#Mind you I would not take any amount of money to go in a real submersible anywhere in the actual sea

[ttngummybear]

Gonna say something silly-ish.

One of my deepest childhood wishes was to have a box I could climb into and pretend it was a submarine.

My request from my parents for christmas when I was 16 was literally for the biggest cardboard box they could get ahold of.

I spent months collecting random loose buttons that clicked when pressed, little switches and lights and everything. I wanted to absolutely deck this thing out.

Unfortunately, my parents couldn't find a box I would fit in, so I never got it.

I wish I could build the thing I want. I literally want a little pod with a control panel in it, and screens all around to represent windows, and I want to get in there and play some kind of ocean exploration simulator where I pilot around a submarine. Hell, multiple ones. Imagine a special edition of subnautica you play from this thing, spending the whole game in a submersible. Imagine playing iron lung in it.

[sweet-as-an-angel]

how about yan!dilf finding out that his darling has an onlyfans account?

Yandere DILF! Reaction to You Having an OnlyFans

Warnings: 18+, Smut, Manipulation, Blackmail, Infidelity, Pet Names, No Pronouns Used For Reader Except You.

Wordcount: 4364 words

♡ Good Lord, WHO gave this man internet access.

♡ Going to keep it real with you, babe, you’re finished if he finds your OnlyFans account. And so is he (in more ways than one) – but more on that later.

♡ Let’s say Domninic’s many, many hours of internet sleuthing (stalking) have led him to the pearly gates of your Only Fans account, the only thing separating him from whatever lies on the other side being a pay wall. One of the only kinds of walls that can’t stop Dominic.

♡ Of course, he buys a subscription. Of course, he does it under an alias, through an unlisted online banking app, on a burner laptop.

♡ And, upon seeing what you’re offering, he’s glad he took so many precautions.

♡ At first, the two emotions Dominic has felt most commonly throughout his lifetime flash in his ribcage, dance along the edge of his eyelids – make his eyes grow heavy.

♡ Lust and rage.

♡ Lust for the obvious. Rage for that which shouldn’t have angered Dominic.

♡ In a lot of ways, Dominic is a traditionalist; one’s significant other is for their partner and nobody else (even if Dominic doesn’t abide by this logic himself). Thus, to see you, the person he wishes he’d married, the person he knows is fated to be his, spreading their legs for any guy with enough money to buy a coffee, mortifies him.

♡ One, because you’re his. Two, because you sell yourself for such a low price.

♡ Dominic’s too wrapped up in his wrath to see to the vague throbbing between his legs. He’ll just make it Marilyn’s problem later when she returns from book club or whatever it is she does these days – and continue to make it her problem well into the morning when she struggles to emerge from bed, her legs buckling beneath the weight of his anger.

♡ For now, he paces around his office, checks the camera inside the bear he’d given to you months before.

♡ How had he not noticed sooner? He watched the footage from that bear enough times that he can recite everything you’ve ever said, can predict everything you’re going to do, has memorised all the unconscious quirks you adopt when you think no one’s watching.

♡ Dominic comes to the conclusion that you must be conducting your business in another location. One where you won’t be so easily found.

♡ Sure, he could go out, follow you to this location when you think you’re alone. He could even pay someone else to do it. But, amidst his rage, an idea sparks.

♡ No, he has a much better, much more cunning trick up his sleeve.

♡ The next day, Dominic comes to you with an offer he knows you can’t refuse.

♡ “Marilyn and I are going out tomorrow night and we’d like for you to babysit the boys for us.”

♡ You tried to refuse. You tried to make up a reason less nefarious than the one you held in your mind as to why you couldn’t do it. And Dominic only smiled, his eyes never crinkling, the sentiment never reaching them. He looked through you.

♡ He offered to raise your pay to an amount you both couldn’t accept and couldn’t pass up.

♡ This newfound amount was, considering how few subscribers you had on OnlyFans, irresistible. A godsend, in some respects. Especially when Dominic began taking his wife out more and more frequently, needing you to care for his children more often than not.

♡ To Marilyn, Dominic was finally, finally, trying to fix their marriage. To make good on the world he’d promised her those twenty-or-so years ago when he’d imprisoned her in a loveless marriage.

♡ To you, Dominic was being an understanding neighbour who was offering you a chance at a normal living wage out of the kindness of his heart.

♡ To Dominic, it was all a ploy to get you right where he wants you.

♡ The weeks passed. Dominic kept a close eye on your OnlyFans page.

♡ It would soon be time for you to upload your newest batch of material. If you ever found the time to do so, of course. What, with all the extra work Dominic had given you, he wouldn’t be surprised if you’d forgotten. Or simply hadn’t the time.

♡ It mattered little to Dominic now. He knew he had you on the ropes.

♡ The shift from one foot to the other as he offered you yet another night to babysit his boys, only for your eyes to lower. Uneasy.

♡ You’d tried the old “I’m sorry, Mr. Laurier–”

♡ “Please, (Y/N), we’ve been over this.” He smiles down at you. “Call me Dominic.”

♡ You try again.

♡ “Dominic – I’m sorry, but I just don’t think I’ll be able to tonight–”

♡ And Dominic used the tried and tested: “Oh…is it the pay? I can pay you more, if that’s the issue–”

♡ Issue. You’re making a problem out of this, not him.

♡ You backpedal. You sigh. You try to stand your ground.

♡ Unfortunately for you, the ground you’re standing on is merely a sheet Dominic is going to pull out from under you at any moment.

♡ You tried. Really, you did. Tried to reject Dominic’s kindness.

♡ And he looks down at you. He’s too beautiful for a grimace, he knows this. He puts on a mask he’s sculpted just for this moment – the false front.

♡ “I see,” he says, his voice low. His gaze shifts off to the side. He pretends to look for the right words to say. He already has them in his back pocket.

♡ “I understand. It’s just that…well…” He sighs. Places a hand on his hip. A change in posture. Something’s shifted about him. You’re paying attention, the oncoming of regret starting to form in the pit of your stomach.

♡ Dominic looks you dead in the eyes.

♡ “Don’t…tell anyone I told you this,” he looks behind him. Turns back to you. “But, Marilyn and I don’t really trust anyone else with our babies – we only keep asking you because…well, you’re brilliant with them.”

♡ He says it like it’s common sense. Flattery is every manipulator’s best friend.

♡ He senses reservation in you. He keeps going.

♡ “And…no, forget it, it’s fine. We’ll just cancel,” he smiles down at you. This time, the smile does reach his eyes. Makes it look like he’s hiding something else. Sorrow.

♡ You gasp inwardly, you take a step towards him.

♡ “Oh, I’m sorry! No, no, I can watch them tonight. I’ll just…do my work tomorrow,”

vYou try to smile. Dominic’s becomes genuine.

♡ “You sure? We–” Marilyn and I, halve the blame– “wouldn’t want to be keeping you from anything important.”

♡ You assure him they aren’t. That he isn’t. He’s won this round.

♡ He puts his hand on your shoulder. You’ve known each other long enough now that this is no longer a gesture that would inflict upon Dominic a problem he’d be lumbered with until he can, quite literally, take it into his own hands, and that you don’t flinch beneath his touch.

♡ There will be time enough for that. He knows this.

♡ And so, Dominic leaves you with an estimation of the time of his outing and his arrival. 

♡ “We’ll be back before you know it,” he says. He smiles at you from the front door, the handle in his grip. He leaves, his victory ringing in his head, making his heart thrum.

♡ And he didn’t even need to bust out the old ‘My marriage is failing’ shtick.

♡ True to his word, Dominic and his wife leave early into the evening, a rehash of their sons’ bedtimes and snack preferences no longer necessary. Second nature to you now.

-

♡ Your work – your OnlyFans content – played on your mind for the whole evening. Time seemed to slip away and stand still – paradoxy – as you pleaded inwardly for Dominic and Marilyn to return.

♡ The hours bled into one another, tearing away from what you could have been doing instead of guarding the house while Marilyn’s children slept upstairs, for truly they were more Marilyn’s offspring than they were Dominic’s.

♡ A half hour passed. Forty-five minutes. An hour.

♡ You came to face the possibility – the likely reality – that you would simply have to announce to the few followers you had that there would be no new content this month; that you would supply them with what they paid for twice over in a few weeks’ time. And pray that you actually had an audience patient enough to outlast your absence before that.

♡ Amidst your planning of damage control, an idea poked its head from the shadows. A failsafe. A sequel to your desperation.

♡ You could always just…take a few pictures here.

♡ The idea flashed in your mind like a life alternate to your own; past, with the certainty of already having been lived. All consequences already tangible. Foreseen.

♡ Perhaps that was why the anxiety associated with such expeditions into unfamiliarity had failed to catch up with you.

♡ Or, perhaps something masked it. Desperation, or one of its subsidiaries.

♡ Of course, you tried to stifle the idea. Tried to suffocate it with the smoke through which it walked. Though, its fiery grasp had mastered the art of survival.

♡ It wouldn’t go away. Much like Dominic’s lingering gaze whenever his wife was out of eye-shot and only you remained.

♡ Ten minutes crawled by and you almost wished for the rapidity with which the last hours had passed to find you, seek you out amidst this frozen landscape Time had entombed you in.

♡ And, as is the folly of man, you entertained that which should not be. You considered the likelihood – the schematics – of indulging such a proposition.

♡ Nobody was home and the boys were asleep, out of the way. Most rooms were large enough and devoid of personality so to mask your location – especially if the Lauriers had more of the sterile white sheets they laid their bed with.

♡ Then, a memory.

♡ A basement, tucked away between the folds of your psyche as its location within the house. You recalled the couple having one – a sizable one at that – when Dominic had invited you down there with him to retrieve more seating for his lawn party.

♡ You knew where it was. Knew where the keys were kept.

♡ And so, with a hammering heart and a withering step, you sought your fortune.

♡ The keys were easily enough discovered. As was the creaking door of the basement. And, upon your descension – biblical in your visage as the light from the hallway, dim as it were, cast a glow about your silhouette amidst the depths of the basement – you found precisely what you needed.

♡ A space – clean, untouched – equipped with white sheets covering a mass of boxes. Sure, they were creased; stained with Age’s attempts at youth, gripping onto the sheets and leaving his spectral marks – wrinkles – in their cotton-thin sheets, but they were there.

♡ You cast a keen ear to the ceiling, the living room floor, every few minutes as you looked for a place to start filming, a place to lay the sheets down, something to cover your face.

♡ You find a place, retrieve a Halloween mask from one of the boxes, and, without much deliberation, begin filming.

♡ What you do is nobody’s business but your own. Well, yours and the hungry men who survey your account for any crumbs you deign to feed them.

♡ What you don’t hear through the conduct of your business is the return of the home’s owner.

♡ Dominic hung up his coat, made little show of announcing his presence, and went straight for the basement.

♡ Don’t ask how he knew you’d be there.

♡ His steps grew more deliberate, louder, the closer he grew.

♡ You didn’t even know he was home until it was too late.

♡ At the height of your percussion, just when you were about to reach the moment of your video that would make the lead up worth it, something hit the floor behind you.

♡ You jumped. Whipped round to see what had happened.

♡ And there was Dominic. Hair black as the corners of the room, eyes void of any discernible emotion as he looked down at you, arms crossed over his chest, the top of his shirt undone by two buttons, not even out of his work clothes.

♡ You fumbled, the apologies, explanations and defences lodged in your throat as you choked to get them out, slamming your thighs together and reaching for the camera in your bid to shut it down. You tore the mask from your head, revealing blushed cheeks and a light sheen of sweat forming from the neck up.

♡ Dominic made sure to stay out of the camera’s line of sight, to remain only an anonymous spectator as he circled the room. He said nothing. Did nothing. Just watched and waited, walking.

♡ It was only after he knew the camera was off, your confidence in tatters around you, that he approached.

♡ You tried explaining, but he just shushed you.

♡ “No need to explain, my Dear,” he told you. He sighed, deeply, brought the corner of his lip between his teeth. He donned the veneer of disappointment.

♡ “I suppose I’m just…shocked,” he said. He leaned against a stack of boxes, solid against his back. He ran a hand through his hair and looked off somewhere. “I never knew you were…that kind of person,”

♡ The way he said that, like it had bleached his tongue just to speak it, made your heart sink lower.

♡ “I mean, what do we do now?” He made sure he gave you an incredulous glance, feigned disappointed abashment. “I pay you to look after my sons and I find you here, doing…” He looked to the camera, briefly, then away. As if he could still see what you had done on the tiny screen attached to it.

♡ You apologised profusely, tried to defend yourself: “Mr. Laurier, please – I didn’t– I never–”

♡ He didn’t interrupt you. He let you tie yourself in knots. Like a pretty present, all for him.

♡ Once you had exhausted your ability to explain yourself, Dominic let your fear hang for a moment, let it sink before you like a darkness bowing the ceiling above you. The singular lightbulb flickered.

♡ Dominic sighed. Pushed off the boxes. Came to you.

♡ “Honestly, (Y/N), if you were that desperate for money, you could’ve just asked.”

♡ He knew that wasn’t why you were doing this. But he also knew you’d accept whatever out he gave you. You listened.

♡ “Have I not been paying you enough? Have I misvalued your capabilities for this position?”

♡ The way his eyes flickered to your locked-together legs as he said position made your skin shiver.

♡ “Or…” he looked down on you. Relaxed his posture.

♡ “Is there perhaps some other reason you chose to…conduct yourself here?”

♡ When you didn’t answer, trying to decode his crypticism, he cocked his head ever so slightly to the side.

♡ “Could it be that you…wanted me to find you like this?”

♡ You tried to deny it, tried your utmost to say you’d never do such a thing to anyone, least of all your married neighbour and employer, but Dominic would hear none of it.

♡ “I’m flattered, really.” He says. He cast his eyes down, as if mulling over a secret. “My wife and I’s deteriorating marriage must be worse than I thought if it was so apparent to you of all people.”

♡ You knew such a comment, especially under these circumstances, shouldn’t have stung the way it did. Dominic only let you ruminate on it for a moment.

♡ “Maybe you wanted to show me something you knew Marilyn couldn’t.”

♡ Your jaw dropped. Dominic came to stand behind the camera. He toyed with it, general, not looking at anything in particular. You begged that he wouldn’t find a way to review the footage.

♡ Domonic stood back, looked down at you.

♡ “How about a compromise,” he offered. You watched him, eyes wide, heart pounding, stomach churning, breath short. He gave a pale smile.

♡ “You help me burn off some of the tension I’ve had building up over the last few weeks,” his eyes darkened. “And we’ll never speak a word of what happened here tonight.”

♡ Your words caught in your throat again.

♡ You knew Dominic was attractive, sure, but to help him cheat on his wife? And one so kind and loving as Marilyn–

♡ Your head span. Dominic had thrown you a lifeline.

♡ With a sigh, you evaluated your options.

♡ Your OnlyFans rarely made enough money to keep you financially independent, even for a short while; you had more to lose if you couldn’t keep your babysitting job. And you knew there was no chance Dominic would let you babysit again if he thought this was what you’d be doing during the dark hours of the evening.

♡ And what if he told Marilyn? What if she told their neighbours, your parents–

♡ In your vulnerability, your worry for your own preservation, you quietly agreed.

♡ And besides, you rationalised with yourself as the weight of the situation, of Dominic settling behind you, sank in. Better for Marilyn that he’s doing this with me rather than someone she doesn’t know, right?

♡ Given your bottom half was already bare, Dominic didn’t have to waste time undressing you himself. Though, under any other circumstances, he’d have jumped at the privilege.

♡ He’d often dreamed of this entire process being slower, gentler, and in the comfort of a bed in some lush space – usually a hotel. Not the sheet-covered ground of his cold basement.

♡ That evening, the mask Dominic wore was that of the common thief, for from you he stole your dignity. Your future.

♡ What you hadn’t realised was, as Dominic had been stood by the camera, he’d set it to record. Premeditated.

♡ You didn’t question why he pulled the mask from beside you onto his head. You just assumed, in your post-panic haze, that this was something he was into. Something he hid from Marilyn.

♡ Dominic still wore his work pants and had them pulled down to the bottom of his thighs. He’d also done away with his shirt from what you could feel of his skin; he radiated heat like you’d never felt before, even when you’d been in close proximity to him prior to this.

♡ You didn’t even have chance to think of much, to let the guilt and abashment of this whole situation weigh in on you as, with Dominic’s hands about your waist as if to steady you, he pushed in, filling you by an inch or two. 

♡ You were easy to penetrate given your recent activity, but that only served to quell the stretch by a slight margin. You gasped, jolted, and Dominic’s grip about your middle tightened. He pulled you back, inadvertently pushing more of himself into you. You bit your lip, trying not to enjoy the mortifying implications of this entire affair, the feeling of being filled by the man who held your future in his hands.

♡ He was, regardless of whether you’d done this before, nothing like you’d ever experienced. He alternated between being gentle and rough, eventually lodging himself inside you entirely and guiding you up and down his shaft at a rate that suggested patience. Just a minute later, he’d pick up the pace, pulling out and slamming back in, pushing you down so he could reach the deeper parts of you.

♡ And all the while, you could feel a tightness below your stomach. One which, to your panic, strengthened whenever you considered that you were helping a married man cheat on his wife, that your situation was buried beneath so many layers of complexity you feared you’d never see the light of clarity again.

♡ A married man. One who, if his soft touches and stifled moans were anything to go by, held rather a fondness for you in this moment.

♡ Dominic didn’t talk at all throughout the entire encounter, opting only to communicate with an occasional squeeze to your thighs, reaching around to your front to touch you in ways that had you whining and crying, and tugs to your hair whenever you tried to hide your face in your hands.

♡ The whole sordid affair hadn’t unfolded exactly how Dominic had wished – dreamed – it would.

♡ In his dreams, it had been gentler – consistently so. More private. Though, no less taboo.

♡ Now, he was harsher. Rough, though not enough to hurt you. Just enough to make sure you felt every inch of him; just what these subscribers of yours would pay to see.

♡ Dominic pressed close to you as the camera recorded, your face exposed for whoever came into possession of the video to see.

♡ Of course, so long as you remained an obedient little pet, Dominic would never have to release it to anyone.

♡ The transaction, one which left you breathless and sweltering, finished only when Dominic did. He made sure you were satiated, too, something to think about over the coming weeks as you curated more content for your subscribers, every moment no doubt a reminder of your encounter with him.

♡ Afterwards, he removed himself, though with much hesitance. He’d finally, finally attained that which he wanted most – you – and yet it hadn’t been under the circumstances he’d romanticised for so long.

♡ He tried not to think about it, storing it with the rest of the undesirable humanisms he had locked away elsewhere in his psyche. He focussed only on how explosive it had felt, how…alive he was in comparison to all the other times he’d been with someone, using them as nothing more than a mannequin to pump himself with rather than someone to give himself to.

♡ He let you lie on the floor, a blanket draped over you as he sorted himself out. He clicked the camera off, took out the memory card and kept it firmly attached to his palm – all while you weren’t looking, weren’t listening, senses still dazed with all Dominic had given you, done to you.

♡ As he removed the mask, there was a sheen to his skin and a passive glint in his smile that suggested something inhuman and false about him. Something you discovered too late, it would seem.

-

♡ After that evening, you had no choice but to continue on as if nothing had happened. For so long as Dominic was in possession of that night – that memory card – nothing had. You, of course, knew nothing of the card at first. Not until Dominic had let it slip that the camera had been rolling the entire time.

♡ And still, you didn’t question his use of the mask. The serendipitous timing of it all. You could hardly breathe for the ocean boiling in your stomach, your heart bleaching white and your brain paling as you realised you’d just filmed a sex tape that could ruin not just your life, but Dominic’s too.

♡ Oh, if only you knew just how little Dominic cared.

♡ Dominic told you not to worry, that he’d salvaged the memory card and put it somewhere safe only to now return it to you.

♡ He’d duplicated the video, of course. That, he kept somewhere even safer.

♡ Sure, he’d allowed you to upload it to your account when you asked him with wide eyes, your face blurred and his figure already unrecognisable to any of your simps. You still needed content, after all, so why not profit off your late-night tryst with your neighbour?

♡ Which was what led you to come to him now, eyes downcast as he stood before you, arms crossed, smile ready to split his face in half and reveal the parasites that made up his interior.

♡ The truth you gave him? Your account had garnered a great deal of traction since your…uploaded encounter. About three thousand new subscribers, to be exact.

♡ “Oh?” Dominic offered. “And why are you telling me this, mon Chèr? Do you plan on splitting your earnings with me?”

♡ He graced you with his charm, his humour. Tried keeping the situation light.

♡ A redness rolled across your face. Dominic smiled, slim and sly, and allowed you to foster his silence, his attention.

♡ You suggested filming something else. Something that could make the guilt you felt for your last encounter with him feel half worth it.

♡ Nothing ever would, of course. But you could at least try.

♡ And so began a lustrous alliance between yourself and Dominic, the man who had once been your neighbour, then your employer, now your owner.

♡ He used you as he pleased, donned the mask and bent you over under the guise of being the conduit for your growing fanbase. In reality, the scorching, pulsating, blistering reality you inhabited with him, you were his. His star who he made and will break when he sees fit.

♡ So long as he had that memory card, and the growing catalogue of blackmail you keep adding to in your bid to chase what you thought was the weight of your self-worth in cash, you were his.

♡ Infidelitous, yes. But that mattered little to Dominic. Nothing mattered more now that he had you in his hands, whimpering for him, coming undone for him, all while he maintained the safe anonymity of both his mask and the façade of a loving, caring family man.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

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[wisteriaiswriting]

𝕋𝕒𝕟𝕜 𝔻𝕒𝕥𝕖 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤

Type of date | Location | Are they romantic? | How much money will they spend | What happens after | Blurb

Words: 1679

𝔻.𝕍𝕒:

She isn’t one for big, fancy dates. So she much prefers staying indoors playing video games.

She’ll drag you along to arcades. Making sure you two have the whole place to yourselves.

Isn’t as romantic as she thinks. It’s always interrupted by her giggling.

No matter how much you spend it won't make a dent in the amount she has. And she’s willing to let you use as much as possible.

She'll likely become tired. So she’ll fall asleep and in turn trapping you in her arms.

***

“Let’s go!”

“Finally, I thought you would never win.” Your celebrating was mixed with her teasing. You two had been playing Mario Kart for hours, with you just now winning a round.

Tempted as you were to play another round, wanting to show her you weren’t as bad as she said. Pausing when you felt a weight on your shoulder, slowly looking over to see Hana.

She had fallen asleep, in turn falling onto your shoulder. Her sleeping quickly turned into cuddles, taking her place on your lap.

Maybe a nap wouldn’t be too bad.

𝔻𝕠𝕠𝕞𝕗𝕚𝕤𝕥:

He much prefers the fancier things in life, so no surprise when he takes you to a 5 star restaurant.

He’ll reserve a private room for the both of you, making sure you’re getting the best things you deserve.

Is a real romantic and he knows it too.

Money means absolutely nothing to him when compared to you. He can give you his card to buy anything but there's no way you could make a dent in it.

When his romantic mood strikes it lasts for a while. Pulling you into a walt with him, making sure you're laughing and having fun during it.

***

The night was still young and Akande wasn’t going to waste it. Still in your outfits as he pulled you into his arms, the classical music playing faintly in the background.

It was one he had been practicing since he was a child, ingrained in his memories. And he wanted to make plenty of new ones with you. Pulling you closer as the song finished, letting the next one continue before starting the next dance.

𝕁𝕦𝕟𝕜𝕖𝕣𝕢𝕦𝕖𝕖𝕟:

She already thinks being around her is good enough so you’ll have to convince her to do something, which would be watching her fight and win.

Gonna be around Junkertown, either in the arena watching her from her throne there or in her actual throne room.

Much less romantic and more flirty. She has no clue about romance, absolutely none.

Technically none so don’t go out of Junkertown, but when inside you won’t need any anyways.

If you’re not a junker she’s taking you for a tour, but if so you’re going right up to her room and throne room.

***

All you could hear is the yelling, shouting and screaming of the Junkers around you. Odessa had won another fight, not that anyone was surprised.

Watching everyone leave, still loudly chattering away. During that time she was making her way back up to the throne, making it clear when he returned.

“How was that?” Her arms opened just to pull you into a hug, picking you up off the ground.

“Another win isn’t new, so predictable!” Suddenly throwing you up into the air, letting you fall into her arms in a bridal carry. A giant smile on her face.

“Let's celebrate!”

𝕄𝕒𝕦𝕘𝕒:

I’m going to be honest here, he can only cook very few foods. He will insist on a cooking date, just supervise him, you’ll need to.

As he’s part of Talon (So are you likely) so the only place you two can safely go to is the base.

Is more on the flirty side rather than romantic, but he can try tone down the flirting but you’ll need to ask him most times.

Normally he wouldn’t care about the price of things, but with you? It doesn’t even pass his mind once.

Even if you two cooked earlier he needs a bit to fill him up, so it’s likely you’ll have to cook again. But if you don’t want to, he'll find someone else for the both of you.

***

He wanted to give you a surprise breakfast in bed, except for the fact both of you were standing in the kitchen. By now he knew your favourite kind so he was quick to start.

“Mauga, what are you doing?”

“Huh?” Brought back to attention, realizing he had stopped cooking and was staring at you. You learnt when the fire alarm was going off. The food had become burnt, not even you wanted to try it.

“Why don’t we order in?”

ℝ𝕒𝕞𝕒𝕥𝕥𝕣𝕒:

Takes you to a small and simple cafe.

Much prefers to stay at base, but if you want to go somewhere he will take you.

He doesn’t even try cause he has no clue what he’s doing, seeing no use in romance, unless you really want it.

Has plenty of money to spend due to various jobs and resources, and he allows you to spend a lot of it. Will watch what you buy to figure out what you enjoy.

He will return to work but you can stay around if you’d want. Might even let you sit on his lap.

***

He had no idea what you wanted to do, so he ended up on the internet. Looking up ideas that seemed good, ending up on the idea of a cat cafe. You enjoyed cats and food, well he hoped. While he couldn’t understand all these attachments if it made you happy he’d be fine.

The date started simple, while you ordered food he looked around at the cats. There was a range, from calicos to ragdolls. While he looked he didn’t see the cat walking up to you, a plain black cat.

It nudged you, causing your attention to shift.

“Ram, it looks like you!” Holding it up even as it shifted, only getting comfortable. It was a plain black, short haired adult, sporting a purple collar.

“It does.” Maybe he’d look for one similar to you.

ℝ𝕖𝕚𝕟𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕕𝕥:

Enjoys walking around a market, able to spend time with you and buy you things.

Also has fun sitting around at home or the base, able to enjoy your hobbies together.

Has quite a bit of experience due to his age, but is aware of how romantic he is.

Accidentally spends a lot of money on you during the walk, as he won’t look at the prices. Isn’t worried though.

Will hold you while you both enjoy a drink, telling you stories about anything he can think of.

***

Dropping the bags onto the floor, letting some items fall onto the floor but neither of you minded. He stretched, hearing his back crack.

“You should’ve let me carry the bags.”

“Nonsense by dear,” He picked you up, letting you sit on his shoulder, “You need to relax!” Grabbing himself a beer and your favourite drink before sitting down, dropping you onto his lap.

“Now, did I ever tell you about the crusaders?”

ℝ𝕠𝕒𝕕𝕙𝕠𝕘:

He’ll take you for a motorbike ride around the outback, won’t go scavenging unless you really want to.

Most times you’d be staying at his and Junkrats makeshift base.

Has little experience, due to being isolated from others.

Due to being a junker he doesn’t have a lot of money, also meaning neither of you need any.

He’ll take you both back to base, wanting to spend time with each other.

***

The sun was beating down on the land, and on you if Mako wasn’t in the way. Instead you were covered in his shadow, slightly cooler and safer from the heat. With the goggles protecting your eyes from any stray sand or dirt.

While you were looking around this gave Mako the chance to look at you. Taking in all your features. The way the sun revealed everything, everything that he loved about you.

𝕊𝕚𝕘𝕞𝕒:

He’ll cook you both a nice dinner to enjoy away from the others.

He won’t be able to leave the Talon base so thanks to Sombra you’ll be away and inaccessible to others.

As much as he tries he’s always flustered, sometimes laughing in between words.

Due to being at the Talon base neither of you will need any money.

He just wants to hold you close, cuddling while reading some of his favourite books.

***

You felt a pair of arms wrap around your waist, pulling you off of your feet so you hung above the ground. Looking behind to see Sigma looking down at you, a hung smile on his face.

“There you are Starlight!” Moving you around so you lay in his arms, floating over to a chair. “How about I read us a story?”

Asking as he pulled a book from one of his many shelves.

ℤ𝕒𝕣𝕪𝕒:

Her first thought would be a gym date, but she knows not everyone would like it. So she goes for a nice and cozy lunch date instead.

She takes you to a small, less popular cafe that she goes to often. It's kinda small yet cozy place.

Unluckily she has no experience, being focused on other things. But she still tries, constantly looking to improve.

Normally won't spend a lot but for you she’ll go over her normal amount, you’ll be able to get most items you want.

Will pull you around to look around the town, stopping by the nearest ice cream of gelato place. Treating you to a flavour of your choice.

***

Before she even knocked at the door you knew she had arrived, her nervous pacing outside wasn’t the quietest. With fast paced and surprisingly light knocks. Stepping away when you opened the door.

There she stood, a button up shirt and simple black pants. A bouquet of your favourite flowers were held in her hand, reaching for you to take them.

“Dear, you look amazing!” While speaking her voice cracked lightly, face covered in blush. Hold out her arm for you to take. “Ready for today?”

[krypticcafe]

i wanna know how u think 141 + König & Alejandro would react/feel about reader doing this trend with them, ofc reader doesn't upload it or anything they just record it for fun :]

if the link doesn't work the trend is basically a person is putting on lipstick and they "mess up" and their s/o wipes it off for them and the camera pans to their s/o covered in kissmarks

this has been on my mind for a while i think its so sweet 🥲 i lovelovelove ur writing!! its so good lik oml <33

Lipstick trend w/COD:MWII men

rating: teen

character(s): Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, John Price, John "Soap" MacTavish, Simon "Ghost" Riley, Gary "Roach" Sanderson, Hound König, Alejandro Vargas / GN!Reader

warning(s): language, suggestiveness

wordcount: ~1.6k

summary: Silly little lipstick trend with your silly little military boyfriend.

a/n: the money I'd pay to kiss these men dizzy.

Gaz

Knew about the trend for a while, was wondering if you'd do it, so it's not much of a surprise when you come to him asking about it.

Honestly, he thinks it's a little cheesy, but he's not so insecure that he doesn't want to do it, he's happy to make you happy.

Literally won't stop teasing you like "You sure you're doing this just for the trend?" when you're smooching him all over his face.

When you're done, you can't but stare for a bit.

"What, too pretty for words, love?"

"Shut up, Garrick."

"Make me."

Now his lips are a bright red to match yours<3

The recording goes pretty smoothly, but by the end of it, Gaz can be seen bursting into giggles which in turn makes you giggle a little until the recording cuts off.

You guys don't post it publicly, but I like to think Gaz posted a screenshot of when the two of you are in frame, looking at each other with goofy smiles.

Price

The last person you'd expect to be up with any trends, but it's alright, you're here to help him!

He's hesitant, only because he's a bit bashful! When it comes to these silly little recordings and any of your playful schemes, he gets a little shy about it.

But if you really bat your eyes, pout a little, maybe even tug on his sleeve...

"Please? Just this once, sweetheart?"

He sucks in a deep breath. He's a captain for Christ's sake, he's resisted things worse than this, and no amount of hellish torture has ever made him crack in the slightes-

"Pretty please? For me, Johnny?"

What was he thinking about again?

He sits there while you practically bounce in your spot while you lather on thick layers of lipstick, wondering if this will haunt him.

But all his bashfulness goes out the window when you cup his face oh-so-gently, smother him with kisses, giggling about how ticklish his facial hair is, how it nearly messes you up, how you smile proudly at your work and at him.

You swear you won't post it because you know he can't risk his reputation as a captain... but you also know nothing is stopping you from bringing it up every now and then to him.

Pulling up the pictures and videos, smugly grinning and ogling them while he groans at how smug you are.

Real proud of that one, aren't you?

Soap

"So basically for the trend I just need to put on some lipstick, kiss yo-"

"Say less."

Literally he doesn't care what he has to do, this man wants his kisses.

He'll be all "You missed a spot" when you're applying the marks on his face.

Your guys' version of the trend is a little different.

Instead, the video starts with you putting on lipstick, Soap takes it, commenting how the shade would look good on him, applying it on his lips before smothering you with kisses in the video, leaving the two of you all covered in lipstick stains.

After you wiped your face off, you notice Soap hasn't.

He's just staring smugly at the mirror, rubbing his chin, talking about how "Y'know, I think this actually looks good on me" and "Think I'll keep it on for today, yeah?"

"Honey, you can't go out like that."

"An' why not? I'm jus' wearin' makeup."

"Don't be a smartass- hey! Get back here MacTavish!"

Every day that man tests your patience, but you wouldn't have it any other way.

Ghost

"You won't budge until I say yes?"

You're sitting on his lap on the bed, keeping him still, batting your eyes with faux innocence. He could lift you off if he wanted, but he doesn't, and that alone is enough of an answer for you.

"Nope."

He's trying to pretend so much that he doesn't care too much about it, that he's just letting you do whatever you want. Obviously, he's just playing along.

However, it isn't until you kiss that particular spot of his neck just right under his jaw where the stubble stops that it escalates.

"Oh? Is the lieutenant feeling ticklish?" You coo.

"'m not ticklish-" He's cut off by more kisses peppered around the area and a few extra on his face.

"Mhm, really, because," You're giggling in between your words, "When I kiss you here," He forces the fakest cough he's ever made when you kiss the same spot against, nipping it slightly. All he can do is lean back into the couch, leg bouncing impatiently, trying to bite back a chuckle or two until he finally cracks. The two of you are in a quiet fit of snickers and giggles until you finally let up.

After making the video, you silently gush over it, replaying it over and over. There's a hint of redness on his cheeks, and his eyes seem to flicker from you to the camera, it's the most flustered you've ever seen him be and you got it all on tape, lucky you.

Roach

"That's so dumb, of course I wanna do it."

Roach is all for goofy little couples trends, so it's nothing new if you ask him to do another.

"Babe, stay still would you?" You pout, "I'm gonna have to start over if you keep squirming!"

"Mmm, I think I'd like that."

"Of course you would." Rolling your eyes, you pinch his cheek and he yelps, apologizing and letting you continue. He really can't help it though, it's really ticklish for him.

It takes maybe three tries for you to get the video right, ending with one where Gary messed up your makeup for you by swooping in to give you a sloppy smooch and clumsily wiping it only to further smear it while in a fit of giggles. He claims you were taking too long so he put matters in his own hands.

"So when do I get to do you?"

"What are you talking about, that's all there is- Gary!"

"Nuh-uh, c'mere!"

Hound

He's confused as ever but agrees to it on a whim since he's often entertaining your needs and wants anyways.

As you settle on his lap, his hands rest on your sides and he looks up at you with affectionate eyes. He was looking at you like that when you were putting on your lipstick, too. You almost don't want to ruin his pretty little face, but at the same time, you think it'd look so much prettier with your kisses all over it<3

His eyes close and he stays still while you mark his face all over, even when your lips tickle sensitive spots like his scars. Patient as ever.

When you pull away, he looks like such a doll for you. Your hands cup his face and his lashes flutter open, showing those big brown eyes still giving you the same adoring look, and your chest is basically hammering. He can probably hear it, too. He reaches up to hold your hands and presses his lips against the knuckles. You swear your heart just stopped.

"Everything alright, sugar?"

Oh fuck, what were you supposed to be doing?

"Mhm." You nod frantically, face burning while his thumb brushes over a knuckle, "Y-You know, maybe we can just... tonight... haha... holdmeplease?"

Yeah... you never did quite get your video.

König

"What, with me?" He asks, bewildered.

"Of course?? Who else am I going to do it with? Oh sure, let me call up Horangi, I bet he'll be happy to-"

"Nonono! I want to do it!"

Moments later, he's sitting on the edge of your bed, hood off, fidgeting awkwardly, and watching you quietly. Now you know what he meant when they told him he couldn't stay still for the life of him.

"König, honey, you act like I'm going to hurt you or something." You chuckle, popping your lips as you apply your lipstick in the mirror. He wasn't even this skittish in bed so what had him all jittery?

Setting your hands on his shoulders, you reassure him with a kiss first on the forehead. "Relax, I just want to take a video, that's all."

"Sorry schatz, I'll behave." He hums, easing up at your touch and you smile, planting kisses all over. It seems he just didn't know what exactly he was in for.

You show him how he looks on your phone, "Thoughts?"

"Not bad..." He attempts to wipe off the marks, but you swat his hand away from him.

"You think we're done, mister?"

"Huh?" Practically pouncing on him, you cut him off with a hungry kiss, hovering your body over his. What, he didn't seriously think all you wanted was a video, did he?

Alejandro

He snickers, "If you just wanted my attention, you could've asked."

"I'm serious, Alejandro, it's a thing!" You beam, pointing to the videos on your phone.

He jokingly dismisses your claim and settles onto his office chair, looking at you expectantly. You're confused for a moment, what was he staring at you for?

"Are we going to do this or not? Don't tell me it was actually an excuse now, mi vida."

"No!" You blurt, though now you're debating if you should do this or just leave him waiting with how much he wants to tease you. Then again, you can't pass up this opportunity.

While applying your makeup, you can spot him quietly admiring you in the corner of his eye, and it nearly throws you off your game.

As you kiss him, he keeps his eyes on you, a grin on his lips. Not for a single moment does he tear his attention away from you, instead pointing at a few spots for you to mark.

"I got it, I got it," You huff, mumbling to yourself, "You're certainly enjoying this, colonel..."

Post-production, when you get up to wipe off your lips, he looks at you with offense, "What, that's it?"

"Yes..?"

"Nonono, I think we need to do it again, my way, this time." He snickers, pulling you in by the waist.

"Your way? Alejandro!" You whine without fighting back as he pulls you in for a longer kiss, all your protests forgotten.

a/n: homies i kinda regret writing this so close to valentine's day haha...

[jessejaredstories]

Walk on the Wild Side

Sergio was a walking gay man’s fantasy. He was tall and muscular as fuck. Beefy could barely even begin to describe him as everything from his biceps, chest, thighs, back, and even ass were massive! He made his living off of flexing his hot body as well as fucking other beefy dudes on camera. Sergio was truly living the life many could only dream of having.

But although Sergio was living the good life, he couldn't deny that something was missing. More specifically, something about his sex life. Sergio loved his very active sex life and was more often than not satisfied after every hookup he had. Yet at the same time, Sergio found himself wanting more. He wanted something new, and he knew exactly who to contact. Kris the Kink Witch.

Sergio reached out to Kris through Twitter DMs. Kris, like Sergio, also made his living off of recording and selling the videos of his gay escapades. He was known to be one incredibly kinky motherfucker online, and he took great pride in it too- as evidenced by his self proclaimed title the Kink Witch. But unlike Sergio, Kris took a much more professional approach to his line of work. For Kris, it wasn't about pleasure, it was about money. He meant business, and he never shied away from demonstrating that fact.

Fortunately, Sergio was also pretty well-known in the online gay community. Kris recognized Sergio and responded back to him within a couple of minutes. Their conversation went as follows...

S: Hey, you're the Kink Witch right? I've got a request in mind.

K: Yo. Yeah that's me. You want to film a collab together?

S: Not at all. I was actually thinking you and I can link up and have some fun. No cameras. 

K: Sorry, I don't do charity work. 

S: Trust me, I don't either. I just need to have some real fun and I know someone like you can help me out with that goal. I'll pay you a good amount too if you're interested.

K: Go on, I'm listening...

Sergio and Kris went on to negotiate the deal. In exchange for a kinky night of fun, Sergio would pay Kris $2500 in cold, hard cash. However, in order to earn that money, Kris needed to get Sergio to cum and to feel real pleasure while doing it too. But before they could seal the deal, Sergio gave Kris a heads-up by saying that he had already done almost everything anyone can think of. If it wasn't something new and exciting like he wanted, then Sergio had no problem calling the deal off. Yet despite his stark warning, Kris accepted the deal without any hesitation. It slightly unnerved Sergio how confident Kris was. He was pretty sure they both had more or less the same amount of experience when it came to sex. Could Kris really know something Sergio didn't?

Regardless of the initial unease Sergio felt, it was too late to back down now. Kris was already on his way to his apartment. Sergio passed the time by doing the usual prep work of cleaning himself out, just as Kris told him to. Yet despite his best efforts to distract himself, Sergio couldn't help but wonder what Kris had in store for him.

Does this twink really think he's gonna satisfy me just by fucking me? Ha! I've already taken on plenty of men, there's nothing new he can do there! 

Sergio chuckled at his own thoughts. His curiosity was making his mind run wild. Luckily it didn't take much longer for Kris to arrive. He showed up at the entrance of the building and Sergio buzzed him in. Sergio then welcomed the young man into his home, and although he was excited to hook up, he couldn't help but wonder if he was in over his head by hiring some 20 something year old dude with messy hair and a dirty hoodie. 

"Alright, you ready?" Kris said as he began to strip down to nothing but his underwear. 

"Yeah, do you wanna go-" 

"Wrong answer," Kris interrupted Sergio. "I'll excuse the first mistake but you'll only address me as Sir, Daddy, or Papi from here on out. Got it?" 

Sergio was thrown off by how to-the-point Kris was but decided to just ignore it. 

"Yes, Sir." 

"Good boy, now whip out your cock. Get hard too,"

Sergio did as he was told. Kris did the same. Sergio was impressed with Kris' member. It was long and hairy with some decent girth too. Although his was definitely longer, Sergio's cock was the thicker one. They were both hung, Sergio like a bull and Kris like a horse. Once they were both erect, Kris reached down to his pants. He pulled out two rings out of the back pocket, one gold and one silver. He put the gold ring on, then handed the silver cock ring to Sergio.

"Put this on, then on the count of 3, twist it to the right."

Sergio held the cock ring in his hand. The silver hue of the ring almost seemed to glimmer under the light. He hesitated putting it on. It definitely wasn't the first time he wore a cock ring, but Sergio got an inexplicable feeling telling him that he shouldn't put it on. Kris noticed his hesitation right away.

"C'mon, don't be shy, put it on!" Kris said firmly. Sergio looked up and met his gaze but didn't say anything. A moment of silence passed, then Kris sighed.

"Look man, you paid me to do a job and I plan to deliver. You trust me, right?" 

Kris seemed slightly more empathetic now. It was just enough to make Sergio trust him. Sergio nodded, then proceeded to put on the ring. He placed it on the tip of his dick and slid it down to the base of his rock hard member. 

"Alright, ready? 1... 2... 3!!!"

Sergio and Kris then twisted their cock rings to the right at the same time. The moment they did, a wave of orgasmic sensations hit their bodies, causing them to throw their heads back with pleasure. 

"UURRGGGHHHHH!!!" They both moaned obscenely loudly. 

Sergio's vision blurred as he felt the wave of pleasure overtake him. His body trembled as the ring grew tighter around his cock, making it engorged. Then suddenly, Sergio became extremely lightheaded. He could feel his very soul leaving his body. As his soul stepped out of its vessel, Sergio lost all physical feeling as he became nothing but a mass of light. He looked ahead and saw the same had happened to Kris. Both of their souls had just stepped out of their bodies!

Sergio was mind blown by what he was seeing. But before he could even react, his soul began moving on its own. His soul was floating towards Kris' body. At the same time, Kris was floating towards his body. During the brief moment they passed each other, Sergio could've sworn he saw Kris smirking. His soul continued its march towards Kris' body, and as soon as it made contact, it began sinking into the soulless body. Sergio's soul aligned with its new vessel within seconds. Every single cell of Kris' was invaded by Sergio's soul, and he could feel ecstasy wash over him as his soon-to-be new body surrended itself to his control. Once it was done, Sergio immediately felt the difference as he longer possessed his jacked, beefy body but instead a hairy twink like Kris. 

"Arghh fuckk.. what the fuck..." Sergio said with his new voice. All of the extraordinary sensations he just experienced made him fall to the ground. While he was busy trying to recover, he could see his body moving out of the corner of his eyes. 

"Bro look at these fucking pecs! These are some massive slabs of meat on your chest!!" 

Sergio watched as Kris bounced and groped his pecs with shameless joy. Slowly but surely, while Kris was enjoying himself, Sergio came back to his senses. He sat up, then kneeled down onto his knees. Well, Sergio was mostly back to his senses anyway. The sight of seeing a burly man play his own chest was filling him with lust. The only thing on Sergio's mind was how to best worship and please his master. 

Kris noticed Sergio was basically drooling and smirked.

"What's the matter, you want something?" Kris stripped down naked, then bounced his pecs again. Sergio nodded his head vigorously. "Then ask for it, tell Daddy what you want."

"I want milk Daddy..." Sergio said with bated breath and dilated pupils. "Please, Sir, let me worship your beautiful pecs!" 

"Good boy," Kris put his thumb on Sergio's chin and flicked it down, leaving his mouth hanging open with his tongue out. "Now show your Daddy what you can do with that mouth."

As soon as he heard he got permission, Sergio couldn't contain himself anymore and pounced onto Kris. He immediately planted his mouth on one of Kris' nipples and began suckling away while Kris enjoyed getting serviced. He was smirking all the while. His plan had gone off perfectly; the cock rings switched their bodies! That was the kink Kris had planned for Sergio, and he knew it would be the fun night he could've never predicted. After all, nobody knew how literal his title of Kink Witch was. But while Sergio was aware that they switched bodies, there was one little detail Kris kept to himself. Both rings would allow a body swap, but only the gold one would let the user retain their original personality. Because Sergio used the silver cock ring, his soul was forced to absorb Kris' hidden total sub personality when it took over his body. It might still be Sergio in mind and spirit, but it was now Kris in personality. With Kris possessing Sergio's muscular body with his mind still intact, the conditions were now set for him to complete the request Sergio made. 

"FUCK yeah, just like that!" Kris moaned. He could feel as Sergio alternated between licking, sucking, and flicking his nipple with his tongue. His warm mouth felt amazing against his sensitive nipples. Kris pressed Sergio's face down into his chest. Sergio let out a muffled groan of pleasure as he motorboated Kris. They were both having the time of their lives, filling the room with their sensual moans. 

Kris let Sergio worship his chest for a while longer before moving onto the next phases. Within the span of the next half hour, they made out passionately and intensely. Kris stuck his tongue inside Sergio's mouth as they grinded their bodies together, sharing their body heat together. Kris then began moving his mouth down Sergio's body, covering his neck and torso with hickies as he bit and sucked on his body. All while Kris had his middle finger firmly set inside Sergio's ass, massaging his hole and making him squirm while he claimed him as his sub. 

Then, before the final act, Kris tore Sergio off his body. He had a hand wrapped around his throat, lightly choking the panting young man. Sergio's eyes were lit with an intense lust, begging and desperate for more. Kris smiled internally. He had him right where he wanted him.

"Fuck, Boy!! You really know how to please your Master, I wanna give you a reward... Are you ready? Are you ready for Daddy's present for his favorite sub?" 

Sergio whispered "yes Sir, please Sir." Kris then pulled out a couple more things he brought and gave them to Sergio, who put them on enthusiastically. 

Sergio laid there with his ass perked up. Kris came up from behind and laid his big, strong hands on Sergio's perky cheeks. He massaged him first, letting Sergio's bubble butt jiggle in his hands for a bit. He then spread his cheeks apart and leaned down to stick his tongue deep inside his ass.

"Nghh..." Sergio groaned. He could feel Kris' tongue swirl and flick around inside of him and it. Felt. AMAZING. 

Kris ate Sergio out for a while, making sure his ass was nice, wet, and ready for his girthy cock. Once he had enough of using his tongue, Kris got back up and positioned himself just above Sergio. He let his dick rest in between his cheeks and moved it up and down, making Sergio squirm in anticipation. Then, with a wide grin on his face, Kris stuck his dick inside of Sergio. He let out a silent "fuck..." as he watched his cock head penetrate his bound up sub. He thrusted slowly, letting inch by inch of his fat member disappear into Sergio's hole. Kris was proud of his tight and warm hole, and now he finally got a chance to fuck himself in a very literal way. He waited a bit to let Sergio's wall expand to accommodate his dick, then began pounding away at him. 

Loud obscene moans, guttural groans, and boorish grunts filled the room as the two men fucked. Kris found the perfect rhythm to move his hips, fucking Sergio like he was a jackhammer. Sergio closed his eyes as he took the dicking down like a champ. Somewhere in the back of his head was the vague memory that he and Kris had switched bodies. The thought of getting fucked by his own body made his pleasure increase tenfold. It was his own cock stretching out his hole and rearranging his insides. It was a strange thought, but Sergio didn't care. All he could think about was how he was Daddy's personal fleshlight and how much he was loving servicing a big, strong man like Daddy. 

They fucked for a while longer until Kris couldn't hold his load in any longer. He pulled out, flipped Sergio over, tore off the jockstrap, then stuck his cock back on.

"C'MON! CUM FOR ME! COVER ME WITH YOUR- FUCKKKKK!!!!"

Kris finished mid sentence. He rammed his throbbing dick deep inside Sergio and let out all of his loads inside of him. Hearing Kris' satisfied groaning as he cummed along with the sensation of getting filled with his seed made Sergio shootout ropes of warm jizz all over. Within seconds, they had both become incredibly sweaty, potently musky, and drenched in Sergio's spunk. Sergio got his walk on the wild side and Kris completed his job.

Once they cooled down and cleaned up, Sergio collapsed onto his bed. Aside from the mind blowing sex, he was also exhausted by swapping bodies. He was a first time swapper after all, it was only natural. 

But just before he could drift away into a deep sleep, he noticed Kris was still moving around with his body.

"Hey... what are you doing?"

"Daddy's gonna go have a night out with his bros. Don't worry about it, just go to sleep."

Kris hopped into bed with Sergio. He kissed him on the forehead, snuggled with him, and watched as he fell asleep in his embrace. Sergio was way too tired to question it, and Kris was glad. Kris then hopped out of bed and let Sergio rest inside his body while he went out to complete his next assignment: find a hairy, muscle bear with a big ass. Now it was his turn to bottom, and although Sergio woke up the next morning not knowing where Master was with his body, he had no problem patiently and eagerly waiting until Daddy returned home.

[blackpilljesus]

The rise in popularity of single childfree women should signal that we need to start preparing. I've spoken about this before but want to address a common concern of safety regarding maIe retaliation. At this point some women may think they'll be safer trying to get a maIe but the statistics show otherwise. There's a reason women fought for rights in the first place, we all know that maIes as a collective are horrible beings. If maIes were pleasant to be around & reproduce with, they wouldn't need to force women into it.

Now I dont have all the answers in terms of what to do in the face of maIe retaliation but where to start:

1 - Move in silence. MaIes dont need to know our every move. MaIes have enough power as is, them knowing our strategy on top of that wont help. Hell, play dumb sometimes. This also applies to other women, if they push marriage & kids bs be measured in your response, in the end you know your truth. At the end of the day most of these women are also aware of the danger maIes pose.

2 - Organise. This is tough, extremely tough i can't lie. For one we're scattered all over the world & people in our real lives wouldn't have the committment to this nor believe in deviating from the nuclear structure but it is something needed. Even if it's just online, find or build networks with likeminded women. I say this as a lone wolf but infrastructure & network is needed because the government will make it harder to survive alone so some would need to be able to lean on each other for support even if it's just verbal. Disassociate from maIes as far as you can. Take up learning how to defend yourself. If you're serious about this; be prepared to break the rules at some point because playing nice & by the law wont work. These things are set up by men for men and it wont help us. I'm not saying go out there & purposefuly break the law or put yourself in harms way, just saying prepare. It sounds far out now but the current system cant be counted on, blind eyes are turned when maIes abuse women, women are punished for defending themselves under the system. Even if you dont want to go down the route of community, learn to take care of yourself & hold your own down.

3 - Stop arguing with maIes. This doesnt mean that xys are right, I say this a lot but maIes are fully aware of everything. Arguing with maIes online is a waste of time, time that can go to building for yourself or likeminded women. MaIes denying female oppression is part of the game to keep you wasting your energy on them as opposed to working on yourself. It's to keep you in their hands; doesn't matter whether you're right or not, how many statistics you throw at them, you're still biting their bait.

4 - Stack up on resources & money. If you have resources & money and the priviledge to save then start now. If/when things go downhill it wont be a snap thing but a transition so this window needs to be used to the best of our advantage. Take advantage of the privileges you have now to set yourself for the future because that could very well be gone.

I doubt we'd win tbh but I'd rather die trying than live submitting. I will mention that I know it's scary but we have to think forward. Bear in mind the system has never worked for women, some will say things like "but when women leave maIes get more violent" but there is no safety in the first place. Women are sexually harrassed & assaulted any where at any time with no protection already. Women are constantly told of all the things they should or shouldn't do to avoid maIe violence and it doesnt work anyways, maIes will continue to abuse women & girls. No amount of listening & obeying has helped women because it doesn't matter what the reason for maIe violence is, if they cant find a reason they'll create a reason because their motive is to make women suffer in addition to reproduction & having labour.

Now I know many will speak about the violence of maIe retaliation which I'll address in part 3. This is part 2 of 'the rise in single childfree women' group of posts.

Part 1

[navybrat817]

Sign the Dotted Line

Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Andy Barber x Female Reader Summary: You discuss the terms with Estelle and wait the week before seeing Andy again. Word Count: Over 3.5k Warnings: Slow burn, reader is broke (is that a warning?), sugar daddy offer, tension, slight insecurities, inner monologue, Andy Barber (he's a warning, okay?) Graphic talent and thanks: Banner - @sgt-seabass, Divider - @firefly-graphics , Header - yours truly A/N: Welcome back to my Terms and Conditions AU! Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby (thanks!), but any and all mistakes are my own. ❤️ Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You had a hard time relaxing after your meeting with Andy. You couldn’t put your finger on why you were wound up. The discussion went well, even better than you expected. Andy wasn’t pushy considering the power he wielded, but also wasn’t a pushover when you questioned him or offered alternatives. He conducted himself the way you needed him to, both professionally and personally. If he hadn’t, you’d have a much harder time going along with his contact.

So why am I so restless?

Estelle, once again reminding you why she was one of the best friends a girl could have, stopped by your place with wine and pizza. “You were not about to tell me over the phone what happened. Once I get this passed out, dish.”

Your friend was unusually quiet as you gave her the rundown of the meeting and terms you agreed to. It meant a lot that she listened, but you expected her to chime in once or twice with her opinion as she refilled your glasses of wine. Was she thinking carefully about what to say or did she not have anything to add?

“I have three questions for you,” she said, drumming her manicured nails along her glass. “First, why didn’t you accept his higher offer for more money each month?”

There it is.

“Because it was an excessive amount of money considering he’s going to pay my bills and rent, along with getting me a new wardrobe AND a personal driver. Unless I’m going out with you or our friends, it doesn’t sound like I’m going to pay for anything.”

Saying it out loud made you shift uncomfortably in your chair. Everything you had was because you worked for it. Soon, you wouldn't even work at the diner. To think the next nine months you wouldn’t work? It didn't sound real.

It didn't sound like you.

“All I'm saying is you could’ve used that extra money for savings,” she pointed out with a raise of her glass. “Or to stock up on wine.”

You snorted a bit, taking a sip of your drink. “I’m still going to put money aside for savings, but the amount he’s going to spend taking care of me? It’s a lot.”

“Doesn’t sound like it’s much to him if he agreed so easily.”

“It’s a lot to me,” you said under your breath.

And I’m not about to take advantage of him.

Andy was going to take care of you like he promised. You had no doubt about that. The world he lived in, maybe it wouldn’t make much of a difference in his bank account to take on your debt for the next nine months. You weren’t going to push for more money when he was giving you the world and then some.

Estelle smiled into her glass. “I haven’t met the guy yet, but I think he likes you because you’re a good person. I mean, he wants you to have dinners with him so he can talk to you and to get to know you even more,” she said, leaning forward when you tried to look away. “Which brings me to my second question. How do you feel about the ‘no sex’ in the contract?”

Your stomach sank a bit, making you wonder if that was why you felt restless when you should’ve been happy. “Is it bad if I say it hurts my ego a little?”

It was irrational to have a bit of a bruised ego. Andy gave you an explanation as to why he didn’t add that clause and it made perfect sense. The fantasy that he wanted you still played out in your mind though. But what would wanting him lead you to? What did you have to offer him besides companionship?

“A little? Mine would’ve hurt a lot,” she joked, causing your face to fall more as your thoughts crushed you. “Sorry. I didn’t mean anything by that. Just because he doesn't have it in the contract doesn't mean he isn't attracted to you. Didn’t you say he complimented the dress, which we knew you looked hot in? And your smile?”

"He did,” you answered, heat creeping up your neck that had nothing to do with the wine. “But Andy is like a full course meal. What the hell am I?"

Estelle wadded up her napkin and threw it at your head, which you dodged. "So are you. If you don't believe me, at least consider yourself to be dessert or a fine wine," she said. You wouldn’t, but you weren’t about to tell her that. "And you know what? I respect the man a hell of a lot more for not adding anything sexual to the contract.”

“You do?”

“Yeah. You said if something happened, he wanted it to be natural or organic. He doesn’t want to take advantage of you. He wants to seduce you the old fashioned way. And I say let him. You can start by taking some of that money he gave you and buy some fancy lingerie.”

You finished your glasses, wondering what Andy liked. Did he like something simple and classic? What colors would get his attention? "I was going to pay you back for the dress and the shoes," you told her.

With a wrinkle of her nose, she snatched the bottle from the table "Those were a gift and I won't accept any money back," she said, pouring the rest of the wine into her glass. You figured that was what she'd say. "And because you offended me, no more wine for you."

"You’re the one who brought that bottle, so your rules," you reminded her as she shot you a look. "Okay, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have offered to pay you back for my present."

Estelle nodded after a moment. "Good. That's good practice for when Andy buys you something just because and you try to pay him back."

You refrained from rolling your eyes, but she had a point. You would probably try to pack him back whether he wanted it or not. "Is it really paying him back if it's with his own money?"

She pretended to think it over before laughing. "Probably not," she said as you stood up to take your glass to the sink. "Hey, I didn't ask my third question."

"Fire when ready."

"Do you really want to give it a week when you have your mind made up?"

Estelle knew you all too well. Even if you hadn't told her from the start that you planned to sign the contract, she would've figured it out. "The time frame was his call."

While it did give you time to think it through, surely he had to get things in order, too. Like your new place. God, you couldn't believe you were going to move into his building.

"You could ask him to move up the date? Worst thing he could say is 'no'."

Maybe.

"Yeah," you said, going to sit back down with a huff. "Are you sure you don't mind being in the know of this? And having to keep it under wraps?"

"Are you kidding? It's an honor you asked me," she said, holding her head high with such confidence you had to smile. "I got your back."

"Thanks, Estelle," you said.

She waved her hand dismissively, but had a smile on her face. "Don't mention it."

"Okay. Now enough about me," you smiled. "Tell me about your day."

"Well," she smirked, tilting her head as she paused dramatically. "I may have found a guy for Wendy."

Your eyes lit up, happy you asked. Wendy was another friend of yours who hadn’t dated in awhile. "Tell me everything."

You managed to keep your focus on Estelle as she told you about the gorgeous guy she met in a coffee shop who was just Wendy’s type. You wondered how different things would've been had you and Andy met that way. Would it change your story? Would you be where you were now?

Staring at your phone when Estelle went to use the bathroom, you debated whether or not to text Andy. You just saw him earlier today and he had a business dinner. How desperate would you look asking him to move the contract date up?

"Fuck it," you muttered, snatching the device and quickly typing out a message. Communication was key. Like honesty.

"I don't want to wait a week, but I understand if we have to. I hope your dinner went well."

“BOO!” You nearly dropped your phone when Estelle smacked the couch behind you. "You messaged him, didn't you?"

"Yeah," you giggled, holding your chest to calm your pounding heart. "Told him I didn't want to wait a week, but understood if we had to."

"Hopefully he listens. Well, he will if he wants to get in your pants."

"Stop," you giggled as your phone went off, holding your breath as you read the message.

"I'd rather have dinner with you. And I understand you don’t want to wait, but what was it you said about anticipation?"

Using anticipation against me.

"Fine, Daddy."

The three dots popped up immediately as he typed. "You're teasing me, honey."

"Maybe. I'll see you in a week."

“Looking forward to it, but one more thing I forgot to mention. I’d like a witness for the contract signing.”

"Are you two sexting?" Estelle asked, wiggling her eyebrows.

"No," you smiled.

Just called him 'Daddy'.

"But he's sticking it out for the week," you said, only a little disappointed. He did have to draw up a contract. “And we need a witness for the signing. I’d like it to be you.”

"Ooh. He's making you wait for it," she said, giving you a small smile. "Give me the time and date and I’ll be there."

“Thanks,” you smiled, sending Andy back a message. “Estelle volunteered.”

“Perfect.”

“One more week and he’s yours,” Estelle smiled.

"One more week."

It really was the longest week of your life to wait to see Andy again, but today was the day.

Your heart beat fast as you and Estelle went into the building and went through the motions with the security guard. You half expected Irene to tell you Andy didn’t have an appointment with you as you made your way to the office. It was silly to think he’d back out, but your nerves were getting the better of you. And why?

Because you hadn’t heard from Andy. Not once. You kept looking at the door expectantly during your shifts at the diner, only to be met with disappointment when he didn’t show. You also didn’t want to admit how many times you checked your phone to see if he reached out. The man had more important things to do than visit or text you.

“Cheer up,” Estelle told you in the elevator. You felt bad. You were sulking and you didn’t try to hide it. Part of that scared you because why did it matter that he had gone radio silent?

“You don’t think he changed his mind, do you?”

“No. He’s just a busy man. Get out of your head.”

“I’m trying,” you sighed.

You led Estelle to the office, expecting to see Irene. All you saw was an empty desk. The light above her chair was off, too. The double doors were shut. Maybe it was a sign. This was too good to be true.

Andy was too good to be true.

“There you are,” you heard as the double doors opened.

“Holy shit,” Estelle breathed, almost making you elbow her.

“Andy,” you said, not quite smiling when you caught sight of him. He didn’t have a blazer on and the sleeves of his shirt were rolled up. “I was just-”

“Irene wasn’t feeling well, so I sent her home for the day. Come on in.”

“Can you give us a minute?” You asked your friend, who raised an eyebrow in response.

“Yeah. I’ll be here,” she said, taking a seat. Once Andy's back was turned, she mouthed, "Hot!"

Yeah, he is.

You clutched your bag a little tighter as you walked in, reminding yourself to breathe as Andy shut the door. “We’re still doing this?” You asked, your voice shaky.

“Of course, we are,” he said, pulling out the chair that you sat in a week before. “Why? Are you having second thoughts?”

“No. Truthfully, I thought you changed your mind.”

Andy paused before he took his seat. “I have no reason to back out. I offered and want this. I said I’d take care of you and I’m a man of my word. I’m happy to prove that to you if you don’t believe me,” he said, carefully looking you over as blood rushed to your cheeks. “What made you think I’d change my mind?”

You shook your head. “It’s silly.”

“It isn’t silly to me,” he said, sweeping his gaze over you once again. “You’re stiff, honey, and you’re barely looking me in the eye. What’s going on? What do I need to do to put you at ease?”

You swallowed a little. “It was a long week to think it over and I hadn’t heard from you. Because of that, I wasn’t sure if you maybe decided to change your mind,” you explained, lifting your eyes to meet his. You were met with concern and care. “Silly, right?”

“No, it isn’t,” he assured you, sliding a small packet across the table to give you a chance to look at the top page. It was the contact. He really put it together. “May I explain?”

“Of course,” you whispered.

He surprised you by moving his chair around the table so he was beside you instead of across from you. “First, I’m sorry my silence caused any doubt. That wasn’t my intention. I only wanted to give you time to think things through,” he said, his tone gentle as he tapped the contract with his finger. “Would I have this here if I wanted to change my mind?”

“No, I don’t think,” you said, feeling a bit small.

“Second,” he said, a small smile on his face as he took out his phone. “I was the last one to message you. Maybe I didn’t want to bombard you between work.”

You stared at his phone and realized he was right. The last thing he sent was “Perfect.” regarding Estelle was your witness. You never said anything else. God, you were an idiot.

“So you were waiting to hear back from me?” You tried to tease as his smile widened. It was a handsome look. “Okay. So. I may have let my nerves get the better of me. I’m sorry. I just really want this to work.”

It took a lot for you to say that, but there was no judgment from him as he placed his hand over yours.

“So do I, honey,” he said in a low voice. “For the record, you can message me whenever you want. It won’t bother me.”

“Ditto,” you said before you cringed.

Ditto? Really? So eloquent.

He chuckled as he handed you a pen, leaning in a bit closer and giving you a chance to catch that cologne of his you loved. You’d never be able to smell it again without thinking of him. “As long as you’re okay and ready, would you like to start?”

“Yes, I would,” you smiled, sparing him another glance. “Thank you, Andy.”

He didn’t have to put you at ease. He could’ve easily laughed you off as sounding clingy or desperate, but he soothed your nerves. You shouldn’t have expected anything less from an ex-lawyer and, what you believed to be, a good man.

“Of course,” he said, going to the door to get Estelle. “Come in. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, too,” she said, smiling as she shook Andy’s hand. “Heard a lot about you.”

A pange of jealousy settled in your chest when Andy chuckled, making you look away. Estelle was the kind of woman Andy should be with. She belonged in his world. But she wouldn’t do anything. She was a good friend and knew you were at the very least attached to Andy.

I need to get a grip.

You had no idea why the voice in your head was being so cruel to you. First the assumption about Andy backing out and now this. It needed to stop.

“I appreciate you taking the time out of your schedule to be here. I realize there are some stigmas when it comes to contracts, so I want you to know I have her best interest at heart.”

“We’ll see about that, won’t we?” Estelle asked, winking at you as she sat down and squashing those nerves once more.

“I also have an NDA for you to sign,” Andy added as he took a seat again beside you and leveled your friend with a look. “I don’t really care what people say about me if word gets out. It won't make a difference. I won’t, however, have them slander her. So I’m trusting you to protect her.”

Estelle’s eyebrows shot up as did yours. Andy’s reputation meant a lot more than yours, yet it was you he was worried about. “You are so authoritative and bossy. No wonder you're in charge,” she said, grabbing a pen for herself. "I'll sign whatever you put in front of me."

“Okay then,” Andy smiled, tilting the paper so both of you could look together. “Let’s get started.”

Andy carefully read over each section, giving both you and Estelle a chance to object or stop him. Everything discussed was accounted for. The length of the contract, job, living arrangements, expenses, travel, he had it all. No red flags jumped out. Nothing of concern. You saw no reason to object when he stated everything as agreed.

“Any questions?” He asked, like he had after every portion.

“Back to the living arrangements,” Estelle said, pointing her pen at him. “I want to be there when she moves in.”

“You do?” You questioned with a look. “You hate moving.”

“Oh, I don’t plan on doing any of the heavy lifting,” she teased. She usually paid people for that. “But I insist on seeing your building and where she’s going to live. I may ask to see your place, too.”

His place? Why?

Andy appeared surprised by the request as well. “My place? Is that necessary?”

“If you plan on having her there, yes. I want to make sure it’s safe. I get that she’s your sugar baby once she signs the dotted line, but she’s my best friend. She was before she met you and she will be once this contract ends. You want to protect her? So do I.”

Andy hummed thoughtfully. “What do you think?” he asked you.

You would feel more comfortable with someone you trusted there. Not that you didn't trust Andy, but the situation wasn't normal and you understood Estelle’s insistence. Still, seeing his place? Was she being a bit nosy? Was she curious about the man?

She's looking out for me.

“I think that’s fine, all things considered,” you replied.

“Okay. You’ll be there when she moves in and you’re welcome to see my place,” Andy agreed.

“With me there,” you added. She had no reason to see Andy’s place all by herself.

“Duh,” Estelle smiled with a wave of her hand. “Proceed.”

Minutes later, Andy finished and signed the document when you didn't raise any concerns. He slid the last page in your direction and your hand trembled a bit as you went to sign. You caught a look of worry on Estelle’s face when you hesitated. You were so close.

“Honey?” Andy asked so softly you almost missed it.

“I said I’d take care of you and I’m a man of my word.”

With an exhale, you signed your name. This was it. For the next nine months, you’d belong to Andy. Well, in some ways.

Andy’s smile warmed your heart as he passed the sheet to Estelle. Her smile was bright enough to light up the room as she signed. She was thrilled for you.

And you allowed yourself to feel happy, too.

“You’re officially a sugar baby!” Estelle said, quickly signing the NDA as you and Andy exchanged a look. You wished you knew what he was thinking. “We need to celebrate.”

Andy cleared his throat. “Actually, I was kind of hoping I could steal her away for a bit after I make her a copy of this.”

“You were?” You and Estelle asked in unison.

“Yeah,” he smiled as he got to his feet. He practically towered over you where you sat. “I want to take you to the diner myself so you can turn in your notice. What do you say?”

You smiled as Estelle clapped her hands together. “Let’s go.”

After that, you could celebrate the next chapter in your life.

It's official! Here we go! Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Andy Barber Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[allthelovenina]

Nothing lasts forever

NSFW warning, MDNI.

Pair: levi ackerman x reader

Shout out to @leviismybby for giving me the idea.

English is not my first language so I apologize in advance for writing errors and mistakes.

Also, it's my first time writing smut. Please be nice T-T

It's been a long week. Training, paperwork, and negotiations for the upcoming mission funding.

So, there you were attending another ball alongside other scout higherups, Hange, Erwin and Levi. The ball was thrown by a "rich brat" as Levi calls him, who was enthusiastic about spending his money in places no one else would. In truth, Erwin saw this as an opportunity to convince him that the Scouts could take back Wall Maria with the assistance of Eren Jeager, the titan kid. In that case, he was able to expand his construction business further and gain a huge profit, considering the amount of destruction the buildings had gone through.

The "rich brat" who was only the same as yours, named "Benjamin Scott". A handsome and smart man who threw this party and invited everyone involved in the three regiments to find more connection and link with people who would one day be useful to him.

Anyways, there you were. Makeup on your face like a piece of art, hair done, in your heels, turning heads to yourself. No one could not notice you. Which of course, was a pain in Levi's butt, except that he didn't know why. He had no idea why was he so pissed off the moment he stepped into this stupid party, surrounded by idiots. Of course, he didn't acknowledge the fact that he was jealous, even to himself.

Whatever was going on between you and Levi was...complicated. you weren't in a relationship but you were definitely something more than "friends" or "colleagues" which was just a headache to you. You were sick of this situation, you were in no place to roll your eyes at the new recruits who constantly tried to hit on him, or to get close enough to him to bring him out of his agony and you were certainly in no position to touch him, kiss him or give him a pat on his head when he is tired and overworked. You were really done with him not acknowledging you nor your feelings, when you finally realized he wasn't going to ever be anything more to you, you gave up. This party had the perfect timing because now you had an excuse to be drunk without anyone suspecting you that you're drinking because of Levi.

Afterall, being flirty with those rich bastards has always been your job to secure the funding for missions, handed to you by Erwin. Add some alcohol to that equation, and there you are. Flirting shamelessly with the one and only Benjamin Scott. To be honest, you took his attention the moment you stepped into the hall, he could always appreciate a beautiful woman with the right amount of strength.

On the other side of the hall, there stood Levi, no real expression on his face but his eyes said something else. He was staring at you and Benjamin from afar and as unusual as it was for him, he was drinking. He wasn't listening nor was he paying any attention to anything and anyone but you and the man you seemed so fond of while chatting. He sighed with anger once he saw the blush on Benjamin's face.

No one really noticed Levi's anger, he had always been grumpy anyway so it didn't seem anything unordinary. Except for Hange of course. They could easily read his mind and expression, with a tease in their voice, they said "Seems like y/n is having fun. I guess the guy will fully cover our financial matters."

Levi remained silent and he took another shut. "Someone's having it tough, huh?"

"Shut up four eyes."

"Jeez it's not my fault she chose him over you!"

"I said shut up! I don't care."

"You know Levi, if it's messing your head to this extent I think you actually do. You're not being honest with yourself."

"It's not that I like her like that it's just that Erwin shouldn't take advantages of her like that! Sending her to flirt with these bastards so they would give us the fundings we need. That's all!"

"Oh yeah? Well it's not the first time he asked her to do so and you never seemed this worked up. Could it be that not only she seems to be having a good time with him, she's been ignoring you?"

He frowned, they had a point though. A few nights ago you went to him, expressing concern about the amount of work he'd been doing and of course, all he said to her was "I'm busy doing your job as well, peace out." You didn't talk to him ever since that incident, only a few words like "hey" and "sign this".

He waited. He was probably the most patient man you knew. Anyways, on your way back to the HQ, you kept ignoring him. Hange called you to hold a conversation with you about the lovely, handsome man who was determined to fund the next operation. Meanwhile, Levi was gone. Perhaps he was too tired. Perhaps...

Damn it. He didn't mean it that. He just wanted you to know that the main reason he was okay with overworking was you, so you would have less work on your plate since you two had the same rankings. He could see now how offensive he came off as. So after a handful amount of blaming and cursing himself and overthinking everything, he decided to wait. Like a patient hunter who waits for his prey, he waits. He kept watching you chatting with the handsome man, he almost felt like a creep. Imagining things he would do to you the moment you get back to the HQ. Although he was inexperienced he felt like he knew exactly what to do and how to do it.

You got to your room only to find Levi, sitting on your bed with his eyes on the floor. You were surprised by the sight. "What the hell are you doing here?"

You raised an eyebrow, little did you know it was going to be about tonight or the other day in his office. "What about?"

There was no emotion in his expression nor his tone as he lifted his head and looked at you "We need to talk."

He sounds annoyed as he lets out a sigh and says "You're right. Why would I talk? I've never been good with my words..." Unlike Erwin or your lover boy of a spoild rich brat.

He got up, stepping towards you. As your confusion grew, the distance between you two shrank by him. He basically invaded your personal space, whispering, "You don't get it, do you?"

Before you could answer him, or even ask him what was he talking about, his lips were on yours. His tongue getting in your mouth, swirling around. You were in one word, shocked.

It finally happened.

You knew damn well no joy in this world lasted long so now that you had such a delightful moment, you claimed it. You closed your eyes, kissing him back as he put one of his hands on your waist and the other on the back of your shoulders as he pulled you even closer. You rested one of your hands on the back of his neck, and the other ran through his undercut, yanking his raven hair a little.

You broke the kiss to catch your breath and hallelujah, you were blessed by a scene no one had ever seen. He looked at you with half-lidded eyes that were filled with desire. The blush was spread all over his cheeks and his lips were swallowed, puffy and wet.

He was like a painting by some lavish artist in Wall Sina. You could just look at him all day long but as you were too busy admiring his beauty, his lips invaded your neck, sucking it oh so desperately. He kissed your skin and ran his tongue on it like a thirsty man who finally found water. He felt helpless in your presence. All of the questions in his head were answered now. Why does he get pissed whenever someone gets too close to you? Why does he find himself looking for you in every crowded room during the meetings or meals? Why is it that he hates it when you overwork yourself and when you ask him for something and he gives whatever it is to you like a mindless puppet?

He...adored you. Simply loved you. As much as anyone like him was ever capable of loving someone.

So there he was, cursing your soft skin and scent for making him this animalistic. This brainless as he bit your earlobe. He just wanted you, at this moment, in was only you and him in this whole world.

And oh man, when he finally heard your moans...it was as if something got into him, driving him to the verge of sanity. He felt a disgustingly sweet warmth in his heart as he heard those angelic moans. He wanted more, no he needed more.

When he finally could let go of that smooth neck, his mouth got close to your ear as he whispered "If you want me to stop this is your last chance because if I take one step further I won't be able to stop. Make up your mind and make sure you won't regret it."

Is he fucking serious? Hasn't he noticed it already? Hasn't he seen the desperation in your smallest actions? Didn't he realize you needed him?

Probably not, otherwise, he wouldn't say such a dumb thing. As a response, you unbuttoned his shirt as your eyes never left his. Running your hands on his chest, drawing circles around his nipples with ghostly movements. He grabbed your wrist and made you lie on your back on your bed. He got rid of his shirt, throwing it god knows where. Now came the hard part.

Should I tear her stupid dress up or fuck her with it on?

He slid two fingers in your mouth while your head rested on the pillow beneath your head. The other hand unbuckled his belt. You sucked his fingers as if your life depended on it, taking them into your thraot, muffled moans came out of your mouth. Then he pulled the wet fingers out of your mouth, slid them into the collar of your dress and ran them all over your breasts. He pulled out your breasts, perhaps if you weren't a mess and your mind actually did have any room for anything except for Levi and pleasure, you would've seen the spark in his eyes once he saw your exposed body. Oh he wasn't going to take that dress off. You would be fucked with that tease on.

He sucked your nipple as if it was his meal after long days of starvation while the already wet fingers of his played with the other, pinching and twisting it. He hasn't really done much at this point but you could still feel the heat between your legs. You were on cloud nine, so you didn't mind the marks he had left on your breasts once he was done with them. Exposed, wet and sore. The air hitting the wet flesh makes you feel the chill down your spine. He went down, holding one of your legs by the ankle as he put it on his shoulder. You still had your heels on. He kissed your ankle, leaving hot, wet traces on your leg as he was kissing it and running his tongue on it. He marked your legs too as he was sucking and nibbing them, worshipping them basically. He goes up little by little until he reaches the gates of heaven. He specifically only runs the tip of his tongue on where your hips are connected to your body. He wanted to tease you, he kissed your skin so hard and sucked it while bitting it. Small bites all over the skin that are close to that era. All of a sudden he slipped his tongue into your panties, leaving kitten licks on your folds as the fabric was still on and that's when you saw the stars. "You were having fun, weren't you? Ignoring me and chatting with a spoiled brat. Huh? Did you like it when he was eyefucking you? Tsk...he had no idea I'd be devouring you like this, had he?"

"Levi...Please..."

"Answer me!"

"Nghh no I didn't enjoy it!"

"Oh? And why is that? You seemed very pleased by the attention he gave you."

He couldn't help but leave a slap on your pussy, you gasped in surprise and pain as he started stroking it while the underwear was still on. He pulled the underwear so up the fabric was now rather exposing everything and leaving a delicious pain.

"Doesn't matter anymore cause you're mine!"

He pulled the underwear down, put both of your legs on his shoulders and he got closer, stroking his cock on your entrance, feeling your wetness. Then with no warning, he slid two fingers in. You moaned loudly then she smacked your buttock with the other hand.

"Keep it down unless you want everyone to know what a mess you turned into under me. Not that I have any problem with that though."

He increased the speed of his fingers, and then, they found the sweet spot in you. Once he saw how you reacted-practically jumped- he knew he pushed the right button. He aimed the spot again and again and again until you had to shut your moans by covering your mouth with your hand.

"You like it, don't you? Fuck you're so wet. What a filthy girl you are! My filthy girl."

"Levi...not enough...please..."

"Please, what y/n?"

You didn't see any smirk on his lips but you heard it in his tone .

"Slow down? Stop? Leave you like this? What?"

"No! No no no no, please! F...fuck me already. Levi!"

"You're lucky I'm not going to punish you for ignoring me this whole week!"

He then pulled out the fingers, digging them into the flesh of her thighs now as he repositioned himself between them, holding his cock, entering her hole slowly. Her eyes rolled back and a loud moan skipped from her mouth, she bit her lips to shut the moans. Levi, on the other hand, kept it quiet with ease, not that his cock didn't twist by the scene in front of him but he kept it down only to listen to her. He slowly pushed further and now was fully in her. He put a hand next to her head, on the bed as the other held one of her legs on his shoulder. He was looking at her closer as he whispered "Look at you..."

He wasn't sure if you heard him, you didn't really. Too preoccupied by the pain and the pleasure.

"Tell me when you're ready, okay?"

He tucked a stray of her hair behind her ear as he was waiting for her to adjust, secretly admiring her in every possible way. Not only her beauty but also her grace.

"G...go on."

And that was all he needed to hear. All those years of training and his stamina were paying off in another way now... not to fight or destroy but to pleasure and satisfy. Initially, his hips moved in a slow yet hard and steady way. He didn't moan, but he was panting while you were a hot mess, trying so hard and desperately to get a hold of yourself and keep it down, shutting your moans, but you failed. All you could do was not scream.

That was until he found that sweet spot again. (Bold of you to assume he forgot where it was in the first place). Your neck arched back as you let out another loud moan. He increased his speed, aiming for that poor spot. Hitting it over and over. You could swear at this point your walls got his shape, feeling every vein and curve of his cock.

One of his hands grabbed your breast tightly and the other was now working on your clit. Started with ghostly slow touches, getting more and more aggressive as his speed increased. You were seeing stars. It didn't take you long before your pussy was tightened around his cock, and that's when he knew you were closed.

"Cum for me. Make a mess on my cock."

And as if that was all you needed to hear, you followed his command. Reaching your climax in no second, still moaning. Good thing everyone's already asleep. You hoped so.

The marks on your neck and breasts, the mess you became because of him, your smudged lisptick, and ruined mascara made him proud. No, that's an underestimation. It struck his ego. That alone could make him cum and boy, he did cum. He pulled out and cummed on that stupid dress on yours that had been on his nerves all night long.

Still both of you were panting when he fell right next to you on the bed.

"You...ruined my dress...jerk!"

"I'll buy you another brat."

[jeonscatalyst]

As someone who's been into kpop for over 10 years, I just wanted to comment on the saesang ask. Saesangs aren't in their right mind, most of them are deeply obsessed with the person they are stalking and also have an element of desiring control over the person/wanting to feel closer than other fans. Most of them don't aim to air out an idol's private life, unless they get pissed off i.e. find out the idol is dating and feel like a jilted lover for example, so they lash out and leak private info. Most of them either have a mother or lover complex (for male idol saesangs) and want to control them. Their goal isn't to leak info, but to feel close and special to the idol.

There are some saesangs who do it for money by selling info about idols. BTS is so famous now that this isn't really viable because other than really really gullible people, most people realize that anyone could make stuff up about bts and call it "insider info". They're so big, it also makes more sense to go to Dispatch or something like that with "real info" to get top media dollar than sell to random fans. Even former saesangs say you'd have to be an idiot to buy bts "info" nowadays because its all going to be bullshit.

I want to be clear that any "legit" saesang rumor comes from idols having their personal life invaded without consent. I'm not saying their is a rumor about jikook out there, but even if there was, no one who actually gives any amount of fuck about them (especially korean fans who have a history of gatekeeping stuff that could harm the boys) as human beings would spread it, because it'd basically be outing them because actual saesangs have a terrifying amount of knowledge and connection to these idol's inner lives. I wanna be very careful how I say this, but for example there were group chat messages from an infamous saesang that got leaked years ago that in my opinion, implied some things about a kpop idol that had no right being implied publicly without their consent. You might wonder, well what about antis who hear the rumor, won't they spread it? But once again, most saesangs aren't looking to spread info about the idol they're stalking, and even if they do, a lot of them seem to mostly engage with other saesangs of the group their idol is in because they are, in some messed up obsessive unhealthy way, still a "fan" of the idol. So unless the groupchat gets pissed and someone leaks it or the saesang feels jilted by the idol they stalk, most of that stuff stays there.

Now in regards to jikook, the obvious reality is that they're bandmates. There's nothing crazy about them hanging out or being seen together. They even tell us themselves how much time they spend together privately at times. They aren't going to makeout in public, so what would a saesang say anyway even if they wanted to reveal stuff about them (which as I stated before, most of them don't aim to do anyway)? They saw them together? So what? Also as you @jeonscatalyst said, these people aren't god, just stalkers. Even they have limits and all saesangs aren't equal in terms of access to their idol, opportunities, etc. that allow them to get "info".

Also, pretty much all the "rumors" we hear about jikook even in heterosexual relationships don't come from saesangs, its just made up shit from random korean forums (this is actually the case for a lot of kpop rumors, not just related to jikoook or bts). This isn't to say jikook is real or something, but that we actually don't hear from "actual" saesangs as much as people like to pretend. I think i-fans of kpop think that term comes with authority because it implies a closeness to the idol from being a stalker (which is fucked up because why are we putting stalkers on a pedestal but I digress), so they kind of slap it on any rumor, but that's really not the case, especially for a group as famous as bts. You think if someone wants to make money off a rumor about them or aims to leak private info to take them down, they're going to sell it or share it into the fandom? No, they'd take it straight to the media or competing k-pop companies who would pay top dollar and be frothing at the mouth to take down the biggest kpop group in history. Basically, even if a saesang does want to spread something, its not coming to us in the form of fandom rumor. And since this is a jikook blog, let's pretend a saesang thinks jikook are a thing and for one reason or another, decides to share that info. How does spreading that info even work? What media company is going to not only out someone, but also risk looking like an actual buffoon for thinking two group members are together? The group aspect of bts gives plausible deniability for everything up until actual romantic/sexual physical contact pretty much, something which a saesang is never going to get evidence of unless they figure out how to become the actual wallpaper inside jikook's apartments. Even if they spread it though the fandom, fans will just look at them like a shipper. Like "aww you have a pic of them out at a restaurant? how cute! #jikookarethebestbros". I think it can't be overstated how much them being in the same group and shipping culture (+ homophobia) aid in downplaying any possibility of an actual romantic relationship being there.

Also just a sidenote, but saesangs are just extremely disturbed fans, they can be y/n's (most of them are), they can be homophobic, etc. Jungkook has some of most y/n fans of any top male kpop idol. Do I think its beyond a saesang to see their fave idol in a same-sex relationship and think "I can fix him (make him straight)?" Not at all. Do I think it would be above them to start seeing the other member/partner as "the other woman" and start hating them or blaming them for tainting their beloved idol? Not at all. In this scenario, I doubt they'd want to spread this info they think is "shameful" about their fave idol, they would just think he needs "fixed" or pulled away from the person "contaminating" him.

Anyway, I have spent waaaay to long in the kpop fandom, even pre-bts (when saesangs almost seemed worse back then) and this is the general consensus I have garnered about why saesangs are the way they are.

Thanks anon, for your very insightful input💜

[sasaranurude]

Okay. I've been playing Tokyo Debunker today, since the release happened to catch me on a day when all I'd planned to do was write fanfiction. I just finished reading the game story prologue (it was longer than expected!), so here's a review type post. If you're reading this post not having seen a single thing about this game: it's a story-based joseimuke gacha mobile game that just released globally today. It's about a girl who suddenly finds herself attending a magic school and mingling with elite, superhuman students known as ghouls. If you look in the tumblr tag for the game you'll see what appears to be a completely different game from 2019 or so: they retooled it completely midway through development, changing just about everything about it due to "escalating competition within the gaming industry."

I'll talk about how this looks like a blatant twst clone at the end.

Starting with the positive: The story is charming. I enjoyed it thoroughly the entire time and am excited to read more. The mix between visual novel segments and motion comics was really nice--it broke things up and added a lot of oomph to the action or atmospheric scenes that visual novels generally lack. I like the art in the comic parts a lot. the live2d in the visual novel parts is... passable. Tone-wise, I think the story was a little bit all over the place and would like to see more of the horror that it opened on, but I didn't mind the comedic direction it went in either. The translation is completely seamless. The characters so far all have unique voices and are just super fun and cute. Of the ones who've had larger roles in the story so far, there's not a single one I dislike. It's all fully voiced in Japanese and the acting is solid. (I don't recognize any voices, and can't seem to find any seiyuu credits, so it seems they're not big names, but they deliver nonetheless.) Kaito in particular I found I was laughing at his lines a ton, both the voicing and the writing.

He's looking for a girlfriend btw. Spreading the word.

The problem is like. The gameplay is the worst dark-pattern microtransaction-riddled bullshit I've ever seen. Hundred passive timers going at all times. Fifty different item-currencies. Trying to get you to spend absurd amounts of real world money at every turn. There's like five different indicators that take you to various real-money shop items that I don't know how to dismiss the indicator, I guess you just have to spend money, wtaf. Bajillion different interlocking systems mean you have zero sense of relative value of all the different item-currencies. I did over the course of the day get enough diamonds for one ten-pull, which I haven't used yet. Buying enough diamonds for a ten-pull costs a bit under $60 (presumably USD, but there's a chance the interface is automatically making that CAD for me--not gonna spend the money to check lmfao), with an SSR rate of 1%. BULLSHIIIIIT.

There's like a goddamn thousand-word essay explaining the dozen different types of character upgrades and equippables and equippables for the equippables!! Bad! Bad game design! That's just overcomplicating bullshit to trick people into thinking they're doing something other than clicking button to make number go up! That is not gameplay!

In terms of the actual gameplay, there is none. The battle system is full auto. There might be teambuilding, but from what I've seen so far, most of that consists of hoping you pull good cards from gacha and then clicking button to make number go up. There's occasional rhythm segments but there's no original music, it's just remixes of public domain classical music lmao. I'd describe the rhythm gameplay as "at least more engaging than twisted wonderland's," which is not a high bar

At least there's a cat in the rhythm bit.

And like, ok, I gotta remark on how derivative it is. Like I mentioned in my post earlier, this game is unabashedly aping twisted wonderland's setting and aesthetic. (That said, most of the stuff it steals from twst is magic school stuff that twst also basically stole from Harry Potter, so...?) However, it isn't exactly like twst: in this one, the characters say fuck a lot and bleed all over the place and do violence. Basically, the tone is a fair bit more adult than twst's kid-friendly vibe. (Not, like, adult adult, and I probably wouldn't even call it dark--it's still rated Teen lol. Just more adult than twst.)

Rather than just being students at magic school, the ghouls also go out into the mundane world to go on missions where they fight and investigate monsters and cryptids. Honestly, the magic school setting feels pretty tacked-on. The things that are enjoyable about this would've been just as enjoyable in about any other setting--you can tell this whole aspect was a late trend-chasing addition, lmao. So, yeah, it's blatantly copying twst to try to steal some players, but... Eh, I found myself not caring that much. Someone more (or less) into twst than me may find it grating.

Character-wise, eh, sure, yeah, they're a bit derivative in that aspect too, but it's a joseimuke game, the characters are always derivative. Thus far the writing & execution has been solid enough that I didn't care if they were tropey. If I were to compare it to something else, I'd say the relationship between the protagonist and the ghouls feels more like that of the sage and wizards in mahoyaku than anything from twst. There's some mystery in exactly what "ghouls" are and their place in this world that has me intrigued and wanting to know more about this setting and how each of the characters feels about it. I have a bad habit of getting my hopes up for stories that put big ideas on the table and then being disappointed when they don't follow through in a way that lives up to my expectations, though.

So, my final verdict: I kind of just hope someone uploads all the story segments right onto youtube so nobody has to deal with the dogshit predatory game to get the genuinely decent story lol. Give it a play just for the story if you have faith in your ability to resist dark patterns. Avoid at all costs if you know you're vulnerable to gacha, microtransactions, or timesinks.

[mclalan]

Corp Zomphis, 2020s Design Speculation

I want to talk about Corp Memphis again— that corporate style of gangly, dead-eyed characters trapped in a neoliberal purgatory, posed between pot plants and spreadsheets.

I don't need to go too far into describing it. Heaven knows there are already so many takes on it that you're probably sick of hearing about it. However, I think a succinct description of it can be found at the end of that Wired magazine article from a few years back:

Wired: Corporate Memphis: The Tech Industry’s Favourite New Art Style

"But, despite all this, it may not be worth lamenting the immense reach of Corporate Memphis or the design possibilities we’ve been deprived of because of it. The style is, after all, simply a reflection of big tech, and how it has constructed a world with users on one side and executives on the other.

A more interesting and visually rich digital space would mean more than coming up with a new illustration style—it would require a change in how the tech economy is run. Until then, Corporate Memphis is likely to stick around, bendy arms and all."

This touches on why Corporate Memphis looks the way it does: it's a reflection of the material reality it's made in and the economic conditions it serves.

To work in a design job today often involves being a "multi-practitioner"— corp speak for a jack of all trades. You might have multiple platforms to manage, need to create a mix of media (motion graphics, branding, illustrations, etc.), and produce multiple pieces of content, all for some pointless product consumed by placated consumers.

And that’s all in a day's work, to be repeated the next. It's gruelling, unforgiving, mind-numbing work—especially if you take pride in what you do. Life doesn't become easier, but it does become bearable if the medium you're working in isn't fighting against you. A style that can work across platforms, can be easy enough for anyone in the department to use, but versatile enough to allow effort when there's time and money. It's homogeneous to the point where the messy, qualitative complications of art direction don't come into play. You can download a vector stock or make it in-house with relative ease and speed, and it looks good enough. The consumer, despite being fatigued by it all, seems to find it good enough. And that's what marks the style really: it's "good enough." It's a style linked to speed and practicality in the face of intense demand and pressure, low industry wages, accessible skills for entry levels, and high corporate barriers as everything's locked within Adobe's infrastructure.

But its strength as this homogeneous vector glob style, with its lack of any real individual identity, is also its biggest weakness. Although I'm sure some designers might enjoy working in this style, it's not really a style designed for creative individual expression. It's called "corporate" for a reason. If you want something different, you might be tempted to try freelancing...

Outside the corporate design department, you might think you're finally free to create in your own style, no longer having to work in that dreaded Corporate Memphis one anymore. But it’s hard enough to work in your own individual style under the best of circumstances. That's because the whole economy is based on the same structures of endless content production for algorithmically optimised consumption that allowed Corp Memphis to thrive, so you're still facing familiar obstacles—creating vast amounts of content, quickly, for wide and insatiable consumer audiences. So, in a way, we have this algorithm-enforced market of content, favouring those who have optimised their style to be better seen by it. It's no wonder Corporate Memphis has endured past its welcome.

However, despite all that, illustrators and artists still plod on. They end up making stuff, somehow navigating these systems— either playing them like a fiddle, outright rejecting them, or going accelerationist about it, like with something such as Corecore. Self-expression can take many forms, and that potential untapped capital value is tantalisingly mouthwatering to corporate capitalists.

Corp Memphis is optimised to a fault. It's too polished, too automated, and fits too well with the well-oiled design apparatus. Thus, it's developed a semiotics to reflect this—it's cheap and it's perceived as cheap. That's why an art director (typically) won’t just stick some Corp Memphis imagine on an album cover or use it to illustrate a particular lifestyle magazine. It wouldn't suit it, it's signalling the wrong stuff. Culture, art, ideas, aesthetics are reflected in work created by practitioners with an artistic vision, or that taps into what's going on in the present. And this is reflected in their art style, something Corp Memphis can't easily do, if at all.

That's why there's still a kind of fringe freelance industry with a speciality in design identity, otherwise known in the industry as "creatives", albeit small and closely gatekept by the likes of legacy institutions such as Goldsmiths and corporate industry leaders like The HudsonBec Group. If a corporation needs design to be spiced up with some kind of creative identity, it'll turn to these agencies or freelancers from this background rather than use Corp Memphis.

But the sad thing is how a corporation doesn't have total control over the process and thus can't control the value and pricing since they have to deal with hiring these pesky freelancers. But how does a corporation even know who to hire? With moodboards, of course! It’s easier to hire someone in-house with "good taste," who can simply curate hot practitioners to hire, like a dragon collecting .png gems. Although a corporation will try to get the best deal it can, these pesky freelancers can potentially negotiate a price for themselves, especially if they’re some big shot who holds a lot of cultural capital.

But another benefit of a moodboard is that it can be converted into a design guide. Simply share the sorts of designers and illustrators that a corporation dreams of hiring but with a cheaper designer, and ask if they can copy the desired style for less. Failing that, they can just outright steal the style anyway. If the creator is small enough, who cares?

But the value and cultural capital that corporations must seek outside their infrastructure, the very thing Corp Memphis cannot do, comes at the price of what Corp Memphis can do. Freelancers are annoying to corporations. They’re inconsistent, outside their remit, and expensive—since any level of lost capital is an expense. And worse of all, they don’t own them. Work made in-house in a corporation is completely theirs to be used forever, however they see fit. A freelance gig is limited to the contract, and typically you have to keep paying for different uses, or pay a lot if it’s expected to be used for something big.

How dare these skilled workers... sorry, freelancers, leverage themselves. If only we, the corporation, could control and treat the work of freelanced art direction like we do Corporate Memphis. Well, maybe we can—with AI.

AI is a whole can of worms of its own. But I will outline how AI shares a lot with Corp Memphis in terms of mechanics, but it's not "good enough" like Corp Memphis is in terms of its aesthetics.

Let's put it like this, if Corp Memphis is above a stock image, which is above clip art, which is above a farting Elsa asset-flip mobile game, then AI-generated images are below that, sharing the same disdainful semiotics of a YouTube thumbnail. AI renders are synonymous with trash, with viewers combing over images seeking out any sniff of AI to decry it. This is, of course, unfortunate for corporations, because AI is wonderfully cheap and efficient to produce. The problem with even "the best" AI is that it still reeks of AI, because it's trained on relatively limited data sets that are the wrong semiotics that corporations typically use and that their consumers are typically familiar with. It's not consistent with typical standards and trends. But even the AI art styles synonymous with AI are really that of unfortunate ArtStation artists whose work has been stolen, scraped, and trained into these models. But none of it is directed, follows trends, or should I say, reflects trends favoured by brands.

Design industry standard work is also bolstered by their industry standing. Their "credibility" sets them apart from, as Mark Zuckerberg puts it, the worthless creators and publishers who ‘overestimate their value’. Sure Zuckerberg might say design is worthless, but let's not forget that Facebook Alegria, the design language developed for Facebook by the mega studio Buck Design in 2017, pretty much started Corp Memphis! I don't know how much that would have cost Zuck, but given how huge Buck is, I don't know, close to $1 million if I had to speculate. So what Zuck is actually saying is you are worthless, without your titles and industry standing, and are ripe for the scrapping.

I still think it would appear crass to the wider public if someone as tactless as Zuck were to steal wholesale from something like It’s Nice That's list of featured artists, due to the "prestigious" tutelage and culture capital of such trendy practitioners. Good luck if you're on your own though.

There's also the issue of copyright. I've no idea how litigious David Rudnick is, maybe he wouldn't even mind, but perhaps it would be legally safer to just hire a copycat of him rather than train an AI on his work. There's no shortage of copycats of him after all, and they'd probably do a better job than AI anyway.

No, a corporation if it wants to avoid all this mess will instead use AI this way:

Step One: Moodboardism

Directed by their little Pinterest moodboards and Instagram saves, a corporation will find the next latest and strongest trend that they want to utilise, be it Y2K or whatever's current on the human ant colony-as-algorithm site, Carri Institute's aesthetics.

Step Two: The Sellout

Hire an on trend freelancer with a large sack of money marked with a dollar sign to do a year's worth of graphic content in a particular on trend style. This is all then fed into their in-house AI database model.

Step Three: Rise and Grind

It's then handed over to the in-house sweatshop graphic designers as the latest toolset that they have to use. They're now tasked with grinding out prompts in this trendy style with the consistency, efficiency, and speed once only achievable with Corp Memphis.

So congratulations, now we have AI that isn't generic Facebook shrimp Jesus trash; it'll be its own unique trash. And sure, perhaps some AI artefacts might come through, but that's what the in-house graphic designers are for— to Photoshop those fingers. The corp no longer needs to put up with some meddlesome expensive freelance art director, as the AI model is consistent enough that someone in-house can direct it, just like Corporate Memphis. And even then, if it still comes across as AI-ish, the hope is that for the general public, it's "good enough", just like Corp... You get the idea.

And this is possible because a freelancers' perceived autonomous strength as corporate mercenaries is also their biggest weakness. They think they can dance with the devil and win, making essentially veneers for capitalists, never once thinking the corporations will one day come to extract capital from them too. Corporate Memphis is never going to die; it's going to mutate into a corporate zombie... Corp Zomphis?

Why bother hiring individual skilled freelancers to do a job in a specific style when you have a year's worth of art, seeded by one of them, to prompt out your own "unique" designs in their style. It's more efficient and cheaper to approach design as a egragore hungry for its next feed, rather than pay for a single illustration. But you'll just have to trust me when I say that I'm not making this up; annual hires to train their own ai is genuinely what big corporation are doing.

But what about the industry, are they just gonna let it happen? I don't know. But I think freelancers don't typically see themselves as a working class, but instead as individualistic, competitive even, little businesses. This is why I think corps will be able to steamroll over freelance designers and illustrators with AI driven Corp Zomphis, because there's no solidarity amongst designers and illustrators, unlike US animators with their union and perception of themsleves as workers. If one freelancer rejects that devil deal to make the annual quantity of prompt feed for a corp, then the next hire will. I remember even hearing the AoI stressing how it wasn't a union, as if union was a dirty word. Instead its existence is to help one interface with their corporate client overlord. Well, soon enough that interfacing will be about betraying your industry freelance brethren to a corporate egragore, basically turning everything into a potential Corporate Memphis reskin. If Corporate Memphis is the design logic of the economy of the 2010s, then I wouldn't be surprised to see people nostalgic for it in the future, if the speculative 2020s model I've described turns out to be true.

[kremlin]

i figure most human behaviour that, not only doesn’t occur in other animals but has zero connection to animal behavior is basically distantly rooted in the known fear of inevitable death. let me be clear. cats and shit don’t know they’re gonna die. we do. we have thoughts. we know it’s coming. we think we’re gonna be rich, bullshit like that, most humans believe in magic and most humans doubt that math is a universal or consistent thing. total nonsense right. but everyone knows their ass is gonna die. before you write me off as some dumbass reciting basic 101 level university lectures just Trust Me I’m An Engineer. anyways. being human and dying are somewhat one in the same.

“if i do nonhuman things i can cheat the reaper.” short and sweet. if i can beat zelda faster than anyone i can outrun the reaper. and you know what, fuck it, i’m scared shitless of dying. it’s gonna hurt really bad no doubt. what if the brain destroyal process makes time slow down in my perception and it’s not just like five seconds of bleeding out or fire ant bites or however you go. Scary. so i’ll play along:

i am an average american man and i enjoy bad game runescape. it’s a computer game. MMO. kill monster get loot. sell what i don’t want to other players for gold. spamming chat with “SELLING BOWSTRINGS 200gp” for an hour “sucks” so the devs add a grand exchange where you can post buy/sell orders for a given item+price to maximize gameplay efficiency and minimize social interaction.

like any other MMO you can pay some sketchy website real money for ingame gold farmer by chinese gold farmers. totally against the rules. remember this

so the first thing that comes to any male aged 23-27 mind is “buy low sell high” basic bitch shit. no good. there’s a 5% tax that’ll wipe out your profit margin intended to eliminate this behavior (you’re supposed to friggen kill monsters). but everyone thinks they’re a genius and can beat the system and that there is a secret george soros style illuminati group that is holding the secrets, blah blah blah, whatever, and this comes as a coping mechanism after losing your shirt after trying to beat the market (success rate of 0%).

here is where people mostly quit thinking: if you do the math, which takes about ten minutes and can be done on one side of a sheet of paper with the most basic calculator, it’s easy to figure out that the amount of gold you’d need to play dirty (buy out all the available Feathers or Fire Runes or whatever) in order to corner the market would be so high that there is no possible way for a character to hold that much without having spent IRL money for gold. you’d get autobanned.

SO..finally, go on the ol’ www.reddit.com, and make a really really professional-to-professional sounding post advertising a “service”. Saturate the fuck out of it with dense but very real financial jargon. the “service” (which needs to be obscured enough with plausible and relevant language) is a hedging service aimed at make-believe market players who are buying and selling such huge amounts of items and gold (usually in anticipation of a game update that will speculatively introduce a sudden, dramatic, and capitalizable price change for some item). you need it to be as alien-sounding and foreign as possible but with enough believability and clarity that a handful of reddit jackasses will figure out what the fuck your post is about. whenever pressed further, act totally puzzled and make it very clear that this is not a service relevant to “individual entertainment-motivated” players or some shit. no matter what amount of gold anyone quotes at you, just act puzzled and if that amount is 1/1000th the amount one of your “normal” clients deal with. you need to do all of this extremely artfully. and by “you”, i’ve been meaning to write “me”. really lay it on thick that whatever you’re “doing” is totally unavailable to them and that you want zero to do with them.

so now theyre still mostly totally confused but enough is made clear that their interest is piqued. got my hook in em. some guy will copy/paste wikipedia shit in an obnoxiously long and pseudointellectual, contemptible but characteristically reddit guy style what you’re “selling” actually is in the most exhausting, hand-holdingest way to his fellow reddit gamers. with complete tone of authority.

inevitably one of them will put on their sherlock holmes hat and go deep undercover, emailing me posing as an interested party. bingo. now i get to really lay on the WTF and go off the rails asking about vouchers from One Of The Big Seven, but oh no, you can’t get one of them to vouch for you, that’s fine, it makes sense, we’re the only firm that deals with unvouched, that’s our market, well, one of them at least. Just give me a rough rundown of your entry criteria, dwell time, risk tolerance, fuckin “Gamma Ratio”, you know, all the basic stuff, and i’ll have the team generate a .xlsx for you to plug your data into to get a rough feel for what the final contract might be like.

(lololol) But REMEMBER, that excel sheet is seeded, output is fuzzed and salted and if you share it or try and sell it to our competitors, it will be fuzzy enough to be worthless to them but obvious to us who leaked what. this is the only way we’re able to integrate unvouched clients without untenable premiums and while managing our risk levels

blah blah blah blah, i go on and on and on and the guy on the other end is developing a scab from constant head-scratching. and that’s about the maximum real-world harm i’m willing to inflict. i know this sounds like an elaborate as fuck confidence scam but it isn’t. that shit makes me sick. i’d literally slam my arms in a car door before taking a cent from all this. hell, i’ll go out of my way to guarantee i don’t even piss anyone off or offend them or anything.

your guess is as good as mine but i do stuff like this constantly for anything i know well enough and the example i gave above is just a pretty low quality one i made up on the spot. this is a public blog after all.

anyways, cheers, hoping this saves me from dying or whatever the hell i was talking about before that could have probably been cut out. Namaste. Mahala.

[asleepinawell]

sorry if this seems a bit out of the blue, but ever since youve been posting about fallen london, im a bit curious about it! What is the game about and where can I get it?

oh no worries! I'm happy to ramble about it

fallen london is a free to play browser game you can find here. the basic premise is that sometime in the 1800's the entire city of london is engulfed in a swarm of bats and then falls through the earth into a cavern a mile below. this is the neath, a huge underground cavern where london sits on the shore of a vast ocean. queen victoria is still around locked in her palace being a typical shitty british monarch, who, amongst other things, decided that 1900 was cancelled and we were just going to have 1899 for a second time

things are a little...different down there. humans are far from the only ones running around. there's devils, rubbery men (think mind flayer vibes), clay men, and the shadowy cloaked figures running the bazaar (and the city) called the masters. death mostly isn't permanent and the dream world is a little too real. also, most importantly, cats can talk! and there are tons of them! and tigers too

it's got victorian, gothic horror, dark humor, lovecraftian vibes. also it's extremely queer as is everything the dev, failbetter games, makes. something I especially appreciate is that you don't have to give your character any particular gender (though you can) and some of the little avatars are very gender neutral:

since it's free to play it comes with the normal things that type of game has such as real money transactions (completely optional and unnecessary for enjoyment (though some of the bonus side stories you can buy are extremely cool)), limited number of actions you can take (max of 20 at a time and refills 1 per 10 minutes). it is definitely grindy too though there's so many things to do (cannot emphasize the insane amount of content enough) I will usually just switch things up every so often

it's single player for the most part but you can ask friends to assist you in certain actions and there are some specific items that can be sent to other players

(if you like the setting but not the free to play part you can check out mask of the rose which is a visual novel they just released set right after london fell. it's a romance but with full aro and ace options (which I actually preferred) and a murder mystery. that one is a normal just buy the whole game deal and I think it's on most platforms. there's also sunless seas and sunless skies which take place in the same world but are a very different type of game and would require their own post. all of these have great writing in them)

but back to fallen london. it works based off of 'storylets', or little short stories when you usually do a skill check to accomplish something in return for advancing the story, levelling your skills, and reward items. you unlock more and more things as you go and get access to new stories and areas. here's an example of one of the little activities and its resolution

since it's a game designed to be able to play endlessly there isn't really a way to lose or game over. you can die but dying is just a minigame of its own and sometimes even a thing to do purposefully. (the only actual way to die is the notorious story called seeking mr eaten's name which you may have seen me post about, which is a very unique story that will permanently erase your character at the end. why you'd ever want to do that would also be its own post. it's pretty hard to stumble on accidentally I think and extremely well-marked as a thing with severe consequences that you probably shouldn't do. or should you...)

anyway I'd definitely recommend giving fallen london a try if you're interested in the premise and aesthetic

[casualaruanienjoyer]

Right haven't done one of those is so long buuuut....

What would be the favorite food of these AOT characters?

Armin: he strikes me as a fish guy, someone who enjoys carp dinner perhaps? Or maybe crab cakes? Something light, maybe even caught fresh. Well, it has to be, because Annie probably hates the smell of fish. He needs to be very careful with how he cooks it!

Annie: do I have to say this?? SWEET PASTRIES! Of any kind!! But she'a fond of jam donuts with powder sugar on top. She can eat an endless amount! No, for real, the bakeries can't keep up with her anymore.

Mikasa: Soup! She loves how warm and familiar it feels to her. It's like eating a hug, and she can always try new combinations of ingredients for it. She also likes to feed everyone who visits, even if they are hungry or not. You go to Mikasa's place? You eat soup!

Eren: he's a bit of a strange one, but there's just something about nuggets and fries that just works. Every day. Every time. Beige food is Eren food.

Jean: he's a fancy guy, so obviously... stake! Delicious juicy stake, and we can't forget about the wine! Only the finest! Until he spills it over himself... every time.

Reiner: the first thing that came to mind was mashed potatoes with meatballs and sweet tomato sauce. A very barebone recipe that just hits the right spot for him! Something that makes him feel at home. I bet he cries every time he has it too.

Connie: spicy food!! Of any kind! Maybe Indian, maybe Mexican? Doesn't matter! The only important thing is for his tongue to be ON FIRE!

Sasha: anything. She's a living, breathing food trashcan! But if she had to pick, perhaps any kind of game meat, wild animals that she hunted herself.

Pieck: She's all about pasta, any form, any shape. However, her favorite seems to be anything coated in copious amounts of Pesto!

Gabi: she's that kid that just LOVES sour candies. The ones that are so sour they make your eyes water. She likes pranking Reiner with them and watching him suffer.

Falco: he doesn't usually admit it, but he loves a good strawberry shortcake. Sometimes, when Annie buys some for herself, she'd also get Falco a slice. It's their little secret.

Zeke: this man will absolutely obliterate a burger. The taller, the better. Sides? Hell yes, add some fries and some corn on the cob and this man is SOLD. What's that? Unlimited refils on the drinks? You bet this man will do his best to make the most of his money!! People often have to physically pull him away from the drinks machines.

Yelena: Sushi, particularly sashimi. Simple, elegant food. She will kill someone for it if she needs to. So please, never take sashimi away from her. Ever.

Onyankopon: my dude can COOK, he's absolutely amazing at it, there isn't a single person who hasn't tried his cooking. He struggles to pick favorites, though he does really enjoy a good goat curry with rice, veggies and a delicious spicy sauce on top.

Levi: good old fashioned tea cakes. Obviously! Although not often, he does really enjoy snacking on them, especially when he enjoys a warm cup of tea on rainy days.

Hange: pizza!! So many different kinds it's almost impossible for her to pick!! Veggie?? Meat feast?? Italian?? Or why not ALL OF THEM AT ONCE!

[roosterforme]

Two to Tango Part 1 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley isn't afraid of a little competition between the Naval aviators and Air Force pilots. And when you prove to be as good as you claimed, he refuses to back down.

Warnings: Adult banter, swearing

Length: 2800 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This fic was written for a request! Thanks for reading! And please check my masterlist for more Top Gun fun.

"This is the worst fucking week of the whole goddamn year," Bradley muttered to Phoenix, Hangman, and Coyote as they stood on the blazing hot tarmac in southern Nevada. 

"Seven days of training with these assholes," Phoenix added, lowering her sunglasses to the tip of her nose and glaring at the four US Air Force pilots standing a few feet away.

"I love how Maverick told us we were lucky to be the four who were chosen, when honestly nobody wants to be here," Coyote complained, wiping his brow with the sleeve of his flight suit.

"Let's torch these losers and get back to San Diego," Hangman said with a devilish grin.

"Doubt any of them can even fly well enough to compete," Bradley said, eyeing up the pilot who just spun around to face him. 

"Excuse me?" you said, strolling confidently toward him with your chin in the air. "What did you just say?"

Bradley smirked. He didn't care if you were going to call him out; he and the other Naval aviators were the best, and he could back up his words any day of the week. Plus you were kind of cute, and getting you all flustered could be fun for him.

"We were just discussing your ineptitude. Well, not yours specifically, sweetheart. Just the general incompetence of Air Force aviators in general," Bradley said, and he heard his friends hooting with laughter around him.

He had expected you to blow up at him, but your placid smile was almost more alarming. "It's really cute, sweetheart, how you think you're better because you can land on a boat. When really, nobody gives a fuck about you at all," you stated calmly. 

Bradley would never admit that he was the one who was feeling flustered, so he just crossed his arms over his chest and said, "It takes real skill to land on an aircraft carrier. Runways are for amateurs," he said, inching closer to you.

"It's almost cute how stupid you are," you told him. "What's your dumb call sign?"

"Rooster," he told you, and you smirked. "What's yours?"

"Tango. As in you don't want to tango with me, sweetheart. So since you're running your mouth, why don't we make a little wager?" you asked, standing your ground as Bradley and his cohorts laughed at you. 

"What did you have in mind?" he asked.

"Two hundred bucks says Air Force ends the week with more points than Navy," you told him, glaring at him over your sunglasses. 

Bradley nodded slowly. "Okay, sounds good. But, if I end up with more points than you, you've gotta say something nice about me in front of everyone."

You chuckled. "And if I end up with more points than you, you'll be the one saying something oh so flattering about me."

Bradley stuck his right hand out and you took it in your smaller one. "Deal. Sweetheart," you told him before turning and stomping away in your boots, back to the other Air Force pilots.

"You've got nothing to worry about," Phoenix said, patting Bradley on the shoulder. "We're gonna smoke them."

--------------------------------------------------

The following morning, Bradley was awake at five and stretching. He'd have a full day of long distance running and obstacle course races ahead of him, and he was determined to take a massive lead in points right off the bat. No way he was going to lose money to a bunch of whiney Air Force pilots who wouldn't be able to cut it at Top Gun. 

He was the first one in the cafeteria, and he selected his breakfast very carefully, trying to get the maximum amount of calories he could. When he turned to find a seat, he saw you breeze into the room. Out of your flight suit, you looked hotter than hell, and Bradley almost dropped his tray of food.

"Morning, sweetheart," you crooned, barely glancing at him as you grabbed a bunch of random food. Your athletic pants were skin tight, and your matching shirt left very little to the imagination and showed off an inch of skin all the way around your waist. Your hair was pulled back showing off your neck and upper back, and Bradley was so mad at himself for picking a fight with you. Because now you automatically found him annoying, while he was thinking about how much he'd like to touch you.

You turned away from the food, leaving him in the dust while he stared at your ass. Now he was distracted. A distraction would be very bad. Especially when his reputation was on the line. "Fuck," he muttered.

He went to sit down at the table where you were already eating alone. "That seat's taken," you told him when he pulled out a chair. When he reached for the one next to it, you told him, "That one is, too." 

"Let me guess," he rasped, setting his tray down anyway. "They're all taken."

You smiled at him while you licked your lips. "You're not as dumb as you look."

Bradley just smirked and sat down directly across from you. "And you're not as sweet and friendly as you look," he said before shoving half of a breakfast sandwich into his mouth and chewing it up. 

"You think I look sweet?" you asked, leaned a little closer to him across the table. 

Bradley let his eyes dip down to your mouth and then your neck before sweeping back to your eyes. "I didn't mean it as a compliment."

Your smile never wavered. "That's fine, because I lied to you."

"About what?" he asked, eyes narrowed. 

"You are as dumb as you look," you told him, nodding at someone behind him. "The seats really are taken."

Bradley turned to see your Air Force teammates looking at him like he'd lost his mind. "You're sitting with us? You know this is a competition, right?" one of them asked.

"This asshole bothering you, Tango?" asked the biggest guy, and Bradley turned back to look at you, your face shining with mirth. 

"Nah, Killer," you replied, looking right at Bradley. "He's just a dumb pussycat. Couldn't hurt a fly." 

Bradley desperately wanted to keep teasing you, but not with company around. "Should I go then?" Bradley asked as he started to stand. 

"No, why don't you stay and get to know the guys. They aren't as sweet and friendly as I am, sweetheart," you told him, walking away without a backward glance. 

And then Bradley had to endure the most uncomfortable breakfast of his life. 

----------------------------

Bradley was two miles into the ten mile run, and he was feeling great. He was keeping pace with Hangman, saving as much energy as he could for the last mile. He ran side by side with Jake, neither of them talking. The sun was intense, and he had already soaked through his compression shorts and his US NAVY TOP GUN tee shirt. But he was determined to win. 

At mile six, you came out of nowhere and caught up with Bradley and Jake. 

"Hey, boys," you said casually. You barely sounded winded at all, and instead of pouring sweat, you looked as good as you had at breakfast. "You guys look a little warm," you said, taking in Bradley's sweaty form from head to toe. "See you at the finish."

Then you tore off ahead of them. Bradley was impressed and once again distracted by your ass. He tried his best to keep up, but it seemed like you kept gaining on him. 

"Damn. She's fast," Jake huffed next to him, and Bradley just grunted. "How much money did you bet?"

"Shit," Bradley gasped, trying to pick up the pace. 

-----------------------------

You had been waiting for him at the finish line, cheering him on by chanting "Rooster!" very loudly and looking like you'd barely broken a sweat. Meanwhile, Bradley had a horrible stitch in his side and was doubled over. He wasn't sure how he was going to manage doing the obstacle course after this, let alone try to beat you at it. 

"You okay, old man?" you asked, crouching down next to him and smirking. 

Bradley turned to look at you. "How old do you think I am?"

"Too old to beat me," you replied, shoving a water bottle in his face. "Drink up. It will be more fun for me to destroy you in the obstacle course if you're properly hydrated."

Then you walked away, and Bradley had to admit he kind of liked your smart mouth. 

Once the points were tallied after the ten mile run, the Air Force team was leading by a small margin. Bradley was angry as he confronted his teammates. "Okay, who dropped the ball?" he asked, eyeing Coyote with one eyebrow raised. 

"I'm not a runner! I'll destroy them on the obstacle course," Coyote promised, and Bradley knew he would. 

Bradley also knew he was exhausted while you looked like you were ready to tear up every obstacle in your way. "Yeah, Tango," the guys on your team all said, giving you high fives. 

It was one thing to be the best on the ground, but being the best in the air was where Bradley would shine. So he would try to get a good time on the course and then focus on the rest of the week. 

Everyone groaned when they got to the course after lunch. It looked like a mud pit that was now baking in the sun, and Bradley thought he would rather run another ten miles than have to do this shit. 

"Let's work as a team to start," Phoenix told the guys. "I am going to need help getting over the second and third walls quickly." So they came up with a game plan to boost Nat over the walls since she was much shorter than they were. Then she would have no trouble crawling under the ropes that came next. Each of them had their strengths, and they would stick together when they could.

Both teams lined up, and when the whistle was blown, they were off. Bradley watched out of the corner of his eye to see that the Air Force team went with the same game plan. They were boosting you over the wall at the same time Bradley was practically throwing Phoenix over. Then he used all of his upper body strength to pull himself up and over. The next few walls were taller, and Coyote had to have Phoenix practically stand on his shoulders so the guys could use her body to pull themselves up. 

"Fuck!" Phoenix yelled. "You weigh a shit ton, Bradley!"

"I'm sorry," he gasped, pulling her over the wall with him once he had reached the top. Then he reached down to give Hangman a hand to grab. 

Navy was pulling ahead of Air Force, but Bradley was determined to keep the lead. Now everyone was starting to work more independently, and he could see that you were ahead of him going through the tires. Bradley forced himself to move, shoving his larger form under the ropes and diving into the mud when necessary. 

Coyote, Phoenix and Hangman were all close behind him, and he tried to encourage them along. But when it came to the mile run back to the starting line, Bradley went full force. He was gaining on you now, each of his strides counting for two of yours. Pumping his arms and gasping for air as his chest and throat burned, he caught up to you just as you crossed the line.

"A tie!" the officer with the stopwatch said. "And the best course time this year!"

Bradley watched you walk in a circle before you bent in half with your hands on your knees, trying to catch your breath. Much less gracefully, he plopped down into more mud and rolled onto his back, baking in the sun and sucking in air. 

When he opened his eyes a few seconds later, you were making your way toward him with your hand outstretched. Bradley gave you a high five and let you help him to his feet.

"Impressive, old man," you told him. Bradley rolled his eyes as he stood, massaging the stitch in his side. 

"Yeah, well..." he started, just as he saw his teammates in the distance. "Age comes with experience."

You narrowed your eyes. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Bradley just shrugged as he looked at you. "I'm just saying, it must be nice to win races because of age and stamina, but that has nothing to do with your flying."

Your eyes went wide and you took a step closer to him. "Listen up, sweetheart. I've worked my ass off to be the best. And you don't know anything about me or my experience. So why don't you stay in your own lane and watch me destroy you and everybody else." You were practically touching him now, seemingly just seething in your anger. 

Bradley's heart was pounding. You were covered in mud and yelling at him. And embarrassingly enough, he was kind of turned on. He didn't even mind you calling him old man. But now he felt a little bad about what he had said.

"Listen, I-"

But he was cut off by you planting your hand on his chest and pushing yourself away as your teammates and his all crossed the finish line in a large group. You raised your middle finger up behind your back and aimed it at him when you walked away.

"Shit," Bradley muttered. He hadn't meant to piss you off even more. Honestly, he liked you. You were smart and quick witted. Cute too. 

He was going to have to apologize when he had you alone again. Hopefully letting you call him old man for the rest of the week would help smooth over what he'd said. 

"We just barely beat their combined time," Coyote said, panting to catch his breath. 

Hangman was walking in circles chugging water while Phoenix patted Bradley on the shoulder. "I'm never letting you use me as a human rope again. That was painful," she said.

"I'm sorry, but at least we won this round," he told her. "We'll get up in the air tomorrow and kick their asses."

As everyone made their way back toward the locker rooms to get cleaned up before dinner, Bradley cut you off in front of the ladies' locker room door.

You planted both hands on your hips and looked up at him. "You lost, sweetheart? Mens' showers are that way." You nodded your head to the side where Coyote was disappearing through the door. You had a streak of dried mud running across your forehead, and your hair was an absolute mess. 

"No. Listen, I just wanted to apologize," he said, running his hand through his muddy hair. "I'm sure I came across as a bit of a sore loser when I insinuated that you lack experience in the air. You're right, I don't know anything about it. Sorry."

There was nobody else around as you closed the distance between your bodies and tipped your head up to keep your eyes on his. "Yesterday you called me incompetent. Today you called me inexperienced. What are you planning on calling me tomorrow?" you asked in a controlled voice, but your eyes were angry.

When Bradley didn't respond right away, you let your fingers rest on his abs before flattening your palm there. Slowly you dragged your hand up the front of his mud soaked shirt, teasing the hard planes of his body. Bradley didn't dare move as he watched your eyes which were focused on your own hand. He wanted to kiss you, but chances were you actually hated him and were just trying to get a rise out of him for your own entertainment. 

But when your hand traveled over his pecs and up around the scars on his neck, you stroked your thumb softly there. His pulse quickened as his dick throbbed. "Oh, so now you're quiet, old man? Gotta say, I like this version of you much better." 

Bradley didn't dare move as you pressed up onto your toes and kissed him hard, pushing your fingers up roughly into his messy hair. He wanted to turn you and push you up against the wall, press his hardening length against you and make you moan. 

But as soon as he had his hands on your hips, you pulled out of his grasp and slapped him lightly on the cheek. 

"Apology accepted. For now," you said, pointing at him as you turned to walk into the locker room. 

Bradley stood there for a moment in shock before he crept quietly into the men's room with a boner. 

-----------------------

Thanks for reading this one! It will be four parts total! And thanks for all of your help @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 2

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[somedaylazysomeday]

Noisy - Part Four

Despite your agreements, Viktor is being very loud... Again. You go to confront him about it.

Viktor x fem!reader

Rating: Explicit. Minors DNI.

Word Count: 5,500

Warnings: Frustration, concern, hints of growing intimacy, unprotected sex, creampie, feelings

Previous | Masterlist

---

You couldn’t sleep.

You turned to your side, away from the window. Maybe the faint glow from behind the curtains was what had kept you awake. Or maybe all the thoughts crowding your mind were on that side of the pillow, sneaking in through your ear until they could snarl and snap inside of your brain.

Another sleepless night was not what you needed. 

A moment later, you amended the thought. If there was going to be one night you couldn’t really rest, this wasn’t the worst night for it to happen. You didn’t have anywhere to be the next day and no real plans. You could sleep as late as you needed to recover what you were losing to your racing thoughts. 

With that realization, you gave in and let your mind whir rapidly as it performed a variety of calculations it apparently thought were necessary. 

The first - and accordingly most concerning - thought was about your impending departure from the Piltover Academy of Science, Technology, and Innovation. 

You had been a student at the Academy for almost a decade. Your undergraduate work had been completed on time. Graduate work had slowed you down slightly as you started taking more advanced courses that required more field work. And your doctoral program seemed to have stretched on for an eternity. That was mostly because the Academy’s work-study program had left you attending courses only half of your time. 

Even then, your main focus for the last semester had been on writing your dissertation. 

From everything you had learned about other schools, Piltover’s Academy was unique in the way dissertations were presented, especially in practical fields. Instead of a simple essay, Academy dissertations were written as a proposal. You were to identify a problem, hypothesize about causes and solutions, and create a plan to help alleviate the problem or treat those suffering from it.

When you were finished with your dissertation, you would submit it to your mentor, Professor Ukkud. Once she went through it with you and you completed any final changes, she would present it to the Council of Piltover. They would read it, discuss your proposed solutions, then give you a chance to answer their questions and defend your intended methodology. 

If you successfully defended your dissertation, you would gain a doctorate. You would also be approved a specified amount of Piltover’s money to put your proposal into action, backed by the Council. Doctors whose experiments and solutions helped people were often offered jobs in the government itself, working to improve the lives of Piltover citizens. 

Your identified problem - the pollution in the Undercity, particularly the fumes found in the Sump sector - was easily proven. The causes were of concern to Piltover. The solutions were simple and relatively cheap. It was, by all accounts, tailor-made for a successful dissertation defense.

Except that you had been advised to start over. 

Your meeting with Professor Ukkud that afternoon had been profoundly disappointing. It had been your first meeting with her since you had discussed concepts. The professor had left the Academy for several months as she delivered a beautiful boy. She and her wife had spent much of the following time bonding with their newborn son and, by the time she returned, your dissertation was almost complete. 

Which was why it was particularly heartbreaking that you had presented your lovingly-crafted work to Professor Ukkud only for her to sit in uncomfortable silence. She listened to your explanation, but pushed the dissertation back to you unread. When she finally spoke, it was with an expression of sympathy and a delicate sort of tone. 

“I understand your passion for this project and I think it would have a positive impact on the Undercity. However, I feel that there is a strong chance the Council will deny you the funds you’ve requested.” 

You had been aghast. The Council rarely refused funds, and when they did, it was often because the attached proposal had been subpar. In a few cases, they had denied funds and awarded the defender their degree anyway, but it had happened only twice that you could remember. 

It was considered slightly shameful to receive your degree with no accompanying funds. It was a sign that the Council thought there was no situation in which your special knowledge could play an role in improving Piltover.

“But… But this is important research…” you had protested, knowing it wouldn’t matter. “My solution is simple and cost-effective, and no one can argue the impact it would have on the lives of those living in the Undercity. Especially the ones who live in the Sump sector, but it could make a difference for people who live much further away.”

Professor Ukkud shook her head sadly. “I agree, and I believe there is a strong possibility that your proposal would improve lives across the Undercity and even along the border of Upper Piltover where the river is narrow.”

“Then I don’t understand the problem,” you’d said, openly frustrated. 

“Simply put: the Council will not divert funds toward a project that will mostly impact the Undercity.”

You had suspected as much as soon as Professor Ukkud suggested you change the topic of your dissertation, but it was startling to hear her say it so directly. Worse, you knew she was right. 

You wanted to rail against the unfairness of it all, but the prejudices of Upper Piltover ran deep. There was no other explanation for the poor conditions half the city lived in - and perhaps more, since censuses tended not to go well in the Undercity. 

And, even worse, you partially understood. The Undercity rebelled against Upper Piltover on a regular basis, and most of those rebellions were violent. Yes, they were rebelling against a lack of representation and the fact that the Council didn’t put any effort toward improving the Undercity, but you could imagine that the proud Piltover people would see helping them as rewarding the very violence they were hoping to stop. 

None of those thoughts had left you. Instead, you slumped and stared down at the stack of pages resting on the table. They represented literal months of your life. When you weren’t helping Ukkud in her classroom, you were researching or writing or editing or experimenting, all in the process of crafting the perfect dissertation. 

“What am I supposed to do, then?” The question had sounded more defeated than challenging. “I can’t rewrite it. The semester is ending soon.”

“I think your best option is to stay an extra semester,” Professor Ukkud opinioned, looking visibly relieved that you weren’t planning to argue with her about it. “You could try to create a different dissertation, but in the limited time… You would either end up with an inferior proposal or be too exhausted to defend it.”

You hadn’t had anything else to say, by then. What was the point? Instead, you thanked the professor for her guidance and left the classroom. You’d spent the rest of the afternoon sulking and mulling over your options. 

The way you saw it, you had two: spend an extra semester at the Academy to create another dissertation and proposal about an issue you weren’t as passionate about, or… 

Or present the dissertation you had already prepared. 

Professor Ukkud was right, you probably wouldn’t be funded. But you could leave here and go somewhere where you could make a difference. You had taken several grant-writing courses during your time at the Academy. It would be far more difficult to do things on your own. But wouldn’t it be worth it? 

You turned onto your back once more, eyeing the ceiling with disgust. Now that you had rehashed everything about the disappointing meeting and rethought about the difficult choice that faced you, you had hoped sleep would come. But you were just as awake as you had been before and you clearly weren’t going to make any important decisions that night. 

Sliiiiiide. Scrape. Scrape! BOOM.

Your initial jolt turned into you sitting bolt upright in bed as a tremendous noise came from the apartment above yours. You looked up at the ceiling, like you could see through it if you stared hard enough. 

When that didn't work, you started to lay back down, but paused. Viktor knew you didn't need to be awake early the next day and had no specific reason to stay quiet, but this was excessive even for him. 

Immediately, your mind started jumping to negative conclusions. What if Viktor had tripped? What if his cane had caught on something, leaving him tumbling to the floor? If had fallen badly enough to hurt himself, how would he call for help? Would anyone notice until the weekend ended? 

The last thing you wanted was to imply that he couldn't take care of himself, but it would be good to check on Viktor, right? He couldn't be offended if you were making sure he wasn't hurt. And if he was, you could always pretend you were upset with him for making so much noise. He didn't know you had already been awake…

You pulled on a sweatshirt over your pajamas and started the trek upstairs. You had been casually sleeping with Viktor for months by that point, but you didn't go up to his apartment as often as you had expected. 

And who could blame you? Not only did Viktor prefer to keep people away from the experiments that filled his apartment, but he also didn't have a bed. You liked to think you were fairly low-maintenance, but you did prefer not to have sex on the floor. Unless it you were in a particular mood. Or a hurry. Or- 

You pulled your thoughts back to your current mission. Viktor could be hurt, and you needed to make sure he wasn’t in pain and waiting to be found. 

The first obstacle was that you didn’t have a key to his apartment. It had never been necessary before and you were struck by the strangeness of that for the first time. Your relationship was strictly casual, but it would have made sense for you proximity to lead to more opportunities for hooking up. Including swapping apartment keys. 

And so you knocked, your taps on his door were firm with an edge of urgency. Even as you waited for a response, you planned: if you knocked again and there was no answer, you would break down the door. How you would accomplish that, you weren’t really sure. As you eyed the solid wood of the door, you wondered if you might be overestimating your own abilities. 

Fortunately, you and your poor shoulder were spared from seeing how you fared against the door when it opened and Viktor’s brown eyes peered out. “Yes?” 

“Are you okay?” you asked, a little nonplussed. 

“Of course,” he told you.

“What are you doing up here?” 

Viktor looked overly innocent, which was a good as a red flag in the current situation. “Nothing in particular. Why?” 

You squinted at him. “Well, I heard a really loud noise a few minutes ago. I thought you might have fallen and knocked yourself out.”

“Do you really think so little of my balance?” 

The dry question was met with a hard stare of your own. You had seen him trip over nothing, and if something impacted how his cane landed, he was virtually guaranteed to end up on the ground. 

Graciously, you decided not to bring up any of that. Instead, you said, “You’re out of breath. A little odd for someone claiming not to be doing anything in particular. And it’s really dark in there…” 

You tried to see around him and into the apartment, but Viktor leaned into your line of sight. “Seriously, did you knock over a lamp or something? It totally dark in there. Wait, not totally… Are those candles? I don’t think you’re allowed to have candles in the dorms.” 

Viktor sighed heavily, letting the door swing out from his grip. You took a moment to process his bare feet and rumpled hair before accepting his silent invitation and stepping past him into the apartment. As always, you almost struggled to believe that his apartment shared a layout with yours, since his was decorated so dramatically differently. 

His furniture was almost entirely missing, with the exception of a very old and well-worn recliner that he slept in. The rest of the space was taken up with various experiments. They had changed since the last time you had been there, but precise layouts of chemical, biological, and mysterious experiments still spread across every available surface. Each one was accompanied by a notebook containing neatly written notes. 

It took a moment for you to check, but you couldn’t see anything around the room that would have caused the amount of noise that had brought you upstairs in the first place. That was good, since it meant that Viktor probably wasn’t hurt and trying to hide it from you.

There was a bare circle on one of Viktor’s countertops, all the experiments carefully swept clear. In the middle of the circle was a cluster of candles, throwing warm light dancing around the room. 

“Well, at least you made sure nothing would catch on fire from your illegal candles,” you conceded.

Viktor came to stand beside you. “Well, nothing that I don’t want to be caught.” 

Your eyebrows raised without your permission as you gave him a sidelong look. “Are you lighting things on fire in your apartment? Need I remind you that I live downstairs and that the building is ancient? And flammable?”

“Besides,” he continued, ignoring you. “I think they set a mood quite nicely. Don’t you agree?” 

“What mood are you trying to set? Angsty serial killer, or are you going for-”

Viktor leaned close, the motion so sudden that you pulled backward. You would have thought it was just a rushed attempt at a kiss, but the way he was looking at you was anything but romantic. His amber eyes were studying your face like you were one of his experiments. You didn’t care for the feeling.

“Is something wrong?” he asked abruptly. 

The bluntness of the question threw you off, made you less able to create a believable story. “Not- Not really? Bad day. Then my upstairs neighbor keeps being noisy.” 

“Today was your meeting with Professor Ukkud, was it not?” he asked. It was a rhetorical question; Viktor had proven to have a near-eidetic memory when it came to the things you told him. “Did she have many critiques for your dissertation?” 

“Something like that,” you admitted. 

“Strange,” Viktor mused. “I thought it was rather brilliant.” 

Your eyes snapped to his. Viktor was smiling slightly, but he seemed sincere. He had read your dissertation. 

When you had asked him to the first time - claiming that you needed another set of eyes on it - he had refused. His explanation was that his ties to the Undercity were too strong, that he wouldn’t be able to look at your proposal with any objectivity. That had seemed like a lie to you, but you hadn’t pushed. A boundary was a boundary, even if he wasn’t giving you the real reason behind it. 

“You… you read my dissertation?” you stammered. 

“Of course,” he told you. “It’s you. How could I no-? Unh!”

You felt a little guilty about the way that his throat had collided with the top of your shoulder as you pulled him into a hug, but you couldn’t stop yourself from gripping him with your full strength. 

It was only when he stroked a hand down your back, hushing you gently, that you realized you were crying. The entire story spilled from you then. Every detail about Professor Ukkud’s recommendation for rewriting, your crushing disappointment, and the nagging fear that she was right and that to present before the Council would be to set yourself up for failure.

Viktor held you close, making appropriate noises as the stream of words pouring from you finally slowed, then stopped. “Do you want to talk it over? Consider your options?” 

“No,” you refused, smiling tearfully at him. “I feel better just telling you about it. But I could really use a distraction. That is, if you don’t mind? I know I’m all gross…”

Viktor’s soft lips halted your apologies and explanations. You still felt as gross as you had claimed to be, but you sank eagerly into the kiss. It wasn’t often that you let Viktor lead - normally, you were too excited for that - but you gladly followed the soothing motions of his mouth against yours.

“We do not have to-” he started when you pulled back to breathe. 

“No, but I really, really want to,” you admitted openly. 

“In that case…” Viktor stepped away. You immediately felt the loss of his warm body against his, but he was holding a hand out to you. When you took it, he started leading the way to his bedroom. 

It took until you were at the doorway to remember why this was a bad idea. You tugged slightly against his grip. “I know I said I want a distraction, but I’d rather not get eaten by one of your plants, Viktor. That’s not exactly what I’m looking for right now.” 

“Do not worry,” he assured you, pushing the door open. “I removed them last week.”

“...Why?” 

He laughed openly at you. “You’re too young to be so skeptical.” 

And then he stepped through the door, pulling you in behind him before you could continue protesting. 

To your surprise, Viktor had been telling the truth. The plants that had dominated most of the bedroom the last time you’d been inside were gone, as were the colorful lights that had illuminated them. He had even removed the protective tape from the light switch. 

Even without turning on the notoriously harsh overhead lights, you could see Viktor’s bedroom clearly enough for your mouth to fall open. “Is that..?”

“Yes, it is,” Viktor confirmed, smiling more broadly than you had ever seen. 

You started forward, but paused. “I’m almost afraid to touch it. Is this a trick? A mirage? An optical illusion?” 

Viktor only chuckled at you, gently shaking his head. You moved closer despite yourself, extending a hand until your fingers rested against the soft, sheet-covered surface of a real, tangible bed.

“It’s real,” you reported, awe heavy in your tone. 

Viktor rolled his eyes, but he was still smiling. “I know, I moved it in here today.” 

You rounded on him. “Is that what was making all of the noise? You shouldn’t have put it together yourself, Viktor. I would have been happy to help you.” 

“I didn’t build the frame myself,” he said dryly. “I know my limits. I had some members of the housing administration bring the pieces and assemble everything for me this afternoon.” 

“Then what were you doing that made so much noise?” you asked. “And how did the housing administration not freak out when they saw your collection of experiments? You have to be doing irreparable damage to the interior of this place.”

Viktor looked offended. “I know how to perform an experiment with minimal risk to the environment, myself, and others. And did it not occur to you that I could be trying to surprise you?” 

“Honestly, the idea of you moving the plants was surprising enough,” you admitted. “But where are they? Are they okay?” 

“They are fine.” You relaxed at the answer. Viktor’s plants may have tried to eat you, but that didn’t mean you wanted to think about them rotting somewhere. “The experiments were a success, so I had the plants moved into the lab for further testing and eventual propagation.” 

You nodded, impressed despite yourself. Viktor’s efforts to grow plants using various colors of light had seemed ridiculous and frivolous when you’d first learned about them, but he had eventually told you that there were implications for growing them in the Undercity. 

“Now,” Viktor said lowly, taking a step closer to you, “Are discussions about my botanical experiments distraction enough for you?” 

You thought about it for a moment, but decided that, no, it wasn’t. “I think I need a distraction that’s a little more… hands-on.”

As you said the last, you grabbed Viktor’s spare hand, placing it on the curve of your hip. The warm weight of it made you tense with anticipation even as Viktor rolled his eyes. “You are impossible.” 

“Flatterer,” you accused, leaning in for another kiss. Viktor dropped his feigned grumpiness immediately to seize the offer of your lips. Eagerly, you lost yourself in his embrace.

By the time you remembered that you were a physical being in a physical environment, you had changed positions entirely. You were sitting now, making good use of Viktor’s new bed. He was in front of you, cupping your cheek with a careful reverence that made you feel distinctly melty. 

His graceful fingers traced up and down the stretched-out collar of your sweatshirt. “Tell me you are not wearing anything complicated under this.” 

You shook your head, grinning. “No, you’re still the king of complicated clothing.” 

Viktor gave you surprisingly wicked smile. “I planned ahead.” 

And then you watched, fascinated, as he unbuttoned the few buttons on his vest. With it gone, you found that his shirt was held together only by the buttons that would show above and below the vest itself. With three more buttons undone, Viktor was bare from the waist up, and looking very proud of himself for it. 

The laugh that burst from you was loud and joyful. That moment of silliness from Viktor had done more to lift your mood than hours of ruminating had. “You’re ridiculous.” 

“Flatterer,” he returned. “You are also falling behind in this particular race.”

Your eyebrows shot upward. That was a challenge you had no intention of letting stand. You stripped off your sweatshirt in a single motion and - luckily enough - static friction pulled your sleep shirt off at the same time.

You gave Viktor a triumphant look, then both of you were fumbling to remove your own pants. Viktor had buttons to deal with while you did not, but you were stymied by the shoes you had put on to climb the stairs. He beat you, but only by a margin of seconds. You cut off any intended boasting with a deep kiss. And since you were already there, you straddled his thighs at the same time. 

Viktor’s hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you back slightly. “No, I’m going to be on top this time.” 

For the first time in a while, you felt a little uncertain. “Is that a good idea? Your leg-”

“-Will be fine,” he told you firmly. “It has improved with all the exercise it has gotten lately. Nothing long-term, but I can do this. Let me do this?”

The soft entreaty, more than anything else he could have said, convinced you. You gave a shallow nod and Viktor set to work. He guided you down to the mattress - and you were privately disappointed that the sheets didn’t have time to smell like him yet - and settled on top of you. 

The weight of him was solid between your thighs, even with him bracing a hand against the bed’s surface. You were always mildly surprised at Viktor’s size - his height and narrow build often made him appear far more slender than he truly was. 

You did have admit that you liked the position for how close everything was. When you were on top, you often felt further away from him than you wanted to be. But with Viktor taking the lead, his free hand roamed your body as both of your hands did the same to him. He alternated between kissing you and nosing along your skin while you did your best to suck tiny bruises into every stretch of his neck and jaw that you could reach. 

After a span that seemed both endless and impossibly short, Viktor pulled away with a groan. “I am uncertain how much longer I can wait to be inside of you.” 

Everything between your legs gave an eager pulse, your muscles helpfully lifting the cradle of your hips to press yourself more firmly against him. The length of him slipped easily between your folds, pressing against you. 

You gave a stuttered breath at the contact - he wasn’t entering you, but the angle of him left his head brushing firmly against your clit and the sensations were dazzling. Viktor must have been in a similar frame of mind, because he gave another groan. This one was hoarse, verging on desperate, and you throbbed. 

“Please,” you asked, lifting your hips once more. 

It took a fumbling moment for Viktor to reposition the head of himself against your entrance, but he made up for lost time by sliding home the instant he was in place.

The noise you made was inarticulate and loud, and you were grateful that the only apartment connected to Viktor’s was your own empty one. Viktor was silent, but when you remembered to open your eyes, you found that his had fluttered shut. There was a wrinkle of concentration between his dark brows, but something about their upward tilt gave him a hint of beatific supplication. He looked like he was praying. 

He drew in a breath - a long, shaking inhale - and opened those gorgeous eyes. 

“You are never anything less than incredible.” His fervent, matter-of-fact delivery was sincere enough that you believed him. It wasn’t enough to remove the soreness of the day from your heart, but it certainly didn’t hurt. 

But you were neighbors with benefits, not a couple. This level of emotion seemed taboo, somehow forbidden for two people in a casual relationship. You pushed your response aside, teasing, “Are you talking about me or my pussy?”

“You.”

The only way to hide your response to the affirmation would be to close your eyes, and that was a sacrifice you weren’t willing to make. So instead, you leaned up to give him a kiss, hoping to convey some sense of what he meant to you. You couldn’t be sure what came through, but at least he began moving inside of you. 

Viktor felt exquisite inside of you and it was hard to concentration on anything other than the pressure he put on your g-spot every time he moved into or out of you. But in the quiet spaces in his rhythm, you gathered yourself enough to watch him. Not only was watching Viktor one of your great joys in life, you were also searching for any signs that this position was hurting or straining him.

True to his claims, it didn’t seem to be. Viktor’s pace was eager, nothing but intense focus on his face. The noises he made didn’t sound pained, either, and you let yourself relax into enjoying the entire experience. 

Your finger traced along the lean muscle of Viktor’s chest, danced across his ticklish ribs, and met briefly behind his back. The feeling of his muscles tightening and releasing as he drove into you and pulled back out was intoxicating. It also made you aware of the way your hips were surging up to meet his thrusts, turning every stroke into a earth-shattering collision. 

When your timing matched up with Viktor’s, it felt like he was pushing his way up into your stomach. The depth of it was a little strange, but it didn’t hurt. Far from it, actually. You jerked so hard that Viktor paused. 

“Am I hurting you?” 

“No,” you told him, adding, “If you stop, I’m going to hurt you.”

He laughed, and the desperate need pulled away long enough for you to see the humor in it. “It feels wonderful, Viktor. Please keep going.” 

Viktor took you at your word and started thrusting into you even harder than before, but much faster. The pleasure came roaring back with a vengeance. 

In moments, you were clutching at Viktor’s shoulders both to keep yourself from being pushed up the bed and in an effort to keep yourself grounded. This was overwhelming, but in a way that left you ready for more even while you were still experiencing it. This was something addictive, you realized, but you couldn’t even begin to worry about that. 

Especially when your body started to tighten around Viktor’s.

“Close.” 

Your panted warning made Viktor nod. He dropped his pelvis a fraction of an inch, making his occasional brushes against your clit far more often and intense. Seemingly instantly, that contact pushed you unceremoniously over the edge. 

Viktor managed to keep his pace even with your body locking down around him. You shook and panted and gasped - and made some sounds that were far more dramatic - as he worked his way closer to his own orgasm. 

When you drifted back down to earth, you were content to watch Viktor work above you. He was close, you could see it in the way his arms trembled, the drop of sweat from his temple tracing down over jutting cheekbones.

“Close,” he hissed, pushing into you so hard that it sent a shockwave through your body. 

You smiled at that. You had asked him once why he warned you when you had already come. He had simply shrugged and told you, “It seems the polite thing to do.” It was so perfectly Viktor that you had laughed then. It still made you smile. 

Viktor plunged deep inside of you, giving a low and hastily-stifled groan as he came. He was particularly beautiful in the throes of pleasure, you noted. His pale skin was slightly flushed with exertion, lips swollen and red from kissing you. When his head tipped back, you could admire the marks you had scattered across his neck. His eyes were closed, but you could picture the stunning shade of amber they would be when they glowed with pleasure.

When he was finished, Viktor’s arms were shaking badly enough that you were worried, but he managed to lower himself beside you rather than collapsing. You wouldn’t have minded that so much, but Viktor’s limbs were so long and angular that collisions tended to leave you with large, unfun bruises the next day. 

“Are you okay?” Viktor asked. 

You pulled your attention back to the moment. “Yes, of course. Why?” 

“You are usually talking by now,” he told you. His eyes were still closed, but a tiny smile played around the fullness of his lips. 

With a hum, you said, “Good point. Maybe we should talk about all of this.”

Viktor’s eyes opened at that. He looked wary. “What do you mean?” 

“I mean…” You sat up slightly, wincing at the way his cum started trickling out of you. But you pressed your legs together, ignoring the sensation in favor of counting on your fingers. “The candles, the bed, the mysterious noise with no apparent cause…”

“That is what would make a noise mysterious,” Viktor agreed, an edge of sarcasm in his accented voice. 

“Shush. Anyway, I’m working on a theory…” You paused to recheck your work, but arrived at exactly the same conclusion you had come to the first time. “Were you trying to lure me up here for some reason?” 

“‘Lure’ is an ugly word.” 

“That’s not a real answer,” you informed him. “Were you planning something? Something I derailed by bursting into tears before you could get to it?” 

“It wasn’t important,” he told you. “Not by comparison.” 

His closer hand was resting against the mattress, between his face and yours. You laced your fingers with his, and he returned your smile. How could you be sad when there was magic like this in the world?

“Will you tell me what it was?” you requested softly. “Please?”

Viktor’s smile turned a little sickly and he swallowed, but nodded. “I wanted to- Well, I still want to… Ask- If you might want something more serious.”

“With you?” you checked. 

Now looking distinctly queasy, Viktor nodded again. “With me.” 

You beamed, feeling inexplicably close to tears once more. “I would like that a lot, Viktor.”

“You-?” Viktor’s eyes were wide, even as he feigned a casual attitude. “You would. Very well. Then I believe we should enter into a romantic relationship together.” 

“I believe the same,” you said, giving him your best grave expression. It wasn’t particularly solemn, not with the way you had been grinning a moment before, but it was enough to make Viktor roll his eyes as he tried not to smile. “When should we begin?”

“In my opinion,” Viktor said carefully, “we already have.” 

“Fair point,” you conceded, squeezing his hand as you leaned in for another kiss.

---

Author's Note - As I've said on a few different fics I've posted this year, this is my last Fanfic February! The tolls of writing over 100,000 words to post all in one month is pretty high, especially when I have so many other ongoing projects.

I have some additional ideas for this story and I might continue it when I've caught up on the other works I've been ignoring. For now, I think this is a good pause point.

Thank you for reading!