#monthly short piece

[number1villainstan]

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March 2024 Monthly Short Piece! Technically published April 1, half an hour after midnight, but :') It's another RGU piece, this time from Saionji's POV, set post-canon as he moves in with Wakaba for financial reasons and they try to settle in to routines that won't end up with Saionji getting a sword pulled from his chest.

Summary:

The thing is, Kyouichi has finally and permanently uprooted himself from Ohtori’s poisonous ground, but even as he feels himself growing into something new he’s desperate for familiar soil. The thing is, Wakaba needs a roommate to help pay rent and ease the loneliness, someone who will believe her when she lets something slip about the insanity of her previous school. The thing is, on paper, this new arrangement is perfect for them both. The thing is, in practice it might not be so perfect.

Relationship Tags: Saionji Kyouichi/Shinohara Wakaba, Saionji Kyouichi & Shinohara Wakaba

Character Tags: Saionji Kyouichi, Shinohara Wakaba, Mentioned Kurono Hari, Mentioned Setsuno Touya

Additional Tags: Moving In, Financial Issues, Post-Canon, Developing Relationship, Pre-Relationship, that one metaphor from Fahrenheit 451 about how flowers can't grown on other flowers, that flowers and fireworks both need good soil and a solid foundation to grow, although i guess i didn't develop that metaphor as well as i'd have liked

Word Count: 2,709, how the fuck, i wrote most of this *today*-- (well technically yesterday, but still--)

[yorufi]

prince of mondstadt 🍃

[lemonynuggets]

Not asking here, just got an album i found it and thought of u. U may like it

White ghost - Adolf niegsch

HI ANON I JUST LISTENED TO IT AND ITS? SO GOOD??

oh the vibes are great and the songs are beautiful and some of them remind me so much of certain characters….

thank you so much for the rec I love it a lot!!! Very good album <3

[tojipie]

content: suguru x fem reader, smut, filming sex

having the world’s most insatiable perv as a boyfriend meant satisfying his needs in the craziest ways

˚ ��� ──────────────────

“Oh my god that’s perfect,” Suguru whines, admiring your glistening body through his phone’s camera lense. The cold breeze of the living room fan contrasts with the glossy layer of oil he’d rubbed all over you earlier, goosebumps erupting up your thighs and back.

Your monthly photo shoots with your boyfriend seemed to be the least perverted thing Suguru had convinced you to do over the course of your relationship. Every bikini, every set of panties, and every tiny little skirt you brought home deserved got one— his sick little way of christening your wardrobe.

A simple black bikini had set him off this time, something simple you’d bought at the mall last week. You had tried so hard not to roll your eyes after he’d waltzed into your shared bedroom with the dangling from his fist, tempting you with the biggest puppy dog eyes he could muster.

“Please?” He whined, reaching for your hands to pull you up and out of bed. “For me?”

“..Fine,” you say sternly, knowing there was absolutely zero way he’d let you buy something skimpy without taking a couple pictures for his spank bank. You swear you spy him jumping up and down in your peripheral as you strip out of your pajamas.

And that’s —for better or for worse— how you’d ended up on the living room carpet with your boyfriend standing over you, covered in a thin sheen of body oil he’d tenderly massaged into your skin and staring right into the twin cameras on back of his cellphone.

“Fuck— stay like that,” Suguru marvels, adjusting his obvious hard-on through the fabric of his lounge pants.

“What? Like this?” You giggle, pulling at the middle of your bikini top to show more cleavage. The breathy noise it earns you is nothing short of adorable. Suguru shakes like a leaf as he snaps a few more photos, holding onto his sanity by a thread while all the blood in his body drains right into his dick.

You shade your eyes from the camera flash, blowing him a kiss from where you kneel on the carpet. Suguru kneels behind you, a wave of warmth radiating off of him as he reaches to move your hair across one shoulder.

A calloused palm on your back coaxes you face down onto the carpet, back arched with your thong-clad ass in the air.

“Shit…” he marvels. The tiny piece of fabric leaves so little to the imagination, settling in the rift between your lips perfectly.

You wiggle your ass back and forth in invitation, giggling as his thumb pulls the sticky thong to the side and rubs over your heat.

“Take a video, no?” you tease, feeling a thick finger slide into you as the man behind you groans in earnest. Suguru slips his thumb out of you slowly, bringing his hand to your mouth to have you suck his finger for the camera.

“I’m never deleting this— never— fuck,” Suguru groans, dragging the pad of his thumb across your tongue. You hear him save the video before whipping his phone onto the couch, using his free hand to pull his cock out and slowly push into you from behind.

[bumblesimagines]

Gold and Green

Request: Yes or No

Summary: To further secure the Lannisters to the Green's side, Otto Hightower arranges a marriage between his grandson, Aemond Targaryen, and the Lannister twins younger sister.

Pronouns: She/Her/Hers

CW/TW: Typical GoT/HOTD warnings, arranged marriage trope, mentions of Targcest/incest, mentions of Luke's death, kinda short i wasn't sure what to do with this guy, fluff?

Took my time getting to this mf

~~~

Aemond hardly knew what to make of marriage life. 

He knew what one was expected to do as a couple: attend formal events, ensure both houses prevailed, and have many, many children to continue the bloodline. But, as he came to learn, he had little idea what to do outside of expectations.

No amount of histories or studying or even reading childish romantic tales told him how to be a husband, and he hardly had anyone to model what a proper and good lord-husband was supposed to look like. His father had hardly cared for his mother and his brother barely paid Helaena any attention outside of awkward, forced interactions. 

Aemond found it infuriating, simply put. He mastered everything he put his mind to. He'd claimed the biggest dragon in the world as a mere boy; lost an eye and replaced it with a sapphire; excelled in swordsmanship and combat; perfected the art of speaking, writing, and understanding High Valryian; studied the histories and listened to the septas dutifully to the point he could recall any tale down to the smallest of details. The perfect heir, if he had to be honest, but hardly anything that'd help him be a good husband. He refused to be like Aegon, refused to allow himself to steep down to his brother's level of indifference toward his sister-wife. 

His dear mother had been little help, merely telling him to 'be a kind and dutiful husband' when he questioned her, but he understood why she herself would have little experience knowing what a husband should look like. His grandsire simply told him to hurry and consummate the marriage once his wife's monthly blood had finished, to court her with gifts and such if he so wished. 

So, he gave his grandsire's advice a try and searched for a necklace befitting for a lioness of the west. 

"Wife," Aemond instinctively called into their shared bedchambers as he stepped inside, his single eye searching the room as the door slid shut behind him until he noticed her sitting on one of the couches. She looked beautiful, clad in the gold and red colors of House Lannister. He'd much prefer her in green but he hardly found it appropriate to push the subject when they barely spoke. Her handmaidens curtsied upon seeing him before resuming their tasks.

"Husband." (Y/N) responded in greeting, her tone somewhat monotone and attention largely focused on her embroidery. He understood why she and Helaena got along so easily, perhaps he should've inquired his sister instead. "How was your day, My Lord?"

"Busy, as always. War is on the horizon, I fear." He tried not to think about Lucerys, or the memory of watching bits and pieces of Arrax descend into the ocean. He'd meant to frighten him, humiliate him as he and his brother had done to him years prior, but he'd forgotten Vhagar wasn't a mere mindless creature nor a weapon he could control. She followed his orders because she wanted to, not because she had to. 

"Wasn't it always?" She asked, though it wasn't a question meant to be answered. A masked statement to avoid offending him. He knew what the courtiers whispered behind his back since his return from Storm's End. Kinslayer. A title spat and whispered with disdain because who would be cruel enough to kill their own blood?

(Y/N) exhaled through her nose and peered over her shoulder when a handmaiden poured steaming water into the tub. She stood up, handing her embroidery off to one dutiful handmaiden and smoothing out her dress with her hands. She stepped around the couch and strode toward her desk, her fingers raising to remove her earrings and set them aside. Her eyes flickered to his reflection in the mirror as he strode toward her, gently setting the silver box on the desk. 

"For you, My Lady." He murmured and took a step back, clasping his hands behind his back and watching her eye the box. (Y/N) opened it and hummed, trailing her finger over the necklace within. Gold, to resemble House Lannister, with a glimmering emerald in the center to resemble House Hightower. The union of their two houses, of their blood. "I hope it is to your liking." 

"It is quite beautiful, Husband. Thank you." She told him, unclipping the necklace around her neck and setting it down. His wife studied the gift, her eyes lingering on it for a moment longer before she turned toward her handmaidens and dismissed them with a wave of her hand. They finished their task swiftly and curtsied deeply before leaving the room. Aemond couldn't help but tilt his head. His wife still needed to prepare for the night. 

"Wife-"

"Help me undress, Husband." (Y/N) told him, striding toward the tub and casting a glance over her shoulder at him. Aemond followed silently and reached forward, carefully undoing the laces of her dress and helping her slide it off her body. His eye jumped away, out of respect and instinct but he forced himself to look back. She was his wife, after all. 

Offering her his hand, he held hers as she stepped into the tub and lowered down into the warm water, a hum of contentment escaping her. Aemond took a seat on the stool by the tug, his long fingers curling around a soapy rag and beginning to gingerly rub it along her shoulders.

Her lips curled upward, her eyes following his movements before they trailed up his arm and to his face. He paused when her hand raised from the edge of the tub, stiffening when she tugged the eyepatch away to reveal the sapphire in place of his missing eye. 

"You needn't wear this around me, Husband." She told him, placing the eyepatch in the palm of his free hand. "I am not a silly little girl like some of the ladies here. I do not frighten easily." 

His own lips curled at that, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. He expected such an attitude from a Lannister, although her older brother, Tyland, hardly gave the same impression as her. He shrunk back easily when challenged during meetings and had the attitude of a cub over a lion. "I shall like to introduce you to Vhagar then, Wife." Aemond ran the rag along the underside of her arm, slowly lifting it until he could brush his lips over her knuckles. 

"I'm certain we'll get along." (Y/N) responded, her hand turning over to cup Aemond's chin. He leaned into her touch and savored it, for he hadn't received such a gentle caress since the death of his nephew. His mother had shrunk back from him, whether from fear or disgust of what he'd done. No mother would find the news of her child getting their hands bloody appealing. He had to give her time to adjust. 

Aemond smiled against her skin. "Yes, I believe so as well." He agreed, feeling her palm slide against his jawline and cheek. Her thumb brushed over the scar thoughtfully, not a glimmer of disgust on her face.

She'd make a lovely queen, he noted. They'd make a lovely ruling couple, far better than his older siblings and even his parents. If only he'd allowed Aegon to escape when he had the chance. 

"I believe we ought to consummate the marriage soon, Husband." The light teasing tone in her voice made him grin. 

"Yes, we should. Perhaps... tonight."

[risuola]

ENTRY #7 ♡ F. READER X GOJO SATORU // You touched my hand and suddenly I couldn’t breathe anymore.

contents: arranged marriage!au, emotional confusion at its finest — wc. 509

a/n: are we going to leave the fluffy territory? i don't know, i enjoy writing those little pieces about confused fools in love (??), don't at me ♡

series masterlist

Blabbering.

A hazy echo of Jujutsu elders played somewhere in the background — monthly gathering of all high-grade sorcerers — and Satoru’s mind was somewhere else. Seated on a hard chair, a setting akin to a school lecture that usually would have reminded him about his old days, he struggled to keep his composure. The lack of snarky remarks and constant scoffs and sarcasm brought attention of few of his colleagues, but there was nothing in this world that could shift his attention away from you.

You were next to him, seemingly absentminded as you kept your eyes in front of you, studying languidly the characters hiding behind the matted glass. You were observing them, the surroundings and he was observing you, thanking his own cursed fate that the sunglasses resting on the bridge of his nose were just as black as the middle of the night, not allowing anyone to see through them. He thought it was funny, ironic even, that what always was a way to establish his dominance — a glimpse of his blue orbs being enough to remind everyone that he is the strongest — now was just an excuse to steal glances of you with the corner of his eye.

Every time he took a breath in, your scent filled in his lungs. It made him dizzy. His hand rested on top of your thigh, a tip of his finger just barely touching your naked skin, while the rest of his palm met the fabric of your shorts, but it was that sliver of flesh that was driving him insane. He couldn’t help but focus solely on the gentle way you moved. He was your stress-toy and you were his distraction.

Seemingly paying him no mind, you kept playing with his fingers. Your dainty ones brushing up and down his long digits, ghosting over his knuckles and pressing on the pads of his palm — a tickling touch across the sensitive skin of the inner part of his wrist and then, you were following the veins on top of his hand.

He felt lightheaded.

The tips of your nails were scraping against his pale flesh ever so slightly, leaving a faint trace of goosebumps behind and teasing him from time to time. Your touch was soft and tender, sending sparks of intimacy right through Satoru’s core. His heart was racing inside his chest and he wondered if you could feel it every time your fingers brush over the pulse at the base of his hand.

You were taking your time. Slowly, lazily following the lines and curves of him, exploring the valleys and ups. Satoru felt a tingle of a shiver that run down his spine. Every single of your gestures was playful, innocent, sensual.

Tantalizing.

He was on fire.

The heat was burning him inside out. He fought with everything he’s got to not grip your thigh, to not squeeze the plushiness of it, to not just touch you more.

Gojo was on the edge, he couldn’t take it anymore.

But he didn’t want it to end.

taglist: @kinny-away @anan-baban @lotomber @netflix-imagines @kawliflo @nishloves @ghostfacefricker6969 @thejujvtsupost @yozora7154 @cherrycolabarbedwirebedpost @ae-mius @ropickle @chokesonspit @lansy-4 @just-pure-trash @mo0sin

[hannahbarberra162]

Victoria Punk Breeding Farm, Part 3 (Hybrid AU, standalone-ish chapter)

18+ MDNI | on Ao3

The other chapters

Note: this chapter could be read as a standalone. It has some angst but it's mostly smut. It's light vibes and it is consensual. It does tie into the other two chapters but it could be read on its own.

As always, thank you to @don-mellow for sentencing me to a lifetime in horny prison. You can check out their Patreon and see the lil Mosh sketch that inspired 7k+ worth of smut if you want.

~

You frowned as you eased your expensive low riding car down the muddy unpaved gravel road taking you towards your destination. Your sweet baby was meant to hug the city streets, not dodge potholes on some backwards ass farm, you thought to yourself as the body of the car shuddered. Luckily, you were a phenomenal driver so your baby would make it through the trip in one piece. Stopping in front of a worn yellow sign, you turned your sports car into the drive for the Victoria Punk Breeding Farm with a heavy sigh. You passed a few large vehicles, studded with rust, and sniffed your disdain. Sure, you grew up on a farm too, but you treated your car like it was your actual child. You’d never let your car rust out or come to harm under your hand. 

You hadn’t wanted to come to the Farm at all but your body had finally forced your hand. You were a hybrid cow, though you didn’t look like a typical hybrid. And unfortunately for you, being a hybrid cow meant that you went into estrus once a month. It was kind of like a short-lived heat, only about six to ten hours but it was intense. Your hormones had you wanting to breed with the biggest, largest bull you could find but you'd stuffed the desire down for as long as you could remember. In fact, you spent so much of your adult life denying your genetics that it had come to bite you in the ass. You’d tried having human partners sate your need for bull cock but as the months and years went on, your estrus became more and more painful as you denied your body what it needed. What you needed was a bull - and you were here to hire one.

You had scoured sources looking for a discreet rural farm that could tend to your animalistic needs and the Victoria Punk Breeding Farm fit the bill perfectly. The farm had no online pictures, no website, no reviews, hell if you hadn’t found it referenced on the deep web you wouldn’t be sure it existed either. But you’d called the number from a prepaid snail and someone named Killer had confirmed that they did indeed take monthly breeding clients. You’d had your slot booked by the end of the call with only a few details needed over the phone. 

There was good reason for you to be secretive over your hybrid needs. If people found out your well hidden secret it would be catastrophic to your business and personal life. Hybrids weren’t legally lesser than humans but they were discriminated against in ways that made it hard for hybrids to compete with humans. Hybrids could be put under guardianship easily, they had fewer job and housing opportunities and could legally be refused services for no other reason than genetics. Right now you had your life on the trajectory you wanted - you had human friends and a high paying job as an attorney. A human attorney.

Luckily, no one in New World City knew you were a hybrid since you appeared and acted so human. You had won the genetic lottery and could pass as human easily so you’d taken advantage of that fact to become an attorney. You did everything in your power to maintain your appearance as a ball busting completely human lawyer and that meant you couldn’t blast the news that you were off to be plowed by some bull during your estrus. Instead you told everyone you were going to visit your old great Aunt and took PTO for a long weekend out in the country.

Turning off your car's engine in the gravel driveway, you threw your purse over your shoulder and strode to the large barn in front of you. You had left straight from the office and didn’t think to change your clothes or shoes so you had to pick your way through the gravel driveway to make it to the barn. You still had a pair of farm boots in the back of your closet but you didn’t think to bring them with you since you were much more focused on the…physical aspects of the upcoming event. You stepped up the stairs of the wooden porch, taking in the dilapidated looking building. Opening the unlocked screen door, you let it close behind you with a bang. There was a man in a white and blue striped mask sitting at a desk, looking over cook books and writing notes in a ledger. You crossed your arms and cleared your throat to get his attention but he didn’t look up.

“Excuse me,” you stated in irritation. The man finally picked his head up from his work but didn’t say anything. You couldn’t make out his expression because of his mask but he didn’t seem to be in a rush to help you.

“I’m here for an appointment ,” you stated primly while drumming your fingers against your arm. You'd never been the most patient person and now was no exception.

“We don’t service humans,” he stated after looking at you, then back down to his work.

“Good thing I’m not human. I’m a hybrid, I booked this appointment over the phone a few days ago with you. I can show you my birth certificate if you need.” You had prepared for this outcome, afraid that they wouldn’t believe you were a hybrid, so you brought your papers with you proving that you were born a hybrid to hybrid parents.

“No need,” the man stated, still not standing up. He remained silent for a few seconds longer before you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Well, is someone going to help me?” you asked while tapping your foot against the wood floor. The masked man’s face tilted to the side before he raised his hand to his face and yelled out towards the open doorway separating the front room from the rest of the barn.

“MOSH! CLIENT’S HERE!” 

You noticed he didn’t answer your question. Now your fingers were drumming, your toe tapping, and your eye twitching. You couldn’t stand being ignored or having your time wasted. Hell, you charged 5,000 beri an hour for your legal advice and this bull had just wasted several minutes of your precious time for free.

“Bratty?” asked the largest bull you’d ever seen in your life. The man with the mask working at the desk was huge, with rippling muscles, well over your height, and large horns that could gore someone with ease. But he looked like a regular human in comparison to the bull easing himself sideways through the doorway.

“Worse. Difficult. Have fun,” the masked bull said with a facetious salute towards the large bull coming through the open doorway. Your head had to tilt up to view the face of the bull you’d have to endure for your estrus. If being a hybrid was a spectrum, you were way at one end - you looked and acted completely human with no visible hybrid characteristics. Mosh was on the other end of the spectrum - there was no mistaking that he was a hybrid from first glance. He was the most bullish looking hybrid you’d ever seen, even during your days on your home farm. In fact, if he hadn’t been bipedal, he could almost have been mistaken for a complete bull. 

He made his way over to you, his long tail swishing behind him. It ended in a fine plume of long, bright pink hair that matched the vibrant ponytail on his head. His horns weren’t the longest you'd ever seen but they were thick and brown, which contrasted nicely against his hair. His legs were much more animal-like as his calves were set behind the knees and ended in a fine set of hooves. You'd heard that some hybrids had hooves but you'd never actually seen any yourself. He was big and beefy and there was no doubt he was a breeding bull. If he could satisfy you, you wouldn't care if he had a horn coming out his forehead.

He was wearing very little - a loincloth covered his lower half and a harness crossed his chest, the shoulder straps covered in spikes. His nipples were pierced and you could see his bulging muscles even as he was simply walking. Your mouth watered but you kept your composure - he was exactly your type. You'd always been attracted to the largest, most muscular man in any room. Human men could be larger than you and you always gravitated towards men who towered over you, making you feel smaller. It was some kind of biological drive that you'd never taken the time to examine in yourself. Just looking at Mosh made you wonder if you should have sought out bulls before, even ones with shitty attitudes like these.

“I'm not difficult , I have high expectations,” you gritted out at Mosh but directing the comment at Killer. Mosh looked you up and down, his eyes raking over your form in your tight fitting office clothes. After a moment, the pink haired bull snorted at you, which blew his bangs out of his face momentarily. 

“Let's go, heifer,” he said, not acknowledging your statement. He led the way, holding the door open for you as you trailed behind him. You could almost feel his eyes glued to your ass as you walked in front of him. Suddenly your world went off kilter as Mosh picked you up and threw you over his shoulder.

“H-hey! Put me down!” you demanded, trying to use the voice of authority that always worked in court. It would probably have been more effective if you hadn’t squeaked out the first word but maybe he would still listen. 

He didn’t.

You tried yelling at him to put you down but he ignored you completely, marching on as if it was completely normal to have a cow resting on his shoulder, pounding on his back. Finally resigning yourself to being carried like a little calf, Mosh carried you on to another building set behind the barn. It was a normal farm house, complete with an open porch with rocking chairs. The house reminded you of the farm you grew up on, sitting on the deck on long summer nights with your grandparents. Mosh opened the front door with a heavy hoof kick, breaking you from your thoughts. Stomping up the stairs, Mosh turned the knob to a large bedroom.

The room was sparsely decorated - it had one of the largest beds you had ever seen, the sheets and covers tangled up together. There was a door to an ensuite bathroom, a rather large bookshelf filled with older books, and a large wooden desk with an office chair. The only decoration on the wall was a mural of the same design you’d seen on the entrance to the farm, a jolly roger with a knife and red hair with goggles atop the head. Mosh set you down on your feet gently and plopped himself down in the office chair with a thud, spreading his thighs. You could see the bulge of his cock and heavy balls against his loincloth and it made you want to peek under to see the whole package.

“C’mon, little cow. Take off your clothes, lemme see what I’m working with,” he said, leaning back in his chair, his arms behind his head. His broad chest spread out, making you want to lick and bite his nipples. You’d done it a few times in the past but your other partners had been neutral or hadn’t liked it. 

“Right down to business then?” you asked, cocking an eyebrow. You crossed your arms across your chest again, though not in annoyance this time. Crossing your arms squished your boobs together slightly, showing off a little cleavage. You were already feeling horny and you wanted the experience to start sooner rather than later.

“I can smell the estrus on ya. It’s your choice - either take off your clothes now, or I’ll rip em off ya in about an hour when you beg me to,” he said with a shrug. His bluntness was a little surprising but it didn’t upset you. On the contrary, you found his upfront nature complimentary to your own. You couldn't stand when people beat around the bush or said things they didn't mean - anything that wasted your time was a crime in your opinion.

Looking over the satisfied bull, you decided to give him a little show, let him know he wasn’t the only person in the room with power. Sure, he was good looking, but you were the one with money and a job in the city. You started unbuttoning your blouse slowly, your fingers dancing their way elegantly to rid yourself of your button down. Letting the shirt hang open, you took your time to expose the even skin of your chest, untainted by cow spots and ran your fingers over your decolletage. Finally removing your arms from the sleeves of your shirt, you placed it on the bed, leaving you only in your bra, pencil skirt and heels. Mosh’s eyes were glued to you as you unzipped the zipper on the side of your skirt, slowly wiggling your hips from side to side in order to free your ass from the confines of your clothes. The skirt dropped to the floor and you stepped out of the pooled fabric towards him.

“No panties?” he asked, palming his massive erection over his loincloth. 

“Nope,” you said, popping your ‘p.’ “This has been on my mind all day, thought I would spare us both the time of taking them off,” you practically purred, reaching behind you to unclasp your bra. You held the bodice across your chest as you slipped your arms out of the lacey affair, making sure you were still covered. Mosh watched you with rapt attention as you finally moved your arm, letting the bra fall to the ground. He sucked in a breath through his teeth as he took in the sight of your naked form. You didn’t want to say anything but having his complete attention was a heady experience. You’d long fantasized about a bull taking you during your estrus, unable to keep his hands away from your body as you both brought each other to repeated ecstasy. You walked your fingers down your legs towards the straps of the red shoes you’d worn as Mosh pulled on one of his horns for stimulation.

“Nah, keep the high heels on. Like those shoes,” he said, practically licking his lips. You leaned your weight onto one leg, thrusting out one well rounded hip to give him the full effect of you in your stiletto heels. They hurt your feet more than humans knew but damn, they made you feel good. 

“C’mere, wanna touch that soft skin,” he said, extending his arms to you. You were a little surprised you weren’t starting out on the bed but you’d let him call the shots this round. Your mind was in the pleasantly fuzzy phase of estrus where you were more open and agreeable to things you normally would be prickly about, like following someone else’s orders. You sauntered over to the bull in your sights, a pleased hum coming out of your lips. Just to do a little tease, you turned in a small circle to show yourself off before being within arm’s length. You thought you’d see the same heated look of desire as before, but now Mosh sported a frown. 

No one had ever given you that look upon seeing you naked before and you missed a step, almost falling into his lap. You stood before the half naked bull, putting yourself between his spread legs. He ran his rough hands up and down your sides, back, and ass, as if familiarizing himself with your body. He left your tits alone for the moment, much to your surprise and disappointment.

“Where’s your tail?” he asked, concern tinging his tone as his fingers felt along the base of your spine. 

“Oh, my parents had it docked when I was a baby. Y’know since I was born with no spots and no horns, they thought I could have a regular life,” you explained. Mosh turned you around and bent you over slightly, so you rested your palms on the large desk in front of you. You felt the breath coming out of his nose on your back as he examined the area.

“So no horns, no spots, no tail. What kinda cow you again?” he asked, his thumb rubbing over the scar where your tail had been. The action made you want to moan - no one had ever prodded at it before and you hadn’t realized how sensitive you were there. His thick fingers continued to work at it, making a tingle start low in your belly.

“J-jersey cow,” you replied, arching your back into his touch. He huffed against your skin once more before turning you around and sitting you on the edge of the desk, his large hands grasping you around the lower stomach.

“That’s sad,” he said as he scooted himself closer to you. 

“No it’s not, they wanted the best life for me that I could possibly have. They wanted me to -”

“To not be a hybrid,” Mosh said, finishing your sentence as he drew closer. You didn’t answer but tucked the sting of his statement away for later. Right now, all you could think about was that your tits were at mouth level and you hoped he was going to do something about it. Estrus was hitting you in full and you knew in about an hour you’d be whining and begging him for anything and everything he’d give you. 

“‘S alright, I’m gonna show you what a hybrid can do. Lay back,” he ordered. You were all too glad to comply, laying down against the cool grain of the desk. There were stacks of papers on the desk but you tried your best not to disturb them, along with some kind of medical equipment you couldn’t identify. He grabbed your ankles in his massive hands and hiked your legs over his shoulders, your heels a stark contrast to his spotted skin. 

“Lemme see that pussy that’s cryin’ for me. I can smell it practically weeping,” he murmured. You were glad he wasn’t trying to kiss your mouth or pretend what you were doing was anything other than a business arrangement. However, you were pleased as punch he was going to kiss your pussy. Sighing and putting your hands behind your head, you hummed as you felt his hot breath edge closer to your already wet pussy. 

“Lemme see this lil’ designer cunt,” he said as his roughened fingers spread your lips apart. He sucked in a breath against his teeth. “Shit, no hair? Lookit this cute little thing, you sure you’re not human?” he asked, biting the soft inside of a thigh. You smirked to yourself - part of your maintenance routine was a complete wax of all your body hair, including a full brazilian. Hybrid body hair was a little more wiry than a human’s and you didn’t want to risk it. Besides, it was worth it for a reaction like this.

“N-not humaaAAaahh~!” you started to protest that you weren’t human but were cut off by the longest, strongest tongue you’d ever felt parting your pussy lips. Mosh began lapping at you like a cat with a bowl of cream, licking you in long broad strokes and ending at your clit at the top. His tongue wasn’t exactly like a human’s, it was firmer and strong, not to mention the extreme length Mosh was currently using to his advantage. You were expecting some heavy petting to begin the ordeal but you weren’t complaining about having your pussy eaten like it was manna from heaven.

It felt like Mosh’s tongue was everywhere - the base grinding against your slit while the tip flicked against your clit. He spent what felt like half an hour teasing you, bringing you close to orgasm only to back off at the last moment. It was annoying but you guessed he was trying to prepare you for that giant cock you’d seen earlier. You moaned loudly and rolled your hips trying to get closer. If this was what you’d been missing with a bull, you were sorry for lost time.

Reaching up, you grabbed his horns to pull him closer as he started to work his tongue into you. The pointed heel of your shoe dug into his back but he hardly seemed to notice as the tip of his tongue breached your tight hole. Pushing it further in, he tongue fucked you as he used the tip of his nose to rub against your clit. Closing your eyes, you pulled harder on his horns as he worked you over. You felt your desire winding tighter inside and hoped he didn’t pull away at the last moment.

Which, of fucking course, he did. 

You wanted to stomp your foot but they were currently hiked over Mosh’s massive shoulders. “What the fuck?” you said, hitting your fist against the desk. Mosh picked up his head from between your thighs and grinned at you. You didn’t return it.

“So impatient. ‘S gonna take time so I don’t break ya in half. You’ve got nowhere else to go right now. Relax,” he said, pulling you to sitting again. But you couldn’t relax. In fact, you were angrier than you could remember being since the last time you’d lost a case in front of a judge. He started running his index finger up and down your slit slowly, teasing you further.

“Well, Mosh, ” you started to say in an overly patient tone as if you were speaking to a child, “I can’t relax. Right now I’m a little wound up because some one -”

“Didn’t give you what you wanted,” Mosh said, finishing your sentence with a grin as his finger tapped your clit. You wanted to punch him right through his teeth but refrained because you didn’t want to be left high and dry. “And why should I? You’ve been… difficult,” Most said with a twinkle in his eye. 

“Oh, you want to play that game? Have me beg with wide eyes and tears? Maybe on hands and knees?” you said, mimicking a sad and pathetic voice.

“Nah, I like you this way. Turn around,” he ordered, his hands already on you and pulling you to the floor. You were standing in front of him as he turned you around and bent you over the large desk, your torso pressed flat against the surface. One of his large hands settled on your mid back, keeping your skin warm despite the cool surface of the desk. Mosh scooted himself closer and you couldn’t help but wiggle in anticipation of his cock.

“Excited, eh? Gotta be patient, keep tellin’ ya,” Mosh chided with good humor, his fingers rubbing your skin. You waited for him to start rubbing your clit to prepare for the main event, but instead he moved a pile of papers to the corner of the desk away from himself and you. Your eyes flicked over the papers in a force of habit before you remembered where you were and that they weren’t your responsibility.

Before you could suck in a breath to start yelling at him, you heard the sound of a metal buckle being unclasped and Mosh stood up and leaned over you. He wasn’t covered in hair but his skin had a much rougher texture than your own. You felt his absolutely massive erection rubbing through your folds and the only thing keeping you from thrusting backwards onto it was his hand on your back. He shifted so that one of his hands was braced on the desk as the other fisted his girthy cock.

“I’m not small, so if you feel anything bad, you gotta let me know,” he rasped into your ear. He began pushing himself slowly into you as his thick cock speared through you. You’d been stretched before but nothing like this - it felt like there wasn’t even room for you to breathe as he continued nearly cleaving you in half. There wasn't anything in the world but Mosh's huge, fat cock as he rocked it slowly into your body.

“That’s it, such a good cow, take a little more, there ya go,” Mosh started to praise you in your ear as he used his free hand to rub at your clit. The praise slut in you rose to the surface as Mosh worked you open until you felt his heavy balls hit the backs of your legs.

“So wet for me, takin’ me so well,” Mosh cooed at you, continuing to rub at your clit. Your face was a little heated from the praise but you were still prone over the desk so it wasn’t like he could see. “Ya ever had a bull cock this big?” he asked. You groaned as he started rubbing the spot where your tail had been again while his other hand continued to rub small circles on your clit.

“N-no,” you moaned out, your cunt tightening around the massive cock within you. You couldn’t wait for the delicious feeling of his thrusts to begin as he….sat down in the chair, with you impaled on his cock. His thighs were so massive that sitting down spread your legs almost wider than was comfortable. You saw red but as you sucked in a breath to yell and scream at this slow-ass bull, he pinched both of your nipples so hard it scrambled your mind.

“Ow! That hurts!” you whined as he rolled your nipples between his fingers. 

“ ‘S supposed to, don’t want to hear more from you about wasting time,” Mosh snorted, keeping pressure on your nipples. His entire hands were cupping your breasts, squeezing and groping them as his cock sat within your tight channel. The feeling of being overfull was making you squirm on him as he continued to play with your tits. 

“Smell so fuckin’ good,” he said, leaning down to gently bite your shoulder. “Taste fuckin’ good too,” he continued as he kissed up towards your neck. You shifted your weight between your legs trying to feel some friction from his cock but the positioning of your thighs made it nearly impossible. One of Mosh’s arms wrapped around your middle while the other continued to pluck at your nipple. Mosh ground his palm against your lower stomach, making you arch forwards towards his hand. You could feel him pushing on his own cock as you kept shifting and moving. Sweat was beginning to drip down your forehead from the effort of keeping yourself still. 

“Feel me in there, little cow? Deep in ya? This is how you should be kept, fucked full of come by a bull night and day. Not stuck in some stuffy office, playing at being human,” he husked as you whimpered. 

“P-please, I need -” you didn’t want to admit it but you were nearly in tears. Mosh’s teasing combined with the cockwarming was making you feel like you were bursting at the seams - this was more intense than anything you’d ever taken before.

“I gotcha, little cow. Don’t worry, just needed to get ya used to me. Feels good, yeah?” Mosh asked you, running a hand down your back. Your chest was heaving, unable to catch your breath from the overwhelming sensations. 

“Y-yeah,” you said, an errant tear streaking down your cheek. You wiped it away before he could see the effect he was having on you. 

“Gonna make you feel better now, OK? Gonna take care of ya,” he murmured, still running his hands over your skin. “Just a few minutes like this, getcha warmed up for me. Wanna see what this pretty little pussy can do, don’t wanna hurt cha on the first round, yeah? It’ll be better for you if we take our time, none of that impatience,” You nodded, knowing he was right but still wanting more. 

He nuzzled into your ear and used his long tongue to lick up and down your neck and in your ear. One hand remained pressed against your stomach while the other errantly played with your tits. Eventually your breath evened out and you were able to sit on Mosh’s lap without scooting around every moment. Your eyes returned to the paperwork on his desk, noticing some legal documents with notes scribbled in the margin in clean handwriting.   

“Time’s up, I think you can take it. Made a mess of my thighs with your slick already,” Mosh said unexpectedly, pulling himself all the way out of you. You nearly cried from the loss of contact but Mosh quickly had you in his arms and moved you onto his desk, putting you on hands and knees. With the desk’s height, you were now perfectly aligned for Mosh to slide back into you, making you moan low in your throat. Mosh started to fuck you slowly, pushing himself into you inch by inch and removing himself at the same speed. You pushed your hips back but were met by his hands holding you in place.

“Easy, calm down. ‘S not a race,” he stated, unamused at your antics. You hummed but allowed him to set his slow pace. After a few long strokes, he began to move faster, thrusting himself into you fully. His long, hard cock was just the right length - long enough to give you what you wanted without causing pain now that he'd stretched you. You tossed your hair back and sighed from contentment. 

Reaching over you, Mosh grabbed the medical equipment off the corner of the desk. It was a medium sized gray box with two tubes coming out the side. If you didn’t know any better, you would have said it was a nebulizer. He flicked a switch on the side and grabbed two plastic cylinders that had been lying on the desk, attaching them to the ends of the tubes. The machine started to hum as the intermittent sound of air hissing filled the air. Before you could ask what it was for, Mosh pinched your right nipple and placed one of the cylinders over the hardened bud. The machine created a vacuum and the cylinder stuck in place, pulling your nipple gently every few seconds. It kind of felt like someone was sucking on them, but very lightly.

“Ever been milked before?” he asked, already pinching your other nipple. You shook your head as the machine started to rhythmically pull on both nipples. Mosh was slowly thrusting as he checked the fit and pulled on the cylinders to make sure they would stay. Once both cylinders were over the center of your areolas, he turned up the dial on the machine. Suddenly, the pressure increased as the milking machine pulled on your nipples while Mosh started fucking you faster. Mosh’s movements made the tubing bounce against your chest as his balls started swinging again. The harsh bite of the machine against your sensitive nipples was on the edge of pain but combined with Mosh’s pistoning it felt heavenly, though overwhelming.

“A-ah, n-no, this is too m-much -”

“You’re gonna like being milked, you’re a Jersey cow,” Mosh proclaimed while snaking a hand under you. His fingers rubbed and gently pinched your clit while he fucked you with his massive cock and the machine milked your tits. The milking machine felt like it was biting your nipples with the pressure and every thrust of Mosh’s cock had his juicy balls swinging against you. He picked up his pace, his every thrust hitting your cunt just right. You closed your eyes as you hurtled towards your first orgasm, an animalistic moan ripped from your throat as your walls clenched hard around the fat cock in you.

“ G’na come for me, little cow? G’na come all over this huge bull cock like the heifer you are?” Mosh teased you, rubbing your clit faster. “C’mon, you can do it. C’mon, come all over me like the messy, sloppy little cow you are,” Mosh said, giving your clit a light pinch. That was all it took for the band that had been tightening within you to snap as you screamed your first orgasm of the night. Mosh fucked you through your high, never stalling or missing a beat, just keeping that steady pace that was driving you to madness. Once you’d come back down, you grabbed one of the cylinders on your nipples and tried to pull it off. Mosh’s hand found your own and placed it back on the desk. He stuck the fingers that had been rubbing your clit into your mouth, which you accepted with a slack mouth. You were too burnt right now between the orgasm and your estrus to fight or argue so you sucked his fingers obediently.

“Oh, I’m not done with you, my little dairy cow. C’mere,” Mosh said, removing his fingers, grabbing you around the middle. He turned the machine down slightly but it continued to pull and tug on your now sore nipples. You whined but as his tempo picked up again all you could do was lower your shoulders to take what he was giving you. You weren’t usually like this with your partners but you weren’t usually being fucked by a massive bull while being milked.

“ Fuck! This pussy is nnh too fuckin’ aah good, can’t stop- can’t - need ta- hah hah, ”  Mosh babbled at you as his thrusts became more erratic. You were loving it, allowing yourself to be taken by a huge bull was one of your biggest secret fantasies. Mosh grabbed your hair in one fist, pulling your head back. The other hand spread your ass cheeks, his thumb starting to circle your tight back ring. You felt the budding of another orgasm as he fucked into you and pushed against your untried ass.

“G’na fuck you here too, little cow. You’re gonna be dripping from every hole,” Mosh grunted, his words sounding more like a promise than dirty talk. You panted back at him, unable to form coherent words as he worked you over. As he reached his peak, he stuck the tip of his thumb in your hole, which made you clench down on his cock in pleasure as you came again. He continued to pump into you, his hot ropes of come spurting deep within you. You weren’t worried, you were on birth control and had been for a long time. 

After giving you a few small thrusts, Mosh leaned over and turned off the machine. As Mosh grabbed the cylinders and gently tugged them off you hissed. During the act it had felt great to be milked but now your nipples were stiff and sore. You didn’t know how you were still on hands and knees - you wanted to collapse against the comfortable looking bed. Mosh scooped you up off the desk and you fell limp into his arms as he turned you over to inspect you.

“Still alive, little cow?” he asked, his cock somehow hard again and bobbing against your ass. His head dipped down as he captured a nipple in his warm mouth. You put your hands on his head to push him away but the way his tongue laved over your nipple actually felt pleasant. Instead you settled into his arms as he sat back down in the chair with you in his lap.

“Y’know, if we put you on the machine enough, your milk will come in,” Mosh stated, switching over to your other nipple. You hummed but the thought had your pussy pulsing in heat. “What? Ya didn’t know that?” Mosh laughed lightly. “Never been milked either, huh? Kinda fuckass bulls you been with before?” he asked teasingly. 

“Never been with a bull before,” you said with a shrug. Mosh’s mouth opened slightly as his eyebrows furrowed in the middle.

“Whaddya mean? You weren’t a virgin or anything -”

“No, no. I’ve had sex before, lots. Never with a bull though. Just humans,” you replied as Mosh settled you on his lap, a string of come dripping from your core onto his massive thighs.

“Shit. I didn’t - I woulda been easier on ya if I knew it was your first time,” he said, rubbing your shoulders sympathetically. Now was your turn for you to furrow your brow.

“Like I said, I wasn’t a virgin. Had loads of sex before -”

“Nothing like that though, I’m sure. No human can compete with a bull. You’ve probably been suffering every month because of your pride. Like I said, sorry,” Mosh said with real affection in his voice. You weren’t sure how to take his words - you didn’t want his sympathy or empathy but some part of you wondered if he was right.

“By the way, you don’t have to answer that cease and desist,” you said with a yawn while relaxing your head on Mosh’s shoulder. 

“What’s that?” Mosh asked with interest, for once not telling you to be patient or calm down.

“That cease and desist for loud sexual noise on your desk. It doesn’t mean anything, you can keep it for your records or throw it in the garbage. Farm land comes with farm noises, like hybrids and animals fucking,” you explained, now calm after your two massive orgasms.

“‘S helpful to know. You a legal assistant or somethin’?” he asked, still massaging your sore nipples.

“Lawyer,” you replied, not giving any more information than necessary.

“Hybrids can’t become lawyers,” Mosh replied, his tone a little more bitter than you were expecting.

“There’s no laws prohibiting hybrids from becoming lawyers. Most colleges will turn down hybrids based on their names or how they look or any reason they can find, but legally hybrids aren’t barred from the profession. I found a school that didn’t ask for my birth certificate and a few years later became a lawyer. No one knows I’m not human though,” you said sleepily. Mosh didn’t respond but picked up your limp body and brought you over to the bed.

“Hmm. Might have ya look over a few things later if you’re not too fucked out,” he said, taking the covers off the made bed and placing you on the sheets. He picked up one of your ankles and undid the clasp to your shoes with surprising delicacy. Throwing the expensive shoe over his shoulder, he repeated the same process to your other foot. You sighed in contentment as your feet were now free from the lovely looking but horrible feeling high heels.

“ ‘S fine, I’ll glance at whatever. But I don’t wanna waste my time sleeping,” you said as he covered you with a blanket. It smelled like sweet hay and reminded you of the blanket you kept from your old barn.

“Always about wasting time with you. Take a short nap, you’ll need it for what I’m going to do to you next,” Mosh said, spanking your ass with no heat. “Don’t cha want to see how you’ll look with a tail?”

“Don’t have a tail,” you mumbled, already drifting off. 

“You will in about an hour. Hope your ass is ready,” Mosh said with a smirk. You snorted but decided against arguing. You trusted Mosh would prep you and you were a little curious.

~

Roughly a half dozen hours later and you were leaking Mosh’s come from every hole. He’d thoroughly used your mouth, pussy, and ass, and you’d loved every minute of it. Your estrus had ended and it was the best one you’d ever had. You were in the bed he’d bent you over, had you ride him on, and had taken you in every position you knew. Stretching your arms and legs, you reveled in the soreness of your body and the knowledge that you’d been thoroughly and completely fucked out of your mind. Mosh had gone to shower and you sauntered into the steamy bathroom for a quick chat before you left.

“I gotta go, my time’s up,” you said, sitting yourself on the counter and letting your legs dangle.

“Could always stay for round two,” Mosh offered, soaping up his torso. You saw your lingering bite marks on his nipples and thought over his offer for a moment. It was tempting but you had a life to get back to.

“We already had rounds two through ten,” you replied, watching the suds run down his gorgeous body.

“I’ll see ya next time then. Don’t wax your hair off, I like ya natural,” he said, his cock starting to harden as he watched your naked form sitting on his bathroom counter.

“And what makes you think there’s a next time? Maybe I won’t come back next month,” you said, arching an eyebrow. Mosh just smirked at you, running a hand up and down his thick horns. He knew - and you knew - he was right. There would be a next time, you were already imagining it in your mind. You’d make the hike out to this shithole every weekend if you could get more of Mosh. 

“You’ll be back. See ya next estrus little cow. Don’t wax,” he said with another smile. You returned it and walked back to the main room and began to get dressed. It didn’t take long since you hadn’t worn all that much so you were done in about ten minutes. You yelled a quick goodbye to Mosh and opened the bedroom door, not bothering to put your painful heels back on your feet. Walking down the hallway through the main house, you heard sniffling coming through an open door. You slowed your walk - it wasn’t really your business but you’d always been a hybrid who supported hybrids so you wanted to lend a hand where you could. Pushing open the wood door a little more, you saw a tired looking orange cow hybrid sitting on the floor, sniffling as she cried quietly. Leaning against the door frame with your heels in your hands, you considered her for a moment. She looked up at you with some inscrutable emotion before returning to her thoughts.

“What’s the matter Red? Bad estrus?” you asked. 

“No. Don’t wanna be here,” the cow mumbled out.

“So leave? What’s the issue?” you pressed. It wasn’t really your business but the cow kind of reminded you of your younger cousins and maybe all of Mosh’s talk about being a hybrid had hit home for you.

“Can’t. They bought me,” the cow said, wiping her cheek with the back of her hand.

“They can’t buy you. It doesn’t work like that,” you automatically replied. You’d provided a lot of pro bono legal support anonymously to hybrids over the years as a way to assuage your guilt for blending in. You’d helped save hundreds of cows from situations they didn’t want to be in - the laws of guardianship weren’t well known and kept purposefully vague in order to subjugate hybrids. It had almost become your personal mission to help as my cows as you could escape from abusive farms and “owners.”

“Well they did. And now I can’t leave,” the cow stated, putting her head back down on her knees.

“Sure you can. C’mon, I’ll take you back to New World City. You know someone there?” you asked. The cow looked up at you with big eyes as you fished out your keys from your designer purse. Sure, this would be your first in person saving, but it wasn’t really any different than helping hybrids with legal advice.

“You’d do that? Really? But I - they’re gonna punish us. I tried getting out once and I got caught and -” you threw your keys up in the air and caught them in your palm.

“Baby, they’re only gonna punish you if they can catch you. Sure, I’m a lawyer now. But I used to be an ace driver - faster than lightning and just as unpredictable. Let’s hit it,” you stated with a wide smile. The cow’s eyes lit up as she stood and followed closely behind you.

Taglist: @mfreedomstuff @fanaticsnail

[radio-fmm]

One piece men react to your new haircut

ft. Law, Zoro and Sanji

fluff + gn reader with long hair

Masterlist

LAW

“Y/n-ya” Laws muffled voice ringed in your ears from outside your dorm, a tad softer tone coloring his words than he would usually use, a tone that always accompanied your name after it

He was met with silence

You had skipped breakfast, first red flag, and when you didn’t showed up for the monthly meeting at his office he knew something was up, he just didn’t know exactly what could be

“Go away” the doctors eyebrows curled in confusion, you sounded upset 

“Can you open the door please?”

“No”

Laws mind ran wild trying to think of a reason for your behavior changing one day to another, hiding away in your dorm

“Shambles”

The tall man appears in front of your door as he finds you underneath your bedsheets curled in a ball. Obviously what his mind zeroed in to immediately was that you may be feeling unwell, but as the tiniest softest sob left your mouth he realized it was a different kind of unwell he had not anticipated 

Feeling extremely unprepared, he sits at the end of your bed, immediately making you squirm and hide further in your bed

“Don’t look at me, I'm horrendous!” The captain cannot stop the snickers that scapes his mouth at your statement 

“Don’t be ridiculous” In a swift move Law removes the sheets, revealing your face hiding behind your hands

He noticed right away what you were referring to as apparently ‘horrendous’. Your locks were cut short too way above your shoulders, at the height of the frame of your face. He admires the new style, a smile tugging at his lips before he removes your hands from your regretful face, your eyes scan his expression in total terror

“I thought I could do it myself” a whisper could be heard louder than the words leaving you as you melt at Laws sweet touch “I look so bad”

Law runs his finger through your soft short strands before stroking your cheek “You look just fine y/n-ya… it quite suits you” 

Your face turns from his grasp but your Captain is quick to catch you “You’re gorgeous any day, any time, with long or short hair” Doe eyes met his as if you were relieved at his praise

“Promise?”

“Promise”

Your short hair was quick to become Laws favorite look on you

ZORO

“Don’t move” Zoro's tongue peeks at the side of his lips as he finds the perfect angle to cut your soft long strands of hair

“If you cut me in half…”

“Quit complaining I haven’t even started” He watches as your hands show him what length to cut for the third time, the swordsman takes a deep breath. A swift move from his strong arms followed by the sound of a cut near your ears is the last thing that fills your senses before a weight is lifted from your shoulders. Your eyes peek at the floor, a sea of your now old hair beneath you

“Perfect” you hear Zoro mutter, you run your hand through your hair, a grimace appearing on your face

"It's not straight” you sigh, defeated 

“What are you talking about?” Zoro appears in your field of vision and scans the way your hair sits at the sides of your frame, before you can even complain about it, another cut is heard disrupting the peace of The Sunny. 

Instantly you run to the bathroom mirror, it’s not perfect per se´, but he got the exact length you wanted to. You were a short hair kind of a person your whole life, but when you had started to sail through the sea, embarking alongside the future king of the pirates, it was hard to keep up a neat cut like the one you liked, so you resorted to a more easy way out. Another sigh escapes you, a different one this time, this one is a content one. You smile as you pose before the mirror, which reflects another figure outside the bathroom watching you intently

“Thank you Zoro” you offer him the softest and most thankful smile through your reflection, the swordsman shrugs, trying not to make a big deal out of it, truth was he was more than glad to help you, in anything you may need, it made him feel important. His eyes take on the new view of your appearance once more, his heart thrumbing in his ears and a blush sitting on his cheeks, he didn't know how you managed to look even more breathtaking 

“No problem” 

You wink at him at you may have broke him, the swordsman stays frozen in place as you run to show Nami and Robin your new look 

SANJI

The cook stays in a trance as he watches you braid your long beautiful locks in a fish braid before bed, as you tie it you watch your reflection for a while, a hesitant look appearing making your nose scrunch, the antic making his heart jump in his chest. Sanji bites his tongue, wanting to comment on this action, curious as to what could possibly be bothering you, because last time he checked, your reflection was nothing to frown about. 

"What's wrong, my love?" He asks ever so gently, you stay silent before walking to your shared bed, sighing as you lay beside him

“I want to cut my hair, it’s really hard work keeping it off my face, and it takes ages to wash and style” another frown sits on your lips as your eyes advert from his face

The reality was that you were planning on cutting your hair for a while now, but the thought of Sanji disliking your new look haunted you, but you were not gonna admit that to him

One of his delicate hands reach for your braid, then travel upwards to cup your face, he smiles in pure adoration pulling at your heart strings in the most intimate melody

“I know whatever you do to your hair is gonna look smashing” a dark red creeps from your neck and warms up your face at the blonde’s touch

After Sanji’s sweet reassurance, you missed no time and that morning reached for the scissors in your drawer and just went for it. As half your braid fell to the floor you felt the biggest weight being lift from your shoulders, your locks dancing free with the ocean’s breeze

The cook walked outside the kitchen in the middle of his breakfast prep for a smoke, but his cigarette hit the floor the instant he spotted you leaning on the railing of The Sunny, he was left stunted, heart eyes following your beautiful silhouette as he rushed your way

“Stunning” his hands immediately landing on your strands, brushing them slowly and lovingly

“You were right” you smiled at him content written all over your face

“Of course I was darling, I know an angel when I see one”

Luffy’s whines of annoyance could be heard all over the ship when he found his plate empty in the kitchen and Sanji nowhere to be found, he just had to stay to admire you all morning, it was a must 

[number1villainstan]

Read it on Dreamwidth

May Monthly Short Piece--an original fic, and also a really heavy one. Second person POV, no happy ending, vampirism as a metaphor for disability, ableism (including internalized ableism).

I used this post of mine as the themes, although some of the more hopeful bits (like learning to accept yourself) didn't happen in this story. This story is just full blown hopelessness.

(@rubyjewelqueen You wanted to see this, if I remember? It might not be up your alley though; it's pretty different from the idea the post gave off.)

[myshunosun]

Myshunosun's first summer break

Same post on Patreon

Hey there!

Hope you've all been having a great start to the summer. Popping by to share that I'll be taking a summer break - meaning that I will not be posting any custom content throughout this summer (aka, first-of-the-month releases). However, I will continue sharing Patron-only posts, as well as some lots that I've been creating while working on my personal save file.

I have been publishing custom content as myshunosun since 2020, and I have been maintaining a regular upload schedule since 2021 (without skipping a month!) - which is kind of crazy now that I think about it. Well, it's time for me to take a short break from posting custom content! To put it simply, there are quite a lot of changes happening in my personal life - and I would like to enjoy and focus on these moments as much as possible.

As I plan to continue posting and sharing Patron-only updates throughout the summer, I will not be pausing the Patreon billing cycle. By default, my content is always free and public upon release, and paid members receive my monthly Patron-only updates - so you can choose to cancel your membership if you wish.

Funnily enough, as I'm typing this post, I am working on a piece of custom content. But I will try to keep my word, and you shall get your hands on my next custom content set in September.

Thank you for your support, myshunosun

[1000sunnygo]

One Piece Academy Quick Translation index

Chapter 40-44 (Donquixote Brothers subplot)

Chapter 40: Cora san

Part 1 | Part 2

Chapter 41: The Dark Bingo Tournament

Part 1 | Part 2

Chapter 42: My Only Little Brother

Part 1 | Part 2

Chapter 43: Aren't you the Big Brother?

Part 1 | Part 2

Chapter 44: Brothers

Part 1 | Part 2

-

Chapter 47: Lost Dog

Part 1 | Part 2

-

Radiant Summit subplot

Chapter 51: The legend of the Radiant Summit

Part 1 | Part 2

Chapter 52: Disaster on the Mystery Mountain

Part 1 | Part 2

Chapter 53: The Rainbow Silver Treasure

Part 1 | Part 2

Extra/Omake Translations

(2021) Victory Carnival booklet comics (4 short comics)

Principal Sengoku's Picnic with Law and Rosi

Bartolomeo's New World Middle School Investigation notes

Law spoiling Onigiri | Bepo and Onigiri

Volume 8 extra (Faculties)

Notes

One Piece Academy is an ongoing official One Piece spinoff that releases in Monthly Saikyo Jump. In the magazine, the chapters are roughly 40 pages, but they're divided into two parts and released bimonthly on the official site.

You can find chapters 1-34 translated unofficially here (1-5) and here (6-34). Raws for 35 onwards can be found here.

Like most spinoffs, the original author isn't involved in its writing. However, it has been confirmed that Oda himself decided the nicknames exchanged between characters (Cora and the SHs) in the donquixote brothers arc.

For latest chapters, check the official site. It removes access to free chapters as new ones add up, so if you like a specific chapter, better keep all pages saved!

Here's the author's Twitter.

At the moment, I'm only translating specific chapters or arcs that feature Law. This post is updated after each new translation.

[fanauthorworkshop]

Applications now open!

The Fall 2024 Fanauthor Workshop is a 7-week writing course led by Betts (@bettsfic). The workshop lends a supportive space to writers who identify as fans to receive constructive feedback on fanfiction, original fiction, or creative nonfiction.

Art by @emimayooo 💖

Where & When

We meet weekly over Zoom. You can apply for one of two sessions:

Group A: Wednesdays from Oct. 9 - Nov. 20, 12-2pm EST

Group B: Mondays from Oct. 7 - Nov. 18, 6-8pm EST

What

FAW is a feedback-oriented workshop with the occasional generative session. This means that each week we read 2 pieces submitted by participants, offer written feedback, and discuss them over Zoom. You'll be able to sign up for the week you would like to workshop your own piece, which can be anything under 6k words.

There may be weeks where, in lieu of workshopping, I present external readings and writing exercises. These sessions will be dependent on the number of participants. For example, if we have 10 participants and 6 workshop weeks, that means one week will be devoted to a reading discussion and generative activity.

I developed a workshop model that focuses mostly on affirmations and positivity, as well as descriptive over prescriptive feedback, which is to say, describing one's experience of reading rather than prescribing solutions to perceived problems. We also present improvement-oriented feedback, but avoid negativity, judgment, and pedantry. Week 1 is spent going over the model and how to give feedback.

About FAW

The first FAW was held in 2017 as an independent study in my MFA. I restarted it in 2022 and since then have led 9 sessions with a total of over 50 participants, about half of whom have participated in the workshop more than once.

Participation in the workshop includes entrance into the FAW community, an active Discord server where we host:

Ongoing accountability meetings, where we chat over Zoom about our projects and set goals for ourselves every other week

A monthly longform writing workshop, where writers can workshop any story between 6k and 100k words

A short story club, where we read and chat about original short form works

Events and activities like movie nights and co-op gaming

Scheduled write-ins and impromptu writing sprints

We also chat about writing and craft, offer resources, and share many, many pet photos.

In addition, participants of the workshop receive:

A one-hour consultation with me to go over your workshop feedback, come up with a plan for revision and/or publication, or anything else you’d like to discuss regarding your writing

Open enrollment in future workshops

Priority sign-ups for WTFS (Write the Fucking Story), WIP Cleanout, and other one-off generative sessions

Eligibility

Anyone over the age of 18 who considers themselves a participant of fandom and who is familiar with fanfiction may apply. A stable internet connection is also required.

Cost

The cost of the workshop is "pay what you can" with the recommended amount of $300. To be as inclusive as possible, I don't want money to be a deterrent for anyone interested in participating.

Payment (or notification of nonpayment) will be requested prior to the start of workshop via PayPal, Venmo, or Wise. You can also pay in installments.

Application requirements

To apply, you will need:

An informal cover letter discussing your fan history and goals as a (fan)writer (more specific instructions on submittable)

A short sample of your writing, either original work or fanfiction. This may be previously published/posted

You can apply via submittable. Applications close September 15.

FAQ under the cut

FAQ

Are there any content restrictions to what I can workshop?

The only restriction is word count (max 6k), with the following caveats:

If you workshop a piece in a form other than prose (for example, a script), your peers may not be able to offer constructive feedback on that aspect of the work. Participants are asked only to have a familiarity with prose.

Content warnings are required for each piece (if applicable), and participants who are uncomfortable reading certain subject matter may abstain from your workshop.

What is the time commitment of the workshop?

As a participant of the workshop, you'll be asked to:

Workshop any piece of your own prose up to 6k words, which will need to be uploaded to the group folder one week before your workshop.

Read 2 pieces per week, write out your individual crit, and attend the workshop itself.

What is the timeline of the workshop?

In week 1, we go over the syllabus and do a writing exercise. Weeks 2 through 7 will be a workshop, a discussion of an external reading, or a writing activity. Prior to the start of workshop, you'll be able to sign up for the week you would like to workshop your piece.

Structure of the sessions:

Question of the day

First workshop

Short break

Second workshop

We'll go over my workshop model and the syllabus in week 1.

Do I have to participate in the Zoom meetings (camera and mic on)?

Attending the workshop itself is required, and everyone is asked to offer at least one note of positive feedback on each piece, so mics are necessary. Cameras are preferred but not required.

You can't asynchronously participate, i.e. read the pieces and offer written feedback without attending the sessions.

Can workshop participants submit to OFIC Magazine?

Yes! Part of the reason I run the workshop is to inspire and promote the original work of fanwriters. You can follow us on tumblr @oficmag.

Who is running the workshop?

@bettsfic! In short, I lived a dreary cubicle life as a banker until I found fanfiction at 24. I loved it so much that I quit my job to get an MFA in creative writing. I loved the MFA so much that I became a writing teacher. I have some publications, awards, an agent, and 2 million words of fic on ao3. I don't have a book out yet but I'm getting there.

Currently I'm a writing coach and freelance editor. I also have a lowkey writing-related newsletter. And I've been answering writing advice asks on my blog for 10 years.

If you want an idea of the kind of writing activities I create, last summer I worked with @books on a workshop series which includes craft essays and some fun prompts.

If you're interested in my original work, my short story "Not If, When" is a good representation of my writing. For something darker, check out "Shut Up and Kill Me."

What is the workshop like?

Check out G's experience of attending the workshop. And here's some feedback from previous participants.

One final note: I'm working on updating the copy about the workshop on my website and move it over to OFIC's website. This post and Submittable has the most updated information on the workshop. If you have questions about discrepancies (or anything at all), you can shoot me an ask, DM me, or add me on Discord (I'm bettsfic there too). Or you can email me at ekweeks@gmail.com.

[meetinginsamarra]

Fanfics I really liked in January 2025

So. Since I keep a list of what I´ve read anyway (there´s always a list), I will rec all the fics I´ve wholly enjoyed on a monthly basis. Old and new, canon or AU, big or small authors, long or short but nearly always Johnlock (-ish).

-----

Unremarkable by DiscordantWords @discordantwords

It's an unremarkable day. John has a date. Sherlock has a case. And both Mycroft and Rosie have just been shoved into the boot of a car.

Awesome Mycroft-baby Rosie interaction! Fierce John and Sherlock to the rescue.

-----

Wasteland, Baby by LoloLolly 

Things hadn’t felt right in 221B since John and Rosie moved back in. Everything was off. Wrong. If only Sherlock knew it was about to get even worse. But, for vegetation to return to a barren wasteland, rain from thunderstorms is necessary. A brushfire, even, to burn away the old and provide nourishment for the new… and to expose a truth that’s been present all along.

Sherlock gets abducted and John does everyting to get him back which changes their relationship (for the better, of course!).

-----

When We Were Young by Calais_Reno @calaisreno

John and Sherlock met at school, and were a bit more than friends. But they didn't stay in touch afterwards. Life goes on, and when John returns from Afghanistan, he takes a position at Barts as a trauma specialist, working in the Emergency Department. As he reports for work one day, a man jumps off the roof of the hospital. John's world tilts on its axis.

AND THE COMPANION PIECE

My Heart at Your Door by Calais_Reno 

Years ago, Sherlock Holmes loved John Watson, but they were schoolboys, and when it came time to part ways, Sherlock decided it was for the best that they not stay in touch. The only thing certain about his life at that point was that it would surely tear him and John apart.

When he meets John again, he’s just faked his death and is ready to leave London.

Summaries say it all. Told from different POVs.

-----

A Thrill Failed To Deliver by J_Baillier @jbaillier

When The Work is replaced with chemotherapy and restaurant dinners with radiation treatment, will a new, devastating normal bring John and Sherlock closer, or drive them apart — as Sherlock seems convinced it will?

Medical realism with angst, hurt/comfort and a developing relationship under very complicated circumstances. Epic J_Baillier!

-----

Vena Cava by SilentAuror @silentauroriamthereal

Sherlock has been shot in the chest; John has been shot in the heart. Though everything is broken, they do their best to heal the wounds that Mary left on them both.

After Sherlock has been shot by Mary, John figures out a lot.

[night-market-if]

Support Small Authors

I got hit with a pretty big E.R bill for my daughter (thanks healthcare) and my computer after only a year, is already on the fritz. All of this before the holidays and, surprise surprise, my husband is going to be laid off for a bit right after Christmas. Most of you have already bought my game and stories but reblogs would be wonderful.

Welcome to the Night Market. Book 1 in a series. The Night Market is an interactive fiction novel in which you awaken to a lantern filled world with no memory of how you got there. Desperate to get home, you must find the gate that leads back to your world, while navigating a foreign land, rife with political intrigue, arbitrary rules and secrets designed to keep you distracted. Nine barons rule the market , a place so vast that not even they can truly know its scope. But, one baron holds the key to your safe return home. Yet, no one has seen or heard from them in over a decade.

Book 1 Steam

Book 1 Itch.io

The companion piece to the Night Market with dozens of stories and works of art, all relating to book 1. Find out what each of the RO's was thinking and doing when MC was not around and dive further into the world of the Night Market itself.

Buy on itch.io

Welcome to a Night Market Kristus story. My holiday story for this year. A fully interactive story featuring MC, the RO's, and some new characters that have been introduced in the WIP of book 2. Enjoy this fun romp through a holiday horror show and have a few soft moments with your chosen romance.

Buy on itch.io

Join my Patreon. Here you will receive monthly lore posts. Short stories each month. Decision making on polls. The occasional development blog. And early access to any of the chapters that are coming out for book 2. Join a high enough tier and I will even write a short story or a lore post for you.

Join here

[quiet-night-sky-writers-blog]

The bodyguard

Chapter 1

... about initial urges, which don't always turn out to be right.

Pairing: Marc Spector x fem!Reader

Rating: 18+

Word count: 2,6k

Summary (for the entire work): imagine you are the only daughter of a really rich man. To your father, there's nothing more important than you, so he decides to keep you safe in a way that you find excessive and unnecessary at first. You change your mind quickly, though.

AU, in which Marc got a timely chance to leave his mercenary job.

Warnings (for the entire work): description of sex scenes, superficial mention of injuries, swearing, mention of alcohol consumption. Author chooses not to state the warnings in more detail so as not to reveal the plot of the story in advance. But please be mindful of age restrictions.

*Y/N - your name, Y/L/N - your last name

Another shot of whiskey was not a really good idea. Marc was well aware of that when he gave the bartender a sign to repeat. He was well aware of what a hangover awaited him tomorrow. Still, he drained the glass in one gulp - and yet felt disgustingly sober. He wanted - no, he needed to forget the last two days and this damned case. He needed his head to shut off, at least for a while, but the alcohol was stubbornly refusing to work for its intended purpose, and Marc was already starting to get mad: at the bartender, at himself, at the whole world around him.

Out of his gloomy thoughts he was pulled by an ingratiating voice.

- Good evening, mr. Spector.

At the bar counter, to his left, settled a short man in a gray suit; he looked too groomed and tidy for this kind of establishment. Marc eyed him up and down, and then turned away again.

- Do we know each other? - he strained through his teeth.

- You don't know me, but I know a lot about you. I speak on behalf of my employer, who greatly values your expertise and talents, and is interested in you utilizing them while working for him, - his speech was soft but insistent, carefully rehearsed. It was obvious that the suit was a professional.

- Indeed? - Marc replied dryly, - and who is your employer?

- I'm afraid I cannot tell you his name now. You will meet him if you agree to accept his offer.

- And what exactly does his offer include? - Marc barely kept his remaining composure. The suit pissed him off so much that he wanted to smash the empty glass on the counter in front of him against his balding, egg-shaped head.

- My employer wants you to provide for his personal security. You may not worry about the pay - I assure you it will be more than generous.

- Not interested, - Marc snapped. The suit gave a feigned sigh of sadness, then pulled a pen and a white card from his pocket. Carefully scribbling something on its back, he pushed the card toward Marc and stood up from his chair.

- This is my business card. Please contact me if you change your mind. I've indicated on it the amount my employer is willing to offer you. And just to clarify, this is the monthly fee for your services. Have a good day.

Marc didn't touch the card and didn't even dignify his interlocutor with a sight as he left. Probably, he decided, he should go, too. On his way home he was going to buy a bottle of something cheaper and stronger at the nearest store and finally get properly drunk. Rising to his feet, he glanced again at the white piece of cardboard lying lonely on the bar counter, and curiosity took over after all.

- Fuck me... - he muttered to himself.

What did that moron say? This is how much Marc would get in a month..?

That's how Marc started working for your father.

He never found out how these people got to him, but it wasn't surprising: power at that level, and most importantly, money, gives almost unlimited access to any information.

Frankly, Marс was glad that he hadn't made a complete fool of himself and had accepted the offer. He finally got rid of the scumbag Bushman and all the crap they'd been doing. His job as a bodyguard allowed him to keep his hands almost clean, both figuratively and literally: he rarely had to use his fists, much less weapons, and even in such situations it was enough just to scare, but not to put it into action. And most often his job was simply to stand by with a stern look and monitor the occasion.

It had been just over a year since Marc had got this job when you came home.

After graduation, you could have got your own place, of course you were able to afford it, but your father insisted that you live in the family mansion, at least for a while, and you agreed. You loved your father, and, admittedly, you missed him very much - for during your years of study you had seen him only a few times. He had his quirks, but you two never had any serious disagreements. And, after all, he was the only family you had.

Since your father directed to have Marc around all the time, he was allotted a spacious room in the west wing of your mansion. Mr. Y/L/N never treated his bodyguard as a servant, and besides, they got along well - your father had also been in the military a long time ago, and it had brought them closer together. Marc was allowed to move freely around the house, to use the impressive library, the swimming pool (which he avoided because he hated any body of water and preferred not to get into it unless necessary), obviously the gym (which he visited with enjoyment). And, of course, the kitchen, which was the only one in the house. It was exactly where he saw you for the first time.

After the time zone change, you had a terrible night's sleep on your first night back home. Awakening at about 6 a.m., you tossed and turned all over in bed, but couldn't go back to sleep again. Resigned and sighed irritably, you climbed out from under the covers, slipped your bare feet into your fluffy slippers, and, yawning, headed for the kitchen in search of caffeine.

Marc always woke up at the crack of dawn - an old army habit. He knew no one would have got in his way at that time: mr. Y/L/N was still asleep, and the maid, cook and gardener's workday started much later. Yesterday he had heard bits and pieces that miss Y/L/N had come home, but had not yet had the pleasure of being introduced to you in person. And as he entered the kitchen this morning to have breakfast, he stood frozen in the doorway.

You rummaged through the top shelves of the cupboards looking for coffee beans. So far you'd only found a packet of your favourite almond biscuits, which you planned to do later, when you'd finally managed to brew some coffee. You stuck out the tip of your tongue and stood on your toes, trying to reach the cherished can. You didn't realise that at that moment there was a man standing behind your back, and your silk nightgown lifted slightly from your efforts, exposing, even just a little bit, the lower part of your butt to his gaze.

Finally coming to his senses, Marc coughed quietly, signalling his presence. You shuddered and turned round, holding your precious find - a golden-black tin filled with aromatic beans - to your chest. Marc realised that he was now staring at you in the most unconscionable way, but he couldn't find the strength to stop. Besides, he noted, you were staring back at him almost exactly the same way.

With a hoarse mumble of “excuse me” he disappeared out the door, leaving you, with your cheeks flaming in embarrassment, alone.

Hastily striding toward the west wing, Marc unsuccessfully struggled with the irritation and horniness that combined in a rather nasty way. How the hell is he supposed to work here if you're going to be carelessly strolling around, flashing your obscenely pretty arse left and right? No, seriously, he'd never seen such a perfect, such a...

- Fuuuck... - with a hint of despair, he moaned quietly, feeling his boner grow even harder. It had started out so well... Now he could only hope that you'd be busy with your own stuff, he'd be driving around to meetings and business trips with your father, and your crossing of paths would be kept to a minimum. Hope, and try not to imagine him kneeling behind you, covering your sweet butt with kisses and delightfully licking out your juicy pussy.

After lunch, mr. Y/L/N invited you and Marc into his cabinet. This time you had a sensible amount of clothes on, but that didn't hinder Marc's brain from relentlessly, over and over again, replaying in his mind the marvellous picture presented to his sight that morning. He was standing at attention with his hands behind his back at a respectful distance from you, comfortably nestled in one of the big armchairs. You furtively glanced at him, mistakenly assuming he didn't notice it, while your father talked on the phone. Studying Marc, you wondered how someone could be so sexy. No, seriously, dude just stood there, staring straight ahead with a frown, and you were ready to melt and spread yourself into a puddle at his feet, if it were physically possible.

Finished conversing, your father finally turned his attention to the two of you.

- Marc, I suppose you've already met my daughter, Y/N.

You looked over at each other.

- Actually, not officially, - you smiled. Mr. Y/L/N nodded.

- Y/N is my only child, she is the most precious thing I have, I live for her, - you felt tears welling up in your eyes, - Marс, I am extremely pleased with your service, and moreover, I trust you completely. So I've made a decision: now, that Y/N is back, you will be ensuring her safety, and not mine.

- Dad! - you threw up your hands, - we've already talked about this! I don't need a babysitter!

- Of course you don't, sweetheart, because you're a little too old for a babysitter, - you pouted, not appreciating the joke, - that's why we're talking about a bodyguard.

- But what's that for? No one has ever tried to harm me!

- And I want to keep it that way.

- Well, what about you? - you've been running out of arguments.

- I've already found a worthy replacement for Marc. It's my decision, full stop. And please don't argue.

You sighed irritably and scowled, crossing your arms over your chest.

- Marc, do you have any questions? - you gave him a slanted look. He didn't react to the news at all, didn't move, except that he didn't seem so composed anymore, as if his outward bravado had cracked. Like he was a little - bewildered?

- No, sir, - he reported, quickly pulling himself together again.

- Good, - your father responded contentedly and glanced at you again, - sweetheart, I'm busy today, but I'd like to spend more time with you tomorrow. I'll take you out to lunch, pick a place of your choice.

The next day, while you and your dad were enjoying lunch at a exquisite Italian restaurant, Marc was watching you closely. Of course he needed to realize, who he was going to be dealing with. And he couldn't help but admit that he liked you - really liked you. Sure, you were stunningly beautiful - in fact, you were probably the most beautiful girl he'd ever met. But that wasn't the point.

You were nothing like a typical spoilt rich bimbo. Every your step, every gesture, every look was full of dignity, but at the same time you never seemed arrogant. In addition, you were incredibly intelligent - Marc had realised that, when he listened up you two discussed your father’s work, and caught himself thinking that he had no idea what it was all about. And also you had an amazing quality: wherever you were and whatever you were doing, you seemed to light up the space and the people around you with your presence. It was as if there was a warm, tender sun hiding inside you.

After lunch mr. Y/L/N kissed you on the cheek and headed off to meet another business partner, leaving you and Marc alone on the street outside the restaurant. Your bodyguard, who was standing behind you, coughed softly.

- Where would you like to go now, miss Y/L/N?

You turned round, meeting the gaze of dark-brown, almost black, eyes that seemed to be studying you intently.

- Home, I guess. I have a job interview tomorrow, I want to get a good rest and prepare properly.

Marc nodded mutely, and, stepping around your car, opened the passenger door for you. Before you climbed in, you gave him a grateful smile.

The silence in the cabin was broken only by the quiet grumble of the engine, but this silence was not oppressive. Strangely enough, you were comfortable around this man. You'd met him only yesterday and knew nothing about him at all, but you liked the way you felt around him. He was enveloped in an aura of calmness and reliability. He reminded you of a majestic, monumental rock, with the ocean splashing at its foot; a rock that could withstand any storm and remain unbroken. And though, like that rock, he seemed as sombre, cold, and impregnable, it didn't frighten or repel you.

- Marc, - you called softly.

- Yes? - he echoed, not taking his eyes off the road.

- Please, call me Y/N.

He glanced at you briefly, as if in doubt, and then concentrated on driving again, and after a moment's silence, he uttered:

- Okay, Y/N.

At first, the only feeling you had about the idea of having a bodyguard was annoyance. You highly valued your freedom and privacy, and you weren't enthusiastic about the idea of someone looming around watching you all the time.

However, as you looked at Marс more closely, you decided that you probably wouldn't mind his presence around. The reason for that was not only the feeling of safety he gave you, which wrapped you up like a warm blanket, and not only the way he treated you like a princess, which was the dream of if not any girl, then almost any. The reason for that was also the fact that you'd never met a sexier man, the fact that you'd never been attracted to anyone with such a furious force.

Of course, you held your own as best you could - and usually you succeeded. But there were exceptions to that rule, like any other: the moments when you were alone together. As he drove, you stole glances at his focussed profile: the habitually furrowed brow, the large eagle nose, the strong jawline. You wondered: did his thick black curls feel stiff or soft to the touch? What his lips tasted like?

Within the walls of your home, away from prying eyes, the situation became even more complicated. Your roles seemed to smudge, their borders blurred, and you became essentially just a man and a woman living under the same roof. And no matter how much you wanted the opposite, you tried to avoid him by any means necessary, and when you did cross paths, you called on all your self-control. That self-control, however, was rather tentative: all your emotions were literally written on your face.

You absolutely knew that you would not take any action towards him, because in your “boss-subordinate” relationship he might feel pressurised, if not coerced, and that was certainly not acceptable.

What you didn't know was that your feelings were 200% mutual.

You didn't know how strong was the desire that gripped him when you were near. The desire to lavish you with all the affection and tenderness he was capable of. To worship you. To give you as many orgasms as you could handle. And then fuck you roughly until you were hoarse from screaming. You didn't know you were causing his boner over and over and over again.

And you didn't know that he swore to himself that he would never cross that line with you.

Next >>

Intro

[jariten]

2024 Year roundup! (Part 1)

As usual I won't write up anything for titles already featured in a monthly roundup unless I've read more volumes since then.

じゃあ、あんたが作ってみろよ (Jaa, Anta ga Tsukuttemiro yo), Natsuko Taniguchi

あかり (Akari), Marco Kohinata

A子さんの恋人 (A-ko san no Koibito), Akino Kondoh

平家物語夜異聞 (Heike Monogatari Yoru-kun no Hanashi), Fuyuko Kurosaki

多聞くん今どっち!? (Tamon’s B-Side), Yuki Shiwasu [Trans. Amanda Haley]

三文小説集 (Sanmon Shousetsushuu), Tamaki Segawa

ボールアンドチェイン (Ball and Chain), Minami Q-ta

ひらやすみ (Hirayasumi), Keigo Shinzo [Trans. Jan Mitsuko Cash]

In my quest to find high school romcoms to fill the gap Kieta Hatsukoi left I followed my fascination with fictional idols. Concepts like Uta no Prince-sama and Idolmaster is interesting in how they produce idols and an alternative form of idol otaku culture, but what about fiction that aim to be relatable but also wish fulfillment to those who are deep into stan culture, or its Japanese equivalent: Oshi-culture (Oshi more or less being the Japanese equivalent of a Bias). Tamon's B-side begins when our heroine Utage, who has a near religious love for her bias: the wild and fanservice-y Tamon of F/ace, not only forms a direct and personal relation to him, she not only learns that his private self is a self-hating, gloomy, near suicidal at all times young man who despite his massive popularity believes himself to be nothing more than a mold spore infecting the earth. Utage is determined to make the people's prince gain confidence and stop wanting to leave this mortal coil at any given time. The series manages to capture the fearsome consumerist machine that fans participate in, the elaborate social codex they operate under, but also captures the conflicting nature of romantic fantasies involving your bias. Because in oshi culture your oshi belongs to no one but the fans as a collective. And whats a religious zealot to do when her deity gets attached to her. All while being a really fun comedy that plays on exaggerated slapstick and emotional extremes. Really hoping the anime adaption brings some fun music to go along with the series bc the official stan twitter accounts are already so fun.

I need to paraphrase a short review I saw for Sanmon Shousetsushuu: "I thought the lady novelist was pretty nasty but the guy is a piece of work himself". Imagine watching your father die a really horrible death, but the way he died is so ridiculous your trauma is never taken seriously. Our protagonist has been a laughing stock his whole life because of his failed comedian father whose life ends with a failed stunt in an aquarium shark tank. But one night he hooks up with a woman who rather than laugh at his story cries. She disappears in the night and years later he finds out she has made a whole career off of his life story. This begins a twisted love/hate affair between the eccentric novelist and a "wild dog". Love nasty adult romances where neither party needs each other for anything but still can't leave each other alone I think there's something beautiful in that. The included one-shot while a bit saccharine with its conclusion I also found pretty satisfying in its portrayal of twisted attachments.

And want to report that Ball and Chain (first chapter has been scanlated!!) as well as Hirayasumi are not losing steam after the great first volumes for each series. Can't wait to read more in 2025!!