#god the salesman is so pretty

[bumblingest-bee]

ya boy tumblr user bumblingest-bee has just auditioned for assassins 😎

[chuluoyi]

✎ baby to the rescue

- gojo satoru x reader

in which gojo recruits your baby son to “save” you from a credit card salesman

genre: immense fluff !! baby gojo and dad!gojo shenanigans~

note: based on this and this reel. with this i hereby declare that anything past chapter 235 is null and void HAHA anyway, i truly want to post remarried empress au by this week but since 261 leaks hurt me so much, i need more fluff so have to postpone it to next week :') tagging @karikari19hikariiii <3

a part of gojo's love entries

general masterlist

Your husband Gojo Satoru... is handsome as hell, which means your baby son is also undeniably good-looking.

"Why do you pout at me?" Satoru poked his squirming baby's cheek while pursing his lips too. "C'mon, smile! That auntie is smiling at you!"

Everyone who passed by them in Shinjuku shopping district turned heads to admire him and his pumpkin just a little longer, and Satoru visibly enjoyed the attention. He smiled back at them, occasionally winking even.

If only they knew how pretty his wife was too...

Wait, no! On second thought, if they know how hot you are, there will be problems!

You had left him to go to the nearest pharmacy to restock some things, while Satoru decided to entertain his baby in the toy section. He basked in the starry-eyed looks people were giving him... until he heard some strange sounds and turned to his baby boy—

—who was chewing the beak of a duck toy with all his might. Satoru was mortified.

"—! Let that go! Your mama will beat me if she sees you eating this!"

Your baby paid him no mind though, desperately pushing the duck into his mouth. Satoru sat him on one of the empty racks and began the tug of war—

"Let go!" he reprimanded. "You're so naughty, gods—!"

Some people were now openly giggling at both of them. His son tried to resist by rolling, and Satoru clicked his tongue. He then yanked the toy away until his baby finally let it go, sniffling sadly that his papa wouldn't let him have the duck.

"Oh, you..." he picked him up again and consoled the pumpkin. "You can't do that, you hear? First, it's not clean. Second, mama will grow two heads to chew you and me both, understand?"

No, your son totally didn't understand a thing. Satoru sighed, seeing his little blue eyes welling up with tears. He ruffled his head and pulled him close. "There, there... I'll get you ice cream, okay? Now let's go."

Satoru was determined to turn his son back into a smiling, happy baby. But just as he was about to head towards the ice cream parlor, he encountered the most unbelievable sight—

"Miss! I guarantee you'll love this credit card features!"

You. That was clearly you, and a salesman (or a bozo, in Satoru's eyes) was trying to bother you.

You raised an eyebrow. "Uh, no— thank you—"

Yet the bozo was still persistent, like the pesky fly he was. "You can use it to pay for your monthly beauty treatments! Someone as pretty as you..." He eyed you from head to toe, blinking suggestively. "Oh my! Your skin is flawless! You have to maintain it this way! I can also give you recommendations for—"

You were wearing a flare dress that made you look so young and petite, and obviously, Satoru too was lusting after you. And true, your skin was smooth like a soft serve of mochi, but still!

You are meant for him and his eyes only! Oho, this bozo would get heavenly punishment.

He had to get to you somehow, but this was public space and if he cooked up some sort of shenanigan, you would put him in sex ban. I can't have that! so Satoru wracked his brain to think of another way...

Once again, his gaze fell on his now calm baby, who was also looking at his mama over there with utter curiosity. And an idea immediately popped up in his mind.

"Hey, kiddo, look at that, a bad man is trying to take your mama," Satoru nudged him as if trying to egg him on. "We can't let that happen. Will you help me to save her, hmm?"

"Mama..." your baby looked back at him so innocently before smiling. "Mamaaa!"

"Good boy." Gods, his baby was so adorable, he almost felt bad for doing this but...

Swallowing his guilt, thinking he would make it up later, he pinched his son's butt a little too firmly—

"WAAAA!" and suddenly, the little boy burst into tears, and even Satoru was surprised by the sheer volume of his wail.

The sudden inconsolable sound of your baby sent you scrambling in panic, your eyes wildly searching for him, completely disregarding the credit card man. "My baby!"

"Eh?" the credit card man was visibly surprised. "Oh... so, you're married...?"

You immediately made your way towards Satoru and snatched your baby from him, hugging him tightly. "Oh, there, there... What happened to you?" you shot your husband a distaste look as your son kept wailing. "Satoru, why is he crying?"

He nonchalantly shrugged. "Maybe missing his mama? Dunno~"

By now, you had completely forgotten the credit card bozo, but he still looked at the three of you in mild surprise. Satoru took this chance to approach him and whisper in his ear:

"You see, my wife doesn't need your credit card," he whistled. "My cards or lumpsum money will do more than enough."

After seeing how pale the bozo looked, Satoru chuckled darkly... before leading you and your son away from the crowd, with one arm possessively around your waist.

Epilogue

"I'm sorry— I'm sorry, okay!?"

Satoru looked down at his son in utter hopelessness, as the little boy refused to be held by him, looking at him with teary, resentful eyes, and backing away from him in his playpen.

Can babies hold a grudge? Satoru didn't know, but his son definitely was not happy with him, and he couldn't think of any other explanation other than his sin against him back this afternoon.

"I've bought you mochi ice cream!" he opened his palm to reveal the treat. "Don't you want some? Papa will give you some, yeah?"

Baby looked skeptical now, and at that moment, he resembled you so much—accusing eyes, pursed lips, exactly like the expression you would pull when you were unsure of what Satoru might do next. He almost chuckled at the resemblance, feeling giddy.

"C'mon, forgive me, yeah?" he patted his son's little beanie and offered his hand for him to take, eyes crinkling in fondness. "Now, here comes your treat, come closer?"

Your baby crawled closer, seemingly accepting him, and Satoru was all smiles, until—

Whack!

It happened in a flash. He could have avoided it, but he was too taken aback. The pain exploded in his jaw, so intense that he grunted loudly.

"What the—?! You... you—! You kicked me— in the face!"

[v1rtualsalvat10n]

𓆩♡𓆪 how to tell you goodbye

— weeks after his mysterious disappearance, lu shows up at your door with a message for you.

notes :: TW FOR DUBCON. uh yeah I find the idea of him apologizing for doing what he has to do very hot. f!reader sorry guys this is self indulgent

You don't remember how long it's been.

But you know it'd been long enough for you to stop wondering if he was actually coming back or not, and try to cope with that fact. He was gone - there was very little doubt in your mind about that. He'd stopped responding to calls and messages, his socials went cold, his friends, at least the ones you knew, hadn't heard anything either.

He disappeared. And the last thing you ever heard from him was that he was planning on doing something... real. But he never told you what. He could be dead for all you know, and there was nothing you could do about it.

It took a pretty big toll on you. He was one of the few friends you had, and just like that he was gone. Just when things were looking up for you, your support system just had to vanish into thin air. You missed him, fuck, you missed him more than anything. You missed your little coffee shop dates, the weekend parties, playing games in your apartment when it was lonely, sitting in the park together just talking for hours.

You miss those little looks he gave you when he thought you weren't looking, the way that some of your mannerisms made him smile, the nights where your conversations would get real and you'd cry on his shoulder when it was too much for you. You miss how he'd let you.

You missed the moment when he made you look at him, and wiped your tears with his thumb, letting the tension between you two linger for longer than it should. You missed his warm, shaky breath against your cheek. But you missed the most that moment when you felt his lips on yours, just for that few seconds.

You didn't miss the way he seemed to have regretted it after.

But you remembered that the clearest of all... watching the guilt in his eyes set in as he moved away from you, standing from your couch and rushing for his bags, saying that "it was getting late" or some lie like that. You remembered how he didn't even look back at you as he walked out of your door.

And that was the last day you saw him. He texted you the next morning.

"Hey, I probably won't be able to see you for a while. Working on stuff. Gonna do something real with my life."

What the fuck did that even mean? It made you angry, irrationally so. It probably only made you angry because you thought it was your fault. But god dammit, that felt valid! You felt like you had a fair reason to be pissed. It was no secret you liked him - it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure it out either! He'd do something like that so carelessly, and then just throw you out?

You hated it. Maybe you'd feel better with an explanation, but the truth of the matter is that he kissed you and then mysteriously disappeared, not to be seen again. And how were you not supposed to make assumptions in that situation?

And so you'd spend your days by yourself. With no more Luigi to rely on to keep you from spiraling, you'd been curled up in your room by yourself, scrolling through his social media posts, rereading your message logs to see if there's something you'd missed.

You had a jacket of his he left at your place, and every night you'd wrap a pillow in it and breathe in the mix of cologne and his natural scent until it lulled you to sleep.

It wasn't enough. You wish he'd come back, but even if he did, what was there to say? Even if he apologized, you didn't know that you'd forgive him.

That is, until he actually did come back.

No, surely that was just wishful thinking - that knock was probably a salesman or someone stupid like that coming to bother you. You dragged yourself up from your bed and slowly approached the door, groaning to yourself before putting on a fake smile to answer it.

And sure enough, there he was. Cold and scruffy looking, his clothes ruffled and his hair matted, bags under his eyes. He pushed you inside, and slammed the door behind himself.

He kissed you again. But this time he didn't hesitate, and he wasn't gentle - he threw himself onto you, your lips messily colliding with his as he leaned into it, diving his tongue into your mouth. His hands slid down to your hips, grabbing the waistband of your sweatpants so tight it was like he might fall off the Earth if he let go.

The kiss was sloppy and desperate, and he hungrily pushed it as far as you'd let it go, which was admittedly pretty far. But then the shock faded, and you pressed your hands to his chest, shoving him back. He was weak enough that he fell back into the door, leaning against it to prevent from fully toppling over.

"What the fuck?!"

You'd never yelled at him before. Never even thought about getting upset with him. His face turned fearful, as he steadied himself and tried to walk forwards again. You took a step back for the one he took forwards.

"What the hell is wrong with you? Who do you think you are, fucking with me like this?!"

His expression shifted. He just stared at you, blankly, either too tired or too numb to show any emotion anymore. And fuck, that only made you angrier. "You think this is funny? I was worried you could be dead, and now you just- show up, months later, looking like this? Why didn't you say something? You just- just-"

"I'll explain everything. Just... I really... missed you."

"Yeah? You didn't miss me enough to at least give me a heads up that you were alive!" You hid your face in your hands, sighing deeply trying to contain yourself. What reasonable explanation could there possibly be? You couldn't reason with him surely.

You hear him step forwards, and he places his hands on your hips again. You reach down to pull him off of you, but the moment you move your hands away from your face, he's pressing more kisses to your lips. He holds you tighter, his arms wrapping around you. "Get off me," you growl, but he doesn't listen.

He kisses your neck, his warm breath shaking profusely. "Luigi," you say, and he can't even look up at you. You yank one of his hands off, only for him to put it back on you with more force than the last time. "I said get off!"

"Let me make it up to you," he begs you, his gaze meeting yours as he walked you forwards, pushing you onto the couch. You try to stand, but he's quicker, and he straddles you, hovering over you and pushing you down by your shoulders. He stops looking you in the eyes, too embarrassed at what he was doing.

"Luigi, stop! I'm trying to talk to you, god dammit!" He doesn't listen. He can't. He's already straining his jeans, grinding his hips into yours. It's warm. He's warm, and fuck, you can't lie to yourself. You missed this feeling. You missed the feeling of something real being there with you. You missed him.

Your body betrays you, and you softly rock your hips forwards into his, swearing under your breath. He smiles softly, cupping one of your hips in his hand. "It's okay. I know you missed this." He looked at you, a weird sincerity in his eyes, considering what he was actually doing.

"I'm not messing around. This- this isn't funny. Let go of me." At some point you had stopped struggling without noticing, and you squirmed again, causing him to push more of his weight down onto you. He spoke softly to you. "Shh, it's okay... It's okay, I promise I won't take long. Promise, promise."

He muttered some words in Italian, something that sounded along the lines of a prayer as he rutted into you, yanking your hips up to get more friction. "Stop it," you say again, covering your face with one of your hands.

The truth is that you'd dreamed of this moment for so long. So very long. You'd dreamed of what it would feel like when he finally touched you, his skin on yours, giving you all he had to give. But fuck, not like this, not like this-

He finished with whatever he was reciting, and slipped his fingers under your waistband, along with the one of your panties and tugged them down. You pressed your thighs together, but he was stronger than you and pushed them apart, leaving you exposed for him.

"You're beautiful..." He stared down at you, leaving a crimson shade on your cheeks. "I'm sorry, I just... I felt like I had to tell you goodbye." Your eyes widened as he said that, and you shook your head. "What are you talking about? Luigi, I'm not going anywhere. You're not going anywhere either. You don't have to do this, please-"

By the time you finished, he was already unbuckling his belt, the sound of the buckle clinking against itself making you shiver. He unbuttoned his jeans and pushed them down, rubbing himself against your folds. He was big. Bigger than you expected. Big enough that it looked like this might leave you sore.

You tried to scoot back, but he reached for you and pulled you closer than you were before, gasping at the feeling of your wetness against his cock. He'd longed for this forever, maybe even since the moment he'd first laid eyes on you. It felt like heaven to him, despite how dirty he felt - despite the fact that he knew it was wrong.

Something about you looking down on him for this only made him harder.

He lined himself up with your entrance and parted you with just his tip, his nails sinking into your hips as he did. "Fuck," he whimpered, "I'm so sorry, amore."

And with that, he slid into you slowly. You sighed in relief, only to cry out when he was so overwhelmed by pleasure that he slammed himself into you as deep as he could manage, rolling his hips into you.

Fuck. You could feel him pressing against your cervix. His breath shook as he panted heavily, shutting his eyes tightly as he pulled out nearly all the way, only to slam back into you. He swore, leaving bruises on your sides from how hard he was holding you. It hurt but you didn't care.

He kept up this brutal force, moving all the way out just so he could thrust deep into you again. It took him a while to speed up just because he was so overstimulated by it. But when he did, he fucked you like a wild animal, slamming his hips into yours, the obscene sound of his skin hitting yours filling your apartment.

You looked up at him, who still had his eyes closed out of shame. You couldn't help but imagine what he saw behind his eyelids, what he was imagining as he fucked you in earnest. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes, but he fought against them. "I'm sorry," he muttered, over and over again. He couldn't stop apologizing.

"It's- it's okay, it's okay... fuck-! I forgive you, I forgive you, I forgive you... oh god..."

That was too much for him. Your acceptance, that unconditional love of yours, the fact that he could do this, and you would still understand, pushed him over, and tears streamed down his cheeks.

His hands frantically slid up your sides as he leaned down onto you, both your chests pressed together, getting as much of his skin on yours as possible. He ran his fingers up and down you, committing every hill and valley to memory. "I'm sorry, I promise I'll make it up to you. I promise you. I promise."

He kept mindlessly apologizing as he used you, controlled by his own need. There was no stopping him now, and you didn't want to. He was beautiful even like this, even at his lowest point. You knew that you loved him in this moment.

"I'm gonna cum, please, please... I'm sorry, I need it, please, baby-" He kept babbling through his tears, which fell onto your cheeks. You closed your eyes softly, leaning into his touch, pressing your lips to his.

He devoured you in an instant, the kiss deeper than before, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he neared his release. "Perdonami, ti prego," he begged, speaking inbetween breaths.

"Lu," you cooed. "Go ahead. It's alright."

As soon as you commanded him, his eyes shot open and he threw his head back as he rammed into your cervix, spilling himself deep inside of you, his body shaking as he did. You tightened around him, the feeling of him finally letting himself go enough to make you cum too, as you called out his name.

He stayed tensed up over you for a moment, his arms struggling to hold his weight as his eyes shut, and he collapsed on top of you, his face in your chest. He started to sob, gripping you tight, one of his hands going down to entangle with yours. "I'm so sorry, amore," he repeated, over and over, "I'm sorry"s falling from his lips.

You pressed him closer, free hand stroking his hair softly as he crumbled in your arms. "It's okay. I forgive you."

"Please don't hold it against me."

"We'll figure it out, okay, Lu? We'll figure it out, together. Me and you. Because I love you."

"I love you too.... No matter what happens, remember that I love you."

[zee-nith]

GO AWAY. THIS IS SLANDER AND TREACHERY I hope Villain Deku comes for you 💔

it's the first of the month, which means happy villain deku day to @zee-nith and anyone else who celebrates 😝🤞

[avocado-writing]

The idea of Wade as a used car salesman found a love of his life during his midlife crisis before he met Logan. They don’t have a clue that he’s Deadpool. They just fall in love with Wade the used car salesman Wade Wilson, even see him as a funny, harmless person till one day his partner showing a picture of Deadpool and goes “He looks hot, could we find some costume to wear next time we fuck, dear?”

Wade totally forgot that he’s retired from Deadpool cause he’s in his suit, ready to fuck the love of his life for eternity. 👀

Wade Wilson knew he was in love the first time you cried laughing over one of his stupid jokes.

You’re probably too good for him with your easy smile and kind heart, and he knows he’s punching above his weight when he asks you out - but somehow you end up saying yes. 

At the bar that night he keeps you laughing until there are tears in your eyes and then continues the show in bed. It’s so lovely to have you all giggly under him, pressed into the mattress as he makes you cum so hard all you can do is moan. 

You lie there, walking your fingers up and down his chest, molasses-slow as the streetlights outside your apartment silhouette you both in fluorescence. 

“I like you, Wade. You’re nice,” you sigh, in a way which suggests you don’t often meet nice people. Ah man, he fucking melts. He’s never letting you go. 

Your relationship is pretty easy. He never feels like he has to work to impress you or keep you onside, you like him for him. It’s a… refreshing feeling, from a world where Wade Wilson constantly feels like he’s too much. 

He catches the Deadpool keyring on your house keys one night after the two of you have grabbed pizza on the way home; spotting the telltale red and black while trying to keep a pile of boxes in place between his hands and his chin. 

“Oh, Deadpool fan?” he asks, trying to affect nonchalance. He sees you get a little flustered. 

“I mean… yeah? Back in his heyday I thought he was cute, kind’ve a shame he disappeared. Merc with a mouth, what’s not to love?” you pause for a second. “He reminds me of you actually.”

Wade laughs at that way too loud and way too hard.

“What? No. That’s crazy!”

You throw him a side-eye but don’t comment further. 

He lets it rest for a couple of days so as not to draw suspicion, but when you make yourself a cup of coffee and his own mask is staring back at him from the ceramic, he can’t hide his wandering eyes. 

“What’s up?” you ask. 

“Nothing. Just didn’t realise they made those.” He didn’t get a cut. Should he have gotten a cut? Would have been nice if whoever had merchandised his face had asked him if he was cool with it.  

“Oh, look, everyone has a crush on at least one superhero, okay? It’s impossible not to. They’re everywhere and they’re hot!”

He lets himself digest this. You think Deadpool is a superhero? He didn’t get that much. Mostly he was referred to as “god’s curse to crimefighting”. But also you have a crush on him? Both of these facts are… interesting. 

“I… think Deadpool is hot, too,” Wade blurts out when he realises he’s been silent for ten uninterrupted seconds. 

“Oh,” you reply, settling down a little when it turns out he’s in agreement with you. “Well, cool! Glad we can agree.”

Phew. Got outta that one, then. 

He really doesn’t think any more of it, or tries not to, until a couple of weeks later when you bring it up in bed. 

“Wade, can I ask something kinda kinky?”

Cuddled in post-coital bliss, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your skin, he pauses. 

“Abso-fuckin’-lutely, sweet cheeks. I’d be offended if you didn’t.”

“How do you feel about roleplay?”

He turns to you with a grin which threatens to split his face in half.

“Oh, you’ve been keeping that under your hat!” he laughs, “But, in answer to the question, very positive. What were you thinking? Cop and criminal? Nurse and patient? I’m down to play any of those roles by the way, I believe in equal gender opportunities in the bedroom.”

You chuckle, but when you tuck a piece of hair behind your ear and try to work out how to phrase the next part of the question, he cottons on. 

“Oh my god. You want me to roleplay Deadpool, don’t you?”

“It’s okay if you don’t want to! It’s just, you said you thought he was sexy… so I wondered…”

He puts a finger on your lips, stoppering the spill of panic from your lips. 

“Baby, I am so down to clown that you might as well call me Pennywise. Let me sort the details and I’ll give you the best night of in-character boning that’s ever been known to man.”

You look giddy at that promise. Truth be told, he’s kinda excited himself. 

Wade retrieves the suit the next day and feels a little weird putting it back on, covering his body again with red and black. When he’s done this in the past it’s in order to go and kill like, a lot of people, not to fulfil a fantasy. But hey - there’s a first time for everything.��And it’ll make you so happy, too.

You scream when he taps on your window from his perch on your fire escape. Admittedly he should have told you he was coming, but he thought it could be a fun and sexy surprise. He was wrong. 

“WHAT THE FUCK—!”

Wade whips off the mask as you lunge for your kitchen knife set, hands up in a gesture of peace. 

“Baby! Babe, it’s just me!”

You go limp with relief, leaning against the counter to support yourself. 

“Holy shit! Wade, what the fuck do you think you’re…”

You trail off as you take in the picture of your boyfriend crawling in through the tiny window decked out in his suit. An eyebrow raises. 

“Oh.”

“Yeah! See, I told you I’d sort it.”

Anger and fear now completely ablated, you walk a slow circle around where he stands in your kitchen, appraising his look. 

“This is a high quality suit. Where did you get it?”

“Peter,” he says quickly. This isn’t a lie. He did get it from Peter… Peter’s locker anyway. You look confused. 

“Our coworker Peter?” When Wade nods you furrow your brow. “He… he hasn’t fucked in this suit, has he?”

“No!” says Wade with far too much force. Actually he can’t prove that. Now it’s an image he can’t shake from his mind. Not super conducive to the mood. 

He takes a knife from his belt, and your eyes go wide in a mixture of panic and arousal. 

“Oh my god…”

“It’s blunt! Well. It’s sharp enough for me to cut your underwear off, which I’ve been rocking a semi all day from imagining…”

From the smile which takes up your face, he knows he’s done right. 

Any way you ask him to fuck you, he does. Over your dresser. Against your wall. While running the dulled point of baby knife over the curve of your ass as he pistons his hips inside you, getting the mess of your cum all over the front of his suit. It’s filthy. It’s fantastic. 

But when you lay there cuddled up to his chest that night, Wade feels… conflicted. It isn’t that he’s lying to you, exactly, but it feels like he’s keeping a pretty fucking big secret. 

If you knew, would you still like him? Still want to be with him? Having a crush on a superhero is one thing, but being with one is entirely different. Ask any of the assorted Spider-Man and their various fucked up partners. It isn’t always pretty.

As if determined to take his mind away from this thought you nuzzle into his side, blissfully fucked out. He buries his lips into your hair. 

It never needs to be an issue. Deadpool is retired. He’s never gonna be used for non-kinky reasons again. 

…right?

taglist: @falsewordz @malfoys-demigod @belilwen @mildly-salted @tvwebs @childeslegstrap @getmeoutofhell @s1eep-o @just-a-beatlemaniac69 @yrthr @momopad @sugarplumz100 @captainjinkx @madspads @acrosstheunivcrse @yeethaw13 @na-is-salty @florduarte @hunterispunk @starfleetteddybear

[zwhoreo]

Luffy accidentally eating/taking aphrodisiac and reader has to deal with the results.

HAPPY 2024!!! :D here’s my longest fic ever as a celebration

can’t come down - aphrodisiac luffy x f!reader

smut with some angst

summary: thinking it was regular chocolate, you accidentally give luffy several doses of a potent aphrodisiac. now he needs you to take care of him

contains: accidental intoxication, luffy in discomfort/distress, tears, some uncomfortable sex, overstimulation, luffy and zoro in a brief sexual situation

words: 4.8k

_______________________________

It’s all your fault. You’ve hurt him, the little angel. A pleasant but burning pain, he’s attached to you, drooling on your neck and he’s been going for hours and he’s rubbing inside you ceaselessly, you’re dripping with him. He’s whimpering, this sweet boy. His eyes are blown out and hazy and he won’t stop just gazing at you, open-mouthed whimpers while he rubs inside you so deep and rough that god, you can feel it blooming and aching in your stomach, squeezed as you breathe so with every breath he moans in frustration and desire. Luffy just wanted chocolate, it’s all your fault.

______________________________

This town is seedy and dark. You like it because you can’t find these sorts of shops in regular port towns, places selling hallucinogens and fake medicine and alcohol for 100 berries a bottle. The sex shops don’t even board up their windows, that’s why you and Nami thought why not, let’s explore.

It’s not a serious shopping trip, more of a chance to laugh, tease each other, indulge in curiosity. This store’s set into the ground, beneath a metal stairway, it’s starting to rain so you two run for cover in the most interesting place.

The sex shop, which is very dim, all lantern light, is filled with things neither of you had ever seen before or thought to consider. The salesman is pushy, coming from behind the counter to try to sell you things you certainly hadn’t come there for. You laugh and walk around and whisper to each other. And even though you’re in a loving relationship these aren’t things you’ve thought to consider. Luffy wouldn’t like any of this. You would never do something to hurt or confuse him, not when you’re both vulnerable like that. But these low prices intrigue Nami who tells you that hey, why not get some cute lingerie?

“They’ve got a whole wall of it!” She points to the colorful selection of lace and silk and you do admit, it’s beautiful. It’s not something Luffy would care about really but you’d feel pretty in it, maybe. They’ve even got these cute little translucent night dresses that look so comfortable.

So you approach the salesman with your arms full of lingerie and he looks eager to be selling to two beautiful women. He keeps talking about deals and discounts, and with a little wink he throws in a special offer, with those two night dresses you’re buying you get free aphrodisiacs. Chocolate aphrodisiacs in a little white box and he keeps telling you these things are powerful. It’s a special deal, just for you. And with laughter and encouragement from Nami you say why not. You take them, even though you don’t think you’ll ever use them.

___________________________

Weeks go by. That little box, it rests forgotten in some dresser drawer. You tend to forget things at sea.

And there’s this island, more of an ocean mountain really, with jagged cliffs for beaches but there’s a small jungle on top, there might be food or resources up there. So Sanji and Zoro are going to go, and Luffy absolutely insists on coming with them. He’s all excited about it, hyper, rolling on his feet because he’s been kept away too long on the ship and he wants to explore.

But he’s not feeling quite himself. You’ve been short on food and Luffy’s had it bad, never satisfied after meals for the last couple days. That’s why this ocean mountain is the center of your universe with only the promise of a grove of mango trees, a flock of quail. So he’s begging you, pawing at your knees as you sit in bed and begging to get something to eat before he goes exploring. You try to help, maybe there’s something in a drawer, you get to your knees and dig through your dresser while Luffy crouches behind you, leaning on your back, you feel his warmth through your shirt. He’s impatient so he bites the back of your neck, tender but sharp.

You find the little box. You have no memory, in that moment, of where you got it. There’s no label, and you later think to yourself why the hell was there no label? but of course it doesn’t cross your mind right here. It’s a little box of chocolates and before you even have a chance to remember, Luffy snatches them out of your hand and says thank you and kisses you quickly on the cheek, cupping your face, his lips wet from hunger. And he sprints away, leaving you blushing, sitting there on your floor with a little smile.

_________________________

He’s beginning to feel very warm but it’s just the sun, probably. He takes off his cardigan, carrying it on his arm. His skin glistens golden in the light, a perfectly burnt brown, but now he’s going red with flush creeping from his face to his shoulders. Luffy’s breathing is irregular now, shuddering. He looks around, the trees wavering just a bit in a cloudy haze through his eyes.

“Sanji?” And he reaches for Sanji’s hand because for some reason he craves contact right now. But Sanji pulls away, feeling the layer of sweat coating Luffy’s palm. “I feel weird.”

Sanji’s eyes wander him. He can sense there’s something not right in Luffy’s stare, something dulled and far away. Something’s wrong, what’s wrong?

“Luffy?” Sanji doesn’t know what to do in these kinds of situations. “You should go see Chopper,” he says finally with his hand on Luffy’s shoulder, gingerly.

“Don’t wanna go back yet.” Luffy’s complaining despite the discomfort. And when he sees that Sanji won’t tell him anything he wants to hear, he turns and disappears into the underbrush, maybe water will help, something cold.

So he comes to this little pond, crystal clear and dappled by sunlight, there’s frogs on the lilly pads. If he wades to his thighs he won’t pass out, probably. There isn’t much care for himself in this moment, just a need to get rid of this burning. So he strips off his jeans which helps, strangely. A breeze hits his now bare body. He feels raw in a way he never has before.

That’s a yearning need to touch himself, but no, Luffy doesn’t think about that. He’s hot so he needs to get in the water. He stumbles on the rocks because his vision isn’t quite right. He shouldn’t go to his waist but that’s where the burning is. Ankles then knees then thighs, ripples lap between his legs, he’s left panting and tingling, that water is hitting nerve endings and with every wave comes friction that makes his body twitch. He wants more.

His hand flies to his cock as if by impulse, all of a sudden. There’s no thoughts now, just need, his hand rubs himself messily even though Luffy has no control, no concept of what he’s doing or why.

God, please.

He bends over a little, head down. Beads of sweat from his brow speckling the water as his whole body shakes back and forth and his muscles spasm. Frustration fogs his mind, with every pump it only stretches his skin, not enough friction, his hand is clamped down so tight that it’s doing nothing for him. He feels like crying. He hates that he wants to go home.

But this isn’t home. And as Luffy moans unabashedly this sounds like cries from pain, which they are, a bit. So it’s Zoro who hears him and without a second thought he’s tearing through the underbrush, tripping over his own feet, led blindly by his worst sound in the world — Luffy crying.

He shouts his name and crashes through the trees, he’s in the clearing and looking around desperately but what he sees makes him yell again. There’s Luffy, the love of Zoro’s life, completely naked and wading in the water of that crystal clear pond and moving sporadically as he rubs his cock, so painfully rock hard, over and over in this animalistic desperation as he cries and whimpers. He doesn’t know where he is or who’s around him and he doesn’t see Zoro.

Until he’s shoved from the side, a powerful push that sends him tumbling into the water, cruel cold water that sucks him in and starts a familiar panic within his heart that makes him forget for a moment about that burning inside him.

“WHAT THE FUCK, LUFFY?!” Zoro pulls him by his hair, shaking him, throwing him on the rocks and looking at Luffy with these stricken eyes, unable to comprehend what he’s seeing. His composure in that moment is shattered, his fists are clenched.

They’ve seen each other naked so many times. They’ve bathed and held and carried each other with nothing between their skin, it’s just how it happens sometimes when you’re that close. But this intimacy, this state Luffy’s in, it’s like nothing Zoro was prepared to see or could even really imagine out of Luffy. Something is horribly wrong.

“Zoro…” and Luffy’s taken up in his arms because no disgust or awkwardness comes before helping a friend who’s hurting. “I feel… I dunno… what’s- …”

Luffy’s voice is so slurred, his body is tense and so solid but yet somehow he’s still melting. Zoro’s finding it hard to look at him, do anything other than just sit there and hold him, uncomfortable at how he can feel that heat from between Luffy’s legs radiating and blooming condensation on Zoro’s skin. He has absolutely no idea how to even begin to approach this situation. So he’s rough and sloppy as he dresses his friend, his cardigan’s on and his sandals are on and his hat has been slammed over his eyes. But Zoro, teeth gritted, has to shove Luffy’s cock in his jeans himself because this boy is useless like this. He’s silently vowing to never talk or think about this moment again, how sticky his hands now feel, how Luffy moans as he’s touched and leans into Zoro and how his cock twitches with an overpowering need to fuck anything that’s close.

Zoro won’t think about this again. He just picks Luffy up and carries him away without saying a word.

______________________________

You’re just looking out the window. Unmoving sun, unmoving sea. You want to eat or go somewhere and maybe you should’ve begged and made them take you on the island.

Is it the island, or do you just miss Luffy?

But it’s not long before your door is kicked open, you jump, eyes wide, whipping around to find Zoro cradling your boyfriend, who looks sick. Fear shoots through you and closes your throat especially when you see Zoro’s eyes, vacant and upset and he looks dissociated, blank.

“Oh god, Luffy.” You run to him and your hands go to his face and just stroke his cheeks, he’s sweaty and burning up like he’s caught in a deep fever. “What happened?” Your eyes are wild and scared as you turn to Zoro.

“I don’t know what you gave him. Just… deal with it.” Zoro dumps Luffy into your arms and you stumble as he curls up into you, drooling all over your neck. And Zoro gives his shoulder one last squeeze and turns away, closing the door behind him, running off down the hall, somewhere where he can’t hear that crying anymore.

And yes, Luffy’s crying. You set him down on your bed, rubbing the back of his head and holding his hand. “Hey, hey, talk to me. What’s wrong?”

“Dunno what’s happening…” Luffy’s eyes are pleading and endlessly deep right now. His legs are kicking against the air and he keeps shifting around, he can’t sit still.

With his free hand he’s rubbing between his legs like he’s scratching an itch, but he doesn’t stop, your gaze follows him and oh, oh fuck. He’s got this tight, obvious hardness in his jeans. Straining so hard the zipper is shaking with tension. You’ve never seen anything like this.

Your mind is racing, this isn’t just horniness, Luffy has never been sexsick like this before.

You trace it all back and nothing was wrong when he left. Just bright eyed innocence, affection, nothing strange. And suddenly it hits you, that box, those chocolates.

Oh god. Oh my god.

You fed him an aphrodisiac. An aphrodisiac from a sketchy shop in an old-town basement, a powerful drug, just one would keep you up a whole night.

And you let Luffy eat them all.

“Lu… god, I’m sorry,” is all you can say as he crawls into your lap and breathes on your face. You take off his hat and ruffle his hair. How can you even explain this to him? He’s not going to understand. “I’m so sorry. This is my fault, I gave you an aphrodisiac by mistake.” You’re choked up. You hurt him.

“…” Luffy’s mouth is hanging open, drool coating his chin, dazed, so confused. “Hm?” His voice is even gravelier than normal.

“Those weren’t normal chocolates. They make your body… ready for sex? It’s supposed to be a fun thing. B- but I forgot they weren’t just normal chocolates! God, I’m so sorry.” You’re breaking down, you’re cuddling with him now, head on his shoulder.

“Oh.” You can’t really tell how much he understands. And his voice is quiet when he asks, “when’s it gonna go ‘way?”

“…I don’t know. I’m gonna try to help, ok? Let’s fuck for a few hours and get it out. It’s gonna be ok, Lu.”

His pupils expand when you say this, his eyes going from brown to deep black. He wants that so, so bad. He’s just sort of figuring that out now. “Heh, yeah.” He squirms in your lap, cock so hard you can feel his zipper sliding down on its own, as his breath gets heavier, this desperate ball of energy spasming in your arms.

Then he smiles. And he attacks.

He flips you onto your back and groans, hips thrusting into yours as his lips find your mouth, saliva leaking past your lips, you swallow as they part. You’re wearing these soft cotton shorts and you feel his aching cock smacking the fabric as it pushes and strains to break free from his pants with every motion. He moans so loud you know everyone can hear. Now he’s drooling again, spitting on your face because he’s lost control of his jaw, you’re winded but you grab his face and kiss him, he didn’t even know he needed this.

He falls on you now. He’s all splayed out and whining and just kissing you as if he’s been challenged, teeth and tongue working through every part of your mouth. He’s loud when he kisses, and now every breath is a groan of want.

“Undress me…” you whisper to him, grabbing the back of his neck, he seems like he’ll explode if he keeps on like this without being deep inside you.

With a strangled “Mh,” Luffy’s fingernails scrape your skin in a desperate attempt to pull off your dress. He’s ripping cloth, damn, you can hear him ripping cloth. Nothing you can do now.

But you can tell as your skin shines bare and he tears his own clothes from his body, as his sweat drenches you and that heat like a tropical hurricane all over but especially where it pools between his legs and oh you’d be scared if you looked there now, you can tell he’s about to just go in you with no thought or reason and harder than he’s ever gone before. So — and you hate to do this — you grab his shoulders. You stare him in the eyes.

“Luffy. Listen to me.”

your eyes reach his soul, he tries to look at you with anything close to coherence, he wants to follow your lead, he doesn’t understand anything right now. But there’s a hailstorm inside his mind. But he tries to listen.

“Don’t be too rough, please, can you promise?” Your voice is shaky because you’re not sure what he’s about to do. Luffy would never intentionally hurt you but he’s powerful, his body is strange, he works in ways neither of you understand. He has the power to really, really damage you and the carelessness to not see it happening. So you beg him with your eyes.

“I promise,” he gasps softly, one hand curling behind your neck, and he presses his face against your cheek, trying to harden his eyes in the gentle seriousness of the moment. Luffy is incapable of feeling sadism towards you of any kind and he’s at war with his body and the energy bursting within him right now. But he promises.

You smile and your feet rest on his hips and thighs, you feel him sizzling beneath your touch. The surface of his skin wavers before your eyes from the heat, you understand now the idea of mirages, he looks covered in amber rain even as his skin burns beneath your hands.

“Slow,” you ask softly in his ear, making Luffy whine in hunger.

There it is. What you don’t dare look at you can feel. Swollen and throbbing it feels like a whole other animal is just clawing there beneath that rice paper skin. You can feel his heartbeat in the tip of his cock as he touches you and it speeds up thousands of times in an instant. His thighs clamp around yours and his nails are sharp and Luffy groans in your ear. He’s made of nerve endings that send him twitching writhing with every tiny movement. He needs you now.

He pushes himself in and every bit of friction sends him convulsing against you, squeezing you tighter. You can feel the struggle in his muscles to hold back but that deep, tangible yearning for relief. He’s in and you’re both gasping for air. You’re not used to the size or the heat or that artificially induced power that’s overcome his body. But you’re proud of him and you tug his hair to tell him a quiet thank you, you’re ok, he’s keeping you safe.

All your touches are too much. His hips move messily against you like he doesn’t have the capacity to understand what to do right now. But he’s just going to follow that deep primal craving so he rocks into you with all his weight, crushing you again and again, eyes closed, mouth trying to find yours.

It’s the movement but also the way you’re being held. It’s a scary heaven. He’s going deep and he’s not pulling out just throwing himself against you over and over as if there’s any more he has to go. He’s whimpering and his body is shaking in need.

But he goes faster and now this is what you’re scared of, weighted rubber moves and stretches with momentum, he’s squeezing you tighter and tighter and with each slam against your body his cock buries into you so impossibly deep as his skin stretches and snaps within you. You whine and try to steady him but Luffy’s in this cloud right now. His teeth are digging deep into your neck and he’s drooling all over you, saliva dripping down your shoulder and chest.

When he cums it’s so hot it feels like lava. There’s so much of it. That relief at the slowness, liquid soothing beaten flesh, that’s heaven as you lay beneath him, wrapped in his arms. Is it over? No, no it isn’t.

But first, while he’s stunned and unable to move, you squish his face in your hands. “Luffy,” you breathe heavily into his mouth, “be more gentle. Please. You’re gonna hurt me.”

His eyes are wide and concerned. “I hurt you?” he whimpers from his swollen, shiny lips.

“I’m ok, don’t worry, just please be more gentle.” And you smile at him. That sets something off in his heart and you feel him harden again inside you.

He grins, lifting you back so you’re pressed against his chest, on his lap. And he shoves you down against him as you squirm in his arms, he rolls your hips on his as his strong hands take total control of your body, hungry eyes gazing at you with deep, immeasurable lust. From this new position he has so much control, he’s using your body for his release in as loving a way as possible, biting at your skin. You’re left to twitch in his grasp and hug him, letting yourself bask in this incredible tsunami.

The bouncing and stretching of his cock isn’t as bad in this position although you’re still impossibly full, limp in the overwhelming motion. But that heat is becoming uncomfortable, your cheek from its rest on his shoulder is covered in layers of sweat and you feel it pooling around every point of contact. He smells like burning rubber and thick, palpable sweat. His skin begins to sear your hands and you only realize what’s happening when he starts to steam. Billowing steam clouding your room and soaking you in hot, wet air like you’re in an erupting volcano. You’re not sure which gear he’s changing to and you don’t want to find out.

“LUFFY!” You yell through your haze and hit his back and it’s so hard to talk to him like this, his moans are drowning out your cries, he’s moving faster and faster and his hair and mouth and the area between your legs is already lost in clouds of white steam. “STOP!”

He yelps and rolls off of you. Your words cut his heart. You’re both drenched and your bed is soaking, your hair in your eyes dripping down your face mixed with tears you didn’t even know were there. Luffy looks confused, disoriented, he’s still steaming but it’s slowing now, his skin is dulling to its usual hue, his hair falls back over his face. He doesn’t know what to say.

“You were changing gears,” you murmur under your breath. “Luffy, that could’ve been bad.”

“I’m- I’m sorry…” he whimpers and looks down at himself. There’s still a cloud of blinding steam circling up the shaft of his cock, blooming from his tip and shimmering in droplets rolling down the red, tight skin. He looks at you with puppy eyes, needing your arms again.

You let him crawl to you. You let him place his head under your hand to be pet and comforted. He feels terrible but he feels sick, too, a sickness only cured by the deepest and most indescribable pleasure. He’s melting in your arms, as needy as when he was given to you, eyes blurry. You let him rest his head in your lap and drink in your scent, blankets tucked between his legs for the slightest friction.

“It’ll feel better if you don’t go so fast,” you say softly, stroking his wet hair. And he nods.

“Can I have more now? I’ll be better to ya. I really promise.”

His hands feel gentler now. You let him climb your body and capture you in another deep kiss. And with your legs crossed behind his back you let him fuck you again and chase his second orgasm and he’s right, he’s better now. He’s fighting with his body but he’s better.

When he cums again it feels boiling hot. It’s shot after shot deep inside you and he tugs your hair, bites your shoulder, strokes your lower stomach before moving down to rub at your clit which is incredible because he never thinks of that. This drug is making him different, his mind is overwhelmed by sex in a way it never is. Part of you likes it a lot. It’s new. It’s fun.

It doesn’t take him long before he’s hard again and dragging his cock through your walls in deep, deliberate strokes with his tongue in your mouth. Luffy is a million miles above the earth. With every orgasm his world shakes and crumbles for an instant before it’s rebuilt again in waves of desire that send him higher, higher. He’s a million miles above the earth and even as hours slip by and his body is drained again and again, he can’t come down.

__________________________

At some point the ship has set sail again. Clouds crawl by the porthole and the ocean rocks you both but you and Luffy stay in that soaked bed and get lost in each other for so long that you don’t even know what’s real anymore. You can’t tell sensation from sensation. Neither can he but he can’t come down.

There was that perfect sweet spot where you had just swam in each other in bliss and peace. You didn’t have to stop his gear changes anymore because his body had adjusted to this new universe. And you were in tune with each other. But now, now it’s bad again.

But in a different way.

Luffy is exhausted but so desperate still. His tears have started again and he doesn’t know what to do and he can’t even move and every part of his body aches. You’ve never seen him like this during sex, he’s never weak or tired. But his body is drained.

But that drug won’t let go.

“You ok?” you’re whispering, hand on his face. You lift Luffy in your arms and place him on his back. His eyes won’t leave yours, he’s starry eyed and love struck through his tears.

“Mh…” is all you can make out. He looks down at himself, his body is dripping wet and his cock is hard again, throbbing hard in overstimulation.

Every touch seems like it’s painful to him now. But he wants more so, so bad. So you place a pillow under his head, you curl up against his body, and you rub him with your hand. Your arm gets tired but you keep going for as long as you possibly can. And sometimes Luffy will open his mouth in a silent, breathless moan, sometimes his body will convulse and his cock will twitch. But his orgasms are dry now. There’s nothing left in him.

The last one, that’s when he grabs your face. With his last bit of strength he rolls onto you and clutches your cheeks in his hands and just stares at you, not letting you move, his thighs squeezing your leg. He rubs himself off on you one last time and with a final shudder he’s done. It’s all gone. It’s over.

He collapses into your arms, too tired to breathe anymore. You expect him to just sleep right there but instead he twists onto his back, batting at your face with his palm lazily, playfully. He giggles. He looks dreamy and dazed. But happy, actually. Really happy.

“Feeling alright?” You’re worried. You’re guilty, still. You’re praying nothing hurt him or made him sick.

“Mhm. Feel good!” Luffy’s beaming as if he already forgot everything that happened. He’s glowing, chest rising and falling heavily. But he tilts his head questioningly, “you?”

“Yeah. Just sore.” To which he rolls onto his elbows, kicking his legs in the air, he holds your body, he gives your hips a soft kiss. He’s appreciative, he’s so soft now, honey skin glowing in the sleepy sunshine.

But everything is wet. Your clothes on the bed next to you, the sheets, your bodies and hair. So with your arms around his shoulders, because it will be hard to walk for a while, the two of you throw on robes and step outside. You forgot the smell of fresh sea air after that mist of sex and sweat. Luffy’s heart beats against yours, calm and healthy, steady.

He sets you down and you take him in your arms, now, laying him against the mast. You take a towel to his hair, drying him, the sun on the wind sending the dewdrops you’re made of falling away from your shoulders in rainbows. You’re glittering, you and Luffy.

You should get you both some food soon, you should give yourselves a real bath, you should go and comfort Zoro and assure him that you’re both ok. But not yet. You don’t want that yet.

You avoid the eyes of the others as they pass below. You don’t want to talk about this with anyone but Luffy right now, the boy who looks like an angel resting below you, chiseled glistening body, sunlight divinity. He opens his mouth, he kisses your fingertips as you brush hair from his cheeks.

He wants to talk to you at first but he finds that his eyes are too heavy. He just yawns instead, and bares his teeth in a smile. And he holds your hand tightly with this deep, profound gratitude. You hear him whisper, beneath his breath, that he loves you.

[artemiszy]

PRETTY THINGS | Gyutaro X Reader

Gyutaro x Oiran!Reader

"When an angel appears in the life of a boy who has been hurt his whole life."

WARNING. Violence, blood, minor character death, open ending. FEMALE READER

Gyutaro was an ugly child, from a young age he was able to recognize this. His sick mother who constantly tried to kill him before he could even leave her womb because he was an ugly child; the way citizens in the streets looked away in disgust in his presence and some threw stones at him because he was an ugly child.

And ugly children never have a good place in this world.

However, this could still be used to one's advantage. He began to use his appearance to mess with people, and he enjoyed seeing them afraid.

But he still recognized that he was an ugly child.

He still knew that no one but his little sister would look kindly on him; with pacience; and much less with love. And he had already accepted, everything was fine, he could continue surviving as a debt collector with attempts to at least be able to make Ume have something close to a dignified life.

If only they had been born into a higher hierarchy, maybe people wouldn't care that he was so despicable.

During another of his countless attempts to find something to survive, Gyutaro was once again mistreated. He received a black eye from a vendor who accused him of stealing eggs, something that was confirmed when the adult man shook the boy in poor condition and from his tattered kimono fell one of the eggs, which broke upon contact with the floor.

There were women in the distance laughing at the boy who, despite being beaten, would not release the eggs at all. It was his and Ume's dinner! They hadn't eaten in days!

— "Now... I'm going to teach you a lesson, you little shit!" — The furious man raised his fist again.

Falling to the ground, Gyutaro just waited for the next blow, something he was already used to, it wasn't the first time and it certainly wouldn't be the last.

But the next blow never came, instead he heard a voice.

— "Stop this!"

It was a soft and peaceful voice, despite being loud, something that caught the attention of the salesman who stopped beating the boy. When he looked at the owner of the voice, Gyutaro's mind stopped, seeing a girl as beautiful and charming as the jewels that he would never be able to even touch. She was the same age as Gyutaro, her silky (h/c) hair was loose and she wore a simple light lilac colored kimono.

— "Stop this!" — The girl walked towards them with firm (e/c) eyes. — "Look at his condition!"

— "He stole from me! That's what this little shit deserves!" — The salesman growled. — "Go away if you don't want to get beaten too!"

The young girl's eyes went over Gyutaro, who was on the floor panting with blood running down his nose, she seemed to understand his situation when analyzing his appearance. He was poor and those eggs could be a necessity to survive.

— "If that's so..." — She sighed and removed a bag from inside the sleeve of her kimono. — "They're just eggs... that should be enough." — She took two coins from the bag and threw them to the man.

— "Huh?!" — The man raised his eyebrow, grabbing the coins. — "What you—"

— "There's your payment! Now go away." — The girl looked at the adult angrily.

Without saying anything else, the man growled softly and just accepted the payment, leaving in silence. Gyutaro quickly looked at the eggs stored inside his kimono and they were still intact, he sighed with relief knowing that he wouldn't need to eat insects again to survive.

— "Everything is fine?" — One of the girl's hands reached out to him.

Her hands were delicate and small, having a great contrast when compared to Gyutaro's calloused and dirty hands.

He felt a little remorseful about holding the girl's hand in front of him, as if he would contaminate her. She was beautiful, god, she was so beautiful. Why was a pretty child like her worrying about an ugly child like him?

— "I... I can get up by myself..." — Gyutaro murmured, getting up with a little difficulty.

Gyutaro felt surprised when the girl's hands grabbed one of his arms to help him get up.

— "Why are you helping me?" — He held himself back so as not to appear so aggressive. — "Do you want something in return by any chance?" — He clicked his tongue. — "I can't give anything back...!"

— "Hm?" — Her big (e/c) eyes blinked. — "I don't want anything in return."

— "Then why did you help me?" — Gyutaro closed his fist tightly. — "I... I don't need charity!"

— "That man was hurting you a lot and intended to hurt you even more." — She replied, seriously. — "You couldn't find any means of survival with your broken limbs, don't you think?"

Gyutaro stopped for a moment, she was right.

— "Your lack of response only proves me right."

Seeing that he had no choice, he let out a sigh. — "Thank you..." — He lowered his head. — "I really didn't want my little sister to go hungry another night..."

The mention of his little sister seems to have surprised the girl. She quickly removed the small bag from before again and took out about six coins, placing them in Gyutaro's palm.

— "Use it to buy food." — She said, leaving Gyutaro surprised again.

— "Huh?!" — He widened his eyes. — "Why are you still helping me? If you want something, just say it at once!"

The girl snorted. — "I already answered you, I don't want anything in return!" — She clicked her tongue. — "You seem like the type of person who isn't used to acts of kindness."

She was right.

In silence, Gyutaro nodded.

The girl's face seemed sad but she looked at him kindly. A look he had never received before from anyone other than his sister.

She continued. — "My name is (Name)."

— "...Gyutaro."

— "I hope to see you around, Gyutaro-kun." — (Name) smiled and left waving.

Gyutaro remained in the same place, motionless and in complete silence, watching the beautiful girl's silhouette disappear from his sight. He put the coins in a pocket of his kimono and then looked back in the direction in which (Name) disappeared.

He wished he could see her again.

(...)

— "(Name)!" — A woman with a chubby face threw huge fabrics of different colors and prints on top of the girl. — "Clean it up!"

The girl just bowed and went to the back garden of the pleasure house so she could clean the kimono fabrics. Being an oiran's apprentice, she still had a lot to learn, and cleaning for her 'older sister' under the order of the lady of the house was one of them.

(Name) never bothered about it, except when Aimi-oiran yelled at her because of delays or other trivial matters that the apprentice never cared much to hear about.

One of those brief moments of reverie was when (Name) felt something not very hard hitting the back of her head as she rubbed the fabrics inside the bucket of water.

That is, at that exact moment.

(Name)'s eyes narrowed and she removed what hit her from the top of her head, seeing a small bag of coins. Still with the object in hand, the girl stood up and looked back over her shoulder, seeing Aimi-oiran standing under the engawa corridor, staring at the younger girl with a serious expression.

— "Stop what you're doing and go buy food!" — Demanded the oiran.

Aimi-oiran was wearing a pretty kimono, even though she was disheveled and it was still daylight. (Name) just nodded with a small bow and let another apprentice in the house finish her work with the sheets.

Outside, the district was busy as always, and (Name) was careful not to be robbed at that time of day.

The girl walked calmly towards the place where she knew she sold what Aimi-oiran liked to eat, looking around and having some glimpses of what was happening in the district during that moment; some sellers shouting, people talking and even fighting. There was also smoke from something that smelled good coming from somewhere.

In a more isolated area of ​��the district, where there were few people. (Name) caught the eye of a little girl not so far away, who seemed to flinch and look away quickly when she noticed the oiran apprentice saw her.

The little girl had white hair and blue eyes, wearing a tattered light pink kimono. She looked at the boy next to her who had his back to (Name) and started to pull his arm and say something.

What (Name) could hear because the girl didn't seem discreet at all.

— "Onii-chan, look! Is that the girl you talked about?" — The little girl shook her brother's arm as if she wanted to get his attention as quickly as possible.

— "Huh?" — The boy looked confused and looked over his shoulder at (Name), less than a second later he turned his full attention to his sister. — "UME!" — He shouted in a whisper, trying to silence his sister. — "Be quiet...!!!"

— "But look!" — The girl, Ume, got excited and pointed at (Name). — "She has the same beautiful (e/c) eyes you described!"

(Name) felt confused for a moment but was surprised when she realized that she knew that boy.

— "Huh? Gyutaro, is that you?" — She approached.

Gyutaro seemed to stiffen. Beside him, Ume perked up even more.

— "Are you (Name)?" — Ume practically jumped in front of her with an excited smile. — "Onii-chan couldn't stop talking about you!"

— "Ume!" — Gyutaro turned around with teeth grinding. — "I already told you to be quiet!"

— "He kept saying how a pretty girl appeared like an angel and— HMMF!"

Ume's speech was cut off when Gyutaro covered her mouth with one of his hands. Then looking at (Name) with his typical dead fish eyes, but he seemed pleasant when looking at the girl in front of him.

— "My bad..." — He said, Ume struggling furiously to take his hand away from her mouth, but to no avail. — "Sometimes my little sister can be a little silly..."

— "It's been a few weeks since we've seen each other." — (Name) gave a pleasant laugh. — "So... this is your little sister?"

Ume finally managed to take Gyutaro's hand away from her mouth, and looked at (Name) with an excited face.

— "I'm Ume! When onii-chan talked about you, I really got excited!"

— "You are adorable." — (Name) smiled and passed her hand on the top of Ume's head, who let out a happy laugh.

Gyutaro seemed happy to see the two together.

— "You are very beautiful! Are you an oiran?" — Ume asked.

— "Actually, I'm training to be one. Maybe next year I'll become one."

— "Cool!" — Ume became even more excited. — "I'm going to be one too, you know? Everyone says I'm very beautiful!"

— "Oh yes, you are." — (Name) nodded with a gentle smile on her face. — "Maybe you'll be my kamuro one day."

(Name)'s words seemed to cheer Ume up even more.

— "I liked her, onii-chan!" — Ume started shaking Gyutaro's arm once again while pointing at (Name). — "I liked her!"

— "Okay, okay, Ume!" — Gyutaro grumbled. — "I liked her too." — He accidentally let go, and the moment he turned away with a grunt, but his little sister could notice the blush on his face.

— "Onii-chan!" — The little girl's eyes widened and she laughed happily. — "You are in love?!"

— "What?! No! Ume, be quiet before I shove rocks in your mouth!"

But Ume just laughed, which caused soft giggles from (Name) as well.

(...)

As the months passed, Gyutaro would secretly show up to visit (Name), sometimes bringing Ume with him. Sometimes they would sneak out in the dead of night to wander the streets of the districts and get some interesting things, like enough coins to play at festivals.

Even after they both reached adolescence and (Name) finally became an oiran, which made access to her even more difficult. But even so, Gyutaro kept going to see her.

And during one fateful night, Gyutaro smelled blood while climbing outside to (Name)'s room.

Upon jumping into the room and putting his feet on the tatami, Gyutaro felt extremely uneasy when he didn't see (Name) just a faint light coming from the other side of the fusuma door. Cautiously, he followed, inwardly fearing what he might find.

The boy didn't feel surprised or scared when he saw a man's corpse sprawled on the mat with a pool of blood pooling in it. The guy appeared to be middle-aged and had a knife stuck in his throat, along with an expression of horror on his face, despite being already dead. Gyutaro had seen dead bodies all his life, one more wouldn't make a difference. But he still felt extremely uneasy when he saw a dead body in (Name)'s room.

With her back to the corpse and also to Gyutaro, closer to the wall, (Name) gently brushed her lips red in front of a mirror.

— "...(Name)?" — Gyutaro called her.

She took a while to respond, but when her voice came, she put the brush down on the table and spoke softly.

— "It's over."

— "What's over?" — Gyutaro approached, and noticed how (Name)'s bloody hand was shaking, despite her calm posture.

— "I killed this man. They will find out soon."

Gyutaro let out a tired sigh and bent down in front of (Name), making her turn towards him. — "Tell me what happened."

— "This man... he wanted to marry me." — (Name) informed.

Gyutaro felt relieved that the bastard was dead.

She continued. — "But... it got worse every night. He kept coming back and coming back, it was scaring me..." — She practically spat. — "And then... he tried to take me by force, when I refused once again."

— "(Name)..." — Gyutaro brushed away the strands of hair stuck to the girl's forehead, who was sweating coldly as she stared blankly at the corpse behind the boy. — "Why didn't you tell me? I could have dealt with this bastard on the streets!" — He grumbled.

(Name) let out a melancholic sigh. — "It wouldn't work... he was a samurai. I didn't want to put you in danger. But it's too late now. They'll come soon and discover the body, and I'll be killed for my crime."

Gyutaro's eyes widened in fierce fury.

— "That won't happen!" — He grabbed (Name)'s hands.

— "It's nothing to do!" — The oiran whimpered. — "Get out of here while there's still time. Bad things will happen to you if they find you here!"

But Gyutaro didn't move, instead, he pressed (Name)'s bloody hands against his own chest and walked closer, his gaze becoming determined, as if he had spent his entire life preparing to utter the words he was about to say. .

— "Then come with me."

(Name)'s wet eyes widened with furrowed eyebrows and a confused look on her face.

— "...Huh?"

— "Run away with me." — Gyutaro asked once again. — "Let's get out of here and never come back. With the money I got from collecting debts and you from your job as a courtesan, we could get out of here. Me, you and Ume."

(Name) remained silent, staring at Gyutaro without a certain expression for him to identify, perhaps just surprise.

— "(Name)... I love you." — Gyutaro finally let go, holding the girl's hands even more firmly against his chest. — "I love you and I have loved you since the day you appeared like an angel in my life, everyone has always judged me but not you. There is nothing I love more in this world than you and my sister, you two are everything to me. And that's why I I need to tell you this, even though you might not feel the same way."

Gyutaro considered himself ugly and repulsive, his whole life he was judged by other damned people and treated not even worthy of pity.

He expected (Name) to rip her hands out of his, slap him, and then scream and accuse him of killing that man. However, Gyutaro was surprised when that girl's delicate, blood-stained hands grabbed his face on either side and pulled him into a kiss.

A kiss that seems to have lasted an eternity, and Gyutaro would stay in it for another eternity if he could.

When the two separated, (Name) ran the thumb of her left hand across Gyutaro's cheekbone, wiping away a single, solitary tear that fell from his eye. The boy not even caring about the blood on his face.

Gyutaro stood up, holding the same hand that (Name) used to wipe away his tear.

— "I'll go down first, when I'm down there, you jump and I'll hold you, okay?"

This had been in my drafts for over a year, so why not?

[twistedpink]

Mc inserts x TWST characters pt.2

(non-yuu pairings that fit into the plot of twst, if you like this then you might want to look at the first part!)

Savanclaw!Mc x Cater Diamond

Enemies to lovers with your favourite diva!! The two of you compete constantly through magicam and spelldrive, getting progressively pettier until the only solution is to kiss it out.. You’re trying to keep an ear out for your junior, and it just so happens Cater’s sniffing out your plan to go for gold in this year’s tournament. You might as well take the chance to mess with him! It’s so easy to love the face he makes when you give him the slip, and you’re totally making it your wallpaper when this is all over.

“Yo, Babe! If you’re in the same dorm, then you know Ruggie, yeah? We need to have a chat”

“Ohmigod you totally think all beastmen know each other, don’t you?? cancled :)”

Shroud!Mc x Vil Schoenheit

Ids attached himself to engineering and gaming pretty early, but your passion is fully unattainable. You’d clung onto pop idols and the art of stage makeup from an early age. Your longest running interest by far is Vil Schoenheit,, He rescued you from destructive habits and encouraged you to value self improvement. You’ve probably invested millions into his career (every thaumark sent anonymously, you’d die if he started to recognize your attached messages). Supporting Ortho in his SDC audition is your official reason to talk with him, and all the teasing from Idia will be so worth it when your Schoenheit debut palette gets signed! You’ve kept it in mint condition behind glass for years admiring it- and waiting for THE day.

“Mr. Schoenheit? My younger brother performed for you today, and uh, your signature please?”

“Normally I’d send both of you home for this. I’m sure you’re well aware of my paparazzi policy, However, I haven’t seen this particular relic in years! Just what have you done to preserve the quality?”

Pomefiore!Mc x Ruggie Bucchi

You’re #1 in the business of pissing off your parents- shopping copious amounts and then going to school across the country satiated you for awhile, but they’ve done something particularly revenge worthy now. The best scandal you can think of is getting a trashy boytoy to bring home for the break, but you’re not really into idiots.. Ruggie can be a very good actor given the right motivations, and he might even fool you into a real relationship before next semester.

“C’mon it’s not like I’ll need a script, sugar. I’m a natural, scout’s honor!”

“Either way, it won’t hurt to rehearse for convenience :/ Kiss me now so we don’t look stupid later.”

Scarabia!Mc x Floyd leech

God you hate that fish faced idiot >:( It’s bad enough that the housewarden’s moodswings guaranteed your holiday plans were all shot, but now Jamil’s getting hounded by the mafia! It’s your responsibility to get them off his back, but it’s not like you’re enjoying it. Somehow it’s even worse to watch Floyd when he’s playing dumb, and his emotional roller coaster keeps you walking on eggshells. The show must go on though, and if you’ve gotta play “wrestle until the biting stops” then you’ll do it :/

“Floyd, it’s dinner time, and I will tear you a new one if it means you’ll get moving.”

“PLEASEEEE tiger sharky just one more round :( I’ll even give your pen back!!”

Octavinelle!Mc x Kalim Al-Asim

You’re probably one of the most talkative of octavinelle students, and definitely a solid salesman. Kalim’s a prime target for resales and marketing practice, so naturally you join the pop music club. A year of “playing nice for the jackpot” leads you to lie awake at night, terrified that he’ll see through your facade and ditch you- it would cut off your best friendship, you’d be forced to leave the club! At some point you realize you’d stopped selling him things months ago, and your worst nightmare happened right under your nose. You fell in love.

“Hey, that solo was so inspiring! You’re really making progress!”

“It still isn’t on par with yours, though. Are you available to keep practicing after school? I’m sure Jamil would appreciate the break, and I would enjoy the company..”

Staff!Mc x Lilia Vanrouge

Of course your first job would come with some pet bat, it was too good to be true :( Full time at a bits and bobs shop near one of the best schools in the country WITH flexible hours? You must’ve been desperate to accept without reading about your babysitting in the footnote. He comes in everyday during your shift (regardless of the hours you take, it’s like he has a sixth sense), and has the audacity to exist in your space! It’s not like he even does anything to get banned!! He just stands there. Menacingly. You’re waiting for the day where he leaves convincing evidence that he’s there to traffic you or something- because if you didn’t know better you’d think he has a big, fat crush on you.

“Darling, how is the shop? I’ve taken care of those juvenile delinquents for you!”

“Taken care of? Whatever. Get back to class, kid.”

[pocket-watcher]

The following is a collab between myself and the amazing @blissful23 !

Ding-Dong

The doorbell sounded and Suzie looked up from styling her long, blonde hair in the mirror. This always happens when she’s just getting ready to go out! She had readjusted the shirt she had “borrowed” from her roommate, as it was slightly too tight, checked her eyeliner was even for the 50th time, and was just finishing her lipstick with a satisfied pop.

She sighed frustratedly, stood up, and made her way to the source of the offending sound. Opening the front door, she was greeted by a man she’d never seen before. Dark hair and - oh God - a curled moustache framed a sharp featured face, adorned with a rather ostentatious top hat. Finely attired in a black suit, jacket resplendent with coattails, he gave a slight bow in greeting. It took all her willpower not to outright laugh in the face of this antiquity standing before her.

“Good day ma’am, it’s a fine afternoon, is it not?”

She stood, arms crossed in exaggerated frustration, staring back at him.

“How can I help you… Sir?”

She put the extra emphasis on that last word, wishing him to know quite pointedly that she was being interrupted. He smiled in return - whether it was sincere or strained in response to her standoffishness, she couldn’t tell.

“Well, you see my dear, I’m selling these very fine pocketwatches.”

With exaggerated flourish, he swept his coat open, revealing a dazzling array of pocketwatches hanging on the inside of it. He held it in place, and as if by magic - more likely the momentum of him opening his coat, she thought to herself - each of the pocketwatches begun swinging in unison. Probably a bit of showmanship designed to wow a potential customer, but still, it was fascinating to watch as they swung back and forth, back… and forth… back…

Suzie shook her head, dispelling a sudden onset of light-headedness, and redressed her gaze to The Salesman. He pulled his coat closed and smiled once more. A little less sure of her cold reception to him initially, she spoke again.

“Those are very lovely, but… I have no real need of a pocketwatch.” She said, gesturing to her phone.

“Ah, but my dear, you didn’t even take notice of our finest model!”

She bristled inwardly at being addressed as “my dear” again, and fixed her gaze to the pocketwatch he was now dangling in front of her face. It was silver, hooked by a long thin strap. The outer shell had some sort of pattern cut out of it to reveal the clock face behind, but with the shell popped open she couldn’t quite tell what was meant to be on the front. The spindling hands on the clock ticked away excitedly.

“Look at this gorgeous embedded crystal, and how it changes in the light! Let me swing it so you can see how it changes colour in the light…”

As he began swinging it from side to side, her jaw almost instantly fell agape at the sight of it, finding herself unable to draw her soft, blue eyes away from it.

"So many colours! Which colour do you prefer?" 

It was so hard to decide. So many splendid, beautiful colours to pick from. She tried to follow them as they shifted moment to moment. It was hard to think of a favourite. So hard to think… was all Suzie’s mind could muster for the moment, her thoughts, plans for the day, all of them fading away, replaced by her fascination with the tantalising kaleidoscope dancing before her eyes.

"I, uhh.... c-colours..."

The Salesman smiled wide. It wasn’t always this easy, but they all ended up this way eventually.

"Yes, pretty colours... and as each one shines, your worries and cares fade just that little bit more..."

Not having to think and just being able to enjoy the colours did sound nice to Suzie. Joyous, even; and she allowed herself a little giggle at the suggestion. She tried to help him how wonderful that sounded, but her mind was already so devoid of thought, all she could utter was:

"Hee-hee… colours...!"

Knowing he had her right where he wanted her, The Salesman followed on with his scheme.

“Can you hear the ticking? No? Maybe you should invite me inside where it’s quieter so you can really focus in on the sound…”

Had she heard the ticking? She wasn’t sure. Probably best to listen to him. A dull, errant thought in the back of Suzie’s near-blank mind warned that this was a bad idea, but was immediately overruled by the obedient thrall she found herself in.

"Uhhh… Won't you... nghh... won't you... please come in..."

“My dear, I thought you’d never ask…”

—

As he stepped through the doorway, another voice could be heard deeper inside.

“Suzie? You haven’t seen my top, have you? The low-cut one with the ruffles - oh.”

Suzie’s roommate Miranda - a stunning redhead - entered the room. Always a favourite, those, The Salesman thought to himself. She stopped upon seeing him eyeing her.

“Uh… hello. And you are?” Miranda asked, curiously, confused at the way Suzie stood there smiling blankly at her.

“He’s�� He sells… pocketwatches…” Suzie answered for the strange man.

“Yes, and I’m so pleased to make your acquaintance. Would you like to take a look, my dear?”

“No, thank you. We,” Miranda looked sternly at Suzie, “are actually running late. So if you’ll excuse us…”

Suzie didn’t move, however. As Miranda went to grab her arm she simply smiled up at her.

“But… They’re so pretty…” She said, as if she struggled with every word.

The Salesman pulled out the watch. “See for yourself.”

Miranda looked at him, exacerbated, before huffing, turning back to Suzie in confusion. 

“Come on. We’re leaving.”

"But they’re so pretty..." Suzie whined. “Just take a closer look. You know you want to…”

Miranda looked. She couldn’t see anything special about this pocketwatch. Though, truth be told, she was struggling to take in any of the details as she tried to follow it with her hazel eyes. If only this guy would stop swinging it in front of her… back… and forth… and…

“What, are you trying to hypnotise me into buying one or something?” She laughed. But, then, she thought…

Looking at her usually headstrong friend standing quietly with her eyes tracking the watch’s every movement, everything seemed to click into place.

“Aha… w-wait. You’re not… You’re not actually trying to… right…?” 

Miranda was getting nervous, hiding it behind laughter. No. Of course he wasn’t. Hypnosis wasn’t real.

“My God, you are trying to hypnotise… me, aren’t you? And what have you done to Suzie? I’ve had enough of this, please leave.”

The Salesman frowned at this, placing his watch back inside of his jacket. She was going to be tougher. Luckily, he liked a challenge. Reaching into his jacket once more, his fingers brushed along the watches until he found… yes. Perfect.

“But my dear, you haven’t seen our Timepiece de Resistance…” He pulled out a small golden watch. Its chain was more detailed than the other, with a texture almost like woven vines. The numbers were roman numerals. Or were they? Miranda couldn’t tell. 

Shit. She’d been staring at it, hadn’t she?

Miranda covered her eyes and turned away,

“We call it that because it’s the Timepiece that causes all your resistance to melt away…”

His voice was deep in her brain now. It was so… so tempting to look back at him. And Suzie’s pleasant hums of approval weren’t helping.

“No, I won’t… you’re not going to… hypno… hypnotise… me…” Miranda managed, looking up to see Suzie had walked over to her. 

“Go on… just a little look… it would feel so good, Miranda…” Suzie spoke softly, almost dreamlike.

Then another thought hit her. If Suzie could sneak up on her, this guy could be anywhere! She had to check for certain if he was still between them and the door. 

She looked up at him and her attention was captured by the watch once more.

“Get… get out…” Miranda said as firmly as she could manage.

“Please calm down… You don’t need to be so on edge, so angry… Maybe you didn’t get enough sleep last night…”

Her eyes started to droop. All this fighting was exhausting. The only easy thing right now was keeping her eyes on that watch.

“No, I… I don’t need to… sleep… I’m completely…” She tried to stifle a yawn “… Awake…”

“We both know that’s not true, my dear… Look at you. You’re struggling to stay awake. You can barely keep your eyes open…”

Her hands, once balled into fists, were now relaxed and hung limply by her side. Miranda found herself struggling to keep her eyes open.

“No… I’m not - yawn - sleepy…”

The man approached her, guiding her over to the couch, where Suzie had, at some point, also had found herself.

“There’s no need to fight it anymore… You want to give in to it… You want to surrender to slumber…”

“Surrender… to slumber…” Miranda felt a smile grow on her own face as she repeated after him, her weary eyelids now stuck at half-mast. 

“That’s it…” He looked at his pocket watch. Another job well done.

“Well, ladies, it appears I may have lost track of time.” He chuckled, leading the girls to giggle mindlessly… although, they weren’t quite sure why they were laughing. But Master was so funny, wasn’t he?

“I’ll just leave this here.” The Salesman said as he placed a business card on the coffee table in front of them. “In case you know anyone else who might appreciate my services, hm?” 

He watched as Suzies head slowly slumped onto Miranda’s shoulders, both girls blissfully asleep. He straightened his hat, closed the door behind him, and moved onto the next house.

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

i think you've done this with the worst ones already but top 5 favorite canon riddle guy designs in comics for you

god this is one of the hardest asks I've ever received. he kind of wears the same shit with small variations in most comics and it would be so much easier and this would definitely be a different like if I could include non-comic designs. but I think. I think I've done this.

5.) Tim Sale's absolutely WRETCHED Dark Victory (1999) Riddler... this is a newt of some kind. pathetic. a stuffed animal rescued from a damp parking lot.

4.) I really like the Riddler in Batman: A New Dawn (2009) because he's just Some Dude. like he's just a used car salesman. who does riddle crimes. he's not exaggeratedly ugly he's not some freakish little creature he's not trying to be a hot prettyboy like more recent Riddlers he's just hanging out making silly faces in a pretty standard outfit. he's so perfect to me.

3.) just THE classic Riddler question mark leotard with purple gloves + mask, shown here in Detective Comics Annual #8 (1995).

2.) the classic costume but with a broken arm to be twice as pathetic. these examples come from Detective Comics #662 (1993) and somewhere in Detective Comics #705-#707 (1997). if I had a nickel, etc.

1.) the fucking. frog suit. from the Batman Adventures Vol. 2 #11 (2004). this issue makes him much cuter (in a weasel way) than his animated counterpart and SOOOO expressive, so I'm very fond of him in general but this outfit in particular is everything to me. that's my scringly little blorbo bleebus in his little climbing outfit.

[r0-boat]

If Honkai star rail men had GWA accouts. Part 1?

Nsfw

Read Part 2 here

Cw: predator and prey, noncon, mentions of blood, breeding, creampie, pet play, power play, size kink

Gn! Reader x Caelus, Sampo, Blade, Jing Yuan

Caelus

Caelus literally posts whatever he wants. However, primarily ramble-faps, where his listeners can listen to how vocal he becomes when his hand is around his wet, leaking cock. His whimper is moans and pleads to be inside you all for you to hear

But no matter if it's a shit post meant to make you laugh or something serious, his audio will always have some sort of storyline.

Usually his predator&prey/noncon are his most popular for good reason, too; Caelus who makes it sound like he's tossing you around, growling and grunting in your ear while he pins you down onto the ground. His breath shakes as he tries to inhale more air and your scent, all the while using all of his strength to keep you from moving or getting away from him, his mouth drooling from the thought of taking you right here and now. And he will tell you this, coo about how you're so small and weak underneath him. He has caught you, and now you should rightfully submit to him.

Caelus is a switch, and he is not afraid to show every dark desire he has on his account. Sometimes a guy just wants to wear pretty makeup and then get fucked to the point where that makeup smears all over his face; or whimper for his master to let him cum.

Pet names for listener

Babe/baby

Darling

Sampo

Whimpering audios. Just kidding, if you want those, you'll have to pay him ;). Most, if not all, of his audio is where he spends weeks or months writing a script and making it are all paywalled, and he takes great pride in his work. ( though he hopes to God no one recognizes him in public)

First had the idea of prostituting his sexy voice for free money now he's far too deep and actually will get upset if you say his work is garbage. Excuse you his audios are a work of art he's already in A+ actor he doesn't need your criticism.

Sampo is very pan so of course, he's going to make audio pandering to his fellow Pansexuals. It can make his tone and Pitch higher to match up more feminine voice, so a lot of his threesome audios are just himself role-playing with himself.

As a good salesman mixed with the audience's wants, and if his audience wants to be called a good boy, girl, or toy, then who is he to refuse? Most of his audio has some form of praise kink. He just can't help but say nothing but nice things to his beloved fans. His most popular audios, however, are the ones where he either objectifies himself or objectifies the listener treating them as a prized possession or a slutty fuck toy.

Pet names for listener

Babe/baby

Beautiful/handsome

Doll

Blade

all his audios are dead dove or very dark. He treats his poor listeners like nothing more than a piece of meat for him to tear apart. His audios are seriously not for the faint of heart especially those who are more squeamish too pain or mentions of blood.

His audios are just a way for him to get off, so he hardly ever edits and pretty much only does the scripts he likes from other people. Though it would be lying if Blade said he didn't like all the attention he'd been getting, so he gets a new mic, a better one, so it could pick up the sounds of his wet cock when he strokes it.

His favorite scripts to do is yandere, noncon or any type of Slashers; Blade is most active during the fall mostly October when those type of content is more likely produced. If his audience isn't scared and aroused the same time then he's not doing a good job... he usually is not one to collab, but Jing Yuan asked(begged him) to collab and the script he sent was so delicious that he just had to show up.

In any audio he does he likes to be mean and degrade and use your body, even if he does softer audios where he's more gentle and loving he still likes to be on the snarky side he can't spoil you all rotten now can he?

Pet names for listener

Whore

Bitch

Fuck doll

Cocksleeve.

Jing Yuan

Says he does it as a hobby but has not only the best Mic but has that Mic where his voice will be on either side of you. He loves the praise he gets from his adoring fans, that seems to Hell and back over his sexy voice. Even though he only does the audios he wants to hear his fans will eat it up like it's breakfast lunch and dinner.

He almost exclusively does Scripts and occasionally ramblefaps. However, when something you know is on his mind and he's so horny he can't think, and the scripts he finds just aren't scratching that itch, he'll do it himself.

He prefers audio is where he is in a position of power over the listener he loves power play with a bit of size kink. Most of his audio has breeding or creampie. Talking about how his big cock is stretching you out and that he's close to cumming inside you gets him off so much.

However his most favorite is one of a pet play kink where he lends his dear pet to Blade but not before teaching him how to take care of you properly and how you need love, care, and praise. However blade rolling his eyes just tells him that he is spoiling you and proceeds to destroy your holes with his fat cock and degrade you while Jing Yuan watches, slowly stroking himself.

Pet nemes

Pet

Dear

Beloved

Sweetheart

[fatgumsurpremacy-remastered]

Listen dude listen-

Yandere Vox with a fat fem reader is insane to meeeee I need to write

Tw: Vox being creepy, time period fat phobia (1950s), 50s diet culture shit, reader doesn’t fucking care bc that shit was stupid and the only time she’s self conscious is when Vox is being gross n weird, Gossip, inappropriate behavior, stalking, coercion (nonsexual), noncon touching, Vox saying nasty shit but no actual smut, hypno later in the story.

When You’re Just You- Yandere Vox x Fat Fem reader

Being alive was always a hassle, and being dead was even worse. Because in death you realized quickly that the freak on TV was the same freak who plagued your existence when you were alive… and he was untouchable.

When you were alive you lived in a teeny tiny little suburban neighborhood; with white picket fences and houses in pretty neat rows. You were surprised your parents made it to the neighborhood but supposed you’d be grateful for the gifts god had given you. So you grew up, graduated high school and delved headfirst into the 1950’s!

What a time to be alive.

Men fawned over ladies they saw at the parlor or even at the grocers, with little respect for themselves making it a sight to see a man fumble only to speak to you normally.

Because you- were approachable.

At least from what they could see.

Yes, they’d grown to expect a petite woman with 'flowy' dresses and perfect hair. A beautiful skirt, they chased, hoping to catch and mount like a trophy on the wall. To their credit- a good amount of women in your town fit the bill- and let you know it. Though that truly didn’t matter, you’d smile happily at them and tell them they were lucky, and loved, and beautiful.

But you’d throw in just how nice your dress looked on you and with that they’d compliment right back. While some were backhanded others genuinely agreed, and those were the ladies you spent your time around.

Men seemed to not care and would spare you only 'good mornings', or quick and casual chats at the diner when their fling hadn’t waltzed in.

It was cozy until they made comments that would make you screw up your face in disgust.

“And I suppose you’d know all about a woman’s body wouldn’t you Dick?”

The man would pull at his tie with a sheepish grin, turning away in embarrassment, not bothering to close the conversation. And for a while- it was nice.

Till Tom Leery introduced you to a friend of his. The man was only introduced as Vox- a nickname obtained in high school; a tv salesman extraordinaire, and an eligible bachelor of 34.

When Tom broached the subject to you on a sunny afternoon visit to your parents porch to deliver some mail you’d wanted to scoff.

“Please Tommy, you hardly speak of me much less brag about me. How would this man even know I exist!” But Tom would insist-

“I’m tellin you! He popped up one day and started yappin away about you. He’s love sick, and has been crawling up my spine beggin me to ask you to see him for a date!” Tom begged, hands clasped together so hard you could see them going from white to red, to white again.

And so you relented.

You’d see this “eligible bachelor” and tell him off so royally for ruining an evening you could spend listening to jazz and shooting it with your family.

But when you went outside that fateful night you thought your eyes decived you. A handsome man in a boxy navy suit, light blue undershirt, and a red tie. His black hair seemed to catch every highlight from his outfit. He was more tan than others but his eyes were this... piercing blue.

He looked like a regular Superman, and his smile fit the bill.

It was a damn shame his mouth didn’t.

That’s why your father didn’t approve.

The moment he caught your form he smiled wildly, and it would’ve been a small fairytale moment had it not been for the sharp whistle that came after.

“Well! Look who it is, how are you doing gorgeous?” And for a moment you were flabbergasted, you checked behind you to only spot your animals in the window, and dad barely hidden in the small crack of the doorway.

“Excuse me?” You’d say to his amusement as he started his way up to your home.

“Gorgeous!” He’d repeat, before stopping in front of you, tall, broad frame leering over you before he’d take your hand and give it a kiss that lasted entirely too long. You’d ponder giving the date up and moving back inside had it not been for Tom’s insistence. “You ready to burn rubber?”

“I’d rather not be in the car with an arsonist thank you.” You replied, and the response etched itself into a part of Vox’s brain.

“Smart woman!” He’d say, which would've sound condescending if it weren’t for his posture, stiff and shaking, eyes lidded and foot tapping impatiently. “Should’ve known you’d be witty, not like the rest of the girls here huh?”

And that wouldve rubbed you the wrong way. Had you been less polite you might have bit out a cutting remark on his own beauty, but you held back. After all it was time you let yourself be treated to something nice.

So soon you were off. And the date started when his black Coronet whizzed down the road, barely giving you time to click into the front seat and adjust to your chair.

“So- what’s your favorite time of day? You got a favorite dog breed? If you were put in a room with 3 men who would you feel safest around and haha- you don’t have to say me. I wouldn’t be offended. If you did though- why?” Vox would spew questions at a rate that made you wonder if he just liked hearing himself talk- meaning you barely got time to answer one before he insufferably pulled you up and into a huge restaurant nearly two towns over.

“This is a tad-“

“Shabby? Yeah I called for reservations uptown but your dad said no. So here we are,” Vox would sigh as if your father’s judgement was so wrong before smiling again and grabbing your hands with his, “But maybe you can convince him to let us next time!”

Reservations grasped at the strung nerves in your body the more time you spent with him, as his hand met yours any chance it could get. As he yapped away about sales and meetings, or pitches for shows that he would air on tv.

“So I sent the script into Dan around two o’clock that afternoon and he never got back to me!”

“Uh huh…”

“What kind of a cop out is that? You think you know a guy… do you want to hear what it’s about?”

“Have you even ordered yet?” He’d be taken aback by this, smiling shyly before coming back full force.

“I’ve actually been waiting to see what you’re getting… I have trust in your appetite…”

The insinuation wasn’t lost on you, it surprised you however- was his tone alongside the hand that only seemed to crawl further up your arm resting on the table.

One you withdrew quickly into yourself as you blinked owlishly back at him.

“I’m sorry?”

“You want me to order for you? Why didn’t you just say anything- oh and hey! You don’t worry about seconds or anything I’ve got it covered. Have to keep my girl well-“

“Just get me a salad.” It was his turn to act baffled as he pulled out his wallet and looked at you incredulously, throwing his hands out like you insulted him before looking around and leaning an arm on the table.

He spoke like he was telling you a secret and expecting one in return.

“You’re beautiful- don’t let anyone else in this place get you down because you- are one of a kind.” He leaned in really close, too close and poked you square between your collarbone, knowing if he got further he would’ve poked between your tits and he smiled. “I actually like ladies like you, I’ve found they can handle more...” His gazeonly drifted lower, bit lip caught between his upper cainies as he unabashedly attempted to peer down your dress.

"...Thrilling Endeavours~"

Needless to say you were uncomfortable.

Suddenly you felt ten sizes too large and sat back with an obvious look of disgust on your face. Something everyone else around you seemed to notice. And so the whispers started.

“I… want a salad thank you.” You’d say again, grimacing as his smile dropped and he rolled his eyes. “Is everything-“

“Yeah yeah everything is fine- fuckin phenomenal no issues here… can’t go one night without fuckin' things up-“ Vox grumbled, hands shoving a card and some money back into its case before childishly flipping the menu up and going silent.

Eyes seemed to burn into you and you felt shame and embarrassment crawl up your neck. You turned your own to your wine and sipped it slowly before placing it down and crossing your arms over your lap, accentuating their weight.

Vox looked over the menu with a small glare before speaking too loud for comfort.

“They’ve got three different salads and all of them only have one ingredient differences, are you su-“

“Positive.” And he would huff, setting the menu down harshly before flagging a waiter over. One who had been snickering at a table in front of you only a few minutes earlier.

You let your head down as he spoke to Vox, who seemed to notice your discomfort and was at least sorry he pulled a stunt like he did. His hand was back in the center of the table as if he was inviting you to grab it.

In an effort you stepped up and lightly touched it, which willed him to grab it so hard it felt like it would break. “Ah-“

“Don’t- if I give you the chance to, will you order something… better?”

“I said I want a salad Vox." You answered with a glare. His eyes seemed to darken at this, flitting back to the waiter as his jaw set in annoyance.

"That'll be two steaks for the table, and ugh-" he snapped his fingers - " Do me a favour and dont take all night, I'm trying to treat this little lady to something nice, and shes just being difficult." The waiters smirk was pointed as he wrote down the order. "That'll be two of our house special steaks, and bottle of vintage for you and your sist-" Vox's shadow loomed over the table as he prepared to chew the young man out, his ears growing red from agictation.

"Friend!" Was what you cut in with, a hand resting soothingly on the back of Vox's, thumb interlocked with his, causing his pupils to blow wide as the waiter straightened his posture. "He's taking me out as a courtesy dinner on behalf of our friend Tom Leery." You said succinctly, watching the stress melt off smoothly from Vox's shoulders.

The waiter looked between the two of you, nodding understandably, as he was clearly grateful you deescalated the situation he started.

"Mhm, my mistake ma'mm, and... sir. We'll have your food out shortly." *To be continued.*

[princessbrunette]

protective stepbro!jj when a guy hurts/makes reader cry 🥵

ALL SQUARE ♡

CW: mentions of JJ’s dad abusing him briefly at start, violence, step-cest, angry JJ !!

JJ was pretty shitty with his feelings. God, he’d die before having an ‘open conversation’ with someone about ‘boundaries’ or writing in a diary like that mandatory counsellor who visit him after his dad had left some gnarly knuckle stains on his face for the trillionth time had suggested. No, it wasn’t his style. You keep moving, keep talking, keep runnin’ and nothing can catch up with you. Nothing can hurt you.

You were so different.

It was almost painful, how sensitive you were. Your lip quivered at those TV commercials where they’d show the abused puppies in cages waiting for adoption, JJ often having to beat you to your phone before you donated a handful of the money you didn’t have. Your eyes would drop to your lap in humiliation when his asshole father would make some kind of offhand impertinent comment about the bunnies on your pyjamas or the fact your fresh nail polish on your toes was making the living room stink of chemicals. No longer abusive, but still an insensitive asshole. JJ didn’t know how your mother subsisted, but then again she wasn’t like you— soft and saccharine, she was tough. She kept his father in his place, he needed that.

Your common sensitivity was why his heart only leapt halfway out the confines of his ribcage when he found you. He’d come home around 4ish, having stayed over at John B’s, something he used to be able to do for weeks on end but now couldn’t bare to leave you lonely in the house for longer than 2 days. He remembers now, your work uniform, when he sees the back of you first— white polo top hugging you, skirt bunching a little from your feet being curled beneath you on the futon, gold clasped necklace kissing the peach fuzz at the back of your neck. He smiles before he notices the way your shoulders are slumped dejectedly and you sniffle wetly into your knuckles.

He doesn’t greet you in his usual silly way, this time traipsing around the futon in the living room with his brow pinched until he was met front on with the confirmation that you were crying.

“What happened?” He sighs. Undoubtably, you’d watched a Tiktok of ‘Cats who didn’t get picked at the adoption centre today’ or accidentally smashed one of your pink plates you insisted you ate off.

“I hate this job, J.” You bleat, lips turned down and gloopy eyes flickering to him a few times. He sits at your side, hand hovering over you for a moment before deciding on your shoulder what he hoped was comfortingly. Okay, that answer was pretty valid. You’d recently picked up a job at the golf course, Kook central. He hated the idea of you shuffling skittishly around after those belligerent assholes, having them peak up the pleats of your skirt when you bend to fetch a ball or to snap their fingers at you when you don’t retrieve their champagne fast enough. But, you’d needed a job and he respected you for trying. He fought with everything to hold in the “I told you that place was bad news.” until he couldn’t, and said it anyway.

“I know.” You mewl pathetically, wiping your glossy nostrils on the back of your hand leaving a snail trail of snot down it.

“Talk to me, c’mon.” He shuffles a little closer, eager to hear the details, to find out who / what had made his sweet little step-sister so downcast. His brain flashes to what he might think would be the usual culprits. From what he’d seen however, Topper was oddly respectful to the help, Rafe didn’t care enough to bully them and Kelce just did whatever Rafe did, so maybe not.

“Y’know that property salesman guy, the — the one who’s got his picture plastered on all those benches outside the town square. I kept gettin’ in his way and,” You hiccup harshly, taking a moment to swallow it down as you collect yourself. JJ stares at your profile attentively, eyes wide and jogging his knee. He wish you’d hurry up and get to the point. “He kept yelling at me. Callin’ me names, like stupid and useless.” Your eyes finally meet JJ’s, flickering around for a moment hesitantly. He has a fresh cut on his jaw and through his eyebrow, his blonde hair sticking out his backwards cap curls at his temples, his eyes are a little tired and bloodshot but still wide and beautiful. Oh, you hated to see him mad. You push your sleeve higher up your arm, and look equally shocked to see the fresh bruise had darkened, the shape of yucky thick fingers curled around it. “He yanked me really hard n’I lost my footing and fell.” Your face crumples again, hot tears squeezing out your eyes.

JJ goes very still, his knee frozen and he barely breathes. Not only had someone been mean to you, but they’d laid their hands on you.

“I’m gonna fuckin’ kill him.” He seethes and you’re already shaking your head desperately before he’s even finished his sentence. “Yes, yes I am— not only, okay — not only is he laying his hands on a woman, alright — he’s laying his hands on you. That behaviour needs to be straightened out, and if no one’s gonna do it well —” He was up, pacing infront of you, looking around for something, some inspiration on what he could do to this degenerate Kook.

“Jayj!” You snivel, and it sounded so sad and small that it actually stops him in his tracks. He didn’t wanna scare you, no. Not you of all people, not when you’d been treated like this. He had a temper, it was true— his father’s son, but he was trying to be there for you. Be a good big step-brother. He sighs, rubbing his hands down his face a good few times trying to wipe off the anger, for now atleast. You could see the self restraint in him, his biceps were tense and his hands were flushed with colour and veins from the strain of it all. Made your tummy go all weird.

“Alright.” He relents and sits down right next to you again, taking off his cap and tossing it aside carelessly to run his fingers through the tangled locks, snagging half way through.

“I need this job.” You speak after a moment, and he turns his head to look at you. You looked so pretty, even when you’d been crying, snot and all. He rubs his lips together, eyes casted away once more as he nods.

“I know.” He wrings his wrists, the signs of restlessness still residing in him. “Sorry I freaked... C’mere.” He turns back, windscreen wiping the inky droplets of watered down mascara from beneath your eyes, hot hands cupping your cheekbones. “People are assholes, babe.” He lets the nickname slip out and your face gets a bit warmer. “You’re so much better than them, y’hear me? You’ll be alright.” He leans in and presses a kiss to the centre of your forehead. It feels appropriate, but he’s not sure what that means anymore — the line between the two of you having been crossed in such demented ways before. God, you look up at him so sweet when he pulls away, big watery eyes that would put a baby cow to shame. “You’re tough.” He lies, because you’re not tough, you’re so far from it— but your cheeks push up anyway, easily subdued by his care and affection.

“Yeah?”

“The toughest girl around. Even I’m scared of ‘ya.” He jokes and you giggle. Mission accomplished, for now anyway. The first part of the mission. He’d sweet talked you enough to have you curled up on the couch, exhausted from your long and stressful day, some reality show he couldn’t care less about buzzing on the TV. Yeah, that’ll do— some form of promise to go and grab some icecream to bring you leaves his mouth when he jogs out the door pocketing his keys and you believe him. He’s sure he can pick some up on the way home anyway.

But he passes the convenience store and heads all the way to the golf course. One of JJ’s many rules to mischief and misconduct was that if you walked with enough purpose, no one will question whether or not you belong somewhere. Which is how he strides straight in, past all the Kooks in their crisp shirts and board shorts, a jolly atmosphere in the air as the sun starts to set. Oh happy day, JJ thinks, how nice to be this ignorant to the world around you.

He all but skids to a stop when he spots him, the man he was looking for. Mr Mattegar, top salesman to Kildares richest idiots. Overpriced houses and redecoration jobs that remove any historical significance from a property? You best believe it’s Mattegars handiwork. He lounges at the bar, reddy-orangey cocktail in hand as he laughs obnoxiously loud amongst friends. JJ hangs back a little, nose twitching in anger as he disguises himself clumsily behind a large decorative plant. He’s lucky Kooks are so self absorbed, because no one spares him a glance.

Finally, the successful salesman departs from his table, heading towards the car park. Perfect, JJ notes, makes my job a hell of a lot more easy. The car park is secluded, away from the resort, and as JJ keeps his eyes trained on the Kooks back, he plucks a golf club from a passing trolley, clutching it in his tightly wound fist. He was going to find out which obnoxious Rangerover belonged to the culprit and partake in some much deserved vandalism, but this was better. His chest feels hot with vexation.

Another one of JJ’s many mischief guidelines fell along the lines of ‘Don’t think, just do.’ He stayed true to his word when he yanked up the paisley bandana tied around his neck to cover everything but his eyes and yelled out “Hey asshole!” Once the two of them were alone.

He didn’t think when he swung with the club, the metal head cracking against the aged man’s cheekbone. He yelps, falling backwards, and JJ is still yet to think when he swings again. “S’what you get! Laying your hands on little girls just tryna do their jobs!” He should have started thinking. The more he uses his voice, spitting out the expletives as he gives him a good few kicks to the rib, the more identifiable he’d be. This was a hit and run so uh, run.

He takes off, yanking his bandana off to pant wetly by the docks, tossing the golf club and watching it sink. He wasn’t sure why he’d referred to you as a ‘little girl’. It made him feel icky, weird, perverted. He leans over the side of the wall, watching the metal club disappear into the inky water as he catches his breath. Murmuring out a ‘God damn’ before continuing on home briskly, not even forgetting to pick up your favourite Ben & Jerry’s on the way home. What was that flavour you liked again? Phish Food?

You’re conked out when he gets home, lips parted and curled infront of the TV with a blanket draped over your legs. He exhales through his nose, placing the tub of frozen dessert aside on the table along with his keys as he slowly approaches, a small but anxious smile on his face. Maybe he shouldn’t have done that, but for you there wasn’t much he wouldn’t do. He pulls the blanket over you a little higher, dropping a kiss to your temple. He’ll share the tub of icecream with you when you wake up.

[chairofchaos]

30, 52, or 58

Nyxlin because my gods that first part has me full sold on them

Please!

The Wine Cellar

Pairing: Nyx Archeron x Tamlin Summary: In which Nyxlin get stuck in a wine cellar. Rating: Teen Word Count: 2.4k Warnings: There's drinking. Because wine cellar. Nothing else that I can think of! A/N: Shoutout to @thrumbolt who enthusiastically informed me the proper ship name is NYXLIN. Also, this was supposed to be a drabble, but it turned into 2.4k so fast. It is connected to the Nyxlin drabble "Banned from Bed" if you're interested! Linked in my masterlist under ACOTAR>Drabbles! <3 Prompt 58: being locked in a small space

As soon as Tamlin stepped to the second step, the heavy door slammed behind him. “No, no, no, no.”

“Lord Tamlin?”

The voice came from total darkness. Tamlin shifted his eyes quickly into the eyes of an owl so that he could see down the stairs more clearly.

Nyx. He was locked in a wine cellar with Nyx Archeron. To Nyx’s credit, he looked absolutely petrified to be facing his mother’s ex-lover in Thesan’s wine cellar. 

"Nyx?"

“Um. Yes. Hello,” the male said. He was almost 300 years old, wasn’t he? Not the smooth salesman his father had been at that age, then.

“You wouldn’t happen to have a key, or a way out, would you?” Tamlin asked cooly. Nyx fidgeted, his hands fidgeting at his sides as he looked in Tamlin’s general direction.

“No. You don’t, either?”

Tamlin shook his head until he saw Nyx pause quizzically, awaiting an answer. Right. Total darkness. He may be the Darling of the Night Court, but Nyx couldn’t see anything here. “No, I don’t.”

Nyx spun on his heel and began to pace. The room wasn’t very large. It was Thesan’s private wine cellar, and Elain Archeron had sent him (by request of Thesan) to retrieve a bottle of wine he wanted for dinner. 

“Could you break us out?” Nyx asked. He paused his pacing, looking rather peevish as he looked up. 

“I wish,” Tamlin admitted, sitting on the stairs. “Thesan has intense spellwork on this cellar.”

Nyx nodded shakily. “I know. Aunt Elain had to talk me through how to get into them. And they’re so strong, I couldn’t even make a faelight.”

He returned to his pacing, his hands fidgeting away at his sides. It was on his sixty fourth trip across the room that Tamlin smelled blood. Not a lot, but in a small room like this, it only took a drop. Nyx was facing the far wall, and wouldn’t turn around for another second or two.

“Are you alright?” Tamlin asked. He immediately regretted it. What did he care for the life of the child of his ex-lover and the male she had left him for? But he had asked, anyway. 

Nyx froze mid-spin. “I- What?”

Tamlin sniffed. Definitely blood. “You’re bleeding.”

Nyx started, so Tamlin added, “I can smell it.”

That didn’t seem to put the lord at any ease. “Okay.”

“Are you alright?”

“Yes,” Nyx wavered as he resumed his pacing, his eyes darting between Tamlin’s form and the floor. He still couldn’t see Tamlin, because he never came close to making eye contact. “I just bit my lip.”

“Are you certain?”

Nyx stopped entirely and frowned, a hint of anger flashing in his eyes. He has Feyre’s eyes, Tamlin realized. No wonder he thought they were pretty.

“I’m fine,” Nyx snapped. And there is Rhysand.

“Alright,” Tamlin said.

But Nyx wasn’t done, and he started pacing again, hands waving emphatically. “I just don’t like being trapped. And this room is only ten feet by eight feet, and the shelves take up all but the three foot walkway between them, so I am feeling very, very trapped. I do not like this. I couldn’t even fit my wings properly if I–”

Nyx froze, completely froze this time, as he turned back to face Tamlin. “I’m sorry.”

Well. That was unexpected, coming from an Archeron. “Sorry for what?”

“Rambling. To you.”

Tamlin shrugged, leaning back on the staircase to prop himself up on his elbows. “You wouldn’t be the first to do it. Lucien’s much worse than you are.”

Nyx snorted. “He’s so put together. Uncle Lucien doesn’t ramble.”

Tamlin laughed at that, and Nyx looked so curious that he couldn’t help but add, “Oh yes, he does, if you give him the right amount of liquor. Or if you ask him about Elain when he’s tired. He’ll talk for hours about the curl of her hair, the pretty color of her new dress. Try it sometime.”

Nyx laughed. “I’ll do that.”

“What do you say we crack open one of these expensive bottles of wine to pass the time?” Tamlin offered. 

Nyx shook his head. “I can’t. Lord Thesan would kill me.”

“I outrank you,” Tamlin shrugged, standing up. “Blame it on me like the rest of your family.”

Nyx paled and said nothing. 

Tamlin chuckled, stepping down the stairs to reach for an 800 year old bottle of Autumn merlot. “Don’t worry. It’s nothing new.”

Nyx shuffled back until his back hit the wall. “I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t have to. I can see you.”

If it was at all possible for a fae to turn green without literally turning green, Nyx Archeron was making his best attempt. “What?”

“I can see you.”

“Mothers’ tits,” Nyx swore, crossing his arms. “You shifted your eyes.”

“Yes,” Tamlin said, grinning. “And it’s been very informative.”

Nyx frowned, then seemed to think better of it, and schooled his face to something more neutral. “How so?”

Tamlin shrugged out of habit, scoring the wax seal on the wine bottle with a taloned finger. “It isn’t every day you learn an heir to the Night Court is afraid of the dark.”

“I’m not afraid of the dark!” Nyx threw his hands up in the air. Tamlin began to sink a falcon’s talon into the cork to try to pull it off. “I said I’m afraid of small spaces!”

Tamlin froze at the same time as Nyx, the wine bottle in his hands forgotten for the confession the male had made.

Nyx swore again. “Please, don’t mention it. Ever.”

“No,” Tamlin shook his head. “I won’t. But, are you alright?” He took a swig of the wine straight from the bottle. 

“No!” Nyx shouted. He tugged at his black curls (oh, why was that attractive?) before waving his hands in the air as if gesturing at the room. “I am not.”

“Is there…” Tamlin sighed, setting the wine back on the shelf. “Can I help?”

Nyx rolled his eyes, crossing his arms again. He had as much attitude as his parents, the brat. “No.”

“I will, if I can.” 

“I don’t want your help.”

“So I could help, you just don’t want it?” Tamlin teased. It was like he had forgotten, in the absurdity of the position they were in, just who this male was.

Nyx bit his bottom lip and scuffed his toe against the ground. It didn’t seem to matter if he knew Tamlin could see him. That, or in his anxiety, he had forgotten he could be seen at all. “No.”

“Great. Now that we’ve established you don’t want my help, what can I do?”

Nyx sighed. “Hug me.”

“Excuse me?”

“You could hug me. It’s easier to pretend I’m somewhere else if I have physical contact.”

It was Tamlin’s turn to freeze. Well, this was ending up one of the weirder days in Tamlin’s life. “Alright,” he shrugged as nonchalantly as possible. He had said he would help. Of course, that meant he actually had to do it. He wouldn’t be made a liar by Feyre’s son, of all fae.

Nyx rubbed his arm, shifting his weight awkwardly. Tamlin strode to him, then murmured, “Any particular… request?”

Nyx shook his head. Standing close to him, Tamlin could see the blood crusting on his lower lip and the panicked glaze in his eyes. “Alright.”

When his arm went around the male’s back, Tamlin was surprised to find how easily Nyx folded into his arms. One of his hands hovered for a second above Tamlin’s heart before fisting into the fabric of his shirt. Nyx smelled like ink and a piney soap he couldn’t quite place. It was distracting enough that it took Tamlin a few seconds to realize how tightly Nyx was gripping his shirt. In the same moment, he realized he didn’t care if the fabric was wrinkled. 

Mother save me, Tamlin thought as Nyx buried his face in his shoulder.

“Thank you,” Nyx whispered. Lost for words, Tamlin simply stroked the male’s back and nodded.

Nyx’s breaths slowed, and after a few moments, his grip on Tamlin’s shirt loosened. He was muscular, more so than his thin frame would suggest. Still, his shoulders were much more tense than the rest of his body, as though he carried the weight of the world in the muscles which lay there. 

“You’re so tense,” Tamlin murmured. Nyx huffed, picking his head up and leaning back. “What?”

Cauldron boil and fry me. “Your shoulders. You’re tense.”

“I am stuck in a wine cellar,” Nyx returned, sounding every bit as though he’d rather be discussing anything else.

“This didn���t happen in the last hour,” Tamlin countered, his hand drifting up to squeeze Nyx’s shoulder as if to confirm. Nyx rolled his eyes, shifting his weight to step back, but Tamlin was quicker, and tightened the arm around the male’s waist. “Nyx.”

Nyx stiffened, eyes widening as he looked at Tamlin. His jaw dropped slightly, a huff of air leaving his lips. Tamlin raised an eyebrow. “You’re a beast,” Nyx snarled suddenly with flashing eyes. 

Tamlin would have responded in kind had it not been the snarl of a cornered animal. “Nyx.”

Nyx pinched his bicep. “Let me go.” 

“Fine,” Tamlin returned, raising his hands in mock surrender. He had pinched him. Brat. “As you wish.”

Nyx retreated to the far wall, breathing heavily before resuming his pacing. Tamlin grabbed the bottle of wine, reclaiming his perch on the stairs as Nyx turned angrily on his heel. “You’re going to wear a path in the floor.”

“I don’t care,” Nyx snapped. 

“Why so hostile all of a sudden? You were the one who asked me for help.”

Nyx said nothing, so Tamlin took another swig of wine. Mother help him. Somebody needed to find them, and soon. 

Ten minutes later, Tamlin heard the creaking of the hinges above him. Light which was way too bright filtered into the room, and he blinked as he looked up, shifting his eyes back quickly.

“Nyx?” Lucien said. Then, as though surprised, he added, “Tamlin? What are you doing here?”

“Don’t let the door shut!” Nyx said quickly.

Lucien eyed his nephew and his friend with concern, but took a step back, holding the door open. Nyx bolted up the stairs as quickly as he could, his legs brushing Tamlin’s shoulder as he did so. Pine. The scent of his soap was so strong.

“I’ll grab the wine,” Tamlin said dully, standing to walk down the stairs and into the gloomy cellar. He had drunk half of the bottle of wine he was already holding. What was another?

He grabbed a bottle, and found himself questioning why Elain Archeron would send him to get a bottle of wine. Surely a servant could have been spared for this errand?

Nyx and Lucien spoke in low voices at the top of the stairs, but when Tamlin began climbing the stairs, they stopped quickly, Nyx stepping further out of the doorway to let Tamlin through. 

Lucien was examining his nephew the way he assessed prey, and when his eyes, one russet, one golden, slid to Tamlin’s approaching form, he blinked quickly as if to clear his vision of some obstruction.

Tamlin ignored his oldest friend, pressing the sealed bottle of wine into his hands. “I’m not coming to dinner. Please give Thesan my compliments and let him know I’ve gone to bed.”

“Why?” Nyx’s head shot up at that, looking concerned. Tamlin ground his teeth together, swirling the remaining wine in the bottle he still held. 

“I’m tired.”

Lucien nodded. “We’ll tell him.”

“Do you need anything?” Nyx’s heedless words clearly surprised him as much as Lucien and Tamlin. The tips of his ears flushed as Lucien arched an eyebrow at the young male while Tamlin looked at him one last time. Last, because whatever pine scent was addling his brain could not find him again.

“No,” Tamlin shook his head, not unkindly. 

“Alright. Thank you for your help.” Nyx turned and walked away, his steps quick. 

Lucien’s hand shot out to still Tamlin before he could turn in the other direction. 

“What is he thanking you for?”

Tamlin felt his cheeks heat. Fuck. “Nothing. Don’t worry about it, Lucien.”

Lucien tilted his head. “He’s my nephew.”

“I know.”

“Rhysand’s son.”

“I know.”

“Did you,” Lucien waved a hand in the air, grimacing. “Did something happen with him?”

Tamlin ground out, “No.” 

Lucien raised an accusatory eyebrow.

“I didn’t do anything,” Tamlin growled.

Lucien sighed. “If you insist.”

Tamlin bit his tongue, barely refraining from asking why Lucien might have thought that they would have been together in the first place.

“Goodnight, Tamlin.”

Tamlin nodded, finally stepping away from the redhead who saw far too much. “Goodnight, Lucien.”

Mother help anyone who tried to get something past Lucien and his mate. Elain could see far more than she let on. It was no doubt she– Elain, Tamlin realized suddenly. Hadn’t Nyx said Elain had sent him there as well? Tamlin swore under his breath, turning to call down the hall. 

“Lucien!”

Lucien turned to face him. 

“Tell your wife I need to talk to her tomorrow, please.”

Lucien sighed. “I’ll ask her.”

“No,” Tamlin shook his head. “Tell her. It’s essential.”

“I will ask her,” Lucien repeated firmly. “She isn’t yours to order any more than she is mine.”

Tamlin swallowed at the hard set of Lucien’s face. His role as the heir of Day had changed things between them, but never before had Lucien leveled such a look in his direction. “Very well.”

Lucien smiled faintly in acknowledgement, then raised a hand in a parting before resuming his walk towards the dining room. 

Lucien be damned. Tamlin swore he could still smell the scent of pine, his chest tightening with something akin to longing as he thought of the hand which had fisted in his shirt, the blood on Nyx’s lip. Fuck. It lingered, no matter where he tried to drive his thoughts. Tamlin swore as he opened the door to his rooms, then shut it behind him once again.

They had only just met, but somehow, Tamlin knew: Nyx Archeron would be the death of him.

Taglist: @ninthcircleofprythian @dusk-muse @c-starstuff-man0 @dusk-muse

[julesthequirky]

The Choice: Chapter One

Summary: You find three of your favourite characters in your home. It shouldn't be possible, but there they are. In the flesh. How the hell did they get there? And surely there's a way to get them back? But as you get close to each one, the thought of sending them back proves difficult to comprehend.

Characters: You, Antiques salesman, mother, cute black cat.

Chapter Warnings: Pain in the ass mother, language.

W/C: 1,220

A/N: Soley thought of this idea just for that Spiderman meme.

The bell to the antiques store tinkled as you opened the door. As you stepped in, the proprietor of the store moved away from behind the counter. The place was cluttered, and everything in sight was for sale.

“Hi there, interested in purchasing something today?”

He was a kindly-looking older gent, who reminded you of your pops, and you couldn’t help but smile warmly at him.

“Potentially. Just browsing, for now.”

“Looking for anything in particular?” He enquired as you started to browse.

You shrugged. “Not really.”

He smiled then. “Ah. You won’t know what you’re looking for until it finds you.” He said with a twinkle in his eye.

You chuckled and nodded. Yeah, you could agree with that.

It didn’t take long for you to find something. Your eye had landed on a trifold oval picture frame. And for the price tag, you were tempted. Very tempted.

“Ah a lovely set. Baroque features in the detailing. Could do with a possible restoration, but a proper clean would also suffice.”

You fingered the tag again, it was a hundred dollars.

“Tell ya what. I’ll knock off ten bucks. How does that sound?”

You looked at him then.

“You don’t think I don’t know the look of someone finding an item they can’t walk away from? Darlin’ you got that look. You got it bad.”

It was just a picture frame. A dumb little picture frame, but why did it give you so much joy to look at? You weren’t much of a haggler and it would seem rude to haggle the price after he had already generously knocked off ten percent.

“Alright, you got yourself a deal.”

He shook your hand. “Excellent.”

He picked up the item and very carefully began meandering his way back to the counter with you following him. He set the item down gently and rung up the purchase.

“Such a pretty little find. And it was a shame that it had been hiding in a box, before coming here.”

You gave him a quizzical look and he held up a hand before disappearing into the back for a few moments and coming back with a small wooden box. He placed it on the counter in front of you. Your hands reached out towards it. The wooden box looked plain compared to the delicate and intricate detailing on the frame. It was finished with a dark varnish and what was with the strange script etched into the grain? Was it Elvish, or Sanskrit, or even Latin? You had no idea. A simple clasp locked the box. Easy to use. Either way, now you had a keepsake box also.

“It’s my understanding that the original owner had passed away and his living relatives didn’t want it and, well here it is.”

“Well, it’s their loss.”

“Of course, of course. If they hadn’t, then you never would have found it.”

He took your cash and then handed you the receipt. He bid you a good rest of your day as you lifted the box and the picture frame and made your way out of the store.

*

You placed the final photo in the frame. Slid the locks, and placed the frame on your sideboard, angling it so you could appreciate it all that little bit more. You sighed in contentment as three of your favourite fictional men smiled seemingly at you from beside your TV.

The door knocked and by the light raps you knew who it was. This time, you sighed heavily and muttered “God, give me strength” before going to open the door. You’d only opened it a crack before she started to barge her way in.

“Y/N, honestly, what are you wearing? Pyjama’s during daytime? I don’t know. Go put on some proper clothes.”

You looked down. Now you were annoyed. It was loungewear for God’s sake. Perfectly acceptable.

“Mother, what I’m wearing should be of no concern to you and its just gone five, and it’s a Saturday.”

She sniffed and made her way into your lounge. She tutted at the clutter.

“Don’t you ever tidy up?”

You rolled your eyes and sat down. “What did you come here for? To pick faults or was there an actual reason?”

“Your father—”

“Not my father.” You stated.

Your mother had married her partner not long after your father’s passing and now, she acted as though he had been in your life since birth.

She continued, like you hadn’t interrupted her.

“—and I have been talking. You know that nice young man that started last year, Cole—"

“Wait, you’re not seriously trying to set me up?”

Your mother looked a little put out.

“Well, it can’t hurt to get back out there. Get back on the horse or so to speak.”

You sat there shocked. Then it turned to anger.

“Are you ashamed of me? Are you ashamed that your one and only daughter is a divorcee!”

“Ashamed, no. Disappointed, yes.”

It was like a punch to the gut and the hurt stabbed at your heart. You’d suspected your mother had opinions on your divorce but to voice her disappointment a year and a half after finalization felt like a kick in the teeth. It left you speechless.

“Is that new? I have to say I don’t think it goes with the room. Who are those men? Are they from your shows? Honestly Y/N. I don’t know what to do with you sometimes.”

Your mother had continued to ramble on whilst you were still reeling from her comment. At that moment your all black cat slinked in, jumping up and made her way over to your mother’s lap.

“If you’re not careful, this is your future.” She said nodding to the cat.

You looked at her then.

“I think you should leave, mother.”

She turned her head, facing you. She looked like a goldfish with the way her mouth kept opening and closing. Then her lips pursed together, and she stood, with the cat leaping from her. She made a disgusted sound, discovering the amount of cat hair had malted on her. You handed her a nearby lint brush, and she furiously started scrubbing at the hair on her skirt. She then stood and bid you a good evening and purposefully walked to the door. Your mother didn’t wait, slamming the door on her way out. You scrubbed your hand down your face muttering about her audacity.

*

You plonked yourself on the sofa, grabbed the remote and turned on the TV. The cat had been fed and was currently God knows where, doing its own thing.

Halfway through Family Feud, a loud crash from what sounded like your kitchen alerted you. Your laugh cut short and Steve Harvey poked fun at a contestant's absurd answer, laughing on the screen. You jumped up, abandoning the snacks and ran to see the destruction, cussing your cat out along the way.

You stormed into the room ready to reem your pesky feline, grabbing a broom, threatening the extinction of treats for the rest of his life. But what you saw had you stopping in your tracks. Words died on your tongue. And what you saw, there was no rhyme or reason to it. In fact, it should have been physically impossible.

Dean Winchester stood in your kitchen, holding a case of pie.

[monstrousproductions]

Impromptu book club! What have you all been reading lately? Anything wonderful? Anything terrible? If you've been swapping presents this week, were any of them books? I got a lovely edition of Pride and Prejudice and the complete Sherlock Holmes short stories, as well as a copy of The Standard Life of a Temporary Pantyhose Salesman by Aldo Busi - a book I know nothing about but whose title and author name have already delighted me.

Currently Reading:

The Philosophy of Love by Rebecca Ryan, a surprisingly heavy rom com that manges pretty well as it balances a profoundly silly premise with some really strong character stuff as the female lead realises her ex was abusively controlling. I'm also relistening to Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell by Susanna Clarke, performed by Simon Prebble, for the millionth time. It's still good, who knew!

Recently Finished:

The Sunless Sea by Erin Morgenstern - Badly needed editing, from a story level (there was no plot! Kind of a big deal for a book about storytelling!) right down to a basic sentence level (the line, "A dim light shone above, not bright" stands out as an example. You already said it was a dim light, Erin. I know it isn't bright. I'm beginning to worry you aren't, either.)

Gods of Jade and Show by Silvia Moreno-Garcia - I had so much more fun with this than I expected! The writing wasn't particularly strong, but it was a lot of fun and I liked the blending of 1920s Mexican culture with Mayan mythology. Could have done with a bit more pizazz for the 1920s stuff but overall, I had a blast.

Flatland by Edwin Abbot (audiobook performed by Kevin Eldon) - For a book about geometry, again, I had way more fun with this than I might have thought. I enjoyed the satire of Victorian society, but audiobook maybe isn't the best medium for a book that apparently includes quite a lot of diagrams.

Meet Me in the Margins by Melissa Ferguson (audiobook performed by Talon David) - Absolutely god-awful. No idea why I finished this. It fell into that pitfall that so many hetero romances do, of trying to have a protagonist who is simultaneously "sooo relatable" but is still a wish fulfillment. Cut to the protagonist calling herself "a whale" because she's... a US size 6 (UK 10) 🙄

Tread of Angels by Rebecca Roanhorse (audiobook performed by Dion Graham) - A tidy wee novella that makes me want to read more by this author. Dion Graham's voice is simply too delicious for words. I liked the world created here - essentially a demonic sort of wild west - and that it didn't outstay its welcome.

Binned Off:

The Way of Kings by Brandon Sanderson (audiobook performed by Kate Reading and Michael Kramer) - I know he has a million fans, but I couldn't be doing with that much guff about the magic system in the face of so little characterisation. Also, maybe he unpacks the whole "this group of people are naturally suited to slavery" thing later in the book/series, but I wasn't in the mood to give him time to try.

What about you? Anything you want to shout about - for better or worse? Tell me everything 📚✨