#it felt so repetitive boring and annoying

[ladysatoru]

I don't understand the rivalry between one piece and naruto fans. Watching one piece is about enjoying the adventure, friendship and comedy. Watching naruto is about emotional attachment to the characters and getting ur mental health completely DESTROYED

[sttoru]

·.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. thinking about true form!sukuna having a huge size kink (+ corruption kink).

word count. 2.6k

note. super self-indulgent. cant rlly blame me for creating this. also do you see those big ass hands in the header i used? yeah.. says enough (this sucks ass)

tags. dom heian era!sukuna x concubine!female reader. smut. porn with plot. size kink / size difference (reader gets referred to as ‘short’ & ‘small’). p in v -> unprotected. degradation. corruption kink (reader gets referred to as ‘naive’, 'shy' & innocent’-looking). tummy bulging. loss of virginity mention. hymen breaking mention. cervix fucking, ouch. lots of teasing. tiny bit of choking. tiny mention of blood tasting ? idk. hint at anal / double penetration. dirty talk. sukuna has two of everything btw mehehe. reader get called ‘woman, brat, slut, little'.

sukuna is intrigued by you. he’s always been, since the moment he’s laid his eyes upon you. your loyalty and devotion to him are two aspects that the king of curses likes most about you. .

. . after your innocence.

it nearly irked him. every time he saw you hanging around the estate without a single care in the world. sukuna would attempt to intimidate you with serious threats. he’d loom over your short stature and look down at you with a malicious glint in his eyes. though, none of it seemed to work.

you'd only bow your head at him and apologise if you’ve caused him any possible inconveniences. it annoyed the sorcerer. you weren’t trembling in fear like all the others would — it was like there was nothing going on in that head of yours. especially when you smile at him. which no one actually dares to do.

sukuna could crush you. with no effort. one big hand would be enough to pick your entire body up, lift you in the air and throw you around like a ragdoll. you don’t seem to fear the possibility of that happening, even when being faced with a pissed off sukuna.

it’s truly intriguing and amusing. that’s why sukuna kept you around every day — as a form of entertainment, he called it. one thing led to the other and you eventually ended up as one of his concubines. the king of curses himself decided to grant you that promotion.

why? because not only does your fragile body, reserved and polite personality and innocence secretly fascinate him — it also makes him crave you. crave to shatter that naivety of yours. to take that small body of yours and make it feel what it means to be overpowered by a man twice your size.

sukuna does not regret his decision to make you his concubine. the first night you spent together was one of the best nights he had ever had. in all his many years of living. not a single woman had ever succeeded in blowing his mind when it came to sex.

it was usually boring and repetitive for the sorcerer. he felt nothing for those women he’s had in bed before — it was solely for the fact of satisfying himself. though, that changed on the day you had given him your virginity.

he remembers every detail; from your little noises of both pain and pleasure, your tight and untouched pussy that bled faintly when the fat tip of his lower cock pushed through, your nails that dug into his arms and back, your thighs that he held to your chest, his large hands that could easily wrap around the fat of them, your aching cunt that was left spasming around air as it tried to keep his sticky cum stored in place.

sukuna didn’t think your tears would affect him as much. when he took your virginity and you whimpered in pain — he did feel a twinge of guilt. it was strange; he hadn’t felt that emotion before. he had stopped and wiped your tears away. roughly whispered some words of encouragement too.

he had never done so before. never. he had never told anyone how ‘good’ they were for him. how he’d be ‘careful’ to not make it hurt any more. the king of curses recalls vividly how slow he started with you. slow sex. instead of rough like he’s used to.

sukuna wasn’t chasing after his own pleasure in that moment like he’d usually have. his main priority was to make sure the girl below him was comfortable enough to continue. you’re strange. the things you make him do, say and feel are strange. and yet. . .

it was an amazing night. the best. however sukuna was left behind with an insatiable hunger for you. more, more, more. he can’t grasp it yet; why he longs for you. for those feelings he’s suddenly capable of experiencing during intimate moments.

it’s why he calls for you every night. no other concubine was needed after you were made one. the king of curses couldn’t care less about those other women. they are boring to him.

unlike you. the one he’s sure that he won’t ever get bored of.

“you can take me so well now,” sukuna breathes out. one of his cocks was inches deep inside you, bulbous tip painfully hitting your cervix. over the past few weeks, your body had learnt to adjust to him, your pussy molded to fit the shape of his dick.

sukuna looks down at you and his cocks twitch with the urge to release already. his heavy balls clenching. your fucked out state is adorable. you seemed so.. vulnerable underneath the big man, “what a fragile little thing.”

it almost sounded condescending. degrading. especially with sukuna’s lips being curled up into a mean grin, his sharp canines showing. there was a puddle of your cum forming underneath your hips — staining the sheets that the poor servants have to clean by tomorrow morning.

“p-please, fngh, ‘s too big,” you sputter out. no matter how many times you took sukuna in, your smaller body couldn’t quite fully accommodate to the girth of him. every time he hits your deepest parts, you let out a painful whimper.

sukuna kisses his teeth, though slows his thrusts a bit. the wet sounds of his cum and yours getting pushed in and out of your cunt with each move was too addicting. what sukuna loves most is the view of the skin of your lower abdomen swelling and stretching each time he pushes forward.

“i thought you said you’d take both of my cocks today, yet it seems like you can’t even handle one,” the king of curses sighs whilst belittling you. one set of hands is holding you down by your hips, the other set is fondling your stiff nipples and circling your sensitive clit, “what a pity. a real pity.”

you almost choke on your spit as all your sensitive spots were being fondled. sukuna’s thick fingers leave no place untouched as he increases the tempo again—his cock plunging in and out of your stretched hole. the upper one was twitching, rubbing against your clit and lower abdomen.

sukuna harshly grabs your jaw and makes you look up at him after he hears you apologise for making empty promises. he seems satisfied with you staying so polite. even when he’s practically rearranging your guts. the way you talk through your soft sobs and cries is endearing. makes him grin wickedly.

“i don’t want to break my favourite little concubine yet, you see,” sukuna continues. he lets out a grunt of pleasure when your pussy clenches around his thick cock. no matter how many times he fucks you dumb, you still remain as tight as the first time.

he takes in a deep breath. he’s trying his best not to pound you into the mattress. he’d fold you in half and probably break you like the fragile thing you are. he could snap you like a twig if he wasn’t careful, “. . .but you’re making it very difficult for me.”

you respond by apologising again. oh, how cute it was to see you babble and make up excuses. sukuna grits his teeth, jaw clenching as he resists the urge to go harder on you. you’re already squirming and moaning loudly just because he’s fucking you hard and deep—bruising your cervix and forcing your walls to open up to him.

“‘m sorry, wanna take both.” you hiccup and sniffle. tears ran down your cheeks from overstimulation. it felt so good yet so painful to be taken by the person you admire most. you didn’t want to displease him, so you uttered those hopeless yet needy sentences again.

sukuna stops his movements when you weakly ask him to use both of his cocks on you. he scoffs, not knowing where you gained the confidence from. he pulls out of your dripping cunt, leaving a trail of cum connecting both your genitalia.

“‘wanna take both,’ she says,” sukuna mocks you under his breath. it’s getting worse; he’s nearing the point of no return. especially with your desperate whines that were like music to his ears, “you’ll break, woman.”

two of his hands move to stroke along his lengths, smearing the mixture of body fluids all over them. his eyes glare down at your small form—already fucked out, yet aching to continue. needing the full experience for once.

you always turn from a shy girl to a complete slut whenever he has you in bed. sukuna loves it.

“i want to try at the very least,” you mutter. it’s true that you’re exhausted. you’re catching your breath now that you got the chance, tired eyes glancing up at sukuna’s enormous stature between your legs, his defined muscles and the tattoos on them glistening under the faint light of the oil lamp.

it got your pussy throbbing and clamping down around air. you felt a bit light headed and your head lolls back against the pillow, eyes glazed over as you try to seem determined. but your body was tired.

“yeah? how. . . cute,” sukuna grins. he knows you can’t. not today at least. he doesn’t mind if you aren’t capable of taking him fully since you’ve already pleased him well enough for now. though, he still can’t help but tease you—make it seem like he’s going to give you what you want, “all right. don’t say i didn’t warn you.”

your eyes widen and your fingers curl around the silky bedsheets beneath you in anticipation. your heart is pounding in your chest as you watch sukuna pump his two cocks a bit faster, squeezing the base a bit, leaking some pre.

it’s all just for show.

“i’m not stopping. even if you scream.” the king of curses warns you with a dangerous glint in his eyes. you gulp at the terrifying aura sukuna was emitting. one of his tips teases your entrance whilst the other probes and circles around your anus.

he threatens you again, testing if you’ll back down, “last chance. i’m not pulling out once i’m in, do y’hear me?”

you keep being stubborn until the very last second. sukuna’s deep voice that shook you to your core was not enough to make you change your mind. you were so desperate to fulfill his every need and make sure that he was satisfied. it made you the perfect woman in his eyes.

the king of curses is completely amused. he decides to take it up a notch. he pushes his lower cock against the tight ring of muscles, pressing and nearly allowing the tip to move in. the sudden increase in pressure is torturous. you surely wouldn’t be able to withstand the entire thing.

“w-wait!” you squeal in surprise and pain. the sting you felt made you snap back into reality. it’s when you realised that maybe you needed more time and experience to take both of sukuna’s dicks. you squirm your hips away, “can’t. i can’t.. hurts too much.”

sukuna nearly rolls his eyes once you finally give in. he shakes his head with a sigh, feigning disapproval and annoyance. he pulls his entire body away from yours—a ominous shadow casted over his eyes. it makes you think that he’s pissed off at you; for being unable to please him.

you panic a little. even if you are sure sukuna wouldn’t ever hurt you. you know he favours you over the other concubines. you don’t want to lose that position.

“i’m sorry.” you apologise before the sorcerer could say anything. he lets out a sharp breath, rough hands back on your body, kneading your flesh gently yet firmly. his eyes take in the view of you trembling.

it’s unreal. you are half his size—completely vulnerable underneath him. he’d normally call people like you weak and useless. wouldn’t feel a thing for them. but your naked body below his is a sight he wishes to see every night.

it turns sukuna on so much. the fact that you are helpless and don’t complain when you’re struggling to take one of his cocks gets him going each time.

“tsk. what’d i tell you?” sukuna grumbles. he slaps his lower cock firmly against your clit. your body responds by closing your thighs together, though the king of curses pries them apart again, “stop overestimating yourself, brat.”

he isn’t actually mad. it was expected—of course you couldn’t take both at once. he didn’t even prep your other hole enough. plus you are clearly still exhausted from the previous rounds. sukuna just likes to. . . test and take advantage of your devotion to him. your obedience and desires to please him.

it’s fascinating to see you squirm and apologise in that whiny voice of yours. it makes him grin from ear to ear. and it keeps things fun.

before you could mutter excuses again, sukuna stops you by leaning in. just when you thought you’d finally get to kiss him, he goes to bite down on your bottom lip. a moan slips out of your mouth which only spurs him on to bite down harder.

you could feel the devilish smirk on sukuna against your lip. his wet tongue cleans up the tiny drop of blood that escaped the wound. he lets out a low hum in approval at the taste. delicious as always.

“now, how should i punish my little concubine for being unable to keep her word?” sukuna whispers in a serious tone. it sends shivers down your spine, his hot breath traveling from your jaw to your right ear. he slowly licks your earlobe, “what do you say? any ideas?”

the tension in the room was palpable. your heart was stammering in your throat from the proximity between the two of you. you gather the courage to answer as sukuna’s fingers curl around your neck, squeezing your throat as if forcing the answer out of you.

“i-i’ll do anything, sir.” you reply through a shaky breath. the king of curses pulls back after he’s got a response from you. your eyes meet his and that’s when you know that you’ve either greatly pleased him or have given him the chance to go all out on you.

it’s probably both.

“anything, you say?” sukuna repeats slowly. without a warning, he effortlessly flips you over on your stomach, a set of hands pulling your ass up by your hips whilst the other set holds your upper body down on the mattress.

a harsh grip on the back of your head results into you whimpering. your face was mushed into a pillow, almost leaving no place to breathe. your back is placed in the perfect arch with your plump ass facing up. it’s one of sukuna’s favourite positions to do with you — especially because it makes you seem smaller than you already are.

“heh. i’ll make you regret saying that.” sukuna chuckles. a low, evil and wicked chuckle. that’s enough to make you realise that he was not going easy on you. your submission had greatly impressed the king of curses and he's taking advantage of it. again.

what would come next could be a reward for that said submission. he’s going to fuck your brains out and make you forget about everything else except for his dick. a night you won’t ever forget as long as you live—that’s a possibility.

or perhaps you’re going to be crying and begging him to go easy on you. a punishment for not being able to keep your promise. that could also happen.

anyway, you’re about to find out which one it is.

[sugurouge]

— attention : suna rintarō x f!reader

contains! — mdni: smut, edging, orgasm denial, dirty talk, marking, condescending pet names (like baby, angel, good girl, bunny), pussy spanking, biting — 2.8k words

summary: brat taming with rin cause it's apparently really hard to shut up when he's on an important call with his manager

a/n: ugh coming back to hq in 2024 wasn't on my bingo card but i have too many sunarin thoughts and never posted this fic

People want something from Rin way too often—be it his team, his sponsors, or his stupid social media addiction. Of course, he mostly has the latter under control whenever he promises to focus his attention solely on you, but, unfortunately, there isn’t much Rin can do whenever work urgently needs something from him. And you are okay with it, for the last hour that is, until the important topics are done being discussed and only this unnecessary small talk remains.

With your eyes glued to his back, you try to get more comfortable on the sofa, turning from left to right, from your stomach to your back—making it a point to huff anytime you move. You're desperate to finally get his attention again.

"Rintarō" is the first quiet plea coming his way. Your cheek is squished by a pillow, cuddling the soft cushion instead of your boyfriend who only shushes you from across the living room. This game goes on, turning into repetitive chants of his "Rin" or pleas like "Please, hang up, I’m really bored."

Listen, it’s not that Rin dislikes spending time with you; much rather, he gets a kick out of you behaving needy. He already heard the first exaggerated exhale from your pouting lips loud and clear. Yet it's too tempting to keep chatting, to test you further, despite not being much of a talker under different circumstances.

Can you not even survive without his attention for sixty minutes, hm?

You crawl towards the edge of the sofa, arms resting on the headpiece, to get somewhat closer to him. "Rin… you promised me," you drawl, batting your lashes at him when he finally looks at you.

"You promised you’d take care of me. You promised to give me what I want today. You promised to fuck me, and yet you only sit on that stupid phone and ignore me like you always do!" You don't even care if the person on the side of the call can hear you.

Yes, you over-exaggerate. Of course, how else can you finally get him to end the call and stalk his way over to you? Yet, regret is the last emotion plaguing your mind when his green eyes practically pierce through your body, cool fingertips squishing your cheeks and forcing a pout on your lips.

Rin bends down to match your level, head slightly tilted as his lips near yours. Oh, the excitement that courses through your body is delicious. "You’ve never been that annoying before, you know that?" he mumbles, as he smirks against your lips and pulls back again. His free hand runs along your leg, blunt nails tickling the soft flesh once he draws closer to your inner thighs, index and middle finger signalling with a push to part your legs for him.

The feather-light sensations of his fingertips dragging along your warm and slightly wet panties is already enough to have you hum in satisfaction. "So warm and eager," he pouts, faking sympathy for how you submit to him like such a needy thing. Your hips buck in reply to his touch, lips trying to close the distance between your mouths, prompting his fingers to tighten their hold on your cheeks.

"Though, I really wish you wouldn’t have behaved like this…" His eyes quickly scan the room before landing on you again. "I would have loved to fuck you, baby. It’s been on my mind all week, I felt so bad for being busy. You know that?" Rin mumbles, tilting your head sideways to kiss your neck. "Wanted to make you cream on my cock, wanted to fill you so badly and reward my pretty girl for being so patient for me."

His tongue licks a greedy strip along your pulsing artery before his teeth nip at the wet area, nibbling on your neck until you turn desperate.

"Mh? You’re so wet too. All for me? All because of the little fantasies in your filthy head, yeah?" His words rain in on you, and all you’re really able to process are his mentions about stuffing you full and making you cream. Your legs shut tight around his fingers to lock them in place. "I’m sorry..." What a pathetic little apology.

"Are you really? Or is your pussy thinking for you right now?" His chuckles vibrate against your skin as his fingers push your panties aside, one finger entering you with such ease you should feel embarrassed. "Fuck…" he breathes against the shell of your ear, his eyes falling shut once a second finger explores your gummy walls. "I’d love nothing more than to stretch you on my cock. I want you so bad, angel."

The mockery, the condescending pet names, and his stupid fingers curling against your spongy spot—it’s all a little too enticing.

"Rin, please. I’m really—ah, I’m so sorry, really sorry. I’ll be good, I won’t do it again." You try to convince him, tugging at his shirt as your eyes search for his.

Deft fingers still inside you, while his thumb now teases your clit, softly rubbing the little bundle while Suna, once again, brings distance between your faces. He allows himself a moment to admire your pretty features with that adorable desperation in your eyes. You lean into the caress of his palm against your cheek. "Never again? You promise me?" he mumbles the question.

You nod slightly as your begging gaze meets his squinted eyes—suspicion written all over his features. "Promise," you whisper as if it’s a secret shared between you two.

Rin's sigh softens his expression, easing the tension from your body since his words are so sweet. "Hmm, well since you promise me so nicely to behave, I think I should properly reward you."

Your back meets the sofa in an instant, legs spread wide by large hands digging into the tender flesh as he litters your inner thighs with kisses. The sensation of his mouth sucking on your skin makes you mewl and further press your thigh against his mouth. It shouldn’t feel this good for him to ruin you, but his teeth bruising your legs all the way to your core is addictive.

"Fuck, Rin~" you breathlessly moan when his tongue licks along your soaked panties, his gaze resting on your face to watch your every reaction. You're ready to go on your knees and beg the moment he sits back to tug his shirt off, revealing his toned body for you. Your clothes follow suit; he's carelessly tugging your skirt and panties off in one go—the strength behind his actions is pulling your body down until your ass pushes against his legs.

That first feeling of his clothed cock meeting your pussy won't allow you a moment of breather. You're all consumed by searing kisses along your neck, by greedy hands lifting your top until your bra is exposed to Rin's eyes and the tight fabric of your top pushes your tits further together. His hips lazily roll against yours, worry about slick staining his pants the last thing on Rin's mind. "I want you so fucking bad," he pants, the strain in his voice already so painfully clear.

"Can’t you just…?" you practically whine, tugging at his roots as his face is buried between your tits, lips busy spoiling your skin in kisses as he mumbles into your skin how "You’d learn nothing from it, would you?"

Your neediness causes his cock to twitch in his pants, hips pushing against yours. Low moans dampen your skin, they bring shivers to spread over your body and a "I hate you," with too little strength to your voice to leave your lips.

Pointed canines dig into the soft skin of your stomach, making you regret your words as he carelessly leaves indentations. "You love me," Rin mumbles, before flattening his tongue to lick over the irritated area. His hands snake around your thighs to further spread them once his travels lead him further down your body. Leaving kiss after kiss until his breath ghosts over your clit, the tip of his tongue darting out just for a taste test.

The kiss on your lower lips is most likely the softest one you’ve received all day, reminding you of how tender Rin can actually be—when you don’t annoy him relentlessly. His mouth latches onto your pussy, tongue pressing against your clit to apply a nearly unbearable amount of pressure, making you squirm beneath and move against him. Impatiently, you push your pussy into his face, shamelessly trying to grind against him, seeking the delicious friction he seems willing to give; until you cry out in surprise.

Until his mouth closes and his teeth drag along the overly sensitive and thin skin of your swollen pussy. The stinging pain brings tears to fill your eyes as his upper jaw meets his lower one, his front teeth tugging on your clit while the tip of his tongue plays with the flesh trapped between his teeth.

Rin pulls back once the grip on his roots turns painful. The smack to your pussy with his flattened hand follows almost right after, before his middle and ring fingers enter you again.

By now, you've turned shameless. Loud moans bounce off the walls of your living space, they almost sound helpless as they mix with your pathetic attempts to fill your lungs with air while Rin moves his fingers.

The pain he previously inflicted on your clit makes it almost too easy to push you towards an orgasm. Thanks to his observant nature, Rin can quickly notice the hints of your impending high. It brings a sly smile to his lips as he returns to once again lean over you. Hand propped up beside your head, he basks in the heavenly sight before his eyes, his hand moving faster, fingers curling just right until your legs quiver.

"You’re really cumming because I bit your clit, huh?"

You nod all too willingly, heavy eyes falling shut to let your tears run free and drown in your orgasm. Yet, it never arrives. Instead of the sweet release of your orgasm washing over your body, you only feel the tingling sensation inside your core subside as Rin stills his movements, fingers resting inside your clamping walls until he feels you loosen up.

"Don’t!" nothing but a sad protest. "Please, let me cum."

Fuck, your expression is heavenly. Those sparkling eyes now filled with lust, the wobbly lower lip, and the bounce to your tits as you fight for deeper breaths. It makes Rin‘s cock ache with lust.

He purses his lips, scanning your face for a moment longer before his fingers thrust inside you again—pausing just a moment later. He repeats the movement, enjoying the way you tighten around him again and again in response to his teasing; it’s just so entertaining to keep you on edge.

"As if we’ve never played this game before, pretty," Rin mumbles, lips brushing against yours now that he is finally at eye-level with you. "Be good and I’ll let you come as often as you need."

You nod quickly, brows furrowing to make you look even cuter. Your hands paw at his body, holding on to his shoulders and digging into his sides. "I’ll be good, I’ll behave, swear."

His soft kiss against your forehead is comforting, unlike his slick-drenched fingers rubbing on your clit, circling eternal patterns on the blood-rushed area until they enter your pussy again. "Yeah? You really want my cock that desperately?"

You hum, your heavy lids closing as you dance dangerously close to your orgasm. "Really want your cock, Rinnie," you mumble, absentmindedly nodding in agreement, ready to welcome your sweet release.

His tongue replaces his thumb, lips harshly sucking on your clit while he curls his fingers inside you. Your legs squish his cheeks in return, hips bucking against him. Your moans are the prettiest sounds to ever reach Rin's ears while the knot in your core is growing tighter with every move he makes.

Rin holds a firm grip on your thigh, wet fingertips pressing against your twitching muscles as he almost tastes your orgasm on his tongue. His eyes roll in their sockets, it's tough not to get too aroused by how perfectly you suffer.

"So close," you hum, excitement lingering in your announcement as breathing becomes more and more difficult. Yet the smile that was about to spread on your lips dies as quickly as it was about to spread once Rin forces you to hold still. Fingers leaving your cunt, he watches you pulse around nothing, walls trembling to feel the emptiness inside your hole instead of bliss.

His lips withdraw from your clit, expertly ignoring the pain of your fingers as they desperately try to hold onto his hair. What an awful reminder of how powerless you are once Rin effortlessly frees himself from your grip.

Shamelessly, he kneels down to stare at your pitiful state, noting how swollen your lips are as the light of the late afternoon sun highlights the glistening of your slick. Rin’s face doesn’t look much different, drenched in your arousal as he licks his lips and brings his wet face to yours.

Something about your tear-stained face is too beautiful for him and the way you turn your head sideways to dodge his filthy kiss is his favourite game.

Another smack against your pussy makes you shriek, more tears running over your face as you try to push him away. “Brat,” Rin mumbles, a click of his tongue tauntingly ringing in your ear. “You know why I do this. Don’t make it worse now, sweetheart.”

The following caress of your thigh is gentle, his kisses on your cheek soft and comforting—making it impossible to decipher his next moves. Go on, tell him.

“I-I behaved like a spoiled brat,” you hiccup, begging eyes finally daring to look into your boyfriend’s. For a moment, you find nothing but adoration in them.

Rin hums in return and adjusts his position on top of you, his body gently pressing against yours and caging you beneath him. The hard outline of his cock pushes against your leg, the hiss against your skin hot while his fingers hover over your pussy once more.

“P-please, I c-can’t take another—Rin, it’s too much, I’ve learnt my lesson, really!” you ramble on, panic spreading throughout your body.

The continuous pecks all over your exposed skin confuse you, luring you in to further seek comfort from the same guy who drives you mad.

“What do you want? Come on, tell me, pretty baby. Tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you.” The sweetness laced in his voice makes it impossible not to trust him again. So, your arms find their way around his neck, your tears wetting his skin as your lips brush against the shell of his ear. “Want you, Rin.”

Rin’s hand follows your waistline, thumb shortly teasing your breast until his fingers grab your chin and force you out of your hiding spot. “Hm? I couldn’t hear you. Repeat that for me,” he whispers against your lips, his eyes staring at you like prey.

“Please, I-I can’t, I want you to fuck me, I need you. Really, really need you. So bad!” The tip of his nose brushes against yours before softly kissing you. Until he pulls away, until this little demon returns and pouts right in your face. “Did I tire my baby out, hm? Was I too much?” He sounds so kind, how could you register the warning sings?

His fingers return to hover over your clit, teasing with feathery touches until you twitch with each move. “So sensitive,” Rin muses, forcing himself to bite back his grin. “I think you really need my cock, need me to fill your cute little pussy…” The pressure of his fingers increases, lubricating them once more in your arousal.

You merely nod, hands carding through his hair while your entire body begs for your orgasm.

“And I really want to be inside you too, bunny.” He groans, accentuating his desires by pressing his cock against your inner thigh. “You’d feel so good wrapped around me, your pretty whines and begs all I need to come deep inside you.” His jaw tightens, a display of how much his own dirty talk affects him, before he resorts to hiding his face in the crook of your neck.

Rin’s fingertips dip into your wet entrance once, twice. “You have no clue how hot it is when you squeeze me like that, feeling like you want to milk me dry,” he hums. His voice and words drive you wild, your hips pushing against his hand once more before another harsh slap snaps you out of your cloudy mind.

The stinging of the painful contact between his hand to your pussy lingers on your skin, sending vibrations through your puffy lips and causing tears to once again dance along your lash line. Your fingers wrap around his wrist immediately, your mind already aware of what his next move will be, as you desperately try to keep him in place.

But he pulls back, air hitting your uncomfortably hot and dripping pussy as you’re left with a kiss to your forehead. “But not today, not when you behave like a spoiled princess,” he murmurs, the disappointment and amusement evident in his tone.

dividers from @/cafekitsune + @/strangergraphics

[carpenterswife]

HALF OF ME (iii)

SUMMARY: Spending years in a Russian lab as nothing more than an experiment does a lot to a man, even one as strong as Soldier Boy. Experiment after experiment after torture technique slowly chips away at his willpower. And, alongside the loss of his strength, comes his anger. His anger at the people who put him in here, the people he used to call his team; and his need for vengeance increases. 37 years after his capture, a group of 5 release him from his prison, and sets him and his rage free.

WORD COUNT: 1755

WARNINGS: MINORS DNI. Torture, human experimentation, inhumane treatment/practices, violence, gore, unethical treatment/practice, drug abuse.

MAIN MASTERLIST / SERIES MASTERLIST

If there was one thing Ben knew, it was that he wanted the fuck out of here. This cold, lonely, dark room the Russians had had him locked inside of for god knows how long. Between the torture, the Novichok, and the cryo, he’d lost count of the days.

Or the months… or years. Yeah, he really wasn’t sure anymore.

But another day brought more bullets shot into the back of his throat. And, honestly, he was more tired of the taste of metal than the feeling of his throat being ripped apart.

They could be more inventive with their torture techniques.

Injecting acid into his veins, pouring it down his throat, and setting him on fire was boring. Really. If he had more strength in his body, he’d mock them for their predictability. It was repetitive. How were they learning anything new when they did the same damn things every day?

He spent most of his days alternating between thinking of two things; how to kill these Russians, and how to kill Payback.

Because, oh yeah, was he going to rip that shitty excuse of a team apart by their limbs when he got out. Not if. When.

And he’d start with you.

The woman he’d been sleeping with in the lead-up to The Betrayal.

Sure, you weren’t at Nicaragua, but he had no doubt you’d opened your legs as some fucked up, psychological way to soften him up. Fucking whore. Sure, you were a good fuck, but his rage swallowed up any remaining softness he had for you. (Or hardness).

He was going to take great pleasure in squishing you like an annoying bug.

And then Crimson — honestly she was number two on his kill-list, simply because he didn’t really like her. She was a boring fuck, and totally used his ‘death’ as a PR stunt.

What was it with these bitches and manipulating him?

Every time he thought about it, he got more angry. More vengeful. He could feel the power draining from his bones every time they drugged him up on Novichok, and it only heightened his rage.

Right now, he was stuck here. But, when he got back, every single one of those fuckers were going to pay.

━━━━━━ ✦ ━━━━━━

He dreamed about you a lot.

Sometimes, as they poured acid down his throat, Ben imagined you. He clawed and begged breathlessly for mercy, becoming a weak, vulnerable mess at the hands of these men, and he thought of you.

He didn’t want you. You were the one who’d put him in here. But he couldn’t help it.

With your pretty face, sweet words and gentle touch; you’d been the first woman he’d loved.

Ben never thought he’d be capable of such an emotion. That love and emotional intimacy was far, far out of his reach. But, with you, it came easy. Being a dick to you felt more like teasing and playful remarks, rather than genuine hatred. And he’d never dared raise a hand to you like he did Gunpowder or Noir.

He hated himself for it. He should be angry. So, so fucking angry. He should spend his days wishing the worst on you.

Instead, he wished you were here. That you’d come and rescue him. That you’d hold him and whisper soothingly, your words sinking through his skin and to his heart, lighting up his nerves.

He’d never felt so alone before.

━━━━━━ ✦ ━━━━━━

So… apparently you couldn’t age.

It came as a shock as much to you as it did to Vought. They’d pulled you out of the spotlight when it’d become too obvious, when the media started to notice the lack of wrinkles for your age and had begun asking questions, and they’d ran some tests.

Turns out, your father was a moron. And the strain of Compound V the assholes at the hospital had given you, was the same strain they’d given Ben during the human trials in WW2. Fucking dickheads. Because now you were stuck on this godforsaken planet until you discovered something that could kill you.

You had no idea why they did that. But it was Vought. They always had some shady, unethical shit going on in the background. Turns out you were just another victim of that.

Hopefully the Russians had another one of those lasers they’d killed Ben with.

It’d been 15 years since that fateful day. 1999 had olled around, and Vought officially kicked you out of the business. They gave you the ‘Soldier Boy Plan’ — giving you a pretty house in the middle of god-knows-where, and telling the media you were dead.

You couldn’t complain, really. You’d befriended the local wildlife and spent your evenings watching the sunset over the trees. The years went by slowly, but they were far more peaceful than your life in Vought had been. Finally, you could just breathe.

And you watched the news, as Payback fell apart and were replaced by a new team, the Seven. Homelander seemed like a Soldier Boy 2.0 — same cockiness, same fake smiles and kindness. You were sure there was some shady shit going on with that team. (There always was with Vought).

It wasn’t your business. It was 2020, you hadn’t been a superhero in 21 years. Whatever bullshit was going on with Vought was in your distant past.

… And then Queen Maeve made it your business. On a quiet day in 2021.

Initially, when you opened the door to see the smug superhero in your doorway, you were half-tempted to just kill her right there. But, you held back. Your hand curled around the door, staring back at her. “What do you want?”

“I want to know everything you know about Soldier Boy.” She didn’t even look surprised you were alive.

You kind of just… stared. “Ben?” You echoed. That was the last thing you’d expected to come out of her mouth “You mean… the man who died 37 years ago? Why the fuck are you asking me about him?”

She shrugged. The corner of her lip tugged to a smirk. “You were fucking him.” Honestly, you had to give her some credit. She obviously did her research before coming here. Plus, she had some fucking balls just turning up out of the blue like this. You could rip her head clean off her shoulders if you wanted to.

Scoffing, you turned and walked away from the front door, inadvertently inviting the supe in. She followed you through your home, to the kitchen, where your first instinct was to grab a bottle of wine. “Why are you asking me about him?”

“We think—“

“Who’s we?” You cut in, grabbing two glasses.

Maeve stared for a moment. “A few friends.”

You scoffed, pouring the wine into the two glasses. “I’m going to need more than ‘friends’ if you want me to tell you anything about Ben.” With an unimpressed glare, you handed her a glass.

“We think whatever killed him, might be able to kill Homelander.” She didn’t give you the information you wanted, but it was better than nothing. And it’s what made you help.

So, you fetched her the files you’d gathered on Ben, in your 15 years of trying to figure out what happened to him. You wished her luck, hoping she found more than you did. You never found who the friends were, and why exactly they wanted Big-Man-Homelander dead, but you had a good guess.

Whatever.

Not your business.

━━━━━━ ✦ ━━━━━━

Ben came in and out of consciousness a lot. They’d rip into his muscles and his bones, or inject something into his bloodstream, and then they’d pump him full of Novichok again, until his muscles went weak and his eyes rolled back.

Fucking assholes. Finding one of the only things in this world that could do damage to him.

It made it difficult to keep track of time. Sometimes they kept him asleep for weeks, while they analysed results and came up with new techniques. Like a rat. It was dehumanising.

He was tired these days. Tired of being angry. Tired of being tired.

He missed home. He missed drugs. He missed his fame. He missed sex. He missed you. When’d he become such a weak pussy? He was a man, for fucks sake. Not a snivelling bitch. He could get through this. He could get out the other end. And he could kill you.

He was sure of it.

And, in 2021, only two weeks after you delivered the file to Maeve, a group of five landed in Russia, and set him free.

━━━━━━ ✦ ━━━━━━

Soldier Boy being alive was not on the itinerary. All their clues had lead them to Russia, where they’d expected to find a weapon… and instead found the man himself.

Hughie couldn’t quite believe his eyes, and Butcher was too busy rethinking their entire plan to really digest this all.

Really, there was a man in his 100’s snorting lines of bennies in front of them, making demands. They’d fetched him food, alcohol and drugs, with the hopes to calm him down and rationalise him. He took it all with no ‘thank you’, but seemed a bit more relaxed once the white powder went up his nose.

Relaxed enough to make a deal.

He wanted Payback dead, they wanted Homelander dead — they’d kill two birds with one stone. It was good enough for Butcher.

“Two’a your ol’ mates are dead.” Butcher spoke to the supe, who was drinking whiskey straight from the bottle. “I sorted Gunpowder.” (Ben hadn’t been impressed with that news). “And your ol’ girlfriend, Y/N—“

Now that caught his attention. “She’s dead?” Ben’s head lifted quickly, analytical eyes watching Butcher. His teeth ground together. He’d wanted to be the one to kill you. He’d dreamt of watching the life drain from your eyes. “How’d she kick it?”

“Vought never released those details.”

He allowed himself a smirk. Smart bitch. “Then she ain’t dead.” He slammed the hilt of his dagger into a few pills, crushing them into powder. “Shady fucks pulled that stunt hundreds’a times.”

Hughie sat a little straighter. This was fresh news. While they’d been searching for people to help find information on Soldier Boy, they’d suggested you. But, everything in history suggested you’d met the reaper in ‘99. “They faked her death?”

He nodded, sure of it, cutting the powder into lines. “Find her.” He demanded. His sharp glare cut into the pair of them. “I want her fuckin’ dead.”

a/n: sorry for the loooong ass wait on this chap. i rlly struggled to write this one + i’m currently sitting my a level exams. this chapter was more of a filler. the good stuff happens next chapter !!!

taglist: @onlyangel-444 @deans-spinster-witch @fumolemon @anundyingfidelity @mostlymarvelgirl @aaronhotchnerlover @delaynew @let-me-luve-you @yvonneeeee @livsh20 @thej2report @lostin-jensenseyes

@boywivlove @leavli @cassieriddle713 @drasticemotions

[gegewrites]

Harvey (SDV)- One Glass Was all it Took (SMUT)

Hi, just dropping off this fanfic for you. Eat it up. hope yall enjoy I started this legit at 10am TODAY. This is the fastest I’ve written in a bit and the first fic I’ve finished in months (I’m so sorry)

The Harvey brain rot is real.

4-7-24

5.2k words

Your pov-

The sun was setting and I was relaxing on the porch swing, looking at the sky changing colors. It was a relaxing day, it rained in the morning, which made it easy to pet and collect from the animals, but annoying to  harvest the crops that were ready. It stopping raining at about four, and by then I was already done for the day. I contemplated going fishing or heading to the mines for a few hours to make up some of that wasted time but I ended up just cleaning and re-arranging some of the house. The birds were singing, still warm out but a cool breeze drifted through the trees. It was perfect out. 

"Enjoying the sunset?" I heard Harvey ask, I looked over and he was by the produce bin. I wasn't expecting him at all.

"Yeah, so pretty tonight." I smiled. He didn't come up into the porch, he leaned against the railing in front of me, a bottle of wine in hand being held out to me.

"I had to go to Zuzu City today, I picked this up on my way out. Think you'll enjoy it." He smiled as I leaned off the swing and grabbed it from him.

"This is my job." I giggled. It's a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon, the label boasting a 10 year age and top quality French grapes.

"Just a little bit of payback for all the stuff you've brought me." He smiled,"I-"

"Should I get glasses?" I asked,"you don't have to leave so soon do you?"

"I can stay for a bit." He leaned off the railing as I stood up.

"Perfect, come in."

Half and hour later-

"…Just a bunch of city and small town doctors and donors looking to shell out money. If I was convincing enough hopefully a few donors will step up and donate some money to the clinic.” He took a sip from his glass and looked at me,” It's a decent drive to the city, i don’t mind it. I use to intern at the Zuzu hospital, but when I heard they didn't have a doctor in this town, that the other towns also driving to the city for healthcare, I settled in." His eyes looked away from the now dusky blue sky and looked at him, which were watching him intently," why are you here? Besides your grandfathers passing, I don’t think you’ve told me.”

"I wasn't doing so well back home...so when we did get the news grandpa died my parents saw it as a way for me to get a new fresh start...and it worked, but boring I'll be honest. Three years, everyday almost the same." I shrugged my shoulders and finished the last of my glass. We both were only on the first glass, talking more than drinking.

"I get that. In a town so small it's easy to fall into a repetition...only reason why I've kept my car. I could sell it, put that money into the clinic, but when people in the outside towns needs assistance and they can't get here I get to switch it up and go to them."  He looked down at his glass and then back to me,"it's important to find joy in daily life, especially when you're life is a lot of physical work....its also important to find the time to relax."

"Yeah, but there's always something that has to get done over here or someone needs something." His hand came down and sat just above my knee.

"You need to start making time for yourself." His face was serious, but not scolding. His brows lightly furrowed together, but his eyes held a caring look.

"Doctors orders?" I smiled, a chuckle trailing behind the words and I felt my cheeks flush. Luckily it was darker out but the porch light was still on.

"Doctors orders." He smiled, his eye contact was held with mine. He did look like he was contemplating something, his eyes slightly looking down below mine before locking back with mine.

Usually it would take me a third glass to get the confidence to make any sort of move, but over the few years I've been here, the conversations we've had, professional settings and non professional, it gave me the confidence.

The swing wasn't big, our legs were comfortably touching, and his hand still sat on my leg. I pushed up just a bit, my lips connecting to his, my heart was pounding out of my chest, but he returned it quickly, the hand on my thigh came to my check and my heart rate relaxed a bit.  His mustache tickled my nose but I didn't mind it at all. We both tasted like wine and I heard his glass tink against the table in his side, his newly free hand softly held my other cheek, mine still holding my glass. He was the first to pull away from the slow kiss.

"(y/n)..."  he whispered before pulling back more and my heart sped up, awaiting rejection,"are you sure about this?"

"I've never been more sure of anything, Harvey." I replied quickly but not forcefully, he took the glass from my hand and placed it with his on the table behind him.

I could tell he was thinking, quickly contemplating the decisions he could make. He turned back to me, pushing his glasses further onto the bridge of his nose.

"I'm a thirty four year old doctor stuck in place." His thumb brushed my cheek as he spoke.

"And im a twenty five year old who couldn't hold down a job long enough to have a chance to be stable." I confessed,"my last relationship ended with cops and a restraining order."

"I'm sorry to hear that. But (y/n), you said you're bored, you're bored here... I watch the history channel and live quietly."

"You don't get it, Harv. I'm bored cause I'm alone, everyday I wake up and it's just me, you're stuck in place cause it's just you. Don't humans need others around? We are social animals."  He let out a quiet and sharp exhale from him nose, hand still in my cheek that didn't even realize I've relaxed into.

"There are others-"

"Please Harvey, I've already tried, they've all got their own dreams in places I've already tried to live and couldn't....i want quiet but I don't wanna be alone."  His hand slid away from my cheek, just to hold onto my chin,"there's no reason to not try."

"You have to understand that I'm still your doctor and if it doesn't work-"

"If it doesn't work my ass Harvey." I grabbed lightly onto his other wrist,"I've never been more sure of anything.."I leaned forwards,"and you haven't been only  charging me half for no reason, don't think I haven't noticed. You can say you're not the right one but it's obvious Harv-"

He cut me off with his lips, his hand coming to my waste, pulling my body a bit closer to his. I kissed him back quickly not wasting any time, my body was twisted a bit, my hands held onto his jacket covered shoulders. Our lips moved in sync, tongues tangling with each other, heat and want radiating from the both of us.

My hand grabbed onto his tie as I slid off the swing and stood up, our lips didn't disconnect, his big hands sat on my waist as he sat up higher before standing. He was taller than me, so he was bowed down to keep the kiss going and my back pressed against the railing of the porch. He pulled away, and stood up straight, looking down at me. His hand left my waist and he pushed his glasses back up. God he was handsome.

I decided to ditch the glasses that were on  the table and lead him inside by his tie.

When we got to my bedroom he took off his jacket and I loosened his tie before I started undoing his belt while he kicked off his shoes. His hands coming to the bottom of my shirt, slipping it off of my body, dropping it to the floor as he walked me back, the back of my legs feeling the mattress and he unclipped my bra. My thighs pressed together a bit, feeling that pulse between my legs and myself getting wetter. He slid it down my arms and I sat down, his hands running down my body as he slowly got down onto his knees.

"This bruise is concerning."  He ran his thumb on the right side of my ribs and I rolled my eyes.

"I can't even feel it Harv." I rolled my eyes with a smile and cupped his cheek, his cheek and jaw was a bit tickly. He placed a kiss to the top of my chest, kissing my collarbones and then down between my breasts,"if you want to know it's from my goat getting too excited and accidentally butting me."

"I'm glad.." his hand cupped my breast, fingers massaging it, my nipple pressed into his palm as he placed a kiss on my other. My hand sat on the back of his neck, my nails lightly scratching his scalp, his shaggy hair between my fingers," it's nothing serious…but goats are pretty strong,” he looked up at me,”could’ve broken a rib.”

I couldn’t help but laugh as his lips returned to my breast. I propped up on my left arm, his tongue swirled around my nipple, teeth teasing it lightly and I grinded down to on the mattress from the pressure of need building up inside of me. While he places kisses to my breasts his hands came down and undid the button of my jeans, and unzipped them. He pushed up slightly placing a kiss on my sternum and I laid back on my forearm. He hooked his fingers into my jeans, I raised my hips a bit and he pulled them down slowly, my panties going with them. His eyes locked with mine, until the fabric fell to the floor, and now I was naked with him between my legs.

Both of us paused. Suddenly I wish I had drank another glass. His eyes trailed down my body, taking it in.

“Harvey?” I asked, and he looked up at me, his look alone told me I was the one feeling off.

“Sorry…taking it in now.” He pushed my thighs out, spreading my legs wider, and he grew taller, kneeling only on one knee now,”once these glasses come off I can’t exactly see you the best.”

I felt my face blush as his hand ran along the inside of my thigh, and my pussy tighten from his touch. It’s been awhile, a good four years since I’ve been with something other than a vibrator. I felt his thumb slide up my lips, feeling how wet I’ve gotten, then his thumb slipped between and immediately found my clit. My lips parted the moment his thumb pad touched my clit, he slowly and softly dragged his thumb in a circle against it and my head lulled back a bit and I let out a sigh. He trailed a few kisses on the inside of my thigh, mustache tickling and dragging against my skin. His thumb worked a bit faster and my thighs quivered a few times.

“Harvey please.” I pushed out with a breath and I heard him hum lightly. His thumb left my clit and I felt his middle finger circle my wet hole before dipping in causing a moan to rumble in my throat as I bit my lip. His fingers were nice, he had nice hands at that. His fingers were long kind of thick, but nimble none the less. He curled his finger to the curve of my walls as he slowly dragged it in and out. I didn’t realize where he was till I felt the left side of the bed dip a bit.

“Absolutely soaked.” He whispered into my ear and a shiver ran down my spine and I tightened around his finger,”you haven’t had anything in a while, huh?”

“Too busy..mm, too tired at the end of the day.” I answered, feeling him kiss my neck, his stubble scratching lightly at my skin.

He kissed my shoulder with a hum, his middle finger leaving me, but coming back with his ring finger in tow. His fingers slipped right back in, my head couldn’t help my fall back, the front of my neck completely bared to him. He curled his fingers to my anatomy again and he sped up the slightest. I could feel how wet I was, it was almost embarrassing, but come on…it’s Harvey.

My hips rolled into his palm and his fingers found my gspot, I bit down onto my lips, my eyes fell close.

“Right theere.” I moaned, and he changed his fingers positions, a deeper curl. I heard something light fall onto the bed and my eyes opened the littlest. I saw his glasses. I raised my head, timing perfectly with him lifting my left leg onto his shoulder. His stubble rubbing against the inside of my thigh, before feeling his tongue against my clit, he kept a steady pace and motion with his fingers. His tongue slowly lapped at my clit,my hand finding the top of his hair, not tugging but sitting in it, holding it out of his face. I was breathing heavy, breathy moans just slipping out. His lips latched on to clit, a mix of licking and sucking, making my body tense and my moans grow louder.

“Oh God.” I moaned out, my heel digging into his back just below his shoulder blade,”Fuuuck Harv.”

He pushed up onto the bed, his left arm wrapped around the front of my thigh, holding the inside of it with his hand and he pumped his fingers deeper and faster. I heard a groan erupt from him as his tongue dipped in with his fingers before sliding back to my clit, giving it a harsh suck. My hands gripped into his hair, my body pushing into his. My head felt light, my thigh tensing in his grip, being held open to avoid squeezing his head. The way he was circling, sucking, and licking my clit roughly paired with his fingers “come hither” and just how deep his fingers were inside of me I was on the verge of cumming. I could feel my slick dripping down my ass, definitely soaked in the comforter, my walls tightened around his fingers. My moans were more present, louder, and longer. My body felt like it was on fire in the best way possible.

“I’m gonna cum Harv.” I whined out, releasing his hair for a second before griping back on. My thighs started twitching and the upper half of my body curling forwards yet my head lulling back,”I’m gon-gonna cum baby.”

He didn’t change was he was doing, and my toes curled, my eyes rolling back, my teeth digging into my bottom lip as my body tightened. that knot in my abdomen snapping, cumming on his fingers. We kept his pace steady as I rode out my release, only slowing down when I started whimpering and hips near spasming into his face.

I fell onto my back, as his fingers slid out of my pussy, his tongue lapping up my release. His hand left the inside of my thigh, and I heard his glasses drag towards him, before wrapping around it again. He placed a kiss to the inside of my thigh, his mustache wet. I was catching my breath, coming back to reality when my thigh dropped from his shoulder and I felt his thumb swipe across my bottom lip. I opened them and his finger laid on my tongue, I closed my lips around them, cleaning my cum off of them.

I opened my eyes when he slid his fingers out of my mouth. He was standing in front of the bed, looking down at my pussy, the bulge in his dark brown corduroys prominent. I sat up, and pulled him to me by his tie, kissing him heatedly, tasting myself on his tongue. My fingers started undoing the buttons of his shirt, tugging it out of jeans and pulling away from him, a light bite dragging his lip before letting go. His lips were pink, so was his face. He undid his tie enough to get it off over his head and took off his long sleeve as I placed kisses down his stomach, slowly unzipping his pants.

He wasn’t a “fit” man, he had a dad bod but no kids(not yet), but he was attractive and sexy as hell nonetheless. He brushed the hair out of my face as I kissed down his happy trail. I slid down to my knees and he took a step back. I looked up at him through my lashes as I hooked my fingers into the waist on his pants and boxer band, and slid them down. His cock sprung out and I stopped pulling down his pants. He was decent size, long enough to where he wouldn’t be able to get all of it in but most, but he was thick. It made sense for a man as meaty as he is.

I kissed up his thigh, which had impeccable grinding quality. His fingers carded through my hair, my hands sat on his hips as I kissed up his body till I was standing, a bit wobbly, but his hand came around to my back.

“I wanna ride you.” I kissed his chest and he chuckled, his hand sat on the side of my neck and lower part of my jaw, his thumb brushed over my jaw, before he angled my face to look up at him.

“You can, but you have to go easy.” I gave him a pouty furrowed brow look and he smirked with fondness,”you haven’t had sex in awhile. Feeling how tight you were-and just with fingers, you have to take it easy.”

“You saying I’m too small for your cock, Doctor?” I whispered intimately and I wrapped my arms around his neck and stood on my tippy toes, my chest pressing into his, his cock pressed against the front of my thigh. His face flushed even more as his hands held onto my waist. My hand came around to the back of his head and I pulled his head closer to mine and I whispered,”guess it’s a good thing I’m absolutely soaked for you.”

He let out a breath I don’t think he realized he was holding in and I lowered down onto my soles. He hasn’t gotten a moment to speak, this pussy has his tongue caught. My fingers dragging against his skin as I backed up and crawled onto the bed. I propped up onto my arms, facing him, and spread my legs open, my heels stable on the edge of the bed.

“Do you wanna be the one to stretch this pussy then?” It looked like his brain stopped working for a second, before has hand gripped onto his cock, his tongue quickly swiping along the bottom of his top lip and he smirked lightly, more adoration then the lust his eyes held.

“I probably shouldn’t, no condoms.” He crossed his arms, oh he looked good.

“What did you go into the city and fuck a stripper?” I joked and he shook his head with a chuckle.

“We’re unprotected.” His hands moved to his waist and I looked at him with a dumbfounded look.

“Harvey…you’re the dude who gives me my birth control every month.” He rolled his eyes and adjusted his glasses.

“I’m aware of that, It’s still unsafe nonetheless.” His hands sat on my knees before grabbing the back of my calves.

“Live a little, just for tonight.” His grip tightened on my calves and he looked to the side and then back to me before pulling me edge of the bed, I fell onto my back as he held my calfs on his waist, his cock sitting right over my soaking cunt. His head tapping against it as it bounced lightly.

“For tonight.” His hand let go of my calf and I held it against his waist. His glasses slid down the bridge of his nose and his caressed my cheek, him thumb brushed against the cheek bone. He used that same hand to drag the head of his cock between my slick lips, running it against my clit, then rubbing his tip against my needy hole, he watched his cock slide between my lips before he looked up at me.

“Need a pillow.” I quickly grabbed the fluffiest one from behind me and handed it to him. I tightens my legs around him but he peeled them off,”where’s your bathroom?”

“Why?” I asked sitting up.

“Just need a towel.” I just fell in love with him. Luckily there was a bathroom in my bedroom so I pointed to the door and he walked over. Man has a nice ass, he is just good looking in general.

He came back with one of my thick towels, dark grey. He folded it into two and put it over the towel. I laid back down, holding my knees close to my chest and he grabbed my calf’s, spreading my legs and placing my lower half onto the pillow.

“That’s better.” His hands guided my legs around his waist, spitting into his palm and stroking his cock. I swallowed and bit down onto my lower lip as he stroked his cock through my lips. He was right, this angle felt better. His tip circled my entrance and he looked at me,”you ready?”

“Mmhmm.” I nodded and he paused for a moment before he started pushing the tip in. I immediately gripped onto the mattress below me my eyes squeezing shut, he was so right. He always right.

“I think I-“ he stopped pushing in mid tip.

“No no, just keep going…Fuck Harv.”

“Just tell me if it hurts, I’ll go easy.” He started pushing it in again. My walls stretching around him yet clamping down on him. It was a mix of absolute pleasure and pain. A deep throaty grain erupted out of his chest, I opened my eyes to see his head tilted back before coming back to look down at his cock stretching into me. I when he bottomed he pressed deeper into me and pushed out a shakey moan from my lips.

He stopped for a moment, giving my body a chance to relax around him, his hand ran up and down my thigh comfortingly as I breathed in and out, my brows twisted together.

“Move, please” I said softly and he did just that, he slowly slid his cock out of me, even his tip, and slid it back inside. Another moan left my left, my lips stayed open as he pushed in deeper this time, pulling out to his tip and pushing back in. He kept it slow and steady, listening to the whines and groans that fell from my lips.

“Shit (y/n).” He groaned out, I felt his thumb press against my clit, rubbing tight and slow circle against it, my legs tightening around his waist. He moved his hips a bit faster, his cock dragging against my walls. His thumb abandoned my clit, and his hands grabbed onto my hips, holding them tightly, fingertips pressing deeply into my ass.

“Fuck me Harvey.” I breathed out.

“How do you want it, darling?” I pressed my lips together and a small giggle sounded in my throat from the pet name that fell from his lips, I felt my body curl a bit as his hand touched my check. His tone was as smooth as whiskey dripping with lust,”tell me how you want me to fuck you.”

“Faster…” I swallowed and took a breath, my voice a bit shakey,”and deeper.”

His movements did become a bit faster, still focused on not hurting me, but he did pressed his cock deeper into me on each thrust.

“Good good.” My lips fell open as he started thrusting harder, his tip starting to hit that spot in me,”oooh yess.”

“found it?”

“Uuhuh.” I moaned, and he thrusted his tip against it again, but harder, to confirm and it was confirmed with an unsolicited moan.

“You’re taking me so well, (y/n). So daaamn good.” He groaned, his thrusts stayed sharp and even but he sped up more, rocking his hips into my pelvis. I tightened around him getting lost in the feeling of his tip sliding through my walls, the sound of his skin now slapping against mine, and the way groans and light moans fell from his lips. My heels dug into his back and his name trailed out of my lips. I felt my slick drip down my ass and into the towel, hearing how wet his motions sound now. I felt his body lean forwards, his thrusts kept steady, but slowed down a bit, fucking deeply into me, his cock grinding perfectly against my g-spot now.

“Oooh! Har-Harvey!” I loudly moaned out, it didn’t hurt, well a little bit, but it felt too good to complain. He was tall so his forearms laid flat on the bed trapping my head. He placed a kiss on my forehead, my hands wrapping around his back and gripping onto his shoulders. I couldn’t help but moan Into his ear, erotic moans falling from my lips as my pussy got wetter.

“Such a good girl. Taking my cock like this.” He strained out, my nails were digging into his skin as he sped up more. My eyes clamped shut, sob like moans ripping out of my throat, that heat building up in my lower abdomen telling me I was the verge of spilling over.

“Ha-Harvey,” I breathed out, my words whined ,”I’m gon-I’m gonna cum.”

“Cum on my cock, darling.” He groaned into my ear. His breath was hot against my skin, and the erotic groans falling from his lips were a perfect music to my ears. My left hand slid off his back, and I felt his weight shift, and I peeled my eyes open. He didn’t have his glasses on, and he was propped up on left arm, his right hand went back to my pussy, his hand pressed down on my pelvis, his thumb rubbing my clit quickly.

“Harvey! Aaaah fuuuuck!” My back arched up and a moan tore out of me, as my orgasm ripped through me. I saw starbursts behind my closed eyes, a rush of heat covering my whole body as it tensed up. My walls clamped around him as my right hands nails scraping against his back and he let out a strained groan.

“That’s it…That’s it.” He cooed, and I felt

His cock twitch inside of me as he fucked me through my high.

He kept his pace as steady as he could, going back to standing, his thumb abandoned my clit. I looked at him with heavy lids, watching his face,his glasses were back on, his lips were parted and his eyes watched his cock thrust in and out of me , and how his hands gripped onto my thighs.

“Come on Harv.” My tone tripped with ecstasy, as I propped up on my arms a bit to watch him and his body better, his eyes met mine, half lidded, before looking down, watching the way my chest moved from his thrusts,”cum for me Harvey.”

I felt his cock twitch more inside of me, his thrust still felt good and I couldn’t help but moan.

“Fuck.” He groaned out, his neck straining, his body tightening, and I bit my lip at the sight of him on the verge of coming undone, but there was something holding him back, himself really.

“You-you can cum inside of me Harv..” I breathed out and swallowed and he locked his eyes with mine,”you can cum wherever.”

I relaxed my legs grip on his waist, and with those words he finally came undone. He slid out of me quickly, his hand stroking his cock roughly, spirting white cum onto my stomach. His head lulled back as he stroked his cock, slowing it down that last bit dripped down the bottom of his head and onto my stomach.

He breathed heavily as my legs fell from his waist and he sat down in the edge of the bed and fell into his back next to me. I closed my legs and r looked up and over at him, hand on his chest, catching his breath. I kissed his shoulder and he looked over at me, a blissed out look on his face and I smiled.

“You got game Harv.” I giggled and looked down at my stomach, and he sat up.

“I’ll get you cleaned up.” He leaned to me and placed a kiss on my lips before standing up, and proceeded to do just that.

The next day, noon

Harvey slept over last night, but when I woke up at six he was already gone, there was a note on the kitchen table in his hand writing that advised me to hydrate and thanking me for the good night. The wine glasses that were left outside were clean and on the drying rack as well. I had already gotten what I had to get done outside done, but it was another rainy day, absolutely down pouring. I had to change my clothes even though I had on my rain jacket, so I decided today would be a day that I would take to myself.

I was laying in the couch reading, some cable show playing on the tv. My reading was interrupted by a knock on the door, so I placed my marker in the book and got up quickly and headed to the door. I unlocked it and opened it.

“Hi.” Harvey smiled, one hand held a soaked umbrella, his other was behind his back.

“That umbrella didn’t do you too well.” I giggled, seeing the rain spots on his button up, he looked at his shirt and chuckled.

“I guess not, at least I’m not soaked though…I’m sorry I walked out early, there was a shipment coming to the clinic at six thirty I had to be there for.” He explained.

“That’s alright, thanks for cleaning the glasses.” I wasn’t in front of the doorway he could walk in but he hasn’t,”what do you need Harv?”

“I…I wanted to give you this.” The hand that was behind his back came out and revealed a gorgeous bouquet. My lips fell over in shock and soon those like formed the biggest smile. My cheeks flushed as I took it from him, I looked at it for a few seconds before looking back at him,”you’re right…maybe this could work.”

[kkami-writes]

hybrid hearts ━ chapter one. cw. the briefest mention of blood wc. 2k

Time had always felt too slow, yet impossibly fast at the same time to you. Some days had felt like they would drag on endlessly with you feeling bored out of your mind, wondering if this was how life was gonna feel like forever. While some days you would blink and then suddenly the day was over. Sometimes even weeks would pass like this as well. That feeling that your life was passing you by, feeling like you had nothing to show for it was overwhelming at times.

But you supposed it wasn’t all that terrible though. You had a job you loved, having opened up a book cafe after your parents had passed. You had inherited a rather large sum of money from them, as well as their old house they owned in a nearby cozy suburb. However, it had only served to make you feel much lonelier what with all these empty rooms for little old you.

Weeks turned into months and the seasons changed from winter to spring. But your daily routine didn’t change much at all. Although you didn’t necessarily hate it, sometimes it just felt so repetitive that you thought you might lose your mind.

Everyone around you seemed to change, constantly adapting to the flow of time. Yet you found yourself utterly the same and all alone. Though that last part might have been partially your fault, you’ve never really tried to branch out from the cozy bubble you lived in. It was a constant cycle of feeling lonely, yet feeling too attached to your quiet lifestyle to put yourself out there.

It’s early evening on a Saturday when that changes.

You’re sat on the small swinging couch that's connected to your porch, happily curled up with a book and some tea. You were constantly trying to read all sorts of genres, needing to keep up with the latest books so you could have the cafe well stocked. However you found it hard to concentrate when the neighborhood kids were kicking up a ruckus nearby. Their high pitched screams hurting your eardrums.

When you look up to glare at them, it’s then you realize that they’re surrounding one of your trash cans, kicking it around and laughing. You’re quick to get up, abandoning your book as you storm over to them.

“Hey!” Your voice is loud and demanding and it effectively startles the kids. That’s all it takes for them to scatter, running in all different directions. You roll your eyes, not bothering to run after the annoying brats but you are rather curious as to why they had been kicking at your trash in the first place.

Glancing into the bin you find an entirely white ferret sans the small singular black dot under its left eye. The animal is on its hind legs, jumping up and trying desperately to get out of the circular death trap. The trash is only half full and it’s not enough for the ferret to be able to crawl out.

“Hey little guy, you must have been scared from all that kicking” At your voice the ferret startles, falling backwards before squirming back onto its legs. You can’t help the laugh that bubbles up in your throat at its dramatic reaction. “Are you ok? Were you trying to look for food?” You question even though you know it’s not gonna respond.

In the last fifty or so years, hybrids have been woven into modern society after their discovery — though not everyone had treated them fairly. Most people see them as pets, things to own or even worse, sex slaves. Many laws for hybrids have been put in place in an attempt to better protect them, but they were still pretty restrictive. In most cases, people can’t tell a normal animal to a hybrid in it’s domesticated form, so you couldn’t be 100% sure if this ferret in your trash was a hybrid or not.

You had a good feeling though.

The animal glanced at you like it was sizing you up, eyes squinting and head tilting. If the animal was indeed a hybrid, it was most likely a stray. Hybrid law dictates that anyone under 21 required an “owner” or a “guardian” to be in charge of them. In the end, this actually left a lot of strays on the street from terrible people who would abandon their hybrids for various reasons. None could ever be good enough in your eyes to just throw an innocent life onto the streets. At 21 though, a hybrid could declare itself independent and gain the rights to live on their own. Actually finding a place to live was an entirely different problem on it’s own. Many landlords would implemented a no independent hybrids rule and even places of employment didn’t hire hybrids at all or would give them less pay compared to an “actual” human.

People were cruel to things they didn’t understand, so quick to dehumanize someone who might be a little different.

“Are you stuck? Do you want some help?” you call out again softly, slowly extending your hand out to the animal hoping to show it that you meant no harm. The ferret doesn’t take it that way however, it’s teeth sinking into your index finger the moment it gets close enough. You wince at the sharp teeth piercing your flesh, sucking a breath between your teeth at the pain. Still, you don’t shake or make anymore sudden movements.

“S-see? Not so scary right?” The smile you give is slightly strained and the ferret lets out a soft whine. Slowly, it lets go of your finger, backing away with its head down as if ashamed. When you pull your hand back you can see some blood dripping down from the small indentations. “Oof, you’ve got some teeth on you huh?”

“Here, I'll put the trash down ok? So you can crawl out if you want. I’m gonna go address my wound and I'll even leave my door open if you’d like to come in. No pressure but I do have some food if you’d like,” Your smile remains kind as you glance down at the white animal before slowly moving the trash down to its side so it can crawl out.

You turn to walk back towards the house, taking a quick glance behind you to see if maybe the ferret was also following. You try to ignore the disappointment that fills your chest when it doesn’t.

In the kitchen you thoroughly rinse off the wound, waiting for the bleeding to stop before applying some ointment and a bandaid. You won’t lie, it throbs a little but you try to pay it no mind. You remember you’ve left your book outside so you go to retrieve it until you feel something nudging at your foot.

Looking down, you see the pretty little ferret by your feet and a smile immediately graces your lips. In the bright light of your kitchen you can see that its fur is slightly dirty, probably a result from being a stray for quite a while and you briefly wonder how long it’s been in your trash.

“Hi there, are you hungry?” The ferret makes a squeak like sound that manages to makes you smile even brighter at how cute it sounds. You move to open the fridge, glancing around for stuff you have. You’re 100% sure now that that small ferret is in fact a hyrbid, with how it’s been understanding your words and it’s behavior.

You don’t have much in your fridge currently, making a mental note to go grocery shopping some time soon. So you make due with some measly shredded chicken, placing it on a plate before offering it to the ferret. The speed in which the small thing practically scarfs it down is impressive.

“Careful, don’t choke,” you laugh, this time really leaving to grab your book and tea from the porch. When you come back the ferret is at the door waiting for you as if unsure if it should leave or not now that you’ve fed it.

“Do you maybe wanna take a shower? I’m sure you could use one,” the same squeaky noise emits from its tiny mouth and you let out a small laugh. That sound is going to be etched in your memories forever. “ok, sounds good. let me show you,”

So you guide the tiny ferret to your bathroom, showing it where everything is. “I’ll also leave some clothes on the bed if you choose to transform. Oh— but I don’t know if you’re a boy or a girl…well, most of my stuff is gender neutral anyway. Don’t feel pressured though,” With that you leave the ferret to its business. You lay a simple shirt and a baggy pair of sweatpants you hoped would fit whether the ferret ended up being a girl or a boy.

You can hear the shower running and you take that as your cue to leave, exiting your bedroom and closing the door behind you to give them some proper privacy. Glancing at the time you noticed it was getting a little late. Your daily sleep schedule had consisted of trying to be in bed by ten, just yet another boring part of your mundane routine. Though to be fair, owning a coffee shop had required you to open rather early, even if you only had a handful of early morning regulars.

Glancing into your fridge once again, you scope out some ingredients before deciding on an easy kimchi stew, making quick work of the vegetables as you swayed along to a random playlist. In the middle of cooking you feel something crawling up your leg and when you look down, low and behold, it’s the little ferret. It climbs the rest of your body with ease before settling down on your shoulder, to watch you cook. You notice its coat is much whiter now and smells faintly of your vanilla body wash.

“Hi, enjoy your shower?” The ferret chitters back and you have to bite back a coo from the sound. It just chills on your shoulder, seemingly interested in watching you as you cook. “Don’t know if you’re still hungry so i’ll leave the leftovers in the fridge and you can have it whenever you want,” You say while pouring yourself a bowl of your stew. You add some rice before moving to sit at your kitchen table. The ferret runs down your arm and onto the table, curling itself into a little ball.

“If you’re tired you could always sleep. There are three spare rooms and you could pick one if you’d like. At least to just stay the night,” It lifts its head to look at you, blinking slowly before jumping off the table to explore the rest of the house. You eat in silence, something you were used to so you don’t completely mind that the ferret has left you alone. You could have wished that it had kept you some company though. Even though he wouldn’t talk.

The rest of the night goes as normal and you don’t see the ferret again until you’re finally crawling into bed. Once you’re tucked under the sheets the familiar gleam of white fur is climbing up into your bed. You blink at the animal and it blinks back.

“You want to sleep here? Are you sure?” It hops over to you and crawls under the sheets, burying itself into your warm blankets. You let out a small laugh, seeing the small bump taking residence in your bed. “Well, if you’re sure,” You really don’t mind, which is probably strange in itself - to let a strange hybrid into your home and now your bed. Still, if it had wanted to hurt you it would have the moment it came inside or even after you fed it. Maybe it was a little naive of you but you had always tried to believed in the good in everyone. Even if people didn’t do the same for you.

Or you were just incredibly lonely. Could be possible.

You don’t continue that train of thought and instead, bid the ferret goodnight, turning off the lights and falling into a deep sleep.

[em-harlsnow]

difference between the first seasons of shameless and the last seasons imo

read beneath the cut, it’s pretty long

what i think really changed about the last seasons of shameless compared to the first seasons is how they tried to incorporate the audience. i’ve seen writers/producers say that they tried to set up the cameras in a way that made it feel like the audience was a part of the family, or a visitor confused by all the chaos.

i think that idea was lost in later seasons and you stop feeling like a part of the show, but even more than that, the audience becomes very detached from everything.

further, i think the characters began to lack the same weight that they did before. as they all start to grow up and become steadier as people, the show also loses its chaotic appeal. by the time the characters were all adults, the writers seemed lost on how to add that gritty dark element that the show had initially without becoming repetitive. there’s only so many times that frank can have some ridiculous storyline that hurts his kids where fiona has to pick up the pieces. it gets boring.

so to try and stop that happening, they ran with old comedic devices that i felt shameless had always deviated from, or at least exaggerated. but no, in the last seasons the show fully leans into them. it becomes more like a sitcom, like modern family or friends.

with tami and lip, it was tami getting insecure about lip possibly liking someone else and lip coming up with all these schemes on how to spend less money and hide that he was going for cheaper options from his girlfriend.

with debbie, it was the show leaning into the whole milkovich/gallagher thing and trying for a new pairing which honestly was entirely lacking. we had more development on her and mattie’s storyline (which was gross) than her and sandy. they turn debbie into a caricature and leave her without much emotional development, taking away any of the audience’s compassion towards her.

with carl, it was the whole police thing, where he struggled with his annoying boss and then his second annoying boss.

with liam, it was him becoming very mature very quickly, but lacking the same depth that debbie and carl got at his age. that’s just my opinion of him, bare in mind i haven’t watched his scenes in season 10/11 recently.

with ian and mickey, it was them becoming that TYPICAL comedic couple, with the show taking away a lot of what made them different. So many of their storylines were full of pointless arguments and unsatisfying resolutions. they tried to make them almost middle class, removing mickey’s skill in crime and making him look lazy. taking away all of ian’s emotional development and making him seem pissed off constantly. they don’t seem to understand each other the way they did before.

don’t even get me started on kev and v. they were one of the most interesting storylines at the beginning, and they suddenly became boring.

fiona left, so i can’t comment much on her.

shameless also lacks the connection the show used to have between storylines. every character was somehow connected to another character at the start, all the different plots influencing each other. that quality was lost later on.

at the beginning, the show made great points about poverty and politics without needed to obviously explain each one. it was metaphorical, an example of poverty and of people and relationships and life. In later seasons, it becomes too obvious for me. the messages the show is trying to convey are much more clear and surface level, which means the impact of these messages is reduced.

it’s like the difference between someone giving you an example of a specific person who has been abused, let’s say. You can either tell an emotive story about that abuse or you can say, they were abused, this is wrong. shameless originally was emotive, giving you connections to characters and therefore adding weight and meaning to their stories. It becomes shallow when the show gives its messages in plain ways. like the conversation that ian had with that woman in the furniture shop about the election results in season 11. sure, ian was right, but it doesn’t have the same impact when delivered in that way. if they’d done the show the same as they did in the first seasons, i’m sure the message would have been conveyed more passionately and effectively.

now, this is just my opinion. i don’t hate the last two seasons, but it wasn’t very shameless-esc. I also don’t write TV shows, so i don’t know exactly how to fix all those things

i do enjoy the last seasons, it wasn’t all bad. but it was different to the first ones, and that is something to comment on.

[anyaismindless]

Last night, while I was scrolling away, I came across an ad for one of thoses merging games, it was pretty generic, but I was bored and couldn't fall asleep, so I decided to give it a try.

As soon as I open the game a annoying tune started playing that couldn't be muted, I lowered the volume so it wasn't as uncomfortable. The main menu displayed the npcs of the game, they were cute girls in adorable outfits.

The actual gameplay is the same you found in all of this type of games, but the background was kinda flashing, it took sometime for my eyes to adjust. Well, beside that, everytime you made a combo, one of the girls appeared saying things like "good job", "well done", "good girl", it may sound silly, but the praise from the npcs only made me want to play more.

It's funny, but even being generic, with the repetition it can become quite addictive. I literally couldn't stop playing, not that I really wanted to. I liked being a good girl, and good girls keep playing the game, playing the game made feel really good.

But then I reached my daily limit of levels, I got so anxious, I wanted to play more, I needed to play more. So it was only logical for me to pay to get more levels to play.

The more I played the game, the more the cute npcs told me not to think, to just keep playing the game, to be a good girl. And being a good girl was making me get so wet, I needed to touch myself, but I wasn't told to do so, I was so hot, and then I reached my new limit of levels.

I couldn't stop now, I need more, so I paid for more levels, the npcs praised me for doing so, and even allowed me to masturbate with my free hand. I kept touching as I played, until I was told to orgasm, and it was amazing, I never felt so good in my entire life, as I enjoyed the afterglow, I just increased the volume of the game, and let the lovely soundtrack take over my mind, and now I'm here.

Sooo... you guys should totally play the game too, is so good, the best game ever.

[fogdraws]

A Scandal at Baker Street,

An ACD Sherlock fanfiction oneshot based on "A Scandal in Bohemia".

"He could not help but bear the impression that the pair held a deeper meaning behind the gazes and touches they'd shared so earnestly. Looking out the window and to the repetitive London landscape, he decided not to venture further into his poderings; he certainly did not wish to murk the image he had of the detective — nor the doctor’s — with such assumptions. Soot and ash from the city filled his nose as he let sleep take over his mind; now, he could only hope."

Full piece under the cut!

He was nervous. He should not be, but when your whole reputation (and relationship, though the latter concerned him far less) depends on this, it may be understandable to fret a little. So yes, he was anxious as he brought his hands to adjust the mask that covered the upper half of his face — a measure he took to protect himself; today he would be Count Von Kramm, nevertheless.

A plaque, in which was written “Baker Street, 221B”, came into his vision just before the brougham came to a halt. The modest brick facade was unassuming, though the name it bore was whispered in both awe and reverence across the continent. From what he was told, this apartment block — quite underwhelming, if he was to be truthful — was home to a brilliant, energetic man, one that would have (or find) the answer to any enigma given in a manner no one else could compare to. He hopes that’s true, for he had come from a long way, Germany, just for this.

“Come in!” A voice clamored from inside the door when he knocked it. A sweet old lady had escorted him inside the block. Once again, supposed Von Kramm adjusts the black mask, pushing its tails to tighten the hold — it was rather loose and annoying.

Upon opening the door, he was met not by the lone figure he had anticipated, but by two men: one standing tall and lanky, dark hair messy and looking quite in need of a trim; and the other, on a heavier build, in a much more neat fashion, sat and with a notebook in his hands. That defied his former expectations — the matter was of the most private sense, not meant to be shared to noone more than the detective. Both of them looked at him, expectantly.

“You had my note?” He didn’t really know which one was supposed to be Sherlock Holmes. Both of them seemed to feel at home. “I told you that I would call.”

“Pray take a seat. This is my good friend and colleague, Dr. Watson, who is occasionally good enough to help me in my cases,” the fair-haired gentleman brightened up to that, giving a lighthearted chuckle. “Whom have I the honor to address?” Funny, he thought, that he kind of expected to be the detective, the more preen one.

“You may address me as the Count Von Kramm, a Bohemian nobleman. I understand that this gentleman, your friend, is a man of honor and discretion, whom I may trust with a matter of the most extreme importance. If not, I should much prefer to communicate with you alone.” He would not let himself be vulnerable.

At that, Dr. Watson made it as if to stand up, but was quickly caught by the wrist by Mr. Holmes’ own hand. Although initially he looked a bit distraught, the doctor quickly looked at the other with… something tender in his eyes. With gentle yet firm pressure, the tall man guided his companion back into his seat, their proximity leaving Von Kramm distinctly uncomfortable.

It was a quiet exchange, nothing more than a fleeting gesture between the two men, but it left him unsettled, as though he had intruded upon a private understanding, one far deeper than he could comprehend. In their shared glance, he felt not merely a lack of privacy, but an absence of control. Like he shouldn't be there.

Mr. Holmes didn’t move, leaning towards and looking directly at the doctor, both his hands firmly keeping the wrists of the fair-haired gentleman on the armrest. “It is both, or none,” the consulting detective said, low and slowly. Not looking at Von Kramm, as he should, but at Dr. Watson, still — much like the words were directed to the latter, not the former.

With a swift movement, the detective was upright again. Dr. Watson shifted in his seat, tangling his legs so they were crossed — the notebook, long ago forgotten on his lap, was at his hands again. “You may say before this gentleman anything which you may say to me,” Mr. Holmes affirmed, as if he hadn't just done the strangest thing.

He shrugged his shoulders, “Then I must begin,” he started, “by binding you both to absolute secrecy for two years; at the end of that time the matter will be of no importance.” After this display, he's not sure it's possible to separate the pair, even though it would be far more preferable to deal with the detective alone.

“I promise.”

“And I,” Dr. Watson complied.

Once again, it felt much like the words weren't meant to him, but to one another.

The doctor scribbled something on the small notebook of his and, as Von Kramm made to look at it discreetly, the fair-haired gentleman slightly covered the paper.

“You will excuse this mask,” he tried to ignore the pair’s mannerisms and the implications that came through his mind. “The august person who employs me wishes his agent to be unknown to you, and I may confess at once that the title by which I have just called myself is not exactly my own.”

When he told mr. Holmes whom the detective had the honour of working for, he was met with the utmost disdain, raising annoyance upon himself. The man had dared to close his eyes and relax in the nearest armchair, striking a most dramatic pose. Dr. Watson stared at him out of the corner of his eye. “I was aware of it,” the detective said, and then, “I was also aware of that,” when Von Kramm tried to emphasize the absolute import of the ordeal.

Should this man be the best detective of Europe whole, he didn't wish to see what would be of the lesser ones. Von Kramm looked over to the fair-haired gentleman to express his indignation; he only had attention for the detective, however, legs still crossed. Upon studying Dr. Watson's expression for a second, the look he saw in his eyes was one of badly-contained longing. Von Kramm, then, avoided looking at the doctor again.

“If your Majesty would condescend to state your case,” the consulting detective remarked, “I should be better able to advise you,” as he slowly reopened his eyes, a look of impatience stamped on his arched eyebrows. Much like he was bored out of his mind; this man was getting onto his frail nerves.

Then, what mr. Sherlock had just said dawned on Von Kramm, drawing out a sharp inhale out of himself. He sprang up from his chair. It would do nothing now, to pretend his identity. This man knew it!

In a fit of rage, he — the King of Bohemia, had now been caught — tore off the mask that had irritated his face for the whole day, tossing it upon the floor. “You are right,” he raised his voice, “I am the King. Why should I attempt to conceal it?” The doctor appeared to be surprised too. And never did he seem to stop writing words in that notebook of his. “Why, indeed?” Mr. Holmes murmured, as if the king wasn't ready to yell and shout.

Forcing his temper to subside, the king proceeded to tell his story. Mr. Holmes listened in a calm manner, making the effort of opening his grey eyes every so often, only to remark something to Dr. Watson with a quiet smile on his lips and close them again. To that, the fair-haired gentleman always nodded in contempt or flatter the man's deduction abilities. Their dynamic seemed stable, comfortable. For the whole ordeal, the detective constantly yawned and feigned disinterest; but everytime the king convinced himself that the man wasn't listening, he was surprised with the clever wit of an observation that couldn't be made out of disattention.

Somehow, the king had grown quite accustomed to the way mr. Holmes worked. After they had discussed the money involved — Dr. Watson's face, when the detective opened the chamois bag full of gold he'd received, had been absolutely remarkable — he was quickly escorted down the stairs and out the door by both of them. The mask was almost forgotten, but the doctor gave it back to him at the last minute.

“Then, goodnight, your Majesty, and I trust that we shall soon have some good news for you.” Mr. Holmes said as he opened the door. The brougham stood patiently for him at the side of the road, as it should; the king entered it as agile as he could, not to raise any opinions from the passersby.

“And we must have a good night, Watson,” was the last thing he heard from the pair. As for sight, mr. Holmes’ lips appeared to form a small smile as he looked dr. Watson from head to toe, whose hands went somewhere near the detective's waist as the door was closed shut.

He could not help but bear the impression that the pair held a deeper meaning behind the gazes and touches they'd shared so earnestly. Looking out the window and to the repetitive London landscape, he decided not to venture further into his poderings; he certainly did not wish to murk the image he had of the detective — nor the doctor’s — with such assumptions. Soot and ash from the city filled his nose as he let sleep take over his mind; now, he could only hope.

[inchidentally]

ok so I haven't done an insane and pointless landoscar post in a while so !!

I blurted most of this to @mecachrome and needed to like ground myself abt it but like.

Lando allowing himself to oscillate between extremes of Taking Your Affection For Granted/Being an Absolute Menace and Please Look at Me/Please Tell Me I'm Important to You is smth we only see him do w very very specific people. he's got to feel very secure that their attention and patience w him go hand in hand. namely we know of Max F, Jon, some of Lando's karting friends, and now Oscar. with literally everyone else he makes an effort to soften or balance himself and fit their energy (which tbh is how most of us are w friends and colleagues). but Lando is not Just Anyone and Not Just Some Guy so there's a special extra sector of friendship and affection there to be achieved if someone has the desire to.

and somehow to me it's like, Lando realizing so early on that Oscar really really really knew him and then gradually realizing that Oscar was continuing to study and learn him, it basically jumped his feeling of safety around Oscar to a degree he normally only feels around ppl he's known for a very long time.

and that a peruse through these two tags it becomes clear that Lando feels secure in putting Oscar through the paces of Lando's least happy and amenable moods possible. bc !! Oscar just smiles through it and doesn't get offended and almost sort of pushes through it as if to say you're not going to annoy me away mate, I've decided we're friends and that's it.

bc it's a test he knows Lando does when he's decided you're a Safe Person. like in Bahrain and Lando jokingly goes ugh! hi Oscar! and IMMEDIATELY switches to Osc bc he's in a Mood about having to discuss Bahrain as if they possibly could've learned much about the car yet and there's nothing rly to discuss but he doesn't want to take it out on Oscar … and then ! Oscar sees the pout on Lando's face, ignores everyone else and does this lean in and starts teasing Lando abt the repetitive questions they're being asked ! and Lando ! breaks out into this big smile and his mood just lifts !! bc Oscar knows exactly what to do !

and somehow that's all tied into how insanely clingy they both were at the start of the season and Lando esp was going a bit crazy with posting and reposting and commenting on content with Oscar or him and Oscar and how he felt this need to explain to Oscar why he went to see Daniel and not him bc wowwww he rly missed Oscar and the way Oscar just watches him and laughs at all his jokes and doesn't ask Lando to Be Anything Other than Himself bc Oscar takes the good and the bad bc it's Lando! Oscar had folded Lando into his life long before they even knew they'd be teammates!

which parallels the end of season video in Abu Dhabi or the Saudi post race video 'Straya Mate' and Lando is about to jump out of his skin to get Oscar to look at him !! and in those moments Oscar is a combination of tired and rly not enjoying media but Lando canNOT HANDLE when Oscar isn't watching him and Oscar seems sort of fed up with cameras so he STARES at Oscar's face and wriggles around and builds up to jokes bc he just needs to see himself having that effect on Oscar! and Oscar never lets him squirm for long and caves in to any joke Lando makes no matter how bad. and all of that fits so much w the sort of "soft dom" moments where ultimately, Lando views Oscar as one of the few people in his life who will Take Care of Him and who Knows What Lando Needs. but also !! it's a return of what Oscar does for Lando!

bc we've all seen him be like this w Max F and Jon and how no matter what flavor of Lando gets thrown at them - sweet or sour - they know just how he works and would never ever betray that level of trust by getting bored or disinterested or fed up with him. Max definitely has the most ability to scold Lando to order but tbh that happens v rarely and mostly he just mutters to himself or the camera and totally folds to Lando anyway.

but the difference is that Lando has years of proof on his side w Max and Jon and the other ppl he feels like this with. Oscar however is still a New Friend and he's got this whole settled, grown up life outside racing and Lando's relying a whole lot on the degree of commitment to McLaren that Oscar has shown again and again. they have friends in common and a drift compatible bond as teammates but they don't broadcast their interactions like most drivers do w other drivers so who knows how much Oscar has integrated in Lando's life outside of that? and I can only imagine Lando does NOT cope well with losing people he's brought into that degree of trust even tho from what we know he's never had that happen. but Oscar is so self-contained and reserved about the deeper parts of his personality so all of us sure can't say exactly how he'd react to him or Lando going to another team and you wonder how much Lando does ??

and godddd then we got this little glimpse into their natural dynamic and I end up finding myself hoping especially for Lando's sake that their friendship keeps getting stronger over the years they both know they have for sure together bc it's feels v safe to say that Oscar being someone else's teammate and not being Right There throughout the season would not be good for Lando !! </3

*obligatory reminder that I write these posts purely for fun and no I do not hinge any of my happiness in life on two men in racey cars - bc some ppl cannot tell what fandom is for and think everyone's deadly serious

[m4g3114n1c]

Make it worth my time.

Midas x Fem!Reader

tags: Consensual Sex, Missionary, Porn With Plot, Gun Kink, poc friendly, AFAB reader, Vaginal Sex, Degradation kink, Verbal Humiliation, BDSM, not so sane but consensual sex!, Blow Jobs, Semi-Public Sex, Face-Fucking, Multiple Orgasms, Dacryphilia, Dom/sub, Older Man/Younger Woman, Workplace Sex, Power Imbalance, Desk Sex, Sir is used a lot (⊃｡•́‿•̀｡)⊃Midas is SadisticChoking

summary: ur insufferable boss calls u down bc

Intern Reader x CEO Midas

Midas was an asshole. You said it, yet in the back of your mind you still felt guilt spreading through your veins, infecting your Midas-hating self. You shouldn’t feel bad for him. You shouldn’t feel for him at all.

A stern, strict, relentless man that overworked everybody to the point of exhaustion was somebody you should never feel bad for.

When you had been recruited to do the internship, it seemed fun, entertaining enough. A program for spies—man, you should’ve known how sketchy that sounded.

You were grown, you should know what a scam of a program it was. You had to work for minimum wage due to the fact there was a ton of people working at one place; the pay check had to be broken up in between all of you.

The thing was, Midas was rich enough to pay you all, especially you, since you were more focused in being his assistant. He set that goal for you the first time you arrived.

The touch of gold at his fingertips and yet he couldn’t offer one molecule of a golden nugget to his workers.

Cheap motherfucker.

How was that even possible? The ability of the golden touch and he was still so cheap. It frustrated you more than it should.

You felt like a moron at how much you thought this would be a fun job. His close friends seem to get better treatment at least, and go on useful missions that make an impact.

All what you had to do was organize, organize, and organize files.

If you wanted to sign up for a damn cubicle job, you would’ve done so, because this was insanely far from what you imagined the program was.

So, here you were now, almost eight hours straight of non-stop work. Once the clock hit three, you celebrated in your head; the champagnes popping and all.

It was finally time for you to go, time for you to relax. You had to clear your mind in your apartment.

You shut off your computer, grabbing your jacket, your bag, plus—things you still needed to work at even at home.

That’s how much he made you work. As annoying as he was, he seemed to really want specifically you to be his assistant. Odd enough.

The boring, crisp air of the fancy building and the repetitive click-and-clacking of the keyboards were making you crazy. It was so quiet, nobody spoke, and only worked. It made you wonder that possibly it was about Midas.

It was definitely about him and his rules. When you got here, the rules he set were ridiculous.

Why did he think, “No talking.” was such an amazing, life changing and jaw-dropping rule?

The rule was plastered everywhere, in posters and stickers. It seemed so simple, yet so restricting on you and everybody else who worked under him.

You couldn’t really dwell on the topic too much because you were under his agency, that you applied to.

“Hi,” A high pitched voice made your head sharply turn. Your eyes widened with bewilderment at how she spoke with such a full voice. It was Skye?.. You didn’t remember but you knew she was one of Midas’ friends.

Ah. So that’s why she was speaking in a full voice. You forgot his friends could only speak fully in an environment like this. Everybody usually heard them bantering in the meeting room.

“Boss wants you in there.” She whistled in a way of saying you fucked up on something. She felt regret because you seemed like you were going to shit yourself.

“No clue what it was about,” She shrugged, patting you on the shoulder as she parted ways with you. The way she reassured you by giving you a small and muttered, “good luck,” made you extremely nervous.

Now you were left standing with your bag, knowing you had to go in there. You sighed, returning your things on the desk.

Well. You had to suck up now. Suck up to your shitty boss. Hooray!

Midas got around your nerves sometimes, and it had made you slip up once or twice. One time, he told you he was going to shorten the deadline on something while you weren’t even halfway through it.

“That’s great,” You mumbled under your breath, sarcasm seeping through your voice, collecting the files on the desk he had properly reviewed already.

“Excuse me?” He snapped. Shit.

“Nothing, sir.”

He turned around like nothing happened, dismissing you with a short wave of his hand.

You’re pretty sure he knew that you were not fond of him, and don’t see him as a friend.

You dragged yourself mentally, yet kept your head up, straight posture and your heels clacking against the dark definitely expensive floors. Good impressions to not get fired.

You sighed once more, finding yourself at the front of his door. For the last time, you made sure to look presentable before knocking. This was a rare occurrence. He never called anybody down.

You brought your hand up to his door, wrist working itself to knock hard enough on the dark wood.

Even through his walls were thick, including his door, you swore you could hear his heavy and weary sigh from a mile away. There was a short shuffle of his feet.

“Come in,” He said loud enough for you to grasp the handle of the door and pull. You know his patience ran thin quickly.

The sweet scent of his office billowed into your face; it smelt of an expensive cologne, possibly sandalwood. It smelt pleasant though, like a warm cabin. The mellow smell lingered in the thick tension in the air. It suddenly felt warm in the room.

Midas stood at the front of the thick glass separating him and the device. His eyes stayed glued on his creation. A cold light shone against its smooth surface.

It made you laugh whenever you saw it in all its glory because of how it was just in his office. The large device felt so out of place, but also felt the opposite because of his huge ego.

He just seemed the type of person to showcase his greatest passions.

Your eyes danced over to everything in his room, to his framed photos of his friends, his golden arsenal but especially his victims. People he’s killed with the golden touch.

A shiver ran up your spine but you kept your head clear.

You couldn’t see much but he seemed disinterested, even though he called you down there in the first place. His arms were behind his back, facing you. It felt like you were walking on eggshells, shifting a step, but before you could even walk even closer—

“Lock the door,” He followed by briefly stating your name.

Your heart dropped, feeling the anxiety peering in slowly.

Was he going to kill you? He definitely was.

It was difficult to distinguish his emotion since he didn’t exactly display it for you to see. His tone was monotone and his face was the same as it usually was, adorned with a scorn.

You kept yourself composed, turning around to turn the lock of the door. You stood by the door, and Midas turned his head obscurely, the warm light caught his amber eye. He didn’t break eye contact.

“Come here.” He turned himself around fully.

Standing straight at about 6 feet and an inch, you did not want to mess with your boss.

You obliged, approaching his desk so you were right in front of it, and him.

You absentmindedly lined the tip of your pointed heels to be right on the edge of the rug. It was like an imaginary boundary.

“Are you enjoying your time here?” He suddenly questioned and you felt yourself shift into that interviewee mindset.

“Yes, sir. I am.”

You swore you saw the corner of his mouth twitch, trying to form a sort of sardonic smile. It was like his eyes were taking you apart, picking each piece of your nervous movement to analyze and trying to figure out how you felt.

He pulled his obnoxious leather and gold-lined chair out, settling on the chair before pushing himself closer to be tucked at the desk.

He gestured to one of the chairs.

“Take a seat,”

A part of you wanted to defy his order to piss him off and sit in the other.

You didn’t, and sat in the one he gestured to, which was closer to his desk.

He stared at you with a straight face. He was so intense.

“Be honest, will you?” He shrugged, trying to seem indifferent about the topic. He was trying to pry how you truly felt about him out of you, because he knew it was buried deep.

“If you’re going to be my assistant, you need to know what’s best for this agency,”

You wanted to say how stupid his system was, how cheap he was despite having the golden touch, and how he was an asshole. The thing is, you didn’t have it enough in you to say so.

“I’m—“ You began but felt that you were a tad bit too passionate about the topic. You started once again, tone professional.

“Sir, the way you run things..”

“Yes?” He raised an eyebrow, already feeling skeptical about letting you speak about this.

He absolutely fucking hated it when people dragged him for how he ran his own agency. Yes, he asked for criticism but it wasn’t to actually change anything.

Why would he?

It was working like a well oiled machine anyway, so what was your issue?

“It’s awkward, doesn’t feel like anything’s getting done when nobody talks to eachother.”

Midas shrugged, leaning back in his chair. Here he went. His body language just screamed an arrogant, rich and conceited man.

“Well, it’s not a preschool, is it?”

That caught you so off guard you had the temptation to laugh at his remark. He was right, it didn’t have to be a jolly, holding hands, and my little pony type friendship sort of thing, but it was still important to create a comfortable work environment.

“No, sir, but I conducted a survey which revealed that 87% of your workers—“

“You broke my rules?”

You stopped yourself, and sighed.

You didn’t mean to slip up like that.

Well, you couldn’t take it back anymore. Hopefully, he liked you a lot and wouldn’t fire you for that.

“That’s not the point.” You felt like you were trying so hard to convince him that what he was doing was shitty. It was as if you were talking to a brick wall.

“Yes, it is. You know how crucial it for their work to go uninterrupted, by doing that, you’ve partially slowed some of their progress.”

There it is. He had overworked everybody just for him to sit in his comfortable office, staring at his big ball of creation.

“See, that’s the issue. That’s your issue. You don’t care.”

“Am I supposed to? Business is business. You’re not here to make friends. Fall in love. Hold hands.”

He rolled his eyes, finding your idea completely wrong.

“You’re unbelievable.”

Oh wow.

He’s never seen you this assertive before towards him. He saw potential.

“Alright,” He said, somewhat defeated with your short-lived argument, beckoned you over with his finger.

Although you were still pissed at him, it felt like your body was owned by him.

Woah. Not owned.

It felt like your body just couldn’t stop following his every single order. The thought of you wanting to appease him in every way possible had you embarrassed. You hated him, but still wanted to impress him.

The sound of a drawer rolling caught your attention when you maneuvered yourself around the desk to stand beside his chair.

He pulled out a thick stack of cash from the drawer like it was nothing. The drawer was filled with wads of hundred dollar bills. He turned, still in his chair, humming as he didn’t even count it, and offered it to you.

You were unimpressed at this and he was stunned.

Were you asking for more money?

He didn’t care if you took all of his money because of how truly wealthy he was. When you didn’t take it from his hands, he took more from his stash, stacking it on and lying them on your hand.

The stack eventually weighed heavy on your palm. It was so heavy, you had to support it with both hands to refrain it from toppling over.

“No, this wasn’t what I asked for nor what I wanted. You can’t bribe me.” You looked at him, offended that he would think of something as stupid as this; bribery would never work on you.

It was nice seeing and smelling the fresh bills but you placed them on his desk with a smack.

His neutral expression shifted into something darker, something more formidable than usual. Midas frowned, bothered by your ungrateful attitude. At this angle, you were taller since he was sat down.

That didn’t last for long, as Midas stood up so quickly, the force of his movement sent his chair behind him strolling to hit something with a soft thud.

He towered over you, eyes glowering. He was only about an inch away from you. The propinquity of him worked; it was an intimidating tactic and it fucking worked on you.

“Sir,” You shakily said, feeling yourself in a daze. A sense of vertigo clouded your mind, blocking out any oncoming thoughts.

A blanket of blood flooded your cheeks, painting them crimson at the intimate proximity. In such a tone that sounded apologetic, it was ludicrous thinking about how you had been arguing with him.

At the sight of this, the dim lighting casted an attractive shadow against his angular face. You hated to admit it, but Midas was hot. You always felt in denial thinking about it, now here you were, lips inches away from his.

You knew you were only in denial due to the fact he was the boss and you were the intern.

“What do you want, then?” He said with a soft scoff, knowing he could fulfill your wishes so easily.

He found your fierce ambitions and your overall attitude amazing qualities. He also found you to be extremely attractive. That was a quality that always made him feel differently.

Your eyes darted away from his. This was a weird situation to be stuck in. Your boss and you, locked in his office and an inch away.

He noticed you weren’t pulling away.

“Just,” You hesitated but continued. “give me the money, please.” The state of affairs had you spouting shit you would never say in a million years. You begging for money was something you blurted out because of your panicked state.

Something about this whole thing made you want to scamper away.

Another part of you was leaning into it, wanting to know how his hands would feel against your bare skin, his lips on yours; would he fuck you rough, or would he fuck you agonizingly slow?

Would he praise you or would he condemn you to being useless?

You had to know.

You needed to know.

It was killing you, the part of not knowing was tearing you to shreds, eating you on the inside out.

“Please, what?”

He was feeding into your delusion—

“Please, sir.”

but you just couldn’t help yourself sometimes.

The way you sounded, you uttering that in a voice that sounded so heavenly, it took every inch of him to grab you. His gaze wandered to your soft lips, stained with lipstick, he found even more tempting to smear off.

“Do you really want the money?” Midas wasn’t blind, he had seen your nervous and your complexion flushed. Your short breaths, trying to inhale all of his air. No mistake, you were aroused. Turned on to the max.

“No.”

“Good.” His tone lowered to one that was filled with satisfaction and relief at your answer.

The function of your breathing had stopped. You couldn’t even comprehend Midas’ slow, yet calculated approach to stoop down and capture your lips in a tantalizing, short kiss.

His lips whilst pressed against yours felt surprisingly soft. Your eyes closed quite late, but felt prone to more.

A warm feeling erupted within your chest, spreading across your body at the first contact of his lips. It felt like a pit of fire inside you was slowly being fed by the smallest of his ministrations.

Midas leaned forward once more, allowing you to relax as he had to slightly accommodate to your height to kiss you. His larger hand came down to tilt your head to an angle he wanted.

You felt him grab your hip to keep you still, and the firm hold he had on you had been the last thing you needed to give in.

His stern hold indicated the longing of you, the longing for anybody, actually. Since he and his wife got divorced due to issues, he’d been desperate, not begging but he was.

He hated how you made him feel whenever you were around.

Every time you walked into his office, he tried his best to stay professional.

He didn’t even know you, apart from your résumé; you didn’t know him personally either.

He pulled you in, feeling his exhales from his nose as he tried to keep a steady breath. “Midas, sir,” You muttered in between kisses, pausing him by giving him a firm push of your palm.

He responded by grasping your wrist, almost in a way that told you he didn’t like getting touched without permission. You leaned back, but you couldn’t move much.

“Are we allowed to do this?” You asked, slightly hesitant to even ask.

“I make the rules, what do you think?” He sarcastically replied with a small tilt of his head.

Your silence and actions spoke louder than words when you pressed yourself closer to him. He noticed, pressing his silken lips against yours once more, reigniting his inner desires in him he’d long forgotten about.

Your hand reached down to his crotch, thinking you were doing him a favour. Midas’ fifth sense was quickly set off, not being able to see but sense your hand hovering just right above.

His hand once again, grabbed your wrist once more and this time pushed away.

“Are you fucking serious?” He asked, slightly breathless at your attempt. He sounded so pissed.

You might’ve misread the situation, maybe he didn’t want sex right now. You were in the wrong for trying to assume.

“I’m so sorry, I thought—“ You said so quickly it sounded jumbled together before being interrupted by Midas.

“Thought what? Do you think I like you ?” He emphasized the words and they hit you harder than you thought.

“Get on your knees.” He sneered, almost in a way that felt like he was humiliating you.

God, in such a sick way, you loved it.

Without hesitation, you slowly sunk down, feeling the rough material of the rug harshly against your knees.

This view of Midas felt more domineering, his eyes scanned your face. His face was riddled with contempt. Silence filled the air again, making him even more irritated.

“Are you just going to sit there and be useless all day?”

Your eyes wandered down to the visible tent in his pants, wanting to feel how hard he felt against yourself if you were ever to grind against him.

The thought made you squeeze your thighs, rubbing them against one another to soothe the growing desperation within your cunt.

“Please, let me.”

He nodded, watching with an amused expression as your hands fumbled with his metal belt.

The sharp clinking of his belt made his slacks feel a lot tighter. You then unzipped them, unbuttoned them and caught a glimpse of what you were dealing with.

His boxers were a plain black, and if you couldn’t see well, you wouldn’t have noticed the wet spot where his tip laid against. The outline of his was huge.

To not make him any more impatient, you tugged his boxers down enough. His cock was close enough to your face that could see the pre-cum beading out of the flushed tip.

He was more longer than he was in width, but other than that, you just wanted to take him all in your mouth. You hoped you could.

Midas pushed himself closer, letting the warm tip of his cock brush just against the corner of your mouth. You looked up at him, letting your tongue peek out to lick the corner of your mouth clean of the cum he smeared.

“Open.”

Your tongue dragged alongside a vein in his shaft before taking him into your mouth. The taste of his cum, you relished in. He cursed under his breath at the warm and wet feeling of your mouth.

Every one of your mouths movements had earned a grunt from him or two. They were small but it told you he was enjoying himself. You didn’t take him all the way, afraid to trigger your own gag-reflex.

Your hand accommodated to the leftover of his cock that was getting no attention, wrapping around and shifting the same time your mouth moved.

Your tongue swirled around his tip, earning a breathy moan from him. His hand made its way into your hair, pulling hard enough for yourself to moan around him.

The vibrations of your sound had him resisting so hard not to push your head down.

“Just like that, fuck.” He groaned under his breath and hearing it shot down pure arousal to your already soaked panties.

You set a steady motion of trying to take more of him into your mouth. Midas quickly lost himself to the feeling, finding the obscene, sloppy sucking noises you made so appealing.

You looked up as you continued, his hips pushing in, forcing yourself to take more than you could take. You resisted the urge to gag as he touched your uvula, eyes brimming with tears.

Your eyelashes were dampening, the expression on your face made him feel fucking sick, because he found your crying hot.

You breathed in through your nose, concentrating on keeping the pace consistent. Midas didn’t care much about your pace, pretty much fucking your face now.

You looked at him, the thrusting of his hips into your mouth had your own saliva dripping down your chin.

“You’re taking it so fucking good, yeah—I knew your mouth could be useful,” He panted.

You let out a muffled moan while he continued. Rare groans escaped his mouth and he was enjoying himself.

Then you pulled off his cock.

He didn’t like that.

Midas dragged you up off the floor with an easy tug of your hair. You looked like a mess, just the way he wanted. Your usual brazen self was now replaced a husk of your old self, desperate for attention from him.

He leaned in close, not waiting to rip off your pantyhose, along with pulling off your panties.

“Maybe this will make you learn your fucking lesson,” He spat out, smashing his lips against yours in a way that you didn’t even know what had happened.

You didn’t care, not ashamed that all you wanted from him was to fuck you. He lead you to his desk, your hip hitting the desk.

Since he hated you, you thought he might’ve preferred not seeing your face, so you bent over the desk. He was tempted but flipped you around.

With a gasp leaving your mouth, your weight felt like nothing as Midas picked you up and placed on top of his desk.

He unzipped your skirt to make it easier, also slipping it off.

“I want to see that it’s you.” He whispered, in contrast to his attitude earlier when he fucked your mouth. Usually hate sex was with the other person facing away. But the person who hated you the most wanted to see?

“You want me to fuck you?” Finally, he pressed his tip against the opening of your tight cunt.

“Yes, sir.”

“You’re nothing to me, you do know that, right?”

“I’d never be with somebody as easy as you are.”

—-

word count got to me pt2

[itsrlymine]

Totally unrelated but, what's your ethnicity/nationality? There's literally 54 countries in Africa, this continent big asf.

Don't take this serious, but I just have an irrational annoyance from people saying "africa" like it's a country.

I'm from Mozambique, it's pretty rare to find people from African countries interested in new age spirituality. The only other African loa bloger that I know it's @konniesreality, who is from Cape Verde.

Also, how stressing is it to run a blog? Sometimes I feel like bloggers are wasting their precious time and efforts, the repetitive basic questions are beyond annoying and the hateful and rude anons don't help. How many times will they ask "can I manifest ...?" 💀, I swear to God, I just KNOW this question has been asked at least a 1000 times. AT LEAST!!

Amazing posts, by the way, I kinda like how you don’t follow any methods or techniques. At the end of the day, we only need our awareness and our abilities to choose what we want and decide that we have it.

(If you're not comfortable, you don't need to answer, these are personal questions, so I respect your privacy ♥)

Hello babe! I definitely understand you and don't like when people do that either. I just never felt like it wasn't important to specify since it doesn't have anything to do with manifesting. There is a youtuber by the name of Manifest It Finesse it and I'm pretty sure she is West African, though I don't remember which country. I'm from Nigeria. I'll check out her page.

For me, it hasn't been too stressful bc I decided it won't be lmao. I have gotten a thousand and one questions just like that and it's like omg you just want to complain fr. I manifested my blog going the way I wanted it it so it has been good aside from the very bored trolls. They don't mean shit tho. I cleared out my inbox for both reasons.

Thank you my love. I try to get people to understand that all you need is yourself and nothing else. No one else but you! Literally techniques don't matter bc you are the law itself.

[roguishcat]

Conversations with a vampire - part 1/10

Summary: A story told through a series of conversations between Astarion and child Tav, tracing the slow and steady progress of trust and friendship.

Chapter summary: Astarion's eyes shot open and he scowled at the child crouched near him. This had to a trick. Because there was no way that a child dressed like a noble would be in a back alley behind the Flophouse at this time at night offering him salvation in the form of a potion of superior healing.

Humor/Friendship/Angst

Tags: Teen, Mild language, Mentions of abuse in later chapters, Some violence, Spawn Astarion, Astarion needs a hug, Platonic friendship, Child Tav, Annoyed Astarion

Setting: Set before the events of the game.

Look at my little Tav! Absolutely gorgeous art by awesome and talented @alyavaai! 💖

This was not how he envisioned his night.

The night usually meant bustling taverns, mingling and mixing of drunks and those trying to take advantage of them for coin. Raucous laughter, whistling and catcalling, some enjoying the cover darkness provided more than others.

And, occasionally, a greater danger would be lurking in the shadows. A vampire spawn, a hunter looking for the gullible, the weak or the innocents. Not for his own benefit, mind, or rather not directly. If it were up to Astarion, he would rather be anywhere else doing anything else. After almost two hundred years the dance really did get tediously repetitive, verging on boring.

Go in, crank the charm up to a hundred, select a target from those willing to hang on his every word, ensnare, seduce, and deposit them on Cazador’s doorstep to be dealt with. He tried not to think too much about it. Thinking about it took him to dark, dangerous places, the depths of which he would rather not sink to. He has been doing this for so long that after a while his victims faces all blended together. He could barely remember any, but several. In the early years, he occasionally felt something akin to remorse. Cazador made sure to beat any such feelings out of him. Lock him up and torture him until he could feel nothing but the urge that compelled him to obey.

So, if it was up to Astarion, he wouldn’t have started chatting up the drow. Drows generally looked down on males and could be unpredictable. But the pickings were slim tonight and he had to get at least one soul to Cazador. He didn’t want to think of what would be waiting for him if he returned empty-handed. How unfortunate for him that his target conveniently forgot that her male companion was about to come to the tavern. Even more unfortunate, that he and his friends turned up to escort her home just as Astarion was about to seal the deal. And to add insult to the injury, he was now politely being asked to accompany them behind the tavern, a dagger oh-so suggestively pressed to his back.

He was beaten quite mercilessly. And really, it was quite uncalled for. He noted with bitterness that the female drow seemed to enjoy the show. Perhaps this was one of the reasons for her coming to the tavern in the first place. To see your lover put on such a display of power, isn’t it just so romantic?

Astarion would not die from the injuries, but he could not force his body to move. He was quite sure that he had a cracked rib or two. And he needed to move. The sun would rise soon. He needed to seek shelter or be burned to a crisp. Whatever pain he felt now, that would be far more excruciating. 

He breathed out sharply and winced, his body not healing as quickly as it should have.  Perhaps it was better this way. Astarion always fought for survival, always told himself that he would get out of this one way or another. But, after near two centuries passed, he wasn’t so sure anymore. Perhaps it was better to die here in the back alley and not give Cazador the satisfaction of eventually ending his life. Astarion closed his eyes, propped himself up a little higher against the wall and waited for the inevitable first scorching rays.

“Here.”

His eyes shot open, and he scowled at the child crouched near him, offering him a potion. From the looks of it, it was the potion of superior healing. This had to be a hallucination or some kind of trick. Because there was no way that a child dressed like a noble would be in a back alley behind the Flophouse at this time at night offering him salvation in the form of an expensive, potent potion.

With a growl, he swatted her hand away.

“Leave me alone,” he hissed through clenched teeth.

“Oh, come on, don’t be like that,” the girl set the potion down by his leg and moved away. He was vaguely aware that she was treating him like a wounded animal. Her movements were deliberately slow, as if she was trying to appear as harmless as possible.

“You are going to bleed out if you just sit there,” she said gently. “It’s good stuff, I promise.”

The child had a point. And no matter how much he wanted to sit here and wallow in self-pity, he did not actually want to die in a dirty back alley after being attacked by some idiots.

With a grunt, Astarion took the bottle and drank. After all, what was the harm? Even if it was poison and the child was someone sent by Cazador to play a cruel trick on him, he would be dead in a few hours anyway.

As he swallowed the last of the potion, the dizziness subsided. He wasn’t losing as much blood, the worst of the wounds having partially healed, the lesser ones disappearing.

“See? Told ya! I will give you another one, but this one is going to cost you,” she produced another potion from a beautiful silk and brocade bag that was attached to her belt. He could hear the clinking of more in there. The bag must have been enchanted to carry so much weight.

“Oh, so only the first one is free, hm? How about I just rip your pretty throat out and take the rest for myself?” He lashed out, catching her arm and squeezing hard. He wasn’t really going to murder her, but a little intimidation could go a long way when bargaining.

“You could, but imagine all the unnecessary fuss, the horrid noise I would make before you kill me, the screaming, the crowd calling for Fists. You know the drill,” she grinned, seemingly not as scared by the notion as she should have been.

Astarion glared. It seemed he was having an off day if even a child was not intimidated by a clearly bigger and stronger foe. Or perhaps there was just something wrong with this one. He hardly ever dealt with children, so he was not an expert on what was normal or otherwise.

“Fine,” he let go and sat back against the wall. “State your terms.”

“I’ve seen you around here before. And as you come here anyway sometimes, I would like for you to chat to me from time to time.”

“Chat?” He spat the word as if it left a sour taste in his mouth. “I do not chat.”

What was exactly the vibe he was giving tonight? A soft, cuddly teddy-bear? First those drows didn’t seem even in the slightest intimidated and now the child mistook him for some kind of adventurer full of stories? How annoying.

Yet again, potions could come in handy. And there could be other useful things in that bag of hers.

“If I were to agree, and I am not saying that I do agree,” he put his hand up to stop her from talking, “I will want more than just one measly potion. And your terms are too vague. Three conversations and we are done.”

“Ten. And no less than that. And I give you a potion each time we chat and this ring.”

Astarion looked at the strange child, sizing her up. He could never figure out ages when it came to children, probably because he hated children in general and this one seemed particularly irksome, but the half-elf seemed to be about nine, ten? She was dressed better than most would be in this part of the city. Her clothes were embroidered with silver and gold herons, lifting their wings as if in flight and her boots seemed to be made of the best leather. Her blonde hair was in an intricate up-do, with blue velvet ribbons matching her eye-colour holding the construction tightly in place. There were rings that hummed with magic on two of her fingers, and the amulet around her neck did not seem ordinary either.

So, this begged the question, who let this child frolic about the less-reputable part of town without an escort or any visible means of protection in the middle of the night?

She seemed confident, pushy and aggravating, but not frightened in the least. So, either she was completely mad or more powerful than she appeared. Maybe both.

Perhaps this arrangement wasn’t so bad. At least she didn’t seem boring, sniffling and disgusting like other children. And it was a deviation from his routine, which probably wasn’t so bad either.

“Fine. Hand them over. And I hope you don’t expect me to hang around this tavern every night for your benefit.”

She nodded and put two potions on the ground together with a ring. Astarion examined it briefly, before slipping the band on his finger.

“It improves your jumps. It’s quite cool actually, especially if you have to leg it out of somewhere.”

“You sound as if you are speaking from experience.”

She didn’t reply to that, but seeing the supplies she had on her, especially of the medicinal type, the girl probably got up to all sorts of mischief.

“Call me Tav.  What is your name?”

“Astarion. And by the way, this counts as one conversation.” He drank another potion and hid the last one behind a barrel, feeling well enough to get up, his chances of surviving rising by the minute. Perhaps he even had it in him to quickly find someone to bring back to Cazador.

“See ya round,” the child gave him a mock bow and walked away, Astarion’s red eyes following her until she rounded a corner and was out of his sight.

“What an oddity,” he frowned, crossing his arms. With any luck, this would be the last time he would see her.

Chapter 2

💖 Tag list 💖:

@ninty900, @ayselluna,

@dajeong, @ravenswritingroom,

@misscrissfemmefatale, @clazberryk, @anukulee,

@preciouslittlebhaalbae,

@sh3rl0ck, @mellowenthusiast2299,

@fleetstreet78,

@starlight-rogue,

@obsessedwhyyes, @arzen9

[inyourgravehcs]

♡ You're shining already ♡

❥ TAGS: gn!reader, hurt/comfort.

Warm bed, soft pillow, heavy blanket - an indescribable comfort, enveloping body and soul, beckoning deeper and deeper into itself.

...And unfortunately, all this is spoiled by the fact that it's morning. One has to get up and give up the true peace that's so hard to achieve with today's pace of life. Even the sun, breaking through the treacherously wide windows, clearly hinted with its insolent rise that there was no way back to the sleepy world.

Your head felt as if it was molded of lead, and no matter how you moved it, it seemed that gravity itself was nailing the skull with the back of the head to the pillow. Your eyes stuck together under the unbearable weight of your eyelids, which was impossibly hard to fight, but it was still necessary, because falling asleep again was not an option. Your limp, weak body wanted to curl up under the blanket and stay there for the rest of your life, never to see these absurd days full of boring, repetitive life. And the finishing touch was the annoying drilling in your nose: after all, the low humidity was giving your mucous membranes a hard time.

Uncomfortable. Worst morning of your entire life. Even if you had it worse, now it made you feel like a withered twig instead of a full human being, and that pissed you off far more than any possible misfortune that could befall you. You didn't even have the energy to turn around, let alone get out of bed and start the day. Gathering all your will into a fist, you roll over onto your other side with the last of your strength, bumping into something.

Your vision focuses slowly, gradually. The pale flesh tone gradually draws out into indistinct reliefs, then making up a vague blob of muscle. The blurred outlines make up the silhouette of a man's back, and as you look up higher, you come to the conclusion - that silver hair belonged to Al-Haitham. That's right. You're completely oblivious to the pain, not even paying attention to the fact that you weren't alone in the bed the whole time. Your boyfriend was probably still asleep, though.

Deep breath. Maybe if you snuggled up against his broad back, the discomfort would fade into the background and you could fall asleep. Maybe he could be a better pillow than the one already wrinkled and warmed up under your head. Your fingers move awkwardly across the sheet, moving to your lover's side — and then your arm slips over his waist as you nuzzle your face between his shoulder blades and mumble unintelligibly to yourself. Even if the discomfort didn't recede, at least you could find comfort in the warmth of your lover's body.

“Are you awake already?”

The low voice with the slight hoarse notes instantly stirred the thoughts inside your head. So Al-Haitham had recently woken up as well, but he didn't want to leave the comfort of your bed? In response to his question, you only whine unintelligibly, thus expressing your genuine and sincere displeasure with this morning.

The man sighs deeply, and then falls silent, as if in thought. He slowly turns over to face you, trying not to drop your hand in the process. Al-Haitham scrutinizes your face, paying particular attention to your eyes. Your eyelids tingle and sting, but you keep them open as best you can, reciprocating your lover's gaze — so familiar, the intense stare of turquoise eyes, the red flecks which only emphasized the man's seriousness.

“I understand you.”

Suddenly, one of his strong arms is wrapped around your waist, pulling you to him and pressing your body against his while your flushed face finds itself pressed into Haitham's chest.

It’s soft. His relaxed chest hugs your face like a pillow, supporting not only your head, but your soul.

It’s warm. The restrained heat of the human body emanates from the man's skin, soothing and lulling even better than a blanket.

It’s tight. You're pressed by his hand against the supple contours of his muscles with enough force to feel their every curve, but not enough to feel the strain or discomfort of it — a perfect support for your tired bones and limbs, many times better than even the best mattress.

Right. Al-Haitham was just like you — he knew the value of starting the morning on the wrong foot and was smart enough not to make that mistake and not to let you make it. What was the point of rushing off somewhere? He could afford to put all his worries on the back burner, which meant you could too.

You sigh this time, diving deeper into the man's chest and finally closing your eyes. Even if you can't fall asleep again, it's better to rest in the arms of your beloved than to toss and turn in bed, hoping it will get better.

A big hand patting you on the back only confirms this argument.

♡ ── ✦ ──『♡』── ✦ ── ♡

Please note that english isn't my native language and can be awkward at times.

Please don't translate or repost my works without asking for my permission first!

[yoomiwrites]

Aromatic Rush

Summary: Reader has an easy life in the navy. Until Aokiji comes to them with a mission that calls more into question than they thought.

Note: We reached the goal so the next Rush is coming! This time, it is NOT with all admirals but focused on Kuzan only. I'm pretty sure Akainu doesn't have as much fans as Kuzan, so I might post his story as well. We'll see! For now, enjoy the first chapter! (I might do a sequel for this story, depends on you after the whole thing is posted)

The alarm buzzed faintly in the dim light of dawn, but I was already awake, staring at the ceiling as I had been for the last few minutes. The sound wasn't annoying—just part of the routine. The ticking of the clock, the soft rhythm of my breath—everything followed a quiet, familiar pattern. Nothing dramatic ever happened, and I liked it that way.

Sighing, I slid out of bed and headed to the kitchen. Breakfast was always the same: toast, a soft-boiled egg, and a cup of green tea. Simple. It wasn’t exciting, but it was enough to start the day without complicating things. The steam from the tea curled lazily into the air, just like every other morning.

As I ate, my mind wandered, not to big dreams or wild fantasies, but to the day ahead. Work. I had a job to do, a quiet one, but it was important. I looked after the seagulls and den den mushi snails that the Marines used for communication. I wasn’t a fighter or someone on the front lines, but my work kept things running, kept messages moving. That was enough.

Once breakfast was done, I washed my dishes, tidied the small apartment, and checked the clock. Right on schedule. Everything in its place, exactly as it should be. No surprises. No interruptions. I found comfort in that.

When I arrived at Marine HQ, the same white walls and orderly corridors greeted me like they always did. I’d been here for years now, long enough to blend into the background. I rarely interacted with anyone outside my little compartment. The admirals, the vice-admirals—they lived in a world far above mine. I barely saw them, and even when I did, I kept my head down. I preferred it that way.

My world was smaller, quieter. The compartment where I worked wasn’t impressive, but it was peaceful. The snails blinked slowly in their cases, and the gulls rustled their wings in calm, lazy movements. It was easy to fall into the rhythm of caring for them. I checked the snails, made sure they were healthy, fed the seagulls, and kept everything running smoothly. My fingers brushed the snails’ cold, smooth shells, a small reminder of the routine I loved. The gulls’ soft coos filled the air, a familiar background noise that I relied on.

There was something beautiful in the simplicity of it all. I knew that to some, my life might seem boring, repetitive even. But in a world as chaotic as this one, I valued the quiet. The control.

It was enough.

As the day wound down, I finished up my tasks, checking on the snails one last time before closing up. The gulls were settled, feathers tucked, ready to sleep. Everything was in order, as always. I packed up my things, ready to head home, when something made me pause.

The air felt… different. A shift, a presence I hadn’t noticed before. Slowly, I turned, and my heart nearly stopped.

Standing at the entrance to my small compartment was someone I’d only ever seen from a distance. Tall, with disheveled black hair and eyes half-lidded with lazy disinterest, he seemed almost too big for this tiny space. His long Marine coat draped over his shoulders, loose and casual, as if he couldn’t be bothered to wear it properly.

Admiral Aokiji—Kuzan.

I froze, unsure of what to do or say. Admirals didn’t come down here. They didn’t even know this place existed, let alone step into it. His presence filled the room in a way that felt unnatural, like the balance of my world had just shifted without warning.

For a moment, he said nothing, just stood there with that unreadable, lazy expression. His hands were in his pockets, and he seemed almost as if he might turn and leave at any second, as if he’d wandered in by mistake.

But then, he spoke. "Yo," he said, voice as lazy as his posture. "You got a minute?"

[permanently-stressed]

Hi, I've written you chapter one of a Katisa fic. Calling this fic "The Other Woman".

~

hey, Aspen, can we talk?

Isa glanced down at the text she’d just written. She’d been wanting to do this for some time now, and she’d written dozens of variations of the text. Over and over she would type something out, then delete it. It never felt quite right. Even this newest version didn’t.

But it would have to do. 

Isa thought about it a second longer, then hit send. 

~

Aspen responded late into the night with a Yeah, Isa, what’s up?

Isa glanced at the clock. 12:06. Uh oh. 

They said nothing good ever happened past midnight. They were probably right, whoever they were. But Isa picked up her phone anyway. She barely even registered what she was writing as she typed. Maybe it was better that way. 

yeah, so, I’ve been thinking about it. and I don’t think this fandom marriage stuff is working out for us. There. That was good. Succinct, without beating around the bush. This was good, right? 

The three dots signifying that Aspen was writing appeared. Isa watched the phone anxiously. She didn’t want to lose Aspen as a fandom friend, so it was critical that she paid full attention to what Aspen would say next so that she could direct the conversation as necessary. That was why she’d chosen to do this over text. That way she wouldn’t have to watch Aspen’s face as she was fandom dumped. And she wouldn’t have to worry about facial cues or body language.

Or maybe this was all a horrendous plan. Because Aspen’s response was You’re fandom divorcing me over TEXT???

Isa hadn’t expected the plan to go to hell quite so quickly. She considered throwing her phone onto her bed and ghosting Aspen for the night, but that wasn’t very mature. And it couldn’t get any worse than this, could it? She’d already hit rock-bottom. She’d planned on sugarcoating her real reasons for the fandom break-up, but now she decided honesty was the best policy. So she typed out yeah, uh, yeah. uh, I don’t know, I just feel like. like maybe we don’t click as well as I’d originally thought? sorry? I just feel like . . . yeah, nobody understands my Dexiana shipping QUITE the way you do, but I’m more than just that, you know? I love Sokeefe, too, and I just. I kinda wanna be fandom married to someone who is as obsessed with them as I am.

Well, it was certainly raw. Isa considered sending it the way it was, but decided to delete one of the yeah, uhs and one of the likes. Aspen might find it repetitive. 

Or maybe not, considering her Tumblr username. But by the time the thought had occurred to her, she’d already hit send. 

But who? came Aspen’s reply. And why so suddenly??? Now?

I don’t actually have anyone in mind. and I’ve felt this way for a while, Isa thumbed out. She wondered if she should leave it like that. But she decided to add, it’s not that I hate that you don’t ship Sokeefe! it’s just that. I feel like I’m not getting that with you. and surely you’re also bored of hearing me talk about them all the time? wouldn’t you prefer I dump that on someone who actually wants to hear it? this is better for both of us.

Three dots. Then they were gone. Then they were back. Gone again. Back and forth until Isa felt like she’d never see anything but disappearing and reappearing dots ever again. Like they were etched into the backs of her eyelids. 

Finally: Okay. Isa briefly wondered what Aspen’s original drafts had been, what had caused those endless vanishing dots, then decided she preferred not knowing. She raised her thumbs to the screen, wondering if her relationship to Aspen would survive this fandom break-up. If they would still be able to be co-queens of the Dexiana tag together. Maybe this was the tipping point. 

But she still cared about Aspen! She did! It just wasn’t like that. Ugh, why were fandom feelings so annoying? If only Aspen enjoyed mashing Sophie’s and Keefe’s mouths together like Barbie dolls the way she did. She shook her head. That was a petty thought. Aspen’s lack of Sokeefe shipping was a reason they shouldn’t be together, not a shortcoming. 

Perhaps there were people that enjoyed being fandom married to people that had irreconcilably different opinions than they did. Maybe they enjoyed arguing, fighting, trying to come out on top, or maybe they were just able to listen to the other’s passionate yapping without it affecting their relationship. But that wasn’t Isa. she just wanted to yap about Sokeefe making out to someone who was on the same wavelength as her. She was fairly certain Aspen was just as bored listening to her as Isa was talking at her. But Aspen’s boredom was probably not accompanied by frustration the way Isa’s was. 

So she wrote back: okay. yeah. so, uh, we’re good, then?

That turned out to be a mistake.

~

The solution to all problems in life was to get drunk. 

This was the thought that crossed Isa’s mind as she downed her third drink in one of Fandomland’s many bars.

Sober Isa would have never thought something like that. But drunk Isa was a completely different creature. 

After her horrendous fandom divorce and subsequent “trying to get my mind off my problems” rapid-fire rereading of one of her favorite Sokeefe makeout fics on AO3, she’d somehow made her way to the closest bar. Now, on the wrong side of three (or was it four?) drinks, she couldn’t remember exactly how she’d arrived. 

Oh, well.

Someone sat down on the stool beside her. Isa’s eyes were starting to go blurry, but she saw a flash of brown. Probably the person’s shirt. Or drink? No, that didn’t seem right.

Honestly, it could’ve been a werewolf cosplay and Isa wouldn’t have been any the wiser. 

She blinked at the person, trying to focus her eyes. It did not work. 

The person turned toward Isa and shot her what she assumed was a polite smile. “Too many drinks?” they asked. Or at least, that’s what Isa assumed.

“Yeah . . . I . . . just got . . . fand . . . du . . . dumped,” Isa slurred back. There was something wrong with that statement, but in her current state, Isa had no idea what it was. 

“Oh, rough.”

“Happened . . . to . . . you?”

“Technically, I was on the other end of it.” The person said something else, but Isa was having a hard time doing anything beyond keeping her head facing in the person’s general direction. Had she had another drink in the last ten minutes? She couldn’t remember it.

She squinted at the person, trying to see anything beyond a pale blur. Wait, there was another color there. Two blue flashes . . . earrings probably. 

“Well . . . mine was . . . shipping . . . she didn’t . . . ” Isa meant to finish “like mine”, but she trailed off. 

Here’s to hoping this random person I met two seconds ago in this crappy bar can read my mind. 

The person seemed to understand. “Yeah, fandom break-ups over shipping are the worst.”

“Aren’t . . . they . . . ” Isa was incapable of shaping her tone into a question, so she settled for trailing off again.

The person seemed to take it in stride. Isa decided they probably wouldn’t judge her if she sprawled on the table like a puddle of cheap beer spilled by a drunken bargoer. And closed her eyes. And she seemed to be able to listen to the person clearer while horizontal. They seemed to be trying to introduce themself, but hell if Isa could tell what they were saying. She nodded as if she understood what their name was (she didn’t) and slurred her own name back.

“Maybe we should have this conversation while you’re . . . ” Isa assumed the person had finished that sentence. Probably with “sober”. But she didn’t actually hear it. Her ears tuned back in at “ . . . if we were in the same fandoms. That would . . . ”

Isa mentally finished “be cool” for the person as her ears betrayed her again. The person said something about a war, which seemed a strange change of topic. They then added something else, which Isa assumed was them asking for her AO3. Exchanging AO3s at the bar . . . how stereotypical. And while drunk, no less.

Isa was incapable of any basic motor skills, so she slurred her AO3 username out and added “No . . . underscores. The . . . P and S are . . . cap . . . it . . . ”

She could’ve sworn the person was laughing, but she couldn’t be sure. At what, Isa had no idea. She felt something press into her hand and realized it was a slip of paper with the person’s AO3. She tried to read it, but her eyes were having a hard time focusing. Oh, well. A job for sober Isa. 

She fumbled with her phone since it was the only thing in her line of sight, and therefore, the only thing she was particularly aware of, besides the person. Somehow she managed to pop the case and slide the person’s AO3 into it. She was vaguely aware of the person helping her clasp her case back onto her phone. 

“ . . . go, Isa . . . meeting . . . fanfics about . . . sober . . . ” was all Isa caught of the person’s goodbye. Mostly, she was relieved she hadn’t managed to mispronounce or miscommunicate her own name. That would have been embarrassing.

“Bye . . . ” Isa said, almost blacking out on the word. She managed to stumble to the door, seconds or minutes later, she wasn’t really sure. 

Oh, well.

~

I really hope you (and Katie) enjoyed my fic! Please tell me if it was accurate and if you want any more chapters. This was really fun to write and I've already started thinking about ideas for chapter two (AKA: Isa wakes up with a nasty hangover).

OK OK OK SO MANY COMMENTS TO MAKE

@myfairkatiecat @aspenaspenaspenaspenaspen y'all have to see this

You got my texting style exactly right???? how????

THE FACT THAT ASPEN DOESN'T SHIP SOKEEFE BEING THE MAIN CAUSE OF THE BREAK UP I'M DYING

Co queens of Dexiana tag mention!!!

Fandomland lore! It's a city that has bars

The fact that I'm getting drunk is both hilarious and not entirely out of character

EXCHANGING AO3s IS LIKE NUMBERS IN THE REAL WORLD AKFDJKAJFDKL THIS IS AMAZING

Here’s to hoping this random person I met two seconds ago in this crappy bar can read my mind. AHHHHHHH THE COGNATEDOM BEGINS!!!

Overall REALLY GREAT CHAPTER!! Excited to see what you come up with for the next one :D