Jason Isaacs hyperfixation
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Timothy Ratliff advises a waitress at his favorite private club/wine bar to get rid of her piercing, claiming it spoils her pretty face. This piece of advice ignites a cold, yet very enthusiastic war between them.
Series
- Part 1 of Jason Isaacs hyperfixation
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The summer of 1952 in Crimea, Georgy Zhukov spends in a fury, because he cannot make himself stop looking at his niece as no uncle ever should.
Series
- Part 2 of Jason Isaacs hyperfixation
- Part 1 of Red Moscow Cycle
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Horse soldier, horse soldier by Teawithmagician
Fandoms: Taboo (TV 2017), The Patriot (2000)
19 Nov 2025
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Zilpha Delaney, a mysterious widow and the owner of Delaney Shipping, proposes a deal to William Tavington, a disgraced ex-army officer: his title in exchange for her money—and his silent service. William Tavington agrees, thinking he can eventually take control of Zilpha and her fortune. What he doesn't yet realize is the true scale of the bargain he's made, or what it will ultimately set in motion.
Series
- Part 3 of Jason Isaacs hyperfixation
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Women of Ratliff family choose their champions wisely. And if Victoria places her bets of restoring the family fortune on Saxon, then Piper becomes a guiding hand to the weak: both Lochlan and her own father.
Series
- Part 1 of vipers
- Part 4 of Jason Isaacs hyperfixation
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 3,542
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 11
- Hits:
- 360
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“But you still need to be loved,” Piper whispered in his ear, winding her arms around his neck. “Supported. I love you, Daddy. I want you to feel good.”
Series
- Part 2 of vipers
- Part 5 of Jason Isaacs hyperfixation
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 3,657
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 14
- Hits:
- 326
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"Then she revealed the final phase of the experiment. The lake was the key. Sofie was the genius. My only moment of genius was to recognize hers. It was therefore not surprising when she one night crossed the threshold of my bedchamber. And there was nothing unnatural in the way I gathered the silken hem of her nightgown to help her lower her moistening flower onto my thirsting mouth."
Series
- Part 6 of Jason Isaacs hyperfixation
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The ice on the skating rink was quiet, covered in semi-transparent sheet of snow. But there she was. His Tanyusha. Skating them same boring little circles on a rink emptier than a politician's promise. All on her ownsome. She looked like a lost sentry posted to guard a bloody snowdrift.
That flash of her stupid red coat from the car window hit him right in the gut. Made him bark at the driver before he could think: "Oi! Stop the motor! Right here!"
Marshal Georgy Zhukov cares about his niece a lot. A whole bloody lot.
Series
- Part 2 of Red Moscow Cycle
- Part 7 of Jason Isaacs hyperfixation
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In the museum, you see a display of correspondence from British soldiers during the Revolutionary War. One set of letters catches your attention. It seems the dragoon who wrote it was writing to a woman who had rejected his marriage proposal.
Madam,
Do not mistake this writing for a renewed suit. That campaign is, I perceive, concluded. I write now from a position of clarity, afforded by distance and the singular focus of my duties. Yet even amidst the smoke and the necessary business of this war, a persistent, inconvenient truth remains. It demands, on this rare quiet evening, to be acknowledged.Series
- Part 8 of Jason Isaacs hyperfixation
- Part 1 of Greensleeves
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The Captain, of course, knows. Miller sees the data point—‘Senior Engineering Officer, location: Med Bay Quarters’—and chooses to delete it. It’s a calculated trade: forty-eight hours of feeding the famine, in exchange for months of mission-compliant starvation. He is a pragmatist. He understands that even the most resilient systems need maintenance.
D.J. spends 48-hours of self-containment before return to Earth in the company of the ship's Senior Engineer.
Series
- Part 9 of Jason Isaacs hyperfixation
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"You're my girl," he breathed hotly against her ear, his voice jagged and breaking with each thrust. "Mine alone. I'm going to fuck you so you never forget it. I'm going to mark you so deep that you feel me in your cunt for days. So you'll feel it leaking out, staining your skin, and know exactly who you belong to. So every bastard who looks at you will smell me on you and know whose you are."
Waylon makes sure Ingrid remembers to whom she belongs.
Series
- Part 10 of Jason Isaacs hyperfixation
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Anxiety kept him up for many nights while on the case. A gnawing fear he wouldn’t be there in time. Would be too slow to act, too thick to guess. That he would make a mistake that would cost the child’s life. Every such case was a replay: what if he found his sister then. What if he were not eight but thirty-eight. What if he was trained first by army, then by police to take down Big Bad Wolves.
What if he wasn’t powerless then.
David Slate, detective, suffers from PTSD as a result of childhood trauma. He wants to find a reason to let go, but it's hard. So hard.
Series
- Part 11 of Jason Isaacs hyperfixation
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She held his gaze. She did not look away. She did not blush. A slow smile spread on her face, a crack in the flawless facade. It was not gentle. She looked at him in a way that made the blood reroute in his body, a sudden hydraulic demand southward.
Yes. She knows the game. She knows the price and she’s already calculated the cost-down.
A dark, sugary pleasure flooded his veins. Bad idea, hissed the senior officer in his hindbrain. A political liability. An exposure. There's nothing you can't pay off, argued the CEO, arrogant on quarterly profits. I want her, said the stubborn lad from the Siberian frost, his voice clear and final. So take her.
She didn’t let him silence the internal committee. She held out her hand. A command.
“Your hotel is closer than mine.”
Vasili Gordetsky meets Vera Volkova, an opposition political journalist, during a classy art event in Paris.
Series
- Part 12 of Jason Isaacs hyperfixation
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A Benighted Nursery, or How to Break a Fairy's Spell by Teawithmagician
Fandoms: Peter Pan (2003)
15 Jun 2026
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The ferns behind him rustled. Not the skittering of a beast or the clumsy crash of a Lost Boy. This was the deliberate, weary sound of something pushing through—something substantial. He turned, the motion a slow, predatory uncoiling. His good hand instinctively went to the hilt of his rapier.
And he beheld a ghost. Or rather, a refugee from a world he’d half-forgotten.
A woman. A lady. She stood framed by dripping bracken, her attire a stark declaration of order and practicality amidst the chaotic fantasy: a governess’s dress, muddied at the hem. Her hair was a pale gold, not unlike the fairy-dust he loathed, but bound and disciplined. Her face was not soft with wonder, but sharp and full with fatigue that was profoundly, beautifully adult.
Good God. Has someone finally sent a bill collector to Neverland?
Darling kids' governess gets stranded in the Neverland along with her wards. While searching for the kids, she finds one a of a few real adults in Neverland.
Series
- Part 13 of Jason Isaacs hyperfixation
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Nina sets the mug down with a soft click. She leans in, letting the camera swallow her.
“Come home today. Not tomorrow. The evening flight. Cancel the dinner.”
“The dinner is with the foundation,” Hap argues. She’s pushing his boundaries and he doesn’t like that. Of all people, she should understand the importance of the dinner and the trip. “It’s the gateway to the next phase. The work needs that grant. Face-to-face persuasion increases the odds—”
Nina interrupts him. Her voice splinters, revealing the rawness beneath. It sounds like she’s been crying, and is trying to hide this fact from him.
“The water came back. In the dream. And when I reached for your side… it was polished steel. Just a gurney. An empty table.”
She does not cry now. She reports it as empirical fact. The fact tells him all he needs to know.In this fork of reality, Hap and Nina are co-researchers of NDE in the university of SFO, partners and lovers in a deeply codependent BDSM relationship.
Series
- Part 14 of Jason Isaacs hyperfixation
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Summary
The jaw still clicked. Left side, right where Danny O’Brien caught him with the bat. Michael worked it open, closed, open. Sounded like a busted screen door.
Hangover was a dull throb behind the eyes. Worth it. O’Brien was done. His crew was done. Nobody chased Michael off nothing. He was here. He stayed. He fucking won.
He pulled his phone off the nightstand. No messages. He checked anyway. Scrolled past Tommy’s name, Freddie’s, a number he didn’t recognize that was probably a bill collector or some girl from the Anchor who didn’t know better.
Her name at the bottom of the list.
Deshane.
He didn’t call. Just looked at it. The letters. Like a goddamn teenager.Michael Caffee is 27, prior to his self-imposed exile from Providence, and in love, even if he doesn't call it that.
Series
- Part 15 of Jason Isaacs hyperfixation
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It Is Not Good That the Man Should Be Alone by Teawithmagician
Fandoms: Sweetwater (2013)
15 Feb 2026
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Summary
The task was simple: splintered post was to be replaced with fresh timber wrapped in the hemp twine. Each element had its place and property. The heat pressed the garments against his skin, soaking them with sweat, making his overshirt go dark with stains of labour. Out here, the world was simple and known. It was quiet, save for the dry rustle of bunchgrass and the distant sound of the creek. A good quiet.
His hands did not pause as the thought came, strangely angular in well-sorted storage of his mind.
It is not good that the man should be alone.
This fic is a thought experiment in which I inverted Josiah as a personality. What if Josiah was a film negative to eveyrthing he is in Sweetwater movie? Autistic vs narcissistic, shy & at times non-verbal vs charismatic, a virgin Mormom zealot vs predator. If he was not a cult leader but a farm hand overriden by anxiety, what then?
Series
- Part 16 of Jason Isaacs hyperfixation
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Summary
He woke to the sound of his own snoring, replaced by a noise that might have shamed a dying horse. His half-strangled gasp earned him a dirty look from the businessman two seats over.
What the fuck did he just see?
He looked down at his hands. Not the hands of an ancient priest, thankfully. The hands of a separated FBI agent on his way to a new assignment. His daughter was dead. His wife was back in D.C., probably glad to be rid of his haunted ass. He didn't know what to say to her anymore. That he'd loved her? That he was sorry? Both were true, and both meant nothing.
But the dream lingered, like cigarette smoke that never really left his hair, his clothes, the space around him.
He felt twenty years younger. A phantom weight of a girdle, a different posture. In the dream, he burned with a cause. He was about to do something godawful he believed was right, which was a very familiar thing. And he ached—was it even a right word for it? Peter would suspect something more biblical, but nothing came to mind—for a woman he couldn't have.Series
- Part 17 of Jason Isaacs hyperfixation
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The mirror was old. Silver backing going dark at the edges. But it showed enough.
John watched her back. The way the sweat gathered in the hollows, caught the low light from the window. A sheen. Like silk. Like something precious.
She moved above him. Almost floating. Almost dreaming.
This was slow. Pained. The ache of it deep in his thighs, his chest, his chest most of all. But the pleasure—God, the pleasure—it moved through him like honey. Thick. Warm. Taking its time. Spreading everywhere.
She rode him like she had forever. Like time didn't exist.
And maybe it didn't.John Sullivan lost his wife to childbirth. He never thought to meet her again, in Rio's cafe, where he was trying not to go insane.
Series
- Part 18 of Jason Isaacs hyperfixation
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Summary
“Vivienne,” he warned, his throat trying to close at his words, his mouth dry. “You know I won’t be able to be as… gentle as you would imagine. I believe you know my tastes are different. What I desire is not what French novels might lead you to believe, and—”
How did one say such a thing? How did one tell the woman you wed that the pleasure you sought would come wrapped in pain?
This fic is a successor to the Greensleeves fanfic, which you might find in the same series. Vivienne Devereux accepted William Tavington's proposal and arrived to wed him in the colonies once the war was won. Her Willie turned out to be almost the same boy she used to know. Almost; and yet, a little different.
Series
- Part 2 of Greensleeves
- Part 19 of Jason Isaacs hyperfixation
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Summary
“It’s wrong,” she announced.
I didn’t look up. “The internet connection?”
“The fruit. The man said ‘custard.’ This is not custard. It has the texture of a moth puke.”
I finally raised my eyes to her, bemused. “Have you ever tried moth puke, love?”
A disgraced hedge fund manager escapes to another continent with his part-time lawyer, full-time lover.
Series
- Part 20 of Jason Isaacs hyperfixation
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,662
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 5
- Hits:
- 101