#...but it's feeling a lot less.... engaging than act 2 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

penascigarette · 6 months ago

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Smooth Operator Ch 1. A New Client

Joel Miller x f!phone sex operator

➴wc: 6.7k | summary: You unexpectedly find yourself drawn to a new client during a late-night call, who ignites a surprising wave of desire within you. As you engage in a steamy conversation, you realize this encounter is unlike any you've had before, leaving you eager for more and questioning the boundaries of your professional life.

➴warnings: mdni, phone sex, mxm phone sex, fxm phone sex, m&f masterbation lots of dirty talking, use of princess, shitty moodboard

➴an: hi! i hope you enjoy the first chapter of the first fic I have ever posted. if I have missed any warnings please let me know. feedback is super appreciated! now I will go run and hide lol. and a big tysm to @saradika-graphics for making such lovely dividers!

masterlist | series masterlist | pt. 2

You love sleeping, and just as passionately, you love your bed. Whenever you wake up in the morning, you spend at least ten minutes wrapped up in your duvet, savoring the warmth and comfort as you tease yourself with the idea of a nap.

This morning is no different. The sun shines outside, making your dark purple curtains look lighter than they actually are. If you open your eyes, you know you'll see dust particles floating through the air.

You take a deep breath through your nose and immediately wish you'd opened your windows to let in some fresh air. But you never do, even though you think about it every morning. It's too risky. Open windows are an open invitation to your worst fear—spiders.

Just the thought of their tiny, hairy bodies and long, wiggly legs sends a shiver down your spine. You pull the duvet tighter around your shoulders, practically imagining the creepy crawlies on your skin.

And of course, that's when your roommate, Elliot, decides it’s the perfect time to tickle your ear with one of his long, pink, kinky feathers—used for who-knows-what.

You scream, jump, and scramble off the bed like it’s suddenly caught fire. Your eyes—probably bloodshot with dark bags underneath—narrow at the grinning culprit, who is currently doubled over in a fit of laughter on the right side of your king-sized bed.

“What the fuck,” you huff, too tired to find any humor in this. You were so warm and cozy, and now that feeling is ruined for the next twenty-four hours. “You’re a real dick, you know that?”

“Y-your face!” he chokes out between giggles. He looks far too fresh-faced for someone who’s just rolled out of bed. Still in his pajamas, his messy hair—short on the sides with a wave on top—looks like it hasn’t seen a brush this morning.

“It's not funny!” you argue, your voice rising over the sound of his laughter. You’re this close to stomping your foot at him. “I thought you were a spider!” Standing there in nothing but pink pajama bottoms and a black strap top, your skin prickles with goosebumps. Yet again, you curse him for ruining your warm, safe burrito.

That only makes him laugh harder. It’s hard to believe this man-child is twenty-eight years old when he acts less than half his age most of the time.

At the sound of his snort, you feel your lips twitch against your will. No, you’re pissed at him—there’s no way he’s going to make you laugh. But very quickly, you’re losing the battle. Have you ever tried not laughing with someone who has an impossibly contagious laugh? It’s damn near impossible.

“Whatever!” you say, rolling your eyes as a reluctant smile finally breaks across your face. You cross your arms over your chest, trying to look stern, but Elliot knows he’s won this round

“It’s getting late,” he says, still chuckling. His green eyes are watery from laughing, making them sparkle as he grins at you. Rolling onto his left side, he props his head up with one hand—the one holding the feather—while his other hand runs through his sandy-brown hair, slicking it back. “And you slept through your alarms again, so I thought I’d help you out.”

Damn, have you really? It wouldn’t be the first time. Waking you is like trying to wake the dead.

“Oh,” you say sheepishly. Fair enough, he had to wake you, but—“Did you have to use your kinky, sex feather...thing?” You shiver in disgust. “Who knows where that’s been.”

He shrugs innocently, twirling the offending object between his fingers. “Nowhere gross...” His eyes flick up to yours, and he smiles once more. “Only up Danny’s ass.”

Your eyes widen, and you splutter. “What? Oh, my god—Jesus, that’s just—” You gag in the back of your throat. “You said it hadn’t been anywhere gross!”

He laughs again, sitting up. “I was telling the truth. Danny’s ass was far from gross.” A faraway look crosses his face. “It was heaven,” he muses wistfully before frowning. “God, I miss him.”

“Oh, honey,” you soften immediately, making your way to the bed and crawling toward Elliot to offer some comfort.

You know Danny and Elliot’s breakup was hard on him. He’d been completely in love with that man and was about to ask him to move in—with you both—when Danny decided to end the year-and-a-half relationship. It just wasn’t working was his excuse, but Elliot later found out the truth when Danny updated his Facebook page: he’d left Elliot for someone else.

“He didn’t deserve you,” you say, trying to make him feel better as you drape an arm around his shoulders. Sitting back on your heels, you add, “He was a dick for what he did. You shouldn’t be sad. He’s the one who lost someone who loved him. The only thing you lost was—”

“A twat-waffle who didn’t deserve me, I know,” he cuts you off, reciting your usual line before you can finish. You’ve said it enough times in the past three months since the breakup that he knows it by heart. “Thanks for trying to make me feel better, but...doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.”

“I know,” you respond quietly, your thoughts drifting to your own breakup. It’s been over a year now, but the pain still lingers. Your ex had been your first boyfriend—hell, your first everything. You’d met when you were seventeen, and you moved in with him before your next birthday. Everything happened so fast, and you didn’t see the cracks until it was too late. “But we have each other, right?” you say, giving Elliot a little shake.

He glances at you, his expression vulnerable. Big eyes, plucked thin eyebrows, a slight bump on his nose from when a bully broke it in his teens, full lips, high cheekbones, and when he smiles, dimples form on his cheeks.

“Yeah?” he replies, hopeful. “Even if I wake you up with a feather that’s been up my ex’s ass?”

You roll your eyes, pulling away to thump him on the arm. “Fucker,” you mutter as he starts giggling all over again. “Remind me why I love you?”

Grinning, he reaches into the pocket of his pajama shorts and pulls out his phone. "Because I'm adorable," he answers distractedly as he stares at the screen. "Oh, my first caller of the day! And it's Simon," he whispers the last part to you as if Simon could hear. "He sounds like a whale when he comes, but boy, does he have a gorgeous sex voice," he informs you. You snort as he accepts the call. "Why hello there, lover."

While Elliot makes himself comfortable against your pillows, you climb off the bed and head toward your wardrobe. You already have your outfit in mind—a pair of leggings and a plain white shirt.

"Mmm, that sounds so sexy, baby," you hear Elliot purr in the background, and you smile, shaking your head. You can’t imagine what people would think about you being in the same room as your guy roommate while he talks dirty to one of your clients, meanwhile, you're getting changed in the corner.

It’s a strange situation, to say the least.

As you remove your shirt with your back turned to Elliot, you can’t help but listen in to the conversation.

"I'd love to touch your nipples," Elliot hums behind you, getting into character. You know how much he loves talking dirty to guys. It’s a turn-on for him. Unlike you, who only really enjoys sex if it’s with someone you love. Elliot is way more adventurous and has had more one-night stands than you can count. "I'd love to stroke them, caress them, lick them. . .”

"Suck them," you add when you hear Elliot hesitate. You pull the straps of your bra up your arms and hook it at the back.

“Oh, and suck them," Elliot says as you pull your top on.

Since Elliot is still fairly new to this, he needs help sometimes. His situation had been very similar to yours—a broken-up relationship, no job, and forced to move back in with his mum until someone came along and gave him hope. For Elliot, that person was you. For you, that person was your boss, Jane.

Elliot's voice lowers as he talks to his client. "Your body is so pretty, honey. I can't wait to trace my tongue up and down your belly, and then start going lower and lower until I reach your—”

You cough quietly to yourself, trying to hide your smile as you change into your leggings and slip on a pair of fluffy pink socks. You’ve heard Elliot talk dirty loads of times, and he’s heard you talk dirty just as many. Part of training him was him having to listen in on your conversations, and then you monitoring his. Neither of you gets embarrassed around it anymore. It’s more amusing, to be completely honest.

Deciding to leave Elliot to it, you grab your phone off your bedside cabinet and quietly tiptoe to the door. Before you leave, you look over to Elliot and mouth, Coffee?

He nods enthusiastically at you and mouths back, Yes, please!

You’re halfway down the steps when you rub your eye and feel the crumbly sensation of mascara under your fingertip. You’ve forgotten to take your makeup off the night before. You curse to yourself before heading back upstairs to fetch a makeup wipe.

When you reach your room once more, Elliot looks at you questioningly before he notices your face. His lips curl into his mouth in an attempt not to laugh. You roll your eyes and put your middle finger up at him before heading over to your dresser, which sits directly opposite your bed. You open the top drawer and feel through the ridiculous amount of makeup and beauty products you’ve collected over time. As your fingers search, your eyes stare forward at your flat-screen TV mounted on the wall. You can see Elliot's reflection.

"God, you feel so tight around me," Elliot is telling his customer, and you bite your lip in an attempt not to laugh. Finally, your fingers grip the packet of wipes, and you pull them free. "I'm gonna come inside of your ass so damn hard—," Elliot is cut off by a muffled roar, and you turn to look at him questioningly.

He is still sitting on your bed, back against the pillows with one hand holding the phone far away from his ear. He has an uncomfortable look on his face, and it’s then you realize the noise has come from the phone. Or, more accurately, the noise is the loud, animal-like groans of a man coming hard.

Oh my god," you whisper to him quietly, now understanding what Elliot had meant by Simon sounding like a whale when he came.

Elliot uses his other hand to cover the bottom half of the phone, preventing Simon from hearing you speak. "Every. Damn. Time," he replies just as quietly, looking so serious it makes you giggle. He cracks his own smile before bringing the phone back to his ear. "Oh, that sounded like a good one, baby."

You’re glad Simon isn’t one of your callers because you’re not sure you’d be able to stay professional with that sound in your ear. You take care of your makeup before finally getting started on coffee.

Your living room and kitchen are all in one room. The only thing separating the rooms is the counter you eat at. Silver stools with black padded seats sit underneath, four of them for when you have guests over.

You walk past the L-shaped sofa and the counter. Once the coffee is on, you get started on breakfast. You decide on some cheesy, ham-scrambled eggs. Just as you start mixing the ingredients, your phone vibrates where you’ve placed it on the counter. You lean over far enough to see the screen. When no name appears, only a number, you figure it must be a new client since you save existing clients in your phone book.

You accept the call and bring it to your ear. "Hey there," you purr in your sexy voice. You never thought you had one until Elliot pointed it out to you. According to him, it’s a hot one too. "Tell me, gorgeous, what’s your name?"

"Josh." He’s breathing heavily, sounding as if he’s already started the party without you. "I-I'm new to all this…phone stuff," he informs you.

"That's fine, Josh," you say with a slight smile. "My name's Angel, and I’m going to take care of you, all right?" Your name isn’t Angel, but for safety reasons, you’re Angel as far as your customers know. And yes, you’re well aware of how clichéd it is.

"Yes," he tells you, his voice rougher than before. He’s probably getting more excited. Now, all you need to do is find out what he likes.

"Tell me, honey, you like it hard or soft, hm?" you question just as Elliot’s footsteps sound on the stairs.

"God. Hard. I like it hard," Josh answers. "I like it when you take control, with a little pain. Yeah, I like that a lot." In the background, you can hear the sound of his hand working his dick. At least you know he’s enjoying himself.

"Okay, Josh," you nod to yourself, knowing exactly where to go from here. Elliot appears in front of you, his lips forming an 'o' shape when he sees you’re with a client. You nod your head toward the food you’ve been preparing, signaling him to take over as you move away from the counter and toward the living area. Elliot passes you on the way, his hand patting you on the shoulder.

You flop over the arm of the chair and onto the sofa, landing with a bounce on your back. "The first thing I want you to do is to strip for me, now," you order him, reaching toward the coffee table when you spot a magazine there. You bring it over to you and open it. "Are you naked yet?"

"Almost," he practically gasps to you. You can hear some more shuffling, and then he's telling you, "Yes, mistress, I'm naked."

Mistress? You sigh internally. You seriously can't believe how many men are into the whole dominatrix kink. In the beginning, it was kind of fun, but by now, it’s getting pretty old.

Mentally awakening your inner dom, you relax further into the sofa and flip through the magazine. "Good boy," you coo, finding a 20 Sex Tips for Women article. Huh, how fitting. "Now, here's what I want you to do, and you better listen closely, pet."

The call ends up lasting 2 minutes and 28 seconds. Not bad for a newbie.

________

“I might have a date this weekend," Elliot mentions casually, making you glance over the top of your book at him, eyebrows raised.

A few hours have passed since breakfast, and you've had at least seven phone calls since. The two of you are relaxing in the living room, you on one side of your L-shaped sofa and Elliot on the other.

"And why is this the first I'm hearing of it?" you respond, feeling rather hurt. You tell each other everything. You know the penis size of every boyfriend he's had. How can he share that information so easily yet let something like a date stay secret?

He cringes, and you just know you're not going to like what's coming next. "Because..." he hesitates, takes a deep breath, and rushes out, "BecauseitswithDanny." He says it so fast it almost doesn't register, but the name Danny sticks out like a sore thumb.

"What!?" you exclaim, book falling forgotten onto the floor as you sit up. You're completely shocked, and you imagine your expression says everything before you even open your mouth. "How can you—why would you want to after what he did?" You can't understand what's going through Elliot's head, but you seriously want to knock some sense into him.

"I tried hinting to you this morning!" Elliot tells you, sitting up. The magazine he'd been reading earlier falls onto his lap, his attention now completely on you. "I told you I missed him!"

You scoff at that. "A hint is, 'Oh, by the way, I'm thinking of going on a date with my ex.' Not, 'I'm going to tickle you with Danny's ass-feather, complain about missing him, and hope that you get the hint that I'm going out with him this weekend despite the fact he broke my heart!'" You take a deep breath, oxygen running low after that rant. "Look, I know it's none of my business—"

"Of course it's your business. You're my best friend."

"—I just don't want you to get hurt," you continue as you both stare at each other with similar expressions. You're both desperate for the other to understand how you're feeling without wanting to cause any upset. "I love you, honey...and it destroyed you when he left."

"He said he's sorry," Elliot tells you quietly, making you realize just how much they've been talking. A pang of hurt goes through your heart, knowing that Elliot felt like he couldn't talk to you about this. "He said it was a mistake, one he wouldn't make again. But I don't want to jump back into things so...I told him we'll start slow."

"Well," you nod slightly. "That's something, I guess." It comforts you to know that he isn't rushing into the relationship again. Maybe, if they start from scratch, it could work this time. Unfortunately, your gut tells you different. "I'm going to be honest with you, okay?"

Elliot gives you a lopsided smile, causing a single dimple to form on his cheek. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

You smile back for a moment before turning serious again. "I think...you're thinking with your heart and not with your head," you tell him softly. "I think you're in love with him, and you miss him, and you're not thinking rationally about this. Which I totally understand, honey. You love him; I know you can't help that. I just worry that Danny knows how you feel about him, and he's going to use it to his advantage." You watch Elliot's expression closely; he's nodding, letting you know he's listening.

You give your lip a quick nibble before continuing. "But if this is something you feel like you need to do, then I'll support you, you know that."

"Thanks, babe," he responds sincerely, but his eyes are sad. "You're right. I know you're right, but...my heart wants this so damn badly."

"What's your gut telling you to do?" you ask him curiously. You’ve always believed in following your instincts.

"Run," he answers with a painful laugh. "Run and don't look back because he's only doing this as a rebound."

You frown at the information. "Rebound?"

Elliot nods, tears filling his eyes. He crosses his legs underneath him, which surprises you given how skinny his jeans are. One arm goes to the back of the sofa while the other runs through his slick-backed hair. He pulls his lips into his mouth for a moment, a habit of his, before telling you, "Him and Voldemort broke up. Danny says he broke it off because he misses me, but I checked Voldemort's page, and it looks like he's gone and gotten himself a new guy."

You hold back a snort at his nickname for Gary. Voldemort. It suits him. From Elliot's information, you're guessing that Danny is only after a rebound, but Elliot doesn't want to admit it because he still wants to be with Danny.

"Honey..." you sigh, scooting across the sofa so you can give Elliot a cuddle. He immediately returns the gesture but stays seated, whereas you lean up on your knees, making you higher than him. You rest your head on top of his, your arms around his neck. You know you don't need to say anything. Elliot knows he's burying his head in the sand. You think he just needs to find out the hard way; otherwise, he'd always regret not trying.

"I'm here for you," you assure him. This is something he needs to do, and you can't protect him from it, no matter how much you want to.

"Thank you," he tells you tearfully. You can hear how upset he is, but he's trying to hold it back. You squeeze him tighter, wishing you could take away all his pain. "You're the best friend a guy could ask for."

Your lips curve at that. "I know," you joke because really, you're not that big-headed. "Now," you say as you pull away but keep your arms around his neck. "What do you say we turn our phones off for a while, get a Chinese, and watch some crappy chick flicks?"

His eyes are bloodshot and wet with tears, but the smile he gives you is genuine happiness. And that you completely understand because food makes you feel the same way. "I love you so much."

The film you end up watching is beyond cheesy, but the humor is awesome, and you find yourself giggling along. Your Chinese food is now in your overly-stuffed belly, and the only things left are the containers sitting on the coffee table in front of you.

You sit side-by-side with Elliot, shoulders touching, a leopard-print blanket draped over your laps. Both of you ordered a beer with the takeaway. It isn’t enough to get you drunk, but that wasn’t the plan since you need to turn your phones back on for work later.

By the time the film ends, Elliot seems to be in a much better mood. Hopefully, he’ll stay that way for the next few hours.

“Gosh,” Elliot starts, reaching behind the sofa to the side table where a lamp sits. He switches it on, making you both blink against the sudden brightness. “I haven’t laughed that hard in ages.”

“Same,” you say, squinting as your eyes adjust. Your muscles feel cramped, so you throw off the blanket and stretch. As you straighten your body, you begin to slide off the sofa but don’t bother stopping it. You let yourself slip onto the floor.

With the coffee table in the way, you have to arrange yourself so you’re lying between the sofa and the table. The wooden flooring is cold against your right arm, while the left side of your body enjoys the comfort of the fur rug.

“Weirdo,” Elliot snorts from above.

“Don’t judge,” you respond, letting out a yawn. Watching films always makes you tired. Maybe it strains your eyes. The floor is oddly tempting right now—so cozy—or maybe Elliot is right, and you’re just a weirdo.

“Ah, ah, ah,” Elliot speaks again, his foot nudging your side. “Can’t sleep now. We’ve got horny customers waiting.”

It’s only then you realize you’ve closed your eyes. “I’m up,” you mumble, forcing yourself to sit upright. The smell of Chinese food still lingers in the air. It was absolutely delicious, but your stomach protests now, begging you not to even inhale another whiff of it. You pat your belly proudly, knowing it did a good job handling the feast.

“Good,” Elliot says. “We gotta get to work.”

Neither of you moves.

“For fuck’s sake,” Elliot sighs after a moment, making you crack a smile. “It’s so much effort. I hate... effort,” he says, spitting the word as if it leaves a bad taste in his mouth.

You tilt your head to look at him better. “Just think about all those handsome, horny men stroking their dicks, waiting for you to—”

“I’m up!” Elliot exclaims, jumping to his feet. His hands dive into his pockets as you laugh loudly. “Christ, where’s my phone? My customers need me!” He’s being overly dramatic on purpose, and it makes you giggle even harder.

“It’s not funny!” he tells you, though he’s trying his hardest not to smile. “Who’s going to give those guys their orgasms? This is a serious situation!”

You giggle again, but then you try to put on a straight face. “You’re right. There could be a riot!” you gasp dramatically. “I’ll get on the phone to the prime minister right away!”

“And the president!” Elliot chimes in, but then you make eye contact, and the two of you burst into laughter. Sure, you can act pretty silly sometimes, but it’s healthy. At this age, you feel more mature than most people your age, but that doesn’t mean you can’t be childish once in a while.

Once you both calm down, you know playtime is over. It’s really time to get to work. Sighing, you take Elliot’s hand when he offers it to you, and he easily pulls you up from the floor.

“Thanks, kid,” you tell him, standing on your tiptoes to ruffle his hair. You know he hates when you do that.

He lets out a high-pitched squeak and backs away. “You know my rules!”

“No one touches the hair,” you recite dutifully.

“Yes!” he says, rolling his eyes. “And yet you always forget. And what do you mean ‘kid’? I’m older than you!”

“Yes, well, mentally you’re the age of ten, so…”

“Bitch,” he says, lightly punching your arm, and you laugh.

“Is that all you’ve got?” you tease.

He plants his hands on his hips, cocking a hip at you and raising an eyebrow. “Honey, you can’t handle what I’ve got.”

“I’m heading upstairs. Gonna talk dirty to some dudes, grab a shower, change into my pajamas, get some more horny people off, read a book, then go to bed.”

Elliot takes the phone and nods. “Sounds like a damn good plan,” he says, holding up his hand.

You smile and give him a high-five.

One of the hardest parts of your job is keeping things fresh and coming up with new ideas. That’s why you love working with Elliot. He’s a guy; he knows what men like, so whenever you feel like you need something different, he’s your go-to.

New customers are always the easiest to please. No matter what you say, it’s fresh to them. Exciting. It’s your recurring customers who require more effort. There are only so many ways to describe a blowjob before it starts feeling repetitive. When you get that feeling of déjà vu, you worry your client does too.

Oh, and trying to figure out what a guy likes? That’s another challenge. Sometimes, it feels like a seriously fucked-up game of I-Spy.

“I spy with my little eye…” Imaginary-you says in a hopeful voice. “A foot fetish? No? Fuck.” You’re rocking back and forth now, losing hope. “I spy with my little—oh, I know! Voyeurism?” you practically beg, thinking about pulling your brains out with a spoon if this doesn’t work. “…Golden showers?”

Okay, maybe you’re being a bit overdramatic, but you get the point. It’s frustrating, especially when the client is shy and doesn’t know what they like themselves.

Deciding you’re getting cranky—probably because you’re tired—you decide to finish half an hour early tonight. You shouldn’t, especially after already losing a few hours of work earlier, but you’ve made enough money to cover your half of rent and bills this month. You’ve still got a week to earn more for food and anything else you need.

So yeah, you’ll finish early.

Yawning, you pull the covers out from underneath your ass before throwing them over yourself. You’re already in your pajamas—a loose pair of pink shorts and a white strap top—and your book sits next to you, waiting to be read.

But just as you pick up your phone, ready to turn it off, a new number flashes on the screen. You stare at it for a moment, wondering if it’s worth leaving. The problem is, with it being a new customer, leaving a bad impression could mean they wouldn’t come back.

“Damn,” you mutter under your breath, knowing the professional businesswoman in you can’t risk losing what might end up being a recurring customer. As far as you know, this phone call could change your career. You snort at that. Highly unlikely, but it’s going to bring in extra money, which is a good enough reason. “Just this last one, then I’m going to bed,” you tell yourself.

You place the earphones back into your ears and press the green button on your touchscreen. “Hey there, handsome.” There’s a pause, and you briefly wonder if they’ve decided to hang up when he finally speaks.

“Hey,” he responds simply, sounding kind of awkward.

“You caught me just in time,” you say naughtily.

“Oh?” he sounds intrigued, though the awkwardness remains. He’s probably just shy or clueless about what to do. “Why is that?”

For a moment, you’re taken aback by how much you’re attracted to his voice. That’s never happened to you before, and he’s barely said five words. Masculine, educated, and gruff. Swoon.

“Um...” You try to get back into character while scolding yourself. The conversation has only just started; you can’t screw it up already. Get your head in the game, girl. “Because I’m wet and needing a man to help me out.” Internally, you wince. That’s pretty weak considering how good you usually are at this.

He doesn’t seem to think so because he releases a sexy, “Shit. I—” He’s breathing heavily, and you wait for him to finish, sensing he has something else he wants to say. “I don’t know if this was a good idea,” he admits after a moment.

Fuck, you’re losing him, and you’re losing him fast. You need to think quickly if you want to keep him on the line. You don’t want to admit it, but your interest in this man goes beyond the money you’re earning from him. He’s ignited something in you. “Wait! Please,” you breathe. “I—I’m so horny. I need you. Please? Just stroke your dick for me. I need it.” There you go; you knew you could do better.

“Damn it,” he hisses, and then there’s the sound of a belt buckle, and you know you’ve got him. “What’d you need, sweetie? Tell me,” he demands, and for the first time since doing this job, you feel a wave of lust hit you.

Swallowing in an attempt to bring moisture back to your dry mouth—it all seems to have headed south, if you know what you mean—you respond truthfully, “You.” Jesus, you shouldn’t be doing this, but before you can stop yourself, your left hand is slipping underneath your strap top and finding your breasts. “I need you, please—” You pause for a second. You don’t know if it will work, but if you’re right about him, this is going to go down a treat. For both him and for you. “—sir.”

And you’re right because he lets out a loud groan, making you squeeze your thighs together in response. Jesus, you haven’t wanted someone this badly in what feels like forever.

“Fuck, you’re going to be such a good girl for me, aren’t you?”

You’re already nodding before he finishes his sentence. “Yes, god, yes.” You move your right hand so it’s also caressing your breasts. In this moment, you completely love your headset, which allows you to talk and touch at the same time.

“Mm, you’re so obedient, baby,” he tells you, approval evident in his husky voice. “Tell me, Princess, tell me are your nipples hard?”

Your pussy clenches almost painfully, and you try to remind it to calm down because it’s only just started. “They’re hard. So hard they’re showing through my shirt.”

You’re getting so hazy with lust you’re not sure what to do with yourself, so you pinch your nipples roughly and almost cry out in frustration, knowing it would be so much better if he were doing it for you.

“Damn, that’s beautiful, sweetheart,” he tells you, and your belly does a funny flip. “You touchin’ them? Want you to roll them between your fingers. Not too hard, just enough pressure to leave you needing more.”

It’s not easy to admit, but you think he’s better at this than you are, and it crosses your mind that you should probably be paying him. “I already am,” you confess with a guilty laugh. “Your voice... it’s, uh, fucking hot.” You hesitate because you’re not sure if you can say that to him. It’s not very professional, but then you remind yourself that you’re only second-guessing it because you’re actually getting off on it.

"You that eager for me, princess?" he sounds pretty damn pleased with himself. "Tell me how it feels. You know, I'm stroking my dick to this. Getting hard over the noises you're making, and the pretty picture you're giving me."

The image of this man, who you are undoubtedly attracted to, stroking his hard cock over the thought of you pleasuring yourself drives you crazy. He seems so generous, something rare nowadays.

"It feels..." you breathe, trying to find the right words. "Like it's not enough. I need more. Christ." You throw your head back against your pillows, frustrated with yourself and the way you're acting. Completely unprofessional.

"Shh," he coos softly. "I've got you. I'm going to take care of you. Okay, princess?" He's so freaking good at this. You're practically shivering in anticipation of what he might say next. "I want you to get naked for me. And tell me, baby, you got any toys?"

"Um," you think about his question as you pull your strap top over your head. It gets caught on the earphone wire. "Wait a second." You quickly untangle yourself before placing the earphones back into your ears. Moving on to your shorts, you push them eagerly down your legs. "Yes, I have one of those little bullet vibrators."

"Good. I want you to get it for me, princess."

You bite your lip for a moment, feeling extremely dirty about what you're about to do. "Yes, sir..." you say before reaching toward your side cabinet and opening the bottom drawer. In an old, tiny, purple purse with a single zip sits the bullet. You take it out before getting comfortable on the bed once more. "I've got it."

He hums in approval. "Now, I'm more than happy to go slow, make this last, but I'm sensing that my girl wants to come hard and fast, am I right?"

You suck in an unsteady breath. Being called his girl really shouldn't make you feel as giddy as it does. Why and how does a complete stranger have such an effect on you? You're never one of those girls who fall for a man's charm easily. Yet here you are, swooning over a guy because he's good at talking dirty and has a sexy voice.

Apparently you were easier to seduce than you originally thought.

"Yes," you choke out, wondering if you'd wake up if you pinched yourself hard enough. You wouldn't try it, though, just in case you were dreaming. You really aren't ready for it to end. "God, yes."

"All right then," he chuckles, the sound warm. "I'll do what you want this time. Next time, what I say goes, okay, princess?"

Before you have a chance to respond, he's giving you more orders, and in no way are you complaining.

"I want you to spread your pretty little thighs for me, baby." His voice, and the way he's breathing, gives you the impression that he's getting just as excited as you are.

"Okay," you squeak rather embarrassingly. Cool air hits your most sensitive area as you do what he orders, your hands resting against the inside of your thighs, fingers clutching your vibrator as you wait impatiently for his instructions.

You have yet to turn the bullet on, but it already feels like your insides are vibrating.

"Now, take your hand and spread your pussy lips for me."

And there you go, once again speechless—and breathless—because of this man and his words. Seriously, he could do this job better than you. You have to admit, you're storing parts of this conversation away for both personal and professional use later on.

Your hands automatically do as he says, your body desperate for some kind of release. You feel overwhelmed and don't know where to start or what to do in order to relieve it. Thank God you have him to guide you; otherwise, you might combust. Then again, if he wasn't here, you wouldn't have this problem in the first place.

"Okay," you breathe, feeling more and more like a client than a sex line operator. But taking control is obviously something he enjoys, so who are you to put a stop to this? What’s the saying? ‘Customers are always right?’ Well, you absolutely, completely, one hundred percent agree!

"Stretch yourself out," he continues, his voice starting to strain. "Force your sexy little clit out of its hood. I don't want it hiding when you start fucking yourself. All right, princess?"

Fuckkk. Just when you think he can't possibly get any hotter, he goes and says that. Your pussy feels like it’s on fire; your clit is so swollen it hurts. You wouldn't be surprised if you came the second you put any pressure on your nub.

"Now," he continues. "Turn your bullet on and press it to your clit. You're not allowed to stop until your legs are shaking and you're calling out my name. Got it?" You can hear how hard he's pumping his dick now. For a moment, you feel guilty. Are you neglecting him? But then you remind yourself again that this is what he wants.

You know you're not going to last long. You're too excited. Not to mention, it’s been a while since you've spent some time with your right hand. You twist the top of your bullet, putting it on the highest speed. You know you're worked up enough to take it; usually, you start on low and build your way up because you're overly sensitive. Right now, you know it won’t be an issue.

The bullet starts to shake violently, but the noise is low, like a quiet buzzing. Your left hand holds yourself open, fingers forming a 'V' and spreading your lips as far as you can, just as he instructed.

You don’t need to tell him what you’re doing; the moment you press the bullet to yourself, a half-gasp, half-moan escapes your lips. You’re right—you definitely won’t last long. The vibrations are intense, and you draw small circles on yourself, pushing yourself even closer to the edge.

“Damnit,” he hisses. You’re quickly learning it’s one of his favorite words. “You sound fucking sexy. Wish I could see you. Watch you,” he inhales sharply. He’s just as close as you are.

“What’s—” you attempt to speak but end up gasping instead. Wetness gathers below, soaking your entrance and trailing toward your clit. The added lubrication lets the bullet slide more freely around your nub, the sensation unbelievable. “What’s—”

“Princess?” he chokes, likely having the same problem as you.

So close now. So fucking close. You just need a little more. The rhythm is perfect, and you can hear him breathing in your ear, letting out the occasional groan. It’s too damn much, but you can’t let yourself go—not without— “What’s your name?”

"Joel."

"Fuck - Joel!"

You see stars, as cliché as it sounds. Your whole body breaks into spasms, your left hand falling to the sheets and gripping the fabric desperately. Your right hand forces the bullet between your slippery lips, and your thighs clamp around your hand. Incoherent words tumble from your mouth: “Oh god,” “Fuck,” and Joel’s name.

As you come back down to earth, you can hear that Joel barely followed two seconds behind.

“Damn it, Princess. You’re so fucking good. Sound so pretty. Done so well,” the words spill from his mouth like sweet wine. He probably isn’t even aware of them. The sound of him fisting his dick is irregular and off-beat. “Fuck. Damn. You’re such a good girl.”

You remove the bullet from yourself—if you leave it there any longer, it’s going to become painful—and let out a giggle. Your cheeks are flushed, your body buzzing with pleasure. Lightheaded and giddy, you think to yourself that this guy must be amazing in bed. “That was fucking amazing.”

“Yeah,” he laughs breathlessly. “You can say that again. I can’t believe I almost hung up.”

“That would have been bad,” you reply, wondering if your heart will slow down anytime soon. “Very, very bad.”

“Oh yeah,” he agrees, then pauses before adding, “Let me ask you something.”

“Go ahead.” You hesitate for only a moment. It’s unusual for clients to stick around afterward, but you’ve quickly realized this guy isn’t a normal caller.

“What’s your real name?” he asks. “No way is it ‘Angel.’” He snorts, finding your alias hilarious.

Is Angel that bad of a name? You think it’s kind of cool. The company is called Angels and Demons, with you being the Angel. Elliot’s alias is Daemon because it’s close to “demon” but sounds way better. When a customer calls, they get an automated voice instructing them to press the number for their chosen operator, complete with a brief description.

You’re losing your train of thought; you can’t give him your real name, can you? It’s against the rules. If Jane found out, she’d be pissed. She wouldn’t fire you, but her anger is almost as bad. With the image of facing her wrath in mind, you tell Joel, “I’m sorry, I can’t.” Your tone is regretful because you’d really like to tell him. “My boss would…it’s against the rules.”

“Ah,” he responds, masking the disappointment. “It’s all right. I understand.”

“Sorry,” you apologize again, hating the idea of letting him down, especially after how amazing he just made you feel.

"Seriously, Princess, it’s fine,” he reassures you, easing the guilt. “I had a really good time tonight. You can bet I’ll be expecting a repeat tomorrow.” You just know that if you could see him right now, his eyes would sparkle with mischief.

Your pussy throbs again just thinking about it. God, he makes you insatiable. “I’m really, really looking forward to it,” you tell him honestly.

“Me too.” There’s a brief pause, then, “Goodnight, Princess.”

“Goodnight, Joel.” Hanging up the phone, you place it against your lips, letting everything sink in. Alone with your thoughts, you can’t believe you just had full-blown phone sex with a client. It’s so unlike you. It’s more like something Elliot would do. Speaking of…

“Elliot, you won’t believe what just happened!” you shout at the top of your lungs.

#joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel x reader

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vulchak · 13 days ago

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So. I watched the live action Lilo and Stitch. (Completely unrelated but Jack Sparrow is one of my favorite Disney characters, anyway-) The original is my favorite 2d Animated movie. I wanted to wait a couple days just to get my thoughts in order but I think the notes I took while watching are more accurate to how I feel about this insult to animation, storytelling and character

It got long so TL;DR, This whole movie feels gutted. Gutted of the themes, of the atmosphere, and of the heart. A downright insult to the original. How this badly acted, lit, and animated thing is getting good reviews is beyond me. It doesn't hold up neither as a remake, nor as a movie in its own right

Right off the bat the pace is 5 times quicker than the original. Nothing has time to sink in, I feel like I'm watching the movie at double speed

And they've moved things around for no reason, Stitch is shown first, then Jumba is brought in, which just dampens the impact of both their introductions

Jumba sounds 20 years younger and way more boring than he should, he sounds like a stock random guy, not an experienced and unhinged genius. His grammar is fixed but his accent is also gone which just makes him sound less unique. I don't blame the VA, he did great as the Lego Joker but he was just miscast here

The grand councilwoman is done so dirty already. In the original she sounds genuenly hopeful Stitch can show signs of goodness and be spared. Nope, here she's so monotone it's like she's obligated to ask him to say something

She doesn't ask for an expert, Pleakely comes running in himself. In a cowboy hat for some reason. She also has a bizarre amount of modern slang like "crikey" and "you're kidding" which feels extremely out of character and forced

She also gets Stitch's biology wrong? "Water increases his molecular density" the fuck it doesn't, HIS OWN molecular density is great, which makes him sink. He's dense, that's the point. Water doesn't affect him he just can't swim cause he's heavy

She doesn't seem to care about her own people because she doesn't tell no one to back away from Stitch's ship when he engages hyperdrive. Which in the original was also a built up dangerous thing he did, here it's blink and you'll miss it. We don't even see him properly escape anything. The guns just blow up the door, we see him running down a hall for 2 seconds, next time we see Stitch he's on the ship, that's it

Pleakley is excited to go to earth and Jumba is the one who SUGGESTS it, he basically blackmails the grand councilwoman, saying he'll capture 626 in exchange for his lab back. Pointless changes that only serve to make the story less impactful and more childish. And this whole thing goes by in 5 minutes, in the original I swear it was at least twice as long. (Edit: I checked, it is twice as long)

The social worker scene, completely different, no "my friends need to be punished" line. Overall just, worse version of the original, not much to say

Nani is now outright stated to be studying to be a marine biologist instead of the subtle environmental storytelling of her being a champion surfer from the original. Not a bad idea? But it should've been more subtle, so far it feels like this movie thinks you're stupid and need to be told everything, despite supposedly being "the more mature version for adults"

David is cringe now and that's his whole joke. He's not really endearing anymore

Stitch wrecking his own spaceship is just stupid

Lilo and Nani's argument and subsequent make up talk have absolutely zero impact compared to the original. The constellation thing is cute I guess

When Nani is being shoved out the room so Lilo can make a wish, she didn't even fall on Lilo, and Lilo's wish is worded much worse than the original. More long winded. Stitch coming out from the crash site is SO UGLY compared to the original

If I had a nickel for every movie that's got a blue CGI character crashing a wedding and Uptown funk in the soundtrack I'd have two nickles. Which isn't a lot but at least SONIC 2 WAS A GOOD MOVIE

Lilo meets Stitch. MISSED. THE POINT. OF THE SCENE. ENTIRELY.

First of all he's supposed to go "Haaaiii" after he heard Lilo way hi to him first. How the fuck does he know to say hi when all she did was scream? Second, he's tiny, Lilo picks him up. He's supposed to be so dense adults can barely hold him, how the hell is Lilo just, carrying him around? And if it's water that makes him heavy for real. Then that's just stupid

Also love how no one is freaking out about it, the lady working there casually leashes him and sounds so disinterested. Every person in the movie (except Lilo she's doing very well) sound like they don't wanna be there

They're giving Nani less to do and making her worse. In the original, they were at the dog shelter because she heard Lilo's wish and wanted to make it come true. Now its the neighbour taking Lilo, and not even to the shelter, not to adopt a dog, they just kinda. Do. Without Nani's permission which is another problem

Cobra being CIA and involving the authorities as a whole is. Dumb

Oh so Nani came up with the name Stitch. Wonderful. One stupid decision after another

"I read her text messages." People in present day still keep diaries there was no need to change that. Hello fellow kids ass line

Nani being mean to Lilo after losing the job and making it very clear it's Lilo's fault, instead of comforting her and going along with her bug imagination. Way to ruin the best big sister in your history, Disney

They turned the "Ohana means family" scene comedic. WHO THE FUCK THOUGHT THAT WAS A GOOD IDEA AND WHICH SLUG-BRAINED MORON APPROVED IT?

Nani being a jackass again. "We were left behind" that's exactly what you say to your grieving 6yo sister about the parents who tragically passed, Nani, way to go. Makes it sound like they ditched them on purpose

Telling us about the room full of trophies instead of showing us. This movie is for babies in a way the original never was

Stitch spelling out he has no family instead of the again, much more mature and subtle dialogue of the original

The teaching Stitch hula thing was alright I guess

Nani doesn't even see Stitch being a record player is lame. Followed up with a fart joke

Remix of Hawaiian Rollercoaster ride is worse than the original in both sound and placement. It was a personal moment for the family. To take their minds off the bad day of not finding jobs. Now it's just. Full of tourists, and Nani teaching/being at her job

Also Stitch being the one to ask to go in the water first. Goes against the story, he's supposed to be shown it's OK first, by being taken in by Lilo. But no, just sees a dog, decides he wants to. FUCKING STUPUD

Whole hospital insurance thing seems so showhorned in. Not having a job was reason enough for that contract

And Stitch not being directly blamed for it. Again. Zero. Impact. They've literally turned this into a stock "CG character stuffed into a plot with live humans" movie. And it's disgusting to watch

Jumba is turning into a villain. Lame. His dynamic with Pleakely is also fucked

The hammock scene is again just. A worse version of the original, I don't know what to say at this point. This whole movie is somehow so fast and so sluggish at the same time, it's impressive how bad the pacing is

Stitch doesn't even see the ugly duckling book, doesn't talk to Lilo, doesn't go to the woods with the ducks just. Goes to his crate??? For some reason??

And LILO finds HIM. NAH, missed thr entire point, AGAIN

Wedgie joke, butt joke. More completely unnecessary childish humor

The portal gun is an alright gimmick but. Meh. And no song playing over it. So immediately less memorable scene. Elvis as a whole is very absent from this movie

NAH WE AIN'T DOING A LIAR REVEALED WITH STITCH, WHAT EVEN IS THIS MOVIE

Stitch himself feels like a non character in his own movie somehow, he's just there to be a dog, a cute CG character to sell merch. So many of his important scenes are missing or so watered down it barely feels like the same character

Reference to the other experiments is neat but thats not how 627 is made, you can't just turn one experiment into another

Cobra being the one who turns and helps them. Stupid. He was supposed to be a good guy the entire time

The climax is so anticlimactic compared to the original too. Painfully obvious they were out of a budget

Lilo having to leave Stitch to drawn should hit hard. It doesn't. That thing spent the whole movie being annoying, stiffly animated, and frankly I don't care if it drowns. That's not Stitch. It's a badly made imitation

Oh and now they're recussitating him. With jumper cables. And he threw up the important family photo. This isn't Lilo and stitch. In writing, acting, or soul. And I swear they're reusing voice lines for Stitch in some scenes

The reason for Stitch staying before was such a beautiful simple solution. He was adopted, as a pet, he's Lilo's. But now. Overcomolicated, stupid, and again, the councilwoman used to geneunly want to give Stitch a chance and let him stay. Now she seems much more reluctant and it doesn't work as well. The mosquito thing didn't come up, Stitch doesn't let his antenna and extra limbs out for Lilo to see

David is being so fucking stupid- they turned one of the best Disney men into an annoying stock moron. Oh and Nani doesn't have a job and can't be in charge of Lilo. Sure putting her with the neighbours and letting Nani go study is fine, I guess? But it isn't nowhere near satisfying and misses the entire point of Nani's character

Not sure if there's anything past the credits, I didn't watch those.

#lilo and stitch #lilo and stich 2025 #Lilo and stitch 2025 spoilers #Anyone who pays money to watch this slop loses my respect #I need the live action remake trend to wither and rot #The sooner the better

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whyohwhydoris · 1 month ago

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Perrin through the looking glass - why Mon's husbands might be more than he seems

Before I begin: SPOILERS!

For both Season 1 and more importantly SPOILERS FOR SEASON 2 OF ANDOR! Are we all adequately warned? Neat, let's proceed.

It seems to be the popular consensus that Perrin is a wastrel and a tool. That he's some looser that Mon got saddled with then she was 15 and now she's stuck with this vacuous man-child.

And, maybe? I can't dismiss it. Sometimes, a thing is what it looks like at first blush.

But I have a sneaking suspicion he isn't that simple.

Let me roll this back to when we first actually meet Perrin, in the fourth episode of Season 1 - Aldhani. Dinner Plans

Aldhani introduces Mon. Mon is visiting Luthen to inform him that she is under increased security scrutiny. Her cover is buying a birthday gift for Perrin. She then returns home, and is surprised by Perrin preparing a dinner table for guests.

During the conversation that follows, Mon acts blindsided by Perrin, but it is vital to note several things:

Perrin booked this dinner into Mon's calendar. It was added a month in advance, and after discussing it with Mon. Mon accuses Perrin of wearing her down, Perrin replies he didn't think anyone could do that.

Perrin is hosting the governor of Hanna, a former regimental pal of his. He is also hosting Sly Moore and other senior officials in the Imperial Administration. When Mon protests this on account of their political enmity, Perrin suggest the dinner may lead to them thinking twice in future about opposing her.

When Mon protests that Perrin didn't inform her of his guests, he says it's late to cancel, but ultimately will if she demands it. Mon replies "well played Perrin" as though he has won a duel with her, but doesn't make him cancel.

Mon demands not to be sat with her opponents. Perrin says this has already been taken care of - she is at the opposite end of the table. He jokingly says she is at the boring end of the table, while these guests will be with him at the fun end.

Mon, who is under direct personal stress about her rebel activities, goes off at him. He suggests she rests.

Perrin pivots to the rumor of a present. Mon says it is going back, and Perrin doesn't question this, but does ask whether everything must be boring and sad.

Okay, so that's a lot to unpack, but I feel like this interaction is where everybody gets their opinion of Perrin cemented. Because we're introduced to Mon first, and know her more from other Star Wars, we sympathize with her. But let's look at what we learned here:

Perrin talked to Mon in advance. He scheduled, managed, and arranged this entire dinner. Mon is busy - very busy - and so he has done all the work. Mon implies Perrin wore her down, but does that really sound like Mon? In the same conversation, she says "Don't make me pay attention or I will" - basically, don't get political or I will voice my stance and make a scene. That is not 'gets worn down' behaviour.

Perrin was in the military, and he was friends with the kind of people that are subsequently governors, and people like Sly Moore - Palpatine's chief of staff! Perrin is, on his own, well connected and could be engaged in a private career in the military or civil administration. But he isn't.

When challenged about his guests, Perrin's first reply is political. Perrin is saying that, by wining and dining these people, Mon may be able to butter them up and make them less hostile on policy. This is an astute observation given by how much of galactic politics isn't actually about policy, but instead about lining the various player's own pockets.

Perrin offers, if somewhat tongue in cheek, to cancel. Mon sees this as a barb, but he is actually making this offer. It's clear he'll be upset, but he says he will do it, but it is her decision.

Perrin has anticipated and accommodated Mon's protest regarding seating. He is keeping her as separated as possible from her opponents.

Mon isn't actually reacting rationally. She has a lot dropped on her, but she forgot the dinner. She is also the busy senator, while Perrin has arranged all this. While this is at one level dismissive of her, it is also the correct call to ensure she is fit to deal with the politically fraught dinner.

While his present comment feels petty, Mon has just stormed in, trashed his efforts, treated him as hostile from the first, and is now continuing to be petty. And Perrin's question - "Why must everything be boring and sad?" - implies that he lives a sad existence without levity, one somewhat imposed by Mon.

Mon is not a bad person. But, if we remove our pro-Mon bias, this was not a good interaction by her. We know why. But Perrin literally can't. She has closed that off from him.

The other part of this is that we're looking at this from the perspective of Mon The Rebel and not Mon The Politician. If we look at it from the political perspective, Perrin has used his birthday to leverage his personal connections to give Mon potential access to political rivals who she may be able to soften up using a personal connection to counter their notional "policy" differences. He has invited senior individuals and at least one Imperial governor. These are tools that The Politician could use. But Mon is reacting as The Rebel instead.

Other interactions need less direct and in-depth analysis, fortunately. But it feels important to dive in to that first scene and pick it apart a bit. Family Breakfast 1

The next meeting is the breakfast scene. In this scene, we see Leida and Mon argue. But first, Leida tries to fob Mon off, and pivots to ask Perrin to cover for her. Perrin tells her to talk to Mon. It culminates in Leida saying that Mon doesn't have to pretend to be a good mother.

Mon is hurt by this, but she is actually not a great parent. Between her political and rebel activities, we know that she is spread incredibly thin. Leida is Mon's daughter and feels unloved because of a lack of attention for her. Perrin cannot address that.

As the arguement progresses, Mon asks Perrin if he is enjoying the argument. He clearly isn't. Mon will then complain about Perrin's lack of support. The problem is, Mon is laying into Perrin here and blaming him. But Perrin cannot address the issue of Leida feeling unloved by her own mother. Perrin already forced Leida to confront Mon, but he cannot fix this for the two of them.

In fact, Perrin's reactions are a seeming gladness that Leida's feeling are finally getting an airing. He brought what is clearly a serious underlying upset for Leida to Mon's attention directly, and given Leida agency to address Mon without de-legitimizing Leida's feelings by taking Mon's side on a basis of parental authority. Mon is hurt by Leida's words. But Leida is being hurt by Mon's inability to be a mother.

That isn't a crime. Again, Mon isn't evil. But this is something she is failing at. If we look at this from Perrin's perspective: Leida is embracing conservative traditions he does not like, but he has to be her available parent because Mon isn't present. This is causing Leida emotional distress and anger, and Perrin encourages Leida to confront her mother about this. While we can argue parenting, this is not a bad way to Parent a 14/15 year old girl. He is providing Leida agency and autonomy to deal with a personal grievance. He can't discipline her, because she is already slipping away from him and Mon with her turn to ultra-conservatism. He can't take this to Mon because she doesn't engage in her home life - like, we literally just saw her forget her own Husband's birthday dinner!

A lot of people see it as Perrin and Leida ganging up on Mon, but this is again a very biased read if we remember that Perrin is the stay-at-home dad and Mon is always too busy for her family life. Car Ride 1

Perrin and Mon are in their car, returning from some occasion. Perrin mentions that Mon saw him talking to someone. He also mentions that person knew more about Mon's work than he did.

Mon says that must be embarrassing. Again, she is making this personally about Perrin. But this misses the reverse implication: Mon isn't sharing herself with Perrin. And now, when he asks why Mon thinks he wouldn't care about her foundations, she insults him by saying "It's charitable". Perrin engages with Mon's political profession. He is an ambassador for her policies. But he can't do that if he is getting blindsided.

I know this risks sounding like Mon bashing - it really isn't. The problem is that Perrin exists entirely within the context of Mon, and so we have to remove ourself from our enhanced knowledge of Mon and the bias that introduces when we assess Perrin. Mon clearly upsets him, as he asks Kloris - their driver - to take a faster route home. But, he also asks Mon for Kloris's name before addressing him. This calls back to Mon chiding him for not knowing Kloris's name earlier - it is a sign that he is being deferential to her - and doesn't argue with her or get confrontational - because he has read her as not being in a space to engage with that. Cocktails 1

Leida approaches Perrin asking to be excused. Perrin tells her to check with Mon. Again, Perrin is not cutting Mon out. We know he is acutely aware of the political. Leida dipping out on Mon is a bad look politically. Perrin knows that. And so he is letting Mon manage that, which instead bolsters her image by making her the engaged mother.

During Mon's conversation with Tay, Perrin is socializing and watching her. We are invited to read Perrin's regard as a suspicion of Mon and Tay sharing in infidelity. The second episode of season 2 might suggest otherwise - but we'll get there.

And, what we do see is Mon acting furtively in public. Watch her face. She isn't as subtle as she thinks. And Perrin clocks this. But, notably, so does one of the women he is talking with at the bar. She looks directly at Tay and Mon, only to be drawn back to Perrin by conversation. When Perrin finished with the women he intercedes with Mon - he knows Mon is up to something, and that people are noticing it. He also intervenes with the justification that there are guests requiring special handling. Again, a political justification. And he does so loudly enough for people to see that he, Tay, and Mon are all talking together. Cocktails 2

The scene starts with Perrin asking what Mon's objective is for the night. When Tay arrives - very jovially and with a very personal attitude - Perrin stresses that Mon is working. He says Tay is not on the menu - again implying he sees infidelity (Again, back to this later). But he also says she is pitching politics and not charity. Combined with a few later moment, I think Perrin has a strong suspicion about the fact that Mon isn't actually engaging in conventional charity.

Perrin is sarcastic about how Mon is "saving the empire from the Emperor." In response, Mon asks Tay if he remembers Perrin at 15. Perrin says "let's not" and Mon goes on, calling him "The academy firebrand".

The implication is that Perrin used to be every bit as political as Mon herself.

When Tay says that the PORD is having an effect, Perrin says the Rebels should have thought about that before blowing up Aldhani. This is, again, a political observation. The Aldhani attack is a direct threat to Mon's stated policies. And Perrin has already established he is helping Mon with that when he asks for the agenda.

The other interesting thing is that Leida comments about Tay always being around - and seems to be uncomfortable about how close Tay and Mon are. This needs revisiting in a moment.

Finally Perrin has sent a seemingly friendly Senator to find Mon, who is trying to capture votes. He is supporting her politics here. Later He is shown to be being a gracious host to her guests, to be encouraging people to talk to Mon about inconsequential questions - a way to get conversations started. He also seem to be unhappy when he describes his marriage to Mon as "traditional". Family Breakfast 2

Auntie Vel is here! We open on Perrin asking if Vel is going to find a husband. While we as viewers enjoy the joke that Vel is in fact a lesbian, it is worth noting that Perrin is acutely aware of the rising conservatism in the empire (via his own daughter, but also his pointed comments about the repercussions of Aldhani) and is image conscious. Vel is conspicuous in her lack of a marriage and embrace of her station in life. And Mon herself will say much the same when she says people have been asking about Vel, and that Vel needs to go play the spoiled rich girl. On the surface, Perrin's comment seems shallow and patriarchal, but we know he rejects Chandrillan marriage customs, and we've seen him viewing things with a political lens - so I think there is a possibility that he thinks Vel is putting her self at risk in the current political climate.

Perrin also informs Vel that Tay is present - he is keeping her in the loop, and letting her know a prominent Chandrillan is spending a lot of time with Mon. What happens if Vel is ambushed with that information on Chandrilla and doesn't have prior knowledge with which to respond? I think Perrin is managing image here, too.

Leida also describes Tay as "mum's old boyfriend". Mon asks if Perrin told her that, and Perrin stresses that he said "old". Leida is uncomfortable about Tay's presence. We don't know when Perrin told her, but it is fair for Leida to ask about a man who is very friendly with her mother, and who her mother has been talking to secretively during at least two major social functions - Watch Mon and Tay's body language in scenes without sound or subtitles; they could be flirting. So Perrin has answered Leida's question about her mother. That Mon feels uncomfortable seems odd. But our bias in this scene will lead us to assume that Mon's reaction is normal, when what is normal is her Daughter asking about her close friend, and her husband assuring said daughter. TradWife School

Perrin isn't in this scene. But Vel and Mon talk about Leida's turn. Vel asks if it's Perrin's influence. Mon says it isn't and that he is "strangely open-minded on this topic". It's also notable that Perrin was sad about him and Mon sharing a "traditional" - i.e. arranged - marriage. This is important for later. Car Ride 2

Mon throws Perrin under the bus. She accuses him of gambling (which we know he hasn't been) to cover her financial misadventures. This is the first time Mon says something that Perrin directly confronts or denies. It is also notable that Mon says Perrin promised not to gamble. This implies that Perrin has kept that promise, and that the accusation that he has betrayed his promise to her is something he cannot stand. In fact, the only time he ever raises his voice to Mon is when she accuses him of breaking his promise.

Notably, Perrin doesn't attack Mon. He doesn't accuse her of lying. He doesn't accuse her of making things up.

What does he say? "This is wrong, Mon. This is people trying to take you down by coming after me. You tell me who's saying this, and I'll tell you why."

His first reaction is to think of Mon's political situation and how he is a vulnerability to her objective. When Mon acts like he is lying, he starts the rational argument: "Where would I get the money?"

When Mon keeps acting like he has been gambling and loosing mountains of money, what does Perrin say? "Someone is lying to you." He is looking out for her. He knows he is innocent. He knows that Mon doesn't accuse him out of no-where. He "knows" someone is lying to Mon. Season 1 Coda

There are some other things that we know about Perrin:

He knows and has done business with Davo Sculdun (though it's implied to have been some time). This again shows that Perrin is prominently connected and could have a successful career of his own that he has chosen not to.

He is not shown to fight Mon when Mon is suddenly advocating for supporting Leida's TradWife ambitions. This is despite us knowing concretely that he doesn't approve of it. Instead he seems to follow Mon's lead when Mon decided to make a pact with Sculdun - someone that Perrin knows, which would include knowing Mon would never willingly make a deal with Sculden.

People focus on Mon's emotions in the Leida-Stekan scene. But look at Perrin. He looks like a thunderhead. He almost looks angry, in fact.

Season 1, in aggregate, has a lot of little threads which I think could point to Perrin being a loyal and politically intelligent husband whose biggest struggle is that Mon is freezing him out.

I also think, in light of his "academy firebrand" days as well as his comments about "saving the empire from the emperor" sparking that observation, he may have been sympathetic to the Separatists. While this seems unlikely on the surface, Mon directly says to Tay that "The Grand Vizier has infiltrated my Separatist Coalition meetings." - And she is notable for her support for separatist sympathizers. It is hard to believe that She and Perrin have fond memories of their youth if that youth wasn't somewhat aligned on issues like that.

I think there is a very real possibility that Perrin harbours Rebel sympathies, but feels unable to act on them - especially as he seems to criticize the Rebel attack on Aldhani because it had the effect of encouraging imperial overreach. And also because he seems to support Mon politically, and to try and build capital she can cash in for votes. Forced Weddings and a Funeral

I'm dealing with this as one, big event.

We open on Perrin schmoozing guests with Mon. When an issue with parking arrangements is mentioned, he correctly identifies the cause, and goes off to address it. We again are seeing Perrin act as Mon's soft-power counterpart.

We also see him talk to Davo Sculden about the Bride and Groom to be. He shows a far more caustic attitude about Leida than he is implied to have had the year prior. The implication the year prior is that Perrin dotes on Leida. But here, he is directly asking whether Stekan will be able to manage Leida's impulses. It is worth remembering that Perrin was part of an arranged marriage at the age of 15 - a year younger than Stekan. He is saying Stekan will either learn of be led. And it suggests that Perrin might have had his life kicked out from underneath him by Mon's ascent to the senate. But it also suggests that Perrin has deep wounds from it all. Again, this is deeper than him just being a spoiled upper-eschelon lay-about.

The next morning, Mon and Perrin are managing their ballroom for a dinner and a dance to come. In fact, Perrin is very closely watching Luthen and Kleya. When talking about the Chandi Merle, he says it's a bit gross - "probably worth more than the house" - as though it is a crudely extravagant display of wealth. This is also at odd with the idea that he's a party boy.

He and Mon share a cup of tea. A single cup. They seem more at ease. He says the previous night was a success. This is again a case of him being actively involved in managing major events for the family - all of which are inherently political events.

And then he says to Mon "You should tell your boyfriend to back off the nog." - notably, he isn't actually accusing Mon of infidelity. He isn't being angry at her. He was, in fact, very cordial a moment before. What he is doing is telling Mon what people are saying about her. He's being a little mean about it, but he's telling her that people think she is cheating with Tay. He is telling her that Tay is acting erratically - in fact that Tay is not just getting drunk but that he should know the customs well enough to not to be getting drunk from experience. That Tay's home life has fallen apart, and he seems to be spiraling. And interestingly, has one serious dig at Tay. Tied in to the moments in Season 1, this makes me think he has never suspected Mon to be cheating, but has haboured suspicions about Tay's reliability and his motivations, which Season 2 appear to justify. Perrin might actually be a good judge of character.

Perrin, with a much more serious and personal tone, say of Tay: "He was always weak". We will immediately see this proven true, as Tay folds under his life pressures and extorts Mon, leading to his assassination by Luthen (well, by Cinta on Luthen's orders).

Again, it is Perrin informing Mon of something that could sideswipe her. It's him managing her image and directly spelling out the implications of the circulating rumor. It's him identifying a serious potential problem and flagging it for her.

Next is the wedding hike, and we get a suggestion of how Sculdun and Perrin may know each other. Perrin says that the estate used to be closed as a private hunting reserve. That there used to be signs to keep the poachers out. Sculdun says he remembers the signs. Perrin says they didn't keep Sculdun out, and that his willingness to ignore such signs has suited his business well. It sounds like a criticism. Like Perrin dislikes Sculdun - again notable in light of his willingness (as far as we see) to let Mon push this wedding.

Next is Perrin's speech. He says that anxieties and sad tidings are an inevitability of life, but that we must look to find and cultivate the joy in life in the face of that - joys big or small. Interestingly, this parallels with Cinta's comments that she and Vel share "what's left" after the fight. It parallels the positive parts of the life we see Brasso, Bix, and Wilmon enjoying on the run, and particularly that Brasso and Wilmon are finding happiness in Mina Rau. He speaks of "hope" and of "trying". His speech, perhaps in the context of a child wedding, is giving voice to to themes that are important to the Rebellion, and which this series in particular embraces. It suggests that Perrin sees what is happening in the galaxy, and may feel helpless to do anything, including because his wife is one of the few voices trying to do good, and is always defeated.

His speech also addresses directly Leida and Stekan - Sculdun's is about how he acquired the Chandi Merle and had an adventure and is now giving this gift to the couple; it's an interesting contrast.

Finally, when Mon is having her absolute implosion and trying to dance through it as she spirals, Perrin correctly clocks what is happening and stops dancing when he notices her. He is clearly worried about her. Bringing It All Home

So, what am I saying? I think, when we look at Perrin, it is very easy to fall into a surface level assumption. And I think it is very possible that is who he is.

But I also think that his seemingly constant political awareness, support for Mon's political efforts even in the face of his own apparent sense of hopelessness, his desire for finding happiness and joy amidst the growing darkness, his apparent history of political activity, the fact he is well enough connected to have pursued a very illustrious personal career that he has forgone, his apparently keen observation, and his distaste for people like Sculdun and Tay who he seems to identify as self-serving could point to something much deeper which has been buried as a result of his marriage to Mon, and which she is not seeing because of her own flaws when it comes to her private life.

Perrin has been taken away from his homeworld, and lives a life in which he has very little autonomy. Despite that, he seems to be loyal to Mon, though not a total push over. He seems to have a degree of personal honour and ethics as the only things we see him speak about with meaningful emotion are Mon's accusation he broke his promise to her, Sculden's acquisition of the Chandi Merle, and Tay's apparent lack of personal moral fibre.

Maybe I'm being wishful. But especially now we see Tay - who was very likable in Season 1 - extorting Mon, it would feel thematically appropriate, and be the kind of twist I could see Gilroy & Co. pursuing, for Perrin to reveal himself as supporting the Rebellion or being unfavourable of the Empire.

#andor #andor season 2 #andor s2 #andor spoilers #perrin fertha

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misshoneyimhome · 3 months ago

Note

I don’t know if your requests are closed but I had this idea for a William x Reader. It’s quite long and specific, but do what you want with it. 😀

William and reader have been in the same circle of friends: they never were particularly close, but at some mutual friends and would see each other in social gatherings. Reader is from Canada, but studied or worked or has some friends from university in Sweden so she got in Willy’s friends circle. It’s been about 2 years they since they have met, and while they are not close, they have been some subtle flirting that has developed throughout that time.

However, during readers first time with her Swedish friends in St-Tropez, reader sees that William seems to have a special friend and accidentally hears them doing some stuff. While reader is still in denial for her little flirty feelings with William (she thinks he would never go for a girl like her), she feels a bit of jealousy. What happens after when her friends encourage her to bring back a beautiful french waiter for the night? What will William feel? Are they ever going to act on that little spark? Are William and reader going to end up entangled in sheets?

Sorry it’s sooooooooooo long!!!! But I just thought about that.

Oh, hello love! 😊 First off, never apologise for long requests—I love when there are details! You’re all so creative, and I’m absolutely here for it 💕

I really hope I managed to capture at least a bit of what you had in mind 🙈 And yes, William and the reader definitely end up in the sheets—it might not be explicitly in the story, but trust me, it happens 😉 (I know you guys can imagine the rest 😏)

Lots of love! ❤️

Tropes & warnings: William Nylander x reader, friends to lovers, jealousy, reader overhearing William with another woman, mild smut (William engaging in sexual activity with an unnamed female character)

Words count: 4.1K

➼｡ﾟ

Tangled in St-Tropez I William Nylander ✐[☆]

The air in St-Tropez was thick with the scent of salt and citrus, the kind of intoxicating blend that made everything feel like a dream—too vibrant, too surreal. The laughter of your Swedish friends echoed through the villa’s open-air patio, and you tried to focus on their conversation, the music, the clinking of glasses. Anything but him.

William Nylander.

For the past two years, he had been a constant presence in your life—not in a close, intimate way, but as a steady figure in your overlapping social circles. Your connection had been subtle, built on fleeting moments. A teasing smirk across a crowded room. The way his fingers would graze yours when he handed you a drink. The warmth in his voice when he greeted you. It was nothing and everything all at once.

You had met through mutual friends, the kind of introductions that happened naturally when worlds collided—your time spent in Sweden during university had woven your life into theirs. Late nights in Stockholm bars, lazy afternoons on frozen lakes, impromptu road trips across the country. Your bond with his friends had formed effortlessly, but with William, it had always been different. You had bonded over originating from Canada with a shared interest in Scandinavia. Yet, it felt like so much more. A slow burn. He was charming, easy-going in that distinctly Swedish way, but there was an edge to him, something untouchable beneath the relaxed facade.

He wasn’t the kind of guy who made grand gestures or chased after what he wanted in an obvious way. He let things unfold naturally, with that lazy, knowing confidence that made it impossible to tell what he was really thinking. He would tease, but never push. Flirt, but never cross a line. You had convinced yourself that it was nothing more than an unspoken understanding between you—harmless, weightless.

But then there were moments. Moments when you swore his eyes lingered a little too long, when his teasing turned softer, more deliberate. When his hand on your lower back felt less like a casual touch and more like a claim. It never amounted to anything tangible, but it was always there, simmering beneath the surface.

And now, here you were, in St-Tropez, in the golden haze of a Mediterranean summer, surrounded by friends, the warmth of the evening pressing against your skin—and for the first time, the weight of that unspoken something felt unbearable.

—

The villa in St-Tropez was meant to be a haven—a sun-drenched escape filled with laughter, late-night swims, and the kind of memories that would last long after summer faded. But tonight, as you lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, the only thing you could hear was them.

The rhythmic creak of the bed. The muffled sound of pleasure. Her voice—breathy, high-pitched, his name tumbling from her lips in a way that made your stomach twist painfully. You clenched your jaw, trying to will away the burning sensation creeping into your chest. It wasn’t your business. William Nylander was free to do whatever—or whoever—he wanted. You weren’t his girlfriend. You weren’t even that close.

And yet, you felt sick.

You squeezed your eyes shut, but the sounds only seemed to intensify, wrapping around you like a vice. You needed to get out of there. Grabbing a hoodie, you slipped out of your room and padded barefoot through the quiet villa, stepping onto the terrace. The salty night air filled your lungs as you tried to breathe through the ache sitting heavy in your chest.

As morning came, the villa was already buzzing by the time you made it to the kitchen, the smell of coffee and sunscreen mixing in the warm air. The soft hum of conversation filled the space, friends draped lazily over the patio furniture, some nursing hangovers, others already in their swimsuits, ready to head down to the beach. The clinking of spoons against ceramic mugs and the occasional pop of a champagne bottle set the rhythm of the slow, sun-drenched morning.

And then there was William.

He stood by the counter, pouring himself a coffee, looking as effortlessly put together as ever. His damp hair curled slightly at the ends, droplets of water still clinging to his tanned skin. He wore nothing but a pair of navy swim shorts, slung low on his hips, his toned frame on full display. Sunlight filtered through the large glass doors, casting a golden glow over him, highlighting every muscle, every contour. He looked up briefly, his blue eyes locking onto yours for a split second, before he turned away, taking a slow sip of his coffee as if nothing had happened last night. As if you hadn’t spent the night lying awake, listening to him with someone else.

You swallowed hard, fingers tightening around the handle of your mug as you forced a smile.

It doesn’t matter. He doesn’t matter.

But when you turned, catching your reflection in the glass of the patio door, you knew you weren’t fooling anyone.

—

It was no secret St-Tropez came alive at night, the streets pulsating with music and laughter spilling from open-air bars. The warm breeze carried the scent of salt and wine through the cobblestone alleys, and under the neon glow of the streetlights, the city felt like a fever dream.

You had let your friends drag you out, determined to lose yourself in the energy of the evening, to drown out the thoughts lingering in the back of your mind. And for a while, it was working—especially with the way the French waiter had been lavishing you with attention.

He was smooth, confident in that distinctly Parisian way, his dark eyes holding a glint of mischief as he leaned in closer. His fingers brushed yours as he refilled your glass, his lips curving into a smirk that sent warmth curling through you.

“You have a beautiful smile,” he murmured, his accent thick, seductive.

You felt the corners of your lips twitch, your body reacting to the attention, to the way his gaze lingered just a little too long. You weren’t naive—you knew exactly what this was. And maybe, just for tonight, you didn’t care.

And across the bar, William saw everything.

His gaze lingered on you, laughter still spilling from your lips as you leaned into the waiter, your hand lightly grazing his arm. You looked relaxed, glowing in the soft glow of the lights, your smile effortless. And William hated it.

He didn’t even know why it bothered him so much. Maybe it was the way your laughter rang out, too light, too carefree, as if he didn’t exist. Maybe it was how effortlessly you seemed to enjoy yourself, wrapped up in someone else’s attention. Maybe it was because, deep down, he knew he had no right to be irritated.

Not when he had just spent last night with someone else in his bed.

But even that hadn’t felt right. It had been a momentary escape, a way to silence the thoughts he wasn’t ready to face. Because the truth was, you weren’t just another fleeting distraction. You were different. Kind, effortlessly funny, and someone he found himself wanting to impress—something that wasn’t typical for him. He never concerned himself with how others perceived him, but with you, it was different. Around you, he found himself wanting to be better, to show you a side of him that he rarely revealed.

You weren’t close friends, yet he felt like he understood you in a way that went beyond surface-level interactions. He noticed the little things—the way your laughter could light up a room, how your dry wit always managed to catch him off guard. Even when you weren’t trying, you had this way of pulling him in, making him pay attention. But whatever existed between you had always remained unspoken, never crossing the threshold into something more. Instead, you existed in a delicate balance, stealing glances when no one was looking, skirting around something neither of you dared to acknowledge.

His jaw tightened as he forced himself to look away, shoving his hands into his pockets as he re-joined his group’s conversation. He wasn’t jealous—at least, that’s what he kept telling himself.

“You should take him with you home,” Klara murmured in your ear, nudging you playfully.

You hesitated, your eyes flickering back toward William for a second.

He was still watching, but the second your gaze met his, he looked away, tilting his head back to down the rest of his drink in one go. A muscle in his jaw ticked, his fingers drumming against the glass as if he was resisting the urge to react.

Maybe Klara was right.

Maybe it was time William knew what it felt like to be on the other side.

—

The moment William stepped out of his room, he heard the unmistakable sound of another door clicking open down the hall. His head turned instinctively, his eyes narrowing as he caught sight of the French waiter emerging from your room, shoes in hand, his dark hair slightly dishevelled. He moved with a lazy confidence, completely unaware of the way William’s entire body tensed at the sight of him.

Something hot and unwelcome curled in William’s stomach—something dangerously close to jealousy, though he didn’t quite realise it. He clenched his jaw, exhaling slowly through his nose as the waiter glanced up, offering him a polite nod before strolling toward the front of the villa.

William barely nodded back, barely even breathed as his fingers twitched at his sides, his entire body wired with something he couldn’t name. The urge to stop the guy, to say something, was almost overwhelming. Instead, he forced himself to move, his steps stiff as he stalked past the hallway without a word.

But the bitter taste lingered. And for the first time in a long time, William felt something he didn’t quite recognise.

Regret.

He needed to get out, to take the dogs out for a walk.

The night had been good. Exactly what you had needed. The waiter had been charming, attentive, easy in a way that made it simple to forget everything else. And yet, as you lay there in your bed, staring at the ceiling of your villa bedroom, a hollow feeling settled deep in your chest.

It should’ve been enough. It was enough.

So why did it feel like something was still missing?

By the time you exited your room, you noticed you were awake before everyone else—or so you thought. So, you made your way to the kitchen to pour yourself a cup of coffee, the thought of a strong brew feeling like a necessity. The comforting aroma filled the air as you wrapped your fingers around the warm mug before stepping out onto the terrace and settling into one of the lounge chairs.

The air was crisp, a gentle warmth teasing the promise of the midday sun. A light breeze whispered through the palm trees, and you savoured the silence—the contrast from the loud music and chaotic laughter of last night’s events was almost jarring.

Closing your eyes, you let yourself sink into the moment, willing your mind to quiet. Just for a second, you let yourself disappear into the stillness, exhaling deeply.

That was until you heard footsteps from behind.

“God morgon,” William’s Swedish voice sounded.

Your body stiffened slightly at the sound of his voice. You forced yourself to take another slow sip of your coffee before turning your head to look at him. He stood there, hands in the pockets of his loose shorts, his white tank top clinging to his muscular chest. He looked relaxed, but there was something unreadable in his gaze as he watched you.

“God morgon,” you replied, keeping your voice even.

He moved closer, leaning against the railing of the terrace as his eyes flickered to the ocean in the distance. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the quiet settling between you like an unspoken conversation.

“You’re up early,” he noted, finally breaking the silence.

You let out a soft hum, glancing at him over the rim of your mug. “Could say the same about you.”

A small smirk tugged at his lips. “Didn’t sleep much.”

You nodded, eyes shifting away as you ran your fingers along the rim of your mug. “Yeah, me neither.”

“Figured…” He exhaled, the sound barely audible over the gentle rustling of palm leaves. “So… did you have fun last night?”

You blinked, glancing at him again, studying the way he was watching you. There was something different about his expression—like he was searching for something in your answer.

“Yeah, I did,” you admitted.

William nodded, glancing away for a moment before slowly making his way to sit across from you on the other sofa. His movements were casual, but there was a slight tension in his shoulders, a hesitance in the way he settled in. He leaned back, his fingers absentmindedly tracing the pattern on the cushion beside him.

“Seemed like… you had… good company?” His voice was light, but there was something about the way he said it—like he was testing the waters, carefully gauging your reaction.

You tilted your head slightly, watching him. “He was nice. Sweet, actually.”

William gave a slow nod, his lips pressing into a thin line. “Right.”

You narrowed your eyes slightly. “Why do you ask?”

He hesitated for just a fraction of a second, then shrugged. “Just making conversation.”

You weren’t sure why, but something about his demeanour made you push. “Seemed like you’ve had… quite the company as well here?”

William’s jaw twitched slightly, but he kept his expression carefully neutral. He exhaled through his nose, his fingers stilling against the fabric of the cushion. “Yeah,” he admitted after a pause. “Something like that.”

You nodded, watching him closely. “Must’ve been a great time, then.”

He lifted his gaze back to yours, something flickering in his blue eyes—something unreadable. “I guess.”

You arched a brow. “You guess? I mean… sounded like a very great time to others.” The words carried more weight than you had intended, the sharp edge unmistakable. The way William’s eyes darkened at your remark, the sudden tension in his posture—it was clear you had struck a nerve.

His expression shifted, a flicker of something unspoken crossing his features. “What’s that supposed to mean?” His voice was lower now, more controlled. “You were listening in on us?”

You sucked in a breath, heart pounding slightly at the way his intensity had shifted. “Well, no. But walls are pretty thin here… and she just wasn’t exactly… silent.”

William’s lips parted slightly, realisation dawning on him as the pieces fell into place. His throat bobbed as he swallowed, his fingers pressing harder against the cushion as if trying to ground himself.

“Right,” he finally muttered, glancing away for a brief moment. But the tension remained, thick and suffocating.

Before either of you could say another word, the sound of footsteps echoed from the kitchen. More friends were beginning to wake, filling the villa with life again. The conversation between you and William had no choice but to fade into the background, unresolved.

And throughout the day, you and William seemed to move in parallel, never quite crossing paths yet never straying too far. It wasn’t a conscious effort, but an unspoken agreement, a mutual instinct to avoid stepping into the grey area of words left unsaid.

Until evening arrived.

The sun had begun its descent, painting the sky in warm hues of amber and pink. The villa’s patio had become a gathering place, filled with the soft hum of conversation and clinking glasses. The salty breeze carried the remnants of the day’s heat, making the air feel both heavy and intoxicatingly serene.

You sat on one of the loungers, a drink in hand, watching the sky darken as the first stars flickered into view. Lost in thought, you barely noticed William until he settled into the seat beside you, his presence unmistakable even before he spoke.

For a moment, he said nothing. The quiet stretched, comfortable in its weight, before he finally broke it.

“Not a fan of the party?” he murmured, his voice softer now, lacking its usual teasing edge.

You turned to him, tilting your head slightly. “Just enjoying the view.”

A smirk ghosted across his lips, barely there but enough to be noticed. “Yeah. Me too.”

Something in the way he said it sent a shiver down your spine, a quiet intensity laced in his tone. You swallowed, shifting your gaze back toward the horizon, though the moment lingered between you, heavy and unspoken.

The voices around you faded into background noise as the tension settled, thick and undeniable. William shifted beside you, his knee brushing against yours briefly before he pulled away just enough to make it seem unintentional.

In that very moment, you felt something, and you knew exactly what it was.

You were in love. With William fucking Nylander.

It wasn’t just some fleeting infatuation, some harmless crush that would disappear with time. No, this was deeper, something raw and undeniable, and you almost hated yourself for it.

The realisation hit you like a wave, knocking the air from your lungs, making the weight of the moment even heavier. But before you could fully process it, the tension between you was abruptly shattered by a voice—one that sent a cold jolt through your body.

“Hey babe!”

It was her. One of the girls from the group, from the other night.

She was practically glowing as she approached, her smile wide with excitement, her body language filled with ease—so comfortable in her place in his lap. William, ever the gentleman, greeted her in return. Not with the same enthusiasm, but enough to acknowledge her presence, enough for her to lean in and wrap her arms around him, pressing a light kiss against his cheek.

The nausea hit instantly.

Your stomach twisted, your heart lodged somewhere between your ribs and throat, making it impossible to breathe properly. You needed to get out of there. Now.

You barely registered the others joining the scene, the way the atmosphere around you shifted into something livelier, louder. It didn’t matter. None of it did. The only thing you knew was that you couldn’t sit there and watch this unfold any longer.

Klara offered an empathetic smile as she sat down next to you, her eyes flickering with silent understanding. She didn’t press, didn’t ask, just her presence alone offering quiet solidarity. But this time, there was no waiter to turn to, no easy escape route disguised as flirtation.

“Excuse me,” you murmured, voice barely above a whisper. “I need to go vomit…”

You stood abruptly, ignoring the curious glances, the slight furrow in William’s brow as he watched you walk away. You didn’t wait for anyone to ask if you were okay. You just left, moving quickly, before the lump in your throat turned into something worse.

At first, you didn’t hear anything besides the noise inside your head as you made your way through the villa, away from the small, casual party. But suddenly, a hand grabbed your wrist, stopping you in your tracks, and you were forced to turn around to face him—William.

“Hey…” he breathed out, catching his breath from following you. His grip was firm yet gentle, his blue eyes scanning your face with concern. “You okay?” he asked, his voice softer now.

You avoided his gaze. You wanted to speak, to say the right thing, to brush it off like you always had. To remain cool and composed, to push the feelings back down where they belonged. But for the first time, you couldn’t. You just couldn’t pretend.

“No… Willy… I’m not okay,” you admitted softly, your voice barely above a whisper. You tried to keep the moment from turning dramatic, not wanting to act like some lovesick teenager in a rom-com. You took a shaky breath, forcing yourself to meet his gaze. “I’m… I’m sorry, I don’t think I can… I need some space.”

You tried to step away, but William didn’t let go. His fingers tightened slightly around your wrist, grounding you. “Y/N… what’s going on?”

William Nylander wasn’t the type of guy to wear his heart on his sleeve, but when it came to the people he cared about, truly cared about, he wouldn’t just stand by and let them walk away without understanding why.

“I—” you struggled, the words tangling on your tongue as you let out a light laugh. “I think I’m in love with you… and I know it’s completely nuts because I know you don’t… I mean, you like girls like her, and I’m nothing like that. I’m just me…”

The floodgates had opened, and no matter how much you wanted to keep everything bottled up, the words kept spilling out. You ran your hand through your hair. “Gosh, why is this so hard? I hate myself for this—I feel so silly. You’re just… being you. And seeing you with her just made me realise…” You took another breath, trying to steady yourself, but the emotions were too overwhelming. “I’m so happy for you, Willy, really. It’s just… I need to get over this, to get over you, before I can even figure out how to be around you again. It’s all just too much for me… I’m so sorry.”

You looked away, blinking rapidly to keep the tears from slipping down your cheeks. The last thing you wanted was to make a fool of yourself in front of him. But William didn’t say anything right away. He just stood there, his expression unreadable, his grip still firm on your wrist as if letting go would mean losing you entirely.

You let out a deep breath, shaking your head lightly as you tried to ground yourself. “Sorry… I’m… I’ll just…” You were about to step away, but you couldn’t. Something in the way he was holding onto you kept you rooted to the spot.

And then, before you could process it, William pulled you into him, his face coming closer to yours than it had ever been before. And then, his lips met yours.

Shocked, you froze for a brief second, your mind struggling to catch up with what was happening. But then, instinctively, you leaned into the kiss.

It was soft, gentle at first—like he was afraid to push too far. His lips moved against yours with an aching tenderness, his hand letting go of your wrist before sliding to your lower back, pulling you closer as if he never wanted to let go. Your fingers clutched at his t-shirt before trailing up to the nape of his neck, holding onto him like he was the only solid thing in a spinning world.

The kiss deepened, slow and deliberate, as if you were both trying to make sense of this moment—this shift that had been simmering beneath the surface for so long.

It felt like time had stopped, stretching into something infinite, but when you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless. Your foreheads nearly touched, your eyes searching his for some kind of explanation, reassurance—anything to make sense of what just happened.

A quiet moment hung between you, heavy with unspoken words, until finally, a slow smile spread across William’s lips. “I don’t want you to get over me…”

You let out a soft chuckle, a breathy exhale of relief mixed with something deeper, something exhilarating. “Yeah? I don’t want to get over you either…”

And then, as if pulled by an invisible force, you both leaned in again, this kiss deeper, more desperate. The slow hesitation from before melted away, replaced by something undeniable, something raw. His hands slid along your jaw, fingers threading into your hair as he tilted your head, deepening the kiss with an intensity that made your stomach flip. You could feel the restrained urgency in the way his lips moved against yours, in the way his hands gripped your neck, as if trying to make up for all the time wasted in uncertainty.

The moment William kissed you, he knew.

He had been slow to realise his feelings for you—always skirting around them, always brushing off the weight of what he felt with a casual joke or a teasing smirk. But the moment he saw you with that French waiter, something inside him had shifted. The jealousy had been immediate, sharp, but it wasn’t until your confession that everything clicked into place.

No one else had ever mattered the way you did.

And in this moment, he didn’t need another second to be sure of what he wanted. You. Only you.

#my asks #wn88 imagine #william nylander imagine #william nylander x reader #toronto maple leafs imagine #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine

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amphitriteswife · 5 months ago

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Poseidon NSFW hc’s

Note: never thought that I’d be doing this istg. Hc is open for interpretation.

Warning: poseidon might be ooc

Tag: @idrinkmatchaonly @mizz-sea-nymph @swallowtail-lotus

🩵 surprisingly vocal? He isn’t over the top, but he’s not silent either. He’s more of a grunter than anything. There isn’t a lot of moan, mainly when he’s close to cumming. Also a heavy breather, not to the point that he’s full on panting like a dog but more that he takes a moment if he’s really REALLY getting into it.

🩵 If you actually have sex with poseidon there are two categories: 1 his wife/ partner and 2 everything else. He can be passionate, but only if he wants to. If you’re his partner it would be more about the moment and emotions and feelings ect. If he had any that is. If you’re everything else he’s just there: he would be like ‘guess we fucking ig…’ he doesn’t seem exited despite his dick being online. If it’s not up to his standard he might dip half way. Yes he has no problem leaving you mid sex. Not his problem anymore. But he would be more attentive if he’s your partner.

🩵 is both into female x male and male x male. It’s my own mythology based hc. But i think it’s common knowledge that Poseidon is bisexual. Does this mean that he takes a cock up his butt? Not always. Does this mean he’s into pegging? Hell yes. When it comes to male on male he’s very much into power play. Mainly because he is well, the god of the sea. And yes he takes a rather dominant role. With everyone unless you’re someone he cares for. He might also be into threesomes: doesn’t matter if the other person is male or female. Might participate in sword fighting if you know what i mean

🩵 well groomed. He’s blonde so most of the time you don’t really see the hair on his body anyways. He naturally isn’t very hairy but he usually keeps it clean shaved down there. If for example he really didn’t have much time, or he’s under much pressure he might forget to clean shave and you’ll see hints of blonde hair. It’s never bushy though and he makes it a point if he noticed that he’s neglecting himself to shave it all off. Prefers waxing with armpits, but shaves down there since it’s more sensitive

🩵 we’re going to take a look in his pants: rather pale cock. Kinda pinkish near the tip. Slightly curved upward. Veiny but not too veiny, maybe a big vein going from the shaft to the middle and some smaller veins along side it. Tip color #F2B8C6. It’s cut too btw. Around 15 cm’s and he’s proud of it. Well he doesn’t pre-cum a lot but when he does it’s usually on the leaking side

🩵 isn’t necessary vanilla. It truly depends on who you are to him. If you’re a rather intimate partner it will take some time and a level of trusts. Especially things that will make him seem less dominant or masculine. He prefers to be on the receiving end of the relationship than the giving. For example pegging or just over all taking a more sub like position already makes Poseidon a little wary, but he trust you and thinks its nice to be taken care of from time to time so he does actually engage in it. Just don’t talk about it to others, partially because he doesn’t want people to view him as a sub but mostly because he doesn’t want anyone to be involved with what he does in the sheets or his personal life.

🩵 If Poseidon cums it’s a rather decent amount. It had no special features, not necessarily on the creamy side not on the more liquid side. Perfectly balanced as all gods should be (his words not mine). Poseidon doesn’t necessarily have a preference where he cums (S/O). It usually depends on his partner. If it’s a male partner he prefers to have them cum instead as a sign that he can make them feel that way, he himself wouldn’t actually care much about his own release. But if his partner was female and not his SO he would cum outside (to prevent babies)

🩵 Poseidon is more of a traditional sex person. Oral is fine but he doesn’t see it as sex itself, more just an act of pleasure. Sex for him can either be out of lust and interest, with someone he doesn’t know and is easy to get or someone who he thinks seems interesting to pursue but after they have sex it’s nothing more. Or it is to he intimate with someone he feels a deep connection to. Having sex with him as an intimate partner will take a little while though. With an intimate person he has more traditional sex than oral, he doesn’t mind it all though if you want it but it’s to kind of let you know that he cares. With the random’s he’d get a blowjob or something. No he’s not performing oral on you. You’re doing it on him. Period.

🩵 Something about Poseidon that he wouldn’t admit is that he likes erotic shows. No it’s not watching two people going at it or attending orgies. He likes dancers and music, think more about belly dancers or over all something erotic with hints of dance. He likes lap dances too. He will not touch you unless he absolutely takes an interest in you (which doesn’t happen often at all) he prefers to actually see a show and watch than fuck most of the time.

🩵 he doesn’t believe in toys. At least not when he’s on action. He doesn’t really mind not care for it if you use them to masturbate, that’s up to you. But he does NOT want them when he’s having sex with you. Not only does he see it as sign of disrespect, he will stop no matter what you say or do. He thinks that involving toys with the act means that you don’t think he’s enough to satisfy you. He’ll have a scowl on his face and narrows his eyes before pulling away from you and walking away. Poseidon isn’t a PDA person anyway so he’ll be fine if he doesn’t have sex even though he’s hard.

🩵 Poseidon doesn’t masturbate often. It’s truly once in a red moon that he does it. Most assume he doesn’t do it all. He has a low sex drive and over all doesn’t see sex as some hobby unlike Zeus. If he does for some reason feel horny and actually doesn’t choose the option to pursue a one night stand or he has a partner and they’re not available, then yes he might masturbate. It’s nothing out of the ordinary, just him pleasuring himself with his hand. He would probably be in bed or his office, both are with the door locked. He doesn’t want anyone to see nor interrupt his time. If you knock expect him to not respond.

🩵 One of Poseidon’s turn on’s is Jewelry. Long, small, thick, thin, gold, silver, pearls, coper, stones, beads, diamonds, gems, ect. He likes all of them, he’s not materialistic but he appreciates a nice set of jewelry on his partner. He also doesn’t really mind what type of jewelry it is: bracelets, body chains, piercings, necklaces, waistbands, headpieces, ankle bracelets, earrings, rings, toe rings. As long as you look sexy and pretty. Yes both men and women. He’s a simple man in that regard. Make up is also fine. Seeing you on his bed wrapped in the silky sheets, your body glistening in the under the dim light. Some of the jewelry hugging you tightly yet some hing loose onto your body. It drives him crazy, but he won’t admit it though.

That was all🥶🔥

#ror #shuumatsu no valkyrie #record of ragnarok #snv #snv poseidon #ror poseidon #poseidon #ror poseidon x reader #snv poseidon x reader #ror headcanons #snv headcanons #poseidon snv x reader #record of ragnarok poseidon

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max1461 · 7 days ago

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So here's the thing, right. My position on the US/China is kind of like my position on Israel/Palestine, or, for an opposite-valence example, my opinion on liberal market economies vs. central planning. There is an obvious right answer that I think anyone looking at the facts without factional allegiance would come to, not "this is a difficult problem but here's my opinion" (which is how I feel about a lot of political issues), but "there is an unambiguously correct broad-strokes answer, although of course there's plenty of room for disagreement on specifics".

To run through these:

1. The US and China are both Great Powers working principally in their own national interests, neither should be understood even remotely as "the good guys". Both have acted and continue to act belligerently on the international stage, but the US's track record in this domain is much, much worse. Both engage in mass surveillance and some degree of domestic human rights abuses, but China's track record in this domain is much, much worse. The rise of China means the rise of hundreds of millions of people out of deep poverty, and this is unambiguously something to be celebrated, even if the Chinese government is plenty worthy of criticism. Everyone should be desirous of peace and cooperation between these two countries as greatly as possible.

2. Israel/Palestine, well, I've already made a recent post about that I don't want to repeat myself here. I'll just find it and quote it:

Israel is an apartheid state, brought the Gaza conflict on themselves, and while this doesn't remotely excuse Hamas' targeting of civilians on Oct. 7th or make their Islamist stance sympathetic, it does leave the ball basically wholly in Israel's court to end this conflict and develop some kind of solution (one-state, two-state, etc.) in which the status quo of apartheid no longer obtains.

I would also add that Israel is, if not committing a genocide, certainly attempting to commit one in Gaza, that Israel was founded on a genocidal war in the form of the Nakba, and that flirtation with the idea of finishing the job has always been a major part of Israeli political discourse. There is just no way to be all three of (1) a supporter of Israel, (2) actually informed about this issue, and (3) a decent human being. Being a supporter of Israel in 2025 is, yes, quite comparable to being a supporter of Nazi Germany in the 1930s.

3. Liberal market economies are flawed in many ways, but central planning is flawed in very many more. Every humanistic critique of capitalism, critiques of private-ownership-as-power-structure, apply equally or more strongly to centrally planned economies as they have been instantiated in Marxist-Leninist states. It's possible some of these critiques would apply less to a centrally planned economy in a genuinely democratic state, but at least so far a Marxist-Leninist state has never implemented meaningful democracy as more than a brief experiment, and liberal states have implemented only poor simulacra of meaningful democracy. This is getting a bit tangential to the economic issue... In addition, many of the purely economic critiques levied by liberals at central planning—that centrally planned economies produce less wealth and allocate it less it well—are indeed valid. This doesn't absolve market economies of their flaws, it's extremely worthwhile to work towards some better alternative, but central planning is not it.

Anyway, while I would place myself firmly on the pro-Palestinian side of the Israel-Palestine conflict, on both (1) and (3) I consider myself something of a centrist. As much as I don't think central planning is the answer, I am certainly no partisan of markets. As for what I am a partisan of, well, I've made lots of posts about that.

#society

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sapphosclosefriend · 1 year ago

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- Money, Power, Glory pt 3 -

Pairing: CEO! Silverfox! Natasha Romanoff x Escort! Fem! Reader

Genre: suggestive, maybe even a little fluffy

Summary: the way you both feel for each other seems to change a little and, after once again staying over at her place, she makes a way too appealing proposition. Part 1 Part 2 Part 4

Word count: 2.7k

Warnings: top! Natasha x bottom! R, Natasha has a penis, big age gap (N =56, R=24), making out, suggestive themes, extremely brief oral (R receiving).

A/N: this story contains mature themes so anyone who isn’t 18+ DNI. Chapter 4 is already in the works and it will be a bit deeper. Let's not talk about how the Christmas special is going because it's currently not going…anyway. Again, thanks to @supercorpdanbeau and @rt--link ♡ As usual, likes, reblogs and comments are very appreciated! Enjoy ♡

Masterlist

Isn't it crazy how fast time passes? Well, it certainly was to you. You just couldn’t believe it had already been six whole months since your first encounter with Natasha and saying that your life went upside down thanks to her was an understatement.

On one hand it felt as if it hadn't been a day since the first time you'd stepped into her elegant home, but maybe that was only because of just how much time you'd been spending with her. Hours soon turned into evenings, which turned into nights, days and even whole weekends. She definitely seemed to like the thought of having you always ready for her to enjoy and, having the financial means to do so, asking you to spend prolonged periods of time with her, sometimes not even engaging in sexual acts for some parts of your encounters, slowly started becoming the norm. Of course she would've gladly booked you even just to watch you sip on a drink and read a book in a bikini by the pool at her beach house while she was stuck on a stupid work call, but she knew that even if her intentions were ever to be pure, they would've immediately taken a turn once she'd be in your presence. You wouldn't have been opposed to the idea either, after all Natasha's presence was slowly becoming something you simply didn't like being without and spending more and more time with her, even without doing anything at all, only kept sounding more appealing as time went on.

You soon realized that you'd just added a regular to your customers list, despite the older woman never clearly stating so. In fact, she seemed to be quite adamant in declaring that your meetings were strictly a means for her to destress only once she needed to. Maybe she was truthful and her life, which consisted pretty much only of her job, was, after all, more stressful than you thought. But something in you was telling you that it wasn't completely true. If that something was just a hopeful part of you talking, you didn't know.

What you did know pretty soon, though, was that she wasn't going to be any regular client, you just knew something different was going to happen with her, you could feel it in you, how different playfully flirting with her was, how real your nervous and timid stance was, how real your orgasms were, how real your eagerness at answering her calls was, how you found yourself thinking less and less about the money that came with her. She was as intoxicating as the most expensive top shelf liquor there was, of which she probably owned at least one bottle, and you didn't think you could've ever been more addicted to her. Of course, no matter what, her bottomless fortune was still incredibly appealing to you. How could it not be? After all, beautiful things require a lot of assets and you've always liked beautiful things, clothes, shoes, jewelry, trips, Natasha. Thankfully, your job and your clients' "generosity" had done wonders over the years at satisfying your cravings, not just through their payments, but with little gifts and rewards here and there. You weren't a sugar baby, not at all, but those kinds of people were power addicts and what better way to assert your dominance than to show off your American Express to a pretty girl and then fuck her brains out, or at least try.

It had happened again and you had spent yet another night over at Natasha's house and the more time that passed, the more you convinced yourself that she really didn't need you to placate her anger anymore. You knew by then what she was like when she needed to unload some stress and what you had been seeing recently just wasn't it. It wasn't necessarily a bad thing, she was still perfectly able to leave you limp on the bed even without being rough at all, but it was interesting how she apparently didn't want to admit that maybe she just liked to have fun together simply because.

The ache you felt through your whole body as soon as you woke up in her unfortunately empty bed was clear proof of just how easy it was for the older woman to completely wreck you without even trying. You would've gladly spent the entire day under the warm, soft covers that smelled like her until she came back home late at night, but your rationality slowly pushed your body out of the small piece of heaven you had no interest in leaving. Getting out of her illegally comfortable bed and readying yourself after such a night ended up being way harder than you expected, but you were finally able to join her in the kitchen surprisingly early, even though you were still only wearing a button down shirt, making you not truly ready but still giving you some more time to spend together before she had to go to work and you had to go back home. Your usual bad morning mood was immediately lifted as you were greeted by the back of her tall, built frame wearing perfectly tailored pants and a shirt tucked in that hugged her arms in the most delicious way possible, giving you a perfect view of her upper body clad only by a thin layer of expensive cotton thanks to the suit jacket left over the back of a chair. Maybe you could've gotten used to such beautiful sights blessing your eyes first thing in the morning.

She inexplicably looked effortlessly hot even as she simply blowed a silver strand of hair out of her face, wiped her hands on a dishcloth, that she then laid over her shoulder, and rolled up her sleeves, showing off the watch that was probably worth at least two years of your apartment rent and her slender, veiny hands. She simply looked otherworldly and you couldn't hold yourself from silently pressing your front against her back and untucking her shirt to let your hands rest on her bare stomach, hearing her lowly chuckle at your usual morning clinginess. You stayed silent for a little while, simply soaking in her presence, when you suddenly realized what you'd just walked in on.

"You know how to turn on a stove?"

You would've expected an unimpressed look if she was facing you, but her fake laugh was basically the equivalent to that.

"Ha ha. You know, I haven't always had private chefs."

You knew, of course you did, you were just messing with her and she secretly loved it.

"Did you send them away?"

"No, they're still here, in case I mess this up."

"Is the Natasha Romanoff capable of messing up something like scrambled eggs?"

She didn’t answer your question, no quick remark, no teasing, which told you that yes, she was absolutely capable of messing them up. You didn't press her, though, you were technically still on duty, even though you had a tendency of forgetting it while you were with her, and the first thing you always wanted to do was make sure to avoid at all costs any possible chance of a negative outcome. It may have sounded stupid, but those people were paying you a whole lot of money to have a good time and if something so meaningless such as talking about not being able to cook scrambled eggs could've led them to be in a bad mood then it simply wasn't a topic worthy enough, not even for friendly banter.

"Well, you definitely didn't mess it up last night…my legs are so sore and I need to be at the gym in an hour!"

Your whining as you held onto her tighter amused her, as flashes from the night before, with your arms around her and your nails on her back, made her immediately turn off the stove to turn around and finally kiss you for the first time that day, savoring your content hum at the feeling of her plump lips languidly moving against your own. You had a strange effect on her, like no other woman before, and she could barely wrap her head around it. Any time she touched you in any way, any time she talked to you, any time she was in your presence, her heart seemed to do a leap in her chest, giving her a sense of euphoria she usually felt only after a successful day at work. You were younger than her, so much younger, 32 years younger to be exact, but you strangely felt like the only woman she'd ever been with who could really be at her level. She knew she had to have you for as long as she could and you didn't seem to be too much against the idea, as you started to make more and more time out of your schedule to be with her whenever she wanted, a privilege none of your other clients ever had. Of course your agent was very happy with the new change, but she, like everybody else, only thought of it as a way for you to make even more money, Natasha was the wealthiest of your clients after all. Deep down you knew, though, that it wasn't the only reason why you kept spending more and more time with her. You genuinely liked her and the endless hours you devoted to her were making you the happiest you'd been in a while.

"I'm going to Cuba for work for the weekend, there's a free seat on my plane."

You found yourself whining and chasing after her lips as she broke the kiss to speak, but soon grew intrigued by her proposition, knowing how little work her weekend work trips actually had, usually only one or two phone calls while you sucked her off while still in bed.

"You're asking for a bit too much on such a short notice now, Ms Romanoff."

You were teasing her, making her beg for you to go, even though you knew you would have agreed way before she had to resort to begging, but that didn't mean that there wasn't some truth in your words. Given the amount of time you were spending with Natasha you often had to occupy your weekends with your other clients, who now had to book their meetings with much more notice to guarantee themselves a spot with you. You'd even lost Wanda Maximoff, one of your first ever customers, because you "even dared suggest" to move your weekly meetups from Friday to Saturday, but, as much as it pained you after everything you'd done for her for literal years, you knew that Natasha's money would've still been way more than what you needed to survive.

"I'm offering you a weekend of relaxing, squandering and fucking in Cuba, doesn't sound too bad to me."

It did not sound bad at all, it sounded like the best time you could've ever had and it pained you knowing that you had to give it up to instead spend your weekend pretending to laugh and acting like you'd never cum harder in your life with some "limp dick", as Natasha liked to call your other customers.

"Well, I have clients eagerly waiting for me on those days."

Even as you spoke those words surely, there was still a little voice in the back of your head that kept chanting over and over for you to fuck it, leave everything behind and hop on her yacht to go wherever the hell the woman you l-liked wanted you to go. It didn't happen every single time, you eventually giving in, but way more than you'd like to admit and once again you could hear that voice getting closer and closer, making it impossibly hard for you to resist her temptation, even more so at the sight of her beautiful eyes slightly darkened by hidden jealousy.

"If you blow me on my way to work I'll give you more money than all of those limp dicks together will over the fucking weekend…and of course I'll pay you for Saturday and Sunday."

Why did she have to say something like that? Why did she have to speak to you in that way, with her lips almost touching yours and her hands possessively grabbing your waist and pressing you flush against her front, unknowingly making you feel her bulge so damn well. Of course your slight shiver didn't go unnoticed by her and seeing her pupils dilate as she eyed your lips and the top of your chest only made your breathing all the more shaky as your mind finally settled on the only important person to you. You were going with her, fuck everybody, no amount of money would've been worth more than her right now.

"Now I'd be dumb if I turned down such a tempting proposal."

Of course she didn't need to know just how eager you really were and how you would've screamed YES from the tallest building in the city, not only would it have inflated her ego even more but, more importantly, she would've known just how bad you really had it for her.

"Hmm and you're not dumb, right? No, you're the smartest whore in New York City."

If only she knew how hard you would've slapped anyone else for calling you that, but coming from her only made the name sound like the best compliment you could've ever received.

Her tense expression seemed to have relaxed in the slightest at the confirmation that she was your choice, that maybe at least a part of you genuinely liked her enough that you were willing to cancel on your other customers at the last minute only for her. And just like that, she was hit by it all again, that deep need to have you, carnally and platonically. She once again felt almost overcome by it and could no longer keep herself from taking you again, you were like her own drug and you couldn't keep her from kissing you with so much passion and need that you felt like you would've never been able to stay away from her. God, how blissful it felt, how much did she get off of the power she had over you. She could've easily spent the rest of her life savoring all and every little part of you. You consumed her too much and she always felt like she needed more and more of you.

The thin layer of cotton of your shirt suddenly felt like the thickest brick wall there was and, after taking way too much time undoing your top button only, she firmly grabbed each side of your shirt and ripped it open, making every single button pup and roll over the floor. Your shocked, but secretly pleased, expression went completely unnoticed by her as she ogled at your chest, looking even more delicious to her thanks to the deep red lingerie you wore over it.

"And the hottest"

"Natasha!"

She didn't even lift her gaze to speak or acknowledge you, simply looking at your assets once more before bending over to kiss and suck the skin not covered by expensive lace, taking your breath away and making you completely forget about your famous "no marks" rule you barely cared about anymore with her.

"I'll buy you a new one"

She barely stopped her assault on the tender skin to mumble what tried to be words of reassurance before she started to push you backwards until you were pressed against the kitchen island. You barely noticed her hands sneaking down your body and only realized what she wanted to do when she was already lifting you up to make you sit on the marble counter, pushing you to lie down on the cold surface and hurriedly kissing down your front while taking off your underwear.

"Hell, I'll buy you fucking Max Mara"

Her raspy voice slightly muffled by the skin of your inner thigh as she propped your legs over her shoulders made your center tighten around nothing for just a second, before she dove into your pussy like she needed it to survive.

How the hell could you ever have thought about not choosing her?

Part 4

Tags: @fxckmiup @natashasilverfox @dmenby3100 @marvels--slut @dvrkhcld @elenimoris @mrsrushman @mrsromanoff @thalia-is-not-ok @alianovnasposts @clintsupremacy @taliiiaasteria @meowymari @lissaaaa145 @natashaswife4125 @olsenmyolsen @angrywhisperslove @aemilia19 @setsuna1415 @letsboandy

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff fluff #black widow #black widow x reader #black widow x female reader #black widow smut #black widow fluff #marvel #mcu

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trimmedarmor · 3 months ago

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So I think if you're good friends with me you know how I feel about twitter and tumblr user LaithRaihan. I just need to vent about the situation underneath so it doesn't expose people to sensitive stuff

tw: cp, csa, proshipping, possible gaslighting, definitely manipulation.

Edit: 3/1/25 - As some have mentioned to me, the old link for the Serination response doesn't work anymore. I've reuploaded what I can but since all of the documents got deleted, there are some missing pieces. A few anons have also mentioned not using certain terminology as it's inaccurate. I've corrected those terms. When I first wrote this vent, I hadn't seen the art and description she wrote. Now that I have seen both, I don't know how people can defend her actions. I won't go into it but the descriptions I've written in this vent do not and will not fully describe how awful it is.

There's a part of me that feels pretty vindicated that people feel lied to and horrified about Laith drawing Minori and Reigen having sex (as trauma art according to her). I have no qualms with people working through trauma with art, but I have no sympathy for her getting dogpiled rn for multiple reasons. 1. She and her friends were huge voices that engaged in calling out people on being proshippers/groomers. The callout posts were ALSO accusing people of being in the wrong for drawing vent/trauma art. If someone argued with her or went against her, she would use her large following to defend herself and harass them. Now she's crying about the same thing happening to her despite being ok with harassing others doing the same thing. Lots of minors trusted her because it seemed like she was the kind of person who was willing to call out "groomers". Now she's acting like the fandom is suddenly being unreasonable for calling her out. If it were anyone else who posted art on their priv of the same thing, they would be accused of possibly being a groomer, dangerous, and would be put on a proshipper blocklist. If she has accused people who draw proshipper content as groomers, what would it mean about herself since she also draws it? She lied about who she was to her fans and is a hypocrite in her values.

2. She kept claiming multiple times that she was depicting the relationship between Reigen and Minori as platonic and familial. People found this suspicious enough for her to get messages occasionally saying that the depiction didn't look familial or platonic to them. She would manipulate her fans into seeing her as being right and to defend her and attack others when they disagreed. Some of these people were harassed off of platforms. Needless to say, I don't think she's interpreting them as familial or platonic when she drew them having sex with each other and she can't feign that ignorance given how avid she was at calling other people out for much less.

3. If you're going to post art online in front of any audience other than yourself, there's always the possibility of it being shared with others, especially if it's controversial. Laith of all people should know that, as she had called out an ex-friend of hers who shared personal information about her within their circles (then subsequently convinced her followers to attack said ex-friend). I am not defending her ex-friend, this is just an example of it being something she has already experienced happening. She is a grown adult. She made the choice to post a drawing of an adult and minor having sex with each other in front of an audience despite knowing her followers would disapprove, given her history. These are just the consequences of misconstruing who you are to others.

4. How do we even know it was "leaked maliciously" or was whoever who leaked it concerned that Laith had been lying about who she was and wanted her fans, many of which who are minors and csa victims (who don't want to follow someone who draws adult x minor content), to know. Maybe don't lie to your fans in the first place! The claim that it was leaked maliciously from her private account makes Laith look like the victim. She's been purposefully lying to and gaslighting her fans about the intent of her drawings and encouraging them to harass others for it saying otherwise. If it was always meant to be platonic and familial, why are you drawing them having sex? I know she's saying it's trauma art but she already harassed multiple people for the same reason. I guess it's fine if she makes trauma art but if someone else does it they're a groomer and they should die (sarcasm).

5. This is personal. It's not related to what had happened recently but further illustrates that she's not a safe person and is ok with hurting and using people who are innocent. She's completely okay with falsely accusing others of racism, grooming, and ableism in order to exact "revenge" on those that she dislikes. She's okay with stalking people to find any single minor thing wrong with them and encourages her friends to do so to convince others of whatever she's accusing the person of. She's also okay with lying about all of this to get the fandom to donate to her for the "trauma" she endured, trauma that she completely made up. She did that to me and my friends and many people in the fandom still believe we're all those things, but thankfully some have seen our side and understood how much bullshit the accusations were. What did we do to piss her off so badly? We didn't let her into a PRIVATE discord server because one of the members was uncomfortable with her. That person was me. I had a bad interaction with her that left me feeling like she was incredibly parasocial and insecure to the point of wanting to take down others as a result. I understand low self esteem but when you feel the need to hurt others all because they're doing things "better than you", I have no sympathy. Sometimes I felt bad about not letting her into our server because of how much harassment, trauma and hate we got from it, but now I'm glad I stood my ground because we're a lot better off without someone like her in our lives.

If you're new to it, the our response to the whole harassment ordeal is here. I had to reupload it because everything got deleted from Google Drive somehow, so here is the updated link with as much info as I could compile: https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1zCWn8NtNEDzYdPiJGAvi6ChPIhrQKQDn?usp=sharing I still get mad about her calling us out and I still go to therapy for it, even more than a year later. It's one thing for someone awful to lie about who you are, it's another thing for people who don't know us to believe the liar and join in on harassing you, without even wanting to hear your side of the story. I still get mad about her using peoples' trauma with racism, sexual harassment, and ableism to get them to support her unquestionably. It left me with a lot of trust issues, to say the least, and a more pessimistic outlook on other people. I still get mad about the fact that she literally got paid for harassing us. I now personally know she's okay blatantly lying to people and acting like the victim to gain attention, sympathy, power, money, etc. She's someone who I think has gone through and goes through a lot of trauma. And yet I'm not excusing her behavior nor am I sympathetic to her. It's not okay to hurt people, stalk them, harass them, and manipulate your followers into harassing them all because you feel personally wronged that someone doesn't like you. I've really tried to be understanding early on after everything blew over, but every time I tried, I felt like I was just hurting myself.

Laith, if you ever happen to find this rant I'm so glad I never have to deal with someone as vindictive, jealous, egomaniacal, manipulative, selfish, immoral, and hypocritical as you irl and I hate that you have so many young, impressionable fans who still believe you're in the right because you keep playing the victim card and absolving yourself of blame. I've seen your tweets for a while and there were so many times where you criticized others' art until you find out that that they like yours, then you start taking on the very traits you criticized previously. At this point I'm convinced that everything you criticize is projection. Given the types of things you harass others about, it doesn't leave me with a positive impression.

To her young fans, this woman is a grown adult on the internet. You do not know who she is and she does not know you. Her art is good, but that does not make her a good person. She's an incredibly manipulative person, using every excuse into making it seem like she's either a victim or sympathetic in a relatable way that appeals to you. The biggest reason she is getting attacked right now is because she deceived her fans by pretending she doesn't do the same thing that she has harassed others for. People are angry at her because she is a hypocrite and lied about who she is. Again, I don't have any qualms about people using art to process trauma. I have all qualms about lying to people to seem like you're better than others who are like you, refusing to take accountability for the things you've done and turning it back on those who are angry at you and misleading your audience into attacking people who are in the right.

There's probably a lot more I could say but I've needed to say my piece about how much I dislike Laith for a while. I stopped talking about it as much after her callout to our server because I wanted to move on from the anguish and also because I know that if I said anything more and one of her fans found it, I run the risk of getting others in the server to be harassed. They've gone through enough and deserve it the least. I'm just glad it's getting more traction that she is not a good person.

Here's an article about the classic tactic she uses every time she gets accused of something by someone. It's great to know when dealing with abusers in general:

Some facts about this may not be relevant or incorrect at this point since she's constantly answering DMs, justifying, bemoaning that people leaked her private art (i.e. exposed her of being a liar). I'm not going to check up on her as it just pisses me off to see people come to her defense.

All this to say is, Laith, why can't you, at the very least, apologize for leading your fans into thinking you were the kind of person who's against making explicit minor x adult art?

#had a lot to say on this as usual #i was taking a break from social media but was notified of The News #ofc i had to say my piece. I think she's a dangerous and manipulative person. Take it or leave it.#I don't believe in dnis but if you still support her after this please just unfollow or block me

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