#✦ ・ oliver. | 003 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pctcrparker · 2 years ago

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Oliver turned his head to the side when Maddie continued to talk about soaking. With the way she was still talking about it, Oliver was beginning to think that his girlfriend was serious about this whole thing. His eyebrows came together cautiously as he looked her over. “Okay…” he began, but it was when she brought up Kara joining them so that she would be the one jumping on the bed, that he knew she was totally messing with him. He knew that Maddie was more than well aware that she had nothing to worry about when it came to his relationship with Kara. He liked to think that by now, she was well aware that Oliver was nothing but a boy hopelessly in love with her and only her. He was positive that he could never love anything the way that he loved Maddie. But still, no matter how comfortable she may be with how close he and Kara are, there’s no way that Maddie would be okay Kara involved in any sort of sexual activity with him. Though, he knew that if he were to ask Kara if she wanted to be involved in this by jumping on the bed while he just laid there being inside of Maddie, his best friend would one hundred percent say yes. Without hesitation. But there was no way that Oliver himself would agree to that. “Oh, I get it. You’re being funny,” he said, lunging toward her and grabbing her by the waist before promptly picking her up and carrying her. “You know, it’s not very nice to tease me with these sort of things,” Oliver continued as he carried her over towards their bedroom. With a small ‘oof’, he plopped Maddie down onto their bed and he proceeded to move on top of her, essentially pinning her down against the mattress. “But you know, thinking about it, I don’t think I’d be able to do “soaking” with you.” He leaned in and captured her lips, kissing her until he pulled back just the slightest. “I’d be such a bad Mormon because I would not be able to hold back. I wouldn’t be able to help myself. Once I’m in…” He chuckled and kissed her again.

pctcrparker:

One thing that Oliver had learned about his girlfriend since they’ve not just started dating, but ever since they became friends, was that Maddie could actually be quite devious. She had a sense of humor that a lot of people would be quite surprised to find out. Given her personality, she did give off a certain vibe to her, but she was more than just sweet smiles and deep dimples and sparking eyes. Oh, no. Behind that smile was the type of girl who laughed her hardest whenever she saw comedy movies aimed at teenage boys. She wasn’t as innocent as she may come off as. But even though Oliver already knew this about her, it still at times caught him off guard whenever she’d tease around like this. That was when she asked him if he wanted to soak with her, his brain short circuited. Not only because she just threw that question in there out of nowhere, but when it came to Maddie, Oliver tended to be on horny mode all the time. That wasn’t even an exaggeration. If anything, it was putting it lightly. So yeah, even though the idea of the two of them soaking was rather ridiculous since they’ve had plenty of real sex since getting together, doing anything sexual with Maddie turned Oliver into a bumbling fool. His eyes widened when she stepped closer to him after she repeated the question to him. Which helped him realize that he hadn’t just imagined her saying that. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders and he shuddered at the contact. When she stepped back, Oliver immediately reached over and grabbed her by the wrist. “No, wait. I didn—” He cut himself off when Maddie went on about saving himself for God, and that was when he realized that yes, she was most definitely messing with him. “Ha. Ha. Forgot how much my girlfriend was a comedian.” He said, pulling her into him as he’d still been holding onto her wrist. “I was going to say yes, you know. Even though it’s not like you don’t know what having my penis inside you feels like.” He smirked, moving his hands to her hips as he leaned in to kiss her. “It wouldn’t have worked out anyway,” he then added after pulling back. “We’d have to find someone to jump on the bed with us, and I don’t know if I’d be ready for that.”

Maddie knew that whenever people saw her they had this idea that she was an innocent person. They would always be shocked whenever they found out she was a model and that she has modelled for lingerie. For some reason, people always had this misconception of her being some innocent virgin. So they were even more shocked to find out she enjoyed college humour type of movies. Watching the reaction from her boyfriend’s face when she asked him if he wanted to soak with her, Maddie tried to keep the smirk at bay. She knew that Oliver was very much a horny guy when it came to her, though she wasn’t one to talk considering she was also a very horny person when it came to him. And she wasn’t joking when she asked him if he wanted to try soaking with her. Sex with Oliver was one of the greatest experiences Maddie has ever had in her life. She couldn’t help but tease him though and ask him if he was saving himself for God. It was far too amusing to see the look of horror on Oliver’s face as she knew he was the farthest thing from religious. Throwing her head back and laughing when he pulled her into him and made it clear he was not happy with her little joke, Maddie scrunched her nose at him and stuck her tongue out at her boyfriend. Wrapping her arms around him as he pulled her in for a kiss, Maddie sighed, feeling so in love with this man. Maddie then pouted at what he said. “We don’t have to have someone jump on the bed,” she stated. “I-I mean you could just lay there inside me,” Maddie teased with a smirk, pulling him closer to her. “Or we could always have Kara jump on the bed.” Maddie honestly wouldn’t even be surprised if Kara was actually willing to jump on the bed for them. The brunette understood that there weren’t a lot of boundaries between Oliver and Kara. She knew that the two of them discussed their sex life with one another and Maddie never felt threatened by it. She trusted both Oliver and Kara as she knew that if they did want to end up together, they would have started dating a long time ago before she and Matt came into their lives. “So, what do you say? You want to try soaking with me?”

#oliver #oliverxmaddie #oliverxmaddie:003

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cherryrikis · 7 months ago

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THE THING WITH STRAWBERRIES

PAIRING ; dancer!nishimura riki x news reporter!fem reader

WARNINGS ; swearing, drinking, a lot of talk about marriage (not necessarily a warning tho), all characters are at least 21

GENRE ; smau, humor, fluff, drama (and lots of it), love at first sight, olive theory, strangers to lovers(ish), set in new york

SYNOPSIS ; after riki’s roommate/best friend gets engaged, it has him thinking that he should finally find someone to settle down with. so when your eyes first met, riki was sure you’d be the one he’d marry. you just didn’t know it yet. — (riki loves strawberries. you? hate it. maybe that’s why he thought you’re so perfect).

STATUS ; discontinued

taglist is open!

PROFILES -> the friend group

EPISODE 001 | riki’s perfect dream girl

EPISODE 002 | think i love you

EPISODE 003 | olive theory

EPISODE 004 | a very small world

EPISODE 005 | the elephant in the room

this series follows the same format as one less lonely girl (half written/half smau)

this is a repost bc i accidentally deleted the og ( if u were on the old taglist, ur still added ^^ )

#enhypen x reader #enhypen #niki smau #niki x reader #enhypen imagines #enhypen niki #enhypen scenarios #enhypen smau #nishimura riki #riki x reader #serena writes ! riki

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aphelionatseven · 5 months ago

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Op. 71 Act 1, Scene 1: Regali Teneri: winter warmers day 003

✶ prompts: dildo | holding hands

✶ ship: pierresteban

✶ words: 1,593

+ a little song

Charlie

[Voice Message—0:35]

Transcript:

“Cheri! Uh, was wondering if you and Este would want to join Max and I at the symphony this evening? Or is it the ballet?”

Max sounds grumpy as he supplies, “Ballet. The Nutcracker.”

“Yeah! What it is the, um, rat king and all that. The one with—” Charles starts singing the Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy, horribly off key.

“Please say yes, Pierre, or else I’ll be stuck next to the FIA dick sucker—” “That’s rude, Maxie, he is only doing his job—” “I do not care he is of course a cunt who pushes bullshit—”

Pierre snorts as the bickering gets cut off, and even if he does ponder on it for a split second, his reply gets typed out faster.

pierre

I’m sorry, mon amie, but I’ve got sim training to do. Surely you can just put Max on the end so he doesn’t even have to look at George?

As he goes to lock his phone and continue with the monotonous task of cutting up lettuce for his salad, Charles’ contact shows up on a screen. With a reluctant sigh, Pierre shoves his phone in between his ear and shoulder, then answers with a tsk.

“Charles, as I said I am busy. I cannot magically move around my schedule.”

He can practically hear Charles pouting, “Oh, you are such a liar. We are all in London, non? So, it will be a lovely double date!”

“Date?” Pierre sputters, narrowly slicing his finger, “Non, ce ne sera pas un rendez-vous. For me, at least.”

Charles sounds so confused, even Max has to chime in, “Este talked to me about you for so long in Qatar. Everything is good now, right? So I do not see the issue.”

Pierre thinks he must have cut something somewhere and died from blood loss, then woke up in a world where everyone thought he was back to being in love with his ex teammate-best friend-boyfriend-whatever. All because of a 2-3 that really was just gifted to them. Utter nonsense.

“Mon amie? S’il te plaǐt? I can video call you and plead with puppy eyes if you are not swayed!”

“Jesus,” Pierre mumbles and rubs a hand down his face, “Sure, fine. Merveilleux. Just text me the address, d’accord?”

Charles giggles, all proud of himself, “Wonderful! I’ll see you at eight!”

—

It wasn’t hard. It wasn’t like—equivalent to shunting it on a formation lap or equal to whatever Esteban must have felt when he was thrown out before Abu Dhabi or when he got the call from his ex about—it wasn’t a soul crushing thing to do. To open up the short string of blue and grey code between him and the person stuck firmly in whatever invisible string held Pierre’s life.

Pierre

Hey man!

No. Too informal. This is a date, gotta make him think it actually is, right? That seems to be the best course of action; think of it as revenge given too late.

Pierre

Hi copain! Max and Charles have two extra spots for the Nutcracker tonight.

Pierre thinks he might bite down through to the bone before he lets his thumb press onto another letter. It’s fine. Deep breath, it’s not hard, this isn’t hard.

Pierre

Hi copain! Max and Charles have two extra spots for the Nutcracker tonight, at 8:30. Would you want to tag along with us? Max would appreciate it, since the other option is George and Carmen.

Delivered.

He winces as he bites down on an olive with its pit still intact, and nearly chokes when Esteban’s reply comes through almost instantly.

Esteban

That sounds wonderful! Is 7:30 a good time to come pick you up, chéri?

Read 2:15pm

God. Jesus. Fuck. Pierre stabs the remaining sad pieces of lettuce with his fork and screams into his hands. He thinks about wishing he had choked on the olive pit.

Pierre

Sounds good. Charles said to dress nice!

Delivered

“No, he fucking didn’t! What am I, sixteen again?” Pierre wallows to the open air of his flat, and flings his head against the back of the couch. Who was he, wanting Esteban to dress nice because, yeah, so what, he looks really fucking good in a suit. Pierre hopes a blizzard blows in and freezes him to death so that he never has to even think of doing something like this again.

Esteban

I’ll put on my very best for you, calamar ;)

Read 2:20pm

Pierre grinds his teeth together and takes another deep breath to suppress another frustrated, throat scratching groan. He glances at the clock and does it anyway. Five and half hours. He’ll make it.

—

He barely drags himself out into the front lobby.

His hands are stuffed into his Burberry coat as he waits, grateful Charles wasn’t forcing them into going to Covent Garden or something ridiculously unfun—sure, the ballet was equally miserable to Pierre, but at least there wouldn’t be a sea of tourists to push through just for a dried up overpriced mince pie.

“Ah, there he is,” and Pierre swears he must have fallen into the fire, with how his face heats up at the sight of Esteban—a neatly pressed dark burgundy velvet suit, an obnoxiously adorable bow tie, and his perfectly fit black coat. Merde, “I was worried I overdid it with the festivity.”

Pierre clears his throat and opts to set his gaze on the Christmas tree that’s illuminating the halo of Esteban’s slicked back hair, “Surely Max will make us all look overdressed. As long as there is wine, I will be happy anyway.”

There’s a few moments of ungodly awkward silence before Pierre steps forward a little, “Before we go, I am…” He digs his nails into his palms and his shoulders feel like they’re about to snap with how tense they are, “I am sorry. I wish you had more time, to make a proper goodbye and all. C'est injuste.”

And the guilt washes in the second Pierre sees the genuine hurt flash in Esteban’s expression, how he sadly smiles with those stupidly fucking adorable teeth, “What does Charles say? It is like this. At least I did not end up in Daniel’s boat. Que sera, sera,” he opens up the lobby door and gestures for Pierre to go first, “Prettiest out first.”

“Ever the charmer,” Pierre rolls his eyes and buries himself into his scarf, willing it will hide the blush that hasn’t left under his eyes. Once Esteban is distracted by fiddling for his keys, he mumbles, “You look really good.”

Esteban’s eyebrows fly up and he doesn’t even try to hide his grin, “Hm? What was that, again?”

“Oh, s'il te plaît arrête, you heard me!”

“Still so small and angry, calamar,” Esteban laughs, leading them down the snow covered sidewalk to his car, “It is wonderful how so much but so little changes.”

Pierre doesn’t question the sudden philosophical ramblings, too busy mulling over every decision he’s ever made that landed him in this situation. He thinks about feigning a migraine, or a fever, or near death—anything to avoid being in such close proximity to Esteban for any longer than he has to. Pierre had finally gotten rid of him; he was Ollie’s problem now.

Fine. It’s fine. He can handle a few more hours. And if he wishes those hours were more plentiful, absolutely no one has to know.

And the car ride, it’s short, it’s fine, it’s tolerable. Up until they park, Pierre unbuckles his seatbelt and reaches for the door handle—Esteban loudly protests, “Nuh uh! Getting the door is my job, mon chou.”

��Aie pitié de moi, I am not a child,” Pierre sighs into his hands and waits impatiently as Esteban comes around the side to let him out. It would be something to write away into a box to be burnt, until Esteban shuts said door, locks said car and then he’s—he’s.

His gloved fingers are intertwining with Pierre’s like it’s as easy as breathing, “Bonsoir, Charles, Max!” Esteban calls to the couple huddled beside a space heater, all along dragging a stunned Pierre behind him.

His brain has been reduced to static and the soul crushing nostalgic feeling that the warmth of Esteban’s hand is giving him. It’s perfect, how they fit together. It’s like going home and sliding into the car for the first time pre-season and slipping on a favorite hoodie that smells like asphalt and expensive cologne. Which, Esteban is certainly wearing his nicest–all smoke and earthy leather.

Pierre didn’t even realize he was aching for that missing piece—Esteban’s arm pressed up against his as they sit in their rented out box seats. The way he laughs at Max’s horrible jokes and the way his eyes crinkle at the photos of Leo he gets shown. Through every instance of small talk, his grasp at Pierre’s hand never falters. Esteban rubs his thumbs in circles, squeezes absentmindedly. Like they never stopped doing this. Like no binds had ever been severed and Évreux was just outside the back door.

Once the lights dim and the ballet begins, Pierre finally looks over at Esteban, who is staring right back. All childhood wonder and glimmering hope—they’re teenagers again, they’re screaming in a hotel room, they’re crying in Pierre’s driver's room in Brazil. The first note plays and Pierre decides to swallow down the lump in his throat, in favor of squeezing Esteban’s hand back as tight as he can. To convey something. To keep him there, long after the curtains fall.

#the library #pierresteban #pierre gasly #esteban ocon #eo31 #pg10 #very much threw this together .. not my best but . wanted it out anyway #enjoy da read #winterwarmers2024

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asteroidxblves · 1 year ago

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-- oliver ' oli ' scott [ x , x ]

#003 . oliver scott ( visage ! )#011 . oliver scott ( aesthetics ! )

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novadodson · 1 year ago

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"I don't think sex is satisfactory for anyone if it's not being curated to fit them. — Or at least...not as satisfactory as it could be." It was an important aspect of having a genuinely pleasant experience, wasn't it? Being able to understand and alter the circumstances in order to better align with your partners needs. Everyone had different tastes and preferences; unlikely you would end up with two people who were searching for the exact same things in the bedroom, if you were really taking the time to seek out their desires. "Toys aren't just for single use, baby." They could be, of course — but Nova was pro-toys at any point, with anyone. A tool that tended to enhance experiences rather than diminish them. "Though I'm not sure focusing on them and refraining from sex is the proper tool for gaining back someone's trust." After all, it hadn't been the physical act that had landed him and Monty in their mess — but he was sure Ollie didn't need the reminder. "Have you talked to him?"

"Thanks, Ol." Nova had never been great with words and letters — but they did feel guilty; guilty knowing that Sam was locked away when she shouldn't have been, guilty knowing what that place could be like that, guilty knowing there was little they could do to help her, and guilty knowing they couldn't even be there for her in the way she deserved. He'd find the words, he had to. "I might just take you up on that."

His next question completely stills Nova, fingers locking around the item in his hands and eyes pressing shut. He wanted to tell Ollie yes, to give him the assurance that he was sure he needed in that moment — but it wasn't that simple. "She's doing just fine." A pause before he turns, smiles, like all is well. "It's Sam. If anyone can find a way to thrive in prison, it's her." Though as soon as the joke leaves their lips, even they grimace — it wasn't exactly humorous material. "There's not much we can do, Ollie. Interaction is the best thing for her. — And putting money on her books, which...I've been trying to be regular about. Not that I'm sure she'll bother using it." Though he wishes she would. It was the help he could offer that wasn't legal, that would grant some assistance and hopefully, something to ease the strain on her grandparents, both mentally and financially. "Everything else is just...waiting til this shit gets dropped or they resolve it in court." Which it would — it had to.

Seven times out of ten a guy with a dick not knowing what to do with it felt about right to Ollie. Hooking up with ten guys and only having a good time with about three of them lined up pretty well with his experiences, might even be over estimating. "You know, my sex life became so much better when I actually started curating it to the people I actually know," he admitted, as if that was groundbreaking. But it had really helped him. He fell off the wagon during a few points during the summer for reasons, but he was back on it again now. Though after a moment of staring at the books in front of him for much too long he turned to look at Nova. "Maybe just sticking to toys is a good idea. You know, cut out the other person entirely. Right? Just stop fucking around with people. Like that might solve a lot of my problems. Monty doesn't trust me… Maybe it'll help show him that he can." Ollie looked sheepish, and shook his head, "is that stupid? I don't know… Maybe it's a good idea." He muttered as he turned back to the shelf. Ollie snorted, tilting his head back a little bit, "I'd offer to look but Ash hates me already for some reason. So, it's probably best if I stay about 50 yards away from him at all times." 'For some reason'.

He nodded his head a little bit. That made sense he supposed. If Sam's grandpa had thought he would be bad for Sam's image then he couldn't imagine Nova would be great. A sad reality. "If you want to write her something I could give it to her," Ollie offered. He was quite for a while after that, trying to think of everything they should talk about but really just came up with knowing she would want him to describe the Barbie movie in excruciating detail. Maybe they'd talk about other things the next time but he imagined that would fill up most of the time this time around. "Do you think she's doing okay in there? I just… I don't know what I'm supposed to do to help, you know? I don't like not knowing what I'm supposed to be doing…"

#• “are we alone” → INTERACTIONS •#• oliver inoue → FEATURING •#• oliver inoue → INTERACTIONS •#• oliver inoue → INTERACTION 003 •#this feels not good im so sorry #my words were not word-ing like i wanted

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sailorskunk · 2 months ago

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003. PLAYING FOR TIME.

Silverv, canon divergent, fix it fic.

☔️ about.

☔️ word count: 3.5k.

☔️ tags/warnings: none. also, sorry for the late posting.

☔️ playlist: wolf - first aid kit, things we used to do - oliver tree, night city - artemis delta

Reality slowly glowed in by the golden light reflected off your floor. This was it, the first day of the rest of your life. At least you weren’t having to call Mama Welles to see what she was doing for Jackie’s funeral. Or having to play cat and mouse with Evelyn, whatever might’ve happened to her had she not had the retrospect not to jack herself back in.

You rolled in your bed and glanced back up to the framed picture hanging on your wall now, courtesy of Jack’s mom. You were amazed by the certainty in Jackie’s gaze, the levity in spirit Misty brought to the table. Even Vik, for all his machoness, or fatherliness as it could sometimes be, looked light as a feather.

“My, my,” said a voice. “Look at you. Dyin’ and everybody loves you. Kinda makes me jealous.”

When he appeared right beside you, right in your bed, even down to a tousle of his hair laying across the mattress, you jerked upward. The little blue glitches running through him when haywire until he rested his pixels. “Mm, ‘cause you were so fond of having people like you,” you replied, rolling up out of bed.

“Where’s your smokes?” Johnny said. “I fuckin’ need one.”

“You’re cut off, sorry,” you replied. “Maybe your body was a dumpster, but mine’s… not quite a temple. But close. If you squint.” You began pulling your clothes from the floor, sniffing here and there, trying to find something you could just pull on and go. And yet, you could feel it, too. That nervous tension that made it entirely possible you could crawl out of your own skin. You thought maybe you could find something to take the edge off, but you weren’t keen on ash and ember.

As you started to leave your apartment, possibly for the last time, as you needed to find another place so H10 could rent this place out to someone who doesn’t know what happened here, you found yourself stopping short.

“Think you’re just gonna leave me behind?” Johnny appeared just long enough to push you backward.

You stifled a laugh. “I can’t leave you behind. You’re in my brain, like a tumor.”

Your hand moved against your will, static rising up your spine. Your ears were ringing, and you could hear him pacing. “Can’t be. I gotta be out there, somewhere.” The desperation in his voice made your stomach turn.

He was over you in a second, his glasses not reflecting anything at all. “And that shit about the dreams? The hallucinations? Cry me a fuckin’ river.” He spit, and you reacted as if he’d really gotten a hit against your face. You briefly even thought you felt it, a hand flying to your cheek.

“Let’s… Can we just cool it, Johnny? Please? I know you’re scared.”

“You’re the one who’s fuckin’ scared!” He shouted, the sound of his voice reverberating in your chest. A cool mechanical hand moved to rest against your throat. “Me? I don’t give a fuck. I’ll figure this out. I’ll take your fuckin’ body if I gotta.”

You moved your hand to grab his wrist, as if he was really there. Instead of something solid, there was more static, as if his intent was an inch from being physically realized.

“We can be friends,” you offered. If you really meant it, you weren’t sure. The hand only seemed to tighten. While looking into the red tint of his glasses, counting the scraggly hairs on his chin, you reached down for the omega blockers.

“The fuck we can,” Johnny growled. You could hear the metallic tangs of his metal hand as they tightened.

But it was when the door opened that you let out a breath you’d been holding, scuttling off the floor. Johnny was nowhere to be seen. The omega blockers were in the pocket of your pants, and you were now free to get them – “Lookin’ a little put out, hermana,” Jack said, resting an arm against the door frame.

The megabuilding outside your door was quietly bustling. That same fucking guy always sitting outside in the atrium was always on his phone, as if nothing was happening. As if nothing ever happened in Night City. “Might just be, Jackie,” you answered. You swallowed a pill dry and ran a hand through your hair.

“Came to get you for a bite,” he murmured. “But, the thing is…” He pulled something from behind his back, first one, then another.

“Your pistols?”

Jackie let his shoulders roll, lips in a tight line. You could see he didn’t want to put them down. But here they were, golden, gleaming, held out in his hands. “Listen. I’ve still got what I need to protect me, Misty. If I gotta, y’know. But la chingona dorada deserve to see action.”

You took one of the TsunamI Nues and held it by the grip, finger off the trigger. “You should keep one,” you said. “Like, we’re two best friends with two matching guns.”

Jackie’s quick grin was soft, then sarcastic, then gone. “These are a merc’s pieces. Fuckin’ look like a poser whippin’ em out.”

You snorted. “You were almost killed by Arasaka. Twice. That’s some merc shit if I’ve ever heard it.” The static flooding your spine, the anxiety, it was slowly fading.

“So were you. And you can still physically take it.”

You walked over to your wardrobe and started picking out things to wear. “I love Vik, but… I dunno. Maybe you should get a second opinion.”

You heard Jackie sit in your computer chair, hinges creaking under his weight. “Now who’s the one always lookin’ on the bright side? You know Vik wouldn’t say it if he wasn’t sure or if he didn’t mean it. I even feel it. Get light headed all the time now, feel all weak. And all I got is a synth liver and some pins in my back. Not even a blood pump or an operating system. I’m done, V.”

When you turned to look at him, his fists were tight, as tight as they could get. There was a graveness in his eyes that made you more angry than it should have. Your own fist clenched and your knuckles beat a dent into the wall. “Just give it some fuckin’ time.” Jackie’s gun, in your other hand, suddenly felt intensely hot, heavy. It was its own kind of singularity. Placing the piece on your computer desk, you looked at Jackie sincerely. “We don’t know what’s gonna happen. Some shit we’re only going to think about in retrospect… Like how much of a piece of shit Dex was, how just about everybody told me so, and we both still greenlit this dumbass shit.”

You bent partially over the chair, practically touching noses with him. “We’re not done yet, okay? We’re not done.”

You managed to move to rest against the wall that led into the bathroom. “Sling some drinks. Tinker.”

Jackie closed his eyes. He wasn’t going to say it out loud, but neither of you were made for that, were you? Pretending any different felt… Unrealistic to the nature realized in the both of you on the eve of the heist. Briefly, as briefly as it could be, the both of you could envision your lives as at least mid tier mercs. Maybe nothing like Morgan Blackhand, certainly nothing like Adam Smasher… But residents of the Afterlife, nonetheless.

“Why’re you here? This early?” You were suddenly aware you weren’t exactly sure what time it was.

“Sun’s setting, chica,” Jackie replied.

“Fine enough,” you whispered. “I gotta go meet Evelyn. Says she still wants to figure some shit with this thing out.”

Jack had his eyes closed, a grin on his face, hands on his knees, elbows out – almost like he was about to get up but hadn’t quite decided to yet. “Was about to ask if you wanted somebody to tag along, then I realized hitting up a doll on Jig Jig is a one man job.”

You snickered at the implication. It wasn’t like you were against it, but you had bigger fish to fry.

“We should go out for drinks with Misty later,” you said. Your hand went to his shoulder, and he glanced up at you. His face looked just as forlorn as the night you both went to the Afterlife to meet Dex and Jack had just gotten off the phone with Mama Welles.

“What, later? ‘Cause you got trabajar to attend to?” He sucked his teeth. You knew he didn’t want to get up, that he was looking, or waiting for something. Something you knew wasn’t safe to offer him.

“Yes,” you told him. “Got biz. Biz you can’t follow me on, if Vik is right.” Your hand was still on his shoulder, the leather of his plain blue jacket sticky against your clammy hand. He wasn’t wearing his valentino gear anymore. It hadn’t seemed like it only a short time ago, but if he couldn’t pack a combat stim of some kind, he was an inevitable target with all that shit on. “But listen. You and me and Misty? We’ll go down to Kabuki, get some drinks when I get back. Okay?”

Jackie stiffened, slowly moving to stand. He was trembling a little, and you know by the heat coming off him that it wasn’t because he was weak. “Jack?” you asked.

“Fuckin’ sound like a pathetic side piece just vying for some attention,” he grunted.

You chuffed at the implication. “Stop it, Jack. You know if things were different, we’d be doing all this together.”

He sighed. You could see it better than he was willing to show when he and Misty had brought you back home. You didn’t want to think about the alternative, though.

“This is dogshit,” you said. “But like we agreed, Jack. We’re gonna figure it out.”

On Jig Jig street, an hour later, the sun had set and the air in Night City was surprisingly cool. You thought about that chick, Judy, briefly as you surveyed the cut off street and its innards. You knew Wakako was nearby, knew there was a shitty ripper over that way.

It was along an enclosed walkway that you saw her. Evelyn’s hair was dark, dress a shining layer of latex against her skin. From something like ten feet away, you noticed the care taken with her makeup, a kind of wet wine eyeshadow reflecting light underneath the smokey neon littering the walkway.

“Ev,” you called, and she turned, but she didn’t exactly look like she was willing to be called by her name.

“Hey,” she said, eyes darting around randomly. She’d just finished smoking a cigarette, and the butt was on the ground and the smoke still hung in the air.

“Hey,” you repeated, hands clinging to the pockets of your slim fits. “Wanna… get some food or something?”

She cleared her throat, and glanced behind you briefly. “I have a room,” she said, and she’d already started walking to a tall teal building, boxy windows. “Thanks for coming,” she added, glancing over her shoulder toward you.

You had passing thoughts about the no tell motel, about that attempted meeting with Dex. This didn’t feel like that – Evelyn was scared, and she had plenty of reason to be. As you followed her, you began realizing things along the way. The VDBs could be anywhere immaterial it seemed, at least through the net. Working the street was a clear and very specific alternative to whatever she’d been doing before, which required her to be connected to the net.

And if the VDBs were looking for her, or she had reason to not make it easy for them to find her… Then it was likely she double crossed them in some way. They had to have known. Everyone knew about Konpeki, even if they didn’t know who was behind it. You were reminded that she even wanted to cut Dex out.

This left you and her, her room, and la chingona dorada in her thigh holster. “E,” you said, stopping at the foot of chipped concrete stairs. She was headed for an interior door.

Evelyn glanced down. “V?”

“Please don’t be fucking me over right now,” you breathed.

Evelyn sniffed. “It’s not like that, V. I promise. On my life.”

You followed her up the stairs, and the door slid open to a single room, the bathroom separated by a paper divider. The decorations were scant, but it looked recently cleaned. With few hiding spots for anyone to be, you were satisfied to stand as Evelyn pressed some buttons on a drink maker.

“You need to find some way to contact Maman Brigitte,” she said casually. Her voice had more strength behind it, as if she finally felt safe. She turned, and handed you a warm cup of green tea. Her mouth was in a soft smile. There was something in her eyes that you couldn’t quite decipher.

“She’s the leader?”

“Yeah,” Evelyn answered, sipping at her own cup. She scrunched her face, and went to the mini fridge and poured something milky into her cup. “She was the one that originally contacted me to get information on Yorinobu’s suite.”

“You heard from him?”

That made Evelyn pause. “Why?”

“Just curious,” you said. “Jackie asked me why I thought the guy started the Steel Dragons. After watching him off his father, among other shit, I…”

You let your voice trail off. There wasn’t any real reason for you to contact Yorinobu. Maybe to surpass Takemura, but you weren’t exactly keen on joining sides with the emperor’s son unless you had some insight as to why he hated his father and his legacy so fucking much. “This fuckin’ guy, his name is Takemura. He approached me about getting revenge for Saburo’s death, in a roundabout way. I’m not sure I want that as my only option.”

Evelyn sipped her cup. “And you don’t think Takemura can help you?”

You shrugged. “I think he can. But I worked for Arasaka. I know what the fuck it is.”

“So what does that tell you about Yorinobu?” Evelyn’s brows lifted. She was telling you something, but you weren’t sure what it was.

“You got his info?”

Evelyn snorted. “As if. But he’s got my info. Not that he’ll try to contact me now, knowing what he probably knows. I don’t know Takemura, but chances are he’s loyal. Beyond loyal. And it’s likely his specific way of thinking will only lead to one thing.”

She was sitting cross legged in a barrel chair, leaned back, the glass cup in one golden tipped hand.

“What’s that?” you asked.

“He’ll tell Yorinobu something that will get him on a shitlist. Since – well. Yorinobu is now officially Arasaka sama, huh?”

You moved to sit at the edge of the bed. “Tell me the game,” you said. “Whatever you know. Help me.”

“You heard him on the BD,” Evelyn said, lighting a cigarette. “He didn’t like how Saburo ran things, so he stole his pet project. Whatever happened afterwards is a direct result of his distaste for his father and the Arasaka legacy. It’s unlikely that a hardwired Arasaka goon wants a different agenda than the man that gave him a quality of life. If that’s Takemura, then…” She shrugged, and took a drag. “But I don’t know him. I barely knew Yorinobu. I was just a toy.”

You sipped the bitter tea and swallowed it. “You think they know you were behind the heist? That’s the important part. Probably the most important, right now.”

Evelyn exhaled a tendril of smoke. “I don’t know. I operate like they do, though. I operate like the VDBs are after me, too.”

You rolled your shoulders, trying to ease some of the tension at the base of your neck. “Send me his last known contact info.”

Evelyn pursed her lips. “Just don’t tell him it was me. If he doesn’t know, don’t tell him.”

Yorinobu’s information flashed across your kiroshis. “I won’t,” you answered. “Promise.”

“Why not ask Takemura?”

You glanced around the room. “If Yorinobu sent ‘Saka ninjas after him for finding out who was behind the heist, then… Well. Takemura, I’m sure, will come out of the woodwork with his own ideas. I’ll figure out how much stock I want to put into them.”

“You don’t think he won’t do the same to you if you contact him?”

You lifted your brows, letting your fingers trace the edges of your lips. “I suppose that’s a possibility. But if he can help me get the chip out, since it’s still smashed in my skull right this minute…” You paused, letting your eyes find hers. “Why did you want me to contact Maman Brigitte?”

Evelyn gave you a tight smile. “I thought that maybe if you gave them the chip, they wouldn’t kill me, and I could… Go back to my normal lifestyle.”

Maybe it was selfish, y’know. Being surprised that Evelyn’s motives were purely for herself in spite of everything. You returned her tight smile. “I appreciate the honesty. I’ll see what I can do. Just take care. Carry a piece. Stay off the net.”

You set your cup on the counter after standing. “I’ll let you know if I get to the maman.”

“V?”

You glanced back at Evelyn. “Yeah?”

“It’s terminal, right?”

Blinking, you shrugged. “Maybe.”

Evelyn scoffed. “What the fuck are you gonna do?”

You felt that edge again, almost like you could stand a smoke yourself. “Gonna run it ‘til the wheels fall off, I guess.” You weren’t there yet, not really. It wasn’t real. Vik was just talking shit. Watching a kid you’ve known for some time come in with a bullet to the head’ll do that to anybody, let alone an eighty year old ripper.

“I’m sorry,” Evelyn whispered. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” you sighed. “Just… keep your shit together. It’ll be all worth it if I can clean this shit up.”

She let out the smallest laugh. “Is that how it works?”

You’d seen too many people jump from skyscrapers, too many shootouts, listened to too much grim shit on the news feeds on the elevator. Maybe that wasn’t how it worked, not in Night City. But…

You shrugged off the thought. “Just take care, Ev. Don’t fucking do anything stupid.”

On Jig Jig street, you were walking close to the barriers at the edge of it. He was there, sitting with his back arched.

You were faintly aware of the world around you wobbling. You leaned on the barrier next to him. “You’ve got some options,” he said.

“We’re fuckin’ friends now, huh?”

“Not that,” Johnny replied. “But I can empathize with being against a wall.”

You grinned. You weren’t sure why. But you felt the blood dripping from your nose with a thumb, and looked at it with a curiosity as you slumped to the damp street.

“You found Evelyn, kept your pal alive, and made some considerations as to what happens now. But look at you now. Lookin’ like you’re gonna decomish before you even get anywhere. What the fuck is that?”

“You don’t give a shit,” you replied. “Don’t act like you care, Johnny.”

“Under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t,” Johnny replied. “Look at you. Fuckin’ stupid little princess rolling around in the dirt like you were born in it. Fuckin’ poser. You and Yori got a ton in common.” His engram stood, and you thought briefly his little booties were gonna kick you. Instead, Johnny knelt. “But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t see the opportunity being chained to you offers.”

You sniffed, iron lining the back of your mouth. “Just say it.”

“Do you really care? Or do you just wanna save your miserable little life?”

You moved to stand. “Please, just fucking say whatever you’re gonna say.”

“I don’t know if you realize it,” Johnny whispered, leaning into your space. “But I think we’ll end up having the same goal.”

You glared at him. “What? Gonna say you’re gonna take my body again, plant another nuke? Or is this your attempt at playing nice to get me to do the dirty work for you?”

He snickered. “You’re gonna be doin’ the dirty work either way. But if we can’t come to an understanding, getting there’s gonna be hell on us both. And right now – maybe you don’t need me, V. Maybe I’m the nightmare you keep living. But I need you. Fifty year old score need’s settling – and you’re the woman to do it.”

You started to laugh, watching an alert flash across your kiroshis. A relic malfunction. You leaned off the barrier and started walking.

“Listen, I can help you,” Johnny called. He was still back at the edge of Jig Jig, as if he couldn’t follow. “I can help you figure out who can remove the chip, and you can help me smash ‘Saka.”

You glanced back toward him, stopping along the sidewalk underneath a stairway. A flickered next to you. “I know where we can go to save your life. I know who can help us do that.”

You listened to him explain how he became a construct, learned about Mikoshi.

“And how do you plan to do all that?”

“Find Alt Cunningham.”

You called your car. “Sure,” you told him. Inside the car, Takemura’s face flashed across the holo.

#cyberpunk 2077 #johnny silverhand x v #johnny silverhand x reader #jackie welles #evelyn parker #liar.exe

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char-lie-spirals · 1 year ago

Note

I would like to learn about the rest of the aus you mentioned here:3

Okay okay so!! I talked about some of them, so I'll just put the entire list under the cut and either link to my previous responses or cook something up! And what I cook up can possibly include a snippet of my writing too :]

Also since this is a lot of AUs/WIPs I'll try to be brief, but feel free to ask about more details on them!

Terminus' Ritual

This is an AU I've had for like a year now, and it answers a very simple question - What if the End HAD a ritual? That its avatars complete between mag 159 and mag 160? Simple answer - Zombies. And also some deaths getting reversed because getting a quick taste of it should make people more scared, and it's hard to keep a zombie apocalypse going with too few people. (This doesn't match the End's values, I Know.)

I have some notes on different characters' situations, who comes back etc etc but honestly the storyline I focused on the most is Oliver seeking shelter in Graham's old flat only for Graham to also be there, Pretty Confused about the passage of time between his death and now. :]

Graham gets spat out AU

Sasha gets replaced, NotSasha picks up the tape recorder and goes to dispose of the tape. The Artifact Storage is silent, but not empty, as a man who doesn't recall his own name wakes up on the floor. Okay this already sounds a bit like a snippet so I guess you can have a proper one too:

It was all pointless, you only suffered longer -- but is that truly pointless?

This one is a WIP in which I just wanted to explore the idea that the only reason Graham lived for so long was because he was scared that entire time, to the point the NotThem wasn't in much of a rush. It's pretty angsty, but can be bittersweet too if you look at it at the right angle and I am a simple man with a lot of hope in my heart. I've not been making much progress with it, and I'm not sure if I'll end it on the title-question and leave it up for the reader to decide, or if I'll provide my own answer, but let me say here: I don't think it was pointless. Not to me.

Michael(s) experience confusion

Already talked about this one here!

Graham Lives WITHOUT Becoming

Graham survives the events of MAG 003 because Oliver gets there in time to help him, and the two of them try to navigate the aftermath together. They go through many ups and downs, Oliver ends up becoming an Avatar himself, but Graham just kinda,, doesn't?? It just never happens. No fear claims him. At this point a lot of people are convinced he's an Avatar because of how his life is intertwined with the Fears but nope. Just some guy who can bluff pretty decently, gets lucky a lot, and loves his End-Avatar fiance a whole bunch :] (yes they're engaged now)

Graham Folger Lives because The Eye Is A Backseat Gamer

One of my Eye Graham AUs :] The main one, you could say! In this one, The Eye backseat-games his MAG 003 experience, and he Knows where to hide, what to do, and how to survive. After that, he goes on to start working at the institute, becomes an Archival Assistant after Jon's promotion, and goes through the horrors! I also talked about it Ages ago, right here- hold on that was in MAY???? 2023????? 10 months ago???? This is messed up.

Anyway! here's a little something I have written about it so far :]

DeathNote intro

Just me trying to explore how Graham and Oliver might've met, grown closer, gotten together and stayed together for 6 years :] No clue if I'll ever publish this and if so, if I'll use it as a backstory/background for one of my AUs or as its own stand-alone thing? But yeah it's just the two of them growing closer and falling in love :] You can have this snippet of it, too! It's their literal first meeting!

Antique seller Graham

Talked about this one here! I will probably do so again soon! But you can also have a snippet, since I guess writing all this really put me in a snippet mood! This is from this AU's version of Amy's statement :D

Cockroach Graham AU

I don't think I need to elaborate.

#I can't EXPRESS how happy I got because of this ask #Had to go hug my cat and all #asks.char #write.char #for the snippets and general creativity

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