#who do you even tag in cv posts........

[lilac-5ky]

TOJI AND VIRGIN READER!

The Favor (officeAU!Toji x virgin!Fem!Reader)

Plot: The first day you met Toji, he told you everything on his CV was a lie. Three years later, he's your beloved work husband, the one you go to when you decide it's time to lose your virginity.

Tags: Office!AU, loss of virginity, fingering, oral sex (f.receiving), agee gap (reader mid 20s, toji mid 30s), soft!dom toji, dirty talking, praising, pet names (sweetheart, darling, kid, wife, whore, slut, etc), aftercare, toji catches feelings after fucking you, daddy vibes without the word, friends to lovers dynamic, size kink, lube handjob, MDNI obviously.

A/N: Combined your idea with my intense need to write an office!au. Hopefully this turned out to your liking and you forgive me for writing this much filth LMAO

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For promotion, for demotion, for raises and for cuts, in overtime and in bureaucracy, until layoff do us part.

In the insufferable reality of Japanese corporate life, a work spouse exists to shoulder the burden of overdue deadlines and never-ending stacks of paperwork. A husband who, in spite of not being bound to you through marriage, has vowed to stick by your side until either one of you breaks free from the shackles of human resources; your work husband.

You met each other on your first day at the company, both of you passing interviews for the same lowly position of staffing coordinator.

Your first impression of candidate number 9 was that his suit wasn’t really his but was likely borrowed from someone whose bicep wasn’t the size of their thigh and calf combined. Your second impression was whispered to your ear as the dark haired man rose from his chair and paraded down the interview room, nonchalantly letting slip that his bachelor’s degree along with every bit of qualification on his CV had been faked.

Whether that was a declaration of war or a testament to his unparalleled confidence, you wouldn’t know until a week later when you were assigned to the same miserable office corner, sharing a desk, a title, and a secret whose value skyrocketed once you became acquainted with your work place’s imposing policies.

One word would get both him and his knowing smile fired, but the moment you shook hands with Fushiguro Toji and promised to get along, you signed yourself up for a long-lasting partnership.

Over the three years you worked together, each grew out of their initial post. Your all-nighters paid off and you got promoted to an HR assistant, meaning you didn’t have to memorize everyone’s coffee order any longer, while Toji flourished as the department’s eye candy.

He’d ceased pretending that his broad shoulders could be boxed in second-hand suit jackets, and instead opted for rolled-up button-ups with the occasional monochromatic tie—a fit that put his sculpted physique into full view and threw the entire female populace out of balance.

He was an objectively good-looking man who bordered on great. The type to be conscious of their effect on others, cutting corners with suggestive glances and smiling his way out of otherwise unforgivable report oversights. Every woman in the office was openly in love with him. Even your supervisor referred to him as the team’s ace and discreetly unbuttoned her cleavage in his presence.

You realized then, they’d sooner let go of you and your hard-earned master’s, than part with the department’s mascot.

Despite the differences in skill and appearance, your sense of kinship survived the passage of time. Perhaps you’d subconsciously fallen victim to his charms, but whenever you saw his thin brows furrow and his right foot threaten the unresponsive copy machine with a killing blow, you couldn’t look away. This is a favor; you’d remind him at every formal email and resume assessment you helped put together.

And favors are repaid.

While Toji couldn’t assist with payroll processing, he always had the scoop on who cheated on their spouse with whom and whose bra was filled with padding—which you didn’t find all that interesting, but turned into a fun game of guess the cheater during dull 9 a.m. meetings.

On mornings when the alarm was hurled at your bedroom wall, he made excuses for your absence, and on work dinners, he saved you a seat away from all the grabby drunks.

Toji was far from a good person. His mere presence in a company you’d broken your back to get into was a mockery of your efforts. He led others on and got into muffled shutouts over his phone behind the water fountain, where he thought no one was listening in.

That’s how you found out about his eight-year-old kid and the custody battle with his allegedly “psychotic” ex-wife. He didn’t know you knew because you never told him. Everyone had skeletons in their closet, and it wasn’t your job to sort his out. As far as your work marriage was concerned, he was a good husband who diligently fulfilled his marital duties—all except one, which you feared the pretext of a favor wouldn’t begin to cover.

“Here’s your poison,” you slid the scalding coffee cup in his direction, mindful of the papers on his desk. “Black Americano with four shots of espresso and no sugar to compliment your wretched dark soul.”

Toji raised an open palm in your face, motioning for you to wait until he was done punching words on the keyboard and pressed save file. Your eyes were drawn to his fingers, threaded with faded scars that followed the expanse of veins down his wrists, dipping deep below the white cotton of his shirt. Another unsolved mystery you hadn’t gotten to the bottom of.

He brought the cup to his equally scarred lips, defying the steam spirals with a long-drawn sip. “Unnecessary intro, but thanks.” He gave a lazy smile. “Aren’t ya a sweetheart?”

You dropped your beverage on your side of the desk and swiveled your chair nearer. “Think you could do said sweetheart a favor?

“A favor, huh?” His breath was laced with caffeine. “Depends. If you’re asking for a buck, ‘fraid I’m all dried up till the end of the month.”

So he isn’t planning on paying for his order.

“I make more than you.”

“Doesn’t mean ya can’t find yourself in a pickle.”

You shook your head, stealing a sip of liquid courage from your mocha. How did people ask those things again?

Your contemplation lasted long enough for him to turn his head back to work, filling his home screen with enough tabs to distract you from his unfinished round of solitaire.

“What are you doing after work?” Your voice cracked into shards of uncertainty.

“Nice try.”He sneered. “You dug your own grave taking on the grievance procedures from the union. Climb out on your own.”

“Not everyone offloads their work load on others, Toji.” You rolled your eyes, scooting even closer to make sure only he’d be the recipient of your next words.

He sensed something was off because he wasn’t pretending to input random lines into the search bar anymore, and while he studied you, you studied him back. You had your doubts about this, and you weren’t sure he was your type either. You liked your men responsible and mature—like Nanami from sales, who would’ve been your first choice if your legs didn’t turn into jelly the minute you saw him.

Toji was the safe option. You talked to him. You joked with him. You were used to him, and more importantly, you trusted him. All the lack of qualifications in his job, he made up for with his experience in that other field you were a stranger to.

“Hey, kid.” His voice mellowed down with a beat of concern, a heavy hand landing on your shoulder. “If you’ve gotten yourself into trouble, I—”

“Please have sex with me.”

“Make yourself at home.” He nudged your back into the apartment, glancing over his shoulder to make sure you were following even after he’d pulled away.

Moving forward felt hard—as if you’d forgotten how to. You weren’t sure whether to wipe your shoes on the mat or stash them in the corner. You didn’t know which foot to put forth and what set of slippers to pick. Every decision suddenly mattered a lot more than it should.

You’d never been to Toji’s house before, and up until a few hours ago, you couldn’t fathom standing at his doorstep either. You weren’t that close so as to meet outside work hours, but you were about to get a lot more up close and personal.

The way he accepted your request with a mere, almost offensive, okay still boggled your brain. You’d considered every question he could possibly ask, painstakingly compiling your list of answers like a witness called to the stand, only for him to not speak a word of it—not even when it was just you and him and the solitude that came from enjoying lunch a hundred stories above Tokyo’s bustling streets.

He seemed to have forgotten all about your plans, up until he pulled over at the bus stop where you were waiting and stuffed you in the front seat of his car.

“You coming?”

Kicking your heels off your feet, you skipped straight through the hallway, your head turning left and right as if you were at an art gallery. You didn’t know what to expect, but a high-end apartment in the heart of Minato wasn’t it. Neither your income nor his justified an inox steel kitchen with mahogany wood flooring—let alone a direct view of the illuminated Tokyo Tower.

You were so bedazzled by the city skyline that you nearly missed the hastily buried socks peeking beneath the kotatsu, along with the cobwebs his untouched bookshelf flaunted. Much like his suit, his apartment was handed to him by someone whose love for both their books and spouse had run out.

“Whaddya think?”

Toji stalked behind you, his reflection in the glass becoming more defined with every step he took. He was holding something in each hand—two glasses whose orange liquid sparkled in place of the stars.

You turned around slowly, accepting your share with a small smile on your face.

“Your ex-wife has good taste.”

He blinked, taken aback for a split second. He wondered what gave it out—the pink slippers or the flipped-down picture frames you’d yet to notice—and somewhere down the line, he got the wrong idea, beaming with an unwarranted “Thanks.”

“I meant the house, not you.” Although you couldn’t blame him for his inflated ego when every female practically dropped their panties at his feet. Especially not when you were there to do the same.

Your teeth clicked sharply against the glass as you tilted your head and sipped on what tasted too sweet to be whiskey. Apple Juice?

“That’s not alcohol.” You stated.

“Ever thought of becoming a detective?” Toji padded toward the leather couch, spreading his thighs across the two middle cushions.

“Ever thought of becoming a comedian?” You retorted, squeezing in to his left. The furniture would’ve been big enough to fit you both, had he been considerate. “So what’s the joke? Too young to be drinking, or hard liquor ain’t for pretty girls like me?”

“Nah.” His head dropped on his shoulder, both propped against the headrest. “Need you sober for what’s about to happen.”

You mirrored his stance, your knees touching as you folded them on the smooth leather. “And what’s about to happen?”

“I think we both know, or else ya wouldn’t have followed me here.” He wet his bottom lip, pretty green eyes clouding dark.

A certain dryness gnawed at your throat, the pink color of his tongue appealing to you more than it should. You weren’t interested in Toji, but the strands of black that fell over his forehead painted a cuter image than you were used to seeing at the office. You wondered what he’d look like with his hair pushed back, all slick from beads of sweat rolling down his temples. And when you realized you couldn’t pin any of those thoughts on the alcohol, you took another sip, hurriedly averting your gaze.

“How many have? Women from work, I mean.”

You were surprised to hear him state “None,” and even more surprised that he claimed not to mix business with pleasure. You could think of at least three coworkers you suspected he fooled around with. At least so they bragged in the ladies’ room.

“So why bring me home?”

“‘Cause you asked.” Toji said gruffly.

“You fuck every woman who asks you to?”

“Only the cute ones.”

Your cheeks flushed red as you reminded yourself to take his words with a grain of salt. He wasn’t interested in you any more than you were in him. This was simply platonic—almost transactional. He’d do what you asked, and then you’d pay him back with another, mundane favor like sorting mail in his stead.

You finished your drink, your eyes licking up the remaining drops at the bottom of the glass. “This line works?”

Toji shrugged. It probably did. He probably didn’t even have to open his mouth for it to work. While the moment you opened yours—

“Want more?” He motioned to your glass. You nodded, extending your arm, only for his expression to turn sour. “I’m not your fucking maid. Bottle’s on the counter.”

You sighed, getting up so he wouldn’t see your eyes roll at his comment as he shoved his glass in your face. Who’s the maid now?

Aimlessly, you strolled into the kitchen, taking longer than necessary to fill both your glasses. You didn’t mean to start snooping around, but you couldn’t help yourself from seeking a sign of his presence in his picture-perfect apartment. Houses typically reveal something about their residents, and while the display of crystal glasses spoke plenty of his ex-wife, there was no evidence of Toji’s personality.

You weren’t interested in him—just curious. That’s what you kept telling yourself as you picked up a frame stowed away behind an empty cookie jar.

Four smiles greeted you, the brightest belonging to a young girl with elongated bangs, holding a boy who strove to copy his sister’s expression. Their parents stood behind them, a beautiful woman with long brown hair tucked in a ponytail blissfully leaning against the shoulder of a Toji that seemed less happy the longer you processed his strained features.

“She left.” The proximity of his voice startled you. The frame danced between your fingers until he snatched it, his jutted-out chin betraying his annoyance. “Took the kids, left the house and me behind. Ain’t that what ya wanted to hear?”

You shook your head, about to drop to your knees and beg for forgiveness on his parquet. However, the hostility that rose faded as soon as he threw the picture in the first open drawer and returned to the living room, leaving you to fetch your drinks. Then you remembered the phone calls. They weren’t on good terms.

“Having kids isn’t bad. Nor being divorced.” You handed him the glass, assuming your previous position on the couch. “Doesn’t ruin your cool guy image whatsoever.”

“Who said I care about that?” Toji snorted.

“Then you wouldn’t care if anything slipped in front of your fan club?”

“Mind your own fucking business.” He hissed. You chuckled. Sharing a couch wasn’t that much different from sharing a desk, and sharing two secrets was the same as sharing one.

“What are your kids’ names?”

“Kid,” he corrected. “Megumi.”

By the name, you assumed it was the girl. You were wrong. You tried to ask something about his son’s mother, but somehow you couldn’t find one right thing to say, since the woman in the photo wasn’t the boy’s biological mom either. You were lost. The more cryptic answers he gave, the more unanswered questions you ended up with.

Your plan took a backseat while Toji trod the sensitive topic of his divorce to that “bitch,” who’d taken his kid from him out of spite. The custody battle was tipped in her favor, courtesy of a legal system that’d rather see a child separated from its biological parent in the face of cold cash.

Megumi only visited every second weekend of the month, which explained his father’s eagerness to leave early on certain Fridays and come late on the following Mondays. He didn’t need to say this, but you understood his reasons for cheating his way into the company. A proper job looked good in court, and whatever earned him those scars was far from proper.

Both your hands emptied as you finished your second round of drinks. Your head would be buzzing if there was alcohol involved, but you didn’t miss it. Toji was hard to engage, and talking to him felt like running into one brick wall after another. However, working out of those dead-ends was preferable to clinking glasses with some guy who wouldn’t quit boasting about his Ivy League diploma or his burning passion for vocaloid singers—both cases reflecting the sad reality of blind dating in your twenties.

“So.” Toji drawled, a burly arm stretching behind your head. “Why you want me to fuck you? Can’t find good dick in the market?”

Your mind went blank in an instant, every excuse and curated version of the story vanishing when you needed them the most.

“I—um,” you cleared your throat, while your eyes scanned over his body.

There was a lot to take in: the fine lines of his pecs, highlighted under the taut white fabric; the black tie hanging loose around his unbuttoned collar; the hem of his shirt that dangled out of his fitted pants, exposing the tiniest window to the happy trail on his lower abdomen; his slim waist and his thick thighs; the curve of his bum; and the light touch of his fingers closing around your shoulder. You traced the same route of landmarks, finding yourself returning to his achingly handsome face and the playful curiosity in his eyes that had you shifting in your place.

All the reasons for someone to want to be fucked by this fine specimen of a man were right there, and you picked the most inclusive one. “Because you’re hot.”

The ends of his scar drew apart as Toji smiled a wolfish smile. He inched closer, your back hitting the armrest when his right hand caged your body between his arms and the couch.

“Bullshit.” A tickle from where his nose brushed against yours, and a thud from where your heart dropped inside your chest. “You think I wouldn’t know if ya had the hots for me, kid?”

“N-not everyone throws themselves at others.” You tried to reason.

“Maybe. But attraction comes with signs.” The side of his hand grazed the corner of your eyelid. “Batting your pretty lashes,” he trailed off, rough knuckles softly tracing the apple of your cheek. “Blushing your cheeks red.” The pad of his thumb swiped down your cupid’s bow. “Biting your lip raw.” He continued with his eyes, glancing at the skirt that lay high above your knees suggestively. “Pressing those plushy thighs together.”

“You do none ‘f those things.” Toji accused. “So why the sudden itch? Indulge me, and I’ll pound that pussy till ya scream.”

The promise of his words forced a gulp down your throat as your thighs involuntarily rubbed together. You started to reconsider. You didn’t want to fuck him just because any man would do. You wanted to fuck him because it was him and because every patch of skin he made contact with begged to be touched again.

“I’m a virgin.” You admitted, voice low, and stare even lower—utterly defeated as he flinched away in surprise.

You wondered what he’d say. A virgin at your age? was the most common response, followed by Is something wrong with you? and typically concluded with You sure you’re not a lesbian?

Everyone preaches how precious innocence is, but no one wants the pressure of taking it. What men really want is a woman who is both a saint and a slut—a woman who can suck their dick ten inches deeper than they can provide while simultaneously shying away from every insinuation of sex.

The problem is with the poor souls who belong in either category without adhering to the other, because squeezing your legs shut is just as faulty as spreading them open for the public.

Seeing as Toji remained silent, you realized you wouldn’t get an answer, and maybe it was for the best. You didn’t want to put a strain on your work relationship. It’d take a while to look him in the eye again, but in a month or two, you’d laugh about the incident over a cup of soggy store-bought noodles like nothing happened.

“Sorry for bothering you.” You mumbled as you picked up your last vestige of dignity and stood on your feet, only to be anchored by a set of fingers that tightly gripped your wrist.

“Sit.” His unfaltering gaze confirmed the sincerity of his command.

You thought about breaking free and dashing to the door. You thought about how much it’d actually hurt to let him ridicule you, and the tears started to build up on their own. And when you didn’t do as you were told, he towered over you with a palm that was eager to cup your cheek, tilting your face in position for him to print a rough kiss on your parted lips.

“I said fucking sit.” Toji repeated, while you contemplated how someone who spews words so harshly could have such soft lips.

Sheepishly, you fell back onto the couch, expecting him to follow suit and not kneel on the floor like he did. “What’s the story?” He asked, large hands taking hold of your knees and slowly rubbing them apart.

“What makes you think there’s a story?” You prayed that he couldn’t feel your heartbeat bounce across your body as if it were an empty vessel.

“With you, there always is.” He licked his lips as his eyes settled between your thighs, darkening with lust the second they were met with the damp patch in the middle of your pink lace knickers. “Wanna hear all about it while I feast on your little hole.”

“You’re not gonna fuck—”

“First things first, sweetheart. Gotta make sure y’are all prepped before I stuff you with my cock.” Toji smiled, pushing your skirt until it rolled over your stomach. “If ya gonna scream my ears off, better be from pleasure, mm?”

You nodded, watching as his slender fingers slid your underwear off and temporarily—you hoped—shoved it in his back pocket. You saw him marvel at the sight of your exposed cunt and wished you could peer into his brain to hear him curse himself for not coming up with this idea first.

You looked so pretty down there, your puffy clit safely tucked behind its hood while your lips shimmered with your wetness—the scent so intoxicating his pants tightened into a size too small.

He was already considering his next favor. Now that the door was open, he’d make sure it never closed again. Bending you over the copy machine was the front-runner. Getting a print of your tits squeezed against the scanner while he blows your back, his palm muffling out the pathetic sounds you let slip—he’d be lying if that wasn’t what he fantasized about whenever you refilled the ink cartridges for him.

“Ya ever touch yourself here?”

His thumb swiped over your clit, drawing an incomplete circle that ended with light flicks around the sensitive nub. Left and right. Up and down. Searching for the combination that’d have your body answer in place of your mouth, and when your hips bucked forward, he knew exactly where to press.

“Y-yes!” You whined, more as a reaction than an answer to his question.

“And ya ever push a finger in?” He continued, teasingly dragging his thumb between your lips.

“Just one. Rest hurt.”

“Mhm, bet they do.” He hummed as he tasted you on his finger, exaggerating the suck with a soft pop. “Ever had a guy kiss ya there before?”

Toji gave his own answer as he buried his head in your pussy, the sticky mix of his saliva and your juices trickling down your entrance while he made out with your clit. You struggled to keep your thighs apart, the raspy grunts at the back of his throat vibrating against your mound in joint symphony with your breathy moans. His tongue felt so good soaking on your slick that you felt yourself melting into a pool of pleasure.

“Get talkin’ or I’ll stop.” He warned, slowing down with broad, near-maddening, strokes that occasionally dipped between your folds.

“I wanted to w-wait,” you panted. “Wanted to fall in love first, but then I waited too long, and—ngh, fuck, right there!” Toji pinched your folds apart, his stare lecherous as he sucked the puffy pearl into his warm mouth.

Your body jerked in response, the leather squeaking hard beneath your bared ass. You weren’t sure at what point interest surpassed curiosity, but the signs were all there, manifesting as heat in your cheeks and blood that threatened to drop from your chewed-up lip.

His jade eyes narrowed into a shrewd reminder. Putting your thoughts in order was impossible, but if you stopped, so would he.

“Everyone ‘round me started d-doing it, and I was the only one l-left.” You tried to regulate your breathing through your nose, your throat turning hoarse from all the strain. “Went on a bunch of blind dates, but the guys were t-turned off, and—how the fuck are you so good at this?”

Toji chuckled, the pink tip of his tongue parting your lips in a languid motion that made you shudder. “Let’s just say my marriage didn’t fall apart ‘cause of this.”

He mounted your knees atop his shoulders and neared your entrance, with his middle and ring fingers ghosting over the softness of your pulsing slit. “Gonna use my fingers now. Be a good girl and cum on them, will ya?”

The first digit pushed forward, much thicker than any of your fingers. You felt so full already—nails digging into the cushions, while he thrust in and out of your walls, curling the lone pad to find a spot so sweet it elicited a moan of equal sweetness.

“Ya did well to come to me.” He continued, his raspy voice effortlessly sexy. “Kids these days don’t know shit ‘bout pleasing a woman.”

The veins on his wrist flexed along with his scars as his ring finger joined in the action to defy your previous claim. There was no pain. Only immense waves of pleasure leaking through your squinted eyes as hot tears beaded your eyelashes.

“Doin’ so good for me, darlin’.” He praised, repeatedly hitting the swollen bundle of nerves inside your throbbing cunt, bringing you closer to the edge with each thorough pump.

“Maybe I was wrong, hm? Maybe that’s what ya wanted all along. I know I did. Fucking wanted my hands on this pussy since I first saw ya fidget with your little skirt at that interview.”

“Toji—”

He dived between your legs again, his hand maintaining the same erratic pace even while his tongue hungrily lapped at your clit. Your head lolled back, the tension in your guts rapidly building up until you came undone, your pussy clenching and creaming around his calloused fingers.

You’d never finished so hard on your own, the tremors of your orgasm ringing in your ears and jogging your memory.

Your first impression on that day was sadness, right? Sadness over the wedding band the handsome stranger hid in his pocket right before entering the building, thinking no one else caught sight of it, and embarrassment about how your impure thoughts for a married man followed you into the shower every night after work.

“Atta girl.” A present-day and very-much divorced Toji licked his lips into a smile. “Their fucking loss.”

His knee pressed into the gap between your thighs as he stood on his feet and prompted you to open your lips. You took his fingers in your mouth, licking your cum off while your chest heaved with one labored breath after the other.

“See how good ya taste?” Toji cooed, rhythmically fucking his fingers on your tongue before removing them. “Sweeter than honey.”

“Thought you didn’t like sweet things.” His coffee order came in mind.

“How ‘bout we make an exception?”

You weren’t sure what got into you when you grabbed him by the tie and pulled him forward, kissing him with such vigor you’d never experienced. You always thought of losing your virginity as checking an item off your bucket list. You didn’t imagine you could ever lust after someone the way you currently lusted after Toji, your desire escalating into an all-consuming need.

His tongue moved as skillfully in your mouth as it did when it explored your pussy, dancing with your own rather than overpowering it. You liked kissing him. You liked kissing him so much that you wanted to incorporate it into your morning hellos and your evening goodbyes, dragging yourselves into an endless loop of returned favors.

Without breaking the kiss, Toji hoisted you up from the couch and held you in his arms, his palms finding the perfect excuse to grab onto your ass while he carried you across rooms you didn’t care enough to see. A door creaked behind your back, and soon you were tossed onto a large body of endless softness—a bed, you realized as Toji hastily shoved a couple of pillows behind your head.

“Ever heard of that stupid nickname that goes ‘round work?” He whispered in your ear while his fingers worked on undoing your blouse. “How they call ya my work wife?” His palms slid around your ribs and back to unhook your bra. “Guess this makes it our wedding night, heh.”

You rolled your eyes, holding back a chuckle. “Don’t you feel any shame calling me your wife when you’re about to fuck me on your ex-wife’s bed?”

“My bed now, and what I say fucking goes.” He stripped your body from every garment, salaciously gawking at your nude figure on his (her) satin sheets.

You didn’t feel too bad about showing your body, but his stare was almost intrusive—especially with how he hadn’t lost a single article of clothing himself.

“Such a gorgeous body, wife.” He dragged out the final syllables, hoping to elicit a reaction separate from the soft pants you let out as he caressed your soft curves—both much softer than the bedding you were splayed across, liquid velvet in his hands. “Such a good little wife, saving herself for her husband to deflower.”

“Why thank you, husband.” You chortled, cupping his face in a deep kiss.

You knew Toji was the right choice. Not because touching him felt like winning the lottery or because he knew exactly what he was doing, but because he could’ve made this situation a lot more awkward and didn’t. He made your first time feel special, granting your wish of doing it with someone you loved, even if it was all an illusion that’d fade come tomorrow morning.

You almost thanked him as he began to unbutton his shirt, the display of corded muscles and pale scars breaking the dam between your legs. Whatever your type might’ve once been, was no more. It was all Toji, with his clenched fists lifting the weight of his brawny, veiny arms, his shoulders so wide you could ride on them, and the self-complacent smirk your stupefied expression brought to his lips.

“This ain’t an exhibit, sweetheart.” He mocked. “You can touch all ya want.”

He didn’t need to say it twice for your palms to roam his body, starting from his neck and slowly gliding down his torso, feeling out the tension in his steeled abdomen. His skin was smooth, except for the few unruly hairs leading down to the bulge in his crotch, whose sight alone made you lick your lips and buck your hips into his. You wanted to see the rest of him.

“You are the hottest divorcee I know.” You smiled earnestly.

“Ya know lots of ‘em?” Toji cocked his head while you shook yours with a giggle. “Don’t be so flattering.”

“I do have a great-aunt…”

“Oh, please.” He groaned, allowing you to laugh it out. He didn’t like how his bottom lip twitched as he struggled to contain a chuckle of his own. He’d long sworn off girls that made his heart skip a beat.

“Think y’are ready?” You nodded. Repeatedly.

Digging his knees into the bed, he stretched an arm toward the nightstand, fishing for a bottle in one of the drawers. Lube, you realized as he settled it beside you to remove his pants, flinging them along with his boxers to the other side of the room.

Your eyes widened at the sight of his cock, an expression that didn’t look too good considering fear was about the last emotion you should be experiencing.

He was packing in every sense of the word. Long, thick, and definitely heavy as it hung above his hefty balls, the reddened tip pointing at your entrance. It wasn’t like you’d never seen a cock before. Porn existed, and so did perverts in trench coats, but comparing either one to him was both disrespectful and a huge understatement.

“Don’t go cold on me now, mm? It will fit.” He read your mind, taking your hand in his and slotting the bottle in your fist. “Prepped you so good for it. You’ll see; you’ll like this more than my fingers.”

“Promise.” He added, squeezing your hand reassuringly. You chose to trust him, and when he brought your other hand to his shaft, you knew what he was asking you to do.

The bottle spurted a thick glob of liquid that your palm smeared all over his cock head. Toji watched with bated breath as you stroked his length, each thorough pump of your delicate hands warming him up.

He deserved a pat on the back for not cumming right then and there—the distinction between the clear lubricant and his creamy precum becoming more prominent while he throbbed and twitched in your tight grasp. He thought about how much tighter your walls would be, milking every drop he had to offer while you writhed beneath him, with little ah-ah-ah’s and Toji please’s complimenting the squelching of your tight virgin cunt.

“That’s enough.”

He pulled your hand away and cracked the bottle open once more, rubbing a small quantity between his fingers and then scissoring them in your walls. You clung onto him, your hips chasing after his touch. Cute.

“Eyes on me, darlin’.” Toji leaned close enough so that your field of view was consumed by his face. “Keep your eyes on me, breath in ‘n’ out, and it won’t hurt one bit. I’ll take good care of ya.”

Your legs were parted as he ran his cock between your folds and pressed down firmly, his hand moving to your hip once he guided the first inches inside.

Toji was the first to react as he sank in deeper, about two-thirds in when he felt your pussy snare around him like a vice, the warmth of your walls making him curse under his breath. His last fuck was less than a weekend ago, and yet he felt like one of those loser kids he scorned earlier. He’d forgotten just how good being inside a virgin was—a one-and-done deal that would cease to amaze him after he fucked you into his shape.

“All good?” He remembered to ask, taking your strained yes at face value.

Small creases formed over your forehead, contorting your expression into a pained wince the further he sheathed himself into your wet cavern—and when his words weren’t enough, his lips took over. He kissed your worries away and cradled your breasts in his palms, doing everything in his power to keep the pain to a minimum as his hips met with your pelvis, bone against bone and skin against skin, until he finally bottomed out.

A whimper cut your kiss short, and for a second he feared tears would stream from your glassy eyes, not considering the possibility of your shaky legs wrapping around his back and your swollen, pretty lips calling out his name with a stuttered moan.

“F-fuck me, Toji. Please—fuck, I need you so badly.” You begged, dropping the pretense of composure.

“Yeah? Want me to fuck your little virgin pussy?”

“Y-yes, Toji, yes!”

“Yes, what, doll?” He teased. “Say it.”

“Please be my first, Toji.”

His grin turned feral in a heartbeat, your words stirring something in him that he could not explain.

He was prepared to spend the entire night fucking you at a snail’s pace, buttering you up with praises, and pampering you as if you were a golden egg goose, but now he didn’t have to. He could fuck you exactly how he pleased—fold your knees onto your stomach and hold down onto your thighs, pussy all exposed to where he could watch his cock pound into your hole and hear each and every strike of his balls against the fat of your ass—and you would take it.

But when he looked down and saw the ring of red that’d formed around his shaft, he had a change of heart. Maybe another time.

Planting his fingers on your hips, he withdrew slightly, purposely aligning his tip with the roof of your cunt. He didn’t have to go hard to make you happy. All he had to do was hit that one spot, and you’d be coming back for more. Having a steady thing wouldn’t hurt either. It was convenient—certainly better than burning gas driving across town just to pick up some random slut he’d tire of five minutes into her over-the-top screams. At least you lived close by.

With lavish strokes, he rolled his hips against your own, dipping forward to grind his pubic bone against your mound. It didn’t take long for the stimulation to get overwhelming, your hair falling from your strict work up-do all over your sweaty forehead while you thrashed around the sheets, huffs escalating into whiny moans.

“Sh-shit, gonna cum, Toji.” You managed, though there was no real need to tell him.

Your body responded perfectly to his, wetness gushing over his cock while your walls tightened impossibly around him. He fucked you through your high, wrapping his arms below your shoulders and muting your blissful sobs to chase after his own release. Your breasts were squeezed against his pecs, pebbled nipples making him regret not giving them the proper attention.

This wouldn’t be the last time. Your body was like a playground to him, and he sure as hell wasn’t done playing.

“My fucking work wife.” Toji grunted possessively in your ear, nipping at the lobe. Only his lower half moved, a constant snap of hips bouncing through the room as the second lewdest sound after the ones you traded. “Wanna send your ass crawling to work on all fours. That’ll show them, mm? Show them who fucked you so good. What a—fuck, what a good slut y’are f’me. From a virgin to my whore—hah, make ‘em all so jealous.

“Shhhhit, ya like that?” He interpreted your clenching as he willed. “Wanna start a rumor? Fuck on every desk, in every stall, and have everyone know?”

“Yes, Toji! Yesyesyes, want everyone to know you f-fucked me.”

You went back and forth between panting out his name and chanting yes, as those were the only two words you could mindlessly repeat. He wasn’t joking about making you scream. You were on the verge of passing out, so engrossed in ecstasy that you’d lost track of how many times you’d climaxed.

“‘s too much, T-Toji!” You begged, burying your head in the curve of his neck and breathing in his musk. You were both so sweaty, glued together like two puzzle pieces.

“One more, sweetheart. ‘m so close—wanna feel ya cum with me.”

He toyed with your clit until he started to fall out of pace, drawing his cock out before it was caught in the spasms of your pussy. A hefty load burst in his fist as he jerked himself off to your fucked-out form, hot drops of cum spraying your stomach like creamy droplets of rain.

Neither of you realized how soaked the sheets were until Toji left the bed, his eyes not faking their surprise. You didn’t seem to be in that much pain, and yet the amount of blood and wetness was at least equal to carnage.

Would it be a dick move to task you with his laundry?

He spared you a glance, not bothering to hide his smugness. Your legs were still trembling, your breasts puffing up in your struggle to breathe through your agape lips. He was tempted to tell you off—something cheesy like, “Want somethin’ in your mouth that badly?”

“Hey, kid. You are not dead—are you?” He asked jokingly, laughing through his nose as you found the strength to flip him off. Now that the effects of your orgasm were wearing off, so was your obedience.

“How’d ya like your first time?” A thumbs-up this time. “A’right. C’mere.”

The longer he let the stain settle, the more of a bitch it’d be to remove it. That’s what Toji told himself as he picked you up in his arms and carried you into the bathroom, returning to the bedroom only to roll the sheets into a ball he’d later discard in the washing machine. He wasn’t avoiding looking at your cute face, and he definitely didn’t think of your weakened infant-like state as cute when he scrubbed your thighs clean with a wet towel either.

A weird image sparked in his memory, one from the many nights you’d spent working side by side at a dimly lit office. He remembered you ordering him takeout and looming over his head like a vulture while he went neck-to-neck with the vicious spreadsheet program. You insisted on tutoring him, claiming your dressy outfit was a result of canceled plans—even though you kept stealing glances at the clock—and staying with him until the wee hours when you didn’t have to.

You really were a sweetheart, an angel, and all the other terms of endearment he used on you knowing they made your lips stretch and your eyes sparkle. But that wasn’t for you to know.

“Toji?” Your voice jolted him out of his reverie—frail, but not as frail as the hands that wrapped around his own to snatch the towel.

What could he say to make you leave without any harsh feelings coming back to bite him in the ass?

He pondered his options while you bent forward from where he’d seated you on the counter by the sink. You held his limp dick in your palm, gently wiping the dried blood and cum that clung to his girth.

It was sickening how quickly he stiffened, all ready to ram it in your pussy and fuck you with the mirrored view of your ass in the backdrop, but what truly made his guts churn was the little cheeky smile you beamed with. He stood by his words. Virgins were the biggest sluts.

The towel dropped to the floor as you pointed his cock at your entrance, and that was all the convincing he needed.

“Fine.” Toji sighed, pinning your wrists on the cold quartz counter top. “You can stay the night, but mention work and I’m kicking ya out.”

This is definitely not how you say it.

You made it to the office the next day after a brief raid on your apartment. Going to work in your previous day’s clothes screamed, “Look at me! I got laid!” And as fun as creating all those fantasies with Toji was, you could do without earning “Hated Employee of the Month.” Everyone hated you for being friends with him as is.

He waited until you’d changed into a presentable outfit and dropped you off a block further away for precaution. You shared your final kiss in the car, wasting a whole fifteen minutes sucking each other’s faces off like teenagers at a drive-in. Dating a colleague was against the rules, and you didn’t want to date Toji either. Not that he’d asked. Not that you expected him to ask.

Losing your virginity was a lot more complicated than you thought.

He counted on you to bring coffee, and you would have if an intense craving for spicy tuna onigiri didn’t win you over. The convenience store was right around the corner, and its coffee was honestly not that bad if you squinted your eyes and fooled your senses a bit.

You grabbed two onigiri from the stand—in case Toji felt like stealing yours—along with an apple juicebox, both as a means of thanking and poking fun at him. You paid for the items and walked to the office, nauseated by the butterflies that swarmed in your stomach. You should’ve really eaten something instead of having your final hookup at the breakfast table.

A few people greeted you in and out of the elevator to the forty-seventh floor, some commenting on your looking less gloomy than usual, but that was about it. The world spun the same way it did even before you had sex. No big change or mind-blowing epiphany; just a euphoric feeling of accomplishment that dissipated the moment you saw the stack of documents waiting on your desk.

“That’s just the tip of the iceberg.” Toji magically sprouted from behind, loaded binders balanced on his arms—the same arms that’d lavished you with affection all night long. “They had a fall out at one of the subsidiaries, and now we gotta clean up their shit.”

And back to reality we go.

“Where’s my coffee?” He searched for a cup on his desk.

You pushed your desperation aside and held the juice to his face with a smile that turned awkward the longer he took to accept it.

“It’s um, you know.” You stepped closer, placing the box atop his mountain of files. “Thank you.”

“Also, got you this, so don’t even think of taking mine.” You balanced the onigiri beside the juice and plopped down on your chair, an antsy, blushing mess that refused to meet his stare until he looped an arm around your headrest and attached his mouth to your ear.

“Care to do me a favor?”

#Toji x reader #toji smut #fushiguro toji #toji x y/n #jjk x reader #toji fushiguro #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #fushiguro toji x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fanfiction #jjk fanfiction #toji <3 #toji headcanons #toji fic #toji x you #jjk fanfic #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader

[annie115]

Roommates Part 1 (LN4 x Reader) First Person Perspective

Summary: Reader and Lando have been friends for a while but some circumstances make them live together..

A/n: posting that again because it didn’t show on the tag page :(

Warnings: none, we‘re just getting started ;)

Word count: 1,300

It was just one of those days. I woke up this morning without being able to take a shower simply because my shower didn’t work. Without having time to solve the problem I rushed to work, desperate for a coffee and a sandwich from my favourite bakery. When I arrived at the little coffee shop, it was closed because apparently the owners were on vacation. When I arrived at work everybody needed something from me. I wasn’t able to finish the work I actually had to do, so I had to stay three hours longer.

Now, I was on my way home. I wanted nothing more than taking a shower, ordering pizza and eat it with my pyjamas on in front of the TV. But as you might think, of course my day had to get worse. My phone rang and I sighed before picking it up. “Hello?” I asked and a male voice answered. It was my landlord. “There is a pipe break in your apartment and we have to take car of that. I´m really sorry but I´m afraid you have to find a place to stay for the next one or two weeks.” I wanted to cry. It was official, today was the worst day of my entire life. Leaning back in my seat of the subway, I sighed, thinking of what to do. I couldn’t afford going to a hotel, not for that long. I had a good job, no doubt on that, but I didn’t earn that much.

I was working for McLaren for almost an entire year now. After I finished my studies in Tourism Management, I applied for the job as the hospitality coordinator and was more than surprised when I actually got it.

It was a dream job, really. It was hard work but I got to travel the world and met so many new people, some of them even became friends.

Four months ago I eventually moved to London. It was closer to the headquarters than my home town and I always wanted to live here. McLaren even supported me and paid a part of my rent for the apartment, happy that I would be closer to the company. They have a big office in London as well which made it easy for me to get to work, during the off-season or between races.

After realizing that I didn’t really have a choice, I called the first person that came to my mind. “Hey Ace, what´s up?” Lando asked when he picked up the phone. Ace. That was his nickname for me. I passed my studies with straight A´s and one day he saw my CV in the headquarters. He´s been mocking me ever since, jokingly of course.

“Lan, I just had the worst day”, I started and noticed that my voice was trembling. “Shit, what happened? Do you want to come over?” he asked with a soft voice. “Actually, could I maybe sleep over at yours tonight? I´ll explain everything then”. “Yeah, of course. Do you want me to pick you up?” “No, it´s fine, thanks. See you in a bit.” I hung up and made my way to my apartment to get some clothes.

After a few knocks, Lando opened the door and welcomed me with a warm hug. I pressed my head against his shoulder and inhaled his scent, immediately relaxing. “Come on in, are you hungry?” he asked and guided me to the living room. “I´m starving to be honest. Can we order a pizza?” I looked up with him with teary eyes and he cooed. “Of course we can”, he answered and I sat down on his couch. “What happened?” he asked while he opened the delivery app on his phone. I sighed before the words started to bubble out of my mouth. I told him about the minor incidents this morning but that the pipe break just made everything extremely worse. I must´ve looked like a little child who was complaining about something unnecessary but he just wrapped his arms around me and gave me a quick kiss on my cheek.

“You can stay here as long as you need, okay? Don´t even think about going to a hotel. I have enough space”, Lando said and you gave him a light smile. “I just don´t have a guest room, unfortunately. But my bed is big enough. Or I can sleep on the couch if you´re uncomfortable with sharing a bed..” “Lan, it´s okay thank you so much. If anyone would sleep on the couch it would be me, but I don’t have a problem sharing a bed with you”, I interrupted him, not wanting him to overthink our sleeping situation. He nodded and got up when the doorbell rang. I looked after him, noticing that he looked extremely handsome tonight. I just couldn’t quite say why. He was wearing grey sweatpants and a black McLaren t-shirt but the outfit somehow underlined his muscular statue. He seemed to have a bad hair day, if that was even possible, because he was wearing a black cap backwards which, let´s be honest, is just hot by itself in most of the times. A familiar feeling was spreading between my legs and I pressed my thighs together. I had those sexual feelings for quite a while but I couldn’t risk a friendship like this with some meaningless sex, could I?

He came back and my stomach grumbled when I inhaled the delicious smell of pizza. He sat down next to me and opened the pizza box, closing his eyes. “Wait, did you not order one for you?” I asked when he handed me the box. He shook his head. “Diet, meal plan, F1 driver”, he said and I laughed. “Poor baby”, I cooed and took a bite of my pizza, looking at him teasingly. “Keep doing that and I´m gonna bend you over my knee”, he said and I almost choked on my pizza which caused him to laugh loudly. I gave him an angry look and he just smirked, giving me a smooch on my cheek.

After the most delicious pizza I´ve ever had, probably because of how hungry I was, I leaned back on the couch. “Do you want to watch a movie?” Lando asked but I just shook my head. “I think I would fall asleep after ten minutes, to be honest. Can I just take a shower and go to bed?” I asked and he laughed. “Yeah, of course. You know where the bathroom is, just make yourself a home okay?” he said and I hugged him once more before making my way to the bathroom. It was connected to the bedroom so that I was able to get my pyjama from my suitcase. I pulled it out of the suitcase and closed my eyes in disbelief. Of course. I had to pick the shortest pyjama I had. I was in such a hurry earlier, with all the plumbers working in my apartment, that I didn’t even realize which one I´ve picked. It was light pink and very pretty, but not exactly appropriate for a sleep over with your male friend. I decided that I didn’t have a choice so I grabbed it together with some fresh underwear and locked myself in the bathroom to take a shower.

Leaving the bathroom, Lando was already sitting on the bed scrolling through his phone. He was only wearing sweatpants, no shirt and I had to swallow. The next weeks could get interesting.

When he looked at me, a wide smirk spread on his face and I rolled my eyes. “Cute outfit, Ace. Wanna seduce me?” he asked and I sticked my tongue out. “I was in a hurry earlier, okay?” I simply said and got into bed. “What time are you getting up tomorrow?” I asked him. “I don´t want to wake you up”. “I usually get up at like 7, you?” he answered and I smiled. “Me too”, I said before putting my phone on the charger.

I fell asleep within seconds, exhausted from the day I had. The last thing I noticed before I entered my world of dreams was Lando´s smell and his body which was coming a little closer after he switched off the lights.

Next part

#lando norris #lando norris fluff #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris smut #formula 1 #fanfiction #ln4 x reader

[pookietv]

am i cool yet? | george clarke

thank you for all the love on my first post, appreciate it massively!!

have a little george clarke x singer because i love the thought of that loser (affectionate) with a very cool girl

liked by georgeclarkeey, arthurtv and 7,390 others

arthurnfhill: guess who is going back on artour!! (please come and don't let the tour flop)

georgeclarkeey: it would be quite funny if it flopped though

↳ arthurnfhill: so funny i am laughing so hard rn

user1: cannot waiiiiiit when do tickets drop!!!

↳ arthurnfhill: 10am next friday!

yourusername: hm that sounds cringe. wonder who will even bother showing up to that stinker.

↳ arthurnfhill: literally so cringe, wait until you hear about the support act, they suck so much, gonna be the worst show ever

↳ yourusername: i don't doubt it x

liked by arthurnfhill, georgeclarkeey and 3,904 others. tagged @/arthurnfhill

yourusername: good news, i am going on tour! bad news, it's with @/arthurnfhill (but on a serious note, tickets go on sale 10am friday, so if you wanna come by and hear us sing some little tunes please do!)

georgeclarkeey: jeez he said he had a stinker support act but i didn't know it was this bad (but of course i am kidding and you guys will smash it)

↳ yourusername: @/arthurnfhill is this the irrelevant flatmate you were telling me about??

↳ arthurnfhill: unfortunately, yes

↳ georgeclarkeey: @/yourusername ah, so my reputation proceeds me

liked by yourusername and 1,293 more tagged @/yourusername and @/arthurnfhill

arthurhillupdates: pictures that y/n put on her story from the first show of the tour tonight!!

userone: omg can't believe i missed the ticket drop, these two performing together ???

usertwo: they are literally both so hot i can't

userthree: i would kill to be backstage ngl

liked by georgeclarkeey, yourusername and 6,830 more tagged @/yourusername

arthurnfhill: artour night one in newcastle was very cool! a little disappointed that y/n looks cooler then me on stage but i will have to live with it

georgeclarkeey: to be fair i don't know what you were expecting, you don't look very cool anyway

↳ arthurnfhill: you can't be mean about things that are true

yourusername: if you need any stage coaching lmk

↳ arthurnfhill: rubbing a lot of salt into a fresh wound

↳ georgeclarkeey: @/yourusername i'd keep rubbing it if i were you

↳ yourusername: @/georgeclarkeey is that what you usually say to women?

↳ userone: she ate him up lmaooooo

arthurtv: can't wait for the london show so i can pester you live

↳ yourusername: couldn't have said it better myself, can't wait to pester you too

liked by arthurnfhill, georgeclarkeey and 3,473 more

yourusername: half way through the (ar)tour, thank you for all the support so far!! (+plus a little throwback from when i was just a girl making silly youtube covers)

bambinobecky: to say you look hot is an understatement

↳ yourusername: you're gonna make me blush x

arthurnfhill: wow that photo is great wonder who you pestered until they took the photo

↳ yourusername: got absolutely no clue, some random guy with a pedostache took it for me backstage

↳ arthurnfhill: crying in the mens bathrooms rn

↳ yourusername: you're getting awfully upset about the photo credits

↳ arthurnfhill: want to be able to put 'y/n's photographer' on my cv thats all

↳ yourusername: would be the only thing on there to be fair

gkbarry: jesus you're gorgeous, where's arthur been hiding you?

↳ yourusername: in the basement, says he's too famous to be my friend anymore :,(

arthurtv: don't tell him i told you but clarkey said you looked pretty in this photo

↳ yourusername: clarkey being too scared to comment on a girls instagram seems on brand to be honest

↳ georgeclarkeey: arthur you're a snitch and y/n you're mean

↳ yourusername: @/georgeclarkeey maybe but i wasn't wrong

liked by georgeclarkeey, arthurnfhill and 3,928 others

yourusername: london, you were amazing! the best night to end tour on, thank you all so much for coming to artour and supporting

arthurnfhill: thank you for supporting (even if you were very annoying)

↳ yourusername: is this seriously what you were typing when you were at the bar ??

↳ georgeclarkeey: can confirm, i saw him typing it

↳ user1: omg they're together?? clarkey and y/n meetup !!!

georgeclarkeey: was a very cool show, shame arthur had to come on and ruin it

↳ yourusername: for real, the audacity of this man to play at his own tour, smh

↳ georgeclarkeey: i couldn't agree more, should have just been the y/n show

liked by arthurtv, georgeclarkeey and 3,483 more tagged @/georgeclarkeey

yourusername: don't let george take you for a walk in london, he takes it as photoshoot opportunities and makes you take a million of him (proof referenced above)

arthurnfhill: you spend time with him once and complain, this is what i deal with all the time

↳ yourusername: i have never pitied you more

georgeclarkeey: who is that good looking man??

↳ yourusername: think you're mixed up, @/arthurtv isn't in this picture x

↳ georgeclarkeey: now thats just cruel, especially after i paid for dinner

↳ yourusername: poor you :(

liked by georgeclarkeey, arthurnfhill and 4,192 others

yourusername: i forced the boys to take me to the local pub just to get aquainted

arthurnfhill: we will never let you have sambuca shots again, you just became mean

↳ georgeclarkeey: she actually became nicer to me the more drunk she got

↳ yourusername: @/georgeclarkeey that's just because i was relying on you to look after me x

arthurtv: you are abnormally shit at pool

↳ yourusername: hey you weren't much better, hill carried you so badly

↳ arthurtv: says you who teamed up with george just to make him help you with all your turns

↳ yourusername: don't hate the player hate the game, not my fault george felt like being nice to me

↳ arthurtv: wonder why he's so nice to you

liked by arthurnfhill, georgeclarkeey and 5,289 more

yourusername: why not to leave men alone with your phone, a thread

georgeclarkeey: you have done us a little dirty with these photos

↳ yourusername: shouldn't have taken them on my phone then

↳ georgeclarkeey: don't lie you love it

chrismd10: third one is going in the wank bank

↳ yourusername: wish i could say the same

↳ georgeclarkeey: am i not wank bank worthy?

↳ yourusername: really think about what your life has come to commenting this on instagram

liked by yourusername, arthurnfhill and 7,839 others

georgeclarkeey: she tried to teach me how to play, am i cool yet?

yourusername: i think i speak for all of us when i say no x

↳ georgeclarkeey: at least i tried

↳ yourusername: tried being the operative word

arthurnfhill: can confirm, sounded like a cat dying

↳ georgeclarkeey: okay fine, you can stick to being my rockstar boyfriend

↳ arthurnfhill: okay pookie

maxbalegde: he came into the office and swore down he was a top ten artist

↳ yourusername: i mean if top ten is top ten worst he might actually be right x

liked by georgeclarkeey and 8,380 others

yourusername: my boyfriend is not very cool but he is hot and i love him all the same (turns out he has a thing for super cool awesome rock girls)

georgeclarkeey: i am not sure how to feel about this, you both violated me and complimented me

↳ yourusername: feel grateful i complimented you, was just going to violate you originally x

↳ georgeclarkeey: well when you put it that way, gosh i'm just so lucky

arthurnfhill: nice of george to wear a hat that labels all of his skills so quickly and easily

chrismd10: honestly thought world war three would come before george got a girlfriend

↳ yourusername: you and me both (he's holding me captive please help)

liked by yourusername, arthurtv and 8,296 more

georgeclarkeey: if i get a cool girlfriend, does that make me cool by proximity?

arthurtv: no

arthurfnhill: she is barely cool let alone you

chrismd10: in no universe are you cool

yourusername: good try george, but no x

↳ georgeclarkeey: i'll try again with my next girlfriend then x

↳ yourusername: took you this long to get one girlfriend i don't think that will be anytime soon x

↳ georgeclarkeey: kidding, i am not letting you leave (you are the only one who can tolerate me)

hope you enjoyed !! :)

#george clarkey #arthur frederick #chrismd #chaos crew #uselesshotline #atv #arthurhill #georgeclarkey x reader #georgeclarke x reader #georgeclarke fic #georgeclarkey fic

[bloopitynoot]

Shadowgast Corporate/Office-Au Rec List!

Hello I'm back again with more disaster wizard (well and in this case working professional but more office-like setting) recommendations!

This list is a little bit more bawdy than normal (I love a good smut fic, but I also try to vary the ratings on these lists for those who may not share my enthusiasm).

If you want to see my other shadowgast rec lists- they are linked at the end of this post. ANYWAYS- let's get into it!

______________________

1 As per my last email

As per my last email (11651 words) by LivThael (I don't think they are on Tumblr- if they do please comment so I can tag- but they have a twitter listed in the notes of the fic) Chapters: 11/11 Rating: Explicit Summary: Essek Thelyss is an asshole with a questionable taste in spreadsheets. Caleb Widogast has more important and certainly more interesting things to do than filing travel expense claims. A series of mails turns into a escalating meeting. Or: Please stop writing me emails, I genuinely hate you. - Explicit content only in chapter 10.

What I loved: Anyone who has worked in an office knows a passive aggressive email when they get one. Plus we have the added bonus of having to deal with accounting to get expenses covered- ugh, so good. The energy of these passive aggressive- yet flirty workplace emails between new hire Caleb and kind-of-an-asshole Essek in accounting is *chefs kiss*. The build up to their meeting was written so well! I also really love the way the fic is formatted- the email style gives it an immersive feel.

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2 Paradigm Shift

Paradigm Shift (114,291 words) by full_time_dreamer_behold (I don't know their tumblr, please totally feel free to tag if they have one- i'll add it). Chapters: 28/28 Rating: Teen and up Audiences Summary: Recently moved to Rosohna, Caleb accepts a job at a prestigious law firm, but the work turns out to be menial and dull. Thankfully, his life takes a turn when he makes new friends and starts taking a curious interest in the IT Manager- the handsome and intriguing Essek Thelyss. Could he be reason enough for Caleb to stay in this place? He certainly intends to find out.

A friends-to-idiots-to-lovers slow burn with a sweet ending.

What I loved: This was such a lovely slow burn. It covers hard topics in a corporate kind of setting including racism, nepotism, and power dynamics that really suck but it handled with care and well written. I also really love the disability representation here! This slow burn is so so good, I super recommend! Also bonus it's the length of a beefy novel!

_____

3 the golden thread around your neck whispered visions of my undoing

the golden thread around your neck whispered visions of my undoing (172812 words) by MarsBar2019 (If you know Mars' tumblr please comment and I will tag- I couldn' find it in the notes). Chapters: 38/? Rating: Explicit Summary: Caleb Widogast does not belong here. The world of sharp suits, board meetings, and billion dollar budgets is a far cry from Caleb’s preferred domain: the research lab. Where nobody cares about his faded T-shirts and raggedy jeans. But a year of industry experience will look good on his CV, and the hefty pay bump wouldn’t hurt either. How hard could a secretary gig be? What he finds behind the glittering edifice of Auriga, Wildemount’s leading name in arcane technology, is CEO Essek Thelyss, who maintains his domain with an acid tongue and an iron fist. It’s difficult not to find him intriguing, this handsome, guarded, brilliant man. It’s even more difficult not to want to please him. Caleb knows to keep it professional, though. Working late nights together at the office and lingering glances here and there don’t cross the boundaries of propriety. That is, until they do.

Or: the one where Essek Thelyss loses focus and has a consensual workplace relationship.

Updates weekly on Mondays.

E-rated chapters: Ch. 4, 9, 13, 14, 17, 18, 22-23, 26, 32, 38

Why I love it: Out of all the recs this one is the SPICIEST (and I love that). Head the warnings - there may be stuff that isn't for you, but if you, like me, enjoy a 6/5 spicy level fic- congrats this one will not disappoint. This story is in progress but updates weekly which is fantastic. We have big time and hot mess CEO Essek and his personal assistant disaster bisexual Caleb- of course it's an HR scandal waiting to happen, but also, Essek might come out a better person for it. I cannot recommend this enough, this fic is so so good. In addition to the smut, it's also just a really fantastic story.

_____

4 sleep, with benefits

sleep, with benefits (62272 words) by KmacKatie @kmackatie Chapters: 12/12 Rating: Explicit Summary: Caleb Widogast wakes up from the first good night of sleep in far too long. It takes him a moment to realise it's because he's not in his bed. Is it the better mattress (lump-free and like a cloud), or the fact he drunkenly slept with Essek Thelyss, the colleague he's been secretly crushing on for the last six months?

Why I loved it: Let me just start off by saying kmackatie is brilliant and everything shadowgast that katie writes makes my heart sing. In this fic Essek and Caleb are captured so well- they are both big idiots who act like scared cats around one another (even though they both want the same thing) but honestly- can there be any other dynamic? This hot mess of them not using their words eventually leads to the best of endings and you should all read it because it is so lovely.

_____

BONUS FIC: (high school teachers, less corporate feel, but not what I would throw on a professor or academia list so its a bonus for this one).

5 all this science i don't understand

all this science i don't understand (8858 words) by mllekurtz @mllekurtz Chapters: 1/1 Rating: Mature Summary: Caleb knew how he was with crushes, he was aware that historically they’ve brought him nothing but trouble, and vowed that he wasn’t going to develop one on his new colleague. This resolution lasted a remarkable twenty-four hours. * Small-town high school science teacher Caleb Widogast has his life more or less figured out, or so he thinks. Then an unexpected variable gets thrown into the equation in the form of the new addition to the teaching staff: the handsome and clever Essek Thelyss.

Why I loved it: This fic was so sweet. I have a soft spot for fics that play with chronology in their story telling and this one does a bit of that. It is a shorter read but honestly that works really well for this love story. Caleb of course falls hard and fast and Essek does not mind at all. Some angst, but they are written so well and so soft, Brilliant <;3

_____________________________

My Other Shadowgast Rec lists:

Shadowgast fics that made me ugly cry

Shadowgast Space Opera-AU list

Shadowgast Bakery/Coffee/Tea Shop-AUs

As usual I devour all fics shadowgast so if there is a rec list you want to read that is tried and true- dm me or leave a comment. I always prefer to use my librarian degree for chaotic neutral purposes so hmu.

[I am totally thinking about doing a Professor/Researcher OR College-AU OR Time is a Weird Soup list next but we shall see!]

#shadowgast fic recs #shadowgast #for the shadowgast shippers #essek thelyss #caleb widogast #critical role #critical role fan fiction #mighty nein #cr 2 #I honestly love making these lists so much #if you have a theme you like to read let me know #I will totally make you a personalized list

[bettsfic]

Hello! Betty, can you talk more about your tags in that Baldwin post? It got me really curious. Also, how do you strip a text from yourself, where is the line?

(for context, the post anon is referring to is a james baldwin quote from the paris review art of fiction in response to "as your experience about writing accrues, what would you say increases with knowledge?"

his answer is, "you learn how little you know. it becomes much more difficult because the hardest thing in the world is simplicity. and the most fearful thing, too. it becomes difficult because you have to strip yourself of all your disguises, some of which you didn't know you had. you want to write a sentence as clean as a bone. that is the goal."

to which i then wrote what i can see know are indecipherable tags about the state of contemporary litritchure.)

so what really resonated with me in this quote is "you want to write a sentence as clean as a bone."

a few years ago i wrote a post about how all that matters is the sentence. and i got a bunch of people reblogging it in disagreement: writing is about character, conflict, yadda yadda. but it's just not true. you don't have character and conflict and all those other lovely craft things without the sentence. the sentence is the vehicle for meaning. writing cannot exist otherwise.

the way i interpret "a sentence as clean as a bone" is a sentence that is wholly in service of the narrative. this kind of writing is rare. it requires a lack of ego and an abundance of confidence, which are two things that don't often go hand in hand. it's hard for me to define it, because on the outside it sounds like i'm saying i prize simple sentences, and that's not true. i'm talking about raw sentences. ones that are written almost as if they had no intention to be read. which is ridiculous, because don't writers write to be read?

that's the big conflict. that's my beef. i've been an editor for seven years and i've read hundreds of stories from the slush pile. the prevailing pattern i see in it, and in most contemporary writing, is this underlying falseness. that this thing i'm reading exists only to be published. only to be a line on someone's CV, a clause in an author bio. i also see a lot of writing that asks me to look at the author over the work itself. applaud them for their clever phrasing and textured images and well-deployed rhetorical devices. and for the most part, i do applaud that kind of writing. like all writing, it's hard, and regardless of the intent, i value a punchy sentence. but sometimes it feels a bit like being in the audience of a magic show where i know how all the tricks are done. everyone is oohing and ahhing and i'm sitting there like, but can't you see it's not real? that it's a trick that's been done a million times before?

there's a lot of counterintuitive logic in what i'm saying. almost no one can write without the foresight of a place it might belong. if you write a literary short story, its destiny is a literary magazine. if you write a full-length manuscript, its destiny is a book store. without knowing where something might belong, you have no road to follow. i don't believe there are many writers out there rubbing their greedy hands together and demanding a pulitzer. but i do know that the motivation of write, for every single writer, is complex. it's inherently a drive to externalize that which is internal, and in that process it becomes flawed. it becomes something that begs to be seen. even if you want to be seen, even if you're dying to be seen, there is still always fear there, because the journey from your mind to a reader's is imperfect. what is in your mind fundamentally can't be in someone else's, and so we might be misperceived. the deeper and more cumbersome that fear is, the shallower and more myopic a writer's work becomes.

that's why what baldwin is saying here is something exceptional, and possibly something impossible. who is the writer that doesn't concern themselves with belonging? who doesn't write to be read? it's a paradox.

fanfiction as a genre, by definition, doesn't have this problem. fanfiction is written largely pseudonymously or anonymously. there is no profit. when i read a good fanfic, or even a not so good fanfic, the author is never saying, "look at me!" they're saying, look at this canon text through the lens with which i see it. and that practice is getting very close to what i think baldwin is talking about. closer, at least. i think writing fanfic is an inherently vulnerable process, and that's why i value it so highly.

ultimately, i don't think it's possible to strip a text of yourself. on a baseline cognitive level, language is the shape of our thoughts, and narrative--a sequence of cause and effect--is our primary tool of understanding ourselves and the world. what baldwin is talking about, sentences as clean as a bone, sentences that exist entirely in the service of the narrative, is a nearly unachievable goal. and so i think what he's saying is the opposite of taking yourself out of the work. i think he's saying you have to put yourself in it, wholly and unselfconsciously, the ugliest and truest parts of you, as if the work still exists within you, without the knowledge it might be read.

#writing advice #this is a level of craft theory that is so complicated i have a hard time articulating it #so i hope this makes sense #thanks for the great question anon

[duchessdepolignaca03]

I discovered Peloton Cycling and haven’t written much this week as a result of actually going to bed at a normal time to get in an early workout 🫣. But this idea has been percolating in my head now and I’ve recently gotten some encouragement by the surprisingly positive response to the notion of mpreg fic within my little RWRB social circle.

So thank you for the tag @priincebutt @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @zwiazdziarka and @onthewaytosomewhere for the tag!

And the tag is OPEN! I’m certain everyone I know has been tagged already. Except @sparklepocalypse who I know hasn’t posted yet because you’ve just told me.

I bring you, brand new, untitled WIP! It’s a bit rough, but that’s what a WIP is for, right?

TW: mpreg, miscarriage

Henry let his nervous energy out by singing and dancing badly to “Power of Love” by Celine Dion in the privacy of the loo. He hasn’t told Alex that he’s going to test – Alex thinks it’s too soon and doesn’t want to get ahead of himself. But Henry feels confident in the way he has charted his cycles and the timing of their most dedicated attempts.

The song is longer than the time the test requires but he waits until it’s finished to look. His heart is hammering in his chest – definitely from his cover of Celine and his bad dance moves. He peers down at the pregnancy test on the counter and sees…

A single line. Unmistakably alone. Not even the faintest hint of a second line happily joining it.

He doesn’t bother with a second. Just goes to make a “dirty coffee” (full-fat milk, sugar and sprinkles of cocoa and cinnamon) for himself and Alex, surprising his husband with it in a wordless recognition that Alex was right that it was too soon.

He’s certain the special lubricant will do. He had read that most regular lubricants had a spermicidal effect, and so did spit. So he goes to the CVS looking like an absolute hooligan in a thick hoodie, baseball cap and thick sunglasses to buy a bottle of said special lubricant, and another few more boxes of pregnancy tests for measure.

Alex laughs when Henry presents him with the special lubricant, but he’s game. Henry counts down the days until ovulation and bans Alex from “trying to sex me up” outside of the immediate 48 hours before and after.

It works.

Henry knows it works because his breasts are tender. He takes the tests just to be sure but this time he and Alex belt out the “Tell Him” duet together, Alex singing the Barbara Streisand bits. Alex holds him and peeks over his shoulder and they count down together to open their eyes at the same time.

And there it is. Two clear lines. A happy pair.

Henry cries tears of joy that quickly turn to grief a week later when he bleeds. With Alex sitting next to him, oscillating between concern and impassivity, he asks the doctor whether there’s any chance that the pregnancy might go on.

The doctor shakes her head empathetically, and tries to placate him by saying, “You’re most fertile after a miscarriage. You don’t have to wait to try again.”

#red white and royal blue #rwrb #henry and alex #alex claremont diaz #henry mountchristen windsor #rwrb fanfic #mpreg fic #wip wednesday

[fridayyy-13th]

THE "fanon is so much better then canon" REBLOG TAGS. WOULD U BE OKAY SHARING UR SASHA CHARACTERIZATION THOUGHTS AND OPINIONS THAT MADE ME SO EXCITED TO SEE..... . no worries if u'd prefer not to though or wouldn't be sure how to articulate all of that!!! im like that sometimes when there are just So many character thoughts so no worries either way :-]]] have a cozy day or nightttt btw

oh my goodness yes absolutely i would be okay sharing. Sasha's my girl!! i love her!!! and i will not stand for fanon's slander of my beloved.

a while back i made a post about the list i have of Various Sasha Observations from the episodes she appears in (tbh i still need to add stuff from MAG 039 to it...), but what's always struck me is just how full of character and life she is, even appearing in as few episodes as she did. she's curious, clever, snarky, pedantic, reckless, and cares for her friends so much. basically the opposite of the "braincell holder" archetype she's been assigned!! she faces monsters head-on twice to protect her friends, she learned about Martin's CV through her own snooping and kept that information to herself so he could keep his job, she seems really easy to talk to (in MAG 024, she manages to coax an amused tone out of Jon, who's in full prickly-boss-mode at this point in the series), and she's also just as clueless about archiving as the rest of the characters (see: the stapler incident. standard staples rust, i believe what she should have been doing to keep the loose statements together was putting them into individual folders? i'm not an archivist. but the idea Sasha would have been better at archiving is not true. she would have absolutely been a better Archivist though. in Jonah's eyes, at least. she's got Jon's lack of self-preservation and double the curiosity).

also just...as an arospec person i love projecting on her, honestly. aromantic!Sasha is a headcanon very dear to my heart; i'm particularly fond of queerplatonic interpretations of her and Tim's relationship. i'm also very fond of queerplatonic jonsasha! which is even harder to find!! i just love the ace/aro solidarity they could have. i've got fic WIPs that feature both those relationships in more spotlighted roles than they usually get, if only i could finish them...alas, i'm a notoriously slow writer. they'll get done eventually, i promise 😅

oh my GOD i almost forgot to mention just how often the other characters bring her up after her death!!! see, like, another thing about fanon is how often Sasha is sidelined, even when she's still alive, but Jon pauses for a heavy moment after Knowing she was killed by the Not!Them, and Martin repeatedly asks about her and her safety after "she" (the Not!Them) disappears, and Tim's downward spiral is accelerated by having lost another person dear to him to the Stranger. and even after her death, she's important to them. when Peter asks Jon "where are your friends, Archivist?" in 159, his first answer is "Tim and Sasha are dead," when his closest friend at the time is Daisy. this isn't even important to her characterization per se, but it's important to me that you know that she was so important to them. she was their friend!!! even though she was forgotten she was remembered as a friend!!!!!

...but uh, yeah. that's my thoughts, lol. Sasha James is the light of my life and fanon absolutely dropped the ball on her. fanon tends to drop the ball on most things but Sasha especially. God i love her so much. it's like my personal mission to get the fandom to care about her as much as i do.

#friday chats #the magnus archives #sasha james #anon tag

[beevean]

me constantly going in the CV tag despite knowing that it's 10% nice game fanart, 40% gifs of the show, and 50% some absolute braindamaging takes, is taking a toll on me

because after blocking the nth post admiring Lenore for playing Hector like a fiddle/saying Hector deserved to be enslaved for his original plan of culling mankind (nvm that babyboy Isaac was far more evil about it and he never got punished for wanting to "purify" the world)...

... I really want to think about Lenore and how I'd make her work with the crumbs that the show gave me lol

Lenore is obviously meant to be a parallel to Hector. Both of them are the animal lovers of their group, and mocked for it. Both of them are the "nice" ones in a group where cruelty reigns. Both of them are the least respected of their group - Dracula and Isaac shitting on Hector vs. Striga and Morana not even thinking about Lenore when they peace out. Both of them got used then discarded - yes, even Lenore, who became useless after enslaving Hector. Both of them are actually more of a threat than they look (allegedly, in Hector's case, but I can tell the intention was there).

Then there's the way they contrast. Lenore is a vampire who still clings on vestiges of humanity: she likes to eat food ("why live forever, if you're not going to live well?"), she rejects brute violence (again, allegedly) in favor of the more human art of diplomacy, she's compassionate about lesser creatures (humans included), and she's horrified at the realization that she is, deep down, nothing more than a greedy beast destined to crave more and more. Hector is a human alienated by humanity, who thinks culling is the kindest option, relates more to animals than his own species, and seems fascinated by the nature of vampires.

Imagine if the two actually bonded over this, and betrayed their "factions" because finally they found someone who respects them. And I mean organically bonded. On screen. With dialogue. Without the gross BDSM petplay. That part 100% has to go, it adds nothing, it's humiliation for humiliation's sake, it ruins Lenore's character, and it's just masturbation fuel.

I'd also change the scene where Lenore beats Hector. In my idea, Lenore flees from Hector's clutches, and then doesn't visit him again... for a week... and leaves him without food and water. By the time she comes back, Hector is desperate and is not above begging for some water, but she doesn't want to come close. "Are you going to hurt me again? :< you hurt me the last time :< you're so scary :< I did nothing to you and you tried to kill me :< I'm afraid that you'll do it again :<"

Basically, treating Hector like a rabid dog until he genuinely apologizes, and not only he learns the lesson that he shouldn't attack the only vampire who visits him, but he feels actually guilty and a terrible person about it. Made worse by how sensitive Hector probably is about all of this, as a love-starved abused child.

You know, manipulation, not just a brute display of strength to admire how stronk the girlboss is.

I don't know how their relationship would go from here, though. I only know that I'm more than happy with Lenore sunning herself: it is thematically coherent for her, her refusal to become like Carmilla, her guilt for hurting Hector, and if the two actually cared for each other, her choice to look at the only man who treated her with respect rather than the sun would be lovely.

Needless to say, we can only get here if she organically grows fond of him and doesn't rape him :^) but if she does, if she's really so cruel to hurt a man at his most vulnerable just to do what her sisters asked of her, then the story should treat her as such - and I'd also love to see Hector just snap, because by this point he's sick and tired of being seen as an object. Give him his big moment of taking down both vampires who hurt him. (in my vision not only he smashes Lenore's skull with his hammer, but he also takes a swing at Isaac - not killing him, just hurting him a little. please)

But I'd rather avoid that. I would like both characters to have agency - not even falling in love with each other, I don't care about that (they'd never be a cute couple anyway, not when she starts out as his jailer), just have a more interesting relationship built on two kindred spirits finding each other, but driven apart by their roles and nature. The vampire chooses death, the human grows and thrives.

There is sadly not going around the fact that Hector fell for two vampires (three if you count Dracula, but I can forgive that one) who employed the same strategy. I don't like the way Carmilla uses Hector either, but I can't be bothered to fix her rn.

#anti netflixvania #kind of. sort of. #mostly for categorization purposes #i'm just tormented by visions as usual #i wonder if i'll do to lenore what i did for surge lol #lenore thoughts #<- in case i need this post again

[lokisgoodgirl]

Who are some newer peeps (like within a year)

that have kind of just appeared one day and have stood out to you lately?

🌸

Hey sweet! I'm not sure I'm qualified to answer this as I've also been here under a year so take with a pinch of salt.

I remember when @joyful-enchantress @simplyholl @superficialdomina @lovelysizzlingbluebird and @infinitystoner first posted their stories they absolutely blew my little frickin mind. Like blew it to smithereens.

I've also loved sinking into the worlds of @psychospore and @littlespaceyelf and @liminalpebble who are imagery experts and magicians in the oneshot and mini series, and the mind of @chantsdemarins continues to amaze me in their utter unique creativity. It's actually insane.

@fictive-sl0th and @holdmytesseract and @muddyorbsblr came up around the same time as me and I continue to adore everything they conjur with Loki, it's quite the feat!💕 Their styles are all so different and yet, fill all my voids 🤭

There's honestly so many incredible Loki writers on this platform and I'm finding new ones to obsess over all the time, even if they're just new to me and actually they're legends 🤣 I make good use of the usual tags and if I see a new name I'm like *gasp* so I recommend you do the same, it's fun!

Ps this list is not exhaustive, I tend to avoid rec questions as I always feel I'm leaving people out as I read a LOT - however these are writers that come to my (CV addled) mind that have started in the past year.

I tag all my Loki reblogs with #loki fic recs so you can always search my blog for that if you like ♥️

#loki fic asks

[princessb4mbi]

╰─▸ ❝ HE'S AT YOUR WINDOW

𖦹 tags black!femafabreader, obsessive!leon, stalking, leon is very ooc, dead dove do not eat, mentions of emotional abuse 

𖦹 synopsis to sum this up, completely based on the “check your window, he’s at your window” trend on tiktok

𖦹 word count 1.1k

𖦹 a/n this will be the start to a series, how long? no fuckin idea, but enjoy this first part [story below the cut]

“Think the rain’s gonna let up?” Your close friend Vee asks as she looks out the window. It’s pouring outside of the store, causing the outside to have a nice blue hue to it. “I hope so, we don’t want to be here if it floods..” You responded, taking a sip of your bubbly soda after. 

You stare at the window too, slowly zoning out of what’s going on currently, and thinking about the past. When you and your ex, Leon, were together and it rained, you would just cuddle and watch movies all day. It was so perfect. Until.. until he went.. insane. His once calm and sometimes stoic demeanor would turn into a possessive and jealous one. “Hey. You alright?” You snap back into reality, facing Vee’s face. You shyly nod your head yes. But you assume that she has already seen the saddened look on your face before you could change it. 

“Babe.. he can hurt you anymore. He won’t hurt you anymore.. not as long as I’m here,” Vee says empathetically. You really owe her. To get someone out of an emotionally abusive relationship is hard, but she still pushed through for you anyways, even though it wasn’t her responsibility. She cared for you as if you were related to her. She placed her hand up to your cheek, caressing it softly. “I don’t want you to worry about him anymore, kay?” 

“Ok.” You smile at her. You’ve already told her this, but she would make an amazing partner if you two wanted each other non-platonically. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom real quick, text me if you need something, ok babe?” You hum in response, watching Vee get up from her chair, fix it, then take her phone and walk away. You take another sip of your soda, then go on your phone scrolling mindlessly on Twitter. Suddenly, a message pops up in your dms. Usually, you thought of it as those weird sex bots who desperately try to scam people. But it seemed too off, so you decided to check on it. 

Propped up was an obvious Twitter pre-made username, but they had a black pfp. The name simply said, KL. The message coming from them saying, I miss you. I’m lonely. You think nothing of it, deleting the message soon after. These people are just so weird behind a screen huh?.. You continue to scroll on your Twitter, giggling to yourself whenever you see a funny post. But then again, you see another message from the same account. You click on it again seeing something way more ominous. I miss your laugh. It’s weird, but there can be many reasons as to why someone would say that, and you were praying that it wasn’t because you were genuinely laughing just a moment ago. You decide to not entertain it by simply blocking and deleting the account from your dms. Then closing Twitter entirely. 

Vee comes back from the bathroom, walking back to the table the two of you shared. “Ready to go?” She said, visually refreshed. “Yea, let’s go.” The two of you walk out, then head to her car to go to her home. 

----

“Hey Vee, can I use this?” You say wrapping yourself in a towel and walking over to her. “My mielle? shitt girl.. you know those things rarely get restocked ‘round here,” You frown to that. Although you get where she’s coming from, you don’t need her to be stingy. “Pleasee.. I promise to go to the store and find you one!” You make a frown to try to convince your friend. She looks like she's deep in thought, but then she gives in. “Fine, put on your clothes first, then we’ll head to CVS quickly.” You hug her, then head back to the bathroom to finish up. 

The two of you walk into CVS, going separate ways almost immediately. You lift your head to find for the haircare aisle, walking to it when you see it. You accidentally bump into someone, mumbling an apology soon after. The person says “It’s okay,” with deep, raspy voice. You feel like you recognize the voice, but mark it off as nothing and continue to look for the hair product. 

The person you bumped into is still in the same aisle as you, but they have a hoodie on so you can’t make out their face. Not that you judge or anything, but they didn’t have the stature of a woman, and their muscles lowkey poked through their hoodie. They were tall too, maybe around 5’11? You quickly turn back to yourself so you aren’t caught analyzing someone. 

You feel your phone buzz in your pocket. Assuming it’s Vee, you take it out to see what’s going on. Another Twitter message. You unlock your phone to go look at it, another black pfp account, but with another name. KSL. It seemed similar to the other “KL” account since it had the same getup and all. The message they sent through, was what made you nervous. You’re still so clumsy as ever, princess. You look to the person next to you, them being in the same spot as before but staring at a product. What the fuck? This was getting too good to be true, and you were getting freaked out. But you did what you knew best.. block and delete the account from your dms. 

You go farther down the lane, passing by the stranger. “Looking for this?” The pale hand extends to you the Mielle Oil you were looking for. They turn to face you, and your heart drops in horror. 

It was him. You left him 6 months ago, and never spoke to him again. Just took your things and left. You honestly have never seen him around since then. His icy blue eyes stare down into yours, with his lips curling into a small smirk. Your toxic ex was back in your face, and you couldn’t believe it. You had no time to worry, you needed to get out of here. You run to the check out isle, seeing Vee scan her items. “Did you find it?” She says looking around your hands for the product. Her expression changes the moment she truly sees your face. She furrows her brows and asks “What’s wrong babe?” 

“He’s here. I don’t know how, but he’s here and we need to leave. Now.” 

Vee nods at your request, and you help her bag her stuff. You panic as you put the items in the bag, and the two of you hurry to leave the store and get to the car. “Go inside the car, I’ll put it away,” Vee says as she opens the trunk of her car. You get inside the passenger seat, putting on your seatbelt and waiting patiently for Vee to finish. She gets inside the driver seat, putting on her seatbelt then wastes no time to turn on the engine and drive away. A sense of relief fills you, but you see Leon in the outside mirror of the CVS, standing ominously. 

“You won’t get away from me. Not anymore.” 

#leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy angst #leon kennedy fanfic

[nicktremblaywayfu]

The Goddess tied our fate (2/2)

Chapter 2 : At Last We're Finally Together

Author Note : I want Arthur and Ammit to wreck my ass at the same time so there you go Ammit fucking you using Arthurs body and somehow lowkey forced you both into an intercourse. Also Post-asylum Harrow

Summary : Your Internship has ended, adding a worth experience note in your work cv. Despite all the treatment you gave to Arthur, including fulfilling his lust almost every night, his goddess wasn't still satisfied.

Rating : 18+ (Adults Only !)

Pairing : Ammit/Reader/Arthur Harrow

Characters : Arthur Harrow, Ammit, You (reader)

Tags and Warning : Dubcon, Body possession, a hint of Ammit wanting the reader in THAT way, the reader is early 20s, Porn with semi-plot, Older man/Younger woman, age differences, height differences, power play, emotional manipulation, hair pulling, using threats, trespassing, yandere coded, possessive, fingering, oral (female receiving)

Words : 4045

Available on Ao3 as well

—

You packed your stuff in your room, one of the few last things to do here. Your internship was over and the hospital was satisfied with your work. Especially in handling Arthur and had calmed his episodes of misery, they praised you for your hard job. The fact that they have no idea how you do that was a miracle. He was declared to be legally sane, though you doubted that. Somehow you wondered if they manipulated his data to cover up the true suffering he had deep inside. He was still sick, but he was good at masking it. He may look fine but the reality was the contrary. He was still far from being okay.

However, considering at least half of the hospital staff were his followers, judging from them having similar sigil on their wrist, maybe they would handle him even if he was away from the hospital. You decided to let them do their job, it would make your head dizzy thinking how complex it could be. Besides they must need their goddess inside him. Just for both her and his sake they took them away from the public world. 

No fund was needed in his treatment, as two men were generous enough to pay. In fact, it was them who put him in this hospital for his well-being. Although strangely, you only saw one man despite him filling in two names. Perhaps for his friend that was shy to show up ? You wished you could know these generous men better.

The farewell was not big, but the staff were kind enough to give you a small farewell gift. A necklace with golden scarab pendant, lapis lazuli sphere decorating the center of it. Too fancy for a little gift. Must be from their beloved leader that was for sure. 

But you can't resist the beauty of it. It fitted perfectly on you like it was meant to be  

You took a last glance at the hospital before driving home, and the next thing you need to know is finding a real job to fill your stomach and pay the bills. 

Oh to think it must be nice living in Harrow's cult. You called it a cult, he called it a community. But technically it was still a cult, even if it was too nice to be called as such. They didn't need much money in their wallet as almost everything was produced in their own village. Vegetables, meat, some of them even able to build their own energy source. No need to work from 9 to 5 for a minimum wage, just living happily and helpful.

The road was busy with the sunlight temperature being mild. Not as cold as fall, not as hot as summer. A perfect temperature. People minding their own business, their jobs. Parents walking down the street with their children, couples hugging each other after long time no see. A thought of your mind picturing Arthur sitting on the passenger’s seat striked you. 

You shook your head, you doubted that your feelings were involved. Yes you had done countless sexual activity for him but that was for his sake to be given mercy by whatever creature inside him. Your farewell with him wasn't filled with teary eyes anyway. Just casually bidding a bye as he was picked up by his followers.

Although one stranger did ask his whereabouts, a man with a similar face with the one that funded his treatment. He drove a limousine, like picking up a world-level celebrity. The hospital staff were suspicious about him, lies were emitted hoping it would save their leader from that man, whoever he might be. He glanced at you for a while before going inside his limo and left without any words.

And just like that, the only thing left in front of you was the gust of wind dancing with the fallen leaves.

After what you felt like a long journey on the road filled with busy humans, you finally reached your house. It was not big, but enough to put your head under the roof sheltering you from snow or rain. Series of clicking unlocked the door, and a poorly lit room greeted you with a little bit of sunlight as its main light source.

You inhaled, air coming inside your lung filling the emptiness inside of you. You would definitely miss the crowd of the asylum.

And you were not the only one missing something right now.

You freezed like a cold cobblestone statue in the winter, looking at the sight served in front of you.

A man that is no other than Arthur Harrow himself, sitting on a small sofa. Book of your personal journal opened in his hand, the witness of whatever he did in your house.

“I just couldn’t stop thinking about you.” His blue eyes felt like speaking as well.

“I- we just couldn’t. We couldn’t just let you leave like that.” He slowly stood up, putting your journal on the coffee table.

“And what does that mean by all this? What are you doing in my house?” Your hands snaked to your pocket, looking for your card knife.

“No no, wait, please, I don't mean to hurt you.” He marched towards you and wrapped around your body with his hands, hugging you tight as your card knife dropped from your hold.

“I’m sorry I have to come like this but I promise you, we meant no harm.”

“Arthur Harrow, you just trespassed someone’s house ! Tell me a reason why i shouldn’t call the police for you action-”

“BECAUSE IF YOU DO, HE WILL BE THE ONE SUFFERED ! ” Thundering voice shocked you to the point your body met the surface of the floor.

Your breath was shaky, eyes widened with what you saw. A fury on his eyes, hands opened acting like a claw. And you thought she was calmed after all you did for her human.

Within a second, his expression changed. Anger turned into worry, fuming reddening face has faded with a drop of tear fallen.

“Are- are you alright ? I’m sorry, I'm terribly sorry.” Arthur helped you to get up, making you sit on the sofa comfortably.

Your legs felt like jelly, you even needed to hold on the table to stand before. Mouth even too weak to say something for a moment.

“Listen, I know you won’t forgive me for this, for trespassing your house, I know and I understand. But I need you to know that I can't just leave you.” He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, it would be sweet if there was no demon inside him.

“You’re not healed yet, Arthur. How could you even declared as legally sane was still beyond my understanding.”

“Because she was not an illness. She is a goddess. My goddess. She was truly trapped inside my body. Please, listen and believe me.” He pleaded, voice cracked as he was about to cry.

“Then prove it. Last time you told me she couldn’t show up fully because the world could no longer know her whereabouts, nor her existence. Now, there’s just the two of us.” You gave him a sharp, serious gaze. You really meant it and demanded proof.

Arthur looked down for a moment, sighed then looked upon your eyes.

“Please be gentle with her.”

He was not talking to you.

He steadied his breath, stroking your hair softly. Only for a few seconds later the soft gentle strokes turned into a rough, hard grasp tugging at your hair.

“After these times, you still doubted me, mortal ? If I wasn't trapped in this disgusting flesh prison, I'd show my fangs close enough for you to see that I am , in fact, real.” The Goddess inside Arthur tugged your hair hard enough, forcing you to face the ceiling above.

“Oh I hope this was proof for you because I do not wish to punish your fragile human body. But justice still needs to be served and I need to know your fates as well your sins before I can officially declare you as a good person.” She chuckled in a sinister way. Letting go of your hurted scalp from the tug, she grabbed both of your hands and put both on Arthur’s.

Both of you looked at the swinging scales on Arthur’s wrist, scaling your fates, your sins, as well your good deeds.The more you struggled to let go, the tighter she held your hands.

Seconds felt like minutes, minutes felt like hours, finally the scales have decided.

A deep, dark green hue shown on the scale. The color of good deeds. The color of balance.

“Well deserved, even though you doubted me before.” She smirked widely, then let Arthur take control of his body again.

The way he looked, reminding you of a sad, lost puppy in the middle of rain. He looked at his scales, still in green hue.

“I know you are a good person. I never judged you before, because I just know from my deepest heart you never meant any harm especially to us.” He smiled at you, a hint of sadness behind the curve. You were still in shock, not knowing what to do nor to say. Perhaps you shouldn't take the internship program in that damned asylum. Maybe if you never knew him, you would never be dragged into this kind of shit show.

“Don’t leave us. Please.” Arthur held both of your hands tightly.

“Not with my life being threatened, Arthur.”

“I know, I promise that was the last time. Please, I'm begging you.”

“Please. Please, I'm begging you. Please, stay with me.” He bowed his head down to your hands.

“I’m sorry. Please, I'm begging you right now.” His voice was shaking, as you felt your hands getting a bit wet.

You sighed, giving time for your mind to decide. It was not like you couldn’t take care of him. It was what inside him that worried you.

“Do you truly have a heart to refuse his beg? This man right now genuinely enjoins you, mortal.” Wrists were painful as she took control of him for a moment, grasping you mercilessly.

“Very well. I will. I will stay just for you.” You leaned in, kissing Arthur’s hair softly. His hair was softer now, although it didn't smell like fragrant shampoo nor smell bad. Just smell like him. The scent that you were familiar with.

Arthur brought his head up to see you. Pitiful red eyes with his cheek turned into a river stream of his tears. You furrowed your brows as well pressing your lips together, hoping you won’t regret this life-time commitment.

“Thank you. Thank you, I owe you everything.” He stood up a bit to hug you so tight that you struggled to breathe a bit.

He was once ambitious, some even called him a ruthless man. Now he was completely broken. Living as a live prison for a damned goddess. He sat next to you, calming his weep. You stroked his back, trying your best to comfort him. Never in your life have you seen this man so emotional. So fragile. Fragile like a thin porcelain that was broken, now forced to hold itself with just a drop of glue.

He leaned on you, head resting on your shoulder. There was silence for a few minutes, a space for your both minds. It was far from awkward silence, yet you couldn’t say this is a comforting one as well. Just silence.

“I hope you liked the gift from me.” He glanced at your golden shining necklace.

“I do. I really love it. Thanks, Arthur.”

He smiled softly.

“The necklace was found in 334 BC. It belonged to a high priestess in that era. Forged by the best blacksmith and given to her as a gift that she has helped Ammit gathered hundreds of her followers. Wise and charismatic, the necklace was the witness of her kindness.”

“And now, it was bestowed by you.” he lifted his head to face you fully.

“We want you to have it. Your soul truly reminded us of her.”

He pulled his face closer to you, an inch away from your mouth.

“Stay with us, and we shall guarantee you will be treated much even better than how the high priestess treated in royalty. With this necklace as a symbol that you belong to us only. Be at our side. Be with us forever.” Arthur then put your hands together and kissed your knuckles gently.

“And I swear to Ammit your stomach will always be full, your head will be sheltered from rain, and your body will always be covered in excellent garments. What do you say?” Oh how could you say no with him then calling your name, whispering it like a magical chant.

“My answer remains the same. I will stay with you.” The space between you two was getting smaller.

“Forever?”

“Whatever you wished, Arthur.” 

Felt like you were hypnotized answering it.

“Then so be it.” He leaned in, forehead touching each other. You closed your eyes as well with him, trying to learn that now you have to love him.

And suddenly, Arthur striked your lips with his. Hands on your cheek, forcing you into a deep, passionate kiss. You struggled to breathe with the sudden kiss.You tried to pull out from his kiss, only to hear an animalistic heavy growl from him. 

“What the fuck are you doing Arthur ?!” You slapped him, then rubbed the spit he left on your lips with your sleeve.

“That- that wasn’t me.” He stood up, trembling with fear.

“I would never force you to do that.” His expression was too genuine to be faked.

“That was me, coward.” His body stiffen with veins showing on his neck. eyes shone purple for a second.

“You have laid with her many times yet you were scared even just to kiss her right now. I did not let you live just so you couldn’t initiate to achieve your dream. It was always me who made the first move. Might as well take her as my lover if you keep being this coward, Harrow.” 

You were practically cornered in your own sofa, body sinking like hoping you could escape into nothingness.

“You were a coward, but I shall be generous enough to let you speak and see it by yourself.” And just by that, Arthur gained his consciousness once again. Except all his limbs and his body were lost from his control.

“My goddess, please don’t hurt her.” He pleaded as his body moved against his will.

Ammit didn’t answer as she kept holding the wheel steer of his body. His hand involuntarily cornering you more, trapping you in your very own house. All of what Arthur did to you was never truly out of his control despite it being his body. In another word, you were about to be fucked by two person at the same time in one body.

He then bit your neck, putting you in a choke hold both metaphorically and literally. Your neck being devoured would surely leave a deep red mark, with his hand now creeping under your shirt. You tried to push his hand away yet his bite only got harder.

“Stay still.” His voice was mixed with a godly lady heavy and hoarse voice.

“ I’m sorry.” Now his voice was what you usually hear from him. His real voice.

It was easy to tell apart who was who speaking to you.

His hand creeped inside, finding the bra you were wearing. He unclasped it on your back, lifting it inside your shirt and started playing with your breast.

“Arthur-” You almost choked on your own spit as you felt your nipples hardened.

“Forgive me. I truly didn’t want to hurt you.”

“Oh you’re lucky to be controlled by me. I know how to please her more than you thought.” She let out a deep, velvety animalistic chuckle. Like how you would imagine a crocodile laughing.

She continuously rubbed your nipple slowly, letting it pop on each stroke of Arthur’s thumb.

Still in Ammit's control, Arthur kept assaulting your neck with his mouth. He could not deny that he enjoyed it, but not the way that you were threatened. Yet what can he do anyway? The fact she let him get his full consciousness was more than generous enough.

After what felt like hours, he let go of your reddening, almost in purple hue hickies. His drool streaming down to your collarbone. Arthur started to unbutton your shirt, so eagerly like the goddess inside him couldn’t wait any longer. He tossed your shirt as well your bra to the floor, leaving your chest bare and hanging as a view. Despite the number you have been doing with him, he never ceases to be amazed with your body. It always felt like the first time. 

Like a hungry crocodile hatchling, he clinged his mouth to your breast, with his hands supporting his weight and the other paying with your other breast. His growls matched your pant, trying to endure the sensation. He sucked on your breast like always been yearning for it.

Lips pressed firmly against your sensitive nipples as he sucked and licked them. His tongue sliding along your hard nipple until you screamed loudly as his teeth sank on it, biting you slightly. A loud moan escaped your lips, causing him to suck harder, and then he bit you deeper.

"There's no need to resist you two mortals. None of you could lie to my face." Involuntarily, Arthur grabbed your throat and choked you.

The strength of his arm muscle mixed with the force of Ammit made your head get lighter. He then kissed you again, having no choice but to succumb and let her enjoy your mouth using his body. You gave up, limping as Arthur devoured your lips. Tongue dancing to each other as he kept eating you. 

After it was satisfying for the goddess inside of him, Arthur pulled out the kiss. String of saliva connected both of your tongues, showing how you have mixed your mouth fluid with his. You inhaled deeply, exhaling with relief that you could breathe. 

Arthur reached your pants eagerly, with you stopping him.

"Ammit, I need to talk to you." You looked at Arthur's eye sharply.

"Do you truly wish to resist furthermore, human?" She spoke.

"Do we really need to do this? I have done enough for Arthur and the promise was you to let him live in peace. Is this what you call peace?" Just after you finished your words, she laughed loudly and tilted Arthur's head.

"Oh dear, are you really thinking I'm doing this solely because of my wish? Tell her, Harrow. Tell her the truth. Tell her why you couldn't stop thinking about her so that you came here." His expression dropped as she gave him control again.

He closed his eyes for a moment, pressing his lips.

"I'm sorry. What Ammit said was true. It was my wish to make love with you again." Arthur softly stroked your cheek.

"But I didn't wish to end up like this. Do I really have the choice to disobey? She has my body and now I can't even move my own limbs. Please, tell her if you wish to stop. I'd deal with the consequences just for you to be safe, you don't have to worry about me." His eyes began to tear.

"I will be fine." Sometimes the whisper of gossip that he was manipulative was true or not.

You did not answer for a moment. Rather, you took off your pants completely, spreading your legs for him to see your vagina bare and whole.

"You could've told me from the beginning, Arthur." You gestured to him as an invitation.

Arthur truly couldn't lie to his lust. He swallowed his spit looking at your pussy, wet and slick with the juice dripping. Like knowing as he rubbed it with his thumb, his fingers gently caressing your outer lips. You mewled as he began pumping you with two of his digits, deep against your inner canal. But he saved it for his mouth.

You saw Arthur closing his eyes as he placed his tongue on your opening. He sucked, moving his mouth, now tongue dancing with your clit.

"Arthur- Fuck !" How do you tell Ammit that she does really know how to please you using his body?

He kissed, ate, and licked your pussy. Your lubricated vagina was mixed with his spit. His whole tongue covering your lower lips, licking it whole. Oh it was just the beginning and he was drunk like you were an alcohol for him. He put his tongue inside you again, licking you clean insides while his finger continued to rub your clit mercilessly. 

This is exactly how he wished to do after last night's wet dream he got. He did not have the courage to ask, but Ammit did not care about his doubts.

He kept sucking your pussy as his tongue went inside you, teasing you. At the end you wanted more and more. So much more than just his tongue. You moaned so loud, feeling the pleasure of your orgasm coming up, ready to burst.

And when he felt it, he pulled out of you. He carried you from the sofa, putting you on the large coffee table causing mess and everything fell from the surface.

Arthur looked at you, in a form of mix between sad, lust, and eagerness. he pulled his pants down, letting his cock revealed in full glory. Throbbing and veiny, ready to meet your entranceHe lifted your knees, positioning you at the entrance. He put one leg over his shoulder as the other being held, guiding himself to your hole. He let go both of your elevated thighs, placing both of his palms on top of your hips, pushing you deeper into him.

Both of his arms holding your waist as he pushed himself into you, your hands forming a fist enduring his girth. Your breathing became more shallow, and your heart beating faster.

He leaned closer, supporting himself. He looked at your face, reddening cheek with tears falling down. He swore to Ammit that this intercourse felt like the first time.

“Oh my goddess-” His chest puffed and collapsed as he tried to adjust his breath with his lust.

As he rocked in and out of you, his hips thrusting in a fast pace. You panted and moaned loudly, some of them were half emitted curses Some of them were pleas. All of them were filled with ecstasy. The fact that you were being fucked mercilessly on your coffee table was the least thing you expected today. The sight of your tits bouncing from the pace only to make both Arthur and Ammit eager to fuck you harder and rougher than before.

"Arthur" You tried to speak between your breaths.

"Slow down, i'm gonna-" You couldn't speak a whole sentence fully.

Instead, he held your waists and fastened his pace. He was destroying your pussy, head thrown back with mewl turned into short screams.

Finally, you let yourself out. Shaking and trying to gain your full consciousness after being wrecked by him. You were caught off-guard with him suddenly rocking you again, for Arthur to reach his climax. He snaked his arms behind your back for support, hugging you as he let himself out filling you inside. He caught his breath, feeling how his seeds were spilling from your hole. He pulled away, releasing his grip around you.

You limped on the table, energy drained by the intercourse. You probably needed assistance to walk properly for a few hours.

Arthur fell on the floor, gaining his full control once again. He looked at his hands, then looked at you.

“What have I done..” He pulled some tissue that the box fell on the floor, rubbed you clean from his own seeds. 

He carried you, letting you lay on his lap. You were really tired, exhausted that you couldn't say anything. 

As you looked at Arthur, you heard the familiar whisper.

“You belong to us forever, mortal.”

—

#arthur harrow #arthur harrow x reader #moon knight fanfiction #marvel villain #x reader #moon knight #mcu #ns/fw #reader insert #self-insert #arthur harrow fanfictions #ammit #ammit x reader

[jaybarou]

I'm turning some of my most AU fanfics into Original short stories in the hopes of selling them to a publisher. (And thus get some cred to send my CV to Publishers and leave my job)

While I unfic them all, I'll post them here and you can read them with the tag #limited edition. I'll delete them after a few days

<7k words

Freddie is running out of time before the presentation for Stenson Industries and he needs a competent technician yesterday. How fortunate, then, that someone who was waiting and overheard his problem is willing to help.

Freddie burst into the hall and everyone held their breath while the second son of the boss made his way to the head of department. The rest of the employees mourned the poor woman and settled to watch the dismemberment. There were three rules in the company. Number one: Don’t piss off the boss. Rupert was a clever bastard who should have been a lawyer. Number two: Don’t mess with Tim, he was under Rupert’s protection and Rupert would utterly destroy you if you dared contradict the guy. Number three: Keep Freddie as a friend, but only behind Rupert’s back.

Freddie had turned into a tyrant lately. He used to be the most understanding of the three and the one to go to if the others were being unreasonable. The Winter fiasco had taken its toll on him, but even with the new bitterness, he was far more flexible than his relatives and he was your man if you wanted something that was technically off-limits. Going against Freddie was a suicide too, especially after the winter thing. Today Freddie had his ‘I have had a horrid day and I’ll be polite about it until I’m not’ face going on. The head of the department was so doomed.

She didn’t know it yet, though, since Freddie was coming from behind.

“Rosita,” Freddie’s icy tone clued the woman in, so she was properly scared when she turned to face her boss. “May I inquire as to the whereabouts of our IT crew?”

Ow, he was using the big words, he must be royally crossed.

Oh, but the head of department was breathing relieved, she probably had an ace up her sleeve. Anyone who worked at the Intenur Company for longer than a year had to lean to be prepared for their bosses’ moods.

“I alerted them when you asked me; I have sent no less than three messages this week and three more during the morning in anticipation. They assured me that the material would be ready yesterday and that they wouldn’t work on it today.”

Wow! Perfectly deflected blame! And the IT crew wouldn’t have it too bad; they were Tim’s friends. This was not a surprising development all the same; they always messed up Freddie’s tasks, and everyone knew that it wasn’t a coincidence. Tim’s protection was the only explanation as to why they still had a job.

“And the material is there for Tim’s and Rupert’s worthless power points, but I told them there was a compatibility problem with my presentation a week ago.”

“With all due respect, sir, that is not my responsibility.” Rosita had brass balls, or ovaries.

Freddie pinched the bridge of his nose and breathed slowly. “I’m aware; Rosita, but now I need a solution.”

“The other presentations are not causing problems,” she had the cheek to mention.

“Of course not! They are using the company’s system!”

“And why is that a problem? Maybe if you didn’t insist on using your personal computer...”

“It is a problem because it is Pi-21’s stupid technology, Rosita. What kind of impression do you think we will give to Miss Lloid and Mr Stenson if we present our data with their rival’s technology?”

“I’m sure they know by now.” Rosita sent a furtive look at the clients whispering into each other’s ears; a businesswoman and some oil-stained technician. Freddie didn’t spare a look. They were probably gossiping about Freddie’s tantrum; that seemed to be the default these days. Maybe Freddie’s interruption was making them impatient, but Freddie couldn’t care less. He had bigger problems.

“I can’t just transfer my presentation; Pi-21’s software keeps wrecking everything, I could write the transfer code, but not in the next...” Freddie looked at the clock on his mobile. “Not in twenty minutes!”

“I could call the IT crew for you.”

“Today it is Sophie’s shift; she will say that it is my fault, for working with Stenson technology. She only works with simple ‘intuitive’ code like Pi-21’s. I want someone competent!”

One of the two waiting clients approached them.

“I-” he started. 

Freddie didn’t give him the chance to complain.

“I’m terribly sorry for the delay, but there is an emergency in the company.” Freddie usually kept his cool like a boss, well, better than the other bosses. He was usually PR’s wet dream, but he could be downright irrational if the situation really got to him. The Winter Project had been proof enough. “Unless you can fix the computers in time, kindly stay put for a few minutes.” The ‘or else’ was implied.

“I certainly could,” the client said cheerfully. Freddie looked at him skeptically.

“But…” Rosita tried to intervene.

“Do you have a solution, Rosita?” Freddie asked.

“Of course she doesn’t, she is a clever girl, Pi-21’s software is not for clever girls. Show me to the problem, Mr Legs.” The man had the gall to walk to the door where Freddie had come from and open it for him.

Freddie regarded the man warily. Twenty minutes. He still had time to look desperately for someone else if the man couldn’t help and fail. “Why not? I’m doomed anyway.” Freddie walked to the door with a sigh.

“But, sir! He is Ryan Stenson!” Too late; the door was closed. “I’m so screwed,” Rosita muttered thinking of the moment when Rupert heard how she had failed to stop Freddie.

Miss Lloid put an understanding hand on her arm; she probably knew a thing or two about trouble with bosses.

*

Freddie took the man to the conference room where he would have to meet the head of Stenson Industries. He had his custom Stenson laptop there with his presentation and an enormous mess showing on the Pi-21 screen of the company. There wasn’t even an error message, just all the text overlapped with the images and the data, and then it had frozen. If Rupert wasn’t such a resentful man, they’d have Stenson’s holo-displays everywhere instead of that waste of space that Pi-21 called technology. Unfortunately, Rupert would own the company for as long as he lived and Tim would follow his steps like a trained monkey.

The unexpected client-turned-help didn’t ask for permission, he just sat in front of Freddie’s computer as if it was his. He sent a disdainful look at the problematic frozen screen and he turned to Freddie with an amused smile to say: “Let’s start with archaic solutions for archaic technology.” Then the technician crouched to unplug the projector.

“I’ve done exactly the same more than once today.” It was the only way to unfreeze the projector, but Freddie resented the know-it-all attitude of the technician.

The man seemed to take that as a challenge, so he cracked his knuckles and promptly opened the familiar black window of MS-DOS. He started to write while Freddie looked over his shoulder. He was pulling pieces of code that Freddie had not considered, and he didn’t even need to do much after he was done. He just opened the Stenson software for presentations and saved the file that Freddie pointed out in a format that wasn’t there before the man had touched the computer.

The smug bastard had a cheeky smile when he presented Freddie with the pen drive.

Freddie saved all his praise until he plugged the USB drive on the projector and it miraculously worked. The clock on the screen said it had taken the technician… less than five minutes. Freddie was pleasantly surprised; he was going to thank the stranger, but then the presentation played the music that Freddie had saved without hope of it working.

“This thing never plays music, at least never at the same time as the presentation!” He let himself slouch on the chair closest to the projector. The presentation was saved. 

“It was just too easy,” the smug technician commented.

“I would have managed with a bit more than twenty minutes,” Freddie said, pride a bit hurt.

“If your coding is as good as your people skills, twenty minutes would have easily become a week of work.”

“What gives you the right to say that?” Freddie protested.

“You have not even asked my name.”

Freddie pursed his lips. Despite having collapsed on the seat, he was tense all over. He had been stressed since he found trouble with the presentation a week ago and predicted more trouble with IT on top of the other preparations. The man was right, he had been snappy and the presentation hadn’t even started yet, so he took the chance to breathe deeply. And to collect his politeness from the depths of despair.

“Excuse my manners, I-”

“Yes, you don’t need my name, just my services,” the man cut him without retracting that annoying smirk of his.

“Fortunately your coding is better than your own people skills, then,” Freddie said, annoyed.

“No, just as good, people love me, I have people skills to spare somewhere, just not today,  and I have a lot of class.”

“And what are you implying there exactly?”

“That music in your presentation? Tacky.” Let it be known that Freddie knew when he was being mocked and when he was being teased, he just had more experience with the former. 

“I didn’t expect it to work and I can put whatever music I want, because the content is solid.”

“Show me.”

Freddie leaned forward. “What?”

“I said show me!” The technician leaned forward too. “You have time, right? I want to see the monster I helped to create.”

Freddie didn’t have time to reply, because the man stood up, took the remote control from the table, walked in front of the screen and played the presentation. Freddie did have the time now; Stenson should be with Tim and his unproductive dreams of harnessing storms to generate electricity. The technician’s opinion wouldn’t be very enlightening, but this way Freddie would have the chance to check his own presentation one last time.

“This section, why is it so short?” The technician said about the grid connection as he sat on the table. Freddie sat next to him.

It was Freddie’s favorite section, but Rupert didn’t like it, so Freddie had only sneaked a basic idea. He was quite proud of having passed it under the old man’s nose.

“Rupert is old school.” Freddie smirked privately. “He likes the old power plants and he hates Stenson. Hates that his green approach to energy is harming our productivity, and he doesn’t see that an update could benefit both of us. After all, as you see here, we already have a power grid that Stenson wants; we would only have to update the power plants. It would be a great investment, but he doesn’t like it.”

The technician crossed his arms. “He doesn’t like Stenson?”

Freddie laughed. “It is more than dislike. Stenson is the bane of his existence, as Rupert says: who does he think he is, that short-sighted idiot? or whatever short joke he thinks at that moment; apparently the man is quite short.”

“Yes, people say that. Go on.”

“Well, Father always says that Stenson will destroy America, because Forbes might call him a hero but his technology is destroying jobs everywhere, his words, not mine.” Freddie rolled his eyes.

The technician kept playing the presentation and smirked at one of the references.

“That is the project I… saw in a magazine about Stenson. It is not well known, is it? Have you been stalking him or something?”

“I’ve done my research. That high-entropy alloy project is spectacular, but it is not showy enough for the press, or the shareholders, Miss Lloid and he will probably value that Intenur-”

“Your boss is not here, Legs.”

Freddie hesitated for a moment, but the man was smart, he was learning how the Intenur Company worked incredibly fast.

“They will value that I recognize the real potential out of the flashy prototypes for the general public.”

“Are you saying that they lie with their flashy prototypes?”

Freddie looked the technician dead in the eye.

“Of course they do. That’s what marketing is about.”

“Would you tell them that to their face?”

“Of course not. Rupert would behead me if I did something to hamper his deal.”

“Why would he want a deal with a man he hates?”

“I convinced him that he could push his hate aside for the good of the company and to leave a better legacy to Tim.”

“The company, of course, because clean energy and the bigger picture are nothing compared to stock numbers.”

“Obviously you have never discussed it with Rupert. I told him what he needed to hear; I won’t jeopardize the ‘bigger picture’ as you say, by telling him something as feeble as the whole truth.” Freddie leaned his hip against the table. “Then the shareholders gossiped about Stenson and how easy it would be to negotiate some changes with him and Rupert was sold.”

“Huh? And what did they say about Stenson?”

“Why do you ask?”

The technician shrugged and grinned. “Because I want to keep listening to your voice, but I don’t think you’d appreciate me distracting you from the topic.”

Freddie raised an eyebrow at the blatant flirting, but let it slide. “They said that it takes a lot to keep Stenson interested in a single topic unless it is really engaging, but they also told us to use eye-candy to keep him involved.” Freddie allowed himself a private smile, the one that people compared with a snake’s. “Tim called his girlfriend to play the part of eye-candy. She is an expert in the field of his presentation, so he was terribly angry that she was called only for her looks.”

The technician shared his smile with the same subtle touch of cruelty that Freddie found… endearing.

“Maybe you should have read more magazines, and you would know that you put eye-candy in your presentation anyway?”

The technician was looking up and down at Freddie quite obviously. Freddie’s lip twitched and he retreated any endearing thought that had passed through his mind.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean he swings both ways, you know?” Freddie didn’t dignify that with an answer, which was a bad decision, because the technician came back. “Don’t tell me you are one of those bigoted idiots who think bisexuality is just...”

“You are lucky I needed you. That comment would have you in the street by yesterday if you worked here.” Freddie didn’t appreciate being called bigoted; he had enough putting up with Rupert daily trying to keep his second son’s “scandalous ways” in the closet, thank you very much.  “I was merely surprised; I don’t think I’ve ever been called eye-candy before.”

“Why the hell not? Do you usually hang out with blind people? Wait, Rupert is the guy with the eye-patch, right? Does that count as half-blind?”

“That is very insensitive of you.” Freddie chastised, but his twitching lip was persistent. He would love to say it was annoyance, but deep down he knew it was amusement.

“Let me guess; that comment would put me in the street by yesterday if I worked here. How lucky that I don’t actually work here, don’t you think?” The man had no sense of self-reservation. “And let me tell you, if your definition of eye-candy is allowed to have brains, you totally qualify, take it from an expert in eye-candyness.”

“An expert.” Freddie deadpanned with only a badly concealed hint of interest showing.

“An expert indeed! I look into the mirror every day, after all.”

Freddie pretended to think seriously, looking the technician up and down on his spot sitting on the table. He was indeed quite handsome, but Freddie was not going to make the same mistake twice and appreciate a man within Rupert’s earshot. “No, I don’t really see it.” Despite the words, Freddie sent a challenging look at the technician that contradicted is words, just in case the presentation went well and Freddie decided to celebrate when he went home.

“I’ll have you know I look amazing in a suit, in any suit, or with nothing at all, I’m only wearing the workshop uniform to piss… my friend off. Hell, I could wear a corset and stockings and I’d still look hot as-”

Freddie’s phone pinged. He put a hand up to make the technician stop for a moment while he read Tim’s message and his face fell a little.

“Apparently the eye-candy won’t be necessary after all. Tim says that Stenson didn’t come; it was only Miss Lloyd in his presentation, and apparently she is headed here.” Freddie looked at the clock. “Early. You should probably leave, ask Rosita anything you want at the front desk and tell her I approved it. She’ll make an invoice if necessary.”

“Unless she’s giving me your phone number I’m staying.” 

Freddie glared at the man. 

“What? Pi-21’s technology is famously unreliable as fuck. What if you suddenly need a dashing hero to help you?” 

Freddie glared harder.

“I told you that I wanted to keep hearing you; what makes you think you’ll get rid of me anytime soon?”

Unfortunately for Freddie, Rosita showed Miss Lloyd into the conference room at that exact moment and Freddie had to put on his public mask and shake hands with the woman. Lloyd excused Stenson for not coming. She said something about a last moment change of plans; she also said that her chief engineer was prone to last-minute impulses and ideas while sending a look at the technician by Freddie’s side. There was no polite way to get rid of the man in front of Lloyd, though, and the man knew it. So he rolled on with his presence and ignored Ms Lloyd’s look. She’d have to suffer his presence too.

Freddie would have said something scathing about Stenson’s absence, but his lips were sewn as long as there was a possibility of a deal on the horizon.

The presentation ended up being a disaster and it was the technician’s fault. He kept interrupting Freddie and addressing Ms Lloyd directly, to Freddie’s chagrin. Freddie couldn’t explain the man’s presence now and he couldn’t just throw him away in front of Ms Lloyd. His comments were on point, but Miss Lloyd wouldn’t appreciate that someone that Freddie had not even introduced interrupted like that. Also, Freddie had prepared the presentation with Stenson in mind, he didn’t know as much about the discrete CEO.

A complete disaster.

Ms Lloyd left the room an hour later to speak with Rupert and as soon as the door closed behind her, Freddie collapsed on one of the rolling chairs. The technician was giggling like Freddie’s career wasn’t crumbling before his eyes.

“That was brilliant!”

“No it wasn’t. You were interrupting!”

“I assure you she won’t mind, she is used to much worse.” And as an afterthought he added, “probably.”

“Even if that is true, I don’t think Rupert will see it your way.”

Freddie wallowed a bit more in his misery before the technician derailed his train of thought.

“If Stenson had known what kind of presentation you had in your hands, he wouldn’t have missed it for the world.”

“I guess we will never know.”

“Hey! I’m telling you! I’m sure!”

Freddie huffed sarcastically, but the technician was having none of it. “How come you know about a small project of Stenson but you ignore the most basic things that everybody knows about him?” He had an elbow planted on the table and his teasing tone was both baffled and soft at the same time. 

“When I started to investigate I didn’t know he was a celebrity. When I realized he was, I did everything in my power to avoid yellow-press literature. It’s just too unreliable, and it would poison my own vision.” Freddie was defensive over his choices. “I think that reading his papers is enough. Don’t you think?”

“You have read his papers?” His eyebrows lifted briefly. 

“And patents. Of course.”

“But most of his patents have nothing to do with clean energy, why would you read those too?”

“He is quite inventive; the material innovations were clean solutions. Masterpieces in a field that still managed to convey how his mind works. You can follow his thought process by-”

“Reverse engineering?” The technician ended his phrase. Freddie didn’t like how surprised he looked.

“I might come across as Rupert’s left hand, and the convenient scapegoat but I assure you that I’m more than the company’s tool.”

“I don’t know you,” the technician showed his hands conciliatory. “Maybe you should show me how much more you are.”

“Don’t play with me. It is not a good moment.” Freddie regarded the technician; he wouldn’t be trouble. “I planned today’s meeting with a high risk to my career, things are already terrible as they are.

“Why risk so much? You would have convinced The CEO of Pi-21 instead easily.”

“First, no matter what Intenur does, I only deal with the best and second… Well, I was looking forward to meeting him in person.”

“Why?”

“That is not your concern.” Freddie knew he had said the wrong thing, because now this man’s interest was piqued. 

“Awww, how cute, you have a crush on him!”

“What? No! I don’t know him!”

“Yes you do, why would you bother otherwise?”

Freddie was done with that conversation, but he was starting to remember that this technician was supposed to be a client who was owed an apology for getting dragged into this whole mess, so he ended up answering in defeat. 

“His research into AIs. There is speculation about him having made great leaps, but he covers it with zeal. It’s been years since he last published on the subject and I think it is because he made something spectacular.”

“His AIs... You are a nerd, aren’t you?” The technician-maybe-still-client laughed. “Why would you want to know about that and not his super-amazing robotics sowcase?”

“Because… Well, I have a couple of AIs myself, and as I developed them beyond what we currently know about AIs... I understood that I would never expose them to the public, no matter the sum offered. You wouldn’t understand, it is a strange connection with something that you’ve created that sounds… ridiculous. A program…” Freddie shrugged. “Tim says it is unhealthy, being attached to a few lines of code. But I found that I want the best for them and to make sure they cause no harm either.” He turned to watch the man warily. “And you won’t make me feel ashamed of it.”

“Perish the thought.” 

“Any joke about cyberphilia and I’ll make sure nobody finds your body.”

Freddie could see the alternative joke forming in the technician’s mind, but before he could brace himself, the communication system came to life and Rupert’s voice filled the room.

“Freddie, Ms Lloyd has left the building without a closed agreement. Your plan has failed! and the company will suffer for it!”

“Maybe if Tim’s presentation hadn’t been so bland, Ms Lloyd would have been more interested in that agreement.”

“Your brother’s proposal was bland because you let him down, to do your own thing, like you always do. I hope you are proud of yourself! I should have known that you would make this deal a failure. Do you know how much time I put into this? Time I don’t have, Freddie! Time I can’t waste if you can’t even make Stenson come to listen to us.”

“You can’t blame me for that too. He is the one who decided not to come.”

“I warned you, my son. That little man isn’t worth a single minute of our time. Now, you will make sure this has been your last failure, you will forget about this venture or, as much as it pains me to say this, you will leave the company.”

Freddie’s blood went cold. His whole world darkened around the corners, all of him was focused on that speaker. Leave the company?

“Sir, negotiations have only started; it was almost six months until we convinced Vanestia co. to sell the company. We could still strike a deal with Stenson Industries in that time.” Freddie tried to hide how much it hurt him to think of giving up on this opportunity.

“No, son.”

The communication system died and Freddie held his breath. Rupert had never been so direct, he always insinuated and implied that Freddie was a waste of time and space that should only help to make Tim climb higher, but he was never this blunt. Rupert knew how to make Freddie stay by the company’s side and Freddie tried to earn the same respect as his brother, well, his not-blood-brother, as Freddie had discovered during the last project. His efforts had been less and less effective since the winter affair.

Of course, Freddie had suspected that Rupert favored Tim; it was plain to see, but Freddie had expected to overcome that favoritism with hard work or trickery. Apparently nothing was enough, nothing would ever be enough. What was the sense in trying anymore? Freddie should give up, leave Intenur definitely before being pushed out. But what would he do? He had worked there his whole life; there was nothing he could do now. Other companies hated Freddie because he had inconvenienced them in favor of Intenur. There was nothing to do.  No solution. Nothing.

“Hey, ravenlocks? Someone home?” Freddie looked up to the Technician. Freddie had been still looking at the loudspeaker for a few seconds after it disconnected. Without the man’s interruption, he would have kept falling for a long time, he was sure of it. “After that, you look like you need a drink.”

“I won’t have a career by tomorrow morning. I think I need more than a drink.”

“You need to stop thinking before you give yourself an aneurysm, pretty thing, and I know just the place.”

Freddie wouldn’t be needed anymore that day. Maybe ever, if Rupert was to be believed. Freddie could just… Let go. There was a chance that Rupert would want him to be there, but if Freddie only did what Rupert told him, he’d stay put quietly in a closet until the old man had use for him. Therefore, and to spite Rupert if he actually called, he sneaked out of the building with the technician, who still avoided saying his name claiming that Freddie had had his moment to ask and that the moment was gone. 

Freddie wanted… Freddie didn’t know what he wanted now, but he was on the verge of wanting to find a cliff, which was probably bad for his continued existence. Being alone now would be his worst decision to date, so he let himself be dragged away. The technician made inappropriate jokes and kept the self-destructive feelings at bay, so Freddie decided to cling to the man until he felt better or until he found something better to cling to.

They drove through New York like a pair of clueless tourists and they hit all the bars in what Freddie had named ‘A list of the most outrageous places’. It seemed like the technician knew his way around a good number of holes in the wall.

Once there was enough alcohol intaken, Freddie answered the Technician’s questions very easily. He had always been quite private about the family part of the business, and he had never spoken badly of it, but nothing had been the same after the winter collapse. The company had lost his respect; the family had lost his respect. And today Freddie’s career had crumbled down; sometime after the sixth drink he had realized that he didn’t really have any career to speak of. All his skill set was built around making Intenur work. He didn’t have a job description; he embodied all the spare parts of the well-tuned machine of Intenur. He was… a puppet, even though he was the spine of the company… the spine of the machine… maybe he should stop mixing metaphors, or drinks, maybe he should stop mixing drinks.

In between realizations, Freddie had decided that there was nothing to lose if he talked with the technician. He wouldn’t get into more trouble and he would finally get it off his chest, even if the man didn’t believe him, so he told the cheerful and rather handsome mysterious man about the project Rupert had in the works to create energy out of cold.

The man had laughed loudly enough to startle the other tables and the sound had pleased a petty and vindictive part of Freddie.

It was a senseless monstrosity called Productive Winters; a stupidity, of course, anyone with basic knowledge of thermodynamics would know it: it was a ruse to keep some clueless, idiot, brain-dead shareholders interested, but Freddie’s brother had wanted to put it into practice. Tim had been in charge of the company while Rupert was recovering from an eye operation in some spiritual retreat center. One of the mildly intelligent shareholders, Mr Ludwig, had suspected that the whole thing was a huge lie and Tim didn’t take kindly to being called a liar.

Freddie had been in charge of damage control. Mr Ludwig had been dealt with, but the problem was far from over. Both Rupertsons fought over the path to take and Freddie destroyed the project behind Tim’s back so it would never see the light of day and uncover Intenur as scammers or worse: idiots. In doing that, Freddie broke the shareholder’s trust and when Rupert found out, he ordered the PR department to make Freddie into the jealous villain who wanted more power in the company, to save face.

In that click-bait story that Rupert’s PR department fed to the newspapers, Tim was the magnanimous, kind brother who took Freddie in back again despite his ‘treason’. The story was heartwarming enough to save Intenur in the stock market and there was everybody’s happy ending. Freddie had been willing to sacrifice his public image to save the company, but he had never realized how much of himself he was giving away. Now he saw it as it was: a cage of his own making.

Intenur was the place where Freddie could live until he retired if only he submitted to Rupert’s rule. Only now, after decades of loyalty and sacrifice, did Freddie realize that he was considered chaotic and a liar in the larger world of business. Freddie had been pleased to take the burn of any problem in the company; it was not as if he would ever need to have references outside of Intenur. But now he had nowhere to go. He had built his own golden cage one bar at a time and Rupert had provided the tools all too happily.

His only chance of staying away from this was his mother. He could still try to find her wherever she had escaped from Rupert and beg forgiveness. She would receive him with open arms, but after years of defending his father and brother, Freddie couldn’t bring himself to concede defeat, the shame was too great.

The lack of flavor in his latest drink made Freddie realize that he had a bottle of water in his hand and that he had been complaining out loud. The technician was still next to him; he had two untouched colorful glasses in front of him and a boozed smirk. It took Freddie’s alcohol-filled brain a few seconds to realize that the man must have been the one to change the glass for the bottle of water, but the reason eluded Freddie. 

The feeling must have shown on his face.

“Believe me, you will hate yourself tomorrow enough as it is. You don’t want to worsen your prospective hangover.”

Freddie took another sip of the bottle. They were in a nook away from prying looks. It was comfortable. He wasn’t sure of what he had said and what he had only thought, but the technician had a strange, mellow look, so the silent part had probably been very small. Freddie prided himself in knowing facial expressions, but he didn’t know enough about the man, and he couldn’t concentrate on his face beyond the basic features.

“Why don’t you try to work abroad, my emo friend?”

The technician had slipped an arm around his shoulders. Freddie didn’t even care when; he was very very focused on the face in front of him. He was going to read that face, he knew he could if he tried enough.

“It is not the job, it is me. If they don’t fire me, I’m leaving tomorrow.” He sighed. It had always been him, hadn’t it?

“From where I stand, it is them.”

“You don’t understand.”

“I do! I do I do! Who do you think sinks the market points in my company?” The technician seemed to be quite drunk too, he wouldn’t have shared anything personal otherwise. Freddie was watching the corner of his lips; there was a tell when people lied… or was that the corner of the eyes? It didn’t matter, because Freddie kept getting distracted with the rest of the lips. “A company I didn’t ask for, too! A goddamned company that has almost killed me more times than I care to count.”

“Yes, Intenur is killing me slowly too.”

“And all because I had to carry on some kind of legacy, stepping on the heads of giants or something like that. It is what my father used to say to the ladies when my mother wasn’t around.”

“Wait, you have a company,” Freddie said unwisely. “And it was your father’s.”

“Ok, story time. My father built the company…” The man slumped against his seat. “No, I don’t think I’m up for story time.”

“What?” Freddie realized that he had scooted closer, to listen. Not because the warmth was nice and distracting. “You must tell me something, I told you a lot of things, now you owe me.”

“Since when are stories currency?”

“Since I want them, and you want me to stay, so I will have my stories.” Freddie hung his head back, supported by the nook’s headrest and closed his eyes. He opened one of them in what he hoped was a discrete move. He was not sure he was being successful. The man had that drunken smirk and his eyes half-lidded, as if Freddie’s gesture had made him sleepy in turn.  

“Spoiled brat. Have it your way.”

The man said something about a company, a step-father? a story that seemed made to fit an action script, and Freddie was not sure why he kept mentioning the son of Sten. Freddie didn’t know, and only half of it could be blamed on the soft buzz in his head; the bastard was being cagey on purpose. He had the feeling that something in his brain was demanding he pay attention. He knew that story b- What if he is a corporate spy? The thought had already crossed his mind a hundred times during the day when he decided to let the man help with the presentation. He had ruled it out because… because of logic at the time. Logic that was not currently accessible.

Even though he didn’t know exactly what the man was talking about, he got the feeling that he was sad and Freddie had something to do with it. Oh! He was telling Freddie something sad about his company, or his family, or both, because Freddie had made him sad too.

“Hmm. I had planned to celebrate with you, not this.” Freddie most definitely didn’t whine.

“Don’t look at me! I’m the party king! I’m never a sad drunk! It is all your faul-hmpfmm.”

Freddie only knew that he had finally seen the sadness behind the smiling lips, and he had decided that he didn’t like it. The man was sad, he was also sad and they could make each other less sad, so the only answer to that was a kiss, obviously. Obviously? Huh. There was something about two negatives floating in his head, but logic was still not available.

For a delightful moment he wasn’t thinking about anything but the sensation of the other man’s lips against his, the sweetness of his latest drink, the tickling of his beard… He plunged deeper into not thinking when the technician responded by pressing and holding his neck first with one hand, but then he moved to sit on his lap and cradled his nape. Nothing mattered now, especially not when he sneaked an arm around his waist and pulled them closer together.

The water bottle and the time listening to the man had helped to clear his head moderately, so his brain had enough presence to kick in when he felt the man’s hand pushing him away. He let it happen, not without regret. The technician looked regretful too; he was breathing deeply as if he could get rid of the desire in his chest that way.

“Look, let’s stop here. Because tomorrow this will be very… interesting, but if we end up in my room…”

“Mmno,” Freddie protested and hid his face in the other’s neck. He felt the jawbone and cheek against him pressing back. “If I don’t work there, you can go back to being the client tomorrow and this would mean nothing.”

The hand that had been on his neck was still over there playing with his hair. “I’m not going back either. I shouldn’t make decisions right now, but I’m thinking of poaching one of their workers and be done with them.”

Freddie’s smile couldn’t be seen from his position, but it was audible. “You are lucky I don’t work there anymore, or I would have destroyed you for saying that.”

“You still work there.” 

“Not mentally, no.” 

“You made up your mind, then?”

“I don’t know what I’m going to do, but whatever I do, it’s going to be easier to decide if I don’t go back to Intenur. Beyond that… No idea.” 

“I know exactly what you are going to do.”

Freddie emerged from his hiding spot, regretting not being able to kiss that neck. “You think so?”

The man climbed off of Freddie’s lap, but he didn’t back away from his personal space. 

“Go to sleep.” He leaned on the backrest, trapping Freddie’s arm. But Freddie didn’t mind keeping it around the tech’s waist. “And once you have slept the hangover away, you are going to call me.”

“You are very sure of yourself.”

“You would be too if you were in my place.”

“If I were in your place I wouldn’t have stopped this.”

“Yes, you would.” The tech called the waiter over and asked for a pen, then leaned against Freddie’s chest for balance and took to writing on his white shirt, left side, close to the collar.

“Are you going to pay for this when I take it to the cleaners?

“I’ll be happy to, because you’d have to call me for that. And you’d have to use this number.”

After a few numbers Freddie was not ready to guess by feeling alone, the man paused for a moment, squinted while looking at Freddie’s face and went back to his task, but higher, closer to his neck.

The silence while he wrote was meditative. Freddie could still draw circles with his thumb on the man’s hip and he still squirmed very sweetly.

“Maybe I could leave the country, as you said,” Freddie wondered aloud.

“Call me first,” the man mumbled while capping the pen. He waved over the same waiter, gave back the pen and paid before Freddie could protest.

“Maybe I could start my own company,” Freddie kept daydreaming.  

“Call me first,” the man insisted. He got close to Freddie’s ear. “We have much to talk about.”

Freddie woke up only a few hours later with his mobile in his hand. First, an alarm. He dismissed it. Then there was a 5% battery warning in red. He dismissed it. When the warning closed, he squinted at a perfectly composed e-mail, addressed at Rupert, cc’d at Tim, where he told them that he was leaving Intenur in not the politest terms. It was unsent. 

He thanked his luck and the version of himself that had been too tired or too out of it to send the mail (but not too tired to spell asinine). He would have hated waking up only to see that email marked as sent. 

He pressed send. 

It was much more satisfying to do it when he was going to keep the memory of doing it intact. 

He found the charger cord that he had failed to use the previous night. The phone died just before he could plug it in, but it was better that way anyway. He had no desire to dodge family calls for hours. 

He turned to leave the mobile on the nightstand and he hugged his pillow, ready for some lazy extra rest now that he didn’t have a job to go back to. 

Before tiredness could do him in, his eyes fell on the shirt that he had taken off the previous night and had discarded on the floor by the bed. It was no longer prim and proper, and from where he was, he could see a few numbers, written just an inch below the collar. The memory of the last night and the technician brought a smile to his face that was almost enough to wake him up all the way. 

He stretched one foot to drag the shirt from the floor, grab it and memorize the number, or maybe write it down somewhere, but once he had the fabric in his hands, he noticed that over the phone number, under the shirt’s collar, there was more. He could see a “R”. Finally, a name! He flipped the collar up. 

“Ryan Stenson xxx”

He threw the shirt across the room and rolled the other way, groaning into his pillow.

#limited edition

[officialbabayaga]

heyyy i saw your tags on the college post about taking seven years to finish undergrad and i was wondering if you could talk about how you got from there to law school? i’m still struggling to finish my last year of undergrad and as someone who’s always conceptualized myself as academically successful and has watched all my friends do this seemingly with ease it’s been a rough time, and i’ve been worried i won’t be able to get into grad schools given that i’m gonna graduate in more than four years. anyway if this isn’t something you want to talk about that is so valid and know that just by mentioning it i’m feeling less alone so thank you!

Oh no worries I’m happy to talk about it! I feel like “nontraditional” academic journeys are never really acknowledged enough, to be honest. What I want you to know right from the start is that I got really lucky with the opportunities that I was given, but I also put the work in to follow through.

I’ll skim over the gory details but I did… terribly in undergrad. It wasn’t because I couldn’t intellectually keep up with my classes, mental illness was eating my brain and I just couldn’t function at the level I needed to. BUT I finally graduated with a 2.7 GPA, and was lucky enough to have made a good enough impression at a summer internship that they hired me full time immediately after I graduated. That was a HUGE hurdle, especially because my bachelor’s is in biology, and jobs with a bio degree but no graduate school are really hard to come by.

Now what helped me the most was that I “paid my dues.” I worked my way up from a research assistant to, eventually, a senior research associate after 4 years of incredibly hard work. Even though my undergrad transcript was a pile of shit, I showed through my career that I could do really good work. I did overtime and took on extra projects so I could get my research published and I did everything I could to go to conferences and (unfortunately) network as much as possible.

(digression - my favorite professor once said that networking seems pointless at the time, because you’re not going to see the payoff for another 5 years. that helped put it in perspective for me. basically my networking tips are to just be NICE and HELPFUL when you meet people, especially in a professional context but literally if you just live your life that way and actually talk to people at boring events you’re basically good to go)

graduate schools don’t only take your undergraduate performance into account. Even with my shitty grades, I had put the work in for 4 years at a job that allowed me to really expand my CV. this was a lot of effort, but it was also a LOT of luck. it’s hard to find jobs that actually allow you to move up the ladder but it’s so worth it when you find one. even if it seems thankless and awful at the time, DON’T just give up and settle somewhere that will never promote you or give you opportunities to progress. show through a few years after undergrad that you can work hard and succeed, even if it was professionally and not academically.

Also, since I knew my grades sucked, I wanted to tip the scales even more in my favor. For about 4 months I spent every weekend slamming a vietnamese iced coffee to simulate a panic attack and take khan academy full lsat practice tests. This may not be an advisable way to study, but I have an anxiety disorder and I knew I’d be a fucking mess for the actual test so I made myself get used to it before it actually happened.

a killer admissions essay and really good letters of recommendation are so helpful, too. I didn’t have any professors I could ask for letters, so I got my lab director and the ceo of the company I worked for to write two for me, because we were on really good terms.

and I think that’s about it? it was a big mix of luck and hard work, and for me, the end result was getting accepted to law school 5 days after i applied :) but i was rejected from one school and waitlisted for another so it’s important to remember that the places you’re applying to could have extremely different criteria for what they’re looking for in students.

I wish you the best of luck!! It can be so tough but if you haven’t shown your best work in undergrad, you’re never out of chances to prove that you’ve grown enough to get back into academia. also in my experience, generally, law students who have real-world job experience do better than the ones who are coming straight from undergrad! because it IS a job, and learning professionalism and self-direction before getting into it makes a whole lot of difference.

#this is not a post about how academia is NOT for everyone and there 100% isn’t a problem with that #and there are TONS OF ISSUES WITHIN!!! #but this isn’t that post #also idk about other programs but the average age of law students is 30. most people are NOT going straight from graduation. #i hope this helped! sorry if it didn’t #zoe stuff

[at-thezenith]

Fun Facts About Me (Tag Game)

@mrbexwrites thank u for tagging me! here is her post

passing the tag to: @vcaudley @jay-avian @keysandopenmind @coffeeandcalligraphy @skyderman

A Scent You Love:

jasmine. perfume, candles, diffusers, anything. i <3 her

What's Something You're Looking Forward To This Week?

two things! my friend is taking part in a charity boxing match and while i'm a little concerned for her wellbeing i think it'll be even funnier watching her in the ring

me and a group of friends are going to an event this week and i'm just looking forward to drinking and dancing a lot :)

What's A Book You're Currently Reading?

oh dear. i have not been reading much at all since my degree started, but i am going to go back to minor detail by adania shibli

What's A Game You're Currently Playing?

does dungeons and dragons count? bc that's what i've been playing regularly. my character is a grouchy dwarf monk called brokhilde who is the worst person to call on to solve a murder. but she is also the only melee character the party has. all brawn no brain.

What's The Most Recent Movie You Watched?

i watched the ballad of songbirds and snakes on saturday and HIGHLY recommend. it fucked.

Are You Watching Anything On TV Or Listening To Any Shows?

listening to the off menu podcast as always, but i'm supposed to be watching good omens season 2 and have not got past episode 3 because aforementioned degree is kicking my arse

Favourite Season?

AUTUMN. my beloved, my true north. i love putting on funky little outfits and not being boiling, and also not having to wrap myself in a giant puffer coat. something about autumn walks where you get a little cold and have to stop for a coffee is just <333

What's Something You've Learned Recently?

hmmm i learned how to use indesign!! barely. i could not teach anyone how to do it for the life of me, but that will not stop me putting it on my cv.

Have You Had Any Water Lately?

yes because i am but a very dramatic houseplant, in that if i don't drink 2litres of water a day i WILL wilt and perish.

#tag games #other #queuecumbered

[cursedvibes]

Sorry I have to rant, I just saw post on reddit about how Gege hates his main trio and has completely destroyed them(I'm paraphrasing) and I get it everyone has their own opinions and they can complain etc etc but the whole thing was so dumb!😭 Literally stupid reasons only because they have made so many assumptions about how the story would/should go. These last two chapters have caused such a mayhem in the fandom. People are impatient, quick to make predictions, and get upset when they things don't happen their way. And that's one thing I really don't understand and absolutely hate, how fans of a media think that they know how the story should go better than the creator itself, especially if it's something like a manga which is released on a chapter by chapter basis. Only two chapters have been out! There is more to come! Don't be hasty to judge and please have some patience! Hell! even the shippers are mad I don't know if you ship fushiita, sukuita or sukufushi but it's really chaotic right now. Fans seem to think Yuuji's only purpose was being a vessel(which is a pretty gross way to think about him in my opinion) and now he's useless. Btw thanks for the earlier ask you answered about this because I was also upset about it but that had more to do with 'megumi is the perfect vessel actually' and not Sukuna being separated from Yuuji, anyway you really helped me deal and understand it. Thank you for that! Your blog feels like a safe haven for Yuuji and Kenjaku fans. They're both so underrated and completely overshadowed by other flashier characters (megumi, Yuuta and getou respectively) I cannot tell you how happy I was that I've found like-minded people like you. They're both my faves and I feel so sad that they're ignored by most of the fandom especially Kenny who's only misfortune is being in gojou's ex's ex body.

Well, I got completely derailed and this is more of a rambling than a vent. Sorry for sending such a long ask😅. Thank you for being a part of this fandom. Also, you are very funny even your tags are so hilarious, they make my day. Keep up the good work! And have a good morning/night!

Thank you for the nice words! Funny on the internet and having correct takes on fictional characters, such high praise 😌 I'm gonna add it to my CV

It is quite a shame that Kenjaku is so unpopular. Honestly don't know why? They have the looks, the smarts, the connection to the main character (although somehow that often gets overlooked beyond the milf jokes), they drive the entire plot and have an entertaining personality. But most of the time people don't even notice that. They're just Geto 2.0.... Or a grumpy conservative old man. No idea where that characterization came from or why it's so prevalent, but especially in fanfics I see it a lot.

Yuuji is very popular, but he's often turned into Pink Naruto, despite them being very different besides some standard shonen tropes. Naruto without Kurama is unthinkable (well until Boruto happened, but that was after Naruto's main development was already over), so the same must apply to Yuuji, right? If Yuuji doesn't have Sukuna, what's the point?

Also, I don't know what it is with this fandom and going off the rails every break week. Like clockwork the "Yuuta is the real mc because he stronk and his laser beam go pew" take comes back every time and people make up the wildest stuff. I'm surprised by how many genuinely think Yuuji is dead dead. Done. Story over I guess. Megumi hasn't gotten any points, so that's clearly not the case yet. If not, he obviously has to throw around some Infinity-level technique to "prove" he's the mc. They also already see Hana at the bottom of Megumi-Sukuna's stomach I guess and/or Yuuji as Angel's new host. Somehow...how would she even get to him so fast? And sure, switch one manipulative 1000 yo sorcerer for another...what a fun and unique concept. At this point I'm more looking forward to the next leaks because it will give people something meaningful to talk about than the story (not true, I really want to know what happens next, but these takes are very annoying).

I haven't heard that Gege hates the main trio before, but I certainly see it paraded around a lot in regards to Yuuji, even though Gege clearly says in the fanbook that that comment was simply about how he is hard to write and they want to make sure to do him justice. Of course an author can get a bit exasperated, but that doesn't mean they hate the character. If that was the case, Gege wouldn't put this much thought into Yuuji.

In regards to the trio, with how jjk works and everything that's been happening, there was no way they would stay together (assuming that's what people take issue with). It's basically a tradition. Sashisu, Nanami & Haibara, Maki's group, the Kyoto gang, they all got separated, some even died. Honestly, it would be pretty unrealistic for the Tokyo trio to stay together. And as you said, things just started to pick up, much can happen. Megumi is probably gonna resurface for at least a little bit before he dies - or not who knows. Nobara's situation is a bit iffy, but she was never as important as Megumi or Maki so eh. If she comes back, I need her to be properly integrated into the story. She has no connection to the current plot, any of the main villains or adds to the lore. Her coming back with some new strong technique would be nice, but what's her function gonna be besides moral support for Yuuji and killing some less important enemies? So far I don't feel like she needs to come back for parts of the plot to progress. If she doesn't, it wouldn't be a huge loss. Therefore, if it happens, I need some character exploration for her. I still think it would be neat if her grandma somehow shows up and does...idk something, but she sounds awesome (knew from the start not to trust Jujutsu Tech, best woman) I want to know more about her.

I don't really ship any combination of Yuuji-Sukuna-Megumi, so I don't know what happened on their side. Fanartists have put out some very dramatic, traumatic and bloody ItaFushi art recently, which I appreciate, but that's all I know. After ch 212 I got the impression shippers liked the new development for the angst. Didn't know that changed, but I'm really not that in touch with that side of the fandom. Either way, Yuuji not being a vessel anymore sounds more like it would be beneficial for them (separate bodies and all) unless you're really into the possession trope.

#asks #don't worry about the rambling sometimes fandom drives me crazy too

[beardyboyzx]

2022 in writing

I was tagged by the wonderful @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed to look back on this past year of writing. 2022 saw me coming back to writing after a two-years pause, and exploring a new fandom. Let's see how it went ^^

Number of stories posted to AO3: 7

Word count posted for the year: 36373

Fandoms I wrote for: One Direction

Pairings: Louis/Harry, Liam/Zayn, Liam&Louis

Story with the most: Kudos: Gray hair is our forever (110) Bookmarks: Gray hair is our forever (35) Comment threads: Twenty-Eight (9)

Work I’m most proud of (and why): If It Makes You Feel Alive (It's Alright) - it's just something that I didn't think I could write at this point in this language. I worked on it for almost two weeks, I put a lot of myself in it and... I just love that Liam so much

Work I’m least proud of (and why): If You Only Knew - I let my excitement to write for a new fandom get the best of me. I still thought I could try to write something in both Italian and English, so the English in that is not it. I'll come back to it, and rewrite that first chapter sooner or later.

Share or describe a favorite review you received: Being told that IIMYFA captured the bisexual experience well was... I was so nervous about it, I kept thinking I was messing everything up. It made me feel like I didn't just waste those two weeks. (And also, Mia telling me it made her cry. Something I'll put in my CV.)

A time when writing was really, really hard: Ever since I've started writing again back in April (or was it March?), it was like I didn't know how to. These last three months were the worst.

A scene or character you wrote that surprised you: Definitely Louis in Twenty-Eight. He wasn't supposed to be that way. But I loved going along with it.

A favorite excerpt of your writing: 

I'm bisexual. I'm bisexual. Bisexual. Bi. 

Bi bi baby. 

He shook his head, amused. 

I'm bisexual and I want… 

He swallowed, feeling something massive drop into his stomach. The fear was real. Telling himself what he wanted was way more difficult than telling himself what he was.

I'm bisexual and I like… 

He took a deep breath, feeling Louis' comforting stare on him. 

… Zayn. 

The word made a strange warmth spread all over his chest. He felt elated and relieved as he whispered to himself, "Zayn," not even caring about Louis watching him. He was too lost in the freedom he felt at telling himself what he actually wanted for the very first time. 

Liam had never felt like that before. Never that high on that simple knowledge. 

Never could he have thought that such a simple sentence could bring him such a unique sense of freedom that was able to make him feel both flying high in the sky and having his feet steadily planted on the soil at the same time. 

"I like Zayn," Liam murmured, not feeling sure enough to yell it, letting that be loud enough to be heard only by himself. A thought struck by his head, and Liam giggled, raising his head to look at Louis. 

"Tommo. I'm in love with Justin Timberlake."

12. How do you hope to grow next year? I hope to grow more confident in my writing skills, and I hope to be able to write daily (maybe give myself a little daily goal -- 200 words/day -- something that I can keep up with) and go back to the writing routine I had until 2 years ago. I also want to challenge myself more!

13. Who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer, beta, cheerleader, muse, etc): @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed, definitely. Meeting her this year made my comeback to writing more awesome. Reading her writing makes me want to get better 💕 @chai-hat-tea reminded me how starting to write felt, and made me want to get back to that excitement. Her constant support is priceless❤️ Then, my fellow writers at @writerscornercafe that made me feel less alone in a fandom that is practically a galaxy, and sprinted with me, cheered me on. I needed a safe space, and I got it with them 💕

14. Anything from your real life show up in your writing this year: Definitely IIMYFA Liam. I was him, he was me. Well, a part of him was me.

15. Any new wisdom you can share with other writers: Never ever let writing become a chore for you. Always remember to have fun while doing it.

16. Any projects you’re looking forward to starting (or finishing) in the new year: Definitely my @onedirectionbigbang fic! I'm hoping to finish my kid!fic and write that femslash I have in mind.

17. Tag some writers whose answers you’d like to read. I'm tagging @chai-hat-tea, @wabadabadaba, @larrieblr, and @panye!

#2022 in writing