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#because i make it my purpose to annoy men
chaosandcrimes · 2 years
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my best friend made the mistake of asking how spending/saving habits would change if one got suddenly rich and was stuck listening to my rant on routines and sustainability that somehow ended up dipping into some econ stuff then ended with the issue of the idea that women are inherently good with financially managing a household in our society yet terrible at money management when single.
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raviscin · 3 months
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Movie take: tbh Fight Club's social commentary got kinda lost on me when apparantly every single man on the planet was 100% on board with doing every single thing Tyler told them to because at that point it feels less like "oh my sigma we literally live in a society so true" and more like flat out cosmic horror
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sapphic-luthor · 1 year
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i am really on the verge of identifying as a lesbian because i feel like that label really does fit me but what’s confusing me is that there is one fictional tv show character who’s a man who is probably the only man i’ll ever Like but it does really confuse me as to why i feel like i may find him attractive but never any man irl
would just like to generally casually direct you to the lesbian masterdoc just in case you were looking for a bit of a read this lovely friday eve
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inkskinned · 1 year
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what is with men being mad any time a woman raises her voice where did that even come from. someone posted a video of a small electrical explosion, and the top comment was of course the woman screams. the second comment is women try not to scream challenge, level impossible. i had to go back and watch the video again. there is, somewhat fainty, a little gasp emitted off-camera, more of a yelp than a scream. it is mostly lost in the crack of the explosion. afterwards, you hear her voice, shaken, say, are you okay?
i am helping one of my friends train her voice pitch lower, because she wants to be taken seriously at work. she and i do each other's nails and talk about gender roles; and how - due to our appearance - neither of us have ever been able to be "hysterical" in public. we both appear young and sweet and feminine. she is cisgender, and cannot use her natural voice in her profession because people keep saying she appears to be "vapid". we both try to figure out if our purposeful voice lowering is technically sexist. is it promoting something when you are a victim to it?
a storm almost sends a pole through a car window. in the dashcam, you can hear the woman passenger say her partner's name twice, crying out in alarm. she sounds terrified. in the comments, she is lambasted for her lack of calm. how is that even fucking helping?
in high school, i taught myself to have a lower voice. i had been recorded when i was genuinely (and righteously) upset; and i hated how my voice sounded on the phone speakers when it was played back. i was defending my mom, and my voice cracked with emotion. it meant i was no longer winning the argument: i was just shrieking about it.
girls meet each other after a long summer and let out a little joyful scream. this usually stops around 12-14, because people will not tolerate this display of affection (as it has the effect of being passingly annoying). something about the fact that little girls can't ever even be annoying. we are trained to examine each part of our lives (even joy) for anything that could make us upsetting and disgusting. they act like teenage girls are breaking into houses and shrieking you awake at 3 in the morning. speaking as a public school educator: trust me, it's not that bad, you can just roll your eyes and move on. it does not compare to the ways boys end up being annoying: slurs in graffiti, purposefully mocking your body, following you after you said no. you know, just boy things.
there's another video of a man who is not allowed to yell in the house, so he snaps his fingers when he's excited about soccer. the comments are full of angry men, talking about how their brother is unfairly caged. let him express himself and this is terrible to do to someone. eventually the couple has to address it in a second video: they are married with a newborn baby. he was trying not to wake the infant up. there is no comment on the fact women are not allowed to yell indoors. or the fact that it could have been really alarming or triggering for his wife. sometimes i wonder if straight men even like women, if they even enjoy being in relationships with them.
for the longest time, i hated roller coasters because it always felt inappropriate and uncomfortable for me to scream. one of my friends called me on it, said it was unusual i'm so unwilling. i had to go to my therapist about it. i don't like to scream because i was not raised in a safe situation, and raising my voice would have brought unsafe attention towards me. even when i am supposed to scream, it feels shameful, guilty. i was not treated kindly, so i lack a basic form of self-protection. this is not a natural response. it is not good that in a situation of high adrenaline - i shut up about it.
something very bad is happening, i think. in between all the beauty standards and the stuff i've already discussed - this one feels new and cruel in a way i can't quite express. yes, it's scary and silencing. but there's something about how direct it is - that so many men agree with the sentiment that women should never yell, even in an emergency - it feels different.
is the word shriek gendered automatically? how about shrill or screech? in self defense class, one of the first things they tell you is to yell, as loud and as shrilly as you can. they say it will feel rude. most women will not do this. you need to practice overcoming the social pressure and just scream.
most women do not cry out, even when it's bad. we do not report it. we walk faster. we do not make a scene. what would be the point of doing anything else? no matter what we do, we don't get taken seriously. it is a joke to them. an instagram caption punchline. we have to present ourselves as silent, beautiful, captivating - "valuable."
a woman is outside watching her kids when someone throws a firecracker at them. she screams and runs towards her children. in the comments, grown men flock together in the thousands: god. women are so annoying.
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roturo · 9 months
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-; ੈ♡˳ MINISKIRT
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JJK MEN REACTING TO YOU TEASING THEM WITH A MINISKIRT! ★༉‧₊˚✧
(gojo satoru, geto suguru, choso kamo, nanami kento)
contents: smut, nsfw, sub behavior, PRAISE, miniskirts, unprotected sex, cunnilingus, whimpering, overstimulation, edging, jealousy, sub-space, fluff, possesive behavior, all of them being DOWN for you, and lovesick for you.
A/N: wrote this while watching the office and drunk so npr, and proabably took so long to write because of this.
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gojo satoru
He knows what you’re trying. That’s why he doesn’t give in. And it’s much more difficult when that tiny miniskirt is the color of his eyes, matching perfectly with a top as small as your skirt of his hair color.
Bending over the table just so he could see the matching panties while you ‘try to have a closer look to what Nanami is showing you’ – And he doesn’t know what angers him more, the fact you’re doing this to annoy him and probably other people behind you are watching your panties which he’s trying to cover with his body, or the fact Nanami is more likely watching your tits through that tiny top you’re wearing right now. 
He pinches the back of your thigh, making you squeak and sit again as a reaction– looking to your side finding Satoru giving you a glare easily expressing ‘stop what you´re doing’ – and maybe that’s what makes you more eager to tease him now that you’re feeling the wetness coming out of you.
And you know he’s suffering right now. Not only because he’s jealous, but because you’re giving a small piece to someone else of what he supposed it was his.
“Nngh- please baby, i’m sorry- but I couldn’t stand him watching how precious you looked” His cries went to deaf ears as you rode him, edging him for the third? fourth? time. He had some ‘childish’ (that’s what you called it) outburst because he couldn’t stand you teasing him like that, and suddenly after pinching your thigh moved you towards his lap after you sat so you could feel his raging erection and broke Nanami’s chair with the cursed energy he couldn’t control coming out of his body. Something completely new for him.
“Please princess, it was just- You’re so beautiful I can’t let anyone to- I… I just can’t get enough of you.” He ghosted his lips with yours, trying to kiss them but you wouldn’t let him. You were close to another orgasm too, he was yearning for your touch, begging to whatever god stronger than him so you could give him permission to cum.
Who would’ve thought, huh? 
If Mahito, Sukuna or any of those fuckers watched him lose control to a girl they woulc’ve laughed at his face, but if they experienced how good it was to be inside of you, feeling your liquids coat him and his pelvis while they come out of you— even though you don’t let him cum, they would’ve understand. 
But he won’t let them get even 2 meters near you.
You started kissing his neck, marks that will be very prominent in just some hours, his whimpers bringing you to heaven even with how slow you rode him, just one thrust and he swears he could cum– overstimulation taking the best of him, you just pecked his lips one time and did as what he imagined and failed to keep it in.
“Aw baby, you ruined it! Why couldn’t you wait for me? Wanted to cum so badly? It’s okay, but cum again, okay? Be my good boy and make me cum again mhm?”
geto suguru
Are you doing this on purpose? Or you don't really notice? He swears people could see his raging erection from 10 meters afar, quirks of having a big cock, i guess.
And it’s so fucking embarrasing trying to hide it with the shopping bags you gave him to carry, not only he looked in an awkward position while walking, but the friction– and having you infront of him walking with that mini skirt, would make everyone crazy.
He swears he could just cum while walking and watching your hips move and tease him with your body. 
But you just were clueless. Getting excited to find the store you were looking for and do small jumps which had him rolling his eyes to conceal his need for you.
And he was getting needy. Spraying kisses all over your neck when he back-hugged you, he was making it obvious now! Rubbing himself on you, he needed it.
When you finally arrived home, he couldn’t stand it anymore, throwing away the bags somewhere in the kitchen carrying you– having to steady yourself by grabbing what you could from his back and not fall face into the floor while your legs were hanging on his front.
He carried you all the way into your bedroom and dropped you down softly on your bed while he plastered kisses all over your thighs mumbling about how much he missed being between your thighs and how you’ve been playing games with him this entire day.
You were suddenly overcome with excitement. Your clit throbbed and you desperately needed release. Your breath hitched in anticipation. All you could think about was letting Geto finally give you what you’ve been planning this whole day. 
“You’re so perfect. So perfect f´me– and all you been doin’ this day was tease me with that tiny skirt of yours baby- had to control myself to not go crazy over ya’”
At times like this, where Geto is kneeling right in front of you with his face buried in the middle of your legs, you are grateful that you lived alone. Because it means you don’t have to hold back your moans when Geto swipes his tongue on your clit. You don’t have to hold back as he roams his tongue around your entrance.  You know you genuinely lost it when he wrapped his lips around your bud, giving it a hard suckle that made your hips bucked. Out of instinct, your hand went to his hair. Gripping around the strand of it just to push his head closer to your cunt, letting the tip of his nose pressed against it. 
He inhaled, he fucking inhaled to let your scent filled his nose as if his tongue isn’t enough to make you feel stars.  Soon enough, you are on your knees, with your face buried on your pillow, tears pooling around your teardox as Geto has his mouth back to your pussy. His tongue moves in and out your hole to build up your orgasm. 
“What happened to my teasing girl mhm?”
choso kamo
Poor him. How did he end up in this situation? He swears all he did was give a small peek through your skirt because how couldn’t he?!
You were bending in front of him! And you’re even meaner because you know he has a crush for you since….ever. Kinda embarrassing to be honest. Because he acts like a kid having a crush, even worse, like when a little kid had a crush on their old brothers/sister friends… 
But. He won't lie he loves when you punish him like this. Because you praise him for being such dork for you. 
"It's okay, baby, you're doing so well for me right now," you lean down and place small kisses on his tear-stained cheeks, his red nose with his black mark and his eyelids eliciting a broken sob from him, "Think you can handle a little while longer, puppy?"
And he’s not thinking very clearly right now– Not when you’re pumping his cock in that tempo that has him seeing stars and crying out loud for you.
“yesyesyesy princess– oh my god- oh my fucking god… i´m sosososoooo lucky to be here with you baby, I love you soo much, i’m so, fuck, nngh!”
He was coming for a fifth? six? time right now. He swears he heard something about you telling him you won’t stop jacking him off until he cums dry. 
Choso looked at you, sniffing and wrapping his hand around yours, "But I want to fuck you now..." He mumbled barely audible to you, and you had to close your eyes and take a deep breath or you would've done what he told you to.
And he’s fucking excited for that. To fucking lose his mind and body to you. To dump all his cum wherever and whenever you wanted.
nanami kento
This little fucking pervert! He acts like this ‘oh so mature guy’ when he’s just as down for you as you are for him. He tried not to fall for you once he saw you for the first time in a mission both of you coincidentally crashed into. Being from another part of the world and suddenly connecting through these annoying curses.
But what annoyed him the most was how ‘inappropriate’ you are while working. Wearing those miniskirts of different colors for work. For work!
How is he supposed to focus? How is he supposed to train? Not when you’re moving your legs with that skirt that barely covers your butt and he easily sees the figure of it and your lips begging to be released to be tasted. By him. 
And you finally have him where you wanted, right between your legs. 
Your moans echo inside your bedroom, and maybe tomorrow you will have your neighbor file a noise complaint to you, but you didn’t mind. To have Kento’s attention only to you worth everything. 
At first, Kento wasn't the biggest fan of the size difference between you two, he felt almost too big compared to you.
Well, that was before he knew how good could fuck your needy cunt.
You were just barely holding onto his shoulders, leaving scratch marks that he would not even bother covering up, holding you with ease against the wall. "That's right, bunny, say my name and mark me, let everyone know I'm all yours, let them hear how good I fuck you," Kento whined and clung to you, feeling his cock pumping in and out of your small body, tilting his head forward to look down at the connection between your bodies.
The obvious outline of his length on your lower belly made him roll his eyes to the back of his head, your trembling legs wrapping around his hips, keeping his cock buried deep inside your pulsing pussy, feeling it wanting to milk every drop of his cum.
"Fuck me, more... I need more of your cock kento, please~!"
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maxtermind · 1 month
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texting the f1 men about the fatass hickeys they left on us from the night before
f1 drivers reacting to the hickeys they left on you
★ : feat :: max verstappen, charles leclerc, carlos sainz, lando norris, oscar piastri, lewis hamilton, george russell, alex albon
( misc. masterlist \ main masterlist \ drop a request )
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⤷.>ᗜ<.MAX VERSTAPPEN !
max loves you the most in the world or so he thinks. what he really loves the most is how he teases you tease you, and this time is no different.
when you point out the giant hickey and whine, he smirks, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “oops, my bad,” your boyfriend says with a shrug, there’s nothing apologetic about his tone and it baffles you just how smug he is being.
you narrow your eyes at him, knowing full well he did it on purpose. you stand up before pointing a finger at him and he immediately speaks before you can.
“or maybe it was my plan all along,” he adds quickly, his smirk widening though he tries to make it go away. you huff in mock frustration, again before you can retort, he pulls you into his lap, kissing you softly.
“i'm putting you on ban,” you mutter softly against his lips, trying to fake being mad. “you can try,” max murmurs back, his hands gently tracing the outline of the hickey he left.
you sigh and shake your head as you watch your boyfriend admiring the marks he left on you.
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⤷.>ᗜ<.CHARLES LECLERC !
charles can’t help the grin that spreads across his face when you mention the hickey, his eyes lighting up with a mix of pride and mischief. that pisses you off majorly.
“looks like my most precious masterpiece,” he says proudly, tilting his head while he gently holds your chin to admire the mark he left as if it were a work of art.
“i should’ve signed it.” you give him a playful shove, but he just laughs, clearly pleased with himself. “let's sign it.”
“you’re absolutely ridiculous,” you say, trying to sound annoyed, but the way he’s looking at you with such adoration makes it impossible to stay mad. the butterflies in your stomach going losing their minds along with you.
“ridiculously in love with you,” charles counters, his voice softening as he pulls you into his arms. a snort leaves you before you give in and hug him back.
your boyfriend presses a gentle kiss to the hickey, his lips lingering there as if to seal his claim. “and i’m not sorry about it,” he adds with a grin, making you roll your eyes but unable to hide the smile that’s tugging at your lips.
charles has a way of making even the most exasperating things feel like a sweet gesture of love, and this is no exception. not that you were too mad to begin with.
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⤷.>ᗜ<.CARLOS SAINZ !
carlos raises an eyebrow when you mention the size of the hickey, a smile slowly spreading across his face. “that’s because everything i do is larger than life, baby,” he says confidently, leaning back with a satisfied grin.
you huff , crossing your arms over your chest. “more like larger than necessary,” you quip back, trying to sound annoyed, but his confidence is infectious.
he chuckles, reaching out to pull you into his lap with ease. “necessary? i think you mean legendary,” he corrects, his voice low and teasing as he nuzzles your neck, brushing his lips against the hickey he left.
you’re about to protest, but the way his hands hold you so securely and his lips trace gentle patterns on your skin makes it hard to stay mad.
“just admit it,” he whispers against your ear and the tingles hit you like a punch to your stomach. “you still want more.” you hold eye contact, opening your lips to tell him just how less you want when he suddenly switches the position.
a yelp leaves your mouth instead as he towers over you,“you were saying something, baby?” but as he rubs your skin under your shirt, it feels too good to just end it so you say nothing as you just stare at your boyfriend before you squeeze him back and he knows he’s won.
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⤷.>ᗜ<.LANDO NORRIS !
lando’s grin could probably blind anyone cause of how it shines through as soon as you mention the hickey. his eyes light up with mischief, and he leans in closer to inspect the mark with an exaggerated look of admiration, lips pursued and hand to his chin.
“looks like i’ve marked my territory well,” he teases with a straight face, running his fingers gently over the spot and you shove him away. knowing your neck and cheeks were red enough to give away what you were really feeling.
but the way his grin widens tells you he knows exactly how you’re secretly enjoying it and probably hat is going to happen next. he tilts your chin up, his voice dropping to a lower, more sincere tone.
“now everyone knows you’re taken,” he says, before sucking a bit atop the hickey he left behind, sending shivers down your spine though you try to keep your restrain up.
“by a vampire?” you snap and instantly gulp, gaze softening as you watch your boyfriend's head being pulled back as he laughs. your hands shake gently as you hold his head and pull it towards yours. lando kisses you back right then, smirking a bit against your lips.
he pulls back just enough to look into your eyes, his playful grin softening into something more affectionate. “if that's what it takes to keep you.”
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⤷.>ᗜ<.OSCAR PIASTRI !
oscar’s eyes widen in surprise when you tell him about the hickey, he pockets his phone as he walks over to you. you snicker because honestly, it's hard to catch your boyfriend off guard usually.
“what? where? from me?” he stammers, his face blanches. clearly panicking. you can’t help but giggle out at his bewilderment, watching as he tries to piece together how he could’ve left such a mark without realizing it.
“do i need to draw you a map?” you tease, but he’s already reaching for his phone, attempting to find a hack so it could get covered up. you gently stop him, still chuckling at his flustered state.
“it’s not that serious,” you assure him, but he still looks like he’s trying to figure out how he really feels about doing this to you on a day he knows you're going out with your boyfriends. your two steps ahead though and kissing him when you watch him lost in his head.
finally, he lets out a soft laugh, shaking his head at himself. “i guess i got a bit carried away,” oscar admits sheepishly, his cheeks tinged with a hint of pink.
he pulls you into a hug, pressing a soft kiss to the spot he marked. “at least no boy would dare to approach you,” he adds with a grin that makes your heart stop.
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⤷.>ᗜ<.LEWIS HAMILTON !
lewis’s face immediately softens when you show him the hickey, his eyes filling with concern and a touch of guilt. “oh no, i’m so sorry, love,” he murmurs, his fingers brushing lightly over the mark as if he could somehow undo it with just a touch.
“i didn’t mean to get carried away.” you smile at his genuine remorse, gently cupping his cheek and pulling him closer. “it’s okay, lewis, it’s not the end of the world,” you reassure him, but he still looks like he’s beating himself up over it.
“i just want to make sure i’m always treating you right,” he says softly, his voice laced with sincerity. he presses a kiss to your forehead, lingering there for a moment.
“of course you are,” you whisper before lightly biting your lip. “especially when you take me like you did last night.”
“next time, i’ll be more careful… unless, of course, you don't want me to,” he adds with a teasing grin, catching up to how you were feeling about the situation.
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⤷.>ᗜ<.GEORGE RUSSELL !
it was almost comical how george freezes when you mention the hickey, his eyes darting to yours with a mixture of surprise and worry. “you could say it was uh… a mosquito?” he tries, his voice shaky and uncertain.
you burst out laughing, and his tense expression softens, though he still looks a bit worried about your reaction. “okay, fine, i know that won't work,” your boyfriend admits, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, clearly unsure of how you’re feeling about it.
“but i’ll buy you a scarf or something to cover it up!” he quickly offers, his voice tinged with nervousness. you shake your head, still smiling as you step closer to him. “it’s okay, george, i don’t mind,” you say, wrapping your arms around his waist.
he lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding and pulls you into a tight hug, his face nuzzling into your hair. “you sure? i’ll still get you the scarf,” he mumbles against your hair, making you giggle.
“wonder what you'll do after i will mark you before some race weekend.” you tease, and he chuckles softly, finally relaxing.
though his body stiffs again when he gets a text n the group chat with your friends of how they are all changing his contact name to: y/n's pet mosquito.
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⤷.>ᗜ<.ALEX ALBON !
alex’s blinks at you in surprise when you mention the hickey, tilting his head as if he’s not quite sure he heard you right. you soon realise that he's just acting when he opens his mouth.
“you’re welcome! that one’s on the house,” your boyfriend announces cheekily, clearly proud of the mark he left. you raise an eyebrow, already knowing where this conversation is headed.
“but the next one will cost you a kiss,” he adds, winking at you with a teasing glint in his eyes. you shake your head, pretending to be annoyed, but the smile threatening to break through gives you away.
“that’s not how this works!” you protest, but he just shrugs, pulling you into his arms with that effortless charm of his. “with me, it does,” he murmurs, his voice dropping to a low, flirtatious tone as he leans in to kiss you.
“my love bites don't come for free.” alex mutters, laughing loudly at his own joke. “more like a love chomp.” you drawl, smiling tightly when you watch his brows furrow.
alex just settles to kissing you again to shut you up. his lips soft against yours, and you find yourself melting into it, any thoughts of the hickey long forgotten.
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©maxtermind // do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platforms.
★ : a/n :: i'm aware that this was a text request but i wanted to write some fluff for a change, sorryyy🥲 new format lmk how you like it :3 feedback and reblogs are appreciated!
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casscainmainly · 1 month
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Why Duke Thomas Should Be A Dick Grayson Hater
Dick and Duke is such an underrated and underexplored relationship. Here is my pitch for why Duke should be a Dick Grayson hater.
1. The Rooftop Thing
Reason number one and the start of Duke's grudge should be the rooftop incident in Robin War. Dick, as part of his plan or whatever, leads Duke to a roof and abandons him to the cops.
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LOOK AT DICK'S SMUG FACE. Tell me you wouldn't hold a grudge too if this was the FIRST major interaction you had with him?? Duke should use this against him at any possible opportunity.
2. ACAB
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From We Are Robin #2. Once Duke finds out Dick used to be a cop, it's OVER for him.
3. Jason and Damian
Duke is quite close with Jason and Damian (in my head, particularly Damian - that's his LITTLE BROTHER). Anyway, these two are obsessed with Dick. You have Jason, with his miles-long brother issues that puts Dick on a pedestal, and you have Damian, who thinks Dick is the best person on Earth who can do no wrong. They would talk Duke's ears off about him. Duke would HATE IT.
4. Robin
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This panel from Night of the Monster Men sums up quite nicely the difference in the way Dick and Duke approach vigilantism. Duke is the 'idealised' Robin, whose Robin-ing isn't contingent on Batman; Dick is more or less too tied up in Bruce. I think, because the Robin identity means a lot to Duke, having the original Robin be like this would irk Duke a LOT.
5. Tom Taylor
SPOILERS FOR CURRENT NIGHTWING RUN: in Nightwing #116, Dick gets framed for murder and Babs tells him to reveal he's Nightwing to clear him of suspicion. She says Bruce suggested it, and recounts everyone who agreed:
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Hm. Is someone missing here? Oh yeah: DUKE. TT probably just forgot Duke, but where's the fun in that? Instead, if Duke is a Dick Grayson hater, you have the funniest scene imaginable. Everyone gathered in the Batcave, laying down their identities for Dick, and Duke is like 'I don't give a damn. He can rot in jail.' and peaces out.
BONUS points if he does this to get back at Dick for reason number 1.
6. Parallels
Duke's origin deliberately mirrors Bruce's, but that means it mirrors Dick's as well. Duke and Dick parallels go insane: they both had loving families, lost both parents at once, were in the foster system (varyingly for Dick but for the purposes of this post I'm gonna include it), were wards/not adopted by Bruce initially, have a huge reverence for family, have a thing about heights, view Robin as separate from Batman, forged their own identities, etc.
Tell me this page doesn't slap:
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Anyway Duke would HATE this too. He'd be so annoyed that the person he has the most in common with is Dick, and that would fuel his Dick Grayson haterism.
Dick, on the other hand, has no hard feelings towards Duke. Duke would be glowering at him from the corner of the room and Dick would meet his gaze and be like 'ah Duke is so cute' and smile back. This would make Duke 10000x angrier.
Anyway that's my ideal Dick and Duke dynamic, feel free to add or modify or disagree with anything!!
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genderqueerdykes · 4 months
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there really is a cultural pressure for transmascs & men to detransition, and it comes from all sides. it comes from the queer community too, not just terfs and cishet transphobes.
it took me a while to realize why transphobic people and transandrophobic queers utterly despise trans guys & mascs who are over the age of like 25- it's because it pisses them right off that we've resisted their attempts to make us detransition. it makes them so angry to see they were unable to groom that person into a life of self-shame and repression. it really seems like MOST people believe that trans men will just detransition eventually in life? people NEVER think about older trans men, only teenage trans boys and trans men in their very early twenties.
when i was involved with my local punk scene i was addressed with condescension, almost everyone around me didn't accept transmasculinity as a legitimate identity and thought that we would've transitioned by now in life. i encountered folks who would talk about transmasculinity with subtle disgust that made me feel like i was doing something wrong, and people who expressed overt disgust, saying in plain english that they were disgusted by breasts and vaginas because they were gay men. all along the way i was literally mocked for not having a penis, and one of my roommates started treating me differently once they found out i didn't have one (because they were attracted to me)
i've been on T for 9 years, and been out as a trans man for a bit longer than that, and i noticed as i've aged i've also attracted a lot of folks who have tried to deter me from identifying as a trans man, either through directly telling me that trans men are inherently dangerous, or by implying that women or another gender are safer, quieter, calmer, "less traumatizing to be around," etc. one of my exes told me they were terrified to date me (despite literally going out of their way to do so for over half a year) because they were scared i would be transphobic to them because i'm a transmasculine lesbian.
i received pressure from online friends to either detransition and become an intersex butch woman, or to something feminine adjacent or nonbinary. for years i dealt with a few friends who kept subtly hinting that i should stop identifying as a trans man or trans masc because of how awful transmascs are- going as far as to sending me screenshots of transmascs speaking, complaining about them and calling them whiny, annoying. talking about how all transmascs are entitled, how all transmascs take things too personally, how we complain too much, and so on.
people make no effort to make space for transmascs and men. i met 0 transmascs in my local punk community that i was able to stay in contact with. none. i met a few in passing but none that actually were introduced to me in a capacity where i could actually try to befriend them. it really felt like other punks in the scene were desperately trying to keep the transmascs apart at times. excuses were made as to why i couldn't hang out with other transmascs i liked, but i was constantly being forced to befriend transphobic cis gay men and transandrophobic transfemmes who outwardly expressed hatred and disgust of us. it really felt like it was on purpose... almost as if other members of this community wanted our attention, but never wanted us to give each other attention or a sense of community. like we were objects, not people to be included in the community for real. satellite friends, if you will.
i'll be honest with you. i was at my lowest at this point. i realized i wasn't just a trans man and that i'm a genderqueer person who experiences multiple genders, including womanhood and an "other" gender, which was great. however now i was being forced to completely stuff down being a man for the sake of other people. instead of folks telling me they'd rather not hang out with transmascs, folks rather just attempted to guilt me for identifying as such in the hopes i'd stop identifying that way. i was being told daily that trans men and mascs are inherently violent and terrible to be around. i was in discord servers where transmascs were being kicked constantly for getting even slightly upset about transandrophobia, or being unfairly targeted by staff.
it's violence, but nobody wants to call it that. i pulled myself out of there and am now able to contact other transmascs and trans men who are proud of who they are and have elevated me back into a headspace where it's okay to truly be myself. just keep in mind that if you feel like you're in that situation, you're not alone. people who attempt to groom others are often very subtle it's not always up front. they will start slipping in hateful sentiments very slowly and make you feel like maybe they're the ones who are actually right.
it feels good to be an almost 32 year old trans guy. there's nothing to be ashamed about there. people project their feelings on to my gender and that has nothing to do with me. it has nothing to do with you, either. people will just project on to you for whatever reason- hatred is usually the motivator there. if you encounter folks who keep trying to badger you out of identifying as your gender, no matter who you are, transmasc, transfemme, transneutral, trans anything- they are not good for you. they are not your friends. they do not accept you as you are and you deserve so much better.
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wondersinwaynemanor · 4 months
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imagine some Gothamites pretending to be in trouble or hurt and calling for a specific bat just because they have a crush on them, but the batkids purposely mess it up by sending another bat.
they also do this because they're little shits.
[i told myself i won't make this too long, but oh well]
scenario 1:
a woman, who's not even in trouble, she mostly wants to see Nightwing's new suit because.. oh.. the new suit causes his behind to form well.
Woman: Nightwing, Nightwing! Where are you? I need help.
Robin! Tim, hops down from the tall building and mind you, his skateboard tucked under his arm: Hi, Ma'am! Sorry, Nightwing is unavailable tonight. I, Robin, will help you.
Woman, judges the skateboard before looking at Tim: Uh. Thank you, Robin, but I was specifically asking for Nightwing. Is he- he around?
Robin! Tim, cheeks red from the cold, shakes his head: No, Ma'am. Sorry.
Woman: That's... That's okay. I'll figure out my problem on my own. Thank you again, kid.
Robin! Tim nods at her way before climbing back up the building.
Nightwing appears from the darkness, laughing his ass off. Tim joins his older brother until their stomach ache from the laughing session.
--
scenerio 2:
young teenage girl with pink highlights on her hair bikes through the neighborhood and out of nowhere, just falls down on the side of the road, on the grass. but gently. purposely.
Teenager, holds her ankle: Ow, ow. Is The-The Signal around? I kind of.. Uh... Fell.
Robin, comes out from the trees and he looks even brighter than ever with the sun still out: That was kind of careless of you.
Teenager, a bit annoyed: Robin? Don't you only patrol at night? Where's The Signal?
Robin, adjusts his katana and shrugs: You'd be surprised that I happen to do this at morning too. Well. Occasionally.
Teenager, skeptical: Uhuh.
Robin just stares at her, not even answering about The Signal. it makes the teenager a bit uncomfortable.
Teenager, manages to stand: Anyways... I think I feel better now. I'll head home.
Robin, lips twitching to a smirk: Stay safe.
behind the trees, Duke and Tim giggle like little children.
Robin: I must admit.. That was quite hilarious.
--
scenario 3:
two loud men exit the bar. they've been talking about Spoiler and Black Bat inside, fangirling like teenagers about their crushes.
little did they know, Red Hood was inside that bar as well.
Man 1: Fuck, I'm too drunk. Is Spoiler there? I need help to go home.
they are not even drunk.
Man 2, hides a smile behind his hand: How about Black Bat? We poor men need some saving.
before they can even lift their mouths to laugh, Red Hood apprears from the alley, gun on his hand.
Red Hood, voice so deep from the helmet: Need a lift, boys? There's enough room for both of you on my bike.
Man 1 gulps and Man 2 nearly passes out.
Red Hood, smirks: Not the person you wanted to see, huh?
Man 1: Uh.... You are a sight to see, Red Hood. Uh, Sir.
Man 2: But no, tha-thank you.
Man 1: We can manage. Right, dude?
Man 2: Right. Of course.
Red Hood, wants to laugh so bad but he has to keep this persona first: Well, let me know if you need anything.
both men run to the other direction. one of them even trips.
Red Hood hears Steph and Cass' lively laughs through the comms.
--
scenario 4:
a young adult man steps outside his building, doesn't mind the drizzle from the Gotham sky.
Man: Shit. I forgot my keys.
Man, looks up at the building: Is Red Robin out there? I need help in finding the keys to my apartment.
there's no sign of the vigilante so the man decides to just re enter his building.
out of nowhere, a sound of someone landing behind him makes him turn around and he is faced with Black Bat, holding his keys around her gloved hand.
Man, shocked: Um.. Hey. You found- you found my keys.
Black Bat doesn't respond, just lifts the keys higher.
Man: Tha-thank you.
Black Bat nods before grappling to the darkness.
the young man feels stupid for doing what he did, which is throw his keys behind the dumpster. and he didn't even get to see Red Robin.
somewhere, Black Bat joins Spoiler and Red Robin on top of a building to share some laughs and enjoy some Batburgers.
--
scenario 5:
a couple of bestfriends, woman and man, stop by at the side of the road. they were gossiping about Red Hood's arms, modulated voice and height, saying how sexy he looks.
out of stupidity, the man stabs his switchblade on one of the wheels of his car.
Woman, nods at him before calling for help: Someone help us! We don't have a spare tire.
Man, heart beating so fast: Red Hood, can you please help us? Red Hood!
after a few minutes of longing, Nightwing, Spoiler and The Signal appear from behind their car, startling the two of them.
Nightwing, grins cheekily: Good evening.
Signal, smiles: You called for help?
Spoiler, huge smile on her face with a spare tire on her hand: Glad we saw this lying around.
it's actually a spare tire at the back of the man's car.
the woman and man exchange glances, slightly nervous.
Man, touches his chest: Oh, thank goodness.
Woman, pretends to be in relief as well: Thank God for you, guys. We appreciate it.
Signal and Spoiler help each other in putting the tire.
Nightwing, grin hasn't faded: Sorry, the Red Hood is a bit busy tonight.
Signal: Maybe try calling out for him some other time?
Spoiler: We would give his number to you, but he's kind of a private person.
both the woman and man blush, embarassment creeping on them.
by the alley, Red Hood watches the rest of the batkids, a low chuckle on his lips.
--
a bonus:
a bunch of teenagers play around under the rain, splashing mud on their clothes. one of the blonde girls call out, "Robin, come play with us!" then the rest of her playmates giggle at that. they idolize the young hero.
and who comes out of the darkness? the rest of the batkids except for Robin. they make sure that the children are able to go home and are safe.
meanwhile, Damian is at the Manor with a stuffy nose as he is sick due to playing with his pets under the rain last weekend.
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syoounn · 5 months
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•Asking bsd men silly question and proving them wrong
•Characters: Chuuya, Fyodor, Sigma
(This is a silly rushed fanfic just dropping it, lol)
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Chuuya
Chuuya was peacefully snuggled up to you.. as you were bored, of course, and decided to start something silly again. You sit up on a bed, looking at him seriously.
"Chuu.. Would you give me your heart.. if i needed it?" You asked.
“I’d give you more than just my heart if you needed it, Doll.” Chuuya said as he placed his hands together, resting them on his stomach as he looked up at you with a soft smile. “Ya know that.”
"Wrong answer..!"
“What do you mean wrong answer?!” Chuuya was quite confused by the reply, finding it puzzling as his eyebrows furrowed. That was a clear answer right there… Was it because it was too straightforward, or did you really want to be difficult…? He thought to himself.
"You got it wrong, so, no kisses for now," you said, teasing him..
“Dammit” Chuuya mumbled, feeling upset about the wrong answers he was giving, but now a tad annoyed at the fact that he couldn't get kisses if he wanted one. “Dammit, you're being difficult on purpose, aren't you, Doll?”
"Fine, keep bein' difficult then." Chuuya groaned, now turning away from you and burying his face into the pillow so you couldn't see his pout. "I'm trying to kiss ya here, but I guess that ain't happening."
You giggled as you watched him sulking and hugging the pillow. Chuuya's pout deepend, hearing you giggle, knowing that you were deliberately trying to annoy him. He wasn't going to cave in that easily, and so he laid there, continuing to sulk with his face in the pillow. "Shut up, you're so damn cruel and for what...?"
Chuuya grumbled as he kept his head buried into the pillow, making sure his annoyance was apparent, but finding it all too amusing to turn back around.
He could just grab you whenever he wanted to, so why was he being so hesitant now? With a groan and a light huff, he rolled over to see you. Taking a deep breath in, he prepared to grab you, wanting this to be over.
Chuuya felt you go slightly limp when he pulled you onto him, seemingly getting comfortable. Oh damn, you were in his grasp now. He could hold you as long as he wanted to, keep you close to him. He smiled to himself, enjoying the sound of your breathing. With a light snicker he spoke,
“There, now I got ya.”
You're now locked on Chuuya’s arms, making it impossible to get out of it. He buried his face on your neck and mumbled about you being mean as you just chuckled and eventually gave up and cuddled him back.
You still can't help but adore his pissed expression and successfully got him played as two of you enjoyed the embrace of each other and-..
Fyodor
You've never seen much of emotion on Fyodor... so you decided to ask a question since he believes in himself that he's never wrong. He's a smart man, after all.. you just pray that your trick would work on him.
"Can i ask a question..?" you asked.
Then go ahead, dear. Fyodor leans back in his chair, and a small smirk appears on his lips. As he looked like he already knew what you were planning.
"Do i mean the world to you?"
"Of course, you do, beloved. You mean more to me than anything else in the world." Fyodor gives you a soft look, and as he speaks, his voice is gentle, though there's a hint of something else within the deep timbre - something that feels a little off. Your heart skips a beat as his dark eyes narrow, and he leans forward, crossing his legs.
Therefore, he didn't say the real answer as you were happily about to prove him wrong.
"That’s a wrong answer..!" You said.
He snorts. "That's wrong? You're telling me that's wrong, dear?" An unreadable look passes through his eyes.
"It should be, i mean the universe to you," you said proudly and finally had a chance to prove that he's wrong by your own words.
Fyodor stares at you, his eyes almost seeming to shine with a dangerous shine. "Do you want me to ask you a question, my dear?"
You looked at him confused as he spoke with the smile of his.. "Do you think I would make you my wife if you didn't mean the universe to me, darling?" Fyodor's voice is low, and there is no trace of his usual humour when he speaks.
You completely froze and got defeated there... he definitely got you.
He chuckles as he leans back slightly. His voice, although still cold, turns back to one full of amusement when he speaks once more. "Now, my dear, don't look so scared. I'm sure I can help you with your worries." Fyodor gives you a small wink before he gets up from his chair, his movements graceful and smooth as he walks over to you and wraps his hands around your waist... as he slowly-..
Sigma
Holding a soft smile as he looked at you with those shy loving grey eyes of his.. Sigma has always been soft and gentle with you. He's currently cuddling with you after a long day from managing the Sky Casino. You decided to confuse him, perhaps.. "mess" with him.
"Hm.. if you said the correct answer, I'll give you something.. "
“And what question is that, my love?” He asked while still holding your small frame close to him in his arms, his hands gently rubbing your shoulder and your back. His soft smile never faltered.
"If you were in a room with 100 women.. would you be able to tell my laugh?"
“Without a doubt.” Sigma replied instantly. He could easily recall your cute and bubbly laugh. It was one of his most favourite things about you, apart from his love for you, of course. He's so in love with you..
"Incorrect..!"
“But..?” He seemed confused by your reply. He truly believed he was able to tell your laugh easily apart from others. He then looked at you with some form of disappointment, waiting for you to tell him the right answer.
"Why would you be in a room.. full of women?" You asked suspiciously...
He went silent for a moment. His facial expression was still one of disbelief. He eventually spoke his answer to your question after processing it.
“I wouldn’t be in a room full of women, I’m only interested in one.” He then softly chuckled in that same shy, loving manner that he always did.
“The one that’s currently in my arms.” He added afterwards. He then brushed his thumb through your hair, keeping a soft, loving smile.
“I have no interest in being in a room full of women, or any other woman for that matter apart from you.” He reassured you, his soft loving smile never faltered. He was still brushing his thumb through your hair.
“That’s the real answer.”
And yes.. as you expected.. you can't really continue what you were planning as you can't help but melt on his touch and loving gaze. It's hard to try and mess with him on how adorable he looks.. you really got defeated without even trying.
Sigma chuckled as a result of your defeated expression. His soft, loving smile stayed in place.
“I knew you were trying to pull something. But I was able to answer it just fine.” He teased you, softly placing a kiss on your forehead. Since you would always pull the unexpected on him, he always managed to win using that loving gaze of him.. your weakness.
Ranpo
(Bro already knew the answer before you could even asked.)
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yeppeun-riaa · 6 months
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What do you think their type of girl is: ran, rindou, sanzu and kakucho
TR BOYS AND THEIR TYPE
MDNI 18+
Not proofread. Idk why rans own is the shortest because hes my fav😫, I got carried away with the rest😭,hope you enjoy tho, thank you for the ask💕!
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⋆RAN
Ran is into brats! women that are stubborn, women that have an attitude that will be the death of them, women that are way to dramatic and clingy, overall just downright bratty, he'd love to put them in their place when they decide to bitch out on him, he's sadistic and loves to watch them cry while he punishes them.
'You really thought you'd get away after pulling that shit? Then fucking think again, whore, you should be glad I'm putting that dirty mouth of yours to good use' he'd say through gritted teeth while using your mouth th get himself off.
ALSO. He likes when she plays hard to get, he always up for a challenge. I think he'd also be into very studious girs, like student council, top of all her classes type shit because it boosts his ego, and melts his heart, knowing that someone so uptight would crumble within mere seconds under his touch.
⋆RINDOU
He honestly just loves women, he really isn't that picky when it comes to his type but he would fall 10× harder for a girl if she was clingy and really into pda. You might disagree but I think rindou is a moderate fan of pda😭 he just loves all the attention he'd get.... The fact that his girlfriend would always want to hold hands or want him to have his anywhere on her body, a girl that just needs him would ignite a fire in him, he may not show it but he enjoys being wanted...
Your mouth hung agape and you saw stars as rindou thrusted into you at an inhumane pace, all while bending you almost painfully over the sink. "Fuck—rin!" You cried as his hand came down on your ass, you looked like a mess as you locked gaze with yourself in the mirror, tears streaming down your face, makeup all ruined while rindou pounded into you from behind. "You just can't keep your hands to yourself huh?" He says punctuating each word with a slap to your behind. "Don't fucking cry, you wanted this and now you'll take everything I give you and thank me after" yeah... when you came back to the others it was pretty obvious what went down.
⋆SANZU
He likes himself a bimbo, a woman that's that kind, caring, innocent and downright stupid, a girl that's book smart, but stupid in anything else. The type dumb of girl that walks around in tight clothes and thinks the men staring at her being friendly, of course he gets annoyed when she fails to realize that someone is flirting with her, or when she ask the most dumb question and won't stop fucking talking, but it's okaayyy, he loves to shut her up and teach her a lesson!!
"W-wait haru! too much" you'd yelp from your spot on the bed, trying to break free from your restraints to tug him away from your aching pussy. He smirks and runs his tongue up your slit, sticking one more finger into your tight littel hole and sucking harshly on your clit, "you're a fucking whore, if i didn't know any better I'd think you did that on purpose because you wanted a punishment" he spat harshly at you, you lost count of how many times you came, all you were sure of was that he needed to stop because it was all too much. "Baby I'm sorry! I di-didn't know he was flirting", he scoffs slapping your cunt making tears form on your waterline, "how could you not know? He was all up in your fucking face, talking about he could be better to you than me, are you dumb, or just dumb." It was a statement, not a question and you mourned seeing him sit up to undo his pants, it was gonna be a long fucking night.
⋆KAKUCHO
Kakucho is another one that just loves women♡ he's smitten for women that are confident, it drives him crazy (in a good way) when a girl is passionate and radiates good energy. That popular girl that everyone knows and loves, the girl that every guy wants, the girl that everyone would throw hands for if she ever cried. He wants that type of girl so he can be there for her, and see the side of her no one else gets to. Even the sad side that she never shows, he'll take great pride that he was able to break down her walls and be the only one too see her In that different night. He want to be the one that makes the false happiness, that no one else could detect, real.
"Shh, it's okay" he'd whisper sweet nothings I to your ear at night while he made love to you. Some nights rough, others slow and sensual, it all depended on how you felt, and right now you were sad, all you wanted was the him to love on you, melt all the sadness away. And that's exactly what he would do.
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screamforyani · 1 year
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cariño
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warnings ↠ dubcon-ish?, enemies with benefits, handjob, edging, implied intercouse towards the end
a/n ↠ i know this is very out of the blue but i watched atsv and i cant get miguel out of my head
wc. 1.1k
“untie me,” hissed miguel, fangs jutting as his blood-thirsty eyes followed you. 
you let out a hollow laugh the second those words escaped his mouth and met his penetrating stare. to say you and and miguel were enemies would be an understatement. there was something about this guy that irked you in the worst way, but could also turn you on like no other.
the feeling was mutual. you’d never admit a word of this if it wasn’t - not even to yourself. you and miguel had a weird thing going on, the sort of thing where the line between hate and lust grew thinner with each dark, loathing stare he shot you. 
maybe you’d had his cock in you a couple of times. twelve, to be exact, though not that you were counting (because you totally weren’t). not your proudest moments, but the sight of him on his knees, tangled in a weaving of webs made you forget it. his muscles bulged with every endeavor to free himself from your little trick. which was hilarious, because if they were any tighter, they’d burst right through his spandex. 
not that you were complaining. 
“hm, let me think about it,” you hummed, pretending to be deep in thought. “no.”
“i said - untie me. now,” miguel roared, as if it would make any difference. 
you crouched before him, pouting. “what’s the matter, spider-man? can’t handle other people telling you no? you don’t get to be the boss of everyone, cariño.”
you waved your finger in his face, to which miguel responded to with a lean forward as if he were going to bite your wrist off, but you were too quick. 
“woah there, bitey,” you taunted. “get it? that rhymes with spidey. hilarious, don’t you think?”
miguel spat, “you annoy me.”
“it’s a pleasure,” you said, merely grinning. then, you pointed to the extended talon behind his back where his hands were tied, asking, “can i borrow that? thanks.”
you used his talons to poke a hole in the lower half of his suit, promptly tearing at the spandex until the hole expanded. miguel wasn’t exactly pleased, not yet anyways, barking, “what the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“more than you deserve,” you whispered, widening the gap until his half-hard cock was freed. that you inevitably already saw. for obvious reasons, it was difficult for spider-men to conceal their hard-ons. “you guys freeball under these suits? that’s crazy. i mean, not that you’re gonna catch a hard-on fighting the spot, but you never know. i mean, what if some really sexy villain just hits… the spot. get it? the-”
“the spot. yes, i get the joke. shut the hell up,” miguel grumbled, irritated.
you giggled. his annoyed face was too hot. of course, you were riling him up on purpose.
licking a line down your palm, you gently grabbed his cock, stroking him in your hands while looking him in his angry eyes. you saw his features tense, the part that didn’t want to be angry surfacing. the part that wanted to be relieved.
that was all that was wrong with this cranky guy. he just needed some relief in his life, and who better to provide it to him than you, the spider-person he never wanted on this team in the first place but took in because jess had insisted you could be useful. and you were, in more ways than one. not that miguel would ever admit that, though.
“fuck,” miguel grunted, writhing again, though not in an attempt to escape. you knew how to pleasure him and that was your saving grace, but you also knew how to tease. “could you be any slower with that?”
“i could, actually. watch this,” you retorted, now pumping him in no particular hurry. you had time to waste.
your leisure movements were killing miguel slowly. literally. he groaned, “well, could you go any faster?”
“i could,” you repeated with a lilt. “but you’d have to say the magic word.”
“go faster!”
you gave him a mocking frown. “i don’t think that’s it, o’hara.”
“do i have to?”
“do you want to cum?”
miguel winced his eyes closed, heaved a huge sigh, and huffed, “please, go faster.”
“wow, you hit the lottery,” you said, quickening your pace. you loved watching his brows furrow with pleasure, sweat beading at his face.
miguel bit his lip, wanting to be mad at how you satisfied him. it reminded you of when he was buried balls deep inside of you, his weight resting on top of your chest while his teeth clamped into your shoulder, not for the purpose of extracting blood but to smother the sounds of pleasure that escaped him when your cunt was squeezing his dick. almost like he would rather die than let you know you were good for something.
it didn’t matter, though. the telltale signs of arousal manifested themselves in plentiful ways from his body, like the taut ache in his pants when you turned him on a little too much. he got so hard for you, it was ridiculous.
and you were having a ball (you were tempted to make a joke, but resisted for his mental sake). there was something about having an insanely large, strong man who could potentially crush you to smithereens squirming at your mercy. it made warmth spread through your chest and the slyest grin curl onto your lips.
miguel’s hips were thrusting into your palm, an obvious sign that he was on the brink of climax. you’d come to know it by now - he started to lost control, the reins slipping out his hands. and you loved it. you loved how he was a slave to his urges and not the other way around.
“you almost there?” you asked, in spite of being fully aware. 
miguel offered you no words, but the look on his face and his unstill, restless body said enough.
that was when you got the bold idea to withdraw your hand at the very last second, depriving him of what could have been. his wrath was instant. you saw his hips flail in a desperation you’d never seen of him before, his fluttering eyes snapping open to cut at you.
“oopsies,” you sang, smiling innocently.
that was the very last straw for miguel and he broke out of your restraints, having enough of playing weak. you gasped, caught off-guard when he switched on a dime, throwing you against the ground and hovering over you. you parted your lips to speak, but he was quick to shoot a web over your mouth. 
“you talk too much,” miguel growled, cutting your own spandex with his talons, and was pleased to find you were very wet. he fixed himself between your thighs, leaning into your ear to whisper, “and for the record, nobody decides if i cum, cariño.”
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victimsofyaoipoll · 11 months
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Finals
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Propaganda Under Cut
Sakura Haruno
Her husband is gay and her author doesn't know how to write women. So many people say she's the worst but she. DESERVES. BETTER!!! Save her from this franchise.
My baby girl my bestie my best friend. She committed the crime of um being written by kishimoto who both doesn’t know how to write women and somehow writes men in the gayest way possible specifically naruto and sasuke. Like the thing is naruto and sasuke ARE gay and also she gets so much hate for the crime of kishimoto writing her one dimensionally in love with sasuke. I know her personally she is a butch lesbian to me just trust me she’s in love with Ino and has a lesbian thing going on with Karin okay just trust me. My everything. She needs to divorce the loveless lavender marriage she’s in 
What is there to say, even? The OG Threat to my 90s anime brain, the only woman I've ever hated with such a passion she made me turn away from the color pink. I used to write fics with my friend where she got left behind on purpose so our OCs could join the Naruto and Sasuke team instead. I loathed this bitch until I was 16 and realized the author simply couldnt write women and decided it was time to make peace with Sakura. It is not her fault she's vaguely written and obsessive over Sasuke. She deserves better. Sasuke and Naruto still should be together and Sakura shouldnt be with Sasuke but I no longer believe this because I hate Sakura, it is because I love her. She deserves a spouse who will actually put in the time to treat her like the hero she is.
Misa Amane
she gets treated in-canon the way fandoms treat female characters that Threaten an m/m ship. it's like, "oh why don't you go sit in the corner and be pretty, misa, while the Men have intelligent conversation and pretend they aren't ten seconds from fucking each other, doesn't that sound nice?" it's infuriating. and MAYBE it's better now but i remember her getting treated the same way in fanfiction too, like we all need to do just as badly by our female secondary characters as fucking tsugumi ohba, but with the added insult of making her be alternately oblivious of the relationship between light and L or actively trying to sabotage it—incompetently, of course, because god forbid misa be allowed dignity or moments of cleverness.
she's one of the first characters I think of when I consider old school fandom misogyny. The annoying bitch and clingy crazy gf allegations were AFTER HER ASS. She's also a lot more intelligent than people gave her credit for, but most seem inclined to take the Very Biased word of our unreliable, narcissistic narrator and his homoerotic arch nemesis and claim that just because she's bubbly and into romance that she's also a complete moron. Which is blatantly untrue. Everyone was afraid of Misa girlbossing too hard. Killing people and devoting yourself to the deranged twink of your dreams even though you know he'll never love you back??? Having a hardcore goth aesthetic and being so Hot even literal Death Gods are into you?? God forbid women do ANYTHING!
Not only is she the victim of yaoi culture, she is the victim of early 2000s misogyny by an author that wanted to introduce a girl character because he knew his male rivals were getting too homoerotic. She is a goth bimbo icon who portrays what I think is one of the few callouts for stan culture and what parasocial relationships can do to both the stan and the idol. The fact that she is a toxic fan of Kira and also hot, funny, sociable is tragic in its own way, which I think the author did try to touch on but was too misogynistic too really get through. Of course, she was reduced to villain status by the fandom and anime alike because she got in the way of the supposed romance in their psychological horror anime
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Bad Faith Part Two
Part One | Masterlist
Pairing: Harvey Specter x Reader
Rating: Explicit - 18+. Minors, kindly get off my lawn.
Notes: Not beta-read because when is it ever. Read this over six times but there are probably twenty typos that I'll spot the second I hit post, so. Anyway! Welcome to part two of two!! Thank you for reading 💖
Length: 14.2k
Warnings: Angst; fluff! Huzzah!; Reader’s married surname is Hayward; reader is depressed for swaths of the chapter; unhealthy coping mechanisms; lovers to enemies to allies to lovers; explicit sexual content - vaginal sex, oral sex, hate sex, safe sex
Summary: Your life was four walls, a cruddy bed, rickety furniture. You spent too much time awake when you should’ve been sleeping; too much time reminiscing when you should have been moving on; too much time dwelling on the time that you spent with men in your life that probably wouldn’t spare you another thought. 
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“Ross. Mike Ross.” 
“Cut the Bond schtick.” 
“I’m a contender.” 
“Not a chance. Besides, we’ve been over this; you’re Q at best.” 
“Could do a lot worse than Desmond Llewelyn or Ben Whishaw—Hang on, you think you’re Bond?” 
Harvey stopped, gesturing over his body sweepingly before scoffing, “Please.”
“Please is right,” Mike muttered, tucking his hands into his pockets. “You always go to this thing?” 
“...I’ve been once or twice.” In truth, Harvey hadn’t been to the New York City Estate and Properties gala in years. He hadn’t had occasion or reason; the last time he had, he’d made sure that she wouldn’t be there before he’d agreed. Tonight his purpose was manifold—drink good champagne, eat good food, and warn Hayward off of pursuing his lawsuits against his client’s property. 
His client. It wasn’t as simple as all that, but these days, he’d managed to separate her from the work. It was clinical—and clinical was exactly what he needed. 
“Did you see the menu for dinner? I didn’t see a menu.” 
“Get your fill of canapes. I’m talking to Hayward and then we’re going.” 
“What?” Mike pouted. “But I thought we were staying for the ceremony.” 
“You thought wrong. Keep your eyes peeled. Sooner we get this conversation over, the sooner we can get away from this den of cobras.” 
“Never have a mongoose when you need one.” Mike nodded over Harvey’s shoulder. “Found Mrs. Hayward.” 
“Thought she didn’t like you calling her that.” 
“She doesn’t, but around here, it might be better to use that rather than use her maiden name and have someone ask me who the hell I’m talking about…You gonna talk to her?” 
“What for?” 
“So she at least knows what suit to look for when she wants to avoid you.” 
Harvey’s chastising glare was met with a wide, smug grin. 
“Come on,” Mike groaned. “You haven’t spoken to her in weeks.” 
“And have you considered that that may be why things have been going so smoothly?” 
“Fine—I’ll give you another reason you should say hi to her.” 
“You better make it a good one this time.” 
“Jessica is catching on to the fact that you haven’t touched this case with a ten foot pole.” 
Harvey winced slightly as he swallowed the last of his champagne. 
“Fine,” He grudgingly conceded, setting the empty champagne flute on a passing waiter’s tray. “Point me.” 
“She’s at your two o’clock.” 
Harvey turned accordingly, pushed out an annoyed sight—and then felt what breath he had left catch in his throat. 
‘Stunning’ was the first word that came to mind, but in his heart, Harvey knew that it didn’t do her justice. For his lingering, abiding annoyance with her, and with them—with the whole goddamn situation—there were moments when Harvey remembered why he’d fallen in love with her in the first place. 
She didn’t want to be there. Harvey didn’t need to ask to know that—it was common sense. But that didn’t stop her from showing her face, from being impeccably dressed, and maintaining what had to be a meticulously constructed poker face. 
“...You do know what staring isn’t talking, right?” 
Mike’s amusement cut into Harvey’s reverie, and he cleared his throat to refocus himself. 
“Keep an eye out for Hayward,” Harvey ordered before he forced himself forward, slowly weaving through the crowd. 
What the hell was he even going to say to her? Hi wasn’t going to cut it; Come here often? Was almost as stupid. How about something about her dress—Whether or not it was new? That had to be safe, neutral ground— 
Harvey had been so focused on what he planned to say that he hadn’t clocked her turning to face him. He chalked it up to panic radar—her hype-sesitivity given the current situation. He stared. She watched. And then—
“Come here often?” 
Damnit. Stupid, sure, but at least it wasn’t hi. 
-- 
“...Annually, at least.”
Was it your imagination, or was Harvey…Nervous? At the very least, he seemed as confused as you were at the fact that he was talking to you. 
“I’m a little surprised that you made a showing,” He admitted. 
“I could say the same for you. Does Jessica have you prospecting clients to get back in the good graces of the real estate department at the firm?” 
Harvey’s eyes narrowed with playful intrigue,and for a moment, you saw a flash of the man that you used to know—the man who gave you that same look when you slipped your panties off and tucked them into his jacket pocket to find later. 
“What did Mike tell you?” 
You shrugged nonchalantly, glancing around. 
“Nothing impor—...Tant.” You trailed off, falling still and quiet as your eyes landed on Steven. 
Well, he was hard to miss. 
Standing at 6’3, with a manufactured tan, swimmer’s build, full head of gracefully graying hair, and veneers that made his smile look like a neatly arranged row of chiclets gum, Steven Hayward was the very picture of the kind of health that only wealth could buy. With the stress of the last few weeks, you knew that you weren’t looking your absolute best. You’d had so many sleepless nights; you’d swapped out your favorite catered meals in favor of cheaper alternatives, or dollar slices of pizza, or ramen from the bodega down the block from your apartment, pulled gently from beneath the cat that seemed to always be napping on the exact flavor that you wanted. 
You were certain that Steven lost no sleep over the decision to divorce you, or to pull the rug out from beneath you. You expected him to be in tip-top shape—but you saw hints of his rage as he grew closer. 
“Oh—Hell,” You mumbled, tipping your head toward Harvey. “You might wanna clear out.” 
“You kidding? I’ve got a front row seat to the prize fight of the century.” 
“Target acquired.”
You frowned at the sound of Mike’s voice, but you didn’t turn to look at him as you muttered, “Target?” 
“Darling.” The term of affection oozed past Steven’s bleached-white teeth. He stopped just a couple of steps from you—not near enough to touch, but close enough to see the anger sparkling in his dishwater gray eyes. A pulse of vindication swept through your chest at the tense smile, and the tight pull of his jaw. 
“Steven,” You greeted cordially.
“I’m surprised to see you this evening.” 
“If I had a nickel.” 
“Oh, but you do. Putting all of those properties up for sale, I expect you plan on having more than a few nickels.” 
“What can I say? A girl’s gotta get by.” 
“Anything I can do to help?” 
“Have you considered unfreezing our joint account?” 
He chuckled humorlessly. “Anything but that.” 
“Then wire me half.”
“You haven't earned half.” 
It was meant to cut you down and lay you out, but you refused to bow to this man publicly when the other attendees must always hold you in such low regard as it was. 
“I agree,” You offered, and before Steven could preen in his false superiority, you clarified: “I deserve more.” 
Steven bristled, shoulders bunching tight. 
“Perhaps I should just take this evening’s expenses out of that half.” 
You furrowed your brow pointedly, shaking your head. 
“Mmm…I’m not sure I understand what you mean.” 
“Really.” 
“Mm…N—...No—?” 
“Perhaps you’ve been so busy hocking your clothes like a dog snuffling for scraps—” Your face flared with embarrassment as Steven pressed on: “But there was meant to be a reception at my penthouse this evening.” 
My penthouse. If it had only been the two of you in that room, you may have slapped him. How had he been able to detach, to force you from his mind and his heart so quickly? Had he ever loved you? Had any man? 
The heat of Harvey’s body suddenly seemed to flare just behind you. 
“Ah!” You nodded sagely, “It’s all coming back to me.” 
“What could have happened there, I wonder?” 
“You must not have taken care.” 
“Of what?” 
Of me. “Of anything.” 
Steven took you in for another long, cruel moment before he jutted his chin over your shoulder. 
“Friends of yours?” 
Ah yes. Your personal legal peanut gallery. You glanced back to confirm their positioning before raising your hand to gesture: 
“This is Mike Ross.” The name seemed to knock something loose in Steven’s mind as he shook Mike’s hand. 
“Ah, Mr. Ross. I saw your name on some documentation this morning.” 
“You’re about to see it a lot more, Mr. Hayward.” 
“And this is Harvey Specter.” 
Your stomach lurched as Steve’s eyes widened slightly, lips curling into a smile. 
“This is Harvey Specter?” He didn’t bother to hide his amusement as he proffered his hand. ”I didn’t realize I sent you the worst possible port in this storm.” 
“You didn’t,” Harvey insisted, grasping Steven’s hand firmly. “You sent her to the best.” 
“Try not to drop her this time. My arms aren’t open anymore.” 
Your hands tightened where they were clasped around one another. You forced yourself to keep your gaze set stalwartly on Steven, rather than watch the contentious (and no doubt, painful) handshake that the two of them were sharing. 
“Well,” You chirped. “This was a lovely little catch-up.” 
“Yes,” Harvey chimed in, finally extricating his hand from Steven’s and tucking it into his pocket. “We must do it again sometime. Preferably at a deposition.” 
“Maybe in court,” Mike added. You had to fight down a smile at the sudden swell of support, and a wave of warmth that swept through you. Steven’s eyes narrowed just a touch more before he nodded. 
“I do hope you’ll stay for my speech.” 
“Who’d you have write it for you this time?” You asked. 
“I took a crack at writing it myself.” 
If that was true, it was sure to be a mess and a half. You always had been the one to draft his speeches or remarks—or you paired down any drafts sent over by the agency’s PR department. 
“I look forward to it.” 
Steven gave you one last look before he turned away, slapping on his businessman smile as he went, and raising a hand to signal someone like a politician trying to garner votes. 
“...Why didn’t you mention the forgery charges?” Mike asked. 
“It’s too soon to tip our hand...What table are you sitting at?”
“Thirteen,” You sighed. 
“Lucky number,” Mike muttered. 
“Go change our place cards,” Harvey ordered. “Put us on either side of her.” 
You whirled around to face him, stunned at the tight irritation pinching his features. 
“So we are staying for dinner?” Mike grinned. Harvey blinked flatly at him before reiterating: “Go.” 
You watched Mike duck through the crowd, heading for the dining room.
“Were you not going to stay for dinner?” 
“I’ve gotta eat some time. Come on,” Harvey nudged your arm with his, “Buy me a drink.” 
“It’s an open bar.” 
“Good. Then it won’t break the bank.” 
The press of Harvey’s warm hand to your lower back was far more steadying than it should have been, and it managed to dampen the enraged fire in your belly. 
“How’s that good faith deposit doing, anyway?” 
“I threw 98% of it into an HYSA.” 
“Smart move.” 
“I should’ve made moves like it sooner.” 
“Better late than never.” 
“I guess.” 
“...You don’t have to stay for dinner.” 
“We’re going to.” 
“On either side of me as well, I’m flattered. I wasn’t planning on having guard dogs this evening.” 
“As long as you don’t try to keep us on short leashes.” 
“Depends on whether you plan on doing more barking or biting this evening.” 
“I’ve barked enough for now.” 
“Biting?” 
“If you play your cards right, sure.” 
You didn’t bother to hide your open shock at the blatant implication, but when you looked at Harvey, you found him giving you a surprisingly warm smile. 
“Looks like speaking with Steven has put a little pep in your step, Mr. Specter.” 
“I wouldn’t say that.” 
“What did?”
Harvey leaned heavily against the bar, focus set elsewhere as he tried to catch the bartender’s eye. 
“You and I both know that this is going to be a long road. I like a good fight.” 
“You don’t say.” 
“It’s important to me that you’re ready for it, too.” 
You nodded a little. “It may also be prudent for us to keep that fight directed at Steven, and not toward one another.” 
Harvey took the two proffered champagne flutes, passing you one and holding it up to cheers: 
“I’ll drink to that.” 
-- 
It wasn’t perfect right away. You and Harvey still butt heads from time to time. On the purchases that the judges ruled that you were able to move forward with, you disagreed over terms—purchase price, contingencies, negotiations. But the knots unpicked sooner and sooner, and you reached resolutions faster. Mike hardly had to intervene anymore. Harvey gave Jessica status updates openly, and you abidingly ignored the smug, self-satisfied smiles that she gave you as you left her office. 
With the service and tenancy contracts, the two apartment building sales that aren’t mired in paperwork still chugged along slowly. You knew that it was protocol, but it was excruciating. You felt ill every time you got an email from Mike or Harvey, expecting correspondence that spelled disaster. Every little bit of good news only brought marginal relief. 
You spent most of your days in your apartment, packaging clothing or jewelry that you’d sold online. You got your packages sent off by five in the evening, and the rest of your night was your own—though it often ended similarly. Your logical mind often gave over to your emotions in the evening, and you allowed yourself to slip into quiet, depressed oblivion. The methods varied—slurping down two packets worth of dollar-pack ramen, and chasing that with a few bottles of beer as one of your favorite shows played in the background; curling up in your bed and staring at the ceiling at 8 PM, and laying wide awake with your mind racing until the sun came up; hunting through property listings online and plotting a comeback that felt like it would never come.
You never had visitors. Aaron was so entrenched at work that you  only got the odd text from him. Your former friends seemed to have further aligned themselves with Steven after his triumphant speech at the gala—during  which he had gone out of his way to omit any mention of you from his historical record. You had avoided seeing much of Jessica outside of the office, certain that she would council you on a good divorce lawyer, or encourage you to begin dating, or level another lecture about the stupidity with which you had bungled your last marriage.
For as well as you knew she meant, you didn’t have the time or patience—and some little part of you, some stupid, naïve part that knew well enough that the war was already lost, was convinced that Steven would change his mind.
It was unlikely, considering the magnitude of his cruelty over the last couple of months, and further exacerbated by your actions before the gala. Steven would not let you back into his arms, his home, or his heart. You didn’t truly want to be let back into his arms, or his heart, but you missed his home. You had taken such care in the planning, the curation, the furnishing, the upkeep. You were proud of it. You had been happy, and comfortable, and so goddamn foolish.
Now you were tired, and lonely, and you spent so much of your day feeling stupid. 
Sometimes, when the wind blew just a little too hard and rattled the flimsy windows, you let the sound of it cover your sobs against the paper-thin walls that connected you to your neighbor’s apartment (you’d learned just how much sound bled through when you first became privy to your neighbor’s light argument, which had then turned into a full-on shouting match. They’d sounded like they were in the same damn room with you, wall be damned).
It was one such sob session that you managed to hear someone knock on your door. You sniffled, shifting on your bed. You were certain that the sound was from next door, or that you’d misheard the rattle of the window. But when you heard the second, insistent round of knocks, the source couldn’t be mistaken. You sniffled, setting your beer aside onto the bedside table crowded with empties and pushing yourself off of the bed. You swiped haphazardly at the tears on your face as you walked over to it, calling out, “Alright, for fuckssake!” When a third round of knocks rapped against the door.
You threw it open, finally, wincing at the invasive flash of the flickering fluorescent hall light. You weren’t sure what was worse: the flickering, harsh strobe, or Harvey’s stunned confusion.
It may have been a tie.
“…What is it?” You mumbled.
“Have you been crying?”
“Little bit.”
“Are you drunk?”
“Getting there.”
“…Get dressed.”
“What?”
“Get dressed,” Harvey insisted, nodding over your shoulder. “We’re going out.”
“Harvey, I’m really not in the mood,” You sniffled.
“We won’t go far.”
“Then why are we going at all?”
Harvey opened his mouth to answer, but was cut off by a sudden crash! and the swell of yelling voices from next door. His eyes darted toward it before he nodded.
“I’m not listening to that all night.”
“Who the hell says you’re going to be here more than five minutes?”
Your heart stuttered as Harvey’s hands planted firmly on your hips, steering you back into your studio before he nudged the door shut with his foot.
“Get dressed. And hurry up.”
You weren’t sure what it was—his touch, his firm insistence, or your own distaste for your screaming neighbors—but you turned around and began dutifully rifling through one of your remaining trash bags of clothing.
“Where are we going?”
“There’s a diner around the corner.”
“A diner? How down heel of you, Mr. Specter.”
“I can appreciate the simple things.”
You snorted, straightening with a pair of jeans and a sweater. “Since when.” You glanced guardedly toward him before you nodded him toward the door. “Turn around.”
--  
“You can afford better than that place, you know.” 
You didn’t answer him. Instead, you shoved a handful of cheese fries in your mouth and leaned back to chew with laborious slowness. You expected Harvey to fill the silence, but he didn’t. He just watched, and waited, and stared at you until you swallowed. You nudged the plate toward him, offering: “Want one?” 
 You avoided his openly chastising gaze, tired of the fact that it was the only look you get from most of the lawyers in your life these days. 
“You have that good faith deposit.” 
“I told you where it went.” 
“The brownstone payment is on the edge of clearing escrow. Look for somewhere else to live.” 
“Not yet.” 
“Why not?” 
“It’s not a good idea.” 
“Steven isn’t going to weasel into every potential deal and hold it up.” 
“Forgive me for my skepticism, but I don’t exactly have many friends in this city anymore.” 
“...Are you planning on going somewhere else?” 
You’d be lying if you said it hadn’t crossed your mind. There were cities here you could rebuild your life and your practices, places where you were sure Steven wouldn’t bother to try and strike down your attempts to rebuild your life. 
“Maybe,” You admitted. “I liked Cambridge.” 
Harvey’s lips twitched with a gentle, regretful smile. It was his turn to reach out and swipe a few fries and chow down. 
“Realty up there is pricey,” You added. “Could make a polite killing on student housing.” 
“How does one make a polite killing?” 
“Decent rent and coin-operated laundry. Maybe some paid parking, a few overpriced but conveniently placed vending machines.” 
“Redbull?” 
“I was just thinking about snacks, but you know what, Redbull isn’t a bad idea.” You reached out, picking up a fry and drawing it through the splodge of ketchup remaining at the edge of the plate. “Why did you come over?” 
“I wanted to let you know that the inspections are finished.” 
“On which?” 
“The properties that you didn’t know about.” 
“Anything stand out?” 
“A foundational issue on one of the apartment buildings, but it doesn’t cost enough that it should’ve stopped work.” 
“What about the others?” 
“Nothing that popped as catastrophic.” 
“You have the print-outs?” 
“In my car.” 
“Why are they in there?” 
“I was going to offer to take you for a drink, but you seemed to beat me to it.” 
You scoffed, shifting in your seat. “Don’t get all high and mighty on me, Specter.” 
“You do that often?” 
“What, drink?” 
“Yes.” 
“Are you accusing me of having a problem?” 
“I’m asking if you do that often.” 
“Once in a while.” 
“New for you?” 
“Relatively.” 
Harvey eyed you critically for a few moments before he nodded. “Call me the next time you want to have a drink.” 
“So you can talk me out of it?” 
“So you at least don’t do it alone.”
“I’m usually not in a talking mood when it happens.” 
“We don’t have to talk.” 
“Oh, please. As if you don’t love the sound of your own voice.” 
“Call me anyway.” 
You were quiet for a moment before you nodded. “You know, the thought of you dropping by may just be an effective suppressant.” 
Harvey’s smile widened a little. “Do you want to put the other houses on the market?” 
“I want to walk through the apartment buildings myself before I go through them.” 
“What about the ones in the Hamptons and the Cape?” 
“I’ll drive up.” 
“And Gstaad?” 
“A little trickier.” 
“Could bill it.” 
“I doubt it.” 
“You could, under discovery.” 
“This would not be covered under discovery.” 
“How would you know that?” 
“I’m sorry, remind me who used to quiz you for the bar?” 
Harvey scoffed softly, averting his gaze to the diner counter. “Well, this may surprise you, but a few laws have changed since then.” 
“And this may surprise you, but not only am I aware of that, I’ve also been pretty deeply entwined with lawyers since then. So I’m pretty comfortable making that assertion.” 
“And this? You think I’m not billing for this?” 
“Oh, I hope you are. I hope you bill for every second that it took you to walk up the steps to my apartment. I want Jessica to pay for my cheese fries. You know why?” 
“Because it would kill her?”
“It would drive her nuts.” 
“I can’t wait to give her the itemized total.” 
“I await the enraged phone call.” 
-- 
“You don’t have to walk me back up, you know."
“Sure I do. Gotta work off those fries. Besides, I’m billing for this until I officially drop you off.” 
You rolled your eyes, nudging Harvey’s shoulder with yours. Your depressed, tear-ridden, sobbing buzz had worn off over the course of dinner, and you didn’t think that the mood would creep back in once you were alone again. 
“I’ll walk through the apartment buildings tomorrow and see if I can get up to the Cape at some point in the next couple of weeks. The pictures and notes from the inspection look promising. If I dip into the good faith deposit, maybe I could get the Cape Cod house fixed up and sold before the summer.” 
“Or you could keep it as a rental property.” 
“Mm.” “You always liked the Cape in the winter…For some reason.” 
“I kinda like when it’s all grey and gloomy…and quiet.” 
“Be a good base for your Cambridge operation.” 
“Oh, please,” You chuckled. “It’s not even close. The red line doesn’t exactly go all the way to Hyannis.” 
The two of you slowed as you neared your landing, listening closely. 
“...Think the coast is clear?” Harvey murmured. 
“For now, at least.” You fished into your pocket for your keys. “Thanks for dinner.” 
“Sure. Remember what I said.” 
“I will.” 
“Call me if you need anything.” 
Anything. That was new. You nodded, gaze set on your keys as he turned to go back downstairs. 
“...Harvey?” 
“Yeah?” He stopped just a few steps away, and you had to scrounge up your courage to turn and look at him again. 
“I don’t, um…” You swallowed thickly. “I’m gonna wanna talk about it.” You watched Harvey’s face shift with grim understanding. 
“I don’t want to litigate that.” 
“Isn’t that your job?” 
“Not like this.” 
“Not tonight,” You reiterated, “But…Sometime. Please.” 
Harvey’s jaw went tight, but he gave you a short, firm nod before he turned away. You watched him round the corner, and listened until his footsteps faded and the front door opened downstairs. 
--  
The apartment buildings weren’t anything special. Stripped of most of their insulation, and with several of the windows already removed, the wind that pushed through them made the buildings sound like they were breathing. It was eerie, and chilly. You tightened your coat around yourself as you went from floor to floor, eyeing damaged pipes, areas where someone seems to have come in and rooted around for copper wiring, and the billowing plastic that marks off some doors that have been removed. 
The paperwork on this building listed the purchase date as nearly a year ago. 
A year ago, you and Steven had been discussing expanding your current operations. Maybe he hadn’t gotten sick of you yet. Maybe he’d bought you the buildings as a present and stopped work when things turned sour…Whenever that had been. 
There had been signs, sure, but Steven always had been temperamental. 
You pushed the thought away as you drew in a deep breath, turning toward the stairs. It wouldn’t do to overthink this just now. If needed, you could panic looking at the Hamptons, or Cape Cod…Or Gstaad, if you ever found a way to get to Gstaad. 
You reached into your pocket as your phone buzzed, drawing it out to find an incoming call. You groaned, stomping your foot petulantly before you raised it to your ear. 
“Jessica, I’m a little busy—” 
“I need you to come into the office.” 
Your fingers tightened around your phone as your palm began to sweat. 
“What happened?” 
“I’d rather discuss this in person.” “Jessica.” 
“Come to the office.” 
She hung up without another word. You swallowed thickly, lowering your phone and watching her call blink and then disappear. If she wasn’t willing to discuss it over the phone, whatever it was had to be very, very bad. 
-- 
“Cheese fries?” 
“Jessica,” You groaned, “Come on, there is no way that that’s why you called me here.” 
“No, it isn’t. But I’d like to remind you that you should remain fighting fit and cheese fries are not the way to do it.” 
“My life has fallen apart and dipped into a moderately humiliating place. I think I’m allowed to have a few cheese fries. Why did you tell me to come in.” 
“I have someone that I would like you to meet.” 
“I’m not going to start dating anyone now.” 
“Well, we can attack that another time. This is for your defense.” 
“Harvey’s on that.” 
“Your divorce.” 
“You know that I can’t afford a defense right now.” 
“I don’t mind getting a start while you get the pieces in place.” 
The man’s voice caught you off-guard, and you turned to find a man leaning in the doorway. Your brow furrowed a touch as you took him in—the long lean of his body, the neatly fitted charcoal suit and sky-blue tie, the curl of his dark hair, the twinkle of his warm chestnut eyes, and his small, intrigued smile. 
“Well that’s very kind of you, whoever the hell you are, but I don’t exactly have anything on the board right now.” 
“The fact that you even have a board is encouraging.” 
“...This metaphor is beginning to exhaust me.” 
“This,” Jessica stepped past you to gesture the man deeper into the room, “Is David Alford.” 
“Alford?” You repeated. “Like the plea?” 
“No relation. What would you know about an Alford plea?” 
“I know of it.” 
“How’s that?” 
“Well, I used to date a lawyer.” 
“Lucky guy.” 
“I don’t think he’d agree with you, as evidenced by the fact that he is no longer my boyfriend.” 
“It’s nice to meet you.” 
You shook his hand lightly, still wary from the ambush. 
“Look, Mr. Alford—” 
“David, please.” 
“—I don’t know what Jessica’s told you about my situation—” 
“She didn’t have to tell me much. Forgive my bluntness, but your name has come up in our circles over the last couple of weeks.” 
“Well, forgive my bluntness, but it’s not my circle anymore.” 
“It could be again.” 
“Are you going to get me a circle back in the divorce?” 
“I’m gonna get you whatever the hell you want in your divorce.” 
You let out a soft, disbelieving laugh, unable to help yourself. 
“O-kay,” You lowered your hand. 
“Why don’t I see what we can do about getting some coffee,” Jessica offered. “You two talk.” 
Your brows furrowed as she waved the two of you more deeply inside. Jessica, at least pretending to get coffee? Damn, she really did want the two of you to talk. You gave David a polite smile as you lowered yourself to sit.
“I’m sorry she dragged you in here.” 
“Wasn’t much of a drag. My office is a block away.” 
“Well, then I’m glad you haven’t come far for nothing.” 
“Nothing?” His brows jumped as he sat beside you. “I don’t understand.” 
“I’m not currently looking for a divorce lawyer.” 
“You need one.” 
“That is beyond the point, Mr—” 
“David.” 
“...Mister David,” You bit out pointedly, and fought back a wave of annoyance at his amused smile. “I’m not sure how much Jessica has told you, but there are a lot of things up in the air right now. I’ve socked away some money for my defense, but not enough.” 
“How would you know what’s enough?” 
“...Let’s pretend that I don’t know anything about the law, or the legal quagmire that I’ve gotten myself into. Let’s pretend that all I know about my soon to be ex-husband’s business is that he has a lot more money than I do. The two of us went into our marriage with about 600 bucks and a dream held together with tape and spit. I have watched, and I have helped my husband build up his business for the last eleven years. I have signed contracts, I have signed purchase orders, I have signed mortgages, I have signed deeds. Even if I wasn’t paying attention to what I was signing, I would know that Steven has amassed a lot of cash, a massive legal team, as well as a significant number of holdings—in both our names. He has a lot of power in this equation, and I do not. Whatever comes down the pike, it is going to be a protracted legal battle. If I was optimistic, I would figure that this would take about a year, but I’m not, and I know that it could take a few.”  
David’s dark eyes darted fascinatedly across your face before he offered: “But you do know a lot about Mr. Hayward’s business.” 
“Yes, I do.” 
“Because it was your business, too.” 
You averted your gaze from him as that washed over you. His acknowledgement made your heart knock hollowly against your ribs, and it took all of your strength not to slouch dejectedly in your chair. 
“...Yes,” You agreed. “It was.” “I understand that you’re discouraged. I would be, too, a lot of women are in your position.” 
“Exactly what position is that, Mister David.” 
His smile flattened with nerves, and he let out a huffed, joyless laugh. 
“I mean, having been served—” 
“A piping-hot plate of out on my ass?” 
“If that’s what you’d like to call it—”
“I call it that because that’s what it is, not because I like it that way.”
“I understand. Look,” David shifted in his seat, twisting to face you a little more. “I think that regardless of when you get your pieces in place, you have a real case here. I think I can get you half.” 
If you had a touch less decorum, you would have jumped out of your seat and screamed—both from the excitement, and the certainty that David Alford was out of his mind. Instead, you blinked twice, and once you managed to unstick your tongue from the roof of your mouth, asked:
“Half?” 
“Yes ma’am.” 
“There is no way.” 
“You’d be surprised.” 
“I don’t think I would, because I’m almost certain that’s impossible.” 
“Well, it certainly would be before.” 
“What exactly has changed?” 
“You didn’t know me. You do now.” 
You smiled in spite of yourself at the brash, almost fearless way that he said it. As skeptical as you were, you knew that this was exactly what you needed: someone as bold, confident, and fearless as—
“What a cozy little conference this is.” 
You turned back at the sound of Harvey’s voice, smiling a little. “Looking to join the fun?” 
“If I can hazard a guess at Jessica’s matchmaking, Alford is the one joining the fun.” 
“Specter,” David greeted, pushing himself out of his seat. “Haven’t seen you at the squash courts recently.” 
“I’ve been trolling the back nine,” Harvey offered, shaking David’s hand. “Nice to see you, Pleas and thank you.” 
Your brow furrowed at the term. “What?” 
“It’s what some of the guys at the club call me. You know, my name—” 
“Alford pleas and thank you.” You scrubbed your hand across your brow. “God, that’s dumb.” 
“We can’t all be queens of quip.” 
“You poor things,” You shot back scathingly. Harvey shot you a wink before turning back to David. 
“So, David, whaddaya say?” Harvey plied. “You filling the gap?” 
“Yeah, I’d love to fill ‘er in.” 
You didn’t miss his innuendo, nor the speculative, open, sweeping gaze that David leveled at you. Your brows inched toward your hairline, stunned at his brazenness. Surely you hadn’t seen it right—
“Coffee?” 
Your focus was broken at the sound of Jessica’s voice, and the sight of a coffee tray being wheeled in behind her. You let yourself be busied by it. You focused on your coffee, made it the way you liked, and let Jessica and David and Harvey talk about what you could reasonably expect out of the divorce battle. 
Reasonably, as if this entire situation hadn’t been insanely unreasonable. 
But you let yourself sit, and listen, and save your speculation for the train ride home. 
You must’ve read his look wrong, or misunderstood. He didn’t mean it like that. 
And even if he did, finding that look intriguing was incredibly appropriate. But it didn’t matter! Because he didn’t mean it like that. 
…And even if he did, it was probably just something that he tried to bring you on board. But it didn’t matter, because he did not mean it like that. 
Though if he did, it really wouldn’t matter, because it would be grounds for him to be disbarred. Nothing was going to happen…Even if you did find him attractive, and found his blunt approach and self-assured nature very, very hot. 
But you were not going to fuck him.
--  
“Don’t fuck him.” 
You had expected the warning to come from Jessica, but to hear it from Harvey of all goddamn people made you gape at him in shock. He just gave you a knowing look before he turned back toward the beer that he was opening. 
Your urge to have a drink that evening hadn’t been strong, but it had been there, and it had made you think of Harvey’s offer from the day before. You hadn’t expected such a quick response to your simple text of ‘Beer?’, but he had turned up a mere half hour later, a fresh six pack in hand. He had shrugged off his jacket, tossed it on to your bed, and walked over to your kitchenette—where he proceeded to say the most heinous thing.
“Excuse me?” You finally managed. 
“You heard me.” 
“I don’t think I did, actually, not properly, because it sounded like you just gave me an order that you had no business giving.” 
“I have plenty of business.” 
“No—” 
“Don’t—” 
“No no no, you do not, not here, and not like that.” 
“I’m just saying,” Harvey turned from the counter, planting his hand on the cruddy formica, “That I know—” 
“Do not say that you know me.” 
His expression darkened, and you watched as he drew in a deep breath. “I know him.” 
“...He has to be good, or Jessica wouldn’t have pulled him on to my case.” 
“He’s a good lawyer, but he’s a scuzzy asshole.” 
“I know the type.” 
“You think I’m a scuzzy asshole?” 
Your gut dropped at the hint of anger seeping into his tone. 
“I meant Steven.” 
Harvey turned away, hand curling into a fist and knocking lightly on the counter. 
“Just…Be careful with him.” 
“You are the last person that has any right to lecture me on the care that I ought to take with the men in my life.”
“I’m not lecturing you—” 
“No, you’re warning me off, like a little kid that’s playing too close to an electric fence.” 
“It wouldn’t be the first time.” 
“Fuck you.” 
“Fine by me, as long as you don’t fuck David.” “Alright, you know what,” You pushed off of your bed, striding over to your door. “Get out.” 
“We’re not done talking about this.” 
“Yes, we are. Get out.” 
“We’re not done until—” 
“We’re done when I say we’re done!” You began to yank your door open. Harvey was across your small space in a moment, palm flat against the door as he shoved it shut behind you. 
“And what the hell gives you the right to decide that?” 
“Because it’s my turn!” You barked. “I get to decide when we’re done now.” 
“It stopped being your turn when you stormed out of my office.” 
“Then make the damn decision yourself and get the fuck out of my apartment!” 
“If you want to ruin that man’s career and your chances of getting anything that you want out of your divorce, you go right ahead.” 
“I am not going to fuck him, and I’m not going to get him disbarred, you ass.” 
“Good.” 
“And I deeply resent the implication that I’m so sex-starved and desperate that I’m willing to fuck anyone who gives me any goddamn attention.” 
“I did not—” 
“Yes, you did, you did the second you opened your mouth. By rights, if that’s your view of me, I should’ve tried to not only fuck Mike, but you, of all people.” 
“I never implied that you were sex starved, but if you were, you could do a lot worse than Mike—” 
“Oh, really—” 
“And a helluva lot worse than me.” 
“Oh, please! There is no way that I could do worse than you. There are dictators that I’d sooner fall into bed with.” 
“If all you’re cutting out is the bed, I can work with the rest.” 
You could’ve slapped him. He was close enough, and you could just imagine it—the way the flush of red would look spreading across his cheek. 
“What makes you think I’d ever allow you anywhere near me again, Specter?” 
“I’m pretty damn close now.” He shifted closer, stopping as the tips of his shoes brushed your socked feet.
“Against your better judgment.” 
“You want to put me in my place, sweetheart, you go right ahead.” 
“Don't call me that.” 
“Why not.” 
“Don’t you dare call me that.” 
“Give me a good reason not to.” 
“You haven’t earned it back.” 
“Any idea of how I might do that?” 
You bit him. You grasped his tie, tugged him in, and sank your teeth into his lower lip. You expected an argument, but Harvey just groaned, grasping you by the hips and shoving you back against the door. You released his lip, groaning as he swept his tongue into your mouth. Your hand unwound from his tie, breath leaving you in harsh puffs as Harvey’s smearing kisses trailed down your jaw to your neck. You arched up into his touch as his hands slipped under your t-shirt, palming and squeezing whatever skin he could reach. You reached down, hands fumbling with nerves and heat as you worked off his belt. 
Every time your mind began to race, Harvey managed to quiet it, with his teasing tongue, and nipping teeth, and grasping fingers. For all of his big talk about getting David disbarred, Harvey suddenly seemed to not give a damn about his own career—
You whined as Harvey yanked down the cup of your bra, knuckles toying with your pebbling nipple. You palmed his hardening cock through the soft fabric of his trousers, thrilling in his moan, and the press of his hips up against your touch. His fingers snaked beneath the band of your sweatpants, sweeping against your clit before swiping slower. 
“You’re already so goddamn wet,” He growled, easing a finger into you. You pressed into his touch, gritting your teeth as he goaded: “You like pissing me off this much?” 
“Condom?”
“Left pocket.” 
You reached into his pocket, brushing against his cock as you drew out the foil packet. Why wasn’t it tucked somewhere discreet, like his wallet? You pushed the thought away as you ripped the foil packet open with your teeth. Harvey let go of you just long enough to shove his pants down around his thighs, then push your sweatpants. 
“Turn around.” 
You passed him the condom before doing as you were told, leaning heavily against the door. You expected a stretch, but slick heat pressed between your spread thighs. Your mouth dropped open in a moan, eyes squeezing shut as Harvey lapped and laved your slick, heated skin. You reached back, fingers scrabbling to grasp the neat coif of his hair. 
“Harvey, damnit,” You gasped. “Just fuck me already.” 
He groaned in dissent, giving your lips one more sucking kiss before straightening fully. You felt one palm smooth over to your thigh, and saw the other rest against the door as he eased into you. Your lips parted with a gentle whine at the pleasurable throb of his cock stretching you. You planted your hand on the door beside his, steadying yourself as you adjusted.
He didn’t give you long. Harvey drew back before his hips snapped sharply. You pressed your cheek to the door, skin growing clammy between the flimsy particleboard and the hot panting of your breath. The harsh slam of his hips forced your body uncomfortably against the door. You let your eyes slide closed as Harvey’s hands covered yours, drawing them just above your head as he intertwined your fingers. The door rattled in the frame with each thrust. You whimpered as Harvey pressed his face into your neck, felt his hot breath and the rumble of his groans against your skin. 
Your thighs ached, and your heart pounded, and your cunt throbbed, and goddamn it felt so fucking good. 
The swell of your orgasm rose and crested sharply, and you didn’t bother to hide the shuddering of your moan, your grip tightening on Harvey's hands. He followed close behind, hips pounding and juddering before he slowed. The two of you stood still for a few long moments, listening to one another’s panting and coming down. Harvey carefully extricated your hands from yours, drawing away and leaving you half-bare and chilly against the door.
“...I need a beer,” Harvey muttered, voice hoarse.
“You left one on the counter.” 
“You want one?” 
“Yeah.” 
You reach down, tugging up your sweatpants as you gently peel yourself back from the door. 
“It’s probably going to be lukewarm,” Harvey warned.
“I don’t care.” You drew in a shaky breath as you walked back toward your bed. You’d already sworn that you wouldn’t let him into it. You lowered yourself to sit beside it, looking at the door as the swirl of confused thoughts shifted back to the fore. You watched Harvey tie off the condom and drop it into your trash bin. You tracked his movement—from cleaning up, to doing up his pants, to washing his hands. You didn’t bother to hide your open speculation as he opened another beer, then took the two up. You drew your legs together, biting your lip as your slick cunt pulsed.
Harvey lowered himself to sit beside you, holding a beer out and lightly knocking his against yours before you each took a drink. You winced a little at the taste. You should’ve listened to him—the taste of lukewarm beer was not appetizing. You saw Harvey reach up out of the corner of your eye as he loosened his tie. 
“...What was that about getting someone disbarred?” 
“Shuddup.” There was no heat to how he said it, and that was probably why it made you snort a laugh. 
“Harvey?” 
“What.” 
“Did you come over planning to fuck me?” 
“What?” 
“Why was there a condom in your pocket?” 
“I had a date.” 
Your brow furrowed as you took that in. 
“...When?”
“Tonight.” 
“Why aren’t you there?” 
“Because I’m here.” 
Harvey Specter broke a date. Harvey Specter broke a date for you. You leaned back against the bed again, biting the inside of your cheek to quell a wide grin. 
“Don’t read into it,” He added. 
“I’m not reading into anything…Apart from the fact that you seemed pretty sure you were going to get laid.” 
“I was.” 
“Arrange for that, did you?” 
“No need to arrange anything. I’m just good like that.” 
“Well. Can’t argue with that. For the record—” 
“What.” 
“You really have no say over who I do and don’t fuck.” 
“I know.” 
“Good.” 
“...You going to the Hamptons next weekend?” 
“Yeah.” “How are you getting up there?” 
“I was going to take the train.”
“I could give you a ride.” 
“You already have.” You cast Harvey a knowing smile, grin widening as he shot you a sidelong, unimpressed glance. Your smile turned to giggles as Harvey seemed to smile in spite of himself. 
“You really think we could stand to be in the car with one another for more than twenty minutes?” You prodded. 
“If not, we could always pull over and work out our differences.” 
“Pfft. No other weekend plans?” 
“Nope.” 
“Didn’t promise a rain check?” 
“Didn’t specify when it might happen.” 
“Mm. And why would you want to come with me?” 
“Steven could be watching those properties, waiting for you to turn up. You could benefit from having back up.” 
“You make it sound terribly sinister. Have you figured out how to bill Gstaad yet?” 
“I’m working on it.”
“Keep me updated.” 
“Sure.” 
“I don’t mean for, you know—I don’t want a vacation.”
“You’ve earned one.” 
“Whatever, I just don’t like to put something on the market without doing a walk-through myself.” 
“I understand.” 
You leaned back against the bed a little more heavily, gaze wandering toward the door, where a little bit of your makeup was smeared from the press of your cheek. 
“...Harvey?”
“Mm?” 
“Can we talk about it?” 
“The sex or the other thing?” 
“The other thing.” 
“I’ve already had one fight with you today. I don’t think I have the capacity for two...Do you?”
You shook your head. 
“Some other time,” He promised. 
“Sure.” 
-- 
You had seen the paperwork and the inspector’s notes, but to see the house in the Hamptons was a whole other story. The long gravel driveway was lined with a horse fence on the left, and a plain wood fence on the right. You didn’t bother to hide your open, stunned stares as you passed the stables. It was hardly the first time you’d seen a home like it, but it was unfathomable that Steven seemed to have not only put the house in your name, but completely forgotten about it. 
Harvey pulled the car into the neatly manicured lot. 
“Do you want to start in the stables, the house, the pool, the tennis court…?” He shut the car off, waiting for your reply. You shook your head. 
“I only care about the house,” You admitted. 
“So we won’t be walking the expansive lawns? I brought my sneakers.” 
“Do I even want to know how expensive those sneakers are?” 
“They’re worth more than your apartment.” 
“I’m willing to believe that.” You climbed out of the car, eyeing the inspector’s report as you rounded toward the front steps. You turned from the paperwork to take in the house’s appearance more clearly. It was…Ugly. The large, L-shaped, gray-brick building had the modernistic development of the fast-casual apartment buildings in the city, with some of the gauche touches of your penthouse, like the expansive floor-to-ceiling covering nearly the entirety of the bottom of the floor. You could see a balcony on the left side of the house, and another around the other end of the L. 
“...This is different.” 
“It’s criminal,” You muttered. 
“Are you saying that because he forged your signature, or because it’s ugly as sin?” 
“Both. Come on.” 
You walked up to the front door, punching in the code that the realtor had given you to get the door open. 
The foyer was as flat and uninspired as the outside of the house—white marble floors, grey walls, and sterling silver furnishings. You grimaced as you looked around. 
“Are we doing a complete walk through of this millennial grey gulag?”
“If you’re going to hate it, you can wait in the car,” You offered, glancing toward Harvey. “Apparently there are fifteen bedrooms and nine bathrooms, and I don’t know how much of your cute commentary I can deal with today.” 
“Seemed to handle it fine in the car.” Harvey turned left before you could say or do anything else, and you followed him, looking down at the property’s map. 
“This place oughta have one of those fricking mall maps with a star labeled ‘You Are Here’,” You grumbled. 
“Now who’s making cute comments.” 
– 
“My feet hurt,” You groaned, plopping onto a boxy, stiff-cushioned couch. 
“You’d think after the last couple of months of living in that walk-up, you’d be in better shape.”
“You’d think.”
“It’s all those cheese fries.”
“Oh—shut up.” 
“So, what do you think?”
“I think we throw it on the market for 18 million and I forget that it ever existed.”
“Why list it in your name, though?”
You shrugged, looking around. “Maybe it was in both our names when he bought it and the outcome was such a disaster he decided to leave my name on it. I think he designed it.”
“Really?” Harvey’s brows rose as he looked around. 
“Oh, god yeah. Steven can be smart, but he’s never really had any design sense. I wound up taking charge on some of our early flip projects because he just didn’t have the eye for it. He always tried, but I kinda wound up following behind and fixing his messes. If I had to guess, he bought this place to show me that he really could do it, and he just…Can’t.”
“Do you think Cape Cod and Gstaad will be the same?” 
“Doubtful. The report for Cape Cod said that the house was originally built in 1950…what. Four?”
“Something like that.” 
“It looks like he gutted it like he did the apartment buildings and realized how much of a project it would be. Gave up on it.” 
“And Gstaad?” 
“Work out how to expense the trip and we can talk.”
Harvey chuckled, wandering closer. “Should we christen it?”
“Christen what?”
“This house.”
“How?”
Harvey’s brows waggled salaciously, and you laughed, pushing yourself off of the couch. “Oh no, Specter. No way—”
“Why not?”
“You wanna christen every room? You don’t have the stamina for that—And I don’t have the patience.” 
“What about just in here?” He curled his arm around your waist, drawing you closer. “On that stupid couch, over the piano…How about up against the windows?” His voice dropped to a murmur. “There’s no one around for miles.” 
You rolled your eyes despite your amusement. 
“If you said that with the Kubrick stare, I’d think you were going all Jack Torrence on me.”
“Heeeeeeeere’s Harvey.”
“Ugh! God, let’s just go,” You pushed out of Harvey’s arms, heading for the door. “It’s kinda creepy being here, you know. Like Steven’s watching.” 
“The house can’t be haunted, he’s not dead.” 
“He is to me.”
“When are you planning on going to Cape Cod?” 
“Mm…Probably next week.”
“Driving up?”
“Taking the train.”
“Again with the train.” 
“I don’t have a car and I’m not going to rent one.”
“Are you staying overnight?”
“No.”
“You’re going to go up and back on the train in one day? That is a long day.”
“I can handle it.” 
“You’d be more comfortable in a car.” 
“Yeah, obviously—Eyes on the road, Specter.” You reached out, poking his cheek as he glanced over at you. He batted your hand away lazily before turning back to the road. 
“Why do you always insist on doing things in the most difficult way possible?”
“Because in most cases, the most difficult choice is also the most cost-effective. Efficiencies can be cruel, Harvey.”
“Cruel is an understatement.” 
“I can handle a day on the train.”
“If you say so.” 
“I do say so, thank you.” 
“Stubborn.” 
“...Do you wanna come up when we get back to my place?”
“What for?” 
You tipped your head to the side, waiting for Harvey to glance over before you teasingly waggled your brows.
“Oh, so now you want to?” 
“I wanted to then! But I couldn’t do it if I felt Steven looming over me. C’mon, Specter,” You reached out, gently teasing your nails along the back of his neck, and grinning as he shifted slightly in his seat. “See if you can get me any more out of breath than walking up six flights of stairs.” 
--  
“Hey, there you are! Jessica needs to—What’s that face for?” Mike’s concern fell away at the sight of Harvey’s self-satisfied smile as he stepped off of the elevator. Harvey gave a dismissive shrug. What the hell was he going to tell Mike? That he’d spent the weekend somewhere other than his place? That he had fallen asleep with her, and remembered how serene it used to be to wake up with her? That they’d hardly left her cruddy apartment—hell, they’d hardly left her bed? 
“Nothing. What were you saying?” 
“Jessica needs to see you.” 
“Right now?” 
No sooner had the words left his mouth did Jessica step out from around the corner, drawing him up short. 
“Yes,” She insisted firmly. “Right now.” 
Harvey had the strange sense of a child being marched to the principal as she led her way to her office. She shut the door behind the two of them, striding past him to her desk. 
“Can this wait?” Harvey hedged. “I’ve got coffee going cold on my desk.” 
“Well then, I’ll make this quick. Did you have a nice time this weekend?"
That should've been his warning. It was a solid leading question, and one that, on any other Monday, he would not have hesitated to answer. His eyes narrowed slightly, before he decided—Yes, she must have known that he drove to the Hamptons. Someone would have told Jessica: Mike was still in the habit of offering updates when he thought they would be helpful.
"Yes," He finally answered.
"Was it a productive trip?"
A second warning. Jessica was a strategist, and Harvey knew that any lawyer worth a damn didn't ask a question that they didn't already know the answer to. Still, he chose a carefully middle-of-the-road answer:
"She was happy to go through the home herself, set a listing price. Hopefully we can get it on the market and on its way as soon as possible.”
Jessica took that in thoughtfully, lips set in a placid smile.
"Were there any outstanding features?"
A third and final warning, but Harvey couldn't help but lean into it:
"Are we talking about the tennis court, the pool, the stables, or the thousand lawns?"
Jessica let out a tepid, flatly amused, "Hm," Before beckoning him closer. "Well if those all caught your eye, it would explain why you missed the cameras."
Harvey froze in his step, blood running cold. There was no way—Cameras? His gaze dropped to the laptop that she turned to face him. The black and white footage was grainy, but clear enough. Harvey watched as he wrapped his arm around her, drawing her into his chest. He could still feel the heat of her body, and the plush slide of her sweater beneath his fingers. He could see the gentle, adoring way that she gazed up at him before she nudged him away, leading the charge out of the house. 
‘It’s kinda creepy being here, you know. Like Steven’s watching.’ He didn’t know how, but she had felt it. 
"Where did that come from."
"I'll give you three guesses."
"Let me explain—"
"Explain what!" Jessica slammed the laptop closed, rounding the desk with self-righteous strides. "Explain what idiotic idea led to you putting on a show?"
"We didn't know that there were cameras."
"How long has this been going on?"
"We only went to see that one house."
Jessica's expression darkened as she shook her head.
"Don't play dumb with me, Harvey," She warned lowly. "How long have you been sleeping with her."
It hit him low in the gut. For a moment, he was too stunned to speak.
"She told you?"
"No, she didn't tell me. She didn't have to. It'll be plain as day to anyone who sees that footage."
"That’s not true, we were just—"
"Just what?"
"I was teasing her! It didn't mean anything."
"If I call and ask her, she'll say the same thing?"
He was certain of it. "Yes."
"Would she swear to it under oath? At a deposition? In court?"
His surety faltered, and his mouth worked wordlessly before he pursed his lips tightly. Jessica shook her head again.
"I am not the only one with access to this. Luckily for you—for both of you—she still has a friend or two on the inside. Aaron Delaney sent this to me before he deleted the original. He works closely with Steven, and has access to a few property accounts. He got an alert on his phone that someone had used the keypad to open the door."
"Has Steven seen it?"
"He isn't sure, but I'm not willing to take that chance. Louis will be taking over the Hayward case, and Mike will be assisting him."
"No, Jessica, that's not happening."
"It is, because I'm telling you that it is. You should be relieved. You never wanted it in the first place."
"Things are different now."
"You're damn right they are! What the hell were you thinking? Both of you?"
"Let me see this case through."
"If you see this through and Hayward does have access to this footage, you could be disbarred. You're going to hand the files over to Louis by the end of the day. He is expecting them. Mike will bring him up to speed and assist him until this mess is cleared up."
Harvey lowered his gaze to the floor as Jessica stepped around him, opening the door and waiting beside it. He curled his hands into fists in his pockets as he strode resignedly from the office.
"And so help you," Jessica warned as he passed, "If I hear that you are holding Louis up in any way."
Harvey only made it a few feet from the office before he pulled his phone out of his pocket, hurriedly dialing her number. It rang once...Twice...Three times...And went to voicemail.
"Damnit," He hissed, lowering the phone to redial. "C'mon, c'mon..." It rang once, "Pick up." Twice...
"Hey you."
"Where are you?"
"What do you mean?" She laughed, "I'm on my way to see Jessica for our check-in."
Fuck.
"How close are you?"
"I just got off of the elevator. Why?"
Harvey whirled around, eyes desperately searching for her through the gaggle of associates, paralegals, and lawyers going about their business.
"She knows."
"What?"
He could hear her frown. Harvey took three steps toward the elevator bay before he saw her come into view—and lock eyes with Jessica. He saw her body go tense, before her shoulders sagged with dejection.
"Oh."
"Yeah."
"Hell," She sighed before hanging up.
--
"I'm not going to even begin to approach what you may have been thinking—"
"Jessica—"
"—Putting not only your future, Harvey’s future, and the future of this firm in jeopardy."
"I wasn't thinking."
"Clearly."
"We didn't even do anything at the house!"
"That doesn't make the slightest bit of difference."
You slid down in your seat as Jessica paced in front of you, her pace and turn reminiscent of a caged tiger.
"I did you a favor and this is how you repay me?" She finally stilled, nailing you with a cold gaze. You folded further under the crush of her look, so similar to the disbelief that she had leveled you with at her apartment not too long ago.
"I'm sorry."
"You should be." Jessica strode around her desk. "Your case has been reassigned to Louis Litt. Mike will stay on, provided you haven't fucked him, too."
Christ. "I made a mistake, alright? I told you I was sorry, and I meant it," You insisted. "Don't bring Mike into this when he hasn't done anything wrong."
Jessica bristled as she lowered herself into her seat.
"I don't want you associating with Harvey until this is over."
"Oh—Come on."
"If this footage were to come out, Harvey's conduct and ethics will be called into question. He'll be dragged into your divorce proceedings. Is that what you want?"
Your stomach churned uneasily as you considered it. You knew she was right. You shook your head a little, trying desperately to swallow past the lump that was forming in your dry throat.
"Louis and Mike will be in touch."
"Okay." You turned, heading for her office door, and stopping just before you opened it.
"...Is now a bad time to remind you that bringing Harvey onto my case was your idea?"
The chilling glare that she leveled with answered for her: Yes. It was a very bad time to remind her.
--
“You slept with—” 
“Shut the door and keep your voice down,” Harvey warned stonily. Before either of them could move toward his office door, Donna hurried into view, reaching for the handle. 
“You don’t wanna hear this?” Mike’s brows rose. “You of all people?” 
Donna waved him away, offering, “Intercom,” Before she shut the door. Harvey sighed heavily, lowering himself into his chair. 
“What happened?” Mike stepped closer to the desk. “I’m just—You two hate each other.” 
“Thank you for the reminder. I forgot about that.” 
“Harvey, c’mon,” Mike shook his head as he tried (and failed) to keep from smiling. “What happened?” 
“I went over to hang out.” 
“At her apartment?” 
“Yeah.” 
“Okay, and? Instead of hanging out you…Let it all hang out?” 
“Get out of my office.”
“If that was at her apartment, what happened in the Hamptons?” 
“Nothing happened in the Hamptons. The footage just…We got close, that’s all.” 
“That’s not enough to disbar you.” 
“Because you’re the expert on being disbarred? It’s enough to call my ethics into question…And Jessica’s right, no one needs that headache right now.”  
“So I’m stuck with Louis because you got close? Where’s the Specter spirit? No way are you going to watch this one from the sidelines.” 
On any other case, no, he wouldn’t. Harvey would insist on backseat driving. But on this one…He grimaced, dropping his gaze to his desk. 
“I want regular updates,” He insisted. “That’s all.” 
Mike nodded slowly, conceding: “Okay. But I’ll be ready when you change your mind.” 
-- 
"I'll come over."
He sounded so positive about it—like nothing had happened, or changed. You eyed the remaining trash bags, trying to scrounge up the conviction of an excuse. 
"I don't think that's a good idea right now."
"Why not?"
You know why. You shifted your phone from one hand to the other, tucking it between your shoulder and your ear as you reached out, gripping a bag to make it crinkle loudly.
"I've still got some sorting to do."
"I'll help you."
"Not tonight, Harvey."
"...She's not in charge of us, you know."
You tipped your head back against your wall, closing your eyes. "She's actually very much in charge of you."
"At work."
"I know, but I just..." You winced. "I think she's right. We should lay low for a while. If Steven did see that video before Aaron sent it to Jessica, we're both going to have a whole new mess that we're stepping into."
"I'm ready for it."
"...I don't know if I am."
His silence on the other end made you want to crawl out of your skin. "I can only fight one battle at a time, Harvey—And right now, I'm barely managing the big ones."
"Fine."
You knew that fine coming from him. It wasn't fine. It was I'm shutting down. It was I'm finished with this conversation. It was I'm finished with you.
"Harvey—"
You lowered the phone from your ear as the line cut off, watching the inevitable flashing and darkening of his contact. You bit the inside of your cheek, fighting back a fresh wave of tears. How, after all this time, was Harvey Specter still able to make you cry?
-- 
You became solitary again. Life narrowed. You saw Aaron a time or two, but he was so busy either working or gathering intel that you were hardly able to keep up with him. For as much of a lifeline as she had been, Jessica was still pissed, and you hardly spoke more than you needed to. Mike was a dear, checking in to see how you were doing, but most correspondence led inevitably to discussing closings, proceedings, contracts (and you couldn’t blame him for it; he was only doing his job). 
Louis was…A lot. He was very eager, that was clear, and had been working hard to push the sales of the apartment buildings and the home in the Hamptons through. David and his firm were digging into discovery, and were making headway. 
But you had so little life outside of your divorce. Most of your pieces were sold off, so you hardly had any day-to-day tasks to keep you busy—and everything in New York was so goddamn expensive. It felt like you spent $50 just stepping out your front door. There were days when you simply didn’t. It was cheaper to stay in, and quieter (so long as your neighbors didn’t have a screaming match that day).
Your life was four walls, a cruddy bed, rickety furniture. You spent too much time awake when you should’ve been sleeping; too much time reminiscing when you should have been moving on; too much time dwelling on the time that you spent with men in your life that probably wouldn’t spare you another thought. 
--  
Walking back into the firm was uncomfortable. You’d avoided it for as long as you could, but Mike insisted that there were a few documents that absolutely had to be seen and signed in the office. You’d made it an entire three weeks without so much as getting anywhere near the building. You found yourself avoiding even glancing in the direction of Jessica’s office. It was alright, though—Donna was a smiling, comforting presence the second you stepped off of the elevator. 
“Find the place alright?” She teased. 
“I did, thank you. I’ve only been here a dozen times in the last couple of months.” 
“It’s been a few weeks. We thought you’d forgotten where we were.” 
You smiled tightly. You were certain that she knew everything that had gone on—she was the eyes and ears of the place. 
“You know, it’s the funniest thing,” You drawled sarcastically, “I kept coming to the right building and getting off on the wrong floor.” 
“Happens to the best of us. C’mon.” 
You frowned as she led you away from the usual conference rooms, and even further away from Louis’ office. You couldn’t imagine where the heck she was taking you—and your confusion deepened as she opened the door to a room lined with files. She nodded you inside, a knowing smile on her lips as she warned: 
“Two minutes.” 
Two minutes? Until what?
“Thanks, Donna.” Harvey’s voice made you freeze, and you could do nothing but watch Donna close the door behind herself. You looked down at the floor, your hands wringing as you heard Harvey come closer. You felt him stop close behind you, close enough to feel the heat of him.
“...Are you going to look at me?” He hedged softly. 
“No need. I know what you look like.” 
He sighed softly, stepping around to stand in front of you. You watched as his shoes and pant legs came into view. 
“...And you’re just going to look at my shoes now?” 
“They’re nice shoes. Look expensive.” 
“They are.” 
“Figures.” 
“I’m sorry.” 
You looked at him fully, finally, stunned. You were surprised at how drawn he looked. Sure, his suit was impeccable, and his hair was frustratingly perfect, but you could see tiredness around his eyes. 
“You’re going through hell right now,” Harvey went on, “You don’t need me to pile on to that. I shouldn’t have snapped at you.” 
You nodded slowly as you took it all in. “Well. We should never have, um…” You cleared your throat, averting your gaze again. “It was stupid.” 
“You regret it?” 
“It’s not worth risking your career over.” 
“That’s not what I asked.” Harvey closed the space between the two of you, and you had to force yourself not to lean into him the way you wanted—the way you’d missed for weeks. 
“Harvey,” You warned softly. “I can’t keep playing tug of war with you like this. I’m already at the end of my damn rope.” 
“I know.” 
You closed your eyes at the feeling of his palms sliding warmly over your arms, trailing down until he could gently intertwine your fingers. 
“I’ll be on my best behavior,” He promised, “Until we’re on the other side of this, and your business with the firm is closed out.” 
“And then what?” 
“And then I’ll give you hell.” You spluttered a laugh, unable to help it. Harvey chuckled softly, his nose nudging yours gently. 
“I should go,” You warned softly. “Louis will come looking for me.” 
“Donna will keep him at bay.” 
“She said two minutes. It’s been at least three—” You hardly had time to finish your protestation before Harvey kissed you. You swayed into him, lips slipping tenderly against his as he used his grasp to draw you flush against him. You wiggled your hands from his, curling your arms around his shoulders to keep close. You startled at the two knocks on the door, and smiled as Harvey groaned in irritation. 
“I should let you go,” He mumbled. You nodded, murmured,
“Probably.” 
But neither of you rushed to move. 
-- 
“I'm sorry to see you go. I've enjoyed our time together."
You sort of believed it, given the pinched, almost pained look that Louis leveled you across the desk. And, for all of your work with him over the last three months, you'd gained a sort of affinity for the man...Even if he was a little intense in a way that sometimes confused you. You smiled, taking up the final few documents that you would need for your record.
"I appreciate that, and thank you for all of your hard work, Mr. Litt. It's been..." You weighed your words carefully, "Interesting."
"For me, too. Reach out if you need anything else—doc review, mover recommendations, tickets to the ballet. Anything."
"Tickets to the ballet? I'm impressed." You held your hand out, smiling as he stood and pumped it enthusiastically. "Thank you again."
You were hardly four steps out of Louis' office when you found yourself flanked in the hallway.
"We should celebrate," Harvey insisted.
"And how would we do that?"
"Dinner at La Belle Vache."
Your brows rose as you glanced toward Mike.
"’The beautiful cow’?"
"Harvey's idea."
"With a restaurant name like that, it would have to be."
"Hey, that is not fair! I could be posh."
"It wouldn't suit you, Mr. Ross."
"Is that a yes or a no to dinner?" Harvey plied.
"When?"
"You busy tonight?"
"If I told you I had plans, would you believe me?"
"Not for a second."
"Well, I do."
"Cancel 'em."
"It's with my divorce lawyer."
"And here feels like a good stopping point for me." Mike wheeled around, striding back in the direction that he came.
"What the hell does David want with you after hours?" 
"Deposition starts next week. We're drilling testimony."
"As long as that's all he's drilling."
"Watch it, Specter." You reached out, jabbing the down button on the elevator before turning back to Harvey. He pouted contemplatively before offering: "What about this weekend?"
"I think I could swing this weekend. Is dinner on the firm?"
"It's on me."
"Do you think..." You trailed off, glancing toward Jessica's office, "That the powers that be will approve?"
"Honestly?" Harvey lowered his voice,"I don't give a damn. It's been months. Your business here is wrapped. If Jessica wants to give me a good reason why I can't see you, she's welcome to try—but it won't work."
You bit the inside of your cheek to quell a smile as you reached out, gently straightening Harvey's tie.
"Very forceful, Mr. Specter."
"You like it?"
"It's kinda hot." You turned back and stepped onto the elevator as it chimed.
"This weekend," You finally agreed. "Invite Mike—He's earned several dinners."
"He sure has."
The doors began to close, but Harvey darted in, catching them before they could shut all the way. He darted in, pressing a swift, warm kiss to your lips before he drew away again. You grinned as he stepped back, allowing the doors to close.
--
"As long as that's all he's drilling."
The memory of Harvey's teasing warning was on your mind throughout your time with David, and you found yourself fighting back smiles all evening.
"Do you have any plans for the weekend?"
David watched you from beneath his lashes as he asked, and where that look had intrigued you once, you knew better. You gave a short, firm nod, and insisted: "I have a date."
Your battle with Steven was far from over. You still had forgery cases pending, and your divorce case had hardly begun. But things felt a little lighter these days.
You had a direction, you had cash flow...But you didn't quite have the plan that you once did. You had told Harvey months ago that you were considering moving to Cambridge. It hadn’t completely ceased to be true, but it wasn’t your only consideration anymore. 
There were moments when you could see the glimmer of a life to carve out for yourself: a smaller real estate firm with a few employees—maybe Aaron, if you could lure him away from Steven; a more comfortable apartment than where you were now, but you could live with where you were for a few more months as you got things in order; and, at the very least, a friendship with Harvey. You didn’t know if what the two of you were doing would be sustainable, and you weren’t sure whether either of you really wanted to know—but after all this time, you thought that maybe the two of you deserved another chance. 
--  
“Impressed?” 
It was a fair question, but you were doing your best to school your expression. You didn’t want Harvey to know outright how much you did like his apartment. It was nothing less than you expected—large (though not quite in the palatial way that your old penthouse was), tastefully decorated, with a gorgeous view. You knew why Harvey had brought you up, of course, but now he was just showing off. 
Dinner had been its own round of grandstanding. You and Mike had watched, bemused, as Harvey had gone out of his way to pronounce all of the dishes in a French accent to the clearly not French (but feigning awe) waiter (who you were sure had to deal with this multiple times a day). Harvey had also taught you and Mike a thing or two about wine—or he had tried to, until Mike seemed no longer able to help himself and corrected Harvey on multiple facts about the Rhône valley in the south of France. 
It had been a far more pleasant evening that you had expected to have, and far more jovial than you’d had in a long time. Mike and Harvey were close; you and Harvey had a history; you and Mike had become friends over the course of your time working with him. When Mike had insisted that you all had to do this again sometime, you believed that he meant it. And when Harvey had invited you both up for a nightcap, Mike had politely declined with a smile and a shake of his head, offering:
“I think I should let you two have some time to do…Whatever it is that you need to do.” 
You hadn’t been entirely sure what he’d meant, or what Harvey had told him. You were almost certain that he would’ve been told why Harvey had been taken off of your case in the first place. And sure, now and again, over dinner, you and Harvey had caught one another’s eye, maybe shared a smile. Maybe he’d rested his hand on your knee a time or two, given it a squeeze—because he could. Because the two of you were close and on even footing for the first time in a while. 
“It’s…” You trailed off, shrugging. “Certainly an apartment.” 
“Oh, please,” Harvey scoffed, taking two wine glasses down from the cabinet. “You’re impressed.” 
“It’s nicer than I thought it would be.” 
“You’re dazzled.” 
“I like the kitchen.” 
“You’re helplessly turned on.” 
“‘Helplessly’ is pushing it.” 
“So you admit that you’re turned on?” 
You rolled your eyes, no longer bothering to fight your smile off. 
“Maybe,” You offered, settling onto the couch and kicking off your shoes. Harvey joined you moments later, passing you a glass of wine and gently clinking his against yours before you each took sips. His gaze remained heavy on yours, and he leaned in for a gentle kiss as soon as you lowered your glass. You hummed, raising a hand and cupping his jaw. You leaned back just a touch, smiling as he crowded closer, dipping his head to brush kisses along your neck as his warm palm gently smoothed up your thigh. 
“...Harvey?” 
“Sure, I can show you the bedroom.” 
You laughed softly, shaking your head a little. “Can we talk about it?” 
He groaned, forehead dropping heavily against your shoulder. “Why do you always insist on ruining a perfectly good time?” 
“Like when?”
“Like when we were in the Hamptons.” 
“You thank your lucky fucking stars that I put a stop to that.” 
“Yeah,” He grumbled, leaning back. You watched him swirl his wine in his glass. 
“Please,” You pleaded softly. 
“...I didn’t write the note.” 
Fuck. 
“Okay.” 
“I wrote a note, but…Not that one.” 
“Who wrote that one?” 
“Scottie.” 
“...Okay.” 
“I couldn’t find the one I’d written, she insisted that I couldn’t leave you with nothing.” 
“Well, she was right.” 
“Yeah.” 
You that that sink in for a moment before you pressed: “Why did you leave?”
“I had doubts.” 
“About me?” 
“About us. You know how my parents were, you know…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “You know what I saw.” 
“And you thought I would do that to you?” 
“I was afraid of it.” 
“If you were afraid of it, then you thought I was capable of it.” 
“—And when you got married to Steven so quickly—” 
“Oh—!” The heavy, stunned, indignant laugh was pained as it left you. You pushed off of the couch, standing and walking out of Harvey’s reach. You heard him sigh heavily behind you, chased by the clink of him setting his wine glass down as he muttered, “This is why I didn’t want to talk about this.” 
“Do you know why I got married so quickly?” You whirled around to face him. 
“Because you loved Steven?” 
“I never said that. I thought I loved him a bit, sure, but I was afraid that this,” You waved a finger between the two of you, “Would happen again. I thought he would leave. I was afraid that I would spend my entire life being left. So when Steven showed me the slightest bit of attention, I latched on. We eloped. He wanted a big wedding, but I just,” You waved your hand around, “I couldn’t do that a second time. Any of it. I didn’t get a new dress, neither of our families were there, because I knew that they would all watch me, and him, and they’d be thinking it: Is it going to happen again?” 
“You’re saying your entire life with Steven was my fault?” 
“I’m saying that I made a choice, and that what happened with you was a factor—Not a fault, a factor. And why!” You let out another harsh hysterical laugh as tears welled in your eyes, “Why didn’t you just talk to me? What did I do then to make you think that you couldn’t talk to me?”
“I wasn’t ready!” 
“And we could have talked about that! What made you think that I wouldn’t have been alright with moving the wedding back, or going to counseling with you, or whatever you would have needed to get us there?”
“You wanted to get married.”
“I wanted you, Harvey! I would have waited, I—” You turned away, sniffling heavily as tears slipped from your eyes. “Fuck. Ugh.” You raised your glass, draining it before striding over the counter, desperate to put some more distance between the two of you. You set the glass down and yanked a paper towel off of the roll, swiping at your under eyes to clear away any running mascara. You blew your nose as well before balling up the tissue and lobbing it toward the trash can. You heard Harvey’s approaching footsteps, and you pulled in a deep, stuttering breath as he rested his hands on your shoulders. 
“...There’s no way for me to take back or change what I did.” 
“Would you if you could?” 
“Yes.”
“...Okay.” 
“Do you believe me?” 
“I don’t know.” 
He sighed, pressing a kiss to the back of your head as his hands soothingly rubbed over your arms. You sniffled again, swiping away a stray tear before resting your hands on the counter. 
“You changed the way that I love, Harvey,” You shook your head. “For better or worse, whether you meant to or not, you changed it.” You glanced back toward him. “I can’t get those bits of myself back. You took them from me.” 
“I know. I took them from both of us.” 
You nodded, slowly letting yourself lean back against him. His arms curled around your middle, and you heard a soft, almost relieved groan leave him. You let your eyes close as he pressed a kiss to your temple. The two of you stood there in silence for a few moments, allowing yourselves to settle. 
“...Stay tonight?” He murmured after a few moments. You nodded, smiling as his hold tightened on you again, as if wary that you would change your mind. 
-- 
He had a few more smile lines. His hair still mussed the same; he still made little mumbling noises as he slowly rose from sleep to consciousness. He was still a furnace to sleep beside, and he still held you through the night. It was almost a relief that none of that had changed. 
Waking up in his arms made you feel like it had when you were younger: safe, and loved, and wanted. You hadn't appreciated it when you'd had it just a few months ago, but you were desperate to catch on to every little bit of him now.
You were never going to be able to turn back the hands of time—to go back and warn him, or yourself, or someone that your first wedding day would be a disaster, that it would set you off on a path that you could never have anticipated for yourself. Discussing what had happened hadn't truly healed any of your old wounds.
But as the sun began to creep over the Manhattan skyline and seep into Harvey’s bedroom, you felt closer to peace than you had in a long, long time. 
Harvey snuffled, nuzzling your shoulder as his fingers curled in your borrowed nightshirt. 
“You awake?” He mumbled, the same low, gravely murmur that you had once loved, and missed. 
“Mmmhm.” 
“Want coffee?” 
“Yes.” 
He yawned widely, pressing his face into your shoulder and warming your skin through the fabric. “Bagels?” 
“Sure.” 
“‘Kay.” 
Neither of you made a move to get either. Instead, you combed your fingers through his hair, closed your eyes, and listened to the steady rise and fall of his breathing as you both fell back asleep. 
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monstersflashlight · 5 months
Note
I am very fond of your writing and have a somewhat unique request.
Could you write something with a fem sub werewolf who is really butch and tuff and sort of bratty in her human for a but turns Into a puppy when she well. . . Turns.
I totally get it if this isn't your stile but I thought the power dynamic could be fun.
Regardless be well and drink water. < 3
Thank you for your kind words! It means the world. I hope this is somewhat close to what you expected, I tried my best. It was really fun to write, I love power dynamics and bratty subs (and butch fems, especially the muscular ones).
Fem!Werewolf x Non-gendered human || dom/sub dynamic, power play, spanking
Pack nights were long and tiring, and you hated to show up just to be listening to a bunch of men trying to see who had it longer (metaphorically). But your girlfriend? She loved it. She fitted right in between them, she gained the respect of them all, the bulging muscles, the posture, the way she talked around them.
You couldn’t blame them, you fell for her because of those reasons too. She was just so… big. So muscular. She could lift you with one arm if she wanted, but did she? No, she didn’t. In public she was this big personality that overpowered everyone, but in private? In private she was just bratty. She loved to push your buttons and tease you. And then she transformed and became nothing but a needy little pet for you to play with. Nobody knew, though. Just you.
And today wasn’t different. She started slow, making remarks about the way you made lunch. Making jokes about the way she looked even though she knew you hated when she tried to make fun of herself. Coming home from the gym all sweaty and panting, but denying you when you followed her to the shower, excusing herself because you two had to leave soon. And then she had the audacity to put on that fucking gray sweatpants you loved, how low they fell down her hips, how her abs were framed by the elastic of the pants. You loved those fucking pants. But not in public. The sluttiness of those pants was just for you. And she knew that.
She got away with it, you couldn’t tell her to change if you were going to be on time. And to make it even worse, she winked at you, biting her lower lip as she passed you. That little shit. She knew what she was doing. And she was playing the big leagues at it. Teasing you on a professional level. She was pushing your buttons on purpose. Game on, you thought. You were competitive as fuck, and you weren’t gonna lose against your bratty girlfriend. Not a chance in hell. Before the night ended, she’ll be a needy mess under you.
You sat right beside her at the pack meeting, your lower half hidden under the table. Your hand started innocent enough, grabbing her muscular thigh as someone talked about some trade with other pack you didn’t care about. You could feel the power of her muscles under your hand, and the way she pushed her legs together as you tried to touch the inside of her thigh. You didn’t like that. The anger inside of you growing with each passing second. She was trying to deny you, again.
She wore the fucking sweatpants, she was annoying all day on purpose, and your blood was running hotter than normal. And now she dared to deny you access to her pussy? Oh no, she didn’t. You closed your mouth and waited, your hand never leaving her thigh. Your anger rising slowly as the meeting progressed.
When the two of you exited the building you were fuming, your adrenaline and anger mixing to create a ticking bomb inside of you. You made as far as the car before you were grabbing her short hair and pulling her towards you.
“You know what you were doing teasing me, didn’t you?” She whimpered, nodding shyly as you grabbed her chin with more force than needed. “Strip. Turn. And run.” You ordered, each word followed by a light pull of her hair. She nodded, stripping before you and leaving her clothes on the ground. You picked them up, throwing them inside the car as she ran in her half-turn form. You knew she wouldn’t go far, a chase wasn’t what she was looking for today. She wanted to be punished for her behaviour. She wanted to get pounded into the ground. She wanted to be dominated.
You waited for a bit, knowing full well she’d be panting even before you went after her. The woods surrounding the pack hall were dense, but you knew she would be by the clearing not too long from there. You followed the path, thinking how would be the best way to punish your bratty girlfriend.
You saw her, kneeling in the middle of the clearing, the moon over her like a caress, making her shine.
“Face down. Ass up.” You ordered, not touching her yet. She obeyed instantly, tail waggling behind her involuntary. Cute. You grabbed her tail without any caress, pulling a bit too hard and making her whimper. That fueled you, the game she was playing before long forgotten. She teased and teased, and now it was time for punishment.
“What a bratty slut, teasing me all night, and for what? You want your pussy pounded? You want to take my knot so far you see stars?” She could only whimper as you teased her needy cunt. She was velvety soft and wet, so, so wet. “So wet for me already. Don’t you have any smart remarks now, do you? You pushed all my buttons during the pack meeting, knowing full well what you were doing, weren’t you, pet?” She whimpered again, pushing her ass up to try push your fingers inside. You laughed at her neediness. “All that muscle, all that posturing for everyone to see and you are just a slutty, slutty pet. So ready to take it. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? For me to take you right here, in the open. Maybe somebody would see, maybe somebody would know how needy you really are.”
“Is this what you wanted? My hand against you?” Your fingers were circling her clit without any pressure, making her whimper and moan. She was squirming under you, every cell of her body vibrating with desire and pent up frustration.
“Yes, yes! Please!” Desperate groans were escaping her mouth as she tried to get more friction, pushing her ass up into your hand. You laughed again.
“You sound so pretty when you beg.” You took your hand away, caressing her inner thighs where her desire was dripping. You lowered down, lapping at her juices without getting close to where she wanted you the most. Marveling at her whine of protest. She was desperate and needy. But she wasn’t going to get the release she wanted. She spent the whole day proving your patience, and it ran out.
“Pleaseeee.” She begged over and over, her head moving against the grass as she tried to push back into your hand. So hot. You pressed against her clit one more time and then took your hand away from her soaked pussy, making her cry out and whine in two seconds.
She pushed her ass up again. “Oh no, pet. You teased me all day, and now I deserve some payback, don’t you think?” She was looking at you over her shoulder, her mouth open as she panted, her eyes shiny with unshod tears. You wanted those tears, they were yours to collect. “Be still.” You commanded. She whimpered softly. And then your hand made contact with the left cheek of her ass, making the perfect sound. Both of you groaned.
You continued spanking each cheek alternatively, making her squirm. Her ass looked so good marked by your hands, you wish you had your paddle with you, but that could wait. Next time. You kept going, knowing full well she could take it. Your handprint was visible against her cheeks, making you smile as her tears rolled down her face. “So pretty when you cry.” You murmured, she moaned. You keep hitting, massaging her abused ass every once in a while to make her squirm. You teased her core with your fingers, pushing the tip inside as she groaned. With each spank, her back arched and she let out a bunch of curses and swears, begging and pleading you to stop and to keep going. The sounds she was making were the best music you’d ever heard. She sounded wrecked, and you loved it.
And suddenly, her back arched impossibly as her body convulsed. “Did you come just from me spanking you? Oh yes, you did. So needy that you don’t even need my fingers to cum. Such a slutty, slutty pet that can come just from her ass getting spanked.” She flushed all over, trying to hide her mortification. Your tone was mocking as you saw her pussy gaping, all shiny and juicy, puffy after her release. You pushed your fingers inside to watch her try to get away, grabbing her tail back to stop her. You finger fucked the last tremors out of her, laughing as she cried out.
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ja3hwa · 1 year
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♡ 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟐 : 𝐕𝐨𝐲𝐞𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐦/𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 - 𝐊.𝐇𝐉 ♡
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Eyes On Me
【sʏɴᴏᴘsɪs】 : Biker Gang Leader, doesn't like sharing unless it's to do with his best friend.
『ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ』 :  740
-> ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: Suggestive. Angst. Biker/Criminal Au.
ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Biker!Hongjoong x Aristocrat!Reader
[ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs] : Mention of criminal activity. Shitty family. Father issues. Possessive tendencies. Lots of teasing. Swearing. Pet names. Ass grabbing. Mention of sex. Mention of masturbation. Dry humping. Slight clit play. Biting. Marking.
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You were a sunshine. A light in most people's lives and an innocent little ball of happiness. No one could ever except you getting mixed up with the infamous biker gang, Ateez. Especially getting caught up with the ruthless leader. And yet, how come you are sitting sweetly on his couch in his office while he finishes off a phone call he had to answer just moments after your mouth was prettily wrapped around his cock. To say he was annoyed would be an understatement but alas he needed to answer the call or he knew Seonghwa would bark at him for missing yet another important call with a business client all because he was too busy with you...
His little plaything. His secret doll.
You both knew the match was unlikely and that most people, especially your family, would disapprove of the relationship. But neither of you cared. In fact, it thrilled you to know the idea of your father being broken over the fact that his useless waste of space of a daughter was sleeping with the enemy. Loud music suddenly pooled into the quiet office as one of Hongjoong’s men came raring in, wanting his boss's attention.
“Sir, I…” His words caught in his throat when he noticed was not only interrupted his boss on a phone call but there was a very pretty woman in nothing but one of Hongjoong’s shirts, sitting so patiently on the couch in the corner of the room. You gave the young boy a smirk, his face already turning a bright shade of pink.
“What?” Your lover's voice grew rougher, almost possessive as he disapproves of the way the younger male was eye fucking your form. You quickly caught Hongjoong’s eyes, and your mind sparked an idea. You were going to give this other man a show. So you stood up without a second thought, letting the shirt ride up slightly, so he could get a good view of your black lace panties. Your legs were on complete display for both men, hearing a low growl rumble from the big biker boss.
You sidestepped so you could move behind the office desk where your beefy lover boy was standing but instead of walking the short way, you purposely walked in front of the younger male, letting your hips brush passed him gently, almost enough to make him stiffen. “S-Seonghwa is…uh, h-here…” The young one stutters, feeling your body against his growing erection.
You finally make your way to the other side of the desk, bringing your hands to your lover's chest. Hongjoongs hands snaked against your waist the moment he felt your leg step in between his, touching his cock with your thigh. There is a smirk painting your features, making Hongjoong know exactly what game you are playing. So, without a second thought, Joong’s hands grip a handful of your ass, squeezing your cheeks in front of the poor boy. You moaned, not holding back from your little show, and Hongjoong was eating all of it up.
“Tell him to wait outside, unless he wants to witness me fucking my darling princess stupid.” His voice echoed in the room, making your glossed eyes, scan his face with anticipation. You had always wanted Seonghwa to join you or even just watch from afar. The idea of him sitting in the corner of the room pumping his cock while watching Hongjoong rail you on his desk, it sends a chill down your spine.
The young boy ran so quickly out of the room it almost made you laugh, but you didn’t have time for that as Joong pushed you onto the desk, pushing all the papers and important files onto the floor letting your back hit the table with a huff. Hongjoong’s lips latched onto your neck, grinding his hips on yours. His rough jeans felt so delicious against your clit as your choked-up moans catch your throat, then your eyes suddenly catch a tall, beefy glass of walking sin, standing in the door frame with crossed arms and a smirk.
“Look what we have here.” Seonghwa’s voice sent a tingle through your body as your eyes locked on his. Hongjoong’s bites got harsh, making your moans grow loud, and the only thing coming to mind was that tonight was going to be fun.
- ♥︎
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