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#tw: sex work
m-ayo-o · 6 months
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seeingdouble ɘldυobϱniɘɘƨ
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KINKTOBER IV: DRUGGED starring: f!reader, megumi [25+], toji [mid 40s] synopsis: megumi is led down a dark path by his assassin father. his moral compass askew, lacking any real social experience, he's left to his own devices with a cute girl. thankfully, toji shows up in time to take control. warnings: murder, violence, spiking, drug use: narcotics + psychedelics. stripper!reader [who sometimes offers sex work]. virgin!megumi. restraints. choking. unprotected sex. incest [pussy sharing, dp, anal] guidance. non-con; reader starts to enjoy it [she is drugged] wc: 4.5k
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⋆⁺/ don't like it? block it / do not interact i do not condone taking drugs. spiking is illegal. this is fiction
18+ EXPLICIT SEX | DARK CONTENT | HORROR THEMES
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When Toji’s wife passed he managed to sell off his daughter to the notorious Zenin clan for a pretty penny, but decided to keep the ten shadows boy for himself. 
Without his wife, daughter and clan, Toji’s life spiralled out of control and he took Megumi down with him. 
Toji left everything behind, so did Megumi.
Toji became invisible, so did Megumi. 
He corrupted him and dragged him into a cursed life of killing for money. 
Leaving his boy in cheap, dusty hotels, Toji would go out to commit murder– it was as simple as grocery shopping for him, only returning home with his shirt all bloody and ripped. Young Megumi would eye his clothing curiously, his gaze wide and innocent, but would be too scared to utter a word. He knows his father has a terrible temper.
This routine continued until Megumi got older, into his late teens, when Toji thought it would be appropriate to start telling the young man about what he did. Then in his early twenties he started taking him along on his sinister missions, hunting. Lacking any formal education or training, he doubted his son would be of any use. 
But Megumi had become intelligent and strong in his solitude, reading for entertainment and experimenting with his powers, his shikigami the only life forms to keep him company.
Despite his independence, having Toji as his only guiding light led the younger man to have a somewhat twisted view on reality, and as far as sound moral judgement goes, he simply does not possess it. 
As an assassin, Toji likes a quick kill; clean and efficient, usually with a gun or a knife. He can get paid faster that way, delivering the body swiftly and avoiding any trouble.
But he’s noticed his son taking a liking to finishing his victims more personally.
⁺⋆
Another murderous evening had drawn to a close, their hands stained red once again, when he carelessly took his eyes off his son and their victim.  
A young, powerful sorceress who’d seemingly pissed off the wrong crowd. Still, a surprisingly easy target for the assassin in training.
“Megumi, s’time to go,” the older man wipes his knife and cautiously looks along the alleyway.
His son is unresponsive. 
Toji gets closer, squinting in the dark to find his hands wrapped around her neck. 
She’s still alive, barely, but clinging on nonetheless, fading in and out of consciousness. 
“What are you doing? Just– just fucking–” 
“Wait”
The younger man’s stern voice halts Toji from slitting her throat.
And he watches his son squeeze the life out of the young woman. 
His lips twitch when her eyes roll back. But still, his hand remains over her windpipe, feeling her pulse die when the last breaths escape her body. 
“Megumi. We need to go.”
His son finally pulls away, and they become invisible once more. 
Despite his grisly methods, not only did Megumi prove useful, but their missions also provided for some much needed father-son bonding time. 
So, with his son reaching 25 years old, they got into this gruesome habit together, becoming partners.
Another habit Megumi picked up from the older man was his tendency to visit strip clubs after their kill. They were great places to hide, especially if you knew the owners well enough. And Toji knew each and every member of staff in this place; the managers, the bar staff, the girls.
And he knew a certain pretty little girl very well indeed.
Despite his many visits he never made any inappropriate advances, only paid to watch you dance. Maybe a lap dance every now and again if he was feeling particularly self gratuitous.
You share few words, but seem to have a mutual understanding of one another. You know that he loves watching you, and you’ve come to like his stern demeanour and surprisingly respectful attitude, enjoying his ability to scare off creepy customers. He’s kind of like your personal bodyguard at work. You feel lucky to have met him.
Unlike some of the halfwit scumbags that frequent the club, he’s a real man. From his assertive, deep tones, those muscles, perfect for manhandling little girls like you, and those sharp eyes, staring as if he wants your body as much as you want his.
But you have no idea what he does for work– he almost seems nocturnal.
Then you notice that he starts bringing someone else to the club.
His younger brother? His son? You can’t tell. But you know for certain that they’re related as soon as they step in together– their hair is styled differently, but is the same absolute black. The strobe lighting illuminates different colours in the younger man’s eyes, but they have the same glare. Their faces are a slightly different shape, but they have the same wicked smile. 
How could there be two of him? One was already enough.
“Meet my son.” 
Oh. He might be the same age as me. You think, studying his features– bags under his eyes, more height than muscle, cheeks slightly sunken. 
His exchanges are awkward. He looks uncomfortable.
You offer him a dance, not knowing what else to do. You’re here to work, after all.
Toji pays for a private dance and you walk with his son to a booth, the older man giving him a wink and a devilish smile.
You draw the curtains and pause, looking at the way he’s fidgeting. 
“Got a girlfriend?”
“No,” he replies tersely, narrowing his eyes. 
You ask if he wants a lap dance, but he’s so hesitant that you just end up sitting next to him and chatting instead.
“So, do you enjoy working here?” he sounds less nervous now he’s gotten to know your name, at least. 
“Yeah, nice customers for the most part, but the hours are pretty long.”
“Same with my job– the hours, I mean.”
“You don’t work with the public?”
“Sort of…” he trails off, dark eyes darting over your features.
You notice, despite your clothing revealing most of your body to him, that he’s focusing on your lips more than anything.
“You’re um,” he takes a long pause, dragging his gaze back to your eyes, “very pretty.”
How sweet. Your eyes widen slightly, a smile forming on your lips. You’re not used to sweet. 
“Th-thank you.” you can’t help the stuttering– the way he’s looking at you with sudden intensity catches your tongue.
“Shall we–” you reach to open the curtain of the private booth, your arm caught in his strong grip, your body freezing. 
“You– you can’t touch me–” does he not know that?
“Sorry” he retracts his hand, fiddling with his fingers. 
“You change your mind or something?”
“No, I just wanted to… look at you, for a little longer,” you turn to face him again, “if that’s ok.”
So you nod and sit down.
He has a hungry look in his eyes now– he starts with your face, your eyes, in fact, making incredible, unwavering contact until you can’t take it, your pupils darting away to his amusement. Then he finds your mouth, and the way you’re chewing the inside of your cheek.
Then your neck, where he focuses intently on the slow thrum of your jugular. He licks his lips, making you squirm and wish he would’ve accepted the lap dance.
His gaze darts over the rest of your body and you watch the clock tick over to midnight, signalling fifteen minutes and the end of his private… whatever the fuck this was.
“Time’s up.” You stand and reach for the curtain, feeling his eyes remain over your figure as you step out and waltz back to the changing rooms. 
You get off early tonight, having a final smoke with your colleagues when you see a text pop through from Toji. After exchanging numbers months ago, he barely contacts you, only asking where you are if you’re not at your regular shift.
[00:14] Toji 
Come over?
You’re surprised he’s asking. 
You’re tempted– after all, it is for Toji. You’ve been wanting him to reach out to you, thinking that he would’ve made his move much sooner. Every cell in your body is telling you not to do this, but you ignore the feeling, finding his hotel.
You enter the room– luckily for you, in a slightly nicer establishment than usual– still, one that is filled with the smell of alcohol and cannabis, the TV blaring on some late night gambling channel.
So they sit you down, welcoming you into their little games and bets, offering you hard liquor and joints till you’re tipsy. 
After Toji’s multiple visits to your workplace, and seeing you at other clubs with your friends, he knows you’re into all kinds of drugs. 
He caught you with white powder under your nose on one occasion, your pupils the size of the fucking moon another night, and with a blunt hanging out your mouth after work one evening.
He’s seen it all. He knows you’re a fiend. So… what’s the harm in pushing you a little further? Surely you can take it.
⁺⋆
Your eyelids are growing heavy, your body slumped on the floor against the coffee table while you stare at the TV in stupor. Their joints were just so packed it's nearly finished you off, and the last few drags tasted kinda funny.
“Can we tie her up now?” 
You’re not sure if you heard that right, swivelling in the direction of the voice and blinking in disbelief.
You turn to find Toji with his legs spread wide, slouched back on the sofa where you left him, while the younger man stands holding some kind of cord in his hands. 
Your eyes widen, your mind jolting awake when you see the way he pulls and grips it, stepping closer to you. Your body lags. 
“Mm” Toji grunts, not taking his eyes off the TV. 
Megumi takes this as permission to pull you up and drag you to the bedroom, your legs stumbling after your body, your mind succumbing to panic. 
His hand tugs at your wrist, while you’re distracted by something strange in the edges of your vision. It’s subtle to start with, colours fading in where they weren’t before, shadows starting to move. 
You try to ignore it, blaming the weed and flickering lights playing tricks on your mind.
You’re pulled from your daze when Megumi jerks your arms roughly, your vision readjusting to find yourself on the bed, your wrists forced to the frame in a tight knot of coarse, black rope.
“Mm– Megumi,” your voice comes out more slurred than you expected, confusion crossing your features, “w-what’re you doin’...”
“What does it look like?” He shoots back, his sharp tone making you recoil.
“I, I don’ know– jus’, w-where’s Toji?”
He watches your eyes dart about, enjoying your fearful expression.
You notice a sinister glint behind his indigo irises, his face looming closer and starting to cloud your vision.
You’re squirming now, pushing yourself up the bed, trying to distance yourself from him. But he keeps coming.
“Stay still…” he stops your motions with a single cool hand closing around your ankle, dark eyes trained on your throat again.
Time stops still when he leans in and places a single, chaste kiss over your neck.
He does it slowly. Gently. As if you’re the only one he’d kiss like this. His silent intensity makes you tremble.
He pulls away with a pleased hum, the feeling of your heartbeat making his lips tingle, his dark mess of hair illuminated with a dull halo.
He’s not too far gone. You could still go back.
“Y-you don’ have to do this,” you stumble, your voice cracking.
“I know,” he presses another kiss over your jaw, becoming ravenous now he can almost smell your fear, “but I want to…”
His voice disappears into the crook of your neck, where he starts sucking and tonguing.
He wants to taste you.
There’s a deep ache inside you now, gripping at your heart and filling your lungs, where it spreads to your throat– to where you can feel his mouth over you.
Nobody has ever kissed you like this before.
The way he sucks and bites is cruel, your body starting to flood with pain. If he does it any harder you’re sure he’s going to taste your blood. He’s going to puncture your neck and let it spill.
“M-megumi– please–” your whispered sobs only urge him on, till he’s dragging his canines over you and sinking them into the soft flesh.
His impassioned movements finally ebb as he switches to tending your marked skin with his tongue and lips, inhaling your scent deeply.
He sits up now, looking longingly into your tear stained eyes, his pupils drifting to where your lips are quivering with his name.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he lies, stroking your ankles gently.
Standing up, he watches you shake your head again, begging him not to go any further and that you’d anticipated being with Toji tonight, asking where he is again.
“He’s a little busy…” he cranes his neck to ensure his father is still transfixed by the TV.
“Plus, you should be grateful,” he tugs off his belt, “you get to take my virginity.”
Your eyes fly wide, your mouth dry and gulping for air stupidly.
Just the way he looks puts you on edge– and now you know he has no experience, you can’t begin to fathom what he’s going to do to you.
“Nn-no– thought, thought Toji w-w–”
His next movements are too swift for your idle, drug induced brain to comprehend.
He’s over you, your arms twisted uncomfortably above your head, his cock nudging at the sweet bud of your clit.
That’s the only ‘foreplay’ you’ll be treated to before he slots himself up against your tight, unprepped entrance, shoving your dress and panties aside.
“Toji!!!” you cry out for the older man, “Toji, god–” but your voice is interrupted, choked by his cock sinking into you, hard and deep.
The man before you has changed, his resting scowl paling in comparison to the now fierce arch of his eyebrows.
Why are you crying for his father when he has everything you need right here?
“Ah– haah—” you shake and squirm, struggling with his untamed, crude thrusting.
Your head flies back when he pushes deeper still, slowly working your raw pussy open to the shape of him, while he watches fresh tears trickling over your waterline and gathering beautifully in the corners of your wide, glassy eyes.
“Hm,” he lets a little laugh escape, enjoying your quiet sobbing and whimpering as he gets rougher and dirtier, grabbing and marking your skin.
Your arms start to jostle and tug in the bindings, your wrists aching from the pressure.
“Untie me…” you sniffle.
“Untie you? But I haven’t even got started yet…”
He wipes the tears from your cheeks with his thumb, trailing his hand down your face and stroking the marks on your neck.
“Might untie you after I hear you scream,” he gives you an experimental squeeze, then leans closer, bringing his face down next to yours.
The way he’s talking has you wondering if he really is a virgin, your thought quickly dispelled by his hedonistic thrusting.
You can hear his shaky breath in your ear now, your legs lifting instinctively when you feel him haphazardly pressing on your g-spot.
“Yeah, open up f’me,” he whispers, sucking on your earlobe, his free arm encircling your head to cage you in closer.
You can feel his hips start to jolt unevenly. He’s close.
“D-don– don’ cum inside,” you beg, your eyes getting bleary as he constricts your windpipe.
You feel him smirking over your skin, speeding up his ragged motions, squeezing.
Your pained breaths consume him, urging him to crush your throat with a look in his eyes that makes you believe he’s going to take your life.
His pale, beautiful face hovers above yours, eyes enrapt by every miniscule expression of terror that passes your features.
“S-s—” 
Your voice is gone, you can only fight for breath now, your body succumbing to a helpless fit.
You struggle. Kicking. Hips bucking.
He drinks it all in, thrusting mercilessly now.
“You can’t do that to her.” 
You hear a sudden deep, booming voice, hands pulled from your neck, air flooding your lungs as you sputter and cough.
Toji takes his son’s arms and bends them behind his back, restraining him instantly and pulling him off you; out of you.
He lets the sight sink in for a moment, words failing him. 
Toji’s affected by the drugs and booze, but he can still get some kind of hold on this fucked up situation.
“Look. Just let me show you… what you’re supposed to do,” he drawls into the younger man’s ear before releasing him.
Sure, he needs to take responsibility. But he can’t let you go. Not yet.
You shake your head again, watching the younger man struggling with his achy, hard boner after being denied his first raw dogging orgasm.
His father readjusts you on the bed to his own liking, leaving you tied up and taking your thighs in his beefy hands. He dips his head low, lips skimming over your neglected clit. 
“‘M feelin’ hungry…” he mutters, proceeding to swirl his tongue through your heat, where his son’s cock was digging moments ago, humming while parting your labia and licking sensually at your little jewel.
However done you are with this situation, overcome with lightheadedness from your choking, you’re glad to at least be sent reeling through a few much needed orgasms.
And now you’ve had a chance to breathe and relax a little, you’re becoming aware of a shift in your consciousness. 
Your body is right here, in this moment, experiencing every fleeting detail in high definition. But your mind is somewhere else, overcome with a feeling of simultaneous presence and dissociation. 
The older man sits up, patting the bed for his son to join him.
“You ok, doll?”
He watches you look around curiously, taking in the room that’s now bending and changing before you.
“Think the lsd’s kickin’ in…” he mutters, “just lay back, promise we’re not gunna hurt ya.”
“The-the what?” you stutter, your hands starting to tense and grip in the restraints.
“Look, there were a few drops of acid in that last wrap, jus’ relax, ok?”
Fuck. You knew you shouldn’t have come here.
You let it sink in, taking a deep breath so you don’t lose your cool. You cannot let your mind spiral on this drug.
“That’s it,” he encourages you, “good girl. Jus’ let go.”
You give up trying to fight it, obeying his gentle tones, working past the nausea to find your mind and body entering a different headspace.
Reality fades in and out, feeling their tongues on you, one after the other, switching and exchanging till you’re unaware of what’s happening to you.
You can only sense their touch, submitting your body to the chemical pleasure.
Your clothes are torn off now, soft, deep words being exchanged until you feel them shifting around.
You feel the unmistakable nudging of a hardened cock at your entrance once more. Only this time, it slips through your folds easily, your slick hole welcoming the long, hard member.
You blink slowly, your vision wobbling as your mind enters a trance in sync with their rhythm.
“Megumi?” no, “Toji?” you honestly can’t tell, your faculties slowly dulling as the powerful drug takes over.
You reach out your arms hoping to discern who’s inside you, only for their body to move away as another frame enters your view.
You feel his cock sink in, hips rolling and stimulating your senses till you’re creaming and moaning around his girth.
“T-tojii–” you’re sure it must be the older man. He feels strong, manhandling you and pushing you wider.
But he pulls away too soon.
You focus hard, seeing both of them now, one figure in front of the other, one man guiding, the other following.
“...like this… take her… deep…” you can only make out a few words, wide eyes distracted by the scar on his lips.
But the way Megumi’s cock slides in is completely different than before– the feral jackhammering transformed into long drags, smooth and hard.
They exchange words, Megumi’s movements getting greedier until you feel his body consuming yours in a display of lust and passion so strong you let out a scream of his name.
The sound of your voice, combined with the grip of your pussy that’s drenched with the slick of a fresh orgasm, rips a groan from his depths.
You hear him panting and moaning, his thrusts getting sloppy, until he’s drawn out of you again.
That was close. You think, realising his father pulled him away before he could spill inside you.
Things are getting blurry now. They’re both over you, on you, in you.
With the surreal visuals taking over, your mind enters another realm while they kiss and fuck and share your body.
Spiky black hair, blue and green eyes flashing, hard muscles and sadistic smiles are all you can see.
Their images burn into your retina, becoming a blurred mirage of nightmarish beauty. 
A sight that you will never forget.
Now that Toji’s brought his son up to speed and you’re all wet, you honestly can’t tell who is who.
So you sink into it, enjoying the spiralling visions behind your closed eyelids while they draw waves of orgasmic pleasure from your body.
They bend and move you, pinning your legs back, pushing deeper, then onto your knees. You’re getting so absorbed in the trip now, the euphoric energy taking over, that you’re only partly aware that you’re being lifted.
You’re off the bed, you know that much.
You’re in a pair of strong arms. It’s Toji. You smile, your eyes clearing to see his roguishly handsome face before you.
“Hey pretty girl,” he places tender kisses over your lips, and you accept them with pleasure, “gunna try somethin’ fun now…”
You giggle, liking the sound of that very much.
He holds you, his massive cock melting into your core so deep he’s going to become a part of you, then slides his fingers over your ass.
You feel another body behind you. Megumi.
You turn, feeling his lips over you as well, murmuring sweet praise in your ear the whole while.
You feel him sliding over your ass now, through the wet juice of your pussy, pushing into the tight ring.
“Oh, oh my– fuck–” he edges in, his father thrusting slowly while urging him to be gentle.
“Haahhh–” you breathe out, your head falling back onto Megumi’s hard shoulder where he caresses your skin with his lips.
“That’s– that’s fucking good,” he hums in your ear, pushing himself all the way back while grabbing your ass.
They cradle you, thrusting in tandem, as you reach a new level of bliss.
Hearing them, feeling them takes you higher, until you can only sense their deep moans vibrating through you, the drag of their cocks.
Your thoughts turn slippery, losing focus on the world around you, wondering how you ended up here in the first place, realising that you don’t care.
Right now, you care about the man in front of you, tall and broad, scarred lip between his teeth with dark green eyes fixed on yours.
His ever sombre stare resides behind those fiery irises.
It captivates you.
Your body is convulsing with dopamine once more, slurred thank yous leaving your lips, and all you can concentrate on is counting the shades of green in his eyes.
Flecks of amber shimmer within the emerald, his lashes blinking slowly, eyebrows quirking.
“Watcha lookin’ at?”
“Mm, pretty,” is all you can muster at this time, earning a snort of laughter.
He mutters under his breath and starts taking you harder till you feel him pulling you off his son and pushing you down on the bed.
Your legs spread, wide and obedient, holding yourself by the knees while he takes your nipples between his lips, between his teeth.
“How many times s’that now?” he feels you clenching and bucking again.
You just giggle and sigh, stroking his obsidian strands in a dreamy state.
He hums with pleasure; you feel his nose dipping into your neck, where he places soft, gentle kisses, in contrast to his now animalistic pace.
Letting off hot grunts and moans, he finally spills his hot, wet cum.
He pulls away, his son entering your vision once more.
Angling your ass up, he guides himself in again, enjoying the way your tight muscle spasms around him, but takes him all nonetheless.
His hips get nasty, drawing whimpers from you until he nears his release, growling and sinking his teeth into your marked skin.
“Fuck– fuck–” you tug at his jet black spikes, encouraging him to take all he needs until you feel his hot load shoot deep into you.
“Ugh, oh princess– fuck me–” he sighs, strong muscles overcome with exhaustion as he watches your beautiful features relax once more.
You feel peaceful, watching the gentle rise and fall of his chest, the way his hair hangs over those dark eyes.
Your wavering vision absorbs his graceful figure in all his glory, your mouth opening before your brain catches up.
“Art” you poke at his hardened stomach, earning a slight smile, “artist.” You look up at his father now, appreciating the view as he stands before you.
You giggle, laying back and focusing on the ebb and flow of your breath, feeling your senses leave you, your eyes resting as you enter transcendental sleep.
⁺⋆
You wake to find your body bare, but clean.
There’s no longer white liquid oozing from you– just soft, warm sheets and the fresh smell of soap.
You climb out of the bed, stepping to the bathroom, eyes still half lidded and hazy.
You look in the mirror, finding kaleidoscopic visuals in the reflection, where the glass bends and trembles.
But you can see your face. Unscathed. Unharmed. You look down. It’s just a few bruises. You’re fine. 
Despite their questionable methods, this has been a good trip… and you have to admit, a very good fuck.
So in your giddy state, you tiptoe out to the main room, watching their heads turn from the TV, grins emerging.
“Mornin’ honey,” Toji coos. It’s dark outside. You have no idea what time it is.
You step over to the sofa, sinking between the two men again, taking their lips and tongues while their hands roam and fondle your body.
You sit back, enjoying how they’re drawn to you magnetically, allowing their pleasure to fill your body once more while you ride out the most ethereal high of your life.
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⋆⁺ [see you in hell]
toji | m.list
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eclecticmiasma · 2 years
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They'll Inherit Your Blood (Pantalone x Reader)
There are fates worse than being purchased by Snezhnaya's wealthiest elite.
Now a multi-chaptered fic!
NSFW
[Warnings: afab reader, degradation, forced prostitution, threatened violence]
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Art credit: @Yeoboさん on Twitter
The man is serpentine in every sense of the word. You hold your breath as his gloved fingers slither across your skin, tracing your features as if appraising a fine piece of pottery rather than a woman. He hums lightly to himself, eyes like upturned crescents as he voices his approval. His aura wraps around you and constricts.
"This one."
Gratitude drips from the madam's voice, saccharine. In less than thirty minutes her establishment has made more mora than any of the women could have hoped to see in their entire lives. Even as they offer you glances of pity, the workers can't hide their elation. Not only have they been spared a life of servitude under the Fatui, under a Harbinger no less, but their meager lives are much improved when the madam is happy. And she's never been happier.
You are escorted without fanfare to a stagecoach at the back of the decrepit building. Various trinkets and personal items you've amassed over the years are left in your second story bedroom. No doubt they will be fought over and doled out within the hour. Your eyes linger on the frosted window you so often hung out of in an attempt to feel anything- even if it was just the frigid breeze on your skin.
When you turn back to the main cabin, the Harbinger there waiting. He waits patiently, door held for you, same unflappable smile plastered to his face.
Reluctantly, you enter, crossing your legs as you sit upon black crushed velvet. To your dismay, the Harbinger squeezes in next to you. Though you try to make your body small, there is no escape. His presence is suffocating.
As the stagecoach starts to move, you keep your eyes glued to the floor. The wooden slats gleam as if they've been polished recently, perhaps for your arrival. Resentment bubbles up. Just what about this man begets that everything is to be a show? So he bought himself a whore, does that too deserve such royal treatment?
In your brooding, you barely notice that the man is touching you. He's leaned close, breath ghosting across your cheek. His fingers twirl a few strands of your hair as he merely looks on, observing.
"You're unaware of your worth," His voice is deep, but lilting. Your brows furrow as you consider his words, vague anger continuing to build. What worth? The worth you have lies in the last man to purchase your time. There's more value in the glittering white jewel atop the Harbinger's cane than there is in you.
You try to mask a shudder as his hands wander, fingers dancing down your chest. Even though you refuse to meet his eyes, you can see them clearly boring down on you. Pupils like slits as they take in their property. As he closes in on your neck, you brace yourself. His fangs are bared, he's ready to strike-
The Harbinger doesn't sink his teeth into your skin, he presses his lips to the pulsating flesh of your jugular and squeezes your clothed breast. You can't help but breathe in his scent, a lightly spiced aroma with a hint of bergamot and something metallic, like the concentrated smell of mora itself.
"There are clients all over the world who will be fighting hand over fist for your to warm their beds," You swallow hard as he continues massaging your chest, kissing his way up your neck and pressing his nose against your ear.
"Clients?" You find yourself asking against your better judgement, though your voice sounds small. You feel the Harbinger grin against your ear. Before he answers you he drags his tongue along the outer shell. Your breathing hitches when his hand slides under your bodice, one of the rings he wears catching your pert nipple.
"Yes, prelest*, do you think I clean out my coffers without the intention of making a profit?" Though the air around you is thick with tension, the Harbinger carries on exploring your body, twirling his tongue in the opening of your ear and nipping every so often at your earlobe, "Though, you'll have to be much more engaged than this if I'm to see a return on my investment."
You're well aware of his subtle nudge to open yourself up, to let him have his way with you and prove yourself valuable, but you can't bring yourself to move. It's too difficult to breathe. Belonging to the Harbinger is a prospect terrifying enough, but to be sold over and over to the men that would deign to partake in his business dealings is more than a single woman can bear.
"I...don't..." You don't realize you're crying until a thumb drags across your cheek. For the first time you turn to look at the man, it's like coming face to face with death itself. His pupils aren't slits, you find, but they're narrowed all the same. Deep indigo irises the color of a darkening sky glow with delight as he soaks in your fear. The corners of his lips are permanently pulled in a genial grin, so much so that you wonder if you aren't peering at a mask. Another thumb joins the first and the pair trace your cheekbones as the Harbinger sighs.
"There's another habit we'll have to break you of, it seems," You try to pull your face away, but he's managed to lock your head between his palms with an iron grip. Fear that should have settled in your bones the moment you met him finally starts to rear its head, "Name a single man that would want to bed such a haughty, sniveling little slut."
He waits, expression ever still. Fresh tears fall as you continue to try to wrestle out of his grasp. You know he expects an answer, but the words die in your throat.
"You left the whorehouse mere minutes ago, have you already forgotten your place?" You shake your head violently, but continue to push and prod in an attempt to get away. The man is deceptively strong. He sighs again, jewels tinkling softly against his glasses as he shakes his head.
"No matter..." He somehow manages to smile wider, baring his teeth in delight, "...training is one of my specialties."
*precious
*all original work is my intellectual property. do not edit or re-upload. please consider reblogging as mature content is often buried by Tumblr!
[KINKTOBER MASTERLIST] [Chapter 2]
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lullabyes22-blog · 9 months
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I'm super curious about Maven. What is her relationship with Silco like? With Sevika? What does she looks like? 👀
I use this as a ref for Maven in FnF💗
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Tw: sex work
Her relationship with Silco is very pragmatic and businesslike. He appreciates her competence; she appreciates his deep pockets. He also tends to pay her in gifts that she can use to keep herself looking flush and pretty (never cash, because that would allow her to establish herself independently and escape his indenture.)
She is at heart terrified of him, and uses both wit and wiles to stay in his good graces. She also counts her days along with her blessings, because his mood can change on a dime and once he tires of you, you are disposable to his cause.
Her relationship with Sevika is likewise wary, given Sevika is Silco's right hand and reports every dealing directly back to him. If circumstances were different, she wouldn't have minded a raunchy fling with Sevika, but as it stands, she's technically her manager - and Maven does her best to stay on her good side.
Bedroomwise - Sevika gets 11/10 for the attentive aftercare. She might be rough but she never breaks her toys, and cleans up the messes afterward.
She wouldn't give Silco a rating because he's her patron, not a lover. The headspace is entirely different. And she'd prefer to keep it that way - that man is not someone she wants near her intimate self in any capacity, however much she admires his progress towards Zaun's cause.
Feeling are best left at the door.
._.b
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amuseoffyre · 2 years
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The more BS I see about the purity culture stuff, the more I facepalm because the first place I read about the things they’re calling Immoral and Bad in literature was in the book I had to read for church.
Technically, the Sunday School leaders didn’t tell us to read more than the limited verses they wanted to focus on but you put a book in my hands at that age? I’m gonna read the whole thing.
Turns out my parents didn’t like it much when I asked what sex work (Judah and Tamar) was and what rape was (Amnon and a different Tamar, who was also his half-sister) and if hammering a tent peg through someone’s head while they slept would kill them (Jael). Also, the list of people/animals you shouldn’t shag was eye-opening. And Lot, who offered his daughters up to a rapey mob, being plied with drink and raped by said daughters was definitely never mentioned in Sunday school. I also got in a lot of trouble for introducing my baby brother to the hilarity that is the romance poetry of Song of Solomon.
But they still insisted I read my Bible every day.
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princesssarisa · 6 months
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Character ask: Violetta (La Traviata)
Favorite thing about them: Her selfless nobility of spirit, her unconditional love, and her character arc as she initially seems like a sparkling, cynical party girl, but then reveals her inner vulnerability and her true capacity for feeling and for goodness. On a meta level, there's also the fact that she's a fully humanized, sympathetic sex worker heroine, whose story shames bourgeois morality for its prejudice against the likes of her.
Least favorite thing about them: That she has to suffer so much.
Three things I have in common with them:
*I'm emotionally sensitive.
*I sometimes feel afraid to love and be loved because I'm afraid of being hurt.
*I like camellias (they're always in bloom at my birthday).
Three things I don’t have in common with them:
*I'm not a sex worker.
*I have family still living.
*I don't have tuberculosis.
Favorite line: The full text of "Ah, fors'é lui... Sempre libera."
brOTP: Her maid Annina, Dr. Grenvil, to an extent Flora Bervoix (though that seems to be a shallower friendship), and by the end, Giorgio Germont.
In crossover-land, I might like her to befriend some other "fallen woman" characters who have things in common with her, like Mimí in La Bohéme, both Fantine and Éponine in Les Misérables, or Satine in Moulin Rouge! (although meeting her would be more-or-less like looking in a mirror).
OTP: For what makes her happy, I'll say Alfredo. But it's hard to fully ship her with him after the money scene, much like in Much Ado About Nothing it's hard to ship Hero and Claudio after the wedding scene. Above all, I ship her with health, self-esteem, and happiness.
nOTP: Giorgio Germont or Baron Douphol.
Random Headcanon: Her backstory is the same as that of her real-life inspiration, Marie Duplessis. She was born to a poor family in Normandy; her mother either died or left when she was a child, and her father was an abusive alcoholic who sold her to "benefactors" as soon as she hit puberty. She travelled to Paris at age fifteen and worked as a seamstress at first, but then her beauty was "discovered" by wealthy men, and at age sixteen she became a courtesan. All of this shaped her into the person we meet in Act I, who doesn't dare to love and thinks a life of shallow pleasures is all that's left for her.
Unpopular Opinion: I don't see her as much older than Alfredo, or as nearing the end of her glory days as a courtesan due to age rather than just her illness. The libretto repeatedly describes her as "young," and Marie Duplessis was only twenty-three when she died and was the same age as Alexandre Dumas fils. Part of the real tragedy of her life was that she became a "fallen woman" before she was really a woman at all – why shouldn't the same be true for Violetta? Of course the role should ideally be sung by a soprano at least thirty, since few younger singers can meet the vocal demands, but the same is true for teenage heroines like Gilda in Rigoletto or Madame Butterfly! It says nothing about the character's age.
Song I associate with them:
"Ah, fors'é lui... Sempre libera"
youtube
"Addio del passato"
youtube
Favorite picture of them:
Maria Callas
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Anna Moffo
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Teresa Stratas
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Aylin Perez
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Nadine Sierra
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Irina Lungu
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Lauren Fagen
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igglemouse · 2 years
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Episode 11 ~ One Of Us
Honestly, I didn't think I'd be able to do it. As Mayumi undressed me and I undressed her it was hard to ignore the giant camera that was staring us down and capturing moments that were supposed to be intimate, private, and personal...
Index - Next
❌❌❌ - More at the link of course!
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spymeister · 11 months
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I appreciate y'all's commentary. I'm well aware of my own attractiveness, but I was makin' a joke since our resident cops are lookin' at having a like Rendezvous in some no-tell motel.
I mean, at least back in the day- I got paid for those rendezvous.
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kissedfist · 1 year
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[cis woman, she/her] Welcome to Aurora Bay, [DILAN OZDEMIR]! I couldn’t help but notice you look an awful lot like [ASLIHAN MALBORA]. You must be the [TWENTY-EIGHT] year old [LOUNGE SINGER AT GOLDEN HOUR LOUNGE]. Word is you’re [RECKLESS] but can also be a bit [EFFERVESCENT] and your favorite song is [ALRIGHTY APHRODITE BY PEACH PIT]. I also heard you’ll be staying in [AURORA BAY DRIVE]. I’m sure you’ll love it!
STATISTICS
NAME: Dilan Azize Ozdemir
AGE: Twenty-Eight
GENDER & PRONOUNS: Cis Woman, She/Her
FACE CLAIM: Aslihan Malbora
EYE COLOR: Brown
HAIR COLOR: Brown
HEIGHT: 5'6"
DATE OF BIRTH: December 13th, 1994
ZODIAC SIGN: Sagittarius
LEVEL OF EDUCATION: High School Equivalency
RELIGIOUS AFFILIATION: None
OCCUPATION: Lounge Singer at Golden Hour Lounge
HOMETOWN: Istanbul, Turkey
IN TOWN: One Week
NEIGHBORHOOD: Aurora Bay Drive
POSITIVE TRAITS: Effervescent & Charming
NEGATIVE TRAITS: Reckless & Impetuous
CHARACTER BIOGRAPHY
Since the moment Dilan could speak, she had the desire to sing every word. Her parents amounted it to the dreams of childhood and brushed it off, but it was something she had never let go. Despite the lavish upbringing and the benefits it had afforded her was pushed aside for everything to better her singing career. Her father despised it, but indulged his youngest daughter knowing that when the time came he could find her a husband and she'd settle down. However, Dilan wanted none of that life, even if it meant giving up everything she knew.
Her father was a force, one that she fought tooth and nail against and no matter how much he pressured her to give up every prospect, she refused to bend. Dilan did appease him and followed in her older sister's footsteps to go to university but she only lasted a year before dropping out. Due to her lack of direction and purpose, her father decided to line up eligible Turkish bachelors for her to meet and hopefully marry. Appeasing her father could only go so far and she finally put her foot down, refusing to move forward with any marriage. However, he refused to accept it and was ready to force her to settle down until she took her things and ran.
With what she had saved up, Dilan got on the first plane out of Turkey and headed to New York, in hopes of actually focusing on her singing career. For someone who grew up with everything she needed, she was able to fall into the starving artist routine easily because she told herself constantly that this life was better than the one of forced marriage her father wanted her to be in.
In New York though, Dilan was one of many trying to find fame with their voice and even with her skills, she was lost among them. In order to make her presence be known, she used what she thought was the only thing worthy about her, a sentiment her father had told her plenty of times: she had a pretty face.  Dilan would use that pretty face in hopes of getting more time on a stage so that someone could discover her. Time and time again she was promised things in return for that velvet throat of hers and each time she was let down.
After so many years of being let down, she had become disillusioned and she grew tired. Dilan had finally had enough and decided to pack up her things and run once more, but this time, it was towards her sister in Aurora Bay. None of her family members know what she's done and that's a secret she'll take to the grave.
WANTED CONNECTIONS
people she knew in NY
hookups
flings
besties in aurora
whatever you want tbh
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wildjuniperjones · 2 years
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Find the Tag Game
Tagged by @dontjudgemeimawriter, thanks! More below the cut!
Stay
A crystalline sound slowly fills the room until he slides his hand over the feystone. “Sorry I woke you. Is it all right if we talk until I get closer to home?” Her voice fills his head, husky and quiet, and he shivers slightly. “Of course.” His tone is similarly soft and filled with concern. “How was work?” “Same old, same old. Full of rich weirdos and entitled jerks.” “I’m surprised you need help on your way home, it sounds like you’re handling yourself fine when you’re at work,” Leo says, stretching his back until something pops pleasantly. He groans a little at that – it’s rough sleeping on this futon, even when it isn’t in the shape of a couch, but it’s what he’s got. “It’s…different…there. There’s a different dynamic. I’m expected to be like that at work.” This brings him up short. She’s supposed to be that assertive at work? So he risks the question. “What do you do at work?” There’s a long pause, and he has to check the cracked facet to make sure it didn’t glitch out again. He’s just about to say something when she speaks again. “I don’t want to say yet. Is that okay? It’s just– It’s not what I want for myself, in the long run.” Her voice is wavering, and he can practically hear her shaking. He leans forward, resting his forearms on his thighs. “You don’t have to tell me a thing, Sere. But… whenever you’re ready, just know that I’m not going to judge you.” He hears a muffled cry and a brief word he doesn’t recognize. His heart leaps in his throat, afraid for her. “Sere?” She sniffs, and her voice still wavers, sounding thicker and more sultry even through what he guesses are tears. “You make it very hard to stay in character, Ortiz. “I know you’re doing your best, chula.” The endearment slips out before he realizes it. Sleep deprivation. That must be it. “Damn straight. [...]”
Bite
“Shona aamar, it’s all right. This is– it’s new for me, too. I haven’t had a relationship since I moved here, and definitely not since I started working,” her tone is softer now. It wasn’t precisely a lie. She hadn’t had a relationship since moving here, that’s true. She hadn’t had one before that, either, though. Not in the way he’s offering. “I just don’t want to say the wrong thing and– and have you leave again. I can’t read your mind, Sere.” She bites her lip and walks over to stand between his legs, only a bit taller but still commanding his attention. She reaches up to undo his hair, to touch his face– but he grabs her wrists before they can touch his head. “Aah– and here’s where you can’t read mine. My hair is– um– very sensitive. I used to get teased about it when I was younger, so I–” He releases her wrists with a controlled motion, hands trembling with effort. “Just…be gentle?” “Of course.” She continues her motion as he ducks his head slightly to rest his forehead against her sternum, placing both of his shaking hands at her waist. As she undoes the tie holding his hair back, his breathing quickens and he lets out a quickly-suppressed whine. She pauses. “Are you okay?” Leo nods against her quickly, choking out, “Yeah, keep going.”
Trick
“Birdie! How’s it goin’, ya ol’ tart?” Anya calls across the studio, drawing at least two dozen pairs of eyes squarely on them. Sere hangs back for a moment, not wanting to intrude (and dying of vicarious embarrassment), but she receives no reprieve, and Anya continues to drag her forward. The pair at the desk look up, the human standing and looking uncertain as to whether they ought to laugh or scream at the obnoxiously forward elf. “Hey, Annika,” they say once Anya is close enough to the desk to hold a regular human conversation. Not that that has ever stopped them. “Same old, same old. How’s tricks?” “Turned regularly, and at great profit,” Anya quips back, beaming. “In fact, I was hoping you could see your way to getting my friend here into some self-defence classes. Sere, this is Birdie. Birdie, Sere.” Before either of the two introduced can get a word in, Anya’s already on to the next. “Hi! I don’t think we’ve met, I’m Annika, but you can call me Anya, or anytime.” They say coyly, sidling up to the huro. “That’s…an interesting nickname. How’d you come by it?” They say in a deep voice, crossing their arms over their chest and scratching at their beard. Anya leans in, still only up to the huro’s shoulder. “Loudly, and as often as I can\~” “Annika,” both Sere and Birdie groan sternly in unison, look at each other, and burst into laughter. The huro at the centre of this blushes a bit and frowns, looking away from the group.
Last
“You’re cute when you blush like that, chula,” he says dreamily. “What does that mean, anyway? ‘Chula’?” “It means ‘cutie’,” he replies, hands still around her waist as he pulls her close again with a grin. “ ‘Cause you’re cute.” “Leo, you’re drunk. Let’s get you home.” “Aww… Yeah, you’re right.” He sounds sad, but the grin remains as she pulls out her feystone to request an autonyne, turning her body perpendicular to his and leaning against his upright leg. He shifts to accommodate, resting his hand at the small of her back. When she’s done and puts the device away, he looks up at her eagerly. “I guess you paid me back sooner than I’d expected.” Sere huffs, letting him pull her in close again. After all, he’s so warm. “I’m not sure that’s a good thing. This event was supposed to pay next month’s rent, and now I have to hope that I can still get a gig in time.” He murmurs something into her chest that she doesn’t quite catch, and asks him to repeat it. “I said, if it’s a problem, you could always come live with me.” She groans in frustration. “Leo, you’re drunk. We’ve known each other for what? Three months? And we just had what was essentially our first date last night? And your apartment is the equivalent of a closet?” “All true, but that’s not a no\~”
This was fun, thank you! Turns out I use 'last' a lot in my writing. I don't know exactly how this works (and couldn't find the source post), so here goes!
Tagging @askjellybean, @chum-personable, @winterandwords (if you haven't done this one already), and @worldstogetlostin. Your words are same, lost, swing, and give. If you see this, want to participate, and I didn't tag you, consider this an open tag! I want to see what you've got!
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ximenaflores · 2 years
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INTRODUCING → Ximena Guadalupe Flores De Jesus
The Basics 
Name: Ximena Guadalupe Flores de Jesus
Age: 49
Birthday: 5th of May 1973
Zodiac sign: Taurus
Occupation: Currently on a vacation from her job as a Cancun resort bar manager 
Gender: Cisgender female (she/her)
Sexual Orientation: Pansexual
Place of residence: Downtown, Peak Seasons Hotel
Hometown: San Miguel del Puerto, Oaxaca, Mexico
Relationship status: Single
Face claim: Ana de la Reguera
In Summary
tw: mentions of death, illness, illegal immigration, sex work, abandonment
Illegally entering to America as a teenager to work so she could provide for her family in Mexico, Ximena quickly found a housekeeping job in Texas.
She found herself involved in a relationship with an older man who left her nothing but a heartbreak and a pregnancy.
Settling in Louisiana, the young woman gave birth to her daughter Emeline, a secret she kept from her conservative parents.
When the financial toll was too great Ximena resulted into sex work, an illegal business that got her deported once she got caught, resulting in separation from her then four years old daughter.
After spending six months in jail, she was returned to Mexico, having to pay a fine and receiving a fifteen years ban from entering the United States. 
Feeling disconnected from her old reality, Ximena decided to move to Cancun and maintain her hospitality career and have some time away from her family.
Winding up as a bar manager at the resort after gaining experience was a win for her, but she still couldn’t shake away everything that had happened in America, and what she left behind. 
After the ban was lifted, Ximena’s visa’s application was denied and she decided to let it go and try to heal.
The woman was able to get her own place, go out on trips and get into numerous romances with both men and women.
Last year, she discovered a connection was made to Emeline after her nephew did an ancestry test, and it linked them together. Despite her reluctance to dig up a painful subject, Ximena realized she can’t pass on this opportunity and contacted her daughter.
The two decided to meet up in Providence Peak, and after finally getting her tourist visa approved, Ximena set her foot in America, full of anxiety and excitement. 
For full bio, click here.
Wanted Connections
I am pretty open seeing as Ximena is a visitor and currently doesn't see Providence Peak as a permanent residence. That also means she's pretty much down to everything without thinking of the consequences or what anyone will think of her, take from that whatever you need ;)
A few ideas-
Another guest/worker at the hotel- Ximena is staying at Peak Seasons Hotel, and if your character happens to be there often, they're bound to meet. Ximena has a knack for being nice to the staff considering her own life experiences.
A casual hookup- We're all adults here, yeah? Ximena is pretty much down to everything, and she doesn't really look for anything serious as she's not planning to uproot her life and immigrate to the United States.
More than a hookup- Eh, shit happens. Love is tricky and it can catch you in the most unexpected moments.
Acquaintances of Emmy- People who know Emmy are bound to have some sort of opinion on the sticky situation. Whether they're disapproving or supportive, that can be something that's cool to play out.
Friends- Ximena is quite reserved but she loves listening to other people and having conversations. If your character is a talker, they're a match made in heaven.
Anything else!
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thateclecticbitch · 2 years
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Thinking about the various arguments about what is at the core of rape.
The most common one I've heard is "Rape isn't about sex, it's about power." This argument is used by feminists as a way to denounce the patriarchal narrative of rape. Removing the lust aspect of "Well they just couldn't help himself" or "they couldn't have done that because your too ugly," puts the pathology on the perpetrator rather than the victim, which is very important in combating rape-culture and empowering victims.
Others argue that rape is inseparable from sex and attraction. If it's only about the power dynamic, why does the power involve sexual violation? Why not a fist to the face or crass and cruel insults? For rapists, the violence, the resistance, IS what brings rapists sexual gratification. Further, is sex work truely consensual when its done to pay the bills and groceries?
These arguments have truth to them, but fall short of the whole truth
Abuse is the violence caused by an unequal power dynamic. Rape happens to be one of the vehicles for that violence.
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