#this nearly made my computer crash | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

colleendoran · 3 months

Text

Great Big Good Omens Graphic Novel Update

AKA A Visit From Bildad the Shuhite.

The past year or so has been one long visit from this guy, whereupon he smiteth my goats and burneth my crops, woe unto the woeful cartoonist.

Gaze upon the horror of Bildad the Shuhite.

You kind of have to be a Good Omens fan to get this joke, but trust me, it's hilarious.

Anyway, as a long time Good Omens novel fan, you may imagine how thrilled I was to get picked to adapt the graphic novel.

Go me!

This is quite a task, I have to say, especially since I was originally going to just draw (and color) it, but I ended up writing the adaptation as well. Tricky to fit a 400 page novel into a 160-ish page graphic novel, especially when so much of the humor is dependent on the language, and not necessarily on the visuals.

Not complainin', just sayin'.

Anyway, I started out the gate like a herd of turtles, because right away I got COVID which knocked me on my butt.

And COVID brain fog? That's a thing. I already struggle with brain fog due to autoimmune disease, and COVID made it worse.

Not complainin' just sayin'.

This set a few of the assignments on my plate back, which pushed starting Good Omens back.

But hey, big fat lead time! No worries!

Then my computer crawled toward the grave.

My trusty MAC Pro Tower was nearly 15 years old when its sturdy heart ground to a near-halt with daily crashes. I finally got around to doing some diagnostics; some of its little brain actions were at 5% functionality. I had no reliable backups.

There are so many issues with getting a new computer when you haven't had a new computer or peripherals in nearly fifteen years and all of your software, including your Photoshop program is fifteen years old.

At the time, I was still on rural internet...which means dial-up speed.

Whatever you have for internet in the city, roll that clock back to about 2001.

That's what I had. I not only had to replace almost all of my hardware but I had to load and update all programs at dial-up speed.

Welcome to my gigabyte hell.

The entire process of replacing the equipment and programs took weeks and then I had to relearn all the software.

All of this was super expensive in terms of money and time cost.

But I was not daunted! Nosirree!

I still had a huge lead time! I can do anything! I have an iron will!

And boy, howdy, I was going to need it.

At about the same time, a big fatcat quadrillionaire client who had hired me years ago to develop a big, major transmedia project for which I was paid almost entirely in stock, went bankrupt leaving everyone holding the bag, and taking a huge chunk of my future retirement fund with it.

I wrote a very snarky almost hilarious Patreon post about it, but am not entirely in a position to speak freely because I don't want to get sued. Even though I had to go to court over it, (and I had to do that over Zoom at dial-up speed,) I'm pretty sure I'll never get anything out of this drama, and neither will anyone else involved, except millionaire dude and his buddies who all walked away with huge multi-million dollar bonuses weeks before they declared bankruptcy, all the while claiming they would not declare bankruptcy.

Even the accountant got $250,000 a month to shut down the business, while creators got nothing.

That in itself was enough drama for the year, but we were only at February by that point, and with all those months left, 2023 had a lot more to throw at me.

Fresh from my return from my Society of Illustrators show, and a lovely time at MOCCA, it was time to face practical medical issues, health updates, screening, and the like. I did my adult duty and then went back to work hoping for no news, but still had a weird feeling there would be news.

I know everyone says that, but I mean it. I had a bad feeling.

Then there was news.

I was called back for tests and more tests. This took weeks. The ubiquitous biopsy looked, even to me staring at the screen in real time, like bad news.

It also hurt like a mofo after the anesthesia wore off. I wasn't expecting that.

Then I got the official bad news.

Cancer which runs in my family finally got me. Frankly, I was surprised I didn't get it sooner.

Stage 0, and treatment would likely be fast and complication-free. Face the peril, get it over with, and get back to work.

I requested surgery months in the future so I could finish Good Omens first, but my doc convinced me the risk of waiting was too great. Get it done now.

"You're really healthy," my doc said. Despite an auto-immune issue which plagues me, I am way healthier than the average schmoe of late middle age. She informed me I would not even need any chemo or radiation if I took care of this now.

So I canceled my appearance at San Diego Comic Con. I did not inform the Good Omens team of my issues right away, thinking this would not interfere with my work schedule, but I did contact my agent to inform her of the issue. I also contacted a lawyer to rewrite my will and make sure the team had access to my digital files in case there were complications.

Then I got back to work, and hoped for the best.

Eff this guy.

Before I could even plant my carcass on the surgery table, I got a massive case of ocular shingles.

I didn't even know there was such a thing.

There I was, minding my own business. I go to bed one night with a scratchy eye, and by 4 PM the next day, I was in the emergency room being told if I didn't get immediate specialist treatment, I was in big trouble.

I got transferred to another hospital and got all the scary details, with the extra horrid news that I could not possibly have cancer surgery until I was free of shingles, and if I did not follow a rather brutal treatment procedure - which meant super-painful eye drops every half hour, twenty-four hours a day and daily hospital treatment - I could lose the eye entirely, or be blinded, or best case scenario, get permanent eye damage.

What was even funnier (yeah, hilarity) is the drops are so toxic if you don't use the medication just right, you can go blind anyway.

Hi Ho.

Ulcer is on the right. That big green blob.

I had just finished telling my cancer surgeon I did not even really care about getting cancer, was happy it was just stage zero, had no issues with scarring, wanted no reconstruction, all I cared about was my work.

Just cut it out and get me back to work.

And now I wondered if I was going to lose my ability to work anyway.

Shingles often accompanies cancer because of the stress on the immune system, and yeah, it's not pretty. This is me looking like all heck after I started to get better.

The first couple of weeks were pretty demoralizing as I expected a straight trajectory to wellness. But it was up and down all the way.

Some days I could not see out of either eye at all. The swelling was so bad that I had to reach around to my good eye to prop the lid open. Light sensitivity made seeing out of either eye almost impossible. Outdoors, even with sunglasses, I had to be led around by the hand.

I had an amazing doctor. I meticulously followed his instructions, and I think he was surprised I did. The treatment is really difficult, and if you don't do it just right no matter how painful it gets, you will be sorry.

To my amazement, after about a month, my doctor informed me I had no vision loss in the eye at all. "This never happens," he said.

I'd spent a couple of weeks there trying to learn to draw in the near-dark with one eye, and in the end, I got all my sight back.

I could no longer wear contact lenses (I don't really wear them anyway, unless I'm going to the movies,) would need hard core sun protection for awhile, and the neuralgia and sun sensitivity were likely to linger. But I could get back to work.

I have never been more grateful in my life.

Neuralgia sucks, by the way, I'm still dealing with it months later.

Anyway, I decided to finally go ahead and tell the Good Omens team what was going on, especially since this was all happening around the time the Kickstarter was gearing up.

Now that I was sure I'd passed the eye peril, and my surgery for Stage 0 was going to be no big deal, I figured all was a go. I was still pretty uncomfortable and weak, and my ideal deadline was blown, but with the book not coming out for more than a year, all would be OK. I quit a bunch of jobs I had lined up to start after Good Omens, since the project was going to run far longer than I'd planned.

Everybody on the team was super-nice, and I was pretty optimistic at this time. But work was going pretty slow during, as you may imagine.

But again...lots of lead time still left, go me.

Then I finally got my surgery.

Which was not as happy an experience as I had been hoping for.

My family said the doc came out of the operating room looking like she'd been pulled backwards through a pipe, She informed them the tumor which looked tiny on the scan was "...huge and her insides are a mess."

Which was super not fun news.

Eff this guy.

The tumor was hiding behind some dense tissue and cysts. After more tests, it was determined I'd need another surgery and was going to have to get further treatments after all.

The biopsy had been really painful, but the discomfort was gone after about a week, so no biggee. The second surgery was, weirdly, not as painful as the biopsy, but the fatigue was big time.

By then, the Good Omens Kickstarter had about run its course, and the record-breaker was both gratifying and a source of immense social pressure.

I'd already turned most of my social media over to an assistant, and I'm glad I did.

But the next surgery was what really kicked me on my keister.

All in all, they took out an area the size of a baseball. It was hard to move and wiped me out for weeks and weeks. I could not take care of myself. I'd begun losing hair by this time anyway, and finally just lopped it off since it was too heavy for me to care for myself. The cut hides the bald spots pretty well.

After about a month, I got the go-ahead to travel to my show at the San Diego Comic Con Museum (which is running until the first week of April, BTW). I was very happy I had enough energy to do it. But as soon as I got back, I had to return to treatment.

Since I live way out in the country, going into the city to various hospitals and pharmacies was a real challenge. I made more than 100 trips last year, and a drive to the compounding pharmacy which produced the specialist eye medicine I could not get anywhere else was six hours alone.

Naturally, I wasn't getting anything done during this time.

But at least my main hospital is super swank.

The oncology treatment went smoothly, until it didn't. The feels don't hit you until the end. By then I was flattened.

So flattened that I was too weak to control myself, fell over, and smashed my face into some equipment.

Nearly tore off my damn nostril.

Eff this guy.

Anyway, it was a bad year.

Here's what went right.

I have a good health insurance policy. The final tally on my health care costs ended up being about $150,000. I paid about 18% of that, including insurance. I had a high deductible and some experimental medicine insurance didn't cover. I had savings, enough to cover the months I wasn't working, and my Patreon is also very supportive. So you didn't see me running a Gofundme or anything.

Thanks to everyone who ever bought one of my books.

No, none of that money was Good Omens Kickstarter money. I won't get most of my pay on that for months, which is just as well because it kept my taxes lower last year when I needed a break.

So, yay.

My nose is nearly healed. I opted out of plastic surgery, and it just sealed up by itself. I'll never be ready for my closeup, but who the hell cares.

I got to ring the bell.

I had a very, VERY hard time getting back to work, especially with regard to focus and concentration. My work hours dropped by over 2/3. I was so fractured and weak, time kept slipping away while I sat in the studio like a zombie. Most of the last six months were a wash.

I assumed focus issues were due (in part) to stress, so sought counseling. This seemed like a good idea at first, but when the counselor asked me to detail my issues with anxiety, I spent two weeks doing just that and getting way more anxious, which was not helpful.

After that I went EFF THIS NOISE, I want practical tools, not touchy feelies (no judgment on people who need touchy-feelies, I need a pragmatic solution and I need it now,) so tried using the body doubling focus group technique for concentration and deep work.

Within two weeks, I returned to normal work hours.

I got rural broadband, jumping me from dial up speed to 1 GB per second.

It's a miracle.

Massive doses of Vitamin D3 and K2. Yay.

The new computer works great.

The Kickstarter did so well, we got to expand the graphic novel to 200 pages. Double yay.

I'm running late, but everyone on the Good Omens team is super supportive. I don't know if I am going to make the book late or not, but if I do, well, it surely wasn't on purpose, and it won't be super late anyway. I still have months of lead time left.

I used to be something of a social media addict, but now I hardly ever even look at it, haven't been directly on some sites in over a year, and no longer miss it. It used to seem important and now doesn't.

More time for real life.

While I think the last year aged me about twenty years, I actually like me better with short hair. I'm keeping it.

OK. Rough year.

Not complainin', just sayin'.

Back to work on The Book.

And only a day left to vote for Good Omens, Neil Gaiman, and Sandman in the Comicscene Awards. Thanks.

#good omens graphic novel #good omens #terry pratchett #neil gaiman #dunmanifestin

2K notes · View notes

dilemmaontwolegs · 11 months

Text

Already Gone || MV1 {6}

Pairing: Max Verstappen x spy!fem!reader Summary: The brief moment of quiet comes to an end when Ferrari go on the attack for retribution. Warnings: 18+ only, oral, smut, violence WC: 2.7k

F1 Masterlist || One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven

You had fired the warning shot and there was nothing to be done but wait and see how Ferrari would respond to their stocks plummeting.

With no races for the next two weeks you had too much spare time that it left you itching to do something, anything. After years of living life on a whim, moving from place to place faster than Max with his DRS, all this time at home was taking some getting used to.

The house was tidy, the laundry was done, you even started to log into the dark web to see if there were any jobs waiting before realising that it wasn’t your job anymore. You were part of a small team that worked under the very loose term of security but reported directly to Christian. With Ferrari scrambling for sponsors to finance their team, it had been relatively quiet for you in recent weeks.

After pottering around in the kitchen you decided it was five o’clock somewhere in the world and broke out the blender. Armed with two cocktails, and nothing left to keep you busy while Max streamed, you made your way upstairs and decided to watch his race with the rest of the Redline team.

You saw his smile grow in the small box in the corner of his screen when he spotted you pass through the doorway behind him and he risked crashing as he steered with one hand so the other could pull you onto his lap.

“I wondered when you would get bored,” he commented as he continued leading the race.

“It seemed the perfect excuse for some day drinking,” you said as you held his glass up to his lips so he could take a sip as he steered.

“Oh fuck, that’s strong,” he said with a cough before taking another drink anyway.

The chat box started to go crazy with the amount of comments coming through and you scanned over them until one caught your eye and you snorted a laugh.

user1: Max, I hacked your computer and have your sex tape. Pay me €1m or I’ll release it.

“No one can get past my firewalls, but nice try!” you said before you leant towards the camera and childishly poked your tongue out.

“Babe, babe,” Max called as he shifted around trying to see the screen before his car crashed and he threw his hands in the air, nearly sending the drinks flying. “Ah, come on." His head dropped to your shoulder with a groan before he placed a quick kiss in the same spot. "Gianni says thanks.”

user2: Uh-oh! Someone’s in trouble now. user3: Y/N coming and ruining it for the rest of us.

“I was just giving the other guys a chance to win,” you said for the chat before turning to Max and kissing his cheek, “so your friends will still want to play with you.”

user4: such a mommy thing to say user5: Did everyone else miss the fact Y/N just confirmed they made a sex tape!

Since Max no longer needed his arms to drive, they curled around your waist as he read the comments with you, answering some questions along the way.

“No, we haven't…well, not on purpose,” he said as he saw the last comment. “I forget how many security cameras she has set up around the house and there’s always new ones, so it just happens.”

user3: Sounds like Y/N is keeping Max in prison. Blink twice if you need help.

His laugh teased your skin as he rested his chin on your shoulder and unplugged his headphones so you could hear Gianni and Diogo teasing him.

“Alright,” he cut them off with a roll of his eyes when they took things too far as always happened. “That's enough internet for one day, I’m going to go and get drunk with my lovely warden.”

“That’s sarcasm, for those about to call the police,” you pointed out as you held his bored face up to the camera. “I know it’s hard to tell with this stoic, handsome face.”

Max chuckled as he closed the platform and you shifted on his lap to get more comfortable. “Are there any videos?”

“Oh, without a doubt,” you confirmed after finishing your drink while you thought of all the places in the house you had gotten carried away with each other. “I haven’t actually checked though, but now I just might. Maybe I can make a video for when you’re away.”

“For you or for me?” he asked as his hands ran up your thighs slowly.

“I might share with you if you ask me nicely.”

The sim chair went sliding back before Max stood up with you in his arms and he navigated the hall to cage you beneath him on the bed. You could taste the gin on his tongue before he trailed his lips down your neck and across your collarbone.

“Is this you asking?”

He hummed his answer against your skin and his fingers popped the button on your jeans. “Nicely.”

“You certainly know how to get your way,” you praised, lifting your hips so he could drag them down your legs before you sat up just long enough to pull your shirt off.

“I learned from the best,” he teased with a wink before he tugged your body to the edge of the bed and fell to his knees between your spread legs. His breath was warm on your thighs and the short hairs that shadowed his cheeks left you writhing before his lips even made contact.

“Maxxxxx,” you whined as he kissed everywhere except where you needed it most.

“Yes?”

You pushed yourself up on your elbows so you could see the smirk on his lips. “This is not my definition of ‘nicely’.”

“Patience, liefje.”

“Patience was never my strongest virtue,” you warned before you used a move that was meant for close combat and ended with Max on his back on the carpet and you straddling his chest. “I want you.”

“I can see that,” he chuckled as his hands gripped your thighs and pulled you higher up his body, lining your centre with his lips. “Impatient little minx.”

You moaned as his tongue finally found your sweet spot after all the teasing and your hips rolled as you buried your hands in his hair and rode his face.

You had never had a lover like him, one that was more focused on your pleasure than his own. One orgasm wasn’t enough, he wanted you weak and overstimulated, your arousal running down his chin as he held your hips tightly so you couldn’t escape his tongue.

Your body was more than wet enough to take him when he kicked his shorts away and you sunk down his hard length. But your cunt was tight from the orgasms and the air left your lungs as he filled you so deeply it was almost to the point of pain.

“Need a moment?” he asked as his thumb reached between your legs and found your clit.

You did but, as he said, you were impatient and planted your palms on his chest as you slowly started to ease yourself up and down his cock. The sounds of your breathing changed as pleasure began to build and Max grinned as he gripped your hips knowing you were ready for more. He shifted beneath you, his knees bending so he could have the leverage he needed before he slammed up into you.

You cried his name out as your bodies slapped together and his strong hands bounced you in time to his thrusts. Every stroke dragged him along your walls that fluttered around him and you swore in ecstasy as his head hit your cervix.

Sweat beaded on your forehead, your legs trembled uncontrollably and you could barely open your eyes when his hold finally eased. There was no way you were going to be able to make it to the bed as you rolled off his body and collapsed to the carpet beside him

You were just about to open your mouth and ask him to drag the bedsheet down to the floor when your smartwatch lit up on your wrist. The alert was for the silent alarm that had been triggered on the perimeter of the property and all the oxytocin and dopamine released thanks to Max was replaced with adrenaline. Strength flooded back to you as you rose to your feet and grabbed a white shirt of Max’s that was close by.

“Lock the door behind me,” you ordered Max with a whisper as he noticed the change instantly. “And call Christian.”

“What’s going on?” he asked, pulling his shorts up as he made his way to the door too.

“Someone’s in the house.” You grabbed his shoulder as he went to step out of the room and pushed him aside. “Do not leave the room until I’m back. This is my job.”

“You’re my girlfriend, I’m not going to let you go alone.”

“Right now I’m your security,” you hissed quietly as you watched the camera feed in the small device, “and I will knock you out if it means keeping you safe.”

He held his palms up and took a step back into the room until you nodded in satisfaction. “Be safe.”

The worry in his tone brought a small smile to your face. “Always.” The door clicked shut behind you before the lock slid into place and the smile faded. It was time to go hunting.

You swiped across the device on your arm, flipping through all the cameras to determine there were three men in the house. They were still on the ground floor and making their way around each corner with the ease of a group that was used to working together.

Pulling Max’s shirt over your body, you wished you had time to at least put on a pair of panties. That was the last thought you spared before gripping the handrail of the stairs and shutting out everything but the task ahead of you. These men would not make it to the stairs, they would not make it to your bedroom, they would not make it to Max.

You timed it perfectly.

The billowing shirt caught the air as you leapt over the handrail and crashed feet first onto the man who had stepped into your path. He was lucky he didn’t look up because Max would have probably killed him for what be would have seen. Instead your heel connected with his head and he was a crumpled heap on the floor before you had even got back on your feet.

“She’s in here! You, find Verstappen and break his fucking hands.”

You dropped your hips low as you spun to face the voice behind you, tucking your head behind your forearms as a fist tried to kiss your cheek. The blow glanced off your arm but the crunch on knuckles on plastic rendered your smartwatch broken.

“Dick,” you growled as you lost the camera feed, and the position of the third asshole who had broken into your home. Angered even more so, you took the offensive and attacked.

The man was well trained as he dipped and dodged your 1-2 combo but he wasn’t expecting the furious headbutt you threw when he stepped in for a body shot. Light exploded behind your eyes as the man stumbled back with a groan before he stabilised himself with the wall.

“You’re a scrapper, aren’t you?” he laughed as he wiped the blood from his forehead before it ran into his eyes.

“Raised in the streets, sweetcheeks,” you smirked. If it wasn’t for the gin and adrenaline your head would probably be aching beyond belief but you couldn’t feel it just yet. “Who hired you?”

“I’m not going to tell you.”

“Worth a try,” you said with a shrug. “At least I know there’s no reason to leave any of you conscious.”

This time when the man attacked you didn’t try to stop him, you let him shove his weight into you and took him with you to the floor. Your knees caught his gut and when the momentum shifted, you pushed up with all your strength and sent him barreling into the solid oak front door. The wood cracked under the hit it took and you waited a moment to see if the man would rise.

A sound of annoyance rumbled from your throat as he tried to crawl on his knees and you shook your head. “You have one hard head, sweetcheeks.”

“Fuck. You,” he spat back, using the door handle to pull himself up.

“No, thanks,” you swung your knee up and knocked the air out of him, satisfied he wouldn’t be trying to get up again when he slumped to the floor. “I have taste.”

A shadow crossed the floor from the other end of the hall and you spun around to see the last assailant darting from the kitchen to the living room. Aiming to cut him off, you took the other archway into the large room and found him armed with a very expensive vase.

“We weren’t interrupting something, were we?” he asked as he eyed up the length of skin showing beneath Max’s shirt and you pulled the material back into place as you narrowed your eyes at him.

“Lucky for you we had just finished. If not, your friends would be dead.”

The vase was a gift from Max’s mother no less, and the man threw it at your head. You were torn between trying to catch it and self preservation but self preservation won as you slid out of the trajectory and it shattered across the living room floor. Shards went flying and Achilles hissed as he shot off the couch with the fright.

That’s when you saw red.

A sound akin to a warcry erupted from you as you ran and tackled the man around the waist, shoving your shoulder into his ribs as you both went down.

“You.” Your fist splattered blood across the carpet as it broke his nose. “Scared.” The skin on your knuckles split with a hard punch to the man’s side. “My.” Your nose wrinkled at the sound of his ribs cracking. “Cat!” You fell back on your heels panting as the man struggled to breathe.

The rapid thumping of feet running down the stairs had you rushing back to your feet thinking there was a fourth intruder but it was Max who skidded around the corner.

“You’re meant to wait for me,” you said as the fight left you exhausted and you swayed on your feet.

His arms were there to catch you and he scooped you off your feet and he kissed your sweaty forehead. “I heard you scream.”

“They scared Achilles,” you said with a wince at the touch and he pulled back, his eyes widening as he saw the swelling of the bruise beginning.

“You’re hurt.” The living room gave way to the kitchen and Max placed you on the countertop as he grabbed the first aid kit from under the bench.

“I might have a headache.”

“Stop being so tough,” he warned as he cracked the rapid ice pack open and placed it to your head. “Brett’s on his way, so is Christian.”

You bit your lip as he wiped your knuckles with disinfectant and the alcohol burned the cuts before he gently wrapped them with gauze.

“Does this mean we have to move?” he asked as he stepped between your legs and took over holding the ice pack in place. It was almost hard to imagine that on the other side of the wall there were three men unconscious when he stood in such an intimate position.

Your head snapped back to look him in the eyes. “No, this is my home. I’ll be damned if I let anyone take that away from me again.”

He swallowed before nodding in agreement. “Okay, then teach me to fight.”

Your eyebrows shot up your forehead and you winced as it sparked fresh pain. “What?”

“This is our home. I’m not going to let you defend it alone, again.” He pressed a quick kiss to your lips as the doorbell rang and Brett called out. “This is my fight too.”

“Your fight with Ferrari is out on the track.”

“Not anymore.”

Click here for chapter seven.

Tagging: @octaviareina @omgsuperstarg @mvclff1 @alwaysclassyeagle @icantcomeupwithamusicalname-blog @laneyspaulding19 @booknerd2004-blog @mimimarvelingmarvel @chonkybonky @vita-di-moda @formulas-bitch @untitled1279

#max verstappen x you #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x y/n #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen smut #f1 smut #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #formula one fanfiction

469 notes · View notes

shroomaz · 4 months

Text

First Encounters with the Disaster Twins

A/N: I wanted to try something new- by NO MEANS am I a writer but I'm trying to tap into the turtle-ness that are these brothers. SO I thought why not for a start do a READER first encounter? I rushed Donnie's story a bit but that's because I had to do some things today...enjoy!

💜DONNIE - (ROOFTOP...at night...half rescue-)

You were on top of the roof admiring the scenery, frustrated at the troubles of the day. It wasn't your fault that you had the computer stolen, Kendra and her purple dragons managed to get their grubby hands on it, and then you were blamed for losing it.

You swore that you would get it one way or another, however, you never thought of a plan for it...

You were drowning in the scene so much that you had no awareness to what was going on...in other words, you were called "too emotional" for your own good, not that it was your fault. Just the overall scenery and quietness made everything much more vibrant...until you heard the sound of a crash. You turned your head and looked over to where the sound had come from; down in the alley.

Rushing; you had gone to see what it was.

Then it all came to you, there they were - the Purple Dragons.

You scowled at the very look on Kendra's smug little face.

Kendra was about to speak before getting bumped on the head with what seemed to be a metal part....wow. Is she okay??? It seems like her henchmen were thinking the same thing.

Whilst they were dragging her away hoping that she was at least ALIVE, you look up to see something floating around the buildings unevenly. Quickly grabbing the metal piece that fell, you rush your way in the direction the figure went.

Not even caring about the dragons that would soon follow you.

Climbing your way up the building's stairs, you lay your eyes upon a turtle with a purple shell and purple bandana. Looking frustrated and seemingly fixated on something. "All that I told Nardo to do- was leave the controls alone and nothing would happen. And what does he do? Touch. My. Things..." his eye twitches from the thought...and hissing too. "And great...I'm missing something! Round of applause anyone? Anyone?...Ah great now I'm talking to myself. I'm becoming Raph." He visibly shivered at the thought as he gave himself a slight face palm.

You couldn't help but try to make your way out of the situation, in shock that a turtle is even capable of moving like that, that tall and that smart and can TALK???? Its like something from a Jupiter Jim movie.

You took a step back but you missed your footing and tripped backwards.

"GAHHH---!!" You cried in terror as you- ya know- nearly fell to your death at 115 ft. But your body was grabbed by four claws that dragged you up.

Unknowingly, you were squirming to get out.

"Fear not dear fellow human, for I am but your most excellent SAVIOR!" he gloats to himself. "Against my tech, you are unable to break free from my heroic grasp from. Yours truly: Othello Von Ryan!" He gloats again, seems like he's trying to show how smart he is.

"....Othello Von Ryan?" you looked up at him confused. "Is that your name-"

"I-" he opened his eyes and raised his eyebrow with his arms slightly crossed. "Do you have a problem with that?" he questioned you.

".....No?" You squeaked out to him.

The Turtle seemed to bring his attention over to the piece that you had in your hand. His eyes glimmering. He looked so happy! So content in passion.

"Hey...you found the piece! That's what I'm looking for!" he exclaimed.

His claws put you down so that you could walk towards him and give him the piece. "Was this yours?" You asked handing him the metal part.

"More or less... it's for something very precious of mine.-" He looks He takes the piece before you both get surprised by the Purple Dragons. Kendra seemed to hiss when she saw the turtle.

"Get them Jas!" she had her "brother" try to take care of the situation with his invention that seemed to be in the form of a spider. "Get Donnie this time! Make yourself of use!" I mean- she's angry cause she got hit on the head with a metal part... it's understandable.

Suddenly you feel a hand wrap around your waist along with the turtle saying. "Hang on!!" You grip on without thinking before the turtle's purple shell grows to drone-like wings and starts hovering to get the two of you away from the situation.

"Donnie huh...?" you thought to yourself looking up at the softshell.

🩵LEO - (IT WAS A RESCUE...it was by accident-)

You were walking back home from work.

It wasn't most ideal but your car had been in an accident so you had no way of transportation...and crime was spiking, so you had already made up your mind to not take a cab. However, this was fine, you made sure to stay on the right shortcut home and that there was a light where you went...and above all, you had your BEATING STICK! +lucky charm.

(insert sparkling image of a dinky self-defense weapon here...along with the charm of your choice.)

What could go wrong?

Is what you said to yourself....but it was too late--

Suddenly; a glowing blue light appeared from above. Looking up to see what it was- your fight or flight response immediately made you leap across the street when a mutant hippo came crashing down with a mutant turtle following behind.

"HOHOO--- BOYY!" the turtle in blue started to exclaim as he came crashing down into the pavement on the Hippo.

"Blasted! You teleported me away from the 'Cards of Devant'! Curse you turtle! What is it that I possibly have to do to get you turtles off my hide." The hippo cursed at the red-eared slider in an accent, floating rings surrounding him.

"You're telling me...I could be catching my beauty-zs right now, but you have to try to get your tricky fingers on those magical cards-!"

The turtle was using his odachi to create more portals to deflect the spinning rings coming at him; you were too stunned to speak- but you tried your best to sneak away until you heard a snort from the hippo mutant. You slowly made eye contact...and then awkwardly smiled.

The hippo seemed to give a grin.

"Eh? Whatcha looking at-- ohhhh boy..." the turtle looked in your direction too. How could he have not seen you before- he didn't know but all he could do was try to play cool.

It was only then that the turtle knew what to do. He couldn't stay longer- but he couldn't leave you there either. He left his brothers behind where the cards were, so he knew they would be safe...I suppose it's time to do what any hero would do.

He leaped at you whilst you grabbed your BEATING STICK as a way of self-defense. Not knowing what was happening-

The hippo pounced, but you managed to sledge him straight in the head with your BEATING STICK losing it in the process; with that being said the Hippo missed and the turtle fell through the portal with you in one of his arms.

"Adios! Hippos!" the turtle called with a laugh following after. The hippo seemed outraged before the portal closed...then it was quiet.

You both fell on a floor that seemed to be the top of a roof; an apartment complex. You groaned...and then he groaned. It seemed like he didn't think that he could hit back first onto a hard floor. However...you both did.

Rubbing the back of his head and looking over to make sure you were okay, he seemed to lose his face-man grin that turned into a look of worry.

"Are you okay?" the blue turtle helped you up.

"I'm okay...what are you...?" you rubbed your eyes and looked upon the features of the slider turtle. You were frazzled...he could understand, it is not every day you meet a sentient turtle.

He moved with ease.

The turtle seemed in thought before laughing slightly and rubbing the back of his head.

"I think a better question would be what is your name..." He puts his odachi back behind him before lifting your lucky charm in the other.

"You can call me Leo." he smiled at you, which was strangely calming.

"....Y/N."

(END)

#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise donnie #rise leo #disaster twins #rottmnt donnie x reader #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt donatello #rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #rottmnt leo x reader #rottmnt leo #tmnt 2018 #rottmnt leonardo

148 notes · View notes

fear-is-truth · 6 months

Note

hii 🫶🫶 can you write something about tate planning a really fun date for you?? i need to read something fluffy rn lol . Love your writing 🩷🩷

Tate Langdon x reader

𝐇𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧! 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞 || 𝐬𝐟𝐰 • 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟

✧. a/n ─ thank you anon for this cute request! i had so much fun writing this ~ i’m considering to write this into an one-shot (after my exams are done). xoxo, jackie

-—————————⋆｡‧˚ʚɞ˚‧｡⋆—————————-

✧. pairings ─ tate langdon x fem! reader

✧. genre ─ headcanons ⨾ fluff

✧. summary ─ it’s halloween, the one day of the year tate is able to go outside. he’s been planning this special date for you. in secret. for an entire month

✧. warnings ─ none, just fluff.

-—————————⋆｡‧˚ʚɞ˚‧｡⋆—————————-

october is tate’s month. that fact has already been established.

it’s the only month of the year that he insists on being the one to cross out the days on your calendar, counting down the days to halloween.

the concept of days doesn’t really matter to tate, since he’s stuck in the house for eternity. he only keeps track of hours and minutes, waiting for you to come home like a puppy.

so when you’re at school, he gets down to planning.

the date has to be perfect because you are his light and you deserve the absolute best.

he uses Google map on your computer to check out potential date plans, scrawling them down on a piece of paper:

e.g. coffee shops, record stores, an escape room, a haunted house, the halloween festival, etc.

all the while listening to the playlist you guys share— a combo of your favourites songs and his favourites.

when it’s nearly the time you come home, he wipes the search history; turns off the computer, and stuffs the paper in his jeans pocket.

then he sits on the foot of the stairs, patiently waiting for you to step through the front door, just like every other day.

he gives you a bear hug, mumbles “i missed you” into the crook of your shoulder. the two of you share a kiss.

{time skip to halloween!}

he buys your favorite drink from the coffee shop, and the two of you wander through the crowd of people at the halloween festival, holding hands the entire time.

the haunted house is purely for shits and giggles. you live in the murder house, for christ’s sake.

he had chosen that particular place because he wants to see you get spooked. that way, you’ll jump into his arms and he can protect you.

tate hides behind bushes or around corners to jump-scare a bunch of trick-or-treaters. (he’s so immature sometimes)

he raids the candy bowls that sits on people’s doorsteps.

“the note says: ‘take one’. you took like, five.”

“but y/n, it’s sour patch kids and snickers!! ooh just look at these skittles-”

“tate.”

“okay, hear me out: one for you, one for me, and addy, beau and rose, don’t forget your parents-”

the fact that he wore his cardigan with large pockets isn’t just pure coincidence. boy has a major sweet tooth, he needs extra space to store his loot.

you both end up leaving with stuffed pockets. which made you feel a bit guilty, but the adorable and smug smile tate gave you made it a bit better.

“see? stealing isn’t that bad~”

before you can argue, he unwraps a small hersey’s bar and stuffs it into your mouth to shut you up, laughing.

you sneak into the movie theater together, perfectly timed to see the final parts of the movie where the slasher brutally murders everyone. the candy you’ve stolen taken from earlier comes in handy.

tate has always been secretly fantasizing the two of you kissing/holding hands in a dark theater, like in those chick flicks you forced him watch together.

finally, he gets to fulfill that fantasy.

after the movie, everyone else leaves, while you two proceeds to make out during the rolling credits.

until the employee kicks you both out.

your sit next to each other at the beach, having deep, philosophical conversations while you listen to the sound of waves crashing against the shore.

which lead to cuddling, then a hot make-out session.

“tate?”

“yeah, y/n?”

“this is the best halloween i’ve ever had.”

-—————————⋆｡‧˚ʚɞ˚‧｡⋆—————————-

✧. a/n ─ english is not my first language, please tolerate the grammatical mistakes

requests are open, comment for taglist ♡

©️@cinnamxngirl

#american horror story #tate langdon #tate langdon x y/n #tate langdon x you #tate langdon x reader #fluff #tate langdon headcanon #Tate Langdon hc #ahs #Kit walker

181 notes · View notes

writingmysanity · 6 months

Text

Did I miss it?

Pairing: Zoro x reader

Word count: 1600

TW: drinking, reader is tipsy for sure.

A/N: Happy Birthday, Lissie!! Okay, lets try this again. My computer crashed half way through what I was writing and I lost… everything. I know I asked you a tough question the other day, and you answered lol much to your own pain – so here you go. I truly hope you enjoy. Thank you so much for being my friend and enabling me in my deranged thoughts in our messages. You're such a kind soul, and such a good mum.

I hope you’re spending your free time re-watching the video from Taz and resting. Perhaps thirsting. @stray-kaz

A/N continued: this is the first time i am writing for Zoro, I am pretty sure he is ooc here. i claim being out of practice.

=========

Despite how the shouts and cheers of your crew mates seem to linger around you, their laughter resting in the gusts of wind, the night is quiet. Their words are whisked away without thought or care into the night, seeming to echo back from the depths of the bay as nothing more than whispers. Obsidian waves lap at the hull of the ship, rocking the ship slowly to the tune of what your mother called the whiskey lullaby.

Taking a deep breath, you melt into the side of the ship, sinking to your knees to rest against the railing, still cradling your own glass to your chest. Moonlight washes over the deck, casting the whole of everything you can see with a blue-ish hue. The sight never ceases to amaze you, a gentle smile resting on your lips as you take in your crew, littered about the open space in various rather uncomfortable positions that make you laugh.

If you were a little less drunk, you would move to try and help them shift into at least more comfortable positions. But as things stand currently, you find you are unable to stand properly when the ship and your vision continue to move. Slowly, you shift to face out towards the water, slotting your legs through the railings to allow them to dangle, resting your head against the wood with a sigh.

Celebrations aren’t uncommon for the straw hats, and you have come to even enjoy their rambunctious energy since you joined the ragtag group of pirates. You are certainly still learning to accept their willingness to celebrate you, they certainly have made you feel as part of their family, safe and accepted,but something is missing.

A certain head of moss colored hair.

Not two weeks prior, Luffy had sent his first mate off on a special retrieval mission. Zoro had been nervous to leave, knowing he wouldn’t be able to be there for his crew, but also the certainty that he wouldn’t be able to be there for you.

Normally, he would have already crowded you away in the crows nest or back in the kitchen hiding behind the island, finishing off the last of the liquor with you, his attention solely on you. Those dark eyes locked on your form beside him as he listened to you drunkenly ramble about whatever seemed to have caught your fancy that night. The thought of not getting to celebrate with him weighing heavier on your heart than you expected it to.

You have long since stopped trying to deny your feelings for the swordsman, and though unspoken, you know he feels the same – though neither of you have tried to push it further.

Sitting in silence, you let the rush of the waters below over take your senses, the distant push and pull dancing beneath your feet coupled with the distant cry of a sea bird lifting from the oceans surface. So engrossed in your thoughts and the siren call of the sea, you don’t hear the steps rushing up the plank of wood connecting the ship to the harbor, nor the gentle bumps of the body stumbling up onto the deck as they make their way to you. You don’t hear any of it, until his voice startles you from your reverie, the depths of your thoughts lingering on him more than you would ever admit to anyone else.

“Did I miss it?” his voice is slow, measured as you yank yourself around with a gasp, nearly throwing your glass at him in surprise. At this, he chuckles, slowly moving to kneel before you, careful of his swords and your hold on the cup as he tugs it from your hand.

“Zo…” he nods slowly, gaze softening in a way that you've learned is meant only for you. “You startled me.” you confess, the drunken tilt to your words making him frown slightly. You're out here, drunk, and the only one awake.

“I noticed,” he states calmly as he slides closer, sitting beside you, relaxing at the near awestruck look painting your face, eyes wide and glassy with emotions you've yet to speak on, lips parted. “I’m sorry I’m late.” he starts again. “Did I miss it?”

“I thought you weren’t meant to be back until next week,” you stumble out, reaching for him, completely ignoring his question. Or not hearing it. Chuckling, again, he lets you tug him closer, one hand resting on his arm, the other taking the opposite hand.

“I took larger steps,” he half jokes, running his thumb over your knuckles with a gentleness no one else would believe he is capable of, your laughter earning one of his rare smiles. “Now, please answer me this time, pretty girl.” he asks slowly, catching your attention as he rests his free hand on your cheek. Nodding slowly, your eyes lock with his, immediately lost in the depths of the blackened seas washing in his gaze.

“Did I miss it?” he asks again, gently emphasizing each word. At this, you frown slightly, looking up to the moon, as if trying to discern the time. Between your addled brain, and your excitement at seeing him again so soon, you shrug with a crooked grin that leaves him dizzy.

“I don’t know,” you state honestly. “we can say no,” you offer, eyes softening as you match his gaze again, able to see that this means something to him. Sighing in relief, his shoulders sag a bit before he moves away from you, earning a soft whine. His shoulders shake at the sound, eyeing you amused.

“patience, princess,” he chides, pulling a box from the bag at his side, setting it in your lap. Its not big, it can fit in the palm of your hand, but it is expertly wrapped, a beautiful bow resting on top. Frowning, you lift it to your face, shaking it.

“What is it?” you hum, tilting your head at it. He huffs a bit, amused. He has never dealt with you when drunk, at least, not without the both of you being drunk together.

“Open it and find out,” his normal measured voice laced with an amusement he would deny later. Beaming up at him, you nod, tugging the bow lightly, watching it fall away with ease before tugging at the corner of the beautiful silver paper that gleams in the moonlight. Inside is a small box. There is nothing too special about it, a simple smooth brown box. Humming in curiosity, you tug it open, peeking in as if something would jump out before the top fumbles off completely. Inside is a thin silver chain.

Frowning, you tug it up, watching in awe as the charm swings to the end.

At first, all you're able to discern is that the charm is a silver circle. Clumsily, you grab at it, wanting to look closer, oblivious to zoro’s anxious shifting beside you. On one side, there is a compass etched into it, careful practiced lines marking each direction with a small brilliant emerald resting in the center. You stare at it for a moment before realizing you can feel the same raised edges on the other side.

Flipping it slowly, your eyebrows furrow as you try to read it, scrawled in perfect cursive.

Lets get lost together

head whipping to him, your eyes are wide, gaping at him. He shifts slightly, moving away from the railing now, eyes flitting between you and the necklace.

“Do.. do you like it?” his voice is quiet, all of his insecurities and internal doubts swarming him as you sit there, staring. After a minute of tense silence, he shakes his head, jaw tense as he moves to stand. “I knew it was a bad idea” he sighs, moving to take the offending item from your grasp, but you refuse to let go.

“you mean it?” your voice almost whisked away by the wind its so soft. This is as close to a confession as hes ever gotten other than a drunken “I like your face” or one of his pet names you’ve come to adore. He pauses again, uncertainty resting clear in his eyes as he nods slowly.

“Yeah,” his voice is quiet, watching as your demeanor switches from quiet and contemplative to bright and excited – the brilliance he finds himself melting for. Quickly, you turn, scootching the best you can, drunk and sitting, to turn your back to him while holding the necklace up impatiently.

“Put it on me,” you nearly demand before pausing, looking at him pleadingly over your shoulder. “Please.” shaking his head at your antics, he takes it from your hand gently, slowly shifting to his knees to raise it over your head and around your neck from behind. Once its clasped, he tugs it loose, allowing it to rest over your shirt, his touch lingering on your neck as he leans down slowly to whisper in your ear, the sensation making you shiver.

“Happy birthday, Princess.”

======

happy birthday, my friend. It was super quick, but I really hope you enjoy it or at least get a chuckle out of it. I hope your day is the best.

#roronoa zoro #one piece zoro #zoro x reader #zoro #one piece #one piece live action #opla #one piece netflix #opla!zoro x reader #opla!zoro

164 notes · View notes

yanderes-galore · 5 months

Note

Can you do Mike afton with your prompts 57, 53, and 10? Also can it be romantic?

Sure! I'll see what I can do :) Been a bit since I've done this AU. This is a new take on it.

@okchijt helped me with this so this is mostly their take while I filled in the plot they gave me. Requester wanted FLS AU.

Yandere! FLS! Michael Afton Concept

What is the FLS AU?

Yandere! FLS AU! Michael Afton Prompts 57, 53, and 10

"You're stuck with me, like it or not."

"I left you a few voice mails, why didn't you pick up?"

"I've given myself all to you! Yet you call me a monster!"

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Stalking, Violence, Breaking and entering, Manipulation, Kidnapping implied, Forced relationship implied.

The phone rings on and on as you type away at your keyboard. On screen is an email soon to be sent to your boss, Henry. You were nearly at a breakthrough on an important case.

Incriminating evidence filled the email. Many documents and notes were attached all about two people behind a long list of murders. The case of The Aftons was very important to your employer.

Your job was to play detective. You were meant to work for them at their Pizzeria, collect evidence, then leave. That was it... that was the job.

Then one of them, the son, got attached.

You had a feeling he caught on to you. Even now as you type away and prepare to send Henry your evidence your phone rings. You knew it was him, the voice mails were endless.

You hadn't bothered to listen to them. Instead you focused on your email by putting on the final touches. Then your mouse drifted to the send button...

Only for the power to cut.

You go silent, eyes blown wide and looking at the computer in shock. There wasn't any storms. Did you flip something by accident?

"I left you a few voice mails, why didn't you pick up? Are you ignoring me?"

The voice echoes from close by and you feel the hair on your skin shoot up. You spin your chair around and search the darkness for answers. Unfortunately... your questions are answered.

Michael stands in the doorway of the room. His posture is confident and he stares at you like you're his newest prey. You can only stare as he blocks your exit.

"Don't you know how much I've done for you?" Michael sighs. "I've been protecting you from my father as I already know your plans. I could've just killed you... but now I like you too much for that."

The man in front of you does a fake pout while leaning in the doorway. The fact he knew everything made your heart drop to your stomach. He's more clever than you thought.

"I've already sacrificed so much by allowing these games to play out. However, this still means I have to prevent you from exposing the family business, y'know?" Michael sighs, playing with your emotions to satiate the sadism within him.

"You're a monster for doing all of this!" You yell at the man. You can see Michael feign shock and surprise before chuckling.

"I've given myself all to you! Yet you call me a monster!" Michael accuses in a playful manner before turning serious. "I could've just killed you, but I'm nice enough to protect you and let you live!"

You quickly stand up to keep distance as Michael walks forward. Despite the situation you manage to keep yourself calm. It's in the line of work, after all. Yet you still find yourself shaking when he gets close to you.

"I've been so patient with you. I think things should go my way for once, shouldn't they?" Michael hums towards you. You try to run around him but he catches you with ease. It's funny to him... did you not think he was an experienced killer?

You feel your chest hit the desk hard as your arms are held behind your back. The resulting impact causes the computer to crash onto the ground, the email and evidence now long destroyed. Panic sets in as struggle and fight against the killer behind you.

Said killer only appears excited by your fate.

"I think it's time you rest, dear. Isn't it getting late?" Michael coos, raising the knife in his hand. You suddenly feel a blunt object smack into your head before your vision darkens.

"You're stuck with me, like it or not." Michael whispers with a giggle before your vision fails you.

#yandere five nights at freddy's #yandere fnaf #fnaf father like son au #yandere fls michael afton #yandere michael afton

101 notes · View notes

sporadicthingcollection · 1 year

Text

Point Counterpoint (Tech x F!Reader)

Summary: Despite the mutual attraction, Tech thinks a relationship at time isn't a good idea. You disagree. Vehemently.

Pairing: Tech x F!Reader

Rating: Mild.

Word Count: 3.1k.

Warnings: None!

---

But if I seem to act unkind

It's only me, it's not my mind

That is confusing things

---

Figuring out where you lived wasn’t difficult. You’ve mentioned that it’s a ten minute walk to Cid’s bar, and a fifteen minute walk to the hangar where they keep the Marauder. A third distance would have made it easier, but Tech has done more with less.

Though it would have been much easier if Omega wasn’t hovering over his shoulder.

“This seems... complicated,” she says slowly.

“Not particularly,” Tech replies. He points at the computer viewscreen. “The edge of this circle represents about a fifteen minutes walk, and this one--”

“No, I mean why do this when you could just message her? You have her comm information.”

Echo chimes in from his spot lounging on the bunk. “Because he’s scared to talk to girls.”

Tech shoots him a dry look. “There is no guarantee that she would reply in a timely manner, or that she would be willing to give the information freely. This is faster.”

Omega gives Echo an uneasy look, but he shrugs. She returns her attention to the screen. “Did she forget something?”

Tech shakes his head. “There is something I’d like to discuss with her in private.”

Echo chimes in again. “Make sure you bring flowers. I’ve heard roses are traditional for first dates.”

There’s a crash from outside the ship, and Wrecker comes barreling inside. “Tech’s goin’ on a date?!” he bellows.

Everyone flinches, with poor Omega covering her ears. But she recovers quickly. “He’s trying to figure out where she lives right now.”

Wrecker’s brow scrunches up. “Why doesn’t he just ask her?”

Tech sighs. “I am not going on a date,” he says. “Though, given that she is infatuated with me, it would be a reasonable assumption to make.”

You didn’t hide it very well. The way you’d stand a little closer to him, or play with your hair, or send him messages with hearts in them. You seem to be using them playfully, but given all of the other evidence, it’s the only logical conclusion.

Wrecker breaks into a wide grin. “Aw, lucky!” He gives Tech what is intended to be a friendly punch on the shoulder, but it nearly knocks him out of his chair.

“Don’t sound too excited, Tech,” Echo says. He sits up and swings his legs over the edge of the rack to sit.

“I am not,” Tech says. “Regretfully, I am going to talk her out of it.”

Wrecker’s voice doesn’t crack often, but it does now. “What?! Why?!”

Tech picks up the holopad on the console and passes it to him. “I have spent the last several days compiling a list of why we should not pursue a relationship. You may peruse it if you wish.”

Wrecker is more than capable of reading, but he stares at the pad like it’s written in Durese. His expression hardens and he shoves it back into Tech’s hands. “These are dumb. You’re dumb.”

“Demonstrably untrue,” he replies.

“Nah, Wrecker’s right this time,” Echo says. Tech looks to him, only to see him shake his head in disapproval. “A girl likes you, you go for it. Especially when you like her back.”

There is wisdom in his brother’s words, but how did he know he liked her back? Tech blinks at him. “And where did you hear that?”

“You act different around her,” Omega says. “You’re always standing really close to her, and your cheeks get kinda red, and you smile at things she says...” She shrugs. “It’s really obvious.”

He takes a steadying breath. “Regardless of my feelings, we are not compatible. It is as simple as that.” He stands up. “If you will excuse me, I’d like to see her before dark.”

Wrecker lets out a low grumble, not unlike that of an agitated tooka. “For someone so smart, you’re really stupid, y’know that?” He turns to Echo. “Two creds says this doesn’t go the way he thinks this will.”

“Bet,” he grunts. “She’s gonna kick him to the curb.”

Tech rolls his eyes, but says nothing. He has places to be.

Hunter almost bumps into him as he walks down the ramp, but he scoots to the side just in time. “Going to see your girlfriend?” he says with a smile.

“She is not my girlfriend,” he says flatly, “and I’m going to straighten that out now.”

---

You’re a very intelligent woman. You have an education and a career. You can usually keep up with his explanations and ask more questions. It’s one of the many things he likes about you.

Today, however, you seem to not understand a thing he’s saying. From the second you opened your door, you’ve been wide-eyed and baffled. Which is unusual, given that he’s not espousing any particularly complicated technical insights.

You stare at the holopad, eyes widening as you scan the text. They’re enormous and uncomprehending when you look up at him, blinking. You swallow, then take a deep breath.

“Tech,” you ask flatly, “what the fuck?”

That’s an unusually ignorant question coming from you. “Is it not obvious? It is a list of reasons you should pursue other men. I am not a suitable partner for you.”

You blink once. Your mouth opens, then closes. You look at the holopad and open your mouth again, only to close it again as you look back at him. “How long is this?”

“There are about thirty-five items, though some have multiple subsections. So about…” He counts in his head. “Forty-seven, in total.”

He waits for you to speak. You don’t. You just keep staring at him. You look remarkably like a fish, with your mouth opening and closing. You look between him and the holopad several times.

Unsure of what to do with his hands, he adjusts his goggles. “This is not to say that I do not wish to stay friends,” he says. “You are good company and I would like to--”

He’s about a head taller than you, but you have the element of surprise. You grab him by the collar of his breastplate and haul him into your apartment, throwing him onto your sofa. It’s quite plush and his landing is soft.

You slap the door panel to close it and then whirl around to storm towards him. “This isn’t fair,” you say. “You can’t just throw a list of reasons at me and leave.”

“I just did,” he states. He tries to stand up, but you sit him back down. “I don’t understand what you are upset about.”

With a huff, you toss the holopad at him. “At the very least, I deserve to have you tell me to my face why. And I should make an argument back.”

That’s fair. He glances at his chronometer. “I hope you have no plans for the evening.”

“Free as a purrgil,” you say, voice smooth. “So lay it on me.”

He likes that confident tone you take. It makes his insides squirm in a pleasant way. “Very well,” he says. He taps the pad. “Point one,” he begins. “I am a fugitive of the Empire.”

You scoff. “For a good reason. I’d desert too if I had people to protect.”

“Friendship is one thing, but the close contact necessitated by a romantic relationship would put you in constant danger.” He gives you a pointed look. “It is not an easy life.”

You ponder that a moment, tipping your head back and pursing your lips. “Well, yeah,” you finally say, “but I’ve known that from the jump. It’s not like you’re hiding it from me.”

That’s a good point. You’ve been nothing but gracious about his status -- helpful, even. You’ve gone so far as to warn him when inspections are to be conducted on the ship hangars.

You continue. “And in the interests of openness, I assure you I’m not hiding anything either. Except maybe my credit card number, but that’s nothing personal.”

A joke. Your mood has improved. A good sign. Perhaps you’ll be more receptive to the next point.

He adjusts his goggles. “Point two: you are far more attractive than I am.”

The right half of your smile disappears as your brows shoot up and your eyes widen, leaving you looking remarkably like an orbak in a pair of headlights. “Are you saying you wish I wasn’t pretty?”

“Nothing of the sort. You are fine the way you are. More than fine, if I may be honest. Which is what concerns me. Couples where one is perceived as more attractive than the other are subject to more scrutiny and are therefore more likely to separate.”

Your expression doesn’t change. You’re still baffled. “I’m flattered, but... what?”

For such an intelligent woman, you’re being unusually dense right now. It’s very frustrating. “Objectively speaking, you are very beautiful. Your face is symmetrical and your bust-waist-hip measurements are within ideal parameters -- based on just my visual estimates, of course.”

Somehow, your eyes get even wider. “...how long have you been looking at me?”

Too long, but he’ll keep that fact to himself. He ignores your interjection. “I, on the other hand, am a Human clone of decidedly average looks. Which brings me to my next point--”

“Whoa whoa whoa whoa!” You regain your wits and flap your hands so fast that your fingers appear to smear in the air. You stick your index finger at him. “What makes you think you’re unattractive?”

He almost scoffs, but he swallows it. “The data I’ve seen suggests I am not.”

You roll yours. “Don’t care. Explain yourself.”

He’s not a fan of prolonged self-depreciation, but if you insist. “Brown hair and eyes are, according to research I’ve read on the subject, the most common hair and eye colors among Humans. Hardly unique traits. Thus, average.”

“You’re taller than most guys I’ve met and in better shape. That rates you pretty high in my book,” you say. “And your goggles are neat.”

“While your appreciation of my eyewear is, well, appreciated, you are just one woman.” Speaking of which, they’re slightly crooked again. He adjusts them.

You suck in the slightest of breaths, and the corners of your lips curl. You always seem pleased when he touches his goggles.

You shake your head as if to clear it. “There’s more to attractiveness than looks, man.” You count on your fingers. “There’s personality, interests--”

“I’m aware of that as well. Which brings me to my third point: disparate levels of intelligence.”

You abandon your counting and your gaze snaps to his like a turret locking onto a target. “Excuse me?”

“I’m far more intelligent than you are.”

While it’s the truth, the look in your eyes makes him regret saying that. “Are you calling me dumb?”

He raises his hand. “I did not mean to offend.”

“Then what did you mean?!”

It’s suddenly very hot in here. “That was-- What I mean to say is--” He swallows thickly and takes a breath. “While you are by no means unintelligent, I am an enhanced clone. I am very knowledgeable and, in past experiences, my sharing of that knowledge has led to discomfort and irritation on the part of others.”

Your anger deflates. You put your hand on your breast, and your brows knit. “Have I ever been like that?” you ask quietly.

“Not often, but on occasion.”

You deflate even more. “I’m sorry,” you say in a small voice. “I didn’t mean to hurt you like that.”

A fuzzy warmth blooms in his head, pressing against the backs of his eyes. He’s not used to apologies, and yours seems genuine. “It’s fine,” he says, willing the feeling away.

“No, it’s not.” You vault over the arm of the sofa to sit next to him. Your gaze is soft. “I hurt your feelings and I apologize for that.”

The feeling doesn’t go away. It trickles down his throat and into his chest, even fuzzier and warmer. He coughs and turns back to the datapad.

“I think it’s really neat when you go off about stuff. Like, I didn’t know that thing about getting into hyperspace faster if you use a gas giant as a slingshot. I was telling everyone that for weeks.”

He’d completely forgotten he’d told you that. Though it’s not slingshotting. “Gravity assist,” he corrects.

Your smile returns and it’s like when he takes his armor off after a long day. “Gravity assist,” you repeat. “My bad. Point is that I like it when you talk about stuff. So scratch that from your list.”

His insides are fuzzy enough that he’s suddenly worried he swallowed a mouse without noticing. “...very well,” he says. He highlights the passage and deletes it from the list. “But that doesn’t affect my next point.”

You cross your arms. “Lay it on me.”

Your casual demeanor calms him somewhat. “Point four: clones have inconsistent fertility levels. Should you desire a child, conception may be difficult--”

A peal of laughter interrupts him. You’ve got your hand on your chest as your shoulders shake, your eyes scrunched up and your smile wide.

The warm sinks into his belly. He likes it when you laugh. But this is a serious matter. “What is so funny?”

You giggle for a few moments more, then inhale. “We’re not even in a relationship and you’re talking about kids!”

“It is a genuine concern!” he says. “Numerous studies stated that infertile couples are three times more likely to separate.”

The seriousness of his tone seems to affect you, and you stop laughing. “But we’re not a couple.”

“And I would hate for that to happen if we were.”

“Tech,” you say sharply. “You just brought over a list about why you don’t want to be in a relationship. Why are you worried about it?”

“It is not that I don’t want to, it’s just that it would be unwise,” he says.

It’s the truth. He’d love nothing more than to be with you. But it’s a bad idea and he’s holding forty-seven reasons why. One of which is infertility and he would really appreciate it if you took it seriously.

And yet now you’re looking at him like he sprouted a second head. Wide eyes. Jaw lowered. Lips parted. “Say that again.”

“It is not a good idea,” he repeats.

You shake your head and speak slowly. “No, the first part.”

He swallows. His cheeks are heating up. “It is not that I don’t want to be in a relationship--”

You spring forward so fast that not even his enhanced reflexes are enough to stop you. The datapad clatters to the floor as you push him back against the sofa and position yourself above him.

“I wanna kiss you,” you whisper. “Can I kiss you?”

His surroundings, all of the tactile sensations he’s getting, every single thought swirling around in his head vanishes with a pop. All that exists is your beautiful, symmetrical face, staring down at him with glittering eyes.

A single word appears, deep in his gut. He has to grab onto it and force it up his throat, past his teeth and tongue to his numb lips, and even then it’s barely louder than the breeze through a field of grass.

“Please,” he croaks.

The glitter in your eyes turns to a shine. Slowly, agonizingly slowly, you lower yourself towards him. Your breasts make contact with his chest first, and he wishes he hadn’t worn his armor. He wishes he could feel their warmth, their weight, resting against him.

And then your lips make contact with his and he doesn’t wish for anything at all.

Tech has never been kissed before. He’s seen it, heard others talking about it, how much they crave it. He didn’t put much stock into it. It seemed like it would be unpleasant.

He was wrong.

Your lips are gentle and warm against his, soft and smooth as satin. Your muscles move beneath the skin, as if you’re putting great effort into keeping them still.

He wants to linger in this moment forever.

But all things must end, and just as soon as you make contact, you pull away. Your eyes are lidded slightly, making you look intoxicated. Your tongue peeks out from behind your lips, visible for only a moment.

He wants to taste it.

He throws his arms around your waist and pulls you flush against him. One hand snakes up to press your head back down towards his as he rises to meet you.

He's a man possessed, watching his body act of its own accord. He moves his lips against yours and, though you peep in surprise, you reciprocate. You part your lips and he feels the warmth of your breath and the coolness of your mouth and you taste like hyperspace looks.

He has no idea what that means, but it feels right.

“Tech,” you whisper into his mouth.

Hearing his name come from your lips is like heaven. He murmurs yours back, and he gets a coo so sweet in response that he gasps.

You pull away, concern knitting your brow. “You okay?” you pant.

He nods. “Yes. This is a... new experience.”

Your jaw drops. You look both sad and elated. “Well, I’m honored to be your first.”

He’s glad you’re the first as well. With any luck, you’ll be the only.

He licks his lips. They taste faintly of meiloorun. “...I would like to kiss you again.”

Your eyes sparkle with delight. They drift closed as you lean in to catch his lips in yours.

---

He doesn't know how long he lays with you atop him, exploring your mouth, but the sun has set by the time he leaves. Or you let him leave, rather. You refuse to let him go until he promises to come by tomorrow so you can buy him dinner.

The phrase walking on air never made much sense to him, but as he strolls through the streets, he thinks he gets it.

Hunter is examining the contents of a cargo crate when Tech returns. He initially doesn’t pay him any mind, but he double-takes and raises a brow. “Where’ve you been?”

“Seeing a friend.” He adjusts his goggles. “Why?”

“You got...” He rubs his thumb along his lower lip. “...on your mouth...”

Tech touches his fingertips to his mouth. Pulling away, a swash of color stains his gloves.

Uh-oh.

He scrubs the back of his hand along his mouth just as Echo pokes his head out the door of the Marauder, quickly joined by Omega and Wrecker. “So how’d it go?” he asks.

Somehow, he manages to keep his voice even. “Better than expected,” he replies. “We’re getting dinner tomorrow night.”

Echo’s eyebrows shoot up as Omega’s jaw drops. Wrecker barks a laugh and jostles Echo with his elbow. Hunter continues to look confused.

“Seriously, what happened?” he asks. “Is this about your girlfriend?”

Tech opens his mouth to respond, only to pause. Instead, he nods. “It is,” he says.

Hunter waits for the correction, but it doesn't come. His brows slowly rise, and he breaks into a knowing grin.

---

Thank you for reading! Special thanks to my bf for putting on Revolver just when I was looking for an epigraph. <3

---

⬅⬅⬅ | "Filled With Things to Say" Masterpost | To the Mastahpost | Tip Jar | ➡➡➡

#tech x reader #the bad batch x reader #tbb x reader #tech #star wars #the bad batch #reader insert #emberly writes #lindiwe kadandala #send me tech requests lads

699 notes · View notes

hopelessrromantix · 9 months

Text

Part 2 to this

Miguel had first met you a very long time ago.

By then, he was Spiderman, seeking out one of your partners they'd gone slightly rogue.

The only thing he hadn't realized then, was that your project had affected you too, creating a symbiote that attached itself to you.

After many encounters in and out of your suits, you and Miguel got along surprisingly well.

Until you'd sacrificed yourself for him. Sure he was alive, but he always regretted not knowing you better.

And when he found a universe where he was happy, he got to see your face again.

An alternate version of yourselves had gotten both your powers under control. You started a family, adopted a daughter, and settled down to have a normal life.

Until he replaced his dead self.

At first it was… nice.

Not just being with his daughter, but you too.

He regretted not knowing you even more after that. His life picked up where his alternate self had left off.

And when everything came crashing down, you let him carry your daughter. He could see the mix of pain and shock in your eyes as you faded away, breaking apart into nothing.

Soon, Miguel was alone again.

And now, in an alternate world, you were Spiderman. He should've expected it, really.

"You should leave, Y/n." Lyla imitated, puffing up her chest and placing her hands on her hip. Miguel didn't expect her glare to be so effective.

He only rolled his eyes, walking back toward his computer.

"See, that's my impression of you saying something dumb." Miguel stayed quiet, swiping through data he'd left open, organizing his space. "You didn't even answer when he asked if you knew him. What's going on with you? We both know you wanted to talk to him."

Miguel's eyes narrowed. "It's not that simple. I'm dead in his world and he's dead in mine, we can't go rewriting history and destroying Y/n's Canon."

"Oh please," She scoffed. "Forget the 'High and Mighty' schtick, trying experiencing emotion for, like, two seconds and talk to him."

Miguel whipped his head toward her, but she had already disappeared, probably anticipating his argument.

He let out a heavy sigh into the stagnant air. He missed you more than he wanted to admit, even if he never got to know you nearly as well as he wanted.

For days, Miguel attempted to process the conversation.

You hadn't come to find him since he'd told you to leave days before, but he'd seen you around. You usually blended into the crowd right after, making him feel slightly guilty about telling you to leave.

He just brushed it off, going back to his work.

You, on the other hand, had no such plans.

Miguel was stubborn as an ox, but you weren't about to give up just because he asked you to leave.

If there was any hope he'd hear you out, you'd be willing to take the risk.

"What are you doing here?"

A question you expected to get. It was so much harder to answer when he was staring at you.

"Any chance we could talk?" You asked, half expecting him to close the door right there.

To your surprise, he stepped back, leading you into his (oddly dark) workspace.

"Let me j-"

"I wanted t-"

You both froze, hearing the other speak. You chuckled, gesturing to him.

He sighed, taking a breath. "I wanted to apologize."

"You did?" You blinked at him. Apologies weren't Miguel's thing (unless you made it clear you expected one)... maybe he was more different than you thought.

Miguel's expression was stiff, his mind still focused on you. "When you were alive, I didn't know you as well as I wanted to."

He watched your face shift, first in confusion, then in understanding.

You didn't need to hear it all right now. Or maybe he just wasn't ready to tell you.

But either way… "I'd like to get to know you now."

"Yeah! Yeah, I'd like that too." You agreed, nodding your head before remembering why you'd come in the first place. "I'm sorry for springing everything on you. I mean, it's a lot all at once… I didn't mean to force you to talk to me."

He nodded slowly. "You didn't. I… I want to do this."

"You do?" You asked again. Whether to be certain or just to hear him say it again, you didn't know.

"Yes."

And you felt truly, unashamedly happy for the first time in far too long.

#male reader #dom male reader #top male reader #miguel o'hara x male reader #miguel ohara x male reader #miguel x male reader #miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #atsv

356 notes · View notes

carionto · 5 months

Text

The spirit never dies, but please watch over it

(Previously)

"What are you doing, Captain?"

"What? Going outside of course. Uncharted lands and all that. You said the atmosphere is mostly harmless and I even put on my suit. You can't stop me, Zhao. I outrank you. So there!"

Captain Knoslark of the crash-landed Radiant Dusk at Everest made this declaration pretty much the moment the chief engineer said we weren't going to be flying anytime soon. Something about the warp jump frying all quantum-based computers and connections. Oh yeah, can't contact Earth or anyone really.

Turns out going through a hole in space-time really does breaks quantum entanglement, so that kinda sucks. Or perhaps even that has limits on distance, the furthest anyone tested was from one end of the Milky Way to the other. Or maybe there is something in the physics of space between galaxies that we don't understand yet.

Regardless, we're totally alone and roughly 12 to 30 billion light years from home, depending on if we landed in the target galaxy or one that moved into its place from the time when the light from it reached us. Every celestial body being unknown leaves a lot of room for guessing.

Now, given the circumstances, a normal ship and crew would not permit this and simply declare the captain unfit for duty and his second would take over. However, we are a crew of 27 civilian engineers, researchers, scientists, and technicians, and only a third have some military training, the captain not being one of them, and all of us are... a bit on the odd side.

In short, three people eagerly volunteered to join the captain on his expedition outside - Engineer Emily Halliday, Physicist/Botanist/Microchemist/(and like five other PhDs) Haespar Kraus, and Trisha, no last name, she just appeared aboard a few years back and is generally helpful and real fun to hang out with, she knows so much random trivia.

The world outside was... flat, but layered. Some areas only had very small types of vegetation, think like a grassy field, but orange with grey flower-like clusters everywhere. Then there is basically a hard cut wall of this deep red and brown bushes and small trees with super wide trunks that suddenly jut out in their area. And the tall spindly trees? that kinda resemble stretched out cobwebs and have this hazy transparent look to them except at the top where it's a really rich green field of dense foliage.

There's some variations further out, but that's the general idea. Almost like someone haphazardly painted with only base colors on a canvas and refused to mix or gradient them.

"We are entering the red bushes now. I feel a tingling sensation, Zhao. This is fun! I wonder if we'll encounter animals here. If we're stuck here for too long we'll have to start farming. I've always wanted to be a rancher, you know, but space beckoned me!"

"Yes, captain, I know. Please be careful and return from your trip soon. Trisha, knock him out if he tries to bring back a pet."

"I heard that, Zhao!" "I know, don't make Trisha knock you out." "Hmmph. You're no fun." "I am paid to not be, sir."

There was a bit of grumbling before Knoslark ended the call on his end. Thankfully, the other three kept their channels open, as you are meant to do, so the onboard crew always knew what was going on. Unfortunately, drones are one of the things that utilize quantum connections to operate, so it'll take time to refit them to receive radio signals.

Suddenly, nearly all of the scanners and receivers on the ship noticed a variety of new signals and distant sounds - explosions. Repeating ones. And... are those fireworks? Since the Dusk was grounded it couldn't really properly scan the whole planet, just the area immediately around them, so they had no idea if this was inhabited by anything resembling a civilization.

Not long after that, there were physical impact signals coming from the North-East side of the ship. Cameras revealed there were several groups of quadrupedal creatures not unlike rhinos with giraffe necks mounted by smaller bipedal ones that sorta resemble moths, but made of jelly and fish scales?

"Captain, Emily, Kraus, Trish! Get back to the Dusk right now, there's natives on this planet and they don't like the ship." Sergeant Zhao shouted into the comms.

"Gonna be a moment, Ying." Trisha replied, "The Cap'n got himself stuck on a tree. Some kinda sticky fungus lives on the higher branches, we're working on choppin' it down."

"Well hurry, the density of the heightened vegetation makes it impossible to see with our scanners what's inside. You might not have much time."

"We'll be done in a-

The words got cut off by the whole cobweb-tree area rapidly ascending, revealing a titanic creature of fur, mud, and countless short but lumbering limbs coming out of the ground, just as the local star began to set over this world. All other similar patches did the same. The shorter red bush areas then began to glow a faint blue releasing little clouds of dust just above. The titans made their way over these hazy spots, and remain stood there for the time being.

The assault on the Dusk by the locals had ceased during this commotion. Aside from the hum of the single active reactor, everyone was silent for a few minutes, broken by Trisha coming back on:

"Ying, we're fine it looks like, but you got a better view than us, what are we on?"

"Uhh, a giant... headless moss turtle thing? It's not the only one and seems did not act because of you, so you should be fine, but hurry back here." Sergeant Zhao then addressed the onboard crew:

"Drop whatever it is you're doing and get a shuttle working NOW. I don't care how basic, I'll fly it manually if need be. We are not leaving anyone out there!"

Continued->

#humans are space orcs #humans are space australians #humans are space oddities #humans are deathworlders #humanity fuck yeah #carionto #story #scifi

44 notes · View notes

picnokinesis · 2 months

Text

My friend is running a text-based rpg campaign, and I'm absolutely in love with it, so I decided to draw a 'cover' for each day in the story. We'll see if I can do one for each day, but I'm SO proud of how these turned out so far - all of them are inked in my notebook first, and then coloured digitally. If anyone's interested in the story, I've explained more about it all under the cut!

OKAY. So the game is called City of Mists, and basically it's...kinda hard to explain, but I'd call it 'cyberpunk noir', but with a 90s technological aesthetic. Kinda like when you read Issac Asimov's books and they're using computers but it's all cassettes and film-based technology. Anyway, it's awesome. Every character has a normal life in the city - their 'logos' - but there are some characters who are called Rifts, who have something mythological manifest within them - their 'mythos'. Now, the mythos can kinda be anything, but the point is that it's a legend or story that manifests within the character, and thus gives them new abilities. And every Rift has to balance their logos and their mythos - because to delve too much into your mythos means you forget your normal life and become entirely consumed by the mythos...but to focus too much on your logos means to lose, and forget, your mythos entirely. The 'mist' of the city obscures mythological and supernatural things from those who haven't 'awakened' yet - but Rifts can see through the mist.

So, my little guy is - sighs. Okay. Y'all are gonna laugh. Please be aware that I know, okay? I know. It's fine. This is a choice I've made. But he's called Nakis Sandhu, and he's an investigative journalist (NOT with amnesia) who, when he was a kid, was involved in a train accident that killed his parents, but him and his twin sister miraculously survived. He's trans, and he has a van - he doesn't live in it, thank goodness, but it is important because his mythos is Captain Nemo from 20,000 Leagues Under the Seas (this is why he looks like Sacha Dhawan, because like....Sacha Dhawan should play Captain Nemo and I'll die on that hill). And so Nakis, when his mythos awakened, turned his van into the Nautilus - Captain Nemo's submarine - and so it now works underwater too, and can travel undetected. He also becomes like, a technological genius and can invent stuff on the fly, but he never studied engineering or anything - it just comes to him in flashes of inspiration.

Nakis' main thing is that he's trying to figure out what happened in the train crash when he was a kid. He saw something different to everyone else, because he saw through the mist - what everyone else thought was an accident was actually two Rifts duking it out (I think). One of these Rifts was a blue bull that is apparently called 'the Bull of Thunder', and the other was a man with fire based abilities - called 'The Burning Man'. On Day 2, Nakis discovered a metal case that had belonged to the Burning Man, that had been hidden for twenty years - since the day of the accident - and was full of clues, including some photographic film that needed developing. Unfortunately, seems that there's a strange filter on the photos, so it's impossible to tell what's on them...luckily, my guy made friends with a photographer on Day 1 (who I believe is another player character) whilst investigating something else, and as a result he's now passed the film on to him, in the hopes that he'll be able to clear them up.

One funny thing: Day 0 was supposed to be a 'chill' day to figure out how the game mechanics worked, and figure out what your character would do on a normal day. Nakis immediately went to investigate something and then nearly ended up drowning RIP. On Day 1, when continuing to investigate the thing from Day 0, he...got shot in the shoulder HAHAHAH but he's fine, he's doing great, he didn't bleed out in his apartment which is always a win. He also bumped into another player character by doing this - so yay!

#taka draws #city of mists #uhhhhh idek what to tag this??#art #original art #digital art #SKSKS anyway it's like #if i had a nickel for every time i had an investigative journalist character with a van and a train crash related backstory #i'd have two nickels #which isn't a lot but it shows that i have a type SKSKKSSK #but yknow i wanted an investigator character #and i didn't want a police officer or detective or PI so....#ANYWAY #nakis sandhu

28 notes · View notes

emonydeborah · 5 months

Text

November fluff prompt 12: no one left behind

Una gripped the arms of her chair. Sparks flew and her ship groaned with the strain of staying in one piece. Out the viewscreen, the civilian ships warped out of danger, escorted by the rest of the fleet. She didn't smile, but her shoulders straightened with accomplishment.

The enemy ships were all but incapacitated. Only the lead ship continued to fire on her, and Una's ship rattled with each torpedo. Smoke filled the bridge but Una held fast, determined to go down with dignity.

Erica had objected to the evacuation, even more when Una ordered her to the escape pods. But she was gone, like the rest of the crew, and it had fallen to Una to lay in the final course. Shaking and shuddering with each blow, Una's ship crawled determinedly toward the enemy ship.

Una watched the enemy ship grow in the viewscreen, still firing on her but unable to get away. She expected regrets, but as the enemy ship got bigger, only the most extreme option made sense anymore. Of course this was how it would end.

The computer counted down the distance in a futile warning, and Una braced herself for the final screech of metal. Smoke filled her eyes, she couldn't see, she couldn't breathe-

"Got her!"

Una coughed harshly, lungs rattling with the effort of pulling in clean air. A young transporter tech she had never seen in her life puffed up with pride, looking absolutely elated.

"Crewman, what-?"

"You there Captain?" Erica's frantic voice crackled over the comms. Una blinked. The normally dim lights of a transporter room seemed unbearably bright.

"I'm here, Ortegas," Una croaked. A series of whoops and cheers burst through the comms. No one said anything else, and Una turned to the tech, bewildered.

There had been no other ship on her sensors. No other ship in communications range, except-

"Crewman, what ship is this?" she asked, and was gratified when he snapped to attention. Covered in soot and hoarse with smoke as she was, she couldn't have appeared very commanding.

"The Enterprise, Captain." He smiled. "Welcome back." Una attributed the pang in her stomach to an adrenaline crash, and squared her shoulders.

"I see. Is Captain Kirk-?"

The door swished open, and a horde of people swept in. Nyota and Christine seemed to be racing to be the first to hug her, and nearly bowled Una over in the process. Spock was next through the door, stoic as ever but for the tension in his jaw as he met her eyes. She nodded, and his shoulders dropped a centimeter. Erica clapped him on the shoulder, looking as rough as Una felt, and grinned.

"All right, let her breathe," the doctor groused as he pushed through the crowd. McCoy, Una remembered. "How are you, Captain?"

"A little confused," Una said dryly. Spock shifted closer as she took a shaky step off the transporter platform. He watched her intently as she looked around at all the familiar faces. "How did you get to me in time?"

"You are familiar with the Enterprise's capabilities, Captain," Spock said stiffly.

"We set a course as soon as we got your first distress call," Nyota said. McCoy stuck a tricorder in Una's face, grumbling about family reunions.

"They picked up my escape pod," Erica said. "You didn't think we were gonna leave you behind, sir?"

"There's no way you could have reasonably thought you would get to me in time," Una said incredulously.

"Who said anyone on this ship was reasonable?" Christine said. Una opened her mouth, but Christine cut her off. "Just say thank you, Captain." Una's jaw dropped, and Christine grinned. Erica muffled a snort.

Una closed her mouth and swallowed. Spock hadn't let up on his focus, like he was afraid she would disappear if he looked away. Nyota hovered around, brushing her arm against Spock's, and smiled when Una met her eyes. Christine backed off a few steps and Erica threw an arm around her shoulders. She let out an exhausted sigh.

Una's ship was gone, but her crew was safe, and her family was around her. "Thank you."

#una chin riley #erica ortegas #christine chapel #nyota uhura #spock #leonard mccoy #bones mccoy #snw #tos #strange new worlds #november fluff prompt #not pikeuna for once #and really long now that i'm looking at it

36 notes · View notes

ashonheavenscloud · 2 years

Text

Gentleman || Kim Seungmin (+18)

🔞CONTAINS EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT! MINORS DNI!🔞

⚠️warnings: dom!seungmin x sub!reader, fingering, teasing, praise, unprotected sex, swearing, size kink if you squint

word count: 2.9K

🎧: feel like - woodz

a/n: i wrote this one a while back, but there are not enough seungmin smuts out there so i’m here with my contribution!! seungmin’s hot and it’s about time we remembered that😵‍💫

———

The click of the front door opening and shutting alerted you of Seungmin’s arrival- late from work again. You were so close to snapping at his boss for overworking him, because this was the third night this week alone that he’d stayed at the office far past dinner time.

“Gosh…” you heard him mutter from down the hallway, his voice drifting to where you were seated at your bedroom desk with some chips and a few bottles of nail polish, the lavender colour just finishing drying on your nails.

Here were his footsteps, growing closer every second. “Min?”

After a few seconds, Seungmin’s figure appeared in the doorway, and you could tell he was absolutely pissed, eyes narrowed and glinting; jaw clenched.

“Babe?”

You could practically feel the frustration pulsing from him, but he just said in a low voice, “Long day.”

You collected your laptop and stashed it under the desk, along with a few scattered pencils. “I swear, I’m really going to kick that man’s ass one day. You already work hard enough…”

You lifted your gaze, and at once your words halted. Seungmin’s eyes were intently focused on you, and their dark gaze immediately had you frozen in place. There was something about them today- something about them right now- carefully soaking in every inch of you, that made you feel way too hot.

The room was filled with a tense silence, and all you could do was stare back. You felt a terrible need to move, to shift under his gaze, but you couldn’t seem to make your body compute. Not when he tucked his bottom lip under his teeth, eyes trailing your figure, and you could almost feel a shudder in the air.

You opened your mouth but couldn’t think of anything else to say for some reason, as the boy leaned against the doorframe, searing gaze never parting from you. At last, you couldn’t stand it and swallowed before speaking. “Seungmin…”

He suddenly pushed away from the frame, standing and taking long strides in your direction. There was a jolt in your gut, so violent it pretty much knocked the wind out of you as you quickly stood. You felt completely on edge, a tingle over your skin, the sense of anticipation that had all of your insides jumping. He neared, not saying a single word even when he paused in front of you, mere inches away.

You tried to collect your thoughts, which had all seemed to vanish at Seungmin’s proximity. His fingers were brushing your thighs ever so subtly, sparking a fiery warmth between your legs. His eyes were locked on yours, and you were frozen.

And you had to admit, anger on Seungmin? Dangerously attractive.

“Say it again.”

His heavy voice, just barely loud enough for you to hear it, was almost the final straw. You bit down on your bottom lip as the ache in your core grew. You swallowed roughly, forcing eye contact as you managed. “Say what?”

“My name.” Seungmin demanded, hands sliding up your thighs as he pulled you against him. You inhaled, hands finding his forearms to keep yourself balanced; Seungmin leaned into the crook of your neck, lips barely brushing your skin. “I missed hearing you say it.” He whispered slowly. “I missed you.”

His breath was hot on your neck, making it very hard to think in a straight line. “S- Seungmin-”

You barely had time to finish his name before his lips surprised you by crashing against yours. Your hands flew backwards to keep yourself balanced, nearly knocking over your bowl of chips in the process.

Neither of you noticed, too intently focused on one another- and god, how could you not when he sucked on your lips and made your mind go fuzzy as his hands gripped your waist tighter. In seconds he had you up on the desk, pinning you to the cold surface as his lips went wild with yours. His fingers pressed into your hips as your own digits found his dark hair to tangle into, raking through the locks harshly. He growled in the back of his throat, and nipped at your bottom lip; you gasped, allowing Seungmin to easily slide his tongue inside your mouth as his sloppy kisses deepened. The sensation was dizzying, and only made you kiss him back harder to hear his grunts and sighs of pleasure. Instinctively, your legs wound around his waist and pulled him even closer, his hardened length brushing your core through way too many layers of fabric.

At once, you pulled back to find his dark eyes practically dripping with desire. Whatever had gotten Seungmin so riled up, it had done a fantastic job.

“May I?” He murmured through laboured breaths, ever the gentleman- but his impatience was clear in his fingers already twitching up your thighs, absentmindedly playing with the fabric of your hoodie.

You nodded vaguely, the husk of his tone already setting your core on fire and making it hard to concentrate. But what you did know was that you needed him- now.

It took hardly another second for Seungmin to be all over you again, hands gripping your neck to pull you to him for a slow, passionate kiss. You responded eagerly, hands fumbling with his white dress shirt and slipping up even further on the buttons when Seungmin’s warm lips pressed to your neck. He found every sensitive spot along your jaw and behind your ear, kissing and sucking at your skin- and it took much too long for you to free his torso from the shirt. At last the fabric was peeled away, and you admired the coarse, flexing muscles of his arms and chest with your palms. Seungmin inhaled forcefully, and you felt him shiver under your touch before his hands rested on your thighs and crawled closer to where you needed him.

You whined, a plea of urgency, and Seungmin responded with fervour, quickly pushing aside your leggings and pressing his fingers to your clothed folds. He chuckled, breath warm against your neck. You were acutely aware of every small touch of his, as he softly rubbed you through the fabric. “So wet for me, baby.”

You squirmed, hands gripping his biceps to hold back the moan bubbling up your throat. Seungmin ripped away your panties, hesitating for only a moment before sinking his first finger deep inside of you.

You choked on a moan as your walls desperately clenched around him, hungry for any sense of friction. Seungmin slowly pumped into you, and your hands found his hair again to tug and yank at. That seemed to egg him forward even faster, as he inserted another digit and stretched you further. Heavy pants fell from both your lips as he dug deeper; every hit to your sweet spot made you whine senselessly, the knot in your gut tightening as you were brought closer to your high.

“Shit, you always drive me crazy.” Seungmin grunted as a third finger joined the mess and you cried out at your fast approaching orgasm.

“S-Seungmin- I-I’m gonna-”

He was merciless, stretching you incredibly and dancing his fingers along your slick walls. His lips found your mouth again, teeth dragging over your bottom lip as he whispered breathlessly, “Do it.”

With a stuttered groan you broke, squeezing your eyes tightly as your high washed over you. Seungmin slipped his fingers from your core, and you opened your eyes in time to see him discard his remaining clothes, his exposed cock angrily hard and dripping. Your thighs trembled in anticipation as he neared once again, grabbing your hand and gently kissing your knuckle, ever the gentleman.

Then his glittering eyes met yours. You didn’t need words for his intent to be clear.

He was going to fuck you senseless.

Just the thought alone had you weakening, thighs subconsciously trying to close off your aching core. You obviously weren’t subtle; Seungmin scoffed, hands coming to tightly grip your waist before he lifted you clean from the desk, only to flip you onto the nearby bed. With a gasp, your hands instinctively gripped his shoulders as your body was met with the cool sheets. They’d all been made up by Seungmin this morning and the idea of messing them up again was gasoline to your fire. Your legs shook greedily.

Seungmin smirked knowingly, hands moving to casually push aside your legs and spread you out for him. He admired you for a second, biting his lip as you tried desperately to control yourself. He was bare inches away, sliding his palms up your thighs to grab your hips before looking up into your eyes. To your amazement, he was grinning.

The cheeky little-

“Should I take my time with this one?” He mused in a low tone, stroking your sides absentmindedly. He inched closer, and your breathing hitched instinctively. This only made Seungmin chuckle. “Hmm? What do you think, baby?”

God- “I think-” he slid closer, and you inhaled sharply. “I think- you’re just as impatient as me.”

“Maybe.” He whispered, leaning forward to let the tip of his cock brush your skin. Your hands flew to grip the sheets as you held your breath, head spinning as he slowly teased you by gliding his length along your inner thigh with a knowing smirk.

“But I think I know who’ll last longer, too.”

His hands gripped your hips tightly as he lined up his length with your entrance. The tip of his cock brushed your clit and you stuttered out a needy whine at the feathery sensation. Quickly, Seungmin pulled back before brushing the sensitive nerves again; your breaths were coming in shaky as you gripped the desk with white knuckles. His cock wasn’t even inside and you were already starting to lose it.

He was leaning in closer, breath fanning your cheek as he whispered, “You’re so fun to tease, darling.”

Another brush to your clit made you inhale sharply, closing your eyes to the sensation. Your skin was tingling under every light touch of his, a shiver tracing your spine as Seungmin’s mouth pressed sloppily to your neck over and over. The urge to snap your legs together was growing with the desperate burn between them, but his body prevented you from doing anything of the sort. You squirmed, inhaling sharply as his fingertips skimmed your thighs. “S-Seungmin…”

“Darling, let me show you-” his words were interrupted by a wet kiss to your collarbone and the smallest nip. “Let me show you just how desperately I need you.”

Then at last he moved to part your folds, and slowly pushed his cock into your entrance. You gasped as his bulging size stretched intensely inside of you, stuttering out a muffled groan at the delicious feeling of his twitching length sliding along your walls. Vaguely you could hear Seungmin’s own soft groans as he shoved his cock deep inside of you, eyes heavy lidded and unfocused as they flickered shut. “God-”

The both of you choked out moans as Seungmin bottomed out. He filled you so utterly that you felt breathless at his size, core clenching around his cock desperately. With a grunt, Seungmin’s head fell against your shoulder, heavy hot breaths tickling your skin and sending a rush down your body.

“You’re s-so wet, baby. Oh-oh my god.” He groaned as you clenched again, hands clutching his wrists as he tightened his grip on your waist. Seungmin tilted his head back again, a sweaty sheen coating his golden skin.

“So fucking good, baby.” He panted, dark eyes finding yours as his thumbs moved up and down your sides. His pupils swam with lust as he leaned to take your lips with his, digging his tongue deeper into your mouth with each rough press. Your hands released their grip on the sheets momentarily to wrap your arms around Seungmin’s neck and wind your fingers through his hair, and run them along his fiery skin.

Ever so slowly, Seungmin pulled away, dragging his teeth along your bottom lip. His eyes flickered to yours again, complete with that dangerous shimmer as he smirked and dragged his cock out before quickly pushing back in. You gasped at the further stretch it gave you, fingers desperately grabbing Seungmin’s locks in a death grip. He didn’t give you a second to recover before repeating the movement, pulling out and slamming his hips back into yours. Needy whines escaped your lips; he was chuckling under his breath, but he wasn’t smiling. His dark eyes gazed at you, drinking you in, tongue darting out to wet his lips before murmuring,

“Look at me, love.”

Your eyes trailed up to meet his, hazy eyed and near delirium.

“Good girl.” He breathed, ramming into you again. Your back arched as his tip reached your sweet spot, lips pressed together as you whimpered senselessly. He didn’t relent, pounding into you and abusing the deepest parts of you as you struggled to find a tether for your sanity. His fingers dug into your sides as profanities tumbled from his lips, his rhythm never ceasing as he coaxed your bra from your chest and set his mouth to work on your right nipple. You gasped as his tongue swirled around the sensitive bud and squirmed, his cock dragging in and out of you at a ridiculously pleasurable pace. Every cell of your body felt on fire, as the ache in your core heightened and a familiar knot echoed its beginnings. Still, you kept your mouth tightly shut.

And somehow, Seungmin knew just how to make it worse.

He threw your legs over his shoulders, better angling himself to slam into you and hit spots you didn’t even know you had. Tears of pleasure blurred your vision as you gasped, hands bunching the sheets below you in a death grip as Seungmin pounded you into the mattress.

“Tell me how you feel, baby.” He rasped out with a quick snap of his hips. “Use your voice for me.”

His teeth skimmed your nipple, and with another roll of his hips, senseless, uncontrollable moans finally escaped from your mouth. He was too good at driving you crazy, leaving you a mindless mess underneath him. He swallowed up your sounds with rough kisses, hands still tightly gripping your waist with every repeated pound into you. The wet slap of your hips meeting were mixed with the sinful moans and pants from both of you as Seungmin’s movements grew sloppier and you could sense your climax approaching.

“Seungmin-” you choked out, interrupted by his mouth abusing your jawline, sharp nips sure to leave a blanket of his love marks tomorrow. He sucked along the column of your throat, pulling back with light pops before caressing your skin again with his tongue.

“Shit,” he groaned, sweat pouring down his face and bare chest. His golden skin glistened in the pale lamp light, heavy breaths heaving from his body. “I’m c-close too-”

You clenched around him with a loud groan, writhing underneath him. He felt so good, every twitch of his leaking cock inside of you driving you closer to the edge.

“Love- love, look-” he was cut off by a moan, as you clenched around him again. “L-Look at me.”

You could barely see, let alone look at him. His one hand slipped up your body and pulled your chin to face him- and your eyes focused on his, love drunk and sparkling.

And then with a final snap of his hips, you broke. With a groan your eyes rolled back, the wave of your high washing over you as you released all over Seungmin’s cock deep inside you. You heard Seungmin stutter out a moan as his own release coated your walls, and he rode through both your highs with a few last thrusts before collapsing beside you on the tangled sheets.

For a few minutes, you both just stayed there panting. Seungmin eventually moved, thumbs rubbing your sides as he gently kissed your bare shoulder. You opened your eyes to look at him, the fiery glint in his eyes faded to a calmer warmth.

“How do you feel, babe?”

“Good.” You whispered with a small smile, finding his hand to take with yours.

“I’m afraid I might have… gotten a little riled up.” Seungmin confessed, softly kissing your skin again with a sheepish smile.

“It’s okay.” You chuckled. “I didn’t mind.”

Seungmin raised an eyebrow, a slight smirk appearing on his face. “Oh, really-?”

“Seungmin!”

He just laughed before standing and scooping you into his arms, like the true gentleman he was. “Come on, darling, I’ll run a bath for us.”

———

likes + reblogs are always appreciated!! and you’re looking for more skz content, check out my sfw account @starryychan ~

thank you for reading!!🥀

527 notes · View notes

tropes-and-tales-archives · 2 days

Text

Sonny Carisi: I Need a Place to Stay

WC: 1,645

TW: Fluff.

AN: This was based on the prompt "I need a place to stay." And it's also the first piece I ever published on this hell-site!

Fridays were rarely calm at SVU, but the stars aligned in just the right way that you and your team found yourselves in a lull. Not that anyone was complaining – the week had been unusually busy, but nearly all of the cases were closed or ready for trial dates, and you and the other detectives finally had a moment to breathe. It was late afternoon, and Liv pulled on her coat and grabbed her bag.

“I’m heading out now,” she announced to you and the other detectives as she strode across the floor. “I’m taking advantage of the quiet and going to take Noah to that Lego movie.” She smiled and gestured towards the door. “I suggest you take advantage too.”

Your partner, Fin, immediately slammed his laptop shut and grabbed his own coat. “I’m right behind you, Liv.” He waved goodbye and disappeared with your boss on the elevator.

“I suppose it’d be nice to take Franny for a walk while the sun’s still out,” Amanda said.

“And to get a head start on the weekend,” you added with a smile. Amanda had been doing amazing at her recovery from her gambling addiction, but you knew that she still loved the thrill of watching sports – especially any and all playoffs. Tonight was game six of the American League playoffs between the Yankees and the Red Sox, and as a native Bostonian, you knew you were at odds with your fellow detectives.

“You got any plans?” she asked as she packed up her stuff.

You looked down at your computer screen and sighed. “Not really.”

“Well, take advantage of the calm here before it’s gone,” she said as she walked out the door. “You’re only young once.”

You waved her off with a smile and returned to your computer. The bullpen was quiet except for you and Sonny. The lanky Italian detective was furiously typing on his laptop, his brow furrowed at the screen. You watched him furtively, taking in the sight. His hair, usually perfectly gelled and shellacked into place, was a bit tousled, and a strand fell over his forehead into his eyes. He had taken off his jacket earlier, and the sleeves of his white shirt were half rolled up, revealing his fine hands. You fantasized about those hands more often then you wanted to admit even to yourself, and you felt your face turning red.

“Done!” Sonny exclaimed, closing his laptop. “I’ve got every piece of paperwork finished and caught up.” He turned to you and grinned. His smile was infectious, and you found yourself smiling back.

“You about done?” he asked as he stood up from his desk. “I’ll walk you out if you are.”

You ducked your head and blushed. “Actually….” You started to speak and then stopped for a moment. “I’m going to stay here tonight. In the crash room, I mean.”

Sonny cocked his head to one side and narrowed his blue eyes. “You’re gonna sleep here? Why?”

“I need a place to stay,” you mumbled. It was embarrassing – your building had a roach problem, and the landlord finally was going to fumigate the place over the weekend. It wasn’t your fault, but you hadn’t made many friends since you moved to New York from Boston. A handful of casual acquaintances, but no one close enough that you felt comfortable crashing on their couch for a few days. You explained the vermin problem to Sonny and hoped he didn’t judge you.

He frowned. “You can’t sleep here. Those cots in the crash room are disgusting and uncomfortable.” He looked at you a moment, his blue eyes searching your face.

“Stay with me,” he said. “My couch is super comfortable.” He tried to read your expression. “But only if you want,” he added, uncertain.

You thought about it. On one hand, Sonny was right: the crash room at SVU was disgusting. The cot mattresses were stained with god-knows-what, and the paint was peeling from the walls and ceiling, leaving little green flakes all over everything. On the other hand, you had a major crush on Sonny, and you handled it by being extra reserved around him at work. You imagined the potential pitfalls of staying at his place for a few days and shuddered.

“We can order pizza and watch the game tonight,” he added, and that sealed the deal for you. You nodded at him and grabbed your overnight bag from where you had stashed it under your desk. “Let’s go,” you said with a tentative smile.

********

The subway ride was short, and Sonny was uncharacteristically quiet, making a little small talk. He lived on a quiet street (for New York, that is), on a third-floor walk-up. Ever the gentleman, he had taken your bag from you and carried it, and you followed him up the stairs to his apartment. He hesitated when you reached his door.

“Can you wait here a minute?” he asked, shuffling his feet.

You nodded, and Sonny unlocked his door and disappeared inside. Through the door, you could hear muffled thuds and thumps and his footsteps. A moment later, the door swung open and he invited you in with a flourish.

“What was that about?” you asked as you walked past him.

The tips of his ears grew red. “It’s been awhile since I had company over. Had to make sure the place was presentable.”

You laughed and took off your coat. “So you shoved all your Playboys under the bed and tossed your beer can collection in the trash?”

Sonny’s ears got redder, but he grinned. “Something like that. Anyway, I’ll give you the tour and then we can order something for dinner. How’s that sound?”

“That sounds great, actually,” you replied. “I’m starving.”

********

It was the fifth inning of the ballgame, and you and Sonny had put away an extra-large pizza and more beer than you cared to count. You were both settled on the couch, Sonny’s legs stretched out and you curled up on the other side. The Yankees and the Red Sox were tied up, and the teasing, which had started out tentative, had reached a fever pitch.

“I’m just saying,” said Sonny, “we got twenty-seven titles to….how many World Series have you won again?”

You scoffed. “Maybe we don’t stack our roster with super expensive players.” Sonny laughed. “That’s the whole point of baseball, doll. To win! If you hadn’t traded away the Babe and cursed yourselves…”

You blushed at him calling you doll. “Who believes in curses at all, let alone sports curses?” you replied, hoping he didn’t notice your cheeks burning.

He laughed again and took a swig from his beer. You watched him out of the corner of your eye. Sonny was usually the squad’s resident ray of sunshine, but you could see a definite difference between Work Sonny and Casual Sonny. At home, his hair was tousled and messier, making him look years younger, almost boyish. The lines that were forming around his eyes were relaxed, and his blue eyes lit up as he told you about his grandpa taking him to Yankee games when he was a kid. He had changed out of his suit into worn jeans and a grey Henley, and his entire aura exuded a calm that made you forget your apartment situation and the fact that you were spending the night on your crush’s couch.

You had changed into more comfortable clothes too, the crash-room appropriate outfit you had packed for sleeping in. If you had known you’d be sleeping over at Sonny’s, you might have considered packing something other than your worn sweatpants and oversized tee-shirt…

Your mind drifted off as the two of you watched the game. Back and forth, the two teams stayed tied. You finished your beer and set the empty bottle on the coffee table in front of you. You felt a sudden chill and shivered.

Sonny saw, and he shot up from his place on the couch. “Sorry!” he said. “It can get a little cold in here in the fall. The landlord likes to wait to fire up the furnace, I think.” He reached past you and grabbed the blanket from the back of his couch.

“Here, take my blanket,” he said. He didn’t wait for you to answer or take it from him – instead, he stood over you and covered you gently with the blanket, tucking it around you until only your head peeped out.

“There,” he said, satisfied with his handiwork. Instead of returning to his place on the other side of the couch, he settled in beside you, wrapping one arm around your shoulder, rubbing you gently through the blanket. “Better?” he asked.

You nodded your head, unable to form words. Sonny kept his arm around you, and you cleared your throat.

“Thanks for letting me stay,” you said quietly. “I don’t have many friends in the city yet.”

“It’s no problem,” he murmured. He glanced down at you and smiled, his eyes as blue as the sky. The beer had gone to your head, making it feel fuzzy and warm. You closed your eyes and leaned against Sonny, taking in his warmth and the lingering smell of his cologne that you knew so well. His grey Henley was soft under your cheek, and you could hear the steady thump of his heart beating. The stress of the busy week drained out of you, and you felt yourself falling asleep. You felt Sonny shift slightly, pulling you in closer as he settled against the couch and adjusted the blanket around you. You were startled for a moment as he pressed a kiss to your forehead, but sleep pulled you back under almost immediately. You smiled as you heard him say, moments before you were asleep completely, “you have at least one friend here in the city.”

#sonny carisi #sonny carisi imagine #sonny carisi x reader #law and order svu #law and order svu fanfiction #tropes and tales

11 notes · View notes