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#but like it doesn’t mean I have to be associated with it either
crypticmillipede · 1 day
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OK EXTREMELY NICHE CROSSOVER but hear me out !! Stardew Valley Characters x TMA?
(oh yea spoilers for some Magnus Archives concepts/lore? but nothing plot-related)
the 12 Stardew Valley dateable characters as TMA Avatars:
Abigail: Could see either the Vast or the Stranger. The Vast because she adores exploring, asks existential questions, gets lost in things. The Stranger because of her character arc as an odd one out, someone who just doesn’t fit in with the rest of the town, unnatural, an outsider. Also because of her potential connection to the Wizard.
Alex: Likely the Flesh, as a sort of Jared Hopworth situation. He’s always talking about his bodybuilding, it’s pretty Flesh-aligned. I could also see him as the Hunt? His obsession with going pro, reaching his goal, something that never really happens but he’s always chasing. Maybe he begins to hear the blood?
Elliott: The Lonely. Relatively new to town, all isolated on that beach, I bet it gets quite foggy. Or potentially the Eye? I could see his fervor for writing as a thirst for knowledge, in a way?
Emily: The Spiral. Strange, bizarre, cryptic, a manic pixie dream girl (and i mean this with love), she’s gotta be the Spiral. I could also see the stranger, but she has a certain level of approachability that’s more Spiral to me.
Haley: This is tough for me. Maybe the Flesh, as someone concerned with their appearance, but that feels kinda surface-level to me. This is a stretch, but what about a Dark alignment? The way she sort of refuses to intake information sometimes (ignoring you), bores easily, she could be compensating for an insecurity by presenting a certain way? In the dark, she wouldn’t have to worry about any of it. Besides, she does have that Dark Room… (i admit this one doesn’t really fit, does anyone have a better idea? spider maybe? or even corruption?)
Harvey: The whole weight of the town’s expectation’s for their only doctor, his stagnant dreams of piloting, Harvey’s got to be affiliated with the Buried. Possiblyyy the Flesh, simply due to his profession, but the Buried makes far more sense for his character to me.
Leah: Hear me out on this one—the Extinction. She’s got a couple dialogue lines focusing on environmental destruction and humanity as a harmful species, she’s newly moved out of the city and into nature, radically replacing her environment. She’s so isolated in the forest, it might sometimes feel like she’s the only one left. If not, then the Vast, most likely. Or maybe Stranger or Lonely? She’s got options.
Maru: If anyone in this group is Eye-affiliated, it’s got to be Maru. She has this thirst for knowledge, always building, always looking up into the unknown of the cosmos.
Penny: She’s got to be the Lonely to me. How many times has she sat under that tree, picking at the grass and looking out into the river? She’s so isolated, despite being around so many people. If not the Lonely, then certainly the Corruption, with its themes of finally finding endless love and community, a hive who truly understands.
Sam: This is another tricky one to me, but probably the Vast? He’s so easy-going and carefree, for the most part, it fits in quite well with the Vast mentality of ultimate insignificance and the freedom that comes with it.
Sebastian: Although the Lonely is probably the easy answer, I could also see him as the Buried, honestly? Burdened by the weight of all the expectations pressing down on him, by his stagnation in a town he wants nothing to do with, by his lack of freedom and desire for escape. He has friends, close friends! It seems to be more of his general circumstances that haunt him, rather than isolation, necessarily.
Shane: While i know the Web is primarily associated with addiction, I don’t really feel that Shane fits with the Web in any other way? I honestly see him more as affiliated with the Desolation, given his often self-destructive tendencies, and the way he lashes out at others. Shane seems to resort to alcohol as a harmful coping mechanism. Of course, I could also see him as the End, given some of his cut scenes, but the qualities of the End don’t seem to match him as well as the Desolation.
Those are my takes!! Sorry I couldn’t narrow it down more, but there’re so many potentials, it’s hard to choose a single option for each person! These are superrrr subjective and up to interpretation, so I welcome any additional speculations or suggestions !! I kinda wanna know how other people would categorize these guys tbh? anyways yeah sorry about the long post, my brain is rotten. perchance.
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puppyeared · 1 year
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Remember how they pointed out that Palistrom wood was becoming rarer? Because Belos kept over harvesting it and not giving it time to grow back?
The University’s tree is blue. Its a big ass Palistrom tree
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halfricanloveyou · 1 year
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i'm sure you've had other people telling you this but dream didn't make c!techno. technoblade made c!techno, and by dunking on c!techno's creator you are, in fact, dunking on a wonderful man who died from cancer at age 23 - not exactly a good look, imo.
a. do you really think dream magically became racist overnight and his friends were somehow COMPLETELY unaware of that fact until a twitter call out?
b. just straight up not gonna discuss either how all his fellow streamers didn’t leave until his racism blew up on twitter? probably due to revenue loss if they didn’t?
c. it’s sad to hear that he passed away very young but i did not say anything to indicate that i was making fun of his death. obviously that was not the point of the post and if that’s your take away then that’s a you problem.
d. i didn’t ask your for your opinion and i don’t care about it. tho i did explicitly say ‘correct me if i’m wrong.’ here’s the thing tho: everywhere, ESPECIALLY on tumblr, dreamSMP fans have continually lashed out at anyone who brings up racism in relation to it. i did say ‘correct me if i’m wrong,’ but after thinking about it more in-depth…i still stand by what i said due to points a and b. i did get the white youtubers mixed up but it’s still a pattern with these content creators. it has been in the gaming community for a long time.
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ddarker-dreams · 2 months
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Better The Devil You Know.
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Yandere Chrollo x Reader.
Warnings: Yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, discussions of past minor character death, and descriptions of anxiety. Word count: 2.6k.
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You awake to cold sheets and damp cheeks. 
It isn’t a peaceful transition into consciousness. You fight for each breath, a losing battle that swaddles your mind in thick fog. The vapors thin out as time drags along. It doesn’t dissipate in its entirety, preferring to linger and prolong your disorientation. 
You wipe at your face with your wrists, ignoring the sting accompanying the action. Hesitatingly, you appraise it in a ray of moonlight that snuck past the blinds. It’s clear, not crimson and thick. A normal product of a healthy body. You should feel relieved, you think. Every organ is as it should be. Your brain remains in your cranium, your lungs expand and contract, and your heart pumps, albeit at an alarming speed. 
It’s better than the chill of encroaching death. 
… 
You are alive, aren’t you? 
This question prompts an investigation. 
Nothing hurts. Your throat, maybe, but that’s a minor ache spurred from thirst. Your skin is warm and clammy. Peeling the comforter off, you squint, assessing your body’s condition. Weary eyes take in everything. Your socks, the lace trimming of your nightgown, its diaphanous midriff, then your chest. Everything appears in order.  
Would your incorporeal form accurately reflect your physical body? 
You shake your head. 
This can’t be heaven — no pantheon would be cruel enough to set the stage of your paradise with props from your captivity. 
It can’t be hell either. If it were, you wouldn’t be alone right now.
You blink.
You’re alone? 
Chrollo’s side of the bed is notably empty. He must’ve got up in a hurry, the sheets are in disarray. The adjoining restroom is dark and unoccupied, confirming he must be elsewhere. Your stomach churns. Determined to do away with this creeping anxiety, you get up, padding across the hardwood floor. 
The night gifts shivers and goosebumps. Wishing to ward off its unwanted advances, you wrap your arms around yourself. You pass through the door that connects to the common area. Although it’s dimly lit, you can tell he isn’t here. The attached balcony is similarly uninhabited. A quick foray into the study confirms your status; you’re truly by yourself. 
What should be a triumph or a relief delivers nothing but dread. 
You return to the common room to assess the situation. 
You’ve never been left alone before. Not without him telling you in advance, normally with a rough estimate of when he’ll return. There’s no way an important detail like that would slip your mind. At a loss, you dredge through your memories for some sign you may have missed. His voice pierces through your head like an arrow. You wince but ignore your body’s displeasure at anything associated with him. The unintelligible noises sharpen, forming consonants and vowels. 
The thrum of the air conditioner eases away. 
You’re left in absolute silence, until Chrollo’s voice fades away, replaced by another.
“... She was five or six, I think. Right around the age where you start losing baby teeth. There’d been this game she wanted and, y’know, kids aren’t rolling in cash. So she figured, what better way to pay for it than through the tooth fairy? I caught ‘er with my wrench, determined as anything, ready to speed up the process. It ended up being a little inside joke between us.”
Your lower lip trembles. 
“... That’s how she ended up getting identified. Her teeth, I mean. Wasn’t anything else left to go off of. I couldn’t wrap my brain around it. A whole life she lived, sometimes getting into trouble, but mostly helping others outta theirs. And to have that— all that— reduced to just… just a couple, couple fuckin’— teeth? What kinda joke is that?”
You fill a glass with water until it overflows.  
“Hey, tell me. Has that fucker ever mentioned ‘er? … Probably not, right? Probably never knew she existed in the first place.” 
Head thrown back, you gulp down the liquid, fighting the lump that longs to form in your throat. 
“Who knows? Maybe I’m the one in the wrong ‘ere. Hell, you don’t look much older than her yourself. I don’t— don’t wanna hurt ya. But…” 
Tears prick the corner of your eyes. 
“There’s no other way to hurt him.” 
Someone’s beside you.
You can hear their voice, though it sounds like it’s coming from miles away, carried over by the wind. Warmth sears your bare shoulders. You smell the faint aroma of sandalwood and amber. It’s distinct, this cologne that serves as an ill-omen better than any blackbird or cracked mirror. You couldn’t scrub it from your memory if you tried. That, or the scent of old books, leather, coffee, and red wine. 
You dig your nails into something — fabric, perhaps — but nothing grounds you. It’s like you’ve been transported outside of space and time. Existing, yet far from alive. Your stomach falls while your head floats away. Up, up, up, lifting you higher and higher. From this impossible vantage point, you sway, your limbs gleefully ignoring every attempt to regain control. 
And there it is again. Your name echoes throughout the atmosphere, beckoning you to acknowledge the sound’s source. 
Maybe you should.
Even if you’ll come to regret it. 
When you first met Chrollo, his eyes stood out the most, like the universe itself deemed them worthy of veneration. You found the gray depths captivating. The undertone varied, you never could ascertain if they were a cool or warm shade. All you knew was that once they found you, they boasted a vitality siphoned at the expense of your own. 
Presently, they can’t. Their unwitting host has been exsanguinated. 
“Where were—” You silence yourself, aghast by the implication. 
You’d sought him out. So desperate for an anchor, you would’ve latched onto the culprit behind your drowning. There’s no doubt he’d find some twisted satisfaction in the accidental admission. You shrink away, but the solid counter presses against your spine, halting your retreat. He doesn’t advance, you’d barely created any distance. 
“There’d been something that required my immediate attention,” Chrollo answers your unfinished question. There’s no thinly veiled derision or curiosity in his voice. You miss the familiarity. “Does anything hurt?” 
It’s then that you recall your predicament. 
You’re on the kitchen floor, surrounded by scintillating shards of glass. A pool of water gathers to your right. Chrollo’s bent down before you, wearing a heavy coat and a tint of pink on his nose. He must’ve come from outside. He stares unblinkingly, awaiting your verdict, which you deliver by shaking your head. There’s a dull ache in your tailbone but you keep that to yourself. It’s awkward enough that he found you in this state. 
You’re sitting on the floor with one leg extended and the other bent at the knee, allowing your short nightgown to ride up. The compromising position stokes your embarrassment. You shuffle around to maintain some dignity. In doing so, you forget the pointed glass strewn about. Before you make contact, you’re hoisted up. Chrollo foresees your struggle and holds you tight enough to thwart its success. 
“You’re alright,” he reassures, his sincere gentleness unbecoming. "Everything's alright."
He places you down on the closest couch and sits beside you. While you regain your bearings, he shrugs off his jacket, then drapes it around your trembling form. His scent and warmth flood your senses. You consider throwing it off out of spite, only to decide against it. You’d be the one to suffer the most. Chrollo remains unusually silent as you cocoon yourself in the thick wool jacket. It’s big on you, but not big enough to swallow you whole like you’d prefer. 
“Should I grab your propranolol?” 
Another head shake.
“Will you tell me what happened?” Foreseeing your tepid response, he adds, “Verbally?” 
You clear your throat as quietly as you can. “I got thirsty.” 
“Hm.” 
You both know he isn’t convinced. It’d be easy for him to poke and prod until you revealed everything — intentionally or not — but his lips remain in a thin line. You shuffle in your seat. The fabric brushes against your wrists, eliciting a sharp inhale. The burn is short-lived yet the memories associated with it rage on. 
“... Chrollo?” 
He blinks, likely unused to the sound of his name on your lips. “Yes, love?” 
“If that man killed me, would it have hurt you?” 
A shadow falls over his visage, like a waxing crescent transitioning to a new moon. When you shiver, it isn’t from the cold. Dark hair frames a far darker expression. His eyes narrow as if he’s trying to see you better, beyond your flesh, at the crux of your soul. You await whatever comes next, returning his stare with equal intensity. 
Finally, he slowly replies, “Yes, it would’ve.” 
“Then why was it so easy for you to kill his daughter?” You ask, the words weighing heavily upon you. “You might’ve liked her, if you’d gotten to know her.” 
The man revealed enough for you to feel like you knew her. Lana Ellis — a woman with an iron will, sharp tongue, and golden heart. She’d recently been hired to work as a waitress at a business that catered high-end events. Galas, celebrity birthdays and weddings, those sorts of things. It wasn’t going to be a permanent arrangement. Lana planned to ditch the gig after saving up tuition money, where she’d then aim for a doctorate in veterinary medicine. According to him, he’d squandered her college fund after the unexpected death of her mother; his childhood sweetheart. He said he’d never forgive himself or the Troupe. 
“She wasn’t s’posed to have been there,” he wheezed. “She never should’ve been there…!” 
Chrollo shuts his eyes. “What are you getting at, dear?” 
His words come out light, though they’re anything but. 
“She could’ve been me.” 
“Yet she wasn’t.” 
“But—!” Your voice cracks, so you take a deep breath and try again. “You… you deprive the world of people you could’ve come to like, be friends with, whatever! All for stuff you eventually do away with. How is that… how can you…” 
Righteous anger suits you. It's a sword and shield that requires no skill to wield, reaching for the instruments have become second nature. Their effectiveness doesn't matter so long as you can hold onto something.
“You don’t need to understand.” 
This isn't a parry or pivot, he's disarmed you.
“Huh?” 
“Yes… if anything, it’s best if you don’t,” he mutters, more to himself than you. His eyes find yours again. “I can’t make sense of your empathy any more than you can grasp my lack of it. If I could, you’d no longer be yourself. Your self-limiting, bleeding heart should remain as is. It’s the one part of you I’ll leave untouched.” 
You don’t know what you were expecting. 
You slump back into your seat. “... Don’t you think you’re overestimating yourself?” 
“Hardly,” he replies. Then, in a softer voice, “You torment yourself, love. This—” 
He rests his hand over your heart.
“—Hurts you more than anything I’ve ever done. Yet you believe it unthinkable I’d do away with such an inconvenience.” 
“So you’re a coward,” you mumble. The insult is uninspired but it suits your purposes. “You can’t handle it, so you took the easy way out.” 
“Rationalize it anyway you'd like.” 
Chrollo reaches for your forearm and coaxes it into view. His fingers brush along your wrists, where the man’s restraints left rope burn behind. The irritated skin is slowly recovering. The deeper wounds, those without a cure, will linger after the surface heals. They’re etched into your bones. 
“Isn’t going against your morals worse than having none?" Chrollo queries. “That girl’s father knew you had no involvement in his daughter’s death. You’re an unwilling third party, same as she was. And he was ready to hurt you regardless."
Your mouth feels dry. “He didn't hurt me—” 
Chrollo raises an eyebrow, causing head to flood your cheeks.
“—All... that... much. I don’t think he was going to...?” 
“No, not until he was intoxicated enough to stomach it,” Chrollo retorts. “We’ll never know for certain, darling. Thankfully, I interrupted before it could get to that point."
That point, that point, that point...
What could that man have done to you?
Chrollo appraises you like he's yet to decide on something.
After a moment passes, he leans in, his arm wrapping around your shoulders. Your muscles stiffen as he pulls you close. He exerts none of the force you know him to be capable of. The gesture's languid nature gives the impression you could wriggle free if you tried. You don't test this theory. Chrollo's mood seems pensive, not amorous, hence your hesitant compliance.
He speaks your name. Then, he asks, "What's really bothering you?"
Biting your lip, you turn your head away from him.
He doesn't relent. "You can tell me anything, you know."
If you weren't so utterly exhausted, you might've laughed.
"You wouldn't be my first choice for a heart-to-heart."
"How about your second?"
You look at him like he's just suggested the world is flat. He smiles softly, allowing you time to think.
It's weird.
This is weird.
The lack of verbal finesse, designed to extract any emotion or confession he desires. You're used to his cunning, his depravity, his unfiltered self. You've come to expect it, as one would the sunrise and sunset. Briefly, you search for it. The expedition is futile. His normal tells are gone.
Truly, you could almost forget the imbalanced nature of this dynamic and pretend it's normal.
It isn't, however.
So you'll need to keep your wits about you.
"Could... er..." you trail off, uncertain of the best parlance, "Will something like that... happen... again...?"
The claustrophobia of being shut in a trunk. Blindfolded, hands and feet bound, gagged by a rag. Terrified and sobbing. Unable to breathe, unable to scream.
You feel as small now as you did then.
The man told you his reasoning. It tugged on your heart. Wringed the organ for everything it was worth. He deserved justice. He deserved revenge. At that lone instance, the playing field was even. The immeasurable gap in strength between him and the Phantom Troupe's boss meant nothing if Chrollo wasn't physically present. There was a chance for this bereaved father to return the pain unfairly inflicted on him.
But why on you?
Why do you have to be cast into hell for the sins of another?
And why was it so tempting to forgive the devil's transgressions against you, if he provided salvation just this once?
You don't know when you began shaking, but you do know it won't be easy to stop.
"You must've been scared," he murmurs.
This observation makes your throat feel impossibly tight, as if a serpent coiled around your neck. His eyelashes flutter shut and he rests his forehead against yours. He contents himself on breathing in your air while you wrestle with the odd intimacy of it all; this simplicity untainted by needling or provocations.
"I never make the same mistake twice," Chrollo eventually says. "In light of recent events, I've made it clear that you are off limits. Those who still wish to try their luck, well..."
The air itself writhes like a malicious entity. The sensation is brief, but the impression lingers, chilling you on a primordial level. You're reminded that his control, while impressive, isn't flawless. Every surface can fissure, allowing the noxious contents contained within to break free. This concentration of ill-intent isn't even focused at you. To be on the receiving end must be to face the inevitably of death.
"... They can be made examples of too."
Curiosity nips at your heels, demanding satiation.
Your part your lips.
Then his eyes reopen. They're dull, lacking any illumination, like light itself felt the urge to flee.
It's an understandable sentiment.
For that reason, you decide some questions are better left unanswered.
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something i noticed
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A while back, I wrote this analysis reviewing how unfair the magic education system is in Twisted Wonderland. I would recommend reading that before this post, as it provides tons of context for what I’m about to talk about and add onto the discussion.
In 2-6 of the Tapis Rouge event, Vil has stylists from Luxe, a high end fashion brand, dress up Azul, Jamil, and Ace to be a part of his red carpet entourage. Once the boys come out in their new threads and makeup, Jamil and Azul, two individuals who are meticulous about details, provide some telling commentary.
According to those two, the team of stylists that helped them were mages. Azul further remarks that they were quite skilled mages and that having this kind of talent indicates a “first class brand store”. Their hair and makeup is also suggested to be done via magic, though this service is not normally performed for customers. Previously, we knew that skincare can be infused with magic (Vil does so with his own) and that magic can be used to style one’s hair (Jamil tells us in his Birthday Boy vignettes that he does his intricate hair with magic and used to take far longer with it when he lacked the precision). Idia states in book 6 that Jamil had no formal magic training before NRC, so that means Jamil was self-taught in his hair-handling magic.
… Okay but 😭 WHAT DOES THIS IMPLY ABOUT MAGIC AND CLASS??? Is it just a coincidence that the teams of stylists who staff a high class store are ALL mages? Surely not, given how uncommon mages are in the general population. The store (or maybe the brand itself?) must be going out of its way to hire them because I guess being dressed with magic is a more “luxurious” experience than the normal way. We can also guess from Azul and Jamil’s accounts that the degree of magic these staffers use requires significant skill and precision, which either means they need formal instruction or lots of practice on their own. Neither option is afforded to people with naturally low or no magic reserves at all 💀 meaning jobs like this are gated to mages only.
Now, this doesn’t inherently mean the rich and famous people who frequent these stores are also all mages (Kalim’s dad and Vil’s dad are two non-mages who are extremely wealthy and influential); the majority of them must still be regular people since humans seem to be the majority, and 90% of humans are non-mages. It also doesn’t guarantee that the Luxe stylists are paid more than a non-Luxe stylist (although I do think this is possible for a prestige brand, especially if we factor in commissions on sales).
What’s sticking out to me here is that there exists an association between magic and luxury. The reverse also appears to have some truth based on what little other lore we have; Ruggie states that there are not a lot of mages from his hometown, which could imply a history of non-mages being driven into poorer communities. It all fits together a little too well to seem coincidental… but obviously, Ruggie’s hometown is just one place and could be an outlier rather than the exemplar. We know that most non-mages must live an average lifestyle, not the extremes that Ruggie has experienced. Still, the claim that magic is typically associated with the upper class holds and it continues to be perpetuated in the lore.
Anyway, Fellow and Rollo were right—
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lilislegacy · 7 days
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Okay, I’ve been thinking about something lately
All the time I see people make statements about Percy that start with “Percy would never…”
Some examples I’ve seen: “percy would never kill someone/something in front of his mom” “percy would never yell at someone he loves” “percy would never get drunk” “percy would never let his child go to camp-half blood”
Now if you passionately believe one of those, hear me out. I’m not necessarily saying I disagree!
I’m saying… who would have ever thought Percy would torture a goddess and choke her on her own poison? And…. enjoy doing it? If someone had said that on tumblr pre-HoH, every single comment and reblog would have been “PERCY WOULD NEVER!!” I mean, who would have thought Percy would do a million things he’s done? He’s done some very not so ‘silly little guy’ stuff. He is an extremely complex character. In his own head and to some people, he’s sweet and fun and silly, but to many people he’s reckless and scary and dangerous. Some people see him as someone who’s very gentle and relaxed, but some people see him as someone who’s quick to get very angry and cause destruction. And the truth is, he’s all of it. It depends on his mood. Consistency does not apply to him in many aspects. He has consistent traits, like loyalty, humor, and bravery, but his actual actions and reactions are NOT consistent. I understand why we think Percy would never do certain things. We think we know based off of his past and his history with his mom, or with Gabe, or with Luke. And I’m not saying I think he would do those things, but unless he specifically states it, we can NOT, ever, infer what Percy Jackson might or might not do.
Like for instance, the drinking thing. I am not saying percy would be a big drinker, if one at all. And he probably does have an aversion to the smell of beer because of how the apartment used to smell when he was young. But we have no evidence that Percy associates all alcohol with Gabe. Alcoholic drinks aren’t just foul smelling hard liquors. There are a million different forms that you can consume alcohol in - some of which don’t even smell like alcohol, and barely taste like it. And in The Chalice of the Gods, it’s said that Sally drinks a glass of wine every night. And Percy thinks Sally hangs the freaking moon. So if his mom drinks, he definitely doesn’t believe that alcoholic beverages = the enemy. And here’s the thing, if Annabeth and Piper and Leo were all drinking and having a good time, like college students do, and they go “Hey Percy, come sit and have a drink with us!” there’s a very good chance that he’s so comfortable with his best friends, and just wants to let loose and be a college kid, that he wouldn’t even think about Gabe. He’d just be like “Sounds fun! Count me in!” But I don’t know. That’s the point. I don’t know. Maybe he would, maybe he wouldn’t. I truly think it could go either way. And even if he does drink, maybe he never - not even once - gets drunk. Maybe he’d drink in college and as a young adult, but when he becomes a father one day, he decides he doesn’t want his children to ever smell so much as a drop of alcohol on his breath, and therefore completely stops drinking. Or maybe he doesn’t ever like it, even in college. Or maybe he’s like his mom, and he and Annabeth just have a glass of wine with dinner. Who knows?
Not us. That’s what I’m saying. WE don’t know.
I’m not saying we can’t have headcanons based on what we know about him. I have a million. But the point is, I feel like we can’t try to pretend like we actually know what Percy wouldn’t do. As a fandom, we analyze him and his choices WAY more than he ever thinks about a single choice. He definitely does not think about his life and his actions as much as we do. (I’m not saying that he’s dumb or doesn’t contemplate his life and his actions, but he doesn’t nearly do it to the degree that we do.) Us, we pretend like it’s simple math. (Our first mistake, since math is consistent and full of rules, which is the exact opposite of Percy’s character.) We go “okay luke did this and gabe did this so therefore percy would never do this.” But Percy doesn’t think that way most of the time, especially not in heat of the moment matters. The only thing we 100% know about Percy is that he will always be loyal to his loved ones. But even then, we don’t know what that loyalty will look like. Is it sacrificing himself for someone? Is it murdering the enemy? Is it manipulating someone else? Percy lives in the moment. He doesn’t often think too much before he acts. He just acts. Whether it’s in a life of death situation, or his after school activity for the day. He is unpredictable, like the ocean. It’s one of his defining traits.
Honestly, I think that’s why annabeth is so drawn to him. With everyone else, she can read them super easily and know their next move. But with Percy, she has no idea. Which is frustrating to her, but also exciting. It’s a big part of her initial attraction to him. It’s also why many of us like him so much. We don’t know what’s coming next, and we never know what he will do in a situation. Like, how could we possibly know what he would or wouldn’t do when HE doesn’t even know? Half the time I don’t think Rick himself even knows.
We become so sure that Percy wouldn’t do something because we understand his character so well, right? But I think the truth is, the minute we become certain about what Percy would or wouldn’t do, is the minute we don’t understand his character at all.
Thank you for reading my analysis of Percy on why we can’t reliably analyze Percy
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thatanimeramenchick · 2 months
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Hi! I’m new and wanted to ask if it’s alright you you could do something for Yander Lucifer?(Hazbin?) if not that’s alright!
Yandere Lucifer Headcannons
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Ah, no problem, I’ve been waiting for this one. Out of all of the guys on this show, he is my personal favorite. I have suddenly become a fan of short kings. Also, hope you have fun on this personal little hell spawn known as Tumblr.
I feel like his character very much would be in line with soft yandere content. Despite being Lucifer himself, he comes off as very gentle and affectionate, wanting the best for those he loves, even if it means doing things that make them unhappy. He just wants what’s best for you. Or at least he thinks he does.
He also comes off to me as someone who is afraid to get too close to people out of fear of either disappointing them or hurting himself. Before making up with Charlie, he doesn’t talk with her much, seems to be internally clinging to the memories of the family he once had, and views most if not all of his citizens as too far gone to salvage. If he found himself with feelings for someone, I see him trying to push the object of his affection away, until something happens that causes his feelings to spiral out of control. This could be fear the of you being corrupted or permanently endangered; it’s something that pushes him over the edge to acting on the feelings he been trying so hard to push away.
Some of this manifests in being overprotective. He can present this as being a reasonable stance considering how dangerous hell actually is. Besides the typical problems of sinners running rampant and demons trying to trick you into deals, there are also angelic weapons floating around hell that you could be killed by even when it’s not extermination day. The idea of losing someone he cares for deeply in such a permanent manner is horrifying to him. He’d rather upset you by having you locked away by force than have you tainted by hell.
Has a jealous side, as can be seen with how he interacts with Alastor. Even as the king of hell, he can be quite insecure with his relationships considering his separation from Lilith and estrangement with Charlie. He can easily see other friendships in your life as competition, depending on who they are and how much time they want to spend with you. While he isn’t against the idea of you having any companions ever, he frowns on you spending too much time with them. Besides, they’re literally citizens of hell, why would you even want to be associate with them?
Tends to pamper you. He may have you trapped in a bubble, but he wants it to be pleasant for you. Anything that you wish that is within his power to grant he will do so happily. Your imagination is the only thing limiting you when you’re with him. Well, that and whatever restrictions have been placed on you to keep you “safe.”
Showing repeated frustration at his treatment, especially if you are being particularly passionate with shouting and tears, will leave him depressed. While he’ll try to hide it from you, in private there may be long bouts of self disgust and guilt. If you are lucky enough to find out about this and you’re particularly emotionally intelligent, you may be able to work this to your advantage. It’s your best shot at escaping him, as you’re definitely not going to be overpowering him any time soon and probably aren’t going to be able to outsmart him.
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suguru-getos · 2 months
Text
| Bully!Satoru Gojo x F!reader | Part 3 |
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Part I, II
Summary: You had just transferred schools, and your first day was an encounter with your new bully. He’s mean, terrifically hot & absolutely a menace. Though there’s more to that personna.
Chapter Summary: After taking an off from school, you are back & Satoru is hovering around you like a looming threat. Suguru is there to defend you this time, but with your rage spiralling, you couldn’t help but ruin the two weeks of you being amicable.
Warnings: Bully!Mean!Satoru ofc, but hey he’s a pookie at heart & he’s contemplating whether to stop!! ✋ Reader-chan snapped in this chapter, soft Sugu<3
Comment down below if you want to be tagged ^^ New chapter comes out every week!
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Satoru feels upset and sick to his stomach, as someone who can be often used to people grovelling for him, being scared of him, and just respecting him as the honored one. You weren’t doing any of those and yet, you were suffering all the same. Any other girl would have chosen the easy way out, what does it need really? Apologize? Cry a little? Why aren’t you doing that?
All he could see was you going back home, the summer sun not being kind to you as you drag your feet back, after carrying his school bag for him. Suguru isn’t talking to him either. He simply said he doesn’t like to associate with feminine men who want to proclaim their ego more than their humanity. Boy that fucking stung & Satoru told Suguru to piss off before he’s beaten to a pulp. It’s not how Satoru was treating you which was a problem for him, he never hoped it would drag so much. All his blinding rage of the moment is fading off easy. He couldn’t drag this for a month for the life of him.
People love hanging out with Satoru also, despite whatever worshipping there is — he still has friends. This is surely one of the reasons they lurk around despite his intrinsic, domineering brattitude. He rolled his eyes upon realizing that he’s been standing there watching you walk away & scoffs, going inside.
Your shoulders hurt but you know his and your home is too far. You decide to use whatever pocket money you have to book a cab and leave home. Once you’ve reached, of course there are questions. Questions from your mum who’s calls you ignored. “Where were you? Why are you coming home from a fucking cab?” She snarled, raising a brow at your tired features. Your parents are normal, not too supportive not too toxic. However, normalcy when you’re imposed with external toxicity sounds toxic. Or maybe they just were… toxic. How would you decide either way? It’s not like you’ve taken trial periods of new parents to come to a decision.
“Sorry; head hurts. I’ll be in my room.” You dragged yourself across the expensive marble flooring of your home. You weren’t poor, per se… you just weren’t made privileged either.
Once you reached home, you sighed, back laid across the mattress and staring out into space. The sight of you drenched in cold water, the way your shoulders have red markings of the bag straps, all because you threw some gravy over the fucking bastard! You grit your teeth, jaw clenching. Fuck you hate him.
You hate that you’re crying again, tears and frustration bubbling in your eyes as you sniffled. Leaning your forehead against the mattress and curling up. You want to kick his ass so bad. If only this parental thing wasn’t involved…
The next day you’re not in school, your period had been unbearably shitty & so was your mental health along with migraines. The next day either, and not even the day after. Satoru is getting restless every day, walking to your class and seeing your seat vacant, walking away. Why the fuck does he not have your number? Why the fuck does it even matter… did he make you leave the school? Nah- why would you leave the school it wasn’t that bad right?
It was Friday again, four days of you not being here… you really thought maybe he would count this in the month? It’s almost two weeks over! Then again, Satoru Gojo would just push it for another four days of you serving him because you were absent. When you enter the school premises, you take a long breath, alright. No biggie, he’s just an annoying bully with Daddy’s money in his pockets.
The moment you enter, you find him lurching towards you, a beaming smile with black glasses. He looks so beautiful if he wasn’t so fucking shitty. You looked up at him and before he could say anything, “I was sick, even in companies and where you work, people are allowed to be sick. You can’t really extend the number of days because I was sick. That’s h-how it normally happens.” You mustered, defensive in your stance.
Oh… wow. He was just here to say hello, ask where you were and that if he had been too annoying that you decided not to come to school. Satoru was going to be nicer. Again, broken a little because you think so shitty of him. Not that he cares… he doesn’t… he— doesn’t…. Does he?
“Yeah, yeah I get you; damn do I scare you that much?” He chuckled, hands in his pockets. You knew you couldn’t say any of the twenty ass biting replies that you had logged at the back of your tongue. “Yeah, you’re my highschool nightmare, Gojo san.” You hummed, walking away.
He’s shamelessly following you, holding your wrist. “Didn’t say I was finished, did I?” His playfulness is gone, replaced by something carnal, icy again. You only manage to shake your head no. “Four days at home got you forgetting how to act right, hm?”
Satoru leaned down, making eye contact with you. You glanced at him back, pouting helplessly and shaking your head no. “Just- didn’t think you need me.”
He didn’t really plan on it, he just wanted to have a conversation! Why were you sick? His stomach was turning upside down at the thought of you handling Japan’s heat at 3 PM that Monday. He could’ve asked if you wanted some water… fuck this. He made this bet to make you suffer & you were suffering. What’s the problem really?
The problem was he wasn’t an asshole he pretended to be… and he didn’t think this would drag so long. Haven’t you seen other girls? They fawn over him endlessly, buzzing around him & always eager to have a speck of his attention. This is what makes him pissed off, again.
“You think a lot for someone who’s as dumb as you.” He chuckled, jabbing at your self respect once more like it’s free reign. “Sorry, tell me what is it you need from me?” You just ignore everything he says and focus on one goal. For this hellish month to end so you are free from Satoru Gojo’s clutches. Though with the way he talks to you, it does seem like you could handle your mother taunting you for months about how stupid you are after giving him the money. At least… she’s blood.
“Hey” the next voice that echoed was Suguru. He was the best friend who was around him of course. You remember his gaze, it wasn’t pity towards you when Satoru practically bore you naked in the cafeteria by spilling water over your white shirt. It was rage, subjected for Satoru & Satoru alone.
Satoru raised his brow, “Don’t interfere where you’re not needed, Suguru.” He snapped, while the latter only smiled in an annoyingly calm manner. “Wasn’t talking to you.” He simply answered your bully, looking at you. “Welcome back, I thought you had left the school.” He smiled, giving you the same popsickle that Satoru had you fetch.
You didn’t take it from him, why is he so hell bent on making things worse for you? Though his act of kindness doesn’t go unnoticed. It was like rain on lava. Bubbling emotions rushing down as you couldn’t help but blink furiously to evade the tears you find coming. “N- no, I’m uh… okay. I was just sick.” You managed, gnawing at your lip and wanting the world to swallow you whole. People on their way to classes were already seeing you between the two hot-shots of the school.
“So you can cry huh?” Satoru laughed, almost in disbelief. This is what he wanted didn’t he? Anything said by Suguru which made you emotional had you snap back instantly. “Do you need anything from me or can I go to class?” You say with such hatred it’s truly shocking.
“Yeah, write one thousand times that you will not leave my side until I’m not finished talking.” Satoru says simply, oh he’s pulling off Suguru’s rage on you now.
“You don’t have to do shit- it’s-” before Suguru could say anything else, you nodded. “Mkay. Can I go to class now?”
Satoru gnawed at his lip, he didn’t want today to be like this. He really thought he could make some progress. “Yeah, handwriting can’t be shitty or you rewrite.” He pushed your boundaries once more, hoping to earn a reaction out of you yet again.
“Understood.” You nodded, walking away. Just two more weeks… just, two more weeks.
During the lunch time, you go to him naturally. “Heh, shouldn’t she sit on the floor?” One of his classmates smirked when you walked to him. Oh?
“Shouldn’t you lay down on the floor?” You asked him, before launching a kick right at his face, knocking him unconscious as he dropped down. Wow… everyone was stunned, including Gojo Satoru. Another reminder that he only has you on a leash because he played dirty, another reminder that you are different.
He snickered, of course he wouldn’t chide you for kicking some random asshole’s ass? He would’ve done the same. How he treats you is his problem. Though, you’re pissed, “This is what I didn’t want.” You looked at him, gritting your teeth. “You treating me like shit gives other people the right to treat me like shit.”
You were… wrong. This wouldn’t end after a month? What were you even thinking? There would be other people who would rise up after him to bother you. “I’ll get you the fucking money to shove far up your pathetic ass.” Here you go, losing it again…
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laughinglynx · 2 years
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prettyflyforawhitelie · 2 months
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I love your Husk pieces! He's my favorite =^.^= I wanna hug the shit out of him 😆
If you have time, could you do one where Charlie planned a movie night for "bonding" lol and the reader ends up falling asleep on Husk? Everyone ships them and encourages him to confess to her? So much fluff please! Thanks hon! ^.^
A/N: This is so adorable!! Love this! I hope you enjoy! XD
Pairing: Husk x fem!Reader
“Until I Smile at You” - Husk x Reader
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After living at the Hazbin Hotel for a while, Charlie’s “trust exercises” had become less of an annoying nuisance and simply a part of daily life. Actually, they were kind of refreshing and - dare you say - fun! They ranged from trust falls and share circles to your personal favorite - movie night. Movie night happened once a week and every week the person who chose the movie rotated. This week was supposed to be Angel’s turn, but ever since he chose his movie to be the most graphic porn anybody had ever had the displeasure of seeing, he was banned from choosing the movies. Instead of Angel, the group decided to let Alastor choose. He was always a marvel, as his movies ranged from silent films to disgustingly gorey horror movies. Tonight, however, he picked a noir detective film that he enjoyed while he was still alive (not before endlessly complaining about how radio is the superior media form, though).
One thing that nobody could stand about Alastor’s movies was how much he talked during them. I guess it's because he's so used to working in radio that he cannot comprehend that maybe, just maybe, not everybody wants to hear his voice all the time. He would either explain every little detail about the leading actors or talk about a living memory that he associated with the specific scene.  This night, though, Alastor seemed so enamored by the movie that he was completely silent. You were sitting on the couch with Alastor, Angel, and Husk, and found your eyes getting slightly heavier with every passing minute. The combination of the dark room, boring movie, and precious silence was just what you needed to drift into a peaceful slumber. Slowly resting your head and body on the irresistibly soft and warm cat demon beside you, your consciousness fades in and out until your mind is finally met with sleep.
The second Husk felt your head meet his shoulder in a gentle embrace, he froze. He had only ever imagined this happening, and was nowhere near prepared for it to actually happen tonight. Despite his hard and tough facade, Husk craved nothing more than soft affection, and knowing that you trusted him enough to not disturb your slumber flattered him. He remained completely still (so as not to wake you) for more than an hour until the movie finished. Charlie, using the remote to find another movie, said, 
“Thank you guys for spending tonight with me! This was amazing! I think I’m going to put on another movie, if anybody wants to stay down here, but you’re welcome to go upstairs and go to slee-'' she is cut off when she turns around to see you asleep on Husk, practically beaming with joy. “AWWWWW-” she is cut off by Husk’s “Shh!”, partially because he is embarrassed but also because he doesn’t want you to wake up in embarrassment. This caused everybody’s attention to turn to the two of you, not quite as surprised as Charlie.
“I mean, are we shocked? He’s been fawning over Y/N ever since she moved in. Don’t shame the poor guy…” Angel says in a mocking tone.
Everyone’s eyes slightly divert, not wanting to completely show that Husk’s attraction to Y/N is anything short of obvious.
“Shut the fuck up, man” Husk replies. 
“I’m not saying that she’s told me that she likes you back… buuuuut you should definitely just tell her. Trust me.” Charlie says, literally gleaming with excitement. 
Hearing this, Husk’s insides flip, his internal monologue running wild.
‘Did she- does she- could Y/N actually like someone like me? She’s just so… perfect. I don’t deserve her. But - let’s just - don’t get your hopes up, man. This could just be Charlie being Charlie, saying shit to make people leave their comfort zones or something.’
“Alright idiots, let’s not wake her up.” he says, sighing and gently picking you up. 
“I hear a single word about this tomorrow, and I’ll kill ya.” he says, while quietly walking to your room. 
He rolls his eyes while listening to Angel making fun of him and Charlie trying earnestly to defend you guys, saying something along the lines of “But this is how Vaggie and I started to fall in love!”
Opening your door as quietly as possible, he gently places you down on your bed. Covering you with blankets, he turns to leave until he hears your soft voice call to him:
“Was all that stuff they said about you true?”
Shit. You heard? Should he deny it? Pretend he didn’t even hear you?
“What?”
Deny it is.
“The stuff that Charlie and Angel said… about you liking me. Is that true?” you ask.
“I don’t know what kind of dream you were having, but everyone was dead silent during the movie, because, yknow, bonding time or whatever.”
He was avoiding your gaze until now, hoping that you would just accept the lie and go back to sleep. Instead, when he looked at you, he was met with your disbelieving face staring right back at him. 
“Mhm.” you say sarcastically. 
Moments of awkward silence lead to Husk trying to make a quick escape, muttering goodnight and walking to your door. He’s halfway out of the doorway when he hears your voice again.
“It’s a shame, I was hoping that what they were saying was true.” you say teasingly, just loud enough for him to come back into the room.
“What did you say?” he asks.
“Oh, nothing” you reply, smugly. 
“Don’t do that.” he says, clearly intrigued but trying to seem annoyed. 
“Do what?” you say, teasingly.
“Satan, just tell me what you said. I don’t like playing games.” he says.
“Oh, but, clearly you do, if you’ve been ‘fawning’ over me since the day I've walked in,  yet.. said nothing.”
He looks - embarrassed. Almost hurt. 
“Fine, yeah, I like you. No need to rub it in and be an asshole about it, I know you don’t like me.”
You look at his diverting eyes and immediately regret your teasing tone.
“Oh, Husk, I wasn’t making fun of you, I was just being stupid. Come here.” you say, patting the spot next to you on the bed. 
He sits next to you, looking confused.
“Here.” you say, while holding his hands in yours. 
“Listen. I wasn’t trying to embarrass you. I’m sorry if it came across that way. I mean, obviously I like you too. Was it not clear?” you giggle. 
Husk’s eyes widened in shock.
“What- I mea- You like me? Why?” he blurts out.
“Why? Come on, don’t be dumb. You’re the funniest person I know, you’re always willing to listen to me, and you’ve never once turned me away when I needed help. And, you're truly handsome, but that’s just a bonus. You’ve made being trapped in Hell actually enjoyable, which is something that you should be proud of. I wake up everyday excited to see you, to talk to you. I just wish you would've told me that you liked me sooner (and yourself)” you say.
Husk’s eyes are glued on you like you’re the last thing he’ll ever see, like he has to memorize your every feature before he blinks. He has never been more enamored with anybody before. 
In lack of a better response, all he can blurt out is, “Thank you!?”
You giggle, a slight blush creeping up your face. 
“And you are clearly tired. How about you sleep in here tonight? We can cuddle, or talk, or just sit with each other.” you ask.
“That - That sounds great.” he says, truly letting his guard down for the first time in years. As he lays next to you, finally becoming truly comfortable, he swears that he can see a white, fuzzy hand holding a phone by the slightly-ajar door.
“Angel, if that’s you by that door right now, you’re gonna want to run.”
You can hear the spider’s screams of “I GOT IT GUYS! THE FULL VIDEO!! AHAHAHAHA!” as Husk reluctantly leaves the bed.
“Excuse me,” he says, “I’m gonna go take care of this. I’ll be back.”
As he leaves, you start to realize how you got from the couch to the bed in the first place. Smiling to yourself, you savor the fact that, though you were condemned to eternal damnation, these people that you have found could not have created a better heaven for you.
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wonysugar · 9 months
Text
if you insist | jang wonyoung
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synopsis: jang wonyoung, the biggest fuckgirl on campus, asks you, y/n l/n, an honors student, to study together after classes
pairing: scum!wonyoung x goodgirl!femreader
genres: college au, smut with plot lowkey and tbh that’s it help
tags: g!p wonyoung, college au, wonyoung is a fuckgirl, reader doesn’t know wonyoung has a dick, facefucking, cowgirl, wonyoung doesn’t care how reader feels in the beginning, wony is insufferable in this (sorry it must be said), some texting, reader and wony are both vers switches
warnings: none? just be mindful that wy kinda sucks at first but then we grow to enjoy her me thinks! (and she also has a dick so that’s that)
word count: 3.3k
a/n: i wasn’t originally gonna make her have a g!p but inspiration struck me and i just had to. also, sorry for taking so long with this!! i truly hope you enjoy it<3
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“so, any questions?”
that sentence alone wakes basically most of the class up from their deep sleep, this is one of - if not the - most boring class in your program. every session of his is a literal snoozefest, you hadn’t slept well last night so this would’ve been your chance.
but you still managed to stay awake, you needed to ace this next test, keeping a streak of good grades is your main source of dopamine, so failing it was out of the question. well, it’s not like you failed any of them, anyway.
the class comes to an end and the students all pack their stuff to leave. as you put your books away, jang… wonyoung walks up to you? ‘what the hell does she want?’ you think to yourself. she leans on the desk and runs a hand through her long straight dark hair, her other hand inside of her gray hoodie’s pocket. you look at her up and down, then finally set your eyes on hers.
“what do you want?” you annoyingly ask her, grabbing your bag and jacket, her being the only thing holding you back from leaving.
“why so uptight, girl?” she grins, looking back at her friends as they laugh at this whole interaction. her friend group was a bunch of ugly frat guys, you weren’t surprised she associated herself with them though, she’s the exact same (just, much hotter). “i was just gonna ask you if you were busy later, baby.” not-so-subtly eyeing your every curve, even slightly tilting her head to catch a better glimpse of your ass, cheekily smiling.
you roll your eyes at the girl, “i don’t want to fuck you, wonyoung. now, if you’ll excuse me-“
then, she leans in, her taller figure towering over you and stopping you from moving forward, your heart skips a beat, despite you not really wanting it to, “who even mentioned sex, y/n? oh you totally picture me naked.” she smirks, peaking glances at your lips.
“get to the point. what do you really want?” you coldly respond, trying to not pay too much attention to her literally staring you down.
she backs up from you, chuckling as she readjusts her already good looking hair. “chill shawtyy, it was a jokee.” you glare, “anyways, i was just wondering if you wanted to study together later, back at your dorm? i barely listened in class, i’d like to actually understand the lecture this time.”
study together? actually understanding the lecture?? since when did this girl ever care about studies?
“oh, so now you’re trying to get good grades, jang wonyoung?” you say with a scoff, earning a playful smile from her in response.
“i guess that seeing you work so hard motivates me, l/n y/n.”
i mean, what could go wrong? if she’s really trying to improve her grades, then who were you to stop that? that would just be wrong of you. plus, it doesn’t look like she’s lying, either. you notice the hopeful look in her eyes, is she waiting for you to accept? you chuckled,
“i’ll think about it.” you say as you walk past her. then, making you jump, she slaps your ass before putting her hood on and jogging over to her friends, earning a high five from one of them as they all laugh. she looks over to you and winks, “see you later, mama.”
you can’t lie, that pet name sent a chill down your spine and you unfortunately couldn’t tell if it was a good one or not. could it even be considered a pet name? anywho, you walk to your next class, excited to see what the rest of the day brings you. and you kinda wish it involved wonyoung, because despite denying it, you did find her very attractive.
you’ll just have to wait and see.
-
after getting wonyoung’s number from your very ‘popular on campus’ friend, huh yunjin, you’re hesitant to text her. i mean, it’s not like your life right now is all that interesting to begin with, so maybe flirting with a fuckgirl is gonna help you kill your boredom.
smiling to yourself, satisfied with your decision, you grab your phone and type a quick message as you make your way to the exit. after saving her contact, you’re about to set your phone back in your pocket, and you get a notification.
she already responded? you open your phone and type out your next responses as you see her messages.
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what?
and she just leaves you on delivered after that? what the fuck is wrong with her.. and what the fuck is wrong with you, why are you getting butterflies?? this is anything BUT cute. the typos? the winky face?? god you can literally visualize her smirk just from reading her messages. despite all of that, you giggle to yourself, but then quickly mentally beat yourself up for it. she’s just joking, is what you thought. you type out your dorm number and put your phone back in your pocket.
you get in your car then drive to your shared apartment. upon arriving, you immediately start rearranging the place. i mean, it’s not like she would care about your dorm looking pretty anyway, since hers probably doesn’t look any better. you’re doing this for your own self, you told yourself. thank god your roommate wasn’t home that day, you’d have a lot of explaining to do.
hours quickly went by as you cleaned up everything, you turn on your phone, reading the clock, 5:54 pm.
she’ll be here soon. you mentally prepare yourself, putting on different, more comfy-looking clothes, then proceed to sit on your couch. bouncing your leg up and down as you await the ringing of your doorbell, looking at the progressing time on your hanging clock. ‘why am i freaking out over this?’, you think to yourself. it’s not like you’re meeting a date, plus she’s probably gonna be late. reassuring yourself, you come to the conclusion that it’s because you haven’t received someone over in so long. of course you’d be exci-
ding dong!
quickly, you rush to your door and open it, finding the taller girl, wonyoung, leaning against the door frame. well, she’s surprisingly here on time. she’s wearing a backwards cap, a black zip up jacket over a white oversized t-shirt and some gray sweatpants.
you weren’t expecting anything grand coming from her, so the look doesn’t faze you.
she smirks at you eyeing her outfit, “did you miss me, bae?”, making you sigh as you roll your eyes, stepping aside to let her in.
“you’re on time, that’s surprising.” you say in a condescending tone. in response, she chuckles, taking off her jordan’s, “how could i keep you waiting?”
she steps foot into your house, observing everything, but only for a quick moment.
“damn, you keep this place neat though huh?” right as you were about to brag about being a very organized person, unlike her, she quickly cuts you off, “yeah sooo…. where your room at?”
you give her a look of disbelief.
“god, y/n, it’s so that we can study properly. who the fuck studies in the living room?” you process that for a moment and look away from her in slight shame, she probably didn’t even mean it like that. then, as you’re about to apologize,
“that text i sent you is still on your mind, hm? you’re cute.” she says, chuckling as she’s grabbing your waist, gently pushing you against one of your hallway’s walls. you unintentionally gulp, looking into her eyes, then at her lips.
“you want me to, don’t you? you want me to fuck your brains out?” leaning into you, she whispers against your ear. you can feel her hot breath on it, making you shiver. but instead of actually doing anything, she quickly steps away from you, a smirk plastered on her face.
what the fuck.
“no but seriously, where’s your room shawty?” she nonchalantly asks, as if she wasn’t all up on you not even 5 seconds ago?? god, what is with this girl? you just blink at her in complete disbelief and confusion, then lead her to your room.
-
“so that explains why that phrase could be interpreted as a lot of different things. does that make sense?” you ask her, her gaze instantly meeting yours, like she wasn’t looking at the book. was she even listening?
“…what are you looking at.” you coldly add.
“sorry, i wasn’t listening.” she smirks, still looking at you, eyes darting back and forth between your lips and eyes. you scoff, mumbling an annoyed i know as you close the book in question, sitting up. you’ve had enough, she’s driving you insane.
“look, if you’re just here to sit around and do nothing you might as well just leave. i mean, you’re not even paying attention nor are you fucking me right now, so this just seems like a waste of time.” you snap at her. in response, her eyes widen, she definitely wasn’t expecting you to be so blunt. she then grins.
“which one are you waiting for me to do?” she smirks, getting closer to you.
frustrated at yourself for even wanting wonyoung to do you in the first place, an annoyed “fuck you.” was all that could come out of your mouth.
“i mean, if you insist.” she smirks, and places her lips onto yours, forcefully and roughly. quickly, she brushes her tongue along your lips, asking for entrance. you part your lips, allowing her tongue to roam around your mouth. before you could even realize, she was on top of you, her jacket and cap off and her hard on pressing on your stomach.
wait. her.. hard on???
you quickly push her away in surprise. she looked at you, a confused look painted on her face. “what?” she asks you.
“y-you. you have a dick??” you hesitantly ask her back. it’s not that you were against it, quite the opposite, even. but, it just caught you by surprise. since when did she… okay, dumb question.
she scoffs in amusement, “I thought everyone knew that? why do you think straight girls like me so much?”
ugh, nevermind, she was so much hotter when she wasn’t talking. before you could say anything else, though,
“you wanna see it, y/n?”
you reluctantly nod, earning a sly smile from her. quickly, she grabs the waistband of her not-so-boner-proof sweatpants and pulls it down, revealing black calvin klein boxers, her cock poking through.
“take it off.” she basically orders you, making you glare at her. you didn’t like listening to anything wonyoung said, but saying you were horny would be an understatement and you didn’t feel like stalling. you pull the boxers down, making her throbbing dick bounce up at you before sitting up.
dear god, it was big. you couldn’t exactly blame the girls who begged to fuck her anymore, cause if you knew it was that huge before, you would have thought about it a lot more. it’s girthy and veiny while being slightly above average size. it’s weirdly pretty for being used to fuck a bunch of girls, you keep that to yourself, though. you don’t wanna inflate her already huge ego.
before she could say anything arrogant about her size, you put the head in your mouth, slowly circling your tongue around the tip. quickly, you work towards taking the entire length as she groans and throws her head back. suddenly, though, as you’re still sucking, she unexpectedly grabs your head and forces her cock all the way down your throat, earning a gag from you and a moan from her.
“you were going too slow.” she specified, groaning and relentlessly fucking your throat. you would never admit it outloud, but you loved the way she was roughly pulling on your hair, using your mouth to get off. it hurt your ego, your pride, being used by a fuckgirl like this, being used by wonyoung like this. it was degrading, but you still loved it.
you keep letting her handle you like this for a long while, working your tongue on her tip and shaft in the process of her moving your head up and down her cock. hair all on your face, you didn’t even bother tying it, you liked it messy, and she apparently did too. her moans and groans getting higher and shorter, her grip getting tighter, you can only assume that she’s getting closer to finishing.
“fuck baby.. you’re gonna be good and swallow it all, okay?” she said, still using your throat. soon enough, she lets out a long moan and you quickly feel her dick slightly throb, spurting out a warm and thick liquid everywhere in your mouth, it was bitter and salty. you pull away and she looks at you, smirking and expecting you to swallow, which you don’t wanna give her the satisfaction of seeing. you wanted to see how far she would go, what she would do to you.
when she sees that you’re not doing what she asked, “come on, swallow it, you bitch.” she tells you, grabbing your jaw and smiling at you in a mocking way. you probably look like a huge whore to her right now, cum slightly spilling out of your mouth and everything. you glare at wonyoung and swallow all of it like she asked earlier, all of her semen, keeping eye contact. in response to that, she chuckles and grabs your cheek, patting it. “atta girl, you’re hotter when you do what you’re told.”
you roll your eyes as she chuckles and push her back on the bed, eyeing her still very hard dick. in a swift motion, you take off your jeans and panties, hovering over her. then, you sit down on it, slowly taking in all the length.
“you a virgin?” she asks you, holding onto your waist.
“no, why? you think i don���t know how to ride di-“
she grips on your waist and unexpectedly pushes you down onto her cock, making you accidentally let out a loud noise, a mix between a moan and a yelp. it was painful being penetrated so fast, especially by something so big but the sensation was also.. amazing. before you could have the chance to ask her to go slowly, though, she’s already pumping in and out, increasing her speed progressively. okay, now, it hurts.
“can you go slower for - mmh - f-fuck’s sake..”
“no? you take things too fucking slowly, i’m here to cum, not fall asleep.” she grunts, still lifting you up and down her cock, using you like she would a fleshlight. you notice that she gets a lot more annoying during sex, meaner, even. and you hate to admit it, but you’ve also noticed that you seem to enjoy it a lot.
“fuuuck babygirl, you’re so tight.” she mumbles as she presses her thumb onto your exposed clit and plays with it, earning a whimper from you. you feel your walls clench around her as you roughly bounce on her, taking in all of her length.
she’s fucking you so roughly, magically hitting all of the right spots, as if she knows exactly where they are. you couldn’t help but let out the lewdest most shameless noises known to man, it feels too good not to. she definitely didn’t use her mouth for much, but god did she know how to use her cock.
after a while of you bouncing up and down on her, you already feel like you could cum, despite trying your hardest to keep it in, to enjoy it a little longer. a knot was starting to form in your lower stomach, fuck, you were so close, and the fact that she was fucking you so roughly nonstop was making it so hard to keep it contained.
“fuck y/n i’m about to cum again..” she whimpers out needily, once again tightly holding onto your waist. you can’t let her though, not yet. you grab her wrists and pin them above her head, preventing her from touching you. a confused but very aroused expression plastered on her face.
“you can wait a little longer, right?” you ask, but in a tone that basically makes it seem like an order. she glares at you, gaze full of lust yet worry. you could tell she liked the sense of being in control, and that she felt vulnerable in this state. she usually was doing the fucking, not whatever this is. and she was even more frustrated that she liked it.
she moaned, chest heaving up and down from the effort she’s putting in to not climaxing, especially inside of you. you ride her dick, changing the speed to your liking. sometimes moving painfully slow, making her sensitive tip throb at the sensation, other times riding it like there was no tomorrow, she felt it everywhere, your slick running up and down her entire shaft in a fast motion. “c-can i cum yet? you’re being so - fuck - annoying.” she messily asks you, the feeling of you bouncing on her making her stumble over her words.
“maybe i’d let you if you weren’t so goddamn impatient.” you say, moaning out the words.
you were making it so hard for her, she actually thought she would pass out. thankfully for her, though, you quickly get closer to finishing, the noises coming out of your mouth getting louder and higher. then, you feel yourself clench around her length.
seeing you like this, hearing you call out her name as you came all over her cock, it all just made her arousal grow even more. she really couldn’t hold it in anymore.
“y/n please get off i need to cum ineedtocu-“
“cum inside of me.” you interrupted, you were still coming down from your high and you needed her to fill you up. you were on the pill, but she didn’t need to know that yet. you wanted to see how far she would actually go. “w-what? are you fucking crazy what if i get you pre-“ you cut her off by lifting yourself up on her cock, then back down, earning a cute moan from her.
“fill me up, wony. do it.”
upon hearing those words, the nickname, her eyes widen and she bites her bottom lip, throwing her head back as she pants from all the different feelings she felt. she would’ve actually thought about it more if she wasn’t horny out of her mind at the moment.
a mind blanking orgasm hits her, and you can feel the familiar feeling of her warm thick juices filling up your cunt again as you both moan in unison. she rambles out fucks and oh my gods as she takes it all in. watching her become such a mess just because of you.. if you weren’t so tired, that would’ve definitely made you wanna fuck her again. poor baby has probably never even been edged by a girl before.
you watched her as she came down from her high, head still thrown back as she’s panting and heaving. then, she lifts it back up to look at you, smiling shyly. was this the same wonyoung you knew? because if yes, she got significantly cuter.
you laid down on her, resting your head in the crook of her neck. you didn’t even bother pulling her dick out of you, it felt comfortable, and honestly? you were way too lazy to.
“so, are you gonna be telling this to your friends?” you jokingly ask her.
“they’d never let me live it down if they knew you got me begging for you, girl.. so, no.” she confessed, making you giggle.
“also shawty, if you do get pregnant, just be aware that i will not be taking care of the baby.” she adds.
you hum, “you’ll still fuck me whenever you feel like it though, right?”
she chuckles in response, “i mean..
if you insist.”
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togrowoldinv · 10 months
Text
Best Closers In The City
Lawyer!Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader
You are an associate to some of the most successful attorneys in the city. You’re invited to a special dinner with the partners. What happens when one of them asks you to be her mentee?
Warnings: Smut! 18+ please! Kissing, cursing, very muscular Natasha, degrading, overstimulation (sorta), strap on sex, oral (N receiving)
Natasha Romanoff Masterlist 1, Natasha Romanoff Masterlist 2, Main Masterlist
When you got the job at Romanoff Danvers & Maximoff, you had no idea what to expect. Everyone said it would mean working over 40 hours a week without much praise, but you didn’t care.
You wanted to work for the best law firm in New York City.
You met Danvers, Carol, first. She is alluring, no doubt about that, but she is also brilliant. The woman has a reputation for cleaning up messes quickly and keeping the city safe.
You met Wanda Maximoff second. She oversees the associates, so you see a lot of her. She has the kindest smile you’ve ever seen. Despite being one tough litigator, she is genuinely kind and always asks you how you are doing. Not in a way to make small talk, but like she truly wants to know.
And that leaves Natasha Romanoff. You have seen her around the office, usually early in the morning or late at night, but you haven’t spoken to the woman. There is a sense around the firm that you don’t speak to Natasha unless you’ve made partner or she speaks to you first.
But you really want to talk to her. She is the managing partner, something you long to be one day. Plus, she is gorgeous. You would be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about her in a slightly less than appropriate capacity.
Sometimes she would leave the office with a man or woman waiting for her outside. It was never the same person twice. You wondered what it was like to be them.
When you get to work today, Wanda waltzes into the bullpen with a notepad in hand. She prefers not to use technology.
“Good morning! As you all know, tonight is the annual partner dinner. Carol, Natasha, and I have been observing you all for a while now, so we would like to formally offer the following list of you an invite to the dinner,” Wanda announces.
She is met with chatters of excitement from all of you young, aspiring attorneys. None of you knew when this day was going to come, but here it is. Your chance for a seat at the table.
“I know, I know, it’s very exciting,” Wanda says, a chuckle escaping her lips. “Now here are the associates that will be joining us. Peter Parker, Kate Bishop, and Y/n y/ln.”
You fight the urge to stand up and do a happy dance. Instead, you share a smile with your fellow invitees and accept congratulations from others.
“See you all at 8!” Wanda says. She leaves the bullpen.
“I wonder which one of them picked which of us,” Peter says once the woman is out of sight.
“What do you mean?” You ask.
“Each partner picks an associate. At least that’s what Mr. Stark told me,” he explains.
“Oh, I hope Natasha picked me,” Kate comments. You all laugh.
“Natasha doesn’t speak to any of us, and Carol doesn’t either for that matter. I bet Wanda picked all of us,” you reason.
“Just wait and see where we are placed to sit tonight,” Peter says. “I bet I’m right.”
You forget about the dinner mostly as you dive into your work for the day. But what Peter said does linger in your mind as you gather your bag before walking to the car that is taking you all to dinner.
You figured dinner would be at some restaurant, but the car arrives at a house. A huge one with glorious architecture. There are lions on either side of the entrance. A dark wooden door is up the stairs.
“Holy shit,” Kate speaks for the group as you walk to the door together.
Peter rings the doorbell and the door opens almost simultaneously. Carol is on the other side, a glass of wine in her hand.
“Hello! Come on in,” Carol greets the three of you.
“This is a very nice home you have here, ma’am,” you say.
“Oh, I wish I could take credit for this place. It’s Natasha’s,” Carol explains. “Follow me and we’ll go into the dining room.”
You follow the blonde. Your eyes wander around the house as you admire how perfectly put together the house is. There are very few personal decorations, but there are so many objects that you can imagine have meaning to Natasha.
When you enter the dining room, there are place cards at the table. One for each of you. You sit in your assigned seats and Carol scurries off to the other room to gather her fellow partners.
They file in one by one. Carol sits across from Kate, offering her a smile. Wanda sits across from Peter. And that leaves the seat across from you open. If Peter was right, then that means Natasha chose you.
She is last one to walk in. She sits in the chair across from you and looks up at you through her eyelashes. The woman is even more beautiful up close. Her red hair cascades over her suit lapels and her green eyes shine in the dining room lights. You wonder what that jacket is hiding.
You are admiring her when Wanda begins speaking, “Thank you all for joining us tonight for this very special dinner. And thank you to Natasha for graciously letting us have the dinner at her beautiful home.”
Natasha offers Wanda a nod and a soft smile. One of which Wanda happily returns.
“It’s truly a unique and sought after experience, so I do hope the three of you leave tonight with more knowledge about your chosen career. We picked you from the fine cloth of other associates,” Carol explains.
She looks to Natasha to continue the spiel. You all watch her intently and wait for her to begin.
“Yes, as Carol and Wanda said we invited you three here for a reason,” Natasha says. Her voice is velvety just as you hoped it would be. “It should also be noted that while we all are going to speak to each other tonight, there is also another element to the dinner.”
Subtle glances are shared between you, Kate, and Peter.
“We have decided to improve the tradition and give you each full access to us. You’re sitting from across from the partner that has chosen you to be their mentee, if you so choose to agree,” Natasha explains. She looks you directly in the eye as she says her next words. “And you will agree.”
There is a certain harshness to her tone that you don’t know if it turns you on or scares you deeply. You think it’s both.
Soon, the food is served and the group talks intently. Things about the firm come up, but you find that the women don’t only want to talk business. You see the way Natasha does not offer as much personal information as the others, but she throws in a couple of comments here and there.
After dessert, you are practically itching to ask when you get to learn more about the mentor and mentee relationships. Carol puts you out of your misery when she announces that that part of the night begins now.
“We’ll go to my study,” Natasha says to you. She stands up from the table and leads the way. You can’t help but notice the way her pants hug her backside.
When you enter the room, she closes the door behind you. You take a look around. The walls are lined with bookshelves except for one area where there is a stained-glass window. Pink roses are painted with a landscape of green around them.
Natasha notices you admiring it. “It’s one of a kind,” she says.
“It’s beautiful,” you comment.
“Thank you,” she says. She walks to her desk and gestures for you to sit in the chair on the other side.
You sit, but she remains standing as she takes the suit jacket off. You notice the way the buttons strain against her chest, and her arms are noticeably toned even through the mid length sleeves she is wearing.
“You might want to stop staring,” Natasha says, pulling you out of your trance.
“I’m sorry,” you rush out the apology.
“Mhm,” she hums. You can’t read her, so you don’t know if she was flattered or upset by your stares. Your nerves are at a high. “So, y/n, what are your career goals?”
“I want to- um- well- I want to make partner one day,” you say.
“That sounds reasonable,” Natasha remarks. She stands up from her desk and walks around to your side. Her hands grip the desk and she leans against it. Once again, your eyes rake over the tight-fitting shirt. “Why family law?”
“It seemed like the path where I could do the most good,” you explain.
“And that’s what you want to do? Good?”
“Yes ma’am,” you say. “Why did you-”
“I’m asking the questions, y/n,” she interrupts you, standing at her full height again.
“I’m sorry,” you say.
“You’re too quick to apologize,” Natasha scolds you lightly.
You don’t know how to reply. She walks to her drink cart in the corner and pours herself a shot of what you presume is vodka and she swallows it quickly. You watch her every moment before she turns back around. You avert your gaze.
“Y/n,” Natasha says. She invades your space, her hand gripping your chin to force you to look up at her. “Do you know why I chose you to mentor?”
You try to shake your head, but her grip is too firm.
“No, I don’t,” you speak softly.
Natasha grins wickedly as she keeps her hand on you. Only she moves it to the side of your face, her fingers arching over your neck and touching the base of your hairline.
“I chose you because I think you’re intelligent. And you’re capable and hard-working,” Natasha explains. You feel your cheeks burning from the compliments. “But you’re also naïve, and you’re a bit of a pushover.”
Oh. There it is. Your eyes burn as you fight back tears, cursing yourself for being unable to handle criticism.
“I don’t tell you this to upset you, y/n,” Natasha says, her voice softening just a hair. “I can help you be better. You have the instincts. It’s just that someone needs to toughen you up.”
“Okay,” you say. “How did you- nevermind,” you remember you aren’t the one asking the questions.
“How did I what?” Natasha inclines you to continue.
“How did you even know all of this? You don’t speak to us associates.”
“Oh, I may not speak but I’m always listening,” Natasha says. “And trust me, sweetheart, I see everything.”
You shiver at her words. Everything means that she might have seen you watch her leave all of those nights. You avert your gaze, and her hand grip strengthens again.
“Tell me, y/n, have you been watching me?” She knows the answer, so she doesn’t bother waiting for you to speak. “Since you have been, maybe you would like to see more of me?”
“I- um-” you can’t formulate words.
Natasha releases you from her grasp and steps back so you can see all of her. She starts slow, unbuttoning her shirt. Each button strains and your eyes follow her movements. Her hands are deft as they move against her shirt purposefully.
When she gets to the last button, she looks you directly in the eyes and pulls the shirt away from her body. That uncovers her chest and her arms. Your eyes don’t know what part of her to look at first.
“Don’t just sit there,” Natasha says sternly.
You stand up quickly and she takes your hand. She brings it to her abs. Your other hand follows. You brush your hands over her abs, an undoubtable eight-pack, and she smirks. You move further up to her abdomen to her rib cage area and run your hands over a couple of tattoos.
Natasha didn’t seem like the type to have these, but they make her impossibly hotter. Your hands skip over her bra-covered chest and move to her biceps. The woman flexes her arms, and you feel weak in your knees.
“Do you like what you see?” Natasha asks, her voice is deeper than usual.
“I do,” you say. “Can I?”
She knows what you mean, and she reaches behind her own back to unhook her bra. The garment falls to the floor. You take one breast in your hand as you move your mouth to the other. You look up at Natasha as if asking for permission. She nods and you place your lips around her nipple.
You suck thoughtfully and lick around the perky buds, switching between breasts. Natasha makes beautiful sounds as you do so. When you kiss down her abdomen, she lets out a gasp. You fully intend to worship her entire body.
“Take off my pants, baby,” Natasha instructs you.
Your fingers work to unbutton and unzip her suit pants. Kneeling in front of her, you pull the pants down her legs. For some reason, you expected her to be wearing panties, but she is wearing black boxers. Her thighs are muscular and your urge to be between them increases when you notice the bulge in her boxers.
“Fuck Natasha,” you mumble. She lets out a chuckle.
“Did my good, sweet associate just say fuck?” She teases.
You answer by pressing kisses against the skin of her thighs that are revealed. Nat gets impatient and pushes her own boxers down her legs. All that she’s left wearing is a strap.
Natasha takes it in her own hand and directs it towards your mouth. You comply quickly and suck the cock. She moves her hips faster with every passing second, loving how you take the thick length.
“That’s it, sweetheart,” she says. “God, I’ve wanted to have you kneeling for me since the first day I saw you in the office.”
You groan at her words and continue your ministrations. That is until Natasha needs more, and she pulls you up by your shirt collar.
“Take off your pants,” she tells you. “Now.”
Nat doesn’t wait for them to reach the floor before she has you bent over her desk as she enters you from behind. It’s easy from how wet you are from the entire evening.
“You take my cock so well, baby,” she says, her mouth right next to your ear. “I know you’ve imagined this too.”
“I have,” you admit, your voice broken from the pleasure she is bringing you. She moves in and out of you, hitting you right where you need her every time. Her arms hold you tightly against her.
When Natasha places a few kisses on your neck, you whine, and her grip tightens.
“I’m gonna- fuck Nat- I’m gonna come,” you say.
“Come for me, sweetheart,” Natasha says. “Tell me how good it feels.”
You groan out a string of incoherent words as you come for Natasha. She feels the slick against her strap as she continues to take you from behind.
“Too much, Nat,” you mumble when she still hasn’t stopped her movements.
“Come on, baby, you can take one more,” Natasha says firmly. “You want to be good for me, don’t you?”
“Yes- fuck- yes ma’am,” you reply.
It doesn’t take long for you to come again. This time she relents and pulls out of you. Your head is fuzzy from the overstimulation, but you’ve never felt so good.
Natasha releases you from her grasp and you turn around to face her. She has an almost goofy grin on her face, and you know she is pleased with her work. But you remember she hasn’t come yet.
“May I take care of you?” You ask her, reaching for the strap again.
“I think you’ve earned it. Go ahead,” she says. Nat takes her own initiative to take the strap off of her hips.
You once again kneel in front your mentor, but this time you waste no time burying your face between her legs. You collect her wetness with your tongue and make quick work of finding her clit.
“Fucking good,” Natasha mumbles as you lick and suck. She holds onto your shoulders as you continue. It feels good to make a woman so strong feel weak in her knees.
You hum against her, and she is almost over the edge. All it takes is for you to add one finger to work in tandem with your mouth and she is coming hard against you.
After cleaning her up, you stand up to face her again.
“Come here,” she says, pulling you by your hips into her hold.
She kisses your lips slowly at first. Her tongue brushes against yours. But she picks up the pace and you’re left breathless from your first kiss with the woman.
“So, what did you think?” Natasha asks.
“I think I want to do that again,” you say, dumbstruck from the events.
“In due time, y/n. Right now we need to get dressed and say goodnight to everyone,” Natasha says.
She turns to look for her shirt and it’s then that you notice the tattoos on her back.
“Roses,” you say aloud. Your eyes glance back towards the window.
“Roses,” Natasha turns back to you and says. “You wanted to ask why I chose family law.” She puts the shirt back over her arms and back.
“I did.”
“My sister,” Natasha says. “We were separated as kids. I am still trying to find her. In the meantime, I can help other people.”
“And was she named Rose?” you ask, hoping you aren’t pushing.
“Her name is Yelena. But she loved roses, so I guess it’s my way of feeling connected to her.” You haven’t seen her speak this softly about anyone.
“That’s really beautiful, Natasha,” you say.
“Yeah,” she says. “Do you maybe want to stay for a little while after everyone leaves?”
“I’d love to,” you say, a smile on your face.
“Good because I want to snuggle,” she admits. You share a chuckle and finish getting dressed together.
You leave her study and everyone goes about their way except for you and Natasha. You stay at her house and learn everything about her. Talking all night, sharing kisses, and a couple more rounds of intense sex, you have a perfect time with her.
This isn’t what you expected out of working for Natasha Romanoff, but you will take it.
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cursedhaglette · 2 months
Text
Colleagues
You're been nothing but helpful to Magistrate Ancunin, working to advance your career by supporting his cases. Your crush on him has lasted almost as long as your time spent working together.
And then he decides he wants to show you just how grateful he is for all your thorough help.
Rating: E Word Count: 2.5k Content: 18+, oral sex, PIV sex, squirting, cum swallowing, pre-canon
[ao3 link]
A/N: I don't know what magistrates do and not sure if I really care, but if fantasy judge/lawyer combo doesn't work for you then sorry!
“Madam, I have Magistrate Ancunin here to see you,” the voice of the office assistant reaches your ears before the door opens and the heavy hinges creak in that way you hate. The older human woman who assists with your paperwork and appointments allows in the familiar, handsome face. You nod your thanks and Vilna closes the door promptly, as she always does. 
“Magistrate,” you say in greeting, and he smirks as he approaches.  
“You always say that like it’s not your title as well,” he argues, the same comment the two of you make every time you have this exchange. 
You’ve been smitten with him for an almost pathetic amount of time, but while you’re still unsure whether his flirtations were just for fun or genuine, you held off on making any real move. Being rejected by one of your fellow magistrates, one of your senior colleagues that you’re so often tasked with assisting, would be far more humiliating than you’re willing to risk. 
“Do you have those case notes ready?” He asks, and the deep caress of his voice scatters your mind as you fumble for the information you’d collected for him. You remember you’d filed it away just last night, wanting to be sure it wasn’t mixed in with the other handful of cases you were either overseeing or assisting on.
“Sorry, yeah - it’s over here. I was working on it until late last night, but I think it should be more than enough to present your case.”
He doesn’t respond, so you move around your desk to where you filed the documents the evening prior.
“You really ought to make me work harder for this,” he smirks, and you watch every movement of his clever mouth as you turn to meet his gaze. “So much done, all for me? None of the other junior magistrates are quite as helpful and thorough as you are, darling.”
“I’m far too generous, I’m wholly aware,” you turn, noticing how much closer he’s gotten. How his body is nearly against yours, your back meeting the edge of your filing cabinet as you adjust, watching as he takes another step closer.
“You ought to be careful,” he whispers, and you think you might be able to smell cigar smoke and brandy on his clothing, his breath a puff of warm air against your skin as he draws ever closer, “associating with the ‘hanging judge’ might earn you a reputation an innocent thing like you might not like.”
“Maybe I’m not so innocent. I can handle myself,” you murmur, and mean it. You weren’t scared of his reputation, not when you wanted to make your own. Assisting him, making a name for yourself as you grew your career, it was all part of a plan. Falling for him was the only piece you hadn’t accounted for. “And maybe I like working with you.”
“I’m glad, because I like it as well,” he grins, “so tell me you’ll let me show you my thanks.”
“Astarion…” you whisper again, and your eyes can only focus on his lips. The way his tongue flicks to wet them, so full and perfect. Gods, you wish he would just break this tension so you could finally feel his hands around your body.
“Let me show you how grateful I am,” he says again and leans against you, dipping his head to whisper a gentle kiss along your neck, then another below your ear. “Let me show you how much I like working with you, Tav.”
“Is this a good idea?” You hate the question, hate that it could end the delicious warmth seeping into your core as his lips move lightly against your skin. But you have to know, have to be sure…
“Probably not,” he grunts but pulls away for long enough to look you in the eyes as he says, “but if you want this, then I don’t give a damn how good or bad an idea it is. Do you want this?”
“Yes,” you moan, and then his mouth is on yours and it’s like your prayers are finally answered. His mouth is warm and perfect, his tongue dancing against the seam of your lips until you open, eagerly, to welcome him in. He pushes you against the cabinet, your back digging into a drawer pull, but you don’t care as his hands move to cup your ass and lift you slightly, enough to angle your core against his. 
You can feel his hardness and it draws a desperate, gasping moan from you that he swallows with his kiss. He holds you firm, his grip likely strong enough to bruise. Have you noticed how strong he was before? You knew he was fit, but Gods, the way he holds you shows off how easy this is for him. He’s experienced, and you are too…but not like this. Not with someone you’ve wanted for ages, dreamt of kissing or laying with as you sign off on each individual document you’ve prepared for him over the last year.
“I’ve wanted you,” he growls as he shifts and gently sucks on your sensitive earlobe, “since I first laid eyes on you. Since you first walked into this office.”
“Really?” you gasp, and Astarion’s hands move to the buttons of your blouse, his mouth kissing along your collarbones. He pulls away for a moment, eyes scanning yours and you watch in delight as his gaze flickers to your flushed cheeks and swollen lips. Then, he takes your hand, and moves it to the hardness pressed against you - guiding you to feel the full length of him, still taught and held within his fine, leather trousers but begging for release. 
“Do you feel this?” He asks, smiling as your blush deepens. You bite your lip and nod. “This is how desperately I’ve wanted you. How hard I’ve been trying to hold back from doing this every time I see you. But I can’t hold back any longer, not if you want me too.”
“I do,” you moan, and he’s on you again, his kisses somehow more desperate than before. But then he’s kneeling and -
“May I?” He looks up at you, both hands warming your thighs and you know what he wants, even if you’re shocked this is happening at all. You nod and his hands move to your waistband, tugging off your work trousers and undergarments in a single movement. 
You’re bare for him for a moment  before he nudges your legs apart and finally his fingers find your clit, gently pressing against your pleasure. Astarion looks up at you, eyes dark with lust, as you whimper at the touch - simultaneously feeling overwhelmed by the sudden caress and desperately needing more from him. 
“Put your foot on my shoulder,” he instructs, and you do without thought. The heat at your core, the way your want feels like a thrumming ache that grows with each second that goes by drives away any second guessing or nervousness you might feel. All you can think of is the way his hands caress your hips, your thighs, as he looks at you laid bare. “Gods, look at you. Soaked for me and so fucking beautiful.”
“Please,” you gasp, and he smirks but finally obliges you. His hands move to grip your ass and stars burst behind your eyes when he finally drags the flat of his tongue from your hole to clit. His mouth latches around her, sucking and licking in alteration as soaked, sloppy sounds begin to fill her small office. You’re being feasted on, and each groan with pleasure vibrates through you and adds to the building release he’s bringing you toward.
Astarion moves one hand from your ass and shifts his mouth only slightly, his tongue never leaving your swollen bud as he slides two fingers into your heat, immediately finding the soft spot inside you that has everything going white behind your eyes. 
“A-Astari-uhhhnnn,” your knees buckle as you cry his name, reaching for his hair and holding his mouth to you as the dam of your arousal bursts.
Pleasure floods you, and you soak him in the process, grinding against his face and coming around his fingers as your body thrashes in release. His ministrations continue, licking and fingering through the final clenches of your orgasm before he finally pulls away, his face slick with your arousal and release. 
“You taste fucking delicious,” he growls and stands, pulling you into another deep kiss so you can taste yourself on his lips. You moan into his mouth again and finally feel him tug free his cock, stiff and dripping with his own excitement. 
“Can I taste you?” 
“Not now, darling,” he growls and pulls you off the cabinet, his hands rough. “I’ve got to be inside you now, or I may go mad.”
He guides you to your desk, papers and files scattering in the wake of your desperate movements, banging your way around the office without letting his lips leave yours, his hands lingering at your sides, your hips, your breasts. 
Your ass meets the edge of the desk at the same moment his fingers find a nipple, pinching and twisting viciously, enough to have him groaning at the sound of your gasping cry. He kisses his way down your body again, his lips meeting your breasts and sucking gently before he moves lower, kissing down the planes of your stomach. 
Propping yourself on your elbows, you watch as he finally pulls away and lines his cock up with your slit. He rubs his head against your sensitive clit, wetting himself on your still soaking cunt and each rubbing slide feels better than the last. He’s so hard, the head of his beautiful, thick cock so soft, and it’s all for you. After so long, after so many late nights spent wishing you could have him all to yourself.
Your head hangs back as he begins to slide into you, the feeling overwhelming as your body stretches to accommodate him. He takes his time, his own eyes closing slowly as he adjusts in his own way, the feeling of your heat and slick enough to have him biting his lip in concentration. 
“Astarion,” you whine and your back arches as he moves forward another inch, “I can take it, I want it all, please - I need more, please, pleee-aahh -”
He fills you to the hilt, giving all of himself to you in one movement and you can only muster a deep, primal groan as he begins to set a steady rhythm, rolling his hips against yours. Each movement is practiced and perfect, managing to hit every spot inside you that begs for pressure.
“So ti-ight, mmmm,” he groans, picking up speed. He reaches between your legs, his thumb rubbing circles in time with each thrust. “Can you come for me again? Around me?”
You clench around him, feeling the tug behind your navel and the added moisture between your legs and then you’re coming, coming around him like your body knew to obey his ask with words alone. Your second undoing under his hands is somehow stronger than the first, your body convulsing like a woman possessed as you shatter again and again. 
“Good girl,” he grunts and sputters, “such a good…mmmmph…good girl, coming for me.”
You milk him with every slowing contraction of your body, tugging him deeper into you, and he stammers your name like the chants of monks in a chapel. You listen as he repeats it, over and over, as his breath hitches and his movements grow erratic, desperate and his own pleasure begins to build toward climax. 
He’s close, so close and you don’t have a tonic so you lean up and kiss him, his body slowing as his focus shifts to your mouth. This time his moan fills the space shared between you and the sound would buckle your knees were you standing. 
When you tug away, both of your breaths still ragged with pleasure, you whisper what you want, no - what you need. “Come in my mouth. Let me taste you that way.”
“Are you sure?” He grunts the question, leaning in for another languid kiss as he continues each deep, slow movement within you. You nod through the kiss, then move off the desk, to your knees. 
He’s coated in your slick, and flush with pleasure, each vein in his gorgeous length thrumming with need you can’t wait to slake. You roll him in with your hand, luxuriating in this hiss it earns you. 
You swirl your tongue around his head before sucking it into your mouth, groaning as you realize that you’re about to know how you taste in combination with him. 
“Gods,” he pants, “don’t stop, y-you feel…unbelievable.”
You smile and take him deeper, adjusting to his length for a few moments and then letting him fuck into your throat at the pace he needs to finally reach his peak. He bucks quickly, his eyes close as yours water, his length hitting the back of your throat.
You swallow as he quivers through his end, and then bob up and down once more before pulling away from him, your mouth popping as you release his head from your mouth. You lick him clean, any release you hadn’t caught already you wipe away with a warm tongue, feeling his eyes on you as you do. 
“Fucking hells,” he whispers, a hand reaching to stroke your cheek as you finally sit up, “that was…”
“Okay?”
“You delicious fool, that was the best head I can ever remember receiving,” and he folds himself over to reach where you still kneel before him, kissing you deeply and slipping his tongue into your mouth - tasting himself on your tongue. It’s salty and perfect, the taste a lingering reminder of the ecstasy you shared.
Astarion moves to dress quickly, as though suddenly reminded that it was the middle of the workday and you were both in an office, and you follow his lead. 
He straightens his coat, rubbing his palms down his shirt to even out the wrinkles left over from their earlier collision. He looks almost nervous, watching as you finish lacing up your shoes, then looking at the utter chaos left behind on the desk. 
“This won’t make things…uncomfortable between us? Will it?” You ask the question carefully, aware that it very well could change everything. Could ruin all that hard work. But Gods, it sure as hell felt worth it in the moment. 
“Oh lovely girl,” he smiled, finally meeting your eye again with that perfect smile, “if anything, this just got a lot better. In fact, I could imagine you and I will be very, very good colleagues.”
“Well then,” you stand and walk toward him, taking his coat in both hands and tugging the handsome elf flush against you once more, “I suppose the cases we work on together are going to be a lot more fun from here on out.”
“Oh my dear,” he kisses you quickly, a gorgeous, devious grin lighting his face as he pulls away, “I couldn’t agree more.”
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astroaid · 3 months
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Where You May Meet Your Spouse
This is the method I have seen most reliable in the chart’s of people I know in real life. The method is to locate where your 5th house ruler is in the natal.
The logic behind this method is that 5th house is associated with romance&dating. Locating its ruler in the natal can indicate where initial sparks appear. This can show us the place of meeting or themes of first dates.
7th house is mainly known as the relationship house but these are your long term connections with friends, lovers & business partners+clients.
However, I do see the house placement of natal venus (for wife) & jupiter (for husband) being accurate in vedic. All the different methods can get confusing so take this as entertainment. Don’t shut down potential partners because they don’t fit what the tarot or astro posts told you. Don’t stress over any of this at all. No one can be 100% sure of anything.
Also, I have made this post before on my now deleted blog. Just in case any of this sounds familiar. But I did not create this method. It has existed long before me.
5th H Ruler in 1st H:
ex1. My irl friend has an aries 5th house. Her natal mars is in her first house conjunct venus (her 11th house ruler).
She met her boyfriend through instagram.
11th H is associated with network and 1st H is associated with our self & body. Instagram is a prefect manifestation of these two houses coming together.
ex2. My other friend has 5th H sag. Her natal jupiter is in 1st H too. 1st H is associated with our body and appearance, she met her boyfriend at a hair salon.
5th H Ruler in 2nd H:
Unfortunately, I don’t have an irl example for this. However, possible examples are somewhere related to your resources. So maybe you’re at work, maybe you’re running an errand like grocery shopping.
Signs, planets in either 5th or 2nd may provide further insight.
5th H Ruler in 3rd H:
Again I don’t have irl examples for this. However, possible examples are meeting at community events, through friends/siblings/cousins. Places where you are mentally engaged with what’s going on as 3rd is our social interests. Ex: Library, transportation, mutuals on a social app.
5th H Ruler in 4th H
Generic manifestation of this placement would be meeting through the family or in the hometown.
My irl has an aqua 5th house. Her natal saturn (the traditional ruler of aqua) is in her 4th H. She met her boyfriend at a small party and went home with him that same night. Aqua is non conventional and associated with groups. Ofc this is very specific, I know not everyone with this placement is down for a hook up. This goes to show signs, planets in either houses + aspects are all very important.
5th H ruler in 5th H:
My friend has a pisces 5th house. Her natal jupiter (the traditional ruler of pisces) is in the 5th house. She has met many boyfriends through acting. 5th is associated with acting/entertainment and recreational activities/hobbies.
Other possible manifestations of this placement are meeting where children are involved. Or where self expression is important.
5th H Ruler in 6th H:
My mom’s friend has a taurus 5th house. Her natal venus is in gemini 6th house. She met her boyfriend at a company/work party. 6th house as association with daily routine/health, coworkers, pets, acts of service and obligated duties. She did say she felt like she had to be there due to her job and did not enjoy herself until she started chatting with him.
Other possible manifestations of this placement could be meeting at the gym, on a hike, doing something for your pet.
5th H Ruler in 7th H:
This doesn’t mean you’ll meet your partner while one of you is in a relationship. Possible manifestations of this placement are meeting through friends or business. Friend or work partners to lovers. Meeting while working in a group setting - group project.
5th H Ruler in 8th H:
My coworker has an aries 5th house. Her natal mars is in her 8th house conjunct her 10th house ruler. She is dating another coworker. And told me her ex was a coworker from a previous job!
This is ofc very specific so other possible manifestations of 5th ruler in 8th are…
8th is the death/rebirth house. So possibly when you meet one or the other is ending something/starting something new.
The place of meeting may be a secret due to being a somewhere taboo. or something a bit controversial like money, sex, literal death, slightly sus power dynamic is involved.
5th H Ruler in 9th H:
My aunt has a pisces 5th house. Her jupiter is in her 9th H. She met her spouse at vet school. 9th is associated with higher education.
Other possible examples of this placement could be… meeting where religion, higher beliefs are important. meeting where travel or foreign culture is the focus.
5th H Ruler in 10th H
Most obvious manifestation of this placement would be meeting in the workplace. Place of meeting could be where reputation/status or image is a focus. 10th house is a masculine house. You could meet where the masculine has authority over the feminine. Not in a weird way, like example: you’re both customers, they see you confused in the lamp aisle and they’re an expert in lamps that can come over to help.
5th H Ruler in 11th H
My mom’s friend’s boyfriend has a taurus 5th house. Natal venus in 11th conjunct MC. He is the one who met her at a work party. 11th is networking and mc is career, put them together and work party is the most literal example possible.
Other possible examples for 5th ruler in 11th could be.. meeting through friends or social media or a place where humanitarism/social awareness is important.
5th H Ruler in 12th H
12th is associated with what’s hidden, subconscious, endings, isolation and that can make it a tricky house. Luckily, I have a irl example. Uncle has a Capricorn 5th house. His natal saturn is in his 12th house. His wife was his long time, long distance friend. In a way, the romance was “hidden” for a long time. Saturn is an energy that brings delays too so the fact they were friends for years before seeing each other in a romantic light is very saturn. Their marriage is the best and longest lasting relationship of I know.
Other manifestations for 5th ruler in 12th could be…
meeting abroad, somewhere one is a bit isolated. for example, meeting while on a stroll alone. meeting later in life. meeting when healing is taking place - this sounds deep but could simply be meeting when having steeped out for a smoke break.
TYSM for reading. Would appreciate if you could share your experiences or if you can come up with better examples for the placements I didn’t have real life examples for. <3
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atrwriting · 4 months
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trust me (part 2) — billy the kid (2022) x barowner!reader
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okay part two hehe
as always, warnings: smut!, fem!sub!reader, dom!billy, p in v sex, oral m receiving, overstimulation (I should be stopped), choking, dirty talk, breeding kink (hehe)
anyway… trust me, part two:
billy had kept his promise.
he always kept his station right at your bar, in the middle.
you figured it would stop a few days after the two of you were married — but billy held his post.
with billy there and making his silent presence known as your defensive line, most trouble-making men would eye billy, order their drink, grunt, and then pay. to hell with a fake wedding ring, even your real one — when billy the kid sat at your bar, glaring at walking problems from the brim of his hat, no one dared cause a scene.
the townspeople may have stopped their shenanigans… but that didn’t mean that all of your problems disappeared.
in fact, new ones seemed to pop up.
as his new wife, you wouldn’t say they followed billy — but they sure as hell didn’t follow you.
groups of men wearing worn clothes with their guns on display would venture in and immediately start glaring at billy. you found that odd — because what man walks into a bar, and doesn’t immediately order at the bar?
“don’t pay them any mind, sweetheart,” billy would say to you, trying to quell your worries.
you narrowed your eyes at him, wiping down a glass. “if you didn’t want to marry a guard dog, maybe the queen’s daughter is still single.”
his lips would purse in a way that suggested he was fighting a laugh. “i’ll protect you, darlin’. you doubt that?”
“and i’ll protect you,” you bit. “you think i wouldn’t? like i said, you could probably charm —“
“as if any of them could scare me like you do,” he spoke lowly, the want to smile now winning. admiration could be seen in his piercing blue eyes, which also tugged on the corners of his lips.
“as if any of them would know that that’s you trying to be sweet,” you scoffed, half-jokingly. “and — as if anyone would be flattered like i am.”
billy sat back in his chair as he turned his head towards the side. he averted his eyes as he tried to hide his large grin that threatened to take over his face. when a rosy hue had founds it way onto his cheeks — you knew you had done it. you actually made billy the kid blush.
one day you would tease him for it — but not today. with the paranoia that always lingered in the back of your bar — you chose to award yourself and billy with this small moment of intimacy: knowing you were the only person that could break through his tough exterior.
but that tough exterior immediately rose once those men approached the bar.
there were about four or five of them, outnumbering both you and billy. billy always had a gun on his belt, and you had one underneath the counter and strapped to your leg, and a knife on your ankle — but even with those, you were out numbered and out gunned.
when they approached, you put on your brightest smile. “hello, gentlemen — anything i can interest you in?”
“gentlemen?” one, in the back, chortled.
the one in front smirked, swishing the joke in his mouth a little bit. he seemed to contemplate his response for a moment, and you fought the urge to narrow your eyes at them. you could feel the heat of billy’s gaze on the side of the man’s face. finally, the man spoke, “what my… associate means to say, miss... is that we’ve never been called ‘gentlemen’ by such a fine lady.”
you smiled politely. dismissing his words, you asked, “and what can i get for you?”
the man shoved his thumbs into the extra space in his belt, puffing out his chest. his cheeks were rosy — probably from the sun. you weren't sure what he did for work, and you figured it was best not to find out. a man who spent most of their days outside either worked the land or stole from someone else’s. you didn’t want to judge, and didn’t — but they didn’t look as harmless as billy or his gang.
“i was actually wonderin’, beautiful, how you managed to tie ‘ol billy the kid down,” he grunted. “in my day, the kid’s not loyal to nothin’.”
“insulting my husband will not get you drinks on the house, sir,” you stated.
“oh — you think we can’t pay?” he scoffed, his eyes widening. “do my ears deceive me, boys?”
“what’s a lady supposed to believe when you throw a cheap shot in front of her?” you asked before his associates could respond. “you’d be smart to mind the character you give off to the woman who controls the whisky pour, sir.”
his eyes narrowed, but his smirk didn’t waver. “i guess i should mind because my boys and i decided we would make this a regular spot of ours. whisky. five glasses.”
you pulled five glasses and grabbed the bottle from under the counter. lining them up, you began to pour. your gaze never left the man’s as you poured a single shot in each.
like billy said once — they had to respect you, before they respected him.
you pushed the glasses towards the man, and he laid a few bills down on the counter. each man took their glass and began to walk away. before the man you were staring down walked away, he turned to billy, and spoke, “we’ll be seein’ you around, old friend.”
billy didn’t respond. he just glared at him until he sat down.
their departure didn’t not quell any anxiety. having billy there was a blessing when there was one man making a fuss — but five? five who had a problem with billy?
you immediately dipped down under the counter so they couldn’t see you speak to billy.
loud enough, so only he could hear, you asked, “you know him?”
“know 'em enough.”
your teeth sank into your lip. “you want me to fetch jesse? should i get one of the boys in the back?”
“no, darlin’,” he spoke. “i told you — don’t worry about a thing.”
“i don’t appreciate being kept in the dark, billy,” you spoke. “i’m not asking to know everything — but at least let jesse know if you think it’s the right thing to do. you sitting there and not doing anything doesn’t make me believe it’s not a problem — it makes me think you’re only here to make me safe, when it sounds like this is going to get bigger than me.”
“i told you it would be fine,” his answer was quick and flat, dismissive.
“alright,” you sighed. “i trust you.”
you stood up then, averting your attention to a rag and glass in your hands that hopefully gave off the impression that you weren’t trying to secretly talk to billy. you stepped away from billy to stock bottles, attempting to clear your head. you didn’t necessarily blame billy — but you didn’t know how to feel. you didn’t have a problem with who he was or what he did — but you did have a problem with him not being able to handle similar situations as a team. a unit. sure — men would never be as scared of you initially as they are with billy, but you weren’t useless or defenseless.
you knew billy didn’t think of you like that, no. you were more so worried that he didn’t want to share the burden with you.
he should never feel shame. never. not ever.
you walked back over to him then, wiping down the counter. you didn’t raise your eyes, but lowly, you spoke, “i hope you know this, but in case you don’t — i’m proud to be your wife, billy.”
he was mid sip when you said that, which stalled a response from him, so you took another chance. maybe you should have, maybe you shouldn’t have…
but you did anyway.
“and i feel lucky to be with a man who would protect me,” you stated. “that i feel protected by.”
billy didn’t answer — but you weren’t as strong as you were by prying. billy could read you like a book and you hoped that the message was loud and clear: support. he had your support. you didn’t look up at him, didn’t mention it again, and didn’t try to get his attention…
he’d let you know if you needed to know something.
you had to trust him with that.
it would be a little while before the men at the table left. it was approaching close — and you were scared that they would never leave. you tried to keep your gaze off of them, and thankfully you never met their eyes if they had been looking over when you were. unfortunately, it appeared that they had been looking over — because billy was growing tenser by the moment.
“i could kick them out,” you whispered, keeping your head down.
“you’d do that to polite, paying customers, darlin’?” he asked sarcastically, shaking his drink around.
you fought back a smile. “i’m going to let them know about last call. hopefully they take the hint.”
you grabbed a bottle of liquor and ventured over to the men at the table. you kept your gaze trained absentmindedly ahead of you, but not on any of them in particular. when you approached, you had found most of their eyes already on you.
“just coming over to let you gentlemen know that we will be closing soon,” you stated. “can i top anyone off before that?”
“you can top me, sweetheart,” one of them chortled.
“mason, enough,” the man from before barked. “why, yes… that would be very kind of you. we’ll be on our way afterwards.”
you brushed off mason’s comment and began filling their glasses. they each immediately slammed it back, pulled out a few bills, and handed them to you. for whatever reason — they complied. politeness in their demeanors, they stood up and even pushed their chairs in before they left.
the main one, from before — you hadn’t caught his name, threw over his shoulder as he left, “be seein’ you soon, kid.”
from the way billy glared at the door… you knew he took that personal.
a little while later, you were both changing for bed. billy was moving with a sort of frustration in each of his movements. he was quiet, and quietly fuming. there was a deep set in his brow — alerting you that so many thoughts were behind those pretty eyes of his.
“do you want me to trim your hair?” you softly asked. “looks handsome — but looks long enough to get into your eyes soon.”
he didn’t look at you as his teeth sank into his lip. “yes, um… that’d be nice.”
you grabbed shears before gesturing him to sit down.
“i think those men were so rude because they were jealous of your hair,” you mused. “don’t think they’ve seen their own in the mirror for years.”
a corner of his lips raised slightly, but lowered almost immediately. you began to trim around his head, keeping most the length full but not long enough to touch his neck. even if it was impractical for what he needed — you loved the little curls by his hairline.
“they were jealous that i have such a beautiful wife,” he spoke.
“you are something else, mr. bonney…” you trailed off, brushing the stray hairs off of billy and turning to put the shears away.
that was when you felt the slightest touch on your palm, and then you felt fingers weave through yours. you turned to find billy’s blue eyes holding yours. you admired that about billy — even in stressful situations, he was not shy.
you smiled at him, and brought his hand up to your lips. you kissed the back of it, hoping he knew how much love you had for him. after, you climbed into his lap — sitting face to face with him.
“they’re a rival gang,” he spoke, then swallowed thickly. “while we found mostly honest work — they didn’t. we’ve caught them stealing from our employer a few times. nothing we can’t handle, but they’re starting to take it personal.”
you were stunned he even told you. he didn’t keep secrets — but since you two had only been wed for a short time, this was the first real threat that had come at you both. you watched as his jaw tightened a few times, and you were unsure of what it meant.
“is this…” you began. “is this the first time they’ve approached any of you in public?”
he nodded. “i’ll make sure they stay away.”
you raised an eyebrow. “...because of me.”
he didn’t answer. “if this is business, you take care of it like regular ‘ol’ business. you let me get in the way — might not end as well as you think it might.”
his eyes were accusatory. “you think i can’t do both? that i can’t protect you?”
“didn’t say that,” you said softly. “i’m just saying… your gang is made up of a few men, and i’m just one person. i’m worried that if you worry too much about me —“
he caught you by both sides of the chin with that. his touch wasn’t hard or forceful, but sudden enough it caught your attention.
“don’t you dare ever even think that you are less important than them,” he grunted. “you’re what i’ve got in this world. you, darlin’. don’t you forget that.”
“i know,” you sighed. “you’re everything i’ve got in this world. i didn’t need a man, you saw… but i wanted you.”
his lips parted at that, and his eyes began to search yours. you had never seen anything like it; billy appearing so pure and vulnerable, almost innocent. like he was laying himself bare before you and he didn’t even realize he was.
“i’m not saying you can’t protect me,” you whispered. “i’m just asking… please, let me do what i can do to protect you, too.”
he didn’t respond. his hand found the back of your neck, and you both leaned your foreheads together. the bridge of your noses touched — which felt odd, but you found your heart swelling at the feeling. billy’s thumb was rubbing against the back of your neck, finding its way to tangle within the hairs.
“i never wanted you brought into something like this,” he admitted. “it’s my —“
“william bonney, don’t ever say something so untrue to me,” you whisper-hissed. “it’s not your fault — and you didn’t bring me into anything. there’s no fault there. however, i will fault you if you keep me at arm’s length on this. please… trust me.”
the hand on the back of your neck founds it way to your cheek where he began to stroke the skin with his thumb once more. you leaned into his touch, grateful for its warmth and comfort. you open your eyes slightly to find billy already gazing at the beauty in his lap. his baby blue eyes were a stunner to anyone and everyone, and somehow they always got the best of you.
“i’m just too selfish of a man to not give my pretty girl everything she wants,” he spoke in a raspy voice. “nothin’ could compare to how sweet those lips look when she smiles for me.”
the grin spread wide before you could help it, and you cast your eyes down to avoid the blush behind so obvious. billy bent his head down, trying to catch your gaze once more before you became too shy.
“oh, no, sweetheart — can’t take from me what i earned,” he coaxed. his thumb found the plumpest part of your bottom lip, and slightly pulled it down into a pout. “prettiest lips i’ve ever seen in the west.”
your lips encircled around the tip of his thumb and lightly sucked in the tip. your hair fell down around your shoulders and curled around your forward as the temperature in the room began to increase. you watched as billy’s eyes flicked back and forth between your beautiful eyes, and how your lips sucked him in.
“goin’ show me what those pretty lips can do f’me?” he asked, lips parted.
you nodded then, sliding off his lap and on the floor. the pair of you tugged on his bottoms and let them pool around his ankles. upright on your knees, billy gathered all of your hair on the crown of your and looked down at you proudly.
“such a good girl f’me,” he rasped, barely above a whisper. “let me see those pretty lips work.”
with a blush on your cheeks, you leaned forward towards his hips. your hand wrapped around the base of his thick cock as your soft lips tucked the tip of his cock into your mouth. billy could’ve screamed at how good it felt in there — warm, wet, and wild. filled his veins with whisky and sunshine and tobacco all at the same time and he didn’t know what to do with himself. bobbing your head slowly, taking more and more of him in, you watched the stress leave his body. billy’s eyes drifted closed as his lips remained parted. the tension in his shoulders had disappeared, leaving only a man with his head thrown back against the back of the chair.
“that’s it,” he spoke. “that’s my girl.”
words like that… oh, words like that… they could turn even a saint like you into a slut. mixed with the sultriness in his voice — the whining, the wanting, the needing — you didn’t know if you wanted him to cum or not. if he came, he’d feel better, sure — but to deny yourself this picture? the scene of your man, your lethal man, succumbing to even the smallest of touches? praising you? guiding you? there was nothing better, nor purer in the world to you than to be before him, on your knees, as his wife. the sight alone was enough to make you take him deeper.
“that’s right, baby — little bit more. show me what you can do,” he grunted. “makin’ me so proud. ah, fuck…”
his reactions were like treats — and who were you to deny yourself of something your husband was so willingly giving? he was melting in your hands before you, and there was nothing more you wanted than to make him feel good. spit ran down your puffy lips, your cheeks, and along your jaw. the feeling of the trail sent all of your senses on fire until the only thing you saw, touched, smelled, felt was billy. one of his heavy hands came to rest on the back of your head, guiding your bobbing motions.
“got me weak, darlin’.” his breathing was heavy, almost spent. “want you on the bed. need to fuck my good girl sweet and proper.”
you reluctantly retreated from him and stood up, huffing. he immediately caught wind of your disheartened expression as his brow furrowed.
“what’s the matter?”
you let your nightgown fall to the floor as you stood in front of billy, bare for only him to see. billy was shameless as his eyes raked up and down all of your delicious, beautiful curves that were only illuminated by candlelight. you weren't backing down, however, no — you stepped forward, leaving very little space between you. you could feel the tips of your perky nipples grazing against his cool skin and shock went up and down your body. with big, unrelenting eyes — you glared up at him.
“finally get my husband to relax and i get stopped when i’m being nice.” you were smiling, being coy — but there was an edge of truth to your voice.
he smiled knowingly, not missing a beat at your discontent. “i’ll show you nice, darlin’.”
he pushed you back against the bed and immediately crawled between your thighs. it was so hard to stay mad at billy when the warmth from his own body would spread up and down yours, bonding the both of you. he pushed your thighs back against your torso, hooking the backs of your knees in his elbows.
“think i’d waste a drop when those men were starin’ at my wife, today? my girl?” his long, thick fingers began playing with your folds. your breath hitched at the feeling, an immediate gush of slick collecting on the tips of his fingers. he swirled around your clit, pulling you into him and his attention. “almost fuckin' killed them, every last one. i’ll get you so round and full — no man will dare flirt with my girl ever again.”
your breaths were light and needy as his words drifted through the air, your eyes fluttering closed. talk of kids surprised you, but not the sentiment. being so free and wild to talk of such things drew a certain excitement out of you that you didn't know existed. your senses were on fire, and now they were focused on having his cock pump you full of him. his lips were by your ear, nibbling on the lobe — and it sent you fucking mad. “yes, billy, please — want your baby so bad.”
“that's right, sweetheart,” he groaned. “need my cock inside you now —“
billy immediately retreated his hands to grab his cock and stuff it inside of you. the preparation was only slight — making there be more friction than ease. you gasped at the slight pain, but immediately fell into billy’s kisses as his lips drew shapes on your cheek and jaw.
“take me just like that, darlin’,” he grunted. “always so good to me. so proud —“
every inch was something billy held over your held. its teasing and taunting were persistent at your entrance, prying at your mind and your bottom lip. he pulled in and out, shoving another inch in with every thrust. you were at his mercy, tucked below him. he had every ounce of your trust and you had every ounce of his — and you couldn't think of anything better than the most dangerous man in the west turning you into a fucking mess.
“you’re so deep, billy,” you whined. “never — felt so good —“
“mind already going soft on me, huh, sweetheart?” he spoke, rocking his hips back and forth. you could feel your pussy stretching around him, wave after wave of arousal coating his cock and sucking him in deeper. it craved him. it throbbed for him. it pulled him in until there was nothing left of him to give. with his balls sitting heavy at the bottom of your entrance, you let out a cry. billy could only laugh darkly in your ear before saying, “pussy wants me so bad — just beggin’ me to breed it. can't be mean now, can i?"
you threw your head back against the bed, neck stretching with it. your teeth dug into your bottom lip as your eyes screwed shut. your entire lower body was on fire with each of billy’s thrusts. the depth and strength of his hips caused his cock to bury itself inside you, threatening to never leave. it was pure, it was passionate — but it wasn’t enough. there was an itch and it needed to be scratched. you should've maybe asked, maybe you should've been embarrassed to want something so dirty, so naughty, so unladylike — but you didn't care. you couldn't care — so you tried something.
you grabbed the wrist he wasn’t using for balance, and brought it up to the upper half of your body. his thrusts didn’t stop, but he watched you warily — waiting for a sign to stop.
but one never came. you let his fingers ghost around the circumference of your throat, letting them rest there. when they didn’t immediately squeeze, you tightened them around your own throat. billy could feel the build of a moan in your vocal chords, and it sent of a shock of arousal right to his cock. his eyes went wide with shock, then dark with lust.
“dirty — fuckin’ —“
he immediately got the hint.
he squeezed the sides of your throat just enough, and held you down. your whines were pathetic — incoherent, pitiful, and downright crazy. the head of his cock was hitting some of the most sensitive parts buried deep inside you that only he could find — and the room was spinning. pictures on the wall, furniture, lamps — things before you all going hazy and doubling in quantity as the pleasure drove you up a fucking wall. he claimed every bit of your body, having you bent in the most vulnerable position you had ever been in and you gave in. you gave in to every push, pull, thrust — anything he offered. he was yours, and you were his, and there was nothing stopping the bond between you two. you let out a dirty, needful whine at the feeling of his claim around your throat and melted underneath his control.
“that’s how it’s goin’ be, huh, girl?” he spat against your cheek. “thought my wife was the sweetest — but she didn’t tell me she likes it dirty. can you cum like this, sweetheart? fucked like a whore, hand around your throat, from a wanted man?”
you could only nod pathetically. you were clinging to him for dear life, pushing off your orgasm for as long as possible. “just like that, billy. please — don’t stop. i’m so, so close…”
“can see those stars behind your eyes already,” he quipped, nipping at your neck. “my poor girl wants to cum so bad…”
you were nodding though your tears, trying your best to choke out words, sentences, pleas, anything — but nothing could encapsulate how billy had control over every inch of your body. every nerve ending stood at attention for the man before you, ready to give him anything he wanted.
“please, billy,” you sobbed through gritted teeth. “i want a baby. i want your baby!”
“gonna breed this pussy, fuck — !” his free hand immediately came down in between where your hips connected and began drawing the roughest circles on your clit. the friction should’ve hurt, but with your mind being so consumed in passion and lust — it filled every want and need. your body rose for him, keened for him, fucking sang for him — and it set him off. the animalistic side of man showed itself through the dark pupils of billy's eyes as lust began to cloud his mind. “that’s it, doll — everything i give you. jus’ like a good girl — take it all.”
your hands immediately left his body and slammed down onto the bed, grasping at the sheets. your hips then spasmed as your chest then fought against billy as it tried to raise off the bed — but billy held you down. as you sobbed, cried, whined — billy held you and supported you through it all as he swallowed every emotion you gave him. you were almost screaming — from the pleasure, from the intensity, from the overstimulation, but billy didn’t stop. he kept working your pathetic, puffy clit with his rough hand around your throat, speaking dirty and sweet nothings into your ear before he filled your pussy to the fucking brim.
his moans in your ear were strained as the veins in his balls tightened. his hips shot forward once, twice — before he slammed into you once more and held his hips there. rope after rope after rope of hot, sticky, white cum painted and melted into your gummy walls. all of billy’s muscles were pulled tight and taut as he fucked his cum inside of your sopping wet pussy.
“i’m so mean to this pussy, but she just can’t stop cummin’, can she?” he spat, grip still on your throat. “love when your walls throb around me… holding me in…”
billy only then pulled his hand away from your raw clit. you were shivering from the stimulation, already falling victim to the haze of an orgasm and exhaustion. with his hand still around your throat, he pressed a fat, wet kiss to the side of your face.
“can’t wait to make you a mama," he whispered. "but i like the process."
---
lmk what u think :) love u guys xo
-L
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Text
how to write a character who suffers a PTSD from their past toxic relationship, how they can react / what they might say in certain situations
trigger warnings for abuse, domestic violence, ed
how they can react in certain situations
✘ avoid making eye contact, but will look up to meet caretaker’s eyes immediately if caretaker tells them to — for instance, caretaker is concerned about whumpee who keeps their gaze on the floor all the time; so, without thinking, caretaker says, “ look at me”. it doesn’t matter if they say it in a soft, comforting tone, they immediately regret it because whumpee quickly jerks their head up to meet caretaker’s eyes, fully thinking caretaker will hurt them if they don’t obey.
✘ whumpee is used to receiving orders. they don’t understand the concept of saying no and not being punished for it. so anything caretaker asks them to do (keyword; ask, whumpee can absolutely say no), whumpee will comply whether or not they want to (but they will do their best to make sure it looks like they want to).
✘ avoid staying in a crowded room or even an open space. whumpee will most likely seek comfort from some quiet corner where they’re away from anybody and nobody can bother them.
✘ an open space where there’s no one around can also bother whumpee, because it’s not just about being surrounded by a lot of people that’s triggering to whumpee. being alone in an open space can make whumpee feel extremely exposed, like an easy target.
✘ so mostly, whumpee will seek some quiet corner where they are alone and aren’t easily seen.
✘ they don’t like being the center of attention or being talked about. because this can also make them feel vulnerable, uncomfortable and exposed.
✘ physical touch that comes with no heads up, the ones that catch whumpee off guard, can result in a terrible reaction from whumpee, even if it’s an act of affection (a hug, a friendly pat on the shoulder, etc), because whumpee has already associated all kind of physical contact with pain and violence. so if someone touches them, they reflexively expect it to hurt.
✘ being jumpy in general. they may flinch away at any loud noise, any physical touch.
✘ lack of opinions in general. if they have to engage in a conversation where more than two people are talking about something, whumpee will remain quiet. not because they’re shy but because they 1.) think their opinions don’t matter 2.) are afraid they might say something wrong that’ll get them punished 3.) don’t want to risk speaking out of turn.
✘ whumpee expect themself to be punished if they make a mistake, doesn’t matter how small the mistake is — for instance, whumpee accident knocks over a glass of water, causing it to shatter, and immediately starts to panic, because they believe they will get punished for it.
✘ the rules whumper previously set for whumpee may still be effective for whumpee, even if they’re with caretaker now; whumpee still follows whimper’s rules because 1.) it’s an old habit 2.) they just want to stay safe.
✘ they can react poorly to food. whumpee may have no appetite at all, and can develop a wave of anxiety that can lead to nausea if they’re forced to eat. (this doesn’t mean caretaker is supposed to just let them starve though, only that it can be challenging and caretaker has to be very careful about how they approach this, how they handle the situation to help whumpee.)
✘ insomnia. whumpee having trouble sleeping at night, this can cause them to feel tired during daytime.
things they can say in certain situations
✘ “it’s okay.”
✘ “I’m used to it.”
✘ “I can be good. I’ll be good.”
✘ “I don’t deserve this.” (on being shown kindness)
✘ “it’s what I deserve.” (on being hurt)
✘ “why are you kind to me?”
✘ “I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.” (on making a mistake)
✘ “please, don’t be mad at me.”
✘ “I’ll do better next time.”
✘ “you’re not angry?”
✘ “it’s up to you”
✘ “either is fine with me.” (on being asked to pick something or to give an opinion)
✘ “it’s my fault.”
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