#what is a good domain authority

[letsdiskuss6]

Increasing the Domain Authority (DA) of a website within one month is a challenging task, as it is a long-term metric that takes into account various factors.

[longagoitwastuesday]

I keep thinking that this Gojo is just like Sukuna. I truly don't see much of a difference between them beyond the human/curse point of view

[unproduciblesmackdown]

payoff of being embedded in a unit of authoritarianism since birth is sure then being able to go like "wow this is just like dynamics & phenomena i experienced up close & personal, repeatedly, in many contexts & configurations in my first two decades of life" plus also beyond that in abuse culture world & the noncoincidence that even interactions beyond the confines of the home(tm) reinforced / did not contradict the hierarchy & concomitant abuse within....but then like hey yeah also the Larger Units of hierarchy & abuse / authoritarianism (ft. their logics & practices necessary for continuously & continually shoring up that hierarchy) can also make it like hey yeah the Two Parent abusive nuclear family more like the Two Party [the US is also a one party state but in typical american extravagance they have two] where right wingness is defined by the degree of directly embracing white supremacy & "left wing" is "anything else" hence like wow The Left is always infighting (everyone with any ideas besides "umm christofascist white ethnostate?" so like yeah there are many other ideas) vs The Right's admirable cohesion (simply re: the white supremacy idea which also necessarily embraces all other Out Group / Nonperson paradigms & practices b/c that's what all already has been necessary for shoring up the [when has the US been a nongenocidal non white supremacist non oligarchy])

like obviously individual experiences & contexts vary but like narrowing in on [the Family as immediate relations ideally cordoned off into nuclear households] ft. [Parental Authority the top priority of which is preserving that authority, ideally patriarchal, an abusive mother e.g.? hey, that ought to be the father] times it's like, think people tend to struggle re: having the "nicer" / "safer" parent who was also shitted on as well but also at the end of the day would always side with the "meaner" "more dangerous" parent, even in whatever terms most sympathetic to the abused parties, with the underlying logic that we're always just going to have to deal with them so some secret strategic mitigation is the best that can be done, perhaps the equivalent of being sent a ":(" after an Onslaught Of Expressed / Enforced Authority(tm) event....the tendency to see the best in any lack of actual intervention / protection on the assumption That Could Never Happen Anyway & forever At Least that the one parent isn't as bad as the other [the Not That Bad / Could've Been Worse infocation, like free bingo square in manifestations of minimization if not outright abuse denial] & all the sympathy for, you know, being human & doing their best(tm) &c which sure might all be true but the abused parties (oft children, more vulnerable than adults, by virtue of being children i.e. considered legal property of some specific adults & theoretical property of any adults in general (the paternal logic in any "protect [xyz]" like maintain one group's supposed ownership / control over [xyz] "for their sake" then? great) & also generally smaller & newer at being alive in this world) but who are liable to not extend that sympathy to themselves (or certainly not be extended that sympathy....when is "they're doing their best / they're only human / they mean well or whatever / they love you, they're family" successfully deployed the Thwart an abusive parent like it is to tell an abused child to not be too resentful of this situation, when is it actually deployed toward the abusive parent at all really. & again in the lack of boundary between the authoritarianism within many individual family households & that of the state they exist in (here re: the US) like that naturally one encounters the logic of abuse expressed just as "common knowledge" & the Assumptions of other people, e.g. the rejection of a parent having zero access to a child, the reinforcement of automatic apologia deployed for whatever a parent could possibly do, argued for "family", yet not deployed the same way to automatically defend anything thee child(tm) could do, thinking emoji lol....see: like the non boundary between [the Patriarchal home/family(tm)] & capitalism when uh oh capitalism the system of continuously maximizing exploitation Needs various forms of labor to be unpaid, uh oh another lack of boundary when white supremacy is used to also shore up the patriarchy that shores up the white supremacy, e.g. that even if in some "inferior" class it's treated as More Important that at least you're not that And black, the theoretical ideal/normal white man is a person while a white woman is a woman while a black woman is black, white women could have any legal property via chattel slavery which needed white women's participation to help enforce, the specter of sexual violence all coming from nonwhite & especially black men & it's up to the genteel white man to Protect Women (see prev, implicitly white or you'd have to specify otherwise)

anyway that is to get around to pointing to the Two Parent System wherein so shockingly the results are the same as the One Parent System re: abuse maintaining The Family (properly, i.e. unquestionable & certainly undeniable parental access to children, & "ideally" ofc again the patriarchal Father as ultimate authority w/ownership over the Mother, who in turn is theoretically honored for that motherhood (at least you own your children, insofar as it doesn't contradict w/what the father wants to do with his superior claim to ownership) & then finally all the obviously shittiness from being in that position in a patriarchy is in turn dumped on The Children who are ungrateful & owe the mother everything Because of what the broader society & immediate personal expressions of that abuse have done to her. see also ofc that two adults likely don't have the resources to raise a child in time or money or energy, maybe there's only one but also even an extended family's worth of adults aren't enough, is it enough when a child is sent to school for some other adults to be in charge most of the day, or even if someone is hired to look after them beyond that, all this ofc with the assumed premise that a child is always limited to the various Domains of The Adults In Charge, & from there i segue into how naturally being in gay baby jail unless & until adults are no longer recognized as Legally In Charge Of You (the grand like 5 minutes it's relatively been since the ideal timeline of a woman's life wasn't being legal property of her father until asap passed along to legal property of her husband. still considered ideal ofc but like with "maybe you can have a bank account" now & "maybe you can become 29 before you're in Old Maid danger" Maybe, i said, Maybe....anyway that obviously adults(tm) being divided up (atomised. spritz) into Households isn't even supposed to be enough to live on their own, re: necessitating Marriage, much less uh oh having kids who are stuck with their parents who are stuck with them, but then all the obvious actual problems & abuses inflicted on Adults to have to have their family households & exploited jobs are dumped on the children who Must appreciate & be loyal to the parents (i.e. never Deny Access) while yknow kids have Fake Problems they're whining about, the one Real Problem of having to pay a bill gets the payoff of leverage to tell your children to shut the fuck up or perhaps the more vulnerable spouse

hm didn't segue right into "so shoutout to like The Ratchet Effect diagrams lol, the "Two" Party System where its supposed left wing Blocks Movement To The Left, right wing Moves Everything To The Right" but even that is like, mm, conferring a passivity to what democrats do in the continual movement to the right (won an election? lost an election? the lesson either way is The Right Is Right; exact same logic as in "winning or losing" "the war on crime" like the collection & analysis of whatever statistics show the trend of some "crime" is increasing in frequency or magnitude? show that it's decreasing? the lesson either way is Cops Need More Power) like the institutional effort of democrats to push a candidate nobody wants through primaries (did we even do that this time around. oh great that the assumed candidate even graciously agreed to not force themself as The Candidate, & now like 5 min left with the Next In Line candidate dumped on everyone now with the lesson for the left(tm) to shut up already lol) & then it's up to Grassroots Voters. it's up to Unity & well we all Need to listen to the white supremacists, points were made, in the "elections" with voting as limited as possible & with the electoral college & supreme court as Safeguards against democracy & here's the senate, eternally thus, & again the conclusions will always manage to be moving To The Right, paraphrasing from twitter like democrats are about to be or already at the point of "in the name of unity we will no longer be running against republicans; it's too divisive :(" which yknow is already The Statements of all of yesterday from various like "i'm the republican official white supremacy agree-er now" after also the entire campaign of "no, I'm the fascist" where like wow shocking that the appeal to the fascists didn't win a) the fascists who will ofc want the even more overt fascism, why wouldn't they or b) the people who want antifascism actually, and do not want fascism; who could have foreseen? & it's always the fault of being Too Antifascist for the actions of the fascists or the Diplomatic Comprimises the other party makes with the fascists &/or their Failure to thwart them....the Nicer, Safer party in power is surely doing their best & at least they're not the Meaner, More Dangerous one but at the end of the day they'll always side with that party over america(tm) & those bearing the brunt of the actions of State Power can be told to keep their chin up or else to stop acting out b/c how do you expect that state power to respond, cmon, you bring it upon yourself, & you Have to work with them & understand all their feelings & your role in resolving those feelings by being lesser inferior property, you do Have to understand, b/c in the end this is All About Family, surely Good & Necessary, whoops i mean in the end this is All About America

anyway yeah i'm like damn my "nicer" (also shitty) father who was also the even more sexist & racist (& certainly no Less ableist, queerphobic) parent was basically the democratic party of the Two Parent System of Family Government lol. b/c we Need to perpetuate this Family, no other logics much less actions are acceptable....& people struggling with the Parent / Adults in their life like that who were the "safe" & "protective" ones who markedly failed to protect & minimized the harm afterwards but also in general, never to confront the reality of the situation, or do damage control like "aw some points were made at all :( ah i see you have Feelings about this :( hmm yes the Parental Power is gonna have to make some changes" & then as soon as possible (assuming reeling in the party who was deviating too much) these changes(tm) are already compromised or diminished if done at all, & then oops things incrementally might be right back to how they always were, no guarantees it won't be Worse b/c the Power is even more insecure / aware of weaknesses, & the only way this is thwarted is if the Wayward Parties can actually leverage new boundaries / less vulnerability, not b/c the supposedly sympathetic parties, who never came through where it counts & likely would also become overt antagonizers / wielders of whatever power within the Family hierarchy / turn on the more vulnerable parties to Get Them In Line, actually came through. movement Away (more disruptive to the maintenance of The Family, The State) is blocked, incrementally only ever moving everything back, & then Further....& despite this being what the power structures are, & do, the Disruptive parties liable to be scapegoated lol, can't believe the scapegoat child is ruining everything for everyone, this Family would totally improve & start being everything it could be otherwise & we ignore who actually has the power & is actually enforcing the hierarchy harming everyone to point to that scapegoat; can't believe thee left is destroying america (republican voice) can't believe the left is destroying america (democrat voice) So You See? The Undeniable Consensus. just like how i believe it was my fault my family unit was Like That & i had those experiences, according to the vast majority of Input from that family & even others who, knowing nothing, would say how Lucky i was to be relatively close to home, or just of course that oh well parents love their children & mean well & try their best. just like how i believe that being treated like i've been generally as a neurononconforming person, i.e. hated & the interpersonal abuse & bullying & ostracization & [attention possibilities: ignored, responded to but negatively, interacted with to get something from] & actually rewarding interactions or just actions being liable to get Deluxe authority responses as disruptive(tm) & ofc disobedient(tm) like hell fuckin yeah lol. just as i don't think that other people who have similar experiences or ones i don't have, i.e. assessed race being automatically seen as wrong / inferior, being isolated & undermined from all around? well gotta be their fault then, cmon lol....Abuse is actually normative, not extraordinary, in every Arena of interactions, & so are the logics / apologia / assumptions

anyway lol re: like yeah people struggling with the like betrayal of the "nooo i'm on your side, i sympathize, i'm the one who's nicer & you Need so that things aren't even worse" party, not even One Big Novel betrayal, but rather that that's what's Been done the whole time & doesn't stop. that supposedly if you have Any sympathy for that party you have to be like aw :( keep doing your thing (necessarily reining everyone in) or if you have Any sympathy for the people who also want things to improve but blame & take it out on the more disruptive parties (more disruptive to an abusive family e.g., btw. & not like i see Cohesion as necessarily some Good rather than neutral? when i'm autistic / my existence is supposedly antithetical to this? or when i'm able to look at a zillion hypothetical or actual situations & recognize how "cohesion" isn't the best goal / a destructive one / a vague concept anyways like cohesion Between Whom? on what basis? recognized & pursued how? why? up next: same as vague shit like "family" or "community" &c) then it's like yep gotta be Responsible for their feelings too if you're at all sympathetic & capitulate, The Only Possible Action, vs the idea of those in power actually making things shit stopping, much less being stopped / having to stop in the various ways that can happen....one way being "oh no, adult children who choose to be no-contact with parents" which is seen as A Tragedy, & sign of a Deteriorating Society, take me back. ah jeez oh no, look at the divorce raaates....Oh No, twentysomething women aren't pursuing marriage enoughhhh....again the undetectably identical echo when people peak vaguely talk about "conflicts" that thwart "community" or whatever, ugh nobody will date anymore, commit anymore, be friends anymore, hang out as coworkers anymore, talk to me if i want to talk to them anymore, &ccccc....

the real tl;dr is like wait ""two party"" (one party) US electoral system, just like ""two parent"" maintenance of thee family lol. ratchet effect raise your hand if you've only ever experienced Movement Away from the abusive family blocked, forever incrementally ratcheted back in to the desires & pursuits of those most in power / top of the hierarchy / thus of course most invested in the abuse, that's what the power & hierarchy is made of, sustained by, perpetuates....sorry doing our best :( sorry that's just all that's realistic, no other choice Really. cmon. kind of Your Fault if you don't agree to that & whoops now Everything is the fault of whoever doesn't agree & cooperate enough :( now look what you've done & brought upon yourself :( & we'll just forget the eruption of violence suppression happened & will happen again & be the overhanging threat all in the meantime

[ventique18]

IDIA MADE AN AMV TO EXPLAIN HIS PLAN TO YUU AND FRIENDS IU'M FUCKING DYING

HE EVEN HAS A GOD DAMN NARRATION OMFG

"Ahh~ Only good things are happening lately~ As if we're in a dream~"

"Eh. It's actually just a dream tho."

"Hello everyone trapped in this empty world of dreams."

"This is Idia Shroud."

"So today, I will explain the strategy to beat:

"I BUILT A DREAM WORLD USING CHEAT-LEVEL MAGIC AS THE MOST EVIL LAST BOSS MAGE MALLEUS DRACONIA"

"The magical domain that Malleus created is similar to a server running a huge MMORPG."

"That means everyone's dreams are ran individually. Malleus and his clones are keeping an eye on the server."

"In other words, Malleus is the server admin."

"And his clones crack down on users who commit violations like in online games."

"Malleus is the game master who has the authority to manage the entire server."

"HE REALLY IS A DEMON LORD WHO RULES THE WORLD"

"Under his control, we have no chance of winning..."

"HOWEVER..!"

"With the super geek hacker group STYX using ORTHO ATTACK, the server source code has been analyzed."

"So using this, we're building cheating tools [WARNING: DO NOT DO THIS IN ACTUAL GAMES]"

"So using these cheating tools, the administrative rights to my dream can be transferred to me."

"Then I'll lure Malleus into my dream where I can get rid of that god damned invincibility!"

I CAN'T FUCKING TAKE THIS OH MY GOD

"-- Well, it sounds like a perfect strategy but... The truth is there's just a few things about this cheating tool..."

"WHAT IF THE SERVER ADMIN FINDS OUT ABOUT THIS DURING DEVELOPMENT?"

"THEN,"

"GAME OVER."

"BUT BUT BUT--"

"The thing is, even though he's using autonomous clones to monitor each dream, it still shouldn't be easy to control the dreams of 20000 PEOPLE in Sage island."

"If problems turn up everywhere, he'll have to deal with them all!"

"Sooooo..."

"While I'm developing the cheat tool, I want you all to distract Malleus!"

"I want you all to gather party members to defeat the Demon King!"

"Once everyone's awake, I'll send out invitations to my own dream."

"Then I'll lure Malleus into my dream... THEN TURN ON THE CHEAT TOOL! As planned, Malleus' invincibility will disappear,"

"Then everyone will accept the invitation and gather into my dream!"

"THEN EVERYONE BEATS HIM UP"

"Then Malleus will have to take down his magic AND EVERYONE WILL BE FREE!"

"If you liked this 3-minute video, don't forget to leave a like!"

I'M GONNA FUCKING CRY THIS IS INSANE OMFG KASDJLKLDASLMASD

[mortalityplays]

Unprintable: Artists Against Authority

I am absolutely beside myself with excitement to announce the launch of Unprintable.

Unprintable is an online free shop, where original artwork and arts resources are released into the public domain.

Everything listed here is free to use, copy and remix any way you like. You can print off hi-res artwork to decorate your apartment, or to use in your own projects. You can use the writing in your own zines, anthologies or performances. You can put it on a t-shirt. You can read it on the radio. You can paint it on a truck. It's up to you, entirely and forever.

The collection will be updated continuously, on an unfixed schedule, with contributions from a wide range of named and anonymous artists and activists. You can read the FAQ for a full rundown of what Unprintable is and why it exists, but these are the really important parts:

Can I download/print/use the work listed here? Yes. Can I use it for [X]? You can do whatever you want with it forever. But what if I want to [Y]? You can do whatever you want with it forever. Why do this? A few reasons: 1. We want a space to just share things, no strings attached. We recognise that copyright is an irrational system that was designed to protect the profit interests of publishing middlemen and IP hoarders. In fact, copyright is often weaponised against the creators it pretends to protect. As long as it exists, we are unlikely to win any other form of protection for our work, and we are profoundly limited from engaging in the kind of communal artistic and storytelling practices that were the norm around the world for thousands of years. 2. Radical art is often unprintable. Profit motives make people cautious. A lot of print-on-demand or local print shop services will refuse artwork with controversial, sensitive or political content. This is very frustrating when these themes are the focus of so much of our work (and indeed our lives). Rather than waste any more breath trying to explain why a trans artist might want to print the word ‘faggot’, we can give our work away for free. Got a printer? It’s yours. 3. It feels good. Sharing is joyful. It’s the reason we love making things in the first place. We don’t write poems because we look forward to filleting them for consumption, or layer colours so that we can sell a canvas by the ounce. We have only ever wanted to be able to support ourselves so that we can make, but that relationship is deeply dysfunctional under capitalism. We made these things, and we want you to have them. It doesn’t need to be complicated.

I'll write up some more posts introducing the launch collection soon. In the meantime...be free, enjoy, explore, have fun!

https://free.mortalityplays.com

[opencharacters]

Public Domain Day 2024

Once again its the day we all wait for, public domain day. the day some thing get ripped out of the clasps of the claws of corporations. This year is notable for many things becoming public domain but specifically a certain mouse in the united states. Here's an example of some of the things but note that this is only a sampling of what's become public domain

In Europe and other life of author + 70 years areas:

The Wind Has Risen by Tatsuo Hori

The polish Koziołek Matołek comics by Kornel Makuszyński

Mr. Weston's Good Wine by T.F Powys

In New Zealand and other life of author + 50 years areas:

J.R.R Tolkien's work, but only the ones published during his lifetime. Things published by his son Christopher are not public domain

Margaret Wilson's The Able McLaughlins

The works of crime writer Lucy Beatrice Malleson (Anthony Gilbert)

In the US:

All things published in 1928

The big one of course, Steamboat Willie and the earliest incarnation of Mickey Mouse. Disney still owns trademarks so be careful and theres some things like his gloves that didnt appear until later and im sure the Mouse's lawyers are watching like hawks

The House at Pooh Corner, first appearance of Tigger

Orlando: A Biography by Virginia Woolf

Theres much more. Take a peek over at Project Gutenberg or The Internet Archive

[unclewhisky]

Making Search Engine Optimization Work For You

Search engine optimization is often explained in complex terminology when it is simply a way of increasing your website's chances of ranking highly by manipulating your web content to include the words that your target audience might use to find your website. This article seeks to simplify the explanations so that search engine optimization becomes less intimidating.

When choosing a domain name for your site, you should never settle for something irrelevant just because your preferred domain has been taken. The closer your domain name is to the subject of your site, the better you will do in the rankings. Turn on that light bulb above your head and choose a great, relevant domain name.

On your website, always include an address where people can send letters, questions or concerns about your company. The more feedback that you get, the better understanding you will have of what your customer's preferences are. This will allow you to maximize your productivity and appeal to your client's interests.

Do this by forming a robots. txt file and including it within the root directory. This will keep search engines from gaining access to the files you choose not to display.

Switch up your styles. You may think that the more often you "name-drop" keywords on your website, the more easily it will be found. While that is likely true, it is difficult to have a decent content flow, when you consistently insert the same words, repeatedly. Change it up to please your readers and vary your information.

One you have read and absorbed the tips contained in this article, you can begin to put them to work for you on your website or blog. Remember that it's going to take time for the SEO tweaks you made to work properly. But once they do start working, you will find that your site climbs the charts like a hit record.

Read more here da checker

[embrace-kalon]

How To Make SEO Work For You

Search engine optimization has proven to be quite successful in establishing traffic to your website. It does not matter what type of business you run. If you have a website that you are trying to promote, take time to read through the following tips to make the most of your efforts.

When attempting to boost your site's SEO rankings, focus your keyword density at the beginning of your page. Search engines place more weight on keywords that appear earlier in the document. Be aware, however, of how your site appears to the search engine when using this technique - the first paragraph of text may not always be the at the top of the page source.

In order to know if your efforts to optimize your site's appearance in web search results, it is important to monitor your page rank, which can be done with the Google toolbar. It is also important to monitor what keywords your visitors are entering in their search to find your site.

How you present keywords is just as important as using them consistently. By adding bold or italic tags, you impart importance to your visitors and draw their attention to them. This also has an impact on the search engines. This simple addition brings weight to searches and drives visitors to act.

Many companies offer search engine optimization services but in order to find the one that is right for your business, you have to do some research. Contact the company and ask them questions about their experience, the strategies they employ and the risks that are involved. Then conduct your own research on the business by checking with the Better Business Bureau and seeing what information you can find about them online.

As revealed earlier, search engines and keywords can help to increase a web site's popularity and thus increase the chances for success and profit. Usually there is a carefully crafted formula for using keywords to optimize your websites chance of being found and ranked as the top choice. By understanding the idea and acting on it, your website can reap the rewards.

Read more here domain rating checker

[biteofcherry]

Relish your scream

vampire!Bucky Barnes x female reader

summary: Better the devil you know, but what if going to the Scaretale with someone you're already acquainted with doesn't mean you're completely safe? What if the club isn't your doom, but merely enhances the darkness that was already setting its trap for you?

warnings: vampire!Bucky; dark!Bucky; heavy dub-con; mind compulsion; biting; blood sucking; blood play; forced public nudity (partial); oral (f receiving); sex; captivity; objectification as a kink; conditioning;

word count: 5.4k

Author's Note: I was a little disappointed you voted vampire for Bucky, because there are so many amazing stories with vampire Bucky and I feared I won't be able to create anything fresh. But I wrote it in a specific vibe, amping up the vampire bite into very debauched kind of blood play. Perhaps that can count as something new 😜 This story is the fifth one in the Scaretale universe.

The cab driver was insistent on stopping half a street away from the entrance to the club. He was one of those superstitious people who feared magic tricking him, or a monster luring him to his doom, if he found himself within Scaretale’s range. 

You wanted to claim it’s silly, but the rumor was that the club was created and belonged to a dark fae. Who knows what their magic could do. Maybe the cabbie was right to keep his distance.

Unfortunately, for you it meant that you had to walk down the cracked pavement in your high heels to reach the club. 

It dawned on you much earlier, soon after you agreed to the terms, that meeting him in a club catered to monsters wouldn’t really provide you any safety. It would be his domain while you felt on the edge for the whole evening. Or night. However long he decided it had to last.

But he had that smooth, dark charm about him, making it appear as a reasonable public space to collect the debt. 

As you walked towards the impressive building, which glowed from within like a cursed castle, you tried to convince yourself that the place of your meeting didn’t matter anyway. You wouldn’t have any sort of upper hand no matter the place you sat in. 

Because there was something about James Barnes that put you to attention at any given moment. As if your body was attuned to his presence. Like a deer may be aware of a wolf prowling nearby. 

James was a coworker at the high levels of the international company you both worked for. And sort of a work rival, too. 

He was courteous, always well mannered and classy. Dressed like that, too. He was driven at work, reaching each set goal with unwavering determination and skills. Honestly, you had reasons to admire him and admit he was fucking good at his job. Sometimes you inwardly joked that you want to be like James Barnes when you grow up. 

There wasn’t really any competition between you two, none of you were threatened with the prospect of losing anything if the other’s department scored a few more points in the quarter. 

It was the smidge of inadequacy that made you often eye Barnes as a threat. Coming out of your own insecurities, you suspected. 

You were damn good at your job and at leading people. It’s just that you were… messy. 

Not a complete disaster, but a little chaotic and sometimes lost, sometimes too soft, especially considering the sharks that swam in the ocean of legal (and illegal) deals you worked with. 

Compared to Barnes, you were chaotic and bouncy.

But not everyone could stride through the room like a lethal blade slicing through fabric.

Barnes could. 

Everything about him screamed danger, even when he offered a charming smile, or bought doughnuts for the whole floor. Though you watched people let down their guards around him, treating him like a harmless, cute man. 

Was it only you that experienced that pulse of wariness whenever he walked into a room?

Perhaps, it was that aura of a vampire…

You’re still not sure what prompted you to bet him. Confrontations weren’t your preferred model of operating. Especially towards men you were both fascinated and scared of. Maybe you just wanted to prove to yourself that your bubbly style was as effective as Barnes’ cutthroat smoothness. 

You veiled it as a team challenge (which both of your teams actually took as a fun twist to their usual hard work, including some subtle ribbing). If you won, you’d get to take over Barnes’ fancy office for a whole week.

It’s not like it would bother him much, since he worked evening to sunrise hours, while you were a day worker. 

But you were the messy one and it made you giggle as you thought of leaving your usual chaos in his pristine space. 

When you proposed that, Barnes held your gaze with those incredibly steel-blue eyes. Not a twitch of annoyance on his stupidly handsome face (that half of the skyscraper was pinning after). No, he was seizing you up and calculating his potential gain. Which made your pulse skip. 

You still remembered how his eyes shifted to your pulse point and your thighs clenched as you thought of his teeth sinking into your neck. 

He agreed to the bet, demanding your company, if he won. 

Which he had. 

There was a flood of tangled thoughts and doubts when you realized you agreed to be his for one night. Did he mean his night as his work day, making you do any assistant, slaving work just for the kicks? Or did he mean it as owning you for a night, as in…

His chuckle was like a tap on your cheek, stirring you from your trance when you barged into his office, needing him to explicitly state what exactly he expected of you. Then relief filled you when he explained that he wanted you as his company for a meeting. Said he’s old fashioned like that.

James didn’t mention the dress code, just told you where and what time to come. You could be a brat about it and appear in jeans and a hoodie, but you considered yourself to be honorable and a good sport. You lost a bet, but you wouldn’t be a sore loser, or petty. There was also a part of you that wanted to impress Barnes, to show yourself as someone who could pull off a fancy look. 

In your sparkling red heels and black, silk dress, you walked up the stairs of the Scaretale with your chin raised high. 

The club’s dark interior was a surprise. From the outside it appeared to be glowing, full of light and mischief, but, as you stepped in, velvet darkness wrapped around you like a shawl. 

There were points of light, but they were dimmed. A whisper of mystery and horror slithered around, quickly getting lost in the growing warmth of spicy seduction. 

It was a place known for encouraging lust and romance, but you didn’t expect the sensual brush of it to tease your skin. 

Perhaps it was why your breath hitched when your eyes met James’ across the room. 

His icy eyes always held a particular intensity, but as he watched you now it sent a ripple of something hot and exciting through your body. 

As you neared him, your heart clenched in fear, before restarting with a flutter. James was your coworker, but in this setting you lost any sense of safety around him. He was someone different here. More himself, than the persona he played in public. More the ancient beast. 

And the core of him you met that evening was scaring you.

He greeted you softly, saying your name in a way that sounded intimate and possessive. His hand rested on the small of your back as he led you toward a nook in the wall that was separated from the rest of the floor by an iron-wrought railing and heavy, black curtains draped to the sides. 

There was a rectangular table in the middle of the small room he led you to, with velvet benches surrounding it instead of chairs. Chandeliers dripping black crystals hung above, casting a soft light that didn’t fully disperse the shadows. 

“Please, sit beside me.” James pointed to one side of the table. He kept standing until you sat down, then slid right next to you. 

“Would you like something to drink?” He asked, sliding closer when you tried to put a few inches of space between you. 

“White wine, please.” You nervously twisted your fingers in your lap. 

A few seconds later a waitress appeared by the railing, though you didn’t see James summon anyone. Well, they sure had some top, attentive staff in here. You were surprised when Barnes ordered a specific brand of wine, stressing to bring it sweet.

“Why sweet?” You liked most of the whites, including some of the dry, so it didn’t really matter to you.

When James’ gaze flicked to you, it appeared it mattered greatly to him. 

“Because you’re sweet.” He stated. 

A sudden thought of him referring to your blood’s flavor made you both hot and extremely cold with terror, but his next words made that reaction appear silly.

“Wearing all those pastels and headbands with crystals and pearls. And everytime we happen to be in the same meeting, you’re always drinking pink grapefruit soda. You’re a sweetling.” 

His eyes slowly dragged down your form. You couldn’t help the quickening of your heart rate as you felt his gaze move along your body. Again, you were certain his focus lingered on where your veins pulsed beneath your skin. 

“I admit I’m quite surprised to see you in black,” when he spoke, it was lighter, more teasing. There was even a hint of that charming smile that disarms people.

“Thought it’s best to match you, since I’m your company for this important meeting,” you shrugged. 

He still didn’t express what your expected role was. If it was a business meeting, was he going to lean on you for advice? Or were you an arm candy, only there to provide a nice accent and be a trinket of power? Many conservative men still conducted their business meetings, or public appearances with that mindset. Maybe vampires did too.

“I appreciate it.” James smiled at you. There was a satisfied gleam in his eyes, but darker and hungrier than simple appreciation of your thoughtfulness. 

A voice in your head whispered that perhaps it wasn’t a good idea to cater to a monster's whims, even to those of a polished, cultured one. Perhaps it was even worse than if you goaded a barely leashed werewolf. 

Because James was incredibly smart and cunning, and you were beginning to suspect that he had the ability to manipulate your reactions without you even realizing you were playing into his game. 

When the waitress appeared with your glass of wine, James took it from her and handed it to you. Your fingers brushed against his cold ones, the contact sending a jolt down your spine. His skin was cold, yet you felt a sense of warmth unfurl in your belly. 

As if his mere touch heated up your blood. Which had to be a very dangerous thing, considering he was a blood sucking vampire. 

“Mhmm, you smell sweet, too.” He hummed, tilting his head so that his nose almost brushed a spot behind your ear.

“James!” You gasped, fingers tightening on the thin stem of your wine glass. 

A surge of trepidation took over as your instincts reminded you of being in proximity of the most dangerous predator. It wasn’t a good omen when a vampire commented on your tempting smell. Because it meant at some point he might want to verify if your taste matched. 

Yet the cold thought of it sucked your nipples into straining points. 

You took a sip of your wine. Then another one, in hope of relaxing your body enough to hide certain reactions. 

“Call me Bucky, please.” His voice sounded like a seductive whisper. It reminded you of a hot tickle against your ear, or neck, which you sometimes experienced when writhing on your bed amidst a wet dream. 

If your imagination was wilder, you’d wonder if this vampire had something to do with the sex dreams which occasionally haunted you on those rare stormy nights. 

“Okay, Bucky,” you smiled up at him, hanging onto the comfort of breaking a certain barrier between you two, by being allowed to use his nickname. You didn’t think you heard anyone at work call him that. 

His eyes darkened. He traced his fingers along the back of your neck, before settling his whole, big hand on your shoulder.

“Say it again,” he demanded.

“Bucky,” you said it softly, sensing unbearable tension growing between the two of you. 

“Sweetling.” His low growl reverberated right against your clit. 

You would hope he didn’t notice you clenching your thighs, but with how his own leg was pressed to yours, there was no doubt he felt the shift. 

Suddenly, his eyes sharpened, his gaze briefly shifting above your head before returning to you. His hold on your shoulder relocated as his arm smoothed around and down your back, his fingers digging into your waist as he pulled you closer to his side. 

“Don’t speak.” Bucky ordered in a hushed tone. “Don’t engage, even if he tries to address you. Just sit quietly beside me and drink your wine. And follow my lead.”

“An accessory,” you nodded, taking a sip of sweet alcohol. You didn’t feel particularly disappointed with being reduced to quiet arm candy. It wasn’t your meeting, nor for a business of your department, so you felt no urge to prove yourself. 

“You’ll be good, sweetling.” He declared, as if you had no option but to obey. 

As his eyes held your gaze, you felt something shift inside you. Like a thin string wrapping itself around your throat. Its other end seemed to be in Bucky’s hand. An invisible leash that compelled you to follow his lead, just like he said you should. 

Compelled… The word echoed in your head, scratching against your skull with some knowledge you couldn’t remember. 

You focused on it and on the sweet taste of the wine as someone entered your space. You cast a quick glance at the large man, but remained glued to Bucky’s side like he wanted. Their words flew in and out of your ears, actual information barely sticking with your awareness. You were more entranced with Bucky’s voice.

And the way his fingers started running up and down your arm. Cold, yet enticing that very lively sensation. 

Words about takeover alerted your mind, but then that shiny, invisible leash tugged on you gently and your brain settled back into its comfort of focusing on Bucky. 

At some point, his teasing fingers closed around your hand and he brought it to his lips. He kissed the soft part below your thumb then pressed his mouth to your wrist. Right over where your pulse danced. 

Your body tensed at once, a pained gasp leaving your lips as Bucky’s fangs pierced your skin.

He bit you without any warning. Like it was his privilege. 

Tears filled your eyes as you looked up at him with a flare of betrayal. His gaze shifted from the other man to settle on you, even as his lips remained sealed into your wrist, sucking slow sips of your warm blood.

Be good, sweetling. His voice filled your head. 

It hurts. You weren’t even aware that your whine didn’t form into actual words spoken aloud, but was merely a pathetic sound accompanying your thoughts. 

Does it? Bucky’s eyebrow arched as he drew more of your blood in, then swiped his tongue along your sensitive, punctured skin. 

You blinked, dazed. When he bit you there was pain, but as he sucked you… You felt the throbbing in your wrist, but its echo was a more pleasurable beat that had your nipples and clit thrumming. 

You watched Bucky lick his lips clean and return to his conversation with ease, as if taking your blood was nothing more than sipping a drink. Which he did again a few minutes later, lifting your hand and sinking his fangs a little lower into your forearm. 

A soft, little cry spilled out of your mouth, but your legs parted wider to ease your throbbing clit. 

There was no previous agreement to Bucky drinking from you, yet somehow you didn’t resist as he took. Your body simply molded to his demand. Your brain resisted, angry and sobbing at the inability to fight, but that rebellion came and went like sparks of a badly functioning electricity. 

You didn’t want it, didn’t consent to it, but it felt so good. Made you a good kind of dizzy. Ligheaded, like you had one glass of champagne too much. Your usually buzzing body felt softened and pliant. 

For once you were calm and nestled, not a chaotic shard not fitting to the surroundings.

You spread your legs wider. The table separated and obscured the view of you from the stranger, but you had an inkling that the arousal trickling between your folds wafted into the air. 

It sure reached Bucky’s senses. Behave, his hand on your waist tightened its grip.

I am, you boldly replied to the phantom voice in your head and promptly brought the glass of wine to your lips. You drank half of it in one go. 

A part of you expected Bucky to act rashly. To show irritation or impatience, but then again you never saw him lose the winter cool of his demeanor. He didn’t react to your mental hiccup either, simply carrying on the conversation with the other monster. 

However, his hand smoothed up your arm slowly. Fingertips danced over the puncture wounds which he sealed with a swipe of his tongue, then traveled upwards. 

He took the thin strap of your dress between his thumb and forefinger and dragged it down your shoulder. Black fabric covering your breast fell down, swaying in a soft roll right above your nipple. Just when you thought his retaliation was driven to the max, Bucky’s hand skimmed over your collarbone and down to the swell of your breast.

Voice not wavering even once, as he kept talking over some business details, Bucky slipped his fingers under the silk of your dress and took your tit out. 

No! Your humiliated consciousness screamed silently. 

Bucky remained unphased. He exposed your breast, running his fingertips around the areola and flicking your puckered nipple. 

When the other man started talking, simply continuing the conversation as if you weren’t lewdly displayed in front of him, Bucky tipped you back. The arm around you tightened, supporting your back. His other hand cupped your breast as he sank his teeth into the soft tissue. 

More wetness pooled in your core, even as pain from the bite zapped your synapses. 

You were nothing but a chalice of wine from which Bucky sipped whenever he wanted. However he wanted to. 

A morsel to bite and chew slowly. 

He didn’t seal that bite right away, so the blood trickled down slowly as he helped you back into a sitting position, cuddled to his side. You felt the warm liquid gather atop your nipple into a ruby drop. 

Bucky swiped it with his thumb, teasing your nub as he did. 

When he brought the thumb to his mouth to suck it clean, you stared up at him in horror and awe. That handsome face with chiseled jawline and cheekbones, pale pink lips wrapped around a marble white, thick thumb. As he released his finger, you saw a flash of his teeth - a smudge of your blood covering them. 

His thumb was coated with Bucky’s saliva as he brought it down to rub over the bite, sealing your wound. 

The hand on your waist gripped your elbow when you attempted to reach for the strap and cover yourself back. Leave it, Bucky’s low command resounded in your head. What?! No! Why? It was indecent! He wasn’t even drinking from you anymore. Just holding you partially naked and humiliated. 

Because I wish so and you’re mine to do whatever I please.

There wasn’t even a seductive lilt of teasing to his tone. It was a richly dark declaration of ownership you didn’t expect.

You wanted to protest, to scream it out at him that you didn’t want it. That even if some aspects of his actions were arousing you, you weren’t his to treat like a toy, or blood bag. That’s when your memory flashed back to the exact conversation you had with Bucky when you negotiated the rules of the bet. 

What you interpreted as company for one night, for this particular meeting, was never in fact stated as limited. Bucky never said for one evening. He only demanded that you’d give him your company. 

Now, his voice returned, as calm as before, sit still and drink your wine, or I’ll take your other tit out.

Anger and despair flared inside you, as hot as the wave of dark excitement that turned the fabric of your panties into a soaked mess sticking to your folds. 

What he said and did to you was bolder and filthier than you tried with any of your former lovers. It didn’t only push, but crossed your boundaries. But even as he did something so unpredictable like undressing you in public, there was calculated deliberation in it. Cold, lethal precision strumming your responsive pressure points. 

Will you let him drink from me? For some reason, you clenched your fingers on Bucky’s suit jacket, clinging to him as terror of what might actually happen took over.

No. You’re mine. Came his instant, firm response. 

But there was only silence when your panicked voice asked, Will you kill me?

He left you hanging with that worry as he wrapped up his meeting. The wine kept your blood rushing warm, as did Bucky’s closeness, but your heart started to drag with growing dread. Needing something to anchor yourself to, you stared at the rings on Bucky’s fingers. 

It was only when his voice reached your ears that your head snapped up and you realized the other man was gone. 

“You did really well for your first time, sweetling.” Bucky’s fingers gently took your chin. 

Despite the allure of his eyes and his hold on you, the spark of dread spread into a sticky web that filled you with all sorts of cold, breath-stealing fears. His choice of words was deliberate. Everything Bucky did was. So it meant he planned on there being a second, a third, and more events similar to that night. 

Bucky took your empty wine glass and placed it on the table. Then he readjusted your dress and helped you up onto your feet. He narrowed his eyes for a moment, muttering something about getting you a proper coat. 

A waitress waited by the exit, handing you a to-go cup of something hot as Bucky led you toward the door. Your fingers wrapped around the warm cup, scenting something sweet. 

You had a thought of making a scene, making a run for it, but this place was filled with monsters who, undoubtedly, would be on his side. And Bucky was a damn vampire, who could probably catch you before you made half a step. 

Also, whatever was in that cup was really tempting you to drink. And his hand on your back felt nice, too.

As Bucky guided you down the steps, a sleek, black car stopped at the curb. Some young man jumped from the driver’s side and gave Bucky keys with a deep bow. Huh, you didn’t know they had valets here. 

Bucky helped you into the passenger’s seat and buckled your seatbelt. So engulfed by the cozy warmth and spicy scent, you didn’t think to use the moment of him walking to the driver’s side to try and escape. 

But the question returned, rolling out on your tongue as Bucky cut through the city with speed right on the edge of limit. 

“Are you going to kill me?” 

“Not yet.” Bucky’s calm, simple response was like a blade piercing through your chest. 

“The process is more complicated. There are rules-” he paused, hearing your intake of breath. When he looked at you, you were curling in on yourself and leaning against the side door, like you wanted to blend into it and disappear. 

Something flashed in his blue eyes and after a moment you were pulling away from the door and sitting back in your seat. 

Bucky’s fingers cupped your chin. Even with only one hand on the steering wheel he had full control of the car. 

“I’m not disposing of you, sweetling.” He assured you. “You’re my feeder. And will become my companion.”

Companion. It echoed in your head. You agreed to be his company. But you didn’t know it meant something more for a vampire. 

The bites on your body pulsed with awareness, reminding you of the way he sunk his teeth into you. You wondered if his cock would sink into you with the same seductive firmness. 

Your previous dizziness from the blood loss was nothing compared to the chaos that Bucky’s revelation brought. On the way to his estate he explained more, stating details of his plans for you as if he was reporting something obvious. Each sentence of the fate he weaved for you, however, leashed on your skin like a lick of flogger. Hurting and pushing your mind toward a cloudy space. 

With some last remnants of panicked will, you attempted to run when he parked in front of an impressive estate. He caught you in a blink of an eye. Then those blue eyes were staring into yours and an invisible leash tugged on you, calming you into compliance. 

He made you drink that hot chocolate, which you got in the to-go cup, as he steered you through the corridors of the mansion. Rich sweetness filled your mouth and brought a sense of regeneration. 

The cup dropped forgotten when Bucky brought you into his bedroom. Somewhere between his words about keeping you here with him for two years, until you learned all the rules, all the expectations and attuned to your role at his side, he unzipped your dress and pushed it down to the floor. 

Your hands against him held zero strength as he spread you on his massive bed, your attempts at fighting him off melting as his teeth scraped along your naked body. 

“Your blood tastes like decadent chocolate” Bucky hummed against your hip bone. “I bet your cunt tastes just as sweet.” 

He ripped away your soaked panties then spread your thighs wide apart. His lips mouthed against the delicate skin of your inner thighs. You knew there were some crucial arteries there and you wondered how much it would hurt when he bit into one. 

But he didn’t. Instead, Bucky kissed further up. He licked the seam between your thigh and cunt, then traced your outer lips with his tongue. 

It was atop your mound, a breath away from your clit, where he slowly, torturously slow, sunk his teeth in. 

You screamed and he held you down.

He didn’t suck your blood right away, but pulled back and watched it trickle down onto your glistening pussy. Dark red juice dripped down your clit and between your swollen folds. 

Bucky dove in. Feasting on your cunt with reverence and hunger he didn’t display before. He licked your blood and your slick, mixed them on you and on his tongue. His growling, near animalistic sounds vibrated against your sensitive core. 

He made you come while he made you bleed. Licking and swallowing your wetness; holding your hips down in his strong grip as your body twisted and writhed in pleasure-and-pain. 

Then he drew another blinding climax out of you, driving two of his ringed fingers into your sopping cunt and at the same time sinking his teeth back into the open bite atop your mound. 

He closed your wound, but didn’t wipe away the blood as he kissed up your body. When he bit your breast, he let the blood drip down the swell of it, too, before licking it off your skin in tantalizing, sensual strokes. 

You hurt from the bites, but Bucky’s mouth and touch brought you so much exquisite pleasure. 

He drank from both your breasts, smudging your blood all over his mouth as he kissed your skin through the ruby mess. Closed the wounds with a teasing lick of his tongue, before flicking it against your hardened nipple and sucking on it so hard you felt that suck on your clit. 

“You’re delicious, sweetling.” Bucky rasped against your ear. “And such a good girl for me.” 

You felt the nudge of his cock between your folds. Your hips rocked up eagerly, but your weakened arms drew between your bodies to push him away.

Sensations were overwhelming. You feared that your brain might completely shut down, if Bucky added to it the stretch of his cock and ripping pleasure of being fucked. 

Gently, he pried your hands away from his chest and placed your arms next to your head on the mattress. He pinned them down as he rolled his hips into you. 

“Gotta do it, sweetling,” he hushed your mewls. “Gotta break your body before sunrise, so your mind starts to learn to sleep all through the sunny day.” 

“It’ll take weeks to fully break you.” Bucky sneaked one of his hands between your bodies, to guide his cock into your entrance. “I’ll exhaust you over and over again, until your body conditions itself to shutting down with sunlight and waking up at sunset. Until you’re molded to me.” 

Your lips parted on a strained moan as he slowly penetrated you. 

Just like you suspected, Bucky drove his cock into you with a firm, steady stroke, just like he sunk his teeth into your skin. 

As his dick stretched your pussy, Bucky kissed you. Sensual and languid. Getting you drunk on his lips and taste like the most potent wine. He welcomed your yielding moan with a victorious growl.

Then, as the head of his cock nestled against your cervix and he bottomed out, Bucky’s fangs dipped into your lips. 

You clenched around him, your body tensing like a cord as he drew blood from your mouth. He sipped on you, forcing some of the metallic sweetness of your own blood onto your tongue. 

Bucky soothed your lips with a swipe of his tongue, before lifting his weight on his forearms. He looked down at you - all dark, ruthless beauty of him, with eyes glinting winter storm and mouth red with your blood. 

There were smudges of red on his torso, as well, from where his body pressed into the bloody mess he created as he drank from various spots on your chest and belly. 

“You already take me so well and feed me so sweetly,” he said, licking remnants of your taste off his bottom lip, “you’ll learn to take all the pleasure and pain I give you. And someday you’ll take my blood and I’ll show you what ecstasy of a vampire feels like.”

With that he withdrew, only to slam back in a hard snap. Your body jolted, your back arching. 

You were so weak, so lightheaded. Exhaustion was pulling you into darkness. But the way Bucky was fucking you bursted through that dark with fireworks. His name was a broken cry on your lips, so soft it may have been a whisper. Or a prayer. 

“I deliberately had the sheets changed to white.” Bucky mused, driving into you harder, making your legs jerk helplessly with each thrust of his hips. 

“Wanted to see the stains from your cum and blood on it. You make such a pretty mess.”

Your consciousness drifted away completely after he tipped you into another orgasm, relishing in the way you screamed and clenched around him. Your body was boneless as he chased his own release, groaning it not soon after you floated into sleep. 

To him you looked most beautiful: spread out on the crumpled sheets, your body smeared with blood and bearing marks of his bite. Stains of red and acidic wetness splattered the sheets between your legs. 

Bucky leaned down, one more time biting into your mound. A shallow wound this time. Just so he could watch your blood slowly trickle down in a thin stream and mix with his cum dripping out of your fluttering pussy.

You remained unconscious when he cleaned you up. As well when he ripped away soiled sheets and replaced them with a set of fresh ones and climbed into bed next to you. He held you in his embrace as you slept through the day that stretched outside; heavy, black-out curtains preventing a single sunray from sneaking inside. 

When you’d wake up late in the afternoon, Bucky was going to provide you with a hearty meal and adequate vitamins. He’d tell you more of the rules. Then he’d break your body again. 

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

Dangerous Woman

Mob Boss!Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Word Count: 6.9K

Summary: You're just a bartender until Natasha Romanoff walks into your life.

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, alludes to sex, mentions of knives, mob life, mentions of vom*t

Authors notes: After making this moodboard I had this idea

You loved the rhythm of the restaurant’s evening rush. The clinking of glasses, the murmur of conversations, the occasional burst of laughter—it was a symphony that you had grown to cherish. As the bartender at one of the city’s most upscale establishments, you prided yourself on knowing the regulars, remembering their favorite drinks, and always being ready with a warm smile and a listening ear.

Tonight, the restaurant was especially busy. The soft glow of chandeliers cast a golden light over the elegantly dressed patrons, and the rich scent of gourmet dishes filled the air. You moved with practiced ease behind the bar, mixing cocktails, pouring wine, and engaging in light banter with the guests.

Your colleagues often joked about your ability to handle even the most demanding customers with grace. It was a skill that had earned you a reputation among the clientele and the respect of your fellow staff. But beneath your composed exterior, you couldn’t shake the feeling that tonight was different. There was an electricity in the air, an anticipation that you couldn’t quite place.

As you polished a glass, your eyes drifted to the entrance just in time to see a striking woman step inside. She was tall, impeccably dressed in a tailored suit that exuded sophistication and power. Her auburn hair was styled to perfection, and her sharp green eyes scanned the room with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine.

Natasha Romanoff, you realized with a start. The name was whispered in certain circles with a mix of reverence and fear. She was the heiress to the infamous Red Guardian’s empire, known for her ruthless efficiency and unyielding control over her domain. You had never expected to see her in person, let alone at your bar.

Natasha’s gaze lingered on you for a moment before she made her way to a secluded table where a nervous-looking man awaited her. As she sat down, you couldn’t help but feel her eyes on you every so often, a piercing gaze that made your pulse quicken.

You tried to focus on your work, but your mind kept drifting back to her. What could bring someone like Natasha Romanoff here? And why did it feel like she was watching you so intently?

Your thoughts were interrupted by a soft chime from the bar. A customer was waiting. You turned your attention back to your duties, pushing aside the questions that swirled in your mind.

Time seemed to blur as the evening wore on. The restaurant’s ambiance, the steady stream of orders, and the occasional glance toward Natasha’s table kept you occupied. But you couldn’t ignore the growing sense of anticipation, the feeling that something significant was about to happen.

It wasn’t long before Natasha rose from her table, her conversation with the client seemingly concluded. She walked with an air of purpose toward the bar, her eyes locking onto yours. The room seemed to hush as she approached, the weight of her presence palpable.

“Good evening,” she said, her voice smooth and commanding. “I’d like your highest-priced bottle of red wine.”

You nodded, trying to steady your nerves as you reached for the exclusive bottle kept in the back for such occasions. “Of course, ma’am,” you replied, setting the bottle and a glass in front of her. “This is our finest vintage.”

Natasha’s lips curled into a faint smile as she watched you pour. “You have a good eye for quality,” she remarked, taking the glass and swirling the wine before taking a sip. “What’s your name?”

You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of her gaze. “It’s Y/N”

“Y/N,” she repeated, as if testing how it felt on her tongue. “A pleasure to meet you. I’m Natasha.”

The name sent a shiver down your spine. It confirmed what you had suspected, but there was a gentleness in her tone that caught you off guard. “Nice to meet you too, Natasha.”

She leaned closer, her eyes never leaving yours. “Tell me, Y/N, how does someone like you end up working in a place like this?”

You hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal. “I enjoy meeting new people and making their nights a little brighter. Plus, I’ve always had a passion for mixing drinks.”

Natasha’s smile widened slightly, a hint of amusement in her eyes. “A passion for mixing drinks and making people happy. That’s a rare combination.”

She took another sip of her wine, her gaze thoughtful. “I have a feeling we’ll be seeing more of each other, Y/N.”

You nodded, unsure of what to say, but feeling a strange sense of anticipation. As Natasha returned to her table, you couldn’t shake the feeling that your life had just taken a turn, one that would lead you deeper into her world.

=========

And see her again you did. It didn't take long, in fact. As you walked back to your apartment after that fateful encounter, the night air was cool and quiet, a stark contrast to the bustling energy of the restaurant. The streets were mostly empty, save for the occasional pedestrian or car passing by. You pulled your jacket tighter around yourself, your thoughts lingering on the enigmatic woman who had unexpectedly captured your attention.

You were lost in your thoughts when you heard footsteps behind you, quickening in pace. Two men rounded the corner, their faces shadowed in the dim streetlights. They called out to you, their voices laced with a confidence you recognized all too well. Working as a bartender, you had grown accustomed to unwanted advances, even in the upscale environment of your workplace. The wealthy often believed their status and money could win you over, but they were always wrong.

One of the men stepped closer, his words slurred and suggestive. You stiffened, preparing yourself to handle the situation as you always did. But before you could speak, a familiar voice cut through the night.

"That's enough," Natasha's voice was cold and commanding, a dangerous edge to it that made the men freeze. She stepped out of the shadows, her presence immediately imposing.

The man who had been speaking turned to her, annoyance flickering in his eyes. "Listen, bitch, stay—" His words died in his throat as recognition dawned on his face. "The Red Guardian's daughter... The Black Widow..."

The name hung in the air, heavy with unspoken implications. The color drained from the men's faces as they realized just who they were dealing with. Without another word, they turned and bolted, disappearing into the night as quickly as they had appeared.

Natasha watched them go, her expression unreadable. Then, she turned to you, her gaze softening. She closed the distance between you with a few quick strides, her cool hands gently cupping your cheeks. The touch was unexpected, but strangely comforting. You could still smell the faint scent of the wine she had sipped earlier, mingling with the subtle notes of mint that came off her. The combination made your head spin, your heart racing in your chest.

"Are you alright?" she asked, her voice softer now, laced with concern. Her thumbs gently brushed against your skin, grounding you in the reality of the moment.

You nodded, your voice barely a whisper. "Yeah, I’m okay. Thank you."

Natasha’s eyes softened further, a small smile playing on her lips. "You shouldn’t have to deal with people like that," she murmured, her tone protective. "Let me walk you home."

It wasn’t a request; it was a gentle command, and you found yourself unable to refuse. There was something undeniably captivating about her, a mixture of strength and vulnerability that drew you in.

=======

Instead of Natasha walking you home, you found yourself in her sleek black car, the city lights fading behind you as she drove you out of the bustling downtown area. The ride was quiet, the air filled with an unspoken tension, your mind racing with a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. You tried to piece together the events that had led you here, but the answers eluded you. All you knew was that you were headed to Natasha Romanoff's home, and that fact alone left you both exhilarated and anxious.

The drive seemed to stretch on, each mile taking you further from the familiar streets you knew. Finally, the car slowed and turned onto a private driveway. You gazed out the window, your eyes widening as a grand mansion came into view, nestled amidst lush, manicured gardens. The imposing structure was a blend of modern and classic architecture, exuding an air of sophistication and power that mirrored Natasha herself.

As the car came to a stop, your breath hitched. The sheer size and elegance of the mansion made your jaw drop. It was a far cry from the modest apartment you called home. Natasha stepped out of the car and walked around to your side, opening the door for you with a small, reassuring smile. You stepped out, feeling the cool night air against your skin, and followed her up the grand steps to the entrance.

The door opened before you could reach for it, revealing a pair of neatly dressed maids who greeted Natasha with polite nods. They took her coat and scarf, their movements quick and efficient. Natasha slipped off her jacket, revealing the burgundy shirt she wore underneath. She loosened her tie and unbuttoned the top few buttons of her shirt, revealing a hint of her cleavage. The sight made your mouth and throat go dry, a sudden wave of heat rushing through you. The contrast between her commanding presence and the subtle glimpse of vulnerability left you speechless.

Natasha glanced over at you, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Welcome to my home," she said, her voice smooth and inviting. She gestured for you to follow her inside, her hand resting lightly on your lower back as she guided you through the grand foyer. The interior was just as impressive as the exterior—high ceilings, marble floors, and an array of tasteful art pieces adorning the walls. It was a place that spoke of wealth and status, yet felt oddly intimate.

As you walked further into the mansion, you noticed the staff bustling about, all moving with a quiet efficiency. It was clear that everything and everyone here existed to serve Natasha's needs and desires. You couldn’t help but feel a pang of nervousness, wondering how you had ended up in such a situation. It felt surreal, like you were living a dream—or perhaps a fantasy you hadn't even known you had.

Natasha led you into a cozy sitting room, its walls lined with bookshelves and soft, plush furniture. She motioned for you to sit on a comfortable sofa, then poured herself a glass of red wine from a decanter on a nearby table. She poured a second glass and handed it to you, her eyes never leaving yours. The gesture was both casual and intimate, a reminder of the connection that had sparked between you earlier in the evening.

As you took the glass, your fingers brushed against hers, sending a jolt of electricity through you. Natasha settled into an armchair across from you, her posture relaxed yet commanding. She took a sip of her wine, her gaze thoughtful.

"So," she began, her voice low and smooth. "How does it feel to be here, in my home?" There was a teasing glint in her eyes, but also a genuine curiosity.

You swallowed hard, trying to find your voice. "It's... breathtaking," you managed to say, your eyes flickering around the room before settling back on her. "I never expected to end up in a place like this. With you."

Natasha's lips curved into a small smile, and she leaned forward slightly, her eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart race. "I didn't expect it either," she admitted, her voice softening. "But here we are."

There was a pause, a charged silence that hung in the air between you. You felt the weight of the moment, the unspoken possibilities that seemed to shimmer in the space between you. Natasha's presence was intoxicating, her allure undeniable. As she studied you, you couldn’t help but wonder what she saw in you, and what she had planned for the night.

Before either of you could continue the conversation, the two of you were interrupted by the sound of a door swinging open. A blonde woman with a thick Russian accent burst into the den, her presence as commanding as Natasha's. Her eyes were a piercing blue, and she carried herself with a confidence that suggested she was no stranger to dangerous situations.

"Sestra! I took care of To—" she began, her voice trailing off as she noticed you sitting there. A look of surprise crossed her face, quickly followed by suspicion. Her eyes narrowed, scanning you with a critical gaze before she turned her attention back to Natasha. Her expression softened slightly, but a hint of curiosity remained.

"Сестра, кто это?" the blonde asked, her voice low and questioning.

Natasha glanced at you briefly, her lips curving into a small, reassuring smile before she turned to address the woman. She responded in Russian, her tone calm and composed, "Это Y/N, одна из новых знакомых. Не волнуйся, всё под контролем." (This is Y/N, one of my new acquaintances. Don't worry, everything is under control.)

The blonde raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by the situation. Her eyes flicked back to you, a hint of a smirk playing on her lips. "Знакомых, да?" (Acquaintances, huh?) she replied, her tone teasing yet inquisitive. She leaned against the doorframe, crossing her arms over her chest. "Интересно. Очень интересно." (Interesting. Very interesting.)

Natasha chuckled softly, shaking her head. "Успокойся, Елена. Мы просто общаемся." (Calm down, Yelena. We're just communicating.) She turned to you, switching to English with ease. "This is my sister, Yelena. She tends to be a bit... protective."

Yelena smirked, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "A bit? That's an understatement." She pushed off the doorframe and approached, extending a hand toward you. "Nice to meet you, Y/N. I've heard... well, nothing about you," she joked, her tone lightening the atmosphere.

You shook her hand, feeling a bit overwhelmed by the sudden shift in the room's dynamics. "Nice to meet you too, Yelena," you managed, trying to keep up with the rapid changes in conversation.

Yelena nodded, her gaze lingering on you for a moment longer before she turned back to Natasha. "I didn't mean to interrupt. I just wanted to let you know everything's taken care of." She paused, a more serious expression crossing her face. "But we should talk later."

Natasha nodded, her expression thoughtful. "Of course. We'll catch up in a bit."

With that, Yelena gave you one last curious glance before making her way out of the room, leaving you alone with Natasha once more. The interruption had brought a new energy into the space, a reminder of the world Natasha inhabited—a world that was clearly more complicated and dangerous than you had initially realized.

As the door closed behind Yelena, Natasha turned her attention back to you, her expression softening. "Sorry about that," she said with a small sigh. "My sister can be a bit... overbearing at times. But she's good at what she does." She took another sip of her wine, her eyes locking onto yours once more. "Now, where were we?"

"So that's your sister, which means she's the White Widow?" you asked, your voice betraying a hint of nervousness. The realization hit you that you were in the presence of not just one but two of the most formidable figures in the city's underworld. Natasha nodded, her expression unreadable as she sipped her wine.

"Yes, she is," Natasha confirmed, her tone matter-of-fact. She set her glass down, leaning back in her chair with an air of casual authority. "But enough about that part of my life," she continued, her voice deepening and becoming gravelly. The sound sent a shiver through you, resonating with a magnetic pull that made your pulse quicken.

Natasha's eyes bore into yours, her gaze intent and focused. "I want to know more about you." Her words were not just a request but an invitation, laced with a curiosity that seemed to cut through the haze of the evening.

You felt the warmth of the wine spreading through your system, your head starting to swim. The rich, velvety taste lingered on your tongue, mingling with the intoxicating presence of the woman before you. The room felt warmer, the air heavier with unspoken tension.

You swallowed, trying to steady your thoughts. "There's not much to tell," you began, feeling a bit self-conscious under her intense scrutiny. "I'm just a bartender, working to make ends meet. I've been at the restaurant for a few years now, and I guess I've gotten good at reading people. But my life... it's pretty ordinary compared to yours."

Natasha's lips curled into a small smile, a soft chuckle escaping her. "Ordinary? I find that hard to believe," she murmured, her voice low and smooth. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees, her hands clasped together. "You must have seen and heard a lot from behind that bar. People's true selves often come out after a few drinks. It's a unique perspective."

Her words made you feel exposed, as if she could see right through you. The weight of her attention was both thrilling and terrifying. You took a deep breath, trying to focus on the moment. "I suppose you're right," you admitted. "It's interesting, observing people and their stories. But I never expected to find myself in a situation like this."

Natasha's eyes sparkled with amusement. "Life has a way of surprising us, doesn't it?" She reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair away from your face. The touch was light, almost tender, but it sent a jolt of electricity through you. "You're intriguing, [Your Name]. There's more to you than meets the eye."

Her words hung in the air, filled with a promise that made your heart race. You could feel the pull between you, the magnetic connection that seemed to draw you closer despite the differences in your worlds. The room felt smaller, the space between you charged with an intensity that was impossible to ignore.

You blamed it on the alcohol when you leaned forward, your inhibitions slipping away with every sip of wine. The world around you blurred, leaving only Natasha's piercing green eyes and the intoxicating allure of her presence. It felt almost surreal, like a dream you never wanted to end.

Before you could second-guess yourself, you closed the distance between you and pressed your lips to hers. The kiss was soft at first, tentative, as if testing the waters. Natasha responded immediately, her lips warm and inviting against yours. The initial contact sent a thrill through your body, igniting a spark that quickly flared into a flame.

You also blamed the alcohol for the boldness with which she pulled you into her lap, her strong hands guiding you effortlessly. You settled onto her, straddling her thighs, your fingers tangling in her hair as the kiss deepened. Natasha's arms wrapped around your waist, holding you close as her lips moved against yours with a hunger that matched your own.

The taste of the wine lingered on her lips, mingling with the heady sensation of being so close to her. Her hands roamed over your back, firm yet gentle, sending shivers down your spine. You felt her tongue brush against your lips, seeking entrance, and you parted them willingly, allowing her to explore further. The kiss became more passionate, more desperate, as if both of you were trying to drown in each other.

Natasha's touch was intoxicating, and the way she held you made you feel wanted, desired. Your hands trailed down to the open collar of her shirt, your fingers brushing against the smooth skin of her chest. The contact drew a soft moan from her, a sound that only spurred you on.

You couldn't tell if it was the wine or the intensity of the moment, but everything felt heightened. The heat of her body against yours, the taste of her lips, the scent of her, mint—it all blended together, creating a heady mix that made your head spin. The room seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you lost in the kiss.

For a moment, nothing else mattered. Not the grandeur of her mansion, not the complexity of her life, and certainly not the consequences of your actions. It was just you and Natasha, caught in a whirlwind of passion and desire.

Lost in the intoxicating heat of the moment, you barely noticed when Natasha effortlessly lifted you from her lap. Her strength surprised you, but there was something undeniably alluring about being in her arms, your bodies pressed close as she carried you with ease. Your lips left hers only to trail a series of kisses down her neck, tasting the warmth of her skin. You felt the rapid beat of her pulse under your lips, a testament to the shared urgency between you.

As she ascended the grand staircase, your mouth continued its exploration, planting soft kisses along the curve of her neck. You nipped at her skin, leaving a trail of marks in your wake. Natasha's breath hitched, a low growl escaping her throat, the sound sending a thrill through you. The world outside faded away, leaving only the two of you and the heady mix of desire that consumed you both.

Natasha carried you through the elegantly decorated hallways, the grandeur of her home barely registering in your haze. All you could focus on was the feel of her body against yours, the scent of mint making you dizzy, and the electric connection that pulsed between you.

The journey felt both like an eternity and a blink of an eye. You were vaguely aware of the doors she passed through, the soft click of them closing behind her. Finally, she carried you into a spacious bedroom, the décor understated yet luxurious, a testament to her refined taste. The bed, large and inviting, became the focal point of the room.

Natasha gently laid you down on the plush bed, her eyes dark with desire as she leaned over you. Her fingers brushed over the marks you'd left on her neck, a smirk playing on her lips. "Leaving your mark, are we?" she teased, her voice a low purr that sent a shiver down your spine.

You bit your lip, feeling a mix of exhilaration and anticipation. "Couldn't help myself," you replied, your voice breathless. Your fingers reached out, tracing the line of her jaw, feeling the smoothness of her skin. The intimacy of the moment was overwhelming, every touch and glance charged with an intensity that made your heart race.

Natasha's eyes softened, a warmth in them that belied her usual cool demeanor. She leaned down, capturing your lips in another searing kiss, her hands sliding up your sides with a possessive urgency. The world outside ceased to exist as you lost yourselves in each other, a tangle of limbs and whispered breaths. The night stretched out before you, filled with the promise of more to come, a whirlwind of passion and discovery that neither of you were eager to escape.

===========

When you awoke the next morning, a dull throb echoed in your head, and the unfamiliar comfort of the sheets around you registered as too luxurious to be your own. You blinked groggily, only to wince as the bright light streaming through the windows made your vision pulse with pain. Quickly, you covered your eyes with your hand, slowly adjusting to the brightness. As you squinted them back open, the unfamiliar surroundings reminded you that you weren't home.

The events of the previous night came rushing back, a blend of passionate moments and stolen touches with Natasha. You looked around the room, taking in the elegant décor and the subtle scent of mint lingering in the air. It was a beautiful, well-appointed space, clearly reflecting her refined taste. As your eyes landed on the bedside table, you noticed a glass of water and a small bottle of medicine. Next to them lay a folded note. Curiosity piqued, you reached for the note and unfolded it, a small smile tugging at your lips as you read the familiar handwriting.

"I'm down the hall in my office. I wanted to let you sleep. Feel free to put on the clothes on the chair in the corner. I had someone go out and buy them for you this morning. I hope I got your sizes right. -Tasha"

The gesture was thoughtful, and it made your heart flutter. Natasha had clearly thought about your comfort, even after the whirlwind of the previous night. You set the note down and took the medicine with a grateful sip of water, hoping it would help ease the headache pounding in your skull. The cool liquid was refreshing, and you felt a little more awake as you placed the empty glass back on the table.

With a deep breath, you swung your legs over the side of the bed and stood up. The room spun slightly, but you steadied yourself, making your way to the chair in the corner. Draped over it was a set of neatly folded clothes, clearly new. You ran your fingers over the fabric, appreciating the soft, high-quality material. Natasha had taken the time to ensure you would be comfortable and well-dressed, a gesture that felt both intimate and considerate.

You quickly changed into the clothes, finding that they fit perfectly, as if tailored just for you. As you dressed, you couldn't help but feel a mixture of excitement and nervousness about seeing Natasha again. The events of the night before felt like a dream, and you were eager to see what the day would bring. You smoothed down the clothes, took a deep breath, and prepared to step out of the room, ready to face whatever awaited you beyond the door.

You checked yourself out in the mirror with a smile, appreciating how well the outfit suited you. The red plaid pleated skirt paired with the tight black long-sleeved V-neck was a bit more daring than your usual style, but it felt exciting. The addition of the thick thigh-high stockings added a playful touch, making you feel both confident and alluring. Satisfied with your appearance, you left the room and headed out into the hallway.

Upon spotting one of the maids, you politely asked for directions to Natasha's office. She nodded and led you there quietly, stopping in front of a dark wooden door from which Natasha's voice could be heard. The maid gave you a small nod, and you took a deep breath before opening the door.

As you entered, Natasha's eyes immediately found you, and a warm smile spread across her face. She gestured for you to come closer, her gaze filled with an appreciative gleam. You quietly made your way over, and once you were within reach, Natasha's arm snaked around your waist, pulling you onto her lap. The unexpected closeness made your heart race, and you bit your lip to suppress any noises as she subtly squeezed your thighs like a stress ball. The smirk on her face told you she was enjoying every moment of your reaction.

Natasha continued her conversation on the phone, her tone authoritative and calm. You sat there, trying to maintain your composure as her hands roamed over you, seemingly innocent but filled with intent. When she finally hung up the phone, she turned her full attention to you, her eyes raking over your body with an appreciative gaze.

"You look amazing, darling," Natasha murmured, her hands wandering over your curves, taking in every detail of your outfit. Her touch was possessive, yet gentle, as if she were savoring the moment.

You raised an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at your lips. "I'm assuming you picked this out for a reason? Is this how you like to dress your girls?" you asked, teasing her a bit.

Natasha's eyes sparkled with amusement, and she leaned back slightly, her hands still resting on your hips. "And boys," she added with a knowing grin. "What can I say? A cute little thing in a plaid skirt and tight shirt, all for me to see? It's a look I can't resist."

Her eyes wandered over you again, this time lingering on your chest. The intensity of her gaze made you feel a delightful mix of bashfulness and excitement. Natasha's admiration was palpable, and you couldn't help but feel flattered by her attention. It was clear she enjoyed the power dynamics at play, and you were more than willing to play along.

=====

As much as you were enjoying the attention from the city's most powerful and intimidating figure, a nagging doubt crept into your mind. It felt surreal, almost too good to be true. You couldn't shake the feeling that there had to be some sort of catch, something you were missing.

"Why me?" The question slipped out quietly, almost a whisper. The moment the words left your lips, you regretted it, feeling vulnerable and exposed. You kept your eyes down, afraid of what her reaction might be.

Natasha's hand gently lifted your chin, guiding your gaze to meet hers. Her expression wasn't harsh or intimidating, as you had feared. Instead, her eyes held a softness, a tenderness that caught you off guard. It was like looking into a tranquil meadow in Spring, calm and reassuring.

"Y/N, look at me," she repeated softly, her voice steady and sincere. "I took one look at you and knew I had to have you. If you had said no to anything, I would have left you alone. I would never make you do anything, понимать?" She asked, the last word rolling off her tongue in Russian, a language that sounded both beautiful and mysterious to your ears.

You weren't entirely sure what the word meant, but you repeated it back as best as you could, the unfamiliar syllables feeling awkward in your mouth. "Понимать," you echoed, sounding more like a child trying to mimic a word. Natasha's smile widened, clearly amused by your effort.

"It means 'understand,'" she explained, her voice warm and patient. You nodded, feeling a little more at ease.

"Capeesh," you replied with a playful smile, borrowing the phrase you knew from movies. Natasha's laugh rang out, a genuine, hearty sound that filled the room. It was infectious, and soon you found yourself laughing along with her, the tension from moments before melting away.

Natasha's laughter was a reminder that, despite her fearsome reputation, she was still human. In that moment, you felt a connection with her that went beyond the intimidating aura she carried. There was a genuine care in her words, a desire to reassure you and make you feel safe. It was a side of her that few probably ever got to see, and you felt privileged to witness it.

====

The following night, the bar was alive with energy, buzzing with the usual Friday night crowd. It was one of your busiest nights, and you thrived in the chaos, moving effortlessly behind the bar in a cropped top and booty shorts. The outfit, while bold, was a practical choice for the heat and energy of the night, and it certainly helped rake in tips from regulars and wealthy patrons alike. You danced and sang along with the music, mixing and pouring drinks with a flair that captivated everyone around you.

As the night went on, you caught sight of Natasha entering the bar. Her presence was impossible to miss; she exuded an aura of authority and elegance even in a crowded, lively place like this. Her eyes locked onto you, and for a moment, you felt a thrill of excitement. However, you quickly noticed a flicker of something darker in her gaze—jealousy, perhaps, or possessiveness.

Before you could fully process it, Natasha made her way through the crowd, her expression set and unreadable. She reached the bar and, without a second thought, grabbed your arm and pulled you away from the counter. The abruptness of her actions caught you off guard, and for a moment, the noise of the bar faded into the background.

You stood your ground, pulling your arm free from her grip. Natasha's eyes bore into yours, a mix of frustration and something else you couldn't quite place. But you didn't back down; this was your space, your job, and you weren't about to let anyone, not even her, dictate your actions here.

"This is my job," you said firmly, your voice cutting through the tension. "This pays my bills. I know what I'm doing, Tasha. Don't think I'm gonna change just because you've walked into my life."

The words hung in the air, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. Natasha's expression softened slightly, her initial anger giving way to a more thoughtful look. She seemed to consider your words, her eyes searching yours for understanding.

After a beat, Natasha sighed, her shoulders relaxing as she nodded. "I understand," she finally said, her voice calmer. "I just... I don't want anyone else looking at you the way I do."

You couldn't help but smile at her admission, a warmth spreading through you. "They can look all they want," you replied with a playful wink. "But that doesn't mean they get to touch."

Natasha's lips curved into a small smile, a hint of relief in her eyes. "Fair enough," she conceded, her tone lightening. She leaned in, her voice low and intimate. "But don't be surprised if I get a little protective. I can't help it."

You chuckled, the tension between you easing. "As long as you remember that I can handle myself," you teased, leaning closer. "Besides, it's fun making them think they have a chance."

Natasha smirked, her hand brushing against your arm in a subtle, reassuring gesture. "You're something else, you know that?" she murmured, her eyes twinkling with a mix of admiration and affection.

With that, she released you, letting you return to your work. You felt a sense of satisfaction, knowing that you had stood your ground and asserted your independence. As you went back to serving drinks and entertaining the crowd, you caught Natasha watching you from the corner of your eye.

As the night began to wind down, the usual chaos of closing time set in. Patrons stumbled out, leaving behind a mix of laughter and lingering energy. You were busy behind the bar when a particularly drunk guy decided to try his luck, getting handsy in a way that made your skin crawl. Before Natasha could even react, your reflexes kicked in. With a swift motion, you pulled out a small knife from under the bar and slammed it down between the man's fingers. The blade glinted in the dim light, the threat unmistakable.

"Try that again, and you won't just be losing a finger," you warned, your voice flat and devoid of emotion. The man froze, his eyes widening in fear as he registered the seriousness of your tone. The reality of the situation must have hit him hard, as his face paled, and he turned his head to vomit beside him.

You rolled your eyes, exasperated by the mess. "Buck! Clean up, please!" you called out. Bucky, your coworker and the bar's bouncer, quickly stepped in, escorting the stumbling man out while one of the busboys hurried over to clean up the mess. You wiped down the counter, your expression cool and unbothered, as if this was just another night on the job.

Natasha, who had been observing the scene from a distance, made her way over, leaning against the bar with a smirk playing on her lips. You sauntered over, mirroring her posture as you leaned in close. Her eyes were darker than usual, stormy like a spring day brewing with tension and excitement.

"That was hot. I didn't think you were capable of something like that," Natasha's voice was husky, laced with admiration and a hint of surprise.

You chuckled softly, the sound low and confident. "I used to work in a dive bar before this. I learned how to defend myself. I don't even blink at it anymore," you replied, a lithe confidence in your voice. You leaned in closer, your lips brushing against hers in a teasing kiss. "I've just gotta grab my tips and count the drawer, and then I am all yours, Tasha," you murmured, a smirk playing on your lips as you pulled away.

The effect you had on Natasha was palpable, and the realization sent a thrill through you. She, the mob boss and infamous Black Widow, was visibly affected by your confidence and composure. The power dynamic between you was complex, a thrilling dance of control and attraction that neither of you could resist. As you moved to finish your tasks, you couldn't help but glance back at her, catching the hungry look in her eyes. It was clear that the night was far from over, and you both knew it.

As the night drew to a close, you finished up your duties behind the bar, efficiently counting the drawer and gathering your tips. The room was clearing out, leaving behind the quiet hum of a few lingering patrons and the soft clinking of glasses being cleaned. Natasha waited patiently, her eyes never leaving you, an enigmatic smile on her lips. The air between you crackled with unspoken promises and an undeniable connection.

Once everything was settled, you slipped out from behind the bar and walked over to Natasha. Without a word, she extended her hand, and you took it, feeling the warmth of her touch. The two of you left the bar, stepping into the cool night air. The drive to her mansion was quiet, filled with a charged silence that spoke volumes. You could feel the anticipation building, both of you eager for what was to come.

Back at her luxurious home, the door barely closed behind you before Natasha's lips were on yours, a passionate kiss that left you breathless. The power she usually wielded so effortlessly seemed to dissipate as she melted into you, her hands gripping your hips with a mix of need and vulnerability. You pulled away gently, looking into her eyes with a commanding intensity that made her shiver.

"Let me take control tonight," you whispered, your voice steady and confident. Natasha nodded, her gaze softening with trust and submission. It was a rare sight, seeing the formidable Black Widow willing to relinquish control, and it filled you with a sense of responsibility and power. You guided her to the bedroom, your movements assured and deliberate.

The night unfolded with a new dynamic. Natasha, always in control, allowed herself to be vulnerable, letting you take the lead. It was an intimate, tender exchange, a dance where you set the rhythm, and she followed. The shift in power felt natural, something both of you needed. For Natasha, it was a chance to let go of the burdens of leadership and dominance, to simply feel and be taken care of. For you, it was an opportunity to assert yourself, to embrace the power and control you often kept in check.

Afterward, you lay together in the quiet of her bedroom. The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of the city lights filtering through the windows. You held Natasha in your arms, her head resting on your chest, her breathing steady and calm. It was a serene moment, a quiet intimacy that spoke of trust and understanding.

Natasha broke the silence, her voice soft and earnest. "Stay with me," she said, lifting her head to look at you. Her eyes searched yours, vulnerable and hopeful. "I want you to stay with me. Not just tonight, but... longer. Let me take care of you, treat you right. I'll make sure nothing ever happens to you."

Her words were filled with sincerity, and you could see the depth of her feelings in her gaze. It wasn't just a simple request; it was a promise, a commitment. Natasha, who always seemed so self-assured and in control, was offering you a piece of her heart, opening herself up in a way few ever got to see.

You smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "I'd like that," you replied, your voice warm and tender. "I want to stay with you, Natasha."

A smile spread across her lips, genuine and full of relief. She leaned in, capturing your lips in a gentle kiss, a silent agreement sealed with affection. As you held her close, you both knew this was just the beginning of something deeper, something real. It was a new chapter, a chance to explore a relationship built on mutual respect, trust, and love.

In that quiet moment, wrapped in each other's arms, you both felt a sense of peace and fulfillment. Natasha had found someone she could trust to take control when needed, and you had found a place where you could be both strong and cherished. It was a perfect balance, a harmony that promised a future full of possibilities. As you drifted off to sleep, you knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, you would face them together.

[canmom]

"don't post links to pirate sites" as a security through obscurity strategy seems... weak. if a pirate site is so obscure that almost nobody can find it, it's also essentially pointless.

but yes, if a pirate site is common knowledge, the feds will be working on destroying it. so the idea is i assume to achieve an intermediate level of obscurity, where you have to have a certain amount of talent for asking the right people or searching the right things to find it. but... whatever capacity for research you are asking people to have on that front, the feds are equally capable of it, and they have a whole lot more time on their hands for tracking down pirate sites! security through obscurity is a losing game for piracy. the perfect sweet spot where people can find your pirate resource but the feds cannot is something of a mirage.

if not that, than what?

the current piracy system involves a few different tiers of accessibility, and various components that are more or less decentralised.

torrents are the most resilient tech because to stamp out a torrent (with DHT enabled) you have to suppress every seed. so, you have big public torrent trackers like TPB; these are well known and rely on hopping domains and redundancy for security. the ratio of seeds to leeches tends to be low, but the number of users is large enough that there will be at least a few seeds out there for most stuff. torrent clients have gotten a lot better at seeding strategies that take into account your seed ratio and what's currently available in the swarm, so if you just leave everything on seed and open your torrent client fairly often (use a VPN though lol), you don't really need to think about it.

then you have private trackers; these operate on an invite basis. the problem with this is that when the pool of users is so small, the odds of a given seed being online are also small. to prevent torrents dying, they gamify it: you get points for seeding and if you don't have enough points you can't download anything until you seed more. to help people get back in the game there will be 'freeleech' events. being active on a private tracker takes a bit of work.

and of course you have to get in in the first place, which tends to require a proven track record of seeding on other private trackers, and some kind of interview with the operators. getting involved in private trackers is a much bigger ask, you have to figure out where to get your foot in the door, and work your way up to the more insular trackers. it's like a mini subculture. it's valuable, but not scalable.

at the top level of inaccessibility is the warez scene. this is a whole subject that i'm not even gonna get into, go read wikipedia. historically this is where the files actually come from, before getting distributed on public trackers, usenet etc. but good luck getting in there lmao, they are understandably quite paranoid.

of course, for stuff to get on pirate sites you need somebody to go the effort of ripping and encoding it. this is where a major point of failure exists. when RarBG went down recently, the biggest loss was not the existing archive of torrent links, which can be backed up - it was that they were very active at converting scene releases into torrents with a decent balance of file size and quality, which then filter out into the various public trackers. that is much harder to replace! but what killed RarBG wasn't even suppression by authorities - according to their statement, it was a bunch of the admins getting covid or dying or fighting in the Russia-Ukraine war, which made the whole operation impossible to continue. so despite the thousands of people who download RarBG torrents, this single point of failure was overstressed and broke.

as far as the ethics of spreading links to pirate sites go... if it's something like a mega drive, yeah, the chances of a takedown are pretty high if it gets noticed! no question. but those things are by nature short-lived; if you want to use that for archival you're building on sand. there's also databases like emuparadise, but there was no saving that through obscurity, it just took Nintendo a minute to bring the case.

in this kind of centralised case, the clock is ticking from day 1. what we want is to maximise the number of people who are able to save copies while it's up, and then some of those people can put it up again somewhere else and keep the authorities playing whack-a-mole. (for a small collection of files, a sensible measure would be to make a torrent and a mega drive side by side, so that people can download the mega drive and then add the torrent to their client to seed if it gets nuked.)

as for torrent sites, the thing is that torrents rely for effectiveness on a swarm that is either very large or very responsible about seeding. if it's a public tracker, it has to be well known or it's pointless. instead of security through obscurity, the form of security for these sites is try to make the resource itself hard to take down - operating the tracker/archive in countries that don't have copyright treaties, maintaining mirrors, and of course distributing as many seeds as possible so the torrent can stay alive even if the site goes down.

the major problem with a dead torrent site is discoverability. if it's harder to find the torrent, fewer people will download it, the existing seeds will gradually go offline, and of course you can't download a torrent that you don't know exists. and while you could imagine a system of broadcasting metadata about a torrent (title, encoding etc.) in a DHT-like way but that would be so vulnerable to fakes and spam. maybe some kind of cryptographically signed 'this torrent is good' declaration is possible? I know certain torrent clients tout discovery features, but honestly I don't know how well they work. I'm sure there are projects that are way ahead of the game than me on this question.

but yeah anyway trying to browbeat people into not sharing links to pirate media is 1. futile, by the time you see it the cat is out of the bag 2. not a sustainable strategy for security. if you wanna lecture people, 'use a VPN and seed your torrents' is evergreen ;p

[longagoitwastuesday]

Still thinking of this guy

I just saw a Gojo-like guy in a store. He was eyeing those purple shampoos for white dyed hair, I think. He had the height and the round glasses and all. It was uncanny, truly like out of the anime. Never had seen someone pull a character's look as well as this guy. I was this 👌 close to approach him and ask him to read Georg Cantor, like a cultist stalker, but fortunately (for him) I was with my mother so I behaved

[chocolatepot]

Hi! Can you elaborate on "Fuck GRRM's committment to 'historical realism' without knowing anything about medieval social history"? I would love to know about what GRRM gets wrong about medieval gender roles, specifically.

So Cersei learns at an early age that she has no agency, her only value is producing heirs and is barred from traditional routes of power so she has to use underhanded methods such as influencing men with sex or using underhanded magical means. I would love an explanation on why this doesn't reflect medieval queen consorts and noble women irl.

Sure! The basic summary is: GRRM "knows" the things that everyone "knows" about the middle ages, which are broad stereotypes often reflective of a) primary sources that deserve a critical reading rather than being taken at face value and b) the judgements of later periods making themselves look better at the medieval period's expense.

As Shiloh Carroll argues, building on the work of Helen Young, “readers are caught in a ‘feedback loop’ in which Martin’s work helps to create a neomedieval idea of the Middle Ages, which then becomes their idea of what the Middle Ages ‘really’ looked like, which is then used to defend Martin’s work as ‘realistic’ because it matches their idea of the real Middle Ages.”

Since you're mainly interested in Cersei here, I'd strongly recommend a book: Queenship and the Women of Westeros: Female Agency and Advice in Game of Thrones and A Song of Ice and Fire, edited by Zita Eva Rohr and Lisa Benz. It's an excellent read and speaks to exactly what you're asking about. The tone of the book is very positive and non-judgemental when it comes to GRRM and his depictions of women on the whole, but I think some of this is rhetorical positioning to not seem like "mean angry academics jumping on fiction for not being accurate," as the actual content turns the reader to thinking about how much agency and power medieval queens had in different European societies and how little of that worked its way into GRRM's worldbuilding.

It's true that women typically didn't inherit titles and thrones in their own right, and that they were usually given in marriage for political/dynastic reasons. However, they weren't seen as brood mares whose only duty was to pop out sons: both queens and noblewomen had roles to play as household managers, counselors, and lieutenants, actively participating in the ruling of their domains and in local and international diplomacy (women in political alliances were not just pawns sent to a powerful man's bed, but were to act as ambassadors for their families and to pass information back and forth), and they had to be raised with an understanding of this so that they could learn to do it. Motherhood was very important, don't get me wrong, but it's a mistake to assume as pop culture does that a wife's foremost duty being to provide heirs for her family meant that she was ONLY seen as a mother/potential mother.

Catelyn is a great example of what was expected of women in these positions. But in the books, Catelyn is basically the only woman who inhabits this role, and the impression given is that she's exceptional, that she's just in charge of the household because she's so great at it that Ned allows her to be his partner, and that he listens to her advice because she happens to be a wise person in his orbit - and also that Ned is exceptional for giving so much power to a woman, because in the world of ASOIAF, it takes an especially good man to do this. In GRRM's view of the medieval world, realpolitik and the accumulation of power are the most important things, so men in Westeros are extremely unlikely to give up any authority to their wives, even though this is historically inaccurate.

Cersei, on the other hand, is supposed to be a more realistic depiction of what would happen to an ambitious medieval woman. There's a chapter titled "Queen of Sad Mischance: Medievalism, “Realism,” and the Case of Cersei Lannister" in the book I've rec'd, and it deals with why this is problematic extremely well. (This is the source of the quote at the top of this post.) In it, Kavita Mudan Finn argues that Cersei embodies pretty much every medieval trope for the illegitimate wielding of power by a woman. She underhandedly gets people killed for opposing her, she seduces men into doing her bidding, she advances her family's interests and her own at the expense of the realm. She's made sympathetic through fannish interpretation and Lena Headey's performance, but in the text she's an evil woman doing evil things. Even when she gets to be regent for her son - a completely legitimate historical position that allowed women to handle the levers of power almost exactly like a king - she continues to do shitty things and not be taken seriously because she's just not good at ruling.

But even before then, from a medieval perspective she had access to completely legitimate power that she didn't use: she'd have had estates giving her a large personal income, religious establishments to patronize (giving her a good reputation as a pious woman and people she'd put in high positions being personally loyal to her), artists and writers to patronize as well, power over her household, men around her listening to her counsel. That she doesn't have that is a reflection of GRRM either deciding these things don't really exist in Westeros in order to make it a worse world than medieval Europe and justify Cersei feeling she had to use underhanded means of power, or not knowing that they were ordinary and unexceptional because he has a good working knowledge of the politics of the Wars of the Roses but little to no knowledge of social history beyond pop culture osmosis, and, imo, little to no interest in actual power dynamics.

There are a lot of books I'd recommend on this subject. There's a series from Palgrave Macmillan called "Queenship and Power" and nearly all the books in it are THE BEST. Theresa Earenfight's Queenship in Medieval Europe is a very readable introduction to the situations of queens in European societies across the continent. She also has a book, Women and Wealth in Late Medieval Europe, that also addresses non-royal women's power. I'm also a huge fan of English Aristocratic Women, 1450-1550: Marriage and Family, Property and Careers, by Barbara Harris, which really emphasizes the "career" aspect of women's lives as administrators and diplomats.

[sirenscriptures]

⋆⭒˚.⋆ angel dust — s. ryomen ⋆｡˚

synopsis: he couldn’t believe the day you’d fallen down into his home. it was such a dark place, filled with such voids that most would consider horrifying. but you…you seemed to brighten up those areas just with your presence alone … 3k

before you read: fem-bodied reader, fallen angel ! reader, kind of counts as monsterfucking??, corruption, breeding, size difference, true form sukuna, soft to rough-ish sex, mainly soft sukuna, some asphyxiation, oral sex, cock worship.

author comments: if you’ve seen this before, don’t fret. this is a reupload from last year that came from my previous blog <3 also, i would greatly appreciate any feedback on this idea. it was very well received on ao3 and i’d love to know what you think of this idea!!

there was a biting cold air spilling throughout the dark, enormous malevolent shrine that evening. it was odd, since the deep marrows and walls of the domain usually seethed with a heat that seemed closest to what hell would feel like.

quiet as usual, his looming figure sat high within the mouth of the gaping shadows that swallowed the entire space. mountains of bones sat him as his throne; rotting and decaying ones piled at the root, whilst the more robust collection of ivory spines and jaws crowned the top.

even if his gaze read otherwise, he knew something strange was circulating. the domain no longer felt as though it could hold him, yet he didn’t know why. where it usually felt so hollow and barren, it now felt heavy, as if there were something weighing directly on its surface.

sukuna could feel the tension slithering up his arms. his usually harrowing eyes were now darting around, frantically checking each and every wall, crevice and shadow like a madman.

however, standing up was worse. immediately as his feet met the surface, a painful spasm rippled through his head, his hand smacking against his forehead in response. following the sudden pain, a high pitched ring bulleted through his ears.

he let out a yowl in reaction, his entire core tensing in near unbearable pain.his body heat felt like it was burning him alive, and the entirety of his muscles felt as though they would cave in on him at any given moment. it was as if his whole body were crumbling away, alike to the bones at the very bottom of his throne.

what in the hell is wrong with me…?

with no time for another thought or exclamation, a sudden, nearly blinding light glistered over his entire vision. it was like a lightning strike when it cracked down upon a tree. but upon the impact, the light expanded outward, casting a permanent coat of shining white over what used to be orifices of shadows.

the light only lasted a few moments before slipping away, the shadows eating at the remaining whiteness casted in the malevolent shrine. but for sukuna, it felt like ages before the piercing brightness faded away.

hiding away his face in the fabric of his robe sleeves, the pain in his body from before had completely vanished. he felt now that he was in one piece, and that everything was mostly back to normal again.

that was, until he looked in front of himself.

in front of him was what looked to be a pile of white sheets strewn about messily into a wrinkled pile.

with him still trying to adjust his eyes from before, it was still a bit of a blur. the flash from before had strongly impacted his vision for a good few moments before he could truly see properly again.

but when his vision did clear, he was certain he’d been hallucinating. his eyes widened as he realized.

in front of him lay an angel…one with battered, gently stained wings. they looked to be twisted, as if they’d been purposely bent and misshapen by cruel hands.

the little clothes that they wore were torn, stained with some sort of black, ash-like debris, as if they’d been caught in some sort of smoke or fire.

now fully adjusted to the sight, he saw the faint, aura-shaped glow that was cast around their body. the dim light shifted in and out of different hues; appearing like the breathing leaves of a tree at one moment, and like ocean waves the next, transcending on and on into different textures and colors in only a matter of minutes.

even for him, the very king of curses, this was a truly mesmerizing sight. in all his time, he couldn’t ever recall encountering a fallen one.

but that didn’t stop him from wondering just how in the world a creature like you had slipped into his domain.

sukuna’s barrier was stronger than any other domains in existence. only he had the power to call upon it when he wished to trap his victims inside of it. no one could get in or out without his calling to it, and that was always how it worked.

truly, it made no sense how you’d landed here. it shouldn’t have been anywhere near possible, but he’d have to face the facts that it was now.

breathing out deeply, whatever soft expression he previously had, he quickly wiped off. whilst admittedly fascinated, sukuna wanted no more unexpected visitors lurking here. it wasn’t worth any risk, even if he could deal with any type of intruder.

walking towards your body, he stared down at you for a moment, pondering. the idea of seeing a real angel so up close, enough to where he could touch it and see all of its features, felt somewhat dangerous to him.

standing so close created ripples of tension in the air, and he could feel it. it was nearly overbearing, to a point where he almost stepped back. but he stood his ground, not wanting to lose this moment.

gently, one of his hands grasped around your shoulder, rolling you onto your back. seeing your face now, it was hard for his eyes not to narrow.

sukuna had never seen something so beautiful. being asleep and trapped in bottomless darkness for years upon years with nothing but gruesome history and deeds, made him realize just how much he failed to see from the world around him.

he knew very well that there was a world outside of his domain where time was constantly working. where lives ended and began within every passing hour. where every single person, organism, ecosystem and cell worked to keep the cycle of living and evolving forever flowing onward, until there would be nothing left but dust floating about an empty space.

did he care for it much? of course not

out there, he was feared. the very syllables of his name invoked terror into any normal human that lived today. and that didn’t bother him in the slightest. it was a title that contributed to who he truly was: the king of curses.

but this moment that lay in front of him felt much different than just the outside world. just by looking at you, it was clear you falling down here carried much more volume than if a regular human were to fall into his domain.

it was when he began to pull you into his arms that your eyes flicked open. being cradled within four arms was a feeling he only half expected you to react to, but it was still surprising for both of you.

at first, sukuna expected you to flinch away from him. maybe even throw yourself away from his grasp. after all, it only seemed appropriate to him that an angel would fear the initial sight of a curse of his stature.

it was the stare you gave him that threw him off the most. your eyes were brilliant; the color in resemblance to the hazy aura that surrounded your body after the fall. but looking deeper, it seemed like you were...admiring him?

the softness in your gaze couldn’t be described in any other way. it was painted with innocence and light, something that was so foreign to sukuna.

despite the unfamiliar soft feeling blooming within his chest, his expression remained strong, revealing little emotion to you at first. with his eyes fully fixated on you, he smirked.

“i take it you’ve lost your way?” he asked in his low, sonorous voice. red eyes blinked down at you, the contact unbreaking.

when he was met with silence, it wasn’t a shock. angels weren’t so common with the earth language as many others thought they were.

instead, you blinked back at him, that same look in your eye as he remained holding you in his arms. even though he understood that you weren’t vocal, he could begin to feel that same tension lingering in the air once more.

“you really did a number on me when you fell down here.” he chuckled, assuming the pain from before was caused by the impact.

something within your gaze flickered as your hand reached up towards his face. his first instinct was to flinch away or tense up, yet…he didn’t.

your caress on his face was gentle, so loving, it was enough to make him feel like warmth was rushing through the tips of your fingers. sukuna hadn’t felt such a sensation in an eternity. in all of his long life, he couldn’t remember ever feeling a touch as gentle and as ethereal as this one.

it truly amazed him. he’d been so used to fighting, that he forgot what a real, physical loving touch had felt like against his skin. especially in his true form, he’d never felt so many sensations coursing through him at once.

the tension only stretched once he noticed you hadn’t broken eye contact. usually, others would shy their gaze away in fear. but, with the way you looked at him, it was almost as if you were trying to persuade him to look at you.

the way you smiled at him, and the way your body was so relaxed in his grasp…something was drawing him in so deep, that he completely ignored the fact that your faces were now drawn so close together, his breath warm on your skin.

you could feel sukuna start to tense up against your body. he wasn’t saying it directly, but he hated appearing as though his walls were tumbling down. the mere idea of being vulnerable was nauseating to him. but sure enough, it was gradually spreading through him like a slow-killing virus.

for a brief moment, something switched within him. it was a sudden feeling of his normal self coming back to him.

suddenly, he placed you back on the ground. he initially wanted to turn his body away from you, but you stopped him. your hand clasped gently around one of his wrists, a slight pleading look in your eyes. you stood close to his body, battered wings flecking about torn and tangled feathers.

sukuna turned to look at you, slightly amused. if anyone else had done that to him in his domain, he could have their arm sliced off in a matter of one glance.

“what now?” he asked gently.

he almost made a smart remark following his inquiry, until your hands gently started to roam over his body.

slowly, your gentle touch sent that same euphoric sensation through him, causing his breath to hitch. the tenseness in his muscles seemed to be washed away by the feeling as your touch traveled to his waist.

he could feel your breath growing heavier by each minute that passed. your head leaned into the deep crook of his neck, hands admiringly slipping over the bulges of muscles and scars on his skin.

looking back at you, he huffed, that devilish smirk spreading slightly over his lips once more. his large hands crept over your waist, scraping the loose clothing off of your body, leaving you more vulnerable than him.

before you could react, he’d pulled you into his grasp once more, his lips connecting with yours. his tongue aggressively slithers its way into your mouth, causing you to whine.

when pulling away, a string of saliva trailed between both of your mouths, eventually dripping down your breast.

seeing your bare figure so beautifully displayed in front of him, sukuna can’t help but feel like he needs more. that feeling from before was now a craving that he felt wouldn’t be satisfied until he’d had every part of you.

leaning back to sit, he placed you conveniently onto his lap, undoing his robes. you could feel the warm excitement pulsing through you, and you were certain he could feel the same.

those dark eyes fixated on you so strongly, you felt as though he could see through you. he pulled you close to him again, his hand trailing down in between your legs.

you latched onto him in surprise when the mouth on his palm began to lap and lick at you from below. you let out a trembling whimper, wrapping your arms tight around his neck.

sukuna chuckled darkly. “now i’ve found what you like, haven't i?”

it wasn’t long before you were wet enough for his fingers to slip in between your snug walls. you could feel your legs beginning to shake uncontrollably as the mouth continued to suck and slither its tongue inside you, whilst his two fingers pumped into your wetness.

he was fascinated by the feeling. even just a mere two fingers had some struggles fitting inside you. but the way you swallowed him in so well down there made him throb.

fuck…who would’ve thought i’d get to ruin a sweet angel like this? he thought to himself. just the feeling of the dripping warmth around his fingers could drive him mad.

promptly, sukuna removed the rest of his robes, his full body exposed to you now. looking at you, he watched your eyes widen at the sight of just how big he was.

he smiled amusingly, taking your face into one of his hands gently.

“there’s nothing to be afraid of, dear.” he murmured, pulling you into a deep, long kiss.

your little whimpers sent waves of arousal through him. you were so fascinating in all ways…he just couldn’t get enough of you.

before he could do anything else, you positioned yourself beneath him, kneeling right where his thighs were.

he looked at you, confused. he could see that you appeared nervous. compared to sukuna, you felt so small. he was a giant, and you both knew that. but there was an instinct for you to serve him, even if it was just for a little while.

suddenly, you’d begun to take in one of his members into your mouth slowly, your tongue snaking around the tip.

sukuna let out a rumbling groan, muscles back to tensing and pulsing with excitement. even the feeling of your mouth was amazing…so soft and welcoming to his cock.

his head tilted back, the feeling of you sucking at him sending his mind into a blur. it was unfathomable how good you could make him feel, all with simple gestures.

after a few moments, you’d stopped. sukuna looked down at you, panting slightly.

it was the sight of you kissing his cock that made him realize what you were doing. trails of kisses led all the way to his pre-cum coated tip. your hands gently massaged and caressed his skin, humming with pleasure as you did so.

pulling you up to his lap again, he pulled you extra close, breath now hot against your neck. sukuna couldn’t keep his mouth from yours. his large hands groped at your breasts, the mouths engulfing your skin.

he loved the sound of your moans flowing into his mouth as he prepared his cock at your entrance. you sounded so meek, and at the same time desperate. as if you’d wanted more of him, which is exactly what he wanted from you.

sliding in wasn’t easy for him. not even half had slipped into you, and you were already holding onto dear life, clawing at his shoulders and wincing, tears starting to stream down your cheeks.

he cupped your face in his hands, holding you gently. “shhhh, it’s alright.” he assured.

he placed one of his hands on your chest, the thump of your heartbeat racing wildly. staring into your eyes, he never broke his soft stare, his member still partially stuffed inside you.

“breathe for me.” he murmured, hand remaining on your chest as he breathed deeply with you.

slowly, it eased its way past your walls, the warmth now engulfing him. sukuna leaned his head back, groaning.

“fuuuck…” he hissed, feeling the fluttering of your walls around him.

he looked up at you, seeing how tense you’d become. his hands gently rubbed up and down your back, soothing you to where you would relax once more.

accidentally, his hands traveled to your wings. at the initial touch, you let out a cry, but not out of pain, out of pleasure.

once again, fascination overcame him. while he started to pump himself in and out of you, his fingers gently massaged the silky feathers of your back, watching as your head and eyes rolled back.

his pace grew faster eventually, balls slapping against your flesh, your moans sobbing out of you louder. meanwhile, sukuna’s hands roamed all over you, caressing every part of you that he could.

as he fucked you, the tongue on his stomach swirled in delicate circles over your protruding clit. he could feel every part of you begin to tremble. it felt like you were about to break at the seams.

he growled out huskily as his hand wrapped around your throat. slaps rang out as he fucked you, echoing throughout his domain.

he looked at you with hooded eyes, admiring the glassy-eyed look of exhaustion and arousal that you had.

“cum for me,” he stammered out. “let me hear those pretty moans of yours…”

you could feel the pleasure washing over you, head throwing back as you let out a final cry.

with a few thrusts, he could feel his seed sputtering deep inside you. his last thrusts made sure everything stayed inside of you, filling you up as much as he could. the feeling of your warmth and fluids mixing together nearly sent the both of you into a trance.

but for sukuna, he was more entranced by you and you alone. he had yet to understand how an angel like you had fallen down here, but he figured he didn’t have to understand everything right away.

all he truly cared about now was possibly keeping you down here with him. it didn’t fully make sense at first why he felt such a drawn protection over you, but now he saw just how special you were.

holding you in his arms, he couldn’t help but smile watching you doze off, head resting against his chest as you listened to the soothing sound of his heartbeat.

written by sirenscriptures. do not repost on any other website. do not translate, copy, or use.

[help-itrappedmyself]

Crimes and Punishments Part 1: Ra's

Masterpost

There’s a phone on a special shelf in the Batcave near the Batcomputer. This particular phone has been set aside as Emergency Only since an incident involving Bruce’s sons a few months ago. No one has touched it since. 

The entire situation was full of way too many unknown variables for Bruce’s liking. He spent a lot of time unnecessarily stressed about that phone. But it never rang, and they never used it. Until one day, when a loud ringing could be heard throughout the Batcave.

Everyone stopped what they were doing and started looking around. There was a specific moment, when everyone realized which phone was ringing. A moment of stillness. Then they all rushed for it at once. None of the boys wanted someone the caller had never met to pick up, but Bruce was curious, and he was fast. Nightwing however, was also fast and a lot closer. 

“Hello?” Nightwing asked as he answered the call. Everyone else quickly gathered around him, and as upset that Bruce was that he wasn’t on the phone, everyone understood not to interrupt.

“Bats?” Danny responded carefully.

“This is Nightwing.”

“Oh, Nightwing. Good to hear from you, hope you’re doing well. Unfortunately, this is a business call regarding the information I was given by Red Robin and Robin when you were here. Are they available for follow up?”

“I’ll put you on speaker.” Nightwing gave Bruce a look, trying to ward off any interrogations and put the call on speaker. “Everyone is here.”

“Hi, everyone!” Danny called out cheerfully. "Red Robin and Robin, you remember when you were in my realm you gave me some information about illegal activity that I had to follow up on, as well as the locations to check out?”

They both responded in the affirmative.

“Wonderful, I wanted to let you know that the situation has been taken care of.” Danny’s voice turns very official. “As of now, my teams have cleared all known locations of the illegal substance to avoid any more contamination. In the matter of one Ra’s Al Ghul, on the basis of knowingly, purposefully, and repeatedly storing and using the illegal contraband, he has been sentenced to imprisonment in the Nightmare Dimension. Once his sentence has been served, he will be released and will be able to make a home in one of my realms if he so chooses. However, we have determined that he will be unable to return to his original dimension, as the damage he has made to your world has already been too great. Now, speaking of the damage to your world."

“As it turns out, your dimension has had a great many interdimensional leaks, the amount of which I also had to look into.” Danny sounds tired and annoyed now. “A specialist of mine, Clockwork, has informed me of a great many breaches made by a small group of people. He is pushing for a very harsh sentence, your citizens have caused him a great deal of trouble and repeatedly broken the law in regards to his domain. I need to look into this further and was hoping to receive some assistance in organizing a meeting with these people, in order to determine fault, and possible repercussions or sentencing depending on the severity of their crimes.”

There is a pause, and no one says anything for a short moment as they hear Danny take a breath.

“I am unsure of the necessary authorities I should speak to regarding people of your world breaking the laws of mine.” Danny sounds so tired.

“We can help.” Red Robin spoke. “Do you know who these people are and where they are located?”

“Not exactly. They are in America, a few different places, but they can and do travel. Are you familiar with the speedsters on your planet? There should be three of them.”

They exchange looks. “Yes we are familiar. We can set up a meeting with them.”

[ziaxkawaii]

The Creator needs help

I claim to know s*it about canon genshin impact Teyvat lore or how things work in it. I just wrote something that was on my mind at 2 AM.

~~~~

Teyvat was crying...

No, it wasn't any ordinary rainy day no.

Not only was water falling down from the skies above in the form of tears, hail and snow also came down along with powerful winds in places that rouse concern in humanity and other forms of life alike. 

Thin layers of snow covered parts of the smeltering deserts of sumeru, rain poured down in forever freezing shnesnaya, pillars of ice formed in the waterfalls of watatsumi island in inazuma and such other incidents wreaked havoc all around the land of Teyvat. 

These disasters drove away almost all creatures of nature into hiding and cursed all yields to be near nonexistent due to the extreme conditions, leading to a landwide food shortage and miserable people. Even vision holders report feeling less elemental energy from their visions than before.

Mr. Zhongli, or formerly known as Morax or Rex Lapis, sat at Third-Round Knockout on a rare good day drinking tea as he  watched the dark clouds over the sea creep closer to Liyue Harbor. He sighs, as he already figures that the weather would one again cut his visit short.

Just as he brought this tea cup to his lips to take another sip, his surroundings changed. He was no longer drinking tea he was standing inside a domain of sorts. Where ever he looked, he couldn't see an end to the limitless space.

He wasn't alone though, six others, who he realized were the other archons and people of the highest authority of each nation, were here as well. And from the looks of things, they were just as perplexed as he was.

Since all of them were brought here, it could only mean, a being higher than them have summoned them for a purpose.

"Be not afraid."

A voice spoke, which drew everyone's attention to them.

A figure floated by their lonesome in place with a calm and understanding expression as they gestured at the seven of them. The figure was like a glowing humanoid lamp, glowing brightly with no distinguishable features whatsoever, except a horizontal golden line at their throat that seemed to extend all the way around their neck.

As if their head had been cleanly sliced off...

Wait... He recognized such featured being described somewhere. An ancient parchment that spoke of a deity that was the purest and highest being in all of Teyvat. A being whose purity was reflected on how others would perceive them, for they lost their real body and a line as tough drawn with gold wrapping around their neck symbolizing their sacrifice to the life on Teyvat.

That being being the Creator...

The moment Zhongli realized who was talking to them, he sank down on one knee. Others following suit as they too realized the same thing as he did.

"Be not afraid... I am not here to neither cast judgement nor punishment." Their voice spoke, as though it was coming from everywhere at one. From behind the seven, from above, from inside their craniums. It would of felt almost overwhelming, had they been afraid, but none were.

"Your excellency... why have you summoned us to appear in your presence, if not for a punishment?" Zhongli hears one of the seven ask, as the same question runs in his head.

That was an excellent question. Though many of the Archons have done everything in their power to fulfill their duties as assigned, their disastrous and war filled past and even current lives, leave no room to doubt they too were not above desire.

The same desire that plaques Teyvat and every other being on it. Driving them to satisfy their own desires

to survive

to live

to build

to control

to destroy...

The Archons carry their sins for they are forbidden to forget them, it would be shameful to do so.

What reason are they here?

"My children... heed my words, for I am afraid time is running out." The creator spoke, their hands gently clenched in front of them, without a single waver in their tone as they continued.

"I was afraid that the day when the balance of Teyvat would be disrupted would come, but the severity of this disruption is far too severe. I can no longer watch as the creations I gifted life needlessly suffer." They floated closer to the kneeling seven as they pleaded.

"I beg of you my children, help end this misery that plaques Teyvat."

The Creators plead rang in their ears as giant bells as they looked up at their Creator, heads full of questions.

The Creator requests their assistance?

"Your grace, we do not know the causes of the anomalies on Teyvat, therefore we are powerless to help even our own nations. What can we possibly do to help?" Another Archons spoke.

"To understand our current obstacle, you must understand how Teyvat came to be." They spoke as, with a flick of their wrist, a mist like substance filled the surrounding space. Creating images aiding the Creators storytelling.

"As you are already aware, I, the Creator, was born of and egg and used the shell of said egg to create Teyvat, but that is not all." The Archons watched intently as images formed before their eyes one after another, telling a history never told before.

"After I was born, I wandered among the stars, awaiting for a purpose for my own creation. As time passed, a sudden desire willed me to use my given power for something, so I returned to my first ever home and used it's eggshell to house a new world in another galaxy.

I shed tears to form the seas, I took pieces of my body to create land, I blew air to form the atmosphere... I lent the sun and the moon to occupy the new lands lonely existence...

however... I wasn't satisfied...

what use does a world offer if no one is there to appreciate its beauty?"

The loyal Archons remained on their knees, listening to the tale of creation and birth of the land they call home. Seems as though even the most purest of beings in Teyvat cannot escape the curse of desire.

"So with the last of my strength, I gave up one of my hearts and divided it to millions and millions of pieces and scattered them all around the land and sea to form life. Life capable of growth, capable of feeling emotions and capable of death on the world I call Teyvat.

As a final gift, I gave up a fraction of my power and formed the seven elements. To make sure these gifts are not used wrongfully, I also created Celestia to act as guardians of Teyvat, the elemental energy and its happenings."

Zhongli stood silent in fascination of the history told. Their Creator really was just as benevolent as described in the ancient parchment he read oh so long ago. Even if their intention for Celestia was different from how things currently stand, they were thinking about their creations' well being. How could he disrespect his own creator so severely as to forget them? How could he?

"However...." The Creator continued.

"Just as I basked in relief and excitement of having created something that would have a life of its own... it caught the eye of another deity."

"They were envious of one of their own giving their body and attention to another, and so, they were going to curse the newborn world, which I could not let happen. I sliced off my own head as a distraction but the spell ended up landing on and affecting my own soulless mind and body, leading me to temporarily forget myself and my creation.

After the battle, my body and severed head fell into Teyvat, leaving behind the deity to grieve for hurting a fellow god.

My body collided with the earth while my head went missing, both staying unmoving, for I had no way to control them nor any memory to guide me on what to do. I felt as eons of life cycles passed before me, ground slowly swallowing my body and breaking it down, making me one with my creation." 

The sudden realization hit Zhongli harder than any of his meteorites. All along, the Creator has been among them. They were no spectator above Teyvat or a god who had abandoned them after their duty had concluded, no. They were there... they are...

"Yes, my children... I am Teyvat, and Teyvat is me."

Zhongli was taken aback as their Creator had read through his entire inner battle inside his mind. Now that he was aware of Teyvat's major historical event, he can finally start to string pieces together and think why Teyvat now experiences such instability. 

"Your eminence, since your body is apart of Teyvat itself, does the weather, soil and even elemental energy have anything to do with your physical well being?" Another Archon spoke and all tuned in to hear the Creator.

"I certainly does... Even if my body is no longer, most concentrated amounts of my being and the energy inside still lie beneath the ground, instinctively healing Teyvat and the ley lines from major damage, effectively enabling Teyvat and the elemental energy to remain balanced and flourish. 

However, lately the level of corruption in the ley lines and the amount of abnormal elemental energy surges have risen greatly, leading my "body" to panic and repel the added strain, therefore leading Teyvat becoming unstable." The creator hugged themselves as they explained and all of us understood the current issue and the gravity of it.

The creators physical body is what had been keeping Teyvat and its energy in line even when the Archons, gods and Celestia had abused it, but know that the last nail has been hammered, the creators body is no longer instinctually healing it and the Celestia is not stepping up to the task that was theirs to begin with.

"Your grace, just say the word and we are at your disposal. What can we do to help?" Zhongli himself spoke, voice even and calm for he had his full faith in his creator.

"You need to find my long lost head and bring it over to my bodys remains. Only then, can I reawaken and consciously put a stop to all of this, for in my current state I am a mere piece of your imagination laced with a voice." The creator explained, as though to prove their point, Their voice now sounded from inside their head as they floated higher and addressed the seven once more with a formal order and open arms.

"Please, find my body and bring my head over to it so I can awaken and help put a stop to this disaster! Let my mind be once again one with my body so balance may be restored, and the curse be lifted!"

Zhongli blinked and everything was just as it was before getting pulled into the domain to meet the creator. The tea he was going to savour previously, was still in his hand, steaming, as though no time had gone by at all. He however knew what had transpired mere second ago, was no daydream or a hallucination, his creator had really summoned him and requested his assistance.

With no more interest in the tea, Zhongli set the unfinished cup down while rising from his seat and began making his way out of Liyue harbor, with a newly acquired goal occupying his mind and shoulders.