#this may lead to relapse | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

secondhand-snow · 7 months

Text

a body of impulses

chapter 2: feeling like unraveling

lukas matsson x f!roy! reader (succession)

★ chapter 1 ★ | ★chapter 3★

wc: 9.0k+

warnings: super dysfunctional family, fluff first then angst, roman roy as his own warning, season 3 finale as its own warning, mentions of manipulation, drinking, smut, virgin!reader, inexperienced!reader, corruption kink (for real this time), dick pics, mention of phone sex, making out, dry humping/grinding, biting, pussyjobs, cum play/eating, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), aftercare, no use of y/n

summary: Lukas is amazing. He's tender, he's deviant, he's everything for you. But you're still worried, your family has never seen a beautiful thing that they haven't wanted to break.

author's note: chapter 2 is here, thank you for all the love on chapter 1! i hope you love it as much as i loved writing it ♡ be warned that this is heavy on the plot of episodes 3.08 and 3.09, so if you haven't watched the full show you may get a bit lost. please consider liking, commenting, or reblogging if you enjoyed!

You have a tendency to get anxious when things are good for too long. A few weeks without a family fight, a month without a scandal, half a year without Kendall relapsing; nice things usually end in flames in your family. They make you superstitious, always looking around the corner for something to jump out and fuck everything up. So, when Lukas is good, you get scared. You expect some kind of backhand. A threat of blackmail, a tweet exposing your promiscuity, a package of anthrax at your door.

It never comes.

He calls you every night, your timezone, not his. Listens to you talk about your day and doesn’t press when you can’t give him details on the company. He loves to send you pictures, just of him doing the most mundane things. Lukas on a Zoom meeting, Lukas working out, Lukas eating dinner. Together, you fall into something almost domestic. It’s still a secret. You don’t open his messages in public, stay far away from any conversations about him at work that could lead a blush to your face. But when has anything in your life been completely honest?

He’s been begging for a while now to fly you out to Sweden. You know it’s a risk you shouldn’t take at the moment, but you entertain him anyway. When you ask why he wants to see you so badly, he says he misses you. Then he says he wants to fuck you on his desk.

That almost convinces you, and you’re about to start packing when a roadblock emerges. Your dad asks you to come with him and your siblings to Italy, for Caroline’s wedding. You hadn’t been planning on going, she wasn’t your mom and you didn’t have much of a relationship with her. In fact, you actually thought she secretly hated you, something to do with how quickly Logan married your mom after their divorce. Regardless, you didn’t want to go to the wedding. But when Logan Roy calls, you come. Always.

So the bags were repacked and you found yourself on a different private jet with your siblings, once again at the mercy of your family.

“She’s probably in sexual thrall to him. He’s driving her wild with his sugar dick.” Siobhan spoke matter of factly, completely oblivious to how absurd her words sounded. Still, it wasn’t the strangest conversation of hers you’d walked in on. “So there’s nothing we can do.”

Roman was perched across the aisle from Tom and Shiv, sitting oddly in his seat, running his hand through his hair while he spoke. “All right, fine. Let him kill her for her emeralds and… screw us out of the fucking firm. See if I care.”

“Mommy issues?” You spoke up, setting your bag down on a free seat before moving to lean over the back of Shiv’s chair, kneeling on the seat behind it.

“Always. I didn’t know you were coming?” Rome turns to address you, eyebrows coming together in question.

“Dad drafted me. I think he just wants to terrorize Caroline with my presence.”

“I think you torment her enough by just existing. She doesn’t get to be the perfect mother of Logan Roy’s prodigal children.” Shiv pitched in, finally acknowledging your presence with a little smile.

“I don’t think I’m even invited to all the events. He’s just gonna have me working on the GoJo deal the whole time.”

“Oh! About the deal, I was talking to Karl and Frank-” Tom is addressing Roman more than you, but still gives you the courtesy of eye contact before your brother cuts him off.

“Yeah, no, you’re not really a part of that. Either of you, actually.” Rome nods his head to the couple, a smirk on his face charged by his current power trip.

“Well, I am.” Shiv interjects, annoyed.

“Well, I can’t fire you yet Shiv, because I’m still a little bit scared of you. But, my thinking is, when I take over, I’m gonna put you in the office next to mine and you’re gonna be my sexy secretary.” You just shake your head at Roman’s comment while he turns to head back to his seat.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Siobhan is more irritated than really upset, going back to her phone as Roman leaves the conversation.

“I dunno. We’re working on it.” He taps the back on his legs in a rhythm before sitting down. “Ongoing process.”

You address Tom, seeing the confusion in his eyes that people tend to get when talking to your brother. “We’re just working on outlining terms. Honestly, Gerri would be better to ask for specifics. I don’t know how much Dad wants me to say.”

Tom just nods in thanks, which you return with a small smile before heading to your seat. You’re across the aisle from Roman, who’s already curled up and ready to nap on the flight. Taking out your phone, you see a new message from Lukas, covertly labeled in your phone with just an “L.” You turn the screen away from your company, making sure to not catch the reflection in the window as you open his text.

Stockholm is a 4 hour flight to Italy.

Is it? I’ll be in the air for at least 10 hours.

10 hours without talking to you?

I think you can manage it.

I don’t know about Italy. I can’t be held responsible for what I do when I’m in the same country as you.

It’s a risk.

Will there be a reward?

…I’ll text you when we land.

He sends a picture of himself doing a kissing face. You send a heart emoji in response, hiding your face with your hand to conceal your smile.

It turns out that you were invited to a few events of Lady Caroline’s wedding. Not the ceremony, of course, but at least you were allowed to attend the receptions leading up to it. You weren’t going to be cooped up in a hotel room all weekend, signing documents and having Facetime sex with your not-boyfriend. In fact, you ended up at one of these events just a little after your arrival, a garden party full of snobby aristocrats and expensive champagne. It’s too hot out for your liking, you're already sweating in your semi-formal sundress and downing your second glass of cold bubbly.

You end up with Shiv, partially blocked from the sun by the shadow of her hat, quietly snickering at her and Tom’s jokes about a clueless cousin Greg. It’s surprisingly calm for one of your family gatherings, no shouting or challenging or worse. The tranquility snaps like a twig with a ding on your phones.

“Uh- Matsson…” Shiv speaks first, the two of you pulling out your phones simultaneously, her angling her screen to share it with Tom. A message from Karolina leads you to Matsson’s twitter page, and his latest tweet. It’s a goofy gif of his face with a Snapchat filter on it, the text reading ‘Going to Macao, feeling lucky.” You’re half excited, half alarmed. You don’t really know if you should believe it at first but, against your better judgment, you hope it’s true. Hope he’s just an hour or two from you, the closest he’s been in weeks.

“What? Going to Macao? Feeling lucky?” Tom squints against the sun to see the Tweet before pulling out his own phone. “The fuck is that?”

“You get this thing from Karolina? It’s off the radar and now this? Is this- is it a move?” Gerri’s entrance is quick, followed closely behind by Roman. You open your mouth and close it again, not sure if your words will betray your duplicity.

“It, um, it could be…could be nothing, you know? Fucking social media fireworks!” Roman’s hand is threaded through his hair, the silver watch on his wrist glinting in the light.

“‘Going to Macao, feeling lucky.’” Gerri repeats the four words, she’s as flabbergasted as everyone in this little Waystar circle. Business has once again interfered with pleasure. “Is he trying to boost his price?”

“Is he just rocking the boat?” Shiv’s voice is unsure, wavering from her usual monotone state. “Or trying to blow up the deal? I mean, has he got good subscriber numbers coming in?”

“Maybe he’s just going to Macao and he’s feeling lucky.” Tom chimes in as Rome steps away from the group, phone pressed to his ear in a call you can’t fully hear.

“I mean, yeah… It’s not out of his archetype to post something like this.” You shrug, not sure what to contribute that hasn’t already been said.

Roman finishes his call, turning back to you to speak. “I don’t know, it’s like, his thing. He’s a- a trickster.”

“Okay. Well, sounds cool. Is he gonna, like, steal our watches and fucking saw the deal in half?” Shiv’s getting upset, you know she likes control and she’s too far removed from this deal to do anything about Matsson’s stunts.

“Maybe!”

“You’re supposed to be inside this Rome!”

“Hey, it’s gonna be fine. Mattson’s not stupid, he wouldn’t deliberty fuck this deal and announce it to the world on Twitter.” You’re trying to reason with your siblings, though it’s not really working. Roman mostly ignores you, Siobhan rolls her eyes. Atleast Gerri and Tom look somewhat appreciative for your input.

“I am inside, Leave it.”

You’re done with the dialogue, done with being the peacemaker and getting stepped over by your narcissistic siblings. You throw your hands up, phone held in one and the other in a flat palm to signify your retreat before you walk away from the cluster. You hear Greg say something behind you but don’t bother to answer him, instead moving to find a quiet place far away from your siblings.

You end up in a corner somewhere, mostly blocked by trees and bushes, a little cubby hole you hoped was private enough to not be listened in on. Your fingers nimbly click through the apps on your phone, pausing briefly before pressing the call button on Lukas’s contact. It rings once, twice. Then, an answer.

“When are you coming over? Should I send you a helicopter?”

“Macao?” Your voice is higher than normal, laced in shock and thrill.

“Closer than we’ve been in weeks.” The smile is apparent in his voice, he’s pleased with himself, you hate it. And love it.

“You’re fucking insane. I didn’t think you were serious!”

“Yeah, I am. I’ll send my jet over.”

“Oh my God, I still cannot believe you. I can’t- my family is on high alert after your little rogue Tweet.” You laugh, not really mad at him, just eager and amazed.

“Oh come on, that was nothing.”

“It was a play to keep them on guard and you know it.”

“Well, partially. It’s for the numbers too. And for your attention.”

“It’s so hard to be away from you when you do shit like this…”

“Oh yeah? You miss me?” It’s a taunt, he knows the truth even if you deny it. So, you’re honest.

“You know I do.”

“Mmm… I miss you too. Keep thinking about what I’ll do when I see you again.”

“Lukas… I’m in public…” You can’t help but glance around, be sure you’re alone when he starts talking like this. His plan is already so clear to you.

“So you don’t want me to tell you about all the ways I’ll fuck you?”

“... Don’t do this to me now.”

“It’ll be just us in this house. I’ll take you wherever I want to. You can scream as loud as you want, don’t have to be worried about someone hearing.” His voice drops, there’s a small rustling on the phone. His words shoot straight to your core, a sensation beginning to form there.

“I’m at a fucking wedding party and you’re getting me turned on. You’re evil.”

“You love it.” You pause a moment, taking a deep breath and steeling yourself before responding.

“I’ll call you tonight. Please be careful.”

He chuckles.“I will.”

When you hang up, your text thread with Lukas is immediately graced with a photo of his dick, hard and gripped tightly in his fist. It makes you inhale sharply, curse under your breath at the growing need between your thighs. You text him back, simply writing “Fuck you.” before clicking your phone off. It takes you a few minutes of breathing exercises, but you’re able to calm your desire and soothe the blush in your cheeks before returning to the party.

Nobody asks where you went, nobody even really cared that you were gone. You can blame it on Connor’s show of making a proposal, or Matsson’s antics occupying everyone’s minds, but this is how it always is with you. The good child. The innocent daughter. Forever right where she needs to be, never in anyone’s way, constantly willing to help. You disappear when you aren’t wanted, you emerge only when you’re useful. The perfect loyalist, somehow being turned to a deserter.

Lukas leaves Monaco before you can sneak away to see him. You know it’s for the better, but it’s still a disappointment. You resign to finish the family trip and visit Sweden as soon as you get home to New York, going along with the planned events, a false smile plastered on your face. It’s during Caroline’s bachelorette in Cortona when your plans change. You were nursing a glass of wine, silencing your discontent at the rooftop bar when Gerri approached you.

She dragged you around to speak with Roman, revealing that your Dad had once again put you on babysitting duty. Logan wanted Rome to go talk to Mattson at his house in Switzerland, and wanted you to keep him in line. He couldn’t trust Roman to not fuck the deal, but he didn’t want you to speak to Mattson alone. So, you were recruited to accompany Rome. Speak just enough to stop him from saying something stupid, but not enough to draw attention. It was a game you were good at, one you had been practicing since youth. You were loyal to a fault, and Logan always used it to his advantage.

Lukas is ecstatic when you tell him you’re coming. Less so when he learns Roman is accompanying you, but still thrilled. You ask him for discretion, first nicely and then sternly. You can’t afford to make your relationship, whatever it is, public. He knows this too, knows what your family would do if they found out, but can’t help teasing. It’s only a day after Logan’s request that you board a helicopter, headed to Lake Maggiore. Headed to Lukas.

Roman is oddly quiet on the flight, constantly on his phone or looking out the window, eyes blank. You know him well enough to see the anxiety clouding his mind, feel the nervous energy radiating off his body. You reach over to him and hold his hand. He looks annoyed. He doesn’t drop it. You squeeze his fingers gently, he returns the motion, lets you quietly comfort him until you land.

Lake Maggiore is beautiful, surrounded by the Alps and lush vegetation, villas and lake homes dotting the shores of the water. You move straight from the helicopter to a boat, which immediately takes off at high speeds, skating over the surface of the lake. The wind fucks up your hair, blows up the skirt of your sundress, almost makes you loose your sunglasses. When you finally dock, you quickly pull out your phone, using it as a mirror to fix your smudged makeup and windswept hair before your host arrives. Roman gives you a weird look, silently judging you for putting effort into your appearance. As if he doesn’t spend hours in front of the mirror every morning styling his hair to look perfectly imperfect.

When Lukas’s frame finally emerges from the hedges of his property, you have to bite your lower lip to hide your smile. He’s so himself, wearing sweatpants and a plain t-shirt, not bothering with real shoes, just a pair of casual slip-ons. It almost hurts to see him and not be able to immediately kiss him. Jesus, your inner monologue sounds like something from a cheesy rom-com. You feel so love-struck, it makes you crinkle your nose in embarrassment.

The boat is tied up to the dock now, Roman perched on the side trying to make it onto solid land. The waves rock the vehicle back and forth, knocking him off balance and ruining his attempt at disembarking.

“Do you want me to hold your hand?” Lukas has one hand in his pocket, the other reached out to Rome, close enough for him to grab. If he wanted to. “Come on, I’ll hold your hand.”

“Piss off.” Roman swats his hand away, finally moving off the boat with a small jump. You move, taking his place on the edge of the boat. It’s a bit unsteady, but you manage getting on to the dock in just a few seconds. You shoot a smug smile at Roman before following the two of them up some steps, away from the water and onto Lukas’s yard.

“It’s nice to see you again, man.” Roman speaks first, breaking the silence that had fallen over you three.

“Yeah, yeah. Long time.” Lukas has his usual posture, slightly hunched and lanky, with his hands in his pockets nonchalantly.

“This is an amazing place!” Rome looks around, you continue to follow him and Lukas through the lawn, letting them lead you as you observe.

“Yeah...”

“No?”

“I don’t know, it kind of freaks me out, to be honest.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“When I got it, I wanted everything to be perfect.” You climb a few steps, the group arriving at an outdoor pool area, lined with shrubs and facing the lake. “Now I’m sleeping on a camping mat until I get a deep dive on the best mattress in the world. It’s great- it’s great. I’m just not feeling great. I mean… I’m fine… Well, but, not really.”

You frown at his words. You want to reach out, hold his hand, touch his back, do something to comfort him. But it would be too obvious, too impulsive. Instead you nod sympathetically, catching his gaze for a moment.

“Maybe let’s leave the little feeley-feelings out of it. Cause I’m gonna give you nothing. Nothing!” Roman’s half joking. He hates emotions, tries to diffuse bad ones with humor, even if it feels inappropriate.

“Roman.” Your tone is a warning, pushing your sunglasses back on your head to give him a glare before turning to Lukas. “I get it. You want the best, but you don’t realize how boring perfection is when you always have it.”

“Yeah, yeah. Success.. It doesn’t interest me anymore. It’s too easy. It’s fucking… anyone can do it. Analysis plus capital plus execution. But failure… that’s a secret.” Lukas is looking at you like you’re the only person in the world when he speaks. Sometimes he thinks you can see into his soul, you somehow know him better than anyone. He takes his sunglasses off, using the collar of his shirt to hold them. His blue eyes look directly into yours.“What are you worst at?”

“Well… I… am never telling you any of my weaknesses. Ever. Never, ever, ever.” Roman breaks into the conversation again, disrupts the eye contact between you two. “And I won’t let her tell you any either. Stuff a sock in her mouth, a ball gag or something.”

“That’s smart.”

“I know, I am smart.”

“Cause I ream people. Juice em like oranges. I get way too into people, and they disappoint me.” He looks at Roman when he says that, but you can’t help but take his words as a warning. Things moved fast between you and Lukas, you’ve barely known him for a few weeks and were already opening your heart to him. Letting him into your mind, letting him rearrange the furniture there like he owns it. “Hey, I’m thinking of doing like a- quarterly up and outs at the company.”

“Oh, yeah. Firing people is like, 85% of why I get up in the morning.” Roman shrugs when he talks, moving to take his sunglasses off and hold them in his hand. “But, uh.. I do want to ask you about that tweet, if you don’t mind.”

“Oh the…” Lukas laughs, looks at you, back to Roman. He makes a face, sticking out his tongue to mimic the Snapchat filter on his tweet. “That one.”

“Yeah. Seriously, yes. You got like, big shit coming your way?” Rome uses his free hand to run his fingers through his hair.

“...Are you- are you asking me for material nonpublic information?” Lukas’s grin is lopsided, he’s testing the two of you, seeing how far you’re really going to go.

“Maybe. Were you trying to get your share price up by tweeting unverifiable information outside of normal disclosure channels?” You cut in, raising your eyebrows at him, tilting your head in a way a little too close to flirting. Roman smiles at that, watches you exercise your knowledge like a proud father.

Lukas’s voice is mocking, a fake sad cartoon tone coming over it. “No, you’re not allowed to do that.” He moves his hands to his eyes, pretending to wipe his tears. “So mean.”

“Do you want this deal? Are you into it… like, at all?” Roman asks next. You’ve moved a bit from your area at the pool, following Matsson as he slowly circles the water.

“Yeah, I am. I’m just a little Swedish, you know? I’m.. into equality.” He moves nonchalantly, like this deal isn’t as serious as it is. “I like getting into bed with people, but I also like to share it equally.”

“More of a merge than a takeover.” It isn’t a question, and it isn’t directed at Lukas. You turn to Roman as you say it, verbalizing what you both were thinking. Lukas just hums, doesn’t articulate a response. Even though you all know what it would be.

“Okay. We’re just… heading to Milan to lock things down with our Dad and the bankers. And the tweet- it just didn’t feel great. If you’re hoping to blow this whole thing up, just tell me, okay?” Roman’s anxiety is back, you can see it in the tense way he’s started to move, in the higher tone of his voice.

“I just want to get myself the best. Of everything.” Lukas looks at you when he says it, darts his tongue out to lick his bottom lip. Roman’s too lost in his own head to notice it, or notice the way your breath catches in your throat.

“Yeah, I fucking get that. Definlety.” Roman moves to pull out his phone, cursing under his breath when he reads a notification. “I uh- have to take a call really quickly. I’ll be in the boat, it shouldn’t take too long. Okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll give her a tour.” Lukas shrugs, sounding indifferent. Rome nods at him, then you, and quickly takes off towards the dock, already lifting the phone up to his ear as he walks.

You watch him leave, round the corner and leave your line of vision before turning to Lukas, face neutral save for a hint of a smile. He’s less composed than you, smiling broadly and staring into your eyes. He walks closer to you, wraps his arm around the small of your back.

“Wanna show me around?” You raise your eyebrows in question, slightly rocking back and forth on your feet. He sighs quietly, nods, and moves to extend an arm for you to hold.

“There’s really not much to see. Your average rich person house.” You hold his arm, walking with him into the villa as he speaks.

The interior is nice. Well, you’re sure it cost several million dollars to furnish, but that was the standard you were used to. It’s Italian inspired with a few modern elements. You take note of the high end appliances everywhere you go. A thousand dollar air purifier, a ten thousand dollar toilet, a hundred thousand dollar refrigerator. Lukas really did want the best for himself. The downstairs looks strangely perfect, like there wasn’t really anyone living there. Everything is clean and immaculate, no traces of human life. This trend continues into the upstairs, only stopping when he shows you the primary bedroom. His bedroom.

It’s simply decorated, a bed, desk, dresser. A large TV mounted on the wall across from his bed, nightstands, some artwork on the walls. There are a few large windows on the farthest side of the room, offering a view to the lake. Most things are black, or gray, with a few navy blue accents here and there. You had slipped off your shoes when walking around the house, now you let the fall to the floor from dangling on your finger. Stepping into the room, you walk until you round the bed, seeing a camping sleep matt rolled up and leaning on a wall. The sight brings a little smile to your face before you turn to Lukas’s desk, fingers grazing softly against the wood of it.

He has a Macbook laying on it, a pair of over-ear headphones sitting next to it. There’s a cup with a few pencils and pens, a box of tissues. It’s not much, but it’s something. Above his desk sit a few wall mounted bookshelves, made of the same wood. The books on them are mostly motivational, shit that he definitely hasn’t read. One thing does catch your eye though, an older coding textbook written in Swedish. It looks worn, the spine cracked and the pages wrinkled. Your fingers move to trace along the row of books, following them until the shelf ends and you meet the wall behind it.

“I like it. Very you.” You move your gaze back to Lukas, who’s been leaning in the doorway, watching you explore.

“Very me?”

“It’s exactly what I pictured.” You walk up to him as he steps inside, right at the foot of the bed, just a few inches apart. “Have you really been sleeping on a mat on the floor?”

“Yeah…” You wrap your hands around the back of his neck as his sentence trails off and he moves to grab your hips, closing the distance between you.

“Lukas, just sleep on the mattress. Your back is gonna get all fucked up.”

“Probably. I just- I don’t trust it. I want something I know is good, you know?” His reasoning makes you roll your eyes.

“It’s better than a camping mat.”

“Hey- that’s the best camping mat money can buy.”

Your hand moves to cup his face, bringing him to you and planting a light kiss on his mouth. He tries to deepen it, follows your face when you pull away, looks like a sad puppy when you deny him.

“So you haven’t used the mattress at all…?” You smirk, quirking your eyebrows teasingly.

“Not yet…” Lukas grins, his eyes traveling from yours to your lips. “Why? Do you wanna help me break it in?”

You don’t answer, just smile, roll your eyes playfully, and move away from him. You turn so your back is facing the bed, and with all the drama you can muster, flop down onto the mattress. It cushions your fall nicely, though you do get left a bit breathless and giggly. Your knees dangle off the side of the bed, feet almost grazing the ground as you kick your legs.

“It’s really not bad.” You don’t bother raising your head, just direct your words to him knowing he’ll hear. “Not the best, but definitely ‘trustworthy.’” Laughing when he sighs in response, you throw your arms up and stretch theatrically.

You feel a hand on your knee, spreading your thighs wider apart. He slots himself between your legs, moves his hand to your waist, and pulls you quickly to him. The bed is high enough that your hips meet each other roughly, a gasp escaping your mouth at the sudden pressure on your vulva. Lukas is already half hard, and making the most subtle movements to grind you perfectly against his cock.

“Lukas… Roman is just outside…” You’re already a bit breathless, still allowing him to rub against you as you speak. He leans close to you, tall frame bending at the waist to brush his lips against your ear, still keeping his hips flush to your as he moves.

“I guess we’ll have to be quick then.” He places a kiss to your jawline, starting a messy trail down your neck. Lukas pauses to nip the slope of your shoulder. “And you’ll have to be quiet.”

He lifts his head, eyes staring straight into yours, and waits for your response. Your lips are already parted, breath coming quick and cheeks flushed with desire. The lust clouds your judgment, as it always seems to do with Lukas. Impulse takes over and, with a hand threaded into his hair, you pull his mouth to yours roughly.

It’s rushed and powerful. All teeth and tongue, no time for being gentle, no time for romantics. You bite his lip, he groans into your open mouth. Your legs move around his hips, keeping his body close as he ruts against your clothed core. His movements started soft and teasing, but now he’s fully thrusting against you, rough and wanting. It feels hard and hot, has your eyes shutting and your mouth whimpering. You love being close to him like this, hearing his panting in your ear, his lips on your throat, his chest pressed to yours. But it’s not quite enough.

“Fuck Lukas, I need more.” He pulls his head from his attack on your throat, looks at you with a grin on his face.

“You need more?” You nod, a little frantically with a small hum. “Look at you, asking for things. Tell me what you want.”

You’re a bit hesitant, cheeks still red from the vulgarity of your situation. Your mouth opens and then closes again, biting your lower lip as you try to find the right words. His hand comes to your chin, fingers pressing into your cheeks as he forces your eye contact with him.

“Tell me what you want.”

“I just want to feel you- really feel you.” Honestly, you don’t know exactly what you want. You’re so needy, you can feel how uncomfortably wet you’ve gotten and just need some kind of satisfaction. “You can fuck me.”

He shakes his head, still smiling. “No, not yet. I have plans for that, it’ll be special.” His words are a little shocking, but turn you on even more.

“Please Lukas. I need you.” Your voice is barely a whisper, laced with want. The motion of his hips has stopped and you feel yourself desperately grind yourself against him for some relief. His hands move to your hips to hold you in place, releasing the grip on your chin.

“I’m not taking your virginity in a quickie where I can’t even get you naked. And you need to be able to walk after this.” He moves and pushes your dress up, exposing the lower half of your body. “Here you’ll like this.”

Your panties are soaked. His gaze moves down and he notices, gives a small chuckle, runs a finger up your clothed slit. It makes you shudder and whine deeply in your throat as a response. Hooking a finger around both sides of your panties, he pulls the fabric off with one quick motion, dropping them to the floor when he’s finished. He moves from between your thighs briefly, causing you to instinctively shut your legs. Lukas pulls down his pants then, just enough to expose his cock, hard and leaking already.

He moves back, uses a hand to gently spread your legs as the other grips the base of his cock. He’s so close, his dick hovering just above your cunt. Your eyes go wide with anticipation, a light gasp escapes from your lips. Then, Lukas moves. His hips angle downwards and, using his hand to guide his cock, he gently rubs his length over your slit. The feeling is immediately intense. It’s wet and strong and burning, and when his tip touches your clit you swear your vision goes white. You really can’t help the moan that escapes you, it’s Lukas that caused it.

“Shhh… I know, I know. But you don’t want someone to hear.” He leans over you, presses a light kiss to your mouth and grabs one of your hands. Moving your hand over your mouth, he helps you press your palm to your lips, muffling the noises coming from your lips. You nod in response, keeping your hand there when he moves his away, gripping back on to your hips to hold you in place. “Don’t want everyone to know how I’m corrupting you.”

Another moan leaves your mouth at that, luckily much quieter due to your palm. Your free hand flys down, grips over his on your hip. He keeps moving, parting your lips and spreading wetness across your pussy, hitting your clit perfectly with each thrust. A curse leaves his throat when your back begins to arch, the white hot feeling in your cunt growing fast. You can almost feel the restraint leaving his body, feel the roll of his hips getting heavier, harsher. A tear rolls down your cheek, your eyes wet with the sheer strength of this new pleasure you’re experiencing.

“Fuck, you’re doing so good, so quiet for me.” Lukas’s accent is thicker now, his head tipping back in pleasure as he ruts against you with abandon, chasing his climax. “So fucking beautiful like this.”

That’s all it really takes for you to fall apart, cumming on his cock. Your orgasm hits in a wave, making your thighs shake and eyes squeeze shut in ecstasy. You’re incredibly glad for the hand on your mouth as it muffles the high moan that leaves your lips. You don’t see him with your eyes shut, but the groans you hear let you know that Lukas is not far behind you. A few mascara stained tears run from your eyes when you open them again, your gaze being met with Lukas’s head tilted toward the ceiling, his mouth open in pleasure.

His cock moves from your cunt, positioning over your lower stomach. His hand moves, jerking himself roughly as he looks down to meet your eyes. Your hand moves from your mouth, and you sit up a bit as you reach for him, fingers coming to rest on his hip to keep him close to you. Another low curse falls from his mouth, and with a gravely groan he cums. White ropes shoot across your stomach, resting on your skin warmly. You whimper in sympathy, watching as he twitches and bucks against his hand recklessly.

Lukas’s chest rises and falls quickly, breath coming fast and deep as his orgasm washes over him. When his eyes reopen, he’s quick to pull you up to meet his mouth with a burning kiss. The kiss isn’t long, but when you pull away he rests his forehead against yours, eyes shut and breathing slowly returning to normal. You stay that way for a while, just close and quiet. A few moments pass, and when he moves to stand back up you take the time to dart your hand down and gather up some of the cum on your pelvis, licking it off your finger as you raise it to your mouth.

He quietly laughs, blissed out and smiley. “You love that, don’t you?”

“Mhm. I don’t know- ‘just makes me feel close to you.” He kisses you again, softly this time, almost proud.

“I’m making a monster. First you ask me to fuck you and now you’re swallowing my cum.” He moves to his dresser, retrieving a hand towel as you sit on the bed, careful to not let any of his spend drip onto the sheets.

“Why didn’t you fuck me?” Your head tilts as you ask. He moves to kneel in front of you, gently wiping the cum from your skin as he answers.

“I told you, I’m gonna make it special for your first time.”

“Bold of you to assume I’ll even let you be my first time, now that you’ve rejected me.” It’s playful and he knows it, grinning up at you as he moves to wipe the wetness from the inside of your thighs.

“It wasn’t a rejection, it was a postponing.” Lukas stands, quickly cleaning off before tucking himself away and turning to look for your panties. “And who else would it be? Are you cheating on me?”

“No, but I can’t cheat on you if weren’t not together.” He pauses at that, head cocking as he makes eye contact with you.

“We aren’t together?”

“You haven’t asked me!”

“I thought it was self-evident. You don’t need to ask if it’s already obvious.” Lukas stoops to grab your panties from the floor, moving to hand them to you.

You accept the fabric in an outstretched hand, setting it on the bed next to you. “Well, I would like you to ask. Make it official.”

He gives a dramatic sigh, reaches out and grabs your hands to pull you to standing. Lukas holds your hands, smiles and looks into your eyes. “Will you date me?”

You think about teasing him, making him wait, but your excitement gets the best of you and you release your answer quickly. “Yes, I will date you, Lukas Matsson.”

Your kiss is domestic and cheesy, after you separate he pulls you back into his body, rests his chin on your head for a while while he holds you close. You end up leaving your panties with him, they're still too wet to wear comfortably. Lukas helps you fix your makeup and hair, and you check to make sure your lip gloss isn’t all over his mouth (it was). He fastens your shoes back on for you, kneeling in front of you so you don’t have to bend over with your still shaky legs. He holds your hand until you reach outside and you put some space between yourselves as you enter public once more.

Roman is just finishing his call when you get back to the boat, waving at you as he quickly hangs up. You give Lukas a handshake, Rome just shouts his goodbye from a distance, and you quickly speed off again across the lake as soon as you enter the boat. Once again separated, you swear you immediately feel heavier without Lukas’s presence.

Your brother thinks the deal is fucked, he makes that clear when you’re alone again. He half blames you, half blames himself. Either way, he’s scared shitless to tell your dad about Matsson’s merge idea. So it’s a major shock when you arrive in Milan and Logan is receptive to the proposal. He praises Roman openly for once, and even commends you on your role in negotiating the deal.

But good things don’t tend to stay good for long in your family. You know something’s wrong when Logan calls you and Shiv into his office abruptly, right before your meeting with the bankers is supposed to begin. It honestly doesn’t surprise you as much as some would think to learn Roman had been sexting Gerri. You try to defend him against Shiv’s attacks, but it doesn’t do much good, not when the evidence is sitting in front of you. At the very least, you make some kind of progress covering for Gerri, reminding your dad of her loyalty.

Things are weird and fucked the next day. The night before Comfrey had texted you to let you know that Kendall was in the hospital. She wouldn’t say what happened, just that they were keeping him overnight and he was okay. You texted your siblings but everyone was skirting around the answer with you. They knew you cared about Kendall, maybe too much, and that telling you he had nearly drowned (possibly by his own doing) would set you off like a firework.

You wanted to go visit Kendall the next day, or be there when he arrived at the villa, or just do something to help him out. But he didn’t answer your calls and all the information you were given was extremely vague. You weren’t invited to Caroline’s wedding ceremony, so you planned on staying in bed and Facetiming with Lukas all day, waiting for a response from your brother. Your day starts off that way, sleeping in and chatting with your boyfriend into the late morning, but then Lukas tells you about Gojo’s market cap. You knew he was good, you knew he was doing all he could to get the market in Gojo’s favor, but you never expected it’s worth would surpass Waystar’s.

It’s no surprise that your dad ends up calling you, recruiting you to join him on a trip to Matsson’s. When he tells you he’s considering not inviting Roman, you manage to convince him to bring him too, citing his friendship with Matsson as a cause. So you head to Lake Maggiore, again, and arrive at Lukas Matsson’s villa, again. The excitement you feel when seeing him is shrouded in the anxiety of the sudden meeting.

You feel like every glance between the two of you is obvious. The way he parts his lips, the way your eyes drift across his frame, it’s all unmistakable of two lovers.

Lukas leads the three of you to an outdoor area on his grounds and when the conversation starts, his intent is clear. He didn’t tell you he wanted to buy Waystar, well he may have hinted at it, but it still feels like a bit of a betrayal. Like a shock. Even worse of a shock, Logan doesn’t immediately hate it, not in his usual way.

“Yeah. This is not happening.” The rage isn’t there behind Logan’s words. His gaze drifts to Roman, then back to Matsson. Lukas raises his eyebrows.

“Okay, I see that. Understood. But, you want to stick around? See if the old deal still has shape? Side snacks?” Logan smiles, he actually smiles, at Matsson’s offer. “You have that Israeli AI operation I might like. Maybe an asset swap sort of thing?”

“Why not.” The eye contact between Lukas and your dad is never ending. The tension in the air could be cut with a knife. “Rome, you should head back. For your mom, and everything.”

“Yeah, sure thing.” Roman looks to you, motions with his thumb in the general direction of the dock. “Do you wanna…?”

“I’m not going to the wedding. Not invited.” You offer a small smile, look to Logan for reassurance.

“We’ll catch up with you later, Romulus.”

Roman is dejected. An intruder, again. An outsider in the deal he’s worked so hard on, the deal he partially started. “Alright. Hate to miss the big nuptials! So… yeah. I’ll just go do that then…” He’s hesitant to go, pats you on the leg as he leaves, Dad on the shoulder.

They wait to start speaking again until well after he’s left, and when they do it’s straight to business. Your dad wants to sell. Lukas wants to buy. You’re the reluctant bridge between. Things move inside, to a formal dining room, and the real discussion begins. Numbers start to fly, calls get made, lawyers begin flying out. You end up doing more work than you meant to, arguing for both GoJo and Waystar. Trying desperately to keep all the men in your life happy. At the same time, you’re conflicted. You know your siblings will hate this deal, you know how badly they want to inherit the company, how hard they’ve worked for one of them to eventually be CEO.

But the thing is, you don’t hate the deal. You were never going to lead Waystar, never going to be more than the founder’s child. You’re the youngest Roy sibling, a woman, and from a different marriage than the others. There was no chance of you ever being number one, and you knew that from the day you were born. So why not sell the company? You don’t want to dedicate your entire life to this soul crushing work. At the same time, you care so much for your family, more than you do for yourself. This would wreck your siblings, they wanted Waystar more than they wanted life itself. Even if being family owned fucks you, it means the world to them.

When you finally leave Lukas’s, it’s well past the wedding ceremony, and it’s clear Dad doesn’t intend on joining the afterparty. The operation moves to Logan’s villa. The cavalry marches in, dressed in designer suits and holding briefcases stuffed with Macbooks. There’s dozens of people you’ve never even met swarming around a huge table. It doesn’t even feel real, like you’re watching a dream, or a nightmare, play out in front of you. You retire to your dads private office, curl up on a leather upholstered couch and just think. You know you should tell your siblings. Siobhan and Roman have been blowing up your phone for hours, you haven’t had the heart to answer. Your dad would kill you if you reached out. Ostracize you like Roman, or disown you like Kendall. Your brain feels like a whirlpool, your thoughts flying around enough to give you a headache. You turn to the only person you can think of.

“Hi.”

“...”

“Are you okay?” Lukas’s voice is genuinely worried, silence isn’t normal in the conversations between you two. You hear a rustling on the other line like he’s stood up.

“I don’t really know. I wish you were here.”

“What’s wrong? Talk to me.”

“I feel like a traitor.”

“Why?”

“My siblings… you know they will hate this deal.” You stress the word hate, voice a little bit breathless with anxiety.

“I do.” His voice is quiet, almost whispering as he speaks to you.

“They would rather die than sell Waystar. But I-” You sigh, swallow thickly. “I almost agree with Dad. I think this is a good move for us. Not just because I’m fucking the guy who’s buying the company.”

“Well then, why do you agree?”

“If we don’t sell, we’re gonna get swallowed whole. All we have is the content, not the platform to back it up, not new technology to keep us relevant.”

“That’s all true.” Lukas’s voice gets a little louder, his sentences trailing off a bit as he prompts you to keep talking.

“But even if we had that, even if we were doing better, we were more stable…”

“You still would want to sell?” He already knows what’s on your mind. Of course he does.

“I think so… I mean, I will never be CEO. Not if we’re family owned, not if we’re owned by GoJo, never. And I don’t want to spend my life in this company, especially if I’m not running it.” Your head tips back against the wall you’re leaning on. You’re hiding away in a bathroom, your voice echoing a bit as it bounces off the marble walls. “This work… it fucking destroys people.”

“It sounds like you already know what you think.”

“But Shiv and Roman and Kendall… They want the company so badly. They’ve been prepped to run it since they were kids. Even if they kill each other for CEO, at least one of them would get what they wanted.” You’re louder now, voice still stressed but frustration peaking through.

“You need to stop wasting your life making other people happy. You would do anything for your family, and they wouldn’t do shit for you.” Lukas’s tone isn’t angry or yelling, it’s stating a fact.

“That’s not true-”

“Is it? I see you go above and beyond for them every single day, and they never spare you a second glance.” Lukas’s voice is almost pleading when he speaks next. “Think about yourself, for once. Please.”

“Thank you.” Your eyes are brimmed with tears, your fingers coming up to brush them away quickly. “I will.”

There’s a small pause before he talks again. “Are you mad I didn’t tell you about buying Waystar?” You laugh, breathlessly, at the simpleness of his question after all you’ve just talked about.

“No, I’m not mad. I was shocked…but I think it’s worn off. You’re just doing what’s best for you.”

“Yeah, yeah I am.”

“I think you’re really smart actually. If I was in your position I’d do the same thing.” You move from your stance against the wall to look in the mirror, checking to fix any smudged mascara.

“That’s what I thought. I asked myself what you would do.”

“No, you did not.”

“No, I did not. I did think about how it would affect you though.”

“Thank you for that.” It’s half sarcastic, but you know he really does care for you.

“You’re welcome.”

“I’ll talk to you later today.”

“Okay. Come visit soon.” Lukas ends like he always does, asking for your presence.

“I’ll try.”

It takes you a minute to compose yourself. Fix your hair, wipe off some of your fucked up concealer, blow your nose. You exit the bathroom, walk down the hall and down some stairs, finally arriving in front of the massive wooden doors leading to your dad’s office. Your brain is finally quieter now, thoughts forming clearer and headache fading quickly. You slip a small smile to the bodyguard, Colin, who opens the door for you to enter.

Your three siblings are there, backs facing the door as they stare down Logan, who’s just moved to press a button on the phone resting against his desk. Their heads snap to you. The door shuts behind you. Siobhan opens her mouth, but you speak before she does.

“What’s going on? When did you get here?”

“What’s going on? You know what’s going on, Dad is selling and fucking our entire lives up.” Shiv faces you, her eyes are daggers and her body is a rocket about to explode. “And you didn’t tell us.”

“No, he’s not fucking your lives up. It’s not the end of the world, Shiv.” You approach them, eyes wide and pleading.

“So you do know. You knew he was selling the company and you didn’t think ‘Hmm maybe I should tell my siblings this, you know, since they’ve spent their entire lives thinking they were going to run Waystar!’” Roman throws his hands up, his jaw is clenched and his eyes are watering.

“Do you think it would’ve made a difference?” Your voice drops, both in tone and volume. “Do you really think I have any sort of control? Any say in what happens?”

Everyone is quiet for a moment, Kendall won’t make eye contact with you. Logan is watching you intently before gazing at his other children’s faces.

“I have never, and will never, be number one. I will never have control over the company, I will never even have control over one branch of the company. I will never be CEO, I won’t even make it to CFO, because I will always be lower than you. And I will always be there for you to yell at and use and manipulate. You already fucking do!” You’re more angry than sad now, maybe it’s misdirected, but you’re too wound up to care. “For once in my life, I’m thinking about myself. And I will not let this shit, this work, destroy me like it has destroyed you.”

A few tears spill from your eyes, you don’t bother to wipe them up, just continue your eye contact with your siblings. You’re right and everyone knows it, from Gerri and Karl sitting on the couch to Logan in front of you. Shiv can’t hold your gaze anymore, she drops her eyes to the ground. Roman turns to your Dad, his eyes are wide and desperate.

“Please?” His voice is meek, barely a whisper.

“‘Please?’ You bust in here with guns, but now that you find they’ve turned to fucking sausages, you want to say ‘please?’” Logan moves from where he was half-sitting on the arm of a couch to stand in front of your siblings. “You should have trusted me.”

“Dad, why?”

“Oh you need me to tell you why? Like your sister didn’t already? But your too fucking ashamed to admit she’s right.” He begins walking to the door, past your siblings, pausing at you to put a hand on your shoulder. “Because it works. I fucking win. Now go on, go on, fuck off you nosey fucking pedestrians.”

The doors open, Logan is immediately tasked with papers to sign and business to attend to. Roman moves to Jerri, asks her something you don’t quite hear from the blood rushing in your ears, before moving back to the crowd of your siblings. Roman crumples to the floor, Kendall with his hands on his shoulders, Shiv next to them. You turn to see Tom entering, him offering you a weak smile as he passes.

“I’m glad you’re okay, Kendall.” Your voice is monotone. Ken looks up at you, opens his mouth to say something, then decides against it. Tom starts speaking to Shiv, but you don’t hear what he says, already turning to walk out the doors, to head back to your hotel suite, to head away from your family.

You stay on the phone with Lukas the rest of that night. You can’t sleep but you don’t want to be awake. He eases the pain. He says he’s proud of you. He cares more than anyone you’ve known.

When you finally fall asleep in the early morning hours, you dream of space. You’re a cosmonaut, dancing on Saturn’s rings, playing baseball with meteors. The darkness is liminal, and pure, and calm. And the constellations are breathing around you, lighting your lawless orbit. You break the trail of a comet, its fire dotting the sky like a stitch on black cloth. Venus is a stray dog, following you wherever you lead it, spinning for attention and praise. Stars flicker like faces, you can’t recognize who they are anymore.

When you touch the Earth, everything sings.

#ao3 #fanfic #fanfiction #succession #succession fanfic #alexander skarsgard #lukas matsson #lukas matsson x reader #lukas matsson x you #lukas matsson x oc #lukas matsson x ofc #lukas matsson smut #lukas matsson fic #lukas matsson fanfic #lukas matsson imagine #snow’s fics #a body of impulses #smut

228 notes · View notes

monst · 9 days

Note

LOVEE your tim fics🩷🩷 i keep coming back to read them again 🥹 if its okay can i ask if youre planning anything else for him?

Aww Thank you! That really means a lot! And it’s more than okay to ask! Eeeekkk I’m like obsessed with Tim so there’s so much I have planned for him. I try to hold myself back cause I don’t wanna be stingy and hog the tags >.<

Ahhh okay okay I’m just really excited! Right, so imma separate this into two categories Sfw & nsfw(Under cut)

WC- 800

Sfw:

Tim drake General hc’s: We’re sitting at 2.3k words for this so I’m tryna cut this down.

A couple of cute date fics: Sort of like “Go for a drive” and “Watching the sunset” Ex: Watching movies in the car (Drive up movie theater), Skateboarding, and slushies (Some graffiti) Gala shit, Maybe some sports stuff cause he’s low-key sporty (Multifacited this one, probably why I like him so much lol) Magic shenanigans while play their version of D&D (Kinda like that one Gravity falls episode, gotta bring in my witch boy Klarion) Mostly fluff

Another edition of ‘High Ramblings about Tim Drake’: I mean I typed it out and I figured I might as well post it- just general ideas on what DC can do with his character. Hypothetical story arcs, his position in Gotham, his age and alias, etc.

Father, there's something wrong with Timothy: Aftermath of Joker Junior, Mostly from Damian’s pov. This one is more of an Elseworlds au since I didn’t want it to be the Batman Beyond version. Anon requested the batfam’s reaction to his relapse so it’s canon adjacent? (Not an x reader) Thriller/Horror.

Executive Tim: Anon req. Yandere Tim Drake. He’s already got a killer migraine and Tam’s replacement already screwed up. Screwed up may be a bit harsh but with the week he’s had he wasn’t feeling quite charitable. The mix-up with one of their outside distributors has Tim calling different vendors. Multiple calls later and he swears if he gets transferred to a different department one more goddamn time he’s going to- “Hello you’ve reached (Your name) how can I help you?” - Employee poaching lol, Unhealthy power dynamics, Gratuitous abuse of power.

Around the world: Series in no particular order. I hc that he’s learned to make the most of his time with his partner. (Past relationships failing due to not spending any time together) So even if you're not a vigilante he takes you with him on missions if you're also free and down. Needs to do a stakeout? Going undercover? Trailing a suspect? Or just general boots to the ground investigating? He’s asking if you’d like to tag along. However, anything that involves him in the mask or anything that involves physical combat is off the table. You walk into his apartment and see Tim's bitchy face and he just asks you “You wanna go to Switzerland?”

Old friend: Some call it being at the wrong place at the wrong time others prefer to call it fate. Honestly, he never pondered fatalism. But the joker was dead and there were no leads. Whoever had done it didn't leave anything behind nor did they announce it. It had to be fate. After all, this was the kind of death the psychotic clown would have despised. It’s been two weeks and the blame game had already been played. Solid alibis. He was told not to investigate. So he was in some dingy laundromat with Ives; catching up with old friends to curb his need to investigate. But he recognized the employee refilling the quarters “(Name?)” - Mystery, suggestive themes, smoking, gang affiliations, Hypocrite Tim Drake

Not your typical office romance: Multi-chapter, your company sends you as part of a team to initiate building reforms in Gotham. As a result, your introduced to your new colleague for this project Tim Drake from Wayne’s R&D department. You're eager to get to work, but your flakey coworker is halting progress. Your polite facade comes crumbling down due to massive misunderstandings. Lots of antagonism, Bitchy Reader

Nsfw:

Escalation 2: This one is mostly done just need to edit. You found a way to play off not seeing the snap but my boy is shameless. And you may have started something you'll lose at.

Deal with the devil: Dark! Tim drake (Borderline Yandere) Hmm. This one is fucked; He should have left you to your fate. You knew better than to go investigate that cave alone but that’s just who you were, reckless, fickle, unburdened, hardheaded. He didn’t know whether he hated you or if he was just deeply envious. But even so, he couldn’t just leave you alone, not when you actually used the emergency beacon he gave you. Not when you actually kept it. He should have expected that it was Ra’s Al Ghul’s doing, he should have ignored his words, he should have but a snake seduced Eve in the Garden of Eden, and wasn’t Ra’s a devil?

Five minutes: Oral fixation reader, Tim’s playing Apex (Octane or Horizon main) with some old friends but you really need him in your mouth. Subspace. Why Apex? Because everything I know about it has been involuntary.

Vacation: Sort of a spin-off of Across the World. This series involves trips around the states and the world. He’s a vigilante but he’s also a very public figure that still needs to attend certain social events. Ex: Ski trips(This one* mhm), Weekend Conferences, or just a vacation. (Cases might align with an event)

Indecent: You come up to his office while he’s busy. But you came up looking too distracting how on earth is he supposed to concentrate? Spoiler he doesn’t.

Boudoir pics: Cute flirty pictures of each other that's what this was supposed to be.

Impatient: The fact that your boyfriend could so easily hold you down was very hot. But you're so over it, if he didn't stop teasing you were going to die! Tim x M. Reader

Lastly: he has like two days in the upcoming kinktober event. Maybe an add to possibility ft Poison Ivy

A/N: My undiagnosed ADHD won’t let me write things in order so that’s the reason why most of my stuff takes a while and/or sits in my drafts for ages (Ex: I have Bruce Hc’s that have been done for weeks…) Also, thanks for the ask! I had all of these all over the place this def helped me organize it all.

#Oooh I can use this as a masterlist too #uh random bullshit go!#tim drake x reader #Special sorry to ya who follow me for my bnha stuff most of your asks are outlined T.T

32 notes · View notes

myalgicencephalomyelitiscfstom · 1 year

Text

From The #MEAction Network

Wondering about the terms PEM or pacing? Have you seen #StopRestPace and were curious as to what it referenced? Maybe you have been in our community a long time and want to save some easy ways to explain these concepts to others. Perhaps you have seen pacing misused and want to help clear that up. We hope this post helps!

#StopRestPace is a campaign created by #MEAction to help our community spread the word to those who were experiencing PEM after COVID-19 to rest and pace their activity.

What is PEM? Post-exertional malaise (PEM) is the cardinal symptom of ME/CFS. PEM is a flare of symptoms and/or the appearance of new symptoms after exertion, often presenting 24 hours after the triggering event. Physical activity, cognitive overexertion, and sensory overload can all trigger PEM.

Sometimes exertion is misunderstood as exercise. Exercise is simply one form of exertion. Exertion is defined here as anything that stresses or strains the system. Exertion can be physical, orthostatic, sensory, cognitive, emotional, or environmental. No trigger can be controlled all of the time. The goal of pacing is to MINIMIZE post-exertional malaise rather than eliminate it.

Pacing is a self-management strategy for activity. Patients who pace well are active when able and rest when tired. Proper pacing involves building up awareness of the levels of daily activity that do not trigger relapse of symptoms through PEM. While this sounds simple, it is incredibly difficult. Activity management in severe patients can be very challenging since even activities like eating or brushing teeth may lead to a crash. Pacing advice may not always be useful in this population.

#MEAction offers three pacing guides - adult, pediatric, and clinician - on our site. Our pediatric guide was developed in conjunction with Long Covid families. Our clinician's guide was developed with Patient-Led Research. https://www.meaction.net/resource/pacing-and-management-guide

#pwME #MECFS #LongCovid #pacing #Post exertional malaise

263 notes · View notes

saras-almanac · 4 months

Text

Being under the assumption that both Eddie’s and Bobby’s storylines will feature heavily in the last few episodes of the season with fallout and some consequences set up for season 8, I have some thoughts about what I want to see for the show since I’m procrastinating doing anything today…

Bobby – Having to actually physically face someone from the fire, I want that to be a big sign for Bobby to actually start working through his trauma and guilt in a way that doesn’t necessarily lead to a potential relapse story, but some tension with Athena because she can’t understand what he’s going through, how he feels really (similar to when he was helping that drunk driving woman after the pileup from Blindsided). Another thing I want is to see him taking more of an active role in his AA meetings—I want him to really start focusing on that so he can have friends outside of people he’s Captain of, plus it’ll help set up what his endgame should be: focusing on his meetings and helping people who have been at or are at rock bottom because he is someone who can really understand. And he doesn’t need to be a first responder to still help.

Athena – I literally just want her to interact more with Buck. (Though I literally want Buck to interact with everyone so much) If his apartment does burn down or he moves, maybe Athena offers him to stay at their place since Maddie and Chimney are dealing with their own stuff, Eddie’s off on his own, and it’s a bit too soon to fully move in with Tommy). But just imagine the talks they could have over tea late at night, both of them being night owls. They could talk about their careers, how to know when to keep trying for advancement or when it’s okay to be content where you’re at. Plus let’s say Athena gets drafted to help on a case of some sort, bringing home some files along with her notes, only to wake up in the morning to see Buck on his third cup of coffee and a full red string makeshift pinboard set up on the table going through all the potential theories. (Athena wants to be annoyed but also, maybe he’s on to something? And it’s not like he went out and started doing his own sleuthing and digging through someone’s trash so… )

Buck – Obviously next season I just want him and Tommy to still be together and their big storyline is working on continuing to build their relationship, especially allowing Buck to really be there for Tommy in a way that we’ve already seen Tommy do for Buck. I want their relationship to be settled and steady, even with the bumps and hiccups, but ultimately something that settles Buck so he can really focus on his career and what he wants outside of being a firefighter. (Obviously my endgame for Buck is being Captain at a different firehouse, or well on his way to actually being Captain). But there’s so much angst and humor to be had in the background where Buck/Tommy doesn’t have to take up too much space. Obviously the angst of if Tommy gets hurt or just learning about his past (which I have lots of thoughts about) and Buck learning to cope with that, still growing and getting better at direct communication. Which could lead into a funny runner in an episode where Buck goes around asking everyone (Bobby, Athena, Maddie, Chimney) how they handle it when their partner is hurt and how is the best way for him to comfort Tommy after a rough shift because he obviously wants to do it the best way possible because Tommy is the best and always seems to know what to do and Buck just wants to be the same for him—only for him to get his real answer from Karen (because I also want more Buck with Karen and Buck and Hen being siblings next season). Plus Buck could be in random scenes because he’s obviously getting kicked out of Bobby and Athena’s house at least twice a week for their roleplaying nights that Buck doesn’t want to really ask about but accidentally knows too much about, which also leads to him showing up at May’s one night when everyone else is at work or busy and they have that weird “do you know what I know about mom and dad” conversation about what their parents are getting up to. (Plus leaning into May and Buck developing a relationship could also show us a lot of both of those characters because it’d be in different roles than we’ve seen them—May as the younger sister, Buck as the older brother) Plus I absolutely need to see Buck and Carla being friends again.

Tommy – I absolutely want him to stick around and for them to start filling in the gaps of his life a bit more because he is a really friendly person and has buddies and people to hang out with, but he’s also really lonely and I think that’s why jumped all in with his friendship with Eddie and putting his best foot forward with Buck. Just want him around lol

HenRen – My most beloved ladies. I just want them to keep going and having them face outside challenges together, as a team. So next season could be them wanting to officially adopt Mara but it’s their first adoption (where the kid is not a baby) and they want to do this right, not making Mara feel pressured or like she has to accept this. Obviously them juggling Mara and their still complicated feelings about Denny reconnecting with Nathanial behind their backs is a really good story for them, and then what happens if they get more kids, or another case similar to Mara where it’s a slightly older child and it upsets the balance a bit more? I just love the idea of them as foster parents and want to keep exploring that, even if it is “repetitive” because it’s wonderful to see such amazing parents who are actively trying to be the best they can be and making sure to put their kids first. (Endgame for them, adopting a baby girl, which doesn’t make them love their other children less, but it’d be a really nice full circle moment of them with Denny and Nia, to this full-scale family) Would also love to see Karen interacting a bit more with people—I think at least starting with Chimney and Buck would be a really quick and easy way—Buck could be babysitting a bit, coming over for game nights, showing up randomly. Just a way to start getting Karen more featured because she is literally sunshine and I think it’d be really cool to see her talking about her job and Buck’s excitement and how he’d be super interested in it. (And maybe she’s starting to question if she wants to stay at her job, now with the kids and she’s not sure if she’s as excited about it anymore, or maybe she hasn’t fully been herself at work since the explosion… anything for Karen that’s not sad or too angsty because I can’t handle it. Or one of her brothers comes to stay for an undisclosed amount of time causing hijinx.)

Madney – Oh my god… These two need much less angst and just pure happiness forever. But obviously, that’s not going to happen. So what I would love to see is their storyline centered around the next steps for their family, namely whether or not they want more kids. Jee was a happy accident and they’d never not want her, but it does bring up the question of do they want more children? They both have some issues surrounding parental relationships, and while they’ve been working through them and are incredible parents themselves, would they feel ready or able to have another child or more children? Not to mention physically, for Maddie, would she be willing and able to put herself through that again? I don’t know. It’s something that could really give them a lot of meat in a story while not being needlessly overdramatic—Like my hopes for HenRen, I want them to face things as a couple and still support each other.

Eddie – I need him to be getting help. I want to see this story completely blow up in his face because he doesn’t really have a lot of storylines that deal with the fallout of his actions. And this will hopefully be something that is just him making the worst possible decisions ever and then seeing him lash out at people would be peak writing for this character, to watch him build himself back up and really allow him to have relationships outside of Chris and Buck. I know they’re all friends, but Eddie literally doesn’t really interact with anyone else. Would love to see him and Buck on the outs for a bit so they could both have scenes with some other people. Plus I’d love this story to lead to a happily single Eddie, realizing that he doesn’t need to have a partner just for Chris’s sake and that he’s not really interested in dating right now, despite the fact it feels like everyone in his life (his family) keeps pushing that on him. He honestly needs to do a lot of work on himself to be ready and able to be in a romantic relationship because Eddie is actually the worst in relationships—and whether that’s only because he’s still dealing with Shannon’s death and the way he’s clearly romanticized their past or because he genuinely doesn’t want to date or doesn’t know how to date, we can explore. I want to know more about Eddie because from the beginning he’s basically just been Single Dad Veteran and I don’t feel like they’ve really given him much else until this season. Let Eddie be alone so we can actually learn who he is more before he gets into another relationship—or crazier yet, allow for Single Representation Eddie where he ultimately decides he’s happier alone and doesn’t need anyone.

Josh – My endgame for Josh is obviously him taking over Sue’s position at the Call Center—which would obviously lead to Maddie officially taking over Josh’s spot. But like Buck, I want Josh to have a little more stability in his life so he has stuff outside the call center to help balance himself when he does take on that role. Could be a really great way to sort of mirror Buck and Josh—both of them knowing what they want to do and being really great at it but having no real idea of what to do if that’s taken away. Josh sort of stumbled into this job and excelled at it immensely, but sort of at the expense of his own personal life (plus the trauma of his last “official” experience with dating). Whereas Buck’s never really set aside his personal life for his job but hasn’t ever really found that balance of both with someone who really gets him. So there could be a lot to explore with them as an option. I just want to see a bit more of Josh and maybe he gets a boyfriend or at least starts to date again.

Ravi – I have no idea what I want for him other than for him to be around. In my ideal endgame, he’s obviously taking over Buck’s role at the 118, so maybe just keeping him involved in the crew more. Maybe he has a big dramatic storyline for season 8, dealing with his past or getting injured or showing how he withdraws very quickly. I don’t know he’s sort of a blank slate so they could really do anything with him. I just want to see him around more.

Basically I just have a lot of thoughts and wanted to write them all out here because why not.

#911 abc #evan buckley #bucktommy #henren #madney #bathena #bobby nash #athena grant #chimney han #maddie buckley #hen wilson #karen wilson #tommy kinard #josh russo #ravi panikkar #911 thoughts

62 notes · View notes

covid-safer-hotties · 1 month

Text

Drs. Ziyad Al-Aly, Akiko Iwasaki and Eric Topol, along with other acclaimed researchers, have issued a position statement on Long COVID published yesterday in the journal Nature Medicine. This document provides a much-needed perspective on the continued dangers posed by the “forever COVID” policy enshrined in official public health policies.

This important review comes on the heels of the recent publication in the New England Journal of Medicine (NEJM) of a reference frame for the chronic disease. It was developed by the National Academies of Sciences, Engineering, and Medicine (NASEM) Committee on Examining the Working Definition for Long COVID.

The 2024 NASEM Long COVID definition is: “Long COVID is an infection-associated chronic condition that occurs after SARS-CoV-2 infection and is present for at least 3 months as a continuous, relapsing and remitting, or progressive disease state that affects one or more organ systems.”

Most importantly, previous documentation of a COVID infection is not required for the diagnosis. The NASEM report explains: “By now, most persons worldwide have had at least one episode of acute SARS-CoV-2 infection. A requirement for proof of diagnosis could wrongly exclude many patients …”

This closer approximation to a scientific definition of long COVID is an important step towards educating the public and issuing a call for action to address the viral assault on the global population.

The authors of the study, published in Nature Medicine, should be commended for giving urgency to an issue that Dr. Al-Aly has rightly called “the elephant in the room.” Yet as sincere as these appeals may be to take Long COVID seriously, they will not convince the bourgeois authorities who have already dismissed warnings about the acute stage of COVID-19.

The complex multisystem disorder that can affect nearly every organ system after a COVID infection spares no one across the age spectrum. It appears that even fetuses in utero are at increased risk of respiratory ailments if the mother was infected during pregnancy.

Considering our rapidly developing comprehension of the long-term health consequences of COVID, thanks to the exemplary work being done by these scientists, the policy of mass infection demanded by the financial oligarchy assumes an even more sinister and deranged character.

The “cardinal” symptoms of Long COVID include brain fog and memory changes, fatigue, rapid sudden onset of heart rate, significant sleep disturbances, and immense sense of discomfort and illness after exerting oneself. There are no cures and, worse, no diagnostic tools that can tell someone they have Long COVID. Only recently have healthcare workers and researchers begun to identify treatments for Long COVID, but there is an absence of randomized trials to guide these decisions.

The authors note, “Care for people with Long COVID varies widely across settings and practitioners. It is often challenged by lack of widespread recognition and understanding of Long COVID among medical professionals, constrained resources and competing demands on healthcare systems still recovering from the shock of the pandemic, lack of standardized care pathways, lack of definitive diagnostic and treatment tools, and a general pervasive pandemic fatigue with an urge to ‘move on.’” The last point is a byproduct of the impact of forcing the population to accept COVID as a permanent fixture of society.

On top of the horrific impact it has on an individual person, on a social scale, mass Long COVID leads to loss of productivity, disruption in the workplace and increased risk of occupational-related injury or fatalities. Cognitive impairment, even after mild infections, is common, and there can be dire consequences for workers in occupations where the slightest error or inattention can be devastating: truck drivers, electricians, airline pilots, first responders and more. To say nothing of the impact on the wider community.

The report makes reference to the 2022 US Brookings Institute estimates on the figure of 2 million to 4 million US adults who were out of work because of Long COVID. Add to this the Minneapolis US Federal Reserve Bank report from July 2022, finding that people with Long COVID had a 10 percent poorer chance of being employed, and when they were, worked 25 to 50 percent less than uninfected individuals.

On a global scale, the authors wrote, “On the basis of all the available data, a conservative estimate of the annual global economic toll of Long COVID could be around $1 trillion, amounting to 1% of the 2024 global GDP.” Other estimates are even higher: An economic study from 2022 placed the cost of Long COVID at $3.7 trillion, or $11,000 per capita for the US alone, amounting to 17 percent of the gross domestic product (GDP).

Most compelling in the Al-Aly et al. review was their assessment of the global cumulative incidence of Long COVID, which until now had been opaque.

Basing their estimates on meta-regression studies that pooled all the available evidence, they estimated that figure for the first four years of the pandemic at 409 million cases of Long COVID. The authors remarked, “It is crucial to emphasize that these estimates only represent cases arising from symptomatic infections and are likely to be conservative. The actual incidence of Long COVID, including cases from asymptomatic infections or those with a broader range of symptoms, is expected to be higher.”

By comparison, among the most common ailments afflicting the world’s population, heart and circulatory issues, affect around 620 million. This means that in only four years, Long COVID, as a disease, has risen nearly to the top of the global list. Furthermore, Long COVID, as a multi-organ disease process, will only exacerbate noncommunicable and communicable diseases that arise in the future.

Placing these figures into context, this week, based on wastewater data, infection modelers estimate that COVID infections have once again climbed above 1 million cases per day, a staggering figure, to which the CDC is completely indifferent. COVID modeler Dr. Mike Hoerger of the Pandemic Mitigation Collaborative, in a social media discussion with this writer, said that presently, on average, every American has been infected between three or four times.

In a rare show of concern, the World Health Organization (WHO) announced that COVID-19 was spreading across the globe, with positivity rates in Europe above 20 percent. In opening their August 6, 2024, news report on COVID, they warned, “The UN health agency is also concerned that more severe variants of the coronavirus may soon be on the horizon.”

The European continent is swimming in a river of infection, like the unfortunate Olympic athletes sickened by swimming in the polluted Seine. And as we have already noted, the Olympics themselves have been a superspreader event.

Knowing that reinfections, more severe disease, and remaining unvaccinated, all raise the risk of Long COVID, one can only watch the current wave of infections with alarm. These will be given further fuel as schools and universities begin to open their doors later this month. Furthermore, global COVID vaccinations have essentially come to a halt. Long COVID is the long tail of the ongoing pandemic that has no end.

Unique in the report by Dr. Al-Aly and colleagues is the raising of social issues affecting the global impact of Long COVID. In support of the UN Foundation’s Sustainable Development Goals (SDG), they raise the need to end poverty and hunger, improve access to health, provide quality education, improve working conditions and reduce inequalities. They also call for funding to support coordinated interdisciplinary research on Long COVID on a global footing.

The recognition of the social issues that need to be addressed is an important insight. However, the appeal to existing public health institutions and political processes to heed their warnings will not bear any fruit.

First and foremost, the “forever COVID” policy is not a misguided public health construct. It is a calculated and coordinated approach to ensure pandemic threats would not impede the unfettered accumulation of surplus value off the backs of the working class. If the sick and infirm fall by the wayside, these social losses are seen as financial gains by the class that seeks to extract from the working class every minute of their potential labor power and avoid the cost of their “lingering on.”

In this regard, Senator Bernie Sanders’ introduction of legislation titled the “Long COVID Research Moonshot Act of 2024” is simply political theater, aimed at deluding the public into thinking that the capitalist system is capable of reform. The bill would provide a paltry $1 billion in mandatory funding per year for 10 years to the National Institutes of Health (NIH) to support Long COVID research.

To think this legislation will see the light of day while social spending is being slashed to fund the forever wars is to look at the world through very thick rose-colored glasses. Those researchers and public health advocates who wish to promote the application of the scientific principles that guide their own work must recognize the necessity for a broader social perspective.

To address Long COVID, as the world Trotskyist movement has demanded, one must begin by eliminating COVID across the world. Despite the dismissal of such a perspective by capitalist governments and the corporate media, zero COVID is and remains the only viable solution.

Only one social class is capable of taking up and fighting for such a policy: the international working class. The fight against COVID and future pandemics, like the looming H5N1, must be integrated into the revolutionary mobilization of the working class against the capitalist system and the establishment of a socialist society, in which human needs, including the most basic concerns of healthy life, will be the basis of social policy, not private profit.

#long covid #covid #mask up #pandemic #covid 19 #wear a mask #sars cov 2 #coronavirus #still coviding #public health #wear a respirator

33 notes · View notes

sheyfu · 19 hours

Text

sun and moon ☽｡⋆

𝗜𝗡 𝗪𝗛𝗜𝗖𝗛 a waltz takes place beneath the sun and moon.

feat. kamisato ayato (f!reader)

cw. none :)) js enjoy some tooth-rotting fluff (HELP I HOPE I DIDNT FLOP ERMMMM IM SO BAD AT WRITING ITS NOT EVFEN FUNNY ANYMORE 😓😓) (omg does 'kinda proofread' count as a cw ERMMM HASUDHUSADHA)

note. GRAHHHHHH MS SAIGON RELAPSE (i wasnt able to watch it live when they did the ph leg D: but my cousin sent the clips he took and now i cant stop watching them (especially sun and moon and the last night of the world [and the finale 😈😈😈] so you can expect [kinda] ms saigon related works HUAHDUASHDUH (gang im still tryna expand my vocab when it comes to very flowery words so HAUDHAUDH my works will [probably] get better from here trust) + this was written with miss saigon's sun and moon (specifically lea salonga and simon bowman's version) playing in the bg on repeat so yeah HWHAHAHA wc. 504

“may i have this dance with you?”

the moon casts its gentle gaze upon the beings of chinju forest — a symphony of frogs sing with the breeze as a troupe of bake-danuki accompany the piece with their dance.

in the midst of all these, a hand is offered.

"quite the romantic you are, mr. commissioner,” you show him a grin as you take his hand, slotting your bodies to form a cocoon of melody and warmth.

“only for you, milady,” the commissioner, kamisato ayato, returns your grin — his warmth radiating off your body as you fall into a steady waltz under the bed of stars.

the pair dance under the moon’s watchful gaze; the string of harmony and rhythm from the beings reduce to a gentle diminuendo as the pair lock eyes with each other.

“careful now, ayato. wouldn’t want the shuumatsuban catching their lord tripping and stepping on his lady’s feet now, do we?” a chuckle escapes from your lips as you sway to the tempo of your hearts.

ayato brings his forehead to yours as he pulls you closer, “hm? is that so? well, lucky for me”, he abruptly turns you to face the scenery of chinju forest — his hands lay on your hips as the ghost of his breath cascades down the shell of your ear, sending chills upon its caress — your gentle waltz coming to a momentary halt. “i have a great dance teacher who coincidentally has the same name of my lady. and for all i care, those ninjas shouldn’t be intruding on their masters’ alone time. hmph.”

laughter bubbles up in your throat as you hear the rustles of nearby bushes around you. “oh? is that right? well, care to tell me about the oh so wonderful dance teacher you have?” turning to your lover once more, you catch him in an embrace as you resume the gentle sway of your bodies.

“we’ll be here until dawn then, my dear.” ayato sends you a gentle smile; his hand leads your head to his beating heart, gentle pats landing on it as he does the same to your shoulder.

“if that’s the case, then i am most honoured to share this night with you.” you feel the rumble of his chest as he entertains your idea.

“well then. should we start with the part when said teacher confessed her undying love for me, her student?” a playful lilt touches upon his words as he spins you around.

"hey now. that sounds like i did something... nefarious." a small pout forms on your lips as your husband chortles at you.

as the night joins with day, their waltz continued without a misstep — the string of harmony and rhythm continue to accompany the lovers as they get lost in their own world of tell and tale.

and with the gazes of both sun and moon, they continue to sway to their own beat — holding each other tight as if it was the last night of the world.

tagging: @ayrastv

🐈‍⬛️: genshin has been added to the list of options for my taglist! please access the gform below if you'd like to be added to my taglist <3

#🐈‍⬛️.scorebook #💠.genshin impact #🌺.kamisato ayato #genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #kamisato ayato #ayato #genshin ayato #kamisato ayato x reader #ayato x reader

34 notes · View notes

just-a-strange-boy · 1 year

Text

experimenting for friends

part 2 - hair-pulling

part 1

Sherlock Holmes is a man prone to addiction. In means of trying to finally set an end to his substance abuse by finding something equally stimulating, he is eager to do his share of research - and of course, it's your help he's requesting. Another experiment entails.

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Reader (GN)

Warnings: 18+ (Minors DNI), mentions of drug abuse/addiction, mentions of relapse, penetrative sex, mentions inexperienced/virgin Sherlock, questionable sexual favours, fwb (?)

A/N: this is definitely not how you (should) treat substance abuse, but hey... it's Sherlock

"I have a request."

You were just sorting through some paperwork, a whole clutter of important documents you figured he should keep, neatly organizing them in binders and folders, something Sherlock thought was too mundane and boring to do, when the detective came to approach you, downright startling you with one of his spontaneous verbal outbursts.

"Fire away", you had said, looking up from the piles of paper to find him standing in the doorway, hoping that he wasn't just going to ask for another walk so he could have yet another cigarette. You'd managed to get him down to three a day, which was a huge success, considering he had only relapsed recently, heavily abusing substances far worse than nicotine. It had been your agreement from the get go – you'd turn a blind eye to Sherlock smoking a limited amount of cigarettes as long as he stopped using otherwise.

However, it wasn't a cigarette he was asking for.

"Obviously my desire for substances mostly stems from how they affect the release of chemicals within my brain, chemicals that stimulate and influence the way I process my thoughts. They minimize the often overwhelming sensations I experience and are inhibiting my natural urge to deduce everything. They manage to calm my mind, a rather positive effect, which is why I have always relied on getting high if I needed a moment of peace. Can you follow me?"

Sherlock was speaking as rapidly as you were used to, not even allowing you the slightest opportunity of uttering a single word, "Of course you can follow me. You're not an idiot. I know you've done your research and I explained it to you plenty. My point is that I have been researching with the intention of finding something that will have a similar positive effect, in order to...not having to use."

"Let me guess", you replied with a sigh, processing what he was telling you, figuring quickly why he came forward with a request, "You're suggesting another experiment that I will have to be part of? To research and find out whether any theory you have might be correct?"

The detective nodded, striding over until he was standing next to the table, gaze drifting over what you were currently sorting, before giving it a dismissive look and focusing back on you.

"Yes. Exactly. I knew you would get it. I have... reconsidered that time when we... um...uh", he began almost awkwardly, all the sudden stuttering in a way very unlike him, "...when you touched me and when we were close... I felt good. In a way that might be comparable to a high. But I need to figure out what kind of effects it has on me from an analytical point of view to make sure I am right about my assumption."

So very clearly, Sherlock was suggesting you gave him another sexual favour – like once before in an experimental setting, needing to gather 'information' before he could confirm his assumption.

You had no doubt that a sexual high could be comparable to a drug high in some way – you wouldn't know though – and you would have liked to help him, but also considered it risky.

As much as you would have wanted him to find something, anything, to stop him from using ever again, you didn't know whether that would be the right way.

Leading Sherlock to another kind of addiction was risky, considering he was definitely prone to developing them, may it be his evident addiction to the thrill of his work, trying to keep up with and challenge the dangerous minds of criminals, or the substance abuse itself.

Besides that, you didn't want to put your friendship at risk and you were also not going to be some object for Sherlock to figure out whether sex could make him feel similar as a high on drugs.

The man sensed your initial reluctance, continuing his lengthy explanations, so typically like him, so casually like only Sherlock could as he seemed to have found his grip again.

"But at the same time I know it wouldn't be fair of me to continue requesting those things for my own gain. You are your own person and I would never try to guilt-trip you into something that could possibly set an end to my habitual substance abuse. I am very aware that I am the one owing you a favour for your help in the first place. I do not want to further strain our friendship with my demands, but I need you to know that... if I can share and research this with anyone, I would want it to be you."

You sighed. It was ridiculous. Ridiculous that you were even considering this in the first place.

Could you have refused Sherlock? Possibly. That's what you should have done anyway.

Did you want to refuse him? Certainly not.

Last time you had decided to work on an experiment with him, you had gotten to see a very different side of Sherlock, soft and submissive and gorgeous. You had kissed him, touched him, not to mention you had absolutely jerked him off too. You had praised and cherished him. Sherlock had sounded wonderful, looked beautiful, so raw and open and honest – you had definitely not forgotten the sight. And yes, you might have masturbated to the memory itself too.

The instance had been hard to forget.

But ever since then nothing else had happened between you two. For good reasons.

Sure, you had sought out his presence like you usually did. You were friends, comfortable around each other, spend time with one another, though Sherlock wasn't necessarily an affectionate person. He didn't hug, didn't cuddle. He certainly wasn't interested in being anything but friends.

So you had figured that first time was just going to be a one time thing, just an experiment for research, and tried your hardest to get over the fact that Sherlock didn't harvest feelings for you other than appreciation for the friendship you offered. Romantic and sexual attraction were a rarity for him, so you knew, and you had never pretended you might be the exception.

Nevertheless you couldn't help your own feelings. You liked Sherlock a lot.

It pained you to see the detective on edge and all sombre, to see him lost in drug addiction and throwing himself into dangerous case work, just to escape from his own mind for a moment. You hated to see him hurt and so bloody lonely.

Of course it also made your heart ache to know you were nothing more than a friend to Sherlock, so you should have been wiser, refusing to partake in the experiment, because you indeed weren't some test subject and this was a recipe for disaster, something that would likely hurt you and potentially harm him in the end – which you did not want.

But the idea of being close to him again, of being able to potentially help Sherlock get his mind off the drugs, to ensure he would be feeling good and okay, even if just for a little while. You couldn't quite escape your own track of thoughts, your own wants, your own conviction that you might the person meant to save Sherlock Holmes from himself.

"Do you want me to... uhh... you know?", you asked, followed by a very specific hand gesture, unable to ignore the certain awkwardness, you sitting there, Sherlock standing there, a mess of case and paper work all around, as you kept looking at each other.

There was no distinct expression on the detective's face save for slight expectation and a bit of redness on his cheeks, blushing as you suggested giving him another handjob.

"I have not determined any specifics", Sherlock admitted to you, though not in refusing, "Meaning... I don't know what I would want, what would work. The things you offered me last time have had a positive effect on me. I know that I want to be close to you. I don't know what would suffice."

You contemplated, gnawing on your lips like you always did when you were a bit nervous, breaking his gaze for a moment as your glance fleeted over the table, even though your head was undeniably full of Sherlock.

You were both only human. While the detective craved something to ease his mind, you craved the physical intimacy and emotional connection to him. Neither of you should have taken use of the other, but since you were both consenting adults, you allowed yourself to be weak and stupid.

"We'll try to figure it out then", you agreed, "Let me finish this first?"

"Of course", Sherlock nodded, "Don't be too long, Mrs Hudson has invited us downstairs for dinner and I was suggesting we watch an episode of that ridiculous show you like afterwards. Before we... um... do anything?"

Evident surprise must have crossed your face and for a moment you had a hard time searching for the right words, not knowing what to think. It was kind of him to suggest, almost domestic.

Of course, having dinner at Mrs Hudson's wouldn't be like dinner at an actual restaurant, but Sherlock didn't want to go anywhere public in his current state of body and mind, so soon after his relapse. His landlady made impeccable food and she was even went out of her way to make it for the two of you, so you were amenable.

"Yes to dinner. We don't have to necessarily watch the show though", was all you replied, "You'd never be able to shut your mouth during the episode anyway, making comments about it the entire time. That's why we never watch TV together, Sherlock.”

"I comment on everything and you usually don't seem to mind", Sherlock stated and the slightest sign of a smile snook onto his lips.

And you smiled right back at him, not needing to have the last word and returning to your paperwork, while Sherlock continued his usual pacing and casework.

Needless to say, any attempt of continuing this work was useless anyway, since you were entirely incapable of focusing on the stack of files before you, unable to shrug off your nervousness as your thoughts went spiralling about what you had just agreed on.

You eventually came to the conclusion, while you were brooding over payment checks from clients, this might actually make for a nice time together.

Having dinner with Mrs Hudson was nothing unusual for you two and always made for an enjoyable time. Sharing a bed wouldn't be weird, as you had done so before, if only for a couple of danger nights, with a distance appropriate for friends between you.

What was appropriate for friends by definition anyway? Hadn't that line already been crossed by the one sexual favour you had given him? If you followed through with this today, closing that distance between you once again and going even further than last time, every possible line you could think of was going to be blurred forever.

It was very hard to not think about the possibilities, not the consequences, but how far Sherlock would be willing to go with you, what he would allow and ask for.

You wondered whether Sherlock would want to kiss you again, whether he would want to give as much as receive, whether you would actually have sex and how it was going to be, whether he would ask you to stay afterwards and share the bed with you.

Even thinking about what your evening would entail made you a little nervous.

Thus you were more than grateful for having dinner beforehand, considering it was so much easier to keep your doubts at bay and just stop thinking so damn much as Mrs Hudson was bustling around the two of you. She was as chatty as always, kept you entertained with stories from her past and her good food was a welcome distraction. Once again, she expressed her gratitude over you getting Sherlock back on his feet and voiced how glad she was that her tenant was doing much better with your assistance, going on about how happy she was he had found an actual friend, even though she still heavily insinuated your romantic involvement with each other.

You neither denied nor confirmed the idea in the moment, finding it rather amusing how flustered Sherlock got at the mention, though not bothering to say a word about it either, and after helping Mrs Hudson with the dishes, the two of you eventually headed upstairs together again.

It was fair that she had her suspicions. Probably many people had.

After that last experiment and tonight, rightfully so.

You ended up taking turns in the bathroom.

Admittedly, you were more anxious than expected while in the shower, scrubbing yourself clean everywhere, not knowing what to expect, what you were going to do, if Sherlock would even want to touch your body or if he just required you to touch him – and you were just as nervous while Sherlock was in the shower, sitting on the bed, fidgeting with your glasses, scrolling mindlessly through your phone as you kept thinking about what you wanted the man to do to you and more so how you were planning on bringing him pleasure.

If he'd let you.

You had dressed down to what you usually wore to bed, a loose t-shirt and sweatpants, being so bold as to forgo underwear altogether, curious how Sherlock would react to such a clear proposal, if he took note of it at all. Glasses still perched atop your nose, you turned your head when you heard the door to the bathroom open again, eyes following Sherlock as he came back out to join you on the bed, shrugging off his housecoat to reveal his choice of pyjamas, not so different from what you had decided on wearing.

"So, what did you have on your mind?", you dared to ask again, courageously, placing your phone on the bedside table, before turning further to Sherlock, who was now just sitting there, right next to you, neither seeming expectant nor nervous by any means, "I know you said specifics weren't clear, but I'm sure you have a fair amount of imagination."

"That is correct", the detective agreed, "I came to the conclusion that perhaps it would be wise to... begin like we did last time."

You shot him a smile. "So, you'd like to kiss me?", you asked, arching your eyebrows at him, hoping that Sherlock would take the bait and just go for it. There was nothing he could've done wrong. The thought of getting to kiss him again made you awfully excited.

"I'd like you to kiss me, yes." Though seeming slightly reluctant and reserved, his words were clear. He wanted you to kiss him.

And you definitely were going to kiss him, but most importantly you wanted to give it time. There was no need to rush and hopefully, neither of you were going anywhere any time soon.

So you reached out and grabbed Sherlock's hand. Instead of climbing him like a tree and slipping onto his lap right away, kissing him like your life depended on it, you were deciding for the two of you to take this slow, beginning with something as simple and innocent as touch.

Perhaps this would allow Sherlock to gather information better, how he responded to affection, how he responded to you initiating, how the simplest things would influence him or perhaps how they wouldn't. Whether it would leave him hungry for more, driving him mad with anticipation, or whether it wouldn't do anything for him at all.

This was an experiment after all. Might as well just do some experimenting.

You slotted your fingers together, marvelling how your hand fit into his so smoothly, so perfectly, and pulled them apart again, letting your fingertips dance over the expanse of his hand, tracing those long, skilled fingers with simple fascination. Fingers you had watched so often, whether it was them dancing over the fret of his violin, preparing samples for his microscope, picking up evidence at a crime scene. Wonderful and careful hands.

Eventually linking them into one another again, you gave his hand a gentle squeeze and looked at him, finding him glancing back at you. Of course you tried to read Sherlock's expression right away. There was some curiosity, he seemed attentive and receptive, the grip of his hand tightening instinctively, a response. He was just looking at you, observing, perhaps contemplating.

Your own heart was beating a little faster, sensations heightened by the sheer intimacy of the moment, time seemingly standing still all around you, so you couldn't exactly pinpoint the moment when you decided to move further. Perhaps it was the synapses in your brain finally snapping, perhaps it was just the need to break the tension that had come up between the two of you, perhaps it was a mutual silent agreement to do this all of the sudden.

Whatever it was, you leant into Sherlock, who met you halfway, pressing your lips together, responding to one another immediately.

As your mouths slotted together, a rather gentle brush of lips at first, you could feel how the grip on your hand was instinctively tightening, holding onto you more, in fear you might be slipping away any second again. But you certainly did not, would not, wrapped up in Sherlock's taste and warmth and his smell, licking along the seam of his lips, sliding your tongues together as he let you claim his mouth, as you let him explore.

You didn't know what had gotten you so hungry all of the sudden, but you knew you needed more of Sherlock. Speaking of addiction. So you decided to get more of him, who seemed compliant to your every move, absorbing every little bit, every touch, you allowed him.

Even those moments apart, when both of you had to catch your breaths, small gasps of air between you, he was quiet and observant. He let you shift around, slipping onto his lap again, greeting you with another sweet kiss after having you perched on his thighs.

Reaching up, you gently cupped Sherlock's face in your hands, tracing his jawline, those high cheekbones, before sliding them all the way up into his dark curls, tugging on his hair.

The reaction was imminent, the kiss broken immediately, a groan slipping from Sherlock's mouth, leaving the two of you a bit startled at the sudden response.

"I need you to do the exact thing again", the detective requested then, his tone demanding and firm, before smacking your mouths together again, a kiss hot and downright desperate for more, and you gladly obliged, fingers tangled in his locks, giving them another pull, which caused a reaction not so different from the first time.

Apparently praising wasn't the only thing that got Sherlock going.

So you continued your eager advances, seeing how far you could take this, brushing through his curls before gently tugging on them again, letting Sherlock's moan break the kiss, tilting his head back by his hair and baring his throat.

"How are you doing this?", the man groaned, almost hissed when you began mouthing at his neck, "I don't understand how you can have this effect on me."

But there was no explanation you could have possibly given him. Perhaps you just clicked with Sherlock and that was why.

You only knew how addicted you already were, how you couldn't get enough of the man's taste, the warmth of his body, the sweet noises from his throat and the thought that perhaps he really wanted you too.

Making sure to not bruise the skin, you kept nipping at the expanse of his throat, pulling on his hair times and times again, dragging more moans out of him. Your name passed his lips after a while, the softest sound, then a "Can we stop for a moment?"

Raising you head again to look at Sherlock – a delectable sight, slight blush on his cheek, lips swollen red from kissing, pupils dilated with need, a dreamy expression on his face – and waited for however long was necessary.

"Are you okay, Sherl?", you asked immediately, hoping you hadn't made him uncomfortable.

Apparently he just wanted to elaborate though.

"I am more than okay. I just need to tell you something", Sherlock replied, holding onto you by your hips, a steady grip, "As you have... um... figured, I respond quite heavily to your advances. I am puzzled by the effect you have on me, because I was always very convinced that I simply was not interested in things of a more physical nature. But you keep kissing and touching me and I'm not entirely sure what it means that my body reacts like this."

Quite passively, you continued to stroke the back of his head, listening to him as attentively as you could, trying to ignore your own arousal. You were going to work through this with Sherlock, not questioning his worries or uncertainty for a single moment, allowing him to take the time he needed in order to understand himself and what he wanted and most of all, why he did.

Of course, you had wondered before and you were still asking yourself the same question now. Had Sherlock even had sex with anyone ever? Everything about his words and his behaviour was indicating he hadn't. But he didn't seem to be all too nervous, instead content and collected.

Maybe you were even more nervous than him.

"You're turned on, if I had to guess. Which I find really flattering. And it's more than okay that you're feeling like this. I want you to enjoy this experience, so please don't let the unknown hold you back", you advised with a soft smile, "I like you, Sherlock. I enjoy being around you and doing this with you... it turns me on too."

"You know I don't experience and approach things like most would do. Sex has never been the focus of my interest, so I... I have never done this. I have done research, but I'm not going to know exactly what to do", Sherlock admitted, eyes flicking over your face, the look of consideration, as if he were searching for the right words, "You're... absolutely endearing. It's nice to have you around and I trust you. And I want to do this with you."

"So do I", you responded, unable to stop the smile slipping to your lips, thinking it was lovely how Sherlock entrusted you with his mind and body, how he wanted to share this moment with you and no one else. "We can sure figure out what you like best", you added, "Would you want me to take the lead?"

The man seemed to consider your question, although you were partially convinced that he was more so enjoying the quiet of the moment, your fingers brushing over his scalp, basking in the closeness, though simple affection usually was something Sherlock didn't like. Not with anyone other than you apparently.

"Would you want to participate in penetration? If so, I suppose I have no clear knowledge of which position would serve best, but I am interested in learning. Since you are the one with more experience, I find it only logical you are the leading part", he spoke up eventually.

"Fine with me", you hummed, "I have no preference either, but I find it quite comfortable on your lap, so perhaps we can work around that?"

Admittedly, your wet dreams always tended to drift in a direction similar to this. There was something submissive about Sherlock, something that made you want to take him apart, lay him out on the bed, mount him and fuck him silly until he was a desperate mess begging to come, and you were sure it would have been a beautiful sight to have him this way.

Since you were already sitting on his lap, your crotches pressed together, hands tangled in his hair, seconds away from bringing your lips to his throat again, you wouldn't mind it sweet and gentle either, letting him explore all you had, letting him consume all you offered, letting him take his time to harvest the information he needed.

Maybe one day he would like to take the reins, but you couldn't really imagine him as the dominant part just yet.

You knew exactly how you would take the lead, how you would ride Sherlock all the way to ecstasy, until the brilliant and smart detective would fail to find the proper words and fall apart under you. Oh, how you wanted to hold him close, wanted your bodies entangled and conjoined, wanted to be able to sense and enjoy all of him.

It was a silent and natural agreement between you, so you figured as Sherlock's skilled hands sought out the hem of your shirt.

"I'm afraid you have to stop touching me for a moment", he mused and went on to gently pry the thin shirt off your body as you complied. After all you had been together for all kinds of weird occasions and sharing rooms, you had been close to him before but never quite so exposed, not in a way like this. Never undressed for him to see or touch.

In comparison, you had seen Sherlock bare plenty of times before, naked and vulnerable, so stripping him out of his shirt in return was by no means unfamiliar. There was something about this level of intimacy though, the sensuality of his touch on your skin that already made you shudder with need, winding you up with anticipation.

It was Sherlock then, who so carefully let his lips ghost over the expanse of your neck, exploring bit by bit, spreading gentle kisses, teeth grazing the skin and you supposed he was not entirely distracted from making deductions just yet – how else would he have possibly figured how to strike a nerve within you?

Your hands wound up in the dark curls again, playing with strands of hair, tugging on them, using them to pull Sherlock's head backwards as the advances on your sensitive skin were too much to handle. You too were soon moaning, panting hard, a pretty rosy colour to your cheeks.

"I find it very enjoyable when you pull on my hair", Sherlock admitted to you and while he had previously held his hands very still, he couldn't continue to resist and began touching you more, exploring your body with diligence. He had never touched you or potentially any other person like this, so excessively. If you thought about it, no one ever really had been so thorough as him, trying to map out every inch, every crease, every little mark. It was as if he was memorizing you, cataloguing. Careful with you. Mesmerized by you.

You didn't mind his advances, had never been on the self-conscious side but under the impression you weren't really sporting an exceptionally beauty. If anything you were ordinary, and still... this man looked at you, touched you with utmost adoration, curiosity, interest. Like he couldn't simply get enough from you. Like he didn't want to ever stop again.

"I find most of you very enjoyable", he added.

"Likewise", you smiled at him, hands busy stroking his nape, his upper back, pale shoulders, skin flush with heat under your touch, "I suppose you figured out what's getting me going."

"I think it's fascinating", Sherlock mused, "Because I could feel your pulse quickening and your body tensing up when I began kissing your neck. I imagine these are the exact responses you could notice on me when you tug on my hair. It's fascinating how our bodies respond so impulsively to a variety of triggers in such different ways and..."

Not wanting to be rude, but also not wanting to let Sherlock ramble about the creation of personal preferences, you quickly shut him up with another kiss, sealing your lips together promptly, giving a sharp tug to his curls. It certainly earned you a moan of surprise and Sherlock seemed not entirely displeased about your decision, hands returning to your waist to keep you steady, maybe wanting to prevent you from slipping away, afraid of losing what he was just learning to enjoy, kissing hungrily and with the kind of fervour one didn't really expect him to have, every bit of what he had wanted to say forgotten.

Your mind ran quite blank too. You knew that you wanted and desired Sherlock, pressing further up to him, could feel heat pooling in your groin and knew that you were already aching for him within the restraints of your sweatpants, becoming painfully very aware of how you had decided to forego underwear altogether, meaning it was just a bit of fabric between you.

Starting to rock your hips atop Sherlock's lap, because you couldn't hold yourself back anymore, you figured you weren't the only one getting aroused, feeling his hardness trapped beneath the remaining clothing, soft groans leaving both your mouths as you ground down on his bulge, creating a friction that left neither of you unaffected.

"I need you, Sherl", you moaned against his lips, throwing the decision to take this slow out the window, too far gone at this point, wanting nothing more than to feel the man inside of you and ride him to the breaking point. You were so horny you almost whined as you moved atop of him and your obvious neediness seemed to render Sherlock speechless altogether, his gaze just as clouded with lust as he simply stared at you and you lost yourselves into each other, chests heaving hard, bodies melting together.

All he gave was a nod of consent and you started beaming with unrestrained joy, slipping off Sherlock's lap to come kneel on the bed, hands drifting up to the waistband of his pants. "Are you sure this is okay with you?", you still decided to ask. Even though the man had seemed consenting before, you'd rather have him be comfortable too.

Whereas you would have expected a snappy comment or an entire mass of words breaking loose over you, Sherlock remained rather quiet, nodding, the smallest 'Yes' slipping past his lips.

He seemed entirely enticed and you made sure to keep on looking at him, pulling the soft material down by the waistband and stripping him bare, carelessly throwing the clothing aside, once you had wrestled it down his legs.

To have him so exposed and naked before you was a sight to take in, letting yourself simply look at him for just a moment, your hands rubbing over those lean thighs.

"Fuck, you're gorgeous", you uttered, fingers gliding along the inner sides, brushing over wisps of hair, all the way up to his crotch, the hardening cock, taking the member into your hand, watching him twitch and grow in size. You would be lying if you said you hadn't thought about his cock after the first time, never been able to forget the sight, wishing to feel all of him inside.

"I...um... how do we do this?", Sherlock quietly asked, redness burning on his cheeks as his eyes were fixed on the sight before him, "How would you want me?"

"You lay down on your back, get comfortable and let me do the work", you advised and gave him a quick wink, watching Sherlock settle down almost immediately after your advise, more than eager. And wasn't it just the most perfect sight, his lean body atop the sheets, skin reddened with small blotches, traces of his arousal, his cock raging hard in the grasp of your hand, dark curls bedded on the pillow, dreamy look in his eyes as you looked at one another.

"There's... uh... lube and condoms in the bedside drawer", Sherlock muttered, like he didn't quite want to admit to it.

You shot him a pleased, but surprised expression. "Did you plan for this?", you wondered, reaching over to fetch anything you'd need from the drawer, "Or do you just keep them in your bedroom all the time?"

"I was certain that I had at least a seventy-eight percent chance you wouldn't refuse and since I have considered all possibilities that almost meant including the accomplishment of a sexual encounter, I thought it was best to be prepared just in case. As I have however opened up to you that I have no experience with sexual interactions, so no, I don't keep them here all the time, I've purchased them for this purpose... recently", Sherlock answered, his nervousness evidently easing again as he managed to speak mostly unaffected as he always did, the kind of rationality not unusual by any means.

"78 percent? You did the math and all, didn't you?", you grinned, using the moment to slide your own sweatpants off your hips, revealing your full nakedness to the man, whose eyes remained on you, widening, darkening, looking up and down your body, trying to seemingly capture every single little detail of you, lips parted and his pink tongue slipping through as he admired you.

At a lack for words, Sherlock just nodded, watching you return to him and slump down atop his lap again. You gave him a reassuring smile, reaching for those fine and skilled hands, placing them on your body as Sherlock remained a little taken aback, probably slightly overwhelmed with the sight and sensations alone. Though once he dared to begin touching you again, he got this look of fascination on his face, a spark in his eyes, tender touches on your thighs.

"Would you like to help me prepare?", you asked, knowing full well that with a curiosity like Sherlock's he would likely not refuse.

"I understand that it will make this more pleasurable for you, so yes, I think I'd like to", he agreed and you canted your hips forward, towards him, allowing Sherlock to reach out to you, trailing his fingers down your body, lower, across the expanse of your belly before slipping between your thighs, no doubt finding what they were searching for.

A heavy shudder surged through your body when he did, breath hitching in your throat as you felt fingertips circle your entrance. You knew the breach would initially feel unusual, not having had a partner in a long time and not being an avid user of sex toys either, but god, how you ached for him to touch you, how you wanted to just feel him. After adjusting his hand into a comfortable position for the both of you and slicking fingers up with lube, Sherlock slid one into you so easily that all worries were just leaving you at once.

You couldn't stop a moan from leaving your lips, even just one finger in, and wondered how much research Sherlock had actually done as you found yourself arching into his touch. It wasn't clumsy by any means, if a little more careful.

There was a pleasant tingle pooling low in your stomach, your arousal rising to indescribable heights in thorough interest of getting fucked, and your mind went blank when he pushed another finger into you, gently spreading you open with a passion.

"Fuck, Sherl, feels so good", you groaned, looking down at the man, who so gently and kindly fingered you open, like he wasn't doing this for the first time, like he wasn't a stranger to this at all, "Can't wait to have your cock inside of me."

While Sherlock did not seem to be one for dirty talk, remaining mostly quiet and fixed on you, he definitely seemed pleased with your reaction, urged on to continue his advances, fingers already sinking in deep and lord, he had these long and wonderfully skilled fingers that were certainly capable of finding the sweet spot. If you let him continue, he was no doubt going to make you cum like this. You were so obsessed with the feel of him already, bloody hell, his fingers alone, pressing further into his touch and technically begging to be fucked.

Trying to keep your right mind though, you thought it was best to request Sherlock to stop, knowing that as soon as you were going to ride his dick, it would all be over for you anyway.

The small break did you well as he withdrew his fingers again, not leaving you out of his sight for a moment. You shuffled back down on the man's lap, making sure to prepare Sherlock just as much, rolling a condom over his raging arousal, before drizzling a bit of lube on him, coaxing another grunt from him as you rubbed him up and down.

You weren't sure who was more gone on the other – yourself, cock-hungry and needy, positioning the tip of his hardness against your hole, already going crazy at the slightest nudge, or Sherlock, watching you with a dreamy and blissful look on his face, blushing hard, lips parted and breath stuck in his throat in anticipation as you eventually sank down on his cock, taking him all in, slowly.

Bodies combined, becoming one, groans and panting immediately merged into one as well.

"God, Sherl...", you mewled, filled out so sweetly. It felt just right. You began moving once used to the stretch of his length, fully sheathed within you, and tried to keep your gazes locked, save for taking in the entire sight of Sherlock once in a while – skin flush from arousal and the heat of the moment, his eyes attentive and almost adoring, full blown with desire, his chest heaving and sinking hard, hands almost trembling as he let them skim over your waist, your thighs and all he could reach.

"This feels very good", the detective acknowledged, only occasionally and shyly rocking his hips in time with your movements, seeming unsure and perhaps a bit overwhelmed with the sensations, "You feel very good."

You couldn't quite respond anything that would make sense and at a loss for words simply continued to move atop him, supporting your slow motions with hands perched flat against the man's stomach.

There was no need to talk about what was going on, neither for you nor for Sherlock, as unspoken truths were shared between you two, how well your bodies fit together, how good you felt and how much admiration you had for each other. You hadn't expected it to be like that, so intimate and fulfilling – to be honest, you hadn't even had expectations when it came to Sherlock anymore.

There was always this element of surprise about him, something unpredictable, and fairly said you hadn't even expected to get into this situation with him in the first place.

But there was this amount of comfort and trust that exuded Sherlock in the moment, being vulnerable with you, submitting to you, an unusual innocence sticking to him. It made you feel possessive of him and even more so, protective.

Though he never failed to surprise you.

While he had previously held back moving too much under you or daring to explore your body with more bold touches, he seemed to warm up to the idea of intimacy and sex, for that matter. Astonished by the suddenness of his motion, you couldn't hold back a gasp when Sherlock pushed himself into a seating position, sliding his arms around your waist to keep you steady on his lap, his cerulean eyes fixed onto you with curiosity as he observed your reaction, as you continued to ride him with long and deep strokes, one hand shooting up to support yourself on Sherlock's shoulder, the other drifting into his hair.

You swore you could hear him cuss under his breath, once tugging on his dark curls again, but since you were entirely overcome with a mass of different sensations and emotions, it really could have been anything he muttered. And all the same, you found it didn't matter.

Your mouths slid together again, tongues finding each other once more, and you rocked even harder into him, pulling on his hair over and over, wanting to elicit more sweet sounds from him, being rewarded with the most desperate whimper.

You were completely lost in one another, something you hadn't quite awaited, but very well welcomed. That was the thing about Sherlock, always seeming so put together, so closed off and shielded from the outside world, so focused on facts and information and logic - and yet he was far from all that. You only knew all that because he let you see.

Sherlock was sensitive, could be pried apart as easily as made whole again, he lost himself in the smallest things so quickly, searching for things to ease his thoughts and mind, prone to getting addicted to them. Emotions overwhelmed him and that's why he refused most human interaction.

But he wasn't refusing this, wasn't refusing you, because there was an unspoken trust between you. You didn't know where that trust stemmed from or how Sherlock truly felt about you, but this wouldn't be happening if he weren't convinced of you being trustworthy.

On the cusp of pleasure, you were both entirely gone, and all that mattered were the raw sensations, bodies sliding together, obvious heightened emotions pouring out between you.

Head buried in the crook of your neck, Sherlock was breathing hard, moaning into you skin, shaking in your hold as you continued to tug on his hair, causing him to twitch and whine and crumble apart under you.

You spoke the sweetest praises, words mangled with your own moans, your thighs trembling but still riding him with fervour, though you could sense your stamina failing you, could feel yourself being so close to the edge by the way your nerves tingled within your core, the way pleasure heightened immensely with each thrust, something building up, and yet you were only able to let go as Sherlock himself toppled over.

His entire body went tense, not to say rigid, tightening his hold on you like he was afraid of losing you altogether, a moaning and twitching mess as he was overcome by his own pleasure.

"You're doing so good, Sherl, so good for me", you found yourself whispering and it must have been a combination of all things going on, Sherlock falling apart and pulsating inside of you, keeping you seated on his cock with a tight hold, and being on the absolute verge of sexual excitement, that made your own orgasm hit, causing you take him exceptionally deep with one last thrust, rocking out waves of pleasure and arousal.

"Oh, Sherl, my Sherlock", you let out a heavy sigh, coming back to your senses fast, while the man still seemed a little absent, clutching onto you tightly, face pressed to your shoulder, where you could feel laboured breathing and an unexpected wetness against his skin.

You knew they were tears, but didn't mention it, stroking the back of his head with the comfort that Sherlock just needed, comfort that he often refused or wouldn't allow himself to get. Perhaps it wasn't even sadness, but relief washing over him, the sudden overwhelming feel of orgasming.

While his previous responsiveness to affections and especially praising had fired up a curiosity within you, it was this specific moment, just holding Sherlock so close and having him so vulnerable after just having sex with him, that caused your heart to swell as well as ache, mind heavy and clouded with so many thoughts and sensations rushing in.

You couldn't help but feel for him. For his sadness and loneliness and desperation, all things Sherlock would never admit to having, but all deeply rooted within him.

And you couldn't help but feel love. A love that shouldn't be, because that was not what you were to Sherlock. It was not the point of your care for Sherlock, it was not what his older brother was paying you for. It should not be the reason behind your thorough protectiveness of the man, behind you caring, behind... this and all you did for him. But it was. You couldn't shut it off.

Yes, you were Sherlock's caretaker and this shouldn't be happening.

You had already crossed the line of sentimentality and any professionalism by becoming his friend so early on. Any decision you had ever made for Sherlock's sake was painted by your friendship to him and therefore not logical but emotional.

It would be surprising to none that you had developed this love for the man and everything he was. Feelings couldn't be helped, of course not, and you doubted people close to the two of you were unaware of how much you actually liked him.

In the end, it wouldn't matter anyway.

Sherlock didn't feel and love like most people did, not to say that he couldn't, but the way he was and would always be simply differed from the mass – so it would be wise of you to expect nothing and accept things as they were.

And whether Sherlock Holmes could ever feel the same or something similar as you did for him, would perhaps forever remain a question unanswered.

#k writes #bbc sherlock #sherlock x reader #sherlock holmes #sherlock bbc #x male reader #x gn reader #sherlock fandom #bbc sherlock fanfic #bbc sherlock smut #sherlock x gn reader #sherlock x male reader #gender neutral reader

344 notes · View notes

pikatrainer99 · 4 months

Text

Branch from Trolls has PTSD, paranoia, depression, and anxiety and you can't change my mind! (Part 1: Trolls) (SPOILERS FOR A MOVIE THAT CAME OUT 8 YEARS AGO BUT JUST IN CASE 😅)

(This entire three-part analysis was SUPPOSED to be completed in its entirety by the end of May since it's for mental health awareness month, buuuut...I couldn't finish it in time (had to take a break and take care of myself because my PTSD has relapsed lately...AGAIN... I've been getting triggered really easily by just about anything and I hate it so much 😑), but at least the FIRST part is ready in time...so here we go!

Branch is my favorite character in DreamWorks' Trolls franchise, and for many reasons. One of them being that he is very relatable. As someone with PTSD, paranoia, depression, and anxiety myself, I find it easy to put myself in Branch's tiny Troll feet and feel how he feels. (I also headcanon him as autistic, which I also am, but that's a post for another day). With this series of posts I will be analyzing his character journey and how his mental struggles affect him and his life. I will only be going over the three theatrical films in the franchise in these analysis posts, because, while his mental struggles are ABSOLUTELY present in the TV shows, I haven't seen every episode of the TV shows and I have a lot to discuss with just the three movies because I love Branch and relate to him so much.

So, to start this analysis, let's take a look at the first Trolls film. When Branch is first introduced, he is a grumpy, depressed, pessimistic gray Troll, and the only Troll in the village who doesn't sing, dance, hug, or party.

He instead chooses to spend all his time working on gathering supplies and rations for his, as he says "highly camouflaged, heavily fortified, Bergen-proof survival bunker." He lives in the bunker and has enough provisions to last him ten years…eleven if he's willing to store and drink his own sweat…which he is (gross).

Branch always feels the need to be crazy over-prepared for everything (so do I), no matter how crazy it drives the others (same here). The other Trolls all say that he ruins everything by interrupting their fun and panicking that "The Bergens are coming!" when in reality there's no Bergen in sight and there hasn't been for 20 years by that point and he's just paranoid. To them, he's basically like the boy who cried wolf…or in this case, the Troll who cried Bergen.

When Poppy invites Branch to her party, Branch immediately declines, saying that he "wouldn't be caught dead at her party" before adding that all the others "will be caught and dead" because of how big, loud, and crazy it's going to be. Branch frustratedly declares that Poppy's party is just gonna lead the Bergens right to the Trolls, and they all just brush his warning off because they haven't had to worry about Bergens in 20 years. That night, during the party, Branch is out collecting more provisions and he looks at the party from afar, scoffing at the others and their carefree attitudes before retreating back to his bunker. Before he knows it though, Poppy is banging on his door because a Bergen attacked the party and took all her friends. Branch, in his paranoia and anxiety, drags Poppy inside the bunker with him and sets up all his traps as they sit and wait in silence before Poppy tells him the Bergen is gone.

Branch, still paranoid, doesn't believe her and says that it could still be out there "watching…waiting…listening…" He clearly feels like he can never let his guard down, always on hyper-alert, checking for any danger. This is a common symptom of PTSD - hyper-vigilance (I have this symptom myself), and it can contribute to paranoia, making it even worse (it definitely does for me, and it looks like it's the same for Branch).

When Poppy asks him to go to Bergen Town with her to save everyone, Branch, with no hesitation, says no, that they're not his friends, they're Poppy's friends, and that he's staying in his bunker because his bunker is safe. He takes her down to the lower levels of the bunker, and this is where we see some obvious evidence of his mental state. There is frantic fear writing ALL OVER THE WALLS, and it says things like, "Run", "Danger", "Bergens eat us", "Teeth in the night", among many other things that are hastily scribbled and illegible (though Branch has bad writing in general, so it's already hard to read, but my point stands). He's even got multiple papers with horrifying drawings of the Bergens hung up on that wall as well. I have never really seen anyone else in this fandom talk about the writing all over Branch's walls, so I'm gonna talk about it myself. It makes it look like the poor guy spiraled, lost control, and had a manic episode…or eleven.

(Seriously, just LOOK at all this!!! This man is NOT okay!!!)

He's clearly TERRIFIED of Bergens, and wants to do everything in his power to avoid ever encountering one (which, fair, they do wanna EAT the Trolls, so that's a valid fear). Branch's fear of Bergens though, is not a normal fear, it seems to be a phobia, which would explain the paranoia. Obviously there's something going on inside his head involving Bergens that will definitely be revealed later. (foreshadowing)

Poppy completely disrespects Branch's needs, wishes, and privacy by letting all the other Trolls into the bunker while she goes to save her friends that got taken. This kinda made me upset because Branch clearly didn't give her permission to invade his personal space like that and make his own home suddenly feel unsafe with everyone there going through his stuff all at once. He freaks out when it's "Hug Time" because he doesn't want to be touched, especially not by all these Trolls he doesn't trust, so he packs a backpack and goes after Poppy, saving her from some spiders.

(This is honestly really upsetting to watch, she totally disrespects and ignores his boundaries here and it hurts to see him freak out over Hug Time because I also hate being touched, which means I also dislike hugs as a result of that...I only willingly hug my grandparents, that's it, no one else, not even my own parents.)

The whole way to Bergen Town, Branch is gloomy, brooding, and irritable. He tells Poppy that the world isn't all "cupcakes and rainbows" when she asks what happened to him to make him the way he is.

Poppy and her constant singing get on his nerves, the worst instance of this being when she starts singing at night when he's trying to sleep, making him angry enough to throw her ukulele into the campfire, burning it.

(This scene always gets a laugh out of me, the way it's animated is just perfect comedy XD)

Singing is clearly triggering for him, which we find out why later on when he adamantly refuses to sing with the others when they're trying to help Bridget get a date with King Gristle by giving her a makeover. Poppy asks him why he won't sing and he responds with (probably) the most iconic line in the entire film (and not one that people seem to be able to take seriously…but I take it as seriously as can be): "BECAUSE SINGING KILLED MY GRANDMA, OKAY?!"

(His facial expressions here as he tells the story of what happened to his grandma are just...DreamWorks nailed it, and also the knee hugging pose...he's just like me for real 🥺)

We then see a flashback of a young Branch, happy and colorful, singing his heart out, but the Chef Bergen comes for him and he's so lost in song he doesn't notice, or hear his grandma warning him.

This causes his grandma to push him out of the way, and get taken instead.

Branch is so distraught by his grandma's sacrifice, that he loses all his happiness and becomes depressed, turning gray in the process, and vowing to never sing again.

(This poor child had to witness his grandma meet her untimely demise...and he blames himself for it...that's really depressing in my opinion, I seriously don't understand why people find this scene funny, it triggered my own PTSD really BAD the first time I watched it...I'm used to it now so I don't have my PTSD triggered by it anymore but it still hurts to watch.)

Now the bigger picture is clear. He's got PTSD and paranoia involving the Bergens because of what happened with his grandma as a child. His grandma's sacrifice also started his severe depressive state, as evidenced by him turning gray immediately after she got taken. When the flashback ends, Branch is staring silently and sadly out the window, looking like he's trying not to cry, his depression getting a hold of him once again.

(Again, DreamWorks really nailed the facial expressions here...he looks so broken 🥺)

I understand how he's feeling in that scene, my grandma is my LIFELINE, the person I feel the safest with…seriously I confide in her and tell her more things than I tell my own mom because I trust my grandma more…I even stayed at her house for a while a few years back during my worst mental crisis ever just so I could have the feeling of constant safety and less nightmares…so if something ever happened to her I wouldn't be able to live with myself. Singing is a trigger for him, and so are Bergens in general…which makes me upset at the others, AGAIN, when they sing the song that Branch was singing during that time…my thoughts were like, "Come ON guys, that song is probably the most triggering song for him…" As you can probably tell, I get upset with the others quite a few times whenever I watch this film, because of how they treat Branch. Eventually the entirety of Troll Village is thrown in a pot, ready to be served for Trollstice, and it's here where Branch's character development really becomes apparent. Poppy turns gray, quickly followed by all the other Trolls, and Branch looks around at everyone turning gray, like him, and, desperate to do something about it and help the girl he's now grown to love, he finally breaks his 20-year-long "no singing" vow as he begins to sing "True Colors" in what is probably the most beautiful scene in the entire film (I know it's my personal favorite scene).

(There they all go...turning gray...and Branch is just looking around at everyone, clearly upset by this.)

(His expressions here...you can tell he's thinking, "I've gotta do something!" And he does, and it's beautiful 🥺)

Thanks to Branch, Poppy and the other Trolls are able to regain their colors, and thanks to Poppy, Branch FINALLY regains his colors after 20 years!

(He's getting his colors back! I always feel so happy when I watch the True Colors scene, it's just so beautiful and satisfying 😌👍)

(They're so cute, look at them dance together 🥺! Broppy is best Trolls ship and no one can convince me otherwise, these two are PERFECT for each other 😌)

He thanks Poppy for showing him how to be happy, stating that "happiness is inside of all of us, sometimes you just need someone to help you find it", quoting one of Poppy's lines from earlier in the film. Branch now feels comfortable singing and dancing with Poppy and the other Trolls as they teach the Bergens that same lesson by singing "Can't Stop The Feeling", which helps the Trolls finally make peace with the Bergens after many many years of fearing being eaten by them.

Poppy is crowned queen, Branch finally asks for (and gets) a hug from her even though it's not Hug Time, and the movie ends.

(They are so adorable I can't take it!)

This is not the end of Branch's journey though, there's still two more movies to cover! I'll be covering the second movie hopefully soon, so I hope you look forward to that, and I hope you enjoyed this character analysis on Branch in the first movie! If I missed anything please feel free to let me know in the comments! I sometimes miss things especially with relatable characters because sometimes there are aspects that trigger me so I try to forget about those aspects, and sometimes the character as a whole just hits too close to home and writing analyses on them is too overwhelming because of that (Branch is one of those characters, so it took me ages to write this and gather all the GIFs and images...and also this entire analysis was written ENTIRELY from my memory of the events in the first movie, so there's that part too). Also please excuse the potato quality images and GIFs...I tried my best to find good ones but most of them I found are just REALLY bad quality so...sorry about that 😅

Okay, that's about it for this post! I'll see you guys next time for another Branch analysis, this time for Trolls World Tour! Catch ya later! 👋

#dreamworks trolls #trolls branch #character analysis #branch character analysis #this little troll is so relatable #seriously he's just like me for real #right down to the mental health issues i headcanon him to have #because i have the exact same ones #also let's not forget his autism coding...but i will probably cover that after i'm done with the mental health analysis #this was supposed to be fully completed for mental health awareness month but i couldn't finish it in time 😅#i hope you like it regardless #long post #pika's headcanons #pika talks

38 notes · View notes