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#man i left all the good shit in NC
lesenbyan · 5 days
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I will not start a project with denim when I've been awake for 19 hours. I will not start a project with denim with I've been awake for 19 hours. I will not start a project with denim when I've been awake for 19 hours. I will not-
#repetitive text;#manic posting;#i remembered in hs when i'd spend my manic nights writing somg lyrics in sharpie on my arms and legs and jeans#and then had the idea to stitch/embroider lyrics into said jeans bc i was PRETTY sure i still had them bc they were ny favorite and#idr them wearing out. but APPARENTLY not. i looked everywhere short of digging out the closet i've wanted to for a month#but that's got years worth of chewy boxes broken down amd stacked in front of it bc i am a disaster#(i mean to recycle them. that never happened. at this point i'll just put them in thw dumpster. when i get around to getting them out of#the corner and down the stairs#i took my meds at least (not the tegretol. i don't want to intentionally kill my first proper manic episode in /so/ long)#BUT i was then thinking about canabilizing old jeans to create the cut i loved about the old ones (but half what i loved was texture)#and then embroidering that#but my last manic project with denim left my fingers so fuckin bloody#bc manic me can and will not use a sewing machine and thimbles get in my way#and that was. back in 2013-2015. wish i still had that. never wore it bc course not.#i also don't have the manic project of the L (death note) inspired Lolita skirt#think theu both stayed in NC#man i left all the good shit in NC#but yeah like. to say nothing of the fact that ostensibly the roommate will be home and wanting to sleep at some point#and manic me and headphones are fucking rivals#manic me has a lot of beefs#it's almost like (and this might shock you) i'm manic!#(i promise i'm trying to go to bed at this point)#(it's bed or cleaning my room or denim project and i would like SOME sleep if i'm gonna do either)#(to say nothing of i need to do 3 expert roulettes in XIV and can you imagine that shit after literally not sleep?)#(mania will NOT save my ass from micronapping)#personal;#i'm so sorry for anyone actually reading all these posts and tags#but! if you are! welcome to my oversharing corner <3#also i am still planning on helping a friend clean and assmeble a chair tomorrow#which! mania is good for! i can clean! i love cleaning when manic! (my OCD ramps up when manic)
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theladyofbloodshed · 1 year
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The conversation in ACOSF about Rhys being the best option for High King (k!ll me pls) is so strange, because how are Cassian, Amren and Azriel not aware of how much everyone hates the Night Court? They’ve literally spent hundreds of years acting like pieces of shit yet they think the High Lords will just hand over the reigns (after 50 years under Amarantha, no less) and all the Fae in the courts will be oh so happy.
They stole from Tarquin and Feyre’s boss babe destruction of the Spring Court left the door open to Summer, Kallias and Beron openly hate Rhysand, Helion is friendly and will be until he realizes that his pals at the NC think so little of him, Thesan won’t do it either because the Dawn court is said to be neutral in conflicts (war means people die). Tamlin will probably off himself before he kneels and if Lucien is temporarily in charge, I doubt he’ll do it either. If Eris is High Lord by then, he’s definitely NOT kneeling. Man’s been waiting too long to be in charge.
I hate it, I hate it, I hate it!!!!
They're all so oblivious and righteous in their beliefs at the same time.
Azriel: “Kallias, Tarquin, and Helion might be willing to kneel. Thesan will kneel if the others do.”
Why would the three non-white high lords be willing to kneel?! Tarquin and Helion didn't expect to be high lord but Tarquin is doing a damn good job of trying to improve the lives of his court. Why would any of them give up their court's ruling to a near-enough stranger? Cassian nodded. Rhys as High King: he could think of no other male he’d trust more. No other male who would be a fairer ruler than Rhys. And with Feyre as High Queen … Prythian would be blessed to have such leaders.
Respectfully, what the fuck are you smoking Cassian? Feyre's rule so far a) gone to war b) had a baby. We've never seen her involved with politics except when she started a fight at the high lord meeting and burnt the lady of the autumn court. Blessed?????? Tell that to the Spring Court who got annihilated thanks to her. Tell that to the Summer Court who got annihilated because she opened the doors to Hybern.
So Cassian said, “Tamlin would probably fight, and lose. Beron would be the only one standing in your way.”
Tamlin is a high lord who is the same size as Cassian and fought in war bands. Like why do they act like he's not powerful???
Beron please I am rooting for you, make their lives difficult as hell
“I will not be High King. I will not consider it, not today and not in a century.”
Literally the only sexy thing Rhys has ever said.
How would it even work except for retconning the scant world building? High lords have their specific powers. You can't just make somebody high king surely, what happens to their powers?
I do think it will happen though. Rhys will change his mind and realise it's for the best if he becomes high king because amren said nesta's swords should be his.
Listen, just make Nesta high queen and be done with this.
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vivanightcity · 10 months
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Name: Yash 'V' Vala
Age: 23
Gender + Pronouns: Man, he/him
Occupation: Courier and runner, both legally and less so. Largely operating in the southern parts of NC, but officially covers the whole city. If something small and physical needs to be somewhere safe and fast and undetected? He's a pretty good option.
Cyberware: Sandevistan, gills, grip feet, reinforced tendons, smuggling compartments in his legs. (Gills provide up to 4 hours of time underwater without resurfacing, given where he got them, they include a filter to help - but not eliminate - the trouble from unclean or dangerous waters. Grip feet basically makes feet prehensile and adds an extra grip surface to the bottom. The storage space used for smuggling is just small compartments, 2 x 6 inches, one in each thigh.)
Long form backstory under the cut: It's long yall, I went a bit ott with it.
His mom was from the Raven and Rats nomadic group when her family arrived in London. Settling their narrowboats in what would’ve been around Limehouse - since the flooding caused by the Thames Barrier bombing, there were a lot of new routes and waterways for the nomads.
After the fall of the thames barrier, Equinox more or less left that area of east london to rot. Seeing it as too much effort for what they’d get back. So for decades there was rampant crime in an almost entirely ungoverned and abandoned city. Officially, no one there existed. No one lived there. Despite the crowded streets of floating walkways, and salvaged tops of flooded old brick buildings turned into rare dry outcroppings, and houseboats, narrowboats, floating shacks made of salvage, littered the entire place. It was alive. Always was. Just. Not according to the government.
In the mid 2050s, there was another push to reclaim and control the area. As it grew, moving into the flooded thames, encroaching more into the highly militarized City and Westminster, there were more clashes between BCF - British Combined Forces - and citizens, as well as criminal groups that used the growing slums and waterways to their benefit. 
Multiple corporations, especially those with headquarters in the city, were pushing for the government to take action and start up a new Urban Development Committee after the past ones failed, or abandoned, the area, to at least get the border pushed back.
ETB - English Tourist Board - wanted to clean up the city to make it more appealing again, especially with R&R and other trouble making groups being able to hide more easily in the sprawling river. IMA - Imperial Metropolitan Agriculture - wanted to use the large flooded space to build artificial floating island farms, to make the most out of the potential, as more and more of the Good British Soil (TM) was being worked to death and lost to city expansion. If they wanted to keep telling people to BUY BRITISH (TM) they’d need more space. 
It was easy to hide the initial clashes and push back, these weren’t residents, there was no proof they were even UK citizens, so it was easy to sell it as the typical xenophobic fearmongering that kept so many in check. Only the east end wasn’t going down easy, and the BCF found themselves against a strangely, and worryingly, united force of nomadic groups who needed the river, criminal groups that thrived in the ungoverned corners, and even militia groups from a bit further east, as the thames basins flooding was felt all the way along, with many areas of South Essex not caring a shit about what was happening in Colchester and the north, but connecting - as they always did - with east london. A shared river, a shared blood, a shared history. So it was easy to redirect from action in East Anglia to a new front. 
Yash’s family were not involved. Like many civilians, they were just caught in between. He wasn’t even born yet when his father was killed. Shot by BCF working as private security on behalf of EBT to scout and find historic areas that could be salvaged of worth or even turned into tourist destinations - the top of greenwich hill, the observatory itself, being a great place to start trying to reclaim for tourism, from the destruction it has seen after decades of apparent ‘misuse’ as a crowded indoor market, with the rare areas of dry actual earth and land around it turned into lush community garden. All fiercely protected by a tight community, quickly labelled as a ‘gang’ by the government. His father worked there, as a mechanic, helping people repair their boats and homewares. When the EBT scouts tried to clear people out, they were harassing people who worked there, civilians of all kinds, including the elderly and children. They moved too slow, they didn’t listen or respond as wanted, to screamed orders and threats. 
His dad stepped in to argue with them, unarmed, untrained, but angry, they can’t treat people like that, and he got shot for his trouble. He was considered a hero to many of them, and his death was a spark for that mislabelled gang to maybe take the label more seriously. If they were going to treat them like criminals, they’ll defend themselves like criminals. When EBT returned to take the royal observatory by force, they were fought back. It was bloody and violent, and the locals lost a lot more people, but they won. There is a mural of those lost still in the observatory, touched up, and sometimes added to, over the decades since. His dad is front and center.
Both his older brothers knew their father very well, being 13 and 9 at the time he was killed. They both deified him, and the fight he set off, and went whole-hog anti-government and anti-corp. They’re, essentially, Rockerboys. (I just can’t remember if Rockerboy is only for that specific genre, or can be applied to any and all anti-authoritarian musicians in the cyberpunk verse? If it’s only the genre, then it doesn’t fit.). They were founding members of the Foundlings. A community gang made up of kids around their age who saw what was done to try and erase the east end, and are going to guerilla warfare street tactics the shit out of things to protect their home. The name coming from the pure numbers who were orphaned and alone after what became seen as a war with the corporations and BCF along the river. 
Yash always tried to keep up with his brothers, but they wouldn’t let him, he was too young, he didn’t understand fully why they did what they did. He was raised with a hatred and distrust of corps and government, and a fierce personal anger for them taking a father he never got to know from him, but he didn’t see the level of violence that the war was. He wasn’t involved. There were still clashes, but it wasn’t the same. The metal wars were in the news, sure, but they weren’t theirs to care about. They had enough trouble on their front door step. 
He got his job as a courier initially through the Mudlarks - A more recent, largely non-violent, smuggling group that operates along the river - not knowing that his brothers put some pressure in to stop him being allowed into the more criminal aspects, even with that, he eventually started pushing to get involved in running dead drops and collections along the river during low tide.
It was the mudlarks that landed him in NC. A london based gin maker - an illegal business without licensing - needed to get some out to NC because an NC based celebrity was throwing a party, and was requesting it. Deep pockets and an affinity since they’d done a world tour and tried some in London.
It was his job to see it got there safely. They’d have someone meeting the cargo at the other end, but he had to accompany it on the orbital transit. When he gets into NCX, he is indeed met, but by NCPD and orbital corp customs. He managed to duck them, but it wasn’t like he could walk back into NCX and try to leave, although NCPD seemed to drop the grudge quickly, he knew Orbital Corp still had him on the no-fly list. On the plus side, he did get a pretty decent pay day when he delivered the order to Empathy, no middle man cut for people in NC. He still transferred what was owed to the mudlarks back to them, but kept the rest. 
They told him to lie low, and even gave him some contacts, largely within Pacifica, Heywood, and the City Center. Pacifica felt the most like home, so he set up shop, got in good with the right fixers, spent some time learning the fastest ways around, and built a good reputation from there.
'V' was actually the symbol his brothers used as a tag, the name they released music under, and they'd always talk a big game about how it was for the east ends victory over the BCF, and the peace they're fighting for etc. etc. but Yash knows damn well that last bit is just a line they thought up later. Typical younger brother, the second he got the chance, he took it. Decided V was his thing now. They couldn't stop him all this way from home after all.
He meets Jackie in the canonical Streetkid way, just without the Heywood local vibes.
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vincentmatthews · 1 year
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Getting To Know Me~♡
🌱Tagged By:
@timaeusterrored 💕 I live rent-free in their ask box and they allow me to bother them constantly about their characters. I should get the guts to dm them to try and make friends but I'm scared I'll come off as weird so I just live in their questions.
Translation: *BARKBARKBARK*
🌱Favorite Color:
Baby blue, Sunflower yellow, and Neon orange
🌱Currently Reading:
Co-writing/Roleplay -> Humiliation with @crimsonixx We've been keeping that discord channel active since Nov 28, 2021
Book -> I'm Glad My Mom Died. I've heard great things of this book and decided to pick up a copy to read on my road trip this weekend. {Granted I don't get car sick and end up with my face in a plastic bag 90% of the ride.}
Other than that, nothing much, I need to sit down and read You Regret Me. Maybe I'll pick it up this coming weekend so I have something to read while we drive down to Nevada. Even if I have to screencap the pages and read it through my gallery.
🌱Last Song:
{Link}
🌱Last Movie:
I did a double feature which were: Juno {it's become a comfort movie} and Napoleon Dynamite {it's nostalgic}.
🌱Last Series:
I don't know if podcasts count, and if so, then it's gotta be Distractible on Spotify {now with video episodes! :3}
As for TV shows, the last series I watched was the original older episodes of SpongeBob because they were nostalgic as fuck. Like Krusty Krab pizza episode, that's top-tier work right there.
🌱Sweet, Savory, or Spicy?
All, I'm not picky. But Salty and Sweet is amazing~♡ Like a salted caramel~♡ {Do y'all pronounce it as Car-mel? Or like Cara-mel?}
🌱Craving?
A beat up John Wick so I can run him a hot bubble bath, give him face kisses, and cover him in Hello Kitty Band-aids. Also someone get my man two wolves as pets.
🌱Tea or Coffee?
I love a good London Fog~♡ Sadly, I have a more Caffeine lean as of late. And nothing tastes better than a good ol' cuppa joe in the mornin'.
🌱Currently Working On:
Fanfic/Small depressing story -> Summer Rain, which is a sequel to another writing I'm not done with. Summer Rain goes more into Vince losing his sensation of touch and registering the difference between hot and cold. It leads more into why he left in the middle of the night. Which is where my first one picks up.
Fanfic/Requested Story -> I Don't Want To Live Forever. I posted a small WIP section of this before. It's a small ship story for @crimsonixx with their O.C. Jess and Johnny. It's a wholesome story where they drive around NC on her bike late at night, enjoying each other's company. It's one of the times Johnny shows his more sensitive and "human" side.
Fanfic/Special Writing -> Small gift writing between my OC Vinessa/Vinny and another user's OC. I won't give too much away since they don't know I'm writing it. My favorite section so far is Ker screaming at Vinny from the upstairs bedroom window.
I have a whole lot more that I'm working on. I kinda bounce around from writing to writing. 90% of the time they get finished, it just takes a while. The other 10% get locked away and never see the light of day. :3
🌱Random thing about me:
♡I love bees and honey.
♡My favorite comfort game is Slime Rancher and Firewatch💕
♡I'm 5ft 5in. But I wish I was 6ft 1in. I feel short. >:(
♡My favorite type of weather is summer thunder storms
♡My favorite fruit are strawberries and watermelon.
♡I have a jack-shit named Buddy. :3
♡My favorite horror movie is Scream because Matthew Lillard is a babe~♡ {Side note: I'm so excited for FNAF because Matthew's going to be in it x3 It's about time our Scream Daddy was in another horror movie~♡}
♡I've stayed in a haunted hotel before~♡
♡My favorite holidays are Halloween and Christmas 💕
♡My passions are cooking and writing~♡
🌱Tagging:
@crimsonixx and whoever else has seen this, and hasn't already participated, consider yourself tagged💕
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polyamorouspunk · 10 months
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Heyy tumblr bestie!!
Life is still absolutely *WACK* but its *fine* I took today off work to just not and get my shit together a bit. Dad got biopsy results that he’s refusing to look at, niece is being pulled out of school cause of death threats, and Im just here lol
On a brighter note though! I got invited to a dnd campaign for January so I’ve been working on a really fun new character!! AND, Im taking Mountain Boy to my family’s Christmas party tomorrow which is great cause I’ll get to avoid all the ‘why no boyfriend?’ Questions but also SO nerve wracking cause my family is MUCH crazier than his. But Im excited anyways to make him play cards with me there and meet my fam (except my brother and nephew cause they’re down in Kentucky cause my nephew qualified for the junior olympics for track)
Anyhow, I hope you have a good weekend!! Lots of love! 💛💛💛
-key
Hey there! Love you so much too!
I’m glad Mountain Boy is meeting your family today! Congrats to your nephew! In our family newsletter I saw that on Thanksgiving one of my cousins had a gymnastics meet that they were inviting the family to and I was like man I would go if I still lived in Connecticut. I remember being invited along to my neighbor’s once and it was neat. When I was up visiting you my cousin was doing hers at the college which I think I told you about, you said it was pretty far away, like 5 hours right? She ended up spending the night with me at her grandma’s house the night before I left and I was taking a plane back to NC and she was going to be driving to NC that day as well. Her and her mom just came down to visit the 2nd week of November so her mom could run a race with my mom’s other cousin. And I’ll be looking forward to coming up next summer to visit you again!
I really would love to play dnd but I don’t have anyone to play with and I think I would need to play in person to really understand what’s going on. I was part of a test pilot group for a dnd-style game my friend and their brother pioneered and when I went to stay at their house my friend was like “by the way we’re talking about this game we made up” and both their brother and I were like “yeah OUR friend group was the test subject for that” and they were like OH RIGHT I FORGOT. They have a Friday family game night that I was crashing (they invited me to crash it since I was sleeping there, and invited our other best friend and her husband to crash it too if they wanted) but since it was Halloween it was more of a party where my friend and I watched Bluey for 2 hours and ate food their mom had made and we exchanged gifts and I got gifts too and I was like 😭 thank you 😭
I’ve been keeping it on the down-low but I’m dating again (really lowkey for right now because holiday season is retail is nightmare) but I haven’t really told anyone outside of my discord server because I was like “hey advice on this” and then my friend on discord I talk to every day and my best friend since she had to third-wheel the last date we went on since she was diving me around. My other friends have met her before but I doubt anyone remembers because my other best friend has the WORST memory (like forgetting we were the ones who demoed their game) but my other friend might remember because we all went to college together. I should tell my other friends I just have not.
Sending your dad so much love and support, as well as you and Mountain Boy and the rest of your family.
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aggravateddurian · 11 months
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Chorus: Prodigal Daughter
A missile whistled as it fell from the sky on its terminal phase, its high explosive warhead primed for a contact detonation. It sailed into the sand of the Badlands, sending a blast of sand and shrapnel in almost every direction.
The nomad camp was showered in debris as armed men and women dove for cover behind anything vaguely bulletproof. As the dust settled, through the miasma of gunpowder, smoke from burning vehicles and tents, a single man stormed through, brandishing a Nokota Copperhead in hand, barrel pointed in the air.
He was tall, at least a head taller than the nearest nomad, broad shouldered, arms bulging with muscle, and covered in tattoos that told a rich story of a man's long, sorrowful life. There were old Army tattoos, Bakkers clan tattoos, tattoos that marked important milestones: his marriage, his daughter's birth, his wife's death, and then his daughter's. It was the most recent, dated to the end of 2076.
His hair was shorn short, starting as a mohawk, terminating in a long-braided ponytail, like a Viking. Cold steel eyes glared at the approaching Militech troopers and their Basilisk armoured support.
A middle-aged man, dressed in a practical, military fashion and a pair of tactical glasses turned to him, holstering his revolver, "Logan! Militech's launched their assault!"
"I can fucking see that, Willie!" shouted Logan Hawse, as a crew of nomad snipers opened fire on the approaching enemy, the loud reports of their Nekomatas echoing through the Badlands, "why the fuck didn't our scouts see 'em?"
"They were smart, used air recon to identify our positions, then infiltrated around them," replied Willie McCoy, "almost nomad in execution. Gotta hand it to them."
"The only thing I want to hand them is a lead injection, Willie!" retorted Logan, "We need to take out that MLRS battery, or this little jaunt to NC is going to end with the death of the Bakkers!"
Willie looked around, "With what? Let me pull a tank battalion outta my fuckin' ass, Logan! This was your gonkbrained idea! If we stayed with Snake Nation like I said we should, we wouldn't be gettin' our asses shelled by rocket artillery!"
Logan landed a Gorilla Arm on the man's shoulder, "Willie. You're a fixer. Fuckin' fix something..."
Willie sighed, "There's someone in NC who knows the clan, could help us out. You ain't gonna like it, though!"
Logan shook his head, "You're talking about Vega? Call her."
"Thought you'd punch me for suggesting it, actually."
Willie could tell that the man's consent was given after a long, agonising internal dialogue. When Willie pulled his agent out, Logan turned away to talk to someone else.
The holo began to ring, before it picked up, "The number you are calling is not available. Please check the number and try again."
Willie shook his head, "No good, phone's disconnected. She could be dead in NC for all we know."
Logan furrowed his brow, shaking his head, despite not even looking at the fixer, "She's out there."
Willie threw his hands up, "We kicked her out of the fucking clan, Logan! Maybe she doesn't want to help us? Ever consider that?"
Logan swiftly turned, his fist balled, but stopping just short of compressing McCoy's nose into his skull, "We... we didn't kick her out... she left. Maybe she's changed number... call your Aldecaldo choom, tell her we need to make contact with her."
"Dakota? I'd be surprised if she's in any mood to pick up for me either."
He tapped his contact for Dakota Smith, and took a deep breath.
"Willie McCoy... I never thought I'd hear from you again... brother," Dakota said, her brow furrowing, "You'd only call me if you wanted something... I'm listening."
"I need to get in contact with Vega Hawse," Willie replied, "Family emergency."
Dakota seemed to restrain herself from bursting into hysterical laughter, "Family? McCoy, you kicked her out of the Bakkers. She's not one of your family anymore."
"Cut the shit, Smith. Fixer to fixer, we can do business. How much is her contact worth?"
Dakota paused, "10000 eurodollars."
"Ten thou..." Willie began, only for Logan to abruptly join the call, from over his shoulder.
"Done."
Dakota nodded, "Sending you her detes now. Don't be surprised if she won't pick up... especially after the way your people treated her. She's found a new family now, McCoy."
The Aldecaldo hung up, and as agreed, Vega's new contact detes appeared in his holo.
McCoy took a deep breath and began the call. Vega's holocall was a default Night City ID photo. McCoy studied the image as it rang. There was something subtly off about the woman's face, before the call finally picked up. Vega crossed her arms, "Vega here..." she greeted him, her voice showing clear signs of both a slight Texan twang and a clear Night City street influence. Her steely blue eyes widened, then her eyes filled with fury, "Willie McCoy... fuck! Give me a good reason why I shouldn't hang up!"
"Vega, know you didn't expect to ever see me again... but I need your help... we need your help."
Vega sighed, "...fuck it. What, where, when and how much am I gettin' paid?"
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crystalelemental · 1 year
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Last week, I failed miserably to do an F2P clear, because the Electric-weak Siebold stage is...bullshit?  It's bullshit.  If you don't have an EX Striker in Hau or BP Sophocles, get out.  So with that in mind, I gave up.  This week, however.  This week was revenge.
Vs. Wikstrom Ghost-weak is a fantastic time, because Shauntal just casually tosses out like a billion damage per attack.  She's ridiculous.  Agatha being able to sleep lockdown the opponent means you operate pretty freely.  Lodge Morty is a little slow to max out Shauntal, but he gets the job done easily enough that Agatha's stalling does make all the difference.
Vs. Malva BP Karen is not my favorite to use, but I'm getting used to her.  Sometimes you just have to throw around Double Edge.  Her recoil is nothing short of severe, she can 2HKO herself on recoil if you're not careful.  But there are means of getting around it.  Hop can cap her needed offenses, allowing her to take Feint Attack on the left side to weaken it, setting up for Double Edge KO, which deals significantly less damage back to her.  With Hop having EX, Double Edge is a pretty sure KO with even mild chip damage, so chip really exists just to prevent recoil.  Hop's Potion isn't even strictly necessary.  Nanu's sync is particularly strong, and even with only -4 defense on Chandelure, he dealt enough to put it well into critical HP, which is Double Edge range.
Vs. Siebold Now to once again sing the merits of No Field Effects over Offenses +5.  Barrold eats so much shit when offenses are up, but with no weather change?  Easy street.  Initially, I wanted Erika to nuke, and that requires Sun.  But I realized...there is no reason to do that.  Barry/Erika is a fun comp when looking at powerhouse Sun setters like NC Leaf, but it's frankly terrible otherwise, they're far too slow.  What they can do, however, is push Sycamore to what I'm going to call "Bullshit range."  Sycamore needs for very little in terms of Barry's buffs, while Erika's Energy Ball offers special defense drops for further damage.  Following Barry's EX Support sync, Sycamore could casually toss out around 9k damage at base, with no concerns.  Erika, if she landed a special defense drop, suddenly produces well over 10k damage ranges.  I think his last shot on center hit for like 12k.  This was at +4 special attack, because I messed up Barry's actions and he died early.  EX Erika is also a treat.  Sure, she missed sync crit and also only had +4 Sp Atk, but hitting the Light Screen for 10k damage isn't bad.  Were I smarter or paying better attention, this would've been done on parameter 4, where the paralysis chance may have saved Barrold.  Oh well.
Vs. Drasna I was under the impression that boosted status meant boosted flinch rate.  I must be wrong, because Tate almost never hit a flinch.  I'm also gonna bitch out Giovanni a little: dude kinda sucks?  Like, I'm so happy to say that.  His DPS and sync aren't strictly bad, he has enough oomph behind attacks thanks to his ridiculous special attack.  But the multipliers being based on special defense debuffs puts him in a painfully awkward spot.  Lucian is pretty much a requirement.  When you do not have access to Lucian, you effectively do not have access to debuffs.  Which means...why use Giovanni when you can use someone who is bulkier, has better setup, costs nothing in gauge, and hits approximately twice as hard as his standard damage, in Caitlin?  God it feels good to say that.  I will praise MC Mesprit, though.  Dual Screens are ridiculously good, it survived so many repeated hits, and the boost to speed on its trainer move offsets Drasna's speed debuffing.  Absolutely love Mesprit.
Vs. Diantha Okay, here we go.  Finally, a Steel-weak stage.  BP Valerie was my favorite part of this update, and I haven't been able to use her on-type yet.  That said, Valerie is good, but not so good that I trust her to sweep a Steel stage with F2P partners.  So I brought Solgaleo, who...man, I think maybe I under-valued Solgaleo's grid expansion.  I know it's post BP Janine's EX sync, but 27k sync and 12k DPS?  Nonsense.  Absolute nonsense.  Valerie herself is no slouch either.  Iron Head's base damage is around 7.5k, which is entirely respectable.  With proper anticipation and use of swords dance, SEUN would put that in easy denial range.  As for Janine, I initially thought about Marley, who boosts team speed for easy selection of moves.  I wanted Team Sharp Entry too, to remove a trainer move from Valerie's rotation.  But Marley is very frail, and I realized that BP Janine can boost attack as well, and has evasion/speed boosting on trainer move, making her...frankly just better?  Even with just +1 gauge was never truly a problem.
Final Thoughts I feel like what types are F2P clearable has shifted weirdly.  Dark, Steel, and Ghost used to be types that were a nightmare.  Ghost at least had Giovanni's Shadow Ball, but that one took a hit when his sync no longer worked due to Standard Damage Reduction.  I feel like Dark is still a little rough because of Karen's recoil, but any single physical Dark addition with like Crunch from the Lodge would salvage it.
Yet in exchange...Psychic was the hardest clear.  Yeah, sure, Giovanni, but he kinda struggles with modern CS.  The survival is bad, and his damage isn't shattering records.  It feels like we don't have as many F2P options in some of the conventionally strongest types anymore.  It's strange to think about.
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strayed-quokka · 2 years
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sex is overrated || ji changmin
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» summary: you knew what you liked in the bedroom but men never seemed to take a hint. maybe it was your fault. or maybe they were just really fucking vanilla. nevertheless, your best friend is determined to prove to you that he knows exactly how to make a girl come, and you're no exception.
» pairing: ji changmin x female reader
» rating: NC-17 minors please do not interact with this work
» genre: best friends to lovers, ruin the friendship, smut, porn with some plot, a little fluff
» warnings: where to begin... dom changmin, sub reader, changmin is massive, fingering, oral (f & m), rough sex, face sitting, deep throating, squirting, spanking, spitting, unprotected sex, chocking, restraints (pink handcuffs hello whisper), face fucking, hair pulling, slight dacryphilia if you squint (?), degradation, a nude photo, marking, biting, scratching, mild bruising, creampie, changmin is an aftercare king though... i think i got it all but will double check.
» words: 5,051
» a/n: whisper. that’s it. also probably the filthiest thing i've ever written so i'm going to pour some holy water now and pg-13 my eyes a little... feedback and comments are greatly appreciated x
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Sex was always exaggerated pleasure. 
At least sex was never any good. Not good enough to justify laying naked in a stranger's bed before leaving early in the morning to go home. You weren’t sure if maybe there was something wrong with you, but they just all seemed to be so pathetically vanilla. 
“You look fucking miserable, jesus christ,” your best friend since a particularly terrible high school party a few years ago, Changmin, scowls at you, his hair unbrushed on his head and his eyes still tired. It’s surprising that he’s even awake. 
“I am miserable, Minnie,” he grimaces, grabbing another mug from the endless ones you both have (it may have something to do with your need to buy a disney themed one every time you see one), pouring you an extra large cup of black coffee. 
“I’m sorry angel,” he pouts, and you gratefully take the scolding beverage from him before adding some milk.
“Why are men so shit in bed? Why is sex so overrated?” the platinum blond young man seems unfazed at first, given that you’ve probably asked him this at least once every two weeks for the past year. He was used to it, and every time he could only offer the same few solutions. Tell them what they want, and trial and error it. It was never a one size fits all.
You knew that, but you were also impatient and in your sexual prime, and no one was satisfying you. You couldn’t remember when you’d last had an orgasm that you didn’t bring on yourself. Anyway, here you sit against the kitchen island with disappointment pulling all your features down, and your best friend sighs, “go shower. We can talk about it after.”
You listen to him. Changmin was probably the only man on this entire planet that you rarely if ever argued with. He just understood you, sometimes it made you even wonder if he read your journal, because how the hell did he just get it?
“Minnie, can I ask you a question?” you ask, brushing through your wet hair as the man looks at you when you come back into the room refreshed. You’re wearing his shirt again, legs bare, and he wishes he wasn’t so perfectly willing to give them all to you as if they belonged in your wardrobe more than in his. 
“Sure,” you put the brush down, thinking the question over in your mind before deciding to ask it anyway.
“Do you think you’re good in bed?”
It was probably the worst moment in time for Changmin to take a sip of his coffee, for now he was left choking and coughing horrifically while you reached around to pat his back. He was trying to remember in his mind if you’d ever asked him a question quite like this, but quickly determined that this may’ve been the boldest thing he’d ever been asked by you. 
It’s not that Changmin necessarily kept his sex life a secret from you, nor did you keep yours hidden, but you’d never directly asked him if he actually thought he was any good. 
“Are you asking me in hopes I say yes so you don’t entirely give up on your sexcapades?” 
You huff, crossing your arms as you lean against the counter across from him, “at least tell me you know how to make a girl come. That’s enough for me.”
He doesn’t know if the temperature in the room has risen or if he’s just warmer, but the vulgarity in which you ask makes him feel weaker. That being said, he liked to believe that he could confidently tell you that he could, and that it wouldn’t be a lie, “Are you telling me you’ve never once heard me had sex?”
Now it’s your turn to blush, turning your head away from him to stare at the wall ahead, “I mean… I wasn’t going to say it and embarrass you.” 
He likes this push and pull, the teasing nature that your question brought, and there’s something about you becoming more shy that makes him more confident, “you tell me then.”
He got you there. Not only had you heard some of the girls he’d been with, but they’d been more than vocal. Honestly, you couldn’t imagine ever being that loud, but then again, no one ever did anything that made you feel the need to scream.
“I have another question,” you start, and he nods as his lips turn upward into a grin, his deep dimples on full display for you. He’s nothing short of charming and sweet.
“You’re full of those today, aren’t you?”
“You sure they never faked it?”
Changmin can remember the few times he’s been rendered speechless, but none even came close to the way he falters now. He guesses there wasn’t ever a way of truly knowing, but it had been a long time since he felt like a girl wasn’t genuine with him. Honestly, the last time was probably back when he was still incredibly inexperienced. 
“Want to find out for yourself?” it’s an invitation that he doesn’t quite realise he’s given before it’s already too late, but he’s grateful that his voice always holds a hint of teasing so that if you completely turned away in disgust, he could somehow get away with it being a joke.
Both of you stand there silently, and Changmin is close to apologising for maybe crossing a line with you, but you cut him off first. 
“Okay,” he thinks he’s going crazy, like he’s hallucinating and losing his mind, but you don’t seem to back down, “but we should lay some ground rules first.”
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Changmin didn’t know what he’d done in his life that resulted in him sat across from you at the dinner table with a notebook in front of him and a blue pen in hand writing down a list of what the two of you should be in agreement with before you’d have sex.
It sounded ridiculous, but he guessed this is how most friendships fell apart. There was always a risk involved. 
“Alright, let me see it,” he turns the notebook around towards you, and you read it all outloud one by one, pausing in-between to see if he has any objections or anything to add.
“If one of us feels uncomfortable we stop, no questions asked. If one of us catches feelings, we stop with no ill will and we won’t talk about it unless the person is okay with it. Traffic light system if ever necessary with tapping system if…” you pause, swallowing, “if traffic system can’t be used.”
Honestly, it makes you wonder what the hell you two may get up to, and it definitely makes you wonder if you should really be doing this. Changmin seems to see it too, the way you hesitate, “we don’t have to-”
“I know,” but you want to, “Minnie?”
“Hmm?”
“You remember what I like, right?”
“I mean… I know what you complain about when you come home unsatisfied, if that’s what you’re on about,” you nod, looking at the way his face illuminates with the dimmed light in the room. He’s beautiful. You've always thought it, but never had it been more than surface level admiration.
“Alright so…” this doesn’t feel natural. Maybe you need alcohol, but you also don’t want it to intoxicate your mind and hinder coherent thoughts. You just don’t know how to go about this. 
Changmin stands up, his chair dragging along the wooden floor when he does, “I mean… you’re free now, right?” 
It makes you laugh, getting up to briefly put your long empty mug in the sink before you jump up on the counter. His shirt rises with your movements and he moves closer to you instantly, already asking the next question, “can I kiss you?”
“Yeah,” he waits an agonisingly long time before his eyes flutter closed and his lips fall onto yours, but it’s enough to make you wonder why the hell you both took so long to do this. He’s good at kissing you, quick with changing pace so that you don’t get bored and rough with his hands on your body. It’s exactly what you’d want, and you wonder if maybe Changmin paid even more attention to the things you’d carelessly said in the past than you thought. 
You moan against his lips, and he slips his tongue into your mouth and roughly tugs at your hair, pulling you closer to the edge of the counter as your legs part for him to stand between. It drives you wild, and you feel just a little pathetic with how good you feel from something as simple as a kiss.
“You have no idea what you’ve done,” he pants against your lips, pushing the fabric you’re wearing up above your hips, your lace black panties in full view for him and the man nearly falls to his knees for you then. There’s something about you that works similarly to a drug, and he can’t wait another second before he strips your (well, his), shirt off and throws it to the floor. 
“Fuck,” he’s eyeing you hungrily, and normally such a gaze at your bare body may leave you wanting to cover up. But the way Changmin looks at you is so desperate and hungry that you blurt out the next words before you’ve thought of it. 
“Take a picture,” he can’t believe his luck, nor does he know what galaxy he saved in another life, but he’s practically tearing his phone from his pocket and fumbling to unlock it, nearly dropping it in the process. 
“Are you sure?” 
“Yes, Changmin. I’m sure,” it’s all the reassurance he needs, and the image he takes is enough to make his cock hard and strain against his sweatpants painfully. He throws his phone to the side, pulling his own shirt over his head and your mouth nearly waters at the sight you’re met with.
“Minnie…” you drag his name out in a whine, and he’s pulling you to your feet and practically shoving you down onto your knees in an instant before him. 
“Yes, angel?” it’s a mocking tone, but the very way he speaks to you causes your pussy to clench and your underwear to cling to your folds. The fabric teases your clit when you move and the stimulation makes you quiver. 
“Look at you, are you that weak?” you whine, licking the prominent v-line along his muscular stomach, before dipping your tongue beneath the fabric of his sweats. The blissful curses that leave his mouth and the grip he has on the back of your head is enough for you to pull the grey offending trousers down, his cock springing free.
“F-fuck,” maybe you were slowly starting to understand why girls were so loud with him. His cock was easily the biggest you’d ever seen, even to the point where you maybe thought that it was too much. Not only was the length impressive, but it was thick, enough that you struggled to wrap your hand around the base. 
“Are you dumb off seeing my cock already? Haven’t even fucked you yet,” it was degrading maybe, to have him insult you, but you wanted him to. His words turned you on, and you stick your tongue out and place the head of his cock in your mouth. 
You feel him grip a handful of hair, creating a makeshift ponytail as he steadies your head, your tongue lapping up his pre-cum and circling around the tip before you slowly try to ease him further into your mouth.
“Angel, you’re pathetic if that’s all you can take,” honestly, you’re inclined to agree. You’re barely halfway and your jaw already feels tense and your mouth feels full, but you try to relax and angle yourself slightly so that his cock pushes into your throat, “good girl.”
You cough, choking on your own spit and his cock but he keeps your head locked in place as tears spring to your eyes. It’s almost too much, but Changmin isn’t that cruel. He knows it and releases your head from his grip right after, allowing you to breathe. 
“I want you to fuck my mouth,” he’s stunned into silence at first. Truly, he’d never met a girl so eager to have his cock in her mouth, but who is he to say no?
“Oh… was that not too much for you… hmm?” 
“I’ll tap you three times if it is,” a pause, and then you look up at him, “I promise.”
He knows you’ll hold yourself to it. Even if he’d never experienced you sexually, he knows that you don’t go above your limits, so he trusts that you’ll let him know if you can’t take it. 
“Open your mouth,” you obey eagerly, knees pushing further apart, and he’s pulling your hair and yanking your head back so you look up at him before he spits in your mouth.
Fuck, he even remembered that.
He guides your mouth back to his cock, and you angle yourself again to push him deeper down your throat. You stop when you gag, and he only pulls back just enough to stop you from choking. He’s still at first, as if studying your reaction, before he starts to move. 
Changmin is relentless. Once he decides a certain pace, then that’s the way he’s going. He fucks your throat completely dry, and you only manage to get air for the second he spends pulling out of you before his cock stuffs you full again. Tears fall from your eyes and you moan, causing vibrations to hit his cock that only urge him on while you claw at his skin by his hips, trying to hold on to anything so you don’t fall over, scratching him until red angry marks taint his otherwise perfect skin. 
“You’re gonna swallow all of my cum, aren’t you baby?” you whimper, feeling his cock twitch before he stills, holding your head in place as his cum shoots down your throat. You savour every drop, falling into his arms as he pulls you up to your feet and then up onto his waist, “you good?”
“Y-yes,” you clear your throat, letting him carry you over to his bedroom before he sits down on the edge, shuffling around with you on top of him. Your clothed pussy rubs against him and it makes you shake, even more when you realise that he’s pushing your body further up, “do you need a break?”
“No,” he nods, resting his head on a pillow whilst you straddle his chest. You think you have a minute to breathe, but then his hands grip your ass and forcefully drag you up until your clothed cunt is hovering right over his mouth. 
“Min-”
“Hmm?” he kisses your thigh, and you nearly debate telling him that he doesn’t have to make you come. That you believe him when he says he knows exactly how to pleasure someone. Yet you’re convinced you’ll never get the mental image of him between your thighs out of your mind any time soon, and you’ll be damned if you let this go. 
“Fuck, I didn’t know you were so wet,” he chuckles, kneading your ass as he leans up and kisses your clothed folds. Your entire body trembles, and you wonder if you may have an orgasm right then, “all because of my cock in your mouth, hmm?” 
“Y-yes,” he pushes the fabric to the side, licking up your juices like he’s starved off the taste of you, and you feel your wetness drip onto his lips. You’re a moaning mess above him, only made louder when he spanks your ass. 
“You’re such a slut, hmm?” you want to agree, but just as you’re about to, his tongue finds your clit and you lose it, pushing down enough to wonder if you’re suffocating him between your legs. If you are, Changmin doesn’t mind, for he keeps the rigorous pace and only occasionally stops when the fabric of your underwear slips back into place. 
He growls, dissatisfied, and eventually he grips both ends of the flimsy fabric and tears it in half. Every movement he makes feels so messy and hungry, but you know everything is perfectly calculated. 
His ring finger teases your entrance while his tongue is still teasing your clit, lightly sucking the flesh, and you definitely know he’s calculating everything when he pushes his finger into you just as he lightly bites down on the bundle of nerves. 
“Changmin!” it’s rare, almost never, that you use his full name. Usually it’s when you’re angry, but in this case, it’s because you’ve lost most ability to think and say the first thing that comes to your mind. 
“God, look how you clench around my finger,” he swears he sees stars with how tight you are, pushing another finger inside you to slowly open you up enough for his cock, his rings cooling against your heat. A string of curses fall from his lips, knowing it’ll likely require some patience if you’re already clenching around something so small. 
“F-fuck,” you rock your hips against him, and he uses his free hand to press your thighs down, holding them in place as he laps his tongue back over your folds to where his fingers scissor you open, before running up to your clit. There’s a familiar coil in your stomach, but it grows all too quickly and without any warning while you desperately struggle against his harsh grip on your legs and his eagerness to taste you, “Chan- ahh.”
You briefly wonder if you may pass out, your entire body rising up though he moves with you, not once letting his fingers move even an inch out of you as he feels you convulse and shake above him. 
It takes him another second to realise that you’ve squirted on his chest and up along his collarbone and neck when you rose up, and your cheeks go incredibly crimson when you realise that you’ve left him a complete mess. But to him, he’s never felt more accomplished in his life, “fuck, you’re doing that again.”
His fingers slip out of you, and he’s incredibly gentle when he lets you lay there to recollect your breathing and become aware of your surroundings again. You could safely say that not only could he make a girl come, but he’d given you the most intense orgasm of your life. 
“Can I restrain you?” 
The question catches you by surprise at first, and it takes pathetically long for you to react at first, “what for?” 
“When I fuck you,” your eyes open, and there he is, sweating, still glistening slightly from your own orgasm, cock fully erect and dimples showing as he smiles. 
He looks ethereal. 
“Unless you’d rather stop for today? If it’s too much-”
“No! No, please don’t stop,” he chuckles, amusement dancing in his eyes while he reaches over and kneads your ass cheeks again, occasionally offering a light spank that causes your body to ripple against the mattress, moans leaving your lips. 
You may lose your voice at this rate. 
“So… can I?” You think about it for a second, before ultimately nodding and deciding it’s something you’d like to try. 
“How do you want me?” 
“God, you can’t just say that. I might die,” you laugh, at least happy to know that you affect him just as much as he affects you. 
“But to answer the question…” he comes up behind you, chest pressing into your back as his cock grazes against your ass, making you subconsciously push against him, “I’d like you just like this.”
He adjusts the pillow, ensuring that your head is well rested if your hands are going to be bound against your back, limiting the amount of support you can give yourself. What shocks you the most is how the handcuffs he’d fished from his nightstand are not only a bright pink, but shaped like a heart, “didn’t take you as someone who’d have that.”
“Chanhee bought it as a joke. Don’t think he’d assume I’d actually use it,” you chuckle, briefly thinking of your friend who really probably didn’t think much of it (or maybe he did know), whilst Changmin restrains your wrists and tightens the metal, “too much?”
“No… but not tighter, please?” Changmin obeys, doesn’t push where he feels like he shouldn’t and instead pushes your knees apart, your pussy coated in your juices and now in full view for him as he’d stripped you off your last item of clothing.
An item that you could honestly throw away. 
“Just tell me if you want me to free you,” but you don’t think you’ll want him to. Something about giving him complete control over you whilst he fucks you from behind makes you question your sanity, because you feel like you’ve never wanted anything else more. 
The tip of his bare cock teases your entrance and you whimper, especially when he stills “can I fuck you raw?” 
“Yes,” you'd expected an internal debate in your mind that never comes. You always used condoms. Hell, you couldn’t remember when you last didn’t, but you wanted to feel every inch of his cock inside you and suddenly that internal thought process didn’t matter. You were on birth control anyway. 
“You’re going to kill me,” he slowly pushes his cock inside your sopping cunt, groaning at how tight you feel. He was going to have to take it inch by inch, quite literally, and the very thought was agonising to him. 
“F-fuck… you don’t fit,” you’re laughing, and at least knowing that you’re amused has him relaxing from the thought of thinking he was causing you pain. He laughs with you, but it’s quickly lost as he pushes himself deeper inside you, the sound strangled in his throat, “oh my god.”
“You still have a bit more than half, you know?” 
“Shut up, there’s no w- mhmm,” he shuts you up with a rather deep push of his hips, splitting you open around his shaft, “now it’s about half.”
He’s teasing you again, but it’s so incredibly hot that you don’t care. You’re convinced that Changmin is the sexiest man in the world with the way he’s set on fucking you stupid.
It’s never taken you this long to adjust to someone’s length and girth, but it’s a good few more minutes of Changmin pushing a little more every time until your ass finally meets his hips, “god, look at you. You’re drooling.”
He chuckles, and you realise he’s right, moaning as you feel yourself clench around him unintentionally. He really has you forget all coherent thought, completely unaware of your own reactions “you can move.”
The platinum blond does not need to be told more than once. He’s been waiting to move, been desperate to, as he moves in slow and languid thrusts, like he needs you to feel every inch of his cock inside you, “mhmm, more.”
“Already? Can you take it?” You nod, feeling him hold your head down against the pillow, his other hand gripping your hip hard enough to bruise as he quickens his pace. You cry out his name almost instantly, screaming it over and over from the pleasure you feel, though it’s partially muffled. 
“How good you take my cock.”
“Y-yes,” you stutter, feeling a sharp sting to your ass, but before you have time to respond, he’s taken the same hand he used to pull you up by the handcuffs that bind your wrists, your back twisted while he grips your hair and pulls you back into his shoulder, “h-harder.”
“Still?” he groans, obliging as he quickened his pace, his other free hand going around your waist and to your stomach, and he swears he can feel his cock inside you with every thrust, “mhmm fuck… I can feel my cock inside you.”
“Fuck... oh fuck, C-Changmin!” you wish your hands were free so you could touch him, but instead you have to rely on him to hold you up as he roughly pounds into you with no remorse. The pleasure becomes overbearing, but it’s brought to its peak when he dares test the waters with something you’d only mentioned once as something you wanted to try. 
His hand that had been gripping your hair snakes around your throat, and at first he only squeezes lightly to see how you respond, if he should stop or keep going. 
“C-Changmin! G-god. Please,” you whimper, tears falling from your eyes once again from the pleasure and he grins, biting down on your shoulder. 
“Whore,” he groans, tightening the hand he has around your neck just slightly as he breathes into your ear, his grip enough to cause the oxygen in your brain to short circuit but not enough to make you feel in pain or like you’re in danger. 
If your hands were free, you honestly think you’d make him grip you harder, and you know you’re about to fall over the edge.
It’s your inability to freely move and the way he holds you in place exactly the way he wants you with his cock deep inside you that makes you scream his name one more time, so loud that you'd be more surprised if the neighbours didn't hear it, your entire body shaking and clenching on his cock as you mess the sheets with your orgasm. 
It’s the stimulation around his cock and the tightness that makes him lose control, and a mangled cry of your name leaves his lips when his cum spills into you, coating your walls and leaving you to collapse as he loses his strength to hold you, pleasured groans falling from his chapped lips.
You fall onto the bed, hands still bound behind your back with Changmin falling right next to you. Neither of you say anything, but both your heavy breaths are loud in the room as you try to collect yourself. 
“We should shower,” you whine as a response, because you honestly don’t think you can move. Changmin doesn’t think he can either, but there’s no way he’s letting you lay in the mess you made with his cum still spilling out of you. 
As absolutely feral and possessive as that makes him. 
Your best friend unbinds the pink cuffs keeping your wrists together, wincing slightly as he sees how harshly you tugged at it even with the room he’d left. He brings them both to his lips, kissing the faint bruising as an apology falls from his mouth, but you don’t want him to be sorry.
“Please, if you dare apologise for the best sex of my life, I’ll kill you,” he chuckles, and you reach out lazily to poke his dimples, smiling when he squirms. 
“I’ll get you ice at least,” he finally gets up, and while the muscles in his body scream at him, he lifts you up into his arms and into the bathroom, setting you down in the tiled shower whilst adjusting the temperature of the water. 
“Wait here,” you nod, sat on the tiled floor in the shower as the water falls onto you, though you find it quite comfortable. Changmin comes back not long after, a few ice cubes wrapped around a towel that he holds to your wrist, kissing your forehead softly while brushing through your knotted hair. He’s completely different now, caring for you, and your heart swells in affection for him. 
“Can I wash you?” you nod, and you sit there with him whilst he rubs your body wash over your skin and then his own, making sure you’re both clean and taking his time as he does. He winces at the faint bruising on your hip and around your shoulder where he’d bitten your skin, but you glare at him, reminding him not to think about it. 
“Don’t pout about it,” you remind him, and he nods as he slowly begins to massage your scalp with your conditioner. 
He cares for you so much, and you’ve never felt it more than now, still trying to recollect your thoughts while he ensures you’re okay even when his own exhaustion is threatening to have him pass out on you. 
He even makes the bed for you both while you just sit and wait, fluffing the pillows for him, dressed in a new shirt of his while he's just adorning a pair of black boxers, and when he reaches for you to fall into his arms, you’re more than happy to. 
You think with how you’re spent, you’d fall asleep in an instant, but instead you lazily brush Changmin’s hair from his forehead and kiss his shoulder. He lets you do whatever you want, watching you with a deep adoration and love, but it doesn’t scare you. 
It doesn’t scare you, because you know when you look at him, it wasn’t just you who’d failed at keeping your feelings away. 
“I love you,” he’s surprised to hear you say it first, but the warmth in his chest and the smile that threatens to slip just make you want to say it again and again. 
“I love you too,” you nestle into his shoulder, still lazily playing with his hair while one of his hands hovers over your thigh, the other behind your back, and you don’t think you’ve ever felt so content. 
“Also… next time, I’ll be the one leaving bruises,” Changmin laughs, and it’s a sound that brings you complete peace. 
“I’m holding you to that but..." he pushes the fabric of his boxers down past his hipbone, revealing aggressive red marks that you barely remember leaving. There's a silence first, before you lean close and kiss the broken skin, "oh, please don't do that. I'll want to ruin you again."
You oblige. As desirable as the thought is, you're both tired, and you lay there silently for a few more minutes until he breaks it to ask you a question that's been on his mind since your first orgasm, "still think sex is overrated?"
You throw a pillow right onto his smug face as your answer.
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well... i wrote that... i actually can't believe the ideas in my brain sometimes. also the resitance to switch it to another member because i'm weak for them??? guess we writing more boyz ✌️🥵
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2K notes · View notes
agentwhiskeysdarlin · 2 years
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Sex in the Stacks
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Pairing: Billy Russo X F!Reader
Rating: NC-17 
Warnings: Billy because he comes with his own warning, semi-public to public sex, exhibitionism, sex in a bathroom in a bookstore, unprotected sex, p in v sex, rough sex, fluff ish, cute times, y/n is mentioned once, light choking, is that it?
Word Count: 2k
Summary: When reader runs into Billy Russo at a bookstore her life gets a little more interesting.
Author’s Notes: Guess who's back? Back again. Not only myself but Billy as well. It’s been a minute since I’ve posted and I’m sorry about that. Life, you know? I still suck at summaries. Also I have something super big coming soon... Anyways big thanks to @clint-aww-no-barton​ as always and enjoy!
ao3 link 
  The New York chill was brutal. You crossed your arms trying to find a bit of warmth as you hurried to cross the street. You slipped into the bookstore quickly, the bell of the door jingling. The woman behind the counter looked up and gave you a bright smile.
  “How are you today?”
  “I’m good Macy how are you?”
  “I’m good! Let me know if you need anything.”
  “Of course.”
  You gave her a smile and started off for your favorite section to browse. You unzipped your jacket before sticking your hands in your pockets as you let your eyes scan over the spines. You removed your left hand, fingers brushing the top of a book and pulling it from the shelf. You flipped it over and read the back before tucking it against you and moving on.
  You did this for awhile, losing yourself in the stacks and piling up several books in your arms. You were lost in looking for a particular book when you ran right straight into someone, the books in your arms thumping to the floor.
  “Oh shit I’m so sorry!”
  Looking up, you were met with the most handsome man you had ever laid your eyes on. You gaped for a moment, taking him in, before finally remembering the books on the ground. You bent down, picking up the books quickly and he followed suit.
  “It’s alright. Hey let me help you. You were pulling a hell of a balancing act,” he chuckled as he stood holding two books easily in one hand.
  You looked at him again with amazement and swallowed hard. He had a foot or two over you in height and his hair was pristinely styled. He wore a suit under his coat and his other hand held a book with a finger marking his spot.
  “Thank you,” you took the two other books from him and pulling them back in your arms.
  “Light reader,” he motioned with his own book.
  “Oh yeah. I don’t plan to get them all, even though I want to. I have to choose wisely,” you let out a shy laugh feeling your face heat.
  “Well, I’ll leave you to make your wise decision,” he gave you a smile that melted you.
  “I’m so sorry for running into you.”
  “Not a thing to be sorry for sweetheart.”
  He walked past you and his smell almost made you melt into puddle on the floor. You turned and watched him, only to be met with his brown eyes as he turned to watch you at the same time. You whipped back around, smiling wide, your face heating. You made your way to the small sitting space near the cafe, placing your books on the table. Shaking away any thoughts of the mysterious stranger, you began to make your choices.
  After you’d finished agonizing, you quickly placed the others back in their homes, before starting for the front of the store. You placed your choice on the counter and fished in your purse for your wallet, exchanging small talk with Macy.
  “Hang on,” a voice made both of you turn.
  The handsome stranger stood behind you, holding every book you had debated over earlier in his arms. Your mouth dropped and he stepped forward placing them on the counter.
  “What are you…”
  “I’ll take these and the one she was going to pay for.”
  Macy looked at you with a smirk and wide eyes, before turning back to him and ringing him up. You stood there, mouth open in shock. She bagged the books handed them over to him and he turned, pulling his book from the bag and handed the rest to you.
  “I…you didn’t have to do that.”
  “You wanted all the books, I could tell. Now let me take you across the street and buy you a coffee.”
  You stood there still in shock, a smirk on this beautiful man’s face.
  “I…um…,” Macy nodded fiercely behind him. “Yes I would love to.”
  He let out a chuckle at your stunned expression, before the two of you walked out of the bookstore and across the street.
  “What do you get?”
  You gave him your order and he asked you to snag a table while he ordered. You sat and tried to collect yourself from the shock of the whole situation.
  “Billy Russo,” the barista called and you smiled to yourself.
  “So that’s your name,” you looked up at him with a grin as he sat your coffee down and sat down across from you.
  “That’s me. I’d love to know yours.”
  “(Y/F/N).”
  “Well it’s a pleasure to formally meet you.”
  He stuck his hand out and you shook it with a giggle.
  “You as well. Thank you again, for the books,” you took a sip of your coffee.
  “It’s not a problem at all.”
  He gave you a dazzling smile. You couldn’t stop the blush if you wanted to. The two of you fell into easy conversation until you realized you had been there for two hours.
  “Damn. You probably have a life other than sitting here talking to me all day.”
  “I have all the time in the world sweetheart. I find you incredibly interesting,” his eyes looking you over and you swallowed.
  “I am not interesting. You however, mister CEO.”
  He scoffed but his eyes kept tracing over you.
  “You are a beautiful woman, who loves to read and has good taste. Plus your coffee choice ain’t all that bad either.”
  “Now is that all you’ve learned Mr. Billy Russo?”
  “Oh no. I’ve learned so much more than that.”
  His tone had changed along with the look in his eyes. A dangerous smirk slid across his face, and you would have let the man take you right then and there if he wanted to.
  “We should do this again,” he spoke the words, you so badly wanted to say.
  “I think we should too,” you smirked.
  And you did. The bookstore and coffee shop became frequent places for the both of you. You would discuss books and life while sipping coffee. Today would be no different. You walked into the bookstore, giving Macy a smile before heading toward the back where you always met Billy. There he sat book open, eyes scanning the pages in front of him.
  “Hey,” you spoke softly with a smile and he looked up at you and marked his page.
  “Well hello there sweetheart,” he stood and kissed your cheek, your face heating at the gesture.
  “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting long.”
  He still stood so close, his book forgotten on the chair behind him.
  “Not long at all,” his voice was lower than usual and you looked up at him.
  Billy’s eyes had something different in them and they watched you intently. His fingers caressed your chin before he bent his head and his lips brushed against yours. It was unsure and soft at first and when he realized you wanted it, he deepened it. His hand cupped your cheek, his other one coming up so your face was framed in his hands.
  He was intoxicating and you never wanted him to stop. Your hands came up to pull at his coat, pulling him closer. His tongue brushed across your lips and you opened up to him letting him take full control. You melted, sure that if he wasn’t holding you up you would be on the floor, boneless. Finally, and reluctantly, he pulled away leaving both of you panting.
  “Was that okay?“ he asked, eyes searching your face.
  “Of course it was okay,” you whispered back, your eyes finally fluttering open.
  “Now. Are you daring enough for me to take you through that door right there, right now and fuck you?” his breathe fanned across your skin as whispered the words, his voice deep in your ear.
  You swore your knees weakened even more and you let out a gasp. Wetness pooled at your core at the look in his eyes. You threw caution to the wind and nodded your head. You glanced toward the front desk, hoping Macy wouldn’t come to the bathroom, or anyone else, and you let out a small laugh knowing she would get a kick out of this.
  Billy pulled you through the door, shutting and locking it behind him, before his lips were crashing against yours again. He didn’t start gentle. His rough hands were everywhere, pulling off his jacket, then yours. His hands snaked up your dress and settled on your bare hips. You let out a sigh against him, wanting more and wanting it now.
  “Please don’t tease” You panted as you pulled apart, lips swollen and red.
  “Of course.”
  Billy let out a chuckle and spun you around, positioning you against the wall. You heard the rasp of his zipper, before he jerked your panties down eagerly. His fingers found your center and he let out a groan at your wetness. Then he was inside of you to the hilt. You gasped and your eyes rolled to the back of your head at the feeling of him.
  “Now remember you have to be quiet,” he whispered, his words full of amusement in your ear.
  Then he started to move, rough and hard thrusts, pounding into you. You wanted to scream at the intensity and as you let out a small squeak, his hand came down and covered your mouth. You were a mess, completely, as he had his way with you. His other hand gripped your hip, angling your hips so your ass stuck out from the wall slightly. Anyone passing by the door would know what was going on.
  Billy let his lips fall back to yours, his hand moving down to your neck just ever so slightly squeezing. You moaned against his lips and he deepened his kiss. You could feel yourself getting closer and closer, the wave threatened to crash into you hard. Your hand came up over the one on your neck and you pulled away from his mouth.
  “I’m close,” you whimpered tears in your eyes.
  “Cum for me,” he growled in your ear, his breathing harsh.
  He kept the hand around your neck as he swallowed the moan you let out. He never once let up as you crashed into your orgasm, nearly drowning in the feeling. He stilled deep inside you and groaned against your lips as he came. You both shuddered at the feeling, holding each other close for a few moments, before he finally pulled away. Both of you panted and you closed your eyes trying to collect yourself.
  “That was a new one,” you chuckled, as you turned towards him.
  He tucked himself back into his pants and you bent to pull your underwear back up.
  “Sure was. I really wanted the first time I took you to be in my bed, but I couldn’t wait anymore,” he smirked, his fingers brushed your cheek as your eyes caught.
  “Maybe the next time can be? If there is a next time…” your voice faded unsure.
  “Oh,” Billy’s hand gripped at your chin, holding your attention as his eyes seared into you.“There will be a next time. I promise you that.”
  You both grinned and you shared more kisses, sweeter this time compared to the fever pitch of earlier. Finally the two of you moved to the door and carefully stepped out making sure no one was around. Billy collected his book from the chair and the two of you made your way up front.
  “Meet me at the coffee shop tomorrow yeah? I wish I had time today but…”
  “That’s fine Billy. I’ll meet you there.”
  “We’ll make it a proper date yeah?”
  “Oh? That’s not what we’ve been doing?” You smirked up at him.
  He let out a chuckle his fingers brushing your hair behind your ear.
  “Hmmm I guess we have. I need to take you to dinner though especially after…”
  You pulled him down, kissing him again, before shaking your head at him. He chuckled at you and pulled away walking backwards out the door. You watched him go with a smile so wide it could have broken your face.
  “Do I need to give you my bathroom cleaner?” Macy spoke suddenly, making you jump.
  “Macy!” You let out a laugh and she joined in. “I’m sorry.”
  “Do not be sorry, not for sleeping with him. I never knew you had it in you.”
  “Oh I definitely had it in me”
  You gave her a smile before looking out the door where the man had walked away, still smiling.
Tagged: @mswarriorbabe80 @all-art-is-quite-useless @whatevermonkey @whichdirection @pascalisthepunkest @all-hallows-evie @artsymaddie @vvpoisonous @not-too-tall-for-trick @audreyshepbvrn @noushbitesback @kaqua
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You something else i hate about Acotar?
Its the way family is portrayed.
Weather it be the IC dynamic or the Archeron family dynamic its just so fcking messed up!
Both the families revolve around one person (Rhys and Feyre) and the characters are judged based on how they treat/talk to that person. They are defined and labelled 'good', 'bland' and 'evil' with respect to that one character. Lets look at the IC first then we'll get to the Archeron family.
Mor is a girl boss, and "loves freely". She can tell Nesta, a traumatised child in comparison to her that she deserves to be sent to a torture prison from which she escaped and that can be justified by saying she is "protective over her family".
Now, I personally fcking hate Mor. And i also know that her being queer is a retcon but fck! it says so much about her relationship with her so called family. After 500 years she still doesn't feel comfortable coming out to them? Now thats saying a lot.
In acosf, Amren, Cassian, Mor almost everyone treat Cassian like absolute shit. He is their brother yet Azriel says that Elain should not be out in danger but its perfectly ok to put his brothers mate in danger? Amren totally treats Cassian like some jock whose acting out again cause he wants his dick in some bitch. Mor, don't even get me started on that dipshit. If she supposedly loves freely, she wud actually think about how it must hurt those she cares (feyre and Cassian) about because of the way she treats someone they care about (Nesta). Like the way the entire IC treat Cassian like absolute shit throughout the entire book. Force him to watch as they slut shame his mate, force him to watch as they put her in dangerous situations, force him to watch as she is kidnapped into a dangerous rite that can get her killed, force him to watch as the force her to seduce another man?
AND RHYSAND.
He legit treats Cassian like he is nothing more than his dog. He is a fcking general of the armies yet he treats him like he is a dumb hunk who needs to improve himself to be of any use? what was even the part of making him play courtier? who gave rhysie the right to "test" cassian? This is not the relationship between two brothers who are equals. This is fcking toxic if not downright abusive.
Also with the Azriel bonus chp. Instead of understanding and consoling how his brother, who feels left out (rightly so) and calling him out on his fck boy behaviour towards his sister in law, he just orders him around and pulls out his HL status.
And then with Mor, inviting her abusers into her safe place (Velaris), making deals with her ex-fiance who was the cause of said trauma, ( I highly doubt she's saying the full/true story bout that) that involves Eris to visit frequently. All this without her knowledge. He invalidates her? No wonder she doesn't feel comfortable coming out to them even after 500 years.
Now one could argue that Azriel and Casshole are brothers. And uk what yeah to some extent I wud agree with u. The only brotherly love shown is between those two. And uk why? Because the power dynamic is equal. They are both ostracised bastards. They are both powerfull Illariyans. They both hold High Positions in the NC. But Rhysand on the other hand? He literally pulls out his HL status all the time. He uses his power over his family members. It's doesn't matter that he doesn't like doing that. He still does it.
Mor, Azriel and Cassian all came from fcked up backgrounds but they didn't find love and acceptance among each other. No they found it in Rhysand. Their position, power and family only exists because of Rhysand. Because he deemed them worthy of being his family. And that gives him power over them. Which ultimately makes the whole concept of family fall apart.
I mean thats not the Inncer Circle, its the Rhysand Worship Circle.
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vivanightcity · 1 year
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Name: Didier Travert
Age: 33
Gender + pronouns: Man, he/him
Occupation: Media. Boots on ground even for his day job at WNS, where it’s mostly following around politicians or corpo press conferences, or at most, a bit of light espionage and breaking into corpo offices. Prefers his moonlighting, where being in the field means chasing down NCPD alerts, recording firefights and clashes, and what goes on behind them, all with his old cam. Written up and posted online anonymously. 
Cyberware: His left eye is a cybereye with MicroVideo and TeleOptic enhancements - but paid for by WNS and designed to be undetectable under most visual inspections to get away with discreet recording. Also has an audio suite with a recorder, scrambler and sound amplifier. 
Sexuality: Bi
He was sent out by WNS to work in the city after it became the ‘free’ international city it was. A hub of corporate control and even more rampant political corruption than he grew up with. In case the name wasn’t a tip off, Didi isn’t an NC native. He’s from Bordeaux. One of two kids, with a mother who entered into politics after a protest she helped organize, turned into a riot she also helped instigate, gained a lot of attention. When you realize you want to be a media because of riots and unrest, and you’re raised keeping your head on a swivel and not believing shit you’re told by authority, you grow up knowing you’re living in interesting times with plenty that needs bringing to the surface. 
Despite all that, Night City was still one hell of a culture shock. For most of his life, corps haven’t had a particularly strong strangle-hold on his home. Present, sure, but ousted in all the ways they show off in NC. Not allowed to be so blatant, so violent, so involved. Not that life is peachy without them, his early days as a reporter was just video of frequent physical fights and violence in government buildings over the most ridiculously mundane decisions. 
The cybereye and optical cyberware are all technically property of WNS. Meaning, if he loses his job, he loses the eye. They also get access to whatever footage is recorded from it, nearly immediately, uploaded through their secure net connections the second he’s in range, so he can’t record anything he isn’t happy with higher ups, or potentially, the general public seeing. Hence using the head mounted cam for his personal work. 
Earns a decent amount in his job, and came from what I’d call a middle class background. Not buy and sell you wealthy by any means, but he can buy you a very nice dinner without having to look at the prices. 
A big believer in the power of a brick, a molotov, and a large group full of righteous anger, to get things done. Wants to tell stories that make people care and pay attention, or show them that how things are, aren’t ‘normal’ or universal, and that they can change. Not that he sees that ever happening in NC, fuck no, he’s got enough sense to see a city that’s set in its ways and it would take a lot to shock it out of rhythm. Which might be why he latches on to Ivan, Adiel, and the relic, the second there are rumors. Maybe it wont be enough, but at the very least, the answer to ‘Where’s Johnny?’, would hopefully get enough eyes on the story to make a few more people question. Plus, come on, who could resist? 
My god do i ship him and River. They compliment each other so well. The two of them running into each other on and off over the years, and then it's when Didi's working with Ivan, tagging along on the first job from the Peralez's, and it's the first time they really connect on a non-work level. Then he's the one who runs around with River doing that quest line. Probably a good thing cause neither Adiel nor Ivan would let the kids win the AR game.
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teddy06writes · 4 years
Note
the quackity + karl irl stream but add y/n ✨ (and maybe sapnap if that's not too hard to write 😳😳)
quackity x karl x reader (I tried to Fit in Sapnap but it didn’t work with the way the meet up actually went)
trigger warnings: swearing
premise: you finally get to meet your long distance boyfriends in person, the stream that follows is WACK
(y/s/n) - your screen name
(y/n/n) - your nickname
“Blep” talking
‘blep’ texting
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
��WE’RE POPPING OFF! WE’RE POPPIN OFF!”
You roared with laughter, doing your best to stay out of the way as Alex and Karl started swinging guitars around.
~~
two and a half hours earlier:
You had gotten off the plane in NC, practically buzzing with nervous energy, or maybe it was the coffee you’d gotten on the plane, combined with the two energy drinks earlier in the day, but hey! it was a long flight, and it was already late.
It was nearly 10:30 by the time you got your bag, and pulled out your phone to check the new messages from Karl and Alex.
You had all planed to meet up originally at Karl’s house but then plans had changed when you and Alex figured it’d be cheaper to uber together, even if it ruined the plan of all of you meeting at once.
‘I just got my bag where are you?’ you texted Alex.
‘I only just got off the plane, I should get down to baggage claim soon tho’
You smiled, ‘I’ll see you them <3′
‘nerd’         ‘<3′
You stood against a wall, quietly scrolling through twitter as you waited, until a new message from Alex popped up.
It was a fairly blurry photo of a crowded airport, with a red circle drawn around one person.
‘that is you right?’
You chuckled, zooming in on the picture to determine that is was indeed you, ‘yup, that’s little ole me... stalker’
You looked up as you sent the text, rising on your toes to look over the crowd, trying to spot him, pulling out your camera you quietly explained what was going on and then:
“(Y/n)!” Alex emerged from the crowd, and immediately you grinned, throwing your arms around him.
“Alex!”
You pulled away long enough for Alex to ask, “Can I kiss you?”
Laughing you nodded, and his lips met yours, as your hands came to rest on the sides of his face.
When you pulled away Alex muttered, “wow.”
“That bad? Sorry.” You glanced down sheepishly.
“Not that-” he said quickly, taking a half step back, “It’s just- wow, you know. Like, we’re actually here together, and about to go meet up with Karl, and wow.”
You chuckled, “I guess that makes sense.”
He garbed your hand, “C’mon, I already called an uber.”
~~
The whole way to Karl’s you sat nervously fiddling the cuffs of your hoodie, occasionally glancing at Alex, who smiled back reassuringly.
You sent a message to the group chat the three of you were in saying you would be there in two minutes at which he sent back a long string of emojis you could only take to mean that he was excited.
The car pulled up in front of the house and you got out, thanking the driver as Alex got your suitcases from the back.
Quietly you pulled out your camera, just as you had at the airport.
“Why are you filming everything?” Alex asked as you walked up to the house.
“We’re gonna do what George could never.” You laughed.
“Yeah but the lightings gonna be shit, it’s dark out here.”
“It’ll still be better than George!”
Alex laughed, high fiving you, “True!”
Almost as soon as you knocked, the door opened and Karl came barreling out, tackling both of you in a hug, “YOUR HERE!”
Alex barley kept him from falling over, “Yeah!”
“It’s almost like we planned it.” You couldn’t help but scoff at the camera.
Karl grinned, quickly pecking at your lips, and then Alex’s as he let go of you, “I am so excited that you guys are here!”
“Woah Karl where's the consent?!” Alex feigned shock.
“Oops?” He giggled.
You rolled your eyes with a chuckle, “Can we come in? It’s cold out here!”
“Oh, yeah, sorry, come in, come in!” Karl quickly moved back inside, waving you and Alex in, “Sorry.”
~~
After getting your suitcases inside and being formally introduced to Shaun, Karl all but demanded for you to take pictures together, resulting in many shots that were blurry from too much laughter, but a few good ones, like the picture with the boys on either side of you, kissing your cheeks, which later went up on Instagram, and a picture of Karl, mid laugh looking back at you up on Alex’s back.
All of your previous anxiety was very much gone.
You laughed, looking at Karl’s phone as he showed the picture, “Oh my god!”
“That is amazing!” Alex agreed, leaning over you to look.
“It’s gonna be the stream announcement!” Karl declared, pulling up twitter.
You glanced at your phone, “Karl it’s almost one in the morning, no one would show up to a stream.”
Karl laughed, “You seriously underestimate the fans.”
The next thing you knew you were up upstairs, sitting off to the side of Karl’s streaming set up as Alex grabbed the guitar from the corner, “Karl you don’t even actually play, why do you have this?”
“Because I can?” He said absently, starting to set up for a stream.
The air was thick with excitement as Karl hit ‘go live’, and handed you and Alex extra sets of headphones.
Alex was still messing with the guitar, and you barley stifled laughs as he began to sing Country roads in a strange accent, and the chat filled with people.
“It’s pop off time!” Karl announced in a high pitched voice, making you laugh even more.
The face cam was turned on, and the yelling began.
After a few moments, and a couple more terrible bars of country roads, Karl grinned, “Everyone! This is, Quackity, our, uh, our guitarist for the day!”
Alex laughed, “We’re poppin off! We’re poppin off!”
“And (y/s/n)s here too!” Karl dragged your chair further in frame, “Welcome! Welcome!”
“It’s pop off central tonight boys!” You chuckled.
The alert box went insane as did the chat as Alex finally sat down next to you, and Karl stopped laughing enough to sit back up.
“Guys! Chill! You’re gonna break the alert box!”
You laughed again, “Yeah just tell your chat to stop, just knock it off, leave we’re done!”
Alex snorted, “It’s over!”
Karl pulled his chair closer to the desk, “Thanks for uh, being here, with the boys, uhh.”
He turned to Alex who was now essentially just spamming random chords, yelling, “I can’t hear you!”
You berried your face in your hands, trying to control your laughter.
Karl sighed and pulled his headphones off, “You know what? I’ll be right back, I’ll be right back.”
You immediately hopped seats as he left, “Hello chat! Hello!”
Alex leaned over, trying to grab the mic to pull it towards him, “hell-” part of the stand snapped, “Oh my god!”
“Oh my god you fucking broke it!” You yelled, pushing away from the desk.
“Oh god, hold on!”
He did his best to fix it, leaning in to talk to the chat, while Karl came back with another guitar.
“Why do you have two of them?” You laughed.
Karl grinned, “Technically it’s Shaun's!”
“OH WE”RE POPPING OFF! WE”RE POPPING OFF!”
You roared with laughter, quickly moving back out of the way as Karl jokingly swung the guitar at Alex.
Once you calmed down you caught a glimpse of the chat, “Guys I think you fucked something up!”
“Oh god!” Alex muttered.
“Wait- hold on- did-” Karl examined the mic, “Wait its unplugged!”
It took a few minutes to get things sorted out, and as Karl and Alex went back to yelling about popping off you spun around in your desk chair, “Pop off crew! Pop off crew!”
Things settled down again when you moved your chair back to between them, a sub goal was set for a height check, and you started to try and get things some what orderly.
“So yeah this isn’t just a Minecraft stream, I think we’re just hanging out, Popping off, you know, we’re gonna talk to chat-”
Karl began to laugh, and Alex tried not to chuckle as he said, “He’s laughing at you (y/n) he’s just laughing at you! What are you gonna do about it?”
“Listen man, I’m trying to get your fucking stream in order. If you just wanna fucking ignore me then fine!” You held your hands up in surrender.
“Well, I mean-”
Karl started to stand up, and you knew he was going for the fit check but Alex screeched, shoving his chair back, “Fuck off!”
“Wha?”
You laughed, “He thought you were going for the Hight check early man!”
“Dude it’s the fit check!”
Alex laughed as Karl sat back down, “Holy shit- cash app with the hundred tear ones!”
You giggled at the message, “They wanna see the height check! Who wants to see the height check? Who wants to see the height check chat?”
“No no no no! No height check early! It- it doesn’t matter, cause height is stupid, and a choice!” Alex struggled for words.
You shook your head whispering, “He just looks short next to Karl and he’s scared.”
“Shut up!”
~~
A while later, after both Karl and Alex’s stream descended into chaos or partial chaos, you found yourself tucked between them on the couch.
Karl’s fingers were intertwined with yours, and Alex’s head lay on your shoulder.
“I’m glad to have finally met you guys.” You murmured.
“Yeah,” Alex hummed, “Actually being able to cuddle is much better than the online thing.”
Karl hummed in agreement, “I wish you guys could be here all the time.”
“Let’s get a house somewhere.” You mused.
“Somewhere convenient for you two nerds to go to school.” Karl chuckled.
Alex yawned, “Somewhere near good take out.”
You smiled sleepily, “Anywhere with you guys is fine by me.”
Distantly a clock on the wall read 4:23 am.
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queensoybean0724 · 3 years
Text
Succession Chapter 19 (Karl Heisenberg/female reader) Resident Evil Village fanfic
Title: Succession Chapter 19
Characters: Karl Heisenberg, female reader
Rating: NC-17 for sex and language (blowjob, face sitting)
Summary: you discover a long lost relative has died and made you his sole beneficiary.  While flying to collect your inheritance, you crash in a village in Romania.
Author’s Note: I do not own the characters from Resident Evil Village.  This is a work of fiction.  Anything remotely similar to anyone living or dead is purely coincidental.
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter 19
“Mmmmm...god damn, pussycat…”
Heisenberg leaned back against the headboard, legs open.  He brought his cigar up to his mouth and inhaled, letting the intoxicating smoke fill his lungs.  He expelled the smoke, licking his lips, and looked down at you.
You lay naked on your stomach between his legs.  Your knees pressed to the mattress with your feet swaying carefree in the air.  You locked eyes with Heisenberg as your mouth slowly bobbed on his cock.
His gaze was cloudy with desire as he watched you worship him.  Your soft lips and agile tongue drove him absolutely crazy.  Groans and grunts flowed through his mouth.  
“Good girl...good fucking girl…” he moaned, moving one hand to the back of your head while he held the cigar in the other hand.  You giggled and spit onto your hand.  Giving him a look that held all the promise of sex and desire, you took the length of his cock in your grasp, circling your fingers around the base.  Slowly, you pumped his dick while kissing along the head.  The tip of your tongue nudged and flicked across the underside of the head and Heisenberg sucked in a strangled breath.
“Oh fuck, baby...do that again...god damn, that mouth of yours is fucking incredible…”
You felt an odd sense of power.  Being naked, between his legs, servicing him orally...there was nothing else on earth that made you feel more superior in that moment than sucking the dick of this strong, calculating, and confident man.
Taking the back of your head, he ran his fingers through your hair and started thrusting upwards.  You took him past your lips, relaxed your throat, and allowed him to fuck your mouth.  His moans and groans increased in volume.  You looked up at him as his eyes closed and he tilted his head back onto the headboard.
“Y/N...fuck...uh yeah...uh...uh...fuck, baby...don’t stop taking my cock in that sweet mouth of yours…”
Wetness pooled between your legs and arousal churned in your gut.  You were bound and determined to give him the world’s greatest orgasm.  Seeing his mouth hang open as his explicit words and filthy groans echoed in the room...and watching his abdomen clench and his bicep flex as he shoved his dick to the back of your mouth...that moment was better than any erotica you had seen or read.
“I’m gonna cum...I’m gonna cum...Y/N...swallow my cum, baby...swallow it all…”  And with a loud grunt, he sat up in the bed, his fingers tight in your scalp, and every drop of his release slid down your throat.  You had to remember to breathe through your nose and relax your throat because his hips continued to thrust uncontrollably.  He was on autopilot, his body carelessly chasing his orgasm.  Tears leaked from your eyes and you gagged as he slowly came down.
“Oh shit, doll face,” Heisenberg moaned, lying down amongst the pillows.  You pulled your mouth from his cock and, kissing along his stomach, you crawled up his body.  He took one last puff from the cigar and placed it on the ashtray on his nightstand.  You rested your head on his chest, inhaling the scent of cigar smoke, and smiled to yourself.  Job well done…
“Oh no, no resting for you…” Heisenberg growled, wrapping both arms around you and pulling you on top of him.  You straddled him, your knees on either side of his waist, and looked down at him in disbelief.
“You just came and you want to shove your dick inside of me?  Aren’t you sensitive?” you asked incredulously.  Heisenberg laughed loudly, his hands squeezing your hips.
“Oh, Y/N...you’re not taking my cock just yet.  Come on, baby...crawl up my body and sit that pretty pussy on my face!”
He pulled your body forwards with a loud grunt.  You let out a squeal as you pressed your hands to the wall and put each thigh on either side of his head.  His arms went under your legs and his hands grabbed your ass, squeezing and slapping your cheeks.  Lifting his head to your soaking cunt, he slowly pushed his tongue inside of you.
“Ooohhhh fuck!” you moaned, tilting your head back.  The tip of his tongue reached your G-spot and slid back and forth.  It felt incredible to have this man haul you onto his face and devour your wet pussy like he was desperately parched.  Your mouth fell open and your eyes closed feeling him shove his face deeper into your cunt.
The tip of his nose brushed against your clit and you let out another surprised shriek.  Your sensitive bundle of nerves rubbed against it again and in that moment, your body was on autopilot.  You rode his face, reveling in his tongue deep inside of you and his nose hitting your clit.
“Mmmmmm….” Heisenberg moaned loudly, shaking his head back and forth.  You sunk yourself deeper, wanting more friction, more sensation, more of this strong and powerful man.  His fingers sunk into your ass cheeks, pulling you down further.  Bracing your hands on the headboard, you kept yourself hovered above him, afraid that if you put too much weight on him, he wouldn’t be able to breathe.  He let out another growl and pulled his mouth away.
“God dammit, Y/N...sit on my face...fucking smother me…” he commanded, moving his hands to spread you wider and pull your hips lower.
“I...I don’t...oh fuck, Karl...what if you can’t breathe?” you asked between breathless moans.
“I can breathe just fine, baby...besides if I were to die...what a fucking way to go…”  And with that, he sunk his teeth into the left side of your labia.  You moaned loudly and let your knees slide on the bed, giving him what he wanted.  His hands gripped your thighs and his tongue licked from your entrance to your clit and back again.
The unbelievable way he was making you feel was astounding.  His mouth and tongue twisted, swirled, and licked every available inch of your pussy.  Your wetness flowed and coated his face, soaking his beard and chin and sliding down his neck.  Your inner thighs felt rough and chafed from his coarse beard, but the overwhelming pleasure vastly outweighed the slight discomfort.
“Karl...oh god, Karl...your fucking tongue...your mouth...oh fuck...please…Karl…” you yelled, grinding your hips up and down on his mouth.  Your right hand went back to the wall, your palm pressed flat.  Your left hand gripped the railing of the headboard.  Beads of sweat slid down your neck and to your heaving breasts.
Heisenberg growled and grunted, his mouth unrelenting.  You looked over your shoulder to see his cock hard and leaking pre-cum.  Putting your right hand to your mouth, you spit in your palm and leaned back, taking his rigid length in your grasp.  He let out another growl as you jerked his dick.
The two of you writhed, arched, and bucked on Heisenberg’s bed for several minutes.  He was relentless with your pussy, bringing you to the brink of orgasm before pulling you back.  You moved your fingers around his head, rubbing the sweet spots before squeezing the shaft, keeping him on the edge of orgasm.  If he was going to tease you, then two could play that game.
“Karl...I wanna cum on your face...please...I wanna cum on your tongue...grind my clit on your fucking nose…”  Heisenberg moved his mouth to your inner thigh and bit down hard, laughing against your skin.
“You dirty little girl...such filthy words flow from that mouth of yours...mmmmm...you wanna cum, pussycat?  Hmmmm?” he teased, circling his tongue around your clit.
“YES, KARL, YES!!!!” you screamed, tossing your head back.  You felt his hips push upwards against your hand and you squeezed firmly and let his movements take over.  His lips closed over your clit and sucked ferociously.  He wanted the both of you to cum together.
“Oh fuck...Karl...I’m gonna cum...I’m gonna cum...Karl...god fucking dammit!!!” you cried out as you ground yourself on his head.  Spurts of warm liquid hit your lower back and you knew that he had cum.  He was growling and grunting like crazy, his hips thrusting into your hand.  The quick climb of your orgasm shot through your body as you screamed, cumming hard.  Heisenberg’s lips continued to suck until your body quaked, then his mouth went to your entrance and licked you clean.
Your thighs trembled as Heisenberg slid out from under your body.  He turned and got on his knees, coming up behind you.  The steady hum in your ears and the shakiness of your body made you lean forward, pressing your forehead to the wall.  Heisenberg kissed along your shoulders, wrapping his arms around you.  You closed your eyes and focused on your breathing as he rubbed your arms, up and down your back, and pulled you close.
You leaned back against him and let your head fall back onto his shoulder.  
“Ssshhhhh...I’ve got you...I’ve got you…” he whispered, kissing along your cheek and down your neck.  His kisses made you shiver.  You turned your face and he kissed you deeply.  The taste of your wetness coated his lips and beard, which made you deepen the kiss.  His tongue tangled with yours and his hands gripped your breasts, massaging them.  Your hand went to the back of his head and your fingers ran through his hair.
Heisenberg pulled away, a self-satisfied smirk on his face.  He knew he had done a fucking phenomenal job between your legs.  You shook your head as you looked into his eyes.
“I’ve never sat on anyone’s face before,” you murmured.  
He chuckled against your lips.  “...and it won’t be the last time either…”
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kashimos-hajime · 4 years
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sawdust and plastic | g.t.
summary: you learn two things from your first real fight with goro. 1) he apologizes through cooking. 2) he hates it when they argue.
WARNINGS: spoilers for the gimme danger main job, swearing, slight angst, theye just communicating pairing: goro takemura x fem!street-kid!v word count: 2.2k
a/n: written with a fem!street-kid v who used to be a corpo kid. also dont yell at me but i rearranged v's apartment so the couch goes on all 3 sides bc comfortable :^) crossposted on ao3! enjoy :) 
part of the tales of a two-bit thief series
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Sitting down on the couch, you kick up your feet for the first time in what you feel like has been ages. From Jackson Plains to reconnaissance on the Arasaka warehouse, you haven’t eaten shit besides the yakitori Takemura had ordered at that booth which already felt like ages ago. It’d been good—better than the trash you’ve eaten as a kid so you don’t really get picky—but you can’t help but recall the disgust on Takemura’s face when he had taken a single bite.
“Sawdust and plastic.”
You snort, running hands over your face and tilting your head back. Stupid fucking Japanese man with an endearing sense of dry-humour and… zero tolerance for your cheeky smiles. 
Then he had to go ahead and bring up Jack.
His words, cold, callous, echo in your skull like a goddamn radio and you squeeze your eyes tight, raking your hands down your face and melting into the couch. No matter how much you wanna stop it, you can’t help hearing it over and over and over.
Grabbing the remote, you’re about to switch on a channel in hopes you catch something that cna take your mind off everything when there’s a knock on your door.
For a moment, you truly debate telling them to fuck off but then, there is a pause.
“V.”
Eyes widening, your body goes rigid at the sound of his voice.
“V, let me in before I look anymore foolish.”
In the back of your head, you tempt the idea of just leaving him out there, pretending like you’ve fallen asleep, but then you get up anyway against your better judgement. You drag your feet over the floor, picking up old takeout boxes you haven’t had time to clean up and tossing clothes into a hamper to make your apartment look more like an organized mess than the dumpster fire you know Takemura will scold you for.
When you reach the door, you let him in without a word and you note the bags he holds on, hoisting them over to your living room counter.
“What’s this?” you question wearily. “Goro, I’m not hungry.”
“I realized I must apologize for my harsh words.” Beginning to pull out the groceries, you walk over and peer inside the bag, frowning. All the stuff inside is cheap synth shit, nothing you haven’t eaten before, but you’re still confused as to what’s going on since you don’t exactly have a kitchen in your place, but then out of one of the thicker bags, Takemura pulls out a big box.
“For saying them?”
“Yes." He sets the box down before continuing with groceries. “Earlier, I told you if I had time and resources, I would cook onigiri.”
“With cod, or grilled salmon. Or umeboshi plums, because they were Saburo’s favourite,” you finish and he sends you a look that could’ve been a smile if his lips had curved more and his eyes meant it. “I remember.” Helping him with the big box, you cut it open and find a rice cooker within. Eyeing the contraption with an arched eyebrow, you can’t help but ask: “Where’d you find this stuff?”
“It was difficult. I had to lower my standards.” 
“Lowering standards,” you echo dryly, unable to help your empty smile. “Yeah. We do that a lot in grand ole NC.” He doesn’t seem amused by you even trying to help as you sit down on the couch, twist to watch him work. “Are you sure you don’t want me to help?”
“I am cooking to apologize. It would not be honourable for you to help me,” he replies shortly and you nod to yourself, turning back around to watch the news. Nothing about a break-in with the floats, nothing at all indicating… anything.
For some reason, it makes you uneasy. The last time you snuck into an Arasaka building, everything went to shit and it made its mark. The lack of visible ripples makes you feel like nothing’s happened at all. Like it’s all been a fever dream, and you and Takemura didn’t sit on that roof for hours, watching the cat, just… talking.
Jesus, you need to get laid.
“Still don’t know why you bother cooking,” you say. Takemura noticeably stiffens and even though you don’t see it, you can almost feel the way he manipulates the air he stands in. He has that power—pure corpo power—and you clench your jaw. “Why waste time on someone so lazy as me?”
“V—"
“Nah, my bad. Arrogant. Hell, you probably see all the takeout around here and think I’m taking some easy route to food.” The bitterness is enough to puncture holes in steel as you stare blankly at the screen. “After all, I dirty my hands for money,” you quote. Your chest tightens as you hear his voice echo in yours, the way he had said it so coldly. Stomach turning, you shake your head. “Not in the name of some fucking principles.”
There’s a silence on his end and you close your eyes, swallowing through the bruising in your throat, a telltale sign you’re holding back tears. Just the mention of Jackie makes you want to spiral and you take a deep breath, trying not to react.
For the first time, you think Johnny might be right.
“Damn right, I am,” a voice says and you open your eyes, gaze fluttering to the side to see Johnny lounging against your couch. You turn around to see Takemura’s moved to the bathroom, probably to clean rice… however the fuck you make onigiri. You don’t know. You’re too tired to care about food, or feelings, or anything. “Never can trust a corpo. They all want one thing.”
“I don’t need to remind you that I was a corpo kid, do I?”
“Not anymore. It’s about principles.” Johnny’s tone is wry and you scowl at him. “What? If there’s one thing you might be able to relate to is that you both have ‘em. His might be wrong as shit, but…”
“Yeah, whatever.” 
“Oh, don’t tell me you’re gonna forgive him. This guy’s got you wrong, V. You don’t waste time on people like that.”
“I don’t have time to stay angry with him,” you argue. “The fact is, I’m dying and he’s gonna be the only one who can save me.” Johnny sits up straight, leaning on his knees and you sigh, shaking your head. Resting your arm along the back of the couch, you fit your hand to your face, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Fuck.”
“Stop. Don’t do it, V. It’s not worth it,” Johnny warns, standing up and you wrench your gaze up as you shift your feet on the floor and lean forward, burying your face in your hands. “I can feel everything you are feeling, and if I have to deal with your indecisive debates on whether or not it’s worth it to become attached to this corp piece of shit, I’ll kill myself.”
“You’re already dead, Johnny.”
“Let me live a little.” He stands and edges around you as if he were real and you rest your chin in your palms, watching as his holographic imagine crosses you before glitching back into view again across the table. He sits down. “The truth is, you’re gonna have a hell of a problem.”
“I know.”
“So, stop.” Johnny says it like it’s so easy and you chew on your cheek as the faucet turns off and you turn around to see Takemura begin to leave your bathroom. His pale eyes catch yours and you turn around only to see your brain tumour’s gone and left you alone. It’s eerily quiet in your head and you stand, clearing your throat.
Takemura slips the clean rice into the rice cooker before closing it and you cross your arms below your breasts, squeezing yourself tightly. You feel bare in your clothes despite wearing your scuffed jacket. He regards you warily, and then he sighs, gesturing to the couch—a silent ask.
 You nod, stepping back and letting him take where you were sitting earlier. You retreat across from him, where Johnny was sitting and he glances around your apartment. You wonder if he’s judging even more of you, but then he looks into his hands, swallowing visibly. 
“V—"
“You’re not the only one with principles. Just because I kill for money don't mean I'd do anything for it,” you begin coldly, leaning back and studying him. “And nothing about my life has been easy. When I said you did what you had to do to keep food on the table, that wasn’t me judging you. That was me getting it, alright, Goro?” His eyes meet yours and you arch an eyebrow, scoffing. “Not my problem if you don’t believe me. Yeah, I oppose corps, because they ruined my life, and so many other people’s lives no one can count 'em, but that doesn't mean you're any better than me. You don’t get to make assumptions about me. You never get to make assumptions about Jackie.That is all I have to say.”
He nods, accepting your harsh tone and you bite your tongue, trying not to burn down the bridge anymore than you need to as you prop a foot up against the table. Takemura doesn't say anything for a hot moment and you think you've wasted your time. Your knee jiggles. He doesn't even look at you.
Then: “I must again say that we are both still grieving. We ache to lash out. That is why I said what I said, and why, I presume, you say what you say.” He steeples his fingers and regards you with those eyes, gorgeous in their own right. “I understand what I said was callous. You have been nothing but understanding to my own loss.”
“No shit.”
“And I understand Mr. Welles was your friend.”
“He was like my brother,” you correct icily. “He’s been there for me since the beginning, I—I can’t forgive you saying something like that about him so easily, Goro.”
He dips his head. “I understand. It is why I cook for you. It is how I best express myself." The corner of his mouth tugs up faintly in a mirthless facsimile of a smile before he exhales sharply through his nose, looking at you again. "I confess I have not had time recently to cook, but I will do my best.” Johnny’s link comes to life at the mention and your own stomach squirms silently. “We are in this together, V. I do not wish for you to be angry at me.”
“Don’t do it, V. Don’t take it.”
“Fuck off, Johnny. I’m starving.” Aloud, you say: “I’ll be angry for a while. Just… let me sleep on it and we'll see from there.” He nods and you let your arms fall to your sides as you sit up. “It’s been a long few days, so I just… I just want to not think about anything for a while, you know?”
“I understand.”
He says that a lot, you notice. 
“Thank you for apologizing, at least,” you continue grudgingly. “Thanks.” You stand and gesture vaguely around the place. “Make yourself at home. I’m… I’m going to shower and scrub this grime off.” Dried blood, sweat, dirt, et cetera. He nods and stands as well, returning to the tiny cooking station he’s made for himself. You head to your closet, managing to pick out a clean shirt that’s a bit big and a jacket you ripped off a 6th Street goon a few weeks back. You just picked it up from the cleaners.
Heading for the bathroom, you set your crap on the toilet cover before poking your head out. Spotting Takemura sitting in front of the table, carefully sharpening a knife, you wait until he’s noticed you staring and he prompts you silently to ask.
“How’d you even know where I live, anyway?” 
He turns his gaze back on the blade.
“Ms. Olszewski marked it in my map, should the need arise.”
“This was a need?” you ask, curiously sardonic. Takemura doesn’t smile back and again, you get that impression he either doesn’t know how or he doesn’t do it often enough to remember. For some reason, that makes you sad. "Could've left it well enough alone. You know that."
“Oh, come on, V,” Johnny murmurs in your ear. “Don’t wax poetics on this guy.”
You ignore him.
“I do not enjoy the thought of a rift between you and I,” admits Takemura. He sets down the knife and sighs, eyes flitting to you briefly. Your hand wraps around the doorframe and you press your lips into a faint frown. "I... I have grown used to you."
You nod despite the words punching into your chest. “I don’t like it when we fight either.” At least, that you don’t have to fight twice to figure out. Your expression eases and your shoulders drop. “I’ll just hop in. Help yourself to whatever you can find. Really.” He accepts your offer with another nod and you close the door. It locks and you press your back against the metal, tipping your head back.
“For the love of—“
“Shut it, Johnny. Just… just give me a second.”
And on one of the rare occassions that he listens to you, Silverhand says nothing about how your heart doesn’t feel like wrought iron anymore.
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crystalelemental · 1 year
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Well. That was…a trial. Top 100 for the moment though, thoughts and strats under the cut. Take this as both my clears, and a general guide for what works well where.
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Vs. Marlon I started with Marlon because he genuinely seems like the biggest bastard. Condition cuts Striker stats by like 80%, and he's got team Endurance on entry. That sucks, man. Your solution is to tech nuke everything, which is super risky, or to have multi-hit. It's basically a check for Dojo Gloria and NC Serena at that point, so hope y'all are whales.
(Un)Fortunately for me, I am. So I had Neo Champion Serena. I opted to go with some stall strats with flinch, as well as Lodge Adaman to top off special attack and otherwise wall. He did a pretty good job! Serena's function was to denial left, then focus damage on center. It won't be enough to KO at all, but it'll get you there. We actually lucked out here. I had the last sync go on the right to try a quick KO. It failed, so I had two options at low HP but not dead, as Adaman dropped. Meaning if I hit center, side would queue up a move, which it did, like a bastard. Thankfully, Serena's debuffing is hilarious, and the -2 accuracy paid off. Not doing this one again.
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Vs. Archie This likely would have been much easier with 3/5 EX Dojo Gloria. Much, much easier. But, I didn't do that, like an idiot, so here's this crap instead. Honestly, even EX Lana would've made this less stupid. The double damage could really matter. As you can tell, I had to tone down the difficulty, because Lodge Rosa is bad.
The strategy is reasonably sound. Dojo Gloria rapidly debuffs for Rosa's sync. Gauges are a little iffy, but prioritize Gloria and Lana and you'll be alright. That said, Lana is the ideal tank here. Sincerely, use Lana. Leech Life is super-effective against Archie, you recover a good amount per action despite what he throws at you. The stage being all physical also means Lana just blocks a ton. Lana is very, VERY good at this stage.
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Vs. Lana My greatest ally has become my greatest challenge. Seriously, if Marlon isn't the worst, Lana is. Lana's problem is raw offense. She's got high-BP moves with accuracy issues, that are rectified by +2 accuracy on entry. Combined with "no healing," this makes Lana a fairly significant threat.
SS Blue is a good pick here. He boosts defense, the primary consideration, very rapidly, and his passive healing sucks shit anyway. Team Endurance on sync is also incredibly helpful. I went with May and SS Lysandre, because Lys has all the firepower he needs under Rain and with an EX sync boost at his back. The strategy is to burn all opponents, hoping for +2 special attack from Team Shout, then firing Buddy move after the EX support sync. In my case, I gave my EX Lysandre second sync to quickly remove sides and consolidate May's DPS into Lana. It worked out.
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Vs. Misty SS Kris stays winning. Archie is probably overkill with her, but mine's 2/5 and non-EX, so we needed this. Eevee Lyra is for gauge issues, which this team otherwise struggles wildly with. Lyra's honestly great, because Tech nuke on center, to complement DPS spread. The sides will easily drop first though, and thankfully Archie's Origin Pulse compresses, so good stuff.
Misty's only consideration is that she has Hail and Blizzard spam. Shut down Hail, you shut down Misty. Her condition is no status, which sounds scary because it includes flinch and sleep so there's no cheese. But all stages have Resilience activate after recovering from a flinch, so raw cheese strats fail anyway, her condition is redundant. I think she's the easiest overall.
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Vs. Nessa Comparable to Lana, but with a few notes. First, I am running out of good, invested Water-types at this point. Second, Hilbert sucks in this mode. These fights are an endurance contest, boosting defenses is essential and he cannot do anything with that, so I had to rely on Marlon. Third, Kris' damage output in this mode is sadly lacking, so she needs another partner for offense. Eusine was that partner, not just because of spread damage, which...doesn't matter as much with her sync. But because of Buddy Surf's flinch. Two 20% rolls isn't much, but it's enough to block Nessa's first attack after sync and delay until Kris can finish the job. At 300 Strength, anyway. 400 was routinely too much for this comp. There's the possibility, albeit slight, that a 3/5 Eusine would perform better with just added Rain. I'd be willing to try it, if I had the resources. But I'm conserving.
Nessa is a pure fight. She has no conditions to speak of, and is kinda like a toned down Lana. Razor Shell has 95 accuracy, but she doesn't boost accuracy so it can miss. It won't, but you know. Nessa's biggest problem is Earthquake. It can really hurt sides. If she leads with it, you've basically lost already.
General Impressions With sufficient tools to actually meet these fights, this is...relatively fun? Like it's annoying in many ways, but this very much feels like an exchange of blows. Like, you know how Champion Stadium is more just "kill them before they kill you?" This is the opposite end of the 3v3 meta. This is the kind where survival skills matter. And it's interesting, because it means not just defensive buffs matter, but Master Passives matter. That damage reduction does stuff now. It's interesting.
I just wish it wasn't so rough. Like, the free Water pairs in the game suck. Water damage is handled mostly by Cyrus, who doesn't count. Hilbert sucks in this mode. Kris isn't too great either. May does alright for herself because Rain. Lana's good in one stage at least. Elio feels like dead weight; bad buffing and Sing is counterplayed. It feels very reliant on having some premium options to win with. I don't love that. And I love it less that the minimum for all rewards is 180k. And I extra super hate that they made a medal for placing top 10k in ranked. Fuck off, Masters. This is low importance enough I don't care, but consider me pissed. This better not lead to anything.
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f0rever15elf · 4 years
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They Were Roommates: Part 1
Modern!AU:  Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5  / Part 6 (coming soon) Pairing: Pero Tovar x fem!reader Rating: NC-17 Word count: 9,509 (I ain’t even sorry)  Summary: A dangerous night leads to an interesting living arrangement between you and one grumpy Spaniard. 
Warnings: Violence, blood mention, death mention, alcohol mention, food mention, reader in danger, oral (f receiving), vaginal sex, no beta reader, shameless use of the roommates trope
A/N: So this was gonna start out as just a fluffy little fic and then it turned into something a little bit steamier. I have lost all control of these characters, I’m sorry (not really). 
Masterlist |  Ao3
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You should have run. You should have turned on your heel and gotten out of there as quick as your legs could have possibly carried you. You knew better than to go sticking your nose into things that could get you in trouble, Dad had raised you better than this. But Mom had raised you with that tender heart and soft soul, and ultimately they won out over your sense of self preservation. And now here you are, surrounded by a group of brutish looking men who all reek of the cheapest vodka you've ever smelt. The contents of your stomach churn as they banter, joking about all of the things they were going to do to you, and tears threaten to spill from your eyes as you do your best to keep your knees from knocking together. 
You should have walked the other way. 
But the man on the ground was being beaten. Five on one was hardly ever a fair fight, no matter how strong and rugged the one seemed. And so you had yelled out to get their attention, telling them to back off. And it got their attention alright. The new target was you, and they wasted no time in cornering you against the brick wall. 
"Please, please just let me go. You can have everything in my purse, and I won't tell anyone about this. Please..." You hate the way your voice sounds when you beg, but if it meant surviving, your pride could take the compromise. The one you could only assume was the ringleader barked out an obnoxious sounding laugh and shook his head. 
"No can do toots. We were getting bored with our little punching bag over there. You showed up at just the right time." The four other goons all chuckle and make various sounds of agreement, closing the circle in on your tighter. Your mouth is dry as the Sahara when you try to swallow and your ears are beginning to ring. 
"P...Please don't do this..." you manage to squeak out as the leader slinks up in front of you, bracing a hand by your head as he stares at you with feral eyes. You close your eyes tightly, trying to shrink away from the stink of cheap booze on his breath when a sharp crack from behind the leader breaks the tension. Your eyes snap open to see the man who they were beating standing there with a short piece of pipe clutched in his hands. In front of him, one of the men lay crumpled and motionless on the ground, red staining the ground around his head. Your stomach couldn't take it any more and you double over, emptying the contents of your stomach right onto the ringleader's shoes. Sputtering and gasping for breath you stand back up as the remaining four descend on the dark haired man, leaving you your opportunity to escape. Dark eyes catch yours for a brief moment before the man nods, swinging his pipe again. You decide that's your cue, and turn tail, taking off into the night.
----
The next morning, the blaring sound of your alarm rouses you from a restless sleep. Resisting the urge to chuck it through your window, you instead turn it off, slamming it back down on the bed side table. Sleep had eluded you in favor of nightmares of the men cornering you. Even in your dreams the smell of alcohol was sharp and nauseating. With a groan and a sigh, you toss back the covers and stumble into the bathroom. 
"...I look like shit." The reflection stares back at you with sunken eyes surrounded in dark circles, her hair an absolute mess. 'Death warmed over' is how your mom would word it, and to be honest, it pretty accurately describes how you're feeling this morning. Did you really need to go to work today? One more glance in the mirror and you decide that is a firm "No." Marcy would understand when you call her about it, you know she would. "I should get cleaned up, at least," you mutter, quickly going about your morning routine. 
The shower certainly helped, and with a little under-eye concealer the bags were mostly hidden. Mostly. Today was a me day, you decide, grabbing your purse and heading out the door. First order of business? Caffeine. 
The little coffee shop down the street was your favorite spot for a decent cup of coffee, and the owners were always so sweet. As the bells in the doorway chimed over your head, Samael, the owner, looked up to greet you, smiling as he recognized you instantly. 
"Well, well, well! Good morning to our favorite regular!" 
"Morning Sam. How are you and Anita doing?" You smile as you approach the counter, already digging out your wallet. 
"Well, today. A bit of a busy morning, but busy is a good thing! Will it be your usual today?"
"Please, with an extra espresso shot."
"Long night?"
"You have no idea." Sam just chuckles and shakes his head, ringing you up before going to make your order, muttering something about what it is to be young as he does. 
With your artificial energy securely in your hands, you make your way outside. The sun was shining brightly today, and a cool breeze kissed your skin, beckoning you to spend time enjoying it. The park it is. Lost in your own thoughts, you didn't even notice the man making his way towards you until it was too late. A hiss leaves your lips as hot coffee drenches the front of your blouse, causing you to jump back. "Son of a-! I am so so sorry!" You look up to see who had been unfortunate enough to wear the other half of your drink and your heart nearly stopped in your chest. "It's...you..." 
"Clumsy," he mutters under his breath before scowling back up to you. "You should be more careful." A heat rises in your cheeks and you clear your throat, readjusting your bag on your shoulder. He had an accent, you noticed. Spanish, perhaps? Regardless, it sounded wonderful coming off of his lips, and almost didn’t match the irritated look he wore. 
"I'm honestly really sorry about that, I wasn't paying attention." The man just grunts in agreement, slipping off his coffee soaked hoodie. 
"Clearly. Like I said, you should be more careful." He stares you down with dark brown eyes and you get the feeling he isn't just talking about the coffee incident. In the daylight, you could finally get a good look at him. Dark, curled hair stuck out in almost every direction on top of his head in an organized chaos. His eyes had a hard edge to them, the edge of a man who had seen too much. His skin had an almost golden hue to it, but the most notable feature was the scar that ran along his left eye, now paired with a blooming black bruise. His lip was split and a bruise was creeping its way along his jawline as well. "It's rude to stare." 
The comment sends a jolt through you and you jump, clearing your throat. "Right, I'm sorry I just...You...you're the guy from last night, right...?" You lower your voice as you ask, worried about someone overhearing, though you weren't sure why. He stuffs his hands in his pockets, staring you down with an intensity that made you feel only inches tall. 
"Maybe." 
"...Thank you, then. For..." you wave your hands, trying to complete your sentence, but the thought of what he had saved you from brought a sour taste to your mouth. 
"We're even." His matter of fact tone catches you off guard and you open your mouth to respond, but nothing comes out, so you close it, kicking the ground. The whole time, his eyes never leave your face. 
"Did you, uhm, get those taken care of?" you ask, gesturing to his face. 
"They'll heal on their own." 
"So, that's a no then. I have a cold compress back at my place. A-and I can wash your hoodie since I got coffee all over it. It's the least I could do." What are you doing? Inviting a strange man over to your place? A man whose name you didn't even know? A man who literally beat someone with a length of pipe right in front of you last night? If Dad could see you now he'd be reading you the riot act for sure. The mystery man just blinks, considering it for a moment. "And I could make us some lunch...?" 
"Sure." Ah, so the way to this man is through his stomach. That's easy enough to handle. You offer him a gentle smile and nod, turning to head back to your apartment, and he follows just behind you, hands still in his pockets and grumpy countenance still on his face. 
The walk is...strange. Not necessarily uncomfortable, but there was a palpable tension in the air between the two of you, and it was clear this man was not going to be initiating any form of conversation. Clutching at your bag, you clear your throat. "I don't think I ever got your name." You look up at him, curiosity in your eyes. 
"Tovar is what most call me." You nod, testing his name on your lips. 
"Tovar...Spanish, right? That sounds like a Spanish name," you muse, and he just makes a grunt of affirmation. Clearly, this man was the pinnacle of conversationalists. The corners of your lips perk up at your own little joke. You offer him your own name and he nods. "Are you from around here?" The look he gives you absolutely screams "what do you think?" and you felt that heat rise in your cheeks again. 
"Spain. The Eastern region. Moved here about a year ago." 
"Well, welcome to The States." You rummage around in your bag, pulling out your keys to let you both in. You kick off your shoes as soon as you cross the threshold and drop your keys in the bowl you keep by the door. "Home sweet home. Pardon the mess, I wasn't expecting to bring someone home today." The man called Tovar was silent, standing in the doorway with an awkward hunch in his shoulders. "You can come in, you know. Make yourself at home. Ah, and I'll take your hoodie." He hands it off to you without question before slipping off his own shoes, following your farther inside. He remains standing, looking over the pictures you have hung over your walls.  When you return from changing into a clean shirt and starting the laundry, he's found one particular picture that he's picked up off the bookcase to look over and you feel your chest tighten.
"That's my parents." Your voice is smaller than you were expecting it to be, and Tovar looks up at you when he hears it before looking back at the picture. "They passed away a couple of years ago. Car accident." He nods, setting the picture back down. 
"You look much like your mother." His observation brought a small smile to your lips as you turned to head into the kitchen. 
"Most people said I looked more like my dad. But I appreciate the compliment. How do some grilled cheeses and tomato soup sound?" He grunts again, coming to sit at the bar that runs along the side of your kitchen. Mulling over what to talk about as you get out everything for lunch, you decide it was best to jump in head first. "What did those men want with you last night?" You hazzard a glance over to him to see him staring at his hand he’s resting on the bar. When he doesn't reply after a moment, you gently call his name and his head snapped up, as if you broke him from a daze.
"The leader owed me money." Now you're really confused. 
"The big one owed you money, but you were the one getting beat up? Isn’t it usually the other way around?" The first sandwich sizzles in the pan as you flip it before looking back over your shoulder. 
"He called his friends to...deter me from taking what I was owed." For some reason, the way he said that made your blood turn to ice in your veins. 
"Ah." What else could be said? It suddenly felt hard to breathe in the little apartment so between sandwiches, you moved to open a window, feeling Tovar's eyes on you the whole time. 
"That... sounded bad, didn't it?" You look back at him as he speaks up, and you could swear you saw a nearly...sheepish...light in his eyes. But as quick as you saw it, it was gone, replaced with that glowering look he always seemed to have.  "I just did some work for him, and he's shorted me in the past so I didn't want it to happen again." You nod, setting a plate and bowl in front of him, for which he thanks you quietly before hunching over his food. Walking around the bar, you set your own food down and sit next to him as he eats like a man who hasn't seen food in weeks. You pick at your sandwich, thinking. 
"Tovar...what is it you do?" You feel his eyes on you again, electing to keep your gaze on your soup. 
"You're awful interested in business that is not yours," he grumbles before taking another bite.  
"Can you blame me? This isn't exactly a normal situation." 
He sets his spoon down and sits back in his chair with a sigh. "I do whatever I can to make ends meet. To get food to eat. To save for a place to live." You splutter into your soup, grabbing a napkin to wipe your mouth before turning back to him. 
"You don't have a place to live? You're homeless?" 
"I am." That matter of fact attitude astounded you. 
"What the...How can you be so...okay with that?" He just shrugs. 
"It's how I've lived for years since I left the Spanish military. No job, no family, no friends, nowhere to go. I came here to see if I could find something else." His eyes leave yours and he picks up the spoon again, playing in the soup. You sat in silence for a few minutes, trying to wrap your mind around this. He was homeless, probably struggled to ever get a good meal which would explain how voracious he was when you put the food in front of him, and had no one. Your heart begins to ache as it always did when you were met with someone in need. 
"I...have a spare room..." The words are out of your mouth before you're able to second guess them. The look of surprise on Tovar's face as he looks up at you makes your heart stutter for a moment. 
"Are you offering it to me...? I can't pay you yet, I have almost no money." You shake your head and wave him off. 
"I'm not looking to make a profit off you, Tovar. If you need a place to stay, you can stay here for as long as you need. Just help out around the house. The nights are gonna start getting colder." 
"Amiga, you are far too trusting." For the first time, a smile tugs at the corners of his lips, oh so slight, but you're sure it's there. 
"I know, and my dad is rolling over in his grave because of it." The laugh that leaves your lips is gentle and light and is the closest thing to music Tovar has heard in a long time. Perhaps things would be alright after all. 
---
It’s been almost two months since you invited Tovar into your home, and it’s nearing a point where you’re finding it hard to remember what living alone felt like. Life with him was comfortably simple. He never asked for much, and did as you asked in terms of helping to keep the house clean. Tovar kept odd hours, a by product of taking odd jobs to try and start amassing some semblance of savings, and it wasn't uncommon for you to come home from work to find the grumpy Spaniard knocked out on the couch with the TV on Telemundo. And every time it brought a smile to your face. When he was sleeping, his face looked so much less grumpy, the frown lines smoothing out as he dreams. You would drape a blanket over him and turn off the TV before heading to your own bedroom to sleep. 
What you weren't expecting was after a night of working late to come home to the smell of popcorn. "Tovar..?" You called out, confused. Normally at this time, he was either out on a job or passed out on the couch. 
"Amiga, you're home! Good!" He comes out of the kitchen, a large bowl of popcorn in his arms. You set your purse down by the door, walking over to him with that puzzled look still on your face. 
"Work held me a little late today. What's with the popcorn?" He hands off the bowl to you before grabbing two beers from the fridge. 
"A celebration is in order." 
"Celebration? For what?" 
"As of today, I am employed!" You blink as a slow recognition lights your face. 
"The security detail job got back to you?" The excitement in your voice is unmistakable and he nods, proud. 
"I start tomorrow." 
"Tovar, that's great!" He nods again, grunting as he moves past you to the living room. 
"So tonight, let's watch a movie together to celebrate." He plops himself down on the couch, spreading out and making himself comfortable, drawing a chuckle from your lips as you move to join him. It wasn’t often that he acted happy, usually staying quiet and reserved even when you knew he was excited about something, so this was a welcome change of pace. 
"As you wish," you grin as you set the bowl down before settling in next to him, pulling a throw over your lap. 
"What shall we watch?" he grumbles, flicking through Netflix. You shrug, popping a few pieces of popcorn into your mouth. 
"Dealer's choice, gruñón."  He rolls his eyes at the nickname you had for him before settling on some Spanish flick you had never seen before, remembering to turn on the subtitles for you. Exchanging the remote for his beer, he settles in, turning off the light on the side table and plunging the room into darkness, save the light from the TV. 
You aren't sure when exactly you fell asleep, You really aren't sure when you ended up leaning against Tovar, and you are EXTREMELY unsure as to when his arm found its way around you. The only thing you are sure of is that this grumpy man holding you to him while he slept was one of the most comfortable feelings you had ever had the pleasure of experiencing. At least, that is what your sleepy haze told you. When it finally clicks that you were cuddled up to your roommate, your heart leaps into a sprint and you tense in his arms. You shouldn't be doing this. You were roommates. Oh my god, you were ROOMMATES! This was crossing all sorts of lines! Wiggling slightly, you do your best to try and worm your way out of Tovar's grasp, but the movement stirs him just enough that he grabs you more securely to him, turning you so your cheek presses against his chest. 
"Hermossa..." His words are but a breath on the top of your hair and you freeze, the sound of his heartbeat strong and steady under your ear. Had you heard that right? Maybe it was just the rustling of fabric. Yeah, that was it, the fabric. Heat was rapidly rising in your cheeks and the tips of your ears were on fire, but struggling too much more to get out of Tovar's grasp would surely wake him, and you knew he needed to be well rested for his first day of work. And so you choose to stay in place, cradled against his chest, the sound of his heartbeat strong in your ear, the sound that slowly lulls you back to sleep. 
---
You thought the morning was going to be awkward, but Tovar never gave you the chance. The sun's golden light pouring through your curtains is what wakes you, alone, on your living room couch. Sitting up, you wipe the sleep from your eyes, your cheeks getting hot again as you recall what you woke to earlier that morning. "Tovar...?" You called softly, standing up to look for your roommate, but only finding a note on the kitchen table, telling you that he had headed in to work with an approximation of when he would be home. He must have tucked you in before he left, and this thought did little to cool the heat burning in your cheeks. 
You slap your cheeks quickly, letting out a frustrated groan as you make your way to the bathroom to get cleaned up for your day. You were friends, that's all. Roommates. Sometimes friends fall asleep on each other, no big deal. So why is it that whenever your mind wandered to the thought of being in Tovar's arms, your cheeks grew hot and your pulse quickened? Why was it that the only thing you could bring yourself to think of was how strong and sturdy he felt as he held you to him? Why was "hermosa" said in his sleepy voice the only sound you could hear as you tried to go about your day? Looking into the mirror as the steam slowly starts to fog it up, you had your answer, proudly displayed in the shine in your eyes.
"...Fuck...I'm falling for my roommate..." 
And so, you do the only thing you can think to do when you find yourself bogged down in thought. You clean. Today was an off day for you, so you had all the time in the world, and the countdown to Tovar's return from work was quite possibly the longest countdown you've ever been faced with. All the better to clean with, you decide, throwing on some music. Working from room to room, you clean every surface that COULD be cleaned; counters, cabinets, walls, baseboards, floors...The apartment would be SPARKLING by the time you were through with it, so help you God. Tovar would inch back into your thoughts time to time, and in retaliation to the errant thoughts, you scrub harder or faster, as if the scrubbing would cleans the thoughts away. So absorbed are you in your cleaning that you don't even hear the door open, or the keys clatter into the holder. 
"Scrub any more and you'll need to replace the tile." You nearly jump out of your skin, letting out an embarrassing shriek as you wheel around, brandishing the bottle of cleaner as a weapon. You're met with Tovar's bemused expression, eyebrow cocked as he leans against the door jam of the bathroom with crossed arms. 
"Jesus, Tovar, you scared the crap out of me!" 
"Thought you heard me come in," he shrugs. "All I can smell is cleaner, have you been cleaning all day?" 
"...Maybe." 
"Why?"  You open your mouth to respond then snap it closed, fidgeting, still on the floor. You couldn't just tell him it was because you had been thinking about him all day, you couldn't make things weird like that. You were roommates, just roommates. 
"Just felt like cleaning is all." 
"Amiga, you are a strange one." He holds out his hand to help you up, his face still disgruntled looking, and you take it. Your knees protest and you groan, stretching as you make it to your feet. 
"How was your first day?" You ask, moving past him, oblivious to the look on his face in response to the borderline lewd groan you let out. He swallows thickly, following you back to the kitchen. He grunts as he sits down, rolling his eyes. 
"I work with a bunch of idiots." You can't help but chuckle, unsurprised at his response. Tovar tended to find most people to be idiots. "But it's steady pay. Better than the odd jobs I was working." 
"That's good. I'm sure you'll be able to take care of any of the idiots at work in short order." You flash him a grin before ducking down to put the chemicals back under the sink. "I was thinking paella for dinner. I splurged on some saffron and seafood at the store when I went shopping the other day." You pop up from behind the counter just in time to see the surprise on his face before it falls back into the resting grumpy face he wears so well. 
"You know how to make paella?" His voice is incredulous, and you nod, grinning. 
"I learned on a trip to Spain several years ago, actually. I just don't normally cook it 'cause my paella pan is really big and well, seafood is expensive." He lets out a grunt, sitting back in his chair and nods. 
"If you mess it up, I'll judge you forever." 
"I would expect no less from you, Tovar." Pulling off your gloves and tossing them under the sink as well, you head back to your bedroom. "I'm gonna shower then get started on dinner." He grunts again, and you don't catch it as his eyes follow you all the way back to your bedroom. 
Fresh from the shower and dressed in a pair of sleep shorts and a tank top, hair still wet down your back, you make your way to the kitchen to start on dinner. Tovar is nowhere to be seen, so you assume he's hiding in his room. The man enjoyed his privacy. Paella had seemed so intimidating  to you at first, but after having someone walk you through the steps, you picked it up quickly, electing to stick to the more traditional rendition of the dish. After slapping the lid on the paella pan and setting a timer for it to simmer, you walk to Tovar's door, tapping on it. You were just going to tell him that dinner was about 20 away, so you were surprised when the door opened. The sight before you took your breath away. 
He was standing there, shirtless in some loose hanging sweatpants that hung low on his hips. His hair was damp, the occasional droplet dripping from it to roll down the expanse of his chest. Your eyes drifted down for a moment, taking in his muscular physique graced with scattered, faded scars. 
"It's rude to stare," he states simply, but the smirk is evident in his voice. You snap your eyes back to his, your face on fire. His eyebrow is arched and the smirk is firmly on his face. "What do you need amiga?" 
"D-Diner," you squeak out. "Dinnerintwenty!" The words run together before you turn and all but sprint down the hall to your bedroom, slamming the door behind you. You lean against your door, sliding down to hide your face against your knees as you attempt to calm your racing thoughts. The way Tovar looked had been positively SINFUL, and your mouth is dry at the thought of how those drops of water looked rolling down his skin. 
"Stop stop stop," you chant, smacking your cheeks again. "None of that, noooone of that." After a few more deep breaths, you're able to compose yourself enough to dart to the bathroom and rinse your face with some cold water before heading back to the kitchen to check on dinner. You notice Tovar has come out to take up residence on the couch, flipping through the channels. He's apparently elected to put a shirt back on, and you'd be lying if you weren't a little disappointed in that fact. He must have felt you staring, because he turns to look at you, eyebrow still arched, and you quickly avert your gaze to the dish in front of you, grabbing a fork to test the rice. Satisfied with the taste and texture, you grab out two plates, serving up a large portion for Tovar, and a significantly small portion for yourself. Two months, and he still ate like a starving man every meal. You had no idea where he managed to put it all. 
"Dinner's ready, Tovar." He grunts, coming back to the bar from his place on the couch to take his seat as you place down two glasses of white wine before hopping into your seat next to him. You watch him anxiously as he picks up his fork, heaping a large bite into his mouth. You worry your bottom lip between your teeth as he takes a few more bites before he grunts appreciatively. 
"It won't be winning any awards back home, but it isn't bad." The backhanded compliment was more than you had expected, and a wide smile crosses your face. Satisfied that he enjoys it well enough, you join him in eating quietly. Tovar never really talked while he ate, usually too busy stuffing his face to get a word out even if he wanted to, so dinners were typically silent. You couldn't help the feeling of pride when he helped himself to an equally large second serving. As he sat back down, his knee bumped yours and you squeaked, drawing his gaze. 
"What was that?" 
"N-nothing, just startled me a bit is all." You cram another bite into your mouth, hoping he would drop it. 
"You're jumpy today, amiga." He takes a few more bites before he continues. "Something happen?" 
Oh, you know, just came to a realization that I'm falling for my roommate who I still know so little about and I can't get the thought of you wet and shirtless out of my head, but yeah, I'm totally fine....
Is what you wanted to say. All you were able to say, however, was a simple "No." He nods, scraping up the last few bites on his plate before clearing both of your place settings. You down the rest of your wine in a gulp, hoping it would still your trembling nerves. Tovar loads the dishes into the dishwasher before turning to lean against the sink, arms crossed as he stares you down. "What?" You ask incredulously. He's silent as he stares at you with that grumpy, inquisitive gaze, sizing you up like some sort of quarry. "What is it? Something on my face?" you ask again, unable to bare the intense silence. Eventually, he just shakes his head, pushing off of the counter to walk past you. 
"I have work early tomorrow, so I'm going to sleep," he states, continuing down the hall. The sound of his door shutting is followed by you slumping in your chair, resting your head on the counter. You bang your head against the counter a few times before standing up to clean the kitchen. Once all of the dishes are put away and the counters wiped down, you head down the hall to your own room for the night. A sound coming from Tovar's room causes you to pause. It sounded almost pained, so you stop to listen, concerned he might have hurt himself at work and didn't tell you about it. After all, it wouldn't have been the first time he had done something like that. You can't help the little gasp that escapes your lips when you hear him moan out your name, the shock of it causing you to stumble back from the door, pressing up against the wall adjacent to his door. Wide eyes bore holes into his door as your name drifted through it once more, laced with the lewdest sounding moan you had ever heard. 
Deciding you had heard enough, and feeling rather embarrassed for such a blatant breach of privacy, you bolt for your door, shutting it quietly. Your heart is racing, thrumming loudly in your ears, and your cheeks burn so hot you feel like you could combust just standing there. There could be no mistake, your name had come from Tovar's lips mixed with the unmistakable sounds of pleasure. 
...How the HELL were you supposed to sleep tonight? 
---
The next week or so, you try your utmost to act normally around your roommate, still preparing meals, or covering him with a blanket if you come home late and find him on the couch. But every night plays out the same once you’re safely behind your bedroom door. Those lewd moans lacing your name in his gruff, husky voice. The thought of them caused the heat to pool in your belly every time, without fail. You'd find yourself seeking your own high, getting off to the thought of him over you, moaning your name in your ear. God how you want him. 
There were times where you thought you had built up the courage to tell him that you had heard him, but as soon as those dark eyes meet with yours, all thoughts vacate your mind and you end up a babbling wreck. This was going to kill you, you were sure of it. 
The desperation and desire does nothing but mount the longer this drags on, to the point where even at work you can't seem to manage to keep your thoughts off of the handsome Spaniard sharing your small apartment. Word from your manager saying you're able to head home almost an hour early is a welcome reprieve and your home is a welcome sight as you cross the threshold before immediately making your way to your room, kicking the door closed behind you. Or, mostly closed, anyways. That didn't matter, Tovar wasn't going to be home for several hours. You'd be cleaned up and calmed down by then for sure. 
Shedding your clothes, you sprawl on your bed, slowly dancing gentle caresses over your skin. The pads of your fingers ghost around your nipples before you squeeze both breasts. You let out a quiet sigh as your eyes slip closed. Your imagination runs wild as you picture Tovar above you, his warm breath brushing over your skin, raising goosebumps along it. You shiver at the thought of him whispering your name against the shell of your ear, yearning to feel his stubble scratching against your cheek as he drags kisses down your jaw. 
Your hand finally dips between your legs, spreading yourself and coating your fingers in your own arousal before drifting back up to twirl around your delicate bundle of nerves. Your hips arch up off of the bed under your ministrations, wishing it was Tovar's fingers drawing these moans from your lips rather than your own. His name slips out before you can stop yourself, completely lost in the fantasy of your roommate pinning you to the bed, the image of him in just those loose sweats urging you forward as the heat coils tighter in your stomach, your fingers moving ever faster as you pleasure yourself. "Fuck...Tovar...haaa..." You hiss between clenched teeth as you continue to work, drawing yourself ever closer. It's when you imagine him whispering terms of endearment to you in his native tongue that sounds so good on his lips that you lose yourself completely, tipping over that precipice of pleasure with a long keen of his name, back arched. 
You fall back against the bed, panting as the waves of your orgasm slowly abate, leaving you in a happy haze as you get up to go and clean yourself. You're a mess, aren't you? Unable to think of anything but your roommate pleasuring you, which is definitely not what he signed up for when he agreed to your offer of a place to stay. You ponder how much longer this living arrangement is going to last. He has a steady job now, a steady paycheck. That, coupled with what he already has saved...he would probably be off to find a place of his own soon, and that thought made you sadder than you would care to admit. You can always ask him to stay, but would that be too forward? There was no harm in asking, right? He'd understand, right? Tovar was a bit of a grump, but he was at least understanding with most things....usually. With a grumble that sounds a bit too much like your roommate's, you finish your shower, getting dressed before heading to the living room, nearly hitting the roof when you see Tovar sitting on the couch, playing on his phone. He glances up at you when he hears your gasp, that damn eyebrow quirked up again before his gaze fixes back on his phone. 
"I wasn't expecting you home for another couple of hours, Tovar." You try to make the comment sound offhand as you head into the kitchen to raid the fridge for dinner ideas. 
"Got off early." Oh God, his voice was gruffer than usual and the heat was already pooling in your core again. 
"Well that's good. You've been working late pretty much every night since you started." You settled on just grabbing two beers from the fridge, bringing one over to him after opening it. He just nods, taking a sip of his drink. 
"They let me off because apparently threatening to break William's arm for being an idiot isn't proper etiquette." Your mouth falls open and your eyebrows raise as you stare at him. He looks up at you and you see the glimmer of humor in his eyes, causing your shoulders to relax and a smile to cross your face. 
"Tovar, I never pegged you for a joking man." You chuckle as you make your way back into the kitchen, pulling out the takeout menus. "I don't feel like cooking tonight, come figure out where you wanna order from, what do you want?" You lean against the counter, flipping through menus with your back turned to him, doing your best to keep your mind from wandering to the man sitting on your couch. You jump a little when a hand finds your left hip, the other bracing against the counter as Tovar leans up against you. Instantly your face grows hot and your mouth goes dry at the feeling of him so utterly close to you. The hand on your hip feels electric and you struggle to keep your breathing under control. 
"What I want, hermossa?" His voice is low as he brings his head down level to yours. "Are you an option?" Your knees give then and there and if you hadn't been holding on to the counter, you would have hit the floor. Tovar's grip on your hip tightens and he presses up against you, pinning you to the counter as you tremble against him. "Well?" he nearly growls into your ear, and you squeak out an affirmative as his nose trails a line from your ear down your neck to your shoulder where he places a kiss at the junction before nipping it gently. A shudder runs through your body and you're sure at any moment your eyes would open as you wake from this delicious dream. There is no way this could be real. 
You could feel him pressing up against your backside through your clothes and you swallow thickly at just how big he feels. Your imagination had not prepared you for this. The fingers of his left hand dig into your hip as his lips attach to your neck, sucking and nibbling till a dark mark is left. The sound he makes after leaving his mark is proud and dammit your knees just won't stop shaking.  
"Pero," he whispers suddenly into your ear and your eyes open. You turn your head to look at him, confused. "The next time I hear you moaning my name, I want it to be my proper name." His eyes were so dark and lust blown, they caught you so off guard that you almost didn't put two and two together. 
"N...next time? What do you mean next-." You cut yourself off as you freeze in realization. "Oh my God...you...you heard what I was...earlier you heard..." Pero smirks wickedly and nods. 
"You should really close your door, hermossa, if you don't want to be heard." His hand that had been resting on the bar comes up to turn your head just a little more, gripping your chin to bring your lips to his in a firm kiss that you quickly find yourself melting into. For as gruff as he sounded, Pero's lips were so damn soft. You crane your neck to press deeper into the kiss, drinking him in as much as humanly possible as you press your backside against him. He growls into the kiss as you grind against him, his hand letting go of your chin to run his fingers down your body, slipping under the hem of your tank top. Goosebumps break out along your skin the feeling of his calloused fingertips running along the skin of your stomach. In a sudden moment of boldness, you grab his wrist and lower his hand, helping to slip his fingers under the waistband of your pants and he groans into your mouth. Taking advantage of the situation, you lick up into his mouth, desperation and a burning need tinting every single action. His tongue dances with yours as his fingers rub you through the thin fabric of your panties, drawing a whimper from your lips. 
He's the first to break the kiss, chuckling darkly against your lips. "You are a mess. Already so wet for me. Did your fantasy do me no justice to quell that ache between your legs?" All you can to do to respond is let out a high pitched whine at his lewd question, grinding down on his fingers, desperate for that delicious friction. 
"P-Pero...Please..." Your voice is a whimper as you open your eyes to look up at him, the desperation in them clear as day. He leans in, grabbing your bottom lip between his teeth for a moment, pulling back until your lip slips from between them with a gasp from you. 
"I like the sound of your voice when you beg, maravillosa." You didn't think his voice could get any lower than it was, and the sound of desire that laced his words would have hand you on the ground if he hadn't been holding on to you. His fingers slowly slip under your panties, rubbing your mound before parting your lips to coat his fingers in your slick. "So fucking wet for me." You whimper again, nodding as you cling to his arm, grinding down your hips. A jolt fires through you as he finally swirls the pad of his finger around your clit, and you let out a strangled cry, clenching your eyes closed. Pero chuckles in your ear, nibbling at the lobe before moving down your neck to suck another mark as his finger rubs the most tortuously slow circles against you. You were losing your mind and needed so much much. 
"I'll beg all you want, please, PLEASE Pero, give me more. I need more," you keen, bucking your hips against his hand. Thankfully, he obliges, slipping a finger inside of you with ease and you let out a content sigh, grinding down against his hand. He curls his finger against your walls, searching for the perfect spot that he knows will have you seeing stars. When you nearly scream, he grins against your skin, nipping at his latest mark before adding a second, then third finger, slowly thrusting them in and out of you, meeting the thrusts of your hips. The stretch of his fingers is delicious, the bump of his thumb against your clit with every thrust bringing you closer and closer as your nails dig into his arm. 
His lips trace along your ear still, and he whispers to you with that voice so low it draws a groan from your lips. "I want you to cum for me, hermossa. Cum and let me hear my name on your lips." He punctuates his demand with a nip at your ear and you lose it, coming undone around his hand. Your walls clench around his fingers as you throw your head back against his shoulder, your arousal absolutely coating his fingers as his name pours from your lips as reverent as a prayer. He coaxes you gently through your orgasm with slow thrusts before slipping his fingers from you. When he puts them in his own mouth, moaning deliciously at the taste of you on his fingers, you could swear you were about to cum again just from the erotic sight. Your hands moving on their own, you grab his wrist and pull his fingers from his mouth. Looking up at him with the most innocent eyes you can manage, you bring his fingers to your lips, taking them in your own mouth. You moan at the taste of him mixed with your own arousal, running your tongue along the digits. The light in his eyes turns absolutely feral and he spins you around, reconnecting his lips with your, one hand holding your hips to his, one hand at the base of your skull, crushing your lips to his with a passion that literally takes your breath away. Your arms wrap around his body, pulling him closer to you as you drag your nails down his back, relishing in the shiver that runs through his body as you do. 
When he breaks the kiss to trail kisses down your jaw, you let your head fall back to grant him better access, trembling in anticipation and he forces your legs apart with his knee, bringing it up to grind mercilessly against you. The whimpers he draws from you only spur him on further. 
"P-Pero I need you. Please," you beg shamelessly, all rationale replaced by the burning desire for the man who currently had you pinned to the counter. The growl against your neck goes straight to your core as Pero drops both hands to your ass, giving it a rough squeeze before hooking his hands under your thighs, hoisting them around his waist, holding you up against him. Your own arms wrap around him, tangling in the curls at the base of his neck as he turns, carrying you to his bedroom. The blood in your veins courses with such excitement that you couldn't help the giggle that bubbles out of your throat. 
Gracelessly, he tosses you on to the bed and you bounce, grinning up at him like some Cheshire cat as he strips out of his shirt. You take your bottom lip between your teeth as your eyes rake up and down his figure. Taught skin covered corded muscle, something you know he worked very hard to maintain given how often he used the gym at your complex. He joins you on the bed, crawling up to you with the most intense look in his eyes. His fingers tug at the hem of your tank, tugging it up. 
"This. Off with it," he growls and you nod, nearly ripping the offending article from your body as he watches approvingly. Reaching around you, he quickly undoes the clasp of your bra, tossing it to join the discarded clothes. A hunger for you shines in his eyes as he takes you in, the intensity of his stare bringing a sudden shyness to the forefront of your mind. You shrink in on yourself, bringing your arms up to cover your chest, but he is having none of it. He takes your wrists, pulling your arms away from your chest as he looks up at you. "Hermossa, do not hide your glory from me." The gentle command sends a rush of adrenaline through your body and you nod, arms relaxing in his grasp. He lays you back, rough hands running up your arms and over your chest where he massages your breasts, pinching the nipples just hard enough to cause your back to arch off the bed before they continue down over your stomach, finally coming to rest on your hips. The feeling was better than anything your imagination could have possibly dreamt up. "How many times I have dreamt of this..." 
He leans over you to press a fierce kiss to your lips that quickly migrates along your jawline, following the line of your neck down to your chest. His stubble rubs deliciously against your skin, raising bumps along its path. Your fingers tangle in his hair, hips bucking up against him as he takes your left breast in his mouth, alternating between sucking, nibbling, and lavishing it with kisses until it borders on sore before switching to rain the same attention over the other. A whimper of longing escapes your lips and he glances up from his ministrations with a predatory grin before he trails kisses lower, over your naval and down to the hem of your pants. Greedy fingers hook into the waistband of your shorts, yanking them off with a quick motion, your panties along with them. The cool air on your core sends a shiver rocketing through your body. 
"Such a beautiful sight," he mumbles, his hands grabbing your hips firmly as he makes himself comfortable between your legs. You do your best to still the trembling in your legs, but to no avail as he runs his nose up the inside of your thigh, his warm breath sending tingles across your skin. He repeats the gesture for the other side before letting go of one of your hips to drag a finger up your dripping slit, gathering your arousal on his finger. The gasp you let out is one of the most beautiful sounds he has ever heard, and he craves more. He wants to see just how many sounds he could draw from those pretty lips of yours, but his patience is wearing thin, his self control slipping. He presses the flat of his tongue against you, licking the whole of you before spreading your lips to suck your swollen clit into his mouth, running his tongue around it in quick circles. Your hands tangle in his hair, tugging on it and he groans at the feeling, his cock twitching in his sweatpants. Your hips buck against his mouth, and he lays his arm across your hips, holding you in place. 
As he continues his ministrations, begs and moans spill from your lips in an endless, nearly incoherent stream, and each time you say his name he drags his teeth lightly over your clit, sending an electric shock through your entire body. Your moans grow higher and higher in pitch until you are screaming his name, tugging harshly on his hair as you cum for him the second time, spilling over his tongue as he eagerly licks it up. He pushes himself up and off the bed, licking his lips as he watches you laying on his bed, chest heaving as you try to catch your breath from your orgasm, eyes hazy with pleasure. He quickly rids himself of his pants and smirks when he sees how your eyes widen at the sight of him. Opening his bedside table, he pulls out a condom, ripping it open with his teeth before rolling it on, hissing at the feeling before he crawls back over your body, connecting his lips to yours. The taste of yourself on his lips draws a moan from you as you pull him against you, wrapping your legs around his waist. With a bite to your bottom lip, you feel him pressing against you. You break the kiss and gaze up into his lust filled eyes with a gaze that surely rivaled his own in terms of need and want and he hesitates, watching you. You lean up, ghosting your lips across his ear and he shivers as you speak. 
"Fuck me, Pero." 
You need say no more as your words start a fire inside of him. He presses into you and your head falls back against the pillow, your jaw going slack at the stretch as he fills you. With shallow thrusts he works his way into you until he is fully seated inside of you, his own body trembling at the feeling of your heat totally encompassing him. He groans as his head falls against your neck when your walls flutter around him, the stubble and mustache tickling at your skin. 
"Te sientes como el cielo..." He mutters against your neck, your pulse racing under his lips. 
"Pero, fuck, please move. Please, I can't take this." You cry as he snaps his hips against you, lifting his face from your neck enough to watch your face contort in pleasure as he sets up a brutal pace, fucking into you hard enough to shake the bed. Your hands find his shoulders, nails digging into the skin there which causes his hips to stutter for a moment before he regains his pace. Mutters in Spanish pour from his lips in the most gorgeous song you have ever heard as he ruts into you. When his hand moves to where the two of you are joined to rub aggressive circles against your overly sensitive bundle of nerves, you scream his name in a way that has his stomach tightening. 
"Won't...last..." He grunts, but all you can do is nod and cry out. His face falls against your neck again, stubble scratching at your skin. His teeth find purchase against the soft flesh of your neck and that is all you need to come tumbling over the edge. Your walls bare down on his cock and he growls against your skin, pulling you through your orgasm before his hips slam against yours, the moan of your name on his lips as his own release washes over him. He stills inside you, panting against your neck as he tries to regain his breath. Your arms hold him to you for as long as you can, worried that when he pulls away this would all disappear and you would be standing in your kitchen as if nothing had happened. 
After a few moments, he slowly slips out of you, propping himself up on his elbows over you to look over your face. His face still carried that borderline grumpy look, but the edges were softened, gentle. His fingers lift to delicately trace along your jaw and your eyes flutter at the feeling, leaning into his touch. 
"Of all the times I have imagined this very thing, nothing compares to the actual feeling of you..." You open your eyes to look up at him, your heart swelling in your chest. You open your mouth to speak, but once again find yourself at a loss for words. He gives the smallest glimpse of a smile before getting up to clean himself off, coming back to join you in bed. He gathers you into his arms, pulling the blanket over the both of you. Once again you find your ear pressed against his chest, the heartbeat strong and steady.  Your mind begins to race at the thought of what had just happened, and Pero feels you stiffen in his arms. His fingers trace lines along your spine in an attempt to soothe you, grunting in question. 
"Please don't leave..." you whisper against his chest, so quiet he isn't sure he hears you. 
"What was that?" 
"Please...please don't leave. You have a job now and you're making money and can afford your own place and I know I said this was a temporary thing till you got back on your feet but," You look up at him with watery eyes. "But I don't want you to leave...I want you to stay here, with me." He looks down at you with an unreadable face, his fingers stilling on your back. 
"Maravillosa... I would not do such a thing to you." His gruff voice was still coated in the honey warmth of his own release, and it warmed you through. "I will go nowhere, I swear to you."  At his words, you let out a breath you hadn't realized you had been holding, relaxing into his arms to let your cheek rest against his chest. 
Pero Tovar is not a soft man. He is war hardened. A man of few words. His face always borders on a scowl when he is awake, but when he looks at you, his eyes soften just a touch, the crease in his brow smoothing ever so slightly. Pero Tovar is a grumpy Spaniard, but he is your grumpy Spaniard, and that is all that mattered. 
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Translations:
gruñón : Grumpy Hermossa: Beautiful Amiga: friend Maravillosa : Marvelous or gorgeous Te sientes como el cielo... : You feel like heaven
Tag list:  @yespolkadotkitty​, @lackofhonor​, @cryptkeepersoul​ Tag list is open! Requests are open!
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