#like this guy can keep you safe actually! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

spaceclefairy · 2 days

Text

Keep that Coffee Hot

You, a bounty agent. The Ghoul, a bounty hunter. The Ghoul needs to cash in on his most recent job and ends up with more than the contract promised.

When the Ghoul walks through the front door of your office, you know he's here for one of two things: a contract or a cashout. This no-name wasteland town is little more than a hub for the bounty agencies, so you get rough characters milling in and out of town all the time, but no one can clear a street quite like this Ghoul. You always know when he's back in town - the few people milling about scatter, and even the other bounty hunters coming through make themselves scarce. Even in the middle of a wasteland, he somehow makes the place even more desolate with his just presence alone.

You don't mind the Ghoul, personally. Dealing with him is part of your job, after all - you're a bounty agent, he's a bounty hunter. You manage the contracts, he hunts the target, you give the payout when he's done. Easy-peasy. He's intimidating, sure, and dangerous, but he's always been all business with you, and he’s damn good for business.

And if he’s a little flirty sometimes, well, you don’t mind.

This time when the Ghoul struts through your door, he’s dusty from the wasteland outside and carrying a grimy, drippy leather bag in hand. The leather bag squelches faintly as whatever's inside shifts around, dripping brownish liquid on the scrubbed wooden floor. He greets you in his usual way, with a howdy and a sugary darlin’, and plonks the bag down on your desk, goo oozing out from the seams.

“Howdy, Coop,” you greet, eying the bag with glee. As you drag it over to you, it leaves a snail-trail of ick on the wood, staining it further. You peer into the bag and confirm it's the correct bounty in your contract.

“One mutant heart, as requested,” the Ghoul says. He watches you with a faint amused smile. “Never brought the bounty straight to the agent before.”

You dump the faintly-pulsing mutant heart out on the desk. It’s overly large - much larger than a normal human’s - and gray-brown, and it spurts little gushes of blood when you poke it, so you know it’s still fresh. You’re surprised it’s still working, but that’s why you paid for the Ghoul: he gets things done quickly.

“That's because I'm the client this time.”

“Aw, you asked for me?” the Ghoul teases, only a little derisively, grinning at you. “That’s sweet.”

You roll your eyes. “I didn't ask for you - I gave the contract straight to you.”

“Straight to little ol’ me, huh?” he grins, resting his elbows on top of your desk.

Anyone else would have been shot for getting this close to you and your contract book, but you’ve always had a little bit of a soft spot for this Ghoul. It might be the flirting swaying your judgment. It might be that he’s actually fairly polite when he comes in - for a bounty hunter anyway. Regardless, you can’t deny you let him get away with more than you let the others who come in for payout.

“That’s what I said, Cooper,” you say as you duck down under your desk to retrieve a sack of caps from the safe and a case stocked with chems and rad-away. “You’re expensive, but you’re worth it. And I needed that done quickly.”

The Ghoul gestures down at the faintly thumping heart. “What’d you want with that guy anyway?”

“Ex-boyfriend.”

“Explains why you wanted his heart in a bag,” the Ghoul comments. He sounds vaguely impressed. “Your ex-boyfriend was a mutant with two heads.”

“Four heads if you count the two below the belt,” you reply. You hand the Ghoul the bag of caps first and the case full of chems second. “Here's your payout and a bonus for quick work.”

The Ghoul opens the case slightly and snaps it shut, apparently pleased by the way his non-existent eyebrows raise. He shoves the bag of caps and case into his shoulder bag and slings it back over his shoulder. “Much appreciated. You got anything else for me to do?”

“Plenty. Let me check the contract log.”

You reach for your book to check, but he stops you by dragging the book over to him. Truly, anyone else would have been shot. Not him. He flips open a page and runs a gloved finger down the crease in the spine, pretending to read whatever’s on the page.

The Ghoul glances up at you. “Are you in the contract log?”

You meet his gaze, eyebrows raised. “Are you telling me you want to do me, Cooper?”

“Sure am, darlin’.”

You lean back in your chair, eyeing the Ghoul where he stands. You’ve always liked his eyes. It’s the only part of him left that looks like there’s still humanity to him.

The Ghoul steps back. “But, if a ghoul’s not really your thing…”

“Didn’t say that.”

“Then what do you say?”

You pause, pretending to think, but you don’t really have to think about it. “Sure, why not?”

“You got a backroom or somethin’ or we just movin’ your book out of the way?”

You nod towards the door behind you, not that you’d be opposed to just fucking him here in the middle of your office. “Yeah, I got a backroom.”

Said backroom constitutes little more than a spare desk and chair with a window, but that’s really all you’ll need. There are no curtains for the window, so whoever walks by is going to get an eyeful of what’s going on if they peek in at the wrong time. You don’t particularly care, and the Ghoul surely doesn’t.

The hat and duster stay put as the Ghoul backs you up against the desk. He’s only a bit taller than you, but his presence takes up the remainder of the tiny, boiling hot room. The hollow, pitted flesh of his face appears raw and red, but his eyes are pretty and alert. His lips are dry and smooth against yours, raw like the rest of his skin. You don’t mind - there’s no room to be picky out in this wasteland town.

You’re not sure how he’s not miserable in the heat of the tiny room, but it doesn’t seem to bother him. In any case, you drag him closer by his belt, fisting your hand in his duster.

The Ghoul kisses you again, then strips off one of his leather gloves with his teeth and tosses it on the desk behind you. “Guess a ghoul is a step up from a mutant, at least?”

You yank his belt open and shimmy his pants down over his hips - he doesn’t let you get them down any farther. “I like ghouls.”

“Well, then, you’re a fuckin’ weirdo, ain’t ya?”

You slide down the side of the desk and hit your knees, your back pressed against the creaking wood. “Works out well for you, doesn’t it, Coop?”

His still-gloved hand wraps around the back of your neck, the leather sticking to your skin in the heat. “Sure does, darlin’.”

You take his exposed cock in hand and lick him root to tip, grinning at the hiss he gives you. His hand tightens around the back of your neck, catching in your hair. He looms over you, his unoccupied hand planted on the desk, blacking out the sides of your vision with his duster. You slide your hand down around the base of his cock and inch your lips down his shaft, hollowing your cheeks out, and he groans, low and slow, hips twitching like he's fighting the urge to just bury himself in your throat. You look up at him, wrapping your tongue around the tip of his cock, and his eyes are dark deep in the hollows of his eye sockets.

He doesn't tolerate your teasing long. No, he tangles his hand in your hair and presses himself deep down your throat until your nose is flush with his skin. You gag around him, and he grins, pulling out and thrusting back in so you'll gag on him again.

“That's it,” the Ghoul says, teetering right on the edge of breathlessness, “you take it so well.”

You punctuate his words by scraping your teeth down his shaft, which he seems to like by the way he slams himself down your throat. Your eyes water, and you can feel the tears rolling down your face as surely as you can feel sweat snaking through your hair.

“Look so good on your knees for me,” he says, threading his fingers through your hair. He catches your chin with his ungloved hand, tilting your face up with his cock still in your mouth. His thumb swipes through the tears staining your face. “Pretty as a picture.”

The backroom is only getting hotter the longer you're stuck on your knees, clothed and trapped underneath the Ghoul’s duster with him. You're sure you're soaking through your clothes by now. Your hand snakes down to undo your top and pants so you can get some relief from the heat. It doesn’t help much, but it’s enough to keep your head from swimming.

The Ghoul takes that as an indication you’re itching to take your clothes off (you are). He hauls you to your feet, picks you up, and deposits you on top of the desk, looming over you with a grin. You let him strip the rest of your shirt off and help him get your pants off of one leg. You squeeze his hips between your thighs and hook your foot around his back, pulling him flush against you.

“Take off the duster, Coop,” you say, moving to tug it down his shoulder. “It’s too hot in here for that.”

He takes the hand clutching his duster and pins it down to the desk. “I think you just want me to get naked.”

You smirk. “That, too.”

He strips off the other glove with his teeth and grips your hip. “Maybe next time, doll.”

“Aw, you wanna fuck me again - oh, fuck-”

The Ghoul doesn’t let you finish teasing him, instead thrusting into you with a rough stroke. The words get caught in your mouth, and he loves that. “Cat got your tongue?”

“Dick,” you say, grabbing the front of his shirt and yanking him into a breathless kiss. “Just come here.”

The Ghoul yanks you closer by the hip and wastes no time rutting into you. He can’t decide where to put his hands and runs them up your hips, your sides, grabs at your tits, before finally settling one hand around the back of your neck (seems to be his favorite place to grab you) and the other hand down in your lap so he can press his thumb to your clit. You clench around him, and that just makes him thrust into you harder, rubbing tight circles into your clit.

You’re not gonna last long - not like this. It’s hot, and he feels so good, thick and heavy in your cunt, and the way he groans in your ear and licks at your neck makes you whine.

You can tell the Ghoul is getting close to from the way his hips start to stutter, pressing deeper into you, pace quickening. He yanks your head back by your hair and latches onto your neck, sucking a bruise into your skin.

He presses his lips to your ear, “Where do you want it, doll?”

“Inside,” you reply, tightening your legs around him. “Less cleanup. And I’ve got extra radaway.”

The Ghoul takes that to heart, pounding into you until you cum with a sharp whine. It doesn’t take him long to finish after you, spilling himself deep inside you. He pulls out, cock soaked and softening slowly, but he’s not done with you. He stuffs his fingers into your cunt to keep you full, pumping in and out, and keeps pressing down on your clit with his thumb. It’s teetering violently on the edge of too much, overstimulating you, but you cum again anyway, this time harder and louder from the aftershocks ripping through you.

You drop bonelessly to the desk when he pulls his fingers out, and you watch him idly through your comedown as he licks his own fingers clean.

After a beat, you clamber up onto your elbows. “You still want another contract?”

The Ghoul adjusts himself and zips up his pants, chuckling lowly. “I just fucked you stupid and you’re talking about work.”

You grab your shirt and pull it down over your head, climb down off the desk, and set to work pulling up your pants. “Gets boring around here - gotta keep you coming back somehow.”

He snorts. “Oh, babydoll, you’ll be begging to get rid of me if you keep that up.”

“Try me.”

“I could use another contract,” he says. The slow grin that spread across his face would give anyone else chills. “Let’s see what you’ve got in your little book out there.”

#cooper howard #fallout prime #fotv #the ghoul #the ghoul x reader #cooper howard x reader #fallout the ghoul

311 notes · View notes

idyllic-ghost · 1 day

Note

I've been thinking about woozi aftercare 😫😫 like after an intense session imagine him taking care of you and giving you so many compliments especially if you haven't seen each other in a long time (reader she/her)

ohhh i can see that! i do see him as a very shy person, the type of guy who wouldn't be able to speak his mind in the moment when it comes to love (i do think he's good at communicating love, his songs are his track record, but that he has to sit down and think them over first), but in that moment with so much going on i definitely see it🤭

warnings: not proofed, implied smut, aftercare, MDNI

Your legs are still tangled together, your heavy breaths synchronizing in a harmonious rhythm. He's still inside of you, keeping the close proximity for as long as possible, and your arms are still around his neck - softly playing with his hair. Jihoon lets out a sigh that almost sounds like a whimper as he leans his forehead against yours. The bedsheets are clinging to your sweaty limbs, but you can't bring yourself to start cleaning up.

"Thank you," he whispers before giving you a chaste kiss.

The energy changed in a matter of seconds. Animalistic grunts turned into soft panting, violent movement turned into gentle touches, and the look in his eyes turned from lust to pure love. You had missed this, you had missed him - both of these sides of him. Jihoon had been gone for months on tour, and now he's finally with you again - not just over the phone, or on a face time call, but here with you, in real life.

"Why are you thanking me?" You brush away the hair hanging in front of his face, a playful smile appearing on your lips.

"I don't know..." He huffs and hides his face in the crook of your neck, where he presses a few loving pecks. "You're so beautiful... I just can't believe that you're with me. I've missed you so much."

You wrap your arms tighter around him, the small amount of movement had both of you wincing. He got home two-to-three hours ago, you couldn't quite tell, and the two of you had been at it ever since. It was surprising to see him like this, but you shouldn't be surprised considering the amount of racy photos you had sent him for the past few months. Safe to say, you are more than sensitive right now.

"I've missed you, too," you murmur and then, almost brittle, say, "You don't have to leave soon, do you?"

Jihoon moves to look at you again, his eyebrows slightly furrowed. He reaches out to your face, brushing something off your cheek with his thumb - you don't know if there was something actually there, or if it was an excuse to caress your cheek.

"If you're thinking about that now, I didn't do a good enough job." He frowns, a soft pout forming on his lips - it's been so long since you've seen him act cute.

"I just don't want to fall asleep now if you'll be gone in the morning," you say.

"I won't be gone," he quickly replies. "I'm staying with you- I've taken a few days off."

It's almost cute how much he's trying to reassure you. His flushed face and his messy hair, combined with his wide eyes, makes you laugh - any worry about the next day disappearing completely. Jihoon quiets down and a smile settles on his lips. He presses a final kiss on your cheek before moving to get up.

"I'll clean up, okay? Wait here," he says, as if you're capable to move at all.

"Hurry back," you chirp as you pull the covers tighter around you.

In a matter of seconds, Jihoon comes back with a warm towel to help clean you up. He can't meet your eyes as he brings the towel to your thighs, so different from how he had treated you a few minutes ago. The shyness has apparently not hit him just yet, as he soon crawls back into bed and moves you to lay on his broad chest. One of his hands are on the top of your head, keeping it in the crook of his neck, while the other is on your back - drawing circles on your sensitive skin with his fingers.

"You're so good for me," he says. "I'm sorry for being away so much."

"It's fine," you answer, "as long as I get to experience you like this every time you come back."

"Noted." The chuckle he lets out almost sounds more like a scoff as it is quickly cut off by a yawn.

His fingers subconsciously drum against your back to some unknown melody. You find yourself wanting to ask what song it was - if it was something old, something new, or an old unreleased track - but Jihoon seems keen on not talking about work tonight. You can't blame him.

"I'm happy you're back," you murmur and nuzzle your face closer to him. "The bed is always cold without you."

Jihoon smells like the laundry detergent you told him you usually buy, his skin radiates the kind of warmth that seeps into your soul, and you can hear his heartbeat quicken at your words. You don't have to look at his face to know that he's turned red.

"I should get you a heating blanket," he grumbles in an attempt to hide his fluster.

"I like this more," you counter.

He removes his hand from your back to place over his eyes as a soft breath leaves his lips. You look up at him with a teasing smile and, as you expected, his ears are bright red.

"Jihoon." Your voice gets his attention and he removes his hand from his face to look at you. "I love you."

His flustered expression changes to a warm and much softer one. You shuffle around until your face is right above his, and you press a kiss on his lips. It's short, and Jihoon must think it's too short as he tries to chase your lips when you pull away.

"I love you, too." His eyes stay closed, as if he can't bring himself to look at you or as if he's still expecting you to kiss him again.

You give into him, pressing another kiss on his lips as your hands cup his face. Jihoon smiles against your lips as he gets what he wants, and takes you by surprise as he manhandles you onto your back. His eyes, although not as intense as before, has a lustful spark in them again.

"Again?" you ask incredulously.

"I have to make up for lost time," he argues and presses a kiss to your cheek.

"It's late, aren't you tired?"

"I'm never too tired for you," he murmurs before turning his attention to your body for the umpteenth time that night.

182 notes · View notes

rafeandonlyrafe · 9 hours

Text

followed (part one)

words: 1.2k

warnings: stalker (not rafe), violence, rafe beats someone up but the guy is a creep

followed (part one) / accused (part two)

“hey.” you whisper, ducking under the man's outstretched arm as he looks at the various snacks on the shelf. “pretend you know me, please. i'm being followed.”

rafe doesn't really question it, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and smiling down at you, just as a man turns down the aisle.

“there you are, baby!” you put on a big smile, eyes still wide, telling the truth of your feelings as rafe can see how nervous you are. “been looking all over the store for you!”

rafe can see the guy, overdressed in lots of layers of jackets, physically deflates when he sees you're no longer alone and defenseless.

“sorry, babe. i got caught up with the snacks.” rafe laughs, grabbing a random bag off the shelf and dropping it into his basket.

“its okay.” you shake your head. “just happy we're back together.”

rafe keeps you close to him, arm wrapped around your shoulder as the man moves away. you let out a sigh of relief, head tipping forward to rest against rafes chest.

“thank you.” you say before straightening up and taking a step back.

“no problem.” rafe could tell how pretty you were from the moment he saw you, but now that you're not riddled with nerves, he can see that you're gorgeous. he shifts the basket to his other hand as he reaches out. “im rafe.”

“y/n.” you shake his hand, palm still slightly sweaty.

“let me stick with you while you shop, yeah? just in case he comes back.”

“oh my god, i would really appreciate that.” you lay a hand over your chest. “i dropped my basket a couple aisles back when he turned down the same row.”

rafe follows you, keeping his head on a swivel. he knows he can take the guy, he looked on the older side from the brief glance rafe had at him, but that doesn't mean he wants to get surprise attacked.

“i don't have much more that i need to grab.” you explain to rafe, walking just a step in front of him, causing you to turn down the aisle first.

you gasp and back up into rafe when you realize the same man is now hovering over your basket, waiting on you to return to it.

“i got you.” rafe whispers, dropping his basket, causing it to clatter against the floor. the man glares and doesn't back off like rafe was hoping he would.

“back away from my girls shit.” he growls out, dropping his voice.

“oh yeah, what are you gonna do? beat me up and then get arrested? there's cameras everywhere.” the man says, taking a step forward.

rafe is quick to reposition himself to stand in front of you. “and then those same cameras will see you following my girlfriend all over the store. get out before i beat your ass.”

the man looks rafe up and down before rushing away, hopefully finally actually leaving.

“shit.” you let out a whine, causing rafe to quickly whip around to face you, seeing tears welling up in your eyes.

“hey, you're safe now.” rafe says, placing his hands on your shoulders, gently rubbing them. when the tears break loose and slide down your cheeks, he pulls you forward into his chest, allowing you to sniffle until you've got yourself under control.

“sorry.” you laugh awkwardly, wiping away the tears before realize you'd left most of them as a stain on rafes shirt.

“it's okay.” he says. “men who mess with women and kids are the worst.”

you nod in agreement. “i don't know how to thank you…”

“you can thank me by not wasting your tears on that creep, alright?”

you nod as rafe grabs your basket, not handing it to you as he picks up his own. “what else do you need to get?” he asks.

“um, just some snacks.” you follow rafe as he confidently walks through the store.

you finish your shopping together before heading to the checkout. rafe doesn't even let you argue as he pays for what you have in your basket, a little shocked by how much he makeup costs, but he knows it won't dent his bank account.

“shouldn't i have paid for you since you helped me?” you ask as you walk out of the store, glad that the parking lot is lit up with street lights, as the sun has set.

“nah.” rafe just smiles at you. “now where's your car? wanna make sure you get in safe.”

you lead him towards your jeep, watching his muscled arms as he puts your couple bags into the trunk.

“thanks so much. i… i don't even want to think about what would have happened to be if you weren't there.” you take a deep breath.

“hey, don't worry about it.” rafe watches you climb into your car, giving him a small wave before taking off. rafe watches you leave, turning out onto the street before walking to his car.

hes about to pull out of his parking spot himself when he sees a beat up sedan sat in the darkest spot of the lot, right under a burnt out light. rafe squints into the darkness, letting out a growl when his suspicions are right.

he leaves his car, not bothering to sneak as he walks up and taps on the window. the man is disgruntled but rolls it down.

“there's cameras in the parking lot too.” he says.

“yeah, but it's pretty dark right here.” rafe looks around before reaching into the open window, holding the man by the collar while his other fist pummels into him, hitting his face over and over until it's a bloody, bruised mess.

“that'll teach you to never mess with poor defenseless women ever again, fucking creep.” rafe isn't finished yet though as he spits onto the man, taking the keys out of the car and tossing them away, leaving the man to have so scrounge on the ground for them later.

“shit.” rafe turns around to see your car is back in the parking lot, your eyes wide as you watch him from the drivers seat.

rafe wipes the blood off his knuckles onto the guys shirt before walking over to your jeep.

“im sorry you had to see that.” rafe says as you step out, piece of paper in hand.

“it… its okay.” you shake your head. “im glad you did that.” you're not one for violence, but the creep had it coming.

“are you okay?” rafe asks, not sure why you came back, but he's glad to see you again.

you stick your hand out, giving the paper to rafe. “came back to give you my number. can't believe i left without doing that.”

“ah.” rafe smirks. “seeing me beat up that guy didn't make you change your mind?” he sticks the paper into his pocket, knowing he's going to pull it out the second you're gone to save it to his phone then memorize the digits.

“not at all.” you admit, looking down at your feet. “if anything, it makes me like you more.”

“dinner this friday?” rafe doesn't want to wait to plan out your date, needing to know before letting you go when he will see you again.

“that's too far away. how about tomorrow?”

rafe is surprised how forward you are, but grateful for it as he nods. “ill text you.”

“ill be waiting.”

sfw taglist: @winterrrnight @bejeweledreverie

357 notes · View notes

ovaryacted · 7 hours

Note

i feel like Leon also would be a bit dominant in bed, since he doesn’t really have much control over his life, that would be the one aspect he can control

Oh yeah absolutely. This is actually one of my favorite things to think about when it comes to Leon in particular, how his current place in life dictates how he acts in the bedroom.

I've said this like a hundred times but if Leon is more dominant, he's a soft pleasure dom if anything. He lives to please, to serve, and that may sound like he still lacks control, but in this sense giving his partner pleasure would satisfy his personal needs of being able to do something other than bring pain.

I also think his dominance would pop out in certain instances because he would hold himself back unintentionally. It's not that he doesn't have the capacity of being dominant, it's the how that really gets him thinking. He doesn't want to cause harm unless it's asked for, and I'm going to assume a man like him probably has the ability to seriously hurt someone as we've seen. He's trained to kill people, he's an actual government trained hitman, and people don't realize it but that's what he is.

In the earlier stages of his life, I don't see him as having any dominant qualities only because he lacks the experience. I'm not saying this to ruin people's fantasies, but he just gives soft pretty boy vibes that needs reasurance. He doesn't give me the vibes of "#realfucker" yet you know?

Now in RE4R and beyond, I definitey see the dominance coming through but it won't be something that happens right away, nor will it be intense the first go-around despite the fact that Leon can be an intense guy. I think the dominance goes more in hand with how comfortable he feels with himself and his strength, and feeling safe in taking control and being selfish with his pleasure.

It would probably be best reflected in being commanding and praising in the bedroom and being vocal, wanting to hear his partner's approval to what he does so he can get a read on the situation, on what is good and what he has to tweak. It's little things like:

"Eyes on me"

"You can take it"

"Keep your hands above your head"

"That's it, doing so good for me"

Not to mention his touch would be more intentional, harsher in the sense of not being scared to grip too hard. He'd knead the skin, kiss deeper, and if it were really up to him, he would leave faint marks all over someone's body to be found the next morning. The things that he would do are done in an act of poessession, where he wants to own something even if it's just for one night, and that's both owning the ability to dictate what happens in the bedroom, and to be with someone that cares enough to let him explore.

On the plus side, whenever Leon is a bit more dominant, I think he cranks up the aftercare higher for the session. Depending on how harsh he is, and trust me he can be and it gets worse as he gets older, the need of reassurance after moments like that will be in higher demand.

#ovaryacted asks #leon kennedy #leon scott kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #ovaryacted thoughts #now I'm missing writing dom Leon #godammit

98 notes · View notes

celestialwhoree · 1 day

Text

𝐒𝐚𝐲 𝐆𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐧 𝐆𝐨 - 𝟔

You're not sure whether asking Nikto how he worked out what your favourite foods are is a good idea. Realistically, you know that men in his field are required to be perceptive, to pick out the smallest of details which may be useful later. He's been in your house so many times, in your fridge for a left over slice of pie, or the less that you can barely consider a garage to grab whatever tool he'd needed to fix your wobbly fencepost. On the one hand, his awareness of you, what you like and dislike, is comforting. It feels safe to have someone so constantly tuned in on your frequency. Safe. On the other? Having someone so impossibly attentive to your needs is unsettling. It's been far too long since you've had someone shadowing your day-to-day life - and Nikto is, undeniably, like a shadow.

The picnic is - it's really sweet. Well intentioned. The execution, admittedly is rudimentary, but you're just splitting hairs. A guy set you up a picnic after you practically sucked off his face in your kitchen. You're pretty sure most would've run had they felt the sheer reverence, the need in your kiss. He fixed your fence.

Now you're sat rather awkwardly beside one another, picking at a strange assortment of cheeses and fruits, making stilted conversation as you watch a herd of cows graze a couple of fields down.

"How did you know my fence was broken?" You hum in an absent, obvious attempt to keep the conversation going. Tough considering you barely know anything about Nikto, and yet he seems to know everything about you. Your weak endeavour towards filling the stillness between the two of you obviously doesn't go unnoticed - nor does the way your make an effort to dig deeper and see just how much of you Nikto actually catches.

"You hit it with your car a few weeks ago." He states bluntly, leaving you flushing a beet red. Foolishly, you'd always believed that your sub-par driving skills were just imagined, that no one saw you the way you saw yourself. Clearly, you've been wrong all along.

"You do have your drivers license, yes?" Nikto continues to chide, unable to help the way his blood rushes south when you blush, fluttering your lashes as you avert your gaze to the strawberry you'd been just about to eat. "Mhm." You mumble, trying to feign an indignant look - futile, seeing as he's already caught you in the act of your embarrassment.

"I can help you if you would like." Nikto utters, before he too turns his burning face towards the gingham blanket he'd found whilst trawling the grocery store in the small hours of this morning, trying to be as prepared as possible for your date. He's far too quickly become accustomed to your little quirks and reactions, the way you flinch like a frightened bunny from loud noises, or worry at your lip when you're nervous but still trying to seem nonchalant. You're hardly ever nonchalant about anything. He sees that too. "Is it the car that you struggle with?" He tries, so desperately, to claw himself from the hole he's seemingly fallen into, painfully aware that he's probably coming off as some condescending, patronising prick. He knows you can drive. Kind of. However, the thought of helping you, spending time with you, taking all of the menial tasks of daily life out of your hands, he can't help but to yearn for it. Or maybe it's just you. You're the one thing he finds himself wanting for after a life of solitude. You, your silly little shoes, and strawberry flavoured lips, your bows and pearls. You with a smile so bright it's blinding, and a laugh that could bring the cruelest of men to his knees. You are what he yearns for. The silver lining to the rainclouds which have so long darkened his days. You, you, you.

He doesn't even realise you'd been talking until you stop. Only, of course, to take the next best course of action towards capturing his attention, shuffling towards him until you're sat flush against his side, blinking up at him with a look that clearly suggests that you're asking for permission. The fact that he doesn't get hard right then and there is a miracle - though he's not sure if it's one that'll last. At least, not when you finally work up the guts to crawl up into his lap like a needy cat, searching for attention by any means possible. Last week he was barely refraining from tearing your clothes off and taking you on the counter in your kitchen. This is far more intimate. This is what he wants.

He wants to see the way your cheeks flush pink when his hands slide up your skirt, just enough to brush the calloused pad of his thumb over the delicate lace of your underwear. With bated breath, he wants to watch the way the late afternoon sun turns your hair into a halo of molten metal, cascading from the crown of your head in some glorious inferno.

The little sound of your breath hitching as he noses at your jaw is only the first nail in the cruelest of coffins, burying him alive under the crushing weight of his adoration for you. This, he thinks, this is what he's waited for. This is both his reward, and his punishment for the toil of his career, of his life. His reward, you, so sweet and soft in his lap, pliable as gold, glittering as the brightest of precious stones. Breaking you, breaking your pretty, trusting heart, is entirely out of the question. He'd rather shoot himself in the kneecaps. Walk headfirst into enemy territory and beg to be tortured. Step on a landmine. Any and all of it would be better than seeing you hurt.

Whilst he can't find the words for the way he adored you, he can most definitely find the actions.

Nothing, no man, has ever made you feel the way you do as Nikto eases you to lie back on the picnic blanket, hooking your knees over his shoulders. A kiss to your inner thigh. "I hope you don't mind people hearing, Princess. I intend to make you scream."

#cod mwii #cod mw2 #cod #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare #modern warfare #Nikto #cod nikto #Nikto x reader #nikto x y/n #nikto x f!reader #nikto x you #call of duty nikto #mwii nikto #celestialwhoree #say goodnight n go

64 notes · View notes

marlynnofmany · 12 hours

Text

Not Special, Part Two

(Part One is here)

Oscar Tennyson grabbed his purchases and hurried after the rest of his crew. As usual, they were walking quickly on their longer legs and bellowing for him to keep up. The teeth-and-scales Mighty had no patience for human weaknesses. Of which there were many.

But, as Oscar had just learned, there were some strengths as well. And he couldn’t wait to show them.

He scampered onboard before the door shut, wondering if they would actually leave without him if he dawdled too long. Probably not — who would handle their finances and hunting permits? They’d have to hire someone else, because they certainly didn’t want to do it themselves. But he didn’t want to test that.

He had much better things to test. While the stark metal walls vibrated with the engine’s revs, Oscar wove between scaled biceps and tails to his own quarters. He pressed the panel by the door, which was oversized and cracked like all of them on this ship. The Mighty were not fans of fiddly little buttons or keys. Not when they could have panels big enough to punch, which only broke sometimes.

When Oscar stepped through and closed the door behind him, he felt immediately relieved. This was his private space to decorate as he chose, without worrying that someone would take things down or make fun of him. Ship rules were clear about personal quarters. Oscar’s fake orchids and real cactus made the room homey, along with more posters than the walls could hold. They spilled onto the ceiling, lining it with nature scenes from Earth, sports figures he admired, media announcements, and a good number of fluffy kittens. This was the one spot on the ship where he could feel comfortable, and he was making the most of it.

The bag of refueling station supplies crinkled as he set it on his small table to remove the contents. A high-end store might have had Waterwill bags that evaporated after a day, but this place used regular old plastic. Inside were food cubes, bottled water, and the purchase he was most excited about: six cans of very weak caffeine.

He scanned the label. It was just like the other human had said. Tall cans in dramatic colors, but not much of substance inside. At least, not as far as the average human was concerned.

Oscar couldn’t wait until dinner time.

Before then, he had a permit to submit and several other things to check. The ship should be on the way to Argosha, which was notorious for welcoming outsiders in to hunt the Dagger Birds that were giving everyone so much trouble, but he had better get their paperwork in order anyway.

He grabbed his tablet and left his safe haven, heading back into the public parts of the ship where he could face taunts from any direction. Really, these guys were just like his cousins. At least it was familiar.

Fending off tiresome conversation — “How’s the weather down there?” “Why don’t you ask your mother?” —he reached the bridge and found a corner to stand in. The captain and the pilot were arguing about where to land when they reached Argosha.

“The main site will have more people to admire our ship!”

“The new one is closer to the hunting grounds!”

“Dagger Birds are overrunning the place; everywhere is a hunting ground!”

“Do you want to pay the damages for shooting a building instead of a bird? We can take it all out of your pay, if you want!”

“Fine, but if we land on some overgrown hedge and the ship is scratched, you get to pay for that!”

“Fine!”

The pair of them stopped yelling and sat back in their seats as if nothing at all was the matter, because it wasn’t. Polite disagreements were always held at that volume.

In the brief lull while the pilot manipulated the controls with more force than a lesser console could withstand, Oscar spoke up. “I’d like to come too.”

Both dinosaurian heads turned to stare at him in surprise. “Why?” the captain demanded. “One kick from a bird, and you’re useless to us.”

“Thanks,” Oscar said flatly. “I’ll keep out of the way. I want to take photos of your fighting prowess; I should be able to sell them.”

Both of the Mighty preened at that, as he’d known they would. Ego was big here. The captain agreed, and Oscar didn’t let slip any hints of his secret plan. He just finished working on his tablet, then retreated to his quarters to practice Dagger Bird mating calls.

The air on Argosha was breathable but hot, at least this part of it. Oscar was ready with his Tool in his pocket. (He’d gotten out of the habit of calling it a phone, since the Mighty were right in that it did a near-infinite number of things.) (He still smirked quietly at the potential innuendo, but it was a conversation he didn’t really want to have with giant dinosaur aliens, so he kept that to himself.)

“This way,” announced the captain, pointing in what looked like an arbitrary direction into the wilderness. Whooping with the alien equivalent of testosterone, the crew raised their blasters and tromped off the landing pad with Oscar following close behind.

True to his word, he did take some pictures as he went. But he was waiting for his moment.

It didn’t take long to come. The shouting scared off all the wildlife, then the Mighty found a boulder to crouch behind and wait for the creatures to come back. They played a silent counting game to see who was best at guessing when they’d spot something worth killing.

Distant footsteps on leaves made them smack each other in excitement, but nothing appeared between the trees.

Now or never, Oscar thought. Knowing better than to startled his crewmates, he whispered, “Here, let me.” Then he took a deep breath and let loose with his best imitation of a Dagger Bird seeking a mate. “Woarrrrrrk!”

While the Mighty shushed him and wondered what he was doing and started to figure it out, an answering woarrk sounded from nearby.

Then another, then, three.

Oscar wondered if he’d overplayed his hand.

No less than five large and eager Dagger Birds crashed through the undergrowth at once, croaking and flapping, taking offense at each other’s presence. The Mighty all roared and leapt out, firing in every direction.

Oscar dashed for a tree he’d been eyeing, the one with lots of branches, and didn’t stop climbing until he was out of beak-stabbing range. He held tight to the trunk, catching his breath and watching the chaos. Belatedly, he remembered to take out his Tool and snap some photos.

This was actually a good angle. He got a great shot of the captain aiming down the throat of a wide-open beak, then another a split second later when the beak snapped shut inches from his head. Another of the engineer shooting one from beneath. Two of the pilot tackling the largest bird and sinking teeth into the back of its neck where it couldn’t reach to stab.

Other species did their trophy hunting from a distance. The Mighty liked the fight as much as the kill. Their blasters were set on a deliberately low setting, and their teeth were sharp.

Safe up in his tree, Oscar grimaced at how bloody things were getting down below. He yelled another bird call to distract the one about to spear the crewmate who’d been knocked to the ground, and he got a cheerful “Nice save by the little guy!” which was as close to a thank you as he was going to get. The crewmate scrambled up and bit off a chunk while the bird was distracted. A couple of the crew looked like they were bleeding their own blood, but most of it was coming from the Dagger Birds, which were just as stubborn as the stories had said. Not one of them ran off. The last to die fell on top of somebody, which just added laughter from the rest of the crew to the triumphant cheers.

Oscar took a picture of the bird being dragged off his disgraced crewmate. That photo he wouldn’t sell, but would keep as minor blackmail if he ever needed it. Sticking it up on the wall to remind everyone of this moment could be a valuable strategic move.

“We are the MIGHTY!” bellowed the captain, and the whole crew joined in with a deep-voiced cheer. Oscar climbed down to more approval than he’d gotten in the last month.

“Good work by our human here! Who knew you could do that?”

“That’s sure an efficient way to hunt!”

“We should bring you out every time. That was great.”

Oscar took the praise with pride, not bothering with modesty. That was just another word for weakness as far as these guys were concerned.

He managed to dodge when one of them made to slap him on the back with a large bloodstained hand, which just made them laugh more. Luckily the captain directed everybody to gather their kills for dragging back to the ship, rather than chasing the human and messing up his clothes.

Oscar took a position on the lowest branch of his tree, taking a couple more photos as the victorious hunters figured out got to get it all home. If anyone had asked Oscar, which they never would, he’d have suggested going back for a hovercart, or taking them one at a time. But of course they did neither.

Definitely the type to insist on carrying all the groceries in at once, Oscar thought as his crewmates strained to drag the giant carcasses through the undergrowth. He hopped down and kept pace out to the side where there was no blood on the leaves.

They finally made it back to the ship, doing nothing to clean up the smears of blood they left on the landing pad. Oscar darted off to his quarters as soon as the door opened. The rest of them could handle getting the birds into cryo storage, or chopped up right away, whichever they saw fit to do. The lowest-ranking one without significant injuries would be in charge of clearing the blood from the hallways, but only after they’d all taken a walk through the water-and-air blast chamber that passed for a shower here. It had always reminded Oscar of a car wash.

He kept to himself until dinner, sorting his photos while everyone else dealt with the catch and the mess and the injuries. The mechanical medsystem on this ship was just as efficient as the shower. They’d all be in decent shape by mealtime.

And mealtime after a successful hunt was also drinking time.

Oscar usually ate in his room, wanting nothing to do with the raucous meat-tearing and drunkenness. But today was different, because he’d learned something valuable about the liquid they were getting drunk off.

Oscar considered the cans he’d bought, then decided it would have more of an impact if he just took one of the communal supply. So instead he grabbed his new food cubes and a premade tin of spaghetti from his mini-cryo, and followed the sound of laughter.

They were already a little drunk when he got there. Sprawled across chairs with a table full of meat slabs spilling over the edges of the plates. And as expected, there were tall purple cans everywhere.

“Heyyyy, it’s the little guy! Let’s hear it for the human with the surprise talent! Maybe you’re not useless after all!”

“Thanks,” Oscar said as they pounded fists against anything in reach as a form of applause. He leaned against the open doorway and shuffled his belongings so he could get a fork in a meatball without setting down the food cubes. “That was pretty easy where I’m from. You guys really can’t do that?” He popped the meatball into his mouth, casual as you please.

The Mighty of course, thought this was funny, and took it in stride. More gulps from their drinks, more savage mouthfuls of food, and a few questions about the surely-excellent photos he’d gotten, which would make them all look amazing.

Oscar said he’d share the best ones. These would make fine decorations in their own quarters, and would probably be appreciated by the right paying audience.

Then came the moment he’d been waiting for. The captain raised his drink in another cheer, and somebody noticed that the human was the only one without a can in his hand.

“Get the human a warrior’s drink!”

“Bet you he passes out after one sip.”

“Nah, he can take at least two.”

Oscar smiled quietly. If they’d been paying attention, they might have changed their bets at that smile. He set his food down in the hallway to free his hands. When one muscular, taloned arm offered him a can of their most potent intoxicant, he took it. Oh so casually.

Then he whipped his head back and chugged the whole thing.

“Oh! Human’s gonna die!”

“I’m not cleaning up the puke!”

“What the supernova! There are better ways to go than that!”

“Somebody drag him to medical so we don’t have to find somebody else to do the boring stuff.”

“Yeah, he was just getting interesting.”

Oscar ignored all of them, giving the empty can a thoughtful look. It felt like the same thin aluminum he remembered from Earth. And if there was anything his cousins had taught him, it was the proper way to dispose of a beer can.

He dug his fingertips in and crushed it against his forehead. Then while the room reacted to that, he wiped off the drips and threw the can across the room. When it went into the trash on the first try, he was internally very glad, but he didn’t let it show. Instead he picked up his food and resumed eating. “What’s the big deal?” he said. “Is that what you guys have been getting drunk off? How quaint.”

“How in all the black holes—”

“No, he’s gonna fall over any second; just watch.”

“Quaint, that’s hilarious.”

“He’s totally bluffing. Just wait and see.”

Oscar was enjoying being the center of the crew’s attention today. He made a show of sweeping his eyes across the various cans in the room. “None of you has finished a can yet, I see. Was that supposed to be strong?”

There was widespread laughing and elbowing of each other, most of them still clearly convinced that the silly little human was going to throw up and die any second now.

So Oscar set down his food, walked over to the table, and chugged a second one. It was a bit more liquid than his stomach was really happy with, but that was a small price to pay for the uproar that followed.

They exclaimed; they renewed their bets; they drank from their own cans; they got visibly drunker and abandoned their bets.

Oscar leaned against the doorframe, eating spaghetti and food cubes.

After one particularly unsteady crewmate tripped onto the table full of meat, and someone pointed out that the human wasn’t wobbling at all, Oscar said, “You guys don’t know much about my species, do you? Half of what I eat would liquify your insides.” He held up a food cube, eyeing the different colored specks of all the ingredients that made it balanced for an omnivorous digestive system. He laughed. “You guys just eat meat. How boring!”

They only got drunker after that. Oscar was pretty sure that the nearest two wanted to pat him on the back, but the floor was moving too much for them to make it all the way to the doorway. Somebody offered him a raw slab of Dagger Bird. He turned it down with casual scorn.

“Nah, meat isn’t worth eating unless it’s passed through fire. That’s weakling meat you’ve got there. Get back to me when it’s cooked brown.”

They loved that. The party was an epic one, only winding down when most of the crew was too drunk to reach more drinks. Oscar demonstrated his steadiness by picking through the mess to drop his food containers in the trash, then move back to the door.

“Well, it’s been fun,” he said. “I’ll send in the med-drone to make sure nobody’s going to wake up dead. Let me know if you want to get your tails handed to you by any more Dagger Birds. I’ll call ‘em in close for you again.”

He got groggy approval to that.

Oscar left with a smile on his face, and a mild amount of caffeine in his blood. Maybe after stopping by the medcenter, he’d use that energy on some exercise. Thoughts of the run to the hunting grounds, and the way his crewmates had paced themselves, suggested that it wouldn’t take much practice for him to out-endurance the Mighty on the VR treadmill.

I wonder what else I can do?

~~~~~~~~~

By popular request, this is the sequel to the story I posted last week, which is part of the ongoing series of backstory for the main character in this book. (It started that way, at any rate, and turned into a sprawling series in its own right. Fun stuff.)

Patreon opens the day after tomorrow, on May 1st! There's a free tier and everything if you want to keep up without strings attached! And you can even request more delightful nonsense like this.

Onward!

#multiple people wanted to see what happened next #and who am I to say no to that?#this is twice as long as the first story #because I had to cover everything #three cheers for this guy and his newfound respect #not to mention self-confidence #I imagine the dynamic will be different the next time he visits home and interacts with his cousins #noogies from a frat bro is nothing when you've dealt with macho space dinosaurs #anyways; other tags:#humans are weird #hfy #haso #eiad #humans are space orcs #my writing #The Token Human #writeblr #looking forward to the Patreon you guys #it's gonna be great

78 notes · View notes

waspredteeth · 8 hours

Text

I’ve noticed that a problem with the “Batman shouldn’t/should kill” debates around here is that a lot of people tend to self-insert themselves into the equation.

It’s always “if killing a violent guy in self defense is bad then I’m a murderer?” or “well, if it were me, I would’ve killed the guy a long time ago.”

Newsflash, you’re not Batman. You’re a real person where consequences can be applied and you need to live with whatever you’ve done.

Batman isn’t real. He’s a character owned by a massive company. In tense situations, you might often have no choice but to commit violence to save yourself. In a tense situation in DC, Batman has writers that can get him out of anything.

DC writers have the ability to write him out a situation where he could kill, with no violence committed and everyone safe. Now, whether or not they’d actually implement this kind of outcome is another issue entirely but the point stands.

Batman is a character with long-established personality, traits, moral code, history. Because he’s a fictional character, writers can’t change every single aspect of his character, they have to keep something otherwise they’re writing someone different. He’s not a real person whose sense of morality or justice can change as he ages and learns - because he can’t age. Rarely, he learns, but this chalks up to comics evolving over time due to the great conflicts/hot buttons of a specific time period when a story is being written.

“But Wasp! Writers self-insert themselves into Batman all the time!” You say. Yeah, they do. And 9 times out of 10, that piece of media turns out horribly wish-fulfilling and severely out of character continuity. Modern writers lost the plot when it comes to making Batman an undefeated god, but regardless he should be a hero.

Therefore, Batman shouldn’t kill because:

DC can always write him out of the necessity to kill.

He’s already been established for a long time to live and die by his own moral code.

He believes strongly in rehabilitative justice

He’s been established to be a symbol for a better Gotham. He kills, even discriminately, and then he’s no better than the hundreds of cops in his universe. Racism, classism, police brutality exist in Gotham. There’s full storylines and series about the GCPD and the role they fill in Gotham when Batman exists.

Batman does their jobs better than they do (usually). He’s supposed to represent justice in a way the police can never be. In a city like Gotham, fictional it may be, distrust and violence comes easy. Murder and assault runs rampant. A vigilante committing themselves to killing would do nothing to change Gotham, nothing to change the GCPD, nothing to project an image of safety, nothing for anyone.

Batman is Batman because he represents hope and compassion in a city without it.

#you want a vigilante that kills and is morally grey? read a damn Huntress comic #or Catwoman #or take your ass to Marvel Comics #Batman is never the character to project your personal belief in killing and death onto #you want to do that? stick to Jason #dc #dc meta #batman meta #batman #bruce wayne

46 notes · View notes

fotibrit · 19 hours

Note

what's your opinion on steves 'ending' in endgame? i generally feel like it sort of goes against a character arc of his, and a bit conflicting how much he did to not lose bucky and then sorta ditched it all the second he could actually exist with him once more, kinda also feels like a plot hole in some scenarios for his character and the future but i'm probably talking with some form of bias, I'm not too sure!! so I wanted to know another persons perspective on it!!

opinion: Was Bad

credentials: My very first introduction to Marvel was my best friend (hardcore Steve Rogers fan, called me “her Bucky”, was as insane abt Steve as i currently am abt tony) bringing me to see Endgame, and then her talking MAD SHIT about the ending for the next few months. I have heard every criticism. I learned that the ending was character assassination before i even know what character was being assassinated.

So. i don’t think it’s good. Getting into the Meta of the MCU for a sec, the MCY movies are partially paid for by the USA military etc etc so they reflect some political targets of the country. You gotta watch for propoganda in the movies. and in endgame, it was the happy little family. There was the family together in Wakanda, Tony being all domestic with his wife and daughter, Clint finally got to be back with his family. The snap brought back other family members, including don’t remember enough but generally… they were pushing the happy family thing. The US birth rate is down, and i imagine that part of the funding included some sort of push for more family imagery, in order to influence people to settle down together.

And then there’s Steve. Who has always had a found family, he’s out of time, away from his legal family. He doesn’t have any way to be included in this push for a family. My guess for what happened in the writers room is that they assumed everyone would fall for it hook line and sinker. that people would start believing, somehow, that birth family and nuclear family structures are most important.

If you look at it from the framework of their imagined audience, who thinks a nucular familg reunited is the happiest structure of all, Steve got a happy ending! He got to be with a hetero romantic partner!

Where they went wrong, is that nobody fuckin fell for it. Because it wasn’t convincing in the slightest. They spent hours after hours showing how desperately Steve cares for Bucky, and then they betray Steve’s primary motivation (keeping friends safe) in order to fit into their Nuclear Family Initiative.

they accidentally created a character who was the perfect encapsulation of an audience member who would NOT care most about a nuclear family unit. They made a character who cares most about a non-romantic partner. And then, they had to try to convince us that it was the same guy, while actively betraying his core values.

Bad ending. Wrong ending. Betrayed the audience and the character.

And it’s due to propoganda.

(side note: as far as i can tell, they’ve moved from “family unit” to “parenting is important”. Most blatant example i saw of this was in the last GotG, but it’s all over. they’re making everyone parents.)

#marvel mcu #avengers #hot take sorry

26 notes · View notes

a-hazbin-soul · 1 day

Text

Velvette x reader: Angel's adopted sister 1/?

Warnings: Valentino being a jackass, potential smut in the future

You parked your little black car near the V tower and made your way inside. You were always a little early picking up Angel Dust. Party because his schedule was a mess and a little bit because you loved watching Velvette work her magic.

"I should be done here in 40 minutes unless Val decides to be a dick."

"Okay, I'll be there soon."

It didn't take long for you to see Velvette getting annoyed at one of her models, but she somehow always found a few minutes to talk to you.

"Ugh, do none of you know anything about posture? There are children with better posture!" She said before she saw you. "Everyone take a break. And don't fucking get anything on those dresses!"

She walked up to you and grabbed one of your hands. Dragging you out of the doorway. "Y/N, doll, you got here at the perfect time. These models are driving me crazy!" She gave you a hug, and you both sat down on the new couch she brought

"Would you ever want to be a model? You're gorgeous and way smarter than at least half of these girls." Her compliment made your face as pink as her hair. You knew she didn't say things like that often.

"I never really thought about it. Do you really think I could do a good job?" Velvette smiled at you. "Y/N, I know you can." You heard your phone vibrate.

"Val must be sick. He's actually letting me leave on time. "

"Okay, I'll be right there."

Velvette wrote something down and handed it to you. "Here, think about it and call me when you can." You smiled and took the paper. "Thanks, Velvette. I'll talk to you later. "

You took the elevator to Val's studio and found Angel Dust. "Alright, let's go back to the hotel before your shitlord boss changes his mind again." Angel already had his stuff with him, and you guys took the elevator and quickly made it to the car.

"So, did you get to see your girlfriend today?" Angel said jokingly. "She's not my girlfriend. We just...talk sometimes." Angel gave you the, "Come on, you and I both know what you think about her." Look, and you started driving to the hotel. "I just want you to be careful. Don't let your guard down around any of the Vees."

There wasn't much traffic for once, and you got to the hotel pretty fast. "Huskers!" Angel yelled, running for his grouchy boyfriend. "Hey baby, me and Nuggets missed you." Said pig ran from behind the bar to meet his dads.

You sat on the couch in the lobby for a little while, barely paying attention to some movie and adding Velvette to your contacts.

Y/N : Hey Velvette, it's Y/N. Text me when you get a chance.

A few minutes later, you decided to go to bed. Your room was a decent distance from anyone else, so nobody would hear you taking a shower.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning, you woke up to a text from Velvette.

Velvette: Hey doll. I know Angel has to work today (Valentino won't shut up), so I was wondering if you wanted to take some photos today? Some of these models are driving me crazy! - ♡

You had thought about it, and at the very least, you'd be able to keep an eye on Valentino since he never stopped bugging Velvette. And, modeling could be fun.

Y/N: Yes, I would love to. I'll be there when I drop Angel off.

Velvette: Can't wait!

After breakfast and getting ready, Angel kissed Husker goodbye, and you headed to VVV tower.

"Do you want me to go in there with you? I hate having to leave you with that rotten jiz rag." Angel Dust pulled into a hug with all four arms. "I'll be okay, sis. I'm used to him. You said you'd see each other later, and he told you to be safe.

He made it to his dressing room and sighed after closing the door. You weren't Molly, and you could never replace her. But Angel didn't know what he would do without you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part two will be out soon!

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel x you #vivziepop #vivziepop hazbin hotel #velvette x fem reader #velvette x fem!reader #velvette x reader #velvette x you #velvette x y/n #angel dust #hazbin angel dust #hazbin hotel angel dust #angel dust x husk #angel dust x reader #platonic angel dust x reader

30 notes · View notes

rabbitcrimes · 7 hours

Text

Wangxian Fic Rec: Science Fiction Double Feature 🤖🚀

Mostly wangxian fics with sci fi elements - space, dream science, mindlink, androids, cyberpunk cities etc

Out of Nothing by Pip (Moirail) - zhanchengxian - 27k Summary: You and me, Wei Ying had said. Jiang Cheng is going to take him at his word. Command says that the first neural link is the one that stands out the most, the one that everyone has to be the most careful of, because a navigator’s thoughts can get tangled up with their pilot’s and become inextricably linked. Entangled. My Notes: All time fave. If I ever shut up about this fic you should assume I've been body snatched. Transhumanism, nostalgia, space opera, mindlink.

In Imitation of Life by travelingneuritis - wangxian - 70k Summary: Lan Zhan stops in front of one of the bespoke duplicates— a male figure, small, creamy-skinned and lithe. The name on the plinth reads Mo Xuanyu. Lan Zhan tested it on his first pass through the room. The doll was empty. No signals bouncing around its artificial brain, no operating programs queued to autostart. Not even a blinking dormancy light. "Hey big guy," says Mo Xuanyu, chrome eyes sparkling with fun. "Who do I gotta fuck around here to get unplugged?" Wei Ying is a rogue AI come to life. Lan Zhan is… handling it. My Notes: This is my Neuromancer. Actually one of my favorite cyberpunk cities EVER. When I figured out what OP was doing with the city and plot structure I legitimately went insane. Android erotics, cyberpunk city.

More fics under the cut!!

via AMONG THE STARS BY PLONK (a series of oneshots set in Firefly's CU, all really excellent but I want to draw attention a few all time faves) A Monk and a Myth - wangxian Summary: take_me_to_church.mp3 My Notes: This is THE and I mean THE final word on science fictional religiosity and devotion. Can not imagine trying to tackle those concepts without having read this. Man as myth, folk heroes, Lan Zhan's canon typical devotion. a grease monkey, a companion, and some pals aboard the lil apple - wangxian My Notes: Lan Wangji is a very prim and classy companion (in universe style of sex worker) and Wei Wuxian is a ship repair guy and Lan Wangji teaches him the ways of the secular flesh. My fucking god do I think about this sex scene all the time. Like, weekly. a chatty mechanic and a silent academy survivor aboard the lotus - wangxian genderswap Summary: Just really excellent. Wei Wuxian is a ship mechanic and Lan Wangji has psychic abilities from medical experimentation from which she's been rescued. Solidly space western, the end of this one is just wonderful. Love the mindlink elements here. escapees aboard the radish - wangxian Summary: So absolutely crazy about this one. Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji are both ex academy students or have both been victims of psychic medical experiments. I love it as a story about trauma and living in aftermath. Mindlink.

promises of the future by spookykingdomstarlight - wei wuxian/wei wuxian - 3k Summary: His ocular sensors spin themselves to life. In the mirror, he sees himself. And he sees himself, himself but different, reflected from the mirror he’s resting against into the mirror he’s facing. Himself but slighter, features sharper. Himself, with eyes brightened by the power of a star. Himself, crouched above himself, close enough to kiss. My Notes: Yes you read that pairing right!! Give it up for robot eroticism!!!! Android erotics, cyberpunk sensibility.

some lovely, perilous think by varnes - wangxian - 24k Summary: Jingyi makes a sympathetic sound. “I’ve got a buddy in one of the Hefei labs, and he says there’s some evidence to suggest that people stuck in limbo develop, like, whole new neural pathways. And you go in and out of it all the time, right, so who knows what your brain is up to.” His eyes light up. “Oh man, would you let me — ” “Obviously no,” Wei Ying says, voice flat. “But you’re close enough to right. I can keep you all safely in the level, but it’s tiring. I can’t be both dreamer and extractor.” “I’ll do it,” Lan Zhan cuts in, before Jingyi can protest or Wen Yuan can ask any further questions. “It’s not a problem.” “Are you sure?” Wen Yuan asks, brow furrowing. “If your sub-security picks up that Xian-gege doesn’t belong — ” “They won’t.” Wei Ying frowns. “Not for nothing, ge,” he says slowly, “but the last time we were in your dream together, I fell off a cliff.” Lan Zhan looks up and over at him. There is something in his eyes that Wei Ying can’t quite read: something fierce, and faraway. “I remember,” he says, voice quiet. “Do you?” - Wei Ying takes a dream heist job with an old friend. My Notes: God this is wonderful. We've got a full cast and some case/heist fic flavoured science fictional elements. I think it plays very nicely with a lot of the other cool mindlink stuff on this list.

world.runExecution by pip (moirail) - zhanchengxian - 30k IN PROGRESS Summary: What does it mean to be human, anyway? “Here we go,” Wei Ying mumbles, and Jiang Cheng doesn’t have the chance to ask what that means before Wei Ying’s squaring up his shoulders and moving in a way that cuts a swath through the crowd. My Notes: my group chat commissioned this for FTH in 2022 and it remains the love of my life. Pip you beautiful genius. CYBERPUNK I LOVE YOU.

i will be chasing a starlight by feyburner, sundiscus - wangxian - 71k Summary: “You know what?” Wei Ying said. “I think we should be friends.”

“Vulcans do not have friends,” said Lan Zhan. He was staring very determinedly at the screen in front of him.

Wei Ying frowned at him. “That can’t be right.” My Notes: I am so insanely crazy town about this fic. God there has not been a filler entry on this list YET! below the clouds, above the lakes by northofallmusic (tofsla) - wangxian - 22k UNFINISHED Summary: Wei Ying was not formally considered a Jiang until it became necessary for a Jiang to marry a Lan as a guarantee of alliance. Now, in the habitat dome which houses the palace known as the Cloud Recesses, he has to navigate a new role, a new marriage, and an unfamiliar tangle of political relationships and loyalties. My Notes: I remember LOVING the worldbuilding on this and really enjoying the space OP was playing in, I thought it was worth a read. Thank you so much to everyone who recommended fics!! It's coming to my attention that this list is going to get massive so I'll reblog as I read and update it 🚀

#absolutely loving how much mindlink this fandom produces #you guys are so smart ur brains are huge and i love you #put a BUNCH of stuff in my to - read so i'll update as i go :)#wangxian fic rec #fic rec

22 notes · View notes