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drabbles-mc · 9 months

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Gone Soft

Takeshi Kovacs x F!Reader

For @the-slumberparty's Bingo Challenge! Bingo square: nursed back to health

Warnings: 18+, language, blood/injury, mild angst

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: I've been tossing Tak around my head like a pinball for weeks now. Eventually I will get my thoughts and feelings about him together to do some longer fics and all sorts of stuff. But this was a nice little something to start writing him 😌

Altered Carbon Taglist: @garbinge (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

He came to with a groan and a cough, which was about what you had expected. Well, for a little while there you were wondering if he was going to come to at all. But Tak wasn’t ever the type of man who stayed dead. Might go down for a year, or a decade, or a century, but he always came back around. Lucky for you, this time he didn’t really go down, and he was only out for a week.

You looked over at him from the chair you’d set up beside his bed. Your bed, but for now it was his. You watched the way his face contorted—exhaustion, confusion, pain, all in rapid succession. He shut his eyes tight for a moment before opening them up all the way. After a few long, slow blinks he finally turned his head to look around the room. The confusion faded slightly when he saw you sitting beside him.

“You’re back,” you said as you uncrossed your legs, leaning forward.

“Didn’t realize I left,” he grunted. He braced his palms against the mattress, went to try and push himself upright just enough to lean back against the headboard. He didn’t get very far before the pain shot through him again and he dropped back down flat onto the mattress. “Fuck.”

You shook your head, a small smile on your face. “Yea I’d just stay flat if I were you.”

“Thanks for the warning,” he said, still staring up at the ceiling. He brought his hands up to his face, dragging his fingers down as he wiped the last of the sleep from his eyes. “How long?”

You laughed. “Not like you were on ice, Tak.” He turned his head so that he was looking at you. Propping your elbows on your knees, you told him, “One week.”

“And it still hurts this fuckin’ bad?”

You laughed. “Imagine if you hadn’t been out.”

He groaned, letting his eyes shut again. “I’m going back to sleep.”

You chuckled, shrugging. “Sure.”

He was already awake when you came in to check on him the next morning. He was lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling. You lingered in the doorway for a moment, wondering what he was thinking about. He knew you were there—it wasn’t like you’d been quiet. And even though he’d been put through the wringer you knew that his senses were still going to be sharper than most, sharp enough to have heard you the second you got up off the couch in the living room.

Flicking on the light, you stepped in. You couldn’t help but to chuckle at the groan he let out. “Like you didn’t know that was coming.” He turned his head so that he was looking at you. Not that you needed a reason to be popping in to check on him, but this time you actually did have one. Holding up the pack in your hand, you said, “Bandage change time.”

He let out a deep breath. “Right.”

Walking over, you peeled the blanket down off of him before sitting on the edge of the bed. For the first few seconds, your lingering stare could be written off as checking to make sure that everything was healing alright, the bruises, the cuts. But it didn’t take long for that excuse to run its course. Then you were just staring because you could.

When you finally made your eyes look into his, you found him already looking at your face. Despite the exhaustion and the pain, he still had that same stupid shit-eating smirk on his face. “Is it everything you remember?”

You rolled your eyes but you couldn’t help the smile that was creeping across your face. “Shut up. Just making sure you didn’t wake up with any new injuries.”

“Yea, I can see that.”

If he wasn’t already so beat up you would’ve given him a shove or clipped him on the side of the head. That seemed a little unfair given the circumstances. Rather than dignifying it with any kind of a response, you opted to start peeling away the bandages that were secured to his side and his chest.

“Couldn’t find me a sleeve that wasn’t beat to shit?” he asked, cringing slightly at the pull against his skin.

You shrugged. “Maybe. But I actually like this sleeve.” You paused, looking up at him until he locked eyes with you. “It’s pretty enough to make me forget how annoying your stack is.”

He chuckled at that, and you could feel the movement of his muscles beneath your fingertips. Somehow you managed not to fumble at the sensation of it, managed to keep a straight face. He could still sense the shift in you, though, because of fucking course he could. Whether or not you believed in Envoy Intuition was a moot point because Tak could read you like an open book and you had faith that he would be able to do that just as easily even if he wasn’t an Envoy.

“More work than it’s worth,” he said with a shake of his head.

Your eyes were back on his wounds again. They were already much better than they were when you’d managed to get him back to your place, but he was still a ways away from being healed. You didn’t have the money or the connections to get your hands on things that would heal him instantaneously. The selfish part of you in that moment didn’t mind it too much.

“I’m always in need of a good hobby,” you answered casually. You heard him chuckle at that and you looked back over at him. “But got it—next time I’ll let them throw you back on ice.”

He shrugged, and you knew that there was part of him that really would be that flippant about the prospect of going down again. Even if he wasn’t gonna come back for another couple hundred years. “No more hobby for you, then.”

You tried your best to reciprocate the energy. “I’m sure there are plenty of other broody men out there who need patching up.” Your expression shifted and you allowed yourself a moment of honesty even if Tak wouldn’t do the same in turn. “I would’ve found you a new sleeve if I thought I had to.”

His satisfied grin made you want to take it all back.

“Don’t,” you told him with a shake of your head.

“What?” he asked and even though you weren’t looking at him anymore you could still hear the smirk in his voice.

Rather than giving him the satisfaction of saying any of it out loud, you dumped disinfectant onto the gash across his stomach that hadn’t completely closed and started to scab over yet. He pushed the air out sharp between his teeth, hands balling into fists as he clutched your bedsheets between his fingers. He wasn’t looking at your face, eyes shut tight for a moment instead. When he finally pried his lids back open, he looked at you, able to just catch from the angle you were sitting that it was your turn to have a self-satisfied grin on your face.

“Feel better?” he asked, voice still strained as he worked his way through the sting.

“Who knew you’d gotten so soft, Tak?” you taunted with a smile.

“Wouldn’t be soft if you’d grabbed me a new sleeve.”

“You’d still be soft,” you joked. You paused, taking a moment to wipe away the excess medical alcohol on his stomach. “And if you wanted someone who could just grab you a new sleeve anytime you got yourself into a goddamn shoot-out,” you locked eyes with him, “should’ve been nicer to your Meth buddies.”

“They weren’t my buddies,” he said the word like it left a physical bad taste on his tongue.

“Did you tell them that?”

“I think the shooting might’ve said it for me.”

“You assume too much of them.” You said it with a chuckle, almost like it was a joke, but you didn’t have to be looking at him to know that he heard the truth in what you were saying.

It grew quiet between you again. You were more at ease than you thought you were going to be. Up until now, swapping out his bandages had been a solitary activity since he was still unconscious. You were expecting him to try and brush you off, try and take care of it himself. It crossed your mind, you found yourself hoping, that maybe this was progress. He was still tense beneath your touch, still sidestepping almost every chance at a real conversation with a joke or a snide remark. But he was letting you help. He was sitting still and he was letting you help. That was something.

“How often you been doing that?” he asked when you were done.

“First two days it was twice a day. Once the bleeding slowed it was just once a day.”

“Why?”

“So you didn’t get blood all over my sheets.”

He huffed out a short, quiet chuckle. “No. I mean, why put in all the effort?”

“What is your problem with this sleeve?” you asked, eyebrows raised in confusion.

“Not about the sleeve.”

You paused, lips curling down into a small frown as you turned over his previous question in your mind. “Wish I could say I just didn’t want the guilty conscience.” You shook your head. “But unfortunately, I think that I care about you now.”

It got a brief, weak smile out of him. “Very unfortunate.”

“For both of us, apparently, since it means I’m gonna make sure you stay alive.”

He let his head drop and rest against the pillow. “Looks like I’m not the only one who got soft.”

#altered carbon #altered carbon fanfiction #takeshi kovacs #takeshi kovacs x reader #takeshi kovacs x you #x reader #x reader fic #navy and roos sleepover #navy and roo's sleepover #slumber party bingo #slumber party #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc

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reveluving · 1 month

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"You look lonely. I can fix that."

But it's you and Takeshi.

#grumpy x sunshine trope because tak LIVES for your cute possessiveness #which is ironic because I see HIM being openly possessive than you #— reve's reverie 🌹#takeshi kovacs #takeshi kovacs x reader #takeshi kovacs x f!reader #takeshi kovacs x you #altered carbon #altered carbon x reader #altered carbon x you #joel kinnaman #joel kinnaman x reader #blade runner 2049 #blade runner au #okay goodbye that's all i got

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endmeprettyplease · 2 years

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Heartbeat

AN: So I’ve been debating on posting this absolute filth for months but fuck it. Title is based off of Childish Gambino’s song. Also big TW. I’m so sorry. The idea behind this is Tak working through his virtual torture trauma.

Takeshi Kovacs/afab!reader

Warnings: Consensual non-con, smut, p in v sex, afab reader, feminine pet names, breath play, mild knife play, bondage, no y/n.

Summary: You have information that Takeshi wants, you refuse, he gets creative.

Cold. Okay, sore, alright.

Alive. You were alive, yeah, you could work with that. Panic scrambled all memories of how you had even woken here, wherever here was. Doing your best to focus on all of your training you continued to take stock of yourself. Slowly opening your eyes you saw ugly, dim fluorescent lights and a cracked cement ceiling. Basement maybe? You lifted your arms, the clanking of chains following, pulling tight against your wrists before you could touch your face.

Fuck. Fuck. FUCK.

Your chest seized, sure you could handle a hell of alot but this was bad. Inhaling slowly and deeply you reminded yourself that all the years of work had prepared you for a situation like this. Shifting your legs you found them just as stiff and chained as your arms. Twisting back and forth on what seemed to be a metal table, your clammy skin sticking to the surface. It was then you finally noticed a blindingly obvious fact. You were naked, completely bare, vulnerable in an unknown location.

Fear shattered any remaining resolve and you frantically lifted your head, eyes scanning the barren room. It was dark, dilapidated. A tray of… instruments to your left only heightened your distress. The sound of someone rising from a chair and the distinct flick of a lighter caused you to jolt.

You tilted your head back as far as you could, your view of the man distorted with tears and upside down but you knew instantly you were done. Absolutely fucked. His face was unreadable, cigarette perched between his lips, black shirt pulled tight across his broad chest and tall. Towering over you as you trembled on the table.

“W-who are you?” Your voice cracked, your mouth felt dry, tongue heavy.

The man tutted as he stalked around the table coming to your side. “It’s always the same, ‘Who are you?’, ‘What do you want?’. ‘Please don’t hurt me.’” He sneered, raising a hand and swiping a tear from your face even as you flinched away.

“It doesn’t matter who I am, I know who you are. I want Amari Donahvin’s stack.” His calloused fingers trailed down to your chin, “And I will hurt you. You can cry, you can scream, you can beg. I won’t be listening unless it’s what I want to hear.”

A jolt of adrenaline hit you like a train and you thrashed in your binds again. No, no, no this can’t be happening. It’s not real. The man stepped back, smirk on his face, allowing you to tire yourself out as he searched for a tool of his liking.

Painting, you dropped back onto the table. Your wrists and ankles already feeling raw and sore. Turning to see the man watching you, as he spun a small switchblade. “I have no idea what you’re talking about! I-I have no idea who that is, please, you have the wrong person! I’m Ari-”

The man cut you off, stating your name. A name you hadn’t used in so long, a name you were pretty sure you had almost forgotten. Your real name, and your blood turned to ice. As he watched you process his face darkened, leaning in closer.

“Like I said, I know who you are, baby. And I know that you have what I want. Look,” He sighed with mock sympathy. “This is a real fuckin’ pretty sleeve. Your original? You know what, it doesn't matter. I’d really hate to have to tear it to shreds, rip your stack out and do this all again, worse, in virtual. So, just tell me and I promise I’ll drop you back off at that shithole motel.”

Any other time this situation would be a fantasy. Tied up and used by some tall, dark and handsome stranger, with a voice so deep that you swore you could feel it in your bones? Sounds like an ideal Saturday night. As much as your brain panicked your body heated, like a fucking pavlonion response to all those nights of daydreaming. Drawing your knees up as far as the chains allowed and pressing your thighs together, you hoped your change in demenor came off as terror more than reluctant arousal.

“Please, I-I told you I don’t know anything! I’ve never heard that name before in my life, please let me go.” You sobed, twisting and the cold air of the room made you shiver and your nipples pebble. Hard and sore already. Any training, any and all preparation you had done to tolerate torture and now when you finally needed to put it to use you were a mess. It was embarrassing, all of it absolutely humiliating. If he had to torture you did you have to be naked? Did he have to be so undeniably attractive? While you tried to figure out what wires had gotten crossed your head he clicked open the switchblade and pressed it to your sternum.

You jumped in response, the man’s expertise the only thing that prevented the blade from slicing you open. “Still, sweetheart.” His tone unnerving you more than the blade. Soft, contemplative and you watched as his eyes scanned you from head to toe before finally meeting yours. Slowly a small smile spread on his face, a chuckle laced with disbelief filling the room.

“Holy fuck, you’re enjoying this.” The man pulled back a bit, rolling his head up towards the ceiling, running his tongue across his teeth. The knife never leaving your skin.

You flushed further at being caught, somehow feeling even more exposed than before. A sob escaping your lips in response to the deep throb in your core. You considered just begging him for real death, crying out to any and all gods to allow the floor to swallow you whole. You squeezed your eyes shut and turned away from him, shaking your head in denial. Wishing he would just drive that blade into your chest. “P-please, I’m not, just let me go! Please, sir!”

Mercilessly the man just laughed again, wrenching your face back to his. Forcing you to meet his gaze as he squeezed your jaw tighter.

“You’re telling me that if I pull apart your thighs right now, you won’t be fuckin’ soaked? Hm?” You shook your head again uselessly as he stepped away from you. Tossing the knife away carelessly with a clatter. The man moved so slowly around the table, like a predator. And you sure as hell felt like easy prey, served up on an almost literal silver platter. You tried to draw your feet up more when he reached them, the chains digging painfully into your skin an afterthought as you cowered.

“I’m not! Please, I’m not! Don’t-”

He barely seemed to notice your cries as he gripped your knees and spread them easily in spite of your struggles. The display of strength making your head spin, who the hell is this guy? A shiver ran through you at the rush of cold air on your heated core. Feeling exactly how wet you were, how wet this whole situation had made you.

The man laughed again, holding your legs apart effortlessly as he inspected you. “Fucking knew it, you’re dripping. I thought I was fucked up, but this is a whole other level of sick, kitten.”

“P-please, stop! Sir, I-”

The man pulled his hand back, smacking your inner thigh, hard. A moan left your lips before you could stop it. “Are you going to tell me where her stack is?” His face was neutral but his eyes were amused, challenging you.

“I told you I don’t-'' Your words seemed to be his breaking point as he hooked his hands into your hips, roughly pulling you down the table. Skin squeaking harshly across the metallic surface until your arms were staining above your head.

“I think there’s a much more… fun way I can make you talk.” The man wet his lips, hungrily eating up your helpless form. “If you won’t tell me, I’ll just have to fuck it out of you. Takeshi, by the way, as cute as that ‘sir’ shit is, I wanna hear my name.” With a wink he leaned toward your exposed sex, paying no mind to you wriggling and struggling against his grip. Nor the various pleas leaving your lips.

Shocked and aroused you watched Takeshi absolutely smother himself in your sex. The stimulation so overwhelming and sudden you nearly screamed. A strangled cry ripping from your throat as his forearm pinned your hips, pressing his weight almost painfully onto you. Forcing you to feel every hot swipe of his tongue on your sensitive clit.

The clanking of chains nearly drowned out the filthy groans leaving Takeshi. You had barely formulated another desperate attempt for mercy when he slipped a finger into your sex. Quickly followed by a second. “Fuck, you’ve got a tight cunt. Relax, kitten, or I’ll never be able to fuck you.”

The impact of your skull against the table barely registered when your head dropped back, the world spinning, consumed by the feeling and the sounds emitting from between your thighs. Takeshi groaned low as you clenched around his fingers, the heat of all of it creeping past your breasts and swallowing you whole. “P-please,” Your thighs shuttered and burned, jolting when he chuckled against your already overstimulated sex and thrust another finger inside you.

The tension rising from your cunt, radiating into your gut felt like nothing ever had before. The world spun around you and you felt dizzy with it, too much, not enough. You would’ve screamed if you had enough air in your lungs for it. All it took to send you over the edge was a brutal smack on your outer thigh. Your high rushing through you like rapids, each wave forcing you to strain against your restraints. Takeshi just dug his nails into your flesh, holding you steady and you rode through the most intense orgasm of your life.

Regaining your bearings felt like resurfacing from a dive, slow and disorienting. You felt rough fabric against your thighs, tremors still running though you, the clink of a belt finally prompting to open your eyes. Takeshi kneeled between your legs, looming over you as he freed himself, face still wet with you slick he hadn’t bothered to wipe away. Somewhere far away a voice pleaded with you, telling you he’d released your ankles, that you should kick him but you locked onto his cock your mind went blank. Thick, long, reddened and fucking throbbing.

“Oh god.” Slipped out without your permission and he laughed.

“Yeah, angel, I’m going to make you feel so fucking good.” With his hands hooked on your hips he yanked you into his lap. Cock slapping onto your sex and your weight resting on your shoulders.

“Wait! Please! You’re too-” He slammed into you without warning, all the air leaving you in a great woosh.

“You know what I want to hear, unless it's that then shut. The. Fuck. Up.” Takeshi punctuated each word of the demand with a thrust, having given you nearly no time to adjust. Your cunt ached and throbbed, each time he bottomed out it sent a sharp jolt through your gut as he met your cervix.

“Fuck you’re so goddamn tight, so warm.” He groaned, for the first time seeming phased as his face twisted with determined pleasure. You wanted to tell him to stop, to go harder, faster, to swipe that blade back off the floor and split your jugular but words seemed to refuse to leave your lips. You just gasped and moaned brokenly as each thrust rocked your body up the table with a metallic squeak.

You tasted blood as his open palm met your cheek, the sting shooting to your clit like there was a direct line. “Say my name.” He panted, lips curled in a snarl. Over top of you he looked everything like the killer he was, merciless and guiltless.

“T-Takeshi, Tak-” You chanted as his pace increased with a guttural growl. His hand slipped down your face to your throat. Closing unforgivingly around your windpipe as your climax neared.

“I can’t, please,” You choked out past the pressure on your throat. You were terrified of cumming again, already too overwhelmed and raw. Your head buzzed from the lack of oxygen and blood flow, feeling bruises forming from his grip.

Takeshi did the opposite of relenting, dropping himself over you, putting more pressure on your neck and panting into your face. “You’re going to cum for me again, kitten, and then I’m going to fill up this little cunt. C’mon, cum like the whore you are.”

Your climax hurt, muscles clenching hard and painfully. Your thighs locked around his waist, unintentionally pulling him even deeper as you wailed. Takeshi moaned, thrusts stuttered and irregular as his own high was forced from him far sooner than he intended. Walls milking his cock, he spurted his release with as close to a sob as you’d ever heard from him.

Takeshi moaned your name, releasing your throat and resting his face onto your chest as his release slowly subsided.

“Shit, hey baby, let’s get you out of these cuffs.” Takeshi’s words drifted past your ears like a breeze as you enjoyed the endorphins still flooding your body. Once your hands were freed he gently massaged your skin, cooing at you quietly.

“There she is,” He murmured when you finally opened your eyes to meet his.

“Hey,” You whispered, voice hoarse, brain still feeling fuzzy.

Takeshi smiled sweetly, seeming uncharacteristically vulnerable. “I’m gonna pull out and clean you up okay?”

You hummed, honestly just ready to curl up and sleep if it weren’t for how hard and uncomfortable the table was. “Yeah,”

You grimaced when he pulled away and whined as he went to grab a wipe. He cleaned you gently, kindly avoiding your raw clit, pressing a kiss to your hip bone. “You did so fucking well, angel, I’m so proud of you.”

“You came so fast,” You snorted, dazed and so euphoric.

Takeshi huffed, the sound of wipe hitting the floor graced your ears as he gathered you into his arms.

“Not my fault your cunt is fucking magic.” His words held no venom and you relished in his warmth and scent.

You drifted quietly as Takeshi walked to the elevator until he spoke again.

“Thank you for doing this, I-” He trailed off, the silence heavy.

“Anytime Tak.” You hummed, settling in again as the elevator doors opened.

#takeshi kovacs x reader #takeshi kovacs #takeshi kovacs x you #again im sorry #consensual noncon #this is gross #altered carbon #joel kinnaman #joel kinnaman x reader

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babblydrabbly · 2 years

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the only man you look at tonight || takeshi kovacs x reader || oneshot

takeshi kovacs x f!reader || smut || 2.4k words || warnings - language. alcohol and drug use. kissing. frottage. mentions of past abuse.

a/n: for @that-sarcastic-writer's lovely follower celebration! I really loved this prompt. Congrats again on the followers bby! ♡♡♡ and thank you to @a-reader-and-a-writer for beta reading:)

[ I do not give permission to repost my work anywhere. ]

The two of you are on a night out when you bump into your ex.

Takeshi’s strong arms and broad chest box you against the glass-top bar possessively. He makes sure all other patrons avoid bumping you as you order two more drinks, persuading the man on the other side of the counter to make them doubles on the house. Ever since Tak lost his expense account on the Bancrofts’ dime, the two of you had to revert to more frugal ways of navigating Bay City. You didn’t mind. It was your life before Takeshi Kovacs came into it, and he seemed well adept at it too.

You had surprised the envoy. You weren’t one for the noisy, chaotic atmosphere of most clubs in the city. But you knew Takeshi had a penchant for vice dens just like this one, and you secretly didn’t like him going alone no matter how perfectly capable he was. Takeshi Kovacs was a magnet for trouble, after all.

The corner of Tak’s lips quirk as you keep your head on a subtle swivel. You had proven you could clock plenty of danger in seedy places.

In your own way, you were reminding Takeshi it was okay to let his guard down and enjoy the booze and drugs he so often sought out when he first arrived. And while it was true that was his original goal, he had grown used to you by his side. He wasn’t just saying yes to another night out.

Takeshi realized it long before you— A good partnership in crime had turned into good company. And going out together had become a pleasurable thing of its own.

You stiffen when Tak curls his tall frame against your back for a moment before relaxing. You feel his warm breath on your ear before you hear his sleeve’s deep, velvety baritone.

“What’d you score us?”

You try to shrug nonchalantly, keeping your eyes forward. “Some top shelf. With a spritz of a little something like Veuron.” You turn to look up at him. “You looked like you wanted to get a little loose on the dance floor.”

“Are we dancing tonight?” Takeshi wonders out loud teasingly. Warmth flushes your cheeks. You thank the bartender and slide the glasses toward yourself, holding one up for Tak. He grabs the glass and clinks it against yours. “Kanpai.”

“Skal.” You agree. The two of you knock the drinks back swiftly before he takes your hand and guides you out onto the frenzied dance floor.

The sensation that hits soon after lifts you. Your eyes chase the moving lights that wash over the other dancers, happy to sway lethargically to the reverberating beat. Once again, Takeshi stands tall behind you—his favorite place to be, it seems-—his broad hands on your hips as he sways behind you in sync.

“I like this one,” Takeshi murmurs into your ear. This time he doesn’t hesitate to press his lips right against your skin. You give him an absent hum of approval yourself and tilt your head to the side.

“You like any drugs you can get your hands on.” You point out. The hands on your hips give you a squeeze before traveling steadily up your sides. You had no idea how true that statement was.

You gasp when he spins you around and find yourself facing Takeshi.

You open your mouth to say more. Tak raises an eyebrow when you suddenly clamp your mouth shut instead. He notes how you stop moving to the music instantly— your eyes fixated on something else just past him. Or someone.

Tak uses the large mirror that makes up the far wall to pinpoint what’s caught your attention rather than glancing over his shoulder. By his guess, it’s got to be a man over by the lounge area.

The Meth has the audacity to wear his ridiculous white garb while down here, in a shitty nightclub of all places. He chats with a few other wealthy men and women. Though clearly none of them are as wealthy as him.

Takeshi glances back down at you. “Who’s he?”

You glance up, startled. But you’ve grown used to Takeshi playing detective. He cranes his ear down so you can easily speak to him over the loud music.

“He goes by Rex when he’s down on the ground. We… knew each other. A long time ago.” You try to explain through the noise and haze of the drug. And Tak can already tell by your hesitation what you mean. “He used to hook me up with Merge5. Then Merge5 turned into Merge9 and, well… I had to get away from him eventually. You know what I mean?”

A flare of something in Takeshi makes him clench his jaw. He scoffs.

Takeshi knew exactly what you meant. Even the idea of being in the same room as Miriam Bancroft again annoyed the envoy. He could imagine how demeaning it must have been to you with this Meth of your own.

Takeshi’s weightless mood shifts as he steps closer to you, his hands on your hips again.

“But like I said. It was a long time ago.” You reiterate. Tak watches you glance down with a hint of shame. “Way before you were last spun up, that’s for sure.”

Takeshi takes your chin and brings your face back up. Your eyes flit over his expression, trying to discern what he may be thinking. When Tak finally takes a glance over at Rex, he isn’t surprised to see the man looking back. Takeshi smirks.

His kiss is electric. Your muffled sound cuts off as Takeshi cups your face with both hands and pulls you in. His lips mixed with your spinning daze leave you breathless. Kissing Takeshi Kovacs is a high on its own.

“Tak?” You shudder when those lips break away and leave a hot trail down your jawline. Right to the spot beneath your ear that makes you melt. His eyes drift open as he presses hot kisses against your skin, pulling away long enough to lock eyes with you. He catches your dazed attention in an instant.

“Let’s get out of here.” He offers casually. Takeshi’s concern, despite the way he wraps it up in his particular brand of attitude, reminds you just how protective he can be. He had hid it at first. In sideways glances and gentle brushes of his knuckles against yours.

But now, after everything you had been through together in this shitty town, it was the two of you. A package deal.

Your eyes flicker to his parted lips— to the way they glisten now in the neon lighting because of their contact with your skin. Then back to his blown pupils rimmed with their brilliant hazel rings. You grip the front of his shirt in response, desire suddenly blooming in your chest and down to your toes.

The spell is broken by the sound of his voice. One you never wanted to hear again but should have expected eventually. “Look who’s back in town.” He greets. Rex approaches with abandon, his cloned sleeve in pristine condition. You scoff under your breath when he elbows a few dancers out of his way.

“Here I am.” You respond. You don’t know how else to. You twist your fingers into the fabric just above Tak’s waist.

Takeshi wraps his arms around you, pulling you even closer. It’s so possessive you have to lift a foot subtly to not step on the envoy’s shoes. You blink as your cheek connects with Tak’s firm chest, a little speechless.

The Meth glances at Tak’s posture but says nothing about it. His smile is as congenial as ever.

“You must be the man I can’t quite live up to.” Tak drawls loudly over the din. His words, dripping with sarcasm, go right over the other man’s head.

“Talks about me, does she?” He grins.

Not at all, you prick. You bite your tongue before you regret it.

You don’t know what you expected, but it certainly wasn’t Takeshi playing his version of nice. He was one of the most bullheaded creatures you’d ever met. You’d only seen him skirt his way around conflict a handful of times– when absolutely necessary. You were both survivors in that way.

But Takeshi Kovacs knew how to play the board. Behind Rex, a few of his entourage kept their eyes on the three of you, ready to clean up the mess their Meth often made in his wake. It’d be in your and Takeshi’s best interest not to escalate anything while high and outnumbered.

“Well, I’m sure she wouldn’t settle for anything less than.” Your ex humbly concedes.

Your cheeks heat up again when he finally walks away– no longer a blush of desire but of embarrassment. Shame. Why shame?

Before you can sink into the feeling further, Tak grasps your chin lightly between his fingers.

“Fifty credits says he turns back around once he gets to that bar.” The envoy murmurs. You furrow your brow in confusion at his amused little smirk.

“What do you mean?”

Tak replies with another deep kiss.

“Be a little brash for me, for once.” He nips at your bottom lip.

You roll your eyes. “You’re one to talk. I thought we were just leaving.”

Tak doesn’t need the grip of his strong, callused hands to get your hips moving. You sway with him, leaning back to lock dilated eyes with the envoy. He pins you with his hooded hazel gaze and that expression you still can’t quite figure out. You’ve always wondered just how many calculations the envoy can make about what’s in front of him in a matter of seconds.

“This meth doesn’t know what’s mine.” Tak growls in your ear. The words drop sharply down to your core, and your mouth parts with shock. He’s never said something so forward about the two of you before. And you never dared to ask him.

“Takeshi.” Your eyes flit over to Rex. Tak gives you a moment to lock eyes with him, just enough to catch the glimpse of desire in the other man’s eyes. It’s one you’re familiar with, tainted with all the things you don’t ever want again; Jealousy; Insecurity; And that acrid kind of possessiveness without an ounce of true care. He held his power over you too long. Long enough that you’d never forget why you ran away in the first place.

But Takeshi’s face is different. You gasp as his hand closes softly around your jaw and guides your line of sight back to him. His gaze is something completely new. You flush beneath his hazel stare dotted with the strobe and neon lights dancing around you both. When he kisses you again, Takeshi presses his body against yours- chest to chest and hips to hips. You let go of a whimper when his arousal presses flush to your pelvis. You clench your thighs together with want, eyes falling shut.

So you try to ease into it. Let him pin you to him as his familiar touch runs ribbons of tingling warmth up and down your sides. And soon your past problems with Rex seem far away again– the distance from where you stand and the bar growing with every heart-thudding beat of sound.

Tak’s thigh coaxes your legs apart. Through the thin fabric of your pants, his muscles press firmly to you, gliding back and forth as the two of you begin to grind. You moan lightly at the friction. It’s not just the booze or the drugs– it’s Takeshi holding onto you so fiercely that gets your hips rolling. You bury your face in the man’s chest as the first slick sign of wetness blooms between your legs. You exhale a breath across the Envoy’s chest.

“Fuck.” He groans softly under all the noise. Could his intuition really tell him just how much you were enjoying yourself?

Eager to coax more sounds out of your normally silent partner, your hand makes its way down his chest. Over every cord of rolling muscle until your fingers finally hook on his belt. You glance up cheekily at him and bite your lip.

“I might just have to carry you out of here after all.” He smirks down at you. His eyes flutter shut as you reach up with your free hand to push the soft fringes of hair out of his eyes.

You savor the sharp inhale Tak breathes in as you cup the hard length at his center. Tak’s face twists subtly with pleasure. You stroke him as he grinds you down on his thigh. The two of you stay like this, working each other’s bodies under the guise of dancing as you hide your face away in the safety of Takeshi’s collar.

Tak holds your weight when the tell-tale sign of your quaking knees leaves you gripping onto his belt. His arms wrap around you on instinct as you shutter and buck lightly against him, your head tilting back in ecstasy. Lips find the column of your throat. Takeshi mouths at your pulse as your cries are drowned out by the music. A hand cards through your sweat-damp hair as you catch your breath.

You lock eyes with Takeshi. The thought of an audience member watching the two of you is long gone from your mind. Still, you smile dazedly at Tak, knowing where you want the rest of the night to go.

“I think I know a place with free booze and a little more privacy.”

He snorts, reading your mind. His voice is a heavy rasp now that it’s drenched with desire.

“Yeah? I think I might know the proprietor. And no, he doesn’t care for privacy.”

You grin as Takeshi relents anyway, a heat flooding your chest when you catch him throwing a sly smirk back toward the bar for a split moment. You don’t care enough to look yourself.

The two of you escape the underground club and step back out into the Bay City fog, your only thoughts on the hand enveloping yours and the warm safe haven waiting for you both.

#lias writing challenge #lias 1300 milestone #write with lia #takeshi kovacs #takeshi kovacs x reader #takeshi kovacs x you #altered carbon #altered carbon fanfiction #Joel kinnaman fanfiction #mywords*#thatsarcasticwriter

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loverhymeswith · 2 years

Text

All You Have To Do Is Stay | Takeshi Kovacs x GN!Reader

Summary: A heatwave in Bay City leads to unexpected consequences.

Word Count: 1.8K

Warnings: Angst. Vague mentions of characters sleeping together. Nothing explicit.

A/N: Written for @that-sarcastic-writer 's 1300 follower celebration, using the prompt "Look me in the eye and tell me you don't love me". Congratulations lovely! <3

Summer in Bay City does not come without its fair share of rainfall, but this year is different. It’s been six weeks since the heavens opened, six weeks since a drop of water fell from the sky, and now the drought - combined with the cloying heat - finally seems to be causing the residents of The Raven to lose their minds.

Takeshi Kovacs is no exception. As soon as the pink unicorn backpack made its appearance, you knew trouble was afoot. With no end to this heatwave in sight, tempers are fraught, nerves are frayed, and left right and centre, unwise decisions are being made. In your opinion, Takeshi might just be the number one culprit, having just concocted a brilliant scheme that is sure to result in his real-death – that’s if you don’t murder him first.

“If you do this, don’t expect me to be waiting around to patch you up again.”

Takeshi finally drags his attention away from cataloguing the extensive weapons cache on the counter, his intense hazel gaze landing on you instead. A thin sheen of sweat clings to every inch of tanned skin he currently has exposed. There’s some small amount of satisfaction to be taken from the fact that he’s not entirely immune to the rising temperatures.

“I mean it,” you warn him, reading the subtle amusement in his expression. He’s clearly not taking your threats seriously enough. “I’m done. I’m gone.”

He zips up the obnoxious pink backpack and levels you with a penetrating stare. “If I don’t do this, a lot of people are going to die.”

You fold your arms, trying to ignore the uncomfortable prickle of heat at the back of your neck. “And what about you?

The stubborn, pig-headed envoy simply smirks. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”

You used to believe it – used to believe that Takeshi Kovacs was invincible. You clearly remember the first time Vernon brought you along to The Raven to help patch up the envoy’s wounds. You had been shocked, to say the least. Fascinated, too. Not only that Takeshi was still standing after suffering such extensive injuries, but also by how quickly he had healed.

That was nearly two years ago. For some inexplicable reason, you found yourself sticking around. Like Takeshi and the Elliots, you’ve become somewhat of a permanent fixture at the A.I. hotel. Consequently, it has put you in the perfect position to notice the shift in Takeshi’s behaviour. Ever since Bancroft and Reileen and Ortega, it’s like he’s intent on becoming some kind of martyr.

“Can’t you at least take Vernon with you?”

“And watch him get himself killed? I don’t think so.”

Poe and the Elliots have already spent the morning bickering with Takeshi, once again throwing around words like ‘friendship’ and ‘teamwork’ as if such concepts could be enough to make him change his mind – could persuade him against this ridiculous suicide mission. But they don’t know him like you do.

Even after all this time, Takeshi still doesn’t believe in friendship. He believes in acquaintances. Assets. People he can leverage to do his bidding. To help him get what he wants – whatever the hell that might be. No matter how hard you’ve fought to make him believe otherwise, he still refuses to accept that there are people like Vernon and Ava, like Poe, who truly care for him.

And then, there's you. It’s still unclear where you fit in when it comes to Takeshi Kovacs. Until recently, you’d suspected you were just another dispensable asset. But then everything changed. What the others don’t know is that for the last six weeks – when it’s late at night and all the fighting and the scheming has finally stopped – not only have you been sharing Takeshi’s company, you’ve also been sharing his bed.

It’d be easy to blame it on the heat. Even easier to blame it on the liquor. The first time had been little more than a drunken mistake, an ill-advised distraction after his near-miss with the Yakuza. But the following night, you had sought him out again. After that, it became a compulsion.

It wasn’t supposed to mean anything. Emotions were certainly not supposed to beinvolved. But that had become harder and harder each time you found yourselves rolling beneath his sheets. Foolishly, you realise, you��ve been starting to think that you can see through the walls he’s erected. Thinking that one day you might break them down, brick by brick.

It’s possible you imagined it entirely, but you thought you’d seen a change in Takeshi, too. You thought that there had been a softening to his eyes as he made love to you. A half-smile that he seemed to reserve for you alone.

That smile is currently nowhere to be seen as he matches you glare for glare.

Unfazed by the six foot three wall of muscle standing before you, the spark of anger in your chest ignites. “But you expect us all to sit back and watch as you get yourself killed?”

“That’s different.”

“No,” you tell him firmly. “It’s not.” With it now increasingly apparent that he’s not going to heed your warning, you simply turn around and leave.

The streets of Bay City are eerily quiet. Nobody wants to be outside in this heat. It’s like a furnace, constant and smouldering. Leaving the relative luxury of The Raven’s air-conditioned foyer might have been another unwise decision, but you couldn’t spend another minute inside knowing that every passing second in Takeshi’s company might just be your last.

You’ve been walking for almost fifteen minutes when someone calls your name. Your hackles raise, but you continue walking, picking up the pace despite the pressing heat and the sweat forming on your brow. You're not some dog that can be called to command. No matter what might have transpired between the two of you back in the privacy of his bedroom, you’re not just going to roll over for Takeshi Kovacs. Not anymore.

A firm hand grasps your shoulder, halting you in your tracks. “Would you just stop and talk to me?” There’s a hint of desperation in Takeshi’s voice as he spins you around. It affects you far more than you care to admit.

“There’s nothing left to say,” you spit, not bothering to hide the venom in your own voice. He should know that wounded animals are prone to bite. “You’ve made your feelings perfectly clear.”

“You didn’t even give me a chance to explain.”

His fingers are still curled around your shoulder. You shrug out of his grip. “Explain what, Tak? That you’d rather go charging into danger, risking your life for a bunch of strangers than even contemplate the fact that there are people here that care about you.”

“You don’t understand.”

“No. I don’t.”

Takeshi is a storm cloud. As his mood darkens, electricity fills the air. “Everyone I’ve ever loved has been taken away from me. I don’t want anyone else to have to go through that kind of pain. These are bad people. But I have the power to stop them. I have to do this.”

“And what about the people who love you, Takeshi? You don’t care that one day you’re going to be taken away from them? Do you know how many nights I’ve sat up waiting for you to return, not knowing what state you’re going to come back in. If you’re even going to come back. I can’t do this anymore.”

A flicker of understanding crosses Takeshi’s face and his expression shifts. That softness you thought you must have imagined has suddenly returned. “Is that what this is about? Your feelings for me?”

His words penetrate your skin like a knife, cutting you open and leaving you to bleed out the truth all over the sun-bleached pavements of downtown Bay City. “I don’t have feelings for you,” you assure him, slapping a bandaid over the wound. “The only thing this is about is you being a selfish prick.”

Takeshi shakes his head. “I don’t think that’s true.” He reaches out a hand to cup your jaw, tilting your head so you’re forced to meet his gaze. "Look me in the eye, sweetheart. Look me in the eye and tell me you don't love me."

“I-” Before you can answer, a crack of thunder shatters the silence. As one, the two of you cast your gaze to the sky, only to find that the sun has disappeared behind a huge black cloud.

The first fat drop of water lands on Takeshi’s brow. He blinks in surprise. The next one falls on your cheek. Takeshi wipes it away with the soft brush of his thumb across your skin. As you stand there, frozen by his words, by his touch, the heavens fully – finally – open. A tiny squeak of laughter threatens to burst forth from your lips. Of course, of all the days for the drought to break, it had to be this one.

“We should go inside,” you tell Takeshi, blinking away the heavy drops of water now clinging to your lashes.

“No,” he disagrees, his palm still curved around your cheek. “I want to know what you were going to say. Don’t think I haven’t noticed the way you’ve been looking at me lately. We both know these last few weeks have been more than just about the sex.”

It’s complicated. Isn’t that always the case? There’s a very real possibility that you do love him, but you’re not ready to admit that just yet. You’re not ready to open yourself up to that kind of heartache. Not if he’s still going to walk into battle with that reckless grin on his face. You can’t bear the thought of losing him, but it’s easier with a protective shell of willful ignorance around your heart.

“What does it matter if I’m going to lose you anyway?”

Takeshi dips his head lower to make himself heard over the hammering rain. “It matters.”

The force of the rainfall has plastered the lengths of Takeshi’s hair to his brow. It’s a struggle not to reach out and brush the locks from his face, but such a gesture would do little to fight your case. “Would it make a difference?” You wonder aloud, trying not to lean into the warmth of his hand against your cheek. “If I told you I love you, would it make you stay?”

Takeshi’s lashes shutter. You can sense the conflict as he works his jaw. “I’m not going to lie to you and tell you that it would make me stay. But I can promise you it would be something worth surviving for. A reason for me to make it out of this fight alive.”

Three little words aren’t going to change the outcome of this battle, but if it means he’ll try that little bit harder – if it means he’ll have hope in his heart instead of fear – isn’t that a small price to pay?

Balancing on your tiptoes, you close the gap to Takeshi, brushing your wet lips against his. “I love you, Takeshi. Just promise to come back home to me.”

Joel Taglist: @a-reader-and-a-writer @babblydrabbly @sociiallydiisoriiented @lacontroller1991 @ed-baldwin @fairchildflag @phoenixhalliwell @s-u-t @kirsteng42 @katjnordstrom96 @weallhaveadestiny @lavenderluna10 @mayhem24-7forever @yespolkadotkitty @bewitchedignition @heresathreebee @immyownlittlebitch @littlefreakingfangirl @xoxabs88xox @justin-hammers

#takeshi kovacs #joel kinnaman #altered carbon #takeshi kovacs x you #that-sarcastic-writer #follower celebration #takeshi kovacs x reader #lias 1300 milestone #lias writing challenge

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lacontroller1991 · 1 year

Text

Bionic Exile - Chapter 5 Alt Ending

Main Master List || Series Master List

Requested by @daughter-of-the-stars11 : Would you ever consider doing a one shot or a short series where reader from Bionic Exile chooses Takeshi instead of both of them... can I also add jealous Rick

Warnings: 18+ only please, implied sex, alcohol use, language, Rick may be a little ooc

Author's Note: SO I think this would fit perfectly in chapter 5, so I kept half of chapter 5 and then just rewrote the other half!! I hope you enjoy!

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Ever since Rick moved in with you, it had become a tradition that every Saturday night was movie night. Tonight wasn’t any different, except for the fact that you chose to sit squished up next to Takeshi on the loveseat instead of next to Rick on the couch.

Takeshi. That dick. Who does he think he is stealing my girl like that, the thought makes Rick freeze. His own brain betrays him as he throws some popcorn in his mouth, his eyes training on the movie and trying to not look over to you cuddling up with the envoy, what does he have that I don’t? Rick grinds his teeth together as his jaw clenches, jealousy taking control of his body. It doesn’t take much to break Rick’s concentration. Just hearing you laugh at something that Takeshi has whispered into your ear is enough to make him squirm.

Quirking an eyebrow, Rick shakes his head and forces his attention back to the movie. Your favorite movie. Not that you seem to notice, too busy fucking with Takeshi’s stupid trench coat, Rick huffs before moving to stand up, who wears a damn trench coat around the house, anyways?

“I’m getting something to eat,” he declares, mostly to himself, excusing himself from the room and rushing to the kitchen. Setting the bowl down, Rick grips the edge of the sink and watches as your hands brush a stray strand of hair out of Takeshi’s face. Turning away, Rick opens the cabinet and pulls out a bottle of whiskey. He knows he probably shouldn’t be drinking, but there you were, the love of his life, sitting and flirting with another man. Twisting off the cap of the bottle, Rick takes 3 gulps of the brown liquor before you round the corner and enter the kitchen with eyebrows raised in speculation.

“Rick? Why are you drinking,” you ask softly, opening a bag of popcorn and placing it in the microwave while hardly taking your eyes off of him. Rick glances at you with discontent before taking another swig of the bottle, the liquid burning his throat and lighting up his stomach.

“Because I can? Not like it matters to you,” he responds with venom laced words while you purse your lips. You were absolutely sick and tired of this behavior. You knew he didn’t like Takeshi staying with you and him and you know that he doesn’t like Takeshi one bit, but you wanted to assume that despite it being well over a week at this point Rick would get over himself. Evidently not, you think as you watch the man you love take another big gulp of the shitty whiskey that he keeps solely for the purpose of getting drunk.

“God damn it, Rick. I am so fucking sick of your fucking pity party. Get over it,” you whisper harshly, not wanting Takeshi to know what is occurring twenty feet away from him, though he can probably hear everything. Rick stalks in front of you, his jugular vein popping out of his neck while his hand clasps the bottle of Jack Daniels. Nodding his head, he shoves the bottle in your hand before leaving the kitchen area and heading for his room.

Setting the bottle on the counter, your body shakes with anger while tears threaten to roll down your face. After taking a moment to collect your breath, you walk back into the living room and climb onto Takeshi’s lap, legs spread over onto each side of his lean hips. Looking up to you, Tak notes the way your eyes brim with unshed tears and your body shakes with anger. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out what was wrong. So instead, Tak waits for you to talk while your hands clench this fabric of his jacket.

“Tak, fuck me hard until I can’t walk.”

Rick stumbles out of bed before looking at the clock on his drawer.

“2:43, fuckin’ perfect,” he mumbles in his gravely southern accent to himself as he rubs his temples. Maybe it wasn’t his brightest idea to chug down that much whiskey in that short of a time, but he wanted to forget just for a little while. Rolling his shoulders back, Rick nears the door but a repeating banging sound alerts him. Grabbing his gun, he prowls down the hall, the sound growing louder as he approaches your door. Pressing his ear up against the wooden door, his blood runs cold.

“Fuck, Tak. You feel so fucking good. Harder,” your unmistakable voice echoes through the door as grunts and moans follow.

“You’re doing so good, pretty girl. Feel so good around my cock. Cum for me, angel,” Rick backs into the opposite wall, the shock and hurt swallowing him up as he runs back to his room, locking the door and sinking to the floor. That’s it, he got her.

----------

The squad watches Rick throw punch after punch after punch to the bag, his muscles rippling with each swing as sweat gathers on his brow bone and his body, clinging his grey shirt to his body, unintentionally highlighting each and every toned muscle on Rick’s body.

“Damn, someone must have really pissed him off, I ain’t neva seen him like this,” Harley comments, exaggerating the word ‘really’ as she watches with lust. Nobody could really blame her though, he was a sight to see at the moment. His normally calm demeanor long gone and replaced with an animalistic urge.

“I wonder what happened,” DuBois watches with intent, noticing the way Rick’s anger seems to spike up ten-fold when you and your new pet project happen to walk by the window leading to the floor above, neither looking down as they pass. DuBois’s attention then shifts back to Rick who’s fists continue to pound into the sandbag without a moment of reprieve until the bag flies off the hook that was keeping it up.

Heaving, Rick feels the eyes of his squad watch him with anticipation at his next move. Not one of them daring to move or make a sound, unsure how to respond to the suddenly vicious nature of their normally collected superior coming out in such a controlled environment.

“The fuck you lookin’ at?” He questions, head whipping around to face his team who just stare back at him. Suddenly, Harley takes a step forward, ignoring the way DuBois shakes his head in an attempt to tell her not to provoke the colonel.

“Fuck’s wrong with ya, Flag? What’s got ya panties in a twist? You need to get laid or something,” Harley doesn’t notice the way Rick marches toward her til he’s standing right in front of her. “Why don’t you shut your fucking mouth, Quinn. You don’t know what you’re talking ‘bout,” Harley’s eyes darken in anger as she purses her lips before shoving a finger into Flag’s chest.

“Where do you get off telling me to shut my mouth. It ain’t my fault you can’t get a girl. It most certainly ain’t my fault that you were too late to fuck (Y/N),” Rick’s eyes narrow at the woman, “yeah, don’t think we didn’t notice the way your mood progresses down the drain the closer (Y/N) and Tak get. So why don’t you take it out on somebody else, but not us,” Harley concludes before walking off, the rest of the squad following her out save for DuBois who clasps a hand on Rick’s shoulder.

“You really need to get laid, mate. It might help you,” Rick contemplates Robert’s words as the former assassin walks away, leaving Rick to his own thoughts.

----------

You laugh as you walk through the door with Tak following closely behind before shutting your door. Placing your bag down you move to pop open a bottle of wine when a high pitch voice giggling steers your concentration to the hall.

“Yeah, I’ll see you later, Ricky,” the culprit walks out of Rick’s room and allows you to get a better look at the woman. She has a nice body, you note to yourself, sun kissed skin with an ample bosom and an hourglass waist. But what you notice the most is the hickeys that were beginning to form on her neck and the fact that she is naked. Normally, you would be seeing red. After all, you’ve spent so much time on trying to win Rick and get with him, but for some reason, seeing the naked woman doesn’t really get a reaction out of you. Maybe it’s partially because of the talk that you and Tak just had.

Tak, on the other hand, has mixed thoughts about what’s in front of him. He was half expecting you to be throwing a fit by now but then he also can’t believe the audacity Rick has. From what Tak can tell about your relationship with Rick is that you have given your everything for Rick and Rick just continues to take advantage of it time after time.

“Hey Sav, you forgot your-” Rick rushes out of his room, hair disheveled and pants hanging low on his hips and in his hand, a bright pair of red underwear, however, upon seeing you in the doorway with Takeshi right behind you, Rick can’t help but feel a twang of guilt. Instead of making a scene like Rick thought you would, you simply grab Tak’s hand and maneuver away from the hooker and into your bedroom without sparing Rick another glance.

“Thanks, Rick. Same time next week?” Rick struggles to look between the crack of your door while Savannah plucks her underwear out of his hands.

“Actually, no. I don’t think I’ll be needing it.” Rick offers her a small smile as she shrugs, leaving the apartment and Rick alone. Shaking his head, Rick peers through the crack before pushing the door open, only to see you sitting on Tak’s lap while Tak mindlessly plays with your hair. “What the hell is going on here?”

You look up from your laptop to Rick in the doorway, shirt still off and various lipstick prints over his toned body. “What do you mean? I’m just trying to get some work done?” Rick resists the urge to roll his eyes at your obliviousness before he’s gesturing to you on Tak’s lap.

“That. Why are you on his lap?” You look back at Tak with a smile, his hand finding a place on your thigh and gently squeezing in support before you turn back to Rick.

“Well, actually, Tak and I were just talking and… I’m thinking about going back with him.” Rick’s heart drops and shatters into pieces but he would be damned if he let it show.

“What?” The question is quiet as he tries to wrap his brain around what you just said. “What did you say?” He looks between you and Tak in confusion. Just how could this happen?

“Once the portal is back up, she’s coming with me,” Tak comments emotionlessly. In one way, he is ecstatic that you would be willing to try a relationship out with him, but he doesn’t know just how much danger he would be putting you in by bringing you back and if something happened to you like something happened to Quell, he truly doesn’t know how he would live with himself. Of course, when he was discussing it with you about an hour ago, he could practically see the way your eyes lit up with excitement and the prospect, but Tak knows you. He knows that once you go with him, you’re going to immediately regret it and want to go back home. Back to Rick. And that part scares him.

“No,” Rick takes a step back, heart hammering against his chest, “no, you can’t go back.” Rick’s vision starts to blur as he leans on the frame, slowly sliding down the post and you’re quick to jump up from Tak’s lap and rush to Rick’s side, looking him over in confusion.

“Rick, are you okay? Do you need me to call an ambulance?” Rick shakes his head, pushing you away as he struggles to take deep breaths. He honestly can’t remember the last time he had a panic attack like this, and he hates it.

“No, just leave me alone.” He rushes out the door and to his room, confusion settling in. What did he do to drive you away? What does Takeshi Kovacs have that he doesn’t? With a rather dumb idea in mind, he pulls out his phone and dials the only number he knows will help, no matter the cost.

---------

The drive to Belle Reve is longer than it typically is. Maybe it’s because of the tight tension in the car or maybe it’s a sinking gut feeling, but whatever it was, you’re anxious to get back to your project.

As Rick pulls into the parking lot, your eyes widen at the plume of smoke rising from the scientific division. “No, no, no.” You jump out of the car and ignore the calls of Rick and Tak to come back only to run toward the fire and hope that it wasn’t your life’s work.

Looking back and forth between each other, both men rush after you and into the building where it only takes minutes to find you, collapsed on the ground and in tears.

Sinking to his knees, Tak fumes silently as he takes you into his strong arms. Despite the fire looking like an accident, Tak’s envoy intuition is telling him that it’s anything but, but he doesn’t really care about that right now. In any case he’s relieved. He’s relieved that the machine is broken and he’s relieved that you and him won’t be able to go back. Sure he’s now mortal, but he’d rather be mortal than have you die and not be able to resurrect you. “It’s alright (Y/N). We don’t have to go back.” Tak rocks you in his arms while you sob into his chest as he looks around to all the different personnel, and to the side, he can easily spot Rick talking to Waller, a devious grin plastered on the latter’s face. “That fucking bastard.”

“What?” You look up through tear soaked lashes as Tak looks down, shaking his head, trying to protect you from the truth.

“Nothing princess, how about we go and pack some bags and leave for a while.”

“It was Rick, wasn’t it.”

“I don’t think he started it, but he definitely had a part in it.” If you had any doubts about moving on from Rick, they just flew out the window. Standing up, you wearily make your way over to where Rick and Waller stand off to the side line, both watching you with curiosity.

“(Y/L/N), I am sorry to see this damage. As it is, however, we do not have the funds to rebuild it.” You scoff and turn to Rick, rage boiling beneath the surface and before you know it, you’re punching him straight across the face and Tak is quick to watch over the whole ordeal in case things go south.

“You’re a real fucking asshole, Flag. I do not want to EVER see you again.” It hurt to say, but any man who would destroy your life’s work does not need to be in your life.

“I had to do what I had to do. I love you. I didn’t want to see you prance off with that alien when you could have a whole life with me.” Despite your heart swelling at the proclamation, you can’t help but to feel that you’re making the right choice.

“You have more than enough chances, Rick. I’m sorry, but you lost me.” Turning to Waller, you hand in your badge for the prison with a look of disdain on your face. “I want a transfer out of this hell hole.” She nods before you turn back to Tak, tears threatening to spill again. “Come on Tak, let’s go home and pack.” Grabbing Tak’s wrist, you drag him out of the building and you drag yourself out of Rick’s life.

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Joel Related Tag List: @aestheticallywinchester @loverhymeswith @xoxabs88xox @t-i-n-y-d-i-n-o @witchygagirl @the1redrose @ratcatcher2world @green-socks @weallhaveadestiny @yourjacketisnowdry @rachelh1992 @a-girl-who-loves-disney @knivesareout @bubblegloopswampwitch @waspswidows @burntghoost @mattymurdocksbitch @katjnordstrom96 @11thstreetvigilante @yespolkadotkitty @heresathreebee @madkovacs @wxr-zxne @wtfobiwan @alieninoklahoma @violetmuses

Bionic Exile Tag List: @kingtwhiddleston @taternuts @strawberriebabbles @nerdysuperchick @inthetikiroom @taylorgasmtpr @saritanotserena @blackrose53666 @more-cardigan-than-woman

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a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all · 2 years

Text

Impossible Situation

Whumptober 2022: 20. Prisoner Trade, 26. Separated Fandom: Altered Carbon, Takeshi Kovacs Word Count: 1355 TW: Angst, Mentions of Family Violence, Forced to Return to Abusive Situation, Separated Loves

Takeshi Kovacs stood at the far end of the abandoned building just as he had been instructed. His long coat swirled gently around his legs as he turned in a slow circle, silently cataloging every entrance or possible point of escape. A quick getaway wouldn’t be necessary if the handoff went as planned. But since when has anything ever gone as planned for Takeshi?

He stilled when he felt a hand softly rest on the small of his back. Glancing over, the small smile of reassurance you were giving him felt like a knife in his chest. You should not be comforting him at this moment. You should be terrified, furious, or heartbroken. But instead, you were trying to make him feel better about what was about to happen. How pathetic was he?

As if reading his thoughts, you rested your head against his shoulder and said, “It’s okay, Tak. We’ll just follow the instructions and everything will be fine.”

“How is any of this ‘fine’?” he snarled. “How did I ever agree to any of this?”

“Because you didn’t have a choice,” you whispered, rubbing your hand gently across his back.

He sighed as he closed his eyes and leaned into your touch. You were right. As much as it infuriated and terrified him, he had been unable to find another way out of the current situation. Which was why he was about to hand you over to the worst crime syndicate in Bay City. Back to your family.

The only daughter of the head of the organization where women were viewed as nothing more than bargaining chips, your life had been nothing but pain and heartbreak for as long as you could remember. When money is no obstacle, no one cares about lasting damage done to a sleeve or even sleeve death. Though you were only 86 years old, Tak had been disgusted to learn you had stopped counting sleeves after your fiftieth one almost twenty years ago. Each new skin was necessary due to the severity of damage done to your previous one. It was no wonder you finally ran away.

But now he was willingly giving you back to them. To the people who had essentially killed you over and over again for almost a century. And when he had told you about it, you had agreed instantly.

You would be punished when they got you back home. Severely. The thought alone filled Tak with a white-hot rage that made it nearly impossible to maintain the mask of calm indifference he had adopted for the meet-up. Based on what you had told him about your past, there was a good chance you would be tortured, starved, and probably broken to the point of needing to be resleeved. But the only reason he agreed to any of this was that no matter how badly they punished you, they wouldn’t kill you. The same could not be said for Elliot.

When your family had finally discovered where you were and who you were with, they knew they couldn’t attack directly. But word on the street was that the Last Envoy had a friend who lived in Bridgetown with his family. Ava had called him in tears a few days ago saying that some men busted into their home and dragged Elliot away. You hadn’t needed to hear any more details; you already knew what had happened. And your suspicions had proven to be correct when Poe received instructions for a prisoner exchange the next morning.

And now here you were, waiting for your family to take you away from him. Tak had already lost so many people he loved in his life, he wasn’t sure how he was supposed to live with losing you too.

Drawing you into his arms, Tak leaned over and nuzzled his nose against your ear as he whispered, “I’ll come for you, I swear.”

But you quickly pulled away so you could turn to face him. Staring deeply into his eyes, you said, “If you love me, you won’t.”

“What? Why would I not try to save you from them?”

“Because you can try, but you won’t succeed. They’re too powerful and well-protected. And no matter what they do to me, I can endure it knowing you are safe somewhere out there. But if they kill you…. I can’t survive that. So, please Tak, let this be goodbye. Let me savor these last few months as the gift that they were and not taint my memories with your death. Please.”

Tak opened his mouth to respond, but the door at the other end of the building opened before he could. He grabbed you, spun you around, and pulled you tight against his chest, his gun suddenly pressed against the side of your neck directly in line with your stack. It was all part of the plan to make your family think Tak had captured you instead of the truth that you ran away, but he could still feel your heart beating wildly against him. Though if it was due to the fear of the gun against your skin or the presence of the men who had just walked in, he did not know.

There were seven of them, all armed with an assortment of weapons, all deadly looking. When the one who seemed to be in charge saw you, his eyes narrowed but he mumbled something to one of his men. Seconds later, the door opened again and an eighth man entered, dragging Elliot with him.

Tak tried not to react when he saw his friend, but it was nearly impossible. Elliot had clearly been tortured, blood soaked his clothes from the numerous cuts scattered across his body. His head had a large bloody wound that dripped down his face and he kept blinking as he attempted to keep it from dripping into his eye. And as he shuffled toward the other men, Tak noticed the way he favored his left side and winced slightly with every step.

Despite the danger if someone noticed, you discreetly slipped your hand into his and gave it a tight squeeze. He squeezed it back as tightly as he could, as if clinging to you hard enough could keep you by his side.

Yet, as per the instructions, you then took three steps forward, forcing Tak to release your hand for what was likely the last time. He noticed a single tear rolling down your cheek, but you didn’t move to wipe it away in the fear that it would draw attention to it. One of the men shoved Elliot forward and the two of you began walking toward the center of the space.

As you passed Elliot, Tak could just make out the sound of you whispering softly to him, “I’m so sorry. You should have never been involved with this.” But before he could respond, both of you had passed one another.

When Elliot made it across the room, he collapsed into Tak’s arms. Tak was caught off guard but managed to grab him in time. Up close, his injuries seemed even worse than Tak had initially thought but it didn’t look like anything that wouldn’t heal given time.

Tak glanced up just in time to see you make it to the other side of the warehouse. One of the men roughly grabbed your face between his fingers and shook you violently before throwing you to the floor. Your soft cry of pain made Tak see red. He was about to drop Elliot and draw his gun when he caught your gaze. Still laying on the floor, tears welling up in your eyes, you gently shook your head. You could tell what he was about to do and you were asking him not to.

So, he remained where he was. But as the men grabbed your arms, hauled you to your feet, and began shoving you toward the door, Tak made a silent promise to you. Despite what you had asked of him, despite your fears, he would come for you. And he would bring you back home with him.

Taglist: @nik2blog, @dumb-fawkin-bitch, @shirley2996

#whumptober #whumptober 2022 #whumptober2022 #fic #no.20 #no.26 #prisoner trade #separated #takeshi kovacs #takeshi kovacs x reader #takeshi kovacs x you #altered carbon #vernon elliot #joel kinnaman #angst #mentions of violence tw #abusive situation tw

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a-reader-and-a-writer · 2 years

Text

Impossible Situation

As if reading his thoughts, you rested your head against his shoulder and said, “It’s okay, Tak. We’ll just follow the instructions and everything will be fine.”

“How is any of this ‘fine’?” he snarled. “How did I ever agree to any of this?”

“Because you didn’t have a choice,” you whispered, rubbing your hand gently across his back.

But now he was willingly giving you back to them. To the people who had essentially killed you over and over again for almost a century. And when he had told you about it, you had agreed instantly.

And now here you were, waiting for your family to take you away from him. Tak had already lost so many people he loved in his life, he wasn’t sure how he was supposed to live with losing you too.

Drawing you into his arms, Tak leaned over and nuzzled his nose against your ear as he whispered, “I’ll come for you, I swear.”

But you quickly pulled away so you could turn to face him. Staring deeply into his eyes, you said, “If you love me, you won’t.”

“What? Why would I not try to save you from them?”

Tag List: @babblydrabbly, @loverhymeswith, @bewitchedignition, @lacontroller1991, @mayhem24-7forever, @11thstreetvigilante, @sociiallydiisoriiented, @merlehs, @sunshineflowerchild789, @heresathreebee, @yespolkadotkitty, @green-socks, @shanimallina87, @katjnordstrom96, @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy

#whumptober #whumptober2022 #whumptober 2022 #fic #no.20 #no.26 #prisoner trade #separated #takeshi kovacs #takeshi kovacs x reader #takeshi kovacs x you #altered carbon #vernon elliot #joel kinnaman #angst #mentions of violence tw #abusive situation tw

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violetmuses · 2 years

Text

Reflections - Takeshi Kovacs + Female Reader 🖤

STORYLINE: Takeshi Kovacs earns his reputation as one of the wealthiest businessmen. When begrudgingly needing to hire a personal assistant, his life might change forever after meeting you.

J Krew: @nerdysuperchick @a-reader-and-a-writer @babblydrabbly @lacontroller1991 @shadowkittybucky @loverhymeswith @justin-hammers @weallhaveadestiny @xoxabs88xox @katjnordstrom96 @mayhem24-7forever @lilisangel @skvatnavle @sociiallydiisoriiented @heresathreebee @alieninoklahoma @bewitchedignition @maddu-oliveira @reveluving @sugapapichulo @hodgepodge-of-rog @ijustthinkrickflagisprettyneat @ed-baldwin

Reflections || Chapter 1

Reflections || Chapter 2

Reflections || Chapter 3

Reflections || Chapter 4

Reflections || Chapter 5

#ceo au #au fanfiction #au fic #au #takeshi kovacs x you #takeshi kovacs x reader #slow burn #joel kinnaman fanfiction #joel kinnaman #altered carbon fanfiction #netflix altered carbon #altered carbon #modern au #smoking gif tw

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lovearne · 2 years

Note

"I should have left you bleeding to your death." Maybe this with Tak?

Takeshi kovacs x gn reader

This is set in the 10th episode of season 1.

Warnings: angst, breakups, mention of blood

Word count: 400+

"So this is it? You're leaving?"

Tak had just gotten back from going to see Ortega, and now he came for you. He had to tell you and say goodbye. He wasn't long for this body.

"I have to find her. She's still alive somewhere." His tone was even, yet firm, he wasn't leaving any room for you to attempt talking him out of it.

"Fuck that, if she's alive out there and left you for 250 years, then she can fuck herself!" Takeshi had come back just to tell you he was leaving, that you were never going to see him again. He was going to look for Quell Falconer, the love of his life.

"You don't understand, I watched her die, I saw her explode. That ripped my heart to shreds." He was walking toward you with his hands open. "I'm sorry that I'm hurting you but, I love her more than anything, and I need her back."

"What about me?" You push him back, tossing his arms to his side. "What about me?" You can no longer hide the tears in your eyes. "I thought you loved me." The tears had started to come down. Tak's face never changed though.

"I never loved you. You just stupidly fell in love with me." You hit his chest as he tries to hug you again, pushing and Slapping at it.

"Why are you still here then!? Shouldn't you be out looking for the only person you care about?!" Tak grabs you by the waist and pulls you into his chest. "What are you doing?" He hushed you.

"I'm giving you a goodbye hug," he rubs your back, kissing the top of your head. "It's for closure." The fat tears were rolling down your face.

"I should have left you bleeding to your death" Tak knows that when you are upset you say things you don't mean. You don't understand your emotions very well, and when someone hurts you you bite back.

"Yeah," his voice stayed normal, but a tear streamed down his face too. "You probably should have." He pulls away from you, kissing your forehead and then leaving the room. It hurt to know that you'd never see him again, but it hurt more because he left you for someone he doesn't even know is still kicking.

#takeshi kovacs x reader #takeshi kovacs #joel kinnaman x reader #joel kinnaman #joel kinnaman x you #altered carbon #request #blurb #arne writes

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drabbles-mc · 4 months

Text

Small Price to Pay

Takeshi Kovacs x F!Reader

Summary: In the wake of another close call, Takeshi finds himself once again fighting the urge to pull away from you for your own sake. Not that you've ever been one to let go that easily.

Warnings: 18+, language, blood/injury, angst with a happy ending

Word Count: 2k

A/N: I've been wanting to write more for Takeshi and when I got hit with this idea I just couldn't turn my back on it. Hope you enjoy!

Altered Carbon Taglist: @garbinge @destinedtobeloved (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

Consciousness tore through you, ripping you down the middle with a gasp that faded into coughs that racked your whole body. You were sitting upright without remembering bracing yourself into that position, each ragged and failed breath sending a lash of pain across your abdomen and into your limbs. You were looking around the room before your vision had completely righted itself. Whether it was disorientation or tears that were making things fuzzy, you weren’t sure. All you knew was that nothing looked clear, nothing felt right.

Blinking your way into clearer vision, you hardly even noticed that the tears were on your cheeks now. You were finally able to take a few regular breaths between coughs, not that it helped your pain subside at all. The room you were in faded into the background as you reached up and touched your own face, feeling for something, anything familiar. All you felt was pain, bruises and open cuts—not the right type of familiarity. Holding your hands out in front of you, some of the tension that you’d so suddenly picked up dissipated. Hands and arms that you recognized. A body that was yours, well, as much as anyone’s body was really their own anymore.

When you felt a hand on your shoulder, you jerked yourself away as best you could, sending yourself into another coughing fit in the process, pain radiating all throughout your body. It was all for nothing—the hand didn’t budge. If anything, its grip tightened, fingers digging into the exposed flesh of your shoulder. It was painful but somewhere in the back of your mind you were aware of the fact that it was the only thing keeping you upright.

“Hey, hey,” he finally spoke up, voice low and rough wrapping around you to help steady you. “You’re alright.”

Clutching his hand with your own, you turned your head to look at him. Takeshi’s face was almost always neutral, feelings always buried a few layers deep under the skin of whatever sleeve he was wearing at the time. Since that was the case, the only coherent thought you could conjure up was that you must’ve looked like you were in even worse shape than you felt, his lips pulled down into a deep frown, worry swirling around his eyes. The tight pinch of his brows undermined his attempt at reassurance.

“Talk to me,” he tried to make it not sound like an order, but it didn’t really work.

“Tak?” was all you managed to get out, your voice hoarse, throat like sandpaper.

His shoulders sagged in relief at the singular word. He let out a deep breath as his hand slid from your shoulder up the side of your throat until he was cupping the side of your face. His thumb was beneath your chin, pressing into it just slightly to tilt your head to make you look up at him. No matter how light his touch was, you could feel the pressure on each bruise and cut on your face. You wanted to pull away from the pain but you couldn’t make yourself pull away from him.

He was in better shape than you, although that wasn’t saying much. There were fewer bruises on his face, and with the dark cloth of his shirt you couldn’t really see or get a good idea of the damage done on that front. You wanted to ask, but you didn’t have it in you. You leaned into the touch of his palm instead, never mind the blood you were smearing onto it.

He watched the way your eyes fluttered shut, the way that you pressed into his touch despite the way it made you wince in pain. Your breathing still hadn’t steadied, but at least you were breathing. There had been a moment when he thought that he’d lost you. Maybe not forever, because real death was hard to come by. But he thought for a moment that he’d be left to carry your stack on a chain around his neck until further notice, until he could get his hands on a new sleeve. And you always hated that, hated the turnover. He liked to chastise you, call you sentimental in a world that had no infrastructure for that anymore. Deep down though he had a certain type of respect for it—not that he’d ever tell you if e could help it. He had lost track of how long you’d been in your current sleeve. Clearly it’d been long enough for him to forget. He didn’t want to see it change either. Maybe your sentimental nature was finally becoming contagious.

“Hey,” he finally spoke up again, glad that your eyes were closed and you couldn’t see the tidal wave of emotions cascading across his face, “we’ll get you patched up, alright?”

You managed a nod, not bothering to speak as you let your head fall from his hand until your forehead was resting against the planes of muscle that ran up his side. You could feel each breath he took that way, keenly aware of every one as his hand came to rest on the back of your head, fingers splaying.

After a few long, silent minutes passed that way, you tried to clear your throat and speak again. It hurt a little less the second time around. “Split your nose open again,” you told him, eyes still closed, face still pressed against him.

He let out a short chuckle. “Split open more than just your nose.”

You wanted to laugh but you knew that it would hurt more than it was worth. You managed a low hum of amusement instead. “How bad?”

“How bad’s it feel?”

The momentary sting of leaning deeper into him was worth the payoff of being closer. “Pretty fucking bad.”

“Yeah.”

“You have to bring me back?”

He sucked in a deep breath—you could feel the impending sigh before you actually heard it. “Yeah. You can’t fuckin’ do that to me anymore.”

You couldn’t fight the laugh that time, and you paid the price for it. “It’s not like I set out with that goal in mind, you know.”

He pulled away from you, much to your disappointment. His hand was instantly coming to cup your jaw, movements gentle and firm all at once as he made you look up and into his eyes. The traces of humor that had been lingering between you were gone—you could see it in his eyes.

He shook his head slightly as he started to speak. “I can do the rest of this on my—”

“Tak,” you cut him off, the smolder of anger blooming in the pit of your stomach no match for the burning pain you were in, but you could still feel the difference.

“I’m serious.”

You wished you had the strength to yell. “So am I.”

“Look at you,” he said, helpless in a way he hardly ever was.

“I’m fine.” He scoffed and you corrected yourself. “I’ll be fine. If I gotta trade in—”

“No,” his tone was harsh, more than he had intended.

You flinched, not expecting it from him. “It’s just a sleeve,” you tried to reason.

“It’s the first thing you look for every time you come back,” he argued.

It was true. Before you cared about your surroundings, or the people with you, you looked to see if you were still the same person you were when the lights went out. Tak had worked overtime to make sure you always woke up recognizing the person in your reflection. You figured it was a professional courtesy, if nothing else something to make his life easier so that he didn’t have to hear you lament about it. This was the first time it ever sounded like he actually cared.

“Like it even matters to you,” you muttered.

“It matters to you,” he said, sincerity dripping from his words in a way you couldn’t ignore or deny.

“Know what else matters to me?” you asked, voice sounding more assured as your mind and body started to get back into sync with each other.

He already knew where it was going. “Don’t.”

There were things that you wanted to say that you wouldn’t. Things that he knew without you having to say them out loud. The look in his eyes said it all, and you were willing to settle for that for now. “We came this far. I’m not,” you lifted your chin from his hand so that you could clasp it with your own, “I’m not leaving you now. And you’re not leaving me.”

He knew even when he started the conversation that it was going to end this way. But he still had to try. Truthfully he didn’t actually want to do the rest of this without you, but that was the selfish part of him talking. That was the part of him that he tried to kill a long time ago but couldn’t ever quite manage it. So onward you two went. But every close call became a heavier and heavier weight resting on his shoulders. Each time it got a little harder to stomach. He never could make himself take off in the dead of night on you, though. You’d probably find him anyway—limp your way to him no matter how many miles or years stood between you.

You could see it in his eyes that even though he was looking at you, his mind busier with much more than just taking in how you looked. You squeezed his hand. “We can lay low here for a beat?”

He nodded. “Until you’re ready.”

It was a relief, to say the least. You sighed, letting your head drop back a little bit and ignoring the pain in your neck. You stared at him for a moment, wishing you could read his mind. Resigning yourself to the fact that you weren’t quite that adept, you kissed his knuckles and asked, “Patch me up?”

He ends of his mouth turned up just slightly, enough to erase the deep frown he’d been sporting for most of the conversation. “Yeah.” He leaned in, leaving a quick, soft kiss on top of your head before pulling away to grab his bag with all his gear. “Gonna have to do it, you know…” he trailed off and held up the thread and needle.

“Old school,” you offered with a weary chuckle.

He was shaking his head at you but you could see the way that his lips pulled up just a little bit more. You watched him as he sat down and started to lay out what precious little he would need to stitch you up and put you back together again.

The two of you had done this dance together so many times neither of you even had to think about it anymore. Your bodies were roadmaps that the other knew every inch of, even the parts that were left uncharted by everyone else. You could recite his scars from memory, find them with your eyes closed, with this sleeve and all the others. If anyone asked him, he could tell them where the two of you were for each stitch and patch job that kept your body together—on the run, in alleyways, in haunts much shadier than that of The Raven, he could recall them all like they were fables from childhood.

He started with the laceration that went across half of your forehead. You closed your eyes, not that it really made all that much of a difference. He cleaned it as best he could before setting about stitching you up. It was too familiar to both of you for him to bother giving you a warning. You winced at the initial puncture, hand darting out and gripping tightly onto his knee.

The pain didn’t lessen as he went along, when he moved from one wound to the next. It was a silent affair, a careful brand of intimacy that required no words and sparing eye contact. It was just his hands on your skin, you trusting that he was doing the right thing no matter how much it hurt. On another day the roles would be reversed and you would be doing the same for him. It would sting and burn him the same way it did you, but the pain was a small price to pay to be alive. It was a small price to pay to wake up each time with someone you trusted.

#altered carbon #altered carbon fanfiction #takeshi kovacs #takeshi kovacs x reader #takeshi kovacs x you #x reader #x reader fic #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc

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reveluving · 2 years

Note

And this with tak

looking at your crush or lover only to find them already looking at you and when you make eye contact, they smile at you.

love again ; takeshi kovacs x reader

warnings: implied (post) smut + fluff

a/n: I'll never get over the 'broody person only soft for their love' dynamic aaand, this is a part of my upcoming Takeshi fic! don’t forget to leave some sugar! ᐠ( ᐛ )ᐟ

» from this prompt , come & check out my m.list!

'to reassure you that he didn't fight for his life this long and suddenly find you for nothing,' ;

You should've been wide awake when you realized how different the bed sheets felt. They were softer, extravagant even, like it belonged somewhere fancy. Initially, you thought nothing of it — long working hours were nothing new to you, so, passing out on wherever your aching body could rest on as soon as you'd reach home was common.

Now that you're gaining consciousness, however, you were too stunned to move.

Why?

Someone was in that bed with you, and that person wasn't just anybody.

Mustering up the courage to open your eyes, you were met with the room's gothic interior — the gloomy yet charming environment, the antique-looking furniture and the ever-changing neon lights shining from the frosted windows.

This wasn't your unit at all, although, you couldn't say you've never seen this place before. Hoping to remember what had happened, you tried to sit up, only to groan at the aches of your body, and this wasn't the usual aftermath from work, either.

You tried your best, though, raising your upper body further with your right arm.

Then, movements happened right beside you.

You didn't know whether to roll over on your back or skedaddle.

In midst of thinking, you noticed the little white cloth hanging by the nightstand — a pretty lace panties.

Your pretty lace panties.

Then, everything finally dawned on you.

Takeshi.

The reunion.

What you initially thought was a handsome stranger in your room, only to discover that it was actually your childhood best friend.

Your heart and soul.

Your long-lost love.

What started out as a wholesome reunion, only to escalate by how much you mean to him and vice versa with a night of passion.

High-pitched moans and deep groans rang in your head, prompting your skin to heat up at the mere remembrance of it.

You fiddled with the sheets, hoping this wasn't a dream or some sad imagination because you were missing him too much.

But, in the middle of your crisis came bashfulness.

Not only did you realize how bare you were, you basically did the thing with him, and details were coming in.

You weren't sure whether to giggle like a schoolgirl or scream because of how unreal everything seemed.

You yelped at the feeling of his calloused hand rubbing up and down the small of your back.

"You're awake," Considering how he naturally has a warm baritone voice, one could imagine how deeper his morning voice was. You had no doubt he noticed how you shivered at the sound of it, "I didn't tire you out too much, did I?"

You debated whether or not to turn around — your lack of response only had him tense.

"Hey," Takeshi began slowly, "You feelin' okay?"

He waited for your response. Funnily enough, if he was dealing with anyone else, he’d practically be a ticking time bomb. But, for you, he understood that this was a lot to take in.

Having to say goodbye each time you'd see one another.

Now, you're in the same room — in the same bed as him, and he's not willing to let you go. Not again.

You turned your head back ever-so-slowly, only to freeze up as soon as your eyes locked.

Oh, but there was more.

A smile.

Well, between smile and a smirk was more appropriate, since anytime his lips were upturned pretty much looked like a smug look on his face.

This one was small, but genuine, like the glint of adoration in his eyes.

Only for you.

It is him.

Feeling shyer than ever, you looked down but did nothing to cover up since he, too, was in his birthday suit. Your attempts didn't last, though, for he brought his hand up and gently cupped your chin. Tilting it enough so you'd get the idea to look at him. You nuzzled into his touch, unable to control the single tear rolling down your cheek when he wiped it off with his thumb.

"You're okay," His heart clenched at the sight — if he had the opportunity to change things for the better, he would. Maybe things would've been different, maybe you and him would've ended up together even before the shit with the CTAC and Envoys and whatnot, "You're okay,"

But, none that mattered anymore, now that he was actually by your side. To reassure you that he didn't fight for his life this long and suddenly find you for nothing.

There'll be plenty of time to mess around, introduce you to the people who he tolerated (but will never admit as a 'friend').

Later, though.

He pulled you in closer, silently comforting you as he felt the weight he's held on his shoulders for so long lifting now that he has finally found you.

Safe in his arms.

˚ · . f i n . · ˚

» gorgeous rose divider by the amazing @firefly-graphics

#— reve's reverie 🌹#— reve's asks 🌹#takeshi kovacs x reader #takeshi kovacs x f!reader #takeshi kovacs x you #takeshi kovacs smut #takeshi kovacs fluff #altered carbon #joel kinnaman #joel kinnaman x reader

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endmeprettyplease · 2 years

Note

HC for Joel characters (which ever ones your comfortable with) taking care of sick reader????

Ahh! thank you for the ask! I hope you enjoy! Also I’m sorry I haven’t seen For All Mankind:( or else I would have included Ed.

Taking Care of Sick!Reader (Rick Flag, Takeshi Kovacs, Stephen Holder)

Rick:

With Rick gone on missions so often I believe he values the time he does get with you greatly. The first time he comes back from an OP and sees an “I’m sick:/” text, he forgets about how awful he smells from a week in the jungle. As well as how sore and tired he is. He’s immediately rushing to the pharmacy by your apartment, purchasing everything anyone would need for a cold or flu. Not even bothering to give you a call to ask what you meant by ‘sick’. When he finally arrives at your door he practically barges in, much to your amusement, dumping two bags of medications, canned soup and a jug of orange juice on your counter. I don’t think Rick would ever hesitate to kiss or cuddle you when you’re ill, in fact he’d encourage it. Loving the quiet and cozy domesticity of it all, loving feeling useful and needed. He’d heat up the soup, apologize, and comment on how it's “Not as good as his mom’s, but it’ll do the job.” He’s also completely un-phased by the idea of catching what you have.

I think the next time he leaves for a mission he’ll sniffle with a smile, bushing off a comment from Harley about how he’s looking even paler than her.

Takeshi:

When Takeshi is worried he gets defensive and irritable. When he’s worried about you? He’s borderline neurotic. So when he wakes to the sound of your choked off coughs coming from the bathroom he nearly takes the door off the hinges. Seeing you looking so pale, eyes and nose red he’s pissed. Angry that you're sick, but more angry that he can’t do anything about it. He reprimands you like it’s somehow your fault and yet tells Poe to have medication delivered to your room in the same breath. Takeshi will make you take whatever pills Poe says is best and tuck you into bed with a frown like a grumpy dad. He’ll press his lips to your temple under the guise of checking your temperature, telling you he knows this is just to avoid the stake out you were supposed to accompany him on. If you show any concern about him catching what you have Takeshi will roll his eyes and grumble that ‘Envoy’s don’t get sick’. When he goes out he totally won’t be watching the live feed of his room to make sure you’re resting, and he absolutely won’t forbid Poe from allowing you to leave the hotel if you try.

When he inevitably catches what you had, definitely don’t laugh or comment when he coughs. Just leave a glass of water and two cold tablets on his end table and pretend you didn’t notice he took them.

Stephen:

I recently re-watched The Killing, and for some reason I feel like Stephen would be terrified of catching your cold too. Don’t get me wrong, he’s still great support and help. Just definitely ‘I’ve got your back…..from right over here’ vibes. You send him out for cough syrup and he’s coming back with 3 different kinds, trying to talk you into using a neti pot with some weird herbs he’s sure will cure you. Stephen is absolutely making homemade chicken noodle soup with extra chili flakes and lemon to ‘clear’ your sinuses. Good luck asking for a snuggle and don’t even think about a kiss. He shows his love in so many other ways you don’t really mind though. Fawning over you, fluffing pillows and tracking your temperature. Anything you need, he’s on it.

If he does get sick? Let’s say that the whole “no kiss, no cuddle” rule goes out the window. He’s like a big whiny cat who wants to live on your lap. You might need to take a day or two off work.

#rick flag x you #rick flag #rick flag x reader #takeshi kovacs #takeshi kovacs x reader #takeshi kovacs x you #the suicide squad #altered carbon #the killing #stephen holder #stephen holder x reader #stephen holder x you #joel kinnaman x reader #headcanon

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that-sarcastic-writer · 8 months

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🎃🌹Lia's Kinktober writer appreciation🎃🌹

I want to try something for kinktober.

So I won't do your typical 30 day writing prompt thing. I wish I had the time. But I don't. So ill do something objectively better. I want to do a masterlist of smut work of different writers (not just my mutuals) so kinda kinktober writer appreciation. Yall do amazing work and that needs to be appreciated

I'll add the details below.

Starting September 20th until October 15th I'll be compiling a list of smut fics I find under various character tags. And you are welcome (and encouraged) to rec me your favorite smut authors/fics. You can either dm the link or just shoot me an ask. If you are, in fact, a writer, you are very encouraged to send me your own work (like please I would love to read your masterpieces). You are also welcome to tag me in your work.

I'll list some qualifications below (pairings, characters and no-nos for me)

I ask that all fics are x readers (no character ships), fem or gender neutral only (I don't feel comfortable reading mlm smut as I am a straight woman myself). No incest/pseudo-incest, no rape, sexual assault or non-con (unless it's cnc). Those are my only limits. I'll read anything at least once.

You must be 18+ to participate. Whether that is to include your fic in the masterlist or if you're sending me (your age must be in your bio). I am an adult and I am not condoning minors in adult spaces nor interacting with mature work.

Character list:

Leon S Kennedy

Matt Murdock

Billy Russo

Frank Castle

Dean Winchester

Sam Winchester

Soldier Boy

Simon 'Ghost' Riley

Pedro Pascal characters (Javier Peña, Din Djarin, Joel Miller)

Rick Flag/Takeshi Kovacs (yes I still eat that shit up)

Miguel O'Hara

Thomas Shelby

*list might be updated in the future*

Mutuals only section

Because yall are my babes, and I read everything yall write, you can send me/tag me in any upcoming fic of yours (no matter which character), I'll happily read it and add it to the masterlist.

I'm ecstatic to see the wonders yall will come up with! Don't be shy! My inbox and dms are open for all writers.

Besitos

Tagging some of my writer/mutual babes @fluffyprettykitty @a-reader-and-a-writer @loverhymeswith @inklore @ovaryacted @agentwhiskeysdarlin @charnelhouse @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @littlestatesman @wayward-dreamer @gyllenhaalstories @1800-fight-me @witchisenpai

#lia's kinktober rec list #lia's kinktober writer appreciation #lia's writer appreciation #signal boost!

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loverhymeswith · 2 years

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For the 300 follower celebration, with the characters from People Disappear Here, the prompt "Is this the part where you kick me out?" Please and thank you! 💖

Kill Me Slow With Every Kiss | Takeshi Kovacs x F!Reader

People Disappear Here

Summary: Your first kiss with Takeshi Kovacs

Warnings: Kissing

Word count: 459 words

The instant your lips collide, everything goes quiet.

Every moment you’ve ever shared with Kovacs comes rushing back. All those late nights in the office, the hours spent on stakeouts in his cramped car. You pride yourself on your attention to detail, so how did you miss this? How did you underestimate the depth of his feelings for you?

There will be time to kick yourself later though, because with his broad hand cupping the back of your neck and his tongue carefully parting your lips, your body and mind dissolve away to nothing under the weight of his touch.

It’s gentle, but demanding, the way Kovacs kisses you. You shouldn’t be surprised. His stubble scratches your skin but his lips are soft, softer than you could have ever imagined. There’s a quiet desperation there, too. This beautiful man is kissing you like you’re the oxygen he needs to survive, and damn it, but it’s enough to steal your own breath.

Timidly, your fingers rise from his jaw to card through the silken strands of hair that have fallen over his brow. He moans against your mouth, the sound spreading heat throughout your body. It’s entirely possible you will burst into flames at any moment. His touch is the catalyst after all those months of secret, smouldering desire.

How long have you dreamt of this? How many times have you stared across the desk and wondered what it might feel like to kiss him? If you’d known the feeling was mutual, would you have waited this long?

Your first kiss is infinite, yet not enough and when Kovacs finally releases you, already you’re craving more. Lips swollen and eyes wide, your hands drop to his jacket, fingers clutching the fabric like a lifeline.

Kovacs is equally as startled. His dark gaze sweeps over you in that same, assessing way as earlier. But there’s no promise of violence in his expression, not anymore. Forcing yourself to meet his deep hazel eyes, you find a mixture of fear and wonder looking back at you.

“Is this the part where you kick me out?” The usual confidence in your voice is missing, replaced by worry. You’re only partly joking.

“Kick you out?” Kovacs shakes his head, words low and raw and laced with disbelief. His large hand caresses your cheek. “This is the part where I tell you I’m never letting you go."

You blink once, twice, as you attempt to register what he’s saying, what he means.

Realising that you are lost for words, he tilts his head so your foreheads are touching again. His nose nudges against yours and he whispers your name like a prayer.

“How can I ever let you go? I don’t know how I survived this long without you.”

Joel Taglist: @a-reader-and-a-writer @babblydrabbly @skvatnavle @yespolkadotkitty @bewitchedignition @sociiallydiisoriiented @heresathreebee @mayhem24-7forever @immyownlittlebitch @s-u-t @phoenixhalliwell @weallhaveadestiny @lavenderluna10 @katjnordstrom96 @kirsteng42 @fairchildflag @edwardbaldwin

#Takeshi Kovacs #joel kinnaman #takeshi kovacs x you #altered carbon #altered carbon fanfic #takeshi kovacs x reader #people disappear here #follower milestone

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lacontroller1991 · 2 years

Text

Bionic Exile: Chapter 13

Series Master List // Personal Master List

Summary: Tak returns home to you and Rick.

Coauthor: @yelenas-lova

Warnings: language

Word Count: 1035

Author's Note: Short but sweet conclusion! Thank you to everyone who has continued to stay with the series from the beginning through the hiatus to now! We really appreciate it!

==========

Takeshi’s thoughts run wild. What had the man done to him? Why wasn’t he prepared for it? Is that not the whole series of training modules he went through with Quell? If so, why was he not able to differentiate being under to the real world? The wind from the open cargo door blows his dirty hair wildly as his gaze pierces his feet. Do you really think he’s a monster? He knows it was just a hallucination, but if you know the truth about everything in his past, would that dream become a reality? Would you say the same thing?

Harley nudges Takeshi, causing Tak to look up and slowly come back to reality before looking at his teammate. “Yes?”

“Are ya okay sweetums? Still under the evil man’s spell?” Her works come out in a joking tone, but Takeshi does not have the emotional capacity to respond in kind.

“It’s none of your business,” it’s harsh and Harley quickly sinks back in her seat. Him and Rick have that in common, she thinks to herself as she turns to look away, well aware of Takeshi sighing next to her. “Look, I’m sorry. It’s just… It’s just this mission went very differently than how I pictured it would. I was not expecting any of that to happen.” Silence. “Thank you for getting me back.”

Harley’s eyes widen at his apology. It had taken Rick years to learn to apologize to his team and it’s taken Tak one day. Fidgeting in her seat, she waves him off. “It’s not a problem! Just doin’ my job!”

The tarmac is empty except for a handful of medics, you and Rick. Before Corto Maltese there would be security guards in place, ready to take the inmates back in restraints, but now, they’re free to do as they please once they finish a mission.

Rick watches the way your hands tug at each other, a sign of the nerves. You don’t know what kind of shape Tak is in. Not after what you'd seen of the mission before losing the camera feed. You don’t know if he’s hurt or if he’s ok. If he’s dead or alive. Smiling softly at your antics, Rick takes your hands in his and kisses your knuckles, distracting you from the carrier landing. “He’s okay, darlin’. He’s okay.”

You look up to Rick through your eyelashes as a smile starts to etch its way on your face. “Have I ever told you how much I love you?”

Rick chuckles, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and bringing you into his frame as he presses a kiss to the top of your head. “Once or twice,” he pulls away as one by one the members of the Suicide Squad leave the plane. His hazel eyes immediately find Takeshi’s tall frame, causing him to pull away from you. “Go greet him. I’ll make a call for some food for us.”

You tear your eyes away from your boyfriend to look at your other one as you squeeze Rick’s hand. “Chinese?”

“We’ll see about it. Now go before he drags you away.” You give his hand one last squeeze before rushing toward the Envoy.

----------

The light blinds Tak as he steps off the aircraft and not a second later a force knocks him back a step. “Oh Kesh!” Smelling the familiar scent of your perfume, Tak immediately wraps his arms around you as your legs wrap around his waist. The two of you stay wrapped in each other’s arms for a minute before he sets you down only to take your face in his hands and press his forehead against yours, emotions threatening to spill out. “Kesh? Everything okay?”

He’s quick to nod but you don’t miss the way his lip slightly quivers. “Oh sweetheart. What’s wrong?”

“I just missed you. Missed you so fucking much,” his lips crash to yours as the world around him stops and damn it feels good to be back in your arms.

Surprised by his action, your hands wind behind his neck and anchor him down as your lips dance in tandem with his; love pouring between the two of you.

“Awwww, aren’t you two just the cutest.”

“Quinn, leave them alone.”

“Oh come on Flag, look at them. Aren’t they cute?” Rick chuckles as he shoos her away, giving you and Tak some privacy as you finally break apart. Tak takes a moment to collect himself by staring in your eyes before he straightens up and faces Rick who remains a respectable distance from the two of you.

Rick is the first to make a move, extending his hand toward Takeshi with a knowing look on his face. “How was it?”

Your arm wraps around Tak’s waist as your other one wraps around Rick’s, making the handshake awkward for the two men. Takeshi still shakes his hand nonetheless. “Not going to lie, it was rough, really rough.” Rick nods in understanding as you look up at your two lovers.

“Well, I’m glad you made it back safely. Did you succeed?”

Takeshi makes a notion to where DuBois hands Waller the device. “That weapon needs to be destroyed.” Rick and you quickly look over and notice the glove still glowing a slight purple as it’s placed into a safe. “It’s powerful. Really powerful.”

“What did it do?” You ask as Tak shakes his head, clearly not wanting to talk about it. Dropping the subject, you squeeze both men causing them to look down at you. “Well, I’m hungry. Did you call that Chinese place, Rick?”

“Well, I wanted to wait to see what Tak wants.”

“Chinese sounds good to me.”

“Great, and then we can watch movies and cuddle and go to bed,” you start to ramble about all the things the three of you can do as Rick and Tak smile in unison.

“Whatever you want, darlin’.” “Sleep does sound amazing right now.”

You stop your movements as you look up at the two men, your heart fluttering like a love sick teenager. “I love you both, so much.” You take turns kissing each of their cheeks as they blush.

“I love you too, princess.” “I love you too, darlin’.”

-fin-

Bionic Exile Tag List: @kingtwhiddleston @taternuts @strawberriebabbles @nerdysuperchick @inthetikiroom @taylorgasmtpr @saritanotserena @blackrose53666 @more-cardigan-than-woman

General Tag List/Joel Tag List: @marvelousmermaid @himbovillain-anon @babblydrabbly @a-reader-and-a-writer @fairchildflag @infatuatedjanes @niki-xie @aestheticallywinchester @loverhymeswith @xoxabs88xox @t-i-n-y-d-i-n-o @the1redrose @ratcatcher2world @green-socks @heart-0n-fire @weallhaveadestiny @yourjacketisnowdry @rachelh1992 @a-girl-who-loves-disney @knivesareout @bubblegloopswampwitch @waspswidows @burntghoost @mattymurdocksbitch @katjnordstrom96 @bb-skyrunner @edwardbaldwin @yespolkadotkitty @heresathreebee @klmurr @madkovacs @wxr-zxne @wtfobiwan @alieninoklahoma

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