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its-all-stardust · 11 months ago

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Sugar || 3

Masterlist || Part Two || Part Four

Steven Grant/Sugar Mommy!Reader

Word count: 3.9k

Series Summary: You meet Steven in a museum gift shop and feel an instant connection. Before you walk out the door you decide, perhaps against your better judgment, that you need him to be your sugar baby. Now you just need him to let you treat him right.

A week goes by without a word from Steven. You told him to take his time; you expected him to. But that doesn’t stop you from thinking about him every day.

If he was going to say no, wouldn’t he have done it by now? Or he might not answer you at all. That, you think, is worse. You would rather know for sure than guess what the silence means.

You try not to feel disappointment for something that hasn’t even happened—technically, he hasn’t rejected you—but it still prowls in the back of your mind. You haven’t been this worried about something since your company got off the ground when everything was still uncertain, with no guarantee you could make a living.

You especially never felt this way about your other babies. The situations are entirely different. You didn’t have to worry about a referral rejecting you, not right out of the gate anyway. And all the ones you met through specific apps were the same: saying yes and figuring out if things worked as time went on. You at least had a couple of months with all your previous babies, each of you getting a feel for the other before mutually deciding to part ways for one reason or another.

And yet none of them were quite as unforgettable to you as Steven is. Try as you might, you still don’t understand how you’re so drawn to him. Maybe you see enough of yourself in him that you can’t help but want to take care of him, like how you wished someone had cared for you before you broke out and started making what would lead to your fortune.

But it means nothing if he says no. So, as much as you dislike it, you try to put him from your mind. You go about your days as usual, attending meetings, fielding phone calls from heads of different departments, approving the latest marketing budget, and finalizing every move your company makes to ensure you know exactly what is happening at all times. Technically, you don’t need to be as hands-on as you are. There are certainly other people in a similar position who aren’t. You could be on a beach somewhere, signing documents someone else has already read and approved for you. You could be the kind of CEO who never reads a thing and just puts your signature wherever you’re told. You would effectively be retired while still earning an ungodly amount of money.

But you can’t do that; you can’t stand not knowing what’s happening with something that is your responsibility. You don’t want to rest easy, and you like working. While you have plenty—more than enough, really—saved away in investments, trusts, and more than a few bank accounts, you know how easily everything can be taken away. It almost happened once in the beginning, and ever since, you’ve been trying to ensure it never happens again.

And for all your worries about the state of your business, you don’t let it cross over into your after-work hours. You would, quite frankly, go insane if you didn’t clock out promptly at five. If nothing is on fire, it can wait until the next business day. The meeting you had the day of your dinner with Steven was a rare exception, but even then it only ran a few minutes past before you shut it down. The rest of the time was spent traveling from your office building to the restaurant.

You never understood people who worked later than they needed to. You’d much rather spend your evenings on things you enjoy, which, when you have one, is often your baby.

And you’re thinking of Steven again.

Would he like sitting with you while you were entertained by your other, mainly indoor, hobbies? Some of your other babies grew restless with the inactivity. Or would he be needy, constantly endearingly wanting your attention but never pushing too far?

You picture him looking at you with those beautiful brown eyes, begging for you to take him somewhere, talk to him, lavish him with affection—

Stop it.

Try as you might, it’s impossible to shake him. He’s in skin deep, and you have no clue how to carve him out.

Another week goes by, and still no word from Steven.

You had assumed, after he said he would tell you after he blushed so prettily and didn’t run screaming, that he would at least have the courtesy to tell you he had to turn you down. You’re less upset at this point and more irritated. Annoyed with Steven, sure, but annoyed at yourself for going against your better judgment, hoping that everything would turn out fine. You had to be smart to get where you are; you should have known better than to pick up a random person to try to make your sugar baby.

It’s Saturday night, and you’re cozied up on your couch, watching your favorite movie and enjoying a molten fudge brownie to drown your sorrows and anger. This was how you spent most weekends, in truth. All the money in the world didn’t make you any less of an introvert, uninterested in loud clubs or parties—unless you had a date to show off.

Which you don’t.

You scrape the crumbs from your plate and lick the fudge from your fork before tossing them down on the coffee table with a clatter, the sound making you wince.

Before long, the movie isn’t able to distract you. Still feeling a little spiteful, you grab your phone, letting the movie play for background noise.

You open the app you use to look for new babies—the one everyone has to pay to use. Maybe what you need is a professional, which many who use the app are. At the very least, you’ll have a more timely response from them. The professionals don’t play games. And even if you don’t see one tonight that catches your interest, there’s no harm in looking.

After glancing at a few profiles, you pause on one belonging to a dark-haired man with glasses. He says he lives in New York—you have your settings set internationally since you have the funds to bring someone to you—and you entertain the idea of asking him to relocate. You’ve never had someone move for you, but seeing how devoted a baby could be to you is always an ego boost.

Just as you’re about to send a few coins the man’s way—the paid in-app currency that mommies and daddies use to show interest and initiate contact with prospective babies—your phone chimes, the delicate notes of your ringtone filling the room.

A call. From Steven.

Disbelief fills you, tamping down some of your anger. It doesn’t dissipate entirely, though, and you’re tempted not to answer to teach Steven a lesson. But he’s not your baby, and reacting with anger before you hear him out isn’t fair to him.

Pausing your movie, you swipe to answer just before the call gets sent to voicemail.

“Hello,” you say simply, unwilling to try saying anything witty lest it comes across wrong over the phone. It’s happened before, and it’s never fun to have to backtrack and explain yourself, especially in such a delicate situation as this.

“For a second there, I was afraid you weren’t going to answer,” Steven says, sounding relieved.

“Why would you be afraid?”

“Because…” Steven hesitates. “Because it’s late, and I meant to talk to you sooner, I swear. But something…weird happened, and it was days later, and I could have sworn I left your number on Gus’s tank, but then it wasn’t there. And after everything else, I forgot for a day there and—”

“Steven,” you cut him off, ignoring the “forgetting” thing—for now. “Your answer?”

Steven is quiet for a moment. Then, a soft “Yes.”

“Yes, what? What do you want?” You need to hear him say it.

“Yes, I want to…be your sugar baby.” He whispers the last part as if he’s afraid to say the words out loud. If he doesn’t want to be called that, you won’t force it, but the affirmative response makes you grin.

“But I have some questions first,” he quickly adds.

“Of course. We’ll go over the terms and everything first before we make it official. Are you available tomorrow?”

You had Steven pick the meeting place, wanting him to be somewhere familiar and comfortable to discuss such an unfamiliar topic. The courtyard where you’re to meet Steven is small but lovely. You arrive a few minutes earlier than the set meeting time of ten. Early to ease Steven’s nerves, which you could hear from the other end of the line, and so you weren’t left feeling like you couldn’t do anything for the rest of the day now that you had one thing planned.

You spot Steven sitting on the bench in front of a ground fountain in the middle of the square, shoulder slumped and eyes staring down at the ground. You slowly approach, making sure your heeled boots clack loudly on the bricks. He looks up when you get close and jumps to his feet when he sees you, saying your name. Then he sticks out his hand before abruptly dropping it.

“Sorry. I’m not sure what the proper greeting for…this is.”

Smiling, you ask, “Would it be alright if I hugged you?”

Steven nods, his face flushing. You wonder, the longer you know him if that’ll ever stop. You hope it doesn’t.

Pleased, you step forward, tucking your arms under Steven’s while his come over your shoulders. His hold is light, like he isn’t sure how firmly to hold you. You tuck your chin onto his shoulder and close your eyes, enjoying his warmth. You relish affectionate touches with your babies, and Steven’s arms feel lovely around you.

It’s not a quick hug. You keep your arms around him, giving Steven a chance to relax into it. If he doesn’t, he may be one of the ones you forgo such actions with. Pleasantly, though, he readjusts his arms, settling their weight around you more completely to actually hold you.

He even lets out a pleased hum, and you have to bite your lip to keep your smile from turning into a too-wide grin.

Steven seems a little startled when you eventually pull away.

“So, what would you like to know?” you ask, sitting on the bench, setting your bag beside you on your free side.

“Right, erm…” He sits next to you, close but not too close. “What would I have to…do exactly?”

“Can you be more specific?” What a sugar baby does can encompass a number of things that vary for every mommy and daddy.

Steven looks around at the people passing by, shifting back and forth in his seat. “Would I have to…sleep with you?” he whispers.

It’s a fair question. Usually, one of the first a new baby will ask, and his hesitancy tells you that, for whatever reason, he’s shy about the topic.

“Only if we both want to and sometime in the future when we both know each other better,” you answer honestly.

You don’t sleep with all your babies, and it’s not a requirement for you. Some people don’t like sex with their mommies or daddies, and you’re not going to force someone to sleep with you. You can perfectly enjoy having a baby, being their mommy, without having sex with them.

“Oh,” Steven says evenly. You can’t quite make out what his tone means.

“And if you don’t want me to touch you at all, that’s fine. We don’t have to hug again or anything like that again if it’s uncomfortable for you.” Though you’ll be more than a little disappointed if that’s the case.

“The hug was nice!” Steven quickly assures you. “I just wasn’t sure if-if you’d need that for me to…”

“We don’t have to be sexual with each other for me to enjoy your company, Steven.”

He nods. “Good. That’s…good.”

Sometimes, you have trouble understanding what people mean when they speak. Steven’s an endearing sort of awkward, but you’re starting to learn that makes it hard to tell what he means.

Is he happy that he doesn’t have to have sex with a stranger? Or is he like some other people and disappointed that he doesn’t get to have a very-few-strings-attached relationship?

You’ll probably need to start asking for clarification in the future, but for now, don’t say anything and let the topic drop.

“What else do you have questions about?”

Steven shakes himself from his thoughts and turns back to you, no longer looking uncomfortable.

“Do you want me to quit my job?”

“Do you want to quit your job?” You’ve never asked a baby to quit working—if they even had a job to begin with—unless it was something that did more harm than good. Not to mention, it’s a good way to keep them busy when you’re not around. You can’t exactly be with your baby twenty-four-seven.

You don’t know what Steven goes through on a daily basis, though you can guess based on what his manager is like.

“Well, I don’t exactly love working with Donna,” Steven says, his mouth twisting when he mentions the woman of his apparent nightmares. “But the others aren’t so bad, and I really like it there. I mean, I wish I weren’t stuck in the gift shop, but it’s not all bad.”

“Then keep your job,” you shrug. “Set up a savings or investment account and put every paycheck in there. Then you have it for the future if you ever need it.”

“Are you sure?” Steven presses. “Because some of the things I read said I would have to.”

“If you need me to tell you to quit so it’s easier for you, then quit. But otherwise, I don’t care. I’m more than capable of working around your schedule. This is kind of another job, in a way.” He still looks unsure. You gently place your hand on his jaw, needing him to not just hear you but listen to you. “I want to take care of you, not control you.”

In a manner of speaking, you do control your babies, telling them what to wear and what to do to make you happy. Some even have a sort of persona around you that you find particularly pleasing. But you don’t force them to make life choices like that.

Helping someone quit their shitty job is vastly different than making someone stop doing something they enjoy. You’ve also noticed that it can be hard for new babies to give up the way of life they’re so used to. For them, it’s difficult to actually go through with not working when it’s all they’ve ever known, despite how often they’ve dreamt of never having to work ever again.

Steven doesn’t say anything, though he does seem to lean into your hand a little.

“So what’ll it be?” you prompt.

“I’ll keep my job,” he answers quietly, still mesmerized by your touch. You nod and take your hand away; you need his head clear.

“I just have one question for you before I start going over everything else.”

“Whatever you want to know.”

“Are you in any sort of relationship? Committed, casual?” You carefully watch Steven’s face, looking for any tells. You can’t always tell when people lie, but almost everyone has common cues indicating when they’re being deceitful.

“Oh, no! Nothing to worry about there,” he says with an awkward laugh. When he sees the slightly skeptical look on your face, he continues. “Let’s just say you’re the only one who’s been interested in me.”

His uncontrollable blush is on his face again, and he meets your eye without issue.

You have to bite your tongue to keep from asking Ever? Or recently? That’s something you can ask later if he’s willing to talk about it to sate your curiosity.

“Do people really do that?” Steven asks. “Date someone and be a sugar baby at the same time?”

“Of course, and usually consensually between all parties. It all comes down to what someone needs from their baby. Me, though? I like having them all to myself. It can be hard to try to fit in a third.”

“So I take it you’re not in a relationship?” Steven asks slowly.

You shake your head. “I’m not. It’s why I like having sugar babies.”

With the major questions out of the way, you start going into your expectations.

“There aren’t a lot of events that I attend, but I expect you to come with me,” you start, and Steven pulls out his phone. For a second, you’re confused, but as he starts typing., you see he’s making notes for himself. “Sometimes I like to take overnight trips, and I’d like you to come with me. We’ll have to go around your work schedule, though, so you always need to let me know your hours.

Steven writes it all down, mumbling the words to himself as you say them.

When I call, you answer. When I tell you to call me, you call me. No excuses.

If I ever tell you to do or not do something, you listen. It won’t ever be anything morally objectional. Depending on what it is, I’ll ask if you’re comfortable with it.

I’m your mommy, I expect please and thank you.

I like being affectionate. That means hugging, holding hands, and the like. I’d even like to be able to kiss you on the cheek if that’s alright with you.

I’ll give you a card. When you’re on your own, I expect you to use it. If I don’t see any large purchases on the statement, you’ll get a talking-to.

When we’re together, you ask me to buy things for you. Nothing is too big or too small.

I’ll be paying all your rent and any bills, so we’ll need to take time to get those sorted.

I’m paying you for your time, so you’ll get a payment every time we’re on a date or go out. Feel free to ask for more than I give you. There’s nothing wrong with being playful and saying you’re worth more.

“Also,” you say once you finish your last point. “Most of my babies are fine with informal, verbal agreements, but I can get something written up for you if you’d like.”

Steven is so focused on typing that he doesn’t realize you want his input. It isn’t until he registers what he’s typing that he finally looks up.

“Oh, sorry.” He locks his phone, putting his hands in his lap. “Is one better than the other?”

“Having a written agreement is more for the baby’s benefit. Based on my experience, babies like it because they can have a signed statement for continued payment for some time after the relationship ends. I usually only hear of high rollers doing it; that way, the baby is set up if things sour. And if the mommy or daddy doesn’t want to pay, the baby can threaten legal action, which usually gets settled out of court very quickly. A win-win for the baby.”

“And what would you get out of it?”

“For me personally? It would just be a way to hold you to the agreement enough to keep you from running out without notifying me. It’s fine if you don’t want to be my baby anymore, but I am at least owed a sort of resignation whenever the time comes.”

You remember that one baby you had a couple of years ago. He was new to the game, took his first payment, and left without speaking to you again. You were more annoyed at having to make someone track him down to ensure that nothing had happened to him than upset that he didn’t want to be a baby anymore.

“So, if I don’t want to be your baby anymore, I just say so and walk away?” Steven asks with a hint of skepticism, likely thinking that it surely can’t be that easy.

“Exactly. Like I said, I don’t want to control you or own you, but I think I deserve enough respect to be told you’re no longer interested.”

Steven thinks everything over for a moment.

“I can’t say I see myself wanting to sure you, so I think I’ll be okay without signing anything,” he eventually says.

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah, I mean, this doesn’t have to be as complicated as all that, does it?”

You give a small smile. “It doesn’t. This is supposed to be fun, after all.”

Steven smiles back at you, and you feel a flutter in your chest. Normally, your babies don’t set your heart pounding, but Steven isn’t quite like them. You push it out of your mind; it’s best not to get too attached, not like that anyway.

“Did you set up that account I asked you to?” you ask, ready to get on to the fun part of a new baby’s first arrangement.

Steven unlocks his phone and opens the online banking app you asked him to download last night. It’s the best way to send his payment, and then he can move it around however he likes afterward.

Pulling up the QR code to share his profile, you scan it with your app, adding him to your contacts. Then, you tap to start a transaction.

“This will be for our initial dinner and for today. Go ahead and type any amount you’d like in there,” you say, handing your phone to Steven.

He stares at the screen, frozen, like he’s afraid to move.

“Go on,” you urge him. You had wondered what he’d be like once he was told to start asking for money. Much like your other new babies, he’s hesitant, afraid to name a number, even though this whole arrangement revolves around money.

Steven looks up at you, eyes wide and biting his lip. Finally, looking back down at your phone, you watch as he types a single “1” before thrusting it back toward you.

You don’t take it. “Do you think that’s all you’re worth? Add some zeroes on there.”

Steven types one zero.

“Another,” you command. Very slowly, he types another. “Think you can give me one more?”

“I… That’s just…” Steven flounders, shaking his head.

“Steven.” Just his name, nothing more. Your voice is firm, leaving no room for argument.

This time, he quickly hits a third zero and practically throws the phone back at you.

“Good boy,” you say, quickly hitting the ‘transfer’ button to send the thousand pounds to Steven. You think you see him shiver.

You grin, already loving his reactions. You can’t wait to tease him, give him more.

“Now, what do you say?” you ask, tucking your phone back into your leather handbag.

“Thank you,” Steven says quietly, face once again flushed.

“You’re welcome, baby.” His eyes flit down shyly, but he doesn’t turn away from you.

Then you reach out and tug on the sleeve of his shirt, examining the fit and pattern.

“There’s one more thing I’d like to do today if you have the time,” you say, eyeing up the rest of his outfit.

“What’s that?” Steven asks, sounding nervous and perhaps a little excited.

Your eyes flick to meet his, that predatory look returning to your face.

“I want to take you clothes shopping.”

Series taglist: @multific @uncle-eggy

#moon knight x reader #steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #moon knight fanfic #x reader #sugar series

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ophelia-writes-fics · 3 months ago

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you're screwed up and brilliant, look like a million dollar man [kilgrave x reader - 18+]

A second run-in with Kilgrave leaves you reeling.

Tags (please read!): smut, fem!reader, AFAB!reader, mind control kink, mentions of marking during sex, fear, implied fear kink, degradation, some praise (but mostly mixed with degradation), humiliation, humiliation/degradation kink, hair pulling, edging, begging, frottage, handjobs, overstimulation, like a LOT of overstimulation, i cannot emphasize the overstimulation enough, possessiveness, light face slapping, mirror sex, riding, clit slapping, painplay, spanking, sadism (kilgrave), masochism (reader), multiple orgasms, a frankly unrealistic amount of orgasms

Word Count: ~6.3k

TWs/CWs:

super dubious consent. like last time, reader is into everything without being compelled (with one smallish exception if you squint?), but again, it's not negotiated

unprotected sex

mind control/mind altering

Kilgrave is still a walking red flag (and we love him anyways <3)

(as always, talk to your partners, get consent, etc :))

part one here

It had been a long, exhausting week since you last saw the man known only to you as Kilgrave. You hadn’t stopped thinking about him since your last encounter, not just because you’d had to take the next few days off of work afterwards — your boss was worried that getting up onstage covered in bruises, scratches, and bite marks might send the wrong message to the patrons of the club. She’d been worried about you too, but you’d assured her that everything was fine. Which it was. The other reason you couldn’t stop thinking about him was because you desperately wanted to see him again.

However, you still needed money, so having time off at your night job meant picking up evening shifts at your day job, which was bartending at a casino on the other side of town. It was Thursday, which meant the place was absolutely deserted, and the patrons who did show up were barely drinking anything. The past two hours of your shift had involved nothing but standing behind a bar, staring into space, and wiping down the pristine counter every few minutes in an attempt to look busy.

However, you were snapped out of your mindless rhythm when your coworker tapped you on the shoulder.

“Hey,” she said, anxiously shifting from one foot to the other. “So, my break is coming up and I’m super tired and I really wanna take it, but there’s some weird shit going on in there.” She jerked her head towards the main room. “There’s this guy at the poker table? He keeps winning with the worst fucking hands I’ve ever seen, and it’s, like, insane amounts of money. Way more than I’ve ever seen anyone come in here with. Could you take over for me for, like, 20 minutes? And could you keep an eye on them and tell me what happens when I get back?”

Damn it.

There was one man you knew who could definitely win at high-stakes poker with the worst hands imaginable. You didn’t know for sure, but you had a sneaking suspicion that was only growing that you’d be seeing him sooner than you’d previously expected.

You took the champagne bottle from your coworker’s hands without a second thought and walked into the main room, bracing yourself for whatever waited inside.

The moment you stepped through the door, all your suspicions were confirmed. Even with his back turned to you, you could practically feel his presence in the air.

Right there, holding court in the center of the room, sitting at the head of a table covered in poker chips and stacks of cash, was Kilgrave.

You sighed. Goddamn it, you thought to yourself. As captivating as he was, you were still technically on the job, and you’d get fired if the house lost that much money on your watch. You’d get in extra trouble if anyone found out someone had cheated their way into getting it. Your mind raced as you tried to formulate a strategy.

Okay. You can’t try to kick him out. If you call security, he’ll just tell them to fuck off and they will. You can’t tell the dealer, because there’s no way he’ll believe that the other players have been mind controlled. Besides, you can’t call attention to yourself. He’ll recognize you. Unless…

An idea clicked in your head.

There’s no way he’d give up that kind of money, unless he had something better to tempt him.

You weren’t sure it would work, but if it did, well… it was a win-win situation, wasn’t it?

You slowly crept up to the table. No one spared you more than a passing glance, including Kilgrave, whose eyes were firmly on the cards in front of him. You snuck a look over his shoulder as you approached. He really did have the worst hand imaginable. It was almost funny.

You took a breath to steady yourself, then softly cleared your throat as you placed a hand on his shoulder.

You’d been expecting a few different reactions, but you didn’t expect him to shake you off without even looking up.

Oh, of course he’s a dick to waitresses. It deeply annoyed you that, somehow, this didn’t make you want to fuck him less. Irritated, without giving it a second thought, you gave him a light, backhanded smack on the arm.

The table went silent. That got his attention.

He turned around to face you. His expression, which had started as a mix of bewilderment and anger, quickly shifted to one of alarmed recognition. He blinked once, his brow furrowing.

“It’s you,” he said, his tone unreadable.

You gave him a tight-lipped smile. “It’s me,” you replied.

Kilgrave stared you down for a moment. You desperately wanted to break eye contact, for him to forget you were ever there, to just go back to work, until suddenly, his expression changed slightly, and he turned to face the men at the table, setting his cards down.

“Right. I’m leaving. Do not get up from this table, and don’t cheat. We’ll continue this game when I get back.”

He stood up and took your arm, pulling you away.

“Are you really just going to leave them there?” You craned your neck to try and see if his command had worked, and sure enough, everyone remained seated and still. A knot formed in your stomach.

He didn’t answer as he pulled you out of the room and down the hallway to the coat check, snapping his fingers at the employee behind the counter.

“You. Take over for her. Serve champagne, clean tables, whatever it is she does.” Kilgrave plucked the bottle of champagne from your hand and thrust it at the checker. You hadn’t even realized you were still holding it. “Close the coat check. We’ll be going back there. Don’t bother us.” And with that, he breezed past, pulling you into the coatroom with him and slamming the door behind you both.

The moment the door was shut, Kilgrave cornered you against a wall — not touching you, but close enough that he could grab you if you tried to leave.

“What are you doing here?” he hissed.

“I work here!” you replied indignantly.

“Tell the truth.”

“I. Work. Here. It’s my day job.”

His posture relaxed slightly, but he still didn’t step back.

“Did you follow me here?”

“No,” you answered, keeping your tone as calm as possible. You just hang around shady establishments a lot, apparently, you added silently.

He leaned back a bit.

“Why did you approach me?”

“Because you were illegally winning a ton of money off the house and I don’t want to get fired,” you huffed, before somewhat reluctantly muttering, “And I wanted you to fuck me again.”

“Repeat that last bit?”

“I wanted you to fuck me again,” you snapped, a bit louder than you’d meant to. “But frankly, right now I’m not in the mood anymore.”

He pursed his lips. “Why not?”

“Because you’re keeping those people prisoner in there!”

“Which people?”

You stared at him in disbelief, trying to gauge whether or not he was messing with you. Shockingly, his confusion seemed completely sincere. “Those men at the poker table. Are you just going to make them sit there for however long you’re gone?”

He glanced in the direction of the casino and sighed with irritation, as if he’d just remembered they were there, before shaking it off with a slight roll of his eyes.

“Forget about them. Come upstairs with me.”

Your brain filled with that all-too-familiar cold fog. It felt like you had tripped going up the stairs - your whole body was thrown off balance, your heart raced, and your thoughts raced to catch up after the interruption. What had you been thinking about? Something about the main room?

You must have been worried about someone covering for your coworker. Yes, that seemed right. He’d told someone to do it, hadn’t he? Yes, he had. Then it was fine. There was nothing to worry about.

With that, your brain fog cleared, and your worries went with it. You realized you were trailing behind him as he walked towards the elevators.

As you passed the entrance to the casino itself, you turned your head slightly and peeked into the room. You cocked your head. Huh. I wonder what all those guys are doing just sitting at that table. I don’t think they were there before.

When the elevator arrived at the top floor, Kilgrave walked ahead of you along the hallway to the penthouse suite at the very end, pointing you towards the bed once you were inside.

You grinned, reclining on your back and supporting yourself on your elbows as you kicked off your shoes, watching him shrug off his jacket and undo his belt before sitting down at the armchair in the corner of the room.

He then turned his gaze toward you and clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “Stand up,” he ordered, as if it should have been obvious. You obeyed, and it felt like second nature by now. You felt the cold hardwood floor under your feet, even through your stockings, and you couldn’t help but turn your gaze slightly downward as he observed you, scanning you up and down for any imperfections.

He sighed. “No, no, this won’t do.”

Your heart dropped. He couldn’t be bored of you already, could he? You felt slightly panicky, as the reality of what he could do caught up to you again. Would he make you forget everything you’d done that day? Forget he existed? Would he kill you? Your mind raced as you tried to figure out if you could run before he ordered you to do anything. You felt your muscles tensing, preparing to bolt at a moment’s notice.

“Take off your clothes,” he commanded, keeping his dark eyes on you.

Your whole body flooded with relief and arousal. You briefly scolded yourself as you quickly stripped out of your uniform, the rational side of your brain reminding you that worrying that he was going to kill you if he was even slightly dissatisfied with you is probably a red flag before the horny side of your brain dismissed the thought with a well, he didn’t, and you don’t know he would, so it’s probably fine.

You stood bare before him, hands clasped in front of you, obediently awaiting his instructions. He beckoned you over with a small motion of his finger, and you sank to your knees in front of him. You fidgeted nervously as he watched you, biting your lip as you worked up the nerve to ask him for what you wanted most.

“Could you, um…could you do that…thing again?”

His brows raised slightly. “What ‘thing’?”

“The thing where you…um…command me, or whatever it is you call it. The mind control thing.” You hesitated before adding a quiet “please.”

You weren’t sure what you were expecting, if you were expecting any response at all, but one of the last items on your list of things you were expecting to come out of Kilgrave’s mouth was a short, shocked, high-pitched laugh. A grin spread across his face as he stared down at you, and you felt a fluttering in your chest.

“You really would let me do whatever I want to you.” It was a statement, not a question, but you nodded vigorously anyway. “God, that’s disgusting. You’re so desperate to get off that you’d cum your brains out if I mind controlled you?!”

You squirmed, face burning as you clenched your thighs, and he laughed again. You felt pathetic, and it made your cunt ache for him.

He considered you for a moment—you could practically feel him wondering what exactly he should do with you— before stretching one leg in out front of him, positioning himself so that the toe of his brand-new, expensive-looking leather dress shoe was just barely starting to press into your clit. You kept completely still, waiting for his orders, your body alight with anticipation.

“You want to get off that badly, then do it,” Kilgrave said, his bored tone only thinly veiling his enthusiasm to watch.

You wasted no time, desperately rubbing yourself against him the minute you were permitted to, grinding your sensitive clit against the black leather. You bit your lip, moaning in humiliated arousal at the feeling, watching as your pussy dripped with need all over the supple material as you fucked yourself stupid.

You felt Kilgrave’s hand in your hair, pulling you closer and shoving your cheek against his knee, holding you in place and keeping your eyes on him as you rutted against him.

“You’re filthy,” he rasped, pressing his foot into your clit harder as you watched his arousal grow. “You’re disgusting, getting off like this, riding my fucking shoe, it’s fucking vile. God, I just want to watch you do that for hours…and you would, wouldn’t you? If I ordered you, you’d do it. I don’t think I’d even have to control you, I think you just want it that badly. Such a depraved little thing, aren’t you?”

You nodded, and he smiled at you.

“Of course you are. Keep going. Don’t you dare stop. I don’t care how sore you get, you’re going to keep going until you wear yourself out. Do you hear me?” He pulled your hair tighter, turning your face to him for emphasis. “Nod if you understand me.”

You obeyed, feeling the friction against your cheek as you nodded again. You kept going, desperately chasing your orgasm, your senses blurring into a pleasured haze as your eyes rolled back, when without warning, your whole body seized, harshly stopping your motions. It took your brain a moment to process that Kilgrave had told you to stop. You looked up at him, and you must have looked as betrayed as you felt, because a self-satisfied smile appeared across his face.

“Oh, sorry,” he mocked, mimicking your affronted pout before his grin returned. “It just looked like you were getting close. I wanted to remind you that I didn’t say you could cum.”

You whined in protest, but the sound was cut off when Kilgrave pressed his hand over your mouth. He leaned back once you were quiet, his detached demeanor only slightly interrupted by the visible outline of his hard cock in his pants.

“Keep going, but don’t cum. You don’t deserve it yet.”

You obeyed. Of course you did. Your body betrayed you, automatically stopping you before you could cum, each time getting just that little bit closer before it was ripped away, over and over again until you lost count. It was torture, and although you would have done anything for it to end, you couldn’t get enough, drinking in every sensation at once. All the while, Kilgrave watched you intently, only speaking when you began to beg after what you thought was your seventh time being edged, although you’d long since lost count.

“Kilgrave, p-please, I can’t anymore, it’s too much, I’m going to break, I can’t take any more!”

He gave you a mocking little frown in response. “What a shame. I thought you were tougher than that.”

“I am, I can be! I just — ahh! Please, please, I just want it so bad…”

“Oh, is that it? You just want it so badly? In that case…” He patted your head, which would have made you melt if it hadn’t been so condescending. “You can make yourself useful, can’t you? Use that empty head of yours and think of something you can do to earn it.”

You didn’t dare stop rubbing against him, afraid you’d be punished if you stopped edging yourself for even a moment, so you kept going, the torturous friction of the fabric of his trousers against your clit making your heart pound as you leaned forward to undo his belt and take his cock in your hand.

He offered nothing more than a small moan from between clenched teeth in response, but that was all you needed. You stroked his cock, slowly and gently at first, watching him as closely as you could. You followed every cue his body gave you - every small motion, every sharp breath, every thrust of his hips - chasing them, desperate for more. You wanted to earn it. You needed to earn it. Your body longed for it like oxygen, longed for approval, for your orgasm, for his cock finally inside you again.

You stroked him harder; slow, steady motions that lavished him with attention and calmed your shaking hands. Judging by the way he gripped the arm of the chair, he seemed to be nearly as close as you were. You sped up both your hips and your hand, trying to finish him off before he could rip your pleasure away again, moving entirely on instinct and desperation. However, as you neared your peak, you felt his hand on your wrist, pulling you away. You looked up, your vision slightly cloudy, prepared to beg him not to stop you, but the command never came. All he did was look back at you, eagerly watching as you fucked yourself against him.

You refused to let your opportunity slip away. Unless he forced you not to, then you were going to cum. You sped up, ignoring the ache in your muscles. Your hips stuttered and ground against him harder, rubbing your clit with short, rough little thrusts. Your vision was completely out of focus now, your eyes half-lidded — your brain was too fucked out to function properly, let alone see clearly. Every bit of your body burned, but all you could do was keep going and going and going, getting closer and closer, your breath coming in quick gasps as you rapidly approached your peak, and he still didn’t stop you.

Your entire body tensed as your orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, muscles trembling from being clenched so tightly for so unbearably long. You gave a strangled moan that became a wail as the sensation fully washed over you, and you collapsed against Kilgrave, your hips still erratically jerking against him. You felt overwhelming relief as he let go of your hair; the sudden loss of tension made you realize how tightly he’d been holding on. He shoved your chin upward with his knee, forcing you to make eye contact.

“Get on the bed,” he ordered, and your stomach dropped. You were thoroughly worn out and so overstimulated it hurt, but the look in Kilgrave’s eyes told you that you weren’t getting a break.

You clambered unsteadily to your feet, nearly falling twice, legs still shaking. You barely managed to get upright enough to collapse facedown onto the duvet.

You moaned weakly, feeling Kilgrave’s hands around your hips before he flipped you over so that you were facing him. He leaned in close, lips nearly touching yours, his hands holding your wrists in place by your head, his cock pressing against your clit in a way that had you fighting your own instincts to squirm away from the overstimulation.

“Now, did you follow my orders from last time?”

Your mind raced to clear away the exhaustion as you tried to remember the request he’d given you the last time you met, and you nodded. “I haven’t slept with anyone else,” you panted as you tried to catch your breath.

“Hmm,” Kilgrave purred, letting go of one wrist to tangle his fingers in your hair. “And why is that?”

You blinked in confusion. “Because…you told me to?”

Kilgrave clicked his tongue once in disapproval. “No, no, that can’t be it,” he said, his expression one of feigned contemplation. “Any order I give wears off after twelve hours. You wouldn’t know that, of course,” he gave you a quick glance before continuing, “So you must have not wanted to.”

For some reason, you’d assumed that his commands lasted longer. Looking back, it was odd that you couldn’t tell when whatever power he had wore off. But he was right, you supposed. Whether the thought was originally yours or not, you hadn’t wanted to fuck anyone else for at least six days after the command would have worn off, so you hadn’t.

You nodded in agreement, a bit dazed. It was so hard to focus with him touching you.

“And why didn’t you want to?”

That you didn’t have an answer prepared for.

“Um…I…just didn’t?” Your response came out like a question.

“Hmm, not quite.” Kilgrave tilted his head slightly to one side, waiting for another answer, but when you stayed quiet, he leaned in further, lips brushing against the shell of your ear.

“The correct answer,” he whispered, his tone growing dangerous, “is that you don’t want to fuck anyone else because you’re mine. Isn’t that right?”

The familiar brain fog took over as you felt a warmth in the pit of your stomach. “Yes, it is,” you replied instinctually.

“Then say it.”

“I’m yours, Kilgrave.”

“Again.”

“I’m yours! Now please, please fuck me, or I swear to god I’ll—“

“You’ll what?” His tone darkened.

You bit your lip. You didn’t know what to say. You didn’t know what you could do against him. You couldn’t overpower him. You wouldn’t ever want to.

He reached up and slapped your face — lightly, but hard enough to know that he wasn’t afraid to take things further if you didn’t cooperate.

“Answer me, slut. What exactly are you going to do to me if I don’t fuck you right now?”

Your mouth opened of its own accord at his command. “Nothing,” you choked out. “I won’t do anything. I’ll be good.”

Kilgrave rewarded you with a satisfied “hmm” and a smug smile before pulling away.

“Show me your neck,” he ordered.

Confused and a bit terrified, but in no position to argue, you craned your chin upward, closing your eyes as you exposed your most vulnerable flesh to the man above you. You could feel your pulse jump, just below your sensitive skin. You couldn’t hold back a shiver when Kilgrave ran his fingertips, gently and slowly, down the column of your throat, over the nearly-faded bruises he’d left the last time you saw each other.

He went still for a moment, lingering on the prints of his fingers on your skin before pressing down ever-so-slightly.

You gasped, but managed to keep yourself from squirming as Kilgrave wrapped his slender hand around your neck, not hard enough to choke you, but enough to make you need to take a deeper breath than normal. You squeezed your eyes shut, pressing your thighs together and willing yourself to be patient, before you felt Kilgrave’s other hand shove your legs apart before slamming two fingers into you. Your body jerked involuntarily as he roughly scissored them, thrusting them in and out a few times before pulling away entirely and sitting down on the edge of the bed. You glanced up at him, slightly confused.

“Come here,” he ordered, patting his leg in a clear invitation for you. “Face the mirror.”

You obeyed, struggling to move on your still-shaky legs, situating yourself so that your back was to him as you lowered yourself onto his lap. You gasped as you felt Kilgrave press his cock into you as you did so, impatiently forcing you backwards so that he was buried deep in your cunt with barely a moment for you to adjust to the feeling of him inside you. His hands grasped your inner thighs, pulling them apart roughly so that you had no choice but to watch yourself being fucked. He leaned in close, biting your neck before ordering:

“Ride me. I don’t care if your legs hurt. Don’t stop fucking yourself until I tell you to.”

You were in no position to disobey. You moved as best you could, still trying to stay as close as possible to him, grinding your hips against his lap, closing your eyes as you felt him hit your most sensitive spot. He moved his legs so that they were keeping yours wide open, pinning you right where he wanted you. He grabbed your chin roughly and forced your half-lidded gaze towards the mirror on the wall in front of you.

“Look at yourself. Look at you, getting fucked by a complete stranger. It’s pathetic. I absolutely ruined you the last time we met and you loved it so much, you just couldn’t help but bother me while I was working, eh? Oh, you must have been desperate for me,” he murmured through clenched teeth as he fucked into you, jerking his hips upward. “No one else can fuck you like this, can they? I��m the only one who can control you the way you love so much, so I’m the only one who gets to fuck you. Isn’t that right?”

There was that possessiveness again, making your heart beat faster than it already was. You reached upward, clutching the hand that held your face, and leaned back into him.

“Fuck, yes, yes, yes, I’m yours, I’m yours, Kilgrave…”

His name fell from your lips like a prayer as he fucked you. You worked your hips, bouncing up and down on his cock. Your eyes stayed glued to yourself in the mirror, staring at your fucked-out reflection, thoroughly mesmerized by the sight of his dick inside you. One of his hands wandered to your hip, gripping it hard; you could feel his nails digging little crescent marks in your skin. His other hand found its place at your clit, delicately massaging it with light, little circles, teasing you, tormenting you.

You arched your back in a silent plea for more, your moan becoming a sharp yelp when his hand came down hard and slapped your clit at full force.

Your legs automatically tried to close, but Kilgrave had you firmly kept in place. He leaned upward, pulling you close, your back pressed firmly against his chest.

“Oh, what’s the matter, sweetheart? Is it too much?”

You paused, considering it, then nodded weakly, your eyes screwed shut. Your heart had skipped a beat at the pet name, but you had more pressing matters at hand.

“Really? You came like a whore when I hit you with a fucking belt, but if I slap your cunt just a bit too hard, then you start whining?”

You nodded again, feeling thoroughly humiliated.

Kilgrave hummed in satisfaction. “Mmm. That’s too bad, I suppose. You’ll have to learn to like it.”

You whimpered and writhed as another hit came, then another. You moaned, starting to feel the stinging pain give way to a wave of pleasure, but still you trembled, completely overwhelmed.

“See? Look at you. You’re desperate for it. I know how much you love it when I hit you. Stop squirming and let me give you what you want.”

Your body relaxed involuntarily, eyes automatically locking onto yourself in the mirror. Again his hand came down, and your hips jumped forward, anticipating it.

You bit your lip as the stinging pain slowly settled into a pleasurable tingling feeling, watching as your clit grew bright red and slightly swollen as Kilgrave kept going, slap after slap after slap until you were gasping for air, jerking your hips against nothing in a desperate bid to cum, your head spinning.

He stroked your clit with the tip of his index finger, just the barest of touches, but it was enough to make you flinch at the sensitivity. You groaned, but you still thrust your hips forward, wanting more.

“Oh, look at that. Feels good, doesn’t it? Greedy fucking whore.” He punctuated the sentence with one final, harsh slap before pulling out and moving you off his lap.

You tumbled limply, until you landed in the middle of the bed, facedown and panting, feeling your abused clit throb pleasurably with every heartbeat. You didn’t even have time to try and take a full breath before you felt Kilgrave position himself above you, his cock brushing at your entrance.

“Are you gonna be good for me?” he murmured close to your ear.

You nodded, and you felt him lean closer, his teeth grazing your neck before he spoke again.

“Then tell me what you’re going to let me do.”

You exhaled a moan before taking a shaky breath in. “Whatever you want to do. I can take it.”

“Is that so?”

“Mm-hmm,” you sighed. You wriggled your hips, trying to maneuver yourself back onto his cock. “Just fuck me, I’ve been thinking about you all week — oh my fucking god!”

Kilgrave had grabbed a fistful of your hair and yanked your head back, forcing himself inside of you with a deep moan that was almost a growl as he did so. You frantically moved to match his pace, throwing your hips back against his to meet every brutal thrust. Your eyes rolled back as you felt him fuck against your most sensitive spot, over and over and over again, never letting up, never faltering.

He slapped your ass once, twice, three times before ordering you to cum. No teasing, no making you beg, just one simple order: “Cum.” And you obeyed, grinding out your orgasm, keening with pleasure as you did so.

It was nearly a full minute before your brain started working again and you realized he hadn’t stopped fucking you. Your thoughts were hazy, but you had the vague feeling that that was odd. You remembered last time, and how he’d refused to let you cum until he was right on the edge. So, you mused vaguely, you’d figured he was close, but he was still going.

However, you didn’t have any time to think about it any further, because he was ordering you to cum again - the same way, just one blunt command.

“Cum.”

And your body obeyed without warning.

You normally needed more time between orgasms; your body was still reeling from the last one. And yet, you still found yourself cumming, trembling from the force of it, your cunt clenching onto him desperately.

Your shaky hands faltered where they gripped the sheets and you briefly scrambled to try and hold yourself upright, but your efforts were in vain. The minute you thought your body was stable, the command came again.

“Cum.”

This time, you completely let go. There was no way you could have even tried to hold yourself together. The pleasure was blinding you, making your heart skip a beat as it raced in your chest. You fell forward, burying your face in the sheets. The only thing holding your hips upright was Kilgrave, his grip on you holding firm even as you convulsed, unable to regain control of your exhausted muscles.

You were nearly hyperventilating now, your breath coming fast and hard as you turned your face to the side and desperately tried to get words out.

“Wh…what…what the f….fuck are y…you…doing to me?”

You couldn’t see Kilgrave, but you heard the grin in his voice, even as he panted with the exertion of fucking you.

“You said I could do whatever I wanted. What I want is to see how many times you can cum before you tire yourself out. I’m not going to stop until you can’t move, and you don’t get my cum inside you until then. Besides, being mind controlled makes you a complete slut anyway, doesn’t it? You’d do it, whether I commanded you to or not. Now be a good girl and cum.”

And your body obeyed without question.

You bit down on the sheets to keep from biting your tongue, half-pained moans of overwhelming bliss escaping from your throat in guttural, needy cries. You couldn’t feel your legs anymore; you had no idea how your lower half was still upright, and you could feel every nerve in your overstimulated cunt begging for a moment of rest that never came.

For what felt like hours and hours, every time you started to come down from your last orgasm, Kilgrave would order another from you, and you had no choice but to comply. Eventually, your shaking legs gave in, but he just maneuvered you onto your back without hesitation and kept going.

Around the time of what you thought must have been the eighth one (although there was no way you could have kept track at that point), you mustered every single bit of your strength to try and resist his orders. You held out for as long as you possibly could, letting the cold fog fill your head for as much as you could bear it, your entire body shaking with the effort, until you cracked and the torturous pleasure flooded you, leaving you even more of a wreck than you had been before. Even worse (even better?), the feeling of being mind-controlled by him acted like a direct line to your brain’s pleasure center, and trying to disobey only made the feeling intensify the longer you tried to resist. Whenever you finally let go, your orgasms only got stronger. And the stronger they got, the more vicious Kilgrave became, taunting you as he fucked your dripping cunt:

“Oh, yes, take it, just like that, we both know how much you love getting fucked like this…oh, are you trying to resist again? That’s precious. Fine, struggle all you like, you know you’re going to cum anyway, don’t you? There you are, just cum for me. Let it all out. It feels so good, doesn’t it? I know, it feels so good for you to be treated like a slut. God, look at your cute little cunt, leaking all over me, making such a fucking mess. Keep taking it. This is where you belong, isn’t it? Getting impaled on my cock. You’re all mine, all fucking mine. Cum for me, cum for me…such a good girl…fuck, you’re so tight, how are you still so tight after being fucked for this long? It’s like you were made for me, made to get fucked by me. God, I love hearing you scream for me…I don’t even think I’d have to tell you to cum at this point, I think you’d just keep going all on your own, wouldn’t you? Mmm, of course you would. But I know what you’d like more than that. You want me to order you to, don’t you? Come on, beg for it…ask nicely…there you go, I’ve trained you so well, haven’t I? Go on then, cum for me…”

Finally, finally, long after every single one of your senses had been dulled into near-nonexistence, long after your dripping pussy had gone numb with overstimulation, and long after you stopped being able to process anything Kilgrave said, your jerking muscles gave into exhaustion and collapsed, leaving you unable to do anything but moan quietly, your voice having gone hoarse ages ago.

As your cunt twitched weakly with what you prayed would be your final orgasm of the night, you felt Kilgrave’s grasp on you tighten. Through your blurred vision, you saw him throw his head back in ecstasy as he came deep, deep inside you.

Your eyes rolled back and your lids fluttered shut as he pulled out of you, the relief so intense you would have cried if you hadn’t been so worn out.

You heard soft footsteps as he made his way to the side of the bed, then felt his hand brush something wet from the corner of your mouth. You felt slightly embarrassed at the realization that you were so fucked out that you’d started drooling.

You mustered your last bit of energy to crack one eye slightly open.

“Thank you,” you sighed, your lips curving into a smile as your eyes shut again. You thought you felt a hand brush your hair, but you couldn’t tell - you were already half asleep and dreaming.

When you woke up, it was well past midnight. Your shift had ended hours ago. You groaned as you stretched your sore muscles and rolled over in bed. You were briefly surprised at the realization that you were under the covers, before deciding that you must have pulled them up around you in your sleep. You didn’t let yourself consider the alternative, or that you’d woken up in the exact same position you’d fallen asleep in.

You blinked a couple of times, trying to adjust your vision to the dark. You weren’t expecting to see Kilgrave there, but his absence still caused a slight pang of hurt. Still, you figured, no one had come up to clean out the room or kick you out since he had, so he had at least booked it for the night. You decided to take advantage of it as your exhaustion caught up with you again and you sank back into a deep, deep sleep.

You woke up a full twelve hours later at noon the next day. Thank god it’s my day off, you thought to yourself as you gingerly got out of bed. You slowly put on your uniform, picking it up from where you’d left it on the floor, wincing as you moved. Still, despite the slight ache that you felt all over, you’d slept better than you had in ages.

As you smoothed your skirt down, you felt an odd texture inside one of the pockets, a slight crinkling that gave you pause. You felt your heartbeat quicken as you pulled out a small, folded piece of paper. You slowly, anxiously unfolded it to find three sentences written in pencil. The first was an address — based on the street name, you knew it was downtown, in an incredibly expensive neighborhood. You felt a grin spread across your face as you read the rest of the note:

“Save me the trouble of coming to your job again. 8:00 pm tomorrow.

-K.”

You knew exactly where you were going to be tomorrow.

A/N: i literally cannot thank you guys enough for sticking with this, i know the wait has been absolutely insane, but i really do love writing for you guys, and i want to thank each and every one of you for reading <3 as always, my requests are open, and feel free to like/comment/rb if you enjoyed this fic :)) thank you all again for your patience and for all the love - i had NO idea my first kilgrave fic would blow up so much, but i'm delighted that it did!

🍓 the title of this fic is from million dollar man by lana del rey 🍓

#kilgrave x reader #kilgrave smut #kilgrave x reader smut #kilgrave #david tennant #david tennant smut #my fic

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jojotichakorn · 12 days ago

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i started penning a post about how i always find it narratively unsatisfying when an arc ends with a conclusion the following arc breaks, regardless of how realistic the repetition of the same mistake might be, which is still true, but i actually want to talk about something else right now.

i feel like, at least at this stage, jack is in a position that is both generally unrealistic and untrue to the specific events of the series. 'jack and joker' has a clear focus on poverty and money and class issues, but it seems to treat jack in a very special way. he somehow manages to stand on the moral high ground above other characters. specifically, other poor characters. which is, first of all, a little ridiculous, since he was indeed a debt collector and, in fact, almost became the boss's son. and, second of all, is generally Not Great, because it does idolise the idea that if you "just try hard enough", you won't "allow" yourself to be backed into a corner and therefore won't have to do bad things.

now, don't get me wrong, i am not saying that our characters who have made mistakes are completely blameless. tattoo did shitty things (and hoy followed suit), safe did shitty things, hope frankly admitted to enjoying doing shitty things. however, if we zoom out a little, we will see that all these characters are in a situation that is inherently unfair to them. we have all of these poor people in immense amounts of debt and then we have this disgusting rich motherfucker whose entire wealth is literally based on making their lives as miserable and unfair as they are. and i think that, in this particular case, the series would have actually benefited from a dichotomy. don't get me wrong, i'm usually absolutely brimming with nuance and also asking "what lies outside of it?" but this shall be my exception. (though you could say that joke already brings some nuance to it - he is initially from a well-off family and he actively makes choices to the benefit of poor people, despite it resulting in him being ostracised from said family and its riches).

jack walks the line of being poor and managing not to do anything "too bad" like he is a fucking circus performer on a wire. and, don't get me wrong, he is genuinely a selfless character. he makes choices that a lot of other characters in the same circumstances wouldn't make. he remains in debt and continues working for the boss because he keeps trying to help people and pay off their debts first - that is admirable. however, he himself was already set up for more success than others. sure, being forced to become a debt collector isn't a walk in the park, but most other debtors didn't even have that choice. jack has to work for the boss in order to stay afloat - that is an undeniably hard task. the other people the boss collects debts from, however, have to come up with a lot of money out of thin air - that is not simply a hard task, that is an impossible one that is designed to trap them in the cycle of doing this impossible task forever. that being said, ultimately, jack is still poor. his own hamster wheel should be somewhere around the corner, that's always the case. this idea is where i wish they would have taken jack's arc.

from the moment when he refused to marry rose, there was no escape for him. finally, much like our other poor characters, he found himself stuck between a rock and a hard place. (and i think that it's very thematically appropriate for jack's particular "i can't do this anymore, i deserve to live a full life" sentiment to be connected to love, since he is, after all, a lead of a romance drama). he made the decision to say "no" and from that point on, he was completely and utterly fucked. because, realistically, that conversation that he had with the boss after refusing rose was insane. i don't know what he would have done to jack exactly, if that was a genuine conversation and there was no exchange of jack's freedom for the ring, but it would not have been anything good.

so i wish jack had to make the actual tough call there, instead of having joke save him all on his own (and later take the fall for it). and if it was, at least in some capacity, jack's decision to steal that ring, he would finally be placed in a situation where every other poor character already inevitably found themselves in. because the entire system is rigged against all of them and they are eventually always forced to do things that they should have never even had to consider in the first place. but they deserve better than living a life set up for them by evil rich people who literally live off of their suffering and they are allowed - no, at some point they simply have no choice but to - fight for a better life.

this, in my opinion, would have been a much more powerful message and - not to circle back to my personal preferences - would have also not left us with joke making the very same mistake that we decided we should never make again at the end of the previous arc.

#jack and joker #jack and joker: ep 10 #archer watches j&j

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tokiko220 · 3 months ago

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Noone talks about The Drummer and the princess movie enough and ESPECIALLY not about the people behind it. It puzzles me to this day.

Warning, extremely long post but i really wanna archive all this.

For those who don't know, in 2018 Angels Pictures released a teaser trailer( CZ EN) for this movie and it obviously looked shit for a movie made after 2000 ESPECIALLY when people were claiming it cost 80 million CZK to make (3.5 mil USD-ish) which is an insane amount of money for a czech production. Plus in the czech trailer they have an uber popular czech singer Karel Gott appear revealing he's voicing in it, they even have a super low res photo with him from the studio.

(honestly i'm pretty convinced they met him once for the recording of the trailer lines)

So allegedly 80 mil CZK 3D animated movie with a bunch of celebrities voicing in it! Wowza! Why does it look so shit? EDIT: CORRECTION! After going through some more documents this is in fact and estimate of how much they think the movie is going to cost- they seem very upset people get that wrong. But honestly I don't think anyone actually thought they spent that much money on it.

Immediatelly bunch of czech news websites started rolling out articles about it because obviously, it was ridiculous. It looked ass the trailer is pretty cringy and they have all that stupid self congratulatory bs about giving 4% of ticket sales to kids because its made for kids. With love♡ People are ridiculing the hell out of it, obviously, but then a rumour starts that it's a all a publicity stunt. Obviously noone would make something that looks this bad in the year of our lord 2018! Angels Pictures don't hesistate and start nodding their heads aggressivelly. They pat themselves on the back for coming up with this new cool marketing strategy they dubbed "The Spites and Envy Promo."

They post this stupid, self congratulatory post talking about how they actually intentionally made the teaser bad, saying they modified it with "minor technical imperfections" (MINOR??????? IMPERFECTIONS????). According to this interview some guy named Jeremy came up with this genius and "innovative" plot. But if you read the interview (in czech unfortunately) you'll also find out the teaser probably looks so bad because no, there isn't actually really a movie at this point! Which is insane, given they released the teaser in September and promised a winter release! They apparently work by recording the dub first and then animating for it. In the interview he says they have about 20% of that done. But whatever, they keep insisting it's all part of the plan dude! The movie is going to release in like 28 countries and it's gonna be huge. (if you speak czech i totally recommend reading that interview it is enlightening lmao) I don't need to tell you I think the "spite and envy" promo is a bunch of boloney because if you're looking to drum up views and popularity through controversy you don't turn off your youtube comments about it.

Back in 2018 I was having a riot following this and despite being convinced it is not going to come out, I was posed to see it day 1 in the theatre if indeed it did come out (afterall, they're giving 4% of ticket sales to kids ♡) They continued to flaunt their genius marketing strategy and even bragged their teaser became the most watched czech animated movie trailer on youtube! Which while true, it doesn't really mean anything, because they second most watched actually came out and made money, while The Drummer and The Princess entirely missed their initial release date with no explanation why! On their website the release year kept shiftin ever forward and in 2019 they added the "RIP Karel Gott" to the trailer, so I know you're out there GIVE ME MY MOVIE!

Spoiler alert, it's 2024 and we still don't have the damn movie! But ever since then I've been completely fascinated with these guys, so let me bring you towards the about us section of their website, because it's frankly hilarious. Meet Angels Pictures!

Starting with Alex Pieter you'll notice he proudly states he's the author of the "project" The drummer and the princess. The second thing he mentions is that he's a member of MENSA and makes sure to explain it is an association of people with high IQ because you wouldn't know anything about that. Underneath that he lists a bunch of things he did which really just reads like when you put literally ANYTHING you think is relevant and makes you look good on your CV, like that he cooperated with big names like Vin Diesel or Catherine Zeta-Jones or Gerard Depardieu. Generaly a bunch of jargon to try and make him look super cool.

There's also this guy but he's considerably less funny and really jsut looks like your regular marketing guy. He's not even in MENSA.

Back then I was still wondering whether this was all an elaborate joke, and I may even believe it if these two guys didn't sound like the most start up "trust me bro" marketing guys. That really marks the end of The Dummer and The Princess, but I'm not done with Angels Pictures quite yet! You see, I thought they got me all excited for this movie and then dipped but no, they were planning something even cooler.

A video game.

Honestly, you need to see it to believe it.

youtube

After seeing this, I genuinely started doubting myself again. Like this has got to be a joke right?? What in the mother of all asset flips...

It was supposed to be a VR experience (but also non VR) about .. uh.. well....... Flying aroung?? And there will be vampires.. and dragons?? Whatever they found on the asset store I assume. But not in the base game! You see, the clever MENSA head over at Angels Pictures came up with this new game monetization model called "Modular System". You buy the base game called "The Radix" and then you can buy additional packs such as "Oh, Look!" which adds interesting sights to this flying simulator (making me wonder what the base game even does have). Then we have "Vampires" which I supposed adds the Italian Vampire Palmira who does not believe in wearing pants. Also a bunch of other "modules" that add things to "duel with for treasures". Yay.

Those with a keen eye might notice this isn't actually entirely their idea, this has basically been The Sims 4 monetization scheme since literally forever, but as much as I hate to admit it, at least the sims actually like.... You know.. Gives you something? And isn't an asset flip. And ... exists. Oh yeah, spoiler alert, the No*1 game with the funniest flying object (whatever that means) never did come out, I know, we're all shocked an crushed about it. The actual website for the game went down (which is why I'm making this actually, everday I fear all of this will dissappear) but there's still stuff about the game on their company website such as;

The release Timeline. Lofty goals, per usual. I don't need to tell you none of that happened because if it did I wouldn't be writing this and I would instead be playing Magic Carpet game swith the Vampire and Space module.

Continuing the scroll we can find that they claim to be a studio of "roughly" (???) 30 artists.

Ah yes, nothing is quite as innovative as a VR asset flip game that gives vague description of what it's actually going to be about. Reminds me Dream World.

I don't know what kind of artists they are but whoever made that purple green logo should be fired promptly. Also as you can see they are still bragging about the huge success their marketing campaign was and using it to seem credible- never mentioning that the damn movie never came out. The kids are still waiting for their 4% (which btw they never quite mentioned what charities they are planning to give that to.)

Now let's check out Alex's updated profile for the game;

He's really come to his own since The Drummer and the princess. He's still a member of MENSA, a global association of people with high IQs, but I think it's adorable he updated his photo to be a picture of him holding a controller like he's a gamer girl on instagram. He's just like you, fellow gamers. He's a 3D artist now and an IT specialist and programmer! Is there something this handsome devil can't do?! though despite his newly acquired 3D art skills, the game somehow manages to look worse than the movie trailer.

I also wanna point to this, purely because I wanna archive it. "A game that simply isn't on the market" yeah but what is it ABOUT Alex???? It's honestly a hilarious read and a look into "the sicks brains on their team."

After all of that, what's the conclusion?? I dunno! I think these guys really missed their calling as MMORPG Fundraiser scammers, I think they really would have popped off with that. My theory currently is they try to set up these projects and websites and try to make themselves look as credible as possible to get investors for their stuff?? But I also cannot imagine it ever actually worked out? And obviously they never delivered on anything they promised so I just don't know! Besides they actually did work with Karel Gott and that's nothign to scoff at! I wish I could find out whether it was because they have an in with him or whether they paid him (if so, with what money? I can't imagine getting someone of his caliber to voice for you is cheap).

That marks the end of this insanely long rambling about this thing I've been obsessed with for years now and really wanted to archive in some limited way. Now I'm just waiting for them to come up with some new project that involves AI.

#i wrote this in like two hours while experiencing coffee jitters #but yeah ive been going insane over them for years #its sooo fucking funny i love it and i must share it with people #čumblr #czech #the drummer and the princess #magic carpet games #angels pictures #ř

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abyssruler · 2 years ago

Note

i love how u write the delinquent childe esp in the 711 diaries… he is everything i could ever want if it isn’t too much trouble can u write a little drabble of him?? idm the content <3

7-eleven diaries spin-off

childe x gn!reader

fluff, comedy-ish, friends to lovers, getting together, childe basically being your sugar daddy

from my other fic the 7-eleven diaries with hints of delinquent childe sprinkled in, sort of a continuation on childe’s part and what could’ve happened if he’d been more persistent. ok so i rarely ever actually write requests bc i’m too lazy but you bet if you request anything for childe i will most likely do it. i just love writing him

Your friend Ajax is a little strange—scratch that, he’s a lot strange.

“So, as I was saying, my friends and I are hosting a party at my house, and I’d really like it if you came.”

His eyes bore into you, a sort of blue that mirrored the depths of the ocean. It’s no wonder he intimidates a lot of people, his eyes alone could scare anyone with thalassophobia. Luckily for you, you don’t have much fear of anything besides failing class, which is why you’d have to turn down his offer.

“Can’t. I’ve got a test tomorrow.” You pick up a soda that’s frankly worth more than your entire week’s worth of allowance and scan it.

Ajax leans on the counter, blinking his eyes up at you in what he probably thought was cute, but really only managed in giving you the ick. “Aw, c’mon. Pretty please?”

“I’m charging you extra if you don’t stop bugging me.”

He sighs dramatically, conceding with a pout. But the calculating look on his face tells you that you should be on your guard for the next few days.

✧

You were correct.

Your classmate Ajax is annoying.

He’d gone from being a slight bother in the 7-eleven you work at to somehow being enrolled in your university and coincidentally sharing all of your classes. Even the ones that don’t have anything to do with his major.

“Hey, let’s have lunch together after class!” He accosts you while you were in the middle of placing your things back in your bag. You were about to say no, citing an excuse about meeting with a friend or finishing some unfinished homework, but your attention was caught when he adds, “Don’t worry about the money, I’ll pay for our food.”

And so you find yourself sitting at a high end restaurant, staring at a menu that lists the cheapest food possible as the exact amount of your monthly salary. Ajax remains unbothered by the price, watching you with his elbows on the table and fingers interlocked, chin resting on top of his hands and waiting for you to pick which one you’d like.

Well, he did say he was paying so…

You order the ones you’d have never been able to afford and, for good measure, an expensive cup of ice cream that would normally cost ten mora at any convenience store. He doesn’t even flinch when the bill is presented, only smiling like he’s having the best day as he hands his card to the waiter.

He even drives you home that day with his fancy car that looks just a little too polished for you to mistake his intentions. He’s bragging and trying to impress you.

And, well, consider yourself impressed.

✧

Your boyfriend Ajax is crazy.

Not even the fun kind of crazy, no. This is beyond insane, a catastrophe, borderline harassment—

“I’d like to dedicate this song to my lovely sugarpie who deserves the world and more!”

He’s standing outside your classroom window, a guitar in hand while his friends hold a microphone to his mouth and a speaker that would make even your university’s auditorium speakers sound like a whisper. People are staring, students and professors alike pointing at him and then to you, a grin on their faces whilst some of the older professors look scandalized.

Ajax remains smiling, singing the cringiest song you’ve ever heard in your life with his off-tune voice. Not even Venti made you feel this much second hand embarrassment.

With one final wink and a kiss he blows in your direction, he ends the song.

You hate Valentine’s Day.

(At least the chocolates and flowers were good.)

#i- this became more than a drabble jsjdjsjsh #asks #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #ajax x reader #gn reader

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the-old-witch-writes · 2 years ago

Text

Day 2 🡆 Monsterfucking (Jinbei x afab!reader)

summary: as the Madame to one of the most popular brothels in the Grand Line (no matter what Black Maria might claim), you've been in the business long enough to live by three rules.

no kissing.

never except less than what you're worth.

don't fall in love.

and in all this time, you have never broken these rules. well, except for Him, of course.

pairing: Jinbei x afab!reader, onesided!Kizaru x afab!reader

cw: Jinbei is probably so OOC and i'm sorry for that, reader is a sex worker and a Madame, also is in her mid/late 30s, so there's at least a ten year age gap between reader and Jinbei, reader has a name, gentle dom (mostly)!Jinbei, no use of y/n, she/her pronouns, afab reader, sexual content, reader also smokes, bit of a size kink, slight dumbification, blood mention, biting, Jinbei has two cocks and that's all you need to know, slightly possessive undertones, despite everything reader is pathetically (and secretly) in love with him, the feelings are implied to be mutual...but you know how One Piece men are when it comes to their FEELINGS

Prelude

his solid thighs slap into yours relentlessly, his tall body looming over yours as he groans in your ear.

“Hng, oh my god—!” he praises in his near whiny voice, clearly enjoying himself. “Your pussy’s so good after all these years, like silk, baby! Missed it so much!”

and you? well you just keep resting your head on your folded arms, eyes on the wall in front of you as you fight the urge to fall asleep. how long has he been here? your bored eyes dart to the clock hanging on the wall, and your painted lips curl into a sneer. too long.

with a sigh, you clench around his throbbing cock and roll your hips back to slap your lush ass against him, knowing that drives him insane. the old bastard’s been obsessed with your ass for years, and he gets absolutely ridiculous whenever he watches it move, whenever he even touches it.

“O-oh, oh fuck, baby...! Gonna make me cum!”

see what I mean?

hurry up then, you think, blowing a strand of hair from your face. there are more important things for you to do, more people to see. more money to make. the night is still young, after all, and you and your girls gotta eat and keep that roof over your heads steady—and quite frankly, you can only tolerate his presence for so long while remaining sober.

“—So good, so fucking good,” he finally chokes, and then he’s letting out that long groan, his greedy hands squeezing right at your ass as he tosses his head back. “Aw, yeah, take it all baby, yeaaaaah—”

you feel the warmth inside you, filling in the condom he’s wearing, and a bit of relief eases from your chest.

Fucking finally, you think with a long sigh, barely noticing him pulling out and putting himself back together. I’m gonna need such a strong drink after this.

very quickly after, when your rather low cut kimono is back in place, you are leaning against your desk and counting the money he handed you.

“All the belli should be there,” he assures you, still wearing his usual oily smirk—like you weren’t making him cry with your cunt minutes before—and adding in a low voice, “Along with an…extra donation.”

you raise your eyebrows in appraisal, despite still eyeing the money you count. once you see the amount originally promised to you, plus the extra he claims is there, you give him a nonplussed look.

“That’s rather generous of you, Admiral,” you tell him with a gracious nod, slyly reaching behind you to place the money in your lockbox. “We are grateful for your continuing patronage.”

he stares at you, the lenses in his glasses flashing as his eyes narrow slightly.

“…Is that really all, my dear?”

“What else is there to discuss?”

he stares some more, then—with his cheeks slightly flushing—he clears his throat. “My proposal, perhaps…?”

the urge to roll your eyes is strong, but you manage to resist it—barely.

“Kizaru, I’ve told you already,” you tell him, as you have told him a million times prior. “I’m not marrying you.”

his expression falls slightly. “But why not?”

“I’ve told you why.”

“But you haven’t seen him in years, doll. You told me yourself. He’s probably dead by now,” Kizaru croons, his smirk widening as he reaches his long arm to offer you his palm, gold rings glinting under the light. “You’d benefit more if you come with me. I’ll take good care of you, promise…”

you raise one eyebrow, expression dry. then you nod to the door out of your office. “You should go back to your men, Admiral. They’re probably wondering where you are.”

Kizaru’s glasses glint again, just as the offered palm twitches. your gaze remains steady on him, the hand behind you grasping lightly at the hand canon you keep on you at all times.

but then Kizaru lets out a slow, but still chilled laugh.

“If you say so,” he says, adjusting his white coat along his shoulders. “But you really should reconsider, darling. I personally love your establishment and the services you offer—but Akainu will not be so forgiving if he finds out.”

your mouth settles into a frown. it’s not a threat, but the truth is undeniable. this meeting with Kizaru will not be the last—in fact, it will be necessary to keep you and your girls safe.

at least for now.

two pairs of feet are at the door, their steps so light, they might as well have been the wind. you lift a hand up in a gracious gesture.

“Good night, Admiral. Bella and Donna will walk you out.”

“Oh, no, that’s unnecessary. Thank you, of course, girls,” he says to the two masked young women dressed salaciously in red and black. “But I remember my way out…”

you shrug, resisting the urge to spit the spot on the ground he’d stood on—that carpet was a gift from a dignitary in Alabasta, and it would be a shame to have it ruined further—and then fold your arms across your chest.

Suit yourself…prick.

and with a few steps, he is finally—finally— out of your sight.

once he is gone, Donna turns to you. because her mask only covers her eyes and part of her nose, you can see how her painted lips twist in a disgusted sneer.

“Did he really offer marriage? Again? Does he not know what ‘no’ means?”

you take out a cigarette and, once it’s between your lips, quickly ignite the end with the flick of your lighter.

“He’s a pig who answers to the World Government. Of course he doesn’t.”

Bella frowns, a near pox on her soft face and then she lifts her hands to quickly sign, “Are we safe, mistress?”

“For now,” you reply gently while sitting down in your chair. “But be on your guard. We don’t know how long Kizaru’s ‘kindness’ will last.”

a pause.

“Well, pig or not, he’s pathetic—very much like every other man who’s proposed to you,” Donna sneers, hands on her hips. “Why don’t they all just move on?”

Because I’m good at what I do, part of you wants to answer, but you shrug instead. to make such a statement is unnecessary.

“I wouldn’t put too much blame on them, really,” you say with a smirk while spinning your chair to face your window, seeing the full moon overlook the calm sea. just looking reminds you of the smell of salt, of drinking sake and talking, of him holding your hand, of his sharp teeth on your throat—

after taking a slow drag of your cigarette, you release a smoke ring in the shape of a blazing sun.

“Not their fault I was ruined for human men years ago.”

The Return

weeks later, when you get news of his arrival on your island—of him heading towards your establishment—every inch of you bursts into flame. your hands start to shake and your skin is flushed from heat and longing and oh my god he's finally coming to see me after all this time.

no time to waste. you've got to get ready.

you leap to your closet to go through the dresses hanging in your closet, shifting until you come across a particularly lovely and salacious kimono—one you recall him liking quite a lot—and then snatch it off the hanger. the robes still fit you, thankfully, with the sleeves hanging slightly off the shoulder and your ample cleavage still covered but only enough to entice, to tease.

turning to the mirror, you start to fix up your hair. memories inspire you to undo your bun and leave it flowing down your back, over your bare shoulders. you run a hand through your hair to give it some volume and check the mirror. Perfect, you think. he will be pleased to see your hair down; he is very fond of running his fingers through it.

(you are too, of course. there is little you would do for him.)

when you hear the knock, you leap back to your desk. you lean on the edge, lifting one leg through the part of your kimono to lean your foot against the mahogany, just enough to reveal one of your rather thick thighs through the parting, but still enough to maintain your modesty. you quickly grab your pipe and inhale the weed inside, to give yourself an air of nonchalance. of the aloof and mysterious madam running the best brothel on this side of the Grand Line. (no matter what Black Maria says.) you don't pine, let alone fall in love—much like your girls don't. you have not been eager to have him visit again, after all these years. aloof and mysterious Madam Spider Lily, they call you.

you imagine you’re quite a sight at the moment. any man would absolutely salivate at the sight of you.

and that’s why you’re so nervous. because the truth is, he is not just any man. he is unlike any other man you will ever meet, in many ways.

still, despite your stomach fluttering—or perhaps because of it—you clear your throat and finally call, “Come in!”

slowly, the door opens. he steps inside carefully, ducking his head and leaning one palm against the doorway. when he’s fully inside, he stands at his full height—which would loom over three of you stacked together—and then stares down at you, his expression softening.

“Sayo,” he rumbles out your name, like the word itself was a prayer.

feeling weak, your expression begins to melt as your eyes widen and sparkle up at him.

God, has he always been this…massive?

trick question, of course he has. it was the first thing you noticed about him years ago, when you were twenty years old and just green enough to be feel uncertain about sleeping with a Fishman for the first time—let alone one close to Fisher Tiger, who wasn’t really known for being…kind to the girls you worked with at the time—but now? seeing him after two years?

your thighs squeeze together, trying to quell the wet heat gathering there, the ache slowly building. your tongue swipes across your mouth, just as your eyes turn dark.

“Jinbei,” you reply, making your voice like the softest, most expensive silk. while taking another puff of your pipe, you start to step away from your desk. “It’s been quite some time.”

“Two years,” he says.

And six months, two days, you add mentally while making a show of inspecting your nail, your fingers first curling into your palm and then stretching outward.

“Oh, really?” you say. “I hadn’t noticed.”

Jinbei watches you, his head tilting slightly. then the side of his mouth quirks upwards as his brow twists to make his expression wry. he steps towards you slowly, almost like a prowl really, and gently places his palms on either side of your hips. and throughout all that time, you refuse to look up, even with the heat spreading across the back of your neck, even as you begin chewing your bottom lip. but then a cool hand cradles the side of your face, thumb stroking near your chin. then Jinbei is grasping your chin, gently turning your head, and then tilting it upward so you’re looking right into his eyes. your throat tightens, the eye contact is a lot, but you don’t fight him.

“…I missed you, dear,” Jinbei whispers.

heart fluttering, you reply, “Truly?”

“Truly.”

the sound of his voice makes you melt, a smile spreading across your flushed face automatically as your eyes cloud over—but then you catch yourself in time. you sit upright, then move away from his grip to cross your arms over your chest, expression freezing over.

“Words are cheap,” you tell him. then, with a jerk of your head, a challenge in your expression, “Show me how much you missed me.”

Jinbei’s expression falters for a moment, the gaze in his dark eyes melting into something he is still afraid to name, even after fifteen years of this thing between you two—but again, only for a moment. you likely don’t catch it in time.

the hand previously cradling your face quickly moves to rest on the side of your torso, right under your arm. slightly stunned, you feel Jinbei’s other hand grasp your other side and with barely a struggle, he lifts you off the ground until you are at eye level with him. breathing harshly, you feel your heart hammer against your ribs, feel searing heat shoot right to your cunt. he stares at you for a moment, his gaze full of fire, before tossing you over one of his shoulders.

and you’re stunned, for a moment, before placing your palms against his back and glaring over at him.

“H-hey, this was not what I meant…!”

“Where’s your room again?” Jinbei mutters, looking around the room before he notices the door on the left of your desk. “Ah, there it is…”

before you can protest further, the door is practically kicked open and you’re thrown right onto the soft bed with crimson sheets. a yelp leaves you as you bounce, and you stare up at the ceiling to try to catch your breath.

How dare he—? Treating me like this, you think with a whimper. It’s hardly fair!

you barely sit up before one hand is on your throat to pin you down while the other is on the inside of your right thigh—spreading, exposing, claws digging slightly into your soft skin—and then, of course, Jinbei’s there. his breath is hot, his teeth nearly graze against your folds before his mouth opens and then his tongue delivers a fat lick along your slit, resulting in a weak moan leaving you, the pleasure tearing apart your resolve, reminding you just how badly you’ve been wanting him inside you, after so much disappointment from other men. how much you’ve been aching for his attention. a small, dreamy smile starts to spread across your lips as your cheeks flood with heat, as you lay back and let him have his way.

then, just as you start to relax, that tongue is thrusting inside your cunt, thick and twisting and relentless.

you let out another moan, shaky but deep from your throat, and then writhe against the bed, the only sensation grounding you is the feel of Jinbei’s giant hand tightening slightly around your neck, keeping you in place but giving you enough room to call out your safe word if the moment called for it—not that it crosses your mind, really, you’re too overcome with your desire for him.

still, as Jinbei seems intent on eating you alive, you still can’t help but writhe on the bed, mind growing empty of all thought. you want more, it’s too much, it’s not enough, he should be more gentle with you it’s been so long, I want him to fuck me like a beast—

embarrassingly (well, for you), it isn’t long before you fall apart at the seams, your eyes rolling back and your toes curling as you scream and scream, waves of pleasure spilling from you. he snarls against your cunt, satisfied at the slick gushing into his mouth, dripping onto the sheets. his long tongue continues to thrust inside you, to twist and swirl—anything to make sure every inch of you feels him—and then it’s curling right there, right where you’re reaching your peak.

finally, as your lower stomach tightens and your teeth clench, the fire building inside you becomes impossible to control.

“J-Jinbei!”

you press your palms at his shoulders, perhaps as an attempt to push him away, to tell him to be gentle with you—but he’s too big, too ravenous. your small hands probably feel like nothing to him right now. you try hard not to whimper at the thought, at imagining him looming over you and how his presence brings out something in you no other has. men like Kizaru are pigs. fucking them is barely business anymore, it’s a chore; something you do to make sure you and your girls stay fed.

how can any man mean anything else to you, after He ruined you, so many years ago, when you were young yet had a heart full of cold steel?

“Jinbei, please…!”

he lets out another growl against you, mixed with a deep moan. he pulls up from you, swiping his tongue across his mouth, his eyes dark but full of warmth. no other man has ever looked at you like that, like you mean something. like you’re more than just another whore to throw money at when the deed is done.

seeing that, your heart trembles, even as the gaze in your eyes hardens. you refuse to hold back anymore.

your hands reach up for the collar of his kimono to pull him down to meet you. although Jinbei is much stronger than you—that even trying to pull him to do anything is like moving a stone—he still dips down to bring his mouth to yours. kissing him is a bit of a challenge—his mouth is full of sharp teeth, so your lips are never left without bruises or slight cuts, no matter how gently he always tries to handle you—but you don’t care. with a moan, you tangle your tongue with his; and with a needy mewl, you reach up to tangle your fingers through his hair and then rest your hands on his shoulders, the sides of your mouth stinging already as the kiss deepens.

you barely notice Jinbei undoing his kimono, or the fastens of his pants—but when you feel him, oh you feel him.

gasping, you eagerly look down to see both his cocks out and ready, and your body clenches with need. immediately, something feral and burning erupts from inside you, causing your hands to clench around his shoulders.

Jinbei swallows, watching your expression carefully.

“H-how do you want…?”

“Both,” you answer instantly.

his brows rise to his hairline, eyes wide as he sputters out, “Both?”

licking your lips, you nod. your eyelids close to hood your gaze while you sneak a hand down to stroke one of his long, fat cocks. “I want all of you,” you purr out.

hearing that, Jinbei’s cheeks flood with color and there’s this odd sparkle in his eyes—and then, fire.

with a little squeal, you find yourself on your stomach, your bottom half lifted up so you’re kneeling on the plush bed. Jinbei crawls behind you to mount you, your ass right against the curve of his cocks and his thighs right behind yours, practically forcing them apart. the tips of them brush right against your entrances—the bottom one pressed right at the slick folds of your body, while the one on top is pressing right against the pucker of your ass—and you bite back a moan.

he looms over you then, growling against the shell of your ear. “Ready?”

you can barely speak, can only nod frantically, pressing your face against the bed as you hum out in a near whine, “Mm-hm, mm-hm…!”

“Good.”

then he’s pushing in and in and oh god—your mouth parts to let out a long, keening moan as your eyes go clouded, your mind empty. fuck, fuck, he’s still so big and with both cocks inside you, you’re left so full. you really shouldn’t try to take him. most sane women would have ran away. but your body only clenches and sucks him in deeper as he moves gently inside you, opens you up so you can take more of him.

with a mewl, you start rolling your hips back to meet him, making Jinbei let out a choked groan behind you before he firmly places a hand to your lower back.

“Stay still,” he demands in a growl.

“Jinbei,” you beg in a whine, squirming under his cool palm. “Need you…”

“Sayo, I won’t risk hurting you. So stop being a little brat,” Jinbei emphasizes with his webbed fingers grasping the roots of your long dark hair, the pressure still enough to keep you in place as he growls, “and do as I say.”

with that said, he shoves the rest of himself inside you, his fat cocks stuffing your holes instantly. your back arches as you let out a broken moan, your thighs trembling. Jinbei groans behind you, then looms over you to breathe hotly in your ear.

“Can I—?”

“Please!”

he huffs out a laugh but obeys instantly, proceeding to fuck you so hard and fast your eyes end up rolling back. it isn’t long before the only sounds in your bedroom are your moans bouncing off the walls, the sounds of your skin meeting his, and the soft but filthy words he whispers into your neck.

“…Look how your body sucks me in so eagerly, darling,” Jinbei rasps, his grin widening at how you cry out wordlessly, your eyes glossy and tearing up with each drag of his cocks inside your body. “I forgot how greedy you are, how much of a whore you can turn into when I fuck you…”

you let out a moan, barely a string of words together. “…you!”

he hooks his hand under your chin and tilts your head up so he can bore into those wide eyes of yours. “What’s that, dear? I didn’t hear you.”

“Only for you,” you repeat, sounding clearer through your moans. you blink tears away and add, “Only for you, Jinbei!”

Jinbei pauses a second, his expression faltering a fraction—and then he’s snarling, a flush across his cheeks.

“Damn right!”

with that growl, he dips his face downward to the side of your neck and sinks his teeth into your shoulder, eagerly suckling at the little drops of blood that seep from the wound. as you let out another cry of his name, Jinbei increases the ardor in his thrusts, making sure to drag every inch of him against the spots inside you that make you see stars. while one hand remains under your chin, his free hand sneaks between your legs and begins stroking your pulsing clit to the rhythm of his thrusts.

it isn’t long before your moans become longer, until your voice starts to tremble.

“J-Jinbei, I can’t, I can’t—”

Jinbei doesn’t respond beyond licking at the bite wounds he left on your neck and increasing the strokes of his fingers on your body. then, before you can even think to hold back, your whole world explodes in pleasure that gushes and gushes out of your cunt. you scream along with it, each wave of your orgasm hitting you and making your knees buckle into the bed—the only thing holding you up being Jinbei’s hands going to your waist and keeping you in place as he uses you to chase after his own orgasm.

“Yes, darling, just like that. You’re so good, you always are,” he praises, his groans becoming choked. “I’m almost there, almost—!”

he suddenly moans, long and deep as his cum gushes inside your cunt and ass, dripping around his cocks and dribbling down the inside of your thighs. then Jinbei nearly collapses on top of you, turning his head to leave fervent kisses and bites along your neck and shoulders.

although you’re practically a drooling, moaning mush of a woman, you can’t help but start grinning drunkenly as he leaves you an utter mess on the bed.

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