#(NOT giving vik a tag just for this)
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I never posted my three weed smoking seekers here....
wips under the cut
Idk why I really enjoy being able to see both layers. I colour coded them so I wouldn't get lost in my own lines...
#thanks to my pal vik who suggested i just give them clothes anyway#its so wonderful#uhhh right tags. uh#skywarp#starscream#thundercracker#transformers fanart#maccadam#weed smoking gfs#my art#sure that'll do for now
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OC Love Language
thank you @socially-awkward-skeleton tagging me to do this uquiz!
violent devotion
Everyone seems to think you are faithless, but the thing is you haven’t yet found someone who will bring you to your knees and make you raise your head in reverence. This world has stopped bringing you joy, you want more of the divine. You want to dedicate your entire existence to someone; you want to make them realise they are not something terrible, make them see just how much beauty they are bringing to this world. You want to be the only one for them, the only one they have chosen to love. There’s a god shaped pit inside of you and only they can fit in it. And what if they choose to walk away? Didn’t I say this was violent devotion?
an undoing influence
Can someone tell you what to do? You have been carrying so much love within you for so long it is starting to turn into anger (why does it matter, all you see is red anyways) and you have been dragging this body through each day and every night you are split open on your bed and it is so so so lonely. If someone were to walk in while you were on your bed that way and they stitched you back in a new way, lining the seams with their love and kisses, you’d probably find this dreary world a little more bearable. You want someone to turn you over and over until you look in the mirror and see yourself looking back at yourself with a gentleness which has been lacking in you since forever.
a knife called grief
You have left your house, you have left those people behind, but what are you going to do about the memories which have taken root in you? You can run but not without them. You want someone to sit with you on this cool marble floor while the sun burns everything.You want them to cut your rotten heart and theirs too. You want to sit with it in front of you, let them see you with all your flaws, which haven’t been your fault but you have been made to believe so, and you want them to love you anyways. Because you know you’d do that for them.
i tag @captastra @natesofrellis @confidentandgood @sstewyhosseini @galaxycunt @gayafsatan @roofgeese @incognito-insomniac and anyone who wants to try it out!
#marcy’s definitely fits her pre-meeting vik#oh my god seph’s is spot on it hurts-#she just needs sam to pick up her pieces TwT#ronnie spot on and giving me depression as always TwT#my oc: marceline kelly#my oc: seph wilde#my oc: ronnie kana#tagged
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urehghdhgdhghg. whf is generally... listen. she gets it. she understands why people end up working for corps - she was one of them. it put metaphorical food on the metaphorical table. it paid for medical bills, piling up. it let her keep the people relying on her afloat. she won't apologize for making the decisions she made and doing what she had to do.
cut bc Longe. post abt takemura mostly.
but she never liked the corp itself, and only pretended she did when she had to. she worked in cybernetics programming, not intelligence, not public relations - she was tucked away in a basement lab, testing software integrations. no one looked at her for too long, let alone cared about how strongly she believed in arasaka's great vision. and behind all that, behind the chip she let them put in her to dull the edges of her emotions, there's just a massive, massive onslaught of rage.
listening to takemura talk up the Order and Overwatch of arasaka like it's a benevolent patriarch makes her want to climb off the side of the unfinished building they're doing a stakeout on and just hit the concrete, it'd be faster and less painless than her head exploding.
takemura, look at yourself. look at her. both of us are from respective slums created by corporate bullshit. she's been in debt since before she knew how to count, inherited and generated out of thin air as everyone she cared about fell victim to the poisoned air, the poisoned water, the poisoned earth - all effects of corpos running amok, unfettered. it's not like he doesn't know - it's just that he's convinced himself otherwise. seen what he wanted to see. and she was like that, too, before leaving arasaka for good. she knew, conceptually, that there were worse things under her feet. that some of her work was being used for horrible things. but there was only the desperate tunnel of needing to make it through to the next paycheck. and she stayed until the very last possible fucking second because - because it was only on the brink of having them take the last ten years of her life away from her that she realized she couldn't rationalize that away, and she had to stop doing it for everything else, too.
so sure, talk to hanako. do whatever you've got to do based on whatever loyalties you've got to honor. but don't fucking pretend, don't fucking lie to yourself that you were ever anything other than lucky. you worked hard, but a corp is a massive beast. you just got lucky. every day you got lucky except for that one day.
just like her. every day she got lucky. except for that one day.
meanwhile johnny's just sitting over there listening to all of this and it's the most she's ever spoken about anything prior to the corp, really, and it's usually walled off in her mind behind the arasaka no-feelings implant, so he's... interested, but also so fucking. sad. he guesses. he's sad because she's sad. except she's just empty, and the only thing left (because there is No One left; they've all gone and the years she spent trying to keep them alive feel completely and utterly wasted now because who is she to fight entropy. who is she to fight the corps. who is she to fight the decay of the planet) is just a well of anger so deep he's surprised he's never tripped over it before. not that he pries, exactly, but it's so obvious now that he's seen it. she's got so much of it and so little of anything else left, and he hates to see a mirror in her in this way.
#whatsherface#tldr everyone in her family (that's a loose term it was a bunch of kids roughly her age that an old lady had taken in) got hit by -#- the same environmental disaster and fell deeply and horribly ill#a bunch of them died right at the start and then she immediately went into night city to get them medical care. uh oh that's a lot of money#ok let's start working. ok let's start scraping money out from every possible venue#okay let's give up everything about ourselves to join arasaka. okay let's let them put a chip in our head because they want us to work in-#-cybernetics and they say they need to protect their work.#and she loses them one by one by one and she was the person who was supposed to help them#the last one hanging on needed a huge procedure done that would get him through to the other side - this was after she left arasaka and was#working w jackie. and she just needed the fucking money so goddamn bad that the relic heist was really her only option#coming out of vik's clinic after getting shot and resurrected etc. the first thing she does is check on him and he died since-#the procedure didn't go ahead bc she had apparently ghosted. he died thinking she abandoned him#well now she's dying too. so it's all just alright. probably.#OK LONG TAGS TOO SORRY
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Seeing Smant and Vik stream together feels so cursed
#bin zwar kein vik/iblali fan mehr ABER#so weird asdfghjkl#smallant lb#own#liveblogging#smallant#(NOT giving vik a tag just for this)
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SIDEMEN BRUTALLY RANK MORE YOUTUBERS | H. Lewis
˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚
summary: cozy day in with your boyfriend and watching the sidemen
tags: fluff, w2s x reader
warnings: slight cursing (not really)
a/n: instead of doing my literature essay I completed this story hope you guys enjoy!! more stories and stories about other youtubers are coming soon! ⋆。˚
-
“Welcome to MoreSidemen, where the Sidemen, talk badly, about other youtubers” Simon says as the others cheer jokingly.
You giggle quietly while watching the video, leaning back into your boyfriend’s arms. Harry said you were one of the people they ranked and asked if you wanted to watch it with him. And, of course, you agreed because who wouldn’t. You watch Harry as he gets up from the couch to go get a snack.
"You look good in this video by the way," you complemented him as your eyes wandered back to the screen. "I reckon I look good in every video, don't know what you mean..." He remarked. You rolled your eyes and playfully shoved him when he sat back down next to you only to be grabed by the waist and pulled closer to him.
"They are our friends, so don't take any of these seriously," Simon continues with a disclaimer, knowing how the internet would react if he didn't. "Maybe not for much longer if I get ranked last for any of the nice ones." You say, half-accusingly glaring at Harry. He puts on a guilty look and shrugs.
"Which Youtuber would you most want backing you up in a fight, we have seven people." The said seven people then popped up at the bottom of the screen. It was you, Deji, Theo Baker, Callux, Danny Aarons, Randolph, and Calfreezy. “Oh shit, it’s my girlfriend oh no,” Harry says, putting his hands in his face. The guys laugh at him and Vik says, “someone’s sleeping in the dog house tonight.” "Bro you better watch what you say."
"Who'd you want most", "Well Deji has got to be number one", "Yea Deji number one," they say in agreement. "Hey! What about me," you say, turning around to pretend to punch Harry. He ducks out of the way and says, "Come on Y/N, he's literally a professional boxer". "Yeah well...I can throw a punch too." You grumble, turning back around to face the television.
"...Theo's up there because he's pretty w..." You hear your boyfriend say in the video. "I could take him down," you mutter. "I know you could okay Y/N," he says as he kisses the top of your head. The guys continue discussing their rankings, not once mentioning you at all. "Okay now hold on a sec, because I personally think Y/N could pack a punch you know, I feel like she's got the temper enough to take a bitch down." Simon reasons with the group.
"Remind me to give Simon a big hug the next time we see him." You say gleefully, happy someone finally recognized your strength. "Yeah, I agree. I think she has the ride-or-die kind of mindset because she will fight for you and what-not, god I love her." Harry says. You look up lovingly at him and kiss his cheek.
"So we're going Deji, Theo, Danny, Lux, Y/N, Freezy, Randy," they say as they list out their rankings. "Are we sure about Freezy and Randy?" Tobi asks, to which Harry responds, "Y/N loves getting into fights so yeah..." You glare at Harry, unsure if it was a compliment or not. "You know she's actually mad strong. The other time she accidentally turned around and elbowed my stomach and it had a huge bruise for a week," Josh added. "Does that mean you're just weak then?" Simon says. The lads just laughed and before Josh even tried to defend himself, Simon already started talking about the fan's rankings.
"Randy's third? And Danny's six?" Simon says in disbelief. "No way I think Randy and Danny swap," Harry says, he looks down the lists and sees you've been ranked at sixth. "Wait no way they voted Y/N as last. Guys have you seen her during our challenges, she would take a bitch down," Harry continues. You thanked him for 'defending your honor' and gave him a big smooch on the lips.
They continued to disagree with the fan rankings, but you honestly couldn't care less anymore. Knowing that your boyfriend thought you were tough and could hold your own was enough for you. You begin to dose off as the video continues playing, hearing Harry chuckle every now and then when his friends make a joke, as he combs your hair unconsciously.
However, one of the questions you hear as you fall asleep catches your attention. "Which youtuber is the most attractive?" You sit up, curious about what would be their rankings. The rest of boys in the video look at Harry, thinking that he would instantly say his girlfriend, but boy were they wrong. "Number one Callux," Harry says immediately. You both burst out laughing as he continues to try and correct himself, in the video, realising his girlfriend was also in the list. You pretended to act offended as Harry 'apologises profusely', peppering kisses all around your face. You couldn't help but giggle at your boyfriend's adorableness.
Laying back down in your boyfriend's arms as he wraps them tightly around you, with the video playing in the background, you look up at Harry, wondering how did you get so lucky and how much you love your life.
#harry lewis x reader#w2s fic#w2s imagine#w2s#sidemen#sidemen x reader#sidemen fanfic#harry lewis#w2s x reader#harry w2s#josh bradley#simon minter#miniminter#ksi#ethan payne#tobi#vikstar
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Ibiza -W2S
words: 1.2k+
warnings: alcohol consumption.
summary: you spend the day on a yacht while your boyfriend and his mates film hide & seek. You deal with his mean drunkenness. Then when you get back to the villa you take care of him.
notes: this is based off of this request!! I think drunk Harry’s hilarious😭. Don’t forget to reblog! Enjoy this extra lone one💓✨
Liked by gkbarry_, ksi and 561,308 others
y/username: Ibiza 2024!🌴🍹🌺☀️💘
Tagged: @wroetoshaw @behzingagram @faithloisak @taliamar @freyanightingale
-comments-
wroetoshaw: 🔥🔥
faithloisak: you cutie
taliamar: stunning girl🫶🏼
y/nfanpage21: pahaha the second pic😭
user31096420: another iconic sidemen holiday
user91837410: she's so fit
A few days ago we arrived in Ibiza. It was initially just going to be the boys because they were planning a few sidemen videos. But they decided that there hasn't been a proper holiday with everyone for years since, Ethan and Faith had Olive, Me and Harry got married, as well as Simon and Talia so we cleared our schedules and booked tickets.
We're here for a week and plan on doing as much relaxing as we can but the boys still need to film their videos. Today they're filming a hide and seek on a huge yacht. We're all staying in a massive villa that's really close to the sea line. "Morning." Harry yawned. My sleepy face curved into a content smile. "Good morning." I whispered before kissing his soft lips. Harry wrapped his arms around my torso. "Do we have to get up?" He dug his head into my neck. "Yes Haz. The boats booked for eleven." I replied. He groaned.
Eventually I got him up and we began getting ready. I pulled on a bikini that wouldn't give me offensive tan lines, since I'm planning on laying in the sun all day. Then popped on a cute cover up. Once I'd sorted my hair and covered myself in suncream I headed downstairs where everyone was sat eating breakfast. I said "good morning." then grabbed a plate of fresh fruit along with a smoothie.
After breakfast we all collected the last of our things then just as the taxis pulled up we left. Harry helped Ethan get Olives stuff into the boot while I carried the baby for Faith while she clipped in the car seat. It's only a ten minute drive so we were soon being dropped off at the dock. The day before yesterday we spent a few hours on a smaller boat but today (since they're filming a video) the yacht is massive. The crew also flew in yesterday to film this video so they met us here.
We were told not to grab our things from the taxis because the staff on board would get it for us. When we got onto the yacht we were immediately given drinks and a quick toor. The woman brought us up some stairs. "And these are the tanning loungers." Me and the girls looked at each other with a smile. "This is where I'm going to be spending the rest of the day." Talia joked, but she was being fully serious and I felt exactly the same.
The boys wondered off to film the intro for the video and all four of us girls lay down on a lounger, while Olive slept next to Faith in a little travel cot under one of the large umbrellas. I chatted quietly with Talia, Freya started reading her book and Faith soaked up the sun. We could hear the boys screaming, shouting and laughing as they filmed. Vik was the seeker and wasn't doing the best job which was obvious from what we could see from the top deck, but I'm sure that will make the video even funnier.
Once Harry, Ethan and Josh had been found we caught them peering up at us quite a few times. "You all look like creeps you know!" I shouted. The girls laughed from beside me and the boys faces turned a bright shade of red. "You just look too good in that bikini babe!" Harry shouted back sarcastically. I smirked with a shake of my head. Then returned to tanning.
After almost three hours the boys finally finished filming so we had some lunch. As the day went on we jumped into the sea, played mafia and just sat around enjoying each other's company. Everyone began actually drinking as it started to get later. Accept me, Faith, JJ and Tobi because I had had like one or two but really couldn't be arsed with a hangover, Faith needed to look after Olive and JJ and Tobi don't drink.
y/username just posted a new story!
I sat next to Harry as he swayed back and forth slightly. "You alright?" I asked. He was clearly very drunk. "What? Oh. Shut up I'm fine." He replied. I raised my eyebrows in disbelief. I looked around the group, all eyes on us. I burst into a fit of laughter. "Alright big man I think it's time you get to bed." I tried to help him stand. "No!" He shouted. I sighed tiredly. "Here. I'll help." Tobi got up from his seat. We decided to all call it a night so left the ship and got taxi's back to the villa.
"Here you go mate." JJ murmured as him and Tobi lay an almost asleep Harry on our bed. "Thanks boys." I smiled as they walked out with a quick "good night." I pulled Harry's clothes off, leaving him in just his boxers. Then I placed a glass of water on his nightstand, along with some paracetamol for his hangover. Thankfully Harry usually isn't physically sick when he has a hangover so there was no need for a bucket. After I took a quick shower I slipped into bed, next to him.
The next morning I got up decently early to make everyone breakfast. Faith was already downstairs since Olive had been awake for quite awhile and she didn't want to wake Ethan up since he was hungover and he woke up early yesterday for Olive. "Good morning you cutie." I greeted Olive in my high pitched baby voice, that seems to just appear whenever I'm around animals or babies. She giggled with the sweetest little smile.
"Morning." Faith also smiled as I sat down next to her on the couch. "So last night Harry seemed to be a little..." "mean." I finished her sentence. "Well yea." She breathed out a laugh. "He's a mean drunk. It really doesn't bother me to be honest. I find it hilarious." I chuckled. "I'm glad, I was a little concerned." "The first time we went out together it was a bit of a shock to the system but over the years I realised that it's just how he reacts to alcohol."
After a good chat with Faith I headed back upstairs to check on Harry. I slowly opened to door to see Harry front down on the bed with his face turned towards the door. I walked towards him and squatted in front of him. "Harry." I whispered as my hand gently stroked his face. He groaned. "Have some paracetamol love." I grabbed the pack from the nightstand. "My head hurts." He slowly opened one of his eyes. I smiled at him "I know. Sit up for me."
He pushed himself up and turned over so he was sitting against the headboard. He took the tablet along with almost the entire glass of water. "Was I mean?" He asked quietly. I laughed "Uhm... I've had much worse." He groaned as he covered his face with his hands. "Sorry." He mumbled. "Don't be. You were completely gone with the fairies." I said sarcastically. He chuckled but then winced, probably from the pounding headache. "Go back to sleep. I'll have breakfast downstairs when you're ready." I quickly pecked his forehead. "You're too good to me." He replied as he returned to his previous position.
#w2s#harry lewis#harry w2s#wrotoshaw#wroetoshaw#w2s x reader#w2s fic#w2s imagine#wroetoshaw x reader#wroetoshaw oneshot#harry lewis x reader#harry x reader#youtuber x reader#british youtubers#fanfic#image#oneshot#x fem!reader#x y/n#x you#x reader#ibiza#sidemen holiday#sidemen#instagram au#instagram
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The Healer
masterlist
viktor x anhedonic!reader [1.4k][AO3]
cw: implied/referenced depression, suicide, suicidal ideation, self harm
summary: Anhedonia set in and the idea of exiting life's stage became all the more appealing. But you've heard about The Healer and perhaps he can save you.
tags: gn reader, S2 Viktor, post-Act 1, anhedonia, angst, depression, suicide, SI, SH, viktor gardening?, reader's just admiring him atp, not betad, not encouraging anybody to join any cult
a/n: idk if vik's abilities extends to making plants appear but for this pretend it does
if you're unfamiliar with what anhedonia is, it's a symptom of a larger condition (can be depression, bipolar, schizophrenia, more), characterised by the inability to experience physical and/or social pleasure. makes existing difficult, like you're dragging so much pointless weight and everything feels high effort, so what's the point.
just a brief description (based on what i've learnt from it in research and experience), so i encourage learning more to get it more in depth if it interests you or sounds too familiar.
You prayed for an easy coax out of the darkness.
The little home of scrap fabric and heartbroken brick you built throughout the years was becoming more and more dilapidated, though its original state had never been of full health to begin with. And like it, your body’s ridges became prominent, visited by unexplained bruises, warmed by the thickened hair on your skin, and yet living on had always been the only option you saw—no, the only option you allowed.
You’d breathed long enough to outlive many of those around you. Whether it was becoming grey-lunged corpses, enforcer punching bags, or a Promenade diver, everybody knew somebody who, sooner rather than later, knelt to kiss Death’s feet. Surrendered. Be it by their own or another’s will.
Then it fell upon you: the swole blanket of indifference, of apathy. It cloaked your mind, buried your defences that was defiance, which had been the only source of survival you’d had left. But snuffed out now.
And how easy it is to think of self-inflicted inexistence when it seems nothing else matters.
Oblivion would whisper in the corner, a demented, deformed dog snarling yet begging your hand’s comfort. Come to me. And you can’t find good reason as to why you shouldn’t.
This… healer—a man whose touch could gild any man’s sick and bestow him a new life, a new body, a new mind—you’re not sure when he arrived. But the whispers morphed to murmurs which morphed to rumours and unfolded itself into your side of the city’s underbelly.
Was he the answer to your prayer?
You made journey to the place you’d heard he’d made camp, and it unfurled before you and stole all expectation and put them to rest. Because for once, the Sumps had colour, had life.
At the centre stood a strange, globular… building? Just like stained glass, its surface was of mute Spring colours, translucent, swirling lattice-work reminiscent of butterfly wing patterns.
He’s a tall thing. A beautiful thing. His metal body cloaked, careful, and coded with grace. Each movement was deliberate, no gaze shared unintentional. How had he come to exist? How had this world birthed your people’s suffering but, as well, him?
You want to laugh at the sick irony. Whoever’s dealing the cards need their hands cut off.
“What ails you?” he asks, giving you such soft regarding you can’t help but be rendered speechless.
In truth, you’re not sure. Physically, you know you’re lacking, but so was everyone so why are you different? In your head there sits a temptress, attempting to lure you to the edge of buildings or blades, but she had no name. No one speaks of her.
The healer tilts his head, seeming to take a better look at you. He looks so kind. Such eyes, opalescent, have seen suffering, and you know it.
“Life,” you give a one-shouldered shrug, smiling. “I… I’m not actually… uh, I don’t know what I’m doing here,” you take a step back.
What had been the point of this? Attempt what? Healing? What’s this man to do?
“No,” he steps closer, his voice swathed in a strange mechanical whir. “Stay,”
You’re sure that by the furrowed desperation on you, it convinces something inside him, as he turns and beckons you with a nudge of his head. So you follow.
Each step he makes creates a heavy thunk beneath him, and though you don’t feel its impact, merely by sound you feel the weight of him. How had he acquired such a body? Modded fingers, let alone limbs, cost years of your wages—you can’t imagine how much his entire body might have cost.
“I can feel something plaguing you,” he begins, shifting slightly to catch a look of you.
You scoff but it doesn’t quite match your face.
“Then what brought you to me?” he shrugs and looks away, leading you to the side of the Sumps where a clear plain rolled out.
You watch as he kneels and reaches for the soil, taking it between metal fingers.
“I’m not sure,” you kneel beside him, shoulders bunching up. “What are you doing?”
He hums, smoothing the ground and creating indents, “I’m assessing,”
You lean forward, folding your arms and hanging your head to look at him.
The metal frames his face, just barely hidden by chestnut waves, curling beneath the jaw and around the ear.
He’s got a rather angular beauty to him, something belonging to scrutiny and studiosity. Even his strong brows follow theme, arched forward in a focused furrow, over narrowed eyes homing iridescent irises. You’re not sure if he’s from this world. Or if the world was gifted him.
Your attention trails back to his hand, and he digs his fingers beneath the soil. Then, hand glowing beneath the metallic muscles, the ground is imbued with a light, where then verdant stems spring alive.
You choke back a gasp, glancing about as the spindly bodies uncurl and reveal yellow petals. Roses?
Whipping back to him, you take note of the glow leaving his eyes, shock threading through your system.
When you glance back at the flowers, now surrounding the both of you, you can’t help but think: logically, how you might have reacted would be with pleasant surprise, glee, even.
Such occurrences, the arcane or a mere flower field, was a coveted sight, and without a doubt you would have felt the surge of optimism. But instead nothing happens. Instead it’s unmet anticipation and expectation sitting at your belly, pooling into grey disappointment.
It’s when you look back to the healer that you realise this disappointment must have shown on your face. He inclines his head so slightly, blinks, as if saying I understand. And he smiles. He smiles and it’s the gentlest thing ever given to you to hold and witness.
You want to crumple, to lay graves for your limbs and disassemble each part that ever dared to exist only to suffer. There used to be anger, and at the very least there was indignation. At topside for their neglect, your parents or finding each other, for finding something beyond the misery and creating you. Where had all such righteous resentment gone?
“Viktor,”
You look up to see the healer’s hand stretched out, asking for yours in return. And you oblige, shaking it gently, before pulling away only to be held with soft restraint.
“You are welcome to stay,” his voice becomes tender, becomes more human almost, aimed purely for your audience. “Even if what torments is not outright seen. I welcome all,”
Your breath comes out long, carrying with it the tired days in the dark. The healer… Viktor makes no acknowledgement of this but just another observant blink, the corners of his mouth slightly tightening.
“Wasn’t gonna die or anything,” you joke, flattening your lips and hoping it registers as a smile, however trying it may appear.
“Eh,” Viktor shrugs, turning his attention to your hand and turning it about as if trying to see new angles. “A slow death is still a death,”
This makes you frown. Why has he assumed? But why is he right?
“The slower it is, the more painful, I think,” he remarks, but he seems almost far away. “As you watch what is left of you wither, and all you can do is… hm, watch,”
Then you understand. Something in your chest tightens as you take in once again all this stranger is. “You’re well-acquainted,” you note, coming out barely as breath and observation, spoken clearer by the narrowing of your eyes than your own voice.
He looks at you again, and something’s changed. His eyes? It seems. There’s something more amber about them, more grounded in this singular hue. “My longest companion,”
You hum, nodding.
There’s a safety in knowing you’re understood, even if they’re not able to fix you. It cloaks you warmer than summer, than any consolation offered in pity—he understands. And perhaps not the very same that brandishes you, but in some aspect he knows.
Which is what makes you ask, “Can you fix me?”
His eyes resume that pearl sheen once again and you’re mesmerised, gaze flitting between each eye in deep investigation—tell me who you are, how you are; tell me how you’ll fix me. Like the field around, the sweet sunshine hues of the roses, to make your land more than just barren.
And he does. He raises his other hand, uncurling, coming to hover by your face. “May I?”
You breath sweeps back in and you nod, leaning forward and connecting his cold fingers to your cheek.
He notes you for a moment, saying nothing, doing nothing. It’s his gaze that makes you feel naked, removed of any pretence crafted carefully. But he shifts his attention and his fingers connected with your forehead, eyes overtaken by a white glow.
Your vision drowns in the white.
a/n anhedonia's been hitting me and this is the only thing i could muster to make so here we gooo. not my favourite, feel like i could've done it better but oh well, least i made something wahooyaaa writing is coping after all 🫵🏼😃🗣️
requests + taglist open!
[this is a reupload, i have no idea why the original post disappeared :''')]
#arcane#arcane spoilers#arcane s2 spoilers#arcane viktor#arcane fanfic#arcane viktor fanfic#vitya arcane#viktor x gn!reader#viktor x reader#viktor x you#gn!reader#nausicaas fics
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Hey bestieee can I get uhhhhh.......what u think vik would like to get as a present for the holidays and what he would give reader in return
Hi bestie! Of course ^^ here is it, hope you like it <3
Loving Gifts
Viktor x Fem!(Artist!)Reader----1.2K----SFW
Tags: Established Relationship | Domestic Fluff | Slightly Suggestive at the end |
A dry, cold winter air flowed across the wide boulevards in the Commercial District, with Viktor adjusting the cozy red blanket around his neck to cover up his mouth and nose. With the sky rapidly tinted orange, he saw the Christmas lightning starting to turn on in each of the buildings around him.
He leaned against a wall, consulting the list tucked inside his pocket.
-Dress (?)
-Custom jewelry -> next anniversary.
-Set of pastels (?)
Viktor had been cracking his brain to think about a gift for you ever since the coming of autumn. Last year, he had crafted you a lamp in the shape of a cherry tree, the one that was next to your drawing table, sending pink and golden hues around your atelier like in a perpetual dusk.
This year, however, he had no idea what to give you, which made him feel quite anxious every time he entered a store, watching around the shelves to see if something caught his attention, like a call, only to end up with empty hands and another blow of gelid wind as he walked toward other business.
What if he gave you something you didn’t like? He could imagine your eyes dropping slightly and the tense smile expanding your lips. For all the time you’d been together, Viktor had acquired the ability to read you like his favorite book.
He already had a little custom music box half-finished in his lab, kept inside the only drawer that held a key so you wouldn’t find it those times you liked to help him clean his workstation, waiting for Viktor to finish his job for the day. He snuck inside the Music Faculty to ask for a recording of the song that got you both together at the Academy Anniversary Foundation Gala two years ago when he gathered his courage to ask you for a dance.
Viktor smiled at the memory, the characteristic smell of oil and wood familiar as he entered the arts and crafts store you frequent, many of those visits with his arm interlocked in yours.
The saleswoman smiled at him. “Hello, Sir, what can I help you with?” she said. “Is the Ma'am sick?”
“Ah—” he hung his lips ajar at the name ‘Ma’am’, because you two weren’t married, though you never corrected her, so, why would he? “No. I came here for her… eh, her Christmas gift.”
“Oh, of course!” She responded with a wide beam; her brown eyes squinted. “Do you have something in mind?”
Viktor looked around the clean and organized store, with wooden pencils and brushes, lines of canvas shown behind the counter, and a thousand rainbows shown in sets of crayons, pencils, pastels, and oil paintings.
“Yes. One of your set of pastels, please.” Viktor tapped his fingers along the handle of his cane, looking at the people walking hand by hand passing by him. He sighed, consulting his pocket watch. It was strange the way he’d grown to miss you, just comparable to how he yearned to keep inventing, to keep creating.
“Can you wrap it with newspaper?” he added. “She’s rather… curious, you see.” If you saw a box wrapped in gift paper, there was no doubt you’d start to peek. He thought you were just as mischievous as a cat. And just as adorable.
“Of course, Sir.” For some minutes, the empty store filled with the sound of paper folding and tape being cut. “Here you have it. Careful, there. It’s heavier than it looks.”
“Thank you.” Viktor put the gift under his free arm, walking out of the store once he had paid.
The air hit even colder now that he had imagined how warm your embrace would be once he arrived home.
“But first,” he mumbled to himself, accommodating his beret and scarf before restarting his walk up the hill. “Let’s hide this in the lab.”
*~*~*~*
You put the photograph aside after watching it for the thousandth time, gently sliding it inside a book as you continue to paint the last details of Eve’s dress, the patches of clothes sewn into the fabric twin to the ones in little Viktor’s pants.
He looked so happy, standing between his parents with pride—you hoped you could mimic the childish delight on his face with your painting. Even if you weren’t good at restoring photos, why shouldn’t you replicate the image in your personal style?
Viktor had shown you the photo after some months of dating, getting it out of his notebook with its edges winkled and the paper thin for being held so much; the brown surface dotted with multiple stains. And yet, love kept emanating from it.
Now, Viktor would have the memory on a bigger canvas he could hang whenever he wished. You hoped he liked the gift, though it’ll be quite obvious wrapped under the tree once the painting was ready—you wished to give him only the best, just as he did with you.
The brush slid against the canvas, wrist swaying to paint the thin decorative lines of the wallpaper inside his childhood home, the edge of a cold hearth behind the family tree, with Viktor sitting on a chair in the middle of his parents, the familiar toy boat in his lap.
A smile grazed your face, looking at the round face of the small boy, amber eyes shining even in the now dim photograph. You were blessed with that gaze, too, every time he talked about his new projects and ideas, with the lamp on the nightstand giving his eyes a shine that could rival the stars.
Even when Viktor looked at you, a smile so big you could his adorable tooth gap.
You heard the entrance door creak open, settling your brush down in a vase with water.
“Moje láska, I’m home,” Viktor said, his voice muffled through the closed door of your studio. “Where are you, hmm?”
“I’m going!” You almost interrupted him, carrying the canvas toward the far end of the room, facing the closed window.
Viktor was expecting you in the hallway, an eyebrow raised upon seeing your hands, and fingers stained with paint.
“Working still, my muse?” he muttered playfully, his hands intertwined with yours as he pulled you against him to give you a kiss on the forehead, then another on the cheek, to finally grace your lips with his own.
You smiled, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to give him another, longer, kiss.
“Yes, handsome,” you teased, poking his cheek that was starting to dust with a pink shade.
“Should I let you work, then?” He hummed, his hands on your hips. “Wouldn’t like to delay your duties and get you in trouble.”
“Not at all. I only have to let the paint dry to start with the new layer tomorrow.” Tugging his hand, you pried away from the studio, so Viktor couldn’t ask to see the painting and spoil the surprise. “Come on, let’s have dinner together.”
Viktor chuckled, his thumb smudging a droplet of paint across the reverse of your palm. “Maybe I should bathe you first,” he said, eyes twinkling. “You’re always a masterpiece but today… eh, you have more paint on you.”
You laughed, one of your hands over Viktor’s. “Naughty.” Leaning closer to him, you pretended to smell him, scrunching your nose in a dramatic gesture. “You’re also very stinky.”
“That didn’t stop you from kissing me, did it?” His thumb circled your hip, fingers gently kneading the skin. “Not that I’m complaining, of course.”
“Never,” you giggled.
“Come on, my stinky dove,” Viktor teased, nuzzling his face against your hair. “Let’s draw a bath in the bathtub. I'm quite cold, so perhaps you could warm me up, yes?”
#arcane viktor x reader#viktor x reader#viktor arcane x reader#viktor arcane x you#arcane viktor x you#viktor arcane#arcane viktor#viktor fanfic#arcane fanfic#viktor x you#viktor x fem! reader#viktor x f! reader
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D here to give a little intro to the blog
This blog is for 18+ only!
Most of us are sexual alters to some degree, so we just use this page to get that out of our systems (🥁😉) but we won’t censor ourselves past what tumblr allows so proceed with caution.
Flirting is welcome and anons are encouraged, but don’t ask for anything else unless we’re mutuals. Get into it 🖤
Please don’t send us anything sexual unless you’re 20+!
Our personal tags and kinks are under the cut
-D 🖤
(We’ll make a proper intro at some point, probably 😅)
Our kinks:
D (He/It) 🖤
Impact
Monster fucker 💖
Sadomasochism
Dom/sub (dom-leaning)
Praise
Knife/Gun play
Exhibitionism/voyeurism (this’ll get you disqualified from the military, which is another kink of mine)
CNC
Cockwarming
Breath play/choking
Hair pulling
Biting/scratching
Humiliation/Degradation
Pet play/primal play
Somno
Intoxication/ forced intoxication
Bondage/BDSM
Spit/Bodily fluids (not in excess, I still have OCD)
Dirty talk
Aftercare
Let me be mean to you and take care of you after 😉
- D
Raia (She/It) 🔥
- BDSM/Domming
- Sadism
- Mommy kink
- pain/pleasure (giving)
-Praise (giving)
6 (It/Its) 🦷
Monster fucker
Puppy play (sub only)
Masochism
Biting/Marking
Praise (receiving)
Breeding (not pregnancy)
A/B/O
Stalking/Chasing/Being Hunted (CNC, not literally)
CNC
Choking/Breath Play
Forced Masculinity (in a t4t way)
Vik (He/Him) 🐍
- Dom/Sub (strict Dom)
- Ownership/pet play
- BDSM/Bondage
- Slave/Master dynamics
- knife/gun play
- body/ boot worship
- Sadism
- overstim
- hair pulling/pain
- heirophilia
- forced intox
- Primal play
- age gap/daddy dom (21+)
- Praise (condescending)
Our Tags:
D 🖤- #D’s D
6 🦷- #mangy mutt
Raia 🔥- #Ms. Ma’am
Vik 🐍- #fuck that geriatric(me)
We need to do this to our pretty subs/have our pretty subs do this, stat-#✍️✍️✍️
We need this done to us, stat- #👀👀👀
Moots 💜
💖,🐛,⛈️,🐰
Anons 🖤
🍓,
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-> i really fucked it up <-
jackie welles x reader (v)
wc: 6.6k
summary: jackie told you not to take this job. now you’re fucked in more ways than one.
warnings/tags: kidnapping, some mild torture, violence, blood, weapon use, swearing, established relationship, angst, couple fighting, smut, fingering, edging, orgasm denial, possesive jackie, almost a dash of yandere if you SqUiNt
author’s note: started working on this, had to go to the hospital. bon appetit. (spanish to english translations at the bottom.)
based on ‘i really fucked it up’ by girli
Jackie had told you that this was not a job you could do alone. He’d warned you from the very start, when you’d stepped into Vik’s clinic while he was getting his chrome repaired and presented the plan to him with nothing less than a flourish and confetti. Yet even with your tactics laid out, with every detail plotted and every possibility planned, he still said no.
You had told him he was starting to sound like his mother. “You worry too much,” you had said and taken a seat beside the chair as Viktor had tinkered with a cybernetic in your man’s forearm. “It’s going to be low-profile anyway. Arriving tonight in a tiny port just north of Pacifica, in neutral ground. No gangs to claim it. No one to hear about it but you and me.”
“And where did you hear about it?” Viktor had asked.
“Nowhere,” you’d replied. They had both given you identical looks of skepticism that made your skin crawl. “A fixer I met a few weeks back. He’s a choom. Hooked me up with a few good takes recently.”
Jackie had released a heavy exhale from deep within his belly. You hadn’t been able to stop yourself from admiring the way his abs flexed beneath the fabric of his tank top as he breathed. “Still doesn’t sound like a good idea,” he told you as his hand was released and he flexed his fingers. He shook his palm out. “Just let it go, carino.”
You wished you had listened to him.
It must have been hours since the Maelstrom had caught you while loading crates of Kiroshi tech into your ride, eyes wide and lips parted in shock like a lizard in the Badlands stuck frozen in a pair of approaching headlights. It must have been hours since they had knocked you to the ground with a couple well-placed pistol whips that made your head spun, since they zip tied your wrists and ankles behind your back, manhandled you into the trunk of a Thornton, and brought down the butt of a shotgun against the surface of your temple.
There were no windows in your little makeshift cell, so you had no idea what time it could have been.
But it had to have been hours.
When you woke to a reality-splitting, teeth-gnashing, tech-glitching headache, you had discovered your captors had handcuffed you to a bathtub faucet over yourself so that you were forced to recline back in the tub to avoid your wrists snapping. The wall to make the bathroom private had long ago been torn down, giving you a generous view of the rest of the abandoned apartment the gang was using as a hideout. It was just as you had expected from cybercosis-pushing freaks like them; ratty couches and scattered drug bowls, pieces and bits of bloody tech littered across tables and countertops, a spotty television playing somewhere along the far wall. A number of them milled about, coming and going, kicking up feet or pacing with automatics clutched in hand. Your mind was far too much of a fuzzy static to even think of counting them.
If you were being completely honest, you had no idea why the Maelstrom had not killed you on the spot when they showed up to nab the Kiroshi tech and you’d already been there. You had seen them shoot to kill for worse. Hell, you’d once witnessed a junkie get his guts blown out over spitting too close to a Maelstrom’s shoe.
You didn’t know why you were here, why they hadn’t popped your head off with a simple squeeze of the trigger. You did know, however, that you needed to get out of here - before they suddenly got any ideas and started picking you apart for your chrome.
Pulling gently against the handcuffs around the faucet already digging bruises into your wrists, you sat up as much as you were able and sniffed. The air reeked of sitting water and mold. If you had to guess, you were probably still in Pacifica. The fact struck you as odd. Maelstrom’s turf bordered Watson to the north, not all the way down here in the high-as-hell land of the delusional wash up actors. Something was up.
You blinked against the black eye that was surely forming on your face and licked your cracked lips. Sweat beaded on your upper lip, and you wiped it off on your upper arm. No reason to give them any sign that you were actually incredibly nervous.
“Hey, toothpick,” you called to a Maelstrom reclined back in a couch within your vision. He was skinny as all get out, and the five red cybernetic eyes drilled into his face made him look like some kind of fucked up bobble head. “Can I get a little something to drink? No offense, but your service here sucks. I’ve been waiting for ages.”
The goon rolled his wrist to flip you off before settling back against the ratty cushions again.
“I’d really like to speak to your manager,” you went on, craning up in the filthy tub. You couldn’t imagine what you must have smelled like. “This is getting to be unacceptable.”
“Shut your fucking mouth, you little bitch.”
“Make me, big boy.”
In less than a few moments’ time, the goon had gotten to his feet, crossed into the dilapidated bathroom, and brought down a chrome-d out fist against the planes of your face. Pain like fire and ice raced through your systems, throwing your head back and pulling a startled yelp from the back of your throat. Tendrils of fury and shock ebbed through your veins, but they couldn’t do much against the rocking, uncoordinated sensations now holding the reins to your world.
“You better learn to get that tongue under control before you lose it,” the goon said somewhere above you, and you felt him shove your face against the side of the grime-ridden tub. “The Voodoos don’t take too kindly to backtalkers.”
Attempting to keep the bile in your throat down, you blinked a few times against the haze clouding your vision. You felt a bit of hot, thick blood slowly trickling from your nostril. Was your nose broken? “The Voodoo Boys?” you asked through the thundering in your ears. “I didn’t even think you and them brushed dicks, with your hunting ground being up north.”
The goon’s boots crushed broken glass beneath his weight as he leaned back against the sink that looked ready to collapse with just a wrong look in its direction. “We don’t,” he said, then spat on the ground before pulling a cigarette from behind his ear. “Black magic fools have got a pretty price out for your head, baby. Turns out they don’t take too well to having their gun market shot up.”
You sniffed at the blood leaking from your nose.
Oh - yeah, you had done that. A few weeks back, you’d picked up a gig that required the need for a human trafficker to be taken out before he could make his business boom. Turns out, he’d been hiding in Voodoo territory. One thing had led to another, as they had the tendency to do, and the entire ordeal had ended with a dead trafficker, a bullet graze to your arm, and a small firearms market in Pacifica in hysterics trying to escape your gunfire.
Much as you despised this city sometimes, you had sworn an oath to yourself when you first began to pull dangerous stunts like this all those years ago. No matter what happened, you wouldn’t let an innocent person get caught in the crossfire.
It had been easy at first. Deal with business in back alleys where no one was around, and no one but those who deserved it got hurt. But things slowly got complicated. Jobs required public spaces and less room for error. Civilians got curious and peeked behind the curtain. Accidents happened.
There had been an instance that still stuck in your mind to this day, a young man who had been so absorbed in the music blaring from his headphones he hadn’t even heard you screaming at him to move as your target raised a pistol. It hadn’t been a pretty sight. You could still recall the smell of iron as you tied a tourniquet around the kid’s shoulder and called emergency services on your vision screen. He had cried. Begged you not to let him die. Apologized for getting in the way, anything and everything that came into his disoriented mind.
You never knew if he made it or not. The ambulance had whisked him away too quickly, and the shadows you’d been hiding in were too dark for the officers to spot you.
That day you shot up the Voodoo Boys’ gun market, no bystanders had been injured. You made sure of it.
But it seemed they still had not liked the bullet holes stuck in the walls.
“So what?” you finally said as the Maelstrom goon exhaled a cloud of smoke. “You going to trade with them or something?”
“Precisely,” he replied, then inhaled again and blew the smoke in your direction. The cloud of white made your eyes water, but you refused to let him see how the pain made you squirm. “Deal’s going down when the sun’s up, so I’d make my peace with whatever god, if I were you.” He grinned a sickly-looking smile, showing off the metal caps on his teeth that made him look like a mechanical demon of some kind. “I hear they like to play with their food before they eat.”
He left you in the tub, hands cuffed above your head and blood spilling from your nose, down your cheek, into the fabric of your collar. Everything in you ached, especially the place somewhere deep in your middle where you’d been kicked a number of times back at the docks. You wouldn’t doubt it if a rib had been cracked.
Christ, you were so fucking naive. Of course your new fixer had sent you right into a set up. Now that you thought about it, you had once seen a Maelstrom tattoo poke from his sleeve when he lifted his arm. He was going to profit from this circumstance, Kiroshi tech or ransom.
Turning your face so that the goons wouldn’t see the red lights that flooded over your optical units, you brought up your vision screen and attempted to call Jackie. Before the first ring even had a chance to begin, a message erupted across the screen.
OUTGOING CALL UNAVAILABLE.
Releasing a slow, pained breath, you shut your eyes and rested your throbbing head against the edge of the tub. They had told you not to do this, much less alone. Jackie had told you to drop it, because he’d been in this business longer than you, and he knew when lost causes were lost. Fuck, you should have listened to him. Why did you have to be like this? So gung-ho, so eager to impress even when you had no one to prove yourself to?
Deep down, you knew why. It was because you were a street rat. A kid who had been pawned for a few grams of drugs, a mutt that had been raised by the bouncers and madams and right hands of gang leaders your entire life. It was because the world had decided early on, before you could even speak up for yourself, that you were going to be a no one.
Then, in what had seemed like your first stroke of luck, you had met another no one.
Jackie had been running with the Valentinos when you first met him; he’s been nothing more than an errand boy then, some scrappy kid with a limp in his leg and his teeth bared when someone even glanced at him. You had been caught rifling through the side bag of some big shot Valentino’s motorbike and dragged by the hair to the guy who’d been left in charge while Daddy Val was out of town. Your punishment was to be death. Your executioner?
Jackie Welles.
A final test, they’d said as they handed him the gun and told him to take you out back, to see if he was really Valentino material.
You remembered the look in his eyes as you stared up at him, his barrel pressed to your forehead and tears streaming down your cheeks as you begged for mercy. He’d looked so hesitant, so tentative to tighten his finger around the trigger and finish the job. You saw yourself reflected in his gaze; just some kid trying to make it by in the city, doing things that would stain your hands so irrevocably you wouldn’t recognize them when you looked down.
Jackie had not painted himself with your blood that day. Instead, he’d hauled you to your feet and raced with you away from that back alley, away from the Valentinos, away from the fate the universe had set for you both.
You had been inseparable ever since. First there came the friendship, the inside jokes shared over food copped from his mother’s kitchen and singing along to the radio while you helped him in his garage. Then came the something more, slowly at first, then unstoppable. The lingering touches while patching up after street fights, that first kiss shared on the roof, the feeling of his body on top of yours and your legs locked around his hips and the moans and cries and gasps swallowed up by the other.
You suddenly felt like a stupid little kid, frightened and wanting to run to him. You were V, for god’s sake, one of the most infamous mercenaries in Night City, but goddamnit, you wanted your boyfriend to hold you close and tell you that you were safe.
Fuck, you were pathetic.
You were sure if the Maelstrom had blocked your communication devices, they must have also found a way to disrupt the tracker in your head that only Jackie and Viktor had access to. You had no way of calling them, letting them know you needed them, crying out for help.
Your man wasn’t coming to save you.
No one was coming to save you.
Just like you insisted on doing this job alone, you would die alone.
It couldn’t have been earlier than five in the morning or so when the Maelstrom goon you’d spoken to before shoved your head against the tub to wake you.
“Wakey wakey, sunshine,” he said in that glitchy, fucked up voice of his. “Time for your field trip.”
You suppressed a groan as he unlocked your wrists from the tub faucet and you slumped down, your arms screaming in relief. You’d lost feeling in them maybe a few hours ago, after they’d been numb and tingly for too long before that to really know. But it was all too short-lived. The goon hauled you out of the tub and through the wrecked apartment toward the front door. There, another freak waited with a bandana wrapped in his hand.
“Get that shit away from me,” you said and squirmed when he began to pull it around your head. The first goon connected his fist with your neck, which had you reeling long enough for the blindfold to be tied snug over your eyes, and another to be tied over your mouth. Your teeth bit into the dirty fabric and a flood of disgusting tastes shot onto your tongue. You tried your best not to gag and puke then and there.
A hand grabbed the back of your head and brought you close to another face. Even through the flavorful rag in your mouth, you could still smell the rotten meat on his breath.
“Listen up and listen close, doll face,” he said against your ear. We’re goin’ to walk outside and you’re goin’ to sit tight and silent while we work this deal. No yellin’, no runnin’, no bullshit. You copy?”
You swallowed thick, then nodded.
“Good. Let’s move.”
Behind the blindfold you saw the faint flash of daylight as the front door opened and you were marched outside. The warm, salty air of Pacifica hit you like an obligated embrace. The smell made your nostrils twitch. Fuck, you missed the smell of the apartment you shared with Jackie, of the noodle bar outside the complex and the leather of his bike.
The Maelstrom goons were soon joined by a number of others, as told by their mumbled greetings and the footfalls that surrounded you. You walked for what seemed an eternity, tripping over concrete jutting up and overturned crates lying in your path only to be yanked up by your collar when you stumbled. You wouldn’t be surprised if they were actually walking you into the obstacles in your way.
After what could have been either ten minutes or fifty, you were yanked to a halt. If you listened close, you could hear the sound of the waves and a nearby highway. You were by the beach.
Your attention was pulled to somewhere in front of you when heavy, almost ground-shaking footfalls approached. You felt the grip on your collar tighten slightly.
“This is her?” asked a man in that heavy Jamaican accent the Voodoo Boys spoke in.
“Yeah, this is the one,” replied a Maelstrom somewhere to your right. “Scanned for facial recognition and everything. It’s her.”
Footsteps came closer. You were forced to take a step back when the goon holding you cowered slightly.
The Voodoo man said, much closer now, “You give her here.”
“Not until we see the eddies. Pop ‘em into my account, and then we’ll hand the chick over.”
There came a long, stifling few moments of quiet as you assumed the eddies were transferred between accounts. It was agonizing. You didn’t exactly like the Maelstrom, but you knew that compared to the Voodoo Boys, they’d been treating you like royalty. You felt yourself sweating, your palms growing sticky, and tried to come up with any kind of plan. There were way too many of them to make a run for it - plus, you were cuffed and blinded. It would be like shooting an eyeless street rat.
Your heart nearly exploded from your chest when a large, beefy hand wrapped around your upper arm. “Money is yours now,” said the Voodoo man as he gripped you right. “And girl is ours.”
The Maelstrom had just let go of your collar when, from somewhere to your left, there came a familiar holler. “You all are gon’na wish you’d never fuckin’ gotten out of bed today, hijos de perra.”
You jerked in your captor’s grip.
Jackie.
You heard the sounds of guns being raised and safeties being flipped off, but the gunfire reached them first before they’d even thought to pull their triggers. Blood spattered across your face and you ducked for cover beside what you felt to be a van, bringing your aching, screaming arms up over your head. Your nerves were all alight with panic, never sure whether the bullets spraying the tarmac nearby were from your captors or your savior. All about you, Maelstroms and Voodoos shouted and yelled, scrambling for some kind of order or direction. A grenade exploded close enough that you felt the heat through your clothes, and it drove you to your stomach and underneath the van. The smell of gasoline and concrete enveloped you, but you preferred it to the reek of blood and lead.
You didn’t bother removing your blindfold, because you knew that even if you did, you’d still be squeezing your eyes shut. Suddenly you were back to that moment all those years ago, on your knees over a dying young man trying to staunch the bleeding assure him everything would be fine.
And in this moment, you didn’t care that it might have made you weak or pathetic or small, but you were afraid. You wanted someone to tell you it would be alright, that you were going to be fine.
After what seemed an entire lifetime, the firefight fell to a now-deafening silence. You listened to distant footsteps against the ground, praying with everything you had in you that you would recognize them, that they belonged to the man you loved. A moment later, a string of Spanish curses rang out across the bloodied battleground.
“Hijos de puta! Eso es lo que obtienes cuando jodes con mi chica. Ardeos en el infierno, todos vosotros!”
“Welles,” said another man. “We even now?”
“Yeah, yeah, hombre, scram out’ta here. We’re even.”
Still beneath the van, you listened to the sound of cad doors slamming shut and tires screeching as vehicles peeled away from the scene. They were wise to book it so soon after the fight; NCPD would be swarming the place in a while, especially being so close to the highway. Had you been your real, sensible self, you would have crawled out, grabbed Jackie, and high tailed it. But you were too enveloped in the smell of gasoline and the feeling of blood that was not your own slowly drying on one side of your face.
“V?” called Jackie from somewhere nearby. His boots crunched against shattered glass. When he spoke again, his voice was more strained than it had been before. Fear danced on his tongue. “V!”
You finally forced yourself to reach up and tug the gag from your mouth. “Here,” you called in a shaky voice. “I’m here.”
Not even a moment later, hands were guiding you out from under the van and onto your own wobbly feet. The blindfold was gingerly pull over your head, and you winced as brightness like the second coming of Christ took over your world. Jackie gripped your shoulders so hard they ached, staring down at you with an intensity you knew would melt your soul if you met his eyes. So instead, you kept your gaze stuck on the chains around his neck, ashamed and frightened and so incredibly exhausted.
A long, long moment later, he exhaled a heavy sigh that sounded like it carried the weight of an entire world on it. “Come on, chica,” he said, placed a hand on the small of your back, and began to lead you toward his car where it had been parked on the empty side of the lot where the deal was supposed to take place. “Let’s get you out’ta here.”
The ride back to Little China was one of the worst you’d ever had; hell, you preferred being unconscious in the trunk of the Maelstroms’ van than this. At least then you hadn’t had to face the silent, seething wrath of your boyfriend.
Jackie said nothing as he drove, only kept one hand on the wheel of the car and the other on the stick shift between the two of you. His expression had darkened into one of fury, but it was the quiet kind, where his lowered brow and his slightly lifted jowl spoke for him. His shoulders had locked into a tense square and the grip he had on the front wheel had paled his knuckles.
You wished he would do something. You wished he would yell at you, scream and swear, tell you that you were an idiot for going after that shipment when he’d specifically told you not to. You wished he’d pull the car over and make you walk home. Fuck, a tiny part of you wished he would hit you.
But you knew he wouldn’t. Jackie Welles would never hurt a soul in his life that didn’t deserve it - not ever. In all the years you’d known him, he had never once raised a hand toward you, made you even think he would in his rare moments of anger and fury. Sometimes he yelled, sure. You’d once even seen him hurl a glass against the far wall. But he had always apologized for raising his voice. He’d apologized, and cleaned up the glass, and lie his head in your lap as you told him it was alright.
No, you knew he would never hurt you, even if his mind was gone and all that was left was a walking piece of muscle and chrome.
So you both sat in the poisoned silence, uttering not a word.
He took you to Vik’s place first. There, he stood with crossed arms and a stance that would have sent fucking Arasaka himself running while your ripper popped your nose back into place, repaired your chrome, overrode the bug the Maelstrom had installed in your head.
Then he took you home.
Jackie told you to undress once you arrived at your apartment with a single command that punctured a fresh hole in your lungs. “Strip,” he said, dropped his gun belt in your shared weapons vault, then disappeared into the bathroom.
You were not one to disobey in this state.
He helped you bathe, even took a rag and gently wiped away the blood that had spattered across your face, trickled down your nose and across your lips and chin. He extended your arms under the water to inspect bruises. He washed and cleaned scrapes. When you were finished, he brought you a fresh pair of night clothes, then helped you limp up and into bed.
You sat on the edge of the mattress, watching as he muttered quietly to himself in his mother tongue and stripped off his tank top. The muscles in his back flexed beneath his bronze, sun-kissed skin, but the sight didn’t invoke the same feeling it would have yesterday. Instead, all you felt was shame, and anger, and most of all, helpless.
When he kicked off his boots, still mumbling under his breath, you finally punctured the thick tension hanging over you.
“Will you please talk to me, Jack?” you said, gripping the comforter beneath yourself. “Please, say anything.”
“Oh, mujer,” he barked from across the room as he shook his head and faced away from you. “You don’t want me to talk to you right now. I ain’t got any words you’ll like.”
You refrained from rolling your eyes at him. “Hit me with ‘em,” you snapped in his direction. “I’m not some fucking kid, Jack. I can handle you telling me what a fuck-up I am, or that I need a babysitter or some shit.”
“You wan’na play this game with me, V?” Jackie stood from where he had been bending over to grab his boots and throw them in the corner, drawing himself to his full height that threatened to challenge the doorway behind him. “Fine. I was gon’na tell you that you ain’t got your fuckin’ head screwed on right, but it seems like maybe you know that already.”
“What made you just now notice?” you snipped, your voice dripping with an acid you hardly ever took up with him.
“I don’t know, maybe it was when you go and get yourself nabbed by the fuckin’ Maelstrom and I got’ta call in favors I’ve been savin’ to get your ass, because Dios forbid you get yourself into a situation that requires one goddamn gun to fix.”
You sniffed defensively and looked away, attempting to push down the lump that was forming in your throat. You hated when you fought with him. You hated it when you suddenly felt more alone than you ever had because the one person you would move heaven and hell for was looking at you with a disdain that tore into your heart. “Good to know you lost a few precious fuckin’ favors to come and get me.”
“Yeah. You’re welcome, by the way.”
You couldn’t take it any more, couldn’t take the way his eyes flashed and his teeth bared the way they did when he was angry enough to become part animal like this. Pressing a hand over your mouth to keep him from seeing your bottom lip quiver, you lay down in the bed and rolled over so that your back faced him. Your chest constricted and your throat squeezed as you tried to silence the cry that was crawling up your throat. You only half-succeeded. A small squeak escaped your mouth and a shudder racked your body.
You shut your eyes tight to the rest of the world, instead focusing inwards. The injuries on your face throbbed as you continued to pull a painful expression against your cries. Your rib wailed in agony. But most of all, your heart ached more terribly than you really ever recalled it doing.
Why hadn’t you listened to Jackie? Why hadn’t you put your damn ego aside for once in your fucking life and listened to someone else’s advice? You’d done it again; you had fucked around and found out the price of doing so came from your own pockets. Now you were dirt broke and still too proud to beg.
You pulled in a shuddering gasp and clutched at the pillow beneath your head. “I’m sorry,” you said, just loud enough so that he would hear you. “You were right. I shouldn’t have fucking gone. I didn’t mean for it to go like this.”
For a long moment, the apartment was empty. You began to think that Jackie had left and you’d been too washed up in your own world to even notice. But then the floor creaked in that spot it did near the center of the apartment, and a moment later the bed dipped behind you.
“Aye. Come here, chica. Let me look at that pretty face.” Jackie wrapped his arms around you and, with a flex of the muscles in his biceps, hauled you up and over so that you were lying cradled against his bare front. Gone was his vicious, animalistic expression he’d worn just a few minutes ago, now replaced with that gentle look reserved for late nights and early mornings. He exhaled tiredly and used the callused pad of his thumb to wipe away the tear that had been trailing down your nose.
For a moment or two, neither of you said a thing. This kind of silence was different than the one that held the car captive. This was soft and peaceful, not at all laden with the kind of anger and hurt as before.
“I’m sorry for yelling, amor,” he said, his voice a soft husk. “I just…” He sighed again and shut his eyes before touching his forehead to yours. His nose nestled against your own. “I got freaked. Real scared. Like, out’ta my mind kind’a shit. I didn’t know where you were. Hell, had to scour that damn port to find one of those cyber freaks and make him tell me where you were.” There came another short pause. “We got dangerous lives, V. Things happen in this kind of work. But if somethin’ ever happened to you… I ain’t so sure I would be here in this world after you left it.”
A new, fresh wave of tears muddled your vision as you gently nudged his nose with yours. “I’m right here, Jack.” Despite the aching in your chest, you forced a tiny smile onto your lips. “You’re still stuck with me.”
Jackie let out a small, breathy chuckle that fanned across your face. “Guess I am, querida.”
Using what strength you had left in your bruised and battered body, you craned your neck up and gently, ever so softly, pressed your lips to his. His brow relaxed as you kissed him, his mouth at once moving against your own. You’d had years to practice this, get it right; and it was so, so right.
Jackie’s tongue gingerly swiped over yours, silently asking permission to be let in. You granted it through the smile trying to flood across your features. He always asked and asked and asked, even if he knew the answer would always be yes. It made your heart flutter and your belly flip. You opened your mouth to him and he shifted you closer so that his tongue could lay claim once more to your own, your swelling lips, your very senses.
The Maelstrom and the Voodoo Boys had been fucking idiots to think they could keep you, could own you.
You already belonged to Jackie fucking Welles; and he made sure everyone knew what was his.
As the kiss turned hungrier, more desperate to connect the two of you together again, your core began to ignite to life. When one of his hands settled on the upper plane of your thigh, you released a soft sigh and felt yourself begin to ache with need.
And you told him so.
“Jackie,” you breathed into his mouth, your arms wrapped around his bare shoulders. His ink played like magic beneath your fingers. “I need you. Please. Make me fucking forget they even touched me.”
In response, he captured your lips again, this time more feverish and starving-like. One large, labor-scarred hand kept you up and pressed against him while the other began to glide up over your sleep shorts and toward the waistband. You felt your cunt clench with the promise of what was rapidly approaching.
“Oh, my chica,” he whispered. “I’m gon’na make you forget your own damn name.”
His hand found its way inside your shorts through the waistband, long and thick fingers finding their home at the warm apex of your thighs. You released a small moan when his digits slowly inserted themselves between your legs, expertly sliding over your folds and back up again.
“Already wet for me, chica bonita?” he purred against the shell of your ear. His pointer finger slid between your slick folds, edging along the spot where knew your clit was begging for attention, before he swept it back down toward your entrance. “I barely even started to touch you.”
Words had left your vocabulary entirely, vanished into the dawn as the tip of his finger finally found your clit and began to rub slow, gentle circles around it. A shockwave of pleasure rolled through you like thunder, drawing a whimper from the back of your throat. You pressed your face deeper into your special spot on his shoulder, open-mouthed and already following his hand with your hips.
Jackie shushed you as he continued to draw circles around the bundle of nerves, planting kisses to your forehead and the surface of your temple. His fingers left your clit to travel down your center toward your entrance, where you could feel your arousal already leaking onto your thighs. He gathered some of it with his index finger, then teasingly began to dance around your needy pussy.
You moaned unabashedly, gripping his bicep as your hips bucked. “Fuck, Jackie,” you whined against his pec. “Don’t fucking tease me. Not today.”
“Heh. Sometimes I can’t help myself, especially with this pretty pussy that’s all mine.” Without much warning other than that, he slipped his finger into your cunt until he was sunken in to his top knuckle. A broken, gasping cry was wailed into his skin. He chuckled to himself and continued to kiss your head before slowly pulling his finger out and pushing it back in.
Christ above, you’d never get tired of this feeling. You swore you felt each and every callus, every tiny little line that made up his fingerprint, made him who he was. His finger stroked your walls so perfectly it was hard to believe your cunt wasn’t made for him specifically. Maybe it was. Maybe you were built for him, and him for you, because god almighty, was this a fucking match made in heaven.
Jackie slowly added a second finger to your hole, his palm brushing against your clit every time his hand brushed against your naval. “My poor pretty baby,” he cooed in a low, husky voice that made you clench around his fingers. “Can’t leave her alone for five minutes, can I?”
You’d die happy if you never left his sight again. Why on earth would you want to, when he was fucking you so good with just his fingers? Every nerve ending within you was alight with a heavy, shocking pleasure that felt like you were being electrocuted. You’d happily let him do just that; stick live wires to your skin, just as long as he was fucking you at the same time.
Your hips were bucking up into his hand now, your back arching in his lap and your nails leaving angry red indents in his shoulder. “Ah! God, Jackie, holy shit. Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”
Slowly, you were beginning to feel that wonderful, familiar coil tightening inside of you. It was a wound-up spring only he could wind like this, in the way you would have gone mad without after knowing it for the first time. Your bucks became more frantic, your arousal sliding down your thighs and soaking your sleep shorts.
“Jackie! Jackie, oh fuck, I’m -“
His fingers slipped out of you completely. You actually let out a half-scream of frustration and alarm, your eyes flying open from their dazed state. He peered down at you with lust-blown pupils and an expression you could not place in the heat of the moment. Was he mad? So overtaken by the hard on pressing against your shoulder blades he himself was becoming lost to the world?
You got your answer when he leaned down close to your face, his lips just barely brushing yours when he spoke. “You know I love you too fuckin’ much to lose you, bebe,” he drawled. When your hips thrusted upward, searching for his hand, he grabbed your hip in a bruising grip. “Promise me you’ll never pull a stunt like that again, and I’ll let you cum.”
Oh, he was an animal. A sick one at that. But - weren’t you, as well?
“I promise,” you practically cried against him, your knuckles pale from how hard they gripped his shoulder. “I promise, Jackie, I promise.”
“Promise what?”
“I promise I’ll listen to you,” you babbled as tears of frustration formed in the corners of your eyes. “I promise I’ll never leave you again. I’m yours, Jackie. I belong to you.”
Your mouth opened in a silent scream, but no sound came out when he plunged his fingers back into your cunt and set a brutal, bruising pace. You went limp in his arms and he held you upright with one hand as he thrusted his digits in and out of your sopping pussy. That coil in your stomach wound, weeping joyfully to have been stretched more, and you came with a garbled cry of his name. He slowly withdrew his fingers and you felt your release slowly dripping from your abused entrance.
Jackie made sure you were looking at him when he brought your slick to his mouth and sucked it off his fingers.
If you thought you were tired before he had finger fucked you raw, you knew that space between sleep and consciousness now. Your eyelids threatened to shut for good as you tilted your head against your man’s shoulder and exhaled a shaky breath.
“I’ll be holding you to those promises,” Jackie said, then placed a sweet, gentle kiss at the space between your brows. “Rest, dulzura. I’ve got you.” He nestled his chin onto the top of your head and held you just a bit tighter. “Ain’t no one takin’ you from me again.”
translations:
carino - sweetheart
hijos de perra - sons of bitches
Hijos de puta! Eso es lo que obtienes cuando jodes con mi chica. Ardeos en el infierno, todos vosotros! - Motherfuckers! That’s what you get when you fuck with my girl. Burn in hell, all of you!
hombre - man
mujer - woman
Dios - God
chica - girl
amor - love
querida - dear
chica bonita - pretty girl
bebe - baby
dulzura - sweetness
#cyberpunk 2077#cyberpunk jackie#cyberpunk 2077 smut#cyberpunk 2077 x reader#cyberpunk x reader#jackie welles#jackie welles smut#jackie welles x you#jackie welles x reader#jackie welles x v#cyberpunk jackie welles#jackie welles/reader#jackie welles/you
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For absolutely no reason whatsoever, I feel like we should talk about Limbo. Because it’s a interesting topic with lots of space for theories and perhaps this will help us come back to some common ground of discussion, and be an open enough topic to allow everyone, whether someone who just joined the fandom or has been here for years, to hopefully feel safe and welcome enough to join in and share their thoughts and opinions. Go ahead and use the tag #dsmp limbo so I can see your thoughts, there is no right or wrong answer here.
To start off the discussion, we know the time dilation based on what Wilbur has said is about 30/1 - meaning every 1 second is 30 seconds in limbo, every 2 minutes is 1 hour in limbo, every 48 minutes is 1 day in limbo, every 1 day is a about 1 month in limbo and so on just to give you perspective. We also know based on both what happens in the finale and by what Dream says in the finale, that Limbo changes based on how you die and the circumstances around your death.
Now here are my thoughts at the moment on the matter. While a lot of times I see Limbo in fanfics more personalized to the person killed, one theory I came up with to explain Limbo is that it is actually is more connected to the situation around the death and killer/death.
For example, Schlatt died of a stroke and his limbo then becomes a gym, themeing off the fact of becoming healthy and fit something he wasn’t in life. That lead to his nation being taken over and him not being physically capable to stop it as well as him dying to a stroke, which we are encouraged to believe is caused by his alcoholism.
But I feel like perhaps Schlatt’s is the easiest to connect, Wilbur’s on the other hand is a little weirder. But I think the train station is actually connected to Philza having just arrived, so the relation to travel. Trains are often kept on a schedule to be on time and Philza’s appearance is just in time to kill Wilbur, but too late to stop him from pushing the button.
Mexican Dream’s limbo then reflects more of Dream than of Mexican Dream. With an empty, unfinished nation not unlike how empty and isolated Dream likely felt, as well as angry about nations for being the cause.
This theory becomes a little stronger when looking at Tommy’s 1st Limbo being an existence of basically nothing. And I think this reflects how Dream kinda has nothing at this point. Also relating to how Tommy killed the cat (and am I miss remembering that he also burned his clock?) the only thing(s) Dream had left. It could alternatively relate to an empty stomach adding an element from his death being from the potato.
Rambo’s limbo then connects to Sam for a few reasons, one I think Sam felt very alone in his efforts to keep Dream locked up. Like only he could do it and no one was helping him. It is also similar in the fact that Sam felt so cornered and trapped like killing Ranboo was the only thing he could do, similar to how one would feel stuck on a tiny island surrounded by water that burns. It’s also interesting since for Ranboo, the island is also inescapable like the prison and he is only able to leave when Mexican Dream comes (like Dream only escaping prison when Techno comes), oh and Sam lives on an island too.
Then finally Tommy’s 2nd Limbo I think pretty clearly relates to Tommy asking before he died about why and how Dream saw things, and Dream’s comment of “everything was fine before you came!” so Limbo shows Tommy Dream’s pov at the beginning. Reflecting how Dream feels, his - “I just don’t want to ever be alone.”
Anyways, hopefully that made some sense, those are just some thoughts I have at the moment. Now I wanna hear yours. :) How do you think limbo works? What do you think Punz’s and Dream’s Limbos were? What were Vik’s, Lazar’s and Connor’s Limbos? What do you think would have been Tubbo’s, Techno’s or other character’s Limbos? How was Quackity able to visit Schlatt’s Limbo in the Las Nevadas stream?…
#dsmp limbo#go crazy everybody share limbo thoughts and join my brain rot :)#dreblr#dream smp#dsmp#dsmpblr#lore thoughts#there is 100% definitely no reason whatsoever why this has been on my mind y’all I swear ;] lol XD… yup no reason…#did someone order an essay?
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—what i desire
synopsis: You need an upgrade but being short on cash, you go to your fav ripperdoc in hopes he’ll give you what you need; instead you get something you’ve always wanted.
tags: 18(+) only, mdni, suggestive content, no plot/only p&rn, mentions of f-m oral sex, teasing, slight dirty talk, swearing, mention of a facial, slight mentions of overstim, bottom(ish)!vik, the reader is v
“C’mon Vik,” You say, a pleading tone to your voice. “I’m in the big leagues now. Gotta have the good stuff.”
The older man stares at you. Listening to your pleas with deafening ears. You had finally gotten the chance for a big break in your mercenary work. This job would be the one to put your name up there with some of NC’s legends. Go big or go home was your motto after all. And you would need the proper cyberware to make that happen. Money was just a little too tight right now to be buying said cyberware.
“Plus you’re the best ripperdoc in all of Night City!” You sing in a light hearted tune. Hoping to sway the older man into giving you some new upgrades.
Viktor scoffs at the bribery of words, arms crossed over his broad chest as he looks slightly down at you. “Tell me something I don’t know, kid.” He replies. A smirk is plastered across his face. You can’t see his eyes fully behind the sunglasses he wears, probably wears them even in his sleep, but the smile is enough to tell you; you just might be getting your way.
Or so you think.
“I can’t keep passing out favors hun. You still owe me eddies from the last set I gave you.” Vik sighs, rubbing his hand across the back of his neck. He too still had to make a living and you knew that.
The distant sound of whatever fight Vik’s put on plays somewhere in the background. For the few years you’ve known Vik now, and how you’ve grown to know his love for the ring, he’s tried to sign you up every day since. He obviously missed fighting. So much so he hoped you would one day decide to try your hand at it. But the sound of the fight is the only thing that draws between you two for the moment; as you watch Vik struggle internally.
On one hand, he needed to make money. Money wasn’t everything to him but to Night City it certainly was. You’d bleed gold before blood in this forsaken city. But on the other hand he was weak to you and you knew that too. Knew his gaze softened when you approached him. Or the several times he’d ring your holo just to see how you were doing. Maybe it was just an old man thing to do but you had your doubts. You could always feel the longing in his words when speaking to you. Could feel his yearning from across the room sometimes.
No matter what, at the end of the day, Vik liked you; and would try his best to give you what you wanted. And although you have come to like, and enjoy his company just as much, telling him was far harder than just teasing the older man.
“Please Viky. This’ll be the last time I ask, I promise.” You plead as your hands squish together, begging Vik to give you the newest implants he had. You always paid your dues when you could and Vik knew that.
Yet Viktor sighs, unsure if he should cave for you like he had done so many times before. And that was the dilemma he was struggling with now. He liked you. He really did. But some things were just too complicated. “V…” He begins but you cut him off before he can vocally tell you no and set everything to stone.
“Vik you know I’m good for my word,” You mumble, hands reaching out to grab the thickness of one of Vik’s biceps. Fingers running along the years of toned muscle he oh so casually flexes. “But if you’re having doubts…let me pay in another way.”
The suggestion takes Vik by total surprise. At first he’s confused at what you’re offering. His eyes scan your face behind his glasses as he tries to figure out what you mean. Your hand is very distracting on his arm. Tracing over every little smooth line etched into his skin. You had always wanted Vik. From the moment you two had first met. He was far too caring for a street punk like you. Without him, your leap up the food chain would never have happened. It was all thanks to him. You push your fingers under the hem of his shirt sleeve, making sure your eyes meet his. You could come up with the money within a few weeks but now, all of this, was just an excuse to act on your desires.
That's when Vik pieces all of the puzzle together. The sudden realization makes his face blush bright red. He lifts his free hand to his lips, clearing his throat in an attempt to say something but he’s unable to speak at all.
You push your luck just that much more by running a hand up to his neck. Moving slowly against his body. Feeling the flush of his skin against the pads of your fingertips. Can feel the heat of his body temperature rise with just a single touch of your hand. And for just a brief moment before you’re running a hand down his well toned chest. Even at his age he was in far better shape than most men in Night City; and that meant plenty of women most likely wanted him.
But you were the only one he wanted.
Your hand continues to travel the front of Vik’s body. Running across the buttons of his blue shirt, one by one. Teasing the older man as he stood and let you do it. Your eyes watch his every move; looking for any sign that he may get upset about you teasing him too much. Watch as his head tilts to the side, palm still pressed to his lips, eyes hidden behind his sunglasses he seemingly never takes off, and the darkening blush across his cheeks. You wonder if the red sprawling across his cheeks would reach his ears or better yet, his chest. You’d give anything to find out— and you sure as hell planned to find out.
Vik continues to shyly look away from you. So many wild thoughts must be running through his head. How he wanted all of this; how he should tell you to stop. How many times had he stayed up till the dead of night with you on his mind. In more than one way. At this point you’re just waiting for him to yell at you. To tell you off for fooling around, give you the implants, and write this off as a funny joke between friends. Except it wasn’t a joke and you didn’t want to stop. And by his silence, he didn’t want you to stop either.
“Mmm nothing to say?” You tease the older man with a smirk. Gripping the bottom of his tucked in shirt and giving it a tug to pull it loose from his jeans. He slightly jerks at the motion, tensing under your advancements as his shirt falls around his hips. With his shirt out of the way, you begin to drop down onto your knees. Your fingers move to wrap around the buckle of his belt, keeping your gaze fixed on his flushed face as you unbuckle the belt, and then slip the leather fabric out of the loops of his waistband. “Cute.”
“V.” Viktor practically growls, suddenly finding his voice. The realization of how quickly he was losing his composure was evident now. He knew he was mere seconds away from folding completely for you; just as he knew he should stop this. But knowing and doing are two different things because he certainly does nothing as your fingers clasp around the button on his pants.
“Relax, relax.” You laugh with a scrunch of your nose. Then you’re finally unbuttoning the front of his pants. You pop the metal button out of its secured place before you’re ever so slowly pulling down the zipper.
You unfold your prize like an eager winner. His black jeans come undone easily; and as you gently tug his jeans down, you smile at the reveal of the white of his boxers and the semi-hardening of his cock beneath. You knew you had wanted Vik before but now it was so clear to you as you sit on your knees before him.
You bite your bottom lip as your gaze slips over his body. Eyes flicking all the way up his chest until you’re surely meeting his eyes behind those pesky glasses. And your gaze stays there as your hands rub over the front of his boxers. Putting just a little pressure on the stiffness of his cock in an attempt to make him fully erect. “Look at me.” You softly demand with a small laugh, forcing him to watch your every move as you begin to stroke him through the fabric. Hand moving from the base, outlining every inch of his rather large shaft, to the wet tip, then back down to the base once again. And like a charm, your movement and eye contact does the trick fairly quickly. As now the great Viktor Vektor is solid as a rock beneath your touch.
His hand still covers his mouth but it does nothing to stifle the deep groan he makes as his underwear slides down. Finally letting his cock bounce free into the open air. You can’t help but breathe hot against his wet skin. Your eyes finally break from his to look at the massive member before you. The tip is an angry red and begging to be touched. The muscles of his abdomen flex and quiver at the building up of his want and desire. You were so close you could almost taste it. And you would. Even his body knew that.
Nothing stops you as your hand finally wraps around his twitching cock. The instant relief of being touched has Vik groaning behind his hand. His hips stutter forward, pushing himself further into your grasp to get any kind of friction. To push himself closer to the edge of satisfaction.
“Fuck, V.” Vik barely whispers. He stumbles just slightly back to put all of his weight fully on the desk behind him. His free hand reaches down to grab at his shirt. Tugging it up to get a better look at what you’re doing. Now you have his full unyielding attention.
Good.
You can’t help but lick your lips before diving into your meal. Mouth pressing right up against the head of his cock as you smear whatever precum you quickly could across your lips. The little bit of liquid helps you to push the tip of his cock into your mouth far easier than if you had tried to go without. Even from just his head you knew your jaw was in for a workout. He wasn’t long or relatively packing in the length department but his girth? Shit. Fitting all of him inside was going to be a little harder than you anticipated. Seeing as just the tip was already laying your tongue out flat inside of your mouth.
Him being thicker than you had realized would not stop you though. You wanted this man and you wanted him to feel good. Wanted Vik to feel so good that he would never allow anyone else the chance.
You press on with your eager notions. Using your hand wrapped around his base to keep him feeling good while you slowly got accustomed to his girth. Taking inch by inch until saliva quickly builds up in your mouth, threatening to spill over your lips with every bob of your head. Not a bad thing in this situation, as every drop would be used to work on sucking him off while sinking further down his shaft.
One hand grips at his thighs as you swallow more of him. The other hand is wrapped around the base of his cock to keep him still now. Spit finally dribbles down your chin as you’ve barely managed to hit the half way mark. Every breath you take is a chore now; forcing you to focus on not choking on him as he fills up every inch of your mouth.
You lean back just barely to move back to the tip. Sucking in any leftover spit and precum, tongue rolling over the underside of his head, before you’re pushing yourself further down. Using your newfound leverage to finally push the rest of his shaft between your lips. The hand on the base of his cock quickly moves away as your lips are steadily replacing where your hand once held him.
And with a few more seconds of dragging your mouth across the hardened flesh with every bob of your head, your nose firmly presses against his abdomen as you’ve finally taken all of Vik inside of your mouth.
Vik is a mess beneath you. He’s moan after moan with every single one of your movements. If not for the hand pressed tightly on his mouth you’re sure he’d be a loud, whiny, whimpering mess. Mhm, just how you want him to be. You can feel his thigh tensing under your fingers as he tries his hardest to still himself from thrusting his hips forward. Can feel him twitch in the back of your throat. And by the looks of his heaving chest, he was trying really hard not to unravel. But with your mouth wrapped around him, swallowing him up, sucking him off; it was making it harder and harder for him to remain composed.
With your nose pressed against his body, you manage to breathe in his scent far more easier than you could just hanging beside him. Now you could smell the cheap cologne; a mix of sandalwood and fire. Something strong yet tender just like he is. It made you groan.
Vik mimics your groan as you begin to move again after the brief break. Your mouth tightens around his base, quickly moving along the shaft, all the way back up to the tip, while your hand returns to follow suit. And just like that, you must be doing a good job at it too, as Vik loses his once restrained composure. His can’t help it when his hips begin to move with your flow. Thrusting forward when your mouth hits his tip, needing just that little bit more of friction to keep him feeling good. Chasing your lips in his high as if he’s almost afraid you’ll stop.
With every eager thrust of his hips, you knew he wouldn’t last long. His thrusts were gaining speed, pushing quicker into your lips; his chest heaving with every moan of your name, and you can feel his cock twitching with every brush against the back of your throat.
Good thing he was getting close too. At this point your jaw could barely take much more.
“Fuck, fuck! I’m,” Vik moans as his hand finally slips from his lips. It moves to grip the desk behind him for any sort of stability. From your crouched position you can clearly see the whites of his knuckles as he grips onto his desk. “Close!” Vik barks, ending in a whine as his hips continue to move, never once stopping as he seeks out the finish line of this little pleasant moment.
And it’s truly the sight of Viktor being so disheveled that keeps you going. His usual composure of this stoic, tough boxer, is crumbling apart every second you last that much longer. Now he’s just a man of pleasure; seeking the end of his high as he begs you for it.
His glasses slip off the bridge of his nose that finally gives you the chance to get a really ood look at his face. His eyes are lighter than you remembered and with the flush of his face, they stand out even more in the dim light of his office. And when he looks at you with those pretty, unfocused, blurry eyes full of lust— your heart pounds against your ribcage.
You crave for him like never before. Every night you wanted him to look at you like that. Down the bridge of his nose, hunched before his thighs, letting him fuck into your mouth as he gazes at you taking him so well. The thought makes you moan around the thick of his cock and that’s all he needs before his final straw snaps.
His hips stutter as he breaks down, cursing every curse word that’s ever been uttered before. The whine of your name falls short on his lips as he catches up to his high. Vik cums into the back of your throat. But you figured he was more of a visual man. You pull your mouth off of his twitching cock with a pop, with your hand you run up and down his shaft, pushing out the last few ropes of his cum onto your lips, hitting some of your cheek as well. Your hand keeps moving until Vik is visibly trembling from the quick on set of overstimulation.
Vik’s eyes stare at you but they don’t really see you at the moment. His mind is probably running a mile a minute while he also thinks of nothing at all. His chest falls and rises with every pant. The light of his eyes stares at the mess he’s made across your face.
Your thumb swipes across the mess that sits along your bottom lip. Flicking your tongue out to lick the sticky substance off of your thumb as a smile breaks out on your lips ; staring right back up at Vik as he’s slowly coming down from his high.
“Oh, Vik,” You hum all sweet and gentle to the dazed man. Like the devilish creature that you are, your fingers are once again wrapping around his re-hardening cock. “Wanna keep going?”
#zevrra zevrra!#add a lil spice 🌶️#cyberpunk 2077#cyberpunk x reader#cyberpunk#cyberpunk v#fem!reader#female reader#viktor x you#viktor x reader#viktor x v#viktor vektor#cyberpunk viktor#Viktor Vektor smut#this is pure smxt#god i love that old man#me next me next me next !!!!!
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Okay but hello! I saw your post about a Soulmate!AU for TUA and with season 4 coming I feel like I need to know more sooooo may I?
anon the way you made me screech and giggle and cry tears of joy because of course you may know more?? i've been waiting for this??? for reference, this is the post and this is how i'm tagging the au to keep track of it on my blog. because i may not have a title, but i'm an editor and sometimes a writer and almost always i just have an overreacting imagination. so i definitely needed a tag. anyway! i'll... idk i will give you a few details? hcs? this is the gist of it, buckle up !
the psa for this is that there are two kind of soulmarks: the ones you already have when you are born (if you're born with it; not everyone is and as a matter of fact the only two brellies to have a twin flame are allison and klaus) and the ones that appear through life (way more common). a case could be made to differentiate between these two categories, for which we either talk about twin flames—allegedly what once was one single soul now split in two perfect halves who are said to recognize and yearn for one another—or soulmates—two souls drawn to one another out of compatibility or remembrance who connect and form something.
this may vary from one culture to another, but there generally is no fixed standard regarding romantic or platonic bonds, as every soulmark and soul bond are unique in form and shape and meaning. this is the core of it all.
now. . . when they're little, reginald makes six of his seven children get the umbrella academy tattoo. in this universe, that tattoo is sort of a faux mark, because reginald had a strict and precise stance on soulmarks and at the time claimed that such things were foolish compared to the duty the academy had towards the world. the team should have formed a united front, be a unit, so that tattoo was a symbol that was to be seen as binding. marks and bonds can be made not just by fate, after all! at the time, little viktor was exempt from it because he wasn't part of the academy.
(little did they know that years down the line, in the sixties, an actual mark would appear on that same spot. this time though there would be seven of them.)
anyway, i don't know if you want a rundown of the soulmarks and whatnot? i have an in-depth list of bonds (both marked and not) with backstories and considerations and hcs regarding canon events that is quite lengthy because i imagine the au splitting in two branches at some point—one canon compliant up to season 4 when it's out and one canon divergent post-season 1 or 2—and i'm also writing down a list of the soul bonds within the academy that is basically an abstract from viktor's book (because he would have included it too). i'll keep it short for starters because otherwise i'll end up unloading too much on you all and i'm afraid of being too all over the place, but basically. THE SOUL BONDS:
there's the tattoo of the series/faux mark and the actual soulmark that in my mind appears on top of it mid-season 2 and is shared by the brellies. team zero, hey? then from the oldest to the most recent to manifest we've got. . .
FIVE & VIKTOR, the rings ┈ because i nicknamed them all according to their soulmarks they have this small pigmented ring on the right ring finger that changes in shade depending on the physical distance between them. very subtle and cool and with much lore following canon, as you may guess. the only thing i'm gonna say for now is that five and vik's soul bond goes back to when they were four and it played a small role in the leaving lights on and sanwiches out situation.
LUTHER & ALLISON, the cryptolect ┈ it means that they can speak a language of their own. literally! it's impossible for anybody but them to understand it, reginald probably tried and failed to identify patterns or elements from various linguistic branches to make some sense of it but it just can't be picked up or taught as it's basically second nature. given how luther and allison were as kids it was such a big deal and so obvious that no one even remembers a time before and obviously due to recent events it's kinda cool to me to see it as a bit deteriorated but still ever-present bond.
FIVE & BEN, the wisps ┈ literally what five started calling the two flame-like little spirits that represent his and ben's soul bond after ben pointed out that they looked like the will-'o-the-wisp he'd read about in a book. but also because of the way they would appear and always lead the way to one another. that was their thing. nobody but five and ben has ever been able to see the wisps, not even klaus, so they had a theory that maybe they were an echoed apparition of their souls or something like that. there's a lot of lore/hcs here, too, especially regarding five's disappearance and time in the apocalypse and ben's afterlife as a ghost. all i can say is ‘so close yet far’ and ‘never truly gone’.
KLAUS & BEN, the timers ┈ it is as it says, only there were speculations about what the timers led to given that they weren't aligned (read: they were counting down to different dates) and not even made out of conventional numerals. the soulmark itself was a bit above the inner crook of the left elbow, no darker than a sunspot, regularly in motion and indicating years, months, days, hours, minutes, and seconds in roman numerals, which is part of the reason why it was a bit difficult to interpret with no previous familiarity. even more so if you're oblivious or in denial. again, lore and angst and delayed realization came with a row of light null characters in its stead. quite a bit of baggage because i love them and canon says so.
DIEGO & KLAUS, the compass ┈ more specifically, i have it jotted down as a moving indicator that appeared more or less when they were around thirteen or fourteen. it might have seemed out of the blue then, but all things considered it wasn't that unexpected, especially when you look at season one or if you too think that diego used to haul klaus from the streets or drag him to rehab if they ran into one another. anyway, their soulmark is kind of a compass if you go by its shape. it's embedded on the lower part of the palm of their right hand, towards the thumb (below klaus' hello tattoo), and it does move and spin, but instead of pointing north it points you towards the general direction of the other.
OG!BEN & VIKTOR, the blossoms ┈ the most subtle and late soul bond of them all. i like to think that the lowest numbers were close as kids, given the information we were given, so even though their relationship might have stilled a little in their teens it was still tender enough to grant viktor and ben a soul bond. they were never sure of when it happened because the only instance where the soulmark in on itself becomes visible is when they touch. physical contact equals a tiny luminescent outlined flower appearing near the knuckle of their left middle finger. to which i feel the need to remind you all of this:
so these are the soul bonds within the hargreeves siblings! without taking into account sparrow!ben (or the sparrows in general) because stars do i have something in store for pookie as well.
i was tempted to add more, but i also wanted to emphasize how there doesn't always need to be an actual, visible soulmark for a bond to be important plus i'm waiting to see if season 4 makes me add more lol. diego is a primary example of this because, without spoiling anything, he secretly craved that kind of bond as a child, even though his siblings love him just the same regardless. it's also the reason why i have a list of non-marked bonds as well as one for soul bonds featuring characters outside of the academy. there might also be a playlist somewhere, because each bond has a song in my mind, but i digress!
this has gotten super long already so for now, that's it that's all. but i'm tagging this au and working on it and my inbox is there if you uuh, wanna chat about it more? ngl it was hard not being able to rant about it with anybody, because there are some elements and facts and implications there that genuinely alter my brain chemistry daily. so thank you for the ask, nonnie! <3
#soulmatuaverse#tua#luther hargreeves#diego hargreeves#allison hargreeves#klaus hargreeves#five hargreeves#ben hargreeves#viktor hargreeves#i need you all to understand i was writing my uni dissertation and running on spite and gallons of water when i came up with this <3#still. i'm quite attached ngl. and also very nervous so uhhm HERE#57#13#56#46#24#67#1234567#ciel plots#asks
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Hello! May I request some fem!reader x Viktor from Arcane please? Perhaps some late night studying with him, fluff all the way!! Do whatever gets you feeling creative, thank you! <3
Arcane augmentation (Viktor x Fem!Reader)
Thank you for the request! I did my best with this one.
Tags : Fluff
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Viktor was painfully addicted to his work, after how much success his projects had finally received. Hextech was the most advanced that Piltover had experienced yet, and he wasn't about to let it it fester. No. He dreamed big.
Finding himself engrossed in his studies once again in the comfort of his lab. Fidgeting with the glowing orb every now and then, viewing its behavior, then jotting a scribble of notes in his book as fast as his thoughts rolled in.
"Back at it again, Vik?" her warm smile could be felt without him having to turn to look at her. "what brings you to the lab at this hour?"
"I find solace in the pursuit of knowledge" Viktor confessed. Tapping his pen against the desk as his eyes followed the whirs and tumbles of the blue stone inside the metal contraption. "And it seems we share a similar passion"
Y/n took a chair next to his, eyes lighting up at the specimen in front of her. "What are you studying" she struggled to look away from its beauty.
"I am delving into the intricacies of arcane augmentation" he motioned towards the doodles and math on his page, face becoming more ambitious as he spoke.
"using this?" She pointed to the glowing power source on the table
"Yes, It is the foundation of hextech" He turned to face her in his chair, mapping her face while she was unaware of the stares.
They had known each other for quite some time, studying in university together on the same course. And sticking with each other in the field of science. Y/n became a great scientist of her own nature, but after hearing of his project she couldn't help but join their team. His passion of conjoining magic to their day to day. And his further passion of improving the under city.
Her hand left her side, towards the orb, only to be taken in by Viktor's. "Don't touch it, we still don't know what it will do to human skin when active" his fingers mindlessly stroked the soft skin on the back of her hand. He put her hand down when he realized, hurrying to his feet as best he can. A beautifully carved stick assisting him.
"Watch this"
He hobbled over to another desk sat in the corner of the room, turning a metal handle till it clicked. A few seconds passed of nothingness. But then the orb began to spin vigorously, causing y/n to jump out of her chair and back. The cage around it lowered and the orb was set loose, giving out hues of sparkling waves. Viktor stood watching her expressions as their feet slowly moved off the ground. The waves stopping when gravity ceased to exist.
"Viktor?" A half worried voice expelled from the young lady, looking as if she was trying to swim in the air and failing.
"Don't worry" His voice soothed her, coming from behind as his arms wrapped around her to stable her. "This is one of the many wonders of hextech, I just haven't completely figured out how it would be useful yet." He laughed softly, spinning her in the air to see his face.
She soon realized there was no danger and let herself enjoy the brief moment of flying. "This is amazing, we are floating!" She leapt backwards, letting the air move her around the room as if she was a fish experiencing the sea for the first time. The two danced together, two meters off the ground. Viktor reveling in the freedom on his legs, appreciating being able to move them.
They soon began their descent as the magic wore off. Somehow managing to land on their feet.
"That was amazing, you're amazing" y/n turned to the man in front of her. He chuckled, looking away as a small amount of red painted his cheeks.
"Would you care to help me? Study, i mean." He motioned towards the tech back on his desk like it was before. Y/n excitedly sitting back in her chair and moving it closer in to the desk.
"I'd love nothing more"
The two sat together, chatting away till the sun began to dawn on them. Not even needing coffee to keep them awake, their passions and their good companies being caffein enough.
Math scribbled on hundreds of pieces of paper. Their goal, figure out how to duplicate the mass. Viktor had a theory that this energy source was somehow alive, which meant the organism could be duplicated. Like a plant. By suspending the organism in a growth medium, like agar, you can duplicate or grow a plant. He just needed to figure out how to access its 'DNA', considering it was sealed in a hard case.
"Wait" y/n grabbed his note book, bringing it closely to her face. "Your math... it's wrong. That 'x' shouldn't be there" She pointed to the mistake on the page, Viktor's face showing the puzzle pieces in his head clicking together.
"That's why it didn't work" He mumbled to himself, hurriedly working to fix his mistake. "You're a genius, y/n"
His eyes met hers, both realizing their mystery had been solved. Figuring out how to shatter the shell around it safely.
They found themselves in each others arms in a tight embrace, one they had needed for a long time. Not pulling away when they noticed the bold move.
Viktor cleared his throat, looking down at her in his arms. "Would you care to test out our theory with me?"
"Absolutely"
#arcane#fanfiction#arcane league of legends#viktor#viktor x reader#viktor arcane#jayce talis#arcane x reader#arcane powder#caitlyn kiramman#ekko#jinx#mel medarda#viktor fluff
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for the smut drabbles number 44 "You're really messing with my head here." and 80 "F-Fuck, I don't think I'm gonna last long if you keep doing that." with Viktor and Reader just having fun and being gentle with each other? 🥺
I hope you feel better soon and that the stress will go away 💕 I am already eternally grateful for the things you have written (especially LGP) and I wouldn't mind waiting a decade for an update
Ohoho, don't worry, the stress is now ✨gone✨ But more on that later! For now, some modern flavored spice for you and your endless patience w/ me 😘
Tags/Warnings: 18+, Viktor x AFAB Reader, modern!au, phone sex, dirty talk lite, mutual masturbation, he's on the sweeter, cheekier side for once
It starts with, “I miss you.”
Sweet and sad, you sigh it into the receiver the moment he picks up his phone. It’s hardly been twenty-four hours, but he understands the pull. He’d like you close too. Your love speaks loudest twined around him, in all those little touches—fingers in his hair, skin to skin—but this will have to suffice.
You talk and laugh and share your day, and, thinking back, he’s not entirely sure where the shift occurred. Was it the way your voice seemed to turn wistful and needy? Or how he could hear you shuffling around in bed? Was it when he started imagining you fresh out of the shower, curled naked between the sheets with your soft, damp skin after you innocently mentioned you’d just stepped out?
Though, come to think of it, that part wasn’t very innocent at all.
Pretty soon, he can’t help that he’s palming himself through his boxers to the sound of your raw, sleepy voice; that he sighs into the line, but it sounds dangerously near a groan.
“You’re really messing with my head here,” you say abruptly, catching on. “Are… Are we really doing this…?”
Viktor huffs a little laugh and decides to push it. Same as he decides to slip his cock out all the way to stroke himself in earnest. “Doing what?” he asks, sweetly feigning ignorance.
He can hear how badly you don’t want to say it, how embarrassed you are in the heavy silence that follows. Or perhaps it’s that you’re scared to be wrong, but he realizes that too late for mercy.
Because you finally whisper, “Are you, um… Touching yourself too?”
“Mmhm,” he hums, and really pushes it. “Do your fingers feel as good as mine, miláčku?”
You breathe out, shaky, and he can only imagine that you’ve slipped in two to fuck yourself on. “They don’t. Not at all.”
“As I suspected. But you’ll do your best for me, no?”
“To what…?”
“To come like I’m touching you. Always so loud…” he muses. Lets his legs splay wider, thumbing languid circles into his cockhead. “I’d like to hear it.”
Confidence builds in your voice with each word. “You wanna know what I’m doing, too? What I’m thinking about?” you ask, and it has him twitching.
His nod is eager, as if you’re there to see it. Like it’s your pretty hand stroking him off in the darkness. “Tell me everything,” he begs, “please.”
Everything, so that he can conjure the perfect picture of you: Knees knocked wide, nipples teased to puffiness dragging along the sheets, prostrated with your ass in the air, though you’d rather be bent over his lap, apparently. Gives him access, the best angle to play with your pussy; to circle your clit with the flat of press of three fingers when you’re desperate for relief from his teasing. That’s what you wish was happening. What he wishes was happening, too, rather than listening as you rut against your hand and pant into the phone.
But it works and works well.
Especially when you whine his name.
“F-Fuck, I don't think I can last any longer if you keep doing that,” he warns, wound tight.
“I can’t—I can’t either,” you gasp, punctuated by the slick press of your fingers, in and out, so loud he can hear what a mess you’ve made of your cunt. “Vik, you don’t understand what your voice does to me.”
But with how you nearly sob your release into the receiver when he says, “Come for me, then,” he has a pretty good idea.
#viktor arcane#viktor x reader#mdni#arcane x reader#reader insert#my writing#no it's not necessarily lgp but uh the initial hesitance of this reader is.. fitting..#2022 birthday prompts
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Early -W2S
words: 1.9k+
warnings: pregnancy, birth.
summary: the boys surprise you with one last trip before you and Harry become parents but it doesn’t go as expected.
notes: hey! Haven’t done one for bog in ages so here’s the longest one shot I’ve ever written to make up for it😚. This was a request and I think it turned out really cute, enjoy🫶🏼💕
Liked by ksi and 205,381 others
y/username: one last trip🫶🏼
Tagged: @wroetoshaw @behzingagram @tobjizzle @faithlousak
-comments-
taliamar: can't wait to see you!😘
-> y/username: hurry up!!
faithloisak: no not that pic pahahaha
y/nfanpage21: are they all on a trip together??🥺
user41095623: the horse🫶🏼
Me and Harry have been together for around 7 years and got married a two and a half years ago. We had a very private wedding with just our closest friends and family. Over a year after we got married we decided that we were ready for a baby and were really excited about it. It took just a few months before I had a positive pregnancy test in my hand. I told Harry that night and he was elated. Everyone has been so supportive and the girls are so excited. We also decided to keep the baby's gender a secret so have only been buying gender neutral clothes.
Last month the boys surprised me and Harry with a three day long trip to a huge lodge/ house in wales, the reason it isn't somewhere extravagant (like usual) is because I'm almost 36 weeks pregnant and can't fly. It's going to be JJ, Simon, Josh, Tobi, Ethan, Harry, Freya, Talia, Faith, Olive and me, unfortunately Vik wasn't able to make it due to being busy abroad DJing. Since we're going to be pretty busy once we have a baby the boys wanted to have one last trip before we become parents.
This morning I got up early and got ready. Since we're going to be in the car for a few hours I put on some jeans and a simple white top. Then Harry got up, took a shower and once all our bags were in the car, we left.
Faith called me after a few minutes of driving, "hey!" She said excitedly. "Hi! We just left." I replied. "Same, it took ages to get Olive in the car. One second she was in tears, then she needed her nappy changed... that'll be you soon." She laughed. I sighed "can't wait." I said sarcastically. She giggled "well, I'll see you there!" "Bye!" And with that I put the phone down.
After almost a three hour drive we finally arrived at our destination. Harry got out and quickly ran around the front of the car to help me out. "Hey!" Me and Harry turned around to see Tobi walking towards us. "Alright mate?" Harry asked as they did their little bro handshake. "Ye great, how are you too?" He pulled me into a quick hug. "Really good! I'm excited to have some time to relax and this place is beautiful!" I answered. Before anything else was said Ethan's car pulled up. Faith jumped out excitedly and quickly ran to give me a hug while Ethan got Olive from the back seat. "Hi!" Faith exclaimed. I smiled "how was your drive?" I asked. Faith went on to tell me about the fact Olive was crying the entire time, up until the last five minutes when she inconveniently fell asleep.
I took a picture of the boys outside the house and sent it to the group chat along with a caption telling them to hurry up. JJ arrived a few minutes later, then Josh and Freya. Talia text the group saying that they were going to be late. So we decided to go on a walk and explore.
We grabbed our coats and started walking, Olive being carried by Ethan. After just five minutes we ran into a dog who seemed to be all by himself. Just as Faith knelt down to pet it I pulled my phone out and told her to pose for a picture. She awkwardly smiled at the camera and we all burst out laughing. The owner started running towards us a few seconds later "oh my gosh. I'm so sorry!" She said after calling her dog over. Faith smiled "don't worry about it."
As we continued walking we spotted a beautiful horse in a field across from the one we were in, both me Faith and Freya took a photo. Then we made our way back to the house. All the boys went out in Ethan's car to get the food for the next few days while we chilled. They came back after an hour with a large selection of food and we decided that we were going to have spaghetti bolognaise for dinner.
Simon and Talia finally arrived a while later, just after we started making dinner. Faith started making the sauce and I helped her by cooking the pasta and tidying up as we went. Talia quickly jumped in to take my place once she'd put her bags in her and Simon's shared room, telling me to 'go sit down and relax'. Which is exactly what I did. Sitting down on the couch next to Harry I sighed and placed my legs on his lap. "You alright?" He whispered into my ear. I hummed "yea."
We ate dinner together at the huge dining table and it was delicious. We decided to watch a movie so all sat in the living room. Me and Harry sat in our previous position on the couch, along with Faith, Ethan and JJ while Talia sat on Simon's lap in the arm chair and Tobi, Freya and Josh sat on top of some pillows on floor. We decided on a movie and within an hour JJ was fast asleep. I was fighting to keep my eyes open when Harry spoke "do you wanna go up to bed?" He asked quietly. I just nodded. "Come on then."
We said good night to everyone and Harry helped me upstairs. "Are you alright?" He asked me as I took my makeup off. "Yea, it's just- my back hurts." I replied. He walked over to me and placed a hand on my lower back, gently rubbing circles. I hummed and leaned into his touch. When we finally got into bed Harry wrapped his arms around me and placed his hand on my bump. I rested my hand on top of his and drifted off to sleep.
The next morning I woke up with a strong urge to pee. I slid out of the bed but just before I made it to the ensuite I felt warm liquid trickle down my legs. I looked down "did I just piss myself?" I thought. My eyes widened "no, it's too early!" I whispered to myself. I waddled to the toilet and sat down. "What do I do? We're in the middle of nowhere!" My brain raced, along with my heart.
Once I'd calmed myself down slightly I stood, took a deep breath and went to wake Harry up. "Haz wake up, Harry!" I shook him. He slowly opened his eyes "what is it, babe?" He mumbled. "I think my water just broke." He immediately shot up, now fully awake "what?!" He exclaimed. "Shh, you're gonna wake everyone up!" I whispered.
When we figured out what we were going to do I got changed out of my wet pyjamas and into some sweatpants and one of Harry's t-shirts, brushed my teeth and tied my hair back into a ponytail. All while Harry tried to calm himself down. "How are you so calm right now?" He asked me. I turned my head to him "everything's fine Harry, I've not even had a contraction yet-" just as the words came out of my mouth a tight pain spread through my stomach "ow" Harry rushed over to me "oh shit- are you ok? Are you having a contraction?" He rambled. I nodded "I think so." The pain wasn't that bad (yet) but I was struggling to focus on what Harry was saying.
Once it finished Harry helped me down stairs. I assumed it was really early, like 5am or something but almost everyone was sat in the kitchen. I glanced the clock on the wall, it's half nine. "Hey! Uh is everything ok?" Ethan asked. Me and Harry shared a look. "What's wrong?" Talia stepped toward us. "Uhm- y/n's water just broke." Harry said. All of their eyes widened and their mouths fell open slightly. "What?!" Faith expressed. "So the baby's coming like now?!" Simon asked loudly. "Well, probably in the next few hours." I answered calmly. "No no no, this can't be happening!" JJ nervously started to pace back and forth. Me and Harry giggled slightly at how stressed they all were.
Just as everyone started to calm down I was hit with another contraction. I grabbed onto the counter and my eyes fluttered closed. Harry gently rubbed my back and everyone went silent. I chuckled lightly through the pain "guys I'm fine."
Faith and Talia helped me to the car while Harry pulled together a bag with some of my things. "This will be a good story to tell in ten years." Faith said as we walked out of the front door. I giggled. Once we got to the car I got into the passenger seat and Harry raced out of the house a few seconds later. Everyone waved us off as we pulled out of the driveway "good luck!" Freya shouted.
The nearest hospital was around half an hour away so I had a few painful contractions as Harry drove, nervously glancing over at me as I breathed through them. I called my mum and told her what was going on, she chuckled "it could only happen to you, good luck and call me when she's here!" "Mum we don't know if it's a girl yet." I told her for the one hundredth time since I told her I was pregnant. "Just a feeling!" She exclaimed "I love you." she continued "love you too, bye."
When we finally arrived at the hospital me and Harry walked inside and were almost immediately taken to a room. The doctor checked me out and told me I was almost 7 centimetres dilated and that it wouldn't be long.
She was right because just an hour later I was holding our beautiful baby girl, mum was right. Even though she's early she was checked over immediately and is perfectly healthy. After getting cleaned up a nurse came in to tell me that there were some people in the waiting room that wanted to see me. I told her to let them in, knowing exactly who it was. A few minutes later Talia ran into the room, followed by everyone else. "Oh my god!" She whispered, careful not to wake up the sleeping baby. "Is it a girl?!" Faith whispered. I nodded with tear stained cheeks "yea." All the boys (except Ethan since he was outside with Olive) gave Harry a pat on the back while the girls fussed over me and the baby.
The next day we drove home. Thankfully we'd already installed the baby seat into the car so we could actually take her home. "I still can't believe she's ours." I said as I watched her from my place in the back seat. "Ye, we're actually parents, it's crazy." Harry replied.
y/username
Liked by tobjizzle and 1,501,923 others
y/username: our baby girl🤍 Our hearts couldn't be more full, welcome to the world little Willow Lewis. Mummy and daddy are so excited to be your parents.
-comments-
wroetoshaw: my girls❤️
behzingagram: congratulations again guys😁
faithloisak: cuties💕
r0sielewis: I'm in tears🥺
y/nfanpage21: OMG!!
user71015839: wroetoshaw and y/n are parents. I'm officially old😭
#w2s#harry lewis#harry w2s#wrotoshaw#w2s imagine#wroetoshaw x reader#wroetoshaw oneshot#wroetoshaw#harry lewis x reader#fanfic#image#oneshot#simon minter#x y/n
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