#curved railing systems

[nomaintenancedecks]

Curved Deck Railing System

[fyuyushia]

°|Capture target: You!

Jinwoo reunites with an old friend—an old crush—and unexpectedly stumbles upon an eccentric quest titled: Romance.

Masterlist for the series

I—I know I said full fledged fic but like... I have so much I want to do with it I gyatt to make it a series man.

Sing Jinwoo fails to comprehend what goes on in the system's mind(if it even has one) whenever it issues borderline insane quests to him every now and then. Though he was no stranger to the system's eccentric quests that popped up once in a while, this was by far the most baffling one yet. He doubts it would even be topped by anything else.

[Quest: Romance the capture target: [Name]

          Rewards: Weapon: Lovey dovey-kyun! [S-rank]

              Skill: Love is the greatest superpower! | Knight in shining armor

Accept?

Yes/No]

Jinwoo blinked, surprise flickering in his usual monochromatic eyes. A romantic side quest? Sung Jinwoo's brows furrowed as he scrutinized the holograph in front of him.

Written in big bold letters, were words he'd never expected to be asked for by the system. The omniscient being who somehow helped him level up, gave one of the weirdest quests yet

He deadpans, nearly visibly cringing at the cutie dovey skill names. What was that supposed to mean?

In the first place, how did he even get to this point—this specific moment where the system asks him to romance someone he's known during high school?

It all started at a highschool reunion. Under Jinah's insistence—who overheard Jinwoo getting ringed by acquaintances from his highschool inviting him for a reunion—he ended up going despite wishing to spend the day training and doing his dailies.

Jinwoo grumbled, his experiences in highschool weren't exactly pleasant. He could count the people that really made a positive difference to his life from those years on one hand. And that was saying something. In his mind, he found no reason to attend such a frivolous gathering. In the first place, he was never even invited and only got added to the group chat recently when news came out that he was Korea's 10th S-rank hunter.

The party was exhausting. Just as he expected, so many of his once upon a time classmates coddled up to him, hoping to curry over his favor now that he was of substance. How despicable.

Seeking respite from the onslaught of plasticity the gathering brought, he found shelter in a nearby balcony. He breathes in the fresh air of the night, allowing the wind to hit his skin and chill the nerves that accumulated inside him. Breathing out a heavy sigh, his shoulders slack off from its rigid posture when they had finally given him his long fought peace.

For a while, Jinwoo spends the time alone, simply admiring the night sky that shone brightly with stars.

"Mind if I occupy this space as well?"

Of course, such peace wouldn't last long. Jinwoo barely holds in a sigh, preparing to leave. He turns around on his heel, but pauses midway.

Your name leaves his lips in a soft whisper. His eyes widen ever so slightly, a bit of shine returning once h's reunited with you.

"Hey, Jinwoo, right?"

He swallows thickly, closing his parted lips. Shifting to the side, he allows room for you to stand beside him. You quickly accepted the wordless offer, hands circling around the railing when you got close enough.

You take in a breath of fresh air, a smile curving up as you feel the wind dance around your hair. The stars hung up on the sky had made for a good view. Dozens of them were scattered about, decorating the inky black sky with its light. The moon, above all, shone down its soothing light upon the earth, illuminating the sky with the brightest light.

"It's been a long time," you say. Your eyes remained fixated to the sky. "Would you be willing to entertain a conversation? Or would you prefer the company of silence instead?"

His breath hitched. "How have you been?" His voice graced your presence, allowing his question to serve as his answer.

Your eyes crinkle, amused. "Well, I just recently got promoted so now I'm busier than ever." You sighed, thinking of the drastically increasing paperwork you had to deal with.

"That sounds great yet also exhausting." He chuckles softly, sparing a glance in your direction.

"Really, it is." You shake your head. "But I doubt it's as exhausting as your life now."

"Mine?"

"Right, yours." You tilt your head to the side to face him. "After all, not everyone reawakens and gets ranked the ever glorious S-rank status. I've seen you on the news several times, you know?"

Jinwoo again chuckles, this time more awkwardly than the previous.

"It's not that..." He trailed off, unsure of what words to use to deflect. He couldn't say it wasn't impressive, not when S-ranks were far and few in between, no.

You giggle, seemingly catching onto his intentions. "Impressive? I beg to differ."

Jinwoo clears his throat, keeping his gaze transfixed on the scenery in front of him. His heart however, grew weaker and weaker as he stood by your side. A part of him longed to gawk at your reflection, admire every change brought by the years to you.

In the end, he gave in to the small part that yearned to see you. His gaze flits to where you stood beside him.

You've grown, it was a thought that really settled on his mind. Much like how he had changed, you had also undergone different changes which resulted in the you he was seeing now. Your features matured, sharpened enough to drill in the fact that, you were, in fact, a working adult now. Though exhaustion drapes over you like a blanket around your shoulders, your smile contained the whimsicality you once adorned during your highschool years, keeping that innocence somewhat intact despite all the cards you've been dealt with.

A part of him still admitted to the fact that he found you charming. Then again, he always did, even back then. It started out as a simple puppy crush, his gaze lingered in your direction, and you allowed him to stand beside you as a friend during those years. He faintly remembers planning to confess, only to halt it when he learned that you were planning to leave the country to pursue a higher rate of education.

It's been years since then, and he would've thought he'd already moved on from you. In the end, he never did get over you or your charming laugh.

"When did you return?"

"A little over 2 years by now."

"And I wasn't informed?" He quirks up a brow, a teasing smile playing on his lips.

"I did inform you! I messaged you several times! Just on a new number since I had to get one after flying back here."

"You did?" He blinked, recalling the messages he received during that time frame. Sure enough, he remembers blocking a number who consistently pestered him, thinking it was a scammer trying to cheat him. "Ah, you did."

"I did. You even blocked me." You replied without skipping a beat, glaring at him in contempt.

"My bad, I thought it was a scammer."

You huffed, shaking your head. "Huh, figured."

Sweat drips down Jinwoo's head. He didn't mean to block you, but the constant ringing gave him the tell-tale signs of a scammer and made him misunderstand.

The conversation resumed, flowing easily from there on out. Surprisingly enough, despite having expected wanting solitude, he ended up not minding your presence at all, enjoyed it even. Topics came as easily as they went, moving on from one to another without much commitment.

Jinwoo finds himself relaxing in your presence. All the prior awkwardness he felt dissipating the longer he stayed in your presence. His demeanor gradually softened, becoming more and more open with his thoughts and emotions.

With such vulnerability came the inevitable repeat of history.

Under the starry night that laid witness to your quiet reunion, Jinwoo's heart swayed—for a bit. Only for a bit. he excused it as the lingering feelings of a school crush and nothing more, really, nothing more.

He's gotten past that phase now, erased every bit of him that existed during those happy times.

Once you've both said your piece, wished best for each other and more, a comfortable silence wrapped around you both. It wasn't one that demanded someone to speak to get rid of it, but moreover a time spent in the presence of someone close to recharge. Needlessly, without speaking, your friendship mended itself throughout the course.

Again, he finds his gaze naturally gravitating towards you once more. No, it's not that he still had lingering feelings, it's moreso out of curiosity. He still has a hard time believing that time really has flown, he reasons to nobody but himself.

He parts his lips slightly, surprised when he finds you staring back at him as well. You seemed equally in shock, cheeks warming up slightly as your brows quirked up, then furrowed at the sudden attention.

You avert your gaze, seemingly flustered. He in turn, feels his heart racing slightly faster as well. Contrary to you, his eyes remained on you despite your panicking shenanigans, not minding the fact that he was also caught right before he even got the chance to allow a glance at your visage without your knowledge.

Eventually, fortunately, you stopped panicking and slowed down to just a fiddle of your fingers. Resting them against the railings, your eyes slowly meet his once more.

Then, what happened—what nearly happened—next had his breath hitching. Perhaps it was the alcohol getting in his system(he can't get drunk, but he wants to find a reason), but he leaned ever so slightly towards your direction. You follow, lost in the very same magic he fell victim to.

Perhaps it was the night sky that accentuated your features better than anything else.

Perhaps it was his feelings just going rampant after being bottled for so long without proper closure.

He looks at your lips, taking a quick glance before shifting upwards. Ah, you're already closing your eyes.

His heart picks up the pace, beating faster and faster than the last. Ignoring the loud thrumming he pushes in on the distance. He could feel your breath fanning over his skin, could feel you tipping over to seal the distance.

Casting one last glance, he seals the dis—

[Hidden Quest unlocked!]

[Quest: Romance the capture target: [Name]

          Rewards: 10000 exp

Weapon: Lovey dovey-kyun! [S-rank]

              Skill: Love is the greatest superpower! | Knight in shining armor

Accept?

Yes/No]

He pauses. The quest had appeared directly over your face, blocking you from him entirely.

Along with the quest box, came his sense of reason. Blinking once, blinking twice, he immediately jumps away, the tips of his ears turning red. He must have gone insane, almost kissing a girl he had only seen again today.

"S-sorry," he stammers, breaking out of character. "I seem to have gotten a bit tipsy. Alcohol sure is scary." He lies through the grit of his teeth.

You snap out of it as well. Opening your eyes, you look up, look down, and then away. You take a step back away from him as well, retrieving the distance the both of you had closed without even realizing.

"Ah, yes! I think so as well." You fan yourself with your hand, an awkward chuckle escaping you. "Alcohol sure is scary."

He nods, a hand rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. A tense silence overtakes the both of you. Unlike the comfortable one you shared with him just moments ago, this one was uncomfortable, daring you to speak just to prevent this quiet. But what? What would be a great thing to say in this situation?

"Wooh, it sure is getting hot here, isn't it?"

Jinwoo flinches, but eagerly agrees with your comment. "Indeed, climate change is starting to be really felt."

Global warming? Mana stones helped solve that problem a few years ago, dang it! No better excuse than this?

You don't notice the idiocy of his reply, nodding eagerly without a second thought just to salvage the situation.

Jinwoo clears his throat, grey hues subtly looking at you. Again, he's met with the blue screen of his system.

[Quest: Romance the capture target: [Name]

          Rewards: 10000 exp

Weapon: Lovey dovey-kyun! [S-rank]

              Skill: Love is the greatest superpower! | Knight in shining armor

Accept?

Yes/No]

He narrows his eyes. Scrutinizing the quest, he has the urge to punch it despite knowing it would simply phase through. What kind of ridiculous quest was this? In the first place, the names are so cringy, he thinks. He would rather be caught dead than caught using such lousy sounding skills. The weapon itself was questionable too, lovey dovey-kyun? Really now? That was just another level of cringe entirely!

And, really, romance? Make them fall in love with him? They can't be serious. Jinwoo saw them as a friend, nothing more, nothing less. The crush he had on them was gone, gone he insists!

What were they getting at?

He huffs, verbalizing the word no. 'No I do not want to reject this quest just yet, I'm still thinking. Do not count this as my answer'

He stopped himself midway.

On second thought, yes.

[Quest: Romance the capture target: [Name]

          Rewards: 10000 exp

Weapon: Lovey dovey-kyun! [S-rank]

              Skill: Love is the greatest superpower!

                         Knight in shining armor

Accept?

Yes]

[Loading quest]

[Quest accepted!]

[Quest: Romance the capture target: [Name]

Duration: ???

Current status: Lvl 1. Acquaintance

Affection meter: 5%

Feeling: (Locked. Reach affection lvl 3 to activate) ]

His Adam apple bobs as he gulps down the saliva that balled up in his throat. The quest was the real deal. If he looked up, he could see the status window appearing on top of your head. Written in bold letters was your name, and below was the affection meter.

No, he didn't accept it because he still likes you, no, that's not his style. He's just curious about the rewards. That's it. That's all.

"Say," he calls your name, beckoning you to look over at him. "I feel guilty about unintentionally locking you out of my life by blocking your number." He's quick to get to work, as always. If it meant for a chance to get stronger, indeed, this was definitely done to get stronger.

Drumming his fingers against the railing, he reigns in the urge to shadow step once and for all and run away. How funny, this would be the first time he ever ran away from a situation if he did.

"As apology, can I take you out for coffee one of these days? I'd like to talk more in a less louder place."

You stopped breathing, you worried your heart did too. Luckily for you, all it did was do a flip and skeap a beat. You still lived, it seems.

"Huh? Oh, ah, sure! I'm free anytime." You sputter out a reply.

"Great, please look forward to it, then."

He flashes you a small smile, he hopes you don't notice just how red his ears became. "Then, I have some other business to attend to so I have to go."

"Huh? But wait, I still haven't given you—" he falls seamlessly below his shadow and sinks into it wholely before you even finish. "My number yet..."

Your voice dies down when you find yourself all alone on the balcony, Jinwoo's presence erased without a single hint of the fact that he was here at all but your memory. Wind gushes past you as he disappears beneath the shadows, ending up in who knows where.

"Ah, he's gone." You murmur, dazed and awe-struck.

"Ah wait, his offer—wasn't that practically a—a date?!"

Before you could panic over the fact, the sight of a humanoid knight like shadow took his place in front of you.

...

Jinwoo appears on top of a rooftop. Whose house was it? He doesn't know. Too caught up in simply wanting to get away, he didn't notice the location or which shadow he exchanged with.

'Ah, crap, he forgot to ask for your number.'

He realizes with a start. Rubbing his hair and mussing it up, he clicks a tongue in annoyance. How was he to contact you now?

He sits down, finally rid of the need to act calm and rational when he was anything but. Sighing, he rests his weight on both hands whilst he leans back.

Calling forth his status window, he curiously scans the window showcasing your information once more.

[Quest: Romance the capture target: [Name]

Duration: ???

Current status: Lvl 1. Acquaintance

Affection meter: 7%

Feeling: (Locked. Reach affection lvl 3 to activate) ]

Jinwoo quickly notices the change. Though he had only seen the status window shortly once, he knew for sure it was only 5% before. Seeing it rise to 2 percent, Jinwoo couldn't help but let out the faintest smile.

He sighs, closing off the window. What ridiculous quest, happening at such a bad time too.

If it just appeared a few seconds later, then perhaps he would've gotten the chance to—no. He doesn't see you that way, not anymore.

No, he's moved on. Really, he's really moved on.

He covers the lower half of his face with the back of his head. Brows furrowed and lips forming a small frown, he refused to acknowledge the fact that his cheeks were reddening at the thought.

"Their lips seemed soft..."

His bites his lips, his thoughts which constantly replayed the memory of you betraying his attempts at reigning in this little puppy love that came back tenfold.

This is all because of the goddamn system.

Tags: @daiyanomochi

[bullet-prooflove]

Masochist: Jack Abbott x Reader (The Pitt)

Tagging: @kmc1989 @cosmic-psychickitty

Jack’s not suicidal, not really.

It may look like that when he’s standing on the edge of the building staring down at the sidewalk but the truth is he’s just trying to get himself to feel something. Anything.

Fear, anger, joy.

He’d welcome any of them after a night in The Pitt. He’s worked hard to compartmentalise, to shut down his emotions so he can do the gruelling shit that needs to be done. The problem with that is regulation because turning them back on…

Well, he hasn’t figured that part out yet.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” He curses as a sharp pinch on his ass stabs through the numbness. He turns to see you standing there on the opposite side of the guard rail ready to do it again before he slaps your hand away.

“I’m good! I’m good!” He snaps at you, climbing back over to the safe side of the railing.

“You are now.” You say with a smirk that should piss him off, instead it lightens him because you’ve just brought him back from the brink. Again.

A little snap of pain like that, it’s enough to jumpstart his synapses, get him functioning. He used to do it himself with a rubber band but then he got used to it. Now you surprise him with it, a little pinch on his ass whenever he loses himself to the grind.

He’s a masochist at heart, he told you when you first met. He hasn’t disproven it yet.

“If you weren’t so fucking beautiful…” He mutters, his arm wrapping around your waist he draws you to him. The scent of your perfume floods his system, something light and floral, reminding him of the first bursts of daffodils in the spring. He buries his face into the curve of your throat, drinking it in as he holds you close, savouring the softness of your curves. “Tell me you’re getting off shift so I can take you home and fuck you in our bed.”

This is the other thing that happens when you pinch him, that surge of adrenaline, it gets him hard, makes him wanting and after twelve hours in this hell hole, he’s very wanting.

“Two more hours.” You tell him and he huffs against your throat in displeasure. Your hand winds through his hair, grasping at the roots, tugging as you tilt his head back to meet your gaze. He hisses at the sensation, every single nerve ending in his body lighting up like the Fourth of July. He wasn’t kidding about the masochist thing, he’s always needed a little pain to get him off. “Go home, take a shower and be in bed by the time I get back. I’ll ravage you then.”

“Christ.” He whines, his hands squeezing your hips as you release your grip on his hair. “Why will you never let me fuck you on the roof?”

The sound of helicopter blades sounds in the distance and you both glance up to see the red and white chopper making it’s way towards the helipad you’re standing on.

“That.” You say, pointing at the rescue vehicle. “That is why I don’t let you fuck me on the roof.”

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[v6quewrlds]

imagine joe coming home to your baby.

author's note⠀⁎⠀the vibes are so sinister on here so here's some fluff. part two to this blurb that y'all screamed at me for.

The click of the garage door echoed through the quiet house as Joe's car pulled in. She looked up from her book, the dim light of the bedside lamp casting shadows on her face. She glanced at the clock on the bedside table; surprised to see that it was already past midnight. The Bengals' first road game had gone late into the night, and Joe had texted her that the team plane was delayed.

Her heart fluttered as she heard his key in the lock and the gentle thud of the door closing. She set the book aside and sat up, her eyes searching the darkness for a glimpse of him. Joe appeared in the doorway, his broad frame outlined by the moonlight spilling through the window. He looked tired but there was a softness in his eyes that spoke volumes about his relief to be home. She couldn't help but smile at the sight of him, his backpack slung over his shoulder, the scent of his shower gel still lingering faintly in the air around him.

"Hey, babe," he murmured, his voice thick with exhaustion.

"Welcome home," she answered back, her voice low and warm.

Joe dropped his bag and shuffled over to the bed, his movements slow and deliberate. He leaned in to kiss her, the tips of his fingers tracing the curve of her cheek. "Did she go down easy?" he asked, nodding towards the baby monitor.

She nodded, her smile pulling at the corners of her lips. "Yeah, I could tell she missed you though. She was glued to the TV, bouncing around in her jumper, babbling every time she saw you with your helmet off."

Joe chuckled, the sound warm and comforting in the stillness. "Yeah, my mom sent me a video. How was she with my parents?" The mattress dipped slightly as he sat down, the weight of his weariness seemingly lifting off him. She shifted her position, her arms wrapping around his waist, her chin resting on his shoulder.

"You know she loves them," she said, her voice filled with affection. "They had a blast. She even tolerates being held by other people when you're not around." She kissed his jaw lightly before adding, "But she definitely prefers her daddy."

Joe leaned into her touch, his eyes drifting over to the baby monitor. He could see Amara's chest rise and fall rhythmically, the little angelic face a picture of peace. "I thought we'd be back in time," he said with a sigh. "Wanted to tuck her in, tell her goodnight."

"I know," she soothed, her hand moving to the back of his neck, her fingers gently massaging the tension there. "You can go check on her if you want? Make sure she's okay?"

Joe nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. He turned his head to kiss her once more before standing up and making his way to the nursery. The door creaked open softly, Amara's little face illuminated by the solar system nightlight on top of the dresser. He stepped in, the plush carpet muffling his footsteps. She looked so tiny in her crib, her tiny hands balled into fists, her eyes scrunched shut in a deep sleep. He leaned over the rail, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead. Her skin was warm and soft, and she smelled faintly of baby powder and vanilla.

He lingered for just a minute more, adjusting her purple onesie as gently as he could before turning to leave. She was waiting for him in bed, her eyes closed but her breathing not yet even. He slipped under the covers, pulling her closer into his arms, and whispered, "Goodnight." Her response was a sleepy mumble, her body immediately curling into him.

He wasn't sure when he drifted off, but the sudden shrill of the baby monitor jolted Joe awake. The digital clock on the nightstand read 3:17 AM, a stark red in the darkness. She stirred beside him, mumbling something incoherent. He nudged her gently. "I got it," he whispered, slipping out of bed and into the hallway.

The nursery door was slightly ajar, and the light from the monitor cast a soft glow across the room. Amara's cries grew louder as Joe approached, his heart swelling with a mix of concern and love. He picked her up, her tiny body wriggling in his arms, and sat down in the rocking chair. He cradled her close, her warmth seeping into him, and began to rock back and forth, whispering soothing words into her ear.

"What's going on, pumpkin? Did you have a bad dream?" Joe's voice was low and gentle. He rubbed her back in slow, circular motions, his thumb tracing the line of her spine as he waited for her sobs to subside. Amara's cries grew quieter, turning into hiccups before she sniffled and nuzzled into his chest. He could feel her tiny heart beating against his own, a rhythm that never failed to soothe his own racing thoughts.

"That's better," Joe murmured, kissing the top of her head. He held her close, the rocking chair squeaking softly in the quiet room. Amara's eyes searched his face in the dim light, and he offered her a small smile. "I missed you, princess," he whispered, his voice hoarse from the post-game fatigue. "I'm proud of you for being so good for Mommy. She told me you didn't give her any trouble while I was gone."

She woke to the sound of Joe's hushed speech, her sleep-heavy eyes focusing on the empty space beside her. She glanced at the baby monitor and saw Joe rocking Amara in the nursery. A warmth spread through her chest, watching him in that moment, soothing their baby girl with such tenderness. She slid out of bed and tiptoed down the hallway, the soft glow from the nursery guiding her.

As she approached the nursery, she caught the sound of her daughter babbling softly, and Joe's soothing whispers. She could see his profile in the moonlit room, the love, and dedication etched into the lines of his face as he rubbed Amara's back, pressing soft kisses to her cheeks and forehead between his words. The scene was so intimate, so beautiful, that she almost felt like an intruder, despite it being her own family. She leaned against the door frame, taking in the sight of her husband and daughter, their bond strong in the face of the brief separation.

Amara's eyes grew heavy, and her breathing evened out as she drifted back to sleep in Joe's arms. She stepped forward, watching as Joe carefully set her down and made sure she was snug in her crib. He took a moment, his hand hovering over her tiny chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of her breaths.

[dream-world-universe]

Chongqing Monorail, China: The Chongqing Rail Transit (Branded as CRT) is the rapid transit system in the city of Chongqing, China. In operation since 2005, it serves the transportation needs of the city's main business and entertainment downtown areas and inner suburbs. The Chongqing Rail Transit is a unique transit system in China. Two lines use heavy-monorail technology, leveraging the ability to negotiate steep grades and tight curves and rapid transit capacity. Wikipedia

[cosmique-oddity]

Phew, my last weeks of work are now complete >:)

I loved Dratchet and Ratchlock since the very beginning of my attachment towards Transformers, first TFP Ratchet…..but yeah….two of my favorites character….plus Keferon’s Mech AU…..I had to make my own thing about it.

A story….no…an illustration ! I couldn’t choose. So I did both :}

—————————————————

That was not the first time Ratchet came back to his private lab angry, but this time, yelling at his superiors, and at the system, and basically at evverything that could be yelled at except the pilotd while leaving the manufacture, was certainly the last. He quit. That was enough,

you don’t win a war with feelings they said

well yes,

exactly,

but you win a war with soldier, and frying their mind before they have their first fight because you want them to be more perfectionned ? That was a little counter productive.

So he gave up. They are on their own now.

The lightly humming of his car was barely enough to keep him awake, it have been a long time since he last returned home, usually, he stayed at his work place, to have more time to sleep, but then, he was sleeping even less. An endless vicious circle, things were often like that.

But all of that was over for him.

He granted these young greenhorn with his experience, and what did they do ? Ignored his advices. Sending pilots to death. So now, he had himself out of the infernal machinery. This mindless waste of human life, even where this is what they tried to save was absurd.

In the middle of his quiet and late ride, he heard a noise. Rumbling, was it the engine ? As he stopped the car backroad to check, the noise wasnt stopping. Came from the sky, military patrol ? He raised his two tired eyes on the sky and saw a shining rail approaching his forest, falling fast. Not quintesson shaped, and with the gaze of an experimented biomechanist, Ratchet identified a mech.

At this moment, its violently crashed on the ground, behind the trees at maybe three or four miles away. No matter how hard he argued with the scientist sooner this day or how bad he wanted to say fuck to all of this death industry who killed young soldiers, he could do something for the one trapped inside the mech....maybe.... the man regained his car as fast as possible and urgently headed for the crash area.

Deafened sound of tires on the damaged road. Ratchet was already projecting, mentally stocktaking the tools he took with him, and lucky enough for the poor pilot, he quit with almost all of his material, and even if it was mainly mechs repairing material, he also bought some instruments which were used for the subtle neuromedicine between human and mech. Could adapt some of it and stabilize the pilot....then he may have the time to go home and grab proper materials. If there was life there was hope.

" bold of him to crash himself just the day i insulted all of his hierachy".

He frowned. Almost there.

The trees nearby were crushed and uprooted. A flickering pink light catched his gaze.

Almost immediately, the Ratchet analyzed the mech. It was different. He didnt know in wich country it was made but that almost looks alien. The curves and shapes, busted and burned on several places were demonstrating an incredible display of genius ingeniery he could just admiring. But time was not for being amazed on plating.

Someone was trapped there.

He stopped and parked his car in front of a fallen tree, rushing to the car's trunk, taking few indispensable objets, including some of them to help a safe disconnection between pilot/mech. In case he wasnt out already. And a crowbar, the cockpit might be stuck, seeing all the damages the mech has taken...

The sound of slightly wet grass under his feet was covered by a frenetic noise of aeration. Ratchet listened to it, while cautiously approaching the unknown mech. It almost sounded like a breath, but was certainly a depressurisation issue. The mech had fallen from so high on the sky....

The damaged plating were hot, probably from atmosphere friction. He raised his crowbar and his eyes followed the curves of the chestplates, searching for a familiar shape, that could lead him to the injured pilot inside. His gaze stopped on a deep wound, that might have cut through the cockpit.

The engineer stepped on the hot metal, his thick boots preventing him from feeling the heat, and he started searching for a hint....anything that could be a mechanism, anything that could open this damn mech !

Ratchet considered the damaged chest plate he noticed earlier. The surroundings of the wound were leaking bright pink, a very unusual color for fuel. Another of these definitively strange things about the mech. Again....not the time for that. Maybe if he could widen the gap, then he would be able to have an idea of what was going on under this armor.

He tapped the plate, -it was starting to cool down- with one of his finger. It was a very little tap, but the whole mech startled. A hiss of pain, recognisible easily by an emerite engineer-but-i-fix-people-too, it had come from the head of the mecha. Was this modele controlled from the head, like Vortex ? But Vortex was insanely huge for a mech, way taller than this one. He moved careful, noticing the shaking of his support.

"You hear me, kid ? Its going to be ok. You crashed in a safe area.".

He spoke in his medic tone, wich mean, of course brusque, serious, but also reassuring and calm.

He mumbled about the mech's features and tiny words of comfort while reaching for the head.

A red light, not regular and rather epileptic was coming from the head, and while he was almost there, on all four of his limb to keep balance, Ratchet saw it.

A spectacularly humanoid face, with sculpted nose and lips was tensed in a painful expression, frowning, but the thing who trapped his gaze was the two optics....

....staring back at him.

Mechs dont stare. Their eyes are glowing, oftenly to mimick human face, after all, human are pretty prideful creature, no point in piloting big ass metal titan if no one could tell these where their creation.

What human couldnt mimick with technologie, on the other hand, was the subtle expression between trying to evualuate a threat, his own injuries, and looking rather on the verge of death but also ready to tear any enemy's limb appart with its teeth.

With just one....very long....look at the other's eye, Ratchet was suddenly understanding what was going on.

Well....probably not but he knew what he had to save.

The pilot, the pilot he had to save.

The mech was the pilot.

He was the one he had to save.

He stopped trying to -certainly- open his chest. If it wasnt good for human it probably wasnt for living technology.

The giant technological humanoid seemed in a high distress, exhaling a lot of air from his vents, his eye still intensely staring at him and the engineer doubted his usual technique -including trying to make himself as small as possible- would work.

"Its going to be okay Kid. I can help you. There is nothing here that want to harm you".

He did his best to convey all of these emotions with his facial expression and gaze, still firmly watching back at him.

"the world better wait till im home and officially retired before killing me".

The mech's gaze -damn it was so more living than ANY human made machinery- seemed to soften a bit but still radiated with suspicion.

Deadlock had been in several bad situations. It happened quite a lot when a specie of giant aliens with tendrils tried to invade your homeland, and he was ready to it.

Trained to kill, and to do it efficiently.

And he was *good* at it.

This time was just another of these ‘i went too far in my excitation’ moments, and he has crashed on a random planet he hoped was not inhabited. He landed hard, and pieces of his ship must’ve been thrown near his location.

And now, now there was an organic like no one he ever saw, and the organic was on his *lap* and he had the kindest warmest eyes he ever saw.

And these eyes were directly looking at his own eyes, and the well named ‘Deadlock’ was starting to wonder if he finally had reunited with the Allspark. His pained and tenseful grin faded a little and he tried to move his head forward, searching a better point of view to watch the singularity in front of him.

Ow.

Moving hurt.

Some sound came out of the organic’s mouth, probably a language. He didn’t had the proper tools to decode it but the tone of the language was extremely….comforting ? Soft ?

This was scary.

He wasn’t used to be welcomed like that after a fight.

Usually it was either another fight, either the yelling of a superior, either nothing at all. But this actual living being was carefully examinating his chestplates, and he recognized the gestual of someone who was used to heal. A medic perhaps ?

He tried to move something, maybe a hand, to reach for the pale organic, to be sure he was real, but his body was rather uncooperative, from what he could say, one of his legs was missing, and a lot of wound were releasing energon on the ground he couldn’t saw.

The high probabilities of bleeding out and crash was an issue.

He let his head hang, too tired to watch for every moves of the organic, and barely aware of his environment.

There must be a big problem somewhere….

He confusely thought, while watching the stars.

Must be a bigger injury I haven’t saw……..

Ratchet saw the bright light coming from the alien’s eyes slowly fading, and cold swear ran through his back. Yet, he could still say the soldier was alive, the lights of his body were shining, not a lot, but it was enough. He looked at his first aid kit with disappointment. That wouldn’t be very efficient since the form of life he was trying to preserve wasn’t a tiny human. The nearest thing he could compare the Mech to was….well their own mechs, or eventually….Quintesson. An horrible mess of organic and technology. It was partially thanks to their weird constitution that Ratchet had been able to make sense with the ‘he is alive’ thought.

At this moment and with this material, he couldn’t help the kid, and didn’t possess enough knowledge to tell if he was even dying or not.

He had already an idea of what to do….to fix him, at least trying to, but it involved several objects he hadn’t right now. Leaving to search for these so called objects was risking to let an injured alone, he couldn’t take that risk. He was trapped with the mech, and had to hurry and find something. He stood and reached for more adapted material in his car, trying to find something…. Anything.

Surprisingly, the most useful artifact he came across was his electric screwdriver and a bunch of screw along with a long metallic cabke. A parallel between human stitch, with sewing threads and the material he had with him right now. He could manage something between human fixing and mech repairing, that was what the ‘bio’ in bioengineer stood for.

The kid would be ok. He would live and tell Ratchet why he fell from the sky, and maybe if he saw his friend Jazz….out there…….

.

.

—————————————————

:)) @keferon

(I swear I’m not insane, your AU is just kinda giving me infinite drawing stamina lmao)

[writing-girlie]

Crossing lines

Pairing: James Wilson x Fem! Coworker Reader

Blurb: James chooses you to come along to a conference but a messed up hotel booking leaves you sharing a bed.

WC: 2k

Warnings: Smut, One bed

Note: Not 100% edited so forgive any mistakes

You arrive at the hotel after your flight was delayed by a couple of hours. 

“Booking for Dr. James Wilson, two rooms,” he says, both of you ready for a smooth check-in. The receptionist tilts her head, a look of hesitation crossing her face as she types.

“Just one moment, please,” Her fingers continue to quickly move over the keyboard. “I’m sorry, sir, but there’s only one room available.”

James frowns, his voice tinged with frustration. “But I booked two rooms. I double and triple-checked that.”

“I understand,” she replies, still apologetic. “The system says the same thing but we must have overbooked because a guest checked into one of those rooms this morning. And unfortunately all other rooms are booked.”

“It’s fine,” he says, his voice calm, he couldn't be bothered arguing or changing hotels. “You okay with it?”

You shrug, trying to make light of the situation. “Sure. It’s just a bed.” You follow him to the room, and despite the inconvenience, the suite is stunning. Floor to ceiling windows stretch across the far wall, revealing a view of the city and the river below. Along with a balcony has two chairs perfectly placed to take it all in. 

The bathroom is as luxurious as the rest of the room, with marble countertops and soft lighting. The shower is large, like enough for two people with extra room, large, enclosed by glass.

“You can go first” you nod towards the bathroom. 

“Thanks,” he says softly, sliding the door closed. You step out onto the balcony, The cool evening breeze greets you as you step outside. You lean against the railing, taking in the view. For a few moments, you lose yourself in the beauty of the cityscape. 

You hear the door open, you glance back toward the room. He steps out, looking much more relaxed in a pair of grey sweatpants and a white T-shirt, his hair slightly damp from the shower.

You turn your attention back to the view for a moment, before heading inside and into the bathroom. The faint scent of his aftershave lingers in the air, mixing with the warmth of the room. You don't take too long before changing into your pj's. The shirt is flimsy and the shorts are shorter than you'd usually wear but you didn’t expect anyone to see them.

When you step out of the bathroom, James is sitting on the edge of the bed, scrolling through his phone. He looks up, his eyes flicker downward, and then back to your face.

You linger by the door for a moment before walking around to the other side of the bed and sliding under the covers. You were tired from working through the day, and then waiting around at the airport. Tomorrow was going to be an early start so you decided to just settle for the night. After a while James also gets in. The bed is more than big enough, but the space still feels strangely small. 

“Goodnight,” He says with a yawn. You turn your head slightly toward him, catching the faint outline of his face in the dim light. “Goodnight” you whisper back.

You stared up at the ceiling for a while, quietly pretending you weren’t both hyper-aware of the other’s breathing. Or the way the bed shifted with every movement.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You begin to wake due to the streams of soft light that pour through the cracks of the curtains. They softly bump into each other, as you had left the balcony door open a little for fresh air. You can feel the coolness hit your face only then do you realise how cozy the rest of you feels. 

You realise the arm around your waist. 

His palm rests against your stomach, fingers relaxed just under the hem of your shirt, where it had ridden up.

You feel the soft rise and fall of his chest, pressed to your back. His breath on your shoulder. One of his knees is tucked behind yours, his body curved perfectly into yours. 

Apart from soft breathing you don't move an inch. Not from fear, you're just not sure you want this to be over. Last night, you both made a point of keeping to your sides of the bed, and sometime during the night, that boundary disappeared.

As if he had sensed that you were awake he woke up, also taking a moment before he came to.

“Shit- Sorry” his voice is lower than normal. 

“Don't be, it's actually... it’s kind of nice.” That's enough that he doesn't move his arm away. 

“Nice?” He repeats, a little surprised. You nod although not facing him.. 

“Yeah. You’re warm. It’s comfortable.” You wait a beat before turning in his arms, slowly rolling to face him. There’s a moment of rustling sheets and shifting limbs. You meet his eyes for the first time and they look softer than you've ever seen them. 

“Hi” you say, barely above a whisper.

“Hi” He echoes, a faint smile on his lips. 

“You were talking in your sleep” 

His brow lifts, just a little. “Was I?”

You nod. “Something about your suitcase getting lost. You sounded very stressed.”

“That's embarrassing," he mutters, his voice muffled by your skin.

You laugh, soft and breathless. “It was kind of cute, actually.” He lifts his head enough to look at you, one brow raised skeptically.

“Cute? Me panicking over lost luggage is cute to you?”

“You sounded so serious about it.” biting back another laugh.

“If I'd known you thought I was cute, I might’ve skipped the whole ‘stay on your side of the bed’ thing.”

“Oh, so you admit it. You wanted to cross the line.” You raise your eyebrows.

He shrugs slightly. “I wasn't gonna stop it if it happened”

Before either of you can say anything else, a shrill alarm cuts the silence, buzzing insistently on your nightstand. You both flinch a little. 

James groans quietly and lets his arm slip away from your waist, rolling onto his back.

“Guess that’s our cue,” he mutters, scrubbing a hand over his face.

“The conference waits for no one.”You sigh, reaching to silence the alarm. 

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You and James sit across from each other at one of the slim white tables. The morning slips; a haze of lectures and polite applause. You stayed close during the lunch break, talking to people James had previously crossed paths with. You can feel an ache building in your feet, like the shoes are a size too small.

When you find your seats again you slip your heels off and stretch your legs out, deciding to rest your feet onto his lap, crossing one over the other. 

James glances down, then at you, eyebrows raised slightly. You pout at him. 

"My feet hurt."

He shakes his head before his hand finds your ankle, his thumb drags slowly along the bone.

The afternoon drags on, and when the final speaker wraps up, a low murmur of relief rolls through the crowd. You slip your feet off his lap and back into your shoes and place your bag on the table. Without hesitation James reaches over and grabs the bag. 

"You don't have to"

He gives you a look, one brow raised. "Humour me” You don't argue with him, and you leave the conference pretty quickly. Your hand brushes against his while you walk back to the hotel. The sidewalk is cracked and uneven, and you lose balance momentarily. Before you can stumble forward, James grabs your forearm, steadying you.

"Falling for me already, huh?"

"You wish." You shake your head, biting back a grin. 

When you get to the room the door shuts with a soft click. The tension sits heavy between the two of you, a complete 180 from the night before. You don’t spare him a glance as you put your stuff away, afraid you might say or do something you’ll later regret. But James doesn’t think that way, He knows what he wants and isn’t afraid to try. 

You turn to head for the bathroom, maybe to pretend you're busy, maybe just to breathe but James stops you. His hand wraps around your wrist, you look down at the contact. 

"Look at me" he says, voice low. You do and instantly regret it, because there's no room to hide in his eyes.

“James...” Your breath catches in your throat.

“I just want to know if you feel it too.” You nod. His gaze flickers down to your lips for a moment, and then back to your eyes, searching, asking for permission. Without a word you lean forward just enough that he can’t mistake your intent. His hand slides from your wrist to the small of your back, pulling you toward him as he closes the gap between you. His lips find yours in an instant, soft at first, like he’s testing the waters.

The kiss quickly grows more urgent, the need between you both undeniable. His hands come up to cradle your face and yours find his shirt, curling it in your fingers to ground yourself. Your head spins as his lips move to your neck, kissing and biting, marking you with an urgency that makes your pulse spike.

He guides you until your legs hit the bed, and you slowly fall back against the sheets with him following, never breaking contact. You work on getting his tie and shirt off and he removes yours, pulling it over your head. You get your bra off while he works on his pants, it’s rushed, neither of you wanting to wait a second more.

“You have no idea what you do to me,” he murmurs against your skin, kissing along your neck again.

“Then show me.” That was all he needed to hear, he yanks your skirt down and just hooks his finger around your panties, moving them aside before pushing himself in, slowly. He starts to move; slow, deep, every shift of his hips deliberate. One of his hands roams all over your body, like he wants no part of you untouched.

“Give me your hands” he breathes out, next to your ear. You raise your hands above your head crossed over the other and his roaming hand comes up and engulfs your wrists. “Good Girl” He kisses the corner of your lips, you pucker, wanting a proper one, which he happily gives. You moan into his mouth. 

"James..." you whimper into the kiss, your voice a mix of plea and desire. He responds with a low growl, his hips moving with more urgency, each thrust deeper and more intense than the last.

"You're so beautiful like this," he murmurs, his voice rough with emotion. "Completely mine." You nod.

“Yours” You arch your back and he keeps his pace but thrusts harder, a surprised gasp leaving your lips. “Fuck, I love you James. Feels so good.”

“Yeah? Love you too, the first day I saw you. God! Knew you were prettiest girl ever” His words sent warmth through you. He was fucking you so good and the sincerity of his words felt so real, the way he looked at you with those soft, brown eyes made you crumble. You would believe every word he said without hesitation. His pace begins to become messier and you squirm underneath him.

“Please, I'm gonna cum. Need to, please.” You softly beg. He responds with a deep, possessive growl, his grip on your wrists tightening.

"Let go, baby," he murmurs, his voice a low rumble against your ear. "Let go with me." Waves of pleasure wash over you, leaving you breathless. He continues to grind against you as you come down, your legs shake slightly.

You stretch your head up to kiss him. He doesn’t move, just rests his body weight on you, your bodies entwined in a tangle of limbs and sheets. He releases your wrists, his hands gently cupping your face as he kisses you softly, tenderly.

"I meant it by the way, I love you,"

"I love you too, James.” 

As you both lie there, breathless and entwined, you can't help but smile at the thought that crosses your mind. He looks at you skeptically.

“I think we should test if that shower is still comfortable with two people”

He doesn't need any convincing. With a swift movement, he scoops you up into his arms, making you giggle in surprise as he carries you to the bathroom.

[blood-smiles]

Hii !! Can I request for alejandro or yuuto getting cuteness agression towards reader who has chubby cheeks??

coming right up!!! ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ່࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊ࠢ࠘𐡏 ♡ BOTH OF THEM UNDER THE CUT!!

.

.

Alejandro (Yandere! Lawyer)

It was unlike Alejandro to get riled up over such small things. Surely if his parents saw him like this they would shake their head in deep shame of their oldest son. He sat on the couch next to you, observing you like a hawk while you were peacefully watching television. You didn’t even care to look his way right now, like you hadn’t even noticed him eyeing you like a famished beast.

His eyes almost sparkled while looking at you, lost in the hot warmth in his chest. He just thought you looked so happy and strangely biteable, all bundled up in some covers he had carefully gathered around you. 

He bit his knuckle in a meager attempt to hold back. He didn’t want to move you in the slightest, you seemed so comfy and cute right now. He just wanted to preserve this moment in his mental gallery full of photos of you.

Alejandro admired the curve of your cheeks, the fullness of them and the endearing natural flush they had to them. He could just jump on you—

“Do I have something on my face?” You adorably asked, well, really anything you did in this state to him was cute. 

He lunged like his life depended on it, his arms trapping you against his chest, his nails lightly biting into your cheeks.

He pinched your cheeks like an old relative would, the tender touch stinging a bit. You whined, pulling away from his touch. 

He didn’t even speak to you, he stared into your eyes with his own deep ones. He squished your face once, then again, then a third time.

You blinked in confusion. What was this about? 

“You are so cute.” He announced with the seriousness he spoke with in court. 

One of his hands drifted lower, coiling around your shoulder before pulling you into his inescapable grip.

His cold hand held your warm face, he was looking at you like some encrypted document. Then a scary smile bloomed on his lips, your face dropped.

This was a strange feeling, he wanted to squeeze you, to bite you—love you so bad. The dangerous urge began taking over him, his jaw clenched tightly.

He pushed you against the armrest of your couch, your own sheets meant to keep you warm becoming a trap at Alejandro’s hands. They tightened around you as he straddled you, biting your face gently before pressing messy kisses to your skin again.

You giggled while thrashing underneath him, like this was some unhinged game of his.

“I want to squeeze you so hard you pop.” He muttered, you gave him a weird look.

“I won’t.” He chuckled, sinking his teeth into your cheeks again, forcing a sound of reluctance from you. 

“—But I want to.” He whispered in your ear, you wailed in protest under him as he waged a cuddle war against you.

Yuuto (Yandere! Nurse)

You coughed, you had gotten sick again, while in a hospital of all places. Your immune system definitely had a vendetta against you.

Your faithful nurse sat right next to you in your hospital bed, one of the side rails lowered so that he could take care of you freely, or so he said.

He really didn’t have to treat you like a baby though, you watched unamused how he ‘here comes the airplain!’—ed you. You were sick, but not sick enough to not be able to feed yourself.

You pouted at him, refusing to put up with more of his tomfoolery. Yuuto sighed, putting the soup aside for a moment to admire you in all your upset glory.

His hands grabbed your face in a flash of movement, his long fingers almost encasing your whole face. His eyes almost glittered as he stared with adoration.

“You look so cuuuute!~”

His fingers prodded at your flushed, slightly sweaty cheeks. He let out a little squeal of delight as he mushed your face together.

“Can yuu shtop?” You struggled to speak, he gave you a look that immediately made you shut up.

“Never!” He said, appalled at your question. You hadn’t noticed but he was basically sitting on your lap now. His hands hovered over your face, making claw gestures with his hands.

He hugged you so tight you thought that one of your organs would rupture. Your nose was basically pressed against his neck, the sweet scent of vanilla wafting from his clothes.

“I just want to eat.” He kissed your forehead, hands under your jaw, forcing you to look at him. “You.” Even more rough kiss. “UP!” He licked you.

You jolted at the wet sensation of his tongue dragging up your sweaty cheek. You didn’t even know how to react.

“I wuv youuuu~” he dragged out his words, pressing his head against yours, patting the tip of your head as if you’re a little kitten.

He attacked your neck next, making you laugh uncontrollably as he hit sensitive spots along your nape.

“Stoooop!!” You cry-laughed, trying to squirm away from him and his sloppy attacks.

“No~ You’re MINE!” He almost snarled, biting your jaw playfully, he didn’t even care about you being sick. For all you knew he was next.

He put all his weight on you, finally seeming to calm down from his peculiar outburst. Inhaling your bedsick scent, he smiled into your pajamas, enjoying your familiar, comforting smell.

“You’re so adorable I want to rip off your skin with my teeth.” He murmured tenderly, his fingers curling into your clothes, pulling you into him.

You looked at him wrong, raising a dubious eyebrow.

“I’m just joking, silly!” He booped your nose, laughing like he had just told a little funny story. You didn’t stop grimacing, what a pariah.

[ds-angel1]

cw: vaginal sex, fear play, dubcon, choking, crying, near-death experience during sex, lots of mentions of dying, cocaine use, blood and bruises, lowkey angst at the end

🪷🪷🪷

Nothings Gonna Hurt You Baby

1:05 ──〇──── 4:46

⇄ ◃◃ ⅠⅠ ▹▹↻

You dangled over the balcony railing, your back arched in a brutal curve, toes barely brushing the cold floor beneath you. You weren’t even sure if your eyes were open anymore, vision blurred, brain stuttering between blank terror and dizzy confusion.

The only thing grounding you was the hand cinched tight around your throat and the knowledge that a mere twitch from your boyfriend could send you plummeting the twenty meters to the pavement below.

Tears streamed down your cheeks, leaving hot, stinging trails as you clung to the slick metal rail, your body trembling with every rough thrust that jolted you forward. Each ragged sob tore from your chest and blended into Rafe’s low, venomous muttering.

"Gotta learn your fucking lesson."

"Mouthin' off all goddamn day."

"Such a fucking brat."

His voice was a growl against your ear, the words punctuated by the brutal snap of his hips. Every time he slammed into you, the railing creaked ominously, and your body lurched further over the edge, the only thing saving you was his bruising grip on your hip and throat.

You tried, god, you tried, to lift your head, to find your voice, to beg him to stop, to plead for mercy. But every time, the weight of it all, the fear, the lack of air, the overload of sensation, crushed you back down.

Your head lolled against the railing, your tear-blurred gaze locking on the neon-lit windows of the hotel across the street as if salvation could be found there, in the mundane glow of someone else’s normal night.

Rafe's mind raced out of control, a thousand thoughts crashing into each other, none of them coherent. The coke he’d snorted earlier had left him wild-eyed and volatile, adrenaline flooding his system faster than the engines of the racecars he pretended to care about.

His grip tightened again, nails biting into your skin, and all you could do was hold onto the railing, onto your breath, onto the thin, fraying thread of your life.

His mind flickered with vicious snapshots, your tear-soaked face twisted in terror, your throat crushed beneath the iron clamp of his hand, your desperate, clenching heat trying uselessly to expel him. But he only drove himself back in, harder, rougher, savoring the way you broke around him.

He knew he was playing with fire, that this hunger was something vile and unforgivable, but fuck, he thrived on it. The control he had. The power. He loved you like this, helpless, broken, his, loved the way your life dangled between his hands, how you trusted him even now, how your body still sought his even through terror.

The orgasm hit him without warning, a brutal punch of pleasure that tore a ragged groan from his chest. His body seized against yours as he spilled into you, his fingers digging harder into your skin as he could somehow hold you in place, anchor you to him forever.

For a terrible second, he lost himself entirely, and when he came back, blinking through the high, he realized you were gasping for air, your hands clawing weakly at his wrist.

"Fuck."

"Baby— fuck— hold on—"

He forced his trembling fingers to move, shifting his hand from your throat to the back of your neck with as much care as his shaking body could manage. Slowly, agonizingly, he hauled you back over the railing, your limp form sliding into his arms. The moment your feet hit the ground, you collapsed, clutching at his legs with frantic, broken sobs that shredded through the night air.

"Got you, baby. Got you. I got you," he muttered over and over again, the words a frantic prayer against your hair.

Somehow, through the chaos still roaring in his veins, he got you inside. He noticed the blood in passing, the way your knees were raw and scraped from where you’d kicked and scrambled against the unforgiving concrete, the torn, reddened skin along your inner thighs from the brutal stretch of him forcing his way in too fast, too rough.

Dark half-moons bruised your throat where his fingers had dug in, crushing delicate vessels just beneath the skin. But none of it stirred horror in him. Not guilt. Not regret.

Only a strange, sharp affection, a possessive tenderness curling in his chest. Each mark was proof: of how hard you fought, of how completely he had won. You were his, through and through, inside and out, body and soul, whether you wanted it or not.

He bathed you with trembling hands, wiping the blood and tears away with shaking gentleness, dressing you in your pajamas like you were something fragile, sacred. His heart ached with a love so fierce it felt like it might kill him.

He carried you to bed, tucking you against him, wrapping his body around yours as if he could shield you from the very damage he'd inflicted. You pressed into him instinctively, needing warmth, needing safety, even though safety had long since slipped away.

All night, you cried against his chest, your voice breaking into hoarse, incoherent babble about how scared you’d been, how you thought you were going to die.

And all night, Rafe whispered into your hair, soft, desperate apologies, trembling promises that he'd never let you fall, that he'd never let anything hurt you. As if he wasn´t the one who hurt you.

And somehow, you believed him. Because when he held you like this, shaking, frantic, broken, it was almost possible to believe that this was love.

Almost.

[awakittie]

Wait for Me

warnings. angst (??), maybe ooc , mental health , allusions to schizophrenia if you squint

pairing. jinx / fem ! reader

wc. 940

you’d been out all day, leeching off of vendors and their food. even scraps were accepted at this point, anything to fill the ever-growing void in your stomach.

life in the undercity had always been a challenge, especially for a lower class like you. you’d had to fend for yourself since an early age, having never known your parents.

you don’t remember their faces — out of sight out of mind.

the oppression zaun has faced against piltover is something that has lasted for decades, for centuries. it’s something that only grows worse as time goes on, zaun withers away with it as piltover blossoms.

how are you suppose to remember someone you never got the chance to know?

it’s late when you get back, ducking and weaving through the small system you’d helped map out all those years ago. it’s subconscious at this point in time, and you soon find yourself in the dim cave opening once again.

the only signs of life are the dim fairy lights criss-crossed over the sky-rafts decking, casting pink and purple hues over the railings with the faint hum of some incoherent rock band in the distance.

no sign of-

“Jinx?” it bounces off the walls and right back at you. you strain to listen, but you can’t hear anything.

odd.

usually you hear her before you see her, before you see the long bolted braids swinging in your direction, the gleeful smile that greets your arrival. the sparkle in her eyes that tells you she’d waited all day for you.

you know this is unusual, she’d been acting off before you’d even left earlier. typically, jinx always wants to tag along — she’s the type of thorn in your side you can seemingly never get rid of, stuck by the hip.

so when she said she’d stay back today, you couldn’t deny the pang in your stomach that something was off. anything.

you pressed and pressed but she never yielded. kept up a strong facade, and told you with an exaggerated nod of her head that she was ‘a-okay!’.

with a newfound purpose; find jinx, you carefully set your new ‘belongings’ down on a lone box, doted on with doodles and incoherent scribbles.

you look in all of her usual spots, crossing over the groaning propellers to the centre spot where she does her work. her work is here, half-built bombs and guns strewn about the blue mapping with purpose.

you can tell she worked on these, some being further in their progress than before you left today. you feel your shoulders slump.

so where is she?

“where could you be?” you hum to yourself, stepping down from the platform and off to the drawn curtains of her make-shift tent.

you see her braids before her; their blue a vibrant contrast to the greys and blacks of the surface they’re rested on.

you feel the sour bile in your throat dwindle, and the corners of your lips quirk up.

pulling back the curtains, you’re face to face with her body, strewn over the pile of multicoloured beanbags she’d accumulated over the years. she’s idly curled around a blanket you’d crocheted for her a while back.

it’s one of the only comforts she has in her life, at least you can assume, as it’s something she clings to like it’s her lifeline. she often drags it everywhere with her through the shared space.

if she’s working on her gadgets? thrown over her shoulders. she’s sat crossed legged eating whatever you’d brought back that day? laid down over her lap. sleeping? curled around the blues and pinks of her fingers, bunched up just over her curved knees.

which is where you find her now, only thing on your mind now is how she’d never slept before without you here. it’s something she’d never felt comfortable with doing, said she’s ‘scared they’ll get to her’ without you here, that ‘they’ll take me with them’.

you’d opted to sitting around just so she can sleep, so you can keep watch. you’d promise her that’d never happen, that no matter what you’d protect her.

the first time you told her, you could feel her breath hitch. her purple lips had parted in exasperation, and she gasped out like she’d been waiting her whole life to hear those words.

she had twiddled her fingers shyly, chewing on her bottom lip as her eyes wobbled with tears.

that was the night you’d crotched her blanket, the same night you two slept curled in her tent, arms and legs intertwined between the thick wool.

it was a show of trust, it was vulnerability, and ever since that night you’d been inseparable.

she found herself dependent.

so did you. you couldn’t mind when you felt the same. those same feelings spur up, they warm up your body every time your eyes grace her beauty as they are right now.

smiling to yourself, you let your knees buckle, elbows finding their spot against them as you rest your cheek over your palm.

her soft breaths fill the space, the gentle snores doing nothing to aid in your own fatigue.

you feel yourself growing tired just by looking at her; the most she’s ever looked at peace since you’d known her. you wonder if she’s having a dream.

what kind of dreams would she have? would she dream of her future? would she dream of you?

your lips twitch at the sides at the sentiment, and you take her hand in your own. maybe this is a step in the right direction for her, maybe you’re doing more to help than you realise.

A/N. this is kind of rushed, i wrote it in 2 hours running on about three of sleep :Pc hope you enjoyed regardless & feel free to send me requests!

[nomaintenancedecks]

Curved Deck Railing System

[whumblr]

The gravity of the situation

"Warning. Unauthorized remote override. Warning. Unauthorized increase in centrifugal force."

"Yes! Yes, thank you! I'm quite aware!" Whumpee wanted to shout back as he fought against the ever increasing pull of gravity, but it only came out as a frustrated wheeze as he dragged himself forward, clutching the railing along the hallway for dear life to keep upright.

The white hallway of the space station lit up in red as warning lights flashed on and off. Robotic voices dropped warnings left and right, their tone unimpressed by the impending danger yet they kept droning on with some form of programmed urgency.

Only one voice that broke over the robotic ones was human, recognizable by the unmistakable glee in it.

"You're doing quite well." The disembodied voice echoed through the curved hallway. Whumpee could hear the smirk in that voice, could picture the look on Whumper's face as he watched from a distance from their hacked cameras. Safe in his own spaceship. Probably with his feet up on the dash. In 1G. Or 0G, enviable.

Shut… up! Whumpee settled on screaming in his head. The asshole wouldn't hear him anyway and he had more important matters to spend his energy on. Like making sure he kept standing and inching forward towards Control to kick him back out of their system.

His arms trembled under his weight. Or rather, under twice his weight by now probably. He struggled to keep himself up. Sweaty palms threatened his grip, but he couldn’t even risk it to wipe them on his pants. Easy does it. Step by step.

"Hope you haven't skipped your weight training," the voice crooned. "Here, let's pump it up a bit... See how much you lift."

More warnings echoed through the room, clashed as the robotic voices spoke over each other to deliver their urgent messages. “Thrusters enga—” “Accelerati—” “Rotatio—” “Warni—!”

Forget weight training; every warning sent a spike of adrenaline through his heart, his body trained to shoot to action at the urgent tone and voices. He couldn't help a glance up with a light gasp, then went back to ignoring them and gratefully used the extra adrenaline to wrestle forward.

He did not immediately notice the outer ring of the space station turning faster and faster— thank god because nausea was the last thing he needed right now – but he did start to feel its effects. Slowly but surely gravity pressed further down on him, like a weighted blanket around his shoulders being pumped full of lead by some nefarious individual.

He had to hurry. Before he couldn’t even walk any—

A hand slipped. His heart skipped a beat.

The pull of gravity was merciless.

His chin hit the railing. Hard. Like someone took hold of his head and smashed him down full force. His knees crashed against the floor with a sickening thud that made him worry for his kneecaps and he just about managed to catch himself with one hand. Something in his wrist shifted. Pain shot through his arm but he bit through it, wrestling himself on both hands and knees.

"Ho, you alright?” There was no concern in that voice. Just a hint of amused surprise. “You disappeared from my feed?”

Whumpee panted hard, staring at the floor under him. Little red drops spattered against the pristine white and only then did he taste the blood. He wanted to wipe the iron taste from his lips. Wanted to cup and massage his jaw and maybe crick it back because, god, it felt like that blow had dislocated his entire face. But he couldn’t. Could only focus on staying somewhat balanced on hands and knees.

The cameras above him whirred as they looked around, searching for him.

No. No wait, that wasn’t the camera. The buzzing got louder. Got closer.

A drone flew into view as it traced the curved corridor. Their hacked drone, a blinking red dot signaling that the camera was on.

“Ah. There you are.”

The drone hovered annoyingly in his face. It, too, sputtered, not built for this kind of pull on the tiny propellors, yet it remained airborne. Before Whumpee could even think, he tried to swipe at it. Even a light swat would probably smash it right into the floor—just like him. But his arm didn't go as high as he intended and struck only air.

A low chuckle came from the drone. "Too heavy, hm?"

"Shut—!" he wheezed. Fuck, he didn't have enough air to be drawn into a shouting match. "Up..." he finished weakly.

He slid a knee forward. Crept along. Favored his right hand to support himself, his left all pins and needles and couldn’t be trusted to carry his normal weight let alone getting closer and closer to three times that. Come on, not much further now. Everyone was counting on him. And if he faltered and fell down flat on his stomach he would never make it back up. He’d slowly get crushed to death until his lungs couldn’t expand anymore under the enormous weight. Come on.

It was like a boulder balanced in-between his shoulder blades. Increasing in size with every inch forward. How fast was the outer ring going by now?!

The drone slowly buzzed along with him, keeping an eye on him, a certain someone virtually stepping along. When he crawled into the control room, he heard a tick and a scratching sound behind him and the drone scraped against the floor, its propellors no longer able to carry it an inch above the floor.

Ignore the foreboding omens. Whumpee grit his teeth. Dragged himself over to the main dashboard where the red button to override all controls blinked above him like a shining beacon.

He tried to claw his way up a chair, but it swiveled and nearly sent him crashing back to the floor.

He glared up, let out a growl through grit teeth. Everything, from the controls to the fucking furniture, was his enemy now. Mainly the mocking “Tick tock” noises from the drone’s speaker behind him and the insurmountable five feet tall dashboard in front of him.

Gathering all his strength for a last hail Mary, Whumpee sat back, firmly planted his feet under him.

With a desperate scream, he launched himself at the dashboard. Or rather, forced himself through the invisible forcefield. He clawed a hand around the edge of the panel to make sure he wouldn’t slip back and he let out a small “Ha!” in this little victory.

His other hand scratched at the little plastic cover over the red emergency button. Usually it could be removed instantly with a mere flick of the fingers. Now he nearly had to tear it off. Which, in his impatience, he did.

A final grunt of effort and he slammed his slick palm into the button.

“Emergency override sequence started. Reverting all systems.”

A laugh of relief escaped him. And he let go.

He crashed to the ground as if he fell from thirty feet up instead of the measly five. It punched the air from him, bruised his shoulder. But he didn’t care. He did it. They were safe.

“Now, that was impressive,” Whumper said, and Whumpee was sure he heard a muffled sound of hands slowly clapping. “Well done.”

He lay panting on the floor, rolled onto his back, spread-eagled. Slowly but surely, the pressure on his body let up. He could draw more air into his lungs. And could let his muscles finally relax.

The red hue in the room disappeared. The robotic voices stopped clamoring against each other as everything reverted back to normal, within safe parameters that didn’t set off any more alarms.

For a few blissful seconds, Whumpee just lay there, glad that it was over.

Until a new warning dropped.

“Warning. Unauthorized docking sequence initiated.”

And a more amused voice:

“Thanks for that. I think it’s safe now for me to board your ship.”

-

General whump tag list: @firewheeesky @myfriendcallsmeasickwoman19 @whumpawink @painsandconfusion @auroragehenna @chaotic-orphan @lolrpop @treasureguardingdragon

[saturnsorbits]

Android AU where you purchase a discounted and broken Bakugo model.

He’s got limited movement in his right arm, a faulty ocular system and a series of burns that cover one side of his face and have made the middle of his chest all melted and tacky - the synthetic skin warped like scarred flesh, but he works well enough.

It’s nice, having him around. You cook together. Watch movies. Go on picnics. Hike. Dine out. Visit aquariums and museums. It doesn’t take long for people to start assuming…

Husband. Boyfriend. Fiancé. It’s all thrown round. An endearing misunderstanding that never garners more than a blush, or at least it was, until the feelings started.

It’s a growing debate, if the androids can feel like humans can, but you find yourself at his mercy anyway. You fall for him slowly, but definitely, lost to him in all of the ways you’d never thought possible.

You bottle it, lock it in your chest even when it becomes too much taking you in a choke hold and then one day, you just… Burst.

Ducking under the rail of the park, you cross the wood-chips and toss yourself to the curved rubber seat of the swing. Beyond the small park is the ocean - a small slither of wide open blue that crashes against the walls of the sea barrier before you.

This was your place, just your place and now, now you’re sharing it with him.

He sits on your left, pushing himself with the balls of his feet. In the shadow of the street light with his synthetic blonde spikes spilling over his forehead, he almost feels like a lover - like something more than he can be. ‘I like it here.’

‘I know.’ Bakugo turns, smirks. The social module downloaded into his brain makes it look perfect, tells him the exact angle his lips should stretch to for the chosen effect.

‘There’s something about the sea being so close, it’s…’

‘Calming.’

‘Yeah.’ You sigh, glancing over to Bakugo careful not to look too long. ‘It’s calming.’

‘You wanna know why?’

‘Sure.’

‘My search says it’s due to the broad nature of the sound, as it hits your ear...' He taps your tragus. 'It creates a deep tonal noise, which due to its processing ease in the brain creates a soothing effect.'

'Huh.' It’s strange, hearing him talk like this. Usually, he’s so informal, so blunt and matter of fact it’s strange when all of that wiring in his head kicks back in and has him talking like… Well like a robot.

‘Did it again, didn’t I?’

You chuckle. ‘Sometimes you just talk like we’re worlds apart.’

‘Sorry. I -.’

‘No, no…’ You smile, softly, before reaching over and resting your palm on his thigh.

Bakugo blinks, looking down at the hand wrapping his leg. Gingerly, he accepts it. Entwining his fingers with yours, he squeezes. ‘I…’ His voice is a whisper. ‘I don’t want to hurt you.’

‘Katsuki.’

Squeezing softly, Bakugo doesn’t lift his gaze when he talks. 'I don't love you.'

You laugh, the cold air stinging your teeth. ‘I don’t love you.’ It’s a half-truth, the emotion caught in your chest might not yet be love, but it’s too close to it for comfort. ‘You don’t have to love me.’

Bakugo breathes deep despite not needing to. ‘I - I don’t feel -.’

You cut him off, eyes wide, a softeness already burrowing into your expression. You can’t imagine what’s it’s like, to be filled with a thing you were born never to have - to be coming alive for the first time. ‘Katsuki… You do. I know that you’re more than just a robot… More than -‘

‘No.’ Bakugo tightens his grip on your hand, flicking his eyes up to meet yours. ‘I can - I do feel…’ He corrects. ‘I just don’t feel for you what you feel for me.’

[cityof2morrow]

NetworkMAT: Streetscaping 001 (Sidewalks & Sewers)

Published: 5-23-2024 | Updated: 7-16-2024 (+hood visibility) SUMMARY “Accentuate the streets, pedestrian paths, and roadsides in your city …” “Rubberall is made from upcycled rubber, metal, and other materials. It's ten and a half times weather resistant as regular rubber and twice a pretty. Order it in bulk today!” “Build a functional water and waste management system in your city…” Another edition to the Network Materials (networkMAT) (Simmons, 2022-2024) series! This modular set includes 80 low poly objects for pedestrian paths, sidewalks, decorative foundations, and other roadside streetscaping. Objects are designed to be used with the Streets of 2morrow (Simmons, 2023) set  - but they’ll work without them just fine. There are also matching neon curb lights. How about functional sewer/water management networks?! You also get a canal, tunnel, deco, and functional items for making your own sewer network. The drains will clear the lot of any unattended puddles and garbage every few hours – visible exhaust rises from them during this process. The utility box and pipes earn the lot owner a small credit at each billing cycle – SimCity rewards good infrastructure!

DETAILS Requires all EPs/SPs. §0 and §100-1000 for lights/bollards, §300-1000 for sewer items Build > Architecture/Columns and Buy > Lighting/Plumbing/Electronics > Misc Most objects are repo’d to the BBNiche1Master (BuggyBooz, 2012) and/or Element Repository, which are both in the Repo Pack (Simmons, 2022). Don’t forget to grab some recolors – I recommend the “element” set HERE (Simmons, 2023) for the sewage water/material. See the following tags for more swatches: #co2recolors, #ts2recolors, #ts2repo #co2repo #co2repopack IMPORTANT:

2-click objects are for 2-click/step foundations and foundation pieces are for default foundations/stages. Still – you’ll be able to mix and match in a variety of ways.

You’ll need “move object on/off” and “grid on/off” cheats to place some objects.

Foundation pieces match default foundations/decks which are slightly larger than a 1x1 tile space. They will overlap slightly – so depending on your design, you may want to shift things around with cheats.

Some items are asymmetrical/oversized so they’ll fit better with others in the set and give the paths a bit of a “distressed” look.

The 1x1/2x2 round corners use angled (not rounded) curves; this detail is apparent when you apply solid color txtr’s to them.

Some lights are repo’d to the neon plutonium rod (Nightlife EP) and will use the same light colors.

There is a short tutorial for this set HERE.

ITEMS SIDEWALKS

2-Click Platforms, Planters, and Ramps (12-100 poly) 4-Click Foundations (32-64 poly) Bollards 001-002 (230-262 poly) – Bollard 001 is repo’d to the Plutonium Rod (Nightlife EP) Step Covers (Steps/Ramp) (~18-24 poly) -place with cheats; – center/side pieces work as Rubberall Platform 1x1/2x1 (20 poly) Rubberall Ramp Cover 1x1 (66 poly) Rubberall Corner (Left/Right) (96 poly) Rubberall Curb (14 poly) Just8, 1x1 Transition Curb Left (24 poly) Just8, 1x1 Transition Curb Right (24 poly) Just8, 1x1 Transition Platform (44 poly) Lighting (166-332 poly) Solo, 1x1 Planter (20 poly) Solo, 2x2 Planter (20 poly) Urban Future 4, 1x1 Curb (66 poly) – REQUIRED MESH; includes invisible recolor Other curbs, curves, corner, and accent pieces (6-305 poly) SEWERS 001

Beam (Deco) (44 poly) Beam (Column) (44 poly) Canal (7x9) (140 poly) Pipes 001-003 (1000-1024 poly) Rails (1-Tile/3-Tile) (115-192 poly) Tunnel (7x9) (448 poly) Utility Box (Functional) (266 poly) – earns the lot owner a small credit for each billing cycle. Utility Wires (896 poly) Zogorman Drains (1x1 /3x1) (42-126 poly) K76 Drains (1x1/2x2/Raised) (728-744 poly) DOWNLOAD (choose one) from SFS | from MEGA COMPATIBILITY Compatible with Shiftable Everything (Lamare, 2022) and Object Freedom (Fway, 2023). Shift trees and garden plants into place before adding the planter pieces. CREDITS Thanks: Sim Shenanigans Discord folks, UV Mapping Tips (Frac, 2024). Sources: Beyno (Korn via BBFonts), Dosch SciFi Materials V1.1 (2022; 2009), EA/Maxis; Metal Grate (RBG_illustrations, 2019 via CCA), Modulo_Sewer_01 (Polo_Art, 2022 via Creative Commons Attribution), Modular Sidewalk/Curb Kit (Just8 2022-2023 via CCA), Neon Floor Lamp Add-On (PineappleForest, 2022), Nooks & Niches (Buggybooz, 2012), Offuturistic Infographic (Freepik), Retro Simlish Font/Simlish Manbow Solid (Adele, n.d.), Rubber Traffic Inspirations (Pewex, 2019), Sewer grate (Katy76 via PC Sims, 2007); Sidewalk (Zogorman, 2018 via CCA), Spawn of Square Stair (Khakidoo, 2007;), Textures (CuriousB, HugeLunatic, 2018; Simmons, 2023; 2010; Stonemason, 2011; Klevestav, 2013; 2010; EA/Maxis); Tree Planter w/ Grate (LordSamueliSolo, 2021 via CCA), Urban Future 4 (Stonemason, 2011).

[notyourmamasdeerbat]

WIP WHENEVER

Heyyyy 👋 Things are progressing slowly and I seem to be out and about more and more with less time to properly put down my thoughts. Thank you so very kindly to @fenrelmercar @the-bear-and-his-sunbird and @seaglassmelody ! I'm pleased to share what little I have! There's a bit of Chapter 6 of Carry the Dagger and a chunk of Chapter 1 of I Feel A Change on the Rise, my fun little Western Veilguard AU.

Uncombed is proving stubborn, but I have started Chapter 2 and will have more to show for it very soon. Love you! Drink some water! Get yourself a treat! 💕🫶🧋

Chapter 6:

A flurry of blue sparks ignited and burst apart inches from the back of Rook’s chair, and both they and Harding shrieked.

The two explorers lunged for weapons.

“Dweller,” the Caretaker addressed in its echoing timbre, floating there by a small round table by the curving stone rail. Harding sagged with a heavy breath and Rook sank back into their seat with a groan.

“Forgive the intrusion. Another message.”

“Now?” Rook sighed. “Where are you getting these?”

The Caretaker offered no answer, a spectral gauntlet gently depositing a folded note in unblemished, gilded parchment on the little table before vanishing in a swarm of blue motes once more.

Harding frowned over her shoulder. “...Wonders never cease?”

Rook groaned and pushed themselves to their feet with a series of rattling clicks in their shoulders and hips. “This mail system is going to give me an aneurysm.”

*

And Western AU:

“Easy,” Rook said as they heard the satisfying clank-thunk of Julius’ weight clipping the fold out step. He groaned. “I’m on your side.”

“You got him?” Harding lowered her rifle, expression almost unreadable.

“Yeah. I got him.”

“And you didn’t…?”

“I want to get paid,” Rook growled.

“Right.” Harding smiled ruefully and slung the rifle across her back.

“You thought I would?”

“...Yeah. I did.”

“Well, I didn't.” Harding’s forder, Cheesewheel, nosed Rook's hair as they stepped forward. “You're not dead, so I'm assuming we win?”

“We win. Don't look over the ridge. It's messy.”

“Proud of you.”

Harding laughed and pulled herself up into Cheesewheel's saddle.

“Where's Neve?”

“Round the bend. Shiral picked a fight and kept going.”

Rook winced. “She hurt?”

“Oh no. Caved some poor bastard's head in. Do dracolisk get blood frenzy?”

Rook followed Harding's horse along the mountainside, dragging the mayor through the dust all the while. He had the good sense to keep any complaints to himself.

Neve was already saddled up, a few flecks of blood staining her deepstalker hide duster and white shirt beneath her suspenders. She tipped up her dark hat as her warmblood, Winter, shied and danced nervously. Cheesewheel gave the scene a wide berth as Rook dropped the mayor.

Shiral was rearing and kicking, hissing and bucking at the air, plumes of dust bursting up from her front claws and back hooves.

Rook approached the aggressive mount, whistling softly in descending scales. “Hey, honey.” A few clicks of the tongue. “Woah. Shiral.” The dracolisk stilled, tossing her horns with a shake of her head.

“Be careful, Rook,” Neve groaned.

“She's bluffing. Hang on.” Rook held out their open hands. “Woah. Dar atish'an. Atish'an.”

Shiral snorted, turning one yellow eye upon the rogue. Her lips peeled back from her teeth as another long, reptilian hiss rippled through her. She stamped a foot.

“Atish'an, ma falon,” Rook murmured, drawing ever closer. Shiral stamped her foot again, even as Rook gently took the reins. “Shhh. Atish’an.”

Grumbling, the dracolisk settled, scaly tail whisking. Rook stroked the rough bumps of her nose. “Drama queen. You get ‘em all?”

Shiral huffed.

“Good girl. Come on. Let's get back.”

Just some drabbles to get through the week. Thank you, as always, for reading! 💕🧡

Gentle tagging @davrinsleftpectoral @caughtnyact @hedwigoprah @jenn2d2 YOU!! 👁👁

[darkdemeter]

WORST FUR WEATHER

IMAGINE... REUINITING WITH WANDA AT THE APARTMENT AFTER BEING EXPOSED TO A SEX POLLEN

Wanda Maximoff x GN/Female/Male Werewolf Reader

— READ BELOW THE CUT AT YOUR OWN RISK

The rain pelts harder now, your fur drenched, slick with the droplets that now run rivets down the curvature of your muscles. Your tail swishes from side to side in your hungering curiosity, the power in your haunches holds you atop the balcony’s railing. 

Your head is bowed and turned to your side before it raises up, nose twitching in resistance to the rain drops trying to hinder the alluring scent in the air, coming from inside the apartment. Her body is sudden to flinch, the muscles and nerves twitching in a response to fight or flight, when your hand lowers and your head rises; turning your gaze inward to the apartment.

Wanda stares with her mouth agape, the way your amber eyes beam hotly against the glass, reflective orbs dancing over the wide window panel as you tilt your head slightly. 

Her eyes travel downwards, following the flowing river that leaves you soaking wet. A flutter takes over her stomach then. The way your eyes search through the glass pane, she wonders if you’re able to see her completely or if you only take notice of your own reflection. To test her theory, she moves slowly, her body moves around one of the couches. 

Your head ever so slightly moves along with her. You can see her. 

Your eyes analyse her through the barrier between you both. The dark stockings that hug her thighs tight to the point that the exposed skin at the top of her thighs is only visible by an inch before the rest is hidden beneath her scarlet dress. In your wolf mind, you’re left to the primal beauty of your unsatiated fantasies. 

With a husk-drawn growl, your muzzle wrinkles to bare your elongated teeth, the heat of your body only increases as she nears closer to the glass. 

One powerful leg stoops down off the ledge, muscles flexing as the pads of your pawed feet scuffing against the balcony’s floor. Wanda’s eyes watch with an infectious intent and delight, her chest rises and forces her breasts to push up with a deep breath. 

Seeing her lungs deflate, you can read her sigh of relief. 

“I thought… I thought I’d lost you,” she says behind the glass, pressing a hand up, reaching out for you. Your other leg moves down and you stalk forward, the rain that ran down your form follows you in a wet trail. 

“But you’re here…,” she gasps, “you’re alive.”

An obscurity paints itself on the glassy surface when your hot breath hits it, misting over the outline of her hand. 

She notices how your fiery eyes rake up and down her form and she’s reminded of what toxic chemical attacks your system. The mound juncture between your powerful, muscular thighs also proves just how far along since it’s invaded your body. 

But strangely enough, you appear… calm. It brings a cause of curiosity, your calmness, and Wanda tilts her head to the left slightly and leaves the curve of her neck exposed.

That’s when she sees that composure leave you at the drop of a hat. The formation of your browline scrunches and your muzzle wrinkles into a snarl, you snap your jaws with a growl at the glass, your claws hatch aggressive lines into the window’s surface. She’s taken aback and stumbles, backing away from the window a few steps. 

When she looks again, between your legs at the pitifully aroused location, her breath becomes light and short lived in her lungs, a slickness pools between her thighs, threatening to drool and seep out from her panties. Wanda’s often fantasised about you fucking her raw and hard until she cannot take it any longer many times - in your human form - but now, all she can conjure in her mind is the desirable idea of having you take her like this.

And the way your eyes linger on her form in hunger does little to ease her own for you.

She hears the muffled tone of your guttural purr, "Let me in, Little Lamb..."

— — — —

TREEHOUSE TAGLIST — @alexawynters @alyciaddict