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kazanoic · 3 days

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Hello! How about a fic where Jiyan falls in love with a courtesan and decides to buy her out of the brothel? Like in the red light district, where girls (or guys) ended up because of debts.

DREAMS OF THE CAGED. jiyan / gn.reader

-> a toast to a better future

tw: anything to do with brothels (nothing suggestive or explicit however.)

wc: 1.6k

a/n: shh you never saw me struggling with romance, of course not. this took everything out of me to finish, and as always, I don't know batshit about brothels and how they function.

From the moment you learned to think, you knew almost instantly that you would be burdened with the ever-so-increasing debt your parents will put on you. You never blamed them for gambling, for being addicts— because every decision they make; be it stupid or not makes perfect sense to them at that time… but one thing you will never understand is why they needed to so badly have you. You will never understand why they didn’t just die in debt and end their overflowing legacy of liabilities. You will never understand why you’re born into this world, and you blame them for it every second of your goddamn life.

When the familiar piercing ray of light catches your eyes, you remember your place in this overwhelming sea of madness; a lowly courtesan who serves the scums of the earth. You don’t know whether to thank your “agents” for deeming you attractive enough to appease those of a higher status, because frankly rich or poor, they are all the same. Insufferable.

You walk out of your room, ignoring the obscene sounds that echoes throughout the halls. As you attempt to leave the brothel, a co-worker catches you.

“Break?”

“Yeah, I'll be back in an hour.”

“I’ll call you back if there’s a client coming on short notice,” the brothel-keeper pipes in.

“Madame, please don’t,” you chuckle.

“Hold up, I’ll go on break with you, I have 15 minutes!” That same coworker spoke, walking quickly to your side.

As you trudged through the red neons of the district, the both of you started to talk— the sound of conversation and laughter slowly fills the air as you talked about your dreams; to live a life free of worries— to exist far far away from the harsh turbulences of life, and to enjoy the simple act of just existing.

“As a kid, I wanted to be a farmer."

“No way? Are you being serious?”

“Yeah, doesn't it sound pretty great?”

“It actually does seem pretty nice.”

But no matter how much one wished, or hoped, or begged– at the end of the day wishes are just merely wishes. It doesn't matter whether you wished upon a shooting star or the your bedroom ceiling, wishes are simply just a strong desire for things that are unattainable. So Instead of longingly looking at stars in the night sky, counting how much money you needed to have your debt repaid, and to live a long fulfilling life, you decided that you just had to suck it up.

‘Ah! My 15 minutes is up, I have to get back to the brothel! See ya,” your coworker waved before swiftly making their way back into the brothel.

You wish them good luck before continuing on your mindless journey, relishing in your short lived break before a tuft of fur catches your eyes. You smiled before quickly walking up to the feline, “Miao Mao, did you get fatter?” You squat to get a closer look, keeping your hands to your knees so as to not taint your fingers with their “filth”. Having enough fun, you got up as graciously as you possibly could so as to not taint your image with such inelegance. As soon as you got up, you made eye contact with a stranger, and you couldn't help but stare just a little longer than you should've.

‘Madame's client?’ You deduce. Your time here was more than enough for you to more or less pinpoint the types of people seeking for pleasure and those seeking for an informant. He was obviously seeking for the latter– there was an air of hesitancy and slight discomfort around him; that alone was apparent enough to you. He might not be madame's client, but his hanfu and appearance told you otherwise. Madame's service is the most pricey and yet the most accurate one in the entire district; it'd be frankly stupid, if he didn't go to her for whatever intel he seeks.

You contemplated for a bit if you should approach the confused man yourself, but that thought was cut short as the man walked towards you. “Hello. I am looking for…” He paused for a second, seemingly as a cover for his embarrassment, “Mei Mei Brothel… do you know where it is?” He muttered as quietly as he could while still making sure you could listen so he wouldn't have to repeat himself. You laughed at his demeanor before opening your mouth, “well aren't you adorable? I'm on my way there, shall we go together?” He nodded silently before walking beside you, matching your pace just right.

“Are you a…” He tried striking up a conversation.

“Yeah. I'm a courtesan there,” you reply.

“I see,” he thought a little more, half hoping to continue the conversation but promptly walked by your side in silence to prevent you from saying anything you didn't want to.

“I've been working here since I was 14, so I'm quite familiar with this place. If you ever need a place to eat or whatever, you know where to go,” you use your head to point at the neon billboard of the brothel you worked at.

You walked in the brothel, the familiar sweet scent obliterates your nose– the man scrunched his nose ever so slightly as he followed you in.

“Is Madame here? There's a client waiting for her,” You spoke to the receptionist.

“Madame's still with a client, she'll be done in a few minutes,” the receptionist looked at you before averting her eyes to Madame's client. “While waiting, do choose a courtesan. It will be free of charge,” the receptionist hands him a book filled with all the courtesans working in the brothel. He opened the book to scan for you. When he found you, he looked at the receptionist and said your name.

You heard your name escape his lips and you froze. ‘do I… have to walk back…’ Before letting you decide, the receptionist beckons you over, knowing you wouldn't have arrived at your room yet.

“Let’s go, shall we?”

“Yes.”

You occasionally glanced at his monotonous expression, hoping it’d crack just a bit under the sounds that echoed throughout the halls.

“Since you now know my name, it is only fair that I have yours, no?”

“I apologize for not telling you sooner. My name is Jiyan.”

“…”

“Is there something wrong?”

“Of course not. I just didn’t quite expect you to be the general.”

“Do I look unfit to be one?”

You slid open the room, ushering him to sit on a cushion on the wooden floor.

“I think you’re too attractive to be one,” you laugh, “if i knew you were the general I should've treated you with more respect.”

“There really is no need for that. I’d like it better if you’d stay as you are.”

You turn on the lights, closing the door behind you with a soft click.

“I’ll keep that in mind, general.” He gives you a look, one which you return with a grin.

“Would you like some tea?” You ask in which he replies with a curt nod. You brew the tea wordlessly, slowly pouring it on a clean cup.

“Careful, it’s hot.”

“Thank you,” he smiles.

“I’m sorry I didn't recognise you sooner, we don’t get a lot of news here, so most of us don’t know what you look like— we heavily rely on word of mouth here. They’re plenty reliable.”

“I don't mind the slightest,” he says before picking up the cup, blowing it quietly; the steam floating slightly above the cup splits apart under his breath before reforming once more. The cycle repeats a few more times before he places his lips on the cup, taking a sip.

“It's good.”

“I'm glad you like it.”

“Do you usually drink tea?”

“If the guests would like me to do so, I would. Otherwise I do not,” you say truthfully.

Before Jiyan could respond, the door slid open, the long-awaited figure emerged at last.

“General, I sincerely apologize for the wait. My previous client was rather demanding.”

“I understand,” Jiyan replies. He finishes the remaining tea in his cup and stands. He looks at you, smiling, “thank you.”

“The pleasure is mine,” You return the smile.

“I'll see you again?” He asks, almost hesitant.

“You know where to find me.”

– x –

For what seems to be weeks, he'd come to meet the brothel keeper for his needed information; making sure to come a few minutes earlier so you could keep him company for the time being. But you don't realize when it all started to change– when his purpose shifted from getting information to meeting you.

Buying your time for hours on end not for the reasons one would go to a brothel, but just to exist with you– to live beside you for just a little bit every once in a while.

“You know this isn't what brothels are for, right? Brothel's aren't used to making friends, Jiyan,” you laugh as you joke.

“I don't want to be friends with you.”

“Brothel's aren't used for courting either, darlin’,” you smile half heartedly, looking at the man's frown, “it's not that I don't want to, princess. it's that it's written in my contract– unless you're willing to wait 5 years for my debts to settle.”

“Is there any other way?”

“Not one I've ever heard of.”

Unbeknownst to you, the day when Jiyan left your room, he approached the brothel keeper, beckoning her to give him a way to free you of the shackles you were forced upon. She told him that there was a way: to have him pay your debts. He agrees soundlessly, promising you the freedom you've always dreamt of.

So when you hear the news the next day, he stood waiting for you.

“Let's go, shall we?”

“You stole my damn line.”

“Are you upset?”

“Don't give me that face, sweetheart. I very well know your intentions.”

You walk towards him before pressing a kiss onto his lips.

#— the shell collection #wuthering waves #wuthering waves x reader #wuwa #wuwa x reader #wuthering waves x gender neutral reader #jiyan #jiyan wuthering waves #wuwa jiyan #jiyan x reader #jiyan x you #jiyan x gender neutral reader #x reader #x you

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erandri · 1 day

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Steve glances at his arm again, the fifth time in as many minutes, and is dismayed to see that the only thing written there is his own scrawling 'Hi'. It's not the most elegant way to introduce yourself to your soulmate but 'Do you prefer spring or summer weddings?' seemed like a bit much. His friends suggestions hadn't been much better, all of them younger than him and not able to communicate through their soul connection yet.

It had taken him weeks to muster up the courage to do it and still after an hour there was no response, but Steve wasn't going to let it get to him. His soulmate could live on the other side of the world and be asleep. Or maybe they just didn't know what to say. Or maybe they don't speak English.

Or maybe they were ignoring him.

There were a lot of people who ignored their connection, buying arm bands or getting tattoos to cover any writing from their soulmate. There was a small, but growing, movement of people who believed that the idea of soulmates was an antiquated idea. That some mysterious, cosmic link between two people should not automatically mean that they are the only ones for each other.

Steve had always been the opposite. When he was young and they were first learning about connection in school he had gone home and asked him mom question after question about soulmates. He loved the idea that somewhere out there in the world there was one person that would be perfect for him. He wants that, to have someone that he could know so intimately, to have someone he could share every part of himself with. Soulmates always seemed to happy together that even at his young age he envied their connection.

It seems that his soulmate doesn’t feel the same way. At the end of the day, after waiting seven hours and still no response from his soulmate, Steve washes the ink off of his arm.

---

It was another month before he dared to write to his soulmate again. He had thought about doing it dozens of times, making up reasons as to why his soulmate didn't reply last time and why they would have to respond this time, until finally he mustered up the courage to do it again.

Steve left the message on his arm for two days. Still, there was no response.

---

Despite the fact that his soulmate doesn't want to talk with him, it doesn't stop Steve from writing. It's just little things, like the fact that he made captain of the football team, or what movie he happened to be watching. Sometimes he just draws pictures of what he's looking at. There's never a response but by now he's accepted that there never will be. He still likes the possibility that somewhere out there in the world, his soulmate is reading what he writes.

---

A few days after his mother dies Steve can't stop writing. He writes a novel on his arm of everything that he can't say out loud. Memories of his mother, things that she used to say, how they don't seem like a family with her gone. He writes until his pen runs out of ink, until there's so much of it on him that it will take weeks for it all to wash off of his skin. When he's done he sits on his bedroom floor exhausted.

He's almost fallen asleep when there's a warmth on his arm, like the sun is shining on it even though it's past 9pm. The warmth disappears almost as soon as it starts and he immediately misses the sensation. When he looks down, for the first time there's writing on his arm that isn't his own. Scrawled messily in blue ink is 'I'm sorry' and for the first time since the funeral he cries for what’s he’s lost.

---

When he joins the Naval Academy they give him a standard issue arm band and tell him, as a security measure for both him and his soulmate, that he needs to cease all contact. That if he's in contact with his soulmate that this is his last chance to say goodbye because as soon as he walks out of the room he is officially a naval cadet.

He doesn't write anything.

---

Years go by and Steve almost forgets about his soulmate. The black sleeve around his arm becomes so familiar to him that he no longer sees it, just like he no longer sees the matching sleeves on the twenty-four men that he's stationed with. They're in the middle of the desert, sweating their ass off for weeks on end waiting for intelligence to come through on a terrorist cell hiding out in the mountains somewhere, and the only thing reminding him that the sleeve is there is the pesky sand that always seems to find a way underneath it.

He’s on the night watch, hunkered down behind a rock outcrop for cover and watching the moon slowly rise above the sand dunes. It’s nearing midnight and he’s waiting for Martinez to relieve him when he feels it. His arm feels warm under the band, like someone’s holding onto him and he knows that if he looks down he’ll see words appearing on his skin. He knows that it’s against regulation, but he’s all alone in the middle of the desert and the temptation is too much.

Slowly, he peels of the band, revealing pale skin and three words written in blue pen. He holds his arm in the moonlight and his stomach drops when he reads I’m getting married. He should have followed protocol.

He slides the band back into place, covering his skin once again, but the words feel like a brand on his arm. His soulmate is getting married. His stomach twists, an acidic feeling churning in him quickly before he tamps it down, shoves that feeling into a neat little box. He had assumed that whoever was on the other end of his soul connection didn’t want to be soulmates. That they were one of the ones who wanted to find a love connection regardless of the universe or some higher power had is mind. The idea still hurts though. The person that the universe selected as perfect for him doesn’t want him.

---

His fathers house is unnaturally quiet. It had never been a lively home, at least not since his mothers death, but to see if so utterly devoid of life feels wrong. the remains of the crime scene don’t do anything to help lighten the atmosphere. Still, he has a job to focus on and he can’t do anything mourning over the emptiness of his fathers- his- home. Every moment he wastes is another opportunity for Victor Hesse to get away.

He treats the house like he would any other op, detaching himself from the personal aspect of the case as he examines the spot where his father was shot. It’s easy to tell that Victor didn’t work alone, the foot print, the space for the laptop start to tell him what happened here before he got that phone call.

There’s no evidence of Victor going upstairs so the next place for him to inspect is the garage. It looks the same as it did the last time he was here. Cluttered, smelling of motor oil and must. His fathers old Marquis is still stored under the tarp, looking exactly the same as it did the last time Steve saw it. Then the toolbox catches his eye.

It looks innocuous, which is exactly what Steve would want if he were looking to hide something. When he sees the end of the label is destroyed, leaving just Champ, he knows that this is important. His father calling him Champ probably wasn’t enough to alert Hesse but it set off alarm bells in his head. Sure enough, it’s not just tools inside the toolbox. The photos and pieces inside don’t mean anything to him, another mystery for him to solve.

“Freeze,“ a voice calls out and Steve pulls his gun without thinking, turning to stare down a blond cop with a gun pointed at him.

---

There’s something about Danny that Steve can’t put his finger on. He’s only known him a couple of hours now but he can tell that Danny is a competent detective. He can also tell that Danny is a giant pain in the ass. Still, there’s something else there, something that Steve finds himself drawn to, and the more time that they spend together the more Danny feels like a puzzle that Steve wants to solve.

There’s the obvious things that Steve could find in Danny’s file. He’s a main-lander from New Jersey, he rose quickly through the ranks there until he became a detective, and then he moved to Hawaii where his career has been stagnating. Steve is not overly familiar with the inner workings of HPD, or any police department, but with Danny's record and accolades it seems like he should be doing more than babysitting cases the HPD could never solve.

Then there’s the less obvious things like his love for his daughter, his determination to do the right thing, and his arm band. When they first met Steve has just assumed Danny was wearing the arm band as part of his uniform, but as they spend more and more time together outside of work Steve realizes that he never sees Danny take the band off.

The question starts to burn in him, why? Does Danny not believe in soulmates? Was Rachel his soulmate? Does Danny know who his soulmate is? For some reason the last question feels important. It runs through his mind on the nights that he can’t sleep. Who is Danny’s soulmate?

---

It doesn’t take long for Steve to realize what his feelings towards Danny are. It’s an unfamiliar feeling to know that he likes Danny but can’t do anything about it. He’d only ever felt this way before about Freddie but even that had been different. Freddie has already been in a relationship so there would have no point in telling him how he felt.

Danny though, is different. On paper there’s nothing holding Steve back from telling him how he feels but still he can’t bring himself to actually say anything.

A voice in the back of him mind tells him that the issue is the arm bands. It’s been a long time since Steve has thought about his soulmate, but he does still believe in them. Still wants to have that perfect love that so many soulmates talk about. The understanding an acceptance for every facet of himself. When he was younger it felt like a craving, desperately gnawing away at his insides. Now it’s just an ache, a pang of hurt inside him knowing that something is missing. Something he can’t quite put his finger on. Something that he’s never been able to find with anyone else.

But when he’s with Danny that pang dulls.

He’s gotten used to Danny’s touches, the taps on his chest to get his attention, the steady hand on his shoulder as they head into combat, the hugs that last just a moment too long. He savors every one, promising himself that he won’t ask for more but still he wonders, what if he did ask?

The band around his arm starts to feel like a weight he’s dragging around as the months go on. Instead of a means of protection, it starts to feel like a barrier. What is Danny is his soulmate? What if he’ll never know because of these damned sleeves?

---

Breaking into the governors mansion, his arrest, and escape, all feel like a background noise as Danny tells him about his relationship with Rachel. That they’ve been having an affair for weeks, that she’s pregnant again and it’s Danny’s, that they were going to run away together. Blood rushes through Steve’s head as he tries to shut it all down, the emotions bubbling up within him at the news. Anger, confusion, doubt. Jealousy.

He knows he says something to Danny, hopefully something comforting, but he doesn’t know what. His body is working on autopilot while his mind tries to seal shut all of the compartments inside of him that are threatening to burst open. It feels like too much. Too much to know all of this and know, finally, that Danny is not his. Danny has never been his.

---

Weeks later, Danny is knocking on his door saying Rachel has gone back to Stan, her soulmate, and that the baby isn’t his. Rachel got her math wrong and they’re going to fix their relationship for the sake of the baby.

“I’m so sorry Danny,“ he says because what else can he say? He knew exactly how excited Danny was to have Rachel back, to have his family back, and a baby on the way. Now he has none of that.

“Don’t be,“ Danny says, his voice raw, and Steve pauses, “the entire time, from the moment the affair started. No, from the moment i met Rachel, i always felt like there was something missing.“

Danny’s gaze is piercing, holding him to the spot he stands.

“I never believed in soulmates. My parents aren’t soulmates, i know that it can work. I always told myself that I was going to marry someone that i chose to love, not someone that the universe told me to love. But,“ Danny pauses and takes a deep, bracing breath before continuing, “but there was always something that felt off. I told myself that it was okay, that it wasn’t a big deal. Then i met you, and every time that i’m with you things just feel right.“

Steve can’t breathe. He’s pretty sure he hasn’t breathed since Danny first started talking. The air fills filled with anticipation, his skin feel tight, like he’s bracing on a knife’s edge wondering which way he’s going to fall.

“I just need to try something,“ Danny says when Steve fails to fill the silence.

Danny raises his arm and it’s only now that he realizes that Danny is not wearing his arm band. Seeing the exposed skin of Danny’s arm almost feels wrong, wicked even, to look at this part of Danny that he’s kept hidden for so long. In his other hand Danny hold a pen and Steve watches Danny writes something on his arm.

No sooner has Danny finished than Steve’s arm starts to feel warm under his band. The same kind of warmth like when Danny touches him. His eyes shoot down to his covered arm and finally, he remembers to breathe. It’s been so long since he felt that warmth that he had forgotten how it felt.

“Take your band off,“ Danny says and it almost sounds pleading.

Steve does what Danny says, hooking his thumb under the fabric and pushing it down to his wrist. On the exposed skin ‘Is it you?’ is written in Danny’s handwriting.

“I knew it had to be you,“ Danny says, holding out his own arm with the exact same writing on it. Steve can see tears in his eyes, he knows that his own eyes are misty, but he doesn’t know what to do next. He’d thought about this moment a thousand times, wondering how it would go, but now that it’s here. Now that it’s Danny standing in front of him. He doesn’t know what to do.

Danny reads him like a book, he’s always been able to read Steve so well, and he takes the first step forward instead. “Come here,“ Danny tells him and they fall into each other, lips crashing together in a kiss. It’s not perfect but Steve never wants it to end.

He’s found his soulmate. He’s found Danny. And finally everything feels right.

#erandri writes things #hawaii five o #H50 #mcdanno soulmates AU #mcdanno #h50 fanfic #hey look who finished a fic after *checks notes* two years #full disclosure i had written half of this fic years ago and had it saved in my drafts

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caitlynmeow · 2 months

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Lmao okay so Cassandra and Daniela were the loudest advocates for having pets in the castle but Alcina always said no because it’s plenty of work for everyone to look after the three daughters and no one has the energy to do the same for pets (because tbh the daughters can’t do much on their own they have maids that literally do everything for them like they barely even dress themselves there is always someone helping them and this is just ONE example)

Anyway, years and years later, life made a full circle and one Cassandra Dimitrescu was asked by her very own daughters if they can have a pet. Cassandra took a moment to realize that if it’s not for her wife, this family would be in shambles because Cass can barely keep herself alive let alone her children. And then she realized that her mother was right. It is a lot of work already and having pets is not going to work.

Cass would rather die than admit her mother is right but she fully gets it now

#house dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu #resident evil village #daniela dimitrescu #resident evil 8 #bela dimitrescu #re8 #alcina dimitrescu #headcanon #Dimitrescu daughters haven’t done anything for themselves #like they just exist and have maids to do everything for them #bela learned how to tie shoelace in high school and only bc she felt that it’s something she should know how to do #cass and dani never learned EVEN AS ADULTS #😭😭😭#they don’t pick up anything even school bags #the only time they do is when they’re leaving the car to enter the school but this is it #just useless rich girls with an army of maids in their giant castle #they don’t need to learn anything because they have people doing these things for them #and cass is the same #she has a lot of maids and three Nannie’s to keep up with her children and she KNOWS that it’s only because of her wife’s amazing #management skills that the family is alive and well #because cass grew up being super spoiled she can’t function in any other way #she needs someone to keep watch on her and make sure SHE is alive #having her own children is a huge challenge but she has an amazing wife #so yes the same sentiment lives on #pets are too big of a responsibility #and yes there are maids to do this but they’re already busy keeping the family members alive #plus their actual duties so pets are a no still

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area51-escapee · 1 year

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One of the many hills I’ll die on is my defense of the Girl Scouts if you hear the “girl” in Girl Scouts and immediately assume “well, clearly all they’re teaching them is how to bake cookies and manage a household and become a good wife and mother who stays home and cooks and cleans” then that shits on you yeah some troops aren’t going to be as good as others it all depends on the leadership and resources available but that doesn’t negate the fact that at it’s core it is there to teach young girls valuable skills and it can provide unique opportunities and a nice community for people who may need it

#like. my experience wasn’t even the /best/#I wasn’t bullied by the other girls by any means but I also wasn’t liked I was just. there and kinda outcast from them #and my troop was on a military base we didn’t have a lot #but we still did fun arts and crafts projects and we went camping ALL the time #I wasn’t allowed to do much of anything so it was a chance to get out of the house #and spend time with people my age outside of school #even the cookie selling is often used to teach about managing money and businesses ect #and lots of people get experience with first aid and STEM projects in it #when my sister was signing up after we moved they were talking about doing #lots of conservation and environmental clean up projects #which is cool!!!#from what I hear the Girl Scouts keep up with the fucken times besties #it’s been a long time since I was a part of it but I still think it’s a great thing #and I hate when people dunk on it and reduce it to just selling cookies #and assume that because it’s for girls it only teaches old fashioned misogynistic standards #also things like knowing how the basics of how to cook and shit like that are still important???#they don’t teach that in most schools anymore except as an elective #it’s not that young girls /shouldn’t/ learn that it’s that it should be taught to people regardless of gender #you need that shit to survive damn #we support Girl Scouts in this household

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dinitride-art · 1 year

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I’ve got a required class that I don’t particularly feel happy doing, but at the end I’ll have the ability to make edits so. The promise of being able to cause myself psychic damage at the end of this will get me through the psychic damage I’ll sustain while doing it.

#I am not the best at technology because the way people have explained stuff to me in my life #usually makes me feel stupid #because it’s like why don’t you know how to click this thing! it’s literally this button right here!#and how would I know that #like yeah I know logically how this should happen but none of these symbols make any sense #and when I hover on some of them they don’t give me the helpful little description #and it’s terrible #there’s always the comments about how your generation was raised on this! why don’t you know how to make a file folder #sorry I was like 14 and had literally no need to before this ma’am #anyways this class isn’t like that but my prior experience with being taught this stuff is bad #not a great place to start learning how to use photoshop #I don’t care that it can do literally everything #that means nothing if it fails to convey how to do anything at all #if you want me to learn a language you have to give me people speaking it first #throwing grammar and verb conjugations just isn’t enough #I’m just going to cry about it for a while and then I’ll be okay again #actually what I really think could fix this is if they taught a theory of computer science course #without any math or stupid shit in it #so I personally could figure out how it goes from a circuit board to YouTube #I don’t need to know how to make a computer or a website #I just need to know how it works #like I can’t do scientific experiments but I know how the immune system operates well enough to be okay with it #better yet explain it to me using Minecraft red stone #and old pixelated video games #can’t promise that this will be the end of me comparing about this #because I’ve got stuff due tomorrow and I need to make myself do it #sorry in advance for the person I may or may not become tonight

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robertsbarbie · 1 year

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i understand venting without wanting solutions but sometimes there NEEDS to be solutions and you NEED to accept help otherwise you life is always gonna be fucking miserable

#[redacted]#please i do understand not wanting any help solving your problems and just ranting about them #but when there are things people can help with you need to trust that they can help #my mother is working on my sister’s grad cap and was going on and on about how #i needed to look at her because she looks like crap and she’s not going to have time or energy to shower before tomorrow and my sister is #going to be so embarrassed #and so i asked what can i do to help #thinking she could go shower while i placed things togetehr or whatever #and she in a very just flat out condescending tone was like ‘well it’s not like you know how to iron’ (by the way i DO and shes literally #SEEN me iron but i digress) and when i stated that i did she got very mad and got very accusatory saying where the hell did i learn to do #that (which??????) and that no offense she doesn’t trust that i won’t fuck it up and she can’t take that chance #and i get not trusting people but holy fucking god at some point you HAVE to #and this is just one example of this week this is how she gets with EVERYTHING #and i know i can be annoying and aggravating in the way i try to fix things especially in situations i don’t fully understand #but telling your children that they are incapable of doing anything and you have to do everything you isn’t healthy 💜💜💜💜#idk #eris: text

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whimsyprinx · 1 year

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i think I just need to stop clinging to and getting so attached to people

#whimsy whispers #because then things fall apart and so do I #it’s also just like suffocating and annoying of me to do to people I’ve realized #like I just tend to get too attached to people and when things get bad and I can’t fix them I don’t know what to do or how to cope #especially when it feels like no one else is being affected the same way I am so it feels like it’s just a me problem #anyways guess who finally talked to their irl about how they’d been feeling for the past few months #I don’t expect for things to improve based on just doing this and idk if things will be like they use to be but this is the only friendship #that I feel like I can like idk salvage at this point #I don’t think they’ll go back to being the most important person in the world to me or my very best friend but maybe that’s for the best #it just hurts not having someone like that in my life anymore because I did genuinely love them so much but like idk I already knew they’d #never love me as much as i did like they have actual loved ones who it makes more sense to cherish more which is like obvs fine I just like #idk i feel like I generally stopped being important in general to them and that’s what hurt most #as for the other friendships I’m uncertain about there’s nothing I can do there #I talk to like very few people now and have been trying to like allow new people to try and get close to me as scary as that is #I am afraid I’ll just fuck up those relationships too tbh because everything is a cycle with me #idk I just feel stupid and helpless and like there’s nothing I can do and maybe i just need to accept that there isn’t anything I can do to #fix my mistakes like I can’t undo anything and I can’t fix them and like I just hope I’ll accept that eventually #and again I need to just learn to stop getting so attached to people it’s just abdjfktk hard for me not to but each time I hurt others or #others hurt me it makes it harder for me to want to let anyone else get closer and eventually I’m going to be all alone if this keeps up #anyways tnats tofays vent/fun little realization that I need to force myself to accept

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pepprs · 2 years

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i don’t know how to explain that since march 2020 with each new horrible thing happening in the world i shrink further and further into myself and away from connection and hope

#i told that friend i would call them today but then i woke up 6 minutes after roe v wade got overturned. and i can’t call that friend. i #can’t even tell them why. i can’t even talk to my family or even look at them. i can’t even stand on my feet for too long or get anything #done. i can’t reply to any texts or act on any urgent emails. i can’t draw or play piano or do anything to destract myself. all i can do is #scroll and read and be very very still and very very quiet. i don’t even have the energy to cry #in December and February and may i had spells lasting days at a time of being unable to function because such horrible things were happening #all at once and i just couldn’t process it anymore. and it’s gonna happen over and over again more and more frequently and there truly is #nothing i can do to stop it without getting the energy back but every time i think im almost there something happens and i crash back down #all over again. really and truly preparing to leave for brighton was the beginning of the end for me and i don’t know if i will ever get #back to how hopeful and connected and whatever i felt. and living in lockdown all over again doesn’t help but i don’t have the strength to c #change that either. im just tired and everyone is walking all around me right now as i type this and im bristling and want to scream #purrs #delete later #not that i was at all like entirely hopeful or whatever and certainly not that things were good pre covid. but something happened when covid #happened and ever since it’s been like. relentless misery. strings of sad days. no end in sight #i think the best and most helpful things i could do wrt this specific issue are a) open my home to people #seeking abortions who can’t get them in their state / provide travel / resources for them to come here (i can contribute to travel funds #financially but need to learn to drive and find a place to live before i can offer space and transportation resources) and b) keep talking a #about reproductive rights / trying to educate ppl who are skeptical etc etc as someone who would not exist without them. and also c) keep #trying to build collective power and learn to become a better community organizer and open people up to the possibilities that arise when we #recognize ourselves as co-creators of our future and understand that the future is not fixed (which i think aoc said or something and i watc #watched smth on that last night that i think she was part of and it was encouraging to me). so i will try to focus on those things. but this #just has my head spinning so badly. i feel so unmoored. and it’s my job to be a beacon of hope but i feel utterly hopeless

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fruitydiaz · 2 years

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just remembered buck’s going to (possibly) have a biological child

#al talks #i KNOOWWW people have talked about this at length but i honestly haven’t given it much thought because i’m just #truly along for the ride this season i have no idea where we’re going i’m just trying to have fun #but.#like. there’s going to be baby out there. a whole human being. that shares his dna. a child. that he helped create.#what is that. how is that going to feel for him? i’m thinking about him getting excited to buy a sword and shield for jee #so he can help teach her that girls can be heroes too. how is he going to feel about a child that literally…is a Part of him #and he can’t do that with them he can’t help raise them or teach them about the world or share any of his life stories with them and GOD #does he have. so many. life stories. to share with his kids.#but he’s not kameron and connor’s baby’s dad. donor not dad!!!#the thing in their case is that it’s not an anonymous donation and they’re buck’s friends and they live close by so it’s not #unlikely that they’ll share pictures of their kid like when they’re first born or around the holidays or maybe at important milestones #and buck might see bits and pieces of him in them as they grow up. he might see his nose or his curls or his eyes.#the kid might be a fucking giant #and they’ll always be part him but never his #it’d be so…bittersweet for him #i don’t HATE this storyline i know a lot of people do but i don’t think kameron and connor are bad people #i don’t want anything bad to happen to them and at this point buck can’t buck out and i don’t #*back out. 😐 anyways. i don’t #want there to be any sort of health complications because i just…don’t think that’s what buck needs to learn #i just think this storyline is going to teach him that…he CAN get what he wants #he just has to be unafraid of it #he has to look it in the eye and go this is what i want for Me #not what i want to do for other people #and i’m going to go out and be proactive and brave about getting it. not take the ‘safest’ or most familiar route #i Think ultimately this baby will be a good thing for him but it’s going to hurt so bad when he realizes it’s what he wants but.#not like that #i also think this parallels eddie’s journey incredibly well showing how they both want the same things but go about getting them in just.#excruciatingly painful ways. but. i’m running out of tags so. thoughts for another time ig

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foldingfittedsheets · 5 months

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I think something a lot of other people can relate to is the way that you get so conditioned to discomfort that you stop registering it.

I remember sitting at the table with my family, eating dinner as a child. I’d try to eat, because of course I was hungry. But sometimes the flavor or texture was so repugnant that it moved into a category of Not Food.

“Two more bites before you can leave the table.”

“I can’t,” I’d say, trying to explain the impossibility.

But because I was a child they heard, “I won’t,” and made me sit at the table. I’d sit in dull agonized silence, bored and hungry for hours until bedtime when they’d give up. I’d hate myself for not eating and my parents for forcing me to sit there. The few forcefeeding moments ended in vomit.

They’d say, “If you don’t eat this you can’t eat a snack later,” and I moved past trying to communicate my discomfort into accepting that I’d just be hungry.

That state of affairs didn’t last, because my parents realized nothing could force me to eat so they catered to my palate, worrying they’d starve me. But the message stuck. If you can’t do anything about a situation, just accept the suffering.

A few years later my mother called me off the playground to ask, “Are you limping?”

I shrugged. My feet had hurt for a long time, but that was just the way things were now. My mom pulled my socks and shoes off and gasped. The soles of my feet were covered in huge painful planters warts.

“Why didn’t you say anything?!” She demanded but I could only shrug at her. I’d learned a long time ago that saying things about my discomfort didn’t matter, so now I had no words. Sometimes things hurt and sometimes they don’t. I simply accepted and did my best.

Now as an adult trying to learn to improve my own conditions can be hard. If I make food that I can’t eat I’ll force myself to sit at the counter still, full of guilt and self loathing, trying to will myself to eat it.

At first I needed my betrothed to gently take it away to present me with something I could eat. Now on my own I can usually admit that it’s not happening before too long and get something else, but I still feel guilty.

Laying in bed at night waiting for my betrothed to finish getting ready I let out a huge sigh of relief when they turned the lights off.

“Why didn’t you turn them off if they bothered you?” they asked the first time it happened.

“I didn’t even know it was bothering me until it was gone.”

Assessing my physical state now to see if I can improve it is something I’m still relearning but I’m relieved to finally have the space and support to do it.

#ramblies #autism #as an afab kid I didn’t get diagnosed but given my poor social skills and general vibes it’s astonishing I wasn’t #I didn’t learn to implement social masking until way later #also those warts too months to get rid of cause they were too big to burn off #they had to be scraped down slowly after baths

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caelum-in-the-avatarverse · 1 month

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Fandom can do a little gatekeeping. As a treat.

So I finally decided to archive-lock my fics on AO3 last night. I’ve been considering it since the AI scrape last year, but the tipping point was this whole lore.fm debacle, coupled with some thoughts I’ve been thinking regarding Fandom These Days in general and Fandom As A Community in particular. So I wanna explain why I waited so long, why I locked my stuff up now, and why I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m a-okay with making it harder for people to see my stories.

Lurkers really are great, tho

I’m a chronic lurker, and have been since I started hanging out on the internet as a teen in the 00s. These days it’s just cuz I don’t feel a need to socialize very often, but back then it was because I was shy and knew I was socially awkward. Even if I made an account, I’d spend months lurking on message boards or forums or Livejournals, watching other people interact and getting a feel for that particular community’s culture and etiquette before I finally started interacting myself. And y’know, that approach saved me a lot of embarrassment. Over the course of my lurking on any site, there was always some other person who’d clearly joined up five minutes after learning the place existed, barged in without a care for their behavior, and committed so many social faux pas that all the other users were immediately annoyed with them at best. I learned a lot observing those incidents. Lurk More is Rule 33 of the internet for very good reason.

Lurking isn’t bad or weird or creepy. It’s perfectly normal. I love lurking. It’s hard for me to not lurk - socializing takes a lot of energy out of me, even via text. (Heck it took 12 hours for me to write this post, I wish I was kidding--) Occasionally I’ll manage longer bouts of interaction - a few weeks posting here, almost a year chatting in a discord there - but I’m always gonna end up going radio silent for months at some point. I used to feel bad about it, but I’ve long since made peace with the fact that it’s just the way my brain works. I’m a chronic lurker, and in the long term nothing is going to change that.

The thing with being a chronic lurker is that you have to accept that you are not actually seen as part of the community you are lurking in. That’s not to say that lurkers are unimportant - lurkers actually are important, and they make up a large proportion of any online community - but it’s simple cause and effect. You may think of it as “your community”, but if you’ve never said a word, how is the community supposed to know you exist? If I lurked on someone’s LJ, and then that person suddenly friendslocked their blog, I knew that I had two choices: Either accept that I would never be able to read their posts again, or reach out to them and ask if I could be added to their friends list with the full understanding that I was a rando they might not decide to trust. I usually went with the first option, because my invisibility as a lurker was more important to me than talking to strangers on the internet.

Lurking is like sitting on a park bench, quietly people-watching and eavesdropping on the conversations other people are having around you. You’re in the park, but you’re not actively participating in anything happening there. You can see and hear things that you become very interested in! But if you don’t introduce yourself and become part of the conversation, you won’t be able to keep listening to it when those people walk away. When fandom migrated away from Livejournal, people moved to new platforms alongside their friends, but lurkers were often left behind. No one knew they existed, so they weren’t told where everyone else was going. To be seen as part of a fandom community, you need to submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known, etc. etc.

There’s nothing wrong with lurking. There can actually be benefits to lurking, both for the lurkers and the communities they lurk in. It’s just another way to be in a fandom. But if that is how you exist in fandom--and remember, I say this as someone who often does exist that way in fandom--you need to remember that you’re on the outside looking in, and the curtains can always close.

I’ve always been super sympathetic to lurkers, because I am one. I know there’s a lot of people like me who just don’t socialize often. I know there’s plenty of reasons why someone might not make an account on the internet - maybe they’re nervous, maybe they’re young and their parents don’t allow them to, maybe they’re in a bad situation where someone is monitoring their activity, maybe they can only access the internet from public computer terminals. Heck, I’ve never even logged into AO3 on my phone--if I’m away from my computer I just read what’s publicly available.

I know I have people lurking on my fics. I know my fics probably mean a lot to someone I don’t even know exists. I know this because there are plenty of fics I love whose writers don’t know I exist.

I love my commenters personally; I love my lurkers as an abstract concept. I know they’re there and I wish them well, and if they ever de-lurk I love them all the more.

So up until last year I never considered archive-locking my fic, because I get it. The AI scraping was upsetting, but I still hesitated because I was thinking of lurkers and guests and remembering what it felt like to be 15 and wondering if it’d be worth letting a stranger on the internet know I existed and asking to be added to their friends list just so I could reread a funny post they made once.

But the internet has changed a lot since the 00s, and fandom has changed with it. I’ve read some things and been doing some thinking about fandom-as-community over the last few years, and reading through the lore.fm drama made me decide that it’s time for me to set some boundaries.

I still love my lurkers, and I feel bad about leaving any guest commenters behind, especially if they’re in a situation where they can’t make an account for some reason. But from here on out, even my lurkers are going to have to do the bare minimum to read my fics--make an AO3 account.

Should we gatekeep fandom?

I’ve seen a few people ask this question, usually rhetorically, sometimes as a joke, always with a bit of seriousness. And I think…yeah, maybe we should. Except wait, no, not like that--

A decade ago, when people talked about fandom gatekeeping and why it was bad to do, it intersected with a lot of other things, mainly feminism and classism. The prevalent image of fandom gatekeeping was, like, a man learning that a woman likes Star Wars and haughtily demanding, “Oh, yeah? Well if you’re REALLY a fan, name ten EU novels” to belittle and dismiss her, expecting that a “real fan” would have the money and time to be familiar with the EU, and ignoring the fact that male movie-only fans were still considered fans. The thing being gatekept was the very definition of “being a fan” and people’s right to describe themselves as one.

That’s not what I mean when I say maybe fandom should gatekeep more. Anyone can call themselves a fan if they like something, that’s fine. But when it comes to the ability to enjoy the fanworks produced by the fandom community…that might be something worth gatekeeping.

See, back in the 00s, it was perfectly common for people to just…not go on the internet. Surfing the web was a thing, but it was just, like, a fun pastime. Not everyone did it. It wasn’t until the rise of social media that going online became a thing everyone and their grandmother did every day. Back then, going on the internet was just…a hobby.

So one of the first gates online fandom ever had was the simple fact that the entire world wasn’t here yet.

The entire world is here now. That gate has been demolished.

And it’s a lot easier to find us now. Even scattered across platforms, fandom is so centralized these days. It isn’t a network of dedicated webshrines and forums that you can only find via webrings anymore, it’s right there on all the big social media sites. AO3 didn’t set out to be the main fanfic website, but that’s definitely what it’s become. It’s easy for people to find us--and that includes people who don’t care about the community, and just want “content.”

Transformative fandom doesn’t like it when people see our fanworks as “content”. “Content” is a pretty broad term, but when fandom uses it we’re usually referring to creative works that are churned out by content creators to be consumed by an audience as quickly as possible as often as possible so that the content creator can generate revenue. This not-so-new normal has caused a massive shift in how people who are new to fandom view fanworks--instead of seeing fic or art as something a fellow fan made and shared with you, they see fanworks as products to be consumed.

Transformative fandom has, in general, always been a gift economy. We put time and effort into creating fanworks that we share with our fellow fans for free. We do this so we don’t get sued, but fandom as a whole actually gets a lot out of the gift economy. Offer your community a story, and in return you can get comments, build friendships, or inspire other people to write things that you might want to read. Readers are given the gift of free stories to read and enjoy, and while lurking is fine, they have the choice to engage with the writer and other readers by leaving comments or making reclists to help build the community.

And look, don’t get me wrong. People have never engaged with fanfic as much as fan writers wish they would. There has always been “no one comments anymore” wank. There have always been people who only comment to say “MORE!” or otherwise demand or guilt trip writers into posting the next chapter. But fandom has always agreed that those commenters are rude and annoying, and as those commenters navigate fandom they have the chance to learn proper community etiquette.

However, now it seems that a lot of the people who are consuming fanworks aren’t actually in the community.

I won’t say “they aren’t real fans” because that’s silly; there’s lots of ways to be a fan. But there seem to be a lot of fans now who have no interest in fandom as a community, or in adhering to community etiquette, or in respecting the gift economy. They consume our fics, but they don’t appreciate fan labor. They want our “content”, but they don’t respect our control over our creations.

And even worse--they see us as a resource. We share our work for free, as a gift, but all they see is an open-source content farm waiting to be tapped into. We shared it for free, so clearly they can do whatever they want with it. Why should we care if they feed our work into AI training datasets, or copy/paste our unfinished stories into ChatGPT to get an ending, or charge people for an unnecessary third-party AO3 app, or sell fanbindings on etsy for a profit without the author’s permission, or turn our stories into poor imitations of podfics to be posted on other platforms without giving us credit or asking our consent, while also using it to lure in people they can datascrape for their Forbes 30 Under 30 company?

And sure, people have been doing shady things with other people’s fanworks since forever. Art theft and reposting has always been a big problem. Fanfic is harder to flat-out repost, but I’ve heard of unauthorized fic translations getting posted without crediting the original author. Once in…I think the 2010s? I read a post by a woman who had gone to some sort of local bookselling event, only to find that the man selling “his” novel had actually self-published her fanfic. (Wish I could find that one again, I don’t even remember where I read it.)

But aside from that third example, the thing is…as awful as fanart/writing theft is, back in the day, the main thing a thief would gain from it was clout. Clout that should rightfully go to the creators who gifted their work in the first place, yeah, but still. Just clout. People will do a lot of hurtful things for clout, but fandom clout means nothing outside of fandom. Fandom clout is not enough to incentivize the sort of wide-scale pillaging we’re seeing from community outsiders today.

Money, on the other hand… Well, fandom’s just a giant, untapped content farm, isn’t it? Think of how much revenue all that content could generate.

Lurkers are a normal and even beneficial part of any online community. Maybe one day they’ll de-lurk and easily slide into place beside their fellow fans because they already know the etiquette. Maybe they’re active in another community, and they can spread information from the community they lurk in to the community they’re active in. At the very least, they silently observe, and even if they’re not active community members, they understand the community.

Fans who see fanworks as “content” don’t belong in the same category as lurkers. They’re tourists.

While reading through the initial Reddit thread on the lore.fm situation, I found this comment:

[ID: Reddit User Cabbitowo says: ... So in anime fandoms we have a word called tourist and essentially it means a fan of a few anime and doesn't care about anime tropes and actively criticizes them. This is kind of how fandoms on tiktok feel. They're touring fanfics and fanart and actively criticizes tropes that have been in the fandom since the 60s. They want to be in a fandom but they don't want to engage in fandom

OP totallymandy responds: Just entered back into Reddit after a long day to see this most recent reply. And as a fellow anime fan this making me laugh so much since it’s true! But it sorta hurts too when the reality sets in. Modern fandom is so entitled and bratty and you’d think it’s the minors only but that’s not even true, my age-mates and older seem to be like that. They want to eat their cake and complain all whilst bringing nothing to the potluck… :/ END ID]

“Tourist” is an apt name for this sort of fan. They don’t want to be part of our community, and they don’t have to be in order to come into our spaces and consume our work. Even if they don’t steal our work themselves, they feel so entitled to it that they’re fine with ignoring our wishes and letting other people take it to make AI “podfics” for them to listen to (there are a lot of comments on lore.fm’s shutdown announcement video from people telling them to just ignore the writers and do it anyway). They’ll use AI to generate an ending to an unfinished fic because they don’t care about seeing “the ending this writer would have given to the story they were telling”, they just want “an ending”. For these tourist fans, the ends justify the means, and their end goal is content for them to consume, with no care for the community that created it for them in the first place.

I don’t think this is confined to a specific age group. This isn’t “13-year-olds on Wattpad” or “Zoomers on TikTok” or whatever pointless generation war we’re in now. This is coming from people who are new to fandom, whose main experience with creative works on the internet is this new content culture and who don’t understand fandom as a community. That description can be true of someone from any age group.

It’s so easy to find fandom these days. It is, in fact, too easy. Newcomers face no hurdles or challenges that would encourage them to lurk and observe a bit before engaging, and it’s easy for people who would otherwise move on and leave us alone to start making trouble. From tourist fans to content entrepreneurs to random people who just want to gawk, it’s so easy for people who don’t care about the fandom community to reap all of its fruits.

So when I say maybe fandom should start gatekeeping a bit, I’m referring to the fact that we barely even have a gate anymore. Everyone is on the internet now; the entire world can find us, and they don’t need to bother learning community etiquette when they do. Before, we were protected by the fact that fandom was considered weird and most people didn’t look at it twice. Now, fandom is pretty mainstream. People who never would’ve bothered with it before are now comfortable strolling in like they own the place. They have no regard for the fandom community, they don’t understand it, and they don’t want to. They want to treat it just like the rest of the content they consume online.

And then they’re surprised when those of us who understand fandom culture get upset. Fanworks have existed far longer than the algorithmic internet’s content. Fanworks existed long before the internet. We’ve lived like this for ages and we like it.

So if someone can’t be bothered to respect fandom as a community, I don’t see why I should give them easy access to my fics.

Think of it like a garden gate

When I interact with commenters on my fic, I have this sense of hospitality.

The comment section is my front porch. The fic is my garden. I created my garden because I really wanted to, and I’m proud of it, and I’m happy to share it with other people.

Lots of people enjoy looking at my garden. Many walk through without saying anything. Some stop to leave kudos. Some recommend my garden to their friends. And some people take the time to stop by my front porch and let me know what a beautiful garden it is and how much they’ve enjoyed it.

Any fic writer can tell you that getting comments is an incredible feeling. I always try to answer all my comments. I don’t always manage it, but my fics’ comment sections are the one place that I manage to consistently socialize in fandom. When I respond to a comment, it feels like I’m pouring out a glass of lemonade to share with this lovely commenter on my front porch, a thank you for their thank you. We take a moment to admire my garden together, and then I see them out. The next time they drop by, I recognize them and am happy to pour another glass of lemonade.

My garden has always been open and easy to access. No fences, no walls. You just have to know where to find it. Fandom in general was once protected by its own obscurity, an out-of-the-way town that showed up on maps but was usually ignored.

But now there’s a highway that makes it easy to get to, and we have all these out-of-towner tourists coming in to gawk and steal our lawn ornaments and wonder if they can use the place to make themselves some money.

I don’t care to have those types trampling over my garden and eating all my vegetables and digging up my flowers to repot and sell, so I’ve put up a wall. It has a gate that visitors can get through if they just take the time to open it.

Admittedly, it’s a small obstacle. But when I share my fics, I share them as a gift with my fellow fans, the ones who understand that fandom is a community, even if they’re lurkers. As for tourist fans and entrepreneurs who see fic as content, who have no qualms ignoring the writer’s wishes, who refuse to respect or understand the fandom community…well, they’re not the people I mean to share my fic with, so I have no issues locking them out. If they want access to my stories, they’ll have to do the bare minimum to become a community member and join the AO3 invite queue.

And y’know, I’ve said a lot about fandom and community here, and I just want to say, I hope it’s not intimidating. When I was younger, talk about The Fandom Community made me feel insecure, and I didn’t think I’d ever manage to be active enough in fandom spaces to be counted as A Member Of The Community. But you don’t have to be a social butterfly to participate in fandom. I’ll always and forever be a chronic lurker, I reblog more than I post, I rarely manage to comment on fic, and I go radio silent for months at a time--but I write and post fanfiction. That’s my contribution.

Do you write, draw, vid, gif, or otherwise create? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you leave comments? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you curate reclists? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you maintain a fandom blog or fuckyeah blog? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you provide a space for other fans to convene in? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you regularly send asks (off anon so people know who you are)? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you have fandom friends who you interact with? Congrats, you're a community member.

There’s lots of ways to be a fan. Just make sure to respect and appreciate your fellow fans and the work they put in for you to enjoy and the gift economy fandom culture that keeps this community going.

#ao3 #lore.fm #fanfiction #fandom history #gift economy #caelum rambles

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imsosleepyofyourbull · 20 days

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I firmly believe that Kabru is autistic but masks so hard that he’s convinced himself and (almost) everyone around him that he’s neurotypical.

That man’s special interest is people and how they work, but he just thinks it’s him Being So Good At Socializing — like he doesn’t spend 95% of his time people watching and adjusting his personality in response to the traits he witnesses and obsessing over the intricacies of human interaction while mapping an ever growing relationship chart in his head. For fun. He even admits it in the manga!

Like, look at him!!!

It’s such a shame that — because he’s the narrative foil to Laios and his interest is generally considered more “socially acceptable” in both their world and our own — more people don’t realize this about him. He’s constantly misinterpreted as a horribly manipulative person who only acts the way he does to use the people around him, when that’s explicitly shown to not be the case at all. Kabru is naturally empathetic and is almost always thinking about other people, regardless of whether or not they’re right there with him or a thousand miles away.

I mean, his most defining motivation is his desire to do everything he can to avoid another tragedy like the one at Utaya. Someone who doesn’t care wouldn’t have a goal like that, and they most certainly wouldn’t go about it the way he does. He’s constantly working to help people who can help everyone else and tries so hard to make sure that anyone who seems like a threat is actually someone he needs to worry about before doing anything about it. His supposed aversion to Laios is only because of the ridiculous trolley problem he’s set up in his own head.

Outside of that, he (rather justifiably) hates monsters but is desperate to understand Laios’ love for them and his apparently most selfish goal in getting close to the guy was literally just to become friends with him.

When he’s interacting with the canaries and they imply that they’re going to take him and all of his friends to the West, his first thought is of Rin and how much she’d hate to be stuck in the place that gave her so many bad memories.

He helps Kuro learn Common when Mickbell is asleep and firmly looks forward to the day that the half-foot and Kuro can communicate properly so that their relationship can get properly started without any miscommunication.

And he understands Mithrun with only a handful of weeks AT BEST interacting with him, getting enraged when the elf seems to give up and immediately trying to help him find a new motivation for life.

I’m excited just thinking about the day that Kabru starts unmasking more and more around his friends — both new and old — because if being with my current friend group has taught me anything, it’s that hanging out with anyone so unabashedly themselves is bound to make you more comfortable with yourself too. It’s part of the reason why I like Labru so much! There’s something nice about imagining them hanging out in the throne room or laying in the grass outside and talking for hours on end about their special interests. They might not strictly understand what the other finds so fascinating about monsters or people, but they can grasp that shared feeling of love.

They probably influence each other in really good ways too, with Kabru helping Laios figure out what people are thinking even when it doesn’t make sense or Laios helping Kabru understand that not everyone and everything needs to be analyzed a thousand times over. They both get to learn that there are people like them and people who will love them without them ever having to change a thing about themselves. They deserve to know that they’re fine the way they are.

#I have so many more thoughts about these two #like how Laios is actually the one who couldn’t really care about people outside of his immediate friends and family #that his love is the one that would burn down the world if it meant the people he cared about got to be as safe and happy as they should be #always as themselves #never as the corrupted versions of them in their nightmares or by the winged lions distortions #which is how Kabru would learn to be more selfish and needy #encouraged to act on his own desires and help other people at the same time #these two have ruined me #especially Kabru #because I’m predictable and my other two favorite characters are Tachihara Michizou and Nara Shikamaru #dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #dungeon meshi kabru #kabru of utaya #dungeon meshi laios #laios touden #dungeon meshi rin #rinsha fana #dungeon meshi mickbell #mickbell #dungeon meshi kuro #kuro #dungeon meshi mithrun #mithrun #labru

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its44intheehouse · 2 months

Text

pairing: lewis hamilton x Wolff!fem!reader

author’s note: GOD this might be awful but please keep in mind that it’s my first story :) WILL most probably go through major adjustments.

summary: in which her father, Toto Wolff, has always told her to stay away from the young drivers. He never said anything about the older ones though…

warnings: 18+ smut/nsfw, masturbation(f), oral sex(f receiving), fingering, cursing, size kink, unprotected sex, squirting, creampie, age-gap, praise kink, bit of choking.

Being the daughter of a Formula 1 Team Principal never failed to be exciting.

Always VIP treatment, lots of traveling to beautiful countries, numerous job opportunities and getting to meet famous people. You were always grateful for your privileged life but never took advantage of it in a selfish way, although you enjoyed the things it had to offer from time to time. You always refused being treated differently just because of your status. You just weren’t that type of person. You liked working for the things you desired. Your adventurous side always loved a challenge, and that was also the thing your father admired and feared the most about you.

He always encouraged this side of you, ever since you were a kid. If you wanted to learn how to skate, he’d buy you a skateboard. If you spontaneously wanted to spend the next 3 months away from home in another country, he’d book your flight. One day you showed up at his office to show him your first tattoo. You always said you’d never get a tattoo, you didn’t think it would look good on you. But one day you randomly found yourself in front of a tattoo salon and couldn’t resist the curiosity. Your father was never a big fan of tattoos, but he laughed anyway, called you crazy and snapped a few pictures of the tattoo before sending them to your mom.

Toto didn’t have a lot of rules for you. He always told you “Just don’t get yourself in jail, maybe.”. But the most important and unwritten rule was “never involve yourself with the young drivers.”.

He thought they were immature boys and walking red flags, although he deeply respected them for performing in such a dangerous sport as Formula 1. You, on the other hand were never interested in any of them anyway. You befriended a few of the drivers, sometimes partied with them, but no one really caught your interest. No one besides Lewis Hamilton.

Lewis was your father’s most prized possession in the team. 7 times World Champion (or 8 if you ask me), a genuine person, an expert in what he was doing and the best he could get.

Lewis Hamilton emanated power everywhere he went. He always took his work and image very seriously, always told it as it was and his charming personality never failed to impress everyone in the room. Even the drivers looked up to him, hoping to one day be as great as him. Your first encounter with him was when you were only 15 years old, and to say that you were immediately intimidated by him was an understatement.

The nervousness you constantly felt when you were around him was originally a reaction to all the things you heard about the driver. But as time passed, you found yourself intimidated for others reasons. Maybe it was because you were a teenager and your hormones were going crazy, or because of all the books and fanfiction you used to read at that time, but you couldn’t take your eyes away from him anymore. Everything about him drew you in. His tall and muscular body, his numerous tattoos that gave him a dangerous and playboy vibe, his soothing but rough voice adorned with the most beautiful british accent, his braided hair and smooth skin… That man was basically sex on legs. One of God’s finest pieces.

He instantly took a very protective role in your life. To him, you were basically a child, especially due to the big age-gap between you. But you were also his boss’s daughter so he naturally felt the need to protect you.

Now, at 23, you managed to keep a close friendship with the driver. He was always there if you needed advice for something, always there to rant to about your crazy life and always there for a good time. You spent a lot of vacations with him and his friends. Went to a lot of road trips, skateboard dates, dinner or breakfast dates, countless movie nights, sometimes just the two of you. And although your crush on him never went away, in fact the adoration and attraction only deepened, he not once tried anything with you. He always kept things friendly between you two, decent.

And it frustrated the shit out of you. Sometimes you would catch him staring at you, or even touching you for a minute longer, but never more than that. And you slowly began losing hope that one day he’d see you as more than a friend and his boss’s daughter.

————————————————————————

It’s Friday night. Since you didn’t have any plans for today and were bored out of your mind, you decided to call Lewis to ask if he would go out with you tonight. He apologized and told you that he wasn’t really feeling like doing anything crazy tonight, but insisted that you could come over and spend time together, maybe watch a movie or something. You accepted immediately.

So here you were now, 1AM in his living room, with your head on his lap and eyes closed. You didn’t mean to fall asleep really, but your fucked up sleep schedule was beginning to take a toll on you, making you doze off at very random times. Plus, the way his hand was mindlessly running through your hair felt too good.

You slowly open your eyes when you feel Roscoe licking at your hand. With a groan, you try to sit up and take in everything that’s going on. How long have you been asleep for? “Suits” is still playing on the TV, the room is almost dark except for the light of the television, Roscoe is sitting by the couch, looking back at you with his tongue hanging out, and Lewis is on his phone, probably reading through his emails.

“Thought you’d never wake up.” He chuckled, locking his phone and throwing it on the couch.

“I’m so sorry, Lewis.” You sighed, rubbing your face with your hands in hope of getting rid of the sleepiness and the headache you just woke up with. “I didn’t mean to, lately I’ve been having trouble with sleep. Maybe it’s because of school, I don’t know. My schedule doesn’t really allow me a healthy bed time anymore.”

He looks worried as he reaches out to you, shaking your arm a little.

“You can sleep here if you want. It’s late, you’re obviously very tired. I don’t want you driving back home in this state.” He proposes.

“Yeah? I can?” You chuckle, placing your hand on his. Your stomach flutters when you feel his soft, warm skin.

He looks rather angelic in the low light. His eyes are shiny but tired, his lips look soft and juicy, and his body is comfortably spread on the sofa.

“You know you can, bunny.”

Bunny. He loves to call you that. Ever since you were a teenager, he’d always call you that. You found it cute.

“Okay, then. Can I borrow some clothes, though? These jeans aren’t the most comfortable thing in the world to be honest.” You say, getting up from the couch.

“Yeah, sure.”

You follow him to the guest room. The bed looks cozier than ever, and you quickly find yourself hopping into it, groaning at the feeling of the comfortable and soft mattress. Lewis laughs and leaves you for a moment, but comes back a few seconds later, throwing some clothes on the bed beside you.

“Got you a shirt and some pants. But I’m not sure the pants are gonna fit though. You’re… a lot smaller than me for sure.” He spoke, crossing his arms to his chest. “Sorry.”

“No, Lewis. It’s all good.” You giggle, waving your arm lazily. “Thank you.”

You take a moment to look at him again. He has a soft smile on his face and his body is leaning against the door frame, the dim light in the room accentuating the muscles in his arms. He looked huge. And delicious.

Jesus.

“Good night.” He gently whispered. You say it back and then he finally leaves the room, leaving you all alone. And frustrated.

With a deep sigh, you grab the clothes he gave you and inspect them a little. A simple tie dye t-shirt(he loves these), and a pair of shorts, probably the smalest he had in his wardrobe. And they still looked big. Making a decision, you throw the pants on a chair and only keep the t-shirt, then start to change out of your clothes.

Once that was done, you floop back on the bed and check your phone real quick, before turning off the lights and pulling the blanket over your body.

————————————————————————-

You woke up sweaty. With a groan, you quickly pull the covers off your hot body to try and get some air. Your hair is sticking to your forehead and the massive headache you just woke up with already makes you irritated.

Stretching your body a little, you reach for the phone sitting on the nightstand to check the time. 4AM.

“God dammit.” You curse under your breath, rubbing your face with your palm.

You could feel the faint smell of Lewis’s cologne on the t-shirt he gave you. Le Labo’s Rose 31, his favorite. Biting your lip, you bring the material to your nose and inhale the scent. A moan almost escaped you. You could basically feel him, it was like he was in the room with you again. And that definitely didn’t help your current state.

You start wondering what he might be doing right now. He’s probably sound asleep, spread on his king sized bed with nothing but his boxers on, quietly snoring, like he always does. You wish you were there to see him. Admire him. Touch his skin.

Subconsciously, you let your hand travel down your chest and under the shirt, touching at your hot skin. A shiver hits you, and you curiously start to feel around your stomach with your fingers. With eyes closed, you imagine Lewis touching you like that.

It wasn’t unusual for you to think about him like that. But in your defense, you just couldn’t help it. Everything about him felt masculine. His energy, his body, his voice, his gestures. He was basically the man you always dreamed of having, even for one night. You always wondered what he would be like in bed.

Maybe he’d whisper softly in your ear, call you “sweetheart”, take his time on making you feel good, praising you for how good you are for him. How good you take him. Or maybe, he’d manhandle you, make you do whatever he asks, put you in any position he wants while choking you with his big arms and mockingly slapping your face, degrading you for being such a whore, as his cock would slide in and out of you at an abusive pace, making your juices drip out of you with every deep, harsh thrust.

You don’t even remember the exact moment your fingers started rubbing your clit through your panties. You were definitely soaked, the wetness making a faint noise everytime your middle finger would flick at your pussy down to your enterance. A needy whimper escapes you. You needed more.

With the other hand, you quickly grab at your boobs, softly massaging them one by one and pulling on your sensitive nipples. It was all too much but still not enough. The material of your panties was drenched at this point, so you quickly moved them aside.

Circling your awaiting hole a few times, you insert a finger inside slowly.

“Mm, fuck.” You moan, hiding your face into the pillow so you could hopefully hide the sounds you were making.

You imagined Lewis doing this to you. Sitting between your thighs so he can have a clear image of your creamy pussy as he is pumping his fingers in and out of you. He’d have his mouth on you from time to time, sucking your clit harshly and moving his tongue from one hole to the other. His deep brown eyes would never leave your figure, trying to take in every single inch of you and memorize it, so he can always remember how desperate and ruined he makes you.

“Such a pretty pussy. U’re doing so good for me.” He’d praise.

The squelching sound of your cunt momentarily takes you off the trance. Your hand is wet and you’re working one more finger inside of you now, as your other hand desperately rubs at your sensitive button. You can’t believe you’re doing this in Lewis’s house, especially when his room is so close to yours, but you shamelessly don’t care enough about that right now, not when you’re so close to your orgasm.

“Mphh, Lewis…” You cry out, eyes shut.

As your back arches off the mattress, you start scissoring the fingers inside your pussy faster. You gasp for air as your legs begin to shake violently, your swollen clit throbbing uncontrollably. You moan louder than expected as you come all over your fingers, and the thought of Lewis hearing your needy sounds almost excites you more.

After a few moments, you remove the fingers from your pussy. You needed a shower so bad, maybe it would wash away the shame you were feeling at the pit of your stomach. Were you too loud? Did he hear how pathetic you’ve been, just from his scent and a few scenarios of him fucking you with his mouth and fingers?

Sitting up, you scrunch your face in disgust at the feeling of your drenched and cold underwear. You curse in your head for not taking them off early on. What the fuck were you supposed to wear now?

Deciding to swallow your shame, you finally get up from the bed to make your way to the bathroom that was connected to your room. After washing your hands twice with the expensive soap bar, you look into the mirror to see just how messy you really were. Your cheeks were flushed, your mascara was smudged, skin was glowy with sweat and your hair looked like a bird nest. Basically, it was as if you had just taken part in a gangbang.

With a sigh, you take off your panties and run them through the water, trying to wash away the sin you had just committed. Getting lost in thoughts, your stomach almost startles you as it begins to growl loudly. The little amount of energy you had left and now you felt hungry, and incredibly thirsty. Balancing your options, you wonder if you should leave the room to go get something to eat from the kitchen. Your panties were still wet and you couldn’t imagine wearing them now, but you knew you’d never be able to fall asleep again if your stomach constantly demanded food. Plus, drinking tap water was never an option.

“Fuck.”

Slipping your underwear back on, you inspect yourself in the mirror a little and pull on Lewis’s t-shirt, making sure that it covers enough, just in case.

The whole penthouse is silent as you walk to the kitchen. A few lights are still on, but that’s just how Lewis prefers it. You assume Roscoe is in his room fast asleep as well, because you don’t run into him on your way. Opening the fridge, you immediately grab a bottle of water and place it on the counter, before scanning for some food. The indian takeout boxes were really calling your name right now, so you grabbed two of them before closing the door with your foot.

“Couldn’t sleep?”

You almost drop the boxes from your hands when you hear his voice. Turning around, you find him staring at you, with a little smirk on his face.

“You almost shit your pants, bunny. Did I scare you?” He laughs, approaching you.

“Jesus, Hamilton. Almost gave me a heart attack, could’ve died right here on your kitchen floor.” You exhaled, dropping the boxes on the table and placing a hand on your chest, trying to see if your heart was still beating.

“I’m sorry. Won’t do it again.” He chuckles and briefly massages your shoulders, before pushing past you to grab a bottle of water from the fridge. After he takes a few sips, he speaks again. “Why aren’t you sleeping?”

“Why aren’t you sleeping?” You bite back, drinking from your own water, almost gulping down the whole thing.

The thought of what you just did a few moments ago creeps into your head again, and you suddenly wish the ground would swallow you. What if he heard? You get self conscious remembering that you’re only wearing his shirt and your destroyed pair of panties that were still wet and uncomfortable, so you pull on the hem to hopefully try and cover yourself as much as possible.

His top lip twitches for a second, then he smiles and shrugs. “Was thirsty.”

He looked absolutely delicious now, with nothing on but a pair of grey shorts and his braids down. His abs were shining underneath the dim lights, and all you wanted right now really was to drop down on your knees and lick them. You couldn’t look further down though, you feared you might pass out if you saw the imprint of his dick in his pants.

You had the opportunity to take a peek, though. Multiple times. Especially on race weekends, when he would just grab his dick in his hand and struggle to readjust himself through the racing suit before hopping in the car. You knew he was big. You fantasized about how he would feel on your tongue, heavy and large. About how he would fuck your throat rough, making you choke on his cock. About how he would hardly be able to slide into your tight, warm pussy, but when he would finally make it, he’d rip you apart with it until you were left a crying, overstimulated mess.

“Why are you so red, bunny? Are you ill?” He asks, furrowing his brows.

When you finally snap out of your filthy thoughts, he’s already in front of you, checking your temperature with the back of his hand, looking concerned.

“N-no.” You almost sound unsure, your voice cracking a little.

“No?” He shakes his head, cupping your flushed cheeks in his hands.

You couldn’t make eye contact with him, even though you knew he was intently watching you. He was so close that there was almost no space to breathe anymore, and you couldn’t take it, so you hesitantly backed off.

A cheeky smirk was plastered on his face though, and he quickly looked you up and down before grabbing a fork and digging into the food left on the table. You just stood there, petrified. No thoughts behind your eyes.

“Aren’t you gonna eat?” He spoke again.

Well, the hunger disappeared, that’s for sure.

You shake your head then clear your throat. “Not hungry anymore. I think I’ll just go back to bed.”

“Hm.”

He doesn’t say anything after that, so you grab the bottle of water and make your way past him, whispering a “good night” softly. After a few seconds, he speaks again.

“Maybe this time you’ll be able to get some sleep instead of moaning my name while you’re touching yourself.”

Your stomach drops. Maybe you’re imagining things. Maybe you’ve gone crazy. But there’s no way this was happening right now. This can’t be real.

You’re stuck in your place for a few moments, calculating your possibilities of escape. Throwing yourself out the window sounds like a good idea now. But you feel cornered, and you can’t think of what to do or say. You were doomed, for sure. But you choose to play dumb instead, so you anxiously turn to him and speak.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve been asleep the whole time.”

He says nothing, and that worries you even more.

Then he throws the fork in the sink and finally faces you. He lifts his eyebrows and leans on the counter, with his arms folded to his chest.

“No, you weren’t.” He spoke. “Come here.” He gestures with his hand.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you decide to listen to him and get closer.

“Please don’t tell dad.” You beg. There was no point in denying anymore. He knew.

He chuckles then, and furrows his brows, looking at you funny. God, you just wish all this would be over already. It felt humiliating.

“You think I’d tell Toto about how his daughter is pleasuring herself to the thought of me?”

His words come out as a whisper as he carefully moves a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I don’t know…”

“What were you thinking about?”

You finally get the courage to look into his eyes then. You’re not sure you heard him right.

“What?”

“I think you heard me just right, princess. What were you thinking about when you had these pretty fingers deep inside your pussy?” He asks, lifting your hand and pressing a few kisses to your fingers.

A whine almost escapes your mouth while you’re watching it happen. You’ve never heard Lewis talk like that, especially towards you, and it both sexually frustrated you as well as made you impossibly shy. A deep shade of red is present on your face and you seriously don’t know if you should just risk it all and tell him about your little fantasies or act dumb about it.

“Y/n”

You snap out of it. “I-I don’t know what to say, Lewis. This is so humiliating.” You sigh deeply, covering your face with your hands.

“Hey, hey.” He shushed you, pulling you into his arms. He smelled so good, and his skin felt hot pressed against yours, even with the t-shirt you were wearing as a barrier. “No need for that, bunny. It’s just me.” His words come out as a whisper as he is moving his hand up and down your back. “…Just us.”

Lifting your head slowly, you look into his eyes and bite your lip. This was all you ever wanted. For him to want you back. And now that he finally hinted that he might be into you in that way, had you at a loss of words and action.

Fuck it, you thought. It’s been too long. Too much time spent on secretive glances, crushing, overthinking, masturbating to the thought of him. Maybe you could finally get something out if it.

“I was thinking of you… Touching me.”

“Good girl. How was I touching you, hm?” The praise goes straight to your core as his head falls to your neck to press a few wet kisses, and you swore you could die right there on the spot. His hands squeeze your waist a little before traveling down to your ass, massaging patiently, waiting for you to respond to his question.

You moan at the action, getting lost in the feeling of him touching you like that. In a second, he lifts you up by your thighs and you unconsciously wrap your legs around his waist. He sits you on the counter then positions himself between your bare legs. His warm hands touch the insides of your thighs, making your breath hitch. You still can’t believe this is happening.

“You look so good in my clothes…” He mumbles, lifting one of his hands to your shirt and squeezing your skin a little. When he reaches your breasts, he squeezes harder.

“Mm… Lewis…” You whine pathetically, waiting for more.

“That’s what you were moaning a few minutes ago, baby?”

You look up to find him staring at you intently with his teeth pulling at his lower lip. His eyes were darker, full of lust. You enjoy having him like this, you realized. A man, the man you dreamed about, about to pleasure you.

“Yes.” You confess sincerely, batting your eyelashes at him.

“You’re such a naughty girl…” He whispers, touching your soft cheek with his finger.

His other hand starts wondering further underneath your shirt, and you find yourself opening your legs wider, waiting desperately for his touch. You can feel one of his fingers pressing against your clit only a few seconds later, and you can’t help but moan already. He rubs tight, circular circles on your sensitive button and groans, pushing your body back. You lean back and let him lift your legs on the counter.

“Shit, bunny. You look so delicious right now."

He reaches the band of your underwear and pulls on it urgently, leaving you bare in front of him. Normally you'd get self conscious everytime a man saw you naked, but for some reason that wasn't the case now. The desire to have Lewis eat you out was much bigger than any insecurity you may have. You grow impatient already just thinking about it and you feel your pussy clenching around nothing. He notices.

“I’m going to eat this pretty pussy.”

“Please.” You say immediately, eager to feel his tongue on your most sensitive spot.

He pulls you closer to the edge of the counter and gets on his knees, holding onto your shaky legs. You played this scenario in your head over and over again so many times, and you craved to see it finally happen. You really need to see him.

Standing up a little, you think you might just pass out. There he was, propped between your legs, licking a fat stripe of your pussy. He makes eye contact then and moans, connecting his lips to your puffy clit and sucking, hard.

Your body twitches on instinct and you whimper, pushing your needy pussy into his face. He moans and starts licking up and down your cunt, pushing his tongue inside you from time to time.

“Yes… Just like that.” You manage to say.

He’s hungrily lapping at your cunt like he hadn’t eaten in days, collecting all your sweet essence with his eager mouth. You can’t help but yelp a little when you feel two of his thick, long fingers pushing inside your tight pussy. It stings a little, but he doesn’t let you adjust, instead he pushes them deeper and curls them, making your eyes roll and your jaw drop.

“Oh my god." You gasp, arching your back so hard that you think it might break in half. His mouth is still attached to your sensitive clit, pressing torturous licks on it.

He pulls away a little bit, looking at how his two fingers push in and out of you, all shiny with your juices. His darkened eyes were glued to your pussy, like he was hypnotized by the sight. And he was. Suddenly, his eyes snap to yours and you think you’d never seen something hotter in your entire life.

“Look at you, baby… Hear the sounds your pretty pussy is making for me? You’re so fucking wet.” He humms and gives your puffy clit a sharp slap, fucking his fingers faster inside you.

You scream his name, like you always dreamed of doing. You’re desperately trying to hump his hand to get more, already feeling the familiar tightness in your lower stomach building rapidly. He doesn’t like that, so he quickly pushes your hips down with his free hand, keeping you in place. You don’t get to protest, because then he curls his fingers right on your g-spot, having your body tense immediately. You’re almost breathless and trashing your tiny body on his counter, and when he gets his hand on you and starts to flick your clit with rapid movements, you know you’re done for.

“That’s it. Cum all over my fingers like a good girl.”

You don’t hear anything for a few seconds after that. Your ears are tingling, your toes are curling and your whole body is shaking violently. Your orgasm washes over you in an instant, your pussy clenching down on his two fingers.

While you’re busy trying to catch your breath, he doesn’t stop. He continues to fuck you with his fingers, a bit slower now, and he reattached his mouth to your pussy, licking it slowly.

Feeling overstimulated, you immediately jerk away from his touch, twitching uncontrollably.

“N-no… too much!” You whimper, pushing his head back.

“Mm.” He slowly removes his fingers, and you feel yourself clenching around nothing. He’s chasing a trail of cum that your pussy is pushing out with his tongue and moans. “Such a sweet pussy. Sweetest I’ve ever had.” He praises.

You don’t say anything. Mostly because you can’t. Your whole body feels like jelly, still shaky from the powerful orgasm you just had. But you knew he wasn’t done with you yet. No, he gets up and grabs your chin forcefully, smashing your lips together. You can taste yourself on his lips and it makes your head spin and your pussy leak. Again.

When he finally pulls away, he takes a moment to look at your fucked out expression and humms, licking his lip.

“Was it good, bunny?” A smirk creeps out on his face.

“Yes…” You reply, the shyness taking place in you again as you batt your eyelashes at him.

“Good…” He whispers softly, tugging slowly on your bottom lip. “God, I want to fuck you so bad right now.”

God, the things this man makes you feel. He just fucked you stupid with his mouth and fingers and now he wants to fuck your pussy? It had to be a dream.

You want to take advantage of this moment for as long as you can.

“Fuck me, Lewis. I want it.”

The way you just look up at him so innocently but so seductive at the same time, with lips swollen, slightly messy hair and smudged mascara, makes his dick twitch. It isn’t the first time he’s rock hard for you though. No. You never knew this, but he had his eyes on you too. For the past few months, at race weekend, everytime he’d see you, you’d have him losing his mind. Walking around in short skirts and crop tops, or those lovely sundresses you adore so much. It made his dick throb, and he had to make up some excuses a few times just to run back to his driver’s room and touch himself. But he wasn’t only attracted to you because of those things. Your energy captivated him completely, and he knew he wasn’t the only one dreaming about having you. He wasn’t blind, nor stupid. He saw the way the other younger drivers or random people in the pit crew looked at you. How they smiled at you or tried to make you laugh, subtly touching you. It made him feral.

Toto was his boss. They go way back. Lewis admired your father, in many ways, and the bond they formed through working together was tight, for sure. He knew about the stupid rule he had for you, about dating or messing around with the drivers, and he respected that. Up until recently, when he started looking at you in a different light, and the rule suddenly frustrated him deeply. He never had a problem staying away from you. The need to protect you was the only thing on his mind. Then he started to finally see you.

How smart you were, how much joy you bring when you walk into a room. How everyone stops to look or listen to you when you talk. How adventurous you are and openly emotional without a care about what other people might think of you. The way you’re always there for people, the warmth you possess. Your unintentional seductiveness. Your charm.

Now, he had you exactly where he wanted. He wasn’t sure at first if he should tell you that he heard your sweet sounds when you masturbated to the thought of him, but he became desperate. All he needed was confirmation that you felt the same way about him as he felt about you. And he got it. He wasn’t gonna let you slip away this time. And he was done thinking about how complicated the situation is with your father.

Grabbing at your hand, he helps you get off the counter. You look at him confused, scared that he might realize that everything was a mistake and he’d changed his mind. But the thought quickly vanishes when he starts kissing your neck and nipping at your skin, lifting your shirt with his hands.

“I’m not gonna fuck you in a kitchen. My sweet baby deserves a bed, no?” His raspy voice sends goosebumps on your skin and you nod, letting him walk you backwards to his room, as he finally manages to get rid of the only material left on your body.

When you get to his room, he carefully pushes you on the bed, with him on top. The cold air in the room hits your sensitive flesh and makes your nipples harden. Licking your lips, you raise your head from the soft pillow to look at him. His gaze is darkened and his bottom lip sits between his teeth, pulling at it desperately, like he was trying so hard to keep his control. You wanted him to lose it. All of it.

“Please, Lewis… Fuck me. Wanted this for so long.” A whine escapes your lips and you pout, caging his body between your legs as your legs wrap tightly around his torso.

Your confession made him groan. He wanted to keep this moment in his memory forever. How needy you are begging for him to fuck you, how pretty you looked all spread out on his bed, with your hair tousled on his pillow, your lips puffy from his kisses and your eyes glossy and dazed.

Finally, he gets rid of the shorts he was wearing, pulling them off along with his boxers. You're left speechless as you shamelessly stare at his very erect cock. It's thick and you can spot a few angry veins almost popping, running up towards the head. It's standing proud and tall glued to his pelvis, almost reaching his belly button, and it has your mouth water.

He notices how you stare at him with your cheeks flushed and your lip between your teeth and smirks, tapping your thigh a few times to get your attention.

"What's wrong, baby?"

"It's so big..."

"Yeah? Never had a real man before, princess?" He asks, raising your leg to his shoulder and pressing soft kisses on your soft skin while maintaining eye contact with you.

You shake your head timidly.

"Gonna make you feel so good. You trust me?"

"Yes." You respond immediately, squirming under him.

"Just hold on for a sec. I gotta have some condoms in here." He lets go of your leg and leans towards his nightstand to search for the condoms.

"W-wait." You stopped him, pressing a hand to his chest. You were anxious when your next words left your lips. "I... I'm clean, and on birth control, so if you want, there's no need for that."

He turned his head to look at you and stopped in his tracks.

"Want me to fuck you bare, bunny?" He reached a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear and looked at you lovingly, with a grin on his face.

"Mhm." You mumbled, nodding your head. "If that's okay with you, of course!" You rushed the words out.

"I'm more than okay with that." He hummed, caressing your hip with his thumb. "Come 'ere."

He pulled you lower on the bed and leaned forward, gripping your cheeks and smashing his lips with yours. He kisses you slow at first, taking his time to taste you. Then, as his hands start to explore your naked body, it turns wild. You feel dizzy as you wrap your hands around his neck to bring him even closer and your hot bodies stick to each other. It feels so intimate, you've never experienced something like this with someone before. His erection is standing right between your legs and it makes you raise your hips eagerly. You want him inside already.

"So eager." He whispers and smirks, pulling away a bit.

You glance down and lick your lips as he lines himself up, watching him tap your clit a few times with his cock, then pushing his head through your sensitive folds to collect all your juices. It sends jolts of electricity through your body and you whimper, spreading yourself a bit more. When he finally slides in, it's so overwhelming that you let your mouth hang open with a loud moan. The stretch is stinging a lot, but there's another sensation that comes with it that makes it so pleasurable at the same time.

Lewis watches you carefully and stills his movements, to let you adjust to his size. Your eyebrows are slightly furrowed as you try to relax as much as you can to accomodate your thight walls around him. Once you feel the pain diminuate a bit you nod your head, letting him know that he can move further.

He slips in a little more then and lets himself moan at the heavenly feeling of your bare, tight pussy squeezing him tightly.

"Doing sooo good, baby. Taking me like a pro." He praises, moving your damp hair out of your face.

He bottoms out inside you and you whimper. He's so deep that you could swear you felt it in your stomach, but you want more.

As if he could read your mind, he slowly pulls out a bit then pushes himself inside again, making you let out tiny mewls and moans as you got to feel every ridge and vein of his cock. Lewis humms and buries his face in your neck, leaving wet, hot kisses all over it before going down to your breasts and taking one of them in his mouth and swirling his tongue around your hard, sensitive nipple. He starts to thrust his hips in a steady rhythm while taking your other breast in his mouth and all you can do is arch your back and whine, overwhelmed by the intense feeling.

"So fucking tight." He hissed, leaning back to grab your thighs and lift them on his shoulders, the new position allowing him to hit your spot better. You felt so full of him, and you were ready to cry from the pleasure.

"Lewis." You let out a loud moan and touch his abs, scratching them as he suddenly surprises you with a rougher pace that makes you roll your eyes back and let out a cry.

“Shit.” He curses, groaning when he feels your pussy clench around his fat cock. “Thought about fucking this pretty pussy every single day lately. And now look at you, all fucked out on my bed.”

His words make your head spin. You had no idea he thought about this just like you did, so many times.

“Y-you thought about me?” You manage to ask between moans, looking down for a second to catch a glimpse of his dick sliding in and out of you at a fast pace.

He went in for a messy kiss then pulled back a little, looking at you with half closed eyes. “You have no idea.” He mutters, grabbing your neck softly.

The sounds in the room are intoxicating. It’s filled with heavy breaths, moans, skin slapping repeatedly and the filthy sound of your impossibly wet pussy getting filled to the brim by Lewis. Your gaze is locked with his and it feels like there’s just the two of you left in this world. Nothing matters anymore. Not your dad, not your age gap, nothing. It’s so intense and intimate that it almost has your heart burst out of your chest.

Your thighs are trembling as he folds them to your chest, and your hands are frantically searching for something to grip onto, while incoherent sounds are dripping off your lips.

“You wanna cum, princess?” He asks, smirking down at you.

“Yes! Yes, please please don’t stop.” You beg, shaking your head as short screams leave your mouth.

He’s quick to drag a hand down to your pussy and starts rubbing your clit harshly with his thumb to force your release. The added pleasure makes you pulsate rapidly around his cock and you find yourself arching your back off the mattress again, struggling to breathe as your orgasm is nearing quickly.

“Come on, want you to make a mess on this cock, baby. Can you do that for me?”

You nod your head pathetically and yelp when he pinches your swollen clit, letting out a loud cry as your orgasm washes over you. It hits you so quickly and so violently that it makes your breath get stuck and your eyes squeeze shut while your legs are uncontrollably shaking. Your juices are dripping down Lewis’s cock and onto the mattress underneath you, and it’s a sight to die for as he watches it all happen.

“Good girl. Did so good f’ me.” He coos, but doesn’t stop the movements of his hips, although he slows down a bit to let you come down from your orgasm.

When you open your eyes to look at him, you find him already looking at you, with an enamored expression on his face. His hand is softly caressing your thigh while he is admiring the post-orgasmic glow of your skin.

Soon enough, he is picking up his pace again and you whine in discomfort and overstimulation, furrowing your brows.

“Can’t. Please. Can’t.” You squirm underneath him.

“You can, baby. Come on, just a little bit more.”

Using his arms, he spreads your legs wider so he can have more access to you. His thrusts quicken again and his fingers attaches themselves to your clit again, pressing into it in circular motions. You were squeezing him so tightly that he could barely move inside you but he pulled through, ramming his hips into yours with brutal force, trying to chase his own release.

“Oh.” You gasped and glued your eyes down to where your cunt was greedily sucking him in. Your milky essence is visible at the base of his cock and the sight is downright filthy.

“Fuck.” He grunts, also watching where you two are connected before he lunges towards you and grips your neck more tightly and yanks you forward a bit. You prop up on your elbows and look at him with wide, doe eyes, moaning uncontrollably. “Where do you want it, bunny?”

“Inside!” You respond immediately, placing one of your hands around his wrist. “Want you to come inside me. Please.”

Your eagerness to take his cum inside your tiny walls makes him shiver with enthusiasm. His tip hits your g-spot with every powerful snap of his hips and it made you part your lips in bliss. Lewis takes the opportunity to slide his tongue inside your mouth, kissing you messily. You suddenly start to feel a different kind of pressure at the pits of your stomach and you wince, pulling back from the kiss.

“Lewis… I think there’s something wrong. Feels different.” You slurred, your eyes widening in fear.

“It’s alright, baby. I’m here. Give me one more, yeah?” He grunted, flicking at your clit with his palm rapidly.

The bed is moving with the rhythm of his aggressive thrusts and you feel your muscles contract and twitch with every move. You’re fluttering around him desperately as you scratch down his back with your polished nails and he moans deeply.

“Fuck. Gonna stuff this cunt. Come on, come for me. again, baby.” You know he is close by how much you can feel him throb inside of you.

With a particularly sharp thrust your orgasm washes over you, and you scream, letting your back fall on the mattress as you squirted, your juices making a mess on both you and Lewis. The sight makes him burst instantly and he groans, throwing his head back while he stills inside of you, pumping you full of his cum.

You’ve never done this before. I mean, you definitely heard of squirting, but no one was ever able to get you to this stage. You quickly become self conscious. What if he didn’t like it? What if he found you disgusting now? Terrified, you look up to him only to find out how wrong you were. He is already looking your way, with a huge smirk on his face.

“Look at that. My girl squirted all over the place.”

You blush deeply at his words and cover your face with your hands, but he is quick to grab them and pin them to the bed around your head.

“Why are you hiding? What’s wrong?” He chuckled, amused by the childish action.

“I… I’ve never done that before.”

“Did it feel good though?” He asked with a smug grin.

“Mhm…” You bite your lip and writhe slightly, making him moan at the sudden movement.

He carefully pulls out of you and leans back on his heels, only to see both of your releases slowly drip out of your cunt. He humms and brings two fingers there to massage around your hole, and then he pushes them inside, fucking the cum back into you.

You whine and he stops, looking back at you.

“Wait here for a second, hm? I’m going to draw you a bath.”

You nod and thank him quietly, watching him lovestruck as he gets up from the bed, collects his boxers from the floor and pulls them on, then disappears to the bathroom.

Few minutes later you’re both in the tub, your back is pressed against his chest and your eyes are closed in relaxation while he is lazily running his hand through your hair.

Even though the silence is comfortable, you can’t help but start to overthink. What was he thinking about? You didn’t necessarily think he regretted what you did, but what did it mean? Was he going to ghost you after that? Act like nothing ever happened? You wouldn’t judge him, especially considering the situation with your father, but you hoped that it wouldn’t be the case. Part of you was convinced that he wouldn’t just leave you in the dark like that. That wasn’t Lewis. Could never be Lewis. But your insecurities are still eating you alive.

Then he takes you by surprise again by reading your mind. “What are you thinking about?”

“I was actually wondering what were you thinking about.” You chuckle, leaning your head back a bit to look at him. God, how can this man be so beautiful?

He smiles softly and nuzzles his nose along your cheek, pressing a sweet and tender kiss to it.

You let out a breath and sigh, closing your eyes at the sensation. “I was just asking myself… what now, I guess.” You shrugged, with a heavy heart.

He furrows his brows and grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him. “What do you want?”

You gulped and licked your lips, looking at him through your lashes. “I want you.”

“Then you have me. And you know I want you too. But it’s going to be a lot more complicated than that.” He whispers to you and you feel your heart drop on the spot, afraid of what he might be insinuating.

Noticing the broken look in your eyes, he quickly places his hands on both your cheeks and leans forward. “What I mean by that is, that we should be careful. I know keeping things a secret isn’t healthy, but giving the circumstances, I don’t think it would benefit either of us right now if someone found out about what we have going on. I promise that it won’t last forever, I would never keep you a secret, but for now that’s just the way things are.”

You take in his words. You know he is right. And you’ll take anything as long as it means that he’ll be finally yours. Even though the thought of keeping a secret like that, especially from your dad, makes you feel uneasy. But you’re so ready to give it a shot, just for him. What if everything turns out alright in the end?

“I know. And I understand.” You nodded, closing your eyes and pressing your lips against his in a tender kiss.

When you pull back, he gives you a quick wink and a smile, tapping the inside of your thigh lightly. “Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

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