#...to the point where i think it might qualify as a kink
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Hey love, (patiently) awaiting the next chapter. Was thinking about you and your work today. Found you in some reblogs, was going to ask about an update. Someone else beat me to it. Proceeded to serial-like your posts. Saw a comment on how your writing feels like home, they’re right about that. Hope Europe was grand, hope you’re well. Miss your mind, much love from Texas.
AwwwAWWW thank you -- that makes me ridiculously happy <3
I had a blast traveling. I thought I would be very zen and find lots of parks and cafes to write in and instead I was off my tits on edibles crawling around in the gutters with other (arguably more) disgusting backpackers the whole time.
ANYWAY! I'm back in Perth, moving house, catching up with all the 9-5 horseshit I made a problem for future me before I went on holiday AND I am madly writing mtiab to try to stay sane!
#maybe there is a beast#about me#i also need to catch up on my fave fic by lazybaker#but i am delaying the gratification#...to the point where i think it might qualify as a kink#western australia is the texas of australia
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When having discussions about MY OWN Asexuality these are some graphics and anectdotes that have made it easier for me to explain it to them.
Since I have had so many curious people on my Ace poll, I'm gonna give it a shot and complie it together in a post.
Firstly, the basic deffinition of Asexuality:
As stated in the graphic, libido, or a hormonal urge for sex is not the same thing as an attraction to another person. In basic terms being horny does not equal having a want to have sex with another person.
I'd like to acknowledge that there is more to the Ace spectrum than just flat ace before I make my next point, so here's my favorite graphic.
These are just three of the many sub-identities on the ace spectrum with some basic definitions but they get the point across about differing levels of the lack of sexual attraction.
Because sex can look different to a lot of asexuals. There are plenty of asexuals that despite missing the initial spark of attraction that mighty motivates an allosexual person, don't mind or even enjoy having sex, for the romantic intimacy with a partner or even just for the endorphin release.
But there are many more asexuals that have a more complicated relationship with sex that can intersect with other aspects of their life like their personal relationships (see demi), their past traumas, their romantic orientation, or their sexual kinks.
One of the basic struggles of Asexuality is determining what qualifies as "sexual attraction"
When you rarely or never experience sexual attraction it may be hard to distinguish between different attractions.
Anecdotally, I base my concept of someone being sexually attractive on my Aesthetic and Sensual attraction. I do this for a shorthand to relate to other people in my life who experience sexual attraction. Partly because I find the concept of sex fascinating to discuss and partially because I love collecting my little group of fictional characters that I project my sexuality onto. I choose them based on whether I enjoy looking at them (which trust me, does not adhere to societal beauty standards) and whether I think being physically close to them (sensually) might be pleasant.
I say this because I think it is a common experience for Asexual people. I am honestly astonished that my poll had such an even distribution of answers. It was really just for fun and not a well-thought-out series of answers. Most people noted that multiple of the answers suited them. But the most common comments I got on that poll were that interms of fiction or media of some kind, they were sex positive. But when it came to any reality where they themselves would engage in sex, that was an entirely different answer.
Well, here's my personal reflections on that same concept within myself that others may or may not relate to.
When I was still in the process of figuring out my own Asexuality, I was confused by the concept of having an extremely high libido and a collection of fictional crushes, but no irl attraction.
At the time I was also heavily into dissecting other social tangles such as the way that men view women through their own societal lens of sexuality. And the biggest argument at the time was "If you only find big boob, flawless skin, totally obedient hentai women sexually attractive, then you're probably not actually into women. Because none of the real ones look like that." Which is true.
This made me think about why I found specifically onky fictional people attractive. Which boiled down to a set of ideals that I could never expect a real person to live up to. If the only way I can even consider being sexually attracted to a person is with them following a humanly impossible set of ideals, then I'm probably just not actually attracted to anyone.
And that's fine. It sounded scary at first. But I grew used to it.
When you take the attraction factor out of sex many people will lose interest entirely. Sex can be a really complicated and messy buissness. There's so many factors you have to consider like, location, time, partner, physical discomfort, physical and emotional vulnerability, body fluids, contraception, std testing, and a plethora of other things that can be really overwhealming even if you are really motivated to have sex. If you arent? Many people don't see a point in it.
But some do and having sexual experiences and even enjoying them doesn't make you any less asexual. There are whole kink groups that are ran and populated by asexual people because kinks gives a structure to the otherwise chaotic buisness of sex and makes it more appealing to them. On top of that kinks can be arousing reguardless of your sexual orrientation and may make it easier to engage in sex.
I'd like to add, for my own peace of mind, that asexuality can feel very isolating. Many people want a partner that finds them sexualy appealing. And that's understandable. But try not to think of your sexuality as limiting. Because asexuality can open so many doors in the queer community that you may not have considered yet.
Being Asexual means you don't have attraction to any gender, meaning that you may be open to dating or having a QPR with others regardless of their gender.
Sex repulsed? You certainly may be able to meet the needs of another asexual person especially if they are sex repulsed too. Having the pressure of sex removed from a relationship can be so relieving.
Asexual people also occupy a space outside of the societal norms of what is considered sexually appealing. And may often completely disagree with general society about what they find attractive. There's a lot of ace people I know personally that are with their partners purely for domestic compatibility and not for appearances at all. This may actually lead to stronger relationships. Even though the process of vetting others looks a bit sterile or like a buisness deal, it's more effective in finding somone you genuinly like and agree with. Someone you can spend forever with.
It also opens doors to people of all types of physicalities.
These are really just anecdotes, but I feel there's so much us ace get put down for. I'd like to lift the community up for once.
Final thoughts on the matter (unless I am asked to elaborate) are that Asexuality is a hugely varied expirience. It affects people in many different ways. And it can be really confusing to figure out. But the point of the poll I made was to point out how many ace people there are just in my orbit on Tumblr. We are not alone. There are so many more of us than you might think. Thousands. And I for one am so excited about that.
(I didn't credit the graphics bc i've had them saved for years and honestly fon't remember where they came from.)
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twenty questions for fic writers
tagged by @feralkwe - thank you! I feel like I've done this before but if I have it's been a minute so
1. How many works do you have on AO3? across pseuds I have 1,010 works. with my "current" one I'm at 607. that is more or less my entire oeuvre, though there's a fair number of short fics on tumblr I haven't gotten around to crossposting though I'd ostensibly like to at some point. eventually. maybe.
2. What’s your total AO3 word count? 4,873,723. aYIKES. but hey closing in on 5 million! wonder when I'll hit that. I bet I would if I posted my unfinished wips for the mcu tbh
3. What fandoms do you write for? ever or currently? the list of fandoms I have written at least one fic for (not counting ones where the one fic was a crossover) is [deep breath] the mcu, the untamed/mdzs, supernatural, the silmarillion, a song of ice and fire, black jewels trilogy, wheel of time, doctrine of labyrinths, death note, the caliban leandros series, avatar the last airbender, kinnporsche, doctor who, buffy the vampire slayer/angel, gentleman bastard sequence, marvel comics, harry potter, temeraire, good omens, code geass, realm of the elderlings, greek mythology, dragon age, sandman, dexter, lymond chronicles, the firekeeper saga, lucifer (the tv series), crimson peak, kushiel's legacy, the x men movies, chronicles of narnia, twilight, and a couple other small book fandoms.
i used to be a lot more multifandom than i am now in terms of what i wrote for, and have been writing fic for which is how this happened.
4. What are your top five fics by kudos? Not my favorite fics, for the most part. They are:
Life in Reverse (MCU)
With Absolute Splendor (The Untamed)
some good mistakes (The Untamed)
half a league onward (MCU)
The Villain Wrangler (MCU)
5. Do you respond to comments? I do not. I feel bad about it, but (a) I don't know what to say, (b) I feel unbearably self-conscious/self-important trying and (c) I already have too much I'm trying to do in my limited time/too many obligations I have placed upon myself to add another one that will just stress me out. Again, I have all kinds of guilt about this, though, which probably kind of defeats the (c) purpose of not doing it.
6. What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Almost certainly Mercy, though it's possible I could dig up others; that's the literal murder-suicide one, though, and I'm pretty sure I've only written one of those. I've written a lot where one character dies but another survives and has to live with the grief, which is arguably worse? but I still think Mercy wins. once there was a way to get back home might give it a run for its money, though.
7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? I've actually written a fair amount of fic with happy endings! just mostly they have to suffer to get there. but trying to think of fic with a straight happy ending...I feel like I wrote some fairly fluffy fic in Black Jewels Trilogy fandom that I don't want to link to because I don't think it's very good. Maybe Life in Reverse, honestly? That's a fic where I tied up most things and resolved them in a pretty happy way.
Oh, or actually With Absolute Splendor might qualify.
8. Do you get hate on fics? I have in the past! Not a lot, but it happens every so often. Usually I just delete it, tbh; it doesn't feel worth leaving it there and I'm certainly not going to respond to it.
9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? Sure do, primarily for pairings that are dysfunctional in one way or another, and for the most part I want the sex to say something about the inner life/psychology of the characters I'm writing. truly plotless smut does happen but I find it weirdly difficult. I have to do so much pre-justification work for my smut, at least in my head if not on page.
a lot of what I write at least has a little bit of kink or D/s flavor to it even if it's not explicitly written as such (and a lot of it is at least a little explicitly written as such). I also like to write about power dynamics (in sex) and sex that's sublimating some other emotion or desire, if that latter makes sense.
10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? I used to, but not anymore, and I probably won't; I don't know why, but I'm just generally not a crossover fan these days. But I did write a Lord of the Rings/Cthulhu Mythos Morgoth/Cthulhu fic back in the day. No, I'm not going to link it, you can find it if you really want.
The Scarlet Pimpernel/Black Jewels Trilogy might be objectively weirder but it was because of an RP and therefore feels more reasonable to me.
11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? I had forgotten about it until just now, but yes, actually. Including one that actually got reposted on AO3, which takes a particular kind of guts that's not the same as reposting on Wattpad or the like, imo. (I've also had fic scraped off AO3 and reposted on other sites.) The person took it down when I called them out on it.
12. Have you ever had a fic translated? I have been fortunate enough to have a number of fics translated into a few languages! I was curious which ones so I went and looked, and it looks like I've had fic translated into Russian, Chinese, and Japanese.
13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? I've started co-writing a fic but never finished one.
14. What’s your all-time favorite ship? Might have to give this one to xuexiao, though there's a lot of room in my heart for many ships! that's just one that hit an incredible number of my favorite things squarely on the head several times, leaving me concussed and helpless. It's so much, you guys.
15. What’s a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will? There's a number of my MCU wips that I look at and am like "yeah what I have of this is good actually, too bad I'll almost certainly never finish it", among which is Dead Superheroes Walking, the fic about everyone who died in Infinity War being trapped inside the Soul Stone and having to work together to fix the ensnappening from the inside. I have about 3/4 of it written if not more and the remaining quarter will probably remain unfinished. It was Wanda POV and a lot about Wanda and Loki bonding.
another one is the one where Hela decides instead of fighting Odin to strategically back down and plan to overthrow him later, and therefore is around while Loki and Thor are growing up. I really liked what I had of this one, and really enjoyed writing Hela's POV, but again. don't think I'm going to end up finishing it.
I have a whole folder called "MCU Salvage" that's basically my MCU wips that I parsed out because I was like "these are pretty good actually, maybe someday I'll have the motivation to return to them", which is probably delusional but, well. one never knows.
16. What are your writing strengths? I think I'm pretty good at dialogue - I love to write characters having conversations, probably to a fault - and, when it comes to fanfiction, characterization.
17. What are your writing weaknesses? Worldbuilding for sure is one. I hate it, I don't think I'm very good at it. also description - I feel like I lean heavily on dialogue in fic and tend to go light on descriptive language. this is probably partly because I'm not a very imagery-focused reader, so I don't think a lot about creating a "visual" with my writing, but also because I just don't like doing it as much as I like writing about internal thought processes and interpersonal verbal exchanges.
18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? I almost certainly would not do it, as someone who is monolingual and has zero confidence in my ability to do it right in a way that wouldn't read absolutely awfully. The one exception to this is in Lymond fic, and that's because the canon did it first, so it is fully justifiable for me to have this guy spout off in five languages in one fic. Otherwise...not since I tried writing a fake Phantom of the Opera fic mocking bad Phantom of the Opera fics.
19. First fandom you wrote for? I always say Wheel of Time because that's the first fandom of my heart but technically I wrote a crack Harry Potter fic before I wrote for Wheel of Time. But in my heart it was Wheel of Time. That was certainly my first fandom in any meaningful sense of the word.
20. Favorite fic you’ve ever written? This question is my nemesis. My favorite fic I've ever written changes at least once a month. I have a series for this on AO3 that I'm going to link to as a lazy answer to this question even though that's sort of 50 of my favorite fics, so sue me, I've written a lot of things over the years and I actually do like a fair number of them, even if you have to make me say so.
tagging uhhhh @highladyluck, @curiosity-killed, @ameliarating, @gloriousmonsters, i'm not sure how many people i'm supposed to tag for this but if you want to do it, go ahead?
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Hypnokink Safety Polls, Round One
My first round of poll results were as follows. I will show the results first, then give my breakdown and analysis of what the results mean at the bottom. All of that is under a "Read More" for the sake of brevity.
General Caveats: This is not a scientifically valid or representative polling method. If I were designing a study on this topic this a Tumblr poll is not how I would do it, because of course it isn't. The sample is self-selected, which introduces irresolvable sampling bias, there is a wildly different number of respondents and a different polling sample for each question so each is independent of one another, and there is no way to calibrate the questions against any sort of independent metric or demographic weighting. So, it cannot possibly capture the whole complexity around this and cannot truly be accurate. I will cop to that right at the top of this, so that none of you are under any illusions about it, but I still think that asking questions like this has value in niche communities like ours so it is worth doing and worth breaking down our responses.
That said, lets get on with it.
Analysis: This one is fairly straightforward. Aside from a slight fishhook at "minimal" it is a lightly front-loaded normal curve with a mean value of slightly above "moderate." Doing the math on this by turning "minimal" into 1, "low" into 2, etc all the way up to "very high" as 7, and adding up the weighted percentages then finding where the mean is, the mean value is 4.037, or veeeeeery slightly above "moderately risky." So, the average community perception is that hypnokink is a moderately risky to slightly greater than moderately risky kink activity.
Caveat and Cautionary Statement: This was a question of perception, not truth. That is to say, this is what people perceive to be the case, not what is necessarily true for a given person or what is their experience. 4.5% of (or 19) people perceive hypnokink to be a very high risk activity and 8.1% of (or 34) people perceive it to be a very low risk activity. Those perceptions are each informed by their personal experiences of hypnokink, and are valid insofar as they are themselves concerned. It is not right to discount either of them for deviating from the community "norm," but knowing what the community perceives collectively to be the norm does still have value. That could have been skewed by the specific examples I chose for low, moderate and very high, though, to be fair.
Analysis: It's approximately a coin-toss whether a given respondent has or has not been party to abusive, unsafe or unethical behavior that was seemingly intentional. Specifically, the plurality of respondents have been party to such behavior, but the size of the sample is such that the margin of uncertainty on those percentages would be pretty significant, meaning that I can't say for certain whether that plurality number is genuine or not. Still, that number is pretty darn high. 10% of respondents have been party to such behavior numerous times. FWIW, I think the dip between "few" and "numerous" is probably to do with the fact that I didn't put in a numerical qualifier, and so respondents likely couldn't quantify the difference clearly.
Overally though to me, that says that we have a lot of work still left to do as a community, though I suppose harm already done cannot at this point be erased.
Caveat: It was pointed out to be a couple of times that "party to" may not have been very clear. It was my intention to avoid things like "the victim of" or "subject to" because that sort of language can itself be traumatizing or dehumanizing, but still point in the same general direction, but that lack of clarity might have caused a bias in the poll responses. If so, though, then it probably skewed the responses toward "never" and not "numerous."
Analysis: This question has several moving parts, and each of them is interesting in its own right. I want to look at them all in turn.
First, we have the "not been involved" option, which is the plurality of responses. That is interesting in that it reveals that the hypnokink community is a lot newer to the kink than I thought, and therefore the community is growing at a significant rate. That alters the kinds of things that are useful and necessary to the community as a whole, in my mind. It also recontextualizes the previous question, because if 40% of the community has been involved for less than two years and approximately 50% of the community has not been party to intentionally abusive, unsafe or unethical behavior... then that potentially means that as few as 10% of people who have been involved longer than two years have not been party to those things. Now, that is the absolute statistical floor, and I do not have reason to believe that the true value is that number... but it is still a worrisome figure to even think about.
Next is whether the respondents perceive the norms getting more, less, or staying as stringent. About 30% (28.7%) of respondents said that they saw the norms getting more stringent with time, about 20% (20.8%) said they saw them staying the same, and about 10% (8.9%) said they saw them getting less stringent with time. That only adds up to ~60% because 40% answered that they had been in the community fewer than two years. So, on the whole, the half of the community that has been in the community longer tends to see norms growing more stringent, though with significant exceptions.
Finally, there is the question of whether that's something people want. When asked whether more stringent norms, less stringent norms or as stringent norms are what they want, about a third (33.7%) of respondents said they wanted more stringent norms or that more stringent norms were a needed change. About half that number, or one-sixth (16.8%) said that less stringent norms were desirable or necessary. Lastly, about half that number (7.9%) said that the norms should stay where they are. All that adds up, to me, to a fairly clear preference for the norms growing more stringent from where they are.
That combination of things tells me that the community is divided on the idea of changing norms. While the least popular option is for norms to stay where they are, and the most popular option is for them to grow more stringent, the second most popular option is for them to grow less stringent... and that results in something of an impasse. The community as a whole has less of an appetite for changing norms (16.9% over/under for whether more stringent is good is versus 19.8% over/under for whether they perceive norms as becoming more stringent) than it has a belief in whether norms are changing. I think that might contribute to a feeling that change is being forced upon certain people, who may not otherwise believe they are doing anything to merit having such change forced upon them.
So, what that ultimately tells me is that we need to communicate with one another better. Talk with each other more. Listen to each other better. Understand that having different values doesn't mean that one of us is wrong and the other right, one of us a hero and the other a villain. In other words we need to build community, because we are a community at the end of the day.
Analysis: This one is also fairly straightforward. I know that some of the ideas - especially comprehensive safety suggestions, the controversy around which I've written about before - are controversial, but the responses on the whole speak for themselves. I put this one in there more-or-less for my own edification, to inform the kind of content I make going forward. I was intentionally leaning on the selection bias of the polling format, knowing that the audience of the poll was going to skew to my readers and followers, and took the answer to this question to mean "this is what my followers want to see me give them."
I already have a list of bad actors, so I will keep that updated when I can as well as calling out people when they cross my radar. I have written some material for new subjects, but I can definitely write more. Most of the guides I have written are framed for new hypnotists and I tend to find that most guides are written from that perspective, so it is a decent hole to fill to produce that kind of content.
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"Mike's relationship to sex, whatever it might actually be, is mostly the product of a geeky guy being catapulted right into the lion's den of rock music stardom, armed only with his good looks and awkward smile."
I understand your point, but I think this comes from before his fame in FNM, I believe he always had difficulty dealing with sex, if the rumors are true he lost his virginity "a bit late" (I don't think it's cool to judge each person's timing, but you understand), I believe it was when he was 19, and he himself said that it was because he finds sex a bit automatic and without much feeling, and I honestly don't think he was joking, I think he really thinks sex is a bit boring. I think that's it 😆 I always saw him as ace. but I believe that behind his thoughts regarding sex there must be deeper things that we don't know, because he is a mystery and never talks about his personal life, and 90% of what he says is banter, so we can't consider a lot of things he says... I don't think we'll ever know. Come here, Mike, tell us
I think we definitely agree - I suppose what I meant was that, without stardom, Mike would have just quietly and privately had a slightly awkward and maybe later blooming/later developing relationship to sex...like so many people do (I think??). For sure I think his younger self might not have seen the point to [vanilla] sex, maybe in a natural predilection for kink. And i guess that's where my gray-ace interpretation comes in...like...he's into it, but it's gotta be the right connection, the right person, similar "interests" if you get my drift....and those who qualify are few and far between. Otherwise, meh. But since he is in the public eye, it kind of gives him free range to be over the top sexual...in a strange way it can free him from being a vanilla hearthrob while also protecting(???) him from the normal groupie scene...like....chanting "fuck me" and asking if your mom wants to fuck you before singing about being raped in prison like...he might have thought....that'll keep the masses away....(lol he was wrong)
#there are deeper things....i am....certain of it....#mike patton#anon asks#so...uhhh....random SUPER personal story time....you don't even need to read this#just pretend there's a 'read more' line here....#i......uhhhhhhhhhh.....might have had a bit of psychosis around being connected to god when i was young?#so like...not at all religious per se - but like i definitely had auditory hallucinations that i interpreted as being spoken to by angels#and so i privately took a vow of celibacy#which was then broken when i was coerced into sex by a boyfriend when i was 20#and after that...the whiplash was swift and serious - because i was 'sullied' nothing mattered and i fucked everything in sight for a while#in every which way#and i.....i can't imagine if all that was happening while in the public gaze - actually i can....and it looks a lot like 1992-1995 mike#you didn't read this....it got real in the tags im sorry
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20 Questions for Fic Writers
thanks @inaconstantstateofchange for the tag!
1. How many works do you have on AO3?
54
2. What’s your total AO3 word count?
275k (damn, i hadn't realized it was that much overall)
3. What fandoms do you write for?
primarily dragon age (i've dipped into a few fandoms wrt fic writing over the years, but dragon age has been a mainstay for ages now)
and most recently, a for me unhinged amount of bg3
4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?
GET IT KIDS
The Common Tongue (Of You Loving Me)
Clean-Shaven
Slow Burn (that title is massively false advertising fyi)
Kintsugi
5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?
i Want to respond to a lot more than i actually manage to do >.> unfortunately the comments that are super lovely and involved are often the ones where i get super intimidated about answering bc i want to make it a Good ReplyTM ^^'''
basically if you've ever written me a nice comment, be assured that i swooned over it, even if i never got the spoons together to reply
6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
Good Men, Fall To Dusk, hands down. p sure that's the only one that could qualify as an actual tragedy
7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
oh hmmm. the majority of my fics tend to end happy overall, but i think Mirror on the Stage, Star to Star, Sun to Sun, and The Common Tongue (Of You Loving Me) are like… the most Joyful?
okay also honorable mention to Rites of Remembrance for having a very horny and very joyful ending XD
8. Do you get hate on fics?
so far, thankfully not! like, a handful of thoughtless comments over the years, but no Hate
(psa: "hey wouldn't it make more sense for this premise if you'd written a completely different fic instead" is a shit comment to give to anyone, alright)
9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?
oh so much
a lot of kink and character/relationship-exploration-y stuff especially! and also i've been called the pegging monarch, so there's that XD
10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?
not really, i tend to have a million AUs instead XD i did write a tiny bit of the hobbit/pacific rim fusion fic ages ago on tumblr! that's probably a contender for the craziest one
11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?
not that i know of
12. Have you ever had a fic translated?
i think so XD someone def asked if they could translate one, but off the top of my head i don't remember if they ever got around to it
13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?
yep! once a few years ago, and more recently just So Much of the trio au
14. What’s your all time favorite ship?
saar/solas <3 i've just accepted that they're my forever blorbos at this point (and yep to no one's surprise i did put them in bg3)
15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?
the rest of the rites verse fics tbh. i still love my space cats, but whew. no more spark to write in that fandom
16. What are your writing strengths?
i write really good smut and really good horror 💪
also people keep telling me i'm p damn good at characterization, which is good bc to this day i feel like i'm making it up as i go along
17. What are your writing weaknesses?
semicolons em dashes run-on sentences my beloved
18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?
if you want to, go for it! granted, i'm coming at this mainly from a fantasy language perspective bc that's what tends to come up in what i write, and i'm v much a fan of picking apart fictional languages
19. First fandom you wrote for?
oh god that's lost to the ages. Might have been yu-gi-oh???
20. Favorite fic you’ve written?
ohhh man HM. toss-up between The S͍̈́o͓̖̖̺͆ͩͣ̑ṋ̻̭̉͋͑g̓ͥ in the Halls and a matter of love, i think? song in the halls was the first time i Really wrote horror (and had SO MUCH FUN WITH IT), while matter of love is, uh. really fucking personal. it means a lot to me. so, yeah!
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2, 10, 11, 13, 16, 18, 19, and 40
2. talk about a notable time a narrative or character has looked you dead in the eyes and said “fuck your plan, here’s what we’re actually doing.”
already answered
10. at what point in the process do you come up with titles, and how easy or hard is that for you?
Very early in the process only because I have zero chill and as soon as that first chapter is written, it's getting posted. That's lead to having some fics that I wish I could rename because it didn't end up fitting the final form but... eh. It's all a learning curve.
Usually, I pull a quote out of the fic and that becomes the title (for the entire fic and the chapters), but I also like making puns or using well known phrases because I'm a fucking dweeb.
11. what’s something neat you’ve learned while doing research for something you were writing? also, how much do you worry about doing research in general?
I don't do a lot of research. Anyone that hangs around this blog and reads these asks for even a minute probably knows that I write strictly for the vibes. Basically, I don't worry to much about it and, if someone corrects me later, I try to change it.
I did an unusual amount of research about spiders as background for Peter in Songs for the Zombie Apocalypse. Mostly around how spider eyes work and what specific spider Peter might have gotten his mutations from. Jumping spiders have eyes that can do both telescopic vision and see colors and depth in the same way that humans do. I originally had plans to incorporate this more (lots of head tilting to dial in the telescopic sight) but it didn't fit the word count.
Also, if you ever need to know about New York cities surrounding Albany in the 1930s, I've drawn up a map. For reasons.
13. talk about a writing experience that has pleasantly surprised you.
already answered
16. where is your favorite place to write?
At home. I alternate between my desk and the kitchen table. I do genuinely enjoy writing in public as well (the library especially is fantastic!) but am hyper paranoid that someone is going to accidentally catch sight of a knife kink scene over my shoulder and call the cops.
18. what is your most and least favorite part of writing?
Writing is one of the few places that I ever experience a true sense of flow. The other being athletics which are frustratingly thin on the ground as an adult. I don't know, it probably sounds stupid to say that writing makes me happy. It doesn't make me happy but it allows me to get out of my own way sometimes which I fucking need.
Opening myself up for feedback is my absolute least favorite part of writing. It's why I usually don't edit (hope ya'll enjoy my sloppy first drafts!) or have a beta. Like, I write to get the fuck away from people and expectations, so it's EXHAUSTING when the writing creates those things in excess. I am terrible at taking constructive criticism. Don't give it to me. It will not end well.
19. what are some books or authors that influenced your style the most?
There are the authors that I wish would influence my style and then the ones that actually did. I grew up on a steady diet of very specific teenage horror and, the more I look back, the more I realize how much that probably influenced my work.
So, uh, thanks to Christoper Pike, I guess.
Beyond that, there aren't a lot of authors that I think influenced me. I found Chuck Palahniuk at a very special developmental stage for my brain and romance, as an entire genre, has (no shit) probably saved my life. Got to get the good brain chemicals from somewhere if you can't produce them yourself, right?
40. best piece of feedback you’ve ever gotten.
My fifth grade teacher, after grading a writing assignment, called my parents and convinced them to send me to creative writing summer camp. Maybe that qualifies more as praise than feedback, but it was wild to have someone believe in me that hard and go to bat for me just because she saw some potential in there somewhere.
#ask game#i deleted and rewrote that last response probably seventeen times#really giving away my age with that christopher pike answer#how dare you with some of these questions
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1, 6, 15 (lmao), 27, 43 (I know the answer to this one I just like hearing you talk about food), 44
1: who is/are your comfort character(s)?
honestly i do not really have comfort characters, not in the sense that most would. i just have comfort media and whatnot i guess, but individual characters are just parts of a story to me
6. why did you do that?
because i am the embodiment of sin.
15. are you a parent? (all answers qualify)
yes, and i love my darling little bunny with all my heart
27. about how many hours of sleep did you get?
uhhhhhhhh. bout three? maybe four. i went to sleep at like 9:30am and remember getting up around noon
43. what’s your take on spicy foods?
put them in my fucking mouth. i love spicy food so much, you know this well. i'm currently working up my spice tolerance to habanero peppers but i might also start eating some birds eye chilies if i can find them up here. i want to get to the point where i can eat them whole without too much discomfort then move on to scotch bonnets.
44. you get a free pass to kill anyone, who is it?
ohhhhhh god this is hard. this is really hard. if it wasn't for the fact that i'd miss howl so so much i'd probably choose my girlfriend trixie. a hole carefully opened in the side of the head, then lobotomy and death by brainfucking. alternatively, suffocation via throatfucking is fun and much more drawn-out.
then again there's also spite killing and revenge killing and those are pretty good too. a few people come to mind. the parents of those who are close to me that i know have mistreated them first and foremost. knowing what i know of some of them, the worst i can do still isn't enough
i think at the end of the day though i really just hate the idea of taking a life for any reason other than absolute necessity (even if i have a snuff kink). absolute grievous injury, immense pain, suffering and regret? delicious. i love seeing pretty weak things scared and in pain, and i like seeing awful people who exploit and hurt others for selfish reasons suffer nearly as much. i'm much more personally interested in revenge than justice, simply due to how much i enjoy it, even if i acknowledge justice in certain cases to be the apparent best choice.
that being said, if it gives me an excuse to put someone's eye out i won't complain no matter who's in front of me. maybe it's a bit deranged but i just love the idea of it. shrieks of pain and desperate struggle followed by the adrenaline, the shock, then the setting horror as they realize they have permanently lost something very, very precious indeed
:D
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Pricks And Fries
As I was graduating college, I had a t-shirt that my Mom intensely disliked. On the front of the shirt it had my mid-major’s logo along with the words “What job does my degree in history qualify me for?” and on the back, it had a picture of Beavis saying “Would you like fries with that?” I can understand why my Mom was not a fan of the shirt but it was good for a laugh, especially with my friends. I am not writing this today though to discuss the merits of specific college degrees because there is a topic that I feel many people who are new to the lifestyle or new to a relationship do not make it a point to learn about or in a partnership discuss of. This often-overlooked them is how do you or do you want to practice your kinks and no matter which of the three menu options the lifestyle presents they all come with a mandatory side of fries which can never be substituted for.
The first method or style of practicing the lifestyle is the one that I do see most commonly discussed as well as what I feel is the most popular is SSC. Those three letters stand for safe, sane, and consensual. There was not a group of professional lifestyle people who had a big meeting to mandate what is ‘safe’ in the lifestyle nor was there a subset of this group who might be mental health experts brought together to determine what is ‘sane’. The people who decide what safe and sane are those individuals who are in a partnership or who are going to ‘play’ together. For example, what I might consider safe and sane others may disagree and because there are no standards in this lifestyle, this is a conversation that must happen but it always comes with fries.
Next is called RACK and no this is not a lifestyle toy inspired by a medieval torture device. RACK stands for risk-aware consensual kink. This means people participating in kink activities together understand the risks of what they are going to do and they have included fries in their agreement. When I say understanding the risks, I have discovered that many people, especially those who are new, will say they understand the potential hazards but struggle to share the conceivable dangers when asked to share them. In my opinion not only do the risks have to be agreed to/accepted but openly discussed so everyone involved understands what could go wrong from the minor to a potentially life-threatening accident. As always, RACK comes with that side of fries.
Being called a prick in the lifestyle may mean that a person is a twattwaffle or it could mean they follow the lifestyle practice with the acronym of PRICK. This variant (I used variant because I am tired of it only used with ‘new’ and ‘Covid’) stands for Personal Responsibility Informed Consensual Kink. This method includes personal responsibility. Gasp, what a concept, people truly and openly taking responsibility for understanding the risks and rewards of what they are engaging in. For me, this reminds me of the state of the world where when things go wrong, no one wants to step up and handle the accountability that comes after the fact and I think this manner of practicing the lifestyle has directly grown from the “it is not my fault/blame others” mentality so prevalent today. Once again fries are mandatory, even if you are a prick.
Throughout this discussion, I have repeatedly talked about how FRIES is required because FRIES is a great way to remember and practice consent:
Freely Given – This means no one is being convinced, bullied, guilt-tripped, and/or pressured in any way into their decision to participate in an activity. Sadly, I need to add this, no one with an altered mental state, for example drunk, can give consent.
Reversible – At any point in time everyone has the RIGHT to change their mind. This can be communicated by saying anything from “I changed my mind” to a safeword.
Informed – Think of informed as you have explained thoroughly the act(s) you want to do, the risks, as well as the rewards to your partner/playmate, and they have done the research and thus they are making an informed decision to engage in the activities with you.
Enthusiastic – If everyone involved is not geeked, eager, and/or thrilled then you must consider their answer as a NO. Someone can be both eager and nervous but they must be excited about the project. No does not mean convince or pressure.
Specific – Just because a person has said yes to something, does not make it acceptable to think other things are hunky-dory. For example, a submissive said yes to wearing a skirt with no panties out to dinner, per the dominant’s request, but that does not give the d-type consent to touch her under the table.
Something that has always amazed me is how some in the lifestyle believe so fiercely in the way they practice the lifestyle. I have seen discussions on which method people use, SSC, RACK, or PRICK turn from a discussion into a knockdown drag out as people are loyal to the method they adopted. I believe that there is not a perfect method and the lifestyle is very individualistic, so learn about and adopt what best fits you and/or your relationship. In my opinion, it is perfectly fine to take from one, add a bit from another, and customize things as long as someone can clearly express how they practice and way and they always include fries. No matter a person’s methodology, consent is a requirement, and the methodology practiced should be part of the discussion when people are exploring a possible partnership or playmate.
As with all of my writings, please see this disclaimer.
©TLK2022
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The Dark Side of BL
@weekendatennuis asked:
Your BL curriculum breakdown today was *chef’s kiss* and the 10 cutest BLs was delightful but sometimes this little sunshine likes a little more heat and dark!
Have you done a breakdown of the darker ones?
Ooo, thank you and this is interesting. Because I recently got Gaga, I’ve been working my way through their back catalogue which includes some of the most dark BLs ever made (Japanese, of course).
How dark do you want it? Do you want a list of dark BLs that I still think are good and watchable? Or just a list of some of the darkest BLs ever?
Here’s:
Top 10 BLs without an HEA still worth watching & 3 that will wreck you
But these aren’t necessarily dark. However, those 10 are about what I would go with as my favorites. Since I don’t wallow much. I respect the need to wallow, though. So I guess I have to remove my taste and really play.
I am not going to include betrayal shows (like My Bromance, In Between Seasons, Grey Rainbow, History3: Make Our Days Count where the “twist” is one of the characters dyeing unexpectedly) or the Doomed Gays of Chinese History (e.g. The Male Queen).
Also, some of the following might not really qualify as BLs anymore. I did not include microfilms. If I remember where I saw it I included the source.
The 10 Darkest BLs I’ve Ever Seen
TRIGGER WARNING ON EVERYTHING!!! A lot of them are also VERY high heat. These are in order, starting with darkest/worst.
1. The Shortest Distance series (Japan 2019-2020 GaGa) [1. The Shortest Distance is Round (Noir) AKA Saitankyori wa Mawari Kudokute; 2. The Shortest Distance is Round 2: Rain and Soda AKA Saitankyori wa Mawari Kudokute: Ame to Soda Mizu; 3. The Shortest Distance 3: Fallen Flowers AKA Saitankyori Wa Mawari Kudokute: Rakka Ryūsui] - OKAY SO this is the darkest BL I’ve ever seen, it’s so dark it pushes into absurdist. It gets to a point where you’re like: so he cuts off his own junk for love? Of course he does. What else would he do? It’s teacher/student, false accusation, hustler, explicit sex with multiple men, and includes abuse, rape, violence, and mutilation, possibly a few others as well. But seriously, by the final installment I was all *yawn* TRY to shock me, boys.
2. Dangerous Drugs of Sex AKA Sei no Gekiyaku (Japan 2020 GaGa) - erm, right, so this is a suicidal man kidnapped right before he jumps and then kept and sexually tortured (high kink) by a doctor for... reasons. Explicit. Ends “happy” by some people’s standards. VegasPete the first installment.
3. Double Mints (Japan 2017 GaGa) - codependency, murder gay, bullying, humiliation and torture kink, self mutilation, Yakuza violence, rape, attempted suicide. Ya know, whatever.
4. Forbidden Love (Japan 2008 GaGa) - whipping boy trope, servant who grew up in the sinister mafia-esk family. Spoiled, rich, loose-cannon seme madly in love with the older, somber, moral-compass uke. Homophobic family, cheating, murder gay, incest, & necrophilia! Oh goodie.
5. Boys Love the series (Japan 2006 YouTube) - murder gay, mild necrophilia, cheating, abuse, rape, and ends with suicide for love.
6. Boys Love the movie AKA Boys Love 2 Schoolboy Crush (Japan 2007 YouTube) - teacher/student, obsession, desperation, abuse, mutilation.
7. Light (Taiwan 2021 GaGa) - ironically named movie about a street hustler (incest, rape, abuse survivor all depicted on screen) who falls in (and in love with) an undercover cop.
8. A Round Trip to Love (2016 China YouTube) - 2 parts, obsession goes rotten in China’s favorite way: kidnapping, rape, and uke sacrifices himself into death for the sake of his abuser. Because how else could it possibly go?
9. The Effect (Thailand 2019 YouTube) - classic uni-set Thai BL, seme falls madly in love with beautiful uke but it goes the way such kinds of obsession actually would in real life - into stalking, rape, abuse, accusations, and suicide.
10. Red Wine on a Dark Night (Thailand 2015 DramaCool) - I think this might be meant to be a slasher flick but it comes of more as basically “baby is a murder gay” weeeeeee.
Moody Arthouse Smackdoodle
Some that are more moody and angsty and cerebral dealing with depression and the like with an edge of honest queerness.
Your Name Engraved Herein (Taiwan 2020 Netflix) - this movie is fantastic but it is also seriously depressing, it’s a self acceptance journey, but if you wanna wallow in high quality acting and serious gay drama, this’ll do it.
Goodbye Mother AKA Thua Me Con D (Vietnam 2019 Netflix) - like YNEH this is a great movie but it deals openly with homophobia, bashing, family trauma and social acceptance.
For Love, We Can (Hong Kong 2014) - an indie movie about parental homophobia, light/dark pairing, and (of course) HIV.
The Cornered Mouse Dreams of Cheese AKA Kyuso wa Chizu no Yume wo Miru (Japan 2020) - obsession, cheating, breakup, reunion, then break up again, explicit.
Pornographer movie series - AKA The Novelist, Mood Indigo, Pornographer Playback (Japan 2018-2020) emotional manipulation, cheating, obsession, seduction, May/December (age gap AKA younger/older), kink, touch of necrophilia, explicit.
Method (Korea 2017) - May/December, actor idol pairing, that should have been everything I wanted in life but it’s more about the actor cheating on his wife and their weird “artsy” relationship and frankly, I hated this. And I don’t say that lightly.
Itsuka no Kimi e (Japan 2007 YouTube) - okay this is basically about a college student who saves this boy from drowning and then gets embroiled in his, and his identical twin’s messed up lives. It goes very weird.
His the series AKA I Didn't Think I Would Fall In Love (Japan 2019) - boy goes to visit his absent father ends up kinda homeless on the beach gets adopted by local family falls in love with the boy working and living with them. Lots of long drawn out glances.
Innocent (Taiwan 2021 GaGa) - mental health, childhood trauma, actually kinda sweet.
Okay But Make it Really BL-ish
These are all more BL with a strong representative sampling of darker themes and problematic yaoi tropes. So if you are enjoying Utsukushii Kare then these are worth investigating. In thematic order.
Does the Flower Bloom? (Japan 2018 YouTube) - bridging the gap to the arthouse style this is a May/December romance about an artist student and the house he inherits from his recently dead parents and all the people around him who are obsessed with him, including an older man.
Takumi-Kun (Japan 2007-2011 YouTube) - series features all the problematic tropes and watches almost exactly like yaoi reads, the leads do have good chemistry, though. Includes incest, abuse, dub-con, and obsession.
Addicted Heroin (China 2016 Viki) - unfinished due to censorship but still very good, well acted and shot, high school set, rich kid falls madly for the genius poor kid in his class, starts an aggressive pursuit, includes kidnapping for love, obsession, stepbrother trope, plus some cheating. I love this one.
Capture Lover (China 2020 Viki) - the ending is a touch confusing but basically this is the rich kid seme with nothing better to do, put to work in an office, falls hard for the strict boss, moves himself in and aggressively seduces him. Like a grown up Addicted. (Features Han Jing Chen, China’s Singto.)
River Knows Fish Heart (China 2018 GaGa) - this BL managed to sneak by the censors probably because it’s not very well acted and low budget. It’s also in Addicted territory, only this time with the jock who falls madly for the nerd and then just moves into his house to takes over his life. The tsundere uke is VERY tsundere and the seme is hella pushy so it goes right into dubcon territory but also it’s very teen angst about it.
Irresistible Love: Secrets of the Valet 1 & 2 (China 2016 YouTube) - 2 parts, I not-so-secretly love this BL. Kidnapping, whipping boy, obsession, mutilation, very hard fought happy ending (in one version). Absolutely classic Chinese BL pre-censorship.
Legend of Long Yang AKA Rebirth (China 2017 GaGa) - whipping boy trope... literally, servant character takes the strap for the prince, who then makes him his bodyguard and lover when he becomes king. Low budget historical, comes off as kind of cosplay wuxia version of Irresistible Love, but we get (in the credits) an actual kiss, and they both live. So yay for small mercies.
HIStory Obsessed (Taiwan 2017 Viki) - the softest version of the world’s most problematic yaoi tropes, while still managing to be those tropes.
HIStory 4: Close to You (Taiwan 2021 Viki) the side dish plot is basically a pastiche of problematic BL tropes inherited from the above. Great chemistry, high heat, stepbrothers, dubcon, obsession, stalker etc...
You might also try some of the ones I really loved but are only borderline BL (no cheese, no cringe, no smarm)
Not Me (Thailand)
Manner of Death (Thailand)
3 Will be Free (Thailand)
Triage (Thailand)
Love Mechanics (Thailand)
I Told Sunset About You (Thailand)
Old Fashion Cupcake (Japan)
Life: Love On The Line director’s cut (Japan)
What Did You Eat Yesterday? (Japan)
Restart After Come Back Home (Japan)
Blueming (Korea)
Long Time No See (Korea)
To My Star (Korea)
Ocean Likes Me (Korea)
DNA Says Love You (Taiwan)
(source)
#dark bl#depressing bl#heavy bl#high heat#dark tropes#japanese bl#chinese bl#taiwanese bl#The Shortest Distance is Round#HIStory Obsessed#HIStory 4: Close to You#Legend of Long Yang#Irresistible Love: Secrets of the Valet#River Knows Fish Heart#Capture Lover#Addicted Heroin#Takumi-Kun#Does the Flower Bloom?#Itsuka no Kimi e#Mood Indigo#The Cornered Mouse Dreams of Cheese#Kyuso wa Chizu no Yume wo Miru#Goodbye Mother#Thua Me Con D#Your Name Engraved Herein#Red Wine on a Dark Night#A Round Trip to Love#Boys Love#Forbidden Love#Double Mints
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arrière-pensée
— When you start a new job, you never thought you would come face with Most Wanted Ground Zero who decides that you’re going to help him make a point.
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pairing: bakugou katsuki x fem!reader
warnings: smut, 18+, robbery kink, consented noncon, public sex, exhibitionism, degradation, spanking, slight gunplay, sadist bakugou, machoist reader, blow job, character death, murder, blood, gun violence, knife violence
word count: 8,550
a/n: literally fuck me. I super fucking liked this prompt had clearly had too much fun because this was not supposed to be a long fic. anyways, I hope you like the idea of big bad evil bakugou fucking you to make a point. also, just trust me on the details on y/n I make, please. make sure to comment on all fics you enjoy, all authors love them!
carefully read the warnings!!!!
kinktober day 4 main kink: robbery kink
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“As for our latest news, the city of Chiba has decided to close the current twelve-month reigning search for the missing victim of the Chiba Bank robberies. However, known criminal known only by his alias Ground Zero who has been on our countries most wanted list on account of robberies, murder, and rape is still on the ru—”
Click.
You frowned as you threw the TV remote onto the bed, unease sitting on your stomach.
Pre-work jitters were a normal thing, right?
You looked at the full-length mirror in front of you, your finger pressed against a black pencil skirt, trailing up to brush against the white silk shirt you wore. Today is a special day, you reminded yourself as you lined closer to the mirror. Your hand grabbing the dark red lipstick you owned and as smoothly as you could, smoothed the cream over your lips.
The first day working at the esteemed Yaoyorozu Banking Inc., the world's most influential and wealthiest bank. Getting an interview at the prestigious bank had been a once in a lifetime opportunity, your incredible resume and references without a doubt getting your foot in the door to simply be a bank teller.
Yes, to simply be a bank teller, you had to know at least three languages (you knew English, Japanese, Mandarin, and Spanish), had to know someone with affiliations to either the Yaoyorozu family or the hiring team (your number one reference was none other than the CEO and Founders daughter), and have a certain intellect (there was an admittance test to even qualify to fill out a job application). It had been a rather challenging admittance for you, especially as they had only been one job opening. Frankly, you think your only reason for winning the spot was due to Yaoyorozu Momo’s hand.
Still, it mattered not in the end because you had the job—no use of trying to figure out just what made you stand out so much.
Pushing away from the mirror, you studied yourself over one last time.
Your outfit was exactly as they required it to be, your pink hair styled appropriately out of your face, and the slight gleam of your pantyhose made you heave a heavy sigh.
You were as ready as you could ever be.
With one final look into the mirror, you tilted your head at the gold-colored contacts you wore, a symbol of the job you held at Yaoyorozu Bankings and thought it made you look like a whole other person. No time to dwell on that, you decided, slipping on your watch and red-bottomed high heels and left your apartment.
It was time to work.
The commute to work was dull if you ignored the way your stomach twisted and turned in the thought of arriving at work. What would the security be like, at the bank, you couldn’t help but wonder? Would there be bulletproof glass? Ten security guards?
All the banks you’ve ever had the pleasure of entering had always been handled with a small waiting room for clients and a five-inch thick bulletproof glass wall. But that had been at smaller, local banks, not anything like where you were about to begin working. Yaoyorozu Banking had several different buildings designated for the different types of jobs located within their name. You did, however, know that the smallest only two-story building was for their in-person bank tellings. That is where you would be working. Two floors for an essential part of their business, and you had no idea what it looked like as you had no account with them, and your interview had taken place at their headquarters.
By the time the bus had pulled up to the stop, you would need to get off of, you could feel the nerves of the upcoming day begin to sit heavily on your bladder. You could feel the eyes of everyone else on the bus staring at you as you exited the vehicle. Everyone knew what this stop was for and had undoubtedly seen the gold contacts when you passed by them.
Each step of your heel against the sidewalk's paved concrete seemed to echo distinctly in your ear. It was rather odd, you noted as you walked toward the bank's building, that despite a large number of employees and patron’s the bank had, it seemed almost deserted. Looking down at the watch on your wrist, you knew immediately that you weren’t running late. As a matter of fact, you would be running precisely on time, showing up to your on-call site fifteen minutes before you were due.
Regardless, you took each stride in your step as powerfully and as in control as you could. Your gaze narrowed, focused, intense as you stared at the revolving crystal clean glass doors. With one last supporting thought about how you were absolutely going to make sure that you would end this day in success, you pushed through.
White marble floors, glossy white walls with black and gold accents met your gaze immediately. Despite the apparent shock of seeing the indoors of this lavish, distinctly rich bank, you continued moving as if unaffected. The clicking of your heels against the floor was the only thing letting you know that you were, in fact, moving.
Twelve men lined the lobby hallway, each tall, bulky with sunglasses and earpieces on. Although you couldn’t see their eyes, you had without a doubt that they were looking at you as you passed them to a set of large oak and gold accented doors.
There, a smiling woman greeted you. Her smile is warm and gentle as her own silver-colored eyes welcome you, and your spine stiffens at the appearance of information that passes through your vision.
Name: Fuwa Mawata
Position: Greeter & Inspector.
“Ah, welcome Uzume-chan!” she cheered in greeting, her mascara painted eyes closing in greetings. You said your hello’s, your voice breathy with the shock of this bank's high technological advantages. “I see that this is your first day here, and luckily for you, no one is around, so I may quickly inform you of entrance clearance!”
“T-That sounds perfect!” you admit, your smile feeling just the littlest bit too tight, but your hands held your bag tighter in your grip.
“Wonderful! Well, here at Yaoyorozu’s Banking Inc., we have a strict business protocol for both our clients and our employees! First, as you may or may not know, all of the building's operations take place on the floor above, and due to the clients we have, it's a bit… unorthodox in our approach. We are the only bank with no bulletproof glass between you, the bank tellers, and our customers!”
What now?
“Our clients are so finicky about being treated with such distrust that they’d rather have this approach!” Fuwa laughed as if there was absolutely nothing wrong with such statements. “So, to approach the bank, you must pass by me! But do not worry! We have never, ever within our nearly century-long reign, have ever been robbed or seized before. Our twelve men out there are true experts, and I have the only button to inform the police right here! Everyone, so both clients and employees, must leave their personal belongings here, and I will search you for any potential weapons!”
“I’m not allowed my phone up?” you asked, a bit confused by this rather outlandish set of rules.
“I’m afraid not! You’ll be so busy working the entire time you won’t be needing it. You are allowed to come and retrieve while on lunch since the break room and lunchrooms are down here on the first floor!” Fuwa confirmed, her head nodding in confirmation. “I understand that it can be a bit different, I myself am not yet used to it, but these rules are in place so that every one of our clients and employees can remain safe!”
You fight off the frown that dangerously tries to grow on your face by nodding, handing over your purse to Fuwa, “That makes sense.”
“Glad to know that it isn’t an issue for you, Uzume-chan! Now, if you’ll step past me, I’ll be checking for any concealed weapons, and you will be met with your supervisor as soon as you enter the second floor!”
It takes exactly two seconds for Fuwa to complete her scan of your body. She explained with a wink that her contacts allowed her to find any potentially dangerous weapon on a person's body. “No matter where it might be,” she added with a tilting head and a bright grin. “By the way, I love the watch! It’s so beautiful, it must’ve been expensive!”
“Oh,” you feel your face warm as you gently touch the watch, your finger tapping the watch’s face twelve times while your smile is unparalleled as you think of the man who had gifted you the object. “Thank you, it was a gift.”
With that, you climbed up the stairs as sophisticatedly, brushing a few strands of curly pink hair out of your face as you enter the main floor, and you realize immediately that the quiet of the first floor and outdoors does not reach this floor.
The second floor is loud.
People with their names and occupations flashing within your view walking from table to table, stacks of paper in their arms, arguing, or talking with those around them. It was a sight to behold, indeed. But a voice interrupted your thoughts, and before you could honestly assess the situation at hand, you were whisked away, a detailed explanation of your job and expectations were.
Unexpectedly, Fuwa had been right.
This job had no downtime.
You sat on a leather seat at a desk to handle the clients. Much like old banks out west, your desks were much higher than those you were servicing; most often, you had to look down at them like a mother to a child as you worked.
Your supervisor, who went by the name Togeike Chikuchi, was over your shoulder for about an hour, detailing and correcting your every action until you cleared ten clients entirely on your own. At this moment, she sat at the desk to your left, chatting with her client with a bright sunny smile that you had thought for a moment she was incapable of.
It was 14:23 when you were with a client who was currently wondering if sending her ‘poor niece who lived with her amazing female roommate’ ¥500,000 was enough for a week worth of groceries. Of course, it took everything in you to bite your tongue and ask her if she had ever bought her own groceries before.
“Well, if you’re asking me, I think that’s a perfect amount!” you smile pleasantly, watching as who you’re pretty sure to be a CEO of a rice tycoon company. “If anything, you can always question her if that was enough the next time you speak. Everyone is always so different when it comes to groceries.”
“Ah, I suppose so!” she laughs good naturally, her arms rising to press a slip of paper with her account information on it on your desk. “I always spend almost—”
She cut off, and for the first time, you didn’t have to wonder why.
There was an echoing, distant sound of four straight bangs.
It seemed to have been heard collectively by the entire second floor because, for a moment, there was a silence that wrapped the whole floor.
Mumbles and murmurs soon flooded the floor, and a frown pressed against your lips as you stared at the staircase. What happened?
“Oh, I bet you that dumb janitor downstairs dropped his vacuum again!” your client huffed, her eyes rolling while you transferred the amount she requested from her account over into her nieces. “He did that the last time I was here too! Except it only caused two loud bangs like that! How immaturely irresponsible of him! Unable to do his job correctly and as a janitor at that? How much lower could he possibly get?”
You, once again, bite your tongue, choosing instead to laugh in faux humor over her rant. The agreeing lie on your tongue moments from being let out when a new sort of movement at the corner of your eye stopped you.
Climbing up from the staircase was a man who took heavy, powerful steps. You were getting used to the way these clients carried themselves. They all tended to stride authoritatively, commandeering all attention to them. Despite their dominative pace, they were almost light on their feet, their steps relatively silent as they walked from corner to corner. But this man who made his way up the stairs was heavy, barbaric, and fierce with every echoing footstep he took.
It was as if the world slowed down as the entire room went to stare at him, and an ice-cold shiver crept down your spine as you took him in.
Ash blond, spiky unruly hair. Splattered red blood covering his exposed arms and neck. A black get-up looked akin to a secret black op team with the black army vest, black tank underneath, black army pants, black combat boots, and strap around his right thigh that seemed to carry two guns and knives. As a matter of fact, his vest also showcased the copious amount of ammunition he had.
It was Ground Zero.
Fear plunged through you as he rose a single hand to the ceiling, a sickening smirk spreading on his face as the world seemed to slow down. Many clients chose to turn to look the second his finger pulled on the trigger.
BANG.
BANG.
BANG.
Shrieks erupted through the floor, and you watched as everyone, including yourself, hit the deck. Your body trembled with nervous fear as the gun firing stopped.
“Everybody get the fuck up.”
It was a low voice, gravely, and course with evident past strain. You looked across the way to Togeike, who looked just about as fearful and terrified as you felt.
You didn’t dare to move, and by the looks of it, none of your coworkers did either. There was no panic button on this floor, and the only way to the switch was at Fuwa’s desk. A desk that couldn’t be reached unless passing by the man with black paint smeared across most of his face in a strategic way that rendered him anonymous by all photographic and video evidence.
“I don’t think I fucking stuttered,” Ground Zero sneered, a light, fickle chuckle erupting low and deep in his chest as the sound of scared whimpers and silent sobbing began to pick up around the room. You didn’t need to know who was making those noises; after all, you knew what everyone was already thinking: will I be killed next? There was a loud bang a bit too near to your body, and you couldn’t help but scream in tandem with everyone else on the floor and the distinctive, irreplicable sound of someone choking on their blood. “I said, everyone, get the fuck up.”
Flight or fight were always two instincts you were taught about in school. Two altering, opposite reactions to being placed in stressful situations, but right now, you were in that third, lesser-known option: freezing.
“It’s like you elite bastards are begging to fucking die!” he laughed joyously, and you felt tears push to your eyes as another resounding bang shake through your body, your ears ringing with the noise. The now becoming familiar sound of a body hitting the floor dead and bleeding sending a sickening bubble through your throat.
But you pulled yourself up, your body trembling like a leaf as you stared at the infamous criminal who was merely smirking at the two dead bodies of clients who continued to bleed out on the floor as those around them cried.
“So, even with all the money in the goddamn world, you damn elitist are still damn fucking cry babies!” he cried with unrestrained, unleveled glee and anger. “Oh, this was the perfect place to choose as my final exit from the world.”
Your breath stops when he turns on you, his blood-red eyes locking on yours, and you can feel the hairs on your arm rising in unsettling knowing.
“Aren’t you a pretty looking whore,” he smirked, his hands putting his gun back into its holster, his heavy feet booming as loud as his gunshots as he makes his way towards you. The rest of the clients, especially the one located by your desk, shriek, cowering as he moves. “Tell me, whore, who does a guy gotta fucking talk to to get the money into my account?”
Your throat seamlessly tightened up in your deep fear as he directly addressed you, and you made a choking noise in your horror.
But, it seemed that Ground Zero was not in the mood for your timidness. Because you could see the vein in his temple throb, the sound of him sucking in his teeth, and the cold, humorous chuckle that rumbled in his chest as he grabbed his gun back out of its holster and pressed it centimeters away from between your eyes.
Typically, the clients couldn’t reach you from where they stood, but it was clearly apparent as he neared you that Ground Zero was not typical. He was big, huge, tall, and he quickly reached you.
The heat of the previously fired bullets from the muzzle of the gun radiating off it clearly, licking the skin on your forehead as finally, words tumbled out.
“I just started today, Togeike-san is my supervisor!”
Ground Zero lazily smirked as he followed your thrust out finger at your coworker and supervisor.
A loud choking sound spluttered from Togeike as Ground Zero turned his attention onto her and stalked over in three steps easily. His eyes were sharp, deadly, and cold as he stared at your supervisor, and he reached into one of his many pockets and pulled out a black USB.
“Put all the bank's assets onto the account on this drive.”
“W-What if I don’t?” Togeike stammered, her body quivering just the same as yours. But the false sense of confidence only resulted in the gun being placed back between her eyes, only this time, he pressed the hot muzzle against her skin, and she shrieked at her burning skin.
“Try that again, you fucking extra,” Ground Zero hissed, and Togeike sobbed, grabbing the USB with a nod.
“I’ll do it! I’ll do it! I’ll do it!”
The sound of Togeike sobbing is almost as bad as the intruding smells of iron rusting blood from the dead bodies and the sick smell of the burning flesh on her forehead.
It seems to take forever, you standing there silently, perfectly still as Togeike hooks the hard drive to her computer. You can see that she begins the monetary transfer from the bank's large accounts and reserves onto the account enabled on the hard drive, and you feel numb. Should you be relieved that he would most likely take this once it was done and leave? Scared that he was here on your first day at that? What shit luck…
You concentrated on your hands as time seemed to drag by slowly, your knees still feeling weak, your breathing shallow as the crude smell of drying blood makes your head spin.
But unlike you, you hadn’t raised a single gaze in Ground Zero’s way, a rising sound of voices began to resonate from the floor and opposite side of the room. You blinked rapidly as you looked up.
Four men stood up, their brows furrowed, suits abandoned, and expressions steady and fierce.
“The fuck you think you’re doing standing up, fucking wimps?” Ground Zero gruffed, his body language telling a whole other story from his voice. He was relaxed, unaffected by their challenging forms and fierce glares. “What? Don’t tell me? You think you four in front of me can take me? Don’t fucking flatter yourself. Even with the three behind me who’s easily apart of your fucking idiotic plan, I’ll kill ya all before you can pray to not to be sent to hell!”
“Flatter ourselves?” a man scoffed after getting over the initial shock of their once thought to be secretive plan being exposed without so much as a spec of interest from Ground Zero. “Don’t you get so fucking cocky! We’ll beat your ass and hand you over to the fucking police, you damn bastard!”
Screams erupt throughout the entire room as the seven in cahoots men lunge forward at the dangerous criminal who has set himself back center stage of the second floor.
It’s over before you can blink.
You scream with the masses as five excruciatingly loud bangs go off, and you can barely return your gaze on the fighting men to see the outcome you already know.
There are six bodies on the floor, bleeding out fleetingly as Ground Zero holds the seventh by the neck. Your jaw drops as more blood splatters against Ground Zero’s chest, and you’re none the wiser of the knife buried deep within his throat until the body is falling over, dead, lifeless.
“All the fucking money in the world and none of you were taught fucking manners of a properly functioning brain, hah?” he roared, his lips pulled into a threatening, angry snarl as sobs erupt through the crowds again, and a rolling tingle shoots through your body. “I guess killing everyone just isn’t fucking enough for you all, is it?”
You were unsure of how to even answer that. Your eyes falling over onto Togeike, who was silently crying, her eyes screwed tightly as the meter on the money transfer hits 47%.
“Let me set an example for anyone else who wants to try more bullshit in front of me,” Ground Zero snaps, and you shriek when his bloodied hand tangles into your pink hair and yanks you over the desk.
Crashing onto the floor as ungracefully as one could, your eyes widen and jaw drop in an excruciating, soundless scream as pain shoots through your body. But, it’s not near over yet.
Your hands weakly grab Ground Zero’s wrist, trying to ease the pulsing pain in your body and scalp as he drags you front and center of the second floor. You can’t even understand yourself at this point, sniffling, pathetic pleas to let you go, tears streaming down your face as he throws you, your body hitting the marble floor as you sob for forgiveness.
“Now,” Ground Zero speaks from above you, and your arms have never felt weaker as you press up from the cold, ice floor. You freeze, your body feeling like a tundra as a now all too familiar click of a loaded gun resonates centimeters from your head. You silently sob when a warm muzzle pressed against the back of your head. “The next person to look away from what I’m about to do to my new cum whore, the next person who even fucking thinks of trying some really unfunny shit… her life is on your head.”
The sobs stop with that threat, or did they grow more at the easily implied actions of the corrupt man before you? You couldn’t really tell anymore. Yet slowly, the clients who are sitting in dead men’s blood shakily turn their gaze to you, and you can feel the weight of all their eyes on you. You feel weightless, almost empty.
“Pink hair is for whores, didn’t you know that? That’s why I picked you.” Ground Zero informs you from behind you. The barrel of the gun digs harder, pushing roughly against your head. “Whores are meant to be fucked by fat fucking cocks, so turn around, whore, and suck me off.”
Your breathing returns in spastic, shallow breathes, and you suppress the rising sob in your throat as you turn around on your hands and knees.
Ground Zero stares down at you with expectant eyes, cruel and dark with their crooked want and lust. Your breathing picks up when he unbuckles his belt and removes his pants and underwear with only one hand, the other one with the gun never once leaving your head.
“Make sure you all watch her, I’ve never had to kill a bitch while sucking me off, and I wouldn’t want to make this the first time!” Ground Zero laughed, his crimson red eyes glaring at the shamefully gazed clients as he holds his growing cock in his hands. Despite all logic, you stare at his hardening cock with an ever-increasing lust, the tears in your eyes never stopping, but your cunt unwilling to ignore the fact that his cock would feel so good in anyone of your holes. You knew that, and it horrified you. “The fuck you waiting for?” Ground Zero growled, shifting the barrel of the gun to your temple, his eyebrow raised in a taunt. “Suck my fucking cock.”
And despite the growing hiccuping cries in your chest, you can’t stop the way your mouth waters as you shamefully grab onto his cock and press your mouth down on him.
His cock was large, undoubtedly longer than your face, and thicker than what your hand could encompass. Messy dark blond pubes sat motions away from your nose, and veins that ran all over his length rubbed against your tongue. The taste of his slightly sweaty cock made you gag, but the fear of what he would do caused you to snuff it out.
Tears poured limitlessly down your face, your throat and jaw stretching as far as it could as you took him in further and further.
Even with the tears on your cheeks, you did your best to appease him, horrified by the outcome should you not. Your tongue swirled against his girth, trailing the plenty of veins that you could get to. His cock pressed further into your mouth, shoving until it hit the back of your throat, continuing to dive in deeper until the ends of his pubes tickled your nose, and you could feel the head of his cock stretching out your throat. And horrifically, even with the strangled, choked sobs that still continued to pour from your mouth, you were enjoying the way he was fucking your mouth.
You enjoyed the way the cooling barrel on your temple made you quiver with dreadful apprehension. You enjoyed the way his hips rocked into your mouth, most often hitting your gaping jaw. You enjoyed the way the noises of your unwilling audience made you feel dirty, whorish, and shameful. But as his fingers managed to slip into your hollowing cheeks, drool and saliva dripping down your chin in your slobbering heat and shame, you could feel your essence slicking onto your panties.
“Look at how shameless you are!” Ground Zero laughed, his hand that once guided his cock into your mouth, gripping onto your hair and fisting into it. You yelped at the pain, your teeth painfully close to biting his cock. “All these people around watching you suck off the big, bad Ground Zero’s cock, and you aren’t even embarrassed!?”
You made a disagreeing noise, your brows furrowing, your gaze doing everything in its power to avoid your clients and coworkers gaze as Ground Zero began to rock his hips even more powerfully into your mouth. He chuckled, clearly pleased with what was occurring, and he threw the gun back into its holster. With the free hand, he placed it around your throat, squeezing your airway as you choked pathetically against his length and girth.
“I bet you came into work wanting to be fucked today. Wanting to get pressed to the floor and let everyone see your slutty fucking cunt and throat be used.” Ground Zero growled his grip on your throat, tightening even more. “Is that why you came here to work? Hoped I’d show up one day and fuck you to submission in front of everyone?!”
You gagged, the pounding of his cock further and further down your choked throat overwhelming you as the tears of shame quickly became those of fear as the lack of oxygen burned your throat and nose. You tried to breathe, but Ground Zero knew what he was doing and how he was doing it, not allowing you to breathe despite the way your fingers created crescent scars on the back of his thighs.
Too much, too much, too much!
His balls slapped under your chin, and the musk of his skin tainted your tongue, but Ground Zero was only getting started, it seemed. With his hands now grabbing the sides of your head, he began to fuck your throat savagely.
The wet sloppy noises of his driving cock into your throat seemed to echo off the shiny walls and marble floors. Your saliva and drool ruining your silk top and mixing with the blood on the floor.
Your eyes were crossing with the extreme force, your body feeling weightless with your inability to breathe, yet despite all logic, you finally let out a sweet, grateful moan as your nose pressed to his hips.
But that was enough for Ground Zero.
It was a noise that would finish the last nail in your coffin as he held you there to his hips, his cock entire within your throat that tightened and fluttered against his length as you struggled to pull away.
“No use in fighting it now, you fucking whore,” Ground Zero grinned, the expression on his face akin to that of a predator stalking his prey. His voice, ever so naturally loud, filled the room, letting everyone know just what was going on. “They all heard you moan like a slut while getting fucking raped by me. So do me a little favor and get on all fours, I need a place to dump my fucking cum.”
With that, Ground Zero shoved you off his cock and onto your back, and you began to cough and choke desperately. The sour, raunchy scent of the sweat, blood, and gunpowder burning your nostrils as you attempted to steady yourself. You began to cry again at the filthy thought of how you were enjoying the way his cock had been in you, and the way your body craved for more of it.
You didn’t want to admit that you wanted him to fuck you, especially in front of everyone.
But as you were consumed with your at war thoughts, Ground Zero was already impatient.
His feet trapped you between him, and he leaned down to grab your silk shirt.
“W-Wait—!” you shriek as he rips open the shirt, the sound of scattering buttons flying everywhere as your bra is revealed to everyone in the room who is watching.
Silent tears poured down your cheeks as with the destruction of the white silk shirt, a sheer and lacy red bra was exposed to the mass. Today had been a means of celebration, and you had intended on fucking your boyfriend the moment you got home… but that had been something you had kept a secret. Something to be held from the world until it was you and him in a bed. But it was now an object to be seen by everyone, and you bit onto your lower, trembling lip, eyes screwed shut as you tried to look away from the heated territorial look on Ground Zero’s face.
“Oh, look at what we have here?” Ground Zero almost whispered, but his voice still managed to reach every corner of the floor. “You are a little fucking whore, are you not? Came to work actually wearing lingerie! I thought I was just fucking teasing you before, but no! No! Not at all! You do want to be fucked in front of everyone!”
Your sniffling wouldn’t stop as his large, hot, bloodied dried hands grabbed at your bra-clad breasts. He was leaning down over you, you could feel the amused breathing flushing against your collarbone, and you mangled a choke when he kneeled down, trapping you.
“Such an ugly pair of tits,” Ground Zero mocked, his large hands pressing the sides of your breasts together, enhancing your cleavage and fullness of your breasts as you lay on the floor. “I’ll let you in on a secret… all those missing sluts I’ve fucked in previous jobs? Well, I can always tell how good a fuck they’d be just through this part.”
Hissing, you glared at Ground Zero as he slipped his fingers under the fabric, teasing and pulling at your pebbled nipples. His red glare meeting yours, mocking and somehow both hot and cold.
But a shameful, pitch moaned fell from you, your back against all logic arching up into Ground Zero. Soft whines, shaking arms, thrashing legs.
“Would you look at that,” Ground Zero’s sneering tone was back, and you found yourself opening your eyes (somehow missing when you closed them), to see Ground Zero glaring at someone in the crowd. “Looks like you could make a professional slut, whore! That man over there has a fucking boner over watching me rape you and your slutty mouth and feeling up your tits!”
“N-No I don’t!” the man exclaimed as you couldn’t help but meet the accused eyes that were filled with shame, a red blush tainting his cheeks. “Just thinking about when this’ll be fucking over!”
“Oh?”
Ground Zero’s grip grabbed you by the throat, and you panicked as he ripped you up onto your feet and began walking over to where the man was. You stumbled to keep up, unable to find your balance the entire time you walked with him, in awe that this unlawful man could walk determinedly when his pants around his thighs, hard, leaking cock pressing to his vest-clad stomach. But before you could find your balance, Ground Zero threw you back onto the floor, landing centimeters from the client's feet, and you began to cry as your exposed stomach touched the floor.
Ground Zero wasted no time on your noises, straddling your ass, scooping his hands beneath your breasts, and pulling you up.
The client's face went beet red, his bulge in his pants evident as you could only keep your gaze there, unable to raise or turn your head as Ground Zero squeezed your breasts in his hands.
You moaned at the sensation, your mind giving in to the feelings to not cry anymore.
“Tell the whore how much you like her tits,” Ground Zero commanded, his hands kneading and pulling at your mounds of flesh. “Tell her your little microcock wants to fuck her.”
The client had the decency to look offended as he spluttered, “I’M NOT GOING TO TELL HER THAT!”
With his words, silence took over the room, and you trembled in your fear.
“Damn extra?” Ground Zero shouts to Togeike.
“Y-Yes?”
“How much fucking longer?”
“I-It’s at 63%!”
“Wonderful.”
One of Ground Zero’s hands abandoned his manipulation of your breasts, but he still managed to keep you in place with only one hand. He pulled a breast out of the bra, and you whimpered as the client gwuaffed at the sight of your breast, but immediately cut himself off when a cold, heavy metal barrel pressed against your temple.
“Let’s try again,” Ground Zero said with faux cheer. “Tell the whore how much you like her tits, and how your microcock wants to fuck her, or else I’ll kill her right in front of you.” There’s a heavily, curling silence that overwhelms the room before he decides to add one last thing for good measure. “I’ve never fucked a dead body before, and I wouldn’t want to start that now.”
“I-I like her tits,” the man stammered.
“How much?”
“T-They’re… they’re so hot,” the man begins to cry, his body shaking in front of you. “I wish I could b-be fucking her instead!”
“Too bad for that microcock you have, huh?” Ground Zero taunted, pulling the gun from your temple and pointing it straight at the man's crotch. “Show her.”
“W-What?!”
“Show her your cock.”
It seemed to happen so slowly. The man unbuckling his belt with shaky hands, clumsily undoing his pants, and shifting it down his legs, white boxer briefs stained slightly with pre-cum. You looked away when he revealed a cock that looked pathetic to the one you had just sucked, so small, so thin, so discolored.
“You got one fucking ugly ass cock,” Ground Zero laughed.
Then the world picked back up.
The first thing you heard and felt was the tearing of your skirt, and you panicked as Ground Zero dropped your chest onto the cold floor. You whipped your head around to see your work skirt split all the way down the middle, only held together by a few remaining strands by the waistline. And the sheer pantyhose you wore, twisted between his fingers, and completely ripped as his gaze met yours.
“Cute fucking thong.”
You choked at the feeling of cold, soured air hitting your inner thighs that were still wet with your slick, and instinctively, you tried to scramble onto your knees. But it seemed that this was what Ground Zero wanted from you, for the moment you were on your knees, he pressed his hand to the curve of your back and kept you there.
Ass up, back curved, chest down.
“Until the transfer is at 100%, your wet little cunt is mine!” Ground Zero reveled in the information as he couldn’t even bother to pull down your panties before plunging his fingers into your sopping heat.
The shameful pleasure of feeling his fingers deep within your cunt sent you screaming, your back arching even further as his fingers continued to thrust in you. They curled and spread, sending your mind into a spiraling lust as he managed to find all of your sweet spots without so much as breaking a sweat.
“You’re so easy,” Ground Zero groaned, his cock rutting between the curves of your ass as he continued to finger fuck you. “So fucking wet too. I just knew a fucking whore like you couldn’t be getting fucked right at home, that’s why you hoped you’d get fucked by me today!”
Your teeth bit into your forearm, the overwhelming pleasure of his fingers stroking your inner walls, tweaking and moving against your clit, making your thighs tremble with the already forming pressure in your womb.
“Don’t be embarrassed, you little whore,” Ground Zero whispered into your ear, laughing when you shuddered at the feeling of his tongue licking the shell of your ear. “Everyone wants to hear you moan, scream, and cry for the big bad Ground Zero’s cock. Don’t mute yourself, let them hear just how well I’ll fuck you into a puddle of tears and cum.”
You didn’t want them to hear you begging for more. You didn’t want the entire room to know that your cunt was spasming and clenching around his fingers because you liked this. You didn’t want them to know.
“I bet fuckface in front of you really wants to hear it!” Ground Zero laughed, his finger doing light, quick circles against your clit as his other hand brought your attention to the man before you. Sure enough, his cock was throbbing, precum leaking down his length as he shamefully looked at you. “Don’t worry, I don’t mind you fucking yourself as I fuck this stupid cunt.”
But with the building pressure in your stomach. Your toes curling as the soft thumps of his fingers dive in and out of your sopping wet cunt, your body begins to tense up.
“Already ready to cum,” Ground Zero smirked, and you felt your body go rigid when his fingers left your cunt, and was immediately replaced with his large, thick cock.
Having not expected such action, your arms shot out, eyes rolling back as a guilty, wanton scream tore through your throat. He was so big, so thick, so full, stretching you out completely, sending your tight walls into a frenzy as they stretched and tightened around his cock.
Fuck, fuck, “fuck!”
“Oh, she speaks!” Ground Zero laughs, almost a bit deranged as he grabs onto your waist and begins to plow into you. “I wonder to what lengths I can get you to speak! I want to hear you screaming for me, whore.”
It was then that he slammed his hand against your ass cheek, causing you to shriek while your skin throbbed in his wake. It was heavy-handed, the power he held in his hand while never doubted, didn’t make you think it was ever this much. The pleasure curled pain made your knees buckle, a hot pressure bursting in your core, and another loud slap repeated on the same throbbing cheek.
Fisting in your hair, you keened loudly when Ground Zero yanked your head back. The arch in your back was dramatized by this action; your back ached as another heavy slap echoed against your swelling skin. His dense, almost wild breathing hits the shell of your ear, and chills shoot down your spine when he snarls.
“Your cunt is so fucking tight, is whoever this getup for fuck you shitty too? Don’t tell me this fucking extra is the man you fuck in your bed?” he laughs, his foot stamping to the outside of your leg. The new position increases the range and the power of his thrusts, sending your body forward with every squelch bringing thrust. “I bet you’d like it if your stupid cock piece was here to watch how a real fucking man fucks, huh? You fucking would—” his hand comes down to wrap around your waist, pinching and tugging at your clit that’s thrumming with impending orgasm. Ignoring your growing pleads for more— “You like being an example to everyone in this fucking shit room of how to be fucked correctly! I bet you’re actually liking the way they’re judging you and your tight, wet cunt.”
The next powerful thrust that has his balls smacking your skin nearly sends you tumbling over at the strength and power behind it. Your arms buckle under you, the weight and struggle to keep yourself upright was a challenge as Ground Zero abused your clit and cunt.
“Answer me, fucking whore.”
There was no stopping Ground Zero’s heavy hand against your pert ass, and you could not think of anything but how your cunt throbbed for the man behind you. Your sobs of pain had long ago become those of pleasure, and you could feel the raised prints of his hands on your sore cheeks. It was true; it delighted you.
“Y-Yes, I like being fucked by you!” you finally break crying, your body trembling in your excitement and need for more. “I like them watching as you fuck me! You fuck me so good!”
“Glad you could finally admit it because your cunt is so fucking wet right now I’m sure everyone else already knew,” he sneers while he rubs circles against your heated skin. “You’re trembling with excitement as you try telling me you don’t want me to fuck you. I can see you choking back your cries of pleasure, the fuck you take me for? Do you want me to leave you without an orgasm?”
“N-No!” you sob pathetically, arms pathetically stretching behind you to keep him thrusting faster into you. “D-Don’t leave me until I-I cum!”
Your words were loud, letting everyone know just how much you wanted this, just enough for the man before you to groan as he came, and you thanked Ground Zero as you trembled like a leaf before him. His upper lip pulled back into a smirk as he let go of your hair, letting your head drop back onto the floor, and his fingers go and pinch your nether lips, and you cried loudly.
“I know you can fucking scream louder than that. I want the entire fucking world to know who’s fucking you right now.”
The words were honey to your ear, and you shifted in an attempt to ease the growing lust between your legs.
Slap.
“Fuck me! Fuck me harder! Please, Ground Zero, don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop!” you babble, your tongue falling from your mouths as you pant like a bitch in heat, your body convulsing and shaking with need and heightening lust.
Your mind reeled as Ground Zero continued his conquest against your cunt. You could barely count the number of times he drilled his cock straight into your heat, the tip of his cock pressing into your cervix over and over. The added sensation of his fingers manipulating your clit, and shoving into your mouth to tug on your tongue as you began to grow too loud made you dizzy. Your ass and thighs were undoubtedly bright red and in the air, back arched further than you had ever gone, and saliva and tears seeping onto the marble floor.
“You’re so fucking wet,” he cheers as he repositions the angle in which he’s driving into you, and your ragged moans fill the area at the need of more. He continued fucking you, and while feeling finally returned to your abused ass, your hips finally began to buck against his commanding hips, trying to get the echoing slaps to grew even louder. “Such a greedy little slut.”
Gritting your teeth, you continued pushing against him, craving more heat, power, and pain.
“Is this not good enough for you?” Ground Zero chuckles, but there’s no light humor to his laughter. “Good.”
At that phrase, Ground Zero slams into you with the power and force you had yet to experience. Causing you to howl in your throbbing lust, your mind more a second snapping back out of its haze as you feel his cock twitch within you. Your breathing is harsh as you try to look at Ground Zero, finally trying to take a glance at how he looked. You wondered if he was as unhinged as you felt, as savage as you imagined with his lustful red eyes.
“Where is it at?” Ground Zero barked over at Togeike.
“I-It’s at 97%!” she stammered, shame dripping from her voice, and you had half a mind to wonder if they were all turned on too.
Maybe they were jealous of the fat cock claiming you, and you mewl in the thought, your back bristling as you slammed back onto his drilling cock. You wanted more from him, craved more from him. The coil in your belly still yet to be undone, but you were not going to let it snap anytime soon.
“Gotta fucking make this little slut cum soon then, huh?” Ground Zero grinned, and you felt his teeth bare into the back of your neck in a flash of throbbing, burning pain.
You cried.
The angle and power behind these growing sloppy thrusts were different than what you were used to. It was deranged almost, your body shifting with each thrust, nearly toppling over as Ground Zero claimed you with his teeth and his cock. With each hypnotizing slam of his hips, ringing moans of pleasures ripped from your throat, and you brought your arms as best you could to his waist to keep him there.
Sweat dripped down Ground Zero’s neck, his hands gripping your bruised and battered ass like some type of life support, and the squelching noises of your slamming sex were making your body weak.
“Please — fuck — do that! Do that again, please!” you screamed when a vein in his cock dragged against your pulsating, puffy walls, at the same time he pushed against your cervix.
“Such—” thrust— “A—” thrust— “Fucking—” thrust— “Whore!” thrust! “Who do you fucking belong to?!”
“Y-You, Ground Zero!” you scream, your hips buck against his slamming hips. It was so raw, so rough, and you were enjoying every passing second. “I belong to you! I’m your fucking whore, please fill me with your cum! Cum in me, please cum in me!”
Ground Zero preens at your praise, all while he continues to fuck you roughly. He was in his zone, his concentration like steel as he pounded into you again and again. Your inner walls clenched and spasmed against his penetrating cock, and the heated pressure now spilling over.
His cock twitched within you. It knocked the breath out of you; his fingers twisted into your hair.
“Fucking cum with me,” he demands, jerking your head back towards him again, and you sob as your legs tremble against his increasing power.
You feel your eyes cross, screaming out his name as your walls clamp down fiercely against his length, and you orgasm roughly, your body shaking and spasming uncontrollably as you scream his name. Ground Zero curses loudly, slamming into you one last time with the power and tenacity of an army as he lets out a string of curses, and you moan, knowing that he came in you.
“Such a good slut,” Ground Zero grins as you can feel your eyes fluttering shut, physical and mental exhaustion now catching up with you. “Sleep now, I’m not done with you.”
You couldn’t gather the energy to speak back, your world blacking out with the sounds of sobs, screams, and more gunshots.
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You wake up in a car.
The warm, gentle wind caressing your face as the world is quiet. It's calm, pleasant, pleasing. Your pink wig is on your knees, slightly ruined with blood, sweat, tears, and drool.
You sigh, your body throbbing with different pain as you look to your right at who’s driving.
It’s Ground Zero, or as you know him: Bakugou Katsuki.
His arms are covered now, the old black op outfit changed for a pair of black slacks and a red button-down shirt. You would have no idea he was the man who stormed into Yaoyorozu Bankings earlier that day.
“Good morning,” you sigh, reaching against the seat to press a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth.
Bakugou looks at you with a smirk, reaching towards you for a real kiss as he continues to drive. You can tell you’re in comfortable clothes, ointment on any potentially worrisome wounds he had inflicted on you while wrapped up in your twisted fantasy of yours.
“Nice to see you up,” he gruffs, his voice rough from his overuse in the bank.
“Did we get it?” you ask, head pressing to his shoulder, and with a chuckle, he raised the black USB.
“Damn fucking right we did, y/n.”
“Perfect.”
It goes without saying that despite the sheer brilliance of Bakugou’s work as Ground Zero, he would have never pulled off such crimes without you. His pretty, small girlfriend, who always played a victim of his lust at his operations just for good measure. It was a fun life both of you lived.
You looked at the expensive Cartier watch on your wrist, a beautiful gift he had gotten you after your first successive robbery. It had also been programmed for you to communicate with Bakugou on how many guards there were on the floor.
“I love you.”
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arrière-pensée: a concealed thought or intention; an ulterior motive.
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Sensei // Gojo Satoru x Reader
-> Satoru and you haven’t seen each other since you graduated from the academy. But somehow he never really left your mind. What happens now that you are a strong and confident exorcist and that your sensei finally notice you ?
Tags: Takes place during the school tournament but is canon divergent, Smut, age gap but the reader is in their early 20s, gender neutral reader and use of the pronouns they/them, voyeurism, sex without protection, Use of the word slut, SENSEI KINK, mention of fight, murder and injuries, the reader wears an eyepatch cause it’s cool, Gojo POV, mutual pinning.
Satoru liked his life as it was. His job as a teacher was great, not too complicated and allowed him to stay close to the higher ups. In the end, it was not too demanding and in the exception of watching over Itadori just to make Sukuna wasn’t wilding out, it was pretty chill. He liked that. Since his graduation he had chose to live his life without worrying too much. There was not a lot of things that could hurt him, he knew how powerful he was, so all he had to worry about was literally insignificant. He was just being his real playful self, most people deemed him childish, and he kinda was. In the end everyone kept in their mind that he was the most powerful sorcerer out there. It wasn’t ego, he was just being self aware. Even in more trivial thing, nature had made it easy for him. Women were often falling into his arms without him doing anything. His easy going personality was just a bonus. He was just having fun, not wanting to engage in any type of serious relationship that was obviously not compatible with his lifestyle. He wasn’t an idiot, having a significant other meant exposing himself to pain and offering to his enemies a way of pressure. It was already difficult enough with his students, he was not sure he’ll be able to protect someone else at all time. And there was no way he would let go of his job. In the end even for his good looks, not a lot of people would be willing to risk their life. Or maybe it was just the fact that he had the reputation of being a player and that no one was willing to be used. This morning he woke up tired, the night before he has been forced to go on a special mission before the beginning of the tournament between Tokyo’s college and Kyoto’s one. The students were all here now, and ready to begin. Several teacher were sitting in front of the screens that would allow them to follow the different students. He recognized everyone, even the old Yoshinobu Gakuganji, that he preferred to see in the same room. He didn’t trust the old men and he already knew he was up to something. He settled down looking around him waiting for the beginning of the first trial.Until he saw you. You were entering the room, looking in front of you. Your face was familiar but he couldn’t really tell where he knew you from. You were wearing a black uniform characteristic of the jujutsu sorcerer. You stoped in front of Iori, greeting her. The woman seemed to know you as she simply smiled and offered you a sit next to her. You looked around, your eyes falling on him, and you simply nodded your head in his direction.
“Hello Gojo sensei”
This voice. Yeah he definitely knew you.
“ Well hello -
-Y/n Y/l/n”
Yeah he remembered you now. You went to Tokyo’s academy, but you were a few years younger than him. He had already graduated a few years before and was starting to be a teacher when you integrated the school. You were so young back then, sixteen maybe, now you looked so mature. Beautiful truly. Even with the eye patch hiding your left eye, he could see how beautiful you were. He simply smiled, nodding.
“Long time no see Y/n.
- Indeed”
You did not say anything else simply sitting down, Iori was looking angry, and started grumbling at you, probably asking where you knew him from. You simply looked at her, not having the time to say anything as the screens light up. Satoru did not realized right away, but turning around he saw the old Gakuganji looking at you, a dark look in his eyes. You did not even look in his direction. Something was up between you two for sure. The trials began and soon Satoru realized something was wrong. That old sneaky bastard had definitely ask his student to kill Itadori. He sighed, frustrated but not surprised. You on the other hand seemed way more bothered by the idea.
“ Why does it feel like a set up to me?”
Iori tensed next to you but no one answered. You didn’t say anything else. Satoru couldn’t help but wonder why you came here. Indeed the tournament was an interesting thing to watch but you were not a teacher, or at least not that he knew of. What were you doing here, sweet, innocent y/n. You couldn’t possibly be one of the guard dog of the higher ups.
“Megumi is for sure very impressive.
-You know him? asked Iori
-I worked with his dad once. They don’t seem to have much in common at first but...
-You know Toji Fushiguro ?”asked Gojo suddenly sitting up straight on his chair
“I met him once, I wish I did not tho
-He tends to do this to people”
Your conversation was cut off by a noise and a flash of smoke. The red parchment that were stuck on the wall had caught on fire.
“What’s happening?
-The trials are already over?
-No, something is wrong.
-Apparently, some curses came uninvited”
You stood up, visibly not phased by this. What were you hiding?
“ We should go, at least rescue the students. If the curses are too powerful they won’t stand a chance.”
They split in several groups, and they started to run, hopefully joining their students before it was too late. Sadly nothing happened like Satoru imagined. First, a sort of black veiled recovered the place of the tournament. The more frustrating was that everyone seemed to be able to cross it except for him. Satoru find himself stuck outside unable to do anything. Behind his smile, he was worried. Was he really going to send Iori and the old man in this situation alone. And you. What about you. You did not seemed phased one bit by the situation, but he couldn’t help but wonder if you were not going to be more of a burden. After all you still were young. But he couldn’t tell you to stay back, and if you were here it was because you were qualified to do your job. The three of you disappeared behind the veil. It wasn’t often he felt helpless but right now he definitely did. After several minutes later he saw Panda come from behind the veil, Megumi in one arm, and Maki in the other. They were both severely injured but their life was not threatened now that they were being taken care of. Soon after Nishimiya carrying Noriyoshi and Inumaki flied through the veil, almost crashing on the ground. Being the only one still conscious, Nishimiya told him how she saw Itadori and Todo fighting a grade s curse when she was flying away. The more Satoru was thinking about it the more it sounded fishy. But he didn’t even had the time to thing this through before the veil disappeared. The old man was standing there with what seemed to be the corpse of man.
“They ran to see if they could find the two other brats. Go and see how they are doing.”
Satoru didn’t even wait for him to finish his sentence and started running. He felt a burst of cursed energy and decided he should check it out. He arrived to see Itadori and Todo hurt, Iori trying to help them stand up.
“Where is the curse ?”
Iori gasped, face suddenly tensed. She looked scared. She simply pointed at the empty air. It has been dealt with apparently. But you weren’t here.
“Where is Y/n?
-They left. They ran in this direction.
-Everyone is already out” he threw his phone at her, “call the old man or one of your student so they can help you with those two.”
He had to find you. He took him a couple of minutes to catch up on you, you had not got that far. You seemed completely normal, not even a micro injury. The only thing was that your right sleeve had been torned exposing your arm. You turned around facing him. You did not say anything just walking toward him. There was no trace of another curse. He was going to ask you what happened when you lifted your arm silencing him. Your phone buzzed in you pocket.
“Hello sir.”
He could not hear what was being said on the other side. But he could easily guessed it was one of your superior.
“The curse has been eliminated. It was a grade s. The students are safe, and the ones that are injured will be okay. Very well.”
You marked a pause, your eyes darting on his face, wondering if you could keep talking even though he was still here. He had no intention of going anywhere though.
“ Yes, Mahito escaped...”
You expression hardened.
“ I know... next time...”
You simply hanged up, finally turning to face Satoru.
“We can go, there’s nothing left here. They’re gone.”
He simply nodded.
“ I knew it was weird. Why would you even bother to come all this way to witness the tournament. I mean, it can be quite enjoyable but, you seem rather occupied.”
You didn’t say anything. You changed so much, what happened to joyful, cute Y/n, he wondered.
“ You were using the tournament as a way to attract Mahito ?
-No. I just knew he was gonna be here eventually.
-Why are you looking for him.
-Who isn’t looking for him at this point.
-Hmm, no, I feel like it’s personal.”
You clenched your jaw.
“He killed my team mates. Three months ago.”
Oh, that explained the dark energy coming out of you.
“So it is personal.
-You could say that”
You didn’t say a word, the weight of what you saw like a failure heavy on your shoulders. Satoru knew that better than anyone. The tournament was canceled and rescheduled. And weirdly enough, you did not left the academy at the same time as the Kyoto staff. You said your farewell to Iori and the students, returning later to your now assigned room. Satoru knew that if you were still here, it was because you had been assigned a new mission.
“You are still tagging along?”
You turned around, stopping your writing almost instantly. You might have been distracted because you did not hear him come in.
“Entering a someone’s room without authorization, sensei, it’s not reasonable.”
He couldn’t tell if you were serious or not. He couldn’t help if your room was next to his. He was curious.
“You are still calling me sensei? I am not your sensei anymore though.
-Officially no, but I am still learning while being here. But I can call you by your name if you prefer”
He actually liked when you called him sensei. He didn’t answer but you caught up pretty quick.
“Let’s stick with sensei then.”
He looked at you over his glasses, scanning your body. You weren’t wearing your uniform but a simple casual outfit. You looked cute. Your face scrunched in an adorable expression as you were concentrating on what you were writing.
“ What are you writing? A love letter to your boyfriend?”
He could almost hear you sight. He smiled, getting comfortable on your bed.
“ I am writing a report.
-About what?
-What happened during the tournament.
-Mahito?
-You could say that.
-Y/n. Could you do something for me?
-Depends.
-If you could not mention in your report what happened between the Kyoto college and Itadori, it would really be nice.
-I don’t understand why you would not want the higher ups to not know that people of our organization are trying to kill a sixteen year old.
-It’s because you are still naive Y/n”
You turned around, visibly angry.
“I am not stupid. I know what they would do to Itadori if they could. I didn’t mentioned the incident in my report.”
He smiled, getting up, getting closer to you.
“ Good” he almost whispered in your ear. He could see your face heat up, but you stayed calm.
“Are you done? Or do you doubt me so much, you want to read my report too.
-I think about you a lot, but not once I’ve doubt you. I don’t know what you did to that curse in front of Itadori but he won’t even talk to me about it”
You smirked.
“Good.”
Satoru’s head was just full of you now. He just couldn’t help it. You were basically living together at this point. Even if he was busy training the first year and mostly Itadori, he was still seeing you from the corner of his eyes. You seemed interested in Itadori’s training, maybe secretly hoping for Sukuna to manifest. You did not seem to care though. You weren’t avoiding him, but you paid him no mind. He saw you multiple times laughing with Itadori, Nobara or Megumi. He even saw you leave with Nanami one evening. You came back late at night, drunk.
“Do you even have the required age to drink?”he asked a disapproving tone in his voice.
“Yes I do... How old do you think I am....
-You’re younger than Nanami, so what were you even doing outside with him”
You pouted, your arm crossing over your chest. Fuck, you were so cute. And you looked so pretty like this. Your hair were kinda messy, your visible eye gleaming. Your lips, fuck, it was kinda hard not to stare at them. Maybe he should be the one going outside, he seemed to need it.
“He just took me out to drink nothing else. And you shouldn’t even talk. That so hypocritical.
-What have I done ?
-You slept with at least three of my friend from graduation”
Ah.
“So I don’t want to here anything else from you”
You sounded kinda angry now. But he couldn’t take you seriously right now. Not when you looked like a angry little kitten.
“I’m going to sleep”
He watched you go, your steps uncertain.
“Y/n, love, your room is the other way.”
You stoped in your track, looking at him, lost.
“I know. I was just playing”
Yes, so cute. He chuckled, deciding to escort you to your room just to make sure.
“Is this because of your friends that you are avoiding me love.
-Yes.
-Why? I didn’t do anything wrong to them? Did I?
-No, but I don’t want to end up sleeping with you”
Ouch, okay.
“After, you’re gonna break my heart and ghost me. No way.”
You arrived in front of your room.
“I would never do that to you love, so, would you go out with me?
-No
-You’re just being a brat right now”
You laughed at him before opening your door.
“Good night Gojo Sensei”
This night signed the beginning of a real nightmare for him. You did not mentioned anything from this night to him after it happened. But fuck he wanted you so much. He felt bad about it, you being so young, he felt like he was going to corrupt you or something. He did not felt like this with any of your friend or his previous one night stands. So why with you? Maybe because he knew you since you were young. You weren’t especially close, you were often with people your age and he was on his side with the other teachers. But now you were an adult, and for what seemed a very strong sorcerer. Sometimes, he was wondering what was happening in his head, when he was taking decisions. Like when he chose to invite a girl over, while you where here, when all he could think about was you. He was doing this to provoke you, or maybe he was just dumb. Fucking her against the wall that was just next to yours was maybe a bit too much, but he still did it somehow. He was sick for this. You on the other side, you wanted to cry and throw yourself through the window. Fuck you could even hear him groan behind all the sound the girl was doing. How thin were those walls? You grabbed your earphones, trying to cancel the noises, but your mind was still full of Satoru. For years you had promise yourself that you won’t be like every other person that had met him. You would never fall in love with him, or want to sleep with him. So why was your heart aching because he was currently fucking someone else. And why you could feel arousal pooling in your belly, your thighs rubbing against one another. You would never do that. Touch yourself. Like this. No. You were better than that.
“Ah fuck...” you heard him moan from the other side.
In the end you were just a weak little human. And soon your hand find the way of your underwear, finally touching the most sensitive place of your body. You were just imagining him in top of you, he would fuck you so good, so full. You could almost feel his weight on your body, his skin against yours. You wished you could say it was the first time you had imagine something like this. But it really wasn’t. Satoru has been haunting your darkest fantasy for a while now, fed now by all the story you’ve heard from your friends.
“Ah fuck, love, do you hear me?”
You stopped breathing, your fingers stopping what they were doing.
“ Fuck love, you look so fucking pretty, spread yourself more for me”
You were so dumb for doing this but you still did, spreading your legs wider, giving yourself a better access.
“ I’m sure you taste so sweet, fuck, if only I could taste you.”
Your fingers were becoming more erratic, pleasure and tension building up between your legs.
“Are you gonna cum love?
-Yes” you cried, your face burning from embarrassment.
You prayed all the gods above that they couldn’t hear you.
“Yeah you’re gonna come for me. So fucking pretty, ah-”
You cried out, the coil in your stomach snapping, your juice flooding out.
“Gojo sensei” you moaned, maybe a bit too loud.
You hear him moan from the other side of the wall, probably reaching his end too. The only thing left of you was exhaustion, sadness and a bit of disgust. You just wanted to sleep. The next day Satoru woke up a bitter sweet taste in his mouth. What happened during the night, he could not explain it. But fuck, he heard you, and he knew you heard him. He hope you knew that every words he said were meant for you. That it was your face that flashed through his mind when he came that night. He find you in the common room, speaking to Itadori, the boy looking a bit down.
“Are you really leaving us soon?
-Yes I already overstepped my boundaries with staying that long. Obviously Mahito is not going to come back any time soon.
-We’ll miss you Y/n!”
You were leaving? It was logical after all. You could not stay here forever. Why did it make him a little bit sad then?
“Leaving already?”
You turned you head toward him, soon avoiding his gaze. He smiled.
“I have to go back to the headquarters as soon as I can. I am leaving for the south tomorrow.
-I see”
You next told everyone that you will go to Tokyo this afternoon because you wanted to buy some stuff before leaving. The first year almost jumped you, begging you to take them with you. Or at least Itadori and Nobara did.
“Kids, Y/n probably wants to spend time alone.
-No it’s fine they can come with me.
-It won’t bother you if I come too then”
Your head lowered, visibly embarrassed. But you didn’t say anything about it. You left to get ready, changing your uniform for some casual clothes, and Satoru thanked all the gods for this. You looked adorable. Your black eyepatch was replaced by a white simpler one, you were wearing a cute outfit, suddenly you were looking more your age.
“Let’s go then”
You stayed silent for most of the trip. Itadori and Nobara were so happy to go out you almost lost them twice in the crowd. Megumi was walking calmly behind them, looking after the two. You stoped a few times to look at some street food, and Satoru couldn’t help but think of this as a kind of date. If only he could hold your hand in his while you strolled through harajuku.
“They look good, don’t they?
Hm, they do, the one with strawberries look really tasty”
He got closer from, his tall form hovering your body. Your back was pressed against his torso and he could feel you tense a bit. He smirked, getting closer, pressing himself against your ass even more. You gasped.
“We’ll take two of the strawberry ones please!” He said smiling, your head shooting up to look at him.
“Sensei...
-Come on Y/n, let me spoil you a bit”
You didn’t say anything else, just pouting looking away from him.
“Their whip cream tastes so good.
-Yes this place is great. There is a mochi place not far away, it’s great too!
-Do you have a sweet tooth sensei?
-I always loved what was sweet”
You snickered a bit not saying anything. You all kept walking for a bit finally deciding to go back to the academy. You were laughing and the mood had obviously lighten up even if you were still distant.
“Did you have a good time ?
-Yes thank you. I’m happy I could have a little break before going back to mission.
-Where are they sending you?
-In China. Mahito is only the tip of the iceberg. Me and several other shaman are sent to hopefully learn some things about the curses there.
-Seems risky.
-It definitely is. I don’t want to be paranoid but I have a feeling they want to maybe silence some of us.
-Oh so you are aware of that.
-I’ve been working for them since I was seventeen. I am well aware of their methods. Mahito might have killed most of my team mates, but we were not supposed to face someone as powerful. At least not when I wasn’t here.
-They got you separated from the group for a while?
-Basically yeah, when I came back most of them were dead, the other quite the job.
-And you still are going to follow their orders?
-I don’t really have a choice. I don’t feel like becoming a target of their wrath” you turned around to face him, “I am not like you”
He took off his blindfold, his eyes falling on your soft face. You gasped a little, almost dropping your ice cream. He came closer, bending his neck a little to look into your eyes.
“Don’t die.
-I don’t plan to.
-Good”
If you ended up dying, maybe he would go and have a little discussion with the so called higher ups of the sorcerer society. He knew you were strong, stronger than most, the way you got rid of the s class curse was still a mystery to him, but he knew that those bastards had very efficient way to get rid of people they deemed too dangerous. If only you could stay here.
“ But you know, if I end up dying there, could you do something for me before.”
He quirked an eyebrow, suspicious.
“Sensei”
His breathing became a little bit more rigged.
“Sensei, could you help me with something?
-Yes, of course”
He didn’t even need to know what you were asking him. He would basically do anything for you at this point. Really everything. You grabbed his shirt, asking him to bend over, his face coming at your level.
“ Sensei, I didn’t even tell you what I wanted yet...
-And what do you want?
-I want you”
He almost chocked on air. He could definitely give this to you.
“You can have me whenever you want love, fuck, you don’t even have to ask.”
He almost ran through the wall while returning to your room. It was empty when he came in. You really were going to leave. He did not have time to think more about it before you jump in his arm, your legs wrapped around his waist.
“ I caught you baby”, he chuckled, “Now, what do you want me to do?”
Your mouth was so close from his, you breath hitting his lips.
“ Tell me sensei, do you like being teased?
-Not really baby
-Me either, but last time, a guy I liked thought it was a good idea to make me know he was fucking someone else.
-This guy is a meanie
-He really is. I was waiting in my room, if he wanted he could have take me. Because I was waiting for him you know
-Oh really?”
You little minx, you were playing with him.
“I had to touch myself all alone in my room you know”
Yeah he was definitely hard now. He dropped you a little lower, your ass pressing against his clothed cock.
“ Sensei, I said no teasing...
-You’re right, no more teasing.”
He let you fall into the bed, laughing a little at your surprised expression. If you didn’t like being teased he wasn’t gonna waste more time. He grabbed your chin firmly in his hand squeezing your cheeks. You looked at him, your hands hesitantly reaching for his blindfold .
“Do it”
You hooked your thumbs under the fabric, slowly taking it off. He saw you eyes widen a little, lips parting slightly. You had already seen him without his blindfold but it seemed so much more intimate now. His beautiful white hair fell on his forehead, azure eyes opening to stare directly into your own.
“My turn”
His hand slide along your cheek, taking of your eye patch. A little scar was crossing your eyelid.
“So pretty” he said smirking, his lips hovering over yours.
You obviously weren’t very patient. The moment he was getting closer, you bite his lower lip, sucking it gently. He could feel your teeth sink into his flesh. You were going to be the death of him. He grabbed your hair firmly, capturing your lips in a feverish kiss. Your thighs were parted, his slander hips placed perfectly between them. You tasted so sweet, the taste of ice cream still lingering on your tongue. His favorite dessert truly. He could have kept kissing you forever if he didn’t felt you moving under him, your hips rolling against his crotch. He could feel how much you wanted this. He grabbed your wrist pinning your arms to the mattress. He had no doubt that you were a strong sorcerer but what could you even do against him.
“You want this so bad, you’re starting to behave like a slut.
-I can’t wait anymore. I’ve wait for this for so long.
-Did you?
-Yeah” you moaned shamelessly when he rocked his hips forward. You cried out his name, eyebrows furrowing. He had all the intentions in the world of driving you crazy, teasing you to no ends. But seeing you like this. His poor baby. He wasn’t going to be cruel. Not a lot that is. He let his hands caress your body, watching how you seem to squirm under his touch. You looked so sensitive.
“I’m gonna be nice with you love, but you have to be honest with me.
-W-what? I’d do anything....
-Of course you would.”
He bit your skin near your hip, leaving a mark there. Trailing his way down until he reaches your underwear. He was almost salivating at the view. If your mouth has tasted sweet, he couldn’t wait to taste you more. He spread your legs wider, holding your thighs firmly. His tongue darted out of his mouth, finally touching your flesh. You were so wet, your smell so much stronger there. He saw your hands clapping against your mouth, a little noise escaping you.
“Now you’re gonna have to tell me the truth baby. Do you want me?
-So much! I really want you sensei!
-Since when have you think of me like this?” You looked up to him, your eyes widened in shock and embarrassment.
“Since... We met maybe....
-So fucking naughty... Tell me more....
-Sensei... I wanted you so much back then but you weren’t even looking at me, fuck it feels so good...” He had started sucking at your flesh, toying with the most sensitive part of your body. You were squirming against his touch, but the little noises you were letting out were so sinful.
“I did so many things so you would notice me, haaa, but you didn’t... I know I had to become stronger.
-And now here you are baby, you’ve become so strong, and so good at pretending you don’t want me. I almost believed you in the beginning.”
Knowing that you had fantasied about this since you met him was having an effect on him he should be ashamed of. Your silly little crush on him, and all the thing you probably had thought about in your young mind full of hormones, it was really all he needed to lose all control. His fingers were now trusting deep and fast inside you. You were crying incoherent things, mixes of his name and pleads for more. He was addicted to you, he could stay like this, his mouth and fingers buried deep in your dripping hole, forever. Watching you cum for the second or third time as he laughed at you. He almost forgot how hard it had made him.
“Satoru...
-No more sensei?” he slapped you ass, “don’t be rude with your superior Y/n.
-Please just, more...
-Use your words baby”He was smirking, so cocky about the mess he had made of you.
“Your cock please....”
You didn’t even had to ask him twice. He probably would have made you beg for it if he wasn’t so drunk in you. He unzipped his pants, freeing his member. He was so hard, it was painful. He was so caught up in his thoughts he did not see your hand coming closer. He jolted, tensing, a little growl almost escaping his mouth, when you took his cock in your hand.
“Fuck, Y/n, don’t sneak on me like that...
-You’re so hard sensei...
-Yeah baby, it’s because of you, you made sensei like this...
-Can I taste you, I want you in my mouth”, you proceed to stick your tongue out, a bit of saliva dripping from it. You were gonna kill him. He wanted nothing more than to fuck your face. But right now all his thoughts were on your slutty little hole. Definitely later. He grabbed your legs, making you fell back into the mattress. He bent your legs, your upper thighs pressed against your chest. You were so exposed. He couldn’t wait any longer, his hips rocking forward, his cock entering you mercilessly. You gasped, air leaving your lungs. He felt so big inside you, so hard and heavy.
“You’re literally creaming around me already, are you gonna cum?”
He was smiling, but inside he was screaming . Why were you still so tight. So fucking warm, your slimy walls were sucking him in. He knew now, that he could stay buried balls deep inside you forever. He pressed his hips even more against you, his hips trusting hard against you. The noise of your juices and skin clapping against one another was obscene, but so addictive. He was hitting so deep, from this angle, rubbing against your walls. He grabbed your arms, letting your legs go. You were now sitting on his lap, chest pressed against his. The change of angle had made you moan even louder. It felt so much more intimate for some reason. His grip on your ass forcing you to impale yourself on his member. You were going to cum. You felt it, deep inside.
“Cum for me baby.”
You didn’t need anything else, as you press your forehead on his neck, moaning his name your body trembling against his. You felt him tense against you, his pace getting quicker and deeper. You were crying from overstimulation when he finally cum inside you, growling in you ear. You fell limb in his arms, empty of your energy. Satoru kissed you before laying you down on your bed. You grabbed his hand, bringing it to your mouth. You kissed his knuckles gently. His heart swell at that, not wanting to leave your side. That was how he find himself staying all night with you. You woke him up again a few hours later, you were looking all hot and bothered again. How could he say no to his baby. You spent the night like this, between cuddling and sleeping.
That’s why he was so surprised to see you weren’t there when he woke up. He had forgot you were supposed to leave early in the morning. He stood up, understanding how empty the room now felt. He walked toward the desk where his clothes had been folded. He took the little piece of paper, realizing you probably had left it here for him. He laughed, reading it. He knew you were strong. He just had to wait a little bit for you to come back. He knew you would.
#jujutsu Kaisen#jujutsu kaisen imagine#jujutsu kaisen fanfiction#jujutsu kaisen one shot#jjk#Gojo Satoru#gojo Satoru x reader#gojo x reader#gojo sensei#jujutsu kaisen gojo#gojou satoru x reader#gojo x y/n#gojo smut#jjk gojo
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Need You
BTS AU: 8th member
Sumi x BTS
Sometimes Jungkook does need a big sister to step in
A/N: sorry this is so late! Check out my PATREON (patreon.com/kllamallama) for exclusive content. This post was available a month ago for those on my patreon.
Requests are OPEN.Masterlist and other Follow Me links in bio!
“What the hell is going on?” Sumi asked, coming to stand next to Hobi.
He just shrugged, pointing at the monitor. “I don’t know. The staff have been off all day and they’re screwing up Jungkook’s rehearsal now.”
Sumi studied the monitor. It was their run-through for their online concert tomorrow, and they were supposed to working through all of the kinks so that it would run perfectly. However, the staff had been all over the place. The sound was off, they were playing the wrong tracks at times, the lighting wasn’t working and they kept having to reset, and altogether they didn’t seem to have any idea what they were doing.
Sumi’s own solo rehearsal had been interrupted as the camera crew had to keep resetting to figure out their path for following her on stage. Normally she would have expressed her concern about it, but she knew that Namjoon had been speaking to their managers all day. This was their first concert in far too long, so she decided to just let the kinks work themselves out.
Jungkook’s solo stage involved some intense choreography, and it looked like he was dealing with a few distinct problems. The first was the same as Sumi’s issue from earlier: the camera crew getting way too close during the dance, stepping into the path of the choreography and just generally getting in the way.
The second had to do with the floor. The changing sets had to be built to be set up and broken down very quickly, and Jungkook’s involved a mirrored floor. However, it didn’t look like it was well secured to the stage and was shifting beneath him, throwing his moves off balance.
“What is wrong with them?” Sumi shook her head. “Is this a new crew?”
Hobi pursed his lips and nodded. “The tech crew is. Supposedly they’re more qualified for this whole online format.”
Sumi snorted. “Sure they are.”
Jungkook’s set finished, and he walked right over the stage director, an angry look in his eye.
“Where’s Joon?” Sumi asked.
“Makeup, I think.”
Sumi sighed. “Then I guess that’s on me.”
She walked out from back stage, heading towards where Jungkook was being mopped off by a staff member as he exchanged heated words with the stage director, who was gesturing angrily around him.
She was back on friendly terms with Jungkook, but there was absolutely still a wall between them that hadn’t been there before. She’d done her best to avoid any situations that involved confrontation, emotion, or anything else that could cause another argument. To be completely honest, even though they’d mostly worked through it, she still didn’t know where she stood with him. It was hard to throw away so many years of her constantly being involved in his life. Whether it was healthy for them to have some separation or not, it was still strange.
“It’s dangerous!” Jungkook was saying. “Someone’s going to get hurt.”
“You were aware of the set up, you should have been more prepared for it.” The stage director argued.
“What seems to be the problem, boys?” Sumi pulled her pink fluffy sweater closer around her shoulders as she stepped up to the confrontation.
Jungkook looked away from the director, and she could see from how he clenched his jaw just how angry he was.
“Nothing.” The stage director said. “We’re moving onto the next rehearsal.”
“Someone is going to get hurt!” Jungkook was close to shouting. “If your crew keeps getting in the way and the stage is screwed up, we’re going to-“
“Let me run that, and you focus on dancing, okay?” The director said condescendingly, clearly trying to dismiss them.
“Hold on.” Sumi held up a hand to stop him from moving away. “We’re the one’s who are responsible if us or our dancers get hurt.”
“Then try not to fall.” The director leaned down to speak right into her face.
Sumi scoffed, unable to believe what she was hearing.
“You should get back to hair and makeup, I think you’re going to need a lot of work.” The director smirked.
“Yah.” Jungkook stepped forward. “Don’t talk to her like that.”
“Don’t worry, Jungkook.” Sumi tilted her head. “This idiot just hasn’t realized that we control his paycheck yet.”
“Idols don’t control my paycheck. I work for your company, not for you.” The director shook his head. “Don’t get arrogant.”
“No, you try not to get arrogant. The company controls your paycheck? How much of that company do you think we own? If you want to play that game, go ahead. Maybe this show sucks because you’re too lazy to figure out your job, but all we have to do is say the word and you’ll never get hired for a major event again.” She gave him a smirk of her own.
“I…you…” He sputtered.
“Got it?” Sumi smiled. “Good. Now, you might want to think about taking my groupmate’s concerns a little more seriously.”
“You…”
Sumi glanced at Jungkook and winked. “Shout if you need me. I’ll be eating noodles.”
Jungkook just gave her a knowing smile, before crossing his arms and turning back to the director.
Thirty minutes later, Jungkook found Sumi in a rolling chair, legs up on a table and bowl of noodles in her hands.
“Noona.” He said in greeting.
“Kookie.” She lifted her chopsticks. “Rehearsal over?”
“Yeah.” He sat down on the table, looking down at her as she took a bite of noodles.
“Problem solved?” She asked, her mouth full.
“Like clockwork. I think he’s going to have nightmares about you.” He grinned.
“I love that.” She laughed. “It’s for the best, anyways. If you got hurt because of his idiocy I’d have to beat the-“
“Noona?”
“Right. This is the new, chill Sumi.” She giggled. “Hungry?”
“Just a bite.” He leaned down, opening his mouth as she lifted the chopsticks. She blew on the noodles to cool them down before he took a bite.
He chewed for a few seconds, leaving the two of them in silence as she took her own bite.
“You still do that.” He said quietly.
“Do what? Eat noodles?” She wiped some broth off her face.
“No,” He laughed. “Blow on my food if you think it’s too hot.”
Sumi froze, lowing the bowl back to her lap. “Sorry. I don’t mean to.”
“Don’t mean to what?”
“To be all…weird. I’m not your mom.”
“No, you’re not.” Jungkook nudged her leg with his hand. “But I don’t think you’re ever going to stop being my big sister.”
“I thought you hated it.” Her eyes widened.
“I hated when you treated me like a child. I’m okay with this.”
“You are?”
“Yeah, of course.” He smiled, the same smile he’d given her every single time she handed him a school lunch, or tied his tie, or fixed his hair before a performance. “Sometimes I need my noona, and sometimes I need to deal with things for myself. I think we’re both getting better at realizing when.”
“I think so too.” Sumi smiled. “So…you don’t want me to beat up the director?”
“Not until after the performance.” He winked.
“Yes, sir.” She collected more noodles and held them up to him. “Eat up, you’re getting too skinny.”
“Kay.”
#bts#bts au#bts imagines#bts 8th member#female kpop#female!kpop#female member kpop#requests open#au#kpop#imagines#imagine#kpop au#kpop imagines#kpop imagine
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@rvspberryjvm wanted finger kink, so he gets finger kink with a little breathplay in the form of Terry/Johnny.
Tbh I'm not sure this qualifies as finger kink? Not even sure this is sexy but I tried and I felt evil and cackled writing it so that's enough for me for now :3
The thing about Terry Silver is that his hands don't seem like they should belong to him until you realize there's no other hands he could have.
Not that Johnny spends a lot of time thinking about Terry's hands. Of course not. It's just hard to not give them at least a passing thought when Terry likes putting them all over him.
"Where's your head at, pretty boy?" Fingers curl in Johnny's hair and pull his head back, and he bites his lip to keep from making a sound. He's already being fucked on all fours and clearly into it; he doesn't need to give Terry another reason to feel smug. Above and behind him, the man in question lets out an amused sound.
"You know I like it when I can hear you," he says. Johnny doesn't bother to open his mouth, because he knows what Terry also likes; a few seconds later Terry's other hand lets go of his hip and reaches forward to grasp his jaw instead, forcing it open. The moan Johnny lets out is definitely a sound he's heard from himself often since starting this thing with Terry, but it doesn't make it any less embarrassing.
A hoarse whisper in his ear: "That's right, there's my good boy," before his hair is let go, the fingers on his jaw tightening as if to make up for the small mercy. Their grasp loosens for just a second, but only so Terry can shove two of them in Johnny's mouth, and Johnny can't help himself: he starts sucking.
Because when Johnny had first shaken hands with Terry, he had been surprised. The man had stocky hands, not at all elegant, but his long fingers curled around Johnny's hand like they could envelop it if Terry willed it so. No calluses, but not really smooth either. Not a working man's hands, but not the prissy lotioned up things Johnny would expect from a man who dressed to the nines either.
From there he couldn't help but notice them, and Terry clearly caught on, because he took every opportunity to brush a hand on Johnny's arm, fix his collar condescendingly, even ruffle his hair once or twice while Daniel seethed somewhere behind him.
And if he couldn't touch Johnny, Terry made sure to keep his hands front and center: twirling a pen, holding a coffee cup, patting down his ascot. It drove Johnny insane, until the day he decided to confront Terry after hours in the Cobra Kai dojo, and Terry had popped up out of the shadows and put him on his back from one second to the next. He had the gall to not even say anything, just grinned at Johnny, put a knee on his stomach, and proceeded to undo his own slacks with careful precision; fished his hard cock out and started stroking slowly with those long thick fingers while Johnny could do nothing but watch.
Terry came all over his fingers and all over Johnny's shirt, didn't even bother to clean up before standing up and tucking himself back into his slacks. "I'll be seeing you, Mr. Lawrence," he had said, grinning with all his teeth before turning away to walk into the office, his fingers still dripping with his own cum.
A primal, desperate part of Johnny thinks he's been trying to suck the taste from Terry's fingers ever since that night, begging for what he was denied even now that they've done more than just a one-sided jerk off session.
Terry forces another finger into the O of his mouth, just for a little bit, then wrenches his hand away so he can grab both of Johnny's hips as he fucks him faster. Johnny whimpers, and at this point he doesn't know if it's more from his mouth being suddenly emptied or from being fucked so hard. It hurts almost, but Johnny breathes and moans through it. He's not a pussy.
Besides, he knows if he takes it like Terry likes him to, Terry will reward him in turn.
It isn't long before Terry comes, draping himself all over Johnny's back and bites at the back of his neck, just below the fuzz of his hair. Johnny cries out, and Terry laughs shortly, still grinding into Johnny slowly, working his release in as far as it will go.
He pulls out and flips Johnny onto his back, making sure to keep his legs spread like Johnny's some blushing maiden who's going to get shy on him all of a sudden. Johnny doesn't really care; all he cares about is the pleased smile on Terry's face, the one that means not even a drop of cum has left Johnny's hole yet.
Terry leans over him and kisses him, soft and slow, muttering praise into his mouth while Johnny simultaneously tries not to melt under him and not hurry him along. Luckily for him, Terry must be feeling generous tonight, because he backs off after a few seconds and then slowly slides a finger into Johnny's hole, slides it out, and then slides back in with two.
Johnny throws his head back. This - this is what he likes, for Terry's fingers to reach deep inside him, stretch him out even after he's already taken dick, make him feel the bumps of his knuckles and the pads of his fingers as he gets all his cum out. A dick is almost too smooth for Johnny - something Terry picked up on fairly early into this thing of theirs, which is why they always do it like this. Terry gets to manhandle Johnny, come inside him, and then gets to move him around some more as Johnny gets what he came for.
And see, Johnny would feel ashamed, has felt ashamed, at how he wants to know that something foreign is in his body (none of that romance novel crap, where people fit their bodies together like two puzzle pieces. No. Johnny wants the uneven spread, the slight discomfort of several somethings moving within him). But it turns him on a little, to feel the slight humiliation, to know he's good for it as long as he can physically feel that it isn't supposed to be there.
Aside from that, nothing can really be more shameful than getting it on with your psycho former sensei's equally psychotic sugar daddy (benefactor, Daniel always insists, but Daniel is weirdly stuck up about anything to do with Terry Silver, though he won't explain why. Johnny gets a little thrill thinking that maybe Daniel noticed Terry's hands too, and is jealous.)
Terry's up to three fingers now, and Johnny wriggles from the oversensitivity, but clenches around him all the same. He wants to come, needs to come; a little pain is worth it. Terry laughs, at him not with him, and Johnny's face burns even before Terry slides a hand up his torso and pinches one of his nipples.
"Fuck," Johnny breathes out, then does it again, louder when Terry punches in with his spread out fingers and bites his other nipple at the same time.
He feels his cock throb, and God he's so so close, he can feel it, he just needs Terry to slide in a fourth finger, maybe even a fifth and he'll be good to go.
But of course Terry doesn't do that, because Terry's a sadistic bastard. Slowly, so Johnny knows exactly what's going to happen here, Terry slides his hand up to Johnny's throat and lets it rest there. Johnny's breath catches, and he feels tears spring into his eyes- tears he successfully withheld until now. That must be why Terry decided to do this.
The thing is, Terry likes seeing Johnny cry, and Johnny likes not giving him the satisfaction if he can help it. And in the end, Johnny can never help it, because if nothing else works, Terry will pull out his trump card.
The hand is still just there, not doing anything, even as Terry's other hand is busy between Johnny's legs. Johnny clears his throat, and still his voice comes out raspy as he whispers, "Please."
Please not this. Please do it. Please don't bring this here. Please replace his fingers with yours.
Terry licks his teeth, a predator playing with its food, and before Johnny can wonder for the millionth time how Terry Silver can make him feel like the prey animal he isn't, the hand squeezes at his throat, lightly at first and then tighter, tighter, tighter.
Johnny gasps for air, he can feel his face turning red, and he wants to claw at Terry's hand but he clenches the bedsheets instead, arching up into the hold and riding Terry's still moving fingers. No mercy, not even for yourself.
Terry laughs again, this time loud and delighted, and he pins Johnny with his gaze the way he's got his body pinned at two opposing points, and that's how Johnny comes, staring into wild eyes and sobbing from the intensity of it.
The fingers in him jab at him one last time, the fingers around his neck squeeze once more, before Terry pulls away and pats his thigh in a mockery of care, making sure to smear cum on it. "Good job, golden boy. I can always count on you for a good time." Johnny flushes, but still silently sends out thanks to whatever higher power there might be for Terry not pulling out the nickname during sex. It's happened before and Johnny always comes immediately, and that particular shame isn't one he really likes to visit.
He lies there, catching his breath, already knowing he's about to knock out, and he thinks that maybe next time he gets fucked like this, he wants to wake up to it already happening. Terry would like that, probably.
He very carefully doesn't think about how this thing between them was never meant for planning ahead.
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Every Breath You Take - Loki x Reader
Summary: Loki has been stalking you for weeks, and you have no idea why. One night, he decides to claim what is his.
Characters: Loki x female reader
Words: ~6300
PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS!!!
Warnings: Explicit smut, explicit language, stalking, dub-con and/or non-con smut (depending where you draw the line between those), breaking and entering, choking/breath play, fear kink, power dynamics, humiliation, praise kink, basically Loki being a dominant mother fucker
Author’s Note: Major song inspiration for this is “Every Breath You Take” by Devil + Winter. Yes, I know it’s a remake of an older song, but I looove that specific cover so much.
This might officially be my favorite oneshot I’ve written thus far, so I hope y’all enjoy!
Every Breath You Take
Glancing at the clock, you puffed out a breath at the late hour. It might be Friday, but you had refused to leave the office until all weekly projects were completed by their deadline, as well as a few extras that you wanted to finish ahead of schedule. You had snagged a government job, and there was no way in hell that you were going to slack off or cause anyone to second guess whether you were the most qualified choice.
Sending off an email to your supervisor with the attached completed work, you gave a triumphant grin before logging out of the computer system, grabbing your purse, and hightailing it for the elevators. Thoughts of a long, hot bath followed by curling up on the couch with delivery pizza and a sappy movie were beckoning, and after a week full of working early mornings and even later evenings, you deserved it.
Exiting the elevator and crossing the lobby, you waved and said goodnight to the evening security guard. He was unsurprised to see you leaving so late and wished you a good weekend. The sun had set hours ago, but the street was still semi-lit from the city lights, sections of darkness broken by circles of lamp light, car headlights, and the muted glow of lit windows.
And yet, he still managed to hide within the shadows.
You wouldn’t have even noticed, if it weren’t for the fact that he had been an unfailing constant lately. Each time you exited the office, even if it was just to run down the street to the nearest food truck, he was there. Standing right across the street from your work building, intense stare fixed in your direction, tonight was no exception.
The first time it had happened, you had been sure you were hallucinating. Especially because no one else seemed to notice the tall figure, pedestrians passing by with no acknowledgement. It was as if he didn’t allow anyone to see him. Just you.
Habit made you glance across the street again, and sure enough, the shadowed outline of his lean form was still waiting between the patches of light. It was as if he had molded them to his own benefit, wrapping the night around himself so that only the inhuman flicker of his eyes glinted at you out of the darkness.
Loki, the God of Mischief, had been silently stalking you for weeks. And you had absolutely no idea why.
Starting down the street, you felt his presence as a prickle on the back of your neck. He was there as you walked a block over to the bus stop, and it was only when you were safely on board and in a seat that the sensation disappeared. You breathed a heavy sigh of relief, knowing he was gone. The reprieve was short-lived, since you also knew that he’d already be there when you got home.
Sure enough, once the bus exited the city and stopped near your block, the sensation of being followed returned. You walked quickly up the front path of your suburban home, hands shaking slightly as they fit the key into the front door. He never came too close, never followed you across the threshold, but the idea that he could made your mouth run dry. Once you were inside with the door closed and deadbolted, you went around double checking all the windows and the back door. Yep, still locked.
Peeking out between the blinds in the living room, your eyes scanned the moonlit yard, looking for movement. You didn’t see any, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t out there, lurking. For the millionth time you contemplated reporting him, but also for the millionth time you had no idea who exactly to tell. It wasn’t like you were highly-ranked enough to have Mr. Fury or the Avengers on speed dial. And the police would think you were having a mental break, since it seemed as though Loki could cloak himself from being noticed, even when in the middle of a crowd.
You had just started working for S.H.I.E.L.D a couple of months ago, as a low-level data interpreter. To say you were at the bottom of the totem pole was accurate, but you were prepared to work hard to elevate yourself within the organization. Sure, you’d never be an actual agent or spy, but there were upper level positions within your department that would one day have your name on them. You weren’t about to jeopardize those possibilities by creating waves while still in your probationary period, especially since you doubted your by-the-book, no-nonsense supervisor would do anything other than laugh in your face if you tried to tell him that a friggin god had chosen to follow you around. Hell, even your own family would probably assume you were overworked and delusional.
Which meant that you were stuck dealing with the issue of Loki yourself...and so far your grand master plan had been trying to ignore him in the fervent hopes that he would get bored and leave you alone.
Though he was impossible to totally ignore, you had made some progress with not lying in bed awake all night, staring at the ceiling and fearing the moment he’d decide to come inside the house. You still did this for about half of the night, but hey, progress. When he had shown no interest in crossing that boundary, you wondered if you were supposed to feel more terrified at his lack of intent, or safe with the knowledge that he was lurking around the house like your own personal security system.
And while you had at first been too scared to leave the office for lunch knowing he was out there, after a week of huddling in your cubicle you had been furious with yourself. It had been a piss-poor day anyways, and you had barely made it to an 8am meeting on time thanks to forgetting to set your alarm the night before (probably because you had been too busy stressing over the god lurking outside). Deciding that enough was enough, you had walked outside with head held high, ready to march down the street to the nearby deli. He had been there, of course he had, piercing gaze immediately zeroed in on you the moment you exited the building’s doors.
Lack of sleep and frustration making you feel bold, you had actually stopped and glared black at him. It was the first time you had been assertive enough to acknowledge him without any visible fear, and you were damn proud of yourself.
That pride had quickly turned to ash when the corners of his mouth curved slowly upwards, lips parting to showcase a sadistic smirk that caused your heart to drop into your ass, legs doing a 180 and practically sprinting you back into the building. Turns out you hadn’t been that hungry, after all. You had left the office for lunch a few times since then, but always kept your eyes pointed down at the sidewalk, never daring to nonverbally challenge him again.
Now, after checking for the umpteenth time that all the blinds were closed, you went through with your evening plans, the hot bath relaxing tense muscles and greasy pizza filling your soul as much as your stomach. And when you crawled into bed a few hours later and drifted off to sleep, you almost forgot about the powerful god who was stalking your every move. Almost…
~ ~ ~
Startling awake a few hours later, you sat up in bed and grabbed for the bedside lamp, flicking it on. Eyes squinting at the sudden brightness, you scanned the room with a pounding heart, relief washing over you at seeing that the corners were empty. It was just a dream, you soothed. It wasn’t real…
Said dream had been filled with flashing green eyes, lips twisted into a cruel grin, and a large, powerful form pinning you to the bed.
Licking bone-dry lips, you got out of bed and headed down to the kitchen for a glass of water. You didn’t turn on any other lights, both because you knew the layout of the house well enough to navigate it in the dark, and in hopes that your movement wouldn’t alert a certain visitor who might still be in the vicinity.
The microwave clock showed that it was a little after 3am, which meant you had only gotten a couple hours of sleep before the raven-haired god had once again disrupted your life. There were enough windows with moonlight streaming in through the blinds that you had no trouble navigating the kitchen. Not wanting to open the fridge and risk him seeing the light, you grabbed a glass out of the cabinet and went over to the sink, glancing out the small window above it but seeing only an empty yard.
The glass was half full when you felt every hair on your body stand up in warning. All those blinds had been shut earlier. You had checked them multiple times before going to bed. Your eyes flew back up, breath catching in your throat at the sight. Only seconds ago the view of the yard had been empty, but now…
Loki was standing mere feet away, on the other side of the glass. Moonlight lit up his features, the pale unblemished skin giving off an eerie glow as his emerald eyes burned into you through what, suddenly, felt like a pathetic excuse of a barrier. Shock and fear made your suddenly shaky fingers loosen their grip on the fragile water glass, causing it to fall into the sink and shatter. The noise was like a gunshot to your frozen state; you jumped and screamed in alarm before realizing the sound wasn’t from the window. Eyes jerked down to the sink, where pieces of glass lay scattered and sparkling in the dim moonlight. When you looked back up again, Loki was gone.
Suddenly, a wave of anger flowed through you, heating your blood and overtaking the fear long enough for you to make what, looking back, was a really fucking stupid decision.
You were so done with his shit, done with living in constant hypervigilance and fear because some god had decided to play with you like a bug in a jar. Without allowing yourself to fully process the stupidity of what you were about to do, you went over to the back door, opened it, and stormed out onto the porch.
Breath puffing with adrenaline, you glanced to your right, where Loki had previously been standing. Instead, there was only empty air. This served to piss you off more, as it was obvious that he was just toying with you. Well, you were done with the games.
“Listen up, asshole!” you shrieked at the empty yard. “I don’t know what your problem is, but-” you cut off abruptly as logic finally caught up to anger. Your brain was frantically waving a big, red ‘this is a really stupid idea’ sign and telling you to get back inside.
The flames of rage quickly fizzled out, replaced by an icy wave of fear when the asshole in question suddenly appeared in the middle of the yard, seemingly out of thin air. He stood silent and still as the night, all-black Asgardian clothing molded to his tall and proud form so that he blended in with the shadows.
You felt, more than saw, his eyes trail slowly down over your body, expression unreadable in the dim moonlight. You were suddenly very aware that you were only wearing a lavender tank top and grey sleep shorts, bare toes curling against the cool wood of the porch. The sheer vulnerability of your situation kicked-started the flight response, and you took a slow step backwards, not wanting to lose sight of what your survival instinct classified as a wild and unpredictable predator.
The plan failed instantly when Loki burst forward, black cape fluttering out around his form as he strode across the yard. You weren’t sure if he looked more like a fallen angel or avenging demon, but the effect was enough to jolt your body into motion as you turned and sprinted for the still-open back door.
Crossing the threshold, you felt a small spark of relief, thinking how he never came inside, that you just needed to get the door closed and…
He hit the wood with such force that you were thrown into the kitchen, stumbling back against the opposite wall when he stepped inside. His gaze zeroed in on you as he lifted one booted foot and kicked the door shut.
The loud slam made you jump, vocal cords suddenly coming back online as you opened your mouth to scream. He moved so fast that you didn’t even have time to consider fleeing, his hand cutting off the scream before it even left your throat. He slammed you into the wall, his palm so large that it covered the entire bottom half of your face and effectively cut off your oxygen. His other arm caged you in, palm flat against the wall right beside your head, making you feel utterly trapped. Eyes widening with terror, you clawed at his hand, fighting to breathe. You might as well have been an insect trying to stop an incoming shoe with all the difference your struggles made.
“You will be silent. Attempt to scream again, and I will choke the life out of you. Understood?”
His low, dark voice made you shiver with fear, but you were so desperate for air that you would agree to almost anything at this point, and so nodded frantically up at him. His eyes narrowed for a few moments, as if assessing your reliability, before sliding his hand down so that it lightly encircled your throat and anchored you to the wall.
Gasping in blessed oxygen, you panted up at him with heaving breaths, eyes shifting back and forth as you tried, and failed, to come up with an escape plan. If you thought he had been intimidating from a distance these past few weeks, it was nothing compared to the vision of him up close. He practically buzzed with power as his lean, muscular frame towered over you, the ebony-clad chest and shoulders blocking any view of the kitchen and back door. The fingers at your throat flexed slightly in silent warning, as if he could read your thoughts and was reminding you that escape was futile.
You looked up at him, still in shock and trying to process the fact that a literal god was in your kitchen. And not just any god, but one who had terrorized your city, made a crowd kneel at his feet, and declared his intent to rule the planet. His arrogance was legendary, his powers terrifying. And you were so, so fucked.
Glancing up, you took in his face, semi-shadowed in the moonlit kitchen. Flawless porcelain skin showcased features sharp enough to cut glass, your eyes scanning over his sternly clenched jaw and lips pressed into a tight grimace. They gave off a coldness that sent a shiver down your spine, but then you looked up past his straight, regal nose and found the blazing heat of his gaze. He was watching you intently, those cruel lips curving up the slightest bit at your obvious perusal.
Horrified to have been caught staring, your eyes quickly lowered, taking in the expensive fabric that covered his tall, powerful body. You felt him bend down, every muscle tensed in fearful anticipation when his face stopped right beside your own. You could practically feel the effort he made to reign in his strength, the capability for violence coiled tightly right below the surface of his skin. Still too scared to lift your eyes, you heard as he slowly inhaled through his nose before exhaling through his mouth, so that warm breath ghosted over the side of your neck and caused goosebumps to erupt across your flesh.
Holy crap, had he just sniffed you?!
He gave a dark chuckle at the noticeable shudder that ran through your body in response to his actions. The hand at your throat moved up to tightly grip your chin, tipping it upwards until your eyes fluttered up as well and were ensnared by his gaze.
He was taking you in, noting your eyes dilated with fear and mouth slightly parted as your chest heaved to take in panicked breaths. He seemed to catalog all of your reactions with a piercing intelligence, as if storing away the knowledge for later.
“Do you fear me, human?”
The low, rumbled words shouldn’t have been enticing, but you’d be lying to deny the stirring low in your gut that resulted from his voice whispering in your ear. It actually took a few seconds for the question itself to filter through your brain. Unable to nod with his fingers still gripping your chin, you instead gave a soft, breathy, “Yes,” which caused him to smirk.
“Good girl.”
Okay, now that definitely caused a reaction, your body heating up at the mixture of fear and praise he provided. Dear god, what is wrong with you?! Scream, fight, do something!
As if he could read the thoughts in your gaze, he clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “Ah ah, little one. You’re not getting away until I allow it.”
Attempting one last ounce of bravery, you asked in a pleading voice, “Why are you doing this?”
His eyes lit up, as if he were impressed that you dared to question his motives. The fingers at your chin loosened slightly, his eyes watching as he moved a thumb slowly back and forth across your lower lip.
“This planet is exceedingly uninspiring, and I have found humans to be particularly boring. So I had to obtain entertainment in one form or another, didn’t I?”
Well that sure wasn’t the answer you had been expecting. All the weeks of following you around, scaring you to within an inch of your life as you tried to figure out what reasons he had for singling you out, and it was all because he was bored?
You were grateful to feel a spark of anger return at his callous response and utter disregard for what he had put you through these past weeks. Looking back later, you’d think that he had verbally poked at you on purpose, had wanted you to showcase a bit more fight to add to his entertainment of the situation.
Through gritted teeth, you said, “If we’re so boring, then why waste your time following me around?”
His fingers trailed back down over your throat, and for a moment you thought that your words had been a fatal mistake, that this was when he decided you weren’t worth the trouble and strangled you. Instead, his fingers flitted over the pulse in your neck, pausing there as if to measure its beating, before gliding further down and across your delicate collarbone.
“I said humans were boring.” The tips of his long, cool fingers slid underneath the right strap of your tank top, pushing it towards your shoulder. “I didn’t say that you were boring.”
Shocked into silence, you felt the fabric being dragged down over your arm, the neckline lowering with it so that the top swells of your breasts were visible. You felt like a rabbit caught in the hunter’s crosshairs, too scared to move outside the involuntary trembling that started in your knees and traveled up the length of your legs and torso.
“Please,” you whispered, staring up at him helplessly, beseeching him to let you go. Wanting this to all just be a dream in which he would suddenly disappear and you would wake up in your warm bed.
“Begging already?” he taunted. “But we’ve barely begun.”
With that, he grabbed the neckline of the tank top and yanked, the fabric no match for his inhuman strength as he literally tore it from your body. The cool air hitting your bare nipples was what thrust you into action, as you reached up to shove against his shoulders with all your might, hoping to make him stumble back long enough so that you could dart to the side and make a run for it.
Instead, you might as well have pushed against a stone wall, even the adrenaline-laced strength not making him retreat so much as an inch. The only reaction your action caused was him to huff out a dark laugh of amusement before he flung the tatters of the tank top to the side and leered down at your exposed flesh.
You watched, wide-eyed, as a large and surprisingly warm palm cupped your breast, testing the weight of it. The whimper that left your throat was purely out of fear, you told yourself, and had nothing to do with the sensation of him pinching your nipple between two of those slender and graceful, yet powerfully masculine, fingers.
“What delightful noises you make, pet. I’m eager to learn how many others I can wring from your lips.”
Oh god, this couldn’t be happening. The whole situation was too surreal, too overwhelming. Your brain couldn’t compute all the mixed signals it was getting from the rest of your body. Thighs trembled with fear and the desire to run, but your traitorous nipples were hard as stone, and not just from the chilly air.
Loki noticed as well, of course he did. He was a master of lies, and of reading them in others, so there was no way your body was going to fool him. A pleased look lit up his eyes, and the emerald blaze was too much, causing your own to squeeze tightly shut when he leaned in close.
The words were whispered from mere inches away, and they brought with them a pang of arousal that shocked you to the core. “Don’t fight it, girl. You were made to be ruled, to be owned. And I’m going to make you mine.”
You gave a little sob in response, but didn’t argue, didn’t struggle. Not even when the hand at your breast continued its pleasurable torment while his other hand left the wall to trail down over your ribs and waist until it met the top of your sleep shorts. The tips of his fingers hooked inside the fabric, and with one graceful movement he shoved both shorts and panties down over your hips, so that they fell in a pile at your feet and left your body completely bare.
“Step out of them,” he commanded, fingers dancing softly along your hip bone.
Frozen with indecision, your breath came in audible gasps as the mixture of fear, anxiety, and burgeoning desire made your head spin. The headstrong and independent mentality that was so self-ingrained insisted that you fight him to the very end. But there was another part of you, a hidden and previously unknown part, that wanted to do as he said. Wanted to give in and submit.
Before you could find out which side would win, the hand at your breasts leapt back up to your throat, the movement so quick that you barely had time to register it before your oxygen was cut off. Eyes flew back open in panic, but before you could even attempt to struggle, the long fingers of his other hand caught and held your wrists tightly together, effectively trapping you once again.
His face lowered directly in front of your own, his straight, white teeth bared as he snarled, “I said step. Out. Of. Them.”
At this point, you’d do just about anything he asked if it meant being able to breathe, and so obediently lifted first one foot and then the other out of the shorts and underwear. He used his own booted foot to shove the fabric so that it slid across the floor off to the side, but didn’t yet let up his grip on your throat.
Your vision was growing spotty from lack of oxygen as you choked and squirmed in his grip. He looked delighted at this, his gaze dropping down to watch your body’s involuntary twists and jerks before lifting back to your face.
“You’re a willful little human, I’ll give you that. But from now on, when I give an order, I expect you to obey. Do I make myself clear?”
You nodded desperately, and when that didn’t seem to satisfy him, sputtered out a barely audible, “Yes”.
“Sorry, pet, I didn’t quite catch that. Try again.”
Certain you were about to pass out, you put all remaining energy into gurgling out another attempt of the word. It must’ve been enough, because he whispered ‘good girl’ at the same time his grip loosened, allowing you to cough and gag as your lungs frantically filled with air.
His hand stayed in place this time, splayed across your throat in silent warning, as his other palm released your wrists, coasted down the front of your body and, without any hesitation, delved between your thighs. When you tried to close them, he used his own leg to wedge yours back open, pressing his erection into your hip and making it clear where this was heading.
Those cruel yet seductive fingertips ran along your slit before dipping into the humiliatingly apparent wetness and spreading it up to your clit. He gave a hum of male satisfaction at your pleasured gasp, exploring your body in a way that made both shame and desire heat your skin. The tip of his finger teased at your wet opening, barely dipping inside. Your hips bucked, and you didn’t know whether it was an attempt to get away or move closer.
His voice was more raspy than before, when he asked in a condescending tone, “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you, my pretty little girl?”
You hoped he didn’t notice the way your pussy clenched onto the tip of his finger when he called you ‘his’, but judging by his groan, he had.
Slow, achingly slow, he pushed his finger inside you, the long digit reaching places that your own hands never could. Your head fell back against the wall with a soft thud, baring your throat to him, as desire officially overtook the will to escape.
“Yes, that’s it,” he cooed, the thumb of his other hand tracing over the rapid pulse that beat in the side of your throat. “Show how you belong to me.”
His words should’ve scared you, and they did in a far-off and hazy kind of way, but you were more focused on how he was pushing a second finger inside you. He rubbed them with knowledgeable precision against the sensitive front wall, making you cry out when they found your g-spot. And when his thumb also started rubbing quick little circles on your clit, you decided that maybe belonging to him wasn’t such a bad thing, after all.
He continued that way, relentless, his breaths coming in heavy puffs against your cheek as he finger fucked you roughly until the tension between your thighs coiled into a tight spring of need. Whimpering, you dimly realized that your hands were grasping desperately at his arms and your thighs had fallen open wide of their own accord.
“There you go, pet. Take your pleasure, be a good little girl.” The hand at your throat tightened slightly, just enough to make you have to work a bit harder to draw breath. “And then, I’m going to fuck you...and I’m not going to be gentle about it.”
The orgasm slammed into you unexpectedly, and it was unlike any you had previously experienced. The combination of his praise and threat, along with the motions of both his hands, sent your body soaring. Your cries were hoarse and strained from his grip at your throat, and your legs shook as you came all over his hand, his eyes flaring down at you with delight as your body convulsed against him.
He removed the hand from between your thighs, lifting his wet fingers to your lips and ordering you to open them. Still drunk off the orgasm, you did so without hesitation.
“Suck them clean. Taste your own desperation,” he purred, teeth nipping sharply at your ear as he ground his hips against you.
Once he was satisfied with your work, he removed his fingers from your mouth with a pop before reaching down to his crotch and starting to undo the fabric. You watched in silent awe as he removed just enough of the unearthly clothing to release his thick cock, the head a dark red and already glistening with precum. Despite your recent orgasm, you still felt a bit of apprehension, knowing it was going to be a tight fit. He gave it a few firm strokes with his fist before he grabbed your hips and twirled you around so that you were facing the wall, his feet pushing your legs open even wider, spreading you out for him.
It felt so taboo, his still fully-dressed, muscular body pressing into your naked back, his bare erection bobbing between your spread thighs. He was so tall that when the hand at your throat pushed upward, forcing your head to tip back until your face was parallel with the ceiling, he was able to lean down over you and make eye contact. You tried to look away, but his fingers pressed into your windpipe in retaliation.
“Eyes on me, girl. I want to see that little look of pain in your eyes when I press into you.”
Your eyes widened at that, causing him to chuckle. The tip of his cock notched at your opening, but he didn’t press forward, drawing out the tension of the moment.
“Who do you belong to?” he taunted.
Licking your lips with both anticipation and nervousness, you whispered, “You.”
He made a deep, approving noise in his throat. “Yes. Say it. Say my name.”
“Loki,” you answered with a cry, as he started to press his cock forward, your body twisting as it struggled to adjust to the wide head.
“No no, don’t tense up,” he hissed. “Take it. Take it all.”
With that, he pushed inside you with one long, slow thrust. You felt the slight burn as your body stretched to accommodate every thick inch. It must’ve shown in your face, because his lips curled into a smirk at the same time as he groaned deep in his chest, the sound vibrating against your back.
“Mmm, you suffer so beautifully for me. Look at you, taking all of my cock like a good little girl.”
The bastard knew what his words did to you, panting out a chuckle when he felt you involuntarily clench around him in response. Your hands were braced against the wall, back arched as he grasped your throat and hip with his hands and impaled you on his cock. You felt so full, so utterly overtaken when he ground his hips into your ass, as if to see just how deep he could go.
He withdrew slowly before thrusting back in, quick and harsh, causing you to cry out with the sharp pleasure-pain. He did it again, pulling his hips back agonizingly slow until the tip of his cock was resting at your entrance. He paused for a moment before pushing back inside, as if to recreate that initial claiming thrust. After doing this about half a dozen times, he stopped teasing and set up a steady and deep rhythm, each thrust sending sparks throughout your entire body.
Your eyes had started to flutter shut, but his hand cutting off your air caused them to reopen and focus up at him, his chiseled features hovering over you in the dim light, gaze searing down into your own. This time, you didn’t panic, didn’t tug at his arm, just stared up at him with desire-glazed eyes and let him do as he wished. You could practically feel his approval of your surrender, his fingers loosening long enough for you to draw a few breaths before tightening again.
“You’re so pretty like this, surrendering to me,” he growled through bared teeth, once again letting up on your throat so that you could gasp in air and let it out with a moan. “Every breath you take is mine. Every gasp from your lips, every flutter of your pulse...it’s because I allow it. And now, I’m going to fill up this cunt and claim it as mine.”
Your whimper was cut off as his hand tightened once more, hips picking up the pace as he thrust brutally into you, his balls smacking your clit and fingers pressing so deeply into your hip that you knew there would be bruises to match the ones at your throat. The edges of your vision were starting to become fuzzy when he let up for the last time, his hand lowering from your neck to run over your breasts, tweaking the nipples until you whined before continuing downward.
When his fingertips zeroed in on your clit, you let out a pleading noise which, under other circumstances, would’ve made you ashamed at how needy it sounded. You weren’t sure what exactly you were begging for, but you did know that he was the only one who could give it to you. The harsh bite of his cock dragging against your sensitive inner walls combined with the fast and skilled movements of his fingers drove you up to the edge, forehead dropping to the wall as you moaned uncontrollably, his answering grunts sending shivers through you.
The hand gripping your hip came up to wrap in your hair, pulling your head back so that you were once again looking up at him, and you couldn’t help but think that he was one of the most glorious creatures you had ever seen. His features looked as wrecked as you felt, cords in his neck standing out with stark relief in his pale, moonlit skin as his jaw clenched tightly, eyes focused unwaveringly on you. It was one of the most intensely intimate moments of your life, his piercing gaze breaking you wide open with nowhere to hide.
You started shaking uncontrollably, body balanced right on the knife’s edge of pleasure and wanting so badly to fall over into the abyss. His lips twisted knowingly as your pussy started to flutter around his cock.
“Yes, that’s it. Come for me.” The hand between your legs pressed in harder, moved faster. “Come for your god.”
As if the words were the final push your body needed, the orgasm flowed through you. It wasn’t as volatile a punch as the first one; instead, it drowned you in waves of blissfully intense pleasure that drew soft cries from your lips, the sound mingling with his own strangled groan. Leaning down, hand still fisted in your hair, he bit into your shoulder as he came. You felt his warm cum filling you as he did just as he promised, and claimed you as his.
Mind floating from the high of your orgasm and body trembling with little aftershocks, you felt his hips slow then still, his mouth moving from your shoulder to lick a trail of sweat that was running down the side of your neck. Whimpering, you couldn’t stop your hips from pushing back into his, grinding onto the softening cock that was still buried deep.
He hummed with approval, his hands running up over your sides, tracing your body with possession for a few long moments as both of your bodies calmed. Taking your earlobe gently between his teeth, he whispered, “You’re mine now. Anytime I want you, anywhere I choose. Is that clear, kitten?”
Part of you wanted to deny him, wanted to find the strength to fight back, now that the orgasmic stupor was starting to lift. Instead, your body responded of its own accord, head nodding with submission.
His lips pressed softly to your temple, making you gasp at the gentle touch. You realized dazedly that it was the first kiss he’d given you all night.
“Good girl.”
The words were said a moment before his body moved away, his cock slipping wetly from your body. The cool air hitting your back made you immediately miss his body heat. You turned around, unsure what to do or say next…
But he was gone.
The back door was slightly ajar from him disappearing into the night, leaving you standing there, naked and shivering, his cum starting to trickle down the inside of your thigh. Grabbing your shorts and panties, you put them on before finding the tatters of your tank top and holding it to the front of your chest. Walking over to the door, you closed it with a click that sounded unnaturally loud in the empty kitchen.
You went around to the windows and re-closed the blinds, stopping at the last one to glance out into the yard. It was empty, completely undisturbed, but you knew he hadn’t gone far...and that he wouldn’t be gone for long.
Leaving the broken glass in the sink to deal with in the morning, you grabbed another one, filled it with water, and headed for the staircase. As you tucked back into bed, body already sore in places that made your skin heat with the memory, you thought back over his final words.
You’re mine now. Anytime I want you, anywhere I choose.
You wondered when he’d return to make good on his promise...and as you drifted off to sleep, tried to ignore the dark part of you that hoped it would be soon.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Afterword: This is meant to be only a one shot. I know, I know, I left it very open-ended. But I like to leave something to the imagination, so y’all can create your own fantasy idea of what might happen to “you” next ;)
#loki laufeyson#loki odinson#loki laufeyson smut#loki laufeyson x reader#loki odinson smut#loki laufeyson fanfiction#loki laufeyson fanfics#loki odinson x reader#loki#loki smut#loki fanfics#loki fanfiction#loki x reader#loki odinson fanficton#tom hiddleston#marvel#marvel smut#marvel fanfics#marvel fanfiction#fanfiction#loki laufeyson x reader insert#loki odinson x reader insert#loki x reader insert#reader insert
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Charmed I’m Sure [G.W.]
Description: George is in desperate need of assistance with his Charms essay and he turns to you. Working together brings you closer than you expected.
Pairing: George Weasley x Gryffindor fem!reader
Word Count: 1.5k
A/N: I wrote a bunch of these short stories/one shots a while ago that I decided to post them on here! Keep in mind I wrote this one AGES ago, so I know this one isn’t great but it sets the scene for some of the others I have. As I post these, they should get better :) Also I’m new to posting fics on Tumblr so bear with me as a work the kinks out
X
“Hermione, please!?!?” You heard from across the common room.
“For the last time George, no! I will not write your Charms essay for you!” Hermione said.
“But it’s due tomorrow and I haven’t even started yet!”
“Sorry, that’s your problem. I’ve got other things to work on.” She left the common room and you chuckled quietly to yourself.
“Waiting until last minute again, are we?” you asked George. He gave you a look that said it all.
“If you’re going to give me the speech about being more responsible and managing my time more wisely you can just skip it because I’ve heard that one too many times.”
“Me lecture? Never.”
He rolled his eyes and you said, “Come here, what’s this essay about.”
He sat down next to you on the couch and said, “Y/N, you’re brilliant at Charms! Will you please write this for me!?”
“Write it for you? No. But I will help you with it.”
He hugged you suddenly and said, “Thank yoooooou!”
“Easy. You can thank me when you finish the essay. I think you’re putting a little too much faith in me. I’m a year behind you so I might not even know about what you’re learning.”
“Eh semantics,” he said nonchalantly and you gave him a skeptical look. But sure enough, it was a topic you were familiar with. You helped him form a thesis and explained some of the critical information he needed. He put quill to parchment as you verbally gave him some sentences to include. As you sat there with him, you noticed he started to form his own words on the subject and everything he was writing was accurate. He seemed to be comfortable working on his own, so you pulled out some of your own work but sat with him for moral support.
After several hours, he convinced you to take a break with him. He set aside his parchment and said, “So, Y/N. How have you been?”
“I am just peachy. Things have been going quite well for me recently.”
“Things always go your way. Your Irish blood brings you luck.”
You shrugged and said, “Is that why you wanted my help? Because I’m lucky?”
“No, it was more because you’re wicked smart. And I missed talking to you. I haven’t seen you much this year.”
“Yeah I guess it has been a while. It’s mostly because you and Fred are always working on a prank of some sort.”
“And you’re always talking to someone different, Miss Socialite.”
“Oh that is not true. I’m just friendly.”
“Sure,” he said with an eye roll.
“Any good pranks in the works?”
“Y/N,” he chucked, “I know that you’re dying to be a part of one of our infamous pranks, but I don’t think you’re qualified.”
“I think you’re underestimating me. Think about it, filling me in on a prank would be very beneficial for you.”
“Oh? And why is that?”
“Because I’m logical and detail oriented. I think of everything, therefore there would be no chance of error. And, you know, I’m fun to be around.”
“I will agree with you on the latter part. We do need to hang out more. Outside of quidditch.”
“Well you should remember that and ask me to hang out sometime. I’m sure you’d much rather spend time with me while we’re doing something fun instead of writing an essay. And speaking of essay...” George groaned and went back to his books.
“Come on, you only have a few paragraphs left to write.” He started writing again and you looked up at the clock and noticed it was 2AM. You let out a big yawn and felt yourself become tired immediately.
“You sound tired. You should go to bed. I don’t have much left to write, I can handle it,” he said.
You shook your head and replied, “No, I’m okay. I’ll stay up with you.”
“It’s good enough as it is. I can bullshit the next few paragraphs.”
“Nope. I’m staying here. If I leave, who's to say you won’t fall asleep?”
“Yeah, fair point.”
By this time the two of you were sitting on the ground in the common room with your books sprawled out and your backs leaning against the couch, directly in front of the fireplace. You started getting cold so you grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around your shoulders. As you continued your reading assignment, you kept checking in on George to make sure he was getting work done.
“How’s it going?” you asked.
“I’m just trying to get this thing done. I don’t care how good my writing is as long as I get my point across.”
“Okay,” you yawned. A moment later you found your head was resting on his left shoulder. He noticed but he didn’t seem to mind. Soon you felt your eyelids flutter over your eyes and you were out.
X
You woke up the next morning and found yourself in a room that was not your own. It was not the common room either. It was definitely a dorm but whose, you weren’t sure.
“Morning sunshine,” someone said. You looked up to find George’s face smiling down at you.
“Morning,” you mustered, as enthusiastically as you could. “Where am I exactly?”
“In my room. See last night you fell asleep, and I didn’t want to wake you. I was going to carry you to your room but that wasn’t an option, with the enchantments and all. So I just took you to the next place I could think of, which was here.”
“You could have woken me up. Or just left me on the couch in the common room, you know?”
“Sure I could’ve, but you looked so peaceful sleeping. I couldn’t bring myself to wake you. And the common room was a bit nippy. I just thought you’d be more comfortable in my bed.”
“Well that was very sweet of you. But where did you sleep?”
“On the floor. I grabbed some spare pillows and blankets and-”
“George! You didn’t have to sleep on the floor. You really should have just left me in the common room. I would’ve been fine. I never meant to take your bed.”
“I just wanted you to be comfortable. Any gentleman would have done the same thing. Now please stop arguing with me because there isn’t anything you can do to change it.”
You opened your mouth to say something but found you had nothing to say. Instead, you slouched and crossed your arms, clearly annoyed with his previous statement.
“How did the essay come out?”
“I showed it to Hermione already and she said it looked decent. I just need a passing grade. If I pass this, I pass the class.”
“Oh, I didn’t realize this paper was so important...”
“You did all you could. Most of it was on me, for being a slacker. But thank you. I’m really happy we got to hang out for a bit last night.”
You smiled at him. “Me too. And it’s no problem. Really.”
You left his room and headed to your room, receiving a few curious looks on the way. Last night made you realize how much you had missed George. You used to be best friends growing up, but recently you drifted apart. You were still friends, but nowhere near as close as you used to be. You only hoped he would take your advice and ask you to hang out soon.
X
“Y/N!” You turned around to see who was calling you. It was George and he seemed very excited about something. You excused yourself from your current conversation and headed to see George.
“Y/N! I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”
“Oh have you?”
“Yes! Guess what?”
“Do you really want me to guess? Because I’m not a great guesser.”
“I got my paper back and I got an O!”
“O as in outstanding!? That’s amazing!”
“I owe it all to you! You practically wrote the paper for me.”
“Don’t sell yourself short. You did all the heavy lifting on that paper. I was just there for moral support.”
“You really don’t understand do you? You are the reason I passed! I couldn’t have done this without you”
“I’m really happy for you George! I can’t remember the last time I saw you this excited.”
“I am over the moon!” He embraced you in a hug and picked you up off the ground and spun you around. When he finally put you down, you just smiled at him. Then the last thing you ever expected to happen happened. His face became suddenly serious and he leaned in and kissed you. It was a relatively short kiss. It seemed like he just did it without thinking because he quickly pulled back and his face was that of panic and shock.
“I’m so sorry. I don’t know what-” he started, before you cut him off. You grabbed his tie and pulled him down towards you to kiss him again, this time more passionately. He wrapped his arms around your waist and you reacted by snaking your arms around his neck.
George pulled away and rested his forehead against yours. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he breathed.
“Well good, because you’re about to do it again.”
#george weasley#george wealsey x reader#george weasley x you#george weasley x gryffindor!reader#george weasley x fem!reader#fred and george weasley#weasley twins#george weasley fanfic#weasley twins fanfic#george weasley one shot#hp fanfic
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