#takeshi kovacs gifs

[dirtbagdefender]

[nestito702]

Joel Kinnaman

As Takeshi Kovacs in Altered Carbon

[monstergifpacks]

Altered Carbon S01 E01

[that-sarcastic-writer]

Heartless

Takeshi Kovacs X F!Reader

Summary: you get hurt, and all you want is for Takeshi to comfort you

Warnings: explicit sexual content, minors dni, unprotected sex, p in v, fingering, multiple orgasms, hair pulling, choking, praising, bit of soft!dom!Tak, creampie, explicit language, mentions of murder, blood, typical violence for this show

WC: 4.5k

A/N: please I know, lia you wrote something??? Ik, fucking wild. Its been like 6months lmao. But I was rewatching altered carbon and man I really missed tak. I might slowly dive back into my joel era but for now this is this. I dedicate this to @a-reader-and-a-writer. If this flops oh well, at least I was happy writing it.

You often regretted your life choices. Stupid decisions you made as a teenager that ultimately led you into a world of violence and death. It seemed never ending. Because no matter how many times you tried to go straight, use your skills and intelligence for something good, your reputation always preceded you, and you would end up in the same place; with a gun in your hand, covered in blood, and with another body to add to your conscience. Though, ninety percent of the time it wasn't your fault. Just like this time it was not your fault. Trouble just seemed to find you. Or you liked to find trouble, or maybe both. 

“Ah Miss, what a pleasant surprise.” The AI that was this lovely hotel greeted you. “Oh. It appears that you are injured. Do you require medical assistance?” 

You looked down at your blood stained clothes and hands, you felt the slightest throb on your shoulder from where a bullet had grazed you, and the stinging burn on your side from where a switchblade slashed at your skin. But to be completely honest you had grown numb to it. You simply shrugged. 

“Nope. Just need a shower and some tequila.” You waved him off and you walked straight to the elevator, but before you entered, you turned around in your tracks to narrow your eyes at Poe. “Where is Takeshi?”

“Ah, Mr. Kovacs is not here at the moment. He left some hours ago to attend to some private matters he didn't disclose with me.” He answered plainly and you nodded. 

“Shocker. Well if he comes, don't tell him I'm here? Cool? Great.” You were about to go up to the room you used whenever you and Takeshi were fighting, when Poe spoke again. 

“Why is that? Wouldn't he like to know you are injured?” 

“Oh fuck, no. Don't even tell him you saw me like this.”  

Takeshi would go absolutely mad if someone spoke to you the wrong way. You still remember one time you joined him on one of his interrogations, for one reason or another. The man wouldn't keep his eyes off you, though you paid it no mind, you were used to men being nothing short of disgusting, or them calling you every sexual name in the book. But Takeshi? Man, pissed was nothing to describe the level of anger going through him. He didn't stop until the man was nothing but red. You, of course, while amused by his protectiveness of you, got him to stop. 

“Tak, sweetheart, you need him conscious and breathing, don't you think?” 

“He won't be doing much of either anymore.” 

Takeshi was cute when he was angry, more so when he was overprotective of you. But even then, there were some lines you never wanted to cross. And if he ever saw you like this, the thought of someone hurting you like this would drive him mad. No stack would be left unharmed by him if he had any say in the matter. 

So for the sake of the men you did leave alive, it would be best if Tak didn't see you like this. 

“Well, why not?” Poe pushed, clearly he didn't understand the level of insanity Takeshi was capable of reaching. 

“Because, if Tak sees me like this, he is not going to be very happy. He is going to actually cut somebody's head off—Again. Actually no, scratch that, he is going to decapitate and destack a lot of somebody's,” You said as slowly and as clearly as you possibly could, pausing to stare at the hologram as if to make a point. “So do not tell Takeshi I'm here, or that you saw me like this.” 

So much for wanting to stay out of trouble for once. 

~~~~~~

Man what a fucking shitshow. Truly, he didn't understand when the world had gotten so damn complicated. He didn't like to leave messes, he really didn't, but sometimes people would just force his hand, he had to get answers one way or another. 

He should call you. Yes. He should do that. If there was one thing in this fucked up reality of his that he knew would never go wrong, it was seeing you. 

“Mr. Kovacs,” Poe appeared at the bar, getting Takeshi's attention, but he didn't even bother to look. “I was not expecting to see you tonight. Were you able to attend to your matters?” 

“Yeah.” Was all he responded to as he walked towards the elevator. His eyes were glued to the ground as a cigarette hung from his lips, he was tired and annoyed, frustrated and even more tired, but something caught his attention as he thought about his own self misery. 

Blood. 

“Why is there blood here?” He asked Poe with a slight shift from apathy to alarm as he traced the trails of blood droplets back the way he came.

“Oh… Yes.. That… Well you see.” 

“Was someone here?” He asked with sharpness in his naturally baritone voice, looking around for anything out of place or broken, but everything looked normal. 

“No. Well… Yes.. But..” 

Takeshi’s head snapped to look at the AI, eyes narrowed as he stared intensely, waiting for an answer. 

Oh. It better not be. 

~~~~~~

Just get in the shower. You can do that, can't you? 

Apparently you struggled more than you should have with that. It wasn't like you had a bullet in you, but then again, you also had gotten thrown through a table, and punched repeatedly, and stabbed, and shot—kind of. But man was the pain starting to infect every muscle, every joint, every crevice of your body. You weren't exactly sure how you got out of the shower. But you managed to wash the dried blood off you. Though you were still left with two open wounds that were most likely going to have to be cauterized. 

You weren't going to enjoy this very much. 

You were hoping to just throw yourself on the bed and get it over with before Takeshi decided to spontaneously show up. By then your wounds would have been closed, what were two new scars? It's not like Takeshi would notice two more among so many. Or maybe he would notice, but by then it would have been enough time for him to be angry about it but not actually do anything about it. 

Pushing through the now throbbing pain shooting through your shoulder every time you moved your arm, you managed to get yourself into your underwear, but that was as far as that went. 

You had made it halfway from the bathroom to your bed when you heard your name being called, rather loudly, by a voice you were all too familiar with.

Well fuck. 

Takeshi followed the blood. There were drops on the elevator floor, stains on the buttons of the elevator. When the door opened, he followed the drops as his heart began to race. It wasn't a lot of blood, you weren't bleeding out, that was for sure, but his mind wouldn't stop racing. He called your name as he walked further into your room. 

His jaw tightened at the sight of you, slightly hunched over, holding your side as you limped across the room. And the look you gave him was one of deer in headlights. 

“Takeshi…” Your voice was hesitant, soft, wary as you leaned on one of the couches to support yourself. 

He was in front of you in three, maybe four, long, heavy strides. His eyes were frantic, darting all over as he looked over your face. Your eye looked like it was going to bruise, your lip split and your jaw looked angry with a forming bruise. 

“Who..” His words were barely audible, just barely above a rasp as he gripped your non bruised jaw tightly, forcing you to look at him. 

“Tak…” 

“Who the fuck did this to you?” 

You should not be getting wet at the sound of his angry words, but the rasp laced in his tongue had you clenching your thighs together. Takeshi was hot when he was angry. 

“It's fine, Tak. I'm fine, really.” You looked up to find his frantic eyes filled with fiery emotions, his jaw clenching and unclenching with each uneven breath he took. “You should see the other guy.” 

Normally Takeshi found your dry humor amusing. But he couldn't get himself to even let out a chuckle, instead he huffed as he looked over your face. 

“I want a name. Right now.” His words were barely audible, between huffs and puffs as he begrudgingly helped you sit down on the loveseat. You couldn't help but roll your eyes. 

“Can't. Kinda shot him in the stack.” You answered flatly, huffing out a small breath as you threw your head back over the armrest. Takeshi narrowed his eyes at you, noting each bruise and mark on your torso, including the angry looking cut on your side. 

“This wasn't just one person,” it wasn't a question, it was a fact, he knew that. He stared blankly at you as he waited for your response. The sigh you let out was confirmation enough. “What happened? And I want an answer without the attitude.” 

You winced, a hiss of discomfort leaving your mouth as he ran the laser over the large gash on your side. You closed your eyes, counting to five in your head before you answered. 

“I thought I was going in for a job. Something about needing access to some encrypted files,” You recalled what you had so innocently assumed to be just a simple hacking job, in and out with a decent pay, oh how mistaken you were. “The dude that had contacted me suddenly starts getting all up in my face, and asks me some weird questions about you. And when I told him to fuck off, his friends came out.” 

You shot him a glare when he silently moved to your shoulder, but that one was less deep so it didn't hurt as much, it definitely didn't hurt as much as when the bullet actually touched your skin though. 

“Why didn't you call me?” His eyes were sharp on you as he waited for your answer. Was he seriously angry at you?

“Oh right, and what was I supposed to say, ‘oh, hey sweetie, could you please come shoot some people I was doing illegal business with in the stack with me, pretty please?’” You raised your voice to a higher pitch, doing this valley girl accent which only made him inhale deeply. 

“Do you ever answer anything without the bullshit?” He muttered with exasperation as he angrily lit up a cigarette and took a drag out of it. 

“I handled it, Takeshi. Let it go.” You ultimately sighed, reaching over to brush your bruised knuckles over the side of his face. 

His eyes found your face, he saw the forming bruises, and he remembered the blood. Somebody did this to you. Somebody hurt you and he wasn't there to stop it. You could have died. He could feel the anger settle in the pit of his stomach and he began to feel the urge to rip somebody's stack out with his bare hands. His fists clenched at his sides. 

“Like hell.” He stood up so fast it gave you whiplash. You didn't want him to go. You needed him. 

“Don't go,” You stood up so fast your side was definitely screaming at you but you didn't care. He wasn't looking at you, his eyes looked way past your head at the nearest wall. But you grabbed his face, forcing him to meet your eyes. “I need you.. Please? For once just stay with me.” 

Please. 

You didn't beg often. But when you did, there was not a thing in this world he could ever deny you. He found your eyes, big mistake. The second he saw those pleading eyes he was done for. He hated the ways in which you could so easily tug at the strings of his cold heart. For the longest time he thought he didn't have a heart, until he saw you for the first time and that thing started beating. 

His mouth was on yours, he kissed you long and hard. He grabbed your face as he slipped his tongue inside your mouth. He held you, pulling your body against his. Your fist bunched around his shirt, gripping it like vice as he kissed you with fervor, like this was the last thing he ever wanted to do in this world. 

“You wanna take care of me? Hm?” You spoke softly against his lips, your fingers now threading through his long golden strands. 

The grunt that rumbled in his throat was almost animalistic. He wanted you on that bed and he never wanted you to leave it. 

“You're in pain..” He muttered through deep breaths as his long fingers gripped your jaw, forcing your head back as he brushed his nose against yours, holding on to the little stability he had left. “Don't wanna hurt you.” 

“I like it when you hurt me. I want it.” Your words were soft and desperate, quiet as you brushed your lips over his. Pain was the last thing on your mind when you had him this close, when you felt his touch, when you knew he was hanging in by a thread. You needed this more than you needed air in your lungs. 

“You want it?” He repeated, voice as low as it could go, eyes closed as he waited for that confirmation, for your permission, to absolutely ruin you. 

“Yes. Please Takeshi, I need it.” 

There wasn't anything better than Takeshi's cock in your guts after a brush with death.

His large calloused hands found the back of your bare thighs, he so easily hoisted you up around his waist as his lips crashed against yours without another word being said. He was a man of little words afterall. He was a man of action. And he was goddamn sure he would give you exactly what you needed. 

Your back landed on the soft duvets, but his lips never parted from yours. Your frantic hands shoved his coat off his shoulders, then the buttons of his shirt as he fumbled with his pants. It took some time, between desperate grabs and frantic hands, he was just as naked as you, only your underwear left between the two of you. 

His lips found your neck, wet kisses all over the skin as his hands roamed your body. He pulled back enough for his eyes to look you over. He would never get tired of looking at you. 

“You're so…” He didn't have to say it, the look in those hazel eyes of his said every word he wasn't capable of saying out loud. 

You gave him a smile, your eyes big with both longing and endearment. He kissed you one more time before he tugged your panties down. He settled just beside you, thick thighs caging one of yours as his long fingers brushed over your clit, leaving you to gasp against his mouth. His lips curved up slightly as his fingers moved in slow, long circles. He could feel you get wetter and wetter the longer he kept up his torture. He liked to hear you whine and beg for it. 

“Tak..” His name fell from your lips when you no longer could keep your mouth closed, you were gripping at his shoulder as you helplessly grinded against his fingers, desperate for more. 

“Mhm?” His lips were on your ear, his warm breath ghosting over the side of your face with each sharp inhale he took. “Need me to fuck you with my fingers, then with my cock? Is that it?” 

You were nodding so hard, gasping softly when he circled his fingers around your wet hole, teasing you. 

“Mhm!—Please—” You didn't even get the chance to finish your sentence when two long fingers buried themselves deep into your cunt. 

Your lips fell open as your eyes unconsciously rolled back into your head, the delicious feeling of his thick fingers filling you. It wasn't long before Takeshi was all but fucking you with his fingers, and you were nothing but sobs of pleasure. He buried his fingers to the knuckle, brushing your most sensitive spot with each snap of your wrist. 

Fuck did you look pretty like this. But you looked prettier when you were drunk on his cock. 

His free hand gripped your hair, keeping your head in place so he could watch the way your face would contort with pleasure. The lewd sound of your wet cunt being filled by his fingers wasn't lost on him either. He loved it. He was addicted to it. 

“That's it, let it go, sweetheart.” He grunted through his teeth when he realized you were so close, the way your hips were so desperately following the movements of his hand and the grip you had on his wrist was all but telling. He gave you a long satisfied hum when he felt your release coat his hand with a sob of his name. 

His fingers only left you when you were digging your nails into his wrist. His lips curled up in amusement at your desperate attempts but he ultimately complied. His lips were on your forehead as he eased you back into steady breathing.  

“You okay?” He was quiet, but you heard it. You simply nodded in response, still not fully able to find your voice. Good enough. “Good, ‘cause I'm gonna give you exactly what you deserve now.” 

He grabbed your arms and flipped you on your stomach with ease. You were taken aback, instinctively pushing yourself up on your forearms, but a hand on your back forced you back down. 

“Easy. Just relax, sweetheart,” he shushed you softly, you felt him move around for a second until you felt him behind you, right in between your open thighs. “Lemme take care of you, hm?” 

Your response was in the form of a soft hum, you lied flat on your stomach, your head to the side so you could breathe and your ass up enough for him to do as he pleased. And you waited, rather impatiently. You could feel Takeshi's hands on your hips, then up your back, until one of them settled on your shoulder blades. 

You were about to open your mouth when you felt the head of his cock brush over your wet clit. The only sound leaving your throat was that of a choked out moan. 

“You want it?” His lips were on your ear, voice smooth, but with this baritone rasp, a combination that drove you insane. You were nodding into the blankets. 

“Yes, Takeshi. Please.” 

Fuck, he was rolling his eyes at the sound of his name leaving your lips like that. He didn't need to say anything else. He pushed himself into you with a long, hard thrust that had you gasping. 

“Ahh….” You squeezed your eyes shut, hands squeezing the sheets in front of you at the feeling of his cock stretching your walls. You have been with Takeshi for some time now, but you never truly got used to the size of him (with this sleeve at least). “Fuck— you're so..” 

He eased a hand up and down your back, shushing you softly, he was used to it by now. When he felt you start to back into his cock he knew you were fine. He dug his fingers into your shoulder, holding you down on the mattress as he snapped his hips. A gasped cry left your lips. Again, and again with each brush of his cock, until he had you sobbing into the mattress. 

Takeshi, he fucked hard, and he liked it rough, but he had learned to take his time, he learned to take it slow, drag out the feeling for as long as possible, until you were nothing but a sobbing mess. His hand was wrapped around your hair, pushing your head down as he leaned over you. His chest was flush against your back as he rutted his hips against your ass, his lips on the back of your neck, leaving open mouthed kisses everywhere he could. 

Takeshi wasn't very talkative, ever, but goddamn was he noisy. His heavy pants, ragged grunts, the occasional fuck, were all in your ear which each delicious drag of his cock. 

“Goddamn,” he breathed out, nipping at your jaw as he pulled your head up enough to look at your fucked out face, “you feel so fucking good.” 

“Mhmmm. Shit, Tak. Feels so—” You couldn't even finish a cohesive sentence you were so cock drunk, so high on the feeling of his cock brushing that one spot that had you rolling your eyes. You reached behind you, trying to grab him, any of him. 

“Feels good, doesn't it baby?” You could hear the slight smirk on his lips as he wrapped his arm over your neck from shoulder to shoulder, almost as if he was putting you in a headlock. 

“Yes! Fuck yes—” 

“Of course it does.” 

That was enough of taking it slow for one night. 

Takeshi held you in place with his arm over your neck as he drilled into you. The only sounds leaving your mouth were sobs and choked out pants. You couldn't say any words at that point. He was fucking you so hard into that mattress you didn't even realize when the burn in your stomach started to build. All you knew it was that you were digging your nails into his arms so hard the marks would be there for days. It felt good to be caged under his body, with nowhere to go. Not that you wanted to be anywhere else. 

“C'mon, let me take care of you. I'm right here.” He rasped out, hanging on by a thread himself. God, it felt so fucking good. You were barely hanging on. But the second his thumb found your swollen clit you were done for. You couldn't even make a sound, you fell into a silent cry, eyes rolled into the back of your head as your release washed over you. “That's it. I got you.” 

He could feel your release coat his cock, and the feeling of you coming all over him only made him go over the edge himself. He gave you two, maybe three more long, hard drags of his cock before he was spilling himself inside you with a breathy fuck leaving his lips in the process. 

You all but collapsed, your head falling on the pillows as you panted, Takeshi did the same. He dropped his face on your neck, eyes closed as he steadied his breath. He stayed there for some time, he couldn't hold himself up forever, but fuck this felt so nice. You underneath him, wrapped under his arms, nobody could hurt you here. His lips eventually found the side of your head for a chaste kiss before he moved to lay beside you. But the distance between you lasted a whole five seconds because he was pulling you to him. He positioned you to face him, one leg thrown over his torso as both of his arms caged you in. He would keep you here if he could. 

Silence ultimately drowned out your soft breaths, but not once did he stop looking at you. And you could tell something eating at him, weighing on his chest. You brought a hand to his face and you saw him close his eyes with a sigh. 

“I'm sorry I wasn't there.” He finally said, riddled with guilt and anger all over again. You frowned softly and shook your head at him. 

“Stop that, okay? It wasn't your fault.” You answered, smoothing out the soft frown above his eyebrows. He looked at you, watching as you brushed the loose strands of hair out of his eyes but he said nothing. “I'm a big girl, Takeshi. What I do or what messes I get myself into are not your fault. So stop. If I was mad at you I wouldn't let you rearrange my guts, would I?” 

Takeshi didn't laugh often. Or ever really. But sometimes your absurdity brought on a genuine chuckle out of him.

“Aw, so he has a sense of humor. He's not a robot!” You snorted, raising your voice like you were announcing it to the entire city. He rolled his eyes at you. 

“I don't fuck like a robot, do I?” There was a tiny shit eating grin on his face which made you shove his shoulder playfully. 

“Oh my God, shut the fuck up.” You kissed him with a soft laugh. 

~~~~~~~

Goddammit Takeshi Kovacs.

This man just simply couldn't wake up and stay in bed with you for one day. Just one fucking time, you asked. 

You groaned tiredly as you stretched out your sore muscles before sitting up. No tall angry looking envoy anywhere. How tragic. You were about to get out of bed when the door swung open. You were about to reach for your gun on the nightstand when you saw it was just Takeshi, and he looked rather amused. 

“You're awake.” He raised his eyebrows at you in surprise, expecting you to be passed out after the night you had, partly his doing. You looked at him with suspicion as he walked to the bed. “I have something for you.” 

“Is it a decapitated head?” You blinked at him, feigning innocence and he chuckled.

“No. Well I didn't bring it here anyway.” He shrugged as he handed you a red and blue switchblade. It looked kind of cool. You stared at it for a good few seconds before you looked up at him with confusion. 

“What's this?” 

“The owner of this.” He pointed at the brand new scar on your side. Your eyes widened with realization and your mouth fell open. 

“Takeshi—” 

“I don't want to hear you.” He cut you off before you could even yell at him for not letting it go. You frowned at him deeply. He sighed as he sat beside you. “They had it coming. They touched you. It's that simple.” 

You stared at him, and you wanted to force yourself to be angry at him, angry at him for not letting it go, angry at him for treating you like some damsel in distress who needed him to save her. But when you looked into his eyes you didn't see the hero's complex. Not at all. You saw a man who was looking at the only thing that mattered to him in this world. And he'd be damned if he ever let anyone take that away from him again. 

“Awe, baby, so you aren't so heartless after all.” Your smile was mocking on the outside, but deep down it was one of endearment.

“Fuck you.” 

You loved him. And even someone as heartless as him was capable of love, too.

[neondreams2145]

When they ask how I died. tell them: Still Angry.

-Quellcrist Falconer

From Altered Carbon by Richard K. Morgan.

[joshhcrtnett]

Joel Kinnaman as Takeshi Kovacs

ALTERED CARBON (2018-2020)

[reveluving]

moonlight melody ; takeshi kovacs x reader

summary: you don’t know how you got there, and you don’t even know if you can ever return home. and you can’t find it in you to hate it whatsoever.

warnings: isekai au; minor altered carbon explicit content, major fluff w/ lovesick & poetic takeshi!

a/n: the first of quirky reverie 2024! had this idea in the shower. yeah. haven’t shown this man any love in a while so please take it! hope you enjoy it & don’t forget to leave some sugar! ᐠ( ᐛ )ᐟ

» wanna know what I have in store this fall? come & check out this year's 'reve's quirky reverie' m.list! 🕷️'!

'But he couldn’t blame you. He needed you just as much as you needed him.' ; 

A few drones flew overhead. The holographic half-naked model flashed across one of the many luxurious buildings. Even the little burn barrel that kept the slums warm in the far distance. 

You’ve seen it all. You’ve seen it plenty. You’ve seen it almost every night.

And yet, you couldn’t help but marvel at the scene before you like you were seeing it for the first time. 

The occasional brightness had you squinting your eyes, especially the ones resembling spotlights that shined in your face, but besides that, you were taking it all in like there was no tomorrow. Noise after noise, none of which was deafening given the aerial view of the balcony, just enough to wonder what sort of life, bad or good, existed beyond your very own.

As beautiful as it was to see the city or really, Altered Carbon on television, the visual effects on your screen didn’t do justice, now that you’ve gotten used to the real thing. Of course, the bright lights were just a façade from how dangerous Bay City truly was as soon as one stepped out of the hotel. But the life you lived, where the concept of Sleeves and the majorly advanced technology in the show never existed, before miraculously ending up here, wasn’t any better either. 

Less deadly, no doubt, but much more… dull. 

You didn’t jump when a pair of arms came to wrap around you, pressing their chest against your back before perching their forehead on your shoulder. You weren’t sure if you shivered from his deep voice or his warm breath tickling you. 

His words were unintelligible, lips moving against your skin.

“Can’t hear you, handsome.” You chuckled. He raised his head, a few strands of hair draping over his eyes.

“Can’t sleep?” Takeshi asked once more. You still couldn’t believe this was the same man who survived for centuries, instilling fear in men blinded by temporal wealth, now almost grumbling at you for successfully sliding out of his arms. 

“Not really,” You chuckled. He forced his bleary eyes open, not wanting to miss the little crinkles forming in your eyes. Takeshi instinctively leaned his face closer when you angled your head, kissing his cheek as an apology, “Didn’t wanna wake you up though. I can come back inside if you want.”

He’d love that, he’d want nothing more than to drag you back into bed. But your wide-eyed wonder was so irresistible that he’d feel like a criminal if he took it away from you. No matter how many times he had seen it.

“Nah. I don’t mind staying out here for a bit.” Instead of standing with you, he pulled you to the chair he had kindly dragged out for you months back. Sitting you on his lap, he practically melted in the seat, nosing the sensitive area between your neck and shoulder. He held you like the most precious plushie, and in all honesty, he was willing to fall asleep right then and there.

Truly, with the images—memories of you that flashed as his eyes remained closed, his mind in constant relaxation. As if life, whatever powerful being beyond anyone’s control or understanding had finally blessed him with the greatest form of honour, but he wasn’t the only one to believe as such. 

You would always hold him like he was your lifeline, and if you were being honest, he was. Hoping day in and day out that you wouldn’t wake up somewhere you could no longer call home instead of the familiar room in The Raven. The day never came, and though Takeshi always knew how to ease your worries, the scare would linger from time to time.

But he couldn’t blame you. He needed you just as much as you needed him. 

Even now, too enamoured by the look you had and how the lights cast onto your face, how your eyes took in everything you could like you wouldn’t be able to see again, and despite how tainted his world was, he found it endearing, only because it was you.

He quickly became accustomed to you with him—to you and him. The little hand caresses, the comforting kisses, the smiles that silently told him ‘It’s okay. You’ll be okay.’

We will be okay.

» a/n: something short and sweet for our beloved hunk because he deserves it whenever possible!! ;; gorgeous divider by @firefly-graphics ♡

[drrav3nb]

You don't think it's possible to go so far you can't go back?

JOEL KINNAMAN as Takeshi Kovacs

MARTHA HIGAREDA as Kristin Ortega

ALTERED CARBON 1.02 - Fallen Angel

[liveactionproblematicotd]

Today's problematic ship is Takeshi Kovacs and Reileen Kawahara from Altered Carbon

Brother/sister incest

Requested by @damadisangue

[lady-murderess]

I just wanna hold him...

[drabbles-mc]

Small Price to Pay

Takeshi Kovacs x F!Reader

Summary: In the wake of another close call, Takeshi finds himself once again fighting the urge to pull away from you for your own sake. Not that you've ever been one to let go that easily.

Warnings: 18+, language, blood/injury, angst with a happy ending

Word Count: 2k

A/N: I've been wanting to write more for Takeshi and when I got hit with this idea I just couldn't turn my back on it. Hope you enjoy!

Altered Carbon Taglist: @garbinge @destinedtobeloved (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

Consciousness tore through you, ripping you down the middle with a gasp that faded into coughs that racked your whole body. You were sitting upright without remembering bracing yourself into that position, each ragged and failed breath sending a lash of pain across your abdomen and into your limbs. You were looking around the room before your vision had completely righted itself. Whether it was disorientation or tears that were making things fuzzy, you weren’t sure. All you knew was that nothing looked clear, nothing felt right.

Blinking your way into clearer vision, you hardly even noticed that the tears were on your cheeks now. You were finally able to take a few regular breaths between coughs, not that it helped your pain subside at all. The room you were in faded into the background as you reached up and touched your own face, feeling for something, anything familiar. All you felt was pain, bruises and open cuts—not the right type of familiarity. Holding your hands out in front of you, some of the tension that you’d so suddenly picked up dissipated. Hands and arms that you recognized. A body that was yours, well, as much as anyone’s body was really their own anymore.

When you felt a hand on your shoulder, you jerked yourself away as best you could, sending yourself into another coughing fit in the process, pain radiating all throughout your body. It was all for nothing—the hand didn’t budge. If anything, its grip tightened, fingers digging into the exposed flesh of your shoulder. It was painful but somewhere in the back of your mind you were aware of the fact that it was the only thing keeping you upright.

“Hey, hey,” he finally spoke up, voice low and rough wrapping around you to help steady you. “You’re alright.”

Clutching his hand with your own, you turned your head to look at him. Takeshi’s face was almost always neutral, feelings always buried a few layers deep under the skin of whatever sleeve he was wearing at the time. Since that was the case, the only coherent thought you could conjure up was that you must’ve looked like you were in even worse shape than you felt, his lips pulled down into a deep frown, worry swirling around his eyes. The tight pinch of his brows undermined his attempt at reassurance.

“Talk to me,” he tried to make it not sound like an order, but it didn’t really work.

“Tak?” was all you managed to get out, your voice hoarse, throat like sandpaper.

His shoulders sagged in relief at the singular word. He let out a deep breath as his hand slid from your shoulder up the side of your throat until he was cupping the side of your face. His thumb was beneath your chin, pressing into it just slightly to tilt your head to make you look up at him. No matter how light his touch was, you could feel the pressure on each bruise and cut on your face. You wanted to pull away from the pain but you couldn’t make yourself pull away from him.

He was in better shape than you, although that wasn’t saying much. There were fewer bruises on his face, and with the dark cloth of his shirt you couldn’t really see or get a good idea of the damage done on that front. You wanted to ask, but you didn’t have it in you. You leaned into the touch of his palm instead, never mind the blood you were smearing onto it.

He watched the way your eyes fluttered shut, the way that you pressed into his touch despite the way it made you wince in pain. Your breathing still hadn’t steadied, but at least you were breathing. There had been a moment when he thought that he’d lost you. Maybe not forever, because real death was hard to come by. But he thought for a moment that he’d be left to carry your stack on a chain around his neck until further notice, until he could get his hands on a new sleeve. And you always hated that, hated the turnover. He liked to chastise you, call you sentimental in a world that had no infrastructure for that anymore. Deep down though he had a certain type of respect for it—not that he’d ever tell you if e could help it. He had lost track of how long you’d been in your current sleeve. Clearly it’d been long enough for him to forget. He didn’t want to see it change either. Maybe your sentimental nature was finally becoming contagious.

“Hey,” he finally spoke up again, glad that your eyes were closed and you couldn’t see the tidal wave of emotions cascading across his face, “we’ll get you patched up, alright?”

You managed a nod, not bothering to speak as you let your head fall from his hand until your forehead was resting against the planes of muscle that ran up his side. You could feel each breath he took that way, keenly aware of every one as his hand came to rest on the back of your head, fingers splaying.

After a few long, silent minutes passed that way, you tried to clear your throat and speak again. It hurt a little less the second time around. “Split your nose open again,” you told him, eyes still closed, face still pressed against him.

He let out a short chuckle. “Split open more than just your nose.”

You wanted to laugh but you knew that it would hurt more than it was worth. You managed a low hum of amusement instead. “How bad?”

“How bad’s it feel?”

The momentary sting of leaning deeper into him was worth the payoff of being closer. “Pretty fucking bad.”

“Yeah.”

“You have to bring me back?”

He sucked in a deep breath—you could feel the impending sigh before you actually heard it. “Yeah. You can’t fuckin’ do that to me anymore.”

You couldn’t fight the laugh that time, and you paid the price for it. “It’s not like I set out with that goal in mind, you know.”

He pulled away from you, much to your disappointment. His hand was instantly coming to cup your jaw, movements gentle and firm all at once as he made you look up and into his eyes. The traces of humor that had been lingering between you were gone—you could see it in his eyes.

He shook his head slightly as he started to speak. “I can do the rest of this on my—”

“Tak,” you cut him off, the smolder of anger blooming in the pit of your stomach no match for the burning pain you were in, but you could still feel the difference.

“I’m serious.”

You wished you had the strength to yell. “So am I.”

“Look at you,” he said, helpless in a way he hardly ever was.

“I’m fine.” He scoffed and you corrected yourself. “I’ll be fine. If I gotta trade in—”

“No,” his tone was harsh, more than he had intended.

You flinched, not expecting it from him. “It’s just a sleeve,” you tried to reason.

“It’s the first thing you look for every time you come back,” he argued.

It was true. Before you cared about your surroundings, or the people with you, you looked to see if you were still the same person you were when the lights went out. Tak had worked overtime to make sure you always woke up recognizing the person in your reflection. You figured it was a professional courtesy, if nothing else something to make his life easier so that he didn’t have to hear you lament about it. This was the first time it ever sounded like he actually cared.

“Like it even matters to you,” you muttered.

“It matters to you,” he said, sincerity dripping from his words in a way you couldn’t ignore or deny.

“Know what else matters to me?” you asked, voice sounding more assured as your mind and body started to get back into sync with each other.

He already knew where it was going. “Don’t.”

There were things that you wanted to say that you wouldn’t. Things that he knew without you having to say them out loud. The look in his eyes said it all, and you were willing to settle for that for now. “We came this far. I’m not,” you lifted your chin from his hand so that you could clasp it with your own, “I’m not leaving you now. And you’re not leaving me.”

He knew even when he started the conversation that it was going to end this way. But he still had to try. Truthfully he didn’t actually want to do the rest of this without you, but that was the selfish part of him talking. That was the part of him that he tried to kill a long time ago but couldn’t ever quite manage it. So onward you two went. But every close call became a heavier and heavier weight resting on his shoulders. Each time it got a little harder to stomach. He never could make himself take off in the dead of night on you, though. You’d probably find him anyway—limp your way to him no matter how many miles or years stood between you.

You could see it in his eyes that even though he was looking at you, his mind busier with much more than just taking in how you looked. You squeezed his hand. “We can lay low here for a beat?”

He nodded. “Until you’re ready.”

It was a relief, to say the least. You sighed, letting your head drop back a little bit and ignoring the pain in your neck. You stared at him for a moment, wishing you could read his mind. Resigning yourself to the fact that you weren’t quite that adept, you kissed his knuckles and asked, “Patch me up?”

He ends of his mouth turned up just slightly, enough to erase the deep frown he’d been sporting for most of the conversation. “Yeah.” He leaned in, leaving a quick, soft kiss on top of your head before pulling away to grab his bag with all his gear. “Gonna have to do it, you know…” he trailed off and held up the thread and needle.

“Old school,” you offered with a weary chuckle.

He was shaking his head at you but you could see the way that his lips pulled up just a little bit more. You watched him as he sat down and started to lay out what precious little he would need to stitch you up and put you back together again.

The two of you had done this dance together so many times neither of you even had to think about it anymore. Your bodies were roadmaps that the other knew every inch of, even the parts that were left uncharted by everyone else. You could recite his scars from memory, find them with your eyes closed, with this sleeve and all the others. If anyone asked him, he could tell them where the two of you were for each stitch and patch job that kept your body together—on the run, in alleyways, in haunts much shadier than that of The Raven, he could recall them all like they were fables from childhood.

He started with the laceration that went across half of your forehead. You closed your eyes, not that it really made all that much of a difference. He cleaned it as best he could before setting about stitching you up. It was too familiar to both of you for him to bother giving you a warning. You winced at the initial puncture, hand darting out and gripping tightly onto his knee.

The pain didn’t lessen as he went along, when he moved from one wound to the next. It was a silent affair, a careful brand of intimacy that required no words and sparing eye contact. It was just his hands on your skin, you trusting that he was doing the right thing no matter how much it hurt. On another day the roles would be reversed and you would be doing the same for him. It would sting and burn him the same way it did you, but the pain was a small price to pay to be alive. It was a small price to pay to wake up each time with someone you trusted.

[dirtbagdefender]

[kimberly-stocks]

Rewatching Altered carbon season 1 for the third time because Joel Kinnaman 🤤

He said that to get into this shape he only ate kale leaves with his tears as a dressing 😅

[what-the-fr3nch-toast]

[monstergifpacks]

Joel Kinnaman in Altered Carbon, S01 E01

[kisskiss2u2]

altered carbon (2018) // 1.10 "the killers"

► reileen kawahara (dichen lachman) + takeshi kovacs (joel kinnaman)