, but a curious thing happened like two days ago. i was at a pride parade thingy that ended with a festival, so i was in the sun's death rays ALL DAY and i was a bit sweaty AND on top of all that my punk ass make up smeared off making it look like i havent slept in a week (still punk but yknow less hot). DESPITE ALL OF THAT a really cute blonde guy ambushed me, tapped me on the shoulder, told me i looked really good and asked for my instagram. MY. INSTAGRAM. !!!!!. i could not shut up for the rest of the day about it. it did eventually devolve into panic and i even got an anime nosebleed thinking about him.

SO IMAGINE MY SURPRISE when i found out ive been carrying out this hot ass face and bod around WITHOUT KNOWING ABOUT IT for however long ive been doing it.

#in all honesty im terrified to log onto instagram #one : the boy is waaay out of my league #TWO : #he probably thinks im some sort of cool dude festival goer #some sort of outsider #WHEN INFACT #im a toby fox obsessed shut in that messes up like every other relationship romantic or platonic #he probably thinks im cool when im just a loser creeeeepppppp what do i DOOOOOOOOOOOOOO #if he invites me to like coffee or something im just gonna be sitting there trying to not talk about my nerd ass bullshiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii #i never really had a need to open instagram but i cant ghost him #thats such a painful thing to go through and he deserves at least a response #but i cant INICIATE A CONVERSATION OR ANYTHING not after EVERYTHING #my friends told me that if he doesnt message me i have nothing to worry about and i should wait until he does so to stress out #and that if he doesnt message me the same or next day he's probably forgotten about me #and they have more experience in these sort of things because #theyre #fucking gross #like all the time #at least one of them's on the same wave as i #we call him tree #which sounds way better as a nickname in my language trust me #so i trust them on this #nnnnnnnnnnnn he probably doesnt even know what tumblr isssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss #then again he's gay so #he probably uses tumblr for hot people thingsgssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss #if he DOES want to get to know me hes gonna fucking learn that im a piece of shit nobody loser with no life FUCK #then again its been two days and he hasnt even liked any of my posts so he's probably forgotten about me and hates me and would like to see #me dead which honestly that makes the two of us hey look at that we're already finding things we have in common AND WE HAVENT EVEN SPOKEN F #what the hell do i even tag this #rant

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

oh lmao im sitting here like "hmmm what should i do after the mandatory Taking Care Of Myself part of the night..." - mf you have commissions!!! work on your comms!!! idiot (affectionate)!!!

#the neuron took a second to Fire but hey i remembered #couldnt work on em last night like i planned so!!!! #tonight i should be able to get one of the simple ones done!!! plain sketch yep!!! #i got like... four in a row #which is super neat and also Why Do They Always Come In Waves #like at this point if i get one dm i can expect at least two more in rapid succession #if not at the same time #absolutely unprompted #ANYWAY anyway. puppets. beef. shower. COMMISSION WORK. #gonna paste a sticky note that just says 'comms' to my laptop screen #bc you best believe im gonna forget! #there. sticky note written & primed to paste #oh fuck i responded to all of them right??? i did??? i think i did maybe??? ill have to check