#I need to find it again it doesn’t even have to be good

[simpjaes]

HYPER-SEXUAL (s,jy)

If there’s anything in life that Jake wants, it’s to fuck. All day, every day, it’s on his mind. He fantasizes constantly, watches porn every free chance he gets, and ultimately has grown bored of his own hand to satiate his need. or the one where jake is inexperienced, incredibly perverted, and borderline addicted to sex but cannot, for the life of him, land a girl.

leave feedback and reblog to give jake another boner. 

minors do not interact. 

WORDCOUNT― 13.8k

PAIRING― jake sim x afab reader

CONTENT― smut, inexperienced but pervy and dominant jake, he kind of has an addiction to jerking off, im not joking like he has a boner every twenty minutes it’s probably a medical issue but, reader is really sex positive and lets jake go absolutely insane on her

NOTE― not proof read in the way it needed to be.  disclaimer: this is straight up just porn. it had a plot at one point but i deleted all of it and wrote this instead. also this is posted on my other blog for mark lee. yes, i wrote it for both of them bc they both fit the shoe ok? ok.

smut tags under cut:: 

smut tags― jake isn’t submissive– just a loser, loads of masturbation, also loads of loads lmfao, jake’s dick is 8 inches in this one, public humiliation, dirty talk, teasing, pussy eating / face sitting, mentions of free use, unprotected sex, wayyyy way too much cum, raw grinding, attempts at deep throat, accidental face fucking, finger fucking, suffocation, riding, squirting, implications to the fact that orgasms are not the end of the fic bc they just keep going, some say they’re still fucking to this day. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“Feels so good! Harder! Fuck m-” 

Jake slams his laptop shut in an exasperated sigh. Frustrated, annoyed, fucking horny. 

Always horny. To the point that nothing excites him anymore. Not his hard-on being palmed at by his own hand, not the make-shift pocket pussy he’s made out of household objects, not the porn on page one or on page seventy-three. 

Honestly, even as hard as he is now, it’s arguable that he could just start punching his cock and he’d still remain in this state until something changes. And you know what sucks more than not being able to get off? Being hard so constantly that it’s just a state of living at this point. 

It’s sad. He could be washing caked ketchup off of a plate and his cock would still lend a little jump. A reminder that his hand is no longer enough. A fucking threat that if he doesn’t sink into a pretty hole soon, he might as well just kill himself. 

The idea doesn’t seem too bad anymore, as he lays flat on his back with his cock in hand on his messy sheets. He stares up at the ceiling with another long-winded groan, wondering why he has to have such an insatiable libido and probably twice as much stamina. If he could just get off he’d have at least a little bit of time in his day to feel normal before it takes hold of his brain again. 

It’s the fact that he’s grown entirely numb to his own hand and feels like he’s going crazy because he hasn’t been able to hook-up with anyone in nearly a year. Porn is boring, he swears he’s seen just about all of the good, bad, and bizarre. Post nut clarity barely exists because there is no clarity by the time he finally gets that hard-to-reach nut. Bad luck, maybe. Awful fucking miserable luck? That’s more fitting. 

For the sake of the girls in this city, perhaps it’s good that he can’t manage to land a hook-up. Surely they’d be unable to walk by the time he gets his fill, that is if he manages to get a fill at all. And it’s gotten to the point that Jake has almost entirely given up on finding a girl at all. One that’s willing to put up with his near-constant need to get his dick wet, anyway. 

Almost given up.

A thought crosses his mind as he lazily palms himself with a bored sigh, knowing he’ll end up locked up in an asylum somewhere if this doesn’t stop. The voice of Jay in his head doing little to make his cock soften, which is…not something Jake is proud to admit.

“Dude, you gotta put a stop to this shit. This is your third laptop this year!” Jay had said to him. “It’s only June!”

Maybe Jay was right, and maybe Jake should have downloaded the new app that was mentioned shortly after the scolding rather than immediately going to another, even more, shady porn site. “Heard this one was really good.” Jay had advertised. “Even got Jungwon laid.” 

Well, maybe it wouldn't hurt to try another app despite the immense amount of failure Jake has already faced regarding previous attempts with other platforms. After all, if it got Jungwon laid, surely it could get him laid too. 

Maybe this one really is better.

And at the end of the day, Jake does download the app. After all, creating a profile is easy, finding a girl though? 

We’ll see.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Ah. Okay. Nice.

Jake stays glued to his phone all night. He really had no hope that this app would offer him anything more than what the others did. But, oh. 

The app allows specific features, most of which are not aimed towards users looking for a relationship. Dick and body sizes are out in the open, there’s sections you can fill out regarding what you’re looking for in a sexual partner, how often you’re willing to see said partner, and if you’re looking for a regular fuck or a one time fuck. 

Safe to say, Jake’s profile went a little something like this: 

you can call me jake, im 24. just looking for a girl either for regular visits or a one night stand that’s willing to deal with a guy who literally suffers from chronic-boner syndrome.

LOOKING FOR: Female PREFERENCE: One Time Only, Occasional Meetups, On-call, Regular meetups, Permanent Friends-With-Benefits, Secret Meet, Virtual Meet, Audio Meet, Rebound C…[Click to see more] PARTNER REQUIREMENTS: N/A SIZE REFERENCE: 8 ½” hard, 4” soft, 5.6” circumference SEXUAL INTERESTS: Vanilla, Free Use, BDSM, Begging, Breeding, Dom/Sub, Dominatrix, CBT, Role Play, Public Humiliation, Edging, Spanking, Dirty Talk, Phone Sex, Virtual Sex, Group Sex, Humiliation, Cock Play, Cum Dump, Religion, Raw, Multiple Orgasms, Androgyny, Genital Piercings, Older Women, Body Art, Wax, Anal, Financial Domina...[Click to see more]

NOT INTERESTED IN: Cuckolding, Voyeurism OTHER: im not very experienced in most of these, i just watch a lot of porn

Embarrassing? Yeah, probably. 

Looks like a lot of women are into that though if his inbox is anything to go by, anyway. With him checking the app every few minutes to find ten new messages? Yeah, they’re feeling him. 

He can only imagine what the fuck Jungwon had on his profile to actually land a hook-up. Couldn’t have been any worse than his own, after all, Jake is desperate and so was Jungwon at one point. 

Apparently girls like desperate guys. 

Message after message, degrading comments and praise, all from either women clad in leather or sweet looking church girls who must have the app hidden deep within their phones. There’s barely anyone in between those two categories, actually. 

“Hi baby boy, you looking for a sugar mama?” 

“ur dick really that big? lol, what do you even mean by ‘chronic boner syndrome’?” 

“you’re so desperate to get laid, might as well just doxx yourself at this point…please.”

Arguably, these women are very forward and he has a great time sifting through the ones he’s interested in. Scrolling through all of these messages….does not help his case regarding his insatiable need to fuck something either so, naturally, he’s also 100% jerking off the entire time he’s doing this.

Still, never quite able to reach the orgasm he needs by this point.

Up until there’s a message that catches his attention. No degrading, no insults, no borderline-too-kinky insinuations. Which, given, Jake probably shouldn’t have selected the majority of the kinks just to pull more girls, but he did. 

And upon reading the message, he almost doesn’t know if this girl is real. 

“High libido, no girls around to help you out, I take it? Rough.”

One look at her profile spikes even more interest. Her sexual interests include a list of things he wishes he didn’t fit. But he does, though he’d never admit it. Inexperienced men, losers, virgins, micro-penis, big penis, praise (receiving), body worship–

Oh.

Fuck yeah.

He responds quickly, already feeling the orgasm within him bubble up as he tries to pretend he doesn’t go on a war path of responding to everyone after you, but still. Your message box with him remains in his mind as he awaits the response to his message of “you looking to help me out?” 

Every ping on his phone afterwards makes his cock twitch more, makes it dribble out little beads of pre-cum with each pass of his palm, only for him to sigh out of frustration that it’s just another person that wants to devour him whole. Which, he’ll take what he can get if his first choice never responds but still. He wants to get off to you.

He finds himself on your profile more often than anyone else’s too, looking at the same three photos you’ve posted, noting how you don’t seem super active on the app, but active enough to find him by some beautiful grace of God. 

You’re kind of perfect, honestly. Fairly mundane compared to most of the women in his inbox, but cool nonetheless. He can tell you have an eye for fashion but it seems to be more geared towards your real life self rather than the secret fetish/kink app you’ve got downloaded.

And that’s the thing. Most of these women, beautiful or not, are dressed in their best sexual attire just to message a possible fuck, while during their daily lives they probably wear conservative dresses and pant suits. Which….arguably that’s kind of hot. Then again, what isn’t hot to him these days?

You though. You have normal pictures posted just like he does. Your tits aren’t out, your legs aren’t open, you don’t have a pile of sex toys behind or beside you and yet still your pictures turn him on more than those who do. Insane how his cock twitches at just these three photos, fucking insane how he grows a near instant obsessed thinking about how you…uh, deal with the losers you seem to be looking for.  

Then again, maybe it’s the mystery of what’s under your clothes, or what’s in your stash of sex toys. Oh, whatever you’re hiding has got be so fucking hot. Naturally, he groans at the amount of sexuality you barely give. Thinking far, far too hard about it all, given the circumstances. 

Don’t get him wrong, he can get down with the hoes. In fact, he very much wants to get down with a hoe. But man, the way you stand out because you’re somehow….boring compared to everyone else?

Please.

Fucking pretty please, let him in between those thighs. 

And just as he scrolls again through your photos, that long-awaited orgasm hits him like a brick.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

A mere two days later you find yourself in the inbox with the self-proclaimed boner-god. He’s since proven his size with photos involving different objects beside said penis, and even a video or two of his frantic hands jerking off to you. 

Ah, he’s kind of perfect if you think about it. At first you thought that it was just roleplay for him or something. Where he plays a guy who can’t get enough, though he clearly probably does. It wasn’t until you were woken up at four in the morning with him spamming your inbox that you suddenly realized this dude is actually as desperate as he seems. 

Normally, being spammed awake by your phone pinging consistently would bother you. But goddamn was he needing it. Just three hours before now it was mostly casual conversation with him, albeit about hooking-up, but still. The two of you agreed to determine on the following day if you were compatible enough for a meet up. He said goodnight to you, and you said it back. 

Then you woke up to three dick pics, one voice note with a borderline pathetic apology (only because you could still hear him going at it), and then like fourteen messages of him trying to wake you up intentionally. 

JAKE_02 sent you a message: You awake?

Dick pic #1. 

JAKE_02 sent you a message: You’re so pretty, sorry lol

Dick pic #2 

JAKE_02 sent you a message:  Wake uppppppppppp! 

JAKE_02 sent you a message:  Please? :(

Dick pic #3, precum smeared across his fingers as he grips it. 

JAKE_02 sent you a message:  Do you already have me silenced?

JAKE_02 sent you a message: I’d let you silence me hahaha….

JAKE_02 sent you a voice memo: “Sorry about all this, I really meant it when I said I have a problem. You should probably just block me because I’m going to end up begging to see you otherwise”

Oh, he has an accent. 

JAKE_02 sent you a message: your profile says you like inexperience…..well i’ve only slept with like 3 girls, is that inexperienced enough?

JAKE_02 sent you a message: do you like to tease guys like that? like edge them and stuff? 

JAKE_02 sent you a message: oh damn, that’d be so hot 

JAKE_02 sent you a message: do you like it when guys beg btw? 

Etcetera. 

And, well, apparently he just has a lot to say. It’s cute how embarrassed he must feel basically getting himself off with a one-sided sext session with you as you were sleeping. At least, you hope he’s embarrassed. 

You let his messages simmer for a while, waiting to see if he sends anything else. And when he doesn’t, you respond. 

YOURUSERNAME: that was cute. 

It’s the way he’s instantly trying to respond that really gets you going. You chuckle first, knowing already that you’d probably help him out based on this situation alone. 

YOURUSERNAME: trying to wake me up because you can’t stop touching yourself? :( poor baby. 

JAKE_02: oh god please don’t say that

JAKE_02: im gonna end up awake all night trying to get it to go down again

YOURUSERNAME: that’s good to hear. so you can go for a long time then? 

Yes, you’re teasing him. 

JAKE_02: if you’d let me

YOURUSERNAME: you already got off tonight tho, didn’t you?

JAKE_02: i don’t think you understand just how bad it is. i’m already getting my dick out again

You lend yourself a sly chuckle after a deep yawn, knowing for a fact that you’re about to make him prove to you that he’s either still hard or really did get off only to get hard again by a mere few messages from you. 

YOURUSERNAME: show me?

And he does. Similar to the other three photos, only this time he sends a short video with his shorts pushed down his thighs and his cock raging hard and pathetic against his stomach. Again, he’s big, that much is true, but the fact that such a dick is always ready to fuck? To the point he’s desperate? To the point he’s embarrassing about it?

YOURUSERNAME: how bad do you wanna bury that in me?

Oh, shit. Jake could fucking die right now. You seem so willing, which is truly what he needs at this point in his sexual sickness.  

JAKE_02: i’ll come over right now. 

JAKE_02: let me come over and show you

YOURUSERNAME: let’s wait a bit for that, gotta meet officially before I let you fuck me

And you do intend to make him wait, knowing for a fact that you’re not meeting this guy tonight. There’s too much danger in that. Given how desperate he actually is, you can argue that if you changed your mind upon meeting, he very well may not care. Which, that’s something you need to worry about with any person you meet on such an app, but still.

Public meeting first. 

Always.

JAKE_02: right, right, that makes sense. 

JAKE_02: so can i see your pussy then

You stifle a laugh as if the man can hear you, he’d probably like that though. But yeah, no. As much as you know he’d enjoy that, it’s best to let him experience it for the first time in real life if all of this goes well. So, you settle with tits. 

Meaning, he has to settle with them too. 

And the photo is all but enough for Jake. The ping of his phone was far too exciting with the flash of the image sinking into his eyes. Sure, he wanted to see your hole open for him, he wanted to see your pretty hands spreading your lips for the picture, he wanted to see what he might get to fuck into someday– but…

This is good enough for him, honestly. Seeing your tits alone is hot enough, but it’s the fact that you only barely let him see. The plush skin of your lower breasts are peeking from under the shirt you're wearing, one nipple barely out, the other completely hidden. 

He moans out at it, holding his cock tight and painfully as he glares into the screen of his phone. God, he can almost taste it. 

JAKE_02: thats so hot…but….

JAKE_02: pussy….

JAKE_02: please show me your pussy

Another chuckle at how desperate he really is. You lower your phone just a bit, not at all intending to show him all of it but you do lend a panty shot with your legs spread. He’ll live with it, he doesn’t have a choice. 

And he does live with it because he cums almost instantly upon seeing just your thighs open. He wouldn’t have been able to hit climax so quickly had you already had this photo posted for all to see. It’s the fact that you sent it to him in the dms. It’s the fact that you presumably just took it for him. It’s the fact that he can almost see the outline of your folds, and the lines of your pussy that deserves to fucked open. 

When he doesn’t respond immediately, you know it was enough for him. Already you’re preparing to roll back over and get some more sleep, but your phone dings again. 

JAKE_02: tht was hot lol….um

JAKE_02: can u come to the mall tomorrow? i work at [redacted store name], u can come see that im actually very normal if u want

You stop for a second through another yawn, thinking long and hard about it. You shrug to yourself because tomorrow is a saturday and there’s plenty of public spaces to meet him in. And despite how fun it could be to tease him for weeks on end before officially meeting him, you, yourself, have been in a dry-spell lately. 

And he fits your interests perfectly. In other words, yeah, you could fuck.

YOURUSERNAME: you sure you’re not gonna take me in the back and fuck me on the spot? 

JAKE_02: ….would u want me to? 

YOURUSERNAME: no, i wanna bring you home if i think you could make me feel good

JAKE_02: hahah damn

JAKE_02: so you’ll come see me?

YOURUSERNAME: yeah, i’ll come see you

JAKE_02: ok cool :)

And then it’s silent for a long while. In fact, you’re nearly asleep again when your phone pings one last time. All you need to see is the notification to know that meeting Jake is gonna be fun. 

JAKE_02 sent you a message: for the record…i definitely will fuck you good

Sounds promising. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

You knew he was cute but holy shit, he’s like, cute cute.

Fucking handsome and charmingly cute. 

Perhaps even, hot. 

You stand from around a shelf to check him out. That same accent you’ve heard previously rings loud and clear in your head, and his hair is definitely a stylistic mess, the type of hair you can imagine grabbing and tugging to guide a tongue between your legs. His eyes are pretty and piercing yet equally as filled with some sort of wonder. His hands, his body.

 Oh wow. 

On any other day, you’d think he’s just some poser emo-guy working a shitty retail job so he can buy his first guitar and play it totally out of tune. But on this day, you’re aware that this is a man with a need that you very much wouldn’t mind satisfying. 

 Seeing him go about his work tasks behind the counter is another thing. Checking customers out both through the register and with his eyes when they walk away. You know he isn’t aware that you’ve actually shown up, and it feels nice to watch him in his element before he attempts to play himself up as a totally normal, cool dude. Especially now that you can see him secretly be a pervert on the clock. 

Customer after customer, he smiles at them when he hands them their items, he offers small talk and little chuckles that ring in your ears, and every single time one of the pretty ones walks away, his head turns to watch them leave for a few seconds too long.

Anyone can tell he needs it if they watch him for long enough. 

You’re not sure why this guy is getting to you the way he is, but there’s just something about the way that he carries himself in public that turns you on. You already know for a fact that he’s a horny motherfucker. You know that behind those charming smiles and laughs, he’s got a neglected cock needing to be used. 

No one else in this store is aware of it. You’re the only person here who knows he was spamming a stranger last night with dick pics and begging to see her pussy. 

It’s hot. 

And when you approach, Jake nearly doesn’t even know it’s you at first. 

“Hi, did you find everything you–” Jake stops mid sentence. “Oh, fuck. You’re here.”  He adds, trying to primp his hair into a spot that may look a little better than it did already.

You watch as he studies you for the first time, nervously darting his tongue out and against his bottom lip just for a split second before shifting his eyes behind you, and then turning to look around to see if anyone is within ear shot. 

No one is paying attention to either of you, and no one is going to hear what you’re about to say to him. Good.

“Do you wanna see my pussy?” 

It’s a joke, mostly. Kinda. 

You chuckle at his stunned reaction. His hands move to the counter as he clutches it and continuously looks around to make sure no one just heard those lewd ass words from a girl so goddamn hot. Like, oh god, it’s you. You really showed up to see him and already he’s not acting normal. 

No, no. You’re the one acting out of pocket, not him.

“I’m–” He tries to start, but his voice cracks in a very, very, embarrassing way. You hear him clear his throat before continuing. “I’m supposed to be showing you that I’m normal.” 

You tilt your head at him playfully, leaning against the counter and pushing your tits together with your arms. You wore this shirt here for a reason, and boy are you glad you did. You watch his eyes go straight to your chest and stay there. 

“Public Humiliation.” You echo one of his sexual interests to him from his app profile. “Dirty talk.”

Jake swallows around his words in stunned silence, feeling his cock wake up immediately. Fuck, this is the only place he finds peace of mind from…that. Yet here you are, with that soft and pretty voice reminding him of everything he wants but hasn’t been able to have. Standing there like you know he can’t bend you over right now and make you stop talking.

“Eight and a half inches hard.” You continue, leaning in even closer and moving your hand to the collar of your shirt. Tugging down just a little bit. “Five point six inch circumference.” 

Jake squeezes his eyes shut as he leans back with a sigh, pressing his hips against the counter for some sort of relief. To think the “boring” girl on the app wouldn’t be like this? God, he knew there had to be a catch considering you were on that app to find him in the first place. 

“Please–” He groans as his ears redden, lazily opening his eyes to look at your tits again. “Please don’t do this to me.” 

“I can imagine you’d fit it in me just right, wouldn’t you Jake?” You continue briefly, noting the bulge he blatantly presses against the counter. “Can you say ‘please’ again? It’s kinda hot.” 

“Please–” Jake blatantly groans now, his voice sounding hoarse and low. As much as he wants you to keep going, he’s at fucking work. He can’t be doing this. 

“Okay!” You gleefully agree as you switch up like you didn’t just fuck him up, lending him a bright and innocent smile as you lean back and away from him. “So you don’t want to see my pussy then?”

His relieved face falls right back into that of pained frustration as he narrows his eyes at you. 

“Right now?” He asks curiously, nodding his head without realizing it. Sure, he’s at work but like….your pussy is also at his work place right now.

“Yeah! Can you show me to the fitting room, actually?” You ask, louder this time in case anyone has moved around within ear-shot by now. Can’t make him lose his job, or whatever.

Jake swallows thickly with a nod, his eyes still narrowed at you but his mind racing a mile a minute at the fact that you’re really here right now, and this is what you’re doing to him? Enjoying his pain? Enjoying his suffering? Making it worse? 

Five minutes ago he was perfectly fine. You’re using his need against him and god, he loves it. Yeah, maybe he will take you to the back and try to fuck you at this point. Even if you said that you wouldn’t let him…what the fuck is this then? 

Really, he expected you to show up with an awkward hello and irritating small talk. He wanted to show you that he’s not always thinking about sex. Except he is, and it seems you want him to. You want him to think about fucking you. 

You really just walked into this establishment and asked him if he wants to see your pussy.

Of course he wants to see it. You already fucking know that. He wants to fuck it too, like, right now. 

And as he walks you to the fitting room, he has to try his damndest to adjust his growing cock. He nods to each customer as he walks by them, hands repeatedly going back to his lap to hide what he’s packing.

“Here it is.” Jake says in an unfocused voice, nearly staring a hole through you. “Now show me.” 

You dip your head in a smile, heading for the room and opening the curtain. Cheap ass store, really, most places have actual doors, but whatever. 

It’s easy to step inside and leave the curtain skewed a bit, knowing that Jake is hovering around the room, knowing that it’s probably protocol that an employee assist this space when it’s in use to prevent stealing and to prevent others from walking in on naked customers. 

You like the way you see him take peeks, trying to be discreet. You like the way he keeps his hands in front of his lap, hiding that you’ve definitely made him a mess of him already. You love the way he whispers a curse to himself when you sit against the bench in this small room and spread your legs wide open. 

You bet he loves the skirt you’re wearing for him today too. Though this wasn’t exactly planned or anything, you didn’t expect to be this turned on upon seeing him act as desperate as he sounds. You wore this shirt so he can look, and the skirt too…but looking this much wasn’t in your mind originally. 

He’s hot though. The way he needs it is hot. 

“Hurry up.” He groans, trying to make it seem like he’s frustrated but you know it’s just because he’s anxiously horny. 

And, well, you’re not actually gonna show him your pussy, but at this point you feel bad because he seems really stiff right now, almost robotic in the way he likely feels uncomfortably aroused in his least favorite place.  

“Jake,” You whisper-chuckle. “If you wanna see it, you’re gonna have to come in here and take my panties off of me.”

You hear him sigh, and see his eyes flick back to you through the small open space in the curtain. 

“You’re insane. I can’t come in there, I’ll lose my job.” He argues with a hushed tone, eyes fixated on the very panties he wishes he could remove. 

Even against his protests though, he reaches an arm in as he looks away. As if on extreme watch of other customers and employees roaming around. Probably pretending to grab a garment that doesn’t work for you, probably just doing normal, good-employee things. 

And, well, it’s pathetic really, the way he hopes for more. The way you offer more knowing he can’t get exactly what he wants. You actually feel a bit bad for doing this, especially because it wasn’t entirely in the plan. 

You really were just coming to meet him. It’s not your fault that watching him work turned you on solely because you know what he needs. So, you stand and walk towards the curtain, grabbing his arm and holding it in place. 

“Well–” You start, pressing yourself against the backside of his fingers, feeling him move his hand slightly against your clit. “Touch it then.”

He goes entirely silent but you feel the way he fumbles his hand, immediately grabbing your panties and moving them to the side just to really feel. And you let him, finding it somehow cuter in the way he doesn’t even ask. He does it like he needs to, like it’s instinctual to touch it. He feels for a second or two, probably closer to about five seconds before you step back. Really, it’s enough for him to know you’re wet, enough for him to suffer, enough for him to want more. 

Jake’s brain is on fire at it. Touching it before getting to see it? Goddamn, you’re so fucking mean.

And it’s silent for a few more moments after that as Jake keeps his hand in place, seemingly searching for a pussy just out of reach when you slide the fabric down your legs and place them directly into his hand. 

“When do you get off work?” You ask slyly now, ripping the curtain open and moving his hand for him, forcing him to shove your panties in his pocket. 

“Uh–” He stutters, swallowing again around his words before clearing his throat of the moan he really needs to let out right now. “Seven– I get off at seven.”

You nod with a smile, leaning in real close before patting his pocket. 

“I’ll text you my address.” 

And you leave without sparing him another glance, knowing that by the time his shift is over, he’ll probably pounce the second you open your door for him. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Jake suffers through the rest of his shift aggressively trying not to suck on his fingers. Fuck, he wants to taste you so bad, but to go as low as sucking the remnants for several hours just to hold him over? Truly, he’s at his wits end. 

Mostly because he absolutely does suck his fingers any chance he gets. Tapping his lips with them as he sees a customer off, licking against them discreetly, trying to make it look normal for him to have his fingers in his mouth so consistently. 

It’s not doing anything to hold him over though. 

He keeps glancing at the clock, and then at the message that reads your address. Just one more hour and he can leave. Just one more hour and he can bury his cock so deep into you that you’d never think twice about letting him do it again, and again, and again.

Oh god, really, he feels like he’s going insane as he checks out customer after customer. Every word they say somehow reminds him that he’s about to finally get laid again. 

“Can you wrap this up for me?” One customer said to him, nodding to a set of candles. 

Jake wishes you’d wrap him up in that pussy. 

“Do you have this in a bigger size?” Another customer had said to him as they held up a plush sweater. 

Jake doesn’t think you’d ever need a dick bigger than his. He’ll fill you up just right. 

“69.99?!” One customer argues. “The sign said it was 30% off!” 

Jake would sixty nine you all night long if you asked. He bets you taste sweet, you probably get really wet too. 

And by the end of the night, rain pounding on the roof, his last customer unfortunately has to hear a low groan leave his throat at their comments. He’s very quick to cover it with a cough. 

“Sorry for coming in right before you close, the rain is bad tonight and I forgot my umbrella, thank god you guys sell them! I didn’t mean to drip all over the floor like this, I hope you don’t have to stay late cleaning up my mess!” 

“I didn’t mean to drip all over your floor like this” Replays in his head, over and over again. God, he’d make you drip. He hopes you drip all over the floor for him. He’d get on his knees and lick it right up, god.

He needs to leave. Right now.

“S’all good,” Jake shakes his head after the initial moan and cough cover, trying to remain casual. “It’s my job to clean it up, after all.” He smiles, his brain stuck on the feeling of how wet you were when he touched you. Shiiiit. “Have a good night, stay dry!” 

And finally, Jake can close out his register and lock the doors. That, he does. Performing his end-of-night tasks at lightning speed with a cock throbbing so bad that he worries he might have to get off in his car before making it to your apartment. He genuinely needs to get off, especially knowing these pretty panties are in his pocket ready to be soaked in his cum. 

He doesn’t though, no. He holds off, thrusting his hips up and against the inseam of his pants with every passing second as he drives. He’s practically writhing by the time he gets to your place. Honestly, he moans with each movement because he’s sensitive. It’s so, so fucking sensitive. Everything feels good, he could genuinely cum the second you open your door if he’s not careful. 

Careful isn’t something Jake can be at this moment though, not when he lands a single knock at your door and you’re immediately opening it, looking at him with that same fucking evil smile you gave to him while he was at work. 

He looks at you and instantly lets out a frustrated moan before stepping in without another word. You feel his hands grab you much harsher than you originally thought he would, but you let him as you laugh out in a nervous chuckle. 

“Hello to you too.” You pat him on the back as his arms wrap around your middle. You hear him kick back against your door, slamming it shut before his lips hit your neck. 

He isn’t talking but goddamn you can hear what he needs to say through the way he presses his lips against you. He’s rough with it, kissing all across your exposed skin before slipping his hand right between your legs from the back as if he doesn’t have to chase anymore. 

You were going to jerk your hips back to make him chase, but his grip is too tight and he’s nearly lifting you off the floor entirely to get a feel. You were going to force him to look at you and the outfit you changed into for him, but again, he’s not having it, it seems.  He moans when he moves his lips up and against yours, hot breath desperate and needy as he finally speaks.

“Did it turn you on to torture me like that?” He nearly growls against your lips. “Got me so fucking hard.” 

You’re genuinely surprised with how he’s acting and talking. Then again, he’s desperate, that much is obvious if that monster bulge rubbing against your leg is anything to go by. Perhaps he may be desperate, but you guess that doesn’t always mean someone will end up submissive as a side effect. 

“It did.” You smile against his lips, pushing yourself forward to try and plant your feet back on the ground, chasing the ability to gain control over him. “Did you like that?”

Jake nods before shaking his head, allowing you to push forward, loving the way your hands reach for him and run through his hair before tugging. He did like what you did, but it doesn’t change the fact that it was fucking torture to stand there at work like he wasn’t losing his mind. 

“I’d like it more if we skip all the bullshit,” He starts, hand still attempting to reach the spot between your legs and lips landing at the corner of your mouth. “Could go all night.”

You nod to him, gripping his shirt and pulling him back to your living room couch and spinning him around, only to shove him back. 

“Is that a promise?” You ask, looking at the lazy way he spreads his own legs and rests his head against your couch cushions, eyes staring straight at you and cock twitching in his pants. “You gonna fuck me all night?”

“Yeah–” He breathes as if he’s in disbelief, hand reaching between his legs just to grab himself and squeeze as his eyes trail your body. “You have no idea how bad I need this.”

“Show me then,” You nod your head to his length that’s hidden under his pants. “Let me watch you first.”

Jake groans, rolling his eyes back both out of frustration and arousal, but he does as you say. His palm feels better with you watching, at least. He doesn’t feel so numb to the pleasure with you promising your body to him, at least. He doesn’t mind proving his size to you by shoving his pants down to his thighs and presenting said neglected cock to you either. 

It’s heavy, dark in color due to the blood that’s likely rushing throughout every inch of it. He feels sensitive to even the air in your living room as he twitches and aches to hear you talk again, to see you in front of him watching how he pleasures himself, wishing his hand is yours. 

“You wanna watch?” He says in a low-rumbled voice, tracing his fingers along the head of his cock and seething out a breath through his now, bitten bottom lip. “Wanna know how tight I want you to feel?” He asks now, bold and in the heat of the moment. You watch him when he squeezes the base of his cock tightly, you can almost feel yourself choke at that alone. 

“How wet you need to be to take it?” He continues, dragging his hand back and licking his palm before spitting into it. 

The wetness against his hand is horrifyingly pornographic. So wet when he reaches back down to his length, allowing you to hear it squelch and slip with ease. His breath is hitched while he does it too, which nearly has you seeing him in tunnel vision.

“Yeah…” You tune into him entirely, swallowing around the lump in your throat and feeling yourself drip already. “I can’t imagine how good–” You cut yourself short to moan at the way his other hand holds his pants down while he jerks his hand up faster and faster. “Oh god, you’re–”

“Wanna see how fast I can cum just looking at you?” He continues, hand only moving faster and faster as his grip tightens more, shamelessly grunting proudly over how he could probably cum now if he wanted to. “I told you, I can go all night.”

You pause, because goddamn. You thought he would be embarrassing, pathetic, needy. You thought he would beg, plead, and cry. But…you feel like you’re the one who needs to do that. God, you’ve never seen a man so desperate to fuck yet be so powerful about it. As if he’s in your face whispering, “You’re gonna let me fuck you, right? You’re gonna love it too, right? You’re gonna let me use you to take care of this little problem of mine, right? It’s what you want, right?”

If he were to say those things to you right now, you’d nod without a doubt. But…he doesn’t. He simply looks at you now, heaving out broken moans that sound too sexy to be considered pathetic. His hips chase each movement of his hand and goddamn does he fuck his fist hard.

Your mind is spinning watching him, knowing that he’s probably going to fuck you twice as hard as he fucks himself. And it’s not surprising to you at least that you can feel your own clit swell and throb for touch too. You easily move your hand between your legs, standing right there in front of him, toying with yourself as if you don’t have the power to ask him to do it for you. 

“Ah, fuck–” Jake groans, thrusting his hips up into his hand one last time before strings of his cum make a mess on his shirt. And it seems to go on forever too, spurt after spurt of it pumping out of him alongside his pretty moans and open-mouthed expression. You can feel your body react to him more than it ever has for anyone else, especially in the way….

“God–” You moan yourself now, watching him spread his legs and slouch more against your couch with a relieved sigh from his messy orgasm. But…his cock doesn’t soften. No, it stays stiff and heavy against his stomach, twitching and dribbling more and more of his cum out in little beads. 

The proof of his issue is right here, he really can and probably will go all night. And you say nothing else to him after that. In fact, he wouldn’t be able to answer you if you did say something simply because you find yourself stepping up onto your own couch, resting your knees against the back of it, and gripping his hair. 

Jake lets out a half-moan-half-hum, as expected, when he feels your hand drag his face under your skirt. You didn’t have to do that, but goddamn does he fucking love it. He loves how he can feel your knees buckle and force you to balance on the couch, loves how your cunt is just as needy as he feels, fucking adores the way you drip all over his tongue when he pushes your panties to the side and starts licking you up. 

It’s the fact that he didn’t even have to ask you to put it in his face. The slight taste against his fingers all night at work is nothing compared to the way you drown him now. He needs to do this for you. Hell, he needs to do this for himself.

“Jesus,” You breathe, rolling your hips on his mouth. He’s truly eating you like his life depends on it. You can hear his muffled hums at the taste, you can feel his shoulder shake as he starts jerking off again, you can feel the way his tongue goes deeper and deeper, licking each clench of your walls, only to pull back and suck the wet from your panties in a deep breath. 

He coos at it too, as if he’s in love with the moment, as if he truly can’t believe he’s finally got a pussy to lick. And he swallows each mouth full of your slick before muttering curses and promises against your swollen little bud. 

“Please,” He moans, nipping and licking against you. “Been so long since I’ve eaten pussy, rub it on me- fuck-” he continues to babble, heat-of-the-moment-talk coming out as far more arousing than cringe if you listen hard through your ringing ears. “Come on,” He continues, now neglecting his own cock and gripping your ass with both hands, shoving you back and forth on his face in painfully slow and harsh grinds. “Come on, harder.”

As if you can function at all right now with how rough he is about trying to pleasure you? Fucking hell, the words ignite something in you as you pull back and away from him. For a split second, you see his blown out pupils and fucked up hair as he licks his lips and presents that shining lower-half of his face to you. 

You don’t look for long though, no. Because you’re too busy pushing him to the side and forcing him to lay back on the couch instead. You resume your position afterwards, straddling the couch on either side of his head with your knees and planting your pulsing cunt right on his eager tongue. 

“You’re too hot,” You moan, feeling his hands go straight back to your ass to force more of those harsh grinds against him. “If you could see yourself right now–” Your eyes roll back in pleasure as you feel his moaned out chuckle hit you right in the clit. It’s like he knows he makes you feel good, but does he really? 

Does he truly understand how fucking good at this he is?

 “God, if you could feel how good your tongue is–” You continue, now losing yourself in the heat of the moment, feeling his fingers nearly bruise your ass with the death-grip he has on you. 

He nods his head in what little space he has as he spirals into heaven behind his eyes. The smell of you suffocates him, the taste of you drowns him, the weight of you is nothing short of sexy as hell. This is all he could ever want. A pretty girl using and abusing his face, much like he wants to do to you. But oh, there’s so, so much he wants to do after so long of having no one but himself. 

Eat you out, finger fuck you, slide his cock down that pretty little moaning throat of yours, grip that hair and kiss those tits. God, he wants to do everything right now but he can’t bear to push this perfect clit off of his lips. He cannot fathom losing the taste of you and the way you clench around the tip of his tongue. 

Oh fuck.

“Ahh- '' Jake moans open-mouthed against your clit as his brain hits a wall, his cock standing stiff from behind you as he spills out against himself again. Untouched completely, he cums without any effort where as previously it took him hours just to get off because he’d grown so fucking bored of everything. 

You’ve ignited him. His drive is higher than it’s ever been after being neglected for so long. God, he wants to fuck you so full that you can’t bear to leave him. 

“Fuck–” He continues, trying to lend licks between his jerking body to keep your arousal peaked. “See how bad I need it?” 

He finally manages to pull back, feeling you lift from his face just for a moment after noting the way his entire body is shaking. He’s not having it though, as he cranes his neck in chase of your dripping hole once more.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He adds now, enveloping his lips around your clit again and using both hands to force you right back down on his face. 

There, you feel the way he almost passionately makes out with your pussy. As if he’s thanking you for a second orgasm within the past ten minutes. As if he truly can’t stop wanting to fuck something, someone, anything at all.

Goddamn, what a fucking deal. All hail the hook-up app that brought this insatiable sex beast to your apartment.

“Jake–” You start, grinding down for him and feeling his hands now move to rub up and down your back. “Keep your tongue in me.” You choke out, gripping his hair to hold his face in place as you sit his tongue inside of you, short and jerky thrusts forward to bump your clit against his nose. 

He’s gotten off twice now, it’s your turn. 

And you watch as he drops his arms from you and grips your outer legs through it, letting you use his face until he can’t breathe. Both of you are seeing stars through it, your orgasm bubbling up so quickly that you can barely warn him when your hips halt in a stiffened clench and he’s finishing the job for you. 

Your legs squeeze around his head, your fingers pull his hair, and still he manages to find the space to tilt his chin up just to tongue-fuck you deeper, just to rub his nose harshly against your clit, up until he feels your quivering pussy spill all over his chin, down his throat, stealing any breath or moan he could possibly give right now. 

You’re out of breath by the time you finally slide off of his face, your hands immediately shooting to both of his cheeks as your sensitive clit drags down his stomach for the easy position change. You wince when you lick against his lips at the sensitivity, being sure to seat yourself right against his cock. 

“Hah–” Jake lends a breathy laugh against the way you lick his lips, his hands going right back to your ass and landing a sharp slap to it. “Couldn’t even get our clothes off first.”

You take a second to pull back and look at him, noting the redness against his cheeks and nose, likely from your panties consistently getting in his way and then you chuckle back at him. You’re thankful for the short break the two of you seem to be taking at the moment. Still, you lift up from him just to remove your shirt, exposing your tits in an instant solely because you didn’t wear a bra for this exact purpose. 

He’s still hard, despite two orgasms. You feel him rubbing it against you every few seconds, right up against your saliva and cum-soaked panties which, mind you, are insanely uncomfortable right now. It feels as if they’re slicing through your thigh with the force of how Jake managed to keep them shoved out of his way. 

“Just lay back,” You smile at him, allowing him a longer rest for now as you take it upon yourself to remove the barriers. “Let me take care of you now.”

Jake has hearts in his eyes as he watches you. Normally, a girl would already be falling asleep after all that, leaving him with not enough orgasms and no actual fucking. It’s not his fault he could do foreplay for upwards of three to four hours before going for the finale. Which, arguably, can and will last several hours longer. 

Still, you appear to not be finished either, with your breathless smile and gentle hands. He bites his bottom lip through a smirk as he watches you, tits on full display to keep him satiated for now as you move around on the couch to get his pants off of him. He helps a bit with a little kick, his cock still so sensitive and pathetically weeping for more. He feels lucky to have found you, almost baffled that he may have met his match. 

You lend several glances at his cock, not quite realizing the way he’s blinking at you right now. To be fair, it’s only natural to have your attention on that thing right now. You swallow around your nervousness regarding the size but equally want him to fuck you senseless with it. You already feel entirely fucked out, but…that. Oh, that could change your life, probably. You can imagine he won’t be as gentle as you expected before all of this too. Would probably shove it in all in one go and lose his mind at the feeling. 

He’s probably going to split you open and make it feel good for you too. Somehow. 

Anyway, enough of that. You’ve still got to get his shirt off, your uncomfortable skirt and panties too. 

You make quick work of it, as you stand to your feet and expose yourself entirely to him. Jake just watches, humming and moaning at each new expanse of skin you show to him. He keeps his hands to himself though, likely so used to feeling of them that they’d bring no pleasure at this moment if he were to jerk off to you doing this. And you just…look right back at him.

“Come on,” You smile at him again, lending your hand out for him to grab. “Bedroom will be more comfortable.”

Right. Bedrooms exist.

Jake follows, cock heavy and sensitive against his thigh with each step as he tries to get up close behind you. His eyes stay on your ass as you walk in front of him, and it’s not hard for him to keep his hands on it. In fact, he’s touching you as often as he can, trying to remind himself that he’s with someone right now who actually wants him. 

You seem to be willing to let him do what he needs tonight, and hopefully it won’t be the only time. 

You feel him on you, clinging so closely, hands constantly groping, lips always trying to reach the back of your neck and shoulders, to the point it’s actually difficult to get to your bedroom because you want nothing more than to turn around and shove him against the wall, all to try and take him into your mouth just to see if you can.

He doesn’t really let you think about that for too long though, because the second you get to your bedroom, he’s grabbing you from behind and lifting you in his strong arms. You writhe in his grasp with playful giggles, feeling the strong hold he has on you, keeping you in place against him as he stumbles forward with a deep inhale into your neck.

He’s quick to make his way to your bed, dropping you onto it, flipping you over onto your back, and immediately slotting himself between your legs. He hovers over you for a minute, looking directly into your eyes as his hair falls forward. 

Somehow, you’re more focused on his face than you are of his cock that he’s sliding up and down your core right now. You reach up to his hair, brushing it out of his face and feeling the sticky sweat at his scalp. 

“Could eat you out again.” Jake mentions, hips thrusting against you but eyes calm and level with yours. “Could lock me up in here and just use me all day if you want.” He continues, partially being serious about it, but treating it as if it’s some kinky joke instead. 

Because let’s be honest. If there’s any job Jake could do better than anyone else, it’s be a woman’s fuck toy. Always ready to go, always stiff and horny, always willing to please. 

“Could slide in right now and let you feel how hard I am.” His voice gets breathier as he talks, and you can tell he’s just imagining everything he wants to do. He probably worries he’ll have to go home at some point tonight only to resume his search for potential fucks to keep his need satiated. 

He probably thinks he’s going to exhaust you. 

“Could let you do all of that and more.” You respond, lifting your hips just slightly to press his cock between your bodies, throwing your legs around his waist simultaneously with the way you wrap your arms around his neck. “You want me to lock you up in here?” 

Jake nods with a sigh, squeezing his eyes shut as if he can imagine it. 

“Do you work tomorrow?” 

He shakes his head with another sigh, focusing on the way you keep humping up against his length, sliding yourself in whatever way you can against him. 

“Maybe I’ll just have to do that then.”

Oh, damn. 

The heart eyes are back. The very thought of being in this room all night and all day tomorrow drives his cock to pulse and twitch. Foreplay can come whenever, fucking can come whenever, he can cum whenever. There’s no need for a to-do list. No need for a specific structure of rules on how this needs to happen. Foreplay, sex, sleep. Not with Jake. 

Sex. foreplay. sex. foreplay. for hours. He’ll keep you up all night if he can, fucking and sucking every part of you, into the morning hours straight into tomorrow night. 

Free use with you from now until you’re tired of him. You can do anything you want to him but for now…

“Yeah?” Jake breathes out in excitement, arching his back slightly to let his cock land against your hole, and then he pushes forward slowly. The bulbous head spreads your lips and stretches out your slick pussy with ease as he continues to speak. “Feel that?”

Your eyes flutter shut at the sensation, fingernails already digging into his shoulders at the anticipation as your legs loosen around him. He continues to push forward, inch by inch, painfully slow as if he wants you to feel the burn and stretch even while being as wet as you are. 

“Ah–” He confirms for himself as he watches your face, wincing, mouth falling open. “Yeah, you feel it.”

God, yeah. You do. You feel the weight of his size inside of you, stretching you open so good he probably wouldn’t even have to move for it to hurt. But he does move, he does continue to slide in, savoring every second of your walls quivering and suffocating his cock. 

“Goddamn,” He groans, lifting up on both arms and bracing himself as he looks down, only to find he’s only slid half of his dick into you, and already you’re about as breathless as he is. “Didn’t realize how tight you’d actually be–” 

He chokes when he says it, sliding out little by little before fucking back in, pushing just a bit more into you.

“S’okay.” You try to reassure him, but it’s more for you than it is for him. You really didn’t think a cock could feel so big that it actually hurts, yet, here you are. “I’m adjusting.”

Jake moans at your broken voice, no longer holding himself back to look at your pussy grip him when he pulls out slightly. He looks at your face instead, witnessing how you take all of it in one solid movement from him. All of it, until he can feel his pelvis rest against your clit and your entire body stiffens in a tight hug around his body. 

“Mhm,” He leans back down now, humming against your cheek as he tries to control the urge to fuck. “Taking all of it, aren’t you?”

With those words, he slides out slightly before pushing back in again, trying to force your pussy to relax so that he can stop holding his breath. One hand finds its way to your leg to hold onto, the other holding himself up beside your head, and he just…watches. 

Little by little, he thrusts. Plunging into you in short-tight snaps of his hips just to watch your tits jiggle with the movements, up until he really, really can’t hold back anymore. 

You feel his cock leave you almost entirely, only to slam right back in and cause your vision to go white with a pang of pleasure. Your loud yelp pairs well with his relieved sigh of a grunt, and it appears that this is what breaks him entirely. 

That single, full thrust, lets him fall forward and nuzzle his nose against your neck and his body just goes. Instinctually chasing the deepest parts inside of you, hitting your cervix with each thrust only to drag back and make your toes go numb at the way your g-spot feels entirely too sensitive with this alone.

And god, Jake loves the way you cling through it. The way you moan each time he bottoms out, the way your nails cut into his back and the way your legs continuously fail to stay wrapped around him. He…

Oh no.

“I can go all night–” He breathes out through his relentless thrusts, almost as if he’s pleading with you. “I swear, I’m not done–” He continues to cut off his own words with choked moans as he pulls back and leans up, frantically forgetting to apologize over the fact that he’s already about to cum again.

And you feel him try to slide out, that face he made twice before already alerting you that he really must have so much to pump out of himself at this point. You don’t mind if he’s about to hit a third orgasm, in fact, you’re glad.

Your legs hold him in place as he fights to pull out, his eyes snapping to you in realization after the second time he tries. 

“No fucking way, you– you want it?” His eyebrows fall into that of a relieved release as he, too, falls right back down against your chest and lets his hips fuck freely. 

He’s not controlling it at this point. You feel him stretch you open more through his orgasm, rolling his hips but not pulling out even in the slightest now. Moving back and forth, as if trying to stuff you impossibly full while he releases those thick ropes of cum. It…feels so good even with the way the base of his cock continues to swirl and loosen you up in a painful stretch that almost feels like he’s ripping you open. Still, the pain is gone as he shakes on top of you, in fact, you feel your clit throb at the feeling of how big he is, of how hard he manages to stay. 

He didn’t even fuck you that roughly before this, but it feels like you’re already ruined. Ruined enough to want more. Enough to need more. 

“Bet that feels good,” You chuckle against his hair, feeling each pulse of him and loving the way he pants against your ear. “Not having to pull out, knowing you can fuck me for as long as you want.”

That only pushes his orgasm to hit harder. He thought he was nearing the end of it, but instead, his body goes into overdrive as more pulses of cum shoot out of him at your words. There’s so…so much of it he can give you. And if this is what you want, he’s the perfect man to do it for you. 

“Don’t say that, oh god–” Jake mumbles through the end of his orgasm, keeping himself tucked nice and deep into you as he releases his body weight and makes you feel slightly suffocated under him. “Please.”

Well, he minds his manners well enough, you shrug under him, clenching around his length unintentionally and reminding him that you genuinely can go all night, just like him.

Reminding him that maybe you really will just lock him up in this room all tonight, all tomorrow. He seems into the idea anyway, right? Both of you just free-use sex dolls for the time being…Hell yeah.

And as Jake catches his breath, he finally lifts up, pulling you with him, and sits you directly on his lap now.

“Keep going then, don’t let it get soft.” He nearly whimpers, solely due to the sensitivity his cock is now offering and the fact that after that third orgasm, he truly is gaining the ability to go flaccid between orgasms. 

And you follow his direction, though not entirely how he wanted you to. Instead of rolling your hips, you slip him right out of you and sink your face down between his legs, loving the way his cum spills out of you all the while. You don’t even say anything, not that you’d need to. He watches you, a smirk forming on his lips as he raises an arm and throws it over his eyes. 

“Shit, You’re so my type.” He groans out of the sexual frustration that still bubbles within him. You look so good down there with his cock just inches from your mouth. God, no woman has been able to go down on him for too long despite really fucking wishing they would. 

His hips always lose control, they don’t like face fucking, he’s too big to fit, they’re gagging too much, their jaw is hurting. What the fuck ever. Look at you, blinking up at him like you want nothing more in the world than to take it all down your throat. Ah, fuck, if you did that…

His hips buck up on instinct, forcing you to hold him down with your arms as you lick your lips. 

“You really live up to your promise, you know that?” You smile with warmed cheeks as you speak, blowing air gently against the head of his cock. It’s softened up a little, but it’s no longer going flaccid. You’re sure that the second you work it into your mouth, he’s going to be blocking your airways. 

Good. 

“You say that like I’m not overwhelming you with all of this,”  He chuckles as he moves his arm from his face and down to yours. “Most girls would have already sent me home.”

You circle your lips around the bulbous head, tasting the remnants of both you and him as you gently suckle before popping off and licking your lips. 

“Well, Jake–” You look back down and lend his cock a little kiss. “I’m not most girls. Besides, most guys get their nut and leave me hanging. You’ve gotten, what? Three orgasms by now? And you’re still in my bed? Wanting me to lock you up tomorrow too? What a fucking win.”

Jake rolls his eyes because you don’t even know the fucking half of it. If he were a normal guy, he probably would have done the same thing. Maybe not to you, but to others? Yeah. The thing is, he’s not like most guys. And you’re right in saying you’re not like most girls either, considering…your sex drive appears to be just as insatiable as his.

“Fuck, let me eat you out again–” Jake groans now, needing to pleasure you again, aroused by the fact that he’s basically met a female version of himself. Even if he’s just exaggerating and making himself believe such a woman could exist close enough to him. “Let me– Ahh…”

You cut off his words, dragging a loud and sensual moan from him as you sink down. Mostly to shut him up, mostly so you can return the favor for him from earlier before letting him have another lick of you. After all, you truly do appreciate him for all of this. 

“Mmf–” You mumble unintentionally, feeling each inch of his length that you swallow up pressing your tongue further and further down in your mouth. Up until you’re entirely open mouthed on him, gagging yourself when he hits your throat only to angle yourself up on your knees to point it straight down your throat instead.

It hurts, but you close your eyes in concentration, breathing through each gag, ignoring the dribble of saliva that runs from the corners of your mouth and– you swallow.

Mostly because you can’t suck. Again and again, you swallow around him just to stimulate his length, the girth stretching your lips out to the point you feel your jaw could break, but it doesn’t and it won’t. 

Within an instant of taking his whole length down your throat, you feel his hands in your hair. Your ears are ringing, otherwise you would also be listening to him choke on his words at how you’re doing this to him. All of it. You’re taking him in full, not leaving an inch out, seemingly proving that your mouth can be fucked just as good as your cunt.

He’s in heaven, head spinning as you stimulate him through each gag and sputtered out chokes of a moan. He can’t help it when he grabs your hair, he really doesn’t mean it when he pushes your head down while pressing his hips up. Essentially choking you and suffocating you in full with a paused hold. 

You brace yourself on his hips when he does this, squeezing your eyes shut and continuously gagging from the way he abuses your mouth with just that small movement, and then– he pulls back.

“Ahh,” He groans, snapping his hips back and holding you by the hair to keep you from chasing. “You like that?” He continues, letting you breathe but not answer at all before he’s pushing your head right back down, holding you there again and fucking his hips up repeatedly into your throat this time. 

The sounds are pornographic at best, concerning at worst. You, searching for air somewhere between his thrusts, the sounds of wet sputters, drooling, whimpered groans from him, and desperate gasps and gags from you. Truly, Jake is in heaven right now. With you, specifically, you’ve brought him to heaven.

For you, it feels like he does this forever. You’re losing the ability to comprehend what breathing ever was in the first place, thankfully though, Jake can see the tears pouring from your eyes and feel the way you fall slightly limp, letting him do as he pleases before he realizes– he may actually be overwhelming you now.

He snaps his hips back quickly, pulling you up and off of the last remaining inches of his weeping cock before taking a good, long look at your gasped breath and abused lips. Tongue licking out and eyes stained. 

“I’m sorry, fuck, I–”

Instantly you press yourself down on him once again, resuming your original position of sliding him in until you can’t stand the feeling in your throat, gagging and swallowing around him time and time again. You feel proud of it, proud of the pain, proud of the suffocation. 

Fucking proud to not be finished with him compared to every other person, apparently. 

“Jesus–” He groans now, his entire body slouching against your bed as he slams his head back and starts petting your cheeks. “It’s like you were born for this. For me.”

You hum around the gags, growing accustomed to swallowing him up and feeling your jaw strain. And just a few moments later, you pull up with a deep breath, a smile, and you start rubbing your jaw. 

“Maybe I was,” You try to talk dirty, wanting to drive him insane. “You taste so good.” You add, dipping down again to lick a long stripe up the underside of his balls up to his tip. “Any girl should be proud to say you’d fuck her mouth like that.”

A twitch, he rolls his eyes back and clenches his jaw. 

“How are you so…” He breathes out, reaching his hands blindly for you, only to feel you shift on the bed and essentially sit your tits into both of his hands. “perfect?”

You shrug when he opens his eyes, you’re now hovering over him, both hands covering his on your tits as you force him to squeeze and grope. 

“Maybe it’s best to not ask questions.” You tilt your head playfully. “Besides, if I’m lucky maybe you’ll stop trying to find other girls to fuck. They can’t take care of you like I will, anyway.”

Oh, you damn fucking right they won’t. 

“You can have it any time you want.” Jake smiles, relishing in your tits warming under his palms, watching the way you hover over him tall and proud on your knees. “Could play with you every day and never get bored.” 

You feel him move his hand from under yours, going straight between your legs and sliding not two, but three fingers into you with ease.

“Still so wet too,” He hums, eyes narrowing at you with that same pretty grin. “You always this horny?”

You shake your head. 

“Not usually, you just turn me on.” 

Jake feels proud of that. He doesn’t feel like the odd ball with a dick that can’t be satiated no matter how many pussies he plows through in a night. Which, again, for the past year has been a total of zero pussy. You getting turned on by that makes him feel…capable. Makes him feel like maybe he can be put to use by a pretty girl. 

Makes him feel like his need is wanted and well taken care of. 

“So, I can keep calling you?” He asks now, fucking his fingers up, loving the warmth and slide, anticipating for when he gets to bury his cock in you again. 

“Mhm.” You hum, closing your eyes to enjoy the pleasure of how deep even his fingers reach. Kind of ready for him to stop talking and just focus on what he’s doing to you.

“Even if it’s every single day?” He continues to ask, now using his thumb against your clit. “Even if I need you in the middle of the night?”

Anything he wants if he can keep hitting your g-spot like this. 

“Yes, Jake,” You sigh out of aroused frustration, now wiggling your hips to chase that stimulation inside of you. “I’ll give you the fucking key to my apartment if you want. Just let you walk right in and start fucking me.”

His fingers move faster at the image, the implication of not just free-use, but true free use. Real free-use. 

“Yeah? Wake you up with my cock sliding into you?” He urges you to keep talking, now removing his other hand from your chest and circling it around his cock. “Just walk right in and get my mouth on you while all your friends are here?”

You lend a surprised chuckle, but pay no mind to his words past the arousal it brings to you. You’d tell him about how you have a total of like two friends, and half of the time they’re too busy to show up anyway. Still, the image is hot at the moment. All of it is hot. 

“You’d let me?” He continues pressing every button both physically and mentally, unaware of how easy it is for him to talk as if it’s a normal conversation solely because it’s kind of his general state of living at this point. You, on the other hand, are not used to having a full conversation while your g-spot gets abused. “Even if you’re not home? Let you come home and find me fucking myself for you?”

Oh.

“Fuck–” You groan out at the image, feeling his fingers reach so perfectly, thinking of how it would feel to walk into your apartment just to see this pretty man chasing that tight ring of fingers his fist creates. Probably so turned on and frustrated that you’re not home…so frustrated that all he could do is drop to the floor and start fucking. “God, yeah.”

So that’s what you’re into. You love that he’s that pathetic to fuck. And lucky for you, he’s more than willing to continue to be that fucking pathetic. 

“Does that feel good?” He hums now, watching how you fuck yourself against his fingers, lifting slightly to lick against your nipple. “Can I use my cock again?” He babbles almost, brain on constant loop of you actually giving him free reign of your apartment someday so he can come and–”Please, do this on my cock.”

This is the second time he’s asked you to ride it, and you think that may be one time too many. You almost feel guilty for taking him down your throat first, but then again, you don’t. Your body vibrates knowing you’re about to split yourself open on him again, only this time having full control. 

“You want me to sit on it, Jake?” You smile, thrusting your hips down and sinking his fingers into you so deep that you physically can see his brain malfunction. 

The frantic nod he gives is somehow less powerful than how he lifts his hips, forcing you higher on your knees as his fingers slip out of you and immediately land in his mouth. 

Man, this guy must love the taste of pussy. The image of him doing that alone is insanely arousing to you as you lend him a short nod and slide back, your pussy sucking in the head of his cock instantly as if the two of you move together so well, that it was only natural to not need a guiding hand for it. 

He sinks his head deep into the mattress with the way you try to sink down on him. He holds his breath with those same fingers in his mouth, squeezing his eyes shut at how tight you still are, how wet you still are. 

And he’s shocked, almost, at the way you just keep sliding down. Not letting yourself re-adjust to his size, holding your own breath and bracing yourself on his abdomen just to keep balance and you wince through the stretch. 

“That’s it.” Jake soothes your hips as you sit, clenching around each one of his twitches inside of you. “Doing so good.” He breathes out this time, trying to hold back his moan just for a moment as he awaits your moan first.

And it comes quickly when you lean back rather than against him, arms by his knees as you practically present his cock to him buried entirely into you with this position. He lifts his head and stares at it before reaching his thumb to your clit, immediately pressing hard circles against it. 

“Ride it,” He pleads now. “God, please ride it.” He loses his mind at the image, really, as you do start moving. 

Pained whimpers falling from your lips as you circle your hips, fucking just an inch of him in and out of yourself, forcing the deepest part of your pussy to take the abuse more than anything else. And you know he loves it with the way his thumb stops rubbing your clit, with the way he can’t decide on if he should look or throw his head back and fall into the sensation. 

It’s really cute to witness, and you’d lean forward to kiss him if you had the strength to do it, but you don’t. In fact, all the strength you have is currently bubbling up inside of you with a sharp, almost burning sensation. 

You know exactly what this is. You’ve practiced it time and time again alone in this bed. 

“Oh, oh shit, Jake–” You groan as you frantically start moving your hips through the full and splitting feeling of him inside of you. Your voice sounds so panicked, it almost scares him. And honestly? Had he not have finger fucked you against your g-spot previously perhaps you could last longer on him, but no. 

“What– What’s wrong?!” Jake’s voice is broken when he quickly leans up, hugging around you as you continue to ride against him, faster now, chasing, chasing, chasing. 

Pushing, pushing, pushing.

“No, no!” You moan out, shoving him back against the bed and now lifting entirely from his length before slapping your own clit, fast, rough circled motions before each slap. “Oh, shit!” You nearly yell, witnessing it squirt from your body straight against his abdomen and chest. 

Jake just watches, mouth agape and eyes wide. 

“Oh–” He stares. “Oh yeah?” 

And you’re not even done when he seemingly takes full control. Allowing all that squirt to fall out of you, ignoring your shaking legs, tipping you straight back and plunging his cock right back into that release of pressure inside of you.

“You just weren’t gonna tell me you could do that?” He grunts against your ear, fucking into you so hard and so fast that your orgasm just keeps coming. It feels too good to speak, too good to breathe. 

Even as it subsides and you’re trying to catch your breath, he doesn’t let you. He just keeps going, grunting incoherently against your ear, snapping his hips harder than you think he’s probably ever done before. 

Honestly, with each yelp you let out, your sensitivity goes from being unbearably painful to–

“Do it again–” He urges you. “Give me another one.” Babbling, cooing, fucking moaning all over your neck until his lips hit yours. 

Somehow, that gives him exactly what he wants as he feels your legs tense up and fall open around him. Your pelvis slamming into his so hard that it’s, quite literally, splashing out of you in loud and painful sounds. 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” He nods and whispers against your tongue, sucking it into his mouth before licking into yours, nearly rabid with the way he’s both kissing and fucking you, he can’t help it. He forgot words the second he felt the gush rush past his length, trying to force it out of you only for him to go harder. Like hell he’s not going to feel you literally squirt on his cock. “So fucking messy.”

At one point, you think you might have actually died. You’re not sure but you swear you saw him fucking you in third person for two solid seconds before being slammed right back into your body. The pleasure genuinely is so overwhelming that…well, suddenly you understand why girls probably think he’s too much.

But goddamn he’s…so good. Like, you remember him mentioning his body count through his one-sided sext session with you and you can argue his inexperience probably made this that much better. He’s a fucking natural. 

And as he continues fucking into you, all you can do is lend him a distant smile. You’re definitely not experiencing real life at this moment, and you know he sees it with the way he lifts and keeps his eyes on your zoned out expression. 

“Look at you.” He echoes against your walls. “So, so pretty.” 

And he just keeps doing that, whispering praises, working you through his presumed last orgasm of the night because he genuinely can’t not fill you up with his cum one last time before letting you rest. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

The rest didn’t last long, but to be fair you didn’t need it to. All night, and all day. That promise was kept and Jake remained insatiable throughout all the time he spent with you.

To the point you very nearly felt strange about him leaving. Like you’d grown so accustomed to having someone literally attached to you at the dick that you knew the loneliness and silence would hit you a little too hard once he leaves. 

And, well, he does leave in a sense, but not completely. 

Though you never truly meant that offer in the midst of sex-talk, Jake seemed to have clinged to the idea of it. Lock him up, but still give him the key. 

Never in your life would have imagined giving a person the key to your apartment, and yet…there he goes. Backing out of a guest parking spot in front of your building with your spare fucking apartment key in his pocket right next to those fucking panties. 

[ncteez]

NYMPHO [m.l]

If there’s anything in life that Mark wants, it’s to fuck. All day, every day, it’s on his mind. He fantasizes constantly, watches porn every free chance he gets, and ultimately has grown bored of his own hand to satiate his need. or the one where mark is very inexperienced, incredibly perverted, and borderline addicted to sex but cannot, for the life of him, land a girl.

ao3 | m.list | leave feedback and reblog to give mark another boner. 

minors do not interact. 

WORDCOUNT― 13.8K

PAIRING― mark lee x afab reader

CONTENT― smut, inexperienced but pervy and dominant mark, he kind of has an addiction to jerking off, im not joking like he has a boner every twenty minutes it’s probably a medical issue but, reader is really sex positive and lets mark go absolutely insane on her

NOTE― not proof read// will come back and maybe try to do that…anyway. im back in the game bitches, someone tell mark [DO NOT]!!  disclaimer: this is straight up just porn. it had a plot at one point but i deleted all of it and wrote this instead. additionally: this is also posted on my other blog for jake so.........hahaha

smut tags under cut:: 

smut tags― mark isn’t submissive– just a loser, loads of masturbation, also loads of loads lmfao, mark’s dick is 8 inches in this one, public humiliation, dirty talk, teasing, pussy eating / face sitting, mentions of free use, unprotected sex, wayyyy way too much cum, raw grinding, attempts at deep throat, accidental face fucking, finger fucking, suffocation, riding, squirting, implications to the fact that orgasms are not the end of the fic bc they just keep going, some say they’re still fucking to this day. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“Feels so good! Harder! Fuck m-” 

Mark slams his laptop shut in an exasperated sigh. Frustrated, annoyed, fucking horny. 

Always horny. To the point that nothing excites him anymore. Not his hard-on being palmed at by his own hand, not the make-shift pocket pussy he’s made out of household objects, not the porn on page one or on page seventy-three. 

Honestly, even as hard as he is now, it’s arguable that he could just start punching his cock and he’d still remain in this state until something changes. And you know what sucks more than not being able to get off? Being hard so constantly that it’s just a state of living at this point. 

It’s sad. He could be washing caked ketchup off of a plate and his cock would still lend a little jump. A reminder that his hand is no longer enough. A fucking threat that if he doesn’t sink into a pretty hole soon, he might as well just kill himself. 

The idea doesn’t seem too bad anymore, as he lays flat on his back with his cock in hand on his messy sheets. He stares up at the ceiling with another long-winded groan, wondering why he has to have such an insatiable libido and probably twice as much stamina. If he could just get off he’d have at least a little bit of time in his day to feel normal before it takes hold of his brain again. 

It’s the fact that he’s grown entirely numb to his own hand and feels like he’s going crazy because he hasn’t been able to hook-up with anyone in nearly a year. Porn is boring, he swears he’s seen just about all of the good, bad, and bizarre. Post nut clarity barely exists because there is no clarity by the time he finally gets that hard-to-reach nut. Bad luck, maybe. Awful fucking miserable luck? That’s more fitting. 

For the sake of the girls in this city, perhaps it’s good that he can’t manage to land a hook-up. Surely they’d be unable to walk by the time he gets his fill, that is if he manages to get a fill at all. And it’s gotten to the point that Mark has almost entirely given up on finding a girl at all. One that’s willing to put up with his near-constant need to get his dick wet, anyway. 

Almost given up.

A thought crosses his mind as he lazily palms himself with a bored sigh, knowing he’ll end up locked up in an asylum somewhere if this doesn’t stop. The voice of Johnny in his head doing little to make his cock soften, which is…not something Mark is proud to admit.

“Dude, you gotta put a stop to this shit. This is your third laptop this year!” Johnny had said to him. “It’s only June!”

Maybe Johnny was right, and maybe Mark should have downloaded the new app that was mentioned shortly after the scolding rather than immediately going to another, even more, shady porn site. “Heard this one was really good.” Johnny had advertised. “Even got Jisung laid.” 

Well, maybe it wouldn't hurt to try another app despite the immense amount of failure Mark has already faced regarding previous attempts with other platforms. After all, if it got Jisung laid, surely it could get him laid too. 

Maybe this one really is better.

And at the end of the day, Mark does download the app. After all, creating a profile is easy, finding a girl though? 

We’ll see.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Ah. Okay. Nice.

Mark stays glued to his phone all night. He really had no hope that this app would offer him anything more than what the others did. But, oh. 

The app allows specific features, most of which are not aimed towards users looking for a relationship. Dick and body sizes are out in the open, there’s sections you can fill out regarding what you’re looking for in a sexual partner, how often you’re willing to see said partner, and if you’re looking for a regular fuck or a one time fuck. 

Safe to say, Mark’s profile went a little something like this: 

you can call me mark, im 24. just looking for a girl either for regular visits or a one night stand that’s willing to deal with a guy who literally suffers from chronic-boner syndrome.

LOOKING FOR: Female PREFERENCE: One Time Only, Occasional Meetups, On-call, Regular meetups, Permanent Friends-With-Benefits, Secret Meet, Virtual Meet, Audio Meet, Rebound C…[Click to see more] PARTNER REQUIREMENTS: N/A SIZE REFERENCE: 8 ½” hard, 4” soft, 5.6” circumference SEXUAL INTERESTS: Vanilla, Free Use, BDSM, Begging, Breeding, Dom/Sub, Dominatrix, CBT, Role Play, Public Humiliation, Edging, Spanking, Dirty Talk, Phone Sex, Virtual Sex, Group Sex, Humiliation, Cock Play, Cum Dump, Religion, Raw, Multiple Orgasms, Androgyny, Genital Piercings, Older Women, Body Art, Wax, Anal, Financial Domina...[Click to see more]

NOT INTERESTED IN: Cuckolding, Voyeurism OTHER: im not very experienced in most of these, i just watch a lot of porn

Embarrassing? Yeah, probably. 

Looks like a lot of women are into that though if his inbox is anything to go by, anyway. With him checking the app every few minutes to find ten new messages? Yeah, they’re feeling him. 

He can only imagine what the fuck Jisung had on his profile to actually land a hook-up. Couldn’t have been any worse than his own, after all, Mark is desperate and so was Jisung at one point. 

Apparently girls like desperate guys. 

Message after message, degrading comments and praise, all from either women clad in leather or sweet looking church girls who must have the app hidden deep within their phones. There’s barely anyone in between those two categories, actually. 

“Hi baby boy, you looking for a sugar mama?” 

“ur dick really that big? lol, what do you even mean by ‘chronic boner syndrome’?” 

“you’re so desperate to get laid, might as well just doxx yourself at this point…please.”

Arguably, these women are very forward and he has a great time sifting through the ones he’s interested in. Scrolling through all of these messages….does not help his case regarding his insatiable need to fuck something either so, naturally, he’s also 100% jerking off the entire time he’s doing this.

Still, never quite able to reach the orgasm he needs by this point.

Up until there’s a message that catches his attention. No degrading, no insults, no borderline-too-kinky insinuations. Which, given, Mark probably shouldn’t have selected the majority of the kinks just to pull more girls, but he did. 

And upon reading the message, he almost doesn’t know if this girl is real. 

“High libido, no girls around to help you out, I take it? Rough.”

One look at her profile spikes even more interest. Her sexual interests include a list of things he wishes he didn’t fit. But he does, though he’d never admit it. Inexperienced men, losers, virgins, micro-penis, big penis, praise (receiving), body worship–

Oh.

Fuck yeah.

He responds quickly, already feeling the orgasm within him bubble up as he tries to pretend he doesn’t go on a war path of responding to everyone after you, but still. Your message box with him remains in his mind as he awaits the response to his message of “you looking to help me out?” 

Every ping on his phone afterwards makes his cock twitch more, makes it dribble out little beads of pre-cum with each pass of his palm, only for him to sigh out of frustration that it’s just another person that wants to devour him whole. Which, he’ll take what he can get if his first choice never responds but still. He wants to get off to you.

He finds himself on your profile more often than anyone else’s too, looking at the same three photos you’ve posted, noting how you don’t seem super active on the app, but active enough to find him by some beautiful grace of God. 

You’re kind of perfect, honestly. Fairly mundane compared to most of the women in his inbox, but cool nonetheless. He can tell you have an eye for fashion but it seems to be more geared towards your real life self rather than the secret fetish/kink app you’ve got downloaded.

And that’s the thing. Most of these women, beautiful or not, are dressed in their best sexual attire just to message a possible fuck, while during their daily lives they probably wear conservative dresses and pant suits. Which….arguably that’s kind of hot. Then again, what isn’t hot to him these days?

You though. You have normal pictures posted just like he does. Your tits aren’t out, your legs aren’t open, you don’t have a pile of sex toys behind or beside you and yet still your pictures turn him on more than those who do. Insane how his cock twitches at just these three photos, fucking insane how he grows a near instant obsessed thinking about how you…uh, deal with the losers you seem to be looking for.  

Then again, maybe it’s the mystery of what’s under your clothes, or what’s in your stash of sex toys. Oh, whatever you’re hiding has got be so fucking hot. Naturally, he groans at the amount of sexuality you barely give. Thinking far, far too hard about it all, given the circumstances. 

Don’t get him wrong, he can get down with the hoes. In fact, he very much wants to get down with a hoe. But man, the way you stand out because you’re somehow….boring compared to everyone else?

Please.

Fucking pretty please, let him in between those thighs. 

And just as he scrolls again through your photos, that long-awaited orgasm hits him like a brick.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

A mere two days later you find yourself in the inbox with the self-proclaimed boner-god. He’s since proven his size with photos involving different objects beside said penis, and even a video or two of his frantic hands jerking off to you. 

Ah, he’s kind of perfect if you think about it. At first you thought that it was just roleplay for him or something. Where he plays a guy who can’t get enough, though he clearly probably does. It wasn’t until you were woken up at four in the morning with him spamming your inbox that you suddenly realized this dude is actually as desperate as he seems. 

Normally, being spammed awake by your phone pinging consistently would bother you. But goddamn was he needing it. Just three hours before now it was mostly casual conversation with him, albeit about hooking-up, but still. The two of you agreed to determine on the following day if you were compatible enough for a meet up. He said goodnight to you, and you said it back. 

Then you woke up to three dick pics, one voice note with a borderline pathetic apology (only because you could still hear him going at it), and then like fourteen messages of him trying to wake you up intentionally. 

MARK_99 sent you a message: You awake?

Dick pic #1. 

MARK_99 sent you a message: You’re so pretty, sorry lol

Dick pic #2 

MARK_99 sent you a message:  Wake uppppppppppp! 

MARK_99 sent you a message:  Please? :(

Dick pic #3, precum smeared across his fingers as he grips it. 

MARK_99 sent you a message:  Do you already have me silenced?

MARK_99 sent you a message: I’d let you silence me hahaha….

MARK_99 sent you a voice memo: “Sorry about all this, I really meant it when I said I have a problem. You should probably just block me because I’m going to end up begging to see you otherwise”

Oh, he sounds like a fucking loser, love that.. 

MARK_99 sent you a message: your profile says you like inexperience…..well i’ve only slept with like 3 girls, is that inexperienced enough?

MARK_99 sent you a message: do you like to tease guys like that? like edge them and stuff? 

MARK_99 sent you a message: oh damn, that’d be so hot 

MARK_99 sent you a message: do you like it when guys beg btw? 

Etcetera. 

And, well, apparently he just has a lot to say. It’s cute how embarrassed he must feel basically getting himself off with a one-sided sext session with you as you were sleeping. At least, you hope he’s embarrassed. 

You let his messages simmer for a while, waiting to see if he sends anything else. And when he doesn’t, you respond. 

YOURUSERNAME: that was cute. 

It’s the way he’s instantly trying to respond that really gets you going. You chuckle first, knowing already that you’d probably help him out based on this situation alone. 

YOURUSERNAME: trying to wake me up because you can’t stop touching yourself? :( poor baby. 

MARK_99: oh god please don’t say that

MARK_99: im gonna end up awake all night trying to get it to go down again

YOURUSERNAME: that’s good to hear. so you can go for a long time then? 

Yes, you’re teasing him. 

MARK_99: if you’d let me

YOURUSERNAME: you already got off tonight tho, didn’t you?

MARK_99: i don’t think you understand just how bad it is. i’m already getting my dick out again

You lend yourself a sly chuckle after a deep yawn, knowing for a fact that you’re about to make him prove to you that he’s either still hard or really did get off only to get hard again by a mere few messages from you. 

YOURUSERNAME: show me?

And he does. Similar to the other three photos, only this time he sends a short video with his shorts pushed down his thighs and his cock raging hard and pathetic against his stomach. Again, he’s big, that much is true, but the fact that such a dick is always ready to fuck? To the point he’s desperate? To the point he’s embarrassing about it?

YOURUSERNAME: how bad do you wanna bury that in me?

Oh, shit. Mark could fucking die right now. You seem so willing, which is truly what he needs at this point in his sexual sickness.  

MARK_99: i’ll come over right now. 

MARK_99: let me come over and show you

YOURUSERNAME: let’s wait a bit for that, gotta meet officially before I let you fuck me

And you do intend to make him wait, knowing for a fact that you’re not meeting this guy tonight. There’s too much danger in that. Given how desperate he actually is, you can argue that if you changed your mind upon meeting, he very well may not care. Which, that’s something you need to worry about with any person you meet on such an app, but still.

Public meeting first. 

Always.

MARK_99: right, right, that makes sense. 

MARK_99: so can i see your pussy then

You stifle a laugh as if the man can hear you, he’d probably like that though. But yeah, no. As much as you know he’d enjoy that, it’s best to let him experience it for the first time in real life if all of this goes well. So, you settle with tits. 

Meaning, he has to settle with them too. 

And the photo is all but enough for Mark. The ping of his phone was far too exciting with the flash of the image sinking into his eyes. Sure, he wanted to see your hole open for him, he wanted to see your pretty hands spreading your lips for the picture, he wanted to see what he might get to fuck into someday– but…

This is good enough for him, honestly. Seeing your tits alone is hot enough, but it’s the fact that you only barely let him see. The plush skin of your lower breasts are peeking from under the shirt you're wearing, one nipple barely out, the other completely hidden. 

He moans out at it, holding his cock tight and painfully as he glares into the screen of his phone. God, he can almost taste it. 

MARK_99: thats so hot…but….

MARK_99: pussy….

MARK_99: please show me your pussy

Another chuckle at how desperate he really is. You lower your phone just a bit, not at all intending to show him all of it but you do lend a panty shot with your legs spread. He’ll live with it, he doesn’t have a choice. 

And he does live with it because he cums almost instantly upon seeing just your thighs open. He wouldn’t have been able to hit climax so quickly had you already had this photo posted for all to see. It’s the fact that you sent it to him in the dms. It’s the fact that you presumably just took it for him. It’s the fact that he can almost see the outline of your folds, and the lines of your pussy that deserves to fucked open. 

When he doesn’t respond immediately, you know it was enough for him. Already you’re preparing to roll back over and get some more sleep, but your phone dings again. 

MARK_99: tht was hot lol….um

MARK_99: can u come to the mall tomorrow? i work at [redacted store name], u can come see that im actually very normal if u want

You stop for a second through another yawn, thinking long and hard about it. You shrug to yourself because tomorrow is a saturday and there’s plenty of public spaces to meet him in. And despite how fun it could be to tease him for weeks on end before officially meeting him, you, yourself, have been in a dry-spell lately. 

And he fits your interests perfectly. In other words, yeah, you could fuck.

YOURUSERNAME: you sure you’re not gonna take me in the back and fuck me on the spot? 

MARK_99: ….would u want me to? 

YOURUSERNAME: no, i wanna bring you home if i think you could make me feel good

MARK_99: hahah damn

MARK_99: so you’ll come see me?

YOURUSERNAME: yeah, i’ll come see you

MARK_99: ok cool :)

And then it’s silent for a long while. In fact, you’re nearly asleep again when your phone pings one last time. All you need to see is the notification to know that meeting Mark is gonna be fun. 

MARK_99 sent you a message: for the record…i definitely will fuck you good

Sounds promising. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

You knew he was cute but holy shit, he’s like, cute cute.

Fucking handsome and charmingly cute. 

Perhaps even, hot. 

You stand from around a shelf to check him out. That same voice you’ve heard previously rings loud and clear in your head, and his hair is definitely a stylistic mess, the type of hair you can imagine grabbing and tugging to guide a tongue between your legs. His eyes are pretty and piercing yet equally as filled with some sort of wonder. His hands, his body.

 Oh wow. 

On any other day, you’d think he’s just some poser emo-guy working a shitty retail job so he can buy his first guitar and play it totally out of tune. But on this day, you’re aware that this is a man with a need that you very much wouldn’t mind satisfying. 

 Seeing him go about his work tasks behind the counter is another thing. Checking customers out both through the register and with his eyes when they walk away. You know he isn’t aware that you’ve actually shown up, and it feels nice to watch him in his element before he attempts to play himself up as a totally normal, cool dude. Especially now that you can see him secretly be a pervert on the clock. 

Customer after customer, he smiles at them when he hands them their items, he offers small talk and little chuckles that ring in your ears, and every single time one of the pretty ones walks away, his head turns to watch them leave for a few seconds too long.

Anyone can tell he needs it if they watch him for long enough. 

You’re not sure why this guy is getting to you the way he is, but there’s just something about the way that he carries himself in public that turns you on. You already know for a fact that he’s a horny motherfucker. You know that behind those charming smiles and laughs, he’s got a neglected cock needing to be used. 

No one else in this store is aware of it. You’re the only person here who knows he was spamming a stranger last night with dick pics and begging to see her pussy. 

It’s hot. 

And when you approach, Mark nearly doesn’t even know it’s you at first. 

“Hi, did you find everything you–” Mark stops mid sentence. “Oh, fuck. You’re here.”  He adds, trying to primp his hair into a spot that may look a little better than it did already.

You watch as he studies you for the first time, nervously darting his tongue out and against his bottom lip just for a split second before shifting his eyes behind you, and then turning to look around to see if anyone is within ear shot. 

No one is paying attention to either of you, and no one is going to hear what you’re about to say to him. Good.

“Do you wanna see my pussy?” 

It’s a joke, mostly. Kinda. 

You chuckle at his stunned reaction. His hands move to the counter as he clutches it and continuously looks around to make sure no one just heard those lewd ass words from a girl so goddamn hot. Like, oh god, it’s you. You really showed up to see him and already he’s not acting normal. 

No, no. You’re the one acting out of pocket, not him.

“I’m–” He tries to start, but his voice cracks in a very, very, embarrassing way. You hear him clear his throat before continuing. “I’m supposed to be showing you that I’m normal.” 

You tilt your head at him playfully, leaning against the counter and pushing your tits together with your arms. You wore this shirt here for a reason, and boy are you glad you did. You watch his eyes go straight to your chest and stay there. 

“Public Humiliation.” You echo one of his sexual interests to him from his app profile. “Dirty talk.”

Mark swallows around his words in stunned silence, feeling his cock wake up immediately. Fuck, this is the only place he finds peace of mind from…that. Yet here you are, with that soft and pretty voice reminding him of everything he wants but hasn’t been able to have. Standing there like you know he can’t bend you over right now and make you stop talking.

“Eight and a half inches hard.” You continue, leaning in even closer and moving your hand to the collar of your shirt. Tugging down just a little bit. “Five point six inch circumference.” 

Mark squeezes his eyes shut as he leans back with a sigh, pressing his hips against the counter for some sort of relief. To think the “boring” girl on the app wouldn’t be like this? God, he knew there had to be a catch considering you were on that app to find him in the first place. 

“Please–” He groans as his ears redden, lazily opening his eyes to look at your tits again. “Please don’t do this to me.” 

“I can imagine you’d fit it in me just right, wouldn’t you Mark?” You continue briefly, noting the bulge he blatantly presses against the counter. “Can you say ‘please’ again? It’s kinda hot.” 

“Please–” Mark blatantly groans now, his voice sounding hoarse and low. As much as he wants you to keep going, he’s at fucking work. He can’t be doing this. 

“Okay!” You gleefully agree as you switch up like you didn’t just fuck him up, lending him a bright and innocent smile as you lean back and away from him. “So you don’t want to see my pussy then?”

His relieved face falls right back into that of pained frustration as he narrows his eyes at you. 

“Right now?” He asks curiously, nodding his head without realizing it. Sure, he’s at work but like….your pussy is also at his work place right now.

“Yeah! Can you show me to the fitting room, actually?” You ask, louder this time in case anyone has moved around within ear-shot by now. Can’t make him lose his job, or whatever.

Mark swallows thickly with a nod, his eyes still narrowed at you but his mind racing a mile a minute at the fact that you’re really here right now, and this is what you’re doing to him? Enjoying his pain? Enjoying his suffering? Making it worse? 

Five minutes ago he was perfectly fine. You’re using his need against him and god, he loves it. Yeah, maybe he will take you to the back and try to fuck you at this point. Even if you said that you wouldn’t let him…what the fuck is this then? 

Really, he expected you to show up with an awkward hello and irritating small talk. He wanted to show you that he’s not always thinking about sex. Except he is, and it seems you want him to. You want him to think about fucking you. 

You really just walked into this establishment and asked him if he wants to see your pussy.

Of course he wants to see it. You already fucking know that. He wants to fuck it too, like, right now. 

And as he walks you to the fitting room, he has to try his damndest to adjust his growing cock. He nods to each customer as he walks by them, hands repeatedly going back to his lap to hide what he’s packing.

“Here it is.” Mark says in an unfocused voice, nearly staring a hole through you. “Now show me.” 

You dip your head in a smile, heading for the room and opening the curtain. Cheap ass store, really, most places have actual doors, but whatever. 

It’s easy to step inside and leave the curtain skewed a bit, knowing that Mark is hovering around the room, knowing that it’s probably protocol that an employee assist this space when it’s in use to prevent stealing and to prevent others from walking in on naked customers. 

You like the way you see him take peeks, trying to be discreet. You like the way he keeps his hands in front of his lap, hiding that you’ve definitely made him a mess of him already. You love the way he whispers a curse to himself when you sit against the bench in this small room and spread your legs wide open. 

You bet he loves the skirt you’re wearing for him today too. Though this wasn’t exactly planned or anything, you didn’t expect to be this turned on upon seeing him act as desperate as he sounds. You wore this shirt so he can look, and the skirt too…but looking this much wasn’t in your mind originally. 

He’s hot though. The way he needs it is hot. 

“Hurry up.” He groans, trying to make it seem like he’s frustrated but you know it’s just because he’s anxiously horny. 

And, well, you’re not actually gonna show him your pussy, but at this point you feel bad because he seems really stiff right now, almost robotic in the way he likely feels uncomfortably aroused in his least favorite place.  

“Mark,” You whisper-chuckle. “If you wanna see it, you’re gonna have to come in here and take my panties off of me.”

You hear him sigh, and see his eyes flick back to you through the small open space in the curtain. 

“You’re insane. I can’t come in there, I’ll lose my job.” He argues with a hushed tone, eyes fixated on the very panties he wishes he could remove. 

Even against his protests though, he reaches an arm in as he looks away. As if on extreme watch of other customers and employees roaming around. Probably pretending to grab a garment that doesn’t work for you, probably just doing normal, good-employee things. 

And, well, it’s pathetic really, the way he hopes for more. The way you offer more knowing he can’t get exactly what he wants. You actually feel a bit bad for doing this, especially because it wasn’t entirely in the plan. 

You really were just coming to meet him. It’s not your fault that watching him work turned you on solely because you know what he needs. So, you stand and walk towards the curtain, grabbing his arm and holding it in place. 

“Well–” You start, pressing yourself against the backside of his fingers, feeling him move his hand slightly against your clit. “Touch it then.”

He goes entirely silent but you feel the way he fumbles his hand, immediately grabbing your panties and moving them to the side just to really feel. And you let him, finding it somehow cuter in the way he doesn’t even ask. He does it like he needs to, like it’s instinctual to touch it. He feels for a second or two, probably closer to about five seconds before you step back. Really, it’s enough for him to know you’re wet, enough for him to suffer, enough for him to want more. 

Mark’s brain is on fire at it. Touching it before getting to see it? Goddamn, you’re so fucking mean.

And it’s silent for a few more moments after that as Mark keeps his hand in place, seemingly searching for a pussy just out of reach when you slide the fabric down your legs and place them directly into his hand. 

“When do you get off work?” You ask slyly now, ripping the curtain open and moving his hand for him, forcing him to shove your panties in his pocket. 

“Uh–” He stutters, swallowing again around his words before clearing his throat of the moan he really needs to let out right now. “Seven– I get off at seven.”

You nod with a smile, leaning in real close before patting his pocket. 

“I’ll text you my address.” 

And you leave without sparing him another glance, knowing that by the time his shift is over, he’ll probably pounce the second you open your door for him. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Mark suffers through the rest of his shift aggressively trying not to suck on his fingers. Fuck, he wants to taste you so bad, but to go as low as sucking the remnants for several hours just to hold him over? Truly, he’s at his wits end. 

Mostly because he absolutely does suck his fingers any chance he gets. Tapping his lips with them as he sees a customer off, licking against them discreetly, trying to make it look normal for him to have his fingers in his mouth so consistently. 

It’s not doing anything to hold him over though. 

He keeps glancing at the clock, and then at the message that reads your address. Just one more hour and he can leave. Just one more hour and he can bury his cock so deep into you that you’d never think twice about letting him do it again, and again, and again.

Oh god, really, he feels like he’s going insane as he checks out customer after customer. Every word they say somehow reminds him that he’s about to finally get laid again. 

“Can you wrap this up for me?” One customer said to him, nodding to a set of candles. 

Mark wishes you’d wrap him up in that pussy. 

“Do you have this in a bigger size?” Another customer had said to him as they held up a plush sweater. 

Mark doesn’t think you’d ever need a dick bigger than his. He’ll fill you up just right. 

“69.99?!” One customer argues. “The sign said it was 30% off!” 

Mark would sixty nine you all night long if you asked. He bets you taste sweet, you probably get really wet too. 

And by the end of the night, rain pounding on the roof, his last customer unfortunately has to hear a low groan leave his throat at their comments. He’s very quick to cover it with a cough. 

“Sorry for coming in right before you close, the rain is bad tonight and I forgot my umbrella, thank god you guys sell them! I didn’t mean to drip all over the floor like this, I hope you don’t have to stay late cleaning up my mess!” 

“I didn’t mean to drip all over your floor like this” Replays in his head, over and over again. God, he’d make you drip. He hopes you drip all over the floor for him. He’d get on his knees and lick it right up, god.

He needs to leave. Right now.

“S’all good,” Mark shakes his head after the initial moan and cough cover, trying to remain casual. “It’s my job to clean it up, after all.” He smiles, his brain stuck on the feeling of how wet you were when he touched you. Shiiiit. “Have a good night, stay dry!” 

And finally, Mark can close out his register and lock the doors. That, he does. Performing his end-of-night tasks at lightning speed with a cock throbbing so bad that he worries he might have to get off in his car before making it to your apartment. He genuinely needs to get off, especially knowing these pretty panties are in his pocket ready to be soaked in his cum. 

He doesn’t though, no. He holds off, thrusting his hips up and against the inseam of his pants with every passing second as he drives. He’s practically writhing by the time he gets to your place. Honestly, he moans with each movement because he’s sensitive. It’s so, so fucking sensitive. Everything feels good, he could genuinely cum the second you open your door if he’s not careful. 

Careful isn’t something Mark can be at this moment though, not when he lands a single knock at your door and you’re immediately opening it, looking at him with that same fucking evil smile you gave to him while he was at work. 

He looks at you and instantly lets out a frustrated moan before stepping in without another word. You feel his hands grab you much harsher than you originally thought he would, but you let him as you laugh out in a nervous chuckle. 

“Hello to you too.” You pat him on the back as his arms wrap around your middle. You hear him kick back against your door, slamming it shut before his lips hit your neck. 

He isn’t talking but goddamn you can hear what he needs to say through the way he presses his lips against you. He’s rough with it, kissing all across your exposed skin before slipping his hand right between your legs from the back as if he doesn’t have to chase anymore. 

You were going to jerk your hips back to make him chase, but his grip is too tight and he’s nearly lifting you off the floor entirely to get a feel. You were going to force him to look at you and the outfit you changed into for him, but again, he’s not having it, it seems.  He moans when he moves his lips up and against yours, hot breath desperate and needy as he finally speaks.

“Did it turn you on to torture me like that?” He nearly growls against your lips. “Got me so fucking hard.” 

You’re genuinely surprised with how he’s acting and talking. Then again, he’s desperate, that much is obvious if that monster bulge rubbing against your leg is anything to go by. Perhaps he may be desperate, but you guess that doesn’t always mean someone will end up submissive as a side effect. 

“It did.” You smile against his lips, pushing yourself forward to try and plant your feet back on the ground, chasing the ability to gain control over him. “Did you like that?”

Mark nods before shaking his head, allowing you to push forward, loving the way your hands reach for him and run through his hair before tugging. He did like what you did, but it doesn’t change the fact that it was fucking torture to stand there at work like he wasn’t losing his mind. 

“I’d like it more if we skip all the bullshit,” He starts, hand still attempting to reach the spot between your legs and lips landing at the corner of your mouth. “Could go all night.”

You nod to him, gripping his shirt and pulling him back to your living room couch and spinning him around, only to shove him back. 

“Is that a promise?” You ask, looking at the lazy way he spreads his own legs and rests his head against your couch cushions, eyes staring straight at you and cock twitching in his pants. “You gonna fuck me all night?”

“Yeah–” He breathes as if he’s in disbelief, hand reaching between his legs just to grab himself and squeeze as his eyes trail your body. “You have no idea how bad I need this.”

“Show me then,” You nod your head to his length that’s hidden under his pants. “Let me watch you first.”

Mark groans, rolling his eyes back both out of frustration and arousal, but he does as you say. His palm feels better with you watching, at least. He doesn’t feel so numb to the pleasure with you promising your body to him, at least. He doesn’t mind proving his size to you by shoving his pants down to his thighs and presenting said neglected cock to you either. 

It’s heavy, dark in color due to the blood that’s likely rushing throughout every inch of it. He feels sensitive to even the air in your living room as he twitches and aches to hear you talk again, to see you in front of him watching how he pleasures himself, wishing his hand is yours. 

“You wanna watch?” He says in a low-rumbled voice, tracing his fingers along the head of his cock and seething out a breath through his now, bitten bottom lip. “Wanna know how tight I want you to feel?” He asks now, bold and in the heat of the moment. You watch him when he squeezes the base of his cock tightly, you can almost feel yourself choke at that alone. 

“How wet you need to be to take it?” He continues, dragging his hand back and licking his palm before spitting into it. 

The wetness against his hand is horrifyingly pornographic. So wet when he reaches back down to his length, allowing you to hear it squelch and slip with ease. His breath is hitched while he does it too, which nearly has you seeing him in tunnel vision.

“Yeah…” You tune into him entirely, swallowing around the lump in your throat and feeling yourself drip already. “I can’t imagine how good–” You cut yourself short to moan at the way his other hand holds his pants down while he jerks his hand up faster and faster. “Oh god, you’re–”

“Wanna see how fast I can cum just looking at you?” He continues, hand only moving faster and faster as his grip tightens more, shamelessly grunting proudly over how he could probably cum now if he wanted to. “I told you, I can go all night.”

You pause, because goddamn. You thought he would be embarrassing, pathetic, needy. You thought he would beg, plead, and cry. But…you feel like you’re the one who needs to do that. God, you’ve never seen a man so desperate to fuck yet be so powerful about it. As if he’s in your face whispering, “You’re gonna let me fuck you, right? You’re gonna love it too, right? You’re gonna let me use you to take care of this little problem of mine, right? It’s what you want, right?”

If he were to say those things to you right now, you’d nod without a doubt. But…he doesn’t. He simply looks at you now, heaving out broken moans that sound too sexy to be considered pathetic. His hips chase each movement of his hand and goddamn does he fuck his fist hard.

Your mind is spinning watching him, knowing that he’s probably going to fuck you twice as hard as he fucks himself. And it’s not surprising to you at least that you can feel your own clit swell and throb for touch too. You easily move your hand between your legs, standing right there in front of him, toying with yourself as if you don’t have the power to ask him to do it for you. 

“Ah, fuck–” Mark groans, thrusting his hips up into his hand one last time before strings of his cum make a mess on his shirt. And it seems to go on forever too, spurt after spurt of it pumping out of him alongside his pretty moans and open-mouthed expression. You can feel your body react to him more than it ever has for anyone else, especially in the way….

“God–” You moan yourself now, watching him spread his legs and slouch more against your couch with a relieved sigh from his messy orgasm. But…his cock doesn’t soften. No, it stays stiff and heavy against his stomach, twitching and dribbling more and more of his cum out in little beads. 

The proof of his issue is right here, he really can and probably will go all night. And you say nothing else to him after that. In fact, he wouldn’t be able to answer you if you did say something simply because you find yourself stepping up onto your own couch, resting your knees against the back of it, and gripping his hair. 

Mark lets out a half-moan-half-hum, as expected, when he feels your hand drag his face under your skirt. You didn’t have to do that, but goddamn does he fucking love it. He loves how he can feel your knees buckle and force you to balance on the couch, loves how your cunt is just as needy as he feels, fucking adores the way you drip all over his tongue when he pushes your panties to the side and starts licking you up. 

It’s the fact that he didn’t even have to ask you to put it in his face. The slight taste against his fingers all night at work is nothing compared to the way you drown him now. He needs to do this for you. Hell, he needs to do this for himself.

“Jesus,” You breathe, rolling your hips on his mouth. He’s truly eating you like his life depends on it. You can hear his muffled hums at the taste, you can feel his shoulder shake as he starts jerking off again, you can feel the way his tongue goes deeper and deeper, licking each clench of your walls, only to pull back and suck the wet from your panties in a deep breath. 

He coos at it too, as if he’s in love with the moment, as if he truly can’t believe he’s finally got a pussy to lick. And he swallows each mouth full of your slick before muttering curses and promises against your swollen little bud. 

“Please,” He moans, nipping and licking against you. “Been so long since I’ve eaten pussy, rub it on me- fuck-” he continues to babble, heat-of-the-moment-talk coming out as far more arousing than cringe if you listen hard through your ringing ears. “Come on,” He continues, now neglecting his own cock and gripping your ass with both hands, shoving you back and forth on his face in painfully slow and harsh grinds. “Come on, harder.”

As if you can function at all right now with how rough he is about trying to pleasure you? Fucking hell, the words ignite something in you as you pull back and away from him. For a split second, you see his blown out pupils and fucked up hair as he licks his lips and presents that shining lower-half of his face to you. 

You don’t look for long though, no. Because you’re too busy pushing him to the side and forcing him to lay back on the couch instead. You resume your position afterwards, straddling the couch on either side of his head with your knees and planting your pulsing cunt right on his eager tongue. 

“You’re too hot,” You moan, feeling his hands go straight back to your ass to force more of those harsh grinds against him. “If you could see yourself right now–” Your eyes roll back in pleasure as you feel his moaned out chuckle hit you right in the clit. It’s like he knows he makes you feel good, but does he really? 

Does he truly understand how fucking good at this he is?

 “God, if you could feel how good your tongue is–” You continue, now losing yourself in the heat of the moment, feeling his fingers nearly bruise your ass with the death-grip he has on you. 

He nods his head in what little space he has as he spirals into heaven behind his eyes. The smell of you suffocates him, the taste of you drowns him, the weight of you is nothing short of sexy as hell. This is all he could ever want. A pretty girl using and abusing his face, much like he wants to do to you. But oh, there’s so, so much he wants to do after so long of having no one but himself. 

Eat you out, finger fuck you, slide his cock down that pretty little moaning throat of yours, grip that hair and kiss those tits. God, he wants to do everything right now but he can’t bear to push this perfect clit off of his lips. He cannot fathom losing the taste of you and the way you clench around the tip of his tongue. 

Oh fuck.

“Ahh- '' Mark moans open-mouthed against your clit as his brain hits a wall, his cock standing stiff from behind you as he spills out against himself again. Untouched completely, he cums without any effort where as previously it took him hours just to get off because he’d grown so fucking bored of everything. 

You’ve ignited him. His drive is higher than it’s ever been after being neglected for so long. God, he wants to fuck you so full that you can’t bear to leave him. 

“Fuck–” He continues, trying to lend licks between his jerking body to keep your arousal peaked. “See how bad I need it?” 

He finally manages to pull back, feeling you lift from his face just for a moment after noting the way his entire body is shaking. He’s not having it though, as he cranes his neck in chase of your dripping hole once more.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He adds now, enveloping his lips around your clit again and using both hands to force you right back down on his face. 

There, you feel the way he almost passionately makes out with your pussy. As if he’s thanking you for a second orgasm within the past ten minutes. As if he truly can’t stop wanting to fuck something, someone, anything at all.

Goddamn, what a fucking deal. All hail the hook-up app that brought this insatiable sex beast to your apartment.

“Mark–” You start, grinding down for him and feeling his hands now move to rub up and down your back. “Keep your tongue in me.” You choke out, gripping his hair to hold his face in place as you sit his tongue inside of you, short and jerky thrusts forward to bump your clit against his nose. 

He’s gotten off twice now, it’s your turn. 

And you watch as he drops his arms from you and grips your outer legs through it, letting you use his face until he can’t breathe. Both of you are seeing stars through it, your orgasm bubbling up so quickly that you can barely warn him when your hips halt in a stiffened clench and he’s finishing the job for you. 

Your legs squeeze around his head, your fingers pull his hair, and still he manages to find the space to tilt his chin up just to tongue-fuck you deeper, just to rub his nose harshly against your clit, up until he feels your quivering pussy spill all over his chin, down his throat, stealing any breath or moan he could possibly give right now. 

You’re out of breath by the time you finally slide off of his face, your hands immediately shooting to both of his cheeks as your sensitive clit drags down his stomach for the easy position change. You wince when you lick against his lips at the sensitivity, being sure to seat yourself right against his cock. 

“Hah–” Mark lends a breathy laugh against the way you lick his lips, his hands going right back to your ass and landing a sharp slap to it. “Couldn’t even get our clothes off first.”

You take a second to pull back and look at him, noting the redness against his cheeks and nose, likely from your panties consistently getting in his way and then you chuckle back at him. You’re thankful for the short break the two of you seem to be taking at the moment. Still, you lift up from him just to remove your shirt, exposing your tits in an instant solely because you didn’t wear a bra for this exact purpose. 

He’s still hard, despite two orgasms. You feel him rubbing it against you every few seconds, right up against your saliva and cum-soaked panties which, mind you, are insanely uncomfortable right now. It feels as if they’re slicing through your thigh with the force of how Mark managed to keep them shoved out of his way. 

“Just lay back,” You smile at him, allowing him a longer rest for now as you take it upon yourself to remove the barriers. “Let me take care of you now.”

Mark has hearts in his eyes as he watches you. Normally, a girl would already be falling asleep after all that, leaving him with not enough orgasms and no actual fucking. It’s not his fault he could do foreplay for upwards of three to four hours before going for the finale. Which, arguably, can and will last several hours longer. 

Still, you appear to not be finished either, with your breathless smile and gentle hands. He bites his bottom lip through a smirk as he watches you, tits on full display to keep him satiated for now as you move around on the couch to get his pants off of him. He helps a bit with a little kick, his cock still so sensitive and pathetically weeping for more. He feels lucky to have found you, almost baffled that he may have met his match. 

You lend several glances at his cock, not quite realizing the way he’s blinking at you right now. To be fair, it’s only natural to have your attention on that thing right now. You swallow around your nervousness regarding the size but equally want him to fuck you senseless with it. You already feel entirely fucked out, but…that. Oh, that could change your life, probably. You can imagine he won’t be as gentle as you expected before all of this too. Would probably shove it in all in one go and lose his mind at the feeling. 

He’s probably going to split you open and make it feel good for you too. Somehow. 

Anyway, enough of that. You’ve still got to get his shirt off, your uncomfortable skirt and panties too. 

You make quick work of it, as you stand to your feet and expose yourself entirely to him. Mark just watches, humming and moaning at each new expanse of skin you show to him. He keeps his hands to himself though, likely so used to feeling of them that they’d bring no pleasure at this moment if he were to jerk off to you doing this. And you just…look right back at him.

“Come on,” You smile at him again, lending your hand out for him to grab. “Bedroom will be more comfortable.”

Right. Bedrooms exist.

Mark follows, cock heavy and sensitive against his thigh with each step as he tries to get up close behind you. His eyes stay on your ass as you walk in front of him, and it’s not hard for him to keep his hands on it. In fact, he’s touching you as often as he can, trying to remind himself that he’s with someone right now who actually wants him. 

You seem to be willing to let him do what he needs tonight, and hopefully it won’t be the only time. 

You feel him on you, clinging so closely, hands constantly groping, lips always trying to reach the back of your neck and shoulders, to the point it’s actually difficult to get to your bedroom because you want nothing more than to turn around and shove him against the wall, all to try and take him into your mouth just to see if you can.

He doesn’t really let you think about that for too long though, because the second you get to your bedroom, he’s grabbing you from behind and lifting you in his strong arms. You writhe in his grasp with playful giggles, feeling the strong hold he has on you, keeping you in place against him as he stumbles forward with a deep inhale into your neck.

He’s quick to make his way to your bed, dropping you onto it, flipping you over onto your back, and immediately slotting himself between your legs. He hovers over you for a minute, looking directly into your eyes as his hair falls forward. 

Somehow, you’re more focused on his face than you are of his cock that he’s sliding up and down your core right now. You reach up to his hair, brushing it out of his face and feeling the sticky sweat at his scalp. 

“Could eat you out again.” Mark mentions, hips thrusting against you but eyes calm and level with yours. “Could lock me up in here and just use me all day if you want.” He continues, partially being serious about it, but treating it as if it’s some kinky joke instead. 

Because let’s be honest. If there’s any job Mark could do better than anyone else, it’s be a woman’s fuck toy. Always ready to go, always stiff and horny, always willing to please. 

“Could slide in right now and let you feel how hard I am.” His voice gets breathier as he talks, and you can tell he’s just imagining everything he wants to do. He probably worries he’ll have to go home at some point tonight only to resume his search for potential fucks to keep his need satiated. 

He probably thinks he’s going to exhaust you. 

“Could let you do all of that and more.” You respond, lifting your hips just slightly to press his cock between your bodies, throwing your legs around his waist simultaneously with the way you wrap your arms around his neck. “You want me to lock you up in here?” 

Mark nods with a sigh, squeezing his eyes shut as if he can imagine it. 

“Do you work tomorrow?” 

He shakes his head with another sigh, focusing on the way you keep humping up against his length, sliding yourself in whatever way you can against him. 

“Maybe I’ll just have to do that then.”

Oh, damn. 

The heart eyes are back. The very thought of being in this room all night and all day tomorrow drives his cock to pulse and twitch. Foreplay can come whenever, fucking can come whenever, he can cum whenever. There’s no need for a to-do list. No need for a specific structure of rules on how this needs to happen. Foreplay, sex, sleep. Not with Mark. 

Sex. foreplay. sex. foreplay. for hours. He’ll keep you up all night if he can, fucking and sucking every part of you, into the morning hours straight into tomorrow night. 

Free use with you from now until you’re tired of him. You can do anything you want to him but for now…

“Yeah?” Mark breathes out in excitement, arching his back slightly to let his cock land against your hole, and then he pushes forward slowly. The bulbous head spreads your lips and stretches out your slick pussy with ease as he continues to speak. “Feel that?”

Your eyes flutter shut at the sensation, fingernails already digging into his shoulders at the anticipation as your legs loosen around him. He continues to push forward, inch by inch, painfully slow as if he wants you to feel the burn and stretch even while being as wet as you are. 

“Ah–” He confirms for himself as he watches your face, wincing, mouth falling open. “Yeah, you feel it.”

God, yeah. You do. You feel the weight of his size inside of you, stretching you open so good he probably wouldn’t even have to move for it to hurt. But he does move, he does continue to slide in, savoring every second of your walls quivering and suffocating his cock. 

“Goddamn,” He groans, lifting up on both arms and bracing himself as he looks down, only to find he’s only slid half of his dick into you, and already you’re about as breathless as he is. “Didn’t realize how tight you’d actually be–” 

He chokes when he says it, sliding out little by little before fucking back in, pushing just a bit more into you.

“S’okay.” You try to reassure him, but it’s more for you than it is for him. You really didn’t think a cock could feel so big that it actually hurts, yet, here you are. “I’m adjusting.”

Mark moans at your broken voice, no longer holding himself back to look at your pussy grip him when he pulls out slightly. He looks at your face instead, witnessing how you take all of it in one solid movement from him. All of it, until he can feel his pelvis rest against your clit and your entire body stiffens in a tight hug around his body. 

“Mhm,” He leans back down now, humming against your cheek as he tries to control the urge to fuck. “Taking all of it, aren’t you?”

With those words, he slides out slightly before pushing back in again, trying to force your pussy to relax so that he can stop holding his breath. One hand finds its way to your leg to hold onto, the other holding himself up beside your head, and he just…watches. 

Little by little, he thrusts. Plunging into you in short-tight snaps of his hips just to watch your tits jiggle with the movements, up until he really, really can’t hold back anymore. 

You feel his cock leave you almost entirely, only to slam right back in and cause your vision to go white with a pang of pleasure. Your loud yelp pairs well with his relieved sigh of a grunt, and it appears that this is what breaks him entirely. 

That single, full thrust, lets him fall forward and nuzzle his nose against your neck and his body just goes. Instinctually chasing the deepest parts inside of you, hitting your cervix with each thrust only to drag back and make your toes go numb at the way your g-spot feels entirely too sensitive with this alone.

And god, Mark loves the way you cling through it. The way you moan each time he bottoms out, the way your nails cut into his back and the way your legs continuously fail to stay wrapped around him. He…

Oh no.

“I can go all night–” He breathes out through his relentless thrusts, almost as if he’s pleading with you. “I swear, I’m not done–” He continues to cut off his own words with choked moans as he pulls back and leans up, frantically forgetting to apologize over the fact that he’s already about to cum again.

And you feel him try to slide out, that face he made twice before already alerting you that he really must have so much to pump out of himself at this point. You don’t mind if he’s about to hit a third orgasm, in fact, you’re glad.

Your legs hold him in place as he fights to pull out, his eyes snapping to you in realization after the second time he tries. 

“No fucking way, you– you want it?” His eyebrows fall into that of a relieved release as he, too, falls right back down against your chest and lets his hips fuck freely. 

He’s not controlling it at this point. You feel him stretch you open more through his orgasm, rolling his hips but not pulling out even in the slightest now. Moving back and forth, as if trying to stuff you impossibly full while he releases those thick ropes of cum. It…feels so good even with the way the base of his cock continues to swirl and loosen you up in a painful stretch that almost feels like he’s ripping you open. Still, the pain is gone as he shakes on top of you, in fact, you feel your clit throb at the feeling of how big he is, of how hard he manages to stay. 

He didn’t even fuck you that roughly before this, but it feels like you’re already ruined. Ruined enough to want more. Enough to need more. 

“Bet that feels good,” You chuckle against his hair, feeling each pulse of him and loving the way he pants against your ear. “Not having to pull out, knowing you can fuck me for as long as you want.”

That only pushes his orgasm to hit harder. He thought he was nearing the end of it, but instead, his body goes into overdrive as more pulses of cum shoot out of him at your words. There’s so…so much of it he can give you. And if this is what you want, he’s the perfect man to do it for you. 

“Don’t say that, oh god–” Mark mumbles through the end of his orgasm, keeping himself tucked nice and deep into you as he releases his body weight and makes you feel slightly suffocated under him. “Please.”

Well, he minds his manners well enough, you shrug under him, clenching around his length unintentionally and reminding him that you genuinely can go all night, just like him.

Reminding him that maybe you really will just lock him up in this room all tonight, all tomorrow. He seems into the idea anyway, right? Both of you just free-use sex dolls for the time being…Hell yeah.

And as Mark catches his breath, he finally lifts up, pulling you with him, and sits you directly on his lap now.

“Keep going then, don’t let it get soft.” He nearly whimpers, solely due to the sensitivity his cock is now offering and the fact that after that third orgasm, he truly is gaining the ability to go flaccid between orgasms. 

And you follow his direction, though not entirely how he wanted you to. Instead of rolling your hips, you slip him right out of you and sink your face down between his legs, loving the way his cum spills out of you all the while. You don’t even say anything, not that you’d need to. He watches you, a smirk forming on his lips as he raises an arm and throws it over his eyes. 

“Shit, You’re so my type.” He groans out of the sexual frustration that still bubbles within him. You look so good down there with his cock just inches from your mouth. God, no woman has been able to go down on him for too long despite really fucking wishing they would. 

His hips always lose control, they don’t like face fucking, he’s too big to fit, they’re gagging too much, their jaw is hurting. What the fuck ever. Look at you, blinking up at him like you want nothing more in the world than to take it all down your throat. Ah, fuck, if you did that…

His hips buck up on instinct, forcing you to hold him down with your arms as you lick your lips. 

“You really live up to your promise, you know that?” You smile with warmed cheeks as you speak, blowing air gently against the head of his cock. It’s softened up a little, but it’s no longer going flaccid. You’re sure that the second you work it into your mouth, he’s going to be blocking your airways. 

Good. 

“You say that like I’m not overwhelming you with all of this,”  He chuckles as he moves his arm from his face and down to yours. “Most girls would have already sent me home.”

You circle your lips around the bulbous head, tasting the remnants of both you and him as you gently suckle before popping off and licking your lips. 

“Well, Mark–” You look back down and lend his cock a little kiss. “I’m not most girls. Besides, most guys get their nut and leave me hanging. You’ve gotten, what? Three orgasms by now? And you’re still in my bed? Wanting me to lock you up tomorrow too? What a fucking win.”

Mark rolls his eyes because you don’t even know the fucking half of it. If he were a normal guy, he probably would have done the same thing. Maybe not to you, but to others? Yeah. The thing is, he’s not like most guys. And you’re right in saying you’re not like most girls either, considering…your sex drive appears to be just as insatiable as his.

“Fuck, let me eat you out again–” Mark groans now, needing to pleasure you again, aroused by the fact that he’s basically met a female version of himself. Even if he’s just exaggerating and making himself believe such a woman could exist close enough to him. “Let me– Ahh…”

You cut off his words, dragging a loud and sensual moan from him as you sink down. Mostly to shut him up, mostly so you can return the favor for him from earlier before letting him have another lick of you. After all, you truly do appreciate him for all of this. 

“Mmf–” You mumble unintentionally, feeling each inch of his length that you swallow up pressing your tongue further and further down in your mouth. Up until you’re entirely open mouthed on him, gagging yourself when he hits your throat only to angle yourself up on your knees to point it straight down your throat instead.

It hurts, but you close your eyes in concentration, breathing through each gag, ignoring the dribble of saliva that runs from the corners of your mouth and– you swallow.

Mostly because you can’t suck. Again and again, you swallow around him just to stimulate his length, the girth stretching your lips out to the point you feel your jaw could break, but it doesn’t and it won’t. 

Within an instant of taking his whole length down your throat, you feel his hands in your hair. Your ears are ringing, otherwise you would also be listening to him choke on his words at how you’re doing this to him. All of it. You’re taking him in full, not leaving an inch out, seemingly proving that your mouth can be fucked just as good as your cunt.

He’s in heaven, head spinning as you stimulate him through each gag and sputtered out chokes of a moan. He can’t help it when he grabs your hair, he really doesn’t mean it when he pushes your head down while pressing his hips up. Essentially choking you and suffocating you in full with a paused hold. 

You brace yourself on his hips when he does this, squeezing your eyes shut and continuously gagging from the way he abuses your mouth with just that small movement, and then– he pulls back.

“Ahh,” He groans, snapping his hips back and holding you by the hair to keep you from chasing. “You like that?” He continues, letting you breathe but not answer at all before he’s pushing your head right back down, holding you there again and fucking his hips up repeatedly into your throat this time. 

The sounds are pornographic at best, concerning at worst. You, searching for air somewhere between his thrusts, the sounds of wet sputters, drooling, whimpered groans from him, and desperate gasps and gags from you. Truly, Mark is in heaven right now. With you, specifically, you’ve brought him to heaven.

For you, it feels like he does this forever. You’re losing the ability to comprehend what breathing ever was in the first place, thankfully though, Mark can see the tears pouring from your eyes and feel the way you fall slightly limp, letting him do as he pleases before he realizes– he may actually be overwhelming you now.

He snaps his hips back quickly, pulling you up and off of the last remaining inches of his weeping cock before taking a good, long look at your gasped breath and abused lips. Tongue licking out and eyes stained. 

“I’m sorry, fuck, I–”

Instantly you press yourself down on him once again, resuming your original position of sliding him in until you can’t stand the feeling in your throat, gagging and swallowing around him time and time again. You feel proud of it, proud of the pain, proud of the suffocation. 

Fucking proud to not be finished with him compared to every other person, apparently. 

“Jesus–” He groans now, his entire body slouching against your bed as he slams his head back and starts petting your cheeks. “It’s like you were born for this. For me.”

You hum around the gags, growing accustomed to swallowing him up and feeling your jaw strain. And just a few moments later, you pull up with a deep breath, a smile, and you start rubbing your jaw. 

“Maybe I was,” You try to talk dirty, wanting to drive him insane. “You taste so good.” You add, dipping down again to lick a long stripe up the underside of his balls up to his tip. “Any girl should be proud to say you’d fuck her mouth like that.”

A twitch, he rolls his eyes back and clenches his jaw. 

“How are you so…” He breathes out, reaching his hands blindly for you, only to feel you shift on the bed and essentially sit your tits into both of his hands. “perfect?”

You shrug when he opens his eyes, you’re now hovering over him, both hands covering his on your tits as you force him to squeeze and grope. 

“Maybe it’s best to not ask questions.” You tilt your head playfully. “Besides, if I’m lucky maybe you’ll stop trying to find other girls to fuck. They can’t take care of you like I will, anyway.”

Oh, you damn fucking right they won’t. 

“You can have it any time you want.” Mark smiles, relishing in your tits warming under his palms, watching the way you hover over him tall and proud on your knees. “Could play with you every day and never get bored.” 

You feel him move his hand from under yours, going straight between your legs and sliding not two, but three fingers into you with ease.

“Still so wet too,” He hums, eyes narrowing at you with that same pretty grin. “You always this horny?”

You shake your head. 

“Not usually, you just turn me on.” 

Mark feels proud of that. He doesn’t feel like the odd ball with a dick that can’t be satiated no matter how many pussies he plows through in a night. Which, again, for the past year has been a total of zero pussy. You getting turned on by that makes him feel…capable. Makes him feel like maybe he can be put to use by a pretty girl. 

Makes him feel like his need is wanted and well taken care of. 

“So, I can keep calling you?” He asks now, fucking his fingers up, loving the warmth and slide, anticipating for when he gets to bury his cock in you again. 

“Mhm.” You hum, closing your eyes to enjoy the pleasure of how deep even his fingers reach. Kind of ready for him to stop talking and just focus on what he’s doing to you.

“Even if it’s every single day?” He continues to ask, now using his thumb against your clit. “Even if I need you in the middle of the night?”

Anything he wants if he can keep hitting your g-spot like this. 

“Yes, Mark,” You sigh out of aroused frustration, now wiggling your hips to chase that stimulation inside of you. “I’ll give you the fucking key to my apartment if you want. Just let you walk right in and start fucking me.”

His fingers move faster at the image, the implication of not just free-use, but true free use. Real free-use. 

“Yeah? Wake you up with my cock sliding into you?” He urges you to keep talking, now removing his other hand from your chest and circling it around his cock. “Just walk right in and get my mouth on you while all your friends are here?”

You lend a surprised chuckle, but pay no mind to his words past the arousal it brings to you. You’d tell him about how you have a total of like two friends, and half of the time they’re too busy to show up anyway. Still, the image is hot at the moment. All of it is hot. 

“You’d let me?” He continues pressing every button both physically and mentally, unaware of how easy it is for him to talk as if it’s a normal conversation solely because it’s kind of his general state of living at this point. You, on the other hand, are not used to having a full conversation while your g-spot gets abused. “Even if you’re not home? Let you come home and find me fucking myself for you?”

Oh.

“Fuck–” You groan out at the image, feeling his fingers reach so perfectly, thinking of how it would feel to walk into your apartment just to see this pretty man chasing that tight ring of fingers his fist creates. Probably so turned on and frustrated that you’re not home…so frustrated that all he could do is drop to the floor and start fucking. “God, yeah.”

So that’s what you’re into. You love that he’s that pathetic to fuck. And lucky for you, he’s more than willing to continue to be that fucking pathetic. 

“Does that feel good?” He hums now, watching how you fuck yourself against his fingers, lifting slightly to lick against your nipple. “Can I use my cock again?” He babbles almost, brain on constant loop of you actually giving him free reign of your apartment someday so he can come and–”Please, do this on my cock.”

This is the second time he’s asked you to ride it, and you think that may be one time too many. You almost feel guilty for taking him down your throat first, but then again, you don’t. Your body vibrates knowing you’re about to split yourself open on him again, only this time having full control. 

“You want me to sit on it, Mark?” You smile, thrusting your hips down and sinking his fingers into you so deep that you physically can see his brain malfunction. 

The frantic nod he gives is somehow less powerful than how he lifts his hips, forcing you higher on your knees as his fingers slip out of you and immediately land in his mouth. 

Man, this guy must love the taste of pussy. The image of him doing that alone is insanely arousing to you as you lend him a short nod and slide back, your pussy sucking in the head of his cock instantly as if the two of you move together so well, that it was only natural to not need a guiding hand for it. 

He sinks his head deep into the mattress with the way you try to sink down on him. He holds his breath with those same fingers in his mouth, squeezing his eyes shut at how tight you still are, how wet you still are. 

And he’s shocked, almost, at the way you just keep sliding down. Not letting yourself re-adjust to his size, holding your own breath and bracing yourself on his abdomen just to keep balance and you wince through the stretch. 

“That’s it.” Mark soothes your hips as you sit, clenching around each one of his twitches inside of you. “Doing so good.” He breathes out this time, trying to hold back his moan just for a moment as he awaits your moan first.

And it comes quickly when you lean back rather than against him, arms by his knees as you practically present his cock to him buried entirely into you with this position. He lifts his head and stares at it before reaching his thumb to your clit, immediately pressing hard circles against it. 

“Ride it,” He pleads now. “God, please ride it.” He loses his mind at the image, really, as you do start moving. 

Pained whimpers falling from your lips as you circle your hips, fucking just an inch of him in and out of yourself, forcing the deepest part of your pussy to take the abuse more than anything else. And you know he loves it with the way his thumb stops rubbing your clit, with the way he can’t decide on if he should look or throw his head back and fall into the sensation. 

It’s really cute to witness, and you’d lean forward to kiss him if you had the strength to do it, but you don’t. In fact, all the strength you have is currently bubbling up inside of you with a sharp, almost burning sensation. 

You know exactly what this is. You’ve practiced it time and time again alone in this bed. 

“Oh, oh shit, Mark–” You groan as you frantically start moving your hips through the full and splitting feeling of him inside of you. Your voice sounds so panicked, it almost scares him. And honestly? Had he not have finger fucked you against your g-spot previously perhaps you could last longer on him, but no. 

“What– What’s wrong?!” Mark’s voice is broken when he quickly leans up, hugging around you as you continue to ride against him, faster now, chasing, chasing, chasing. 

Pushing, pushing, pushing.

“No, no!” You moan out, shoving him back against the bed and now lifting entirely from his length before slapping your own clit, fast, rough circled motions before each slap. “Oh, shit!” You nearly yell, witnessing it squirt from your body straight against his abdomen and chest. 

Mark just watches, mouth agape and eyes wide. 

“Oh–” He stares. “Oh yeah?” 

And you’re not even done when he seemingly takes full control. Allowing all that squirt to fall out of you, ignoring your shaking legs, tipping you straight back and plunging his cock right back into that release of pressure inside of you.

“You just weren’t gonna tell me you could do that?” He grunts against your ear, fucking into you so hard and so fast that your orgasm just keeps coming. It feels too good to speak, too good to breathe. 

Even as it subsides and you’re trying to catch your breath, he doesn’t let you. He just keeps going, grunting incoherently against your ear, snapping his hips harder than you think he’s probably ever done before. 

Honestly, with each yelp you let out, your sensitivity goes from being unbearably painful to–

“Do it again–” He urges you. “Give me another one.” Babbling, cooing, fucking moaning all over your neck until his lips hit yours. 

Somehow, that gives him exactly what he wants as he feels your legs tense up and fall open around him. Your pelvis slamming into his so hard that it’s, quite literally, splashing out of you in loud and painful sounds. 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” He nods and whispers against your tongue, sucking it into his mouth before licking into yours, nearly rabid with the way he’s both kissing and fucking you, he can’t help it. He forgot words the second he felt the gush rush past his length, trying to force it out of you only for him to go harder. Like hell he’s not going to feel you literally squirt on his cock. “So fucking messy.”

At one point, you think you might have actually died. You’re not sure but you swear you saw him fucking you in third person for two solid seconds before being slammed right back into your body. The pleasure genuinely is so overwhelming that…well, suddenly you understand why girls probably think he’s too much.

But goddamn he’s…so good. Like, you remember him mentioning his body count through his one-sided sext session with you and you can argue his inexperience probably made this that much better. He’s a fucking natural. 

And as he continues fucking into you, all you can do is lend him a distant smile. You’re definitely not experiencing real life at this moment, and you know he sees it with the way he lifts and keeps his eyes on your zoned out expression. 

“Look at you.” He echoes against your walls. “So, so pretty.” 

And he just keeps doing that, whispering praises, working you through his presumed last orgasm of the night because he genuinely can’t not fill you up with his cum one last time before letting you rest. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

The “rest” didn’t last long, but to be fair you didn’t need it to. All night, and all day. That promise was kept and Mark remained insatiable throughout all the time he spent with you.

To the point you very nearly felt strange about him leaving. Like you’d grown so accustomed to having someone literally attached to you at the dick that you knew the loneliness and silence would hit you a little too hard once he leaves you. 

And, well, he does leave in a sense, but not completely. 

Though you never truly meant that offer in the midst of sex-talk, Mark seemed to have clinged to the idea of it. Lock him up, but still give him the key. 

Never in your life would have imagined giving a person the key to your apartment, and yet…there he goes. Backing out of a guest parking spot in front of your building with your spare apartment key in his pocket right next to those fucking panties. 

[shaguro]

synposis: the story of how you met your sugar-daddy, nanami, at the cafe you work at. ♡ (the prequel to this drabble!)

ੈ✩‧₊˚ tags: sugar daddy nanami! (college student/barista reader x coo nanami), reader is fem, age gap (nanami is 30, reader is 24.), ceo gojo cameo at the start, flirty nd playful banter btwn reader nd nanami, anna is reader's coworker nd friend. nanami calls reader sweetheart once, nanami is just smitten with her as soon as he sees her. sweet fluff! as a whole, this is very light-hearted and unserious y'all. — w.c: 2.2k. ♡

angel's note: consider this my official comeback from my hiatus! thank you so much @preciousamethyst for beta-reading, love you downn. ♡

“you’re telling me out of the five blind-dates that i set up . . . you didn’t like any of them? not even a little bit?” satoru asks incredulously, the french-vanilla latte in his hand almost spilling on the table as he leans forward. “you’re too damn picky, nanamin! they all seemed like nice, respectable ladies to me.”

nanami sighs, looking up from his laptop with an annoyed expression on his face. “the last one didn’t have any teeth . . . and can you keep it down? i’m trying to focus and you’re making a scene, as usual.”

“oh, heh. my bad.”

nanami’s eyes linger on the white-haired man for a moment before focusing on the screen in front of him again. he’s not sure why satoru tagged along to this new cafe with him on his lunch break. (when he clearly stopped visiting his favorite one to avoid him.) it’s not like nanami could say no, anyway — satoru is his boss. his annoying and extremely invasive boss who always finds a way to be in his way and in his business.

it goes without saying that his dating life is certainly not off-limits.

unwrapping the chocolate eclair he just bought, satoru takes a bite of the puffy pastry, humming once the sugary goodness hits his tastebuds. “you were right, nanamin. this does taste amazing.“ he pauses between his words to lick chocolate off his bottom lip, then off his fingers. “maybe we need to try a different approach . . . dating apps! ever tried tinder or bumble—“

“no.” nanami slams his laptop closed, shooting all satoru’s incoming questions down. “i don’t need your help. let’s try ‘letting things happen naturally and staying out of my business’ for a change, yeah?”

“but i have everything planned out! it’ll take me two seconds to make your profile and i have the perfect bio for you — thirty year old trick looking for a pretty woman to spend all my money on — how’s that sound?”

“terrible.” nanami deadpans, placing his laptop into his briefcase. he lifts the sleeve of his shirt, checking the time on his breitling navitimer before standing from his seat. “you have fun with that. i’m getting my pastry to go, i’ll see you back at the office.”

satoru’s jaw is on the floor. “but, nanami—“

without another word, nanami leaves a whining gojo to make his way towards the line that was, thankfully, empty. the baristas don’t notice him, backs turned while they talk to each other by the back counter and nanami doesn’t mind — it gives him more time to decide on what pastry he wants anyway.

truly, he doesn’t understand the obsession surrounding his love life. while nanami is looking, he is by no means desperate. even he knew it was a bad idea to present yourself as a sugar daddy on a dating app, unless you’re an idiot or just lacking a single ounce of dignity.

both categories that satoru fits into, nanami thinks. 

kneeling slightly for a better view at the assorted desserts behind the crystalline-glass case, nanami’s unsure of which one to choose. this cafè’s selection is extensive, they offer much more than what he’s used to; tarts, cakes and pastries that he’s never even seen before. ultimately, he opts to keep it simple with one of his favorites: a fluffy cinnamon roll with extra vanilla glaze.

“girl, i’ve been working real hard and i still don’t have enough saved to pay tuition.” you murmur, scooping a handful of coffee grounds into the filter and shaking the brew funnel to level them. “i’m stressed out.”

nanami’s eyes flicker to where the two of you stand. while he’s never considered himself to be a nosy man, he finds his focus shifting from his lunch to the conversation you’re having, ears perked in interest as he continues to weigh his other options.

your co-worker, anna, gives you a reassuring pat on the back, her face itched downward in concern. “yeah, you were telling me about that last week . . . how much more do you need?”

“around like five-hundred more.” you sigh, brushing your hands off on your apron. anna starts to speak but you stop her with a raise of your palm, already knowing what she’s thinking. “and yes, i’ve taken out loans already. my loans have loans at this point.”

anna raises her brows. “so what are you going to do?”

“i’m out of options.” you shrug, adjusting the valves on the coffee machine to their correct settings. with a heavy sigh, you lean your head on her shoulder with a pout on your glossed lips, “it’s either i start an onlyfans or god sends me a rich old man that wants to be my sugar-daddy.”

anna giggles and playfully swats your arm. even in a serious moment like this, you find a way to lighten the mood. she plays along, tapping her chin with her index finger, “hmm, that can work! maybe you can start stripping. you watched the tiktoks i sent you, right? they touch thousands on a good night.”

“oh my god, i didn’t even think of that!” you stand straight and cup your hands on your breasts through your shirt, poking your ass out a bit. “i might need a boob job and bbl if i wanna be serious about it, though . . . plus, isn’t twenty-four a little too old to start stripping?”

“girl, please. twenty-four isn’t old and you know that. you have a nice body and you’re pretty. they’ll throw stacks just based off that, trust me —”

that whole sugar-daddy thing that satoru was suggesting doesn’t sound half as bad to nanami, right now. you get the money you need and he gets to spend time with you, it’s a win-win.

“she’s right,” nanami agrees, unable to hold back the chuckle that leaves his mouth when the both of you literally jump at the sound of his voice, whipping your bodies around to see just who that deep, smooth timbre belonged to. “you’re very pretty miss . . .” his brown eyes shift down to your name-tag. “ . . . ( name ).”

you blink once, twice — lips slightly parted, heat slowly rising to your face once his sweet compliment slowly registers in your brain and how your name flowed so easily off his tongue. just looking at this man, you can tell that he has money. he’s handsome, even more so as your eyes shift from his chiseled face down to his body. nanami stands tall, he must be around six feet. sporting a white dress-shirt and navy-blue slacks that match his tie, nanami is built. the soft cotton of his shirt clings to his biceps, outlining each vein and curve. the very top of his shirt is unbuttoned, exposing a sliver of his toned chest underneath.

there is no way god answered your prayers this quickly.

in a trance, you stare at nanami like a deer in headlights, completely enamored until anna nudges your arm, snapping you back to reality. she whispers a curt ‘you better talk to that man, girl’ in your ear and that’s you realize that you didn’t even thank him yet, how rude. 

“o-oh, thank you.” you move towards the register, giving nanami a sheepish smile whilst drumming your french-tip acrylics against the granite counter. “so um . . how much of that did you hear?”

“hmm . . . most of it.”

“the onlyfans part too?”

nanami nods with a grin. “and the old rich sugar daddy part.”

you cover your face with your hand, letting out a long sigh. this is just your luck, embarrassing yourself in front of this extremely sexy stranger. “let’s just . . . pretend that didn’t happen.” you’re certain that you were definitely not getting his number after this. “what can i get you, mr . . .?”

“kento.” nanami answers, leaning a tad bit closer and you have to crane your neck slightly to look at him, that grin still on his plump lips. “but you can call me ken.”

“oh?” you catch the cheeky switch in his tone, the teasing glint in those pretty pools of brown. he’s flirting with you and why not return the same energy? you’re interested in him, too. biting back a smile of your own, you hold his gaze, staring up at him through your wispy extensions. “ok, ken, what can i get you?”

“two of those cinnamon rolls, please.” nanami answers, pointing towards the case he’d been looking at prior.

you nod and grab a set of tongs, opening the glass to place the rolls into a small plastic bag, then into a paper bag on the counter. “just that, nothing else?”

pondering on the question, nanami’s debating the risk of what he’s about to say. it’s obvious that you’re attracted to him but this was a whole different ballgame, asking you to be his sugar baby? — really, the worst that could happen is you rejecting him and as much as he doesn’t want that, he’d just have to accept it. nanami inhales a deep breath once he gathers his thoughts. here goes nothing. 

“well, there is something that i have. it’s a proposition of sorts for you.”

you look up from the register, one of your brows raised. “and what would that be?”

“allow me to take you out a few times a week, whenever you have the time . . . and i’ll pay your tuition.” nanami pauses and shakes his head, combing some of his blonde locks back with his fingers. “no, i’ll pay all your bills. as long as i get to see you, i’ll give you anything that you want.”

you tilt your head to the left and raise your brows. “you want to be my sugar daddy?”

nanami nods, chuckling at the look of sheer disbelief on your face on your face. “i’m missing the old part so i’m not exactly sure if i qualify . . . but yes, i do.”

you scoff at that. “. . . and you just want to see me, take me on dates, no sex?” did he think you were that naive? if there’s one thing you know for certain, it’s that nothing in this world is free —  everything has a price and in this case, your pussy would be the desired currency. you pout, crossing your arms over your chest. “i don’t believe that. what’s the catch?”

nanami supposes you aren’t wrong for thinking this way. it does sound far-fetched, especially from a stranger you met not even an hour ago. he wasn’t a liar or a perv, and he’d just have to make you see how serious he is. “there is no catch. i think you’re beautiful and i want to get to know you better. i understand that this may seem too good to be true but i promise you, my intentions are pure.”

nanami isn’t surprised when you don’t budge, eyes slanted as you glare him down. (and you look so adorable while doing it.) he expected this reaction from you and little did you know, he’s already one step ahead. if his words don’t move you, then he’s sure his actions will get the point across.

fishing for his wallet in his pocket, he pulls it out, handing you a five dollar bill, “this is for the cinnamon rolls and this,” he takes out a set of bills, hundred dollar bills and you watch him, mouth ajar as he counts off each one before placing it in your free hand. is he serious? “this is for your tuition and a little extra to spend. we’ll handle the ‘loans that have loans’ on our first date, alright?”

you’re speechless, eyes shifting between nanami’s face and the money in your hand as you try your best to process what’s happening before you. from joking about needing a sugar-daddy to having one in front of you. and the man wants to spend time with you, no sex required! you surely couldn’t doubt him now, not when he gave you the money without you actually agreeing. maybe this was the blessing from god you’d been waiting for.

you clear your throat, nodding dazedly. “a-alright, yeah . . . we can talk more on our first date.”

nanami smiles once more, glancing at his watch prior to picking up the paper bag off the counter. “as much as i want to stay with you, i have to get back to the office.” reaching into his pants pocket, he slides a laminated card on the counter. “my personal number is on this card. when you get a chance, call or send me a text. i’ll see you soon, sweetheart.”

with a playful wink, nanami leaves the cafe — your eyes trailing his lithe frame until he turns a street corner, completely out of sight. it’s like you were frozen in place, the money still in your hands. when you finally decide to take a look at the business card he left, your jaw quite literally drops to the floor: this man is the coo of jujutsu, one of the biggest marketing companies in the country.

                                 kento nanami

                            chief operating officer

               jujutsu marketing and e-commerce, llc.

                                 xxx-xxx-xxxx

kento.nanami@gmail.com

now, you were definitely certain that god did indeed hear and answer your prayers. in more ways than one.

tagging: @sttoru @screampied @thebimbopalace @tojancy

© shaguro, 2023 - do not plagiarise nor repost anything on any other platform.

[sh1-n0bu]

♡︎ 𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙪𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙙 ♡︎

characters: AFAB!sub!jing yuan, dan heng, blade x gn!dom!reader

warnings: AFAB characters, overstimulation, headcannon+small drabble format, praise, degrading, cock/strap traditions, dacryphilia, usage of bullet vibrator, slight brat taming, nipple stimulation, fingering, oral, cervix fucking, begging, squirting, clit pinching, cock/strap warming, size kink, belly bulge, breeding, creampie, mating press, full nelson, just a personal headcannon of how i think they would act when overstimulated

notes: someone wrote “nobody writes ahegao quite like nobu does” in one of their repost tags and im fucking shitting tears😭😭

the giggler

jing yuan loves to be overstimulated. he loves the feeling of it, the adrenaline rush, the high, the feeling of finally cumming all over your fingers, tongue, strap whatever it may be and the feeling of you continuing to move, drawing out his orgasm while also driving him into an overstimulated mess

has the cutest giggles and laughs when he gets too much pleasure. he doesn’t even try to hide or won’t even try to hide it. why would he when you were making him feel so good over and over again? hell, he even wants other people to hear it, to remind them that you were his lover and only his. and how only he gets to feel the overwhelming amount of pleasure only you can bring to him and no one else

but, it comes with a catch. he needs a lot of foreplay and/or teasing and/or orgasm denial for him to finally cave in and shake his head before starting to blabber incoherent shit about how good your cock feels inside his gushing pussy, how he could feel your tip fucking his cervix, how he wanted you to fuck a baby inside him etc etc

and i mean a LOT of it

as a centuries old war hardened general, it’s safe to say that he had gotten used to some feelings and emotions. pleasure being one of them

so if you want to get him to break and to become absolutely dumb and drunk on lust and pleasure, you have to tease him a lots before getting into it. if not, he will somehow find a way to outsmart you and take the reigns. he’s a bit of a brat and a spoiled prince wrapped up into one after all

will tell you what to do and how to do it if you have failed in getting him needy in your foreplay. he will fist your hair and thrust his hips into your mouth, making you unable to breath for a moment or two with his clit right at your nose. will push you down and flip your positions so he could ride your face, all the while chuckling at your cute attempt to push him back down. a goddamn brat and he will show it to the fullest when you fail at your foreplay

did i mention he was a brat? well now i have. a fucking brat to the max and he isn’t ashamed of it. will definitely question your power in the bedroom, try to overpower you and he will. he literally swings a 7000kg glaive in one hand like its nothing and he will show it by throwing you around. gently and consensually of course, he wouldn’t want to hurt his beloved

but fully expect him to be cocky and devious. “can you say no to my pretty pussy?”, “so sleepy. oh sorry, i didn’t know your cock was inside me hehe”, “was that all?” you get the gist. will shamelessly yawn in the middle of fucking not because he is sleepy or tired, but simply because he is a brat. a goddamn brat

so, how can you get him to be needy and won’t make him go into his bratty side? simple. shove a long distance controlled vibrator inside his cunt and leave it there for the whole day for him to suffer at work. but if you’re going to do that, be sure to mute the ringtone for your phone for the day since he will call you, send you messages, pictures, videos every damn hour. the closer his hour for shift ending comes, the more frequent the buzzing of your phone will become because he will grow much more needier

when finally he’s back home and frantically pawing at your pants when barely through the doors, that’s when you know he had absolutely no intention of being a brat. how can he when his whole pants were slowly getting stained from his multiple orgasms?

when he’s gladly bending himself over, arching his back for you as he wiggles his hips, he will ask you to come inside. jing yuan is great with kids and such a huge family man, he will ask you over and over repeatedly to breed him. cum inside him, fill up his cute dripping cunt, put him in whatever position you want and make sure to breed his pretty cunt, you can finally raise your own family together!

remember the long distance controlled vibrator i mentioned? make sure to keep it on and buzzing inside his cunt at all times when he’s away at work, or else it won’t work. during meetings or report hearings, jing yuan had to leave to the bathroom a lot of times and it genuinely got his subordinates concerned for his health. the red face, the heavy breathing and sometimes, the jolts of his body or the bleeding bruised lips of his made the cloud knights worry and some even suggested for him to leave the seat of divine foresight early to look after his health. if only they knew just how their dearest general was pathetically biting on his hand to muffle his screams in the bathroom as he squirted all over himself

“[naaammeee], ‘m mmgh♡︎! aaaaangh haah mngck♡︎♡︎ i-i’m home!” jing yuan’s voice called out, weak mewls of pleasure slipping through as he collapsed onto the floor the moment the doors of your shared home was closed. desperately humping the floor, trying to push the vibrator deeper into his gushing pussy, your lover didn’t realize that you were leaning against the wall of the kitchen, watching him with a knowing smile. there was a wet patch growing in his usual red pants, growing more and more the further he humped the air in desperation. see? your tough brat was so easy to tame.

“you feeling okay, darling?” you call out, taking out the controlled from your pants pocket and messing with the switch. flipping it up, down, up to the highest level, before going to the lowest level. it was cute to see the ever so tough brat turn into a delirious mess from just a single small toy. all because he was being so stubborn about how you weren’t the boss of him. walking over to where he was kneeling on the floor, you reach your free hand out. tilting his head up, a thumb swiping away at the drool that was beginning to pool on his lower lip, you tilt your head to the side, asking the question again with a firm hold onto his chin.

“n-no…! no no no, not at aamgh♡︎♡︎ h-hhaaaggm not at all♡︎!” he shakes his head viciously, dragging out his words and tripping over them with moans and mewls falling in between. pathetically, he tugs on the hem of your pants, trying to get to his favorite treat, the one thing he’s been missing this whole day.

“n-need you… need you right now, need your—♡︎♡︎! need yo-our..! c-cock right now...♡︎!” jing yuan mutters between whimpers, finally, his shaky hands manage to pull down your pants and undergarments just enough to have your strap out. a needy whine falling as he places slobbering wet kisses on the tip, giving it a few licks as he flutters his lashes at you in an effort to manipulate you to give him what he was non-verbally asking.

knowing full well that he wouldn’t take no for an answer and that yanqing might come home soon, you drag him up to his feet — an action that was heavily protested against as jing yuan cries out after his favorite treat being taken away. once inside the comfort of your shared bedroom, by the time you have locked the door behind you, he was already naked. clothes messily strewn on the floor and on the bed, the many orgasm’s slick dripping down his puffy cunt to his ass and to the bedsheets eventually. you could see the light trembling of his pussy lips, an action caused by the vibrator fucking away inside him still.

turning the vibrator off, you take the toy out of his puffy cunt. jing yuan let out a drawn out mewl at the feeling, clenching around nothing as he tries to replace the empty feeling for something, anything. but seeing you starting to strip, he knew what he wanted. and he knew how he wanted it.

spreading his legs open further, his hand comes down, flicking at his enlarged clit with a jolt before spreading open his labia for you to take in how he was already so needily wet and dripping for you. a drunk giggle escaping him when the tip of your cock is right against his folds, wiggling his hips enticingly.

“[nnaameeee]~ you gotta fuck a baby in me this time, owhkayyy?♡︎♡︎ hehehe♥︎”

the crybaby

the cutest out of all three of them, in my personal opinion

he just gets overstimmed so easily and quickly, it’s adorable in the way that he brokenly begs for a moment of respite. legs shaking, smaller body jolting violently at the smallest of touches like your hand ghosting over his hardened nipples. don’t even get me started on the way he cutely squeals out loud when you pinch his clit augh

maybe it’s due to his nature as a vidyadhara and not a full human but every little touch is received with so much sensitivity and sensuality, it gets so easy to turn him into a blabbering mess in record time. push his smaller body against the wall and finger his gushing pussy while rolling your thumb over his clit. in no time, his legs are shaking as he bites your hand, his orgasm washing over him quickly and violently. but don’t just stop there, keep flicking at his clit, pinch it, tug on it, push a hand on the small bulge on his belly and he’ll be left sobbing by the second or third round

he’s noticeably smaller than the other two and it carries out into his size kink so well. he just wants to be pushed around and put into impossible, near painful positions and man-handled until he’s left a blabbering idiot

make him cockwarm you while asking him to read you a story or a book under the guise that you had a nightmare and can’t fall asleep without his soothing voice and soft cunny wrapped around your cock. at first he’ll huff and puff, saying that you’re a liar and just wants to fuck him. four or five pages in and his voice is already strained, whines coming out as hiccups and sniffles follow soon after

but just because he’s a crybaby doesn’t mean he’s an idiot. he knows how much you love his pretty steel grey eyes unfocused and hazy, brimming with tears and he will use that to his advantage. will make sure to play with his nipples or push down on the bulge in his tummy when cockwarming you so he could get teary eyed quicker. the moment he sniffles and grinds himself down on you, he knows you’re a goner and would give him what he wants

he may be a crybaby, but he’s also a goddamn minx so beware of that

tugs on your sleeve so cutely, looking at you with a flushed face and stuttered words to ask you if you wanna spend time with him in his room. today’s trailblazing expedition was too long and tiring after all, “surely you would enjoy some cuddles…?” or “i just wanted to help you patch up your wounds. i was just worried”

yeah sure, dan heng. just say that you wanna get fucked until you’re squealing out like a slut with fat tears running down your cute red cheeks. thank the aeons the express’ walls are thick and soundproof. if not, who knows the amount of noise complaint you would have gotten from everyone

has slight oral fixation. slightly. but that’s only because he wants to see you crumble and give into his non-verbal demands and just ruin him. he’s a bit too shy to ask directly after all

long serpentine tongue wrapping around your strap, pulling it into his mouth. will gag and choke so loudly with the tip of the fat dildo pushed right down his throat, hitting his uvula and choking his throat. he can complain about sore throats and pained jaws all he wants but you both know that he loves to suckle on your strap with tears filling his eyes

the most messiest cock sucker and that’s saying something bc blade is the one who has the biggest oral fixation out of the three of them. he’ll place wet kisses to the weeping tip of your cock, running the slitted snake like tongue over the weeping slit of your cock teasingly before wrapping it around your dick. loves the scent and the taste of your pre, basically addicted to it as he opens his mouth wider, slipping your cock inside the warm cavern of his mouth inch by inch

but be aware that he will also try to take advantage of this position. he will try to bat his lashes at you so he can continue suckling on your strap like he would be sucking on a lolipop, all under the guise to ‘make you happy’. when in reality, he would try to make you cum over and over to try and get you overstimulated. when in such position, just fist his hair and fuck his throat. gets him crying in no time like the crybaby he is

“… bamboo whispers in the w-wind, a secret pa-aaangh! aah aaah hmgk♡︎ a s-secret pa-act... ♡︎!“ the soothing voice of your lover drawls out into a weak sniffle, hands gripping the book filled with love poetry from his home planet tightly. so tight, you feared that he might just tear the book apart with his claws. you had crawled into his bed yet again to torment him today, the dildo hitting all the sensitive spots in his gushing cunt, dan heng couldn’t help but weakly whine when your hands around his waist tightens to not let him move.

“go on. i’m listening” you coo out, forcing him to stay still on your lap while his voice continue to drawl out. sniffles and broken pleads replacing his ever so stoic mask, a voice that is usually so cold and distant, always scolding other turning into one of mindless blabber about how badly he wanted your strap to fuck his pussy. you couldn’t help but laugh.

“is that what it says on the pages? i may be still learning the strokes but the next line seems to be the stroke for two” you point at the kanji on the book he was holding in his shaking hands, the strokes of the language seeming familiar to you. it was an easy kanji to read after all. yet not to your boyfriend it seems.

“please! p-please please move! i beg you, [n-naamee]♡︎ you gotta fuck meeh♡︎ you gotta fuck me you gotta fuck me— you have to fuck meeegck—♡︎♡︎!!” dan heng squeals, shaking thighs bucking down onto your dick, trying to gain some friction. it was enough, he had read you hundreds of love poetries from his home planet. he had been taking your pronged torture for long enough, please just fuck his cunt already!

“so impatient” you huff, putting the book away with a book marker tucked between the pages before hooking your hands under his knees. pulling him up and over until dan heng was left wailing at the sudden change in position. hooking your arms under his knees, his legs are left dangling in the air with nothing to support himself but for his hands to cling to your biceps. even then, he couldn’t hold for long as he jolts about in your arms like a hopping bunny, painting your dildo in his cum when the tip kissed his cervix.

“guuchk♥︎!! d-deep! aah ah naahmg haah t-too deep♡︎♡︎ [n-name] you’re f-fucckk fuck fuck—♡︎♥︎ fucking my cerviinxx my ceerrvv—♡︎♡︎ mngh unngya♥︎!” punched out sobs comes from his pretty lips, drawling out into whiny cries when you move him up and down. you could see the bulge in his tummy appear and disappear every little moment. every jolt, every gasp, every little whiny cry making the bulge in his tummy to get more detailed. he was so adorably small.

“‘m sorry, darling. i’m sorry, didn’t mean it. didn’t mean to fuck you this deep” you coo out apologies, lifting him just a bit so your strap won’t sink so deep to the point it would kiss his cervix. as much as you loved your crybaby gasping and writhing, you didn’t want the reason for such reaction to be pain.

claws scratching at every inch of skin he could touch, jaw slack open in a silent scream, you could barely make out his shrill yell of what appears to be your name when dan heng squirts over your cock after just a few thrusts. you could see the overflowing amount of cum just dripping down your cock, trailing down to your legs and staining the mattress. with a click of your tongue, you pinched his clit, making the shorter man sniffle with a squeal.

“‘m soowryyy… sorry sorry—♡︎ d-didn’t mean to be bad... s-soowwh uunhg hyaagk ungc gugcck—♥︎♥︎!!”

the hissy bitch

alright, so i know i’m going into territory that has been charted way too many times before by blade lovers standard but he def has piercings. on his nipples, tongue and on his clit. probably got the first three by losing a drunk bet or something or maybe he just wanted it but the last one, the clit one, is definitely his latest piercing. one that he got after his relationship with you began and he had made the sudden rash decision to get one so he could see your reaction and to feel you just messing with it while fucking him

there is a REASON why he always keeps his chest bandaged up. there is a goddamn reason and that reason is his nipple piercings and the fact that his chest is generally very sensitive im being delusional

so what does that bring and why have i specified it? simple. titty fucking. nipple stimulation. seeing his pretty big, round chest jiggle every time your cock sinks back into his dripping cunt. pinch it, roll it, tug on them, suckle on them, do anything to him with his nipple piercing and he’s scratching at your back, mauling it like an animal

the reason i see him as a hissy bitch is because he likes to throw small temper tantrums when he gets too overstimulated. he’s crying, begging, hitting your shoulders, back, scratching at them and leaving deep red scratch marks, perhaps even breaking the skin sometimes. how come blade get overstimulated quickly? because he is very touch deprived. he’s been alone and immortal for too damn long and his ass is fucking touch starved. i just know it in my bones

genuinely, he is indeed very touch starved. since his rebirth as an immortal, he had felt nothing but pain, anguish and suffering and therefore, has basically gotten immune to touches. especially the violent and bloody ones. but gentle, tender, affectionate ones? find him jumping away from your soft hands like a frightened cat, it’s goddamn heartbreaking. so when he finally gets his cunt fucked, blade would be overstimmed too fast due to receiving a sudden abundance of affection and touches

will shake his head ‘no’ when asked if you would wanna stop due to his tears. you were just concerned but blade didn’t wanted this onslaught of pleasure to stop. desperately rides your fingers, mouth, strap — anything. loves the feeling of being on top of you, gives him the slight feeling of being in control. until it all gets thrown out the window when you force him to stop bouncing, hands gripping his hips tightly as a warning. will whine and try to grind down, trying to chase that high again but will only end up with a pout and hissy tears falling down his cheeks

another one who loves the feeling of being stuffed full and overstimulated. it’s almost like he gets high from the feeling. loves having his pussy fucked in any way you please until he can’t stay on his hands or feet without shaking. it’s just so cute to see him shaking like a fawn when fucking him doggy style

prepare to have yourself used as a chew toy as well as a scratcher. blade’s almost like a cat, hissy and whiny but also so greedy and preferring certain things in certain manner. will bite at your shoulders, hands, fingers to muffle himself but also to try and get his shit together. will scratch at your back, thighs, wherever he could reach. such a spoiled brat

when eating him out, be sure to give an extra care and love to his clit piercing. constantly flicking it with your tongue would usually work though, gets his legs all shaky and jolty soon enough. maybe pair it with flicking his pierced nubs and bladie will be squirting into your mouth with an embarrassing high pitched shriek. make sure to clean up all of his mess before diving right back into his gushing cunny. he may not say it but he will expect you to go back to eating him out like he’s your last meal

has the BIGGEST oral fixation out of the three of them. like, down bad, delicious, scrumptious, sloppy oral fixation. and he is happy to give it 90% of the times due to his tongue piercing. knows how good it makes you feel and how you like to see his pretty face between your legs, sucking on the large dildo like his life depends on it. not a single thought or a single moment of choking from him, it’s almost like he doesn’t have a gag reflex

you just came back from mission, from being away from him even for a single day? unacceptable. let him bend over for you, you can get your stress out by fucking his already dripping wet pussy. too tired? that’s fine. take of your pants and get comfortable cuz’ he can stay between your legs for days

not a single minute of respite has greeted you ever since you came back from your latest mission, stepping foot into your shared home with your stoic lover. perhaps the single gentle kiss to your cheek before he started to leave slobbering wet kisses on your lips was the only warning and moment of rest you have gotten. not even shoes off yet and blade was already unbuckling your belt, giving you the puppy eyes and grumbling about how you’ve been away for too damn long. whining about how much he missed you and needed your strap to fuck him dumb. how his pretty pussy had missed you so much.

“n-nnghyaa♡︎♡︎ m-missed you... missed you s’ much, [name]! f-fuck me fuck me fuck me, fuck your favorite cunt gyyuck—♥︎♥︎ a-aaanh! haah ah ah mmngk—♡︎♥︎!!” unusually docile red eyes roll to the back of his skull, jaw going slack wide open as you push his legs up, feeling your strap hit him deeper than he thought was possible. he could feel your weight push him down, keeping it still on the bed and to stop him from wiggling his hips entirely. this new position caused his cat like pupils to widen, turning into heart shapes as you chuckle at the dazed look in his eyes.

“such a needy brat” you coo out in a condescending manner, pushing his legs up in the air with your hands hooked under his knees to keep him in place. pulling out until halfway out, you sink back into blade’s dripping cunt. a squeal tearing from his throat alongside the filthy wet squelch of his cunt tightening around your dildo. it was so easy to get him dumb.

“t-too nngh much! too muchtoomuchtoomuch♡︎! fucking m-my womb—♡︎ [n-name], y-youuwrr crush— crushing my wombgg aangh ah ah! gyyuck eengh aaangh nyaagh♥︎♥︎!!” the familiar feeling of his nails scratching at your arms takes place, tearing at the skin, clawing at any part of your body he can come in contact with. a desperate attempt to ground his already long gone mind, too deep into the throes of pleasure that he didn’t even realize his shaking hands were weakly pulling your hips to fuck deeper into his warm walls.

“don’t be so dramatic, bladie. i won’t be able to crush your womb in this position” you coo out mockingly, wiping away the fat globs of tears that continue to pour of his eyes. red and yellow eyes rolled to the back of his skull, wide open mouth letting out the most salacious squeals and shrieks of your name and how you were fucking his womb falling out. legs weakly dangling in the air, jolting and bristling at every deep thrust you fuck into his velvety walls. the lewd wet squelching noises were alongside your grunts and blade’s whiny sobs were the only noise in the room. you would probably get noise complaints the next morning due to blade’s loudmouthed blabbering self.

letting go of one of his legs, you shove your fingers into his mouth. almost as if it was an instinct, blade’s tongue wet your fingers. suckling on the two digits as it his life depended on it with the most cutest heart shaped pupils staring at you. once you deemed them wet enough, you take your fingers out of his mouth. an action that blade showed his hatred towards as his pierced tongue comes past his lips, trying to chase after your fingers.

“gghcck—♡︎♥︎♥︎♥︎!!” a sharp wail taking place as blade arches his back, his whole body shaking, soft big tits jiggling when you pinched at his pierced clit. rolling, tugging, flicking at the hardened nub as blade sobs about cumming before drenching your cock with his squirting. you had thought of him to be satisfied with it, but turns out you have underestimated your lover’s neediness when his strong scarred thighs comes to wrap around your waist, legs locked behind your back when you tried to pull out.

sigh… it’s times like this that makes you glad for your amount of stamina.

[comfortless]

Dungeoneer!König and his gf... I mean, traveling companion

but really this is how most of their practicing plays out. 😵‍💫

content/warnings: 18+. minors do not interact. sliiiight dubcon, breathplay?, masochism (without real injury), masturbation, oral (m receiving), absolutely unhinged “flirting”.

König knows his way around a blade. From the delicate daggers that thieves pluck from cloaks when the chance to strike is opportune, to the curved, dainty shashkas. His favorite would always be the doppelhänder, long things that strike fear into any man who sees it swung toward him. It’s why he chose to pay good money for one now, tossed a sack of gold at the blacksmith’s feet and demanded to have an exceptional blade crafted for him within a fortnight or so.

He really can’t afford to be too choosy nowadays: he doesn’t live on his own anymore. Before, his course was decided by tattered parchment pinned to whichever acceptable sliver of wood a wandering messenger could find. Now, it’s dictated entirely by the little knight who parades around like the finest tease in all the land. Even the world, he would gamble.

She whispers molten sugar into his ear on nights she’s drunk, lonely or especially sympathetic. Perhaps all three. She climbs into his bed: a tattered, linen sheet on the rough, cold ground most nights. Sometimes, it’s softer, a feather-stuffed mattress at an inn. Those always reeked of sin. Something carnal right where a couple must have lain together only a night prior, yet to be drowned out and washed away in the streams by some hapless innkeeper. It’s all went to his head, more than a little.

The lady knight sits across from him, tapping the rim of her mug of ale with such disinterest on her face that it’s König who feels sympathetic now.

She chose this tawdry place. Chose to don some silly armor and pretend it’s taking her to kneel in service to the King. The jobs never dwindle, but the motivation does. She never knows what she truly needs, but König always seems to.

“You want to fight? Me?,” she asks, to the wooden table rather than to him. Sluggish and gloomy with her own disappointment in this place, her own perceived shortcomings, something that he can’t fix. The King should have his head on a spear for not giving her everything she’s ever asked for, woman and benevolent thief or not.

“It has been a while, hm?”

She nods once, curls her mouth into a subtle smile that sends his heart swooping and something stirring down below.

“I suppose I’ve gotten comfortable.”

He knows well enough that he can make her less so, always seemed to with his groping and hovering. Even if she’s fed into it, a moth to flame, he’s never seen her bed anyone this entire aimless journey. It’s the rush of adrenaline that sends fire into her belly, makes her eyes shine and her legs tremble each time, never the flirtations.

König’s yet to win a bet, but this time he would wager that playing nice won’t grant him a thing. It never has with what’s dwelling in each dark corner of the kingdom’s underbelly, and it never has with her.

So when the sparring begins this time, it’s real.

The look of shock and betrayal comes immediate when she’s easily knocked back, her blade landing in the grass at her side.

“Again.” And again, and again, she says it as though the exhaustion isn’t already evident in the way her breathing grows heavy. Each time it’s the same, because the only thing he holds back from is severely wounding her. Even if he could, even if he knows roughing her up a bit is just how this should go.

“You are tired,” he observes, cocking his head to the side as she scrambles to search for her sword beneath the dim light of the moon. “Do you need a break, little knight?”

The look she shoots him is something akin to scandalized. König’s never been the one to taunt her like this. It’s new and tentative, and he prays it’s something she likes. The dresses and sparkling gifts from the dungeons did fuck all for any sort of progression, and by the end of the night she would know how dull all of this has become to him, too.

“I am not—“ A parry, a feint, a jab that lands on the air rather than striking true. Not enough. “I’m fine.”

It’s never been in this impromptu plan to shove her down, but that’s what happens when she doesn’t take it seriously. She moves towards him again. Steel clatters against steel, sinks forgotten into the grass. With a hand adhered to the back of her thigh and another at curve of her back, he drops her down too. No briny sweat clings to his temple, all of this is more simple than even the training he had as boy.

She doesn’t even kick at him, docile as any doe when she makes the assumption that all of this is playing pretend. Just another game: he’s less fit to be a monster than even the weak things dwelling in the dark in her eyes.

“I do not want your mercy,” he growls against her neck, weaves his fingers into her hair and tugs her head to the side. Just a little. Just enough. “Be sincere. Hurt me.”

“What are you talking about?” Her voice is a mere peep, lost to the wind that whips by and tousles all but the man affixed to her.

Explanations have never come easy for König. Not with words, not even with letters. He’s killed men without telling why, left wandering ghosts and their wives bereaved time and time again. It’s not something worthy of an answer, nor a thing he ever thought she would even ask. It’s never questions with her: only orders. Even a tamed horse can lash out, kick its master right off to trample if it sees fit. König is no different.

He licks a stripe up her throat, relishes in the way her breath catches and her hands rise to dig nails into his arms. His teeth catch right along her jaw, inhales against her cheek, and when she grows tense below him, claws her way down to his forearms, he knows she’s finally well aware of how this ends.

His hands study the expanse of her body, fisting the linen of her tunic upward to reveal all soft flesh and no more tricks. There’s an aching bruise on her neck, chest, below her ribs before the knight finally presses her palm to his forehead and kicks a rib to wind herself away.

“You’re so…” The word she searches for dies on her tongue when she scrambles over him, feels how greedy he truly is when his hips tilt skyward and the throbbing erection presses against her rear.

“Stupid, hm? Say it.”

She curls a hand around his throat and squeezes, her eyelids sinking to shield the dazed glimmer there as he slips a hand into the front of her trousers. A callused thumb brushes over her clit before drifting further, down where he realizes that he’s found a new treasure. She’s already wet.

“You are. Big fool. Brute..,” she grits out, delivers another blessed press of her hand. All another feint, because she remains stationed above him. Even mimicking the groan that rattles his throat beneath her palm with a sigh of her own. “I could kill you. You know that I…”

The knight dips her head to press against his chest as he spears a thick finger into her, and a greed surges through him at this sudden compliance. Poor thing is so winded that she does little else than blanket him and shiver whilst he grins as though he’s devil-possessed or the luckiest filth in the world. The thought of her fitting any cock- let alone his- seems unimaginable, so obscenely tight as she squeezes around one digit that it pulls even an appreciative grunt from him.

“You could try it.”

Her fingers dig into the skin at his neck, and none of it is enough. She’s so gentle with him, because maybe she even believes that she could. Killing wild men without masters or loyalties, just like the men in the stories she fancies. König guides a hand up to help her, presses down around his throat with more ferocity as she lifts her head and stares down at him like he’s truly gone mad.

“You want a leash..?,” she huffs, pretends she isn’t leaking onto his hand.

“Only if this—“ Another finger, a deliberate curl of both as they press to something soft deep inside of her. Something that makes her whimper rather than bark. “—is holding it.”

She only looks at him, sulky and humiliated when she’s pleasured, stumbles over some other mumbled insult as her back begins a slow arch. He guides his hand back to her thigh, pets along her softness and watches her with such adoration, a pleased purr rumbling in his chest.

“Look at you… cute thing.”

“Not a thing.” Her hissing only further goads him, because she does nothing to pull away, can hardly meet his eyes even with fire and hatred on her tongue.

“Ja… meine dame, is that right?”

Her breath catches as she grinds herself where she’s been impaled, legs trembling as his thumb brushes over the bud in repetition. It’s too soon, but he allows her to have her rapture, gaze drifting from her hair to the curve of a hip as her cunt gives a greedy pulse. All armor is shredded and ripped away, no defenses, catapults or blades, all are exchanged for soft cries and a burning ache. The hurried breaths she takes come almost stilted as she gives his fingers another generous squeeze, and he only feeds them into her with unhurried hunger.

“I want to feel it,” he huffs into her hair, savors the way she tightens the grip around his throat until his voice fetters to a whisper. “Just once, please.”

“No… not..,” is all she manages before the wave reaches the shoreline and she unravels over him. He feels the walls of her cunt throb as her head ascends to his shoulder, burying herself there in shame or bliss. The orgasm is soon but drawn out, some pent up need finally freed to open air, the very same longing that remains prevalent and urging inside of him. He fucks her through it with a bitter fervor, spearing and scissoring the fingers inside until her thigh draws up from around him and she detaches entirely to sit up at his side.

König is quick to rise before her, already untying the laces of what keeps him from the hope of sharing that same rapture she must have felt. The little knight only stares up at him with perplexed curiosity as his cock springs free, thick and long and angry after so many long months of suffering a callused fist or neglect. The tip drags over the seam of her lips as he takes the base of it into his palm, and the drooling maw above her only groans at the barest sensation.

“I will bite it off,” she declares, follows it up with a charming grin as though she hadn’t bruised him deeply hundreds of times prior to this.

“Ja, after… I don’t care.” And of course he does, but this is the closest he’s gotten to anything and he would be a fool not to take it, teeth or not.

She swallows pensively, then rolls her tongue over the slit of the enraged weapon in her face. Beads of salt aren’t fitting for a woman’s tongue, he knows, feels horribly dirty and miserable at the sight for a mere second before she takes him in earnest. Her lips wrap around him, send sparks of the purest euphoria through him.

“Is this how to shut you up, meine dame?”

Everything is gilded gates and ethereal meadows, the only damnation he suffers is the fact that he can’t move without bruising her: too big to feed himself down her throat, too untamed to hold himself steady should she ever allow it. He settles for her pace, watches in wonder as she allows half of him to reach into the warmth of her throat. The panting beast above her curls his hands into fists at his sides, certain that touching her would be the end of this boon of fortune.

Her tongue flicks over the weeping tip each time she draws back, hands grasping at his thighs to keep herself upright. Even when her teeth graze over the sensitive flesh, the cock in her mouth only twitches in agonized bliss. He melts before her, trembling in such pleasured fury that his nails threaten to break through the hardened skin of his palms.

“Ha… I need to… I’m going to come.” Only then does he reach for the back of her neck, forcing her in place to bear the taste of what’s to come. She doesn’t fight it, gazes up with a furrowed brow and delivers the gentlest bite along him. A warning or a dare. “Next time will be… fuck…”

Her titan crumbles before her as though wounded, can’t keep his hands in place then as he grasps at her face and his body grows taut. His hips press forward only to stutter as he tries in earnest to keep himself somewhat contained. She gags quietly when the thick ropes of seed meet the end of her, abrupt but as endless as the broken, pitiful noises that rise from his chest then. It’s miraculous how she swallows it all, bitter and hot as it spills in generous spurts.

It’s he who pulls back, giving the cock already softening a few more pulls before collapsing in front of her with acute love tucked away behind the glassy blue of his eyes. His little knight could feign indifference all she liked, but even those pretty tavern wenches and noble pricks she bats her lashes at could never have had a taste of what had just occurred here.

She wipes away spit and come with the back of her hand, tries her best to shoot him a look of disgust, but König does not miss the way that her eyes seem to twinkle in the same way his do now.

“I want to taste you, too,” he rasps, chest still rising and falling with rushed intakes of air. Even after he can’t keep himself from ruining any bit of sanctity or sanity within reach. Punctuates his statement by reaching toward her again, only to be pulled into the comfort of an awkwardly positioned embrace. His face lands against her breasts, and though he languidly runs a hand up her back, the other takes a tit. He toys with her in his palm, brushes a thumb over her nipple and rises up to kiss her cheek, silent pleas.

“You’ve had enough fun,” she answers, pulling his hand away with their fingers intertwined.

“You have more than just a mouth.” He flashes her the biggest, wettest puppy eyes he can manage. That may get him a scrap from her plate, but it’s worth nothing here. “I would make a good vater, yes?”

[clusterbuck]

yo no puedo saber

7x07 coda

Buck is halfway through getting thoroughly trounced in Mario Kart for approximately the seventy-third time when his phone, resting on the coffee table, lights up with a text. He hits pause on the game, and Christopher turns to frown at him.

“Afraid you’re going to lose again?” he asks, and Buck laughs. 

“No, I just need to check my phone real quick,” he says. “You can finish destroying me in a second.” 

“Ooh,” Christopher says, a mocking edge to his voice. “Did you get a Tinder match?” 

Buck rolls his eyes. “I have a—”

Boyfriend, he was about to say, but the word can’t seem to make it out of his mouth. He can’t quite tell whether it’s because it feels unfamiliar, like he’s not sure it really belongs to him, or just because he and Tommy haven’t actually discussed it. 

But this doesn’t really feel like the time for that particular existential crisis.

“I’m not on Tinder,” he says instead, reaching for his phone. He would just ignore it, wait until Christopher finally agrees to go to bed before scrolling mindlessly through his phone, but the preview that flashed on the screen looked long. Like it might be serious. 

Several possibilities race through his mind, but none even come close to what he sees when the screen lights up again. 

Hiii, Marisol has texted, and he can practically hear the nervous laughter in those repeated letters. Sorry if this is weird, I know we haven’t really talked! But Eddie gave me your number in case of emergency, and I’m kind of having one. Not a real emergency! Don’t want to trigger any first responder panic, ha ha. But Eddie’s birthday is coming up soon, and I can’t decide what to get him! You know him well, so I thought maybe you could help me…?

Buck stares at the screen. 

He’s not always great on dates, but he’s pretty sure texting someone else about your date is generally frowned upon. Texting in general, really, unless—maybe Eddie’s in the bathroom?

Still, it doesn’t seem like a good—

“Buck,” Christopher says, forcefully, like it’s not the first time he’s tried to get his attention. “Can we play?” 

Buck blinks. “Yeah, yeah,” he says, setting his phone back on the coffee table. “Yeah, sorry.” He restarts the game, and immediately falls far behind Christopher’s Yoshi.

“Who was it?” Christopher asks, and Buck laughs.

“You’re not going to distract me that easily,” he says and gains some ground, only to immediately get hit with ink to the face and lose it all again.

“I don’t need to distract you,” Christopher says just as he crosses the finish line. Buck makes a mental note to ask Eddie where the hell the kid got his comedic timing, because it wasn’t from either of his parents.

“Yeah, yeah,” Buck says. “New round?” They pick a course, and as they’re waiting for the countdown to start, Buck’s phone lights up again with what looks like a link, presumably to something Marisol wants his opinion on. Another one comes through when they’re one lap into the course, then another, and another. Almost like Marisol is sending them to him as she finds them.

Which… really doesn’t sound like date behaviour.

so how was your date? Buck texts Eddie when Christopher goes to the bathroom an hour later.

anything you want to tell me? he types, then hits the back button and watches the words disappear letter by letter. There could be a reason. There could be all kinds of reasons. 

But later, when Christopher goes to bed and Buck checks his phone again, Eddie hasn’t even opened the message. 

[e-m-ma-lmfao]

Ruin My Reputation

pairing : cooper howard (the ghoul) x (fem) reader

summary : he’s soft for you

warnings : blood, drug use kinda, talk of shooting

a/n : just something short and sweet so the fallout brainrot subsides.

“You know damn well I hate when you show up like this.” You let your medical supplies clatter onto the table where the ghoul sits, waiting like a hurt dog. Eyes awfully resemblant of the animal.

It’s likely that the only reason he’s here, looking this run down, is cause he’s got no vials left. If you knew better, you’d hide yours. Or better yet, get rid of them all together.

“Now c’mon darlin’,” he pauses to sputter out a cough and take a deep breath, “I thought you loved seeing me.” Shakily, he grabs his hat off his head and places it on the table.

“I love you a whole lot more when I don’t have to worry about you showing up at my doorstep on the brink of death you old..” Your words trail off and whatever insult you were ready to throw at him is taken away by the stream of air you let slip past your lips.

“I told you to quit your worryin’, I ain’t gonna die on ‘ya.”

“Oh yeah? And what do you suppose it is you’re doing right now?”

“Well if you’d quit your yappin’ and get to fixin’ I’d be doing a whole lot better, wouldn’t I?” He offers an unwelcome smile, which disappears when he winces in his pain. You hand him a vial of his favorite yellow liquid before you get to unbuttoning his shirt. After downing the vial he opens his mouth again but you're quick to cast your eyes his way.

“Looks like I didn’t need your medical attention after all, huh? ‘S a damn shame.”

“Mhm, waste of my time. Well then, I’ll cut right to it, thought I told ‘ya not to come around anymore after the last time.” Your voice trails off as you disappear to the back room to grab him a shirt that isn’t littered with holes and dirt and a shit ton of blood. Most of which probably isn't even his. And he follows behind, limping, like he’s in a trance and can’t help himself.

You hear a grunt from the other room as you rummage through a small storage box of his discarded things. Anything he left over the months he had been making himself a frequent quest in your home was in this box. You wanted to burn it. All of it. Use those little bottles of yellow liquid as a fire starter and make him watch while you did it. But anytime you tried, you couldn’t actually bring yourself to part with the tiny symbols of his presence.

“We both know you didn’t mean that,” he appears in the doorway behind you, blocking your exit, “besides I always come to my girl for help when things get rough. She's got all the good chems.”

You throw the shirt into his arms, a bit harder than intended, but he catches it with the reflexes of a man who kills for a living. Because, well, he does. You’re not sure why but every comment is making you angrier about him being there. A chem stash, huh? That’s all he thought of you?

“I wish you wouldn’t. I ain’t got time to sit around and tend to you, wait for you to get all better and leave again.”

The shirt now hangs on his body loosely, buttons open, “Now what’s got you so sour tonight. Usually you're a lot kinder to little ol’ me.” He leans against the doorframe

“Maybe the fact that I’ve got a half dead cowboy making himself comfy in my home every two weeks doesn’t sit well with me. You ever think about that before you kick your dirty boots off on my carpet?” You pause to stare at him with a raised eyebrow, “Oh, which reminds me, you owe me a new carpet.”

“What’re you talking about, woman?”

“You got blood on my carpet.”

“It was already covered in blood and dirt anyway!”

“Well, you got more on it. I liked how it was. So now you owe me a new one.”

“Are you hearing yourself? Where would you like me to go for said carpet? Anything I find you is gonna look exactly the same as the one already sitting on your goddamn floor!” He moves in slowly, cautiously like he’s practiced the art a million times. “Now I know you’re not worried about that piece of fabric out there. What is the problem?”

He swoops in close, close enough to wrap his arms around your waist with his hands clasped together at the dip in your back. You don’t push him away, though you want to. Although, all you think about is how your gun is sitting merely 5 inches away on the end table beside you. You could shoot him, if you wanted. But you probably won't.

Cooper’s eyes find your avoidant ones, the rough pads of his fingers grabbing at your chin to make you look at him. He’d never raise his full hand to you, smart man. God knows you’d think he was moving in to slap you, and his hand would be gone before he could yell ‘yeehaw’.

“You know damn well that I worry about you Coop.” Your arm finds his forearm, tugging his hand away from your face, “I just want you to stay for once, so I won't have to worry about you dying in the middle of the wasteland somewhere.” His hands find the dip in your back again, running along your skin until they rest on your hips.

“Hey now, you know I can’t stay, I got business to take care of out there.”

“Yeah, it’s always business. Always. Well you know what, so do I. So go on and get ‘fore I shoot yer sorry ass.” You step away from him, pushing him out of your way but his hands are quick to find your hips again and pull you back to him. Works like magnets.

“Now you're just being dramatic.. Alright alright, if you ask me nicely I’ll stay for a little longer than usual.”

You stare at him, eyebrows flexed in annoyance but the rest of your face has seemingly cooled down. You don’t need to say anything, he’s already agreed. He looks down at you with a soft smirk, thumbs rubbing into your hip bones.

“You are the easiest woman to please in the whole wasteland.” You feel your eyebrows relax as one of his hands reaches up to cup your cheek in his rough palm. His lips part, gazing at you with deep adoration.

“Think you’re making me go soft darlin’, gonna ruin my damn reputation.”

[cntloup]

Mafia!Simon x Bartender!Reader implied rape, the aftermath

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

“Hey, love. You have to eat something. Please. Just a bit. Try for me, yeah?” he says, sitting beside you on the bed where you’re lying, drowned in your thoughts, you can barely make out what he’s saying. 

It's all just a blur, all the sounds and images. The world around you feels all foggy. 

“What?” you ask, shaken out of your trance and you begin to come back by the sound of his voice calling out to you. 

He raises the bowl in his hand and you get the message, “ ‘m not hungry.” you say in a weak voice and turn your back to him. 

“I'll leave it here in case you wanted to eat.” he says, disappointed and heartbroken that you have turned down the food again. 

He reluctantly opens the door and takes a last glance at your form before leaving the room. 

You haven’t eaten properly for days. You have no appetite. And there’s the gnawing nausea at the pit of your stomach that keeps it churning constantly. 

Silent tears cascade down your face as you lay down on the bed for hours, bearing no energy to move a muscle. 

He sits on the couch with a half-empty bottle of whiskey, furious at the monsters who did this to you, frustrated at himself for not knowing what to do, how to help you. 

His heart shatters into pieces as he sees you slowly wither away right before his eyes. 

He's gone through the same horrifying thing long ago and he starts digging in the depths of his mind to find something. Something that would somehow help you. 

And it dawns on him that you just need someone by your side, not someone to jump in and ‘fix’ it, but someone who is there to listen and hold your hand as you process the whole thing and move forward at your own pace. 

He never had someone like that. And it just now occurs to him how much he needed it. So he decides to be that person for you. 

He enters your room once again after a few hours, “Love?”, “Hmm?”, “Do you want to go out? We can get something to eat too.” 

You turn to face him from your lying position, “Yeah, I'd like that.” you respond after thinking for a while. 

“I need to take a shower.” you say as you struggle to get off the bed. He stretches his arms to help you, but stops and looks into your eyes, waiting for your approval. 

You nod and he gently slings an arm around you to help you get on your feet and step into the bathroom. 

He starts to leave the room, but stops when you call him, “Yeah?”, “Can you... can you stay by the door until I finish up in here?” you ask sheepishly, “Yeah. Ok. ‘course, love.” he replies and sits outside by the door, his mind racing a million miles an hour. 

Until you step out of the bathroom, “Thanks, Si!”, “ ‘s no bother, love.” 

He leaves to let you have some privacy and waits for you on the couch to get ready. 

You trudge on down the stairs in your oversized hoodie and baggy pants, “Ready?” he asks, “Yeah.” you say with a faint smile, but it doesn’t go unnoticed by him, the simple gesture making his heart flutter. 

You drive around the city for some time, the cool breeze caressing your skin and the faint sound of music bring a soft smile to your face. 

You stop by your favorite place. Even though you still can barely eat, you try to get some food into your stomach after some coaxing on his part. You know you need nourishment, even the small amount you can stomach right now is better than nothing. 

“Good girl!” he praises after you take a few bites, “I can’t anymore though!” you say, almost ashamed to disappoint him, “It’s ok. I'll tell them to wrap it up for you.” he says with a smile that’s only reserved for you. 

“I’m proud of you, dove.” he utters when you both walk to his doorstep, “Thank you. Couldn't have done it without you.” you say as you stop to face him by the door, a lovely smile dancing on your lips and your eyes glinting again, not as bright as before, but it’s a step nonetheless. 

And you open your arms and step closer to him. He takes you in his arms, nearly shedding tears as he finally embraces you after so long. 

[ja3yun]

The Doll House | Lee Heeseung

doll!heeseung x fem!reader

warnings: smut (mdni), pure filth, dom!hee, unprotected sex, cream pie, oral (m&f. rec), clit biting, throat fucking, cock worshipping, doggy, pussy stepping, spanking, squirting, slight degradation and choking, pet names (baby), supernatural elements, religious themes (heaven/hell), anything else lmk!

wc: 16.8k

synopsis: with only 2 weeks left, you have formed a bond with each of the dolls, well, all of them except heeseung. as you snoop around his room to find out more about him, he gives you all the answers you're looking for and opens your eyes to a world you never knew was possible.

jongseong | masterlist |

a/n: hi! it's officially the end of tdh! i need to put a massive thank you out to @haechonly as this entire series would never have been possible without their request! you are a star in my eyes and i can't ever thank you enough for trusting me to write this! i also want to thank everyone who took the time to read each chapter and leave comments or asks, i love you indefinitely <3 i hope the ending leaves you all satisfied and all your questions answered! as always, likes, reblogs, feeback, and everything in between is welcomed :)

Folding the laundry, you glance over at the calendar on the day of your leave circled in red. There are only 2 weeks left until you finish up and you’re more than sad about it. Your heart aches every time you sleep because you know that you’re one day closer to returning to normality when you wake up.

The thought alone is overwhelming - how can you possibly contemplate returning to a life you loathe when you've uncovered a paradise here? In the company of Jaeyun, Sunghoon, and Jongseong, each fulfilling a unique role in your existence, you've found a sense of completeness that you fear will escape you once you leave. 

You're so fond of the dolls that you're willing to overlook the horrifying underworld that lurks in the library's secret room. You’ve learned that if you pay it no mind, it can’t touch you. Jongseong has reassured you time and time again that you need not worry about it, and you trust him, so you faithfully follow his guidance.

Jongseong has hardly explained anything, only that yes it was hell that lives in the flames but it’s more like a telephone than a portal - a cryptic analogy that only serves to fuel your curiosity - but he just keeps repeating himself time and time again: “Talk to Heeseung.”

Which would be fine if the doll ever gave you the time of day. He knows you know about them now so there’s no reason for him not to speak with you, yet he hardly utters a word, not even a simple thank you when you serve him dinner or excuse me when he bumps into you. He’s not avoiding you but ignoring you and for some reason that makes it worse. All you get from Heeseung is knowing stares and a sly smile plastered on his face.

You know he’s dangerous, Jongseong and Sunghoon are good at making you very aware of that, even his aura is enough to know that you shouldn’t mess with him, but their warnings about his inherent danger reverberate in your head, their evident readiness to give you to his care and seek answers calls into question his malevolence.

Jongseong said he doesn’t want to see your face when you find out, making you even more curious and it cannot be curbed until you get answers.

Grabbing the washing basket, you put the neatly folded clothes inside and make your way to drop them off outside each of the respective dolls’ rooms. They are off doing their own thing, even Jaeyun, who is typically tethered to your side, is engrossed in playing football with Jongseong, seemingly oblivious to your brief departure.

There was something Jongseong said to you over the past week that you can’t shake out of your head. He observed how close you and Jaeyun are, and how attached the younger doll has become to you. It’s not so much the observation as much as how he eyes the both of you now; there’s a knowingness in his pupils, like he’s keeping another secret from you, but you can’t figure out what. 

It’s obvious you and Jaeyun get along well, each of you loving to spend time with one another and waste the day away; as long as you’re together, that’s all that matters. You confided in Jongseong, telling him that whatever Jaeyun is feeling, whether happy or sorrowful, you feel it too. It's a connection so profound that only those who have experienced it firsthand can comprehend its depth.

Regret gnaws at you for telling Jongseong, for since then, his scrutiny has only intensified, leaving you to wonder what his meaningful gaze truly means.

You head towards Heeseung's room, initially planning to leave his clothes outside as per the rulebook. However, your rebellious streak, which has persisted almost since you got here, urges you otherwise. The last time you saw Heeseung was in the music room, practising the piano, so he isn’t around, leaving you the perfect opportunity to snoop.

If he isn’t giving you answers, maybe his room will.

Placing the basket on your hip, you open his door tentatively, scared to see what is on the other side. You’ve been in his room before but now that you’re delving into its nooks and crannies, you can’t help but feel some apprehension. This is new territory and with warnings about his character, you know if you’re caught, you are fucked.

His room is dull, his curtains remaining shut despite the summer weather outside. Come to think of it, you haven’t ever seen him sit out the front with the others, only ever being in their presence when he has to be. Sunghoon and Heeseung have a camaraderie, their personalities are woven from the same cloth, so you know they are close in some way. You’ve seen them sharing secrets and memories of their past but it’s always in hushed whispers, not letting anyone in on their fun.

Yet, when it comes to Jongseong, a noticeable distance lingers between them. Though their interactions remain civil, their friendship feels distant. Despite this, Jongseong's occasional defence of Heeseung hints at an underlying care between them, though you can't help but feel that there's more to their dynamic than meets the eye. You have enough mysteries in this house other than feuding brothers, so you’ve not given it much thought.

You set the basket down on the ottoman nestled at the foot of his bed, casting a quick glance around the room to assess your surroundings before delving into your impromptu snoop sesh. 

Your gaze drifts to his dressing table, its surface gathering dust and bereft of any adornments. It's a stark contrast to the other dolls' rooms, each of them cluttered with their interests and personalities. With a curious tilt of your head, you step closer, it's as if Heeseung deliberately keeps his space devoid of any semblance of identity or sentimentality. The only thing adorning the furniture is a scatter of dead flies that you turn your nose up to.

Jongseong had said Heeseung had been here for 8 years, surely that would warrant some decoration; even one book would be enough.

As your exploration continues, you come across a worn and torn box tucked away in the corner of the room. Kneeling down, you run your fingers over it, noticing how it’s the only thing devoid of dust in the room. Curiosity piqued, you carefully lift the lid, revealing a trove of forgotten treasures within.

Among the assortment of photographs, you come across snapshots capturing moments between Soonyeol and Heeseung. There is one photo of Soonyeol and Heeseung which she clearly forced him to be in, her cheek pressed hard against his and a smile on her face. Although it is a picture, you can feel her love for him emanating. 

Setting aside the photograph with care, your attention is drawn to another picture, this time commemorating Soonyeol's birthday. The scene is more recent, with Jaeyun's radiant smile serving as a focal point. His embrace of the birthday girl evokes a pang of envy within you, swiftly tempered by the reminder that he belongs to Soonyeol.

"Hmm, she’s 28," you remark, noting the candles donning the birthday cake in the photograph. You could have sworn she was the same age as you; maybe it’s her skincare cupboard you should be raiding through.

Nestled among the keepsakes is a handwritten note, its edges yellowed with age. As you unfold it, the scrawl of Soonyeol's handwriting greets your eyes. The heartfelt words penned on the paper speak of cherished moments and promises of eternal love for Heeseung, her words of gratitude for saving her.

You can't help but wonder what drove Heeseung to save Soonyeol. If Heeseung is indeed this elusive big bad wolf, it begs the question: why would he ever come to someone's rescue?

"What are you doing?" A low voice reverberates through the cold walls, jolting you from your exploration. Startled, you scramble to restore everything to its place, your heart pounding with fear as you hastily rise to your feet, meeting Heeseung's gaze with wide-eyed apprehension.

Heeseung stands before you, arms crossed and a frown etched across his features. His expression speaks volumes, conveying a mix of irritation and suspicion at your intrusion into his private space. You can't fault him for his reaction; after all, he just caught you looking through his personal belongings that clearly no one but him is meant to see.

Hurriedly, you retreat to the safety of the laundry basket, clutching it as if it were a shield against his disapproval, "Sorry, Heeseung," you stammer, offering a feeble explanation for your presence, "I-I was just putting your laundry away."

Heeseung's gaze remains fixed on you, his expression unreadable as he assesses your explanation. The silence between you stretches taut, punctuated only by the distant hum of the house.

After what feels like an eternity, Heeseung finally speaks, his voice cool and measured, "You know the rules, Y/N, leave it outside," he admonishes, his tone firm.

"Sorry, Heeseung," you murmur, bowing your head as his reprimand sinks in. Your body feels clammy with sweat, a lump forming in your throat, and your heart pounding erratically. It's unnerving to be alone with him for the first time, leaving you feeling timid and inferior in his presence.

Heeseung strides further into the room, his figure imposing as he sets about restoring the box you disrupted, methodically arranging his treasures back into order. As you watch his back, uncertainty gnaws at you, weighing your options for the next move. You're aware that he expects you to leave, and perhaps you should for your own sake. Yet, this unexpected encounter presents an opportunity you've been yearning for - a chance to pose the questions that Jongseong has been evading.

"You're not like the other 3, are you?" you venture timidly, hoping to broach the subject without eliciting a harsh response from him.

Heeseung straightens up, exhaling sharply as he runs a hand through his hair, his eyebrows arching in surprise at your question. "What? Because I haven't fucked you, is that what you mean?" His tone drips with disdain at your observation, his words sharp and cutting.

"No, it's not that," you hurriedly clarify, sensing his hostility, "It's just...your aura, it's different," you explain despite struggling to put your thoughts into words.

Heeseung's expression shifts, a flicker of surprise crossing his features at your unexpected comment. "Different? How so?" he asks, curiosity replacing the initial edge of hostility.

You take a cautious step forward, emboldened by his slightly less defensive demeanour, "It's hard to explain," you admit, searching for the right words to articulate the subtle but distinct quality that sets him apart. "It's like... there's a depth to you, something...darker," you struggle to find the right description, hoping he'll understand that you aren’t trying to call him evil, even if that is what you are eluding to.

Tilting his head, Heeseung starts to smirk, a glint of amusement dancing in his eyes. He licks the side of his mouth casually before speaking, his tone teasing, "You have no idea who I am, do you?"

You don’t, that’s quite obviously the issue you’re having. You suppress the urge to roll your eyes because fuck whatever would come from that. So instead, you settle for shaking your head, hoping he will elaborate of his own accord.

The curiosity is evident on his face as he steps forward slightly, “You mean to tell me you’ve been here almost 2 months, fucked each of my brothers more times than I can count, and you still don’t know who we are?”

Feeling a flush of embarrassment creep up your cheeks at Heeseung's blunt question, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air. It’s not through lack of trying, you have turned over every book, looked on every shelf, and bobby pinned your way into locks, yet you’re still in the dark.

Your silence only seems to fuel Heeseung's wicked merriment, his smirk widening into a sharp grin as he peers straight through you. "I really thought Jongseong would have caved by now. God knows how he really does love to paint himself as still a saint."

Drawing in a deep breath, Heeseung prepares to reveal the truth you've been longing to uncover. Your body stills as you realise this is finally it, everything you’ve been wanting, no, needing to know - he is about to let you in.

"We're from all over heaven and hell," he explains, his voice tinged with amusement that was targeted at your now shocked expression, "angels and demons, Baby, that’s what we are."

As his words sink in, you find yourself ensnared in a whirlwind of confusion and uncertainty. Angels and demons? The implications of such a revelation send a shiver down your spine. 

Of course, they weren't human, you knew that much, but how can they be otherworldly beings straight out of myths, the kind you only hear about in churches and Supernatural episodes? The concept is difficult to fully process, leaving you grappling with a reality that feels more like a dream - or perhaps a nightmare. You would have been much more settled if they were the ghosts of those who lived here previously - this being one of the many guesses you made about their lives.

You've grown to adore the dolls, cherishing their presence above all else. But the newfound knowledge that some of them are demons sends a chill down your spine, casting a shadow of unease over your once-idyllic existence.

Sensing your need for clarity, Heeseung's voice breaks through the tumult of your thoughts. "Who do you want to know about first?" he inquires as his eyebrows raise, "I think it's only right that we start with your little angel, hmmm?"

Jaeyun. 

Nodding, you brace yourself for whatever he is about to say. 

“You’ll be glad to know, your lover boy is an angel,” he starts to explain and you already feel a relief wash over you. If Jaeyun was an evil spirit, that would have destroyed any perception you had of him, leaving you to question the authenticity of the connection you share; the idea that he could have manipulated you would hurt your soul more than you’d like to admit.

You see Heeseung weigh up his next words, “Well…not quite, he should have been but I stopped that from happening,” he confesses, feigning remorse for his doings, “He was actually meant to be a guardian angel. When he died in an accident, his soul was so pure he was handpicked to be someone's personal dove boy.”

“Wait, what do you mean you stopped it?” you ask almost immediately, your curiosity outweighing any other emotion as he speaks.

"He was wandering the veil, the in-between of life and death, waiting to be guided to heaven when I heard him crying out, confused and scared. He died too soon, but that greedy fuck up the stairs clearly couldn’t let him just live out his life the way he wanted to."

There’s anger in his voice as he speaks; it doesn’t take a genius to know he’s talking about God. You’ve always been taught that there is a plan for everyone, that no matter what happens, it’s the right path. Clearly, Heeseung doesn’t share the same outlook.

“So I answered his call and guided him to Soonyeol and the rest of us. Jaeyun only wanted to be loved and cherished his whole life, that was his dream, and I granted it in exchange for his memories,” he sees you poised with another question, but he stops you, raising a hand to silence you, “If you’re going to ask why I did that, it’s because he wouldn’t have coped otherwise, and he would have looked at us in anger rather than love.”

You have so many new questions, but as you go to speak, you can’t. Your mouth is dry, and your throat holds back a sob. You feel awful as you think about Jaeyun being scared after death, calling out for help, and in the end being stripped of his memories. Heeseung is acting as if he did him a favour - and in some way, he has - but he has also torn him away from his path.

As you struggle to find the right words to express your thoughts, Heeseung's gaze softens if only slightly, a flicker of understanding passing between you. "I know it's a lot to take in," he offers gently, his tone devoid of its usual edge, "But trust me when I say that Jaeyun is happier here than he ever was in his old life, and certainly more than he would be as a guardian. Soonyeol needed someone to look after and that’s all he has ever wanted; It’s a win-win.”

“So this was all for Soonyeol? Be honest with me,” you ask, picking up on his last sentence. 

With a definitive nod, Heeseung doesn't deny your observation, "Everything that I have done is for her." 

That piques your interest and the pieces of the puzzle start to fall into place, “Does that mean you did the same with the others? You brought them here for Soonyeol’s benefit?”

He lets out a heavy exhale, his demeanour shifting as he crosses his arms. “You make it sound like I've wronged Jaeyun,” he counters, any trace of understanding vanishing as his cold manner returns to the forefront. 

You didn’t mean for it to sound accusatory, but you can’t help but call a spade a spade. Heaven is deemed difficult to enter - what with all the rules and hail mary’s - so for Jaeyun to be seen as holy enough to become someone’s guardian angel was a privilege he should have been able to experience.

Mirroring his posture, you cross your arms, a silent declaration of your determination. It might be foolish to stand toe to toe with him, considering his power to manipulate Jaeyun's memories and drag him to Earth, but you refuse to show any sign of weakness.

Heeseung grins, genuinely amused by your stance. He's impressed by your resolve, having pegged you for someone who would flee at the mere mention of demons. "You've got some backbone," Heeseung remarks, his grin widening as he observes your defiance, "I like that."

His words catch you off guard, a mixture of surprise and curiosity flickering in your eyes. Despite the gravity of the situation, you can't help but feel a small swell of pride at his unexpected approval.

“So? The others?”

“No, the others actually asked for my help, Sunghoon was practically crying out and begging to be saved from his cell in hell,” Heeseung explains as he reminisces about his first encounter with Sunghoon.

You nod slowly, trying to wrap your head around the revelation, “So he is a demon?” you mumble to yourself, looking down at the ground. Honestly, you should have known, he fucks you like he was part of the incubus club. Yet he is also so tender in his actions, he helps you out and makes sure you’re okay, gives you forehead kisses and aftercare - it doesn’t scream evil.

Clicking his fingers, Heeseung points them at you, a mischievous wink fluttering over to you, “Bingo. Sunghoon used to be a soldier, serving under one of the rulers in hell, Dis. The guy was made from remains of Lucifer, the Devil, whatever you want to call him, and because of that, he thought he was some big shot, ordering his soldiers to do horrific things, things even I wouldn’t do.”

You stand wide-eyed, taking in his words. You can't help but feel sorrow for Sunghoon, knowing how tormented he must have been in the depths of hell. It's an odd realisation to feel pity for a demon who you know must be bad enough to be prevented from entering Heaven.

"He couldn’t bear the torture anymore and he rebelled against Dis. Sunghoon has always despised authority; his only desire is to be in control, making him public enemy number one in the underworld. Ever been to jail in hell?" it's a rhetorical question because of course you haven’t, but you shake your head answering anyway. “Yeah, it’s not pretty. Sunghoon managed to contact me, pleading to do anything to escape. Hence, here he is.”

“What did he have to sacrifice? Or do you only make deals with angels?” you blurt out unintentionally, your distaste for Heeseung's methods bubbling to the surface.

“I’d watch that fucking tongue of yours before I tear it out and feed it to the dogs.”

Heeseung's threat hangs heavy in the air, his words laced with a chilling intensity that raises goosebumps over your body. You swallow hard, the weight of his gaze bearing down on you.

Clearing your throat, you attempt to steer the conversation back on track, knowing there is so much more to uncover, "I’m sorry, Heeseung," you say, your voice steady despite the tremor of uncertainty lingering within you, "I just want to understand.”

Heeseung appears satisfied with your apology, though his next words still carry a warning tone, “I heard a rumour you were a good girl. If you want to keep that reputation, I suggest you zip it.” Your cheeks flushed crimson, memories of your nights with Jongseong flooding your mind. You recalled the countless times he had called you his good girl, his perfect angel.

He continues, delving into the details of his arrangement with Sunghoon. "Sunghoon gave me his powers and his word," he explained, his tone taking on a grave seriousness, "I made it clear to him that he could have paradise with a girl who wanted some direction in her life, but if he ever laid an unwanted finger on her, I would hand his head to Dis myself."

You couldn’t help but feel a sense of unease at the thought of the intricate power dynamics at play within the household, each member bound by their own set of rules and obligations.

“The only person he has to answer to is Soonyeol, an upgrade from being whipped and battered with iron chains, wouldn’t you say?” Heeseung steps closer, his eyes flashing with a hint of crimson, or maybe it's just your imagination. All this information must be taking its toll on you, the headache forming in your frontal lobe might be tricking your eyes.

Heeseung's piercing gaze bores into yours and you can’t shake the unsettling feeling of being scrutinised, as if he were sizing you up as his next potential victim. Despite the growing discomfort prickling at the back of your mind, you steeled yourself, maintaining a carefully constructed facade of composure to shield against falling for his traps.

“And Jongseong? He’s a demon too?” you inquire quietly.

“Baby, he’s the furthest thing from it. In fact, you must have some powers of your own to get him to fuck you,” Heeseung responds with a scoff, his laughter ringing with a hint of mockery. He shakes his head, a sardonic smirk playing on his lips as he contemplates the notion of you and Jongseong together.

Heeseung's amusement fades into a knowing smile as he watches your face turn to confusion, "Jongseong is no demon, darling. He's a full-fledged guardian angel, just like Jaeyun was supposed to be," he explains, rendering you shocked.

Everything about Jongseong falls into place; how he's been looking after you from the very beginning, with his caring demeanour, always urging you to do what’s best, and his unwavering efforts to provide comfort and ease. It's just who he is.

As you reflect on Jongseong's constant care and support, a sense of gratitude washes over you. Jongseong has remained a steadfast presence, guiding you through the labyrinth of this otherworldly realm; he didn’t have to show you the altar or delve into how they were summoned, but he did to ease your mind, all the while shielding you from its evil secrets. It’s not that he didn’t want to tell you, it’s that he was protecting you from the hell of it all.

But if he is a guardian angel, he is too good to be here with a demon and a lost soul.

“Then why is he here? Shouldn’t he be the guardian of his human or something-” Just as the sentence passes your lips, your mouth falls open, eyes popping out of your head as you answer your own question, “He is Soonyeol’s guardian angel, isn’t he?”

Heeseung smiles proudly and claps his hands once. "You are one smart cookie," he observes, his tone without sarcasm for once. 

“Shouldn’t guardian angels be silent? Like a gut feeling?” 

Heeseung answers you with a casual shrug, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips, "Yeah, hence the doll costume. Actually…it's my fault he's stuck like that," he admits, his face scrunched up as he contemplates whether you will find his actions disconcerting or admirable. "Soonyeol wasn't listening to his pleas, she ignored her instinct, so he made himself visible - which by the way is a number one no-no up there,” he points out before continuing, “he wanted to warn her of the consequences of her actions. As a result, he lost his wings, God cut the tie between them and demoted him to a simple heaven walker. It was all quite a scandal.”

You don’t know what to say, how can you say anything when all you want to do is curse out everyone who had a part to play in Soonyeol and Jongseong’s parting?

“Then he tried to see her again, defying God and his stupid ‘disapproving actions have consequences’ bullshit. Jongseong was deemed to be sinful and therefore, poof,” Heeseung explains further, twinkling his fingers as if it were a cloud of smoke, “He was banished to heaven’s wasteland forever.”

Amusement that seems to dance in Heeseung's eyes feels wrong as if there's a sick happiness he derives from Jongseong's misery. You know angels and demons have never seen eye to eye but they are close enough to call one another ‘brother’, surely that has to stand for some sympathy?

Sensing your disapproval, Heeseung wipes the smile from his face, his demeanour turning cold. "Judge me all you want, Baby, but I helped him get her back," he asserts, his voice dripping with venom, "Without me, he wouldn't be near her." There's a bitter edge to his tone, a hint of resentment seeping through his words.

"God wanted Jongseong to never see her again, but I knew that would hurt her," he continues, his eyes flashing with intensity, "A guardian angel and their human have a bond that is stronger than any love you can even imagine, especially when they come into contact. He couldn’t live without her, his desperate longing ached so loud that’s all I could fucking hear for weeks. So I got him out of that heaven hole and brought him closer to her than he ever was."

The raw emotion in Heeseung's words sends a chill down your spine, his bitterness and resentment palpable in the air. You feel for Jongseong, caught in the crossfire of divine politics and human emotions. He only wanted to protect her and he got scolded for it, reprimanded for fulfilling his duty to her, that part is tripping you up the most. Well, that and one other thing.

"This is so confusing," you exclaim, rubbing your temples in frustration. "So it's your fault he's the doll because? Surely the real reason would be whatever he was trying to protect her from, the thing that caused him to show himself."

With a smirk, Heeseung nods, pointing to himself. "Yeah, that was me," he admits unabashedly, "She was summoning me." 

Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise at Heeseung's admission. "She was summoning you?" you repeat, incredulous.

Heeseung nods, his smirk widening into a joyful grin. "Yep," he confirms, pride creeping into his tone. "She called, and I answered.”

The implications of Heeseung's revelation leave you speechless. Soonyeol's actions inadvertently set off a chain of events that ultimately led to Jongseong's downfall. It's a sobering reminder of the unpredictable nature of their world and the consequences of meddling with forces beyond control.

"Why you?" you finally manage to ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

Heeseung steps forward, closing the distance between you with an unsettling grace. His presence looms over you, casting a shadow of unease, "I suppose I should formally introduce myself," he says, bowing his head with a wicked grin, "I'm Heeseung, formally known as Beelzebub. 

I'm a Prince of Hell."

The world spins groggily around you, your limbs going numb as the weight of his words hangs heavy in the air. You find yourself at a loss, grappling with the realisation that you've been living with none other than the Lord of the Flies himself.

Beelzebub, one of the seven Princes of Hell, holds a position of immense power and authority in the underworld. As the third in command, he wields influence and dominion over legions of demons, surpassing even the mightiest of Archangels in strength and cunning.

Despite your limited knowledge of demonology, you understand enough to know that Beelzebub is not to be trifled with. His name alone strikes fear into the hearts of humans and angels alike, a testament to his formidable reputation and malevolent nature.

As Heeseung's hand brushes against your cheek, a reflexive flinch courses through you. "Don't be scared of me now, Baby," he says, a sly grin playing at the corners of his lips. There's a hint of amusement in his tone as he relishes the unease he elicits from you, "I'm actually enjoying your questions. Go on, hit me with another one." 

He is far too casual about this, then again, he has known of his identity forever so he has no reason to be startled.

You hesitate, unsure of what question to pose next. The revelation of Heeseung's true identity has left your mind reeling, your heart pounding in your chest, and palms sweaty. There’s no doubt he senses how your nerves are rattled, that smug look on his face says it all. 

But you need answers so you compose yourself and pull up your big girl pants.

Gathering your thoughts, you finally muster the courage to speak, swallowing the lump in your throat, “Why did Soonyeol summon you?”

His facial expression shifts from smug to something softer, a hint of fondness flickering in his eyes as he reminisces about Soonyeol and their relationship. "She called me," he begins, his voice carrying a note of nostalgia, "A young girl who couldn’t find her place in the world. All she wanted was to be lifted from her toxic family and find the serenity she needed."

"And you granted her wish?" you prompt, eager to understand the dynamics of their relationship and the extent of Heeseung's influence over Soonyeol's life.

Heeseung nods, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "I did, I gave her all of this," he confirms, his voice tinged with a mixture of pride and affection as he gestures around him, speaking of the house and the dolls which live in it, "I offered her a way out, a chance to escape her past and forge a new destiny. And in return, she granted me her loyalty, devotion, and eventually, her soul."

The discovery of Soonyeol’s past leaves you reeling, your perception of her shifting in an instant. Here you were, thinking she was all-powerful and commanding, when in reality, she was just a scared girl in her twenties. The thought of what she must have endured, what drove her to call upon a demon for help, fills you with a profound sense of empathy and compassion.

If Heeseung granted Soonyeol her deepest desires, if he offered her a way out of her suffering, then what does that say about his own motivations? After all, as a Prince of Hell, he could have chosen to do whatever he pleased. Yet, he chose to stay loyal to Soonyeol.

Then, just like that, it hits you: he must love her in some capacity. It's the only explanation for his unwavering loyalty, for his willingness to sacrifice some of his own freedom for her sake.

You breathe out softly, nodding as you agree with your mind, “You love her, don’t you? That’s why you stick around and give her anything she wants, even if that means letting herself indulge in more than just you.”

He scoffs and laughs loudly, making you jump back slightly, “Y/N, this isn’t a soppy fairytale or one of your romance novels. I’m a Prince of Hell, not Prince Charming. I’m incapable of love,” his face is bright, tittering at even the implication, “I am fond of her though, I will admit. She has a charm about her that intrigues me.”

“Then why do you stay, fondness isn’t enough to stay in this house,” you question, a little more confident now that his protective guard is down. 

He pauses, mulling over your question before responding, “I promised I would give her what she needs, and she needs me,” he explains, his voice taking on a lower, more intimate tone. As he moves closer to you, his signature smirk returns, “And I don’t break my promises, Y/N.”

You tremble a little, the lowering octave in his voice causes your knees to quake and heart to still. As Heeseung's body towers closer, you find yourself captivated by the intensity in his gaze, the allure of his enigmatic persona drawing you in like a moth to a flame. 

His menacing smirk widens as he watches your reaction, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of amusement and something deeper, something you can't quite decipher. Just being this close to him is making your body react in a way it shouldn’t, your thighs rubbing together as he looks into your eyes, seeking to find out what’s going on in your brain.

And unfortunately for you, he’s good at picking up your signals.

"What do you need, Y/N? Let me help you," he murmurs, his voice a soothing melody that resonates deep within you. You take a step back, intending to create some distance between you, but your legs betray you, colliding with the edge of the bed and sending you stumbling backwards.

Just as you brace for impact, Heeseung is there, his strong arms wrapping around you in a protective embrace. His touch is electrifying, sending a jolt of warmth through your veins as he steadies you effortlessly. "See? You can trust me," he reassures, his voice low and hypnotic as he holds you close.

His words slice through the air like a siren's call, drawing you nearer despite the warning bells in your mind. As Heeseung's eyes lock with yours, vulnerability washes over you, a desire to confide in him, to bare the depths of your desires.

“I know what you want anyway. Your soul has been calling out for it. I can hear you crying out, just like I did the others,” his grip on your waist tightens.

You stay still, pondering his words. How can he hear your soul’s desires when you’ve been grappling and searching to figure out what you want your entire life? You moved to the big city for university because you thought it was a sure cut way to achieve fulfilment, only to find unhappiness. You entered relationships yearning for love, only to hide away from the commitment when it all got too real.

In all your existence, you have never known what you want.

But he does, you can see it in his eyes, “What do I want, Heeseung?” you ask both curiously and longingly, hoping he can shed some light upon you.

“You want this life, with us,” Heeseung says matter of factly, his eyes tracing the contours of your face as the scared expression turns into one of perplexion, “Don’t you see it? How you took Soonyeol’s place so easily, falling into her role like you were born to be ours, like we were made for you.”

His words linger, thick with insinuation. You study his eyes for signs of deception, but all you see is sincerity, a profound conviction that sends shivers down your spine because deep down within you, you know it’s true too.

Ever since you set foot in this house, you've felt it - a subtle shift in the air, a stirring of something dormant within you. In the city, you lived in a tiny flat, unemployed and miserable, your only solace found in the familiar glow of your television screen as you binge-watched your favourite shows for the umpteenth time.

But here, in the mansion, it's different. Cleaning its halls and tending to the dolls and their needs, it's given you a purpose you thought you had lost along the way. Each day brings with it a renewed sense of fulfilment, a feeling of being truly alive in a way you haven't felt in years.

You want this life, you’ve fallen in love with its routine and stability, how each day you wake up and roam the halls, admiring the artwork and serenity in the echoes of your footsteps. The silence of it all makes your heart weep with joy, the boys you have come to cherish - even now, despite knowing about their supernatural entities and the mass power they hold - you love them dearly.

Heeseung, as if reading your mind, smirks and licks his lips, “You feel alive, don’t you?” He knows you do, he can see it in your eyes and the feel of your blood rushing along your veins. Mia was right when she said you were glowing all but two weeks ago. You’re radiant, like you have your own personal sun perched upon your shoulder, giving you an incandescent glow.

You’re finally happy.

“You also want one more thing,” Heeseung’s voice is a mere whisper now, his lips tantalisingly close to yours. Your pupils dilate as you lock eyes with him, his presence drawing you in as if he's reaching into the depths of your soul, rummaging around inside to pull you apart, “You’ve been craving me.”

A visceral energy electrifies every nerve ending in your body as he speaks, the expectation crackling in the air. You're standing on the verge of something exciting and new, and it feels like time has stopped still. The intensity of his stare searing into yours, the heat of his fingers against your back as he dips them up your shirt makes you shakily exhale the breath you were holding.

He rubs his beautiful, sharp nose against yours, closing his eyes as he reads further into your heart, “You feel like you’re missing out on me," he murmurs, his voice dripping with sinister undertones, because he knows he has you exactly where he wants you.

It’s embarrassing but it’s true, even if you don’t wish to admit it to yourself. You don’t want to seem ungrateful to the other three because truly they have given you everything you could ever need; but no amount of fulfilment from them can stop your aching body, wanting nothing more than to have the doll in front of you, the one who is currently holding you so tightly that you should feel trapped, yet you’ve never felt more liberated.

As his arms tighten around you, holding you in a suffocating grip, you find your voice trembling with desire and uncertainty, "You never showed any interest in me. I didn’t think you wanted me." 

A wicked grin twists across Heeseung's lips, his eyes glinting with malice as he leans down to your neck, licking a long stripe up your jugular, savouring your taste on his tongue. He can’t stop the rumble of a chuckle coming from his chest.

“Baby, you just seemed to be having such a good time with my brothers; who was I to deny them your presence?” Heeseung nips are your skin, eliciting a moan from your dry throat. The air around you both is stifling, the atmosphere heavy with want and greed because you both know what is about to happen, even if you want to stop it - which you don’t.

Heeseung’s allure is too powerful for you to deny, it’s easy to see how Soonyeol got sucked in so easily, wanting him in her life and summoning him here forever. His touch though, is another level of intoxication entirely. His large hands roam your body with a possessiveness that sends your mind reeling, drowning in a sea of exhilaration.

As you part your lips to speak, Heeseung watches you with predatory patience, knowing that whatever words escape your mouth, they will only serve to further his agenda. In this moment, you are merely a pawn in his twisted game, powerless to defy the inexorable pull of his dark charisma.

“Jongseong said you don’t like to be last,” you say, discretely questioning his reasoning for not coming into contact with you sooner.

Laughing, Heeseung shakes his head with a sinister delight. His bottom lip grazes up your chin, dragging closer until it hovers mere millimetres from your mouth, “Oh, he couldn’t be more wrong. I wanted you to experience them first and let them have some fun with you,” he presses you harshly against him, letting you feel his thick cock against your heat, causing you to whimper slightly, much to his approval.

He kisses your lips every so lightly, your instincts to chase his mouth with yours only adding to his amusement. You’re such a strong-willed girl, he knows that by how he has observed you and how long you have remained in this house despite the constant terror and unease it has bestowed upon you. So to see you utterly weak like this is fueling his desire like crazy.

You look at him, waiting for him to talk again and say anything that would give you both the green light to divulge your sins.

“I let them have you because if I got to you first,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear, and you can feel the smugness radiating from him, "You wouldn’t have even looked their fucking way."

Heat surges through you, an uncomfortable arousal that threatens to overwhelm you as you struggle to contain the torrent of desire within you. It's as if every inch of your skin is on fire, and you long to shed it all off your bones just to cool the burning sensation. The wetness between your legs is undeniable as it practically runs down your thighs.

Your heart pounds in sync with the rhythm of his kisses trailing along your neck and jawline and your hands clench at your sides, tension and lust swirling within you. If this is going to happen, it's going to happen now, forcing you to confront the question that looms over you like a dark cloud,

Are you going to fuck a Prince from Hell?

There are so many wrongs to counteract the rightness of this moment, knowing that this is territory foreign to the others you’ve laid with. They might be celestial beings but Heeseung is a God in his own right and he fucking knows it.

You can feel his amusement radiating off him as he watches you struggle with your inner thoughts, relishing in your torment as you wrestle with the pros and cons of surrendering to him completely. But amidst the chaos of your thoughts, one thing remains clear:

You want him. More than anything, you want to give in to the temptation that beckons you toward him, to lose yourself in the darkness that surrounds him. And as you meet his gaze with unwavering determination, you know that no matter the consequences, you're ready to embrace the inferno that awaits.

“So…can I ruin them for you?”

He looks at you using the triangle method and you almost physically fall to your knees, each time his eyes dart between your mouth and eyes, you feel saliva forming at the corner of your lip, lustfully loving his hooded eyes as he stares down at you. The way he assesses you, with a predatory focus that makes your heart race, leaves you feeling exposed and vulnerable.

But you want to fuck him so bad, you think you might die.

With a skip of your heart, you nod, surrendering to the inevitable. It's all the confirmation Heeseung needs and in an instant, his lips crash down on yours, a collision that would make Asmodeus jealous.

His touch is paradoxical, you can feel the roughness of his grip on your right tit, a stark contrast to the tenderness of his lips, and it only serves to heighten the intensity of the moment. It’s obvious you're not alone in your craving; Heeseung has been consumed by thoughts of you since the first moment he laid eyes on you, a primal urge driving him to mark you as his own.

And as you lose yourself in the heat of the moment, you know that there's no turning back.

"I'm gonna fucking destroy every other man for you," he growls before roughly pushing you onto the bed, the severity of which causes you whiplash. 

In urgency, Heeseung hastily works to remove your bottoms, his hands precise with anticipation, making sure he doesn’t lose another second. The fabric slides off your hips with ease, revealing the glistening wetness between your thighs and the cold air kisses your exposed cunt, making you shiver.

Heeseung's middle finger traces along your folds, collecting some of your slick arousal and spreading it with sinful precision, applying pressure on points you’re sensitive. As he teases you, his voice drips with a mixture of amusement and wicked desire.

"Your cunt is drooling over a demon, are you not embarrassed?" he taunts, his words laced with a dark edge that ignites a fierce blush on your cheeks. What’s worse is that his mockery only serves to stoke the lust within you, your hole clenching involuntarily in response.

Unfortunately for you, he notices, his chuckle knowing. "I do love a girl with no shame," he mumbles, his voice thick as he revels in the sight of your unabashed arousal.

With a predatory glint in his eyes, Heeseung wastes no time diving in, his mouth and tongue delving into your slick folds with a hunger that borders on ravenous. The sensation is overwhelming, a tidal wave of pleasure crashing over you as he explores every inch of your dripping sex with unrestrained fervour.

His movements are uninhibited, his tongue tracing erratic patterns against your sensitive nub as he seeks to consume you entirely. Each wet, sloppy lick and suck sends sparks of ecstasy shooting through your body, building the tension to an almost unbearable peak.

In the throes of pleasure, your instinctive reach to grab Heeseung's hair proves to be your first mistake. Before your fingers can even brush against his roots, he retaliates with a harsh bite on your clit, causing you to recoil with a cry, tears welling in your eyes.

“I didn’t say you could touch me, did I?” he warns, his mouth still wet with your juices as he looks up at you with a mix of dominance and satisfaction.

The memory of your first encounter with Jongseong floods your mind, the way he punished you for your disobedience is still vivid in your memory. It was meant to deter you from acting out, and in his case, it did. But now, with Heeseung, the desire to be reprimanded once again ignites within you, a need that demands satisfaction. 

Jongseong awakened something inside of you, a craving for submission and punishment that you never knew existed. And now, with Heeseung, you yearn to explore it on a new level, one that a sweet angel like Jongseong is too kind to deliver. 

It’s exciting and foolish all at once.

Gently, you run your hands through his hair, feeling the texture of it between your fingers as you grasp at his roots. 

Heeseung's reaction is immediate, his body tensing at your touch even as a low growl rumbles in his chest. But instead of pulling away, he leans into your touch, his tough facade cracking ever so slightly as a faint tremor runs through him. It's a fleeting moment of vulnerability, a crack in the armour he wears so proudly.

For a brief instant, you glimpse the man behind the Prince of Hell, a creature of darkness with desires and needs of his own. You ponder if this is what Soonyeol gives him, if that is why he is so reluctant to enjoy your comforting touch.

But before you can think much more about it, he reacts with swift brutality, sinking his teeth harshly down on your clit once more. The pain is searing, a sharp shock that tears a cry of both pain and pleasure from your lips. It's a punishment, yes, but one that you oh so desperately want.

His teeth sink in with immense force that causes you so much pain you try to escape, kicking your legs to scramble from him. But that only makes things worse as he grips your thighs with might to hold you in place, bruises and indents already forming under his nails. He adds a cruel twist, pulling at your bug sharply, causing your hips to rise instinctively towards his mouth in a futile attempt to ease the agony.

But Heeseung isn't fooled by your subtle movements. He catches on quickly, his grip tightening on your clit before he roughly pushes you down onto the bed, his palm pressing forcefully into your stomach to keep you in place.

"Don't make me rip it off," he growls, his eyes blazing with a volatile mix of anger and lust. It's a warning laced with danger, a reminder of the power he wields over you, “You’re so good for Jongseong, his…what did he call you? his ‘good little girl’, was that it?” he asks you with a condescending tone.

How did he know about that?

Your eyes widen and he idly rubs your pussy painfully slowly, sighing out loud with over-exaggeration, his eyes twinkling with mischief. Heeseung's knowledge of your intimate dynamics with Jongseong sends a shiver down your spine. His fingers, though moving torturously slowly, ignite sensations that both excite and terrify you. 

“What? You thought you could call upon the entirety of Hell and word wouldn’t get back to me?”

That night when Jongseong set your underwear ablaze and used your essence as a way to reach the pits below you. They heard it all; your whimpering and moaning for the angel, how you begged him to fuck you, and how he called you his good girl.

Which means Heeseung heard it all…

Spitting on your pussy, he licks it back up, the white foam sitting on his tongue as he draws it back into his mouth slowly. It’s another way of torturing you, of giving you a piece of him while just as quickly taking it away.

“If you can be a good girl for him, why aren’t you being one for me?” Heeseung's faux pout and slumped shoulders mask the dominance in his tone. With each flick of his finger, he revives the pain back onto your rose, denying you any reprieve.

You whimper with each taunt, wishing he would just go back to sucking your clit, to lick the wounds he created - but this is what you get when you play with fire.

Breathing out slowly, you nod, relenting your notion to be punished…for now.

“I’m sorry, I’ll be good,” you say sorrowfully, thrusting your clit up as you serve yourself to him on a plate.

Heeseung pauses, his expression shifting as he considers your apology. For a moment, it seems as though he might relent, his features softening with the faintest hint of hesitation. But then, with a wicked glint in his eyes, he shakes his head slowly.

"You know," he muses, his voice dripping with amusement, "I've always had a preference for bad girls." You almost moan out loud, the way his voice changed gear from one of anger to one so sultry you can forecast rain for the next two days.

He kisses your clit softly and slowly with his petal-soft lips. The lewd sounds of his mouth combined with your wetness elicit tiny whines from your lips, creating a symphony of want and distress. It's an ennui unlike any other you've ever known, a dizzying combination of pleasure and agony that leaves you wanting more.

Heeseung's lips dip lower, leaving a trail of fire in their wake as he explores every inch of your quivering flesh. He revels in the power he holds over you, relishing in the way your body responds to his touch.

"You want more, don’t you?" Heeseung's voice is a low murmur against your skin as he continues his tormenting actions. Each kiss, each caress sends ripples of sensation through you, building the tension to unbearable heights.

Before you can render yourself to say anything, he delves back in, his tongue now swirling in your hole, like he’s digging for treasure. You grasp desperately at the sheets beneath you, your nails digging into the fabric as you surrender yourself to the overwhelming ecstasy of his touch. 

What doesn’t help is when you look down at him and see him smirking up at you, rubbing his nose against your clit. It’s enough to make your eyes roll back and your legs seize up.

“Oh god, Heeseung..." you moan, the words escaping your lips in a breathless whisper as pleasure washes over you in waves.

He draws back, his eyes ablaze with raw desire, "That's right, baby," he growls, his voice dripping with dominance. "I am your God now."

As you close your eyes, you suddenly feel two of his fingers delving into you, the sensation causing your back to arch, thus, pushing your heat further into his face. Everything you are experiencing right now is so overwhelming, there is no let-up and you think this is both the most painful and best you have ever felt.

Heeseung’s concentration is solely on you cumming undone, wanting only to see your face when you are overcome with bliss. He has had to spend 6 weeks or so listening to his brothers talk about how beautiful and ethereal you look as the whites of your eyes take over; now it’s his turn.

Curling his fingers inside you, he beckons your orgasm forward, pushing against the spongy flesh of your walls, his middle digit hitting deliciously against a soft spot while he flicks his tongue over your bud. You wriggle beneath him, soft moans escaping your lips as you feel your tummy coil.

Heeseung's efforts are rewarded as your body responds to his touch, pleasure building to a crescendo until it explodes within you. With a crying scream, you call out his name, your thighs instinctively clamping around his head as you ride the waves of ecstasy crashing over you.

Your body arches, seeking both escape from his relentless touch and yet craving more of the intoxicating sensation he provides. In that moment of release, you are utterly and completely lost to him, surrendering yourself to the overwhelming pleasure he elicits from you.

Out of every orgasm you’ve had, this is the one that has rendered you completely dumb, incapable of doing anything more than panting and twitching.

But Heeseung doesn't grant you a moment to catch your breath. Even as your body shudders with the aftershocks of your climax, he commands you, his voice laced with authority. "Sit up," he orders, his tone brooking no argument as he guides you into a sitting position, his hand gripped tight in your hair as he yanks you forward. The air crackles with anticipation as you have no choice but to comply, “Strip me, baby.”

Without a second thought, you mindlessly rise to your feet, your fingers fumbling eagerly with the hem of Heeseung's loose white t-shirt. In one swift motion, you pull it over his head and toss it aside, your gaze hungrily tracing the contours of his bare chest. You want nothing more than to touch him, to caress his delicate skin with your hands, but you’re scared it’ll temper him into ripping all of this away from you.

Returning to sit on the bed with renewed enthusiasm, you focus your attention on his baggy grey joggers, swiftly untying the strings and pulling them down to reveal his naked form beneath. Your breath catches in your throat at the sight of his arousal, his impressive length standing semi-hard before you.

Without hesitation, you reach out and grasp his cock, feeling the heat of his faux skin beneath your fingertips. With a sense of urgency, you press your lips to his flushed tip, desperate to taste him before he can deny you the pleasure.

You lick at his shaft like he’s a frozen popsicle on a swarming hot summer day, your need driving your hurry as you coat him in saliva. The more you lick, the harder he gets and his throat has to hold back groans.

Heeseung's initial instinct is to reprimand you for your boldness, for daring to take control in such a way, but unlike Jongseong, he has little self-control, the pleasure he’s feeling as your mouth envelopes him fully is more than enough cause to let you continue. 

As his mouth relaxes and his eyes screw shut, you take advantage of the opportunity to explore him further, dropping your head to focus on his balls. The sensation is amazing, sending pleasure-filled sparks through his body as he surrenders part of himself to you. 

You’re so drunk on his cock right now that you don’t even care how desperate you look, you just need him in every way possible. If he asked, you would probably fuck him in his demon form;  as long as you could taste him on your tongue, that is all that matters.

Heeseung pushes your head back abruptly, his fingernails digging deep into your scalp, causing a disgruntled whine to fall from your mouth. 

The throbbing between your legs beats loudly in your eardrums as you look up and see his eyes, that same red flickering behind his pupils except this time, they swirl with a deep black cloud. You can tell he’s aching to be released from the confines of the doll suit, to break free and absolutely devour you in his true form. 

You should feel scared, petrified even, yet you only long for him more.

“You’ll never make it to heaven with a tongue like that, Baby.” 

His words, spoken with a hint of warning, only serve to fuel the fire burning within you, "What makes you think I want to go to heaven?" you retort, your voice dripping with desire and defiance.

With a sly smirk, Heeseung leans in closer, sending shivers down your spine, "Maybe you prefer the flames of hell," he murmurs, his tone laced with dark promise, "And I'll be more than happy to escort you there myself."

Heeseung's hand grips your hair with a firmness that borders on possessive. He then thrusts his cock into your mouth with commanding force, the sudden intrusion eliciting a gasp of surprise from you, causing you to choke slightly.

But that doesn’t stop him, instead, he just continues to batter your throat with his length brutally, each punch of his hips only further bruising your oesophagus. Tears well up in your eyes as you struggle to breathe. Yet, why do you love it? The feeling of your world almost going black, the way your body tightens around nothing but the desire to breathe, it’s deadly but you couldn’t be more alive.

Feeling you splurt out tiny breathes around his dick as you gasp for air, Heeseung pulls your head back, letting oxygen breathe back into your lungs.

He takes the moment to admire you; your hair tousled in his hands, your mascara smudging slightly around your eyes, and the spit mixed with some beads of his precum sliding slowly down your chin. You’re angelic, demonic, and everything he could ever want right now.

You’re so horny that not having his cock filling up one of your holes is leaving you whimpering, tears forming in your eyes - not from pain but need. You need to feel him in some way, you are starving for him, and one more second without tasting him might send you into madness.

And Heeseung knows it, he can hear your greatest, deepest desires after all. The thought of you under his spell without him using a single persuasive tactic is euphoric to him. Through the years, Soonyeol has grown accustomed to him, expecting his demanding nature but never truly worshipping him the way he wants; not the way you are right now.

This might only be for tonight but he will try and make it last an eternity.

Huffing out in frustration, you grow tired of waiting for Heeseung to make his move, opting instead to brush your face across his throbbing cock. The sensation of his velvety shaft against your cheeks is phenomenal, the need for contact driving you to this demoralising state. 

Closing your eyes, you relish in the tactile sensation, savouring the moment of intimacy as you slap his cock against your cheek and mouth. The hunger within you demands satisfaction, and you're willing to take whatever scraps of pleasure you can get, even if it's just the simple touch of his arousal against your skin.

“You’re so fucking filthy, baby,” he growls, his eyes blown in ecstasy while he watches you lather yourself with his member, “Are you that much of a cockslut?”

Absentmindedly you nod, owning up to the degrading nickname because, at the end of the day, that is exactly what you are right now; a cockslut, an ever-needing, desperate cockslut for none other than the high-ranking Prince of Hell.

Nudging your nose with his tip, you beg him like a dog to let go of your hair and stuff your mouth full once again. The mewls leaving your mouth flood Heeseung’s ears and he understands that you’re too far gone to form a sentence, so he grants your wish and shoves himself back into you.

His hips buck forward with a fierce urgency that sends your head shaking with each forceful thrust. The intensity of his movements makes your eyes roll back, driving you deeper into a state of arousal as you struggle to keep up with his rhythm.

But with your mouth full, your pussy is feeling dangerously left out, your entire heat seeking some form of release. Without realising it, you start to hump the air, moving your hips as though you were grinding on his cock.

Heeseung's movements falter for a moment as he notices your struggle to find complete pleasure. With a low grow, he halts his thrusts, his gaze intense as he takes in your flushed cheeks and heaving chest.

“Look at you,” he points out, shaking his head in feigned disbelief, watching as your juices leak out your cunt, staining his sheets a darker shade.

Smirking, he places his foot on the edge of the bed, pressing ever so lightly onto your dripping heat. You gasp and pop off his cock, looking down as you see your way to much-needed relief. Heeseung steps on you roughly, offering you a sturdy anchor which you eagerly accept. Despite the pain as the ball of his foot presses against your clit, you push your body against it, relishing in the firmness of his sole against your skin; you’ll take any relief you can get.

Every movement sends a surge of electric pleasure coursing through you, the friction between your bodies. You grind against him with increasing intensity, your hips undulating in perfect rhythm with his foot as you chase after the elusive peak of ecstasy.

“Keep sucking it or I’ll take it away,” he warns, tapping his cock on your gaped mouth

The chilling warning from Heeseung serves as a reminder of the balance between pleasure and punishment. Taking his cock back into your mouth with newfound vitality, you return to your task with a sense of urgency. The taste of him is intoxicating, fueling your urge to please him and avoid the consequences of disobedience. You do not want him to take anything away from you.

He moves in tandem with your hips, bringing you closer and closer to the edge as you fuck yourself shamelessly on his foot as if you were a wanton whore in heat. Your hands gripping his leg for more leverage, seeking another release as fast as possible.

Humming around his length in a high-pitched cry, you climax violently, your impulse to thrust forward only shoving his cock farther into your throat, stretching it wide in ways you don't believe is humanly possible. 

"Fuck-" Heeseung groans, the sound raw as he releases his thick ropes of cum down your throat, your climax setting off a chain reaction. His mouth hangs wide open as his throbbing shaft finds home in your canal, his eyebrows furrowed together as he loses himself. He can’t help but think what your perfect little pussy feels like as you cum, how it would squeeze him tighter than your throat can.

You are swimming in a pool of pure fire as you lose yourself to the engulfing of pleasure, riding his foot through your climax while swallowing his seed. This is a feeling you will never experience with any other man and you know now what he meant when he said you would never have looked at the others if he had his way with you first.

When both of your minds clear and your lungs are screaming out for oxygen, you pop off his cock, giving it an adoring kiss as a thank you for what has just happened and what it is about to do to you.

Looking down at you, Heeseung marvels at your display of gratitude, wishing every human was as worshipful. 

“I’d love to rip that soul from your body and stuff you in a doll suit so I can fuck you forever.”

His admission catches you both off guard, the silence of the afternoon lying dormant around the room. Did he mean that? Did he want to take your soul and keep you? It’s plausible considering his history but to hear it being said about you makes your blood run cold.

But at this moment, if he asked you to let him in and take you, you might just let him - or maybe it was the emptiness of your cunt that was talking.

“I don’t need to be a doll to fuck until the moon shines and the sunrises,” you whisper, your lust completely taking over your body. The once timid and unsure version of yourself has faded into oblivion, replaced by someone bold, relentless, and consumed by the craving to be stuffed with his cock.

He audibly groans, hearing how keen you are for him to devour you, not even put off by his threatening admission just moments earlier. Rolling his eyes to the back of his head and shaking his thoughts, Heeseung lifts your chin and pulls on your bottom lip, staring at you as he figures out exactly how he wants you. He swipes his tongue along the corner of his mouth, “I’m going to hold you to that, baby. Get on all fours,” he instructs.

Doing as he says, you turn around and drop to your hands and knees, offering yourself up to him as your heart pounds in your chest in exhilaration. You wiggle your ass a bit, hoping he'll take the hint and dive in, fucking you as hard and fast as he so wishes. 

Your ass is so perfect and plump he can’t help but grab at it, using his strong hands to knead your cheeks, pressing and pulling them apart as he takes quick glances at both of your holes. He wishes he had two cocks just to utterly destroy you with, each of your entrances filled with him as he pounds into you. Unfortunately, he only has one right now and he knows it’s your cunt that needs him the most, so he’ll save that idea for another time.

Grasping his cock, he slides it up and down your ass, shallowly tapping it to get him hard again, but with the way you’re already grasping the sheets in anticipation and your cunt is soaked with need, it doesn’t take him long. Heeseung strokes himself a couple of times before resting his tip at your gaping heat, the bell turning rosé as it pushes just slightly into you.

It's agonising, the way he waits there as though he's not equally consumed by the thought of rocking your world. He's deliberately drawing it out, savouring the anticipation, revelling in the sweet sound of your pleas, knowing that your cries for him are his ultimate desire fulfilled.

"Please, Heeseung," you whimper, arching your body towards him, desperate for the connection, but he always stays just out of reach, teasingly withholding what you crave.

You groan in frustration, your need for him becoming almost unbearable. He's in control, and you can't help but revel in the way he toys with you, pushing you to the brink of madness with his tantalising touch.

But there is only so much a girl can take, so with a resolute sparkle in your eyes, you make it clear that you will not be denied any longer. Ignoring his playful taunting, you reach between your bodies and direct his hardness to the entrance of your smooth heat. Swiftly, you impale yourself on him, a moan escaping your lips as you take him deep inside.

Heeseung's eyes widen in surprise, momentarily stunned by your boldness, but it's only for a minute before a wicked grin spreads across his face. You are so much more than he could have ever imagined.

Slapping your ass harshly, he hopes to still you but it only makes you rock onto him faster. You set a punishing pace, riding him with abandon, lost in the ecstasy of finally having him where you want him. 

Again, he crashes his hand painfully against your cheek but you won’t stop, you can’t, his dick is so delicious as it sucks into your cunt. Rapidly, he hits you, one, two, three, four, all in quick strikes and all you can do is clench your pussy around him and moan, picking up your pace.

“I can’t even punish you because you love it,” he notes, leaning back to observe you in awe, loving how your body is starting to flush with sweat as you work overtime to take what you need from him. 

“Fuck I wish you could see how pathetic you look right now.”

Gripping the sheets beneath you, your knuckles turn white as your chest tightens. The angle of his cock is hitting you so deliciously that you can’t even breathe properly or register a word he’s saying. All you heard was ‘pathetic’ and you agree with him because that’s how you’re backing yourself onto his long shaft.

Heeseung watches you in amazement, his own desire growing as he observes your relentless determination. "You love it, don't you?" he remarks, his voice laced with true admiration. He lets you have a few more moments of fun, clasping his hands at the back of his neck and pulling down, watching you with dangerous eyes. With the way your walls are closing in, he knows you’re close. “Tell me you love my cock.”

You nod, burying your face into the sheets as your coil threatens to snap, the harsh rhythm you set for yourself is faltering slightly as you reach your next climax. But when you don’t answer him and stroke his ego, it snaps Heeseung back into his domineering state. 

Roughly bunching up your hair, he pulls your face from the bed and leans into your ear, his chest laid flat against your back, “Fucking answer me when I speak to you. Tell me you fucking love it,” he growls out his demands, ripping some of your hair from their roots.

Your breath catches in your throat as his grip tightens, a mixture of pain and pleasure coursing through you. With a whimper, you finally concede, unable to resist his commanding presence any longer. "I love it," you gasp, your voice strained with need as you surrender to his dominance. "I love your cock so fucking much!"

A satisfied smirk spreads across Heeseung's lips as he releases your hair, his fingers trailing down your spine in a possessive caress, "That's what I thought," he murmurs, his voice sneering before pushing your head into the mattress.

From that moment on, the dynamic shifts entirely. Heeseung takes control with ruthless determination, smothering your face into the softness of the bedsheets. His strength overwhelms you as he holds you firmly in place, your features pressed into the fabric until you know you'll emerge from this session with a pounding headache.

Your muffled protests are lost in the sheets as Heeseung continues to assert his dominance, his grip unyielding. He piledrives into you, his foot now on the edge of the bed to give him more stability. His skin is furiously slapping against yours as he takes you brutally from behind.

"You wanted this, remember? Now, let me show you who's in charge."

Releasing your head, Heeseung grants you a moment to gulp in air, your chest heaving as you crave the sweet relief of oxygen. But his attention swiftly shifts, his hands now gripping your hips with a firmness that promises bruises, yet you welcome it eagerly. With each powerful thrust, he plunges deeper into you, his sizable cock filling you to the brim with each relentless motion.

With hunger burning in his eyes, Heeseung unleashes his pent-up desire upon you, each thrust a savage declaration of his dominance. The weight of his body presses you into the mattress, his strength undeniable as he takes complete control.

His fingers dig into the soft flesh of your hips, leaving faint crescent-shaped marks in their wake, tangible evidence of his possession. Every time he thrusts, he claims you anew, his relentless rhythm driving you to the edge of sanity and pleasure.

The sound of your mingled moans fills the air, a symphony of ecstasy and pain as he pushes you to the brink and pulls you back again. Your senses are overwhelmed by the scent of sweat and sex, the slick friction of your bodies moving together in perfect synchrony. 

You’ve got a pussy that could even make demons pray, Heeseung thinks to himself. He could watch you all day, how your cunt swallows him like its sole purpose was to please his cock. But as much as he likes the shape of your body as he takes you from behind, he longs to see that pretty face of yours when you cum.

Heeseung flips you onto your back, pinning you beneath him as he continues to ravish you with unrestrained passion, his hands pressing hard on your waist. Your head spins as the world shifts, your back now pressed firmly against the mattress, every inch of your skin tingling with anticipation.

His eyes fixate on your bouncing tits, a wolfish grin spreading across his lips as he watches them with rapt attention. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, instinct taking over as he becomes entranced by the sight of your pretty mounds. 

"You're so fucking gorgeous,” his voice husky with desire as he reaches out to caress your soft skin, his touch setting your nerves ablaze with longing. He seems so gentle right now, like the demon inside him has subsided. You cherish the tiny glimpses of his vulnerability, knowing they come few and far between.

The tender moment doesn’t last long though as he quickens his pace once more, the bed beneath you squeaking and whimpering along with you. 

Suddenly, his hand finds its way between your legs, his fingers deftly seeking out your clit. A sharp gasp escapes your lips as pleasure shoots through you, but before you can protest, his touch becomes too much, too overwhelming.

"It's too much," you whimper, trying to push his hand away, but he only presses harder, his grip unyielding. "Please, Heeseung, it's too-"

"Shut up," he interrupts, his voice firm and devilish as he continues to play with you, driving you closer to the edge with each relentless stroke. "You love it, and you know it."

And you do, you love it so much more than you can even describe. Your body stiffens as you feel yourself about to experience your nth orgasm. Honestly, you’ve lost track of how many it is now, the whole night blending into one big bout of pleasure.

You arch your back as his bell strokes right along your soft spot, causing a wave of ecstasy to wash over you, your mouth opens as you let out an earth-shattering cry, “Holy fuck, Heeseung!” 

But he shows no signs of slowing down, his movements becoming even more relentless as he drives you closer and closer to the edge. And then, with a primal roar, you feel it - the sudden, intense release as pleasure explodes within you, shooting through your body like a bolt of lightning.

Heeseung thinks, no, he knows this is what heaven looks like, it has to be; the way your body opens up as wide as it can go, laying yourself bare like this while chanting a ritual of profanities. You look like you’re being exorcised and it’s so fucking hot to him.

What he takes a minute to notice though, is how his stomach and arm are being covered in your release, pouring out of you so perfectly as you bathe him in your essence. You’re squirting for him. 

Smirking, he doesn’t let up the flicks to your clit or the pointed thrusts into your pussy, he wants to see how long this can last.

As you thrash beneath him, Heeseung lifts your hips higher with his left arm, driving into you with even greater force, his movements relentless as he seeks to elicit every last drop of pleasure from you. With each thrust, your juices flow even more freely, coating him in a slick sheen of your arousal.

"Holy hell, Baby," he breathes, a smirk playing on his lips as he watches you squirm beneath him. "Look at you baptising me."

He chuckles to himself, the sound a mix of amusement and arousal as he revels in the sensation of being drenched in your ecstasy. If this was the holy water people spoke about, he might just turn up to church every Sunday.

The tears falling from your eyes at the overstimulation tell him it’s time to drive it home, to finally let go and satisfy his own needs once again. Slowly, he shifts his weight, positioning himself for the final act of surrender. With each deliberate movement, he inches closer to the edge, his desire burning fiercely as he prepares to claim what is rightfully his.

Entering you once more, he relishes in the sensation of your heat enveloping him, drawing him deeper into the abyss of pleasure. Each thrust brings him closer to the brink, his senses ablaze, and just like that, he is cumming inside of you, shooting ropes of his white seed deep into your womb.

You open your eyes to catch a glimpse of him, unable to get a good visual last time with his cock stuffed deep into your throat. You expect to see his vulnerability as with climaxes comes a complete lack of control, but you see something far different to your imagination.

His eyes are clouded with red, like he’s rolling his pupils so far back that you’re looking straight into his demon entity, like you can see the Prince of Hell in his true form. In some sick way, you don’t think he has looked more beautiful. He moans loudly but his voice is deeper, more threatening than usual, yet you find yourself reaching for his face, his allure drawing you in further than ever before.

His aura is dark and cloying, yet there's a slight change within him the second your fingertips brush his face. As if your touch can soothe the storm within him, the whirling black and crimson cloud that envelops him appears to diminish. He closes his eyes as he gives in to the calming effect of your touch.

Never before in his life has he met someone who could have such an effect on him. Although he is in control at this very moment, he is well aware that your power could render him defenceless with just a single gesture.

Guiding him, you pull his face down to you as you kiss him softly, breathing your life into him gently which he gladly accepts. As the kiss deepens, he shifts you gently, urging you to rest your head on his pillow, eliciting a soft sigh from you as you comply, sinking into the comfort of the mattress beneath you. He continues to explore your lips with a playful urgency, teasing you as you chase his elusive kisses.

“Heeseung-” you whine out but it barely makes audio waves as the fucking your throat received and the screams that ripped from your chest make it hard to talk.

Bringing his hand up to your throat, he applies gentle pressure, his touch like a soothing balm against the burning sensation. With each stroke of his fingers, the tension in your voice box begins to ease, the discomfort gradually fading away beneath his tender ministrations.

Heeseung meets your gaze with a fond intensity, sliding his cock out slowly as he shifts his body to create a space for you to lay your head on his chest. His arms wrap securely around you and he cradles you close, the steady rhythm of your heartbeat returning. 

"If you want this life," he starts, his stare fixed on you, "Let me give it to you." He promises you the future your spirit so desperately desires with a voice that is both powerful and supple, promising support and unfaltering devotion.

There's a part of you that yearns to leap up and accept, drawn to the allure of the life he promises. Yet, you can hear a distant warning of whispers in the recesses of your mind, reminding you of the consequences of such a choice. You can't ignore the lessons learned from Soonyeol's fate, knowing that trading one form of captivity for another may not be the answer. She is happy right now but for how long could she possibly stay that way?

"Y/N?" Jaeyun's voice breaks through the haze, its urgency slicing through the intimate moment with Heeseung. It reverberates down the halls, each bounce signalling his approach, yet the vastness of the mansion keeps him at a distance, prolonging the inevitable interruption.

You tear yourself away from Heeseung’s grip, sitting up as you dare not to look at him, “I can’t have this life, Heeseung. This belongs to Soonyeol.”

As you move to get up and dress, Heeseung grips your face, forcing you to meet his gaze. His eyes bore into yours, studying you with an intensity that leaves your soul feeling exposed, laid bare before him.

"Say the word and she's gone, baby," he murmurs, his voice low and determined. The fondness and devotion he once held for his minder seem to fade into the background as he tries to persuade you to stay.

Your eyes widen in disbelief at his implication; how could he suggest getting rid of Soonyeol so easily, especially someone who gave their soul to him? While he may believe it's what you want to hear, his words only serve to deepen your doubts about his loyalty and commitment. If he can toss her aside, how quickly will it take him to move on from you?

Pulling his hand from your face, you hold it against your chest, “You told me you don’t break your promises, Heeseung,” you gently confront him. Yet, as you look into his eyes, you see sincerity within them, making you question whether he means his words to you.

“Y/N? Where are you?” Jaeyun shouts once again, panic in his vocals.

“Let me give you your desires,” Heeseung’s lips upturn as he watches your brain fight itself between yielding and defying your urges.

“Y/N? Can you answer me?”

“Come on, Y/N, say it. Tell me you want this.”

“Please answer me!”

Your body instinctively leans into Heeseung's touch, drawn in by the intensity of his gaze as he strokes your cheek with a gentle caress. It's as if you're caught in a trance, captivated by the magnetic pull of his presence.

But even as you feel yourself slipping under his spell, the echo of Jaeyun's pleas reverberates in your mind and with a jolt, you force yourself to pull away from the Prince's enchanting hold, breaking free from the spell he's woven around you.

“I don’t want this,” you push Heeseung away, your heart beating quickly as you realise what you have almost done, the distance from his touch giving you a sense of clarity, dispelling the fog of desire that clouded your judgement. “This is Soonyeol’s life, not mine. I won’t trade in one hell for another.”

Heeseung's eyes flash with anger for a fleeting moment, a storm brewing behind his gaze. But just as quickly as it comes, he reigns in his emotions, the tempest within him subsiding as he regains his composure. 

“Fine. Don’t stay. But let me make these two weeks you have left count,” his signature smug expression returns as though you hadn’t seen the soul behind the demon a mere 10 minutes ago.

_____

Packing your bag, a heavy weight settles over you, dragging you down as you come to terms with the reality that this is the end. Two months of fear, lust, adoration, and anxiety swirl together in a tumultuous cocktail of emotions, each one vying for dominance as you prepare to bid farewell to it all.

With each item you place into your bag, it’s as if you’re emptying a foreign version of yourself. You know when you go home you’ll wear these same clothes and brush your hair with the same bristles, but it won’t be you anymore.

Maybe you should have taken Heeseung up on his offer.

Or perhaps this is the start of a new chapter for you. This new identity you feel surging inside your veins might help you navigate the big bad world a little easier. 

Feeling a pair of arms encircle you from behind, you instinctively lean into Jaeyun's embrace, his presence offering a sense of solace amidst the uncertainty. His chin rests on your shoulder, his nose tickling the skin of your neck as he nuzzles closer, seeking comfort in your embrace.

"Please don't go, Y/N. I need you," he whispers, his voice trembling with emotion. The vulnerability in his words pierces through your own turmoil, reminding you of the depth of his feelings and the pain of letting go.

At that moment, as you stand entwined together, you both understand the weight of the connection that binds you. It's more than just the physical intimacy you've shared; it's a bond forged throughout your two months here. Everyone can see it, feel it - the undeniable truth that your relationship transcends mere physical attraction.

But you need to let him go.

"You don't need me, Baby doll," you murmur softly, your voice tinged with resignation. "You've got Soonyeol. She will look after you just like before."

As the words leave your lips, a sorrowful cloud settles over you, the reality of your impending departure sinking in. Despite the pain of leaving Jaeyun behind, you find solace in the knowledge that he won't be alone, that someone will be there to care for him in your absence.

But even as you try to reassure him, a part of you can't shake the feeling of loss that grips your heart. Though Soonyeol may provide comfort and support, you know that your absence will leave a void that can't be easily filled.

Sunghoon hugs you both from the side, his sudden presence a comfort. Even after you discovered that he was a demon, you knew deep down he wasn’t a terrible soul, he was just trapped in bad circumstances, forced to live a life he hated. There is evil within him, that much is true, but he wouldn’t use it haphazardly or indiscriminately.

“I’ll miss you too, baby girl. More than I think I’d like to admit,” he confesses, squeezing you and Jaeyun tight in his arms.

“Y/N, can I speak to you for a moment?” Jongseong’s voice rings loud in your temporary room, causing you and your boys to break apart. Tenderly kissing each of them goodbye, they gracefully exit the room, leaving you alone with Jongseong, granting you both the privacy needed for your conversation.

"What's up? Gonna miss me?" you tease, playfully punching Jongseong's shoulder.

Jongseong chuckles, a hint of sadness in his eyes as he nods. "More than you'll know...but I need to tell you something."

The playful banter fades away, replaced by a solemn atmosphere that settles between you. The air grows heavy with anticipation as you wait for Jongseong to speak, sensing that whatever he has to say is of great importance.

Taking a deep breath, Jongseong meets your gaze with a mix of concern and determination. "Y/N, I need you to do something for me," he begins, his voice steady despite the weight of his request.

"What is it?" you inquire, your curiosity piqued by the seriousness in his tone.

Jongseong hesitates for a moment before speaking, his words measured and deliberate. "I need you to talk to Heeseung," he says, his expression earnest, "Ask him to untether Jaeyun from Soonyeol."

“What? Why?”

“Heeseung told you Jaeyun’s story, right? How he was supposed to be a guardian?” Jongseong's eyebrows raise expectantly, his gaze searching your face for understanding. Slowly, you nod, though confusion clouds your features. Sighing, Jongseong clasps his hands together as he continues, “I think…somehow…he is supposed to be your guide, your guardian angel.”

Jaeyun? Your guardian angel? A mighty laugh leaves your lips as you think he’s pulling some sick joke, but he is not laughing, not even a hint of mischief playing around on his expression. He is deadly serious here.

“Wait…what? But aren’t guardian angels assigned at like, birth or something?” you question, not wrapping your mind around the idea just yet. 

Jongseong nods thoughtfully, his expression grave. "Yes, traditionally, that's how it works," he replies, his tone tinged with uncertainty, "But sometimes, fate has a way of... rearranging things. Guardian angels can also be soulmates in the realm of living.”

You lean back, trying to process this new information. "So, you’re now telling me that Jaeyun is my soulmate? So which is he?"

“Well, when he died it was sudden and tragic, no one saw it coming. It wasn’t planned the way God intended and that day you lost your soulmate. But you were meant to gain your angel that day…until Heeseung pulled him away.”

The weight of Jongseong's words hangs heavily in the air, sinking deep into your consciousness. A sense of disbelief washes over you as you try to comprehend the implications of his revelation. Jaeyun, your soulmate? The idea seems both surreal and profound, challenging everything you thought you knew about love and destiny.

There is no denying the connection you have but it all seems more outlandish than the library having a fire telephone to ring hell up and have a gab.

Jongseong feels your body overcoming with contemplation and questioning his words, so he jumps in. “All the signs are there, Princess. The connection you both have, how you can feel one another's emotions, Jaeyun has even been telling me he feels like there is a string pulling him to you.”

“A string?”

"Mhm, It is what binds a guardian angel to their human, and when you leave, it will shatter, just like your heart, and you will both be in such agony that it will swallow you whole," he says solemnly, his voice tinted with his personal experiences, "Trust me, I know it better than anyone."

Jongseong and Soonyeol…their string must have been broken once he was banished from being her guide. As you look at the sadness etched across his face, you know you never want to experience the pain they both must have felt.

“I don’t want to let him go, but he belongs here with Soonyeol. Heeseung told me how she needed him too,” you whisper, your voice barely above a murmur as you confess your inner anguish.

He feels your pain and inwardly cries for you. Gently, he uses two of his fingers to lift your chin, his eyes boring into yours as he pleads with you. “YOU need him, Sweetheart, just like he needs you. Please, grant me permission to speak to Heeseung on your behalf, I’ll sort something out with him, okay?”

His words resonate deep within you, stirring a sense of hope amidst the despair. Maybe Jongseong could convince Heeseung somehow. Perhaps your time spent with Heeseung over the past two weeks would count for something. After all, there had been moments of connection and understanding between you, moments that hinted at a deeper bond than he would probably like to admit.

But then doubt creeps in. Would Heeseung truly consider your feelings in his decision? Or would he give you the same ultimatum he had given before - stay and he would rid this house and the boys of Soonyeol, without a second thought?

You suppose you have to try, right?

“Talk to him, but only if Jaeyun wants to, this is his decision too.”

_____

As the sound of Soonyeol’s car driving up the gravel path reaches your ears, it feels like her tyres are rolling over your heart. Standing with your bags packed, you glance at the boys, each of them sitting in their dining room seats, ready to take on their doll personas once again. Each of their gazes says something different, but sorrow is evident.

“I’ll miss you guys,” you pout, unable to suppress the sadness that tugs at your heartstrings. Fiddling with the hem of your t-shirt, you try to mask the ache of impending departure with a feeble attempt at a smile. But the weight of the moment looms, casting a shadow over the room as you prepare to say goodbye to the home and the family you've come to cherish.

“We’ll miss you too, baby girl,” Sunghoon smiles softly, his hand reaching out to grasp yours one last time, a silent reassurance amidst the impending farewell.

Jaeyun's expression is heavy with heartache, his eyes pleading with you to stay, but you can't bear to meet his gaze. You know that Jongseong's talk with Heeseung didn't go as hoped, and the disappointment hangs thick in the air, making your departure that much more difficult.

Suddenly, Jaeyun stands up, his movements swift as he storms over to you. Without a word, he pulls you into a passionate kiss, his hands cradling your cheeks as he pours all his love and longing into the embrace. In that fleeting moment, time seems to stand still, the world falling away as you lose yourself in the warmth of his touch, savouring the taste of his lips against yours.

You hug him tightly, forcing the lump in your throat to retreat back to your stomach, cherishing this last moment.

“Jaeyun, get back in your seat, Soonyeol will be here any minute,” Heeseung warns, his voice pulling you both from your moment. 

As Jaeyun's lips leave yours, the air between you crackles with unspoken emotions. His stare is intense, searching yours for any way he can stay with you. But you can only offer him a small, sad smile, knowing that your time together is slipping away with each passing second.

The thing that hurts the most is that Jaeyun has no clue that he is your soulmate or was supposed to be your guardian angel, he just thinks he’s losing your love when in fact, he’s losing part of his soul that you’ll take with you.

“I gave you my number, yeah? Give me a call anytime you can,” you mutter into his lips, finally stepping back to let him go back to the life he knows.

Within a second of Jaeyun taking his place, Soonyeol comes through the door, a gleeful smile plastered on her face as he looks straight at her dolls. It’s evident that she’s missed them but then again, who wouldn’t? You know as soon as you leave here you’re going to have a hole in your heart, pieces of it left with each one of them - even Heeseung.

Turning, she looks at you sceptically, noting the off atmosphere in the room but you don’t allow her a second to ponder it, interjecting as she goes to speak. “So, Soonyeol, how was your trip?”

“Oh, it was excellent! Just a few bits and bobs to tidy up.” She avoids divulging your curiosity. It’s clear her business was either extremely mundane to the point that there was nothing to tell you about, or that she is still harbouring a secret from you. To be honest, you think you’re done snooping and uncovering secrets for the rest of your life.

Ignorance might just be bliss.

She rummages her tote bag in search of a brown envelope, which she gladly hands you, “Here is everything, I counted it 5 times so it should be right,” you marvel at the wad of cash in your hand. Never in your life have you seen this much money in one go, it’s truly amazing. “How were my boys? I hope they didn’t cause too much trouble.”

“Like they were never here,” you lie, smiling softly which eases Soonyeol’s mind.

“Thank you so much, Y/N. I can tell you’ve done a wonderful job here, I can’t thank you enough!” she beams as she looks longingly into Heeseung’s eyes. There is a spark of adoration between them that makes you smile, although you do want to warn her that he would have literally killed her if you asked him to.

Again, ignorance is bliss.

Gathering your belongings, you give the dolls one last look over, feeling a pang of sadness at the thought of leaving them behind. With a heavy sigh, you turn to Soonyeol, offering her a small, grateful smile.

"It was a pleasure, Soonyeol. Thank you for trusting me enough to look after them and this house," you say, your voice overcome with sincerity.

Soonyeol returns your smile, her expression warm and genuine. "If I ever need anyone again, you will be first on my call list," she replies, her words carrying a sense of appreciation for your dedication.

You bid farewell to the house and the memories it holds as you trudge through the long hallways. You can't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the experiences you've shared and the bonds you've formed. You’ll miss them all so dearly that it hurts you to even turn your back on them, but you know it’s for the best.

Carting your suitcase along the gravel, you catch sight of your car sitting patiently, a thin layer of dust coating its surface from the weeks it's spent waiting for your return. You had given up on cleaning it a while ago, unable to bear the reminders that your departure was imminent.

With a heavy heart, you click the boot open and shove your suitcase inside, the action punctuated by the force with which you slam it shut. Each motion is filled with a mix of sadness and frustration, emotions that have been simmering beneath the surface.

“Y/N, wait!” The familiar voice cuts through the air, causing your heart to skip a beat. Turning around, you're met with a sight that fills you with both hope and trepidation. 

Your heart quickens in your chest as you spot Jaeyun darting towards you, his face a blend of determination and urgency. Without hesitation, he closes the distance between you in a few rapid strides, his fingers reaching out to ensnare yours.

In an instant, he envelops you in his embrace, his lips descending upon yours in a sudden, fervent kiss. Time appears to halt as the world fades into the background, leaving only the two of you entwined in a whirlwind of emotion.

The kiss is a whirlwind of emotion, a testament to the depth of your connection, leaving you both breathless and exhilarated.

As you pull away, a sense of urgency floods through you, prompting you to glance back at the house with a surge of panic. "Jaeyun, go back inside. Soonyeol-"

But before you can finish, Jaeyun interrupts with a bright smile, his arms still wrapped around you protectively, "I'm coming with you," he declares, punctuating his words with a gentle kiss on your nose.

Your eyes widen in disbelief, confusion swirling in your mind, "But I thought Heeseung said no?" you ask, searching Jaeyun's face for reassurance.

Jaeyun nods, holding you tight to him, “He said he was just waiting for Soonyeol, to ask if she would let me go and she said yes, can you believe it?” 

No. No, you really can’t.

Then again, you know from your time with Heeseung and the box of cherished memories between him and Soonyeol that he really does do everything for her. If she wanted to keep Jaeyun then Heeseung would never dream of cutting the tie between the younger and his minder. 

A wave of relief washes over you, mingled with a sense of wonder at the unexpected turn of events. In that moment, you realise that your happy ending isn't just a distant dream - it's within reach, waiting for you to seize it. 

Glancing back at the house, you spot the others standing at the door, their figures framed by the warm glow of the sun. Soonyeol stands among them, her expression a mix of fondness and understanding, a knowing grin playing at the corners of her lips as she waves you off. She doesn’t look upset at the boys for blowing the secret but rather happy that one of them found serenity with someone the way she has with this house, with the dolls.

Quite honestly, you thought she would have blown a gasket but she isn’t the evil overlord you pictured her to be, even after Heeseung’s story of how she just wanted away from her toxic family you thought she must be hiding something to go to such lengths; perhaps hurt them or worse. But she really is just a girl, looking to live a peaceful life with a family she chooses, not one picked for her by God.

It all makes sense, calling upon Heeseung, because she lost her faith in the divine. Even heaven banished Jongseong for being dedicated to his job which tore them apart, she just did what she had to do.

A pang of sadness washes over you as you realise you're leaving behind the friends who have become like family to you. Each of them holds a piece of your heart, and the thought of saying goodbye, tugs at your emotions.

But as you turn to face Jaeyun, his hand clasped firmly in yours and that puppy-like smile plastered on his face, a sense of peace settles over you. With him by your side, you know you'll be okay. 

Besides, who says you can’t pop back for a visit?

taglist: @nshmrarki @kgneptun @addictedtohobi @parksunghoonsgf @chaewonshoney @chiiiiiiiiis @lilyuwon @rayofsunshineeee @moon7jay @erehkinnie30 @brownsugarbaybee @minniejenseo @woninluv @jaysluvs @fakeuwus @capri-cuntz @ash024 @who-tf-soddhi @bambangan @vousty @heeseungspookie @alvojake @yorukoshii @haechonly @riftanswhore @emi-en @branchrkive @featjunranghae @thejjrl @nyxtwixx @sunghoonnsupremacy @nctislifue @itsnikitty @enhypenlovre

[raised-u-fr0m-perdition]

𝙾𝙻𝙳 𝙵𝙰𝚂𝙷𝙸𝙾𝙽𝙴𝙳 | bartender!dean winchester

Summary: Dean Winchester needs a job after his little brother left for Stanford, and he’s good at mixing drinks. You happen to work at Harvelle’s Roadhouse, which is the place he chose to work at. He finds a family. He finds a new life. But he also finds you. But you have problems of your own.

A/N - My first reader series, do make sure to comment and/or reblog feedback. Set with S1/2 Dean cause I love our baby boy 😁 and pretend group chats exist on old phones lol

SERIES MASTERLIST

one - gin and tonic

Harvelle’s Roadhouse.

It was rather a homely place, with the constant chatter of the different people that stop by for a quick drink, the tunes playing from the jukebox, followed by the clatter of pool cues that ended with the clinking and tappings of glass on glass and glass on table. The place was lit with warm light, bulbs hanging from the ceiling and the distinct musk of whiskey, vodka and tequila that burned people’s throats without the liquid even going down them. It was chaotic.

It was home.

You shared a look with Jo, who was busy serving a passer-by with a cheery smile on her face while Ellen was walking a first-time drinker through the right options, rather than ordering fifty at once and getting so hammered that you three would have to drag them off the floor of the bar and mop up their sick. You sneakily poured a shot for yourself, downing it before anyone but Jo had a chance to see what you were doing and washing out the shot glass. You were a bartendress, you could hold your liquor without a problem.

“Hey.” Jo nudged you after serving a whiskey and nodded to the opposite corner, where a clearly wasted man was trying to grope a poor girl passing by, grabbing her wrist and trying to tug her back with slurred words and bedroom eyes. The sight made your blood boil and your hand itch to reach for the baseball bat that laid behind the counter. “Reckon we should 86 ‘em?”

“I don’t think there should be reckon anything.” You frowned, pursing your lips. “Dude needs to go.” You kept your eyes on the guy, while your co-worker and good friend Benny approached you two with narrowed blue eyes and cap pulled low over his brow.

“Everythin’ alright here, darlings?” He drawled, and his eyes follow the trajectory of yours and Jo’s until he finds the drunk man across the room, a small hum of acknowledgment leaving his mouth. “Y’all can relax. I’ll handle this-”

“Hey, pal?” A hand with a silver ring on it gripped the shoulder of you guys’ target, the voice sounding a bit stern. The hand was connected to a leather jacket-clad arm, which was worn by a man who was about 6’ 1” in height, and rather devastatingly handsome. He had sandy blonde hair and startling green eyes, with pouty pink lips and rather a defined jaw. He was built well, and clearly benched or at least worked out. You found yourself staring at his easy smile that masked some well-controlled anger towards the guy. “The lady doesn’t want you touching her. I’d hate for that handsome face of yours to be ruined.” The sarcasm in the comment got you grinning, and also got Benny over to the scene to roughly take the drunk dude’s hand off the girl, pulling him up and throwing him out while Jo ducked out from the counter to take care of the poor thing and get her a drink.

You found the stranger who helped Benny out at the counter, eyes twinkling as he looked into yours with a grin that twinkled in the light of the flickering bulb above your heads that you quickly twisted and got properly working again. “Harvelle’s Roadhouse, what can I get you today?” You greeted automatically, giving the man a smile that held a hint of gratitude. Gratitude, yes, but your eyes betrayed knowing. You could see the lost look in his eyes, almost searching for a place, and your heart went out to him. You knew all too well how that felt. All too well.

“A job, hopefully.” He answered with a nervous chuckle, looking down and then up at you with his eyes scanning you almost imperceptibly. “Saw the hiring sign outside, thought I might try my hand here.”

“Well, your hand got lucky.” You grinned, tapping the counter twice to get Ellen’s attention while she was serving another customer. “Can I get a name?”

“That’d be helpful.” He smirked, then put out his hand for you to shake. “Dean Winchester.” You shook his hand while giving him your name in return, Ellen stepping to stand beside you.

“We got a new hire, huh?” She chuckled, shaking Dean’s hand. “Hi, I’m Ellen. I run the place.”

“Dean. Winchester.” The name made Ellen’s eyebrows raise in surprise, and yours did too in curiosity. She seemed to know Dean, and that intrigued you.

“You’re one of John Winchester’s boys.” Ellen noted, which made Dean look between you and Ellen, his eyes lingering on you for a moment longer.

“You know my old man?” He asked curiously, his emerald eyes almost giving a puppy-dog look as he addressed Ellen, his hands clasped on the counter in front of him.

“John stopped by often, was like family once.” She nodded with a soft smile. “Also knew you through Bobby, also a regular. Said you were a good kid. Well, I guess you’ve met our golden girl.” Ellen gestured to you with a tender hand, patting your shoulder. “She makes the meanest Cosmo around. She’ll show you ‘round, get you acquainted with the rules and regulations and also introduce you to the others working this shift. Take him through it, sweetie.” Ellen moved away to serve more customers, while you lifted up the gate to the counter to allow him inside. Dean stepped in, already looking mesmerised by the atmosphere and simultaneously the large selection of hard liquor to get through. Jo and Benny left their posts, strolling over to join you two.

“A new hire.” Benny held his hand out for Dean to shake. “Benjamin Lafitte, brother, but call me Benny.” Benny took one look at shared a look with you; he saw it too. The need of a metaphorical map in this stranger’s minuscule mannerisms. He was in need of support, and even though you two didn’t know what for, you were happy to give it.

“Benny, got it.” Dean shook Benny’s hand with an easy grin. “Dean Winchester, but call me Dean.” He turned to Jo, his eyes flicking up and down her as he’d done with you, and you noted that it might be a natural thing for him. Checking out pretty ladies. “And who might you be?”

“Jo.” She shook his hand, flicking her blonde hair out of her face.

“Don’t be shy, Joanna Beth.” Benny teased, piquing Dean’s interest.

“Joanna Beth?” He repeated with raised eyebrows and a small smirk.

“It’s just… Jo.” Jo chuckled, swatting Benny’s shoulder. “Ignore him.”

“Duly noted.” Dean nodded, then Benny took his shoulder. Their eyes met, and Benny’s lips twisted into a smirk.

“One question for you, brother.” Benny drawled in his slow accent, his eyebrow raising under the cap. “Can you handle your liquor?”

“I can mix ‘em and drink ‘em, if that’s what you’re getting at.” Dean answered confidently, that devilish grin still on his face.

“Then you’ll fit right in.” You clapped his shoulder- his surprisingly muscular shoulder - and brought him over to show him the ropes. “Initiation’s gonna be fun.”

Later on, when the Roadhouse closed up and all the patrons were out, we gathered around the bar. You introduced Dean to your resident party animal, Ash, who was busy being a genius in his room out back. You all were relaxing with glasses of whiskey, making sure to make Dean feel at home. He fit in well, and had instantly become a popular with the ladies and Benny’s new partner in crime. Jo pulled out ten shot glasses, which made everyone but Dean whoop and clap their hands.

“Time for initiation, young man.” Ellen cackled, taking out a bottle of bourbon, scotch, hard whiskey, vodka and tequila. Dean stared at the five bottles in confusion as they filled up the shot glasses, two shots per bottle in the order described.

“Complete this test and you’re officially one of us.” Jo smiled, pushing all of them forward in a neat line while you prepared a stopwatch. Dean registered all of the five drinks lined up with a small smirk, and then glanced around at the others in the room.

Had everyone done this before?

The prospect was thrilling. Getting to be part of a surrogate family that seemed to be so… happy. Especially since Sammy had left for Stanford and his old man wasn’t the keenest where he was concerned, being a part of this was all he wanted.

“All you have to do is down all ten of these shots within forty five seconds.” You grinned, holding up the stopwatch. “Level one is bourbon. Then scotch. Then you have hard whiskey, but not too strong. After that’s some tangy vodka, and you have the final level. Our strongest tequila.”

“Strong as hell. Beauty’s got a kick.” Benny whistled, then nudged you. “Remember when Bela thought she could handle more of that stuff and was passed out on the pool table five minutes later?”

“Like it was yesterday.” You laughed, then gestured to Dean. “Take your mark, soldier.” Dean stepped up to the counter, assessing the situation with careful, determined green eyes. They always seemed to captivate you. That and his winning smile. He’d taken off his leather jacket, which was over a blue flannel and grey undershirt. He had a boyish charm to him that you couldn’t help but warm up to as well. “Ready?”

“Born ready.” He nodded, mentally preparing himself as he took a deep breath, waiting for his cue. Then when there was the loud shout of ‘go’, he started slamming back the shots, the liquid burning his throat as we went. The bourbon and scotch were easy, the whiskey went down quicker than expected, but he faltered slightly on the vodka, the tang making one of his eyes close instinctively.

It felt like a goddamn barrage of sour candies at once.

However, Dean braved it and threw back the other, picking up the tequila and downing the first one. The burn made him cough and shake his head as the room went off kilter for a moment, but he grabbed the other and took it down in half a second before slamming the glass down on the table. You stopped the timer, and Dean straightened up as he got what felt like a million claps on the back. He met your eyes with a wide grin that matched yours, gratefully downing the glass of water that Ellen gave him before letting out a whoosh of breath.

“You’re one of us, brother.” Benny chuckled deep, gripping his shoulder. Dean couldn’t help but think about how mismatched this little gang was. There was mama bear Ellen, who doted on everyone as well as being a badass in her own right, mother of the sweetly fierce Jo, or Joanna Beth, who could flash a sweet smile at one point but stare daggers the next that can chill bones. Benny, with his distinct cap and fashion sense, paired with the slow drawl of an accent and rough-around-the-edges demeanour.

And then there was you. By what he knew of you, you were a firecracker. Cheeky smiles and a confident way of moving about pairing beautifully with your suave way of handling and mixing drinks. Paired amazingly, like a gin and tonic, or vodka and soda. Beginner’s drinks, but a classic and something he’d walk back to every time. Or maybe you were like whiskey on the tongue. You had an almost irresistible burn to you. Maybe a bourbon, with the hint of sweetness to your demeanour.

Ah, he’d find out someday.

You woke up the next morning, in the bed that was in your room at the Roadhouse to a texts from the group chat you all had, which didn’t include Ellen otherwise she’d chastise you all for the messages you left on there sometimes. You knew that today would be rather an eventful day, since Bela, Meg and Ruby were coming to work on your shift. The trio were alike in every sense of the word, but there was a respective increase in the level of savagery. Bela was smoothly rude, in either a way you couldn’t fault her for or one that you just couldn’t argue back to. Meg could roast you without a second thought but she made it sound like charisma, which it was, rather than outright hatred. If she wanted to, however, she could let you know she hated you. Ruby was just downright honest. Brutally honest in every way possible, but she couldn’t help but be one of your best friends. For all her sharp insults and snarky comments, she just had a wow factor you couldn’t ignore.

Since Dean was in need of a place to stay, Benny graciously offered to let the newcomer stay over. You and Benny had found the Roadhouse together, and you knew a lost soul when you saw one. A kindred spirit. You’d lived at the Roadhouse, courtesy of Ellen and Jo, and even when it wasn’t your shift, you always managed to make it there for a good day of relaxing, laughing and playing pool and maybe poker. Today, since it was a Sunday, the Roadhouse closed early, which meant you all could play random games and jam to karaoke and old songs on the jukebox.

You checked the messages on your phone, snickering at how many there were. But what caught you off guard was the latest one.

Queen B: Alright, what’s the deal with the new guy? Is he hot?

You: Bela, chill. Don’t go hitting on Dean already.

Megolodon: Dean? Even his name sounds sexy as hell

Ruby-gina George: Y’all are desperate

You: Right? Jesus, you haven’t even met the guy yet

Queen B: I call dibs on him 😉 Megolodon: I hope he has a brother, if you know what I mean 😏 older or younger I don’t mind at all, but I prefer younger

Ruby-Gina George: We haven’t even seen him yet

You: Stop thirsting over a guy you haven’t met

Queen B: You’ve seen him- is he hot?

Megolodon: C’mon, spill

Queen B: IS. HE. HOT

You: You two need to STOP

Ruby-Gina George: Touch freakin’ grass

Ben Dover: Leave the poor girl alone, Bela, she needs a breather

You: FINE. He’s attractive, alright

Queen B: HE’S MINE

Megolodon: Dibs on his brother

ScarJo: My god, stop blowing up my phone or mom will see these messages and fire us all

Queen B: Worth it

Megolodon: Yeah, I’m cool with that, just give me the hot bartender’s brother, please and thank you

Casanova: Who are we talking about? I’m confused.

Ben Dover: New hire

Casanova: Ah.

You shook your head, shoving your phone in your pocket as you stood up, heading over to the cupboard. You pulled out a red plaid shirt, taking off your tank and pulling the chosen clothing item on, doing up the buttons before heading to your mirror and trying to tame your hair for the first time in ages. Eventually, you settled on a simple rope braid that still had a few strands coming out of it, taking off your sweatpants and replacing them for jeans. Rolling up your sleeves to your elbows as you went, you zoned out while staring at the silver band on your finger with a snake engraving.

The delicate welts in the ring.

You weren’t married, no, but it was a part of where you came from. You weren’t proud of your history. The one part of it that came out good was your siblingship with Benny.

You met the sunshine streaming through the window, along with the sight of Dean already working at the bar. His flannel’s sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, his hair was short and spiky and he wore a soft smile on his face that suited him. However, his eyes flickered to a girl at the bar you knew all too well. What with her penchant for the finer things in life, hence the perfectly styled brown hair and clever green eyes, complete with a British accent.

Bela Talbot.

She was giving Dean what looked like bedroom eyes until his eyes flickered over to you, his face lighting up instantly with a chuckle at whatever she was saying. You seemed to pick up your sleepy mood as well, returning the grin. Bela smirked slightly, pumping her eyebrows twice as she took a sip of her wine. Wine in the morning. It made you grin at your friend.

How very Bela.

“Mornin’, sweetheart.” Dean rumbled, his morning voice sounding deep and rich. “Sleep well?”

“Slept great, thanks.” You replied softly, pouring yourself a glass of water and sipping it. “You settle in ok? At Benny’s?”

He nodded. “Oh, yeah.” He chuckled a bit, looking down with a bashful smile and a bite of his lip. “He’s great. And it’s great at his place.”

“Had I come earlier, I would offer you a bed at my place.” Bela smirked, then winked playfully rather than flirtatiously. “There’s only one, but I wouldn’t mind sharing.” The comment got a laugh out of both Dean and you, knowing it was all in good fun.

“An offer that I probably wouldn’t refuse.” Dean replied with a suave tone that had Bela grinning at you, nudging you before pointing at Dean with a manicured finger.

“I like him. He’s funny.”

“Good to know.”

“Well, you’re quite a handsome one.” Meg swayed up to the counter, dark brown hair swaying as her equally as dark eyes scanned Dean. She delicately put out her hand for him to shake. “Hi. Meg Masters, darling.”

“Dean Winchester.” Dean shook her hand with a sideways look, seeming rather flattered by the attention of so many women. “And thank you.”

“Just for research purposes-”

“Meg, don’t say it.” You whispered, but she waved you off with a sultry chuckle, her eyes focusing on Dean as she stole a bottle of vodka from behind the bar, pouring a shot which she threw back expertly.

“Do you have a brother? Out of curiosity.” She asked blatantly, smiling innocently at Dean, but you knew the smile wasn’t so incredibly innocent. Meg was like a demon; she corrupts easily. But she was a loveable little devil.

“Oh, shut up, we don’t have to be so touchy feely and up close.” Ruby groaned as she walked in, blonde hair swinging. “And get me a shot of tequila, it was a long and insufferable car ride.”

“You must be Ruby.” Dean noted, pointing at Ruby and smirking slightly. “Bela’s given me the rundown on who’s who. And yeah, I do have a younger brother. Sammy. He’s a dork.”

“Even better.” Meg winked as she poured Ruby a shot of tequila and passing it to her. “Where’s Benny at? I need my daily dose of that accent otherwise I might go insane.”

“You’ve already got the image of the newbie’s little brother so far up your ass, I’m surprised you remembered Benny.” Ruby snorted, taking her shot. “He’s out bein’ errand boy with Ellen and Jo. Texted him when I got here.”

“Earning some brownie points, are we?” Bela giggled. “How very like our suave gentleman.”

“Wine before breakfast.” You quipped, sipping your water. “How very like our expensive Brit, hm?” A round of laughter came from everyone around you, including Bela.

“You got me there.” She sighed playfully, sipping her wine. “Damn you.”

“Damn me.” You winked back, and then a nervous chuckle came from Dean.

“Don’t mean to be a downer on the party, ladies, but I’m feelin’ kind of out of place here.” He gave you all a nervous smile, and the lost puppy look was starting to come out again. You laid a comforting hand on his forearm, tilting your head.

“Don’t worry about it.” You smiled softly, letting out a breath through your nose. “We all love you already. Even if these three are too much.”

“Too much looks good on me, biatches.” Ruby added with a drawl, which got a grin out of Dean and you.

“We get it, Ruby.” You giggled, then glanced back at up Dean and his gorgeous green eyes. “You’re doing great, Dean. Don’t sweat it too much.” The comment got a suggestive ‘ooh’ out of the other three girls in the room, which had you and Dean looking to the counter and the floor respectively with dumb grins on your faces.

“BREAKFAST!” Startled all of you when Ellen walked in with Benny and Jo, the women holding two grocery bags while Benny carried four, most likely out of pure gentlemanliness.

You shared a soft look with Dean, followed by a reassuring pat on his forearm before you stood up and moved to help Benny with the bags. He glanced down at his forearm with a slight smile, fighting off a blush as his tongue darted out to lick his lips. His hand rubbed over the spot before he got to unpacking the grocery bags, feeling assured. Feeling safe.

Feeling like he was part of a family.

bDe: so this is the group chat, huh

You: Hey, Dean 👋

bDe: hey, sweetheart ;)

Ruby-gina George: Where did SWEETHEART come from

Queen B: You wish you were someone’s sweetheart, Rubes

Ruby-gina George: In your dreams, Bell-bottoms

Queen B: But you hate bell bottoms

Ruby-gina George: Exactly 😊

bDe: are they always like this

Ben Dover: You get used to it, brother

You: It’s all uphill from here

Casanova: Can someone please tell me the name of the new hire? I need to add him to my contacts.

bDe: dean winchester

Casanova: Thank you. I am Castiel Novak.

ScarJo: Cas, the perfect spelling, punctuation and grammar is NOT necessary

You: Yeah, how can you type that without getting bored

Casanova: How do you type without perfect spelling, punctuation and grammar?

Megolodon: We just type, Cassie baby, it’s not that hard

Queen B: Even I don’t type that fancy, and I’m British

Ruby-gina George: Part fancy Brit, part asshole

Queen B: I hate you

Ruby-gina George: You’re such a flirt

You: Like I said, Dean, uphill from here

ScarJo: Yeah, doesn’t get much worse than this

bDe: nah this right here is gold

Ben Dover: *eats popcorn*

bDe: can I have some

Ben Dover: sure, brother

You: All of you are unhinged- @Casanova are you gonna be there on your shift tomorrow

Casanova: Yes, I am.

Queen B: Our dear Cas, bland texter by day, expert mojito mixer at night

ScarJo: Sounds accurate to me

Casanova: I hate you all.

You : You love us ☺️

Casanova: I suppose that’s true.

After closing, everyone had gone to their respective houses, or so you thought. You were about to change and get into bed after a long day of supervising the bar in case Dean needed help or the girls were being far too flirty for their own good, but then you heard clinking glass from downstairs that piqued your interest. You prepared to grab the baseball bat from the cupboard on the landing as you crept out, but only heard the humming of a low voice you recognised as Dean. You walked into the main bar to find him cleaning the glasses, the clink coming from when he set them down with the others. But he heard you enter, and he looked up with the washcloth still held in his large hand. “Hey, sweetheart.”

“Dean, what are you…” You quickly moved to his side, ducking under the counter and taking the cloth. “Why are you here so late?”

“Thought I should clear up. It makes a good first impression.” He shrugged, and you got the whiff of ‘I’m lost and just want to fit in’ again. Dean mentioned a brother yesterday, so it had you wondering why he found the Roadhouse in the first place. Everyone was a lost soul who came here to work. Castiel divorced his wife and left his daughter, and needed a job after he was fired. Ruby left her abusive family, and Meg was in a toxic relationship. Bela had been on the run from her family and had become a pocket thief in the process until Ellen gave her a place at the Roadhouse. As for you and Benny, well, that was a topic neither of you were fans of touching that topic.

“You don’t have to work for that, Dean.” You reassured, squeezing his shoulder. “You’re already fitting in. Just don’t change yourself for insecurity’s sake. It’s gonna bite you in the ass later.”

“Good to know.” Dean chuckled, fiddling with the ring on his finger. “And I prefer my ass to be unbitten.”

“Don’t we all.” You joked, then gave him a smile. “C’mon, if you really wanna make a good impression, then get some rest.”

“You sure?” He frowned a little, his hand twitching to take the cloth from your hands, but you moved it further away. “I could help out, y’know.”

“Not that we don’t want you here, it’s just that we value physical well-being. And mental.”

“Gotcha.” He laughed, nodding as he picked his jacket off the coat hook. “Are you absolutely sure?” Dean wore a concerned look on his face, not wanting to leave you alone to do work. “I could save you some time.”

“I’m gonna drag Bela, Meg and Ruby’s asses to do this.” You chuckled, setting the cloth down on the counter. Dean felt comfortable as hell around you. Maybe it was because you were the first one he knew at the Roadhouse. “Go on, get.”

“Alright, alright, Jesus.” He took out his keys, winking smoothly. “Have a nice night, darlin’.”

“You too, Dean.” You waved as he left, a minute later the loud purr of a car, crunching gravel and screeching tyres gracing your ears.

3:00AM

Queen B: Anyone awake, I’m boredddddd

Megolodon: Same girlie

Ruby-gina George: Some people value their sanity you know

Ben Dover: Why are you up at 3am

bDe: so much for being told to get some sleep

You: You two are insufferable

Casanova: We have work tomorrow.

Queen B: Ohh god, I’m so drunnnnkkkkk

ScarJo: How much hard liquor have you had?

Queen B: Mmmmmmmaybe three

Queen B: b9ttles of tequ8la You: Three WHAT

Ruby-gina George: She’s so slammed she’s typing numbers

Megolodon: Awesome

Ben Dover: Bela, darling, where are you

Queen B: in your lap

bDe: damn

NEXT UP:

“So, darlin’, what do you do in your free time?” Dean asked you, cleaning out a glass with a rag and shooting a wink to a couple of giggling girls nearby. You poured a whiskey for a patron, sliding it across the table.

“Well, I’m a big fan of joyrides.” You answered with a goofy grin. “My Mustang’s always fun to take a spin in.” The mention of your Mustang got Dean’s eyebrows up to his hairline as he pointed out of the window.

“That beaut’s yours?” He exclaimed in disbelief, laughing. “Damn. That’s a serious muscle car.”

“Yeah, my Valkyrie. Val’s my sweetheart, always will be.” You looked up wistfully at the mention of your beloved car. “And your Chevy Impala, she’s absolutely gorgeous. I could listen to her purr all day.”

“That’s my Baby.” He bore the same wistful look you did, then nudged you. “We should take ‘em out for spins. Y’know, joyrides.”

“You sure?” You chuckled, looking up at him. “I don’t drive easy.”

“Even better.” He gave you a little wink paired with a click of his tongue. He flipped a bottle in his hand, pouring a whiskey shot expertly and handing it to you. “Ma’am.”

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[junrenjun]

Comfortable

omega!joshua x beta!reader (mentioned alpha!seungcheol x omega!jeonghan, implied ot13 x reader)

genre: angst (kinda) with some good ole fluff

wc: 1223

warnings: reader has periods, mentions of blood, a/b/o dynamics

summary: joshua sees y/n having a bad day and finds a way to make her more comfortable.

a/n: Wow I actually wrote again! As suggested, I'm going to make this and "Understand" into a little series, with snippets of this ot13 x reader pack. I'll try my best to cover each member at least once. Anyways this means I need a name for the series so if you have any suggestions feel free to let me know. Also how did so many of you like/reblog Understand without telling me that I wrote ot8 instead of ot13 :/ (I guess that's what I get for writing at 3 AM). Enjoy!

Joshua knew something was wrong when you emerged from your room wearing your own sweatpants. Half of your closet wasn’t even your own clothes at this point. You had to have gone out of your way to put on something that didn’t originally belong to another pack member. Were you fighting with someone? Were the scents too much? Did you not want to be part of the pack anymore? He tried his best to push the negative thoughts to the back of his mind, but to no avail.

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as you trudged into the kitchen in silence, stopping halfway through like you forgot what you came for. You didn’t greet him or even acknowledge his presence in the living room. Okay, something is definitely wrong.

Eventually, you remembered your purpose in the kitchen and scampered to the fridge, opening the freezer. After a few moments of shuffling and mumbles of, “where is it,” he heard a sniffle. Then another. Concerned, Joshua turned around, watching in horror as you dropped to the floor and started sobbing. The scent of distress permeated the room and he was quick to scramble to your side. 

He crouched down next to you, reaching out slowly. You lifted your head slightly to look at the man in front of you, before throwing yourself into the omega’s arms. Joshua fell back onto his butt with a small oomph.

He couldn’t care less though, he just wanted to comfort his beta. He hugged you tightly, letting your tears soak into his shirt. After a few minutes, your hiccups started to slow and he felt it was the right time to ask, “what’s got you so worked up?”

You mumbled something into his shoulder. He furrowed his brow trying to understand what you said. “You gotta say it louder honey.”

A beat passed, then you lifted her head and looked away from him. “It’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid if it has you crying on the kitchen floor.” He paused for a second, debating his words. “And clearly something has you upset. You’re wearing your own sweatpants instead of that pair of Jun’s that you really like.”

You snorted. Your scent finally cleared a bit and Joshua gave a small smile. “You don’t have to tell me right now, but I want to make sure you’re okay.”

You sighed and looked longingly at the fridge for a second before turning back to the omega with a deadpan expression. “I thought we still had some Ben and Jerry’s ice cream in the freezer but I guess we don’t.”

Oh. Joshua’s smile grew. “That’s it? I thought you, like, didn’t want to be part of the pack anymore or something.” 

An expression of horror crossed your face. “Why on Earth would you think that?”

This time, it was his turn to deadpan. “You came out of your room looking like shit, wearing your own clothes, and then dropped onto the kitchen floor sobbing! Of course I thought something was wrong!”

You rolled your eyes, but Joshua saw the hint of a smile on your lips. He grabbed your hand, intertwining your fingers, before softly saying, “the ice cream really doesn’t explain the first half of that though.” 

You laughed for a second before pointing to the calendar on the fridge, where a small red dot was drawn on the top right corner of the box marking today’s date. “I’m on my period Joshie. I don’t want to accidentally get blood on Jun’s pants.” 

Suddenly, Joshua felt really, really stupid. It was all right in front of his face. “Oh.”

His surprised face was enough to make you cackle, and he giggled to himself at you rolling on the floor. This time laughing instead of crying. Joshua doesn’t really know what possessed him to blurt this out so abruptly, but sure enough he asked, “do you want to come sit in my nest with me?” 

It was your turn to be surprised this time. “You want me to sit in your nest with you? Like right now?”

You didn’t think you had ever seen the omega be so shy since you started living with the pack. His cheeks turned red and he looked away from you. “Yeah I mean, if you are okay with it. It really helps me feel better during pre-heat, so I figured it might help you?”

Joshua finally looks back up at you and is relieved to see that you're smiling. You start to stand up, pulling him with you while saying, “okay Joshie lead the way.”

You don’t miss the way his face lights up. He pulls you along to his and Jeonghan’s shared room. He’s grateful to catch the other omega’s scent coming from Seungcheol’s room. He figured he would be there, Jeonghan spends more time there than his own bedroom. And yes, Joshua is selfish enough to want some alone time with you (and maybe have an excuse to have you covered in his scent).

Finally, you both make it to his room. He feels you pause and linger near the door as he begins to rearrange his nest. He knows exactly what you are going to say before the words leave your mouth. “Are you sure you still want me in your nest?”

He deadpans to you for what feels like the millionth time that day and says, “y/n, if I didn’t want you here I wouldn’t have said anything. Now get your butt in my nest before I carry you there myself.”

Slowly, you approach the side of his bed, unsure of how to enter without messing up his hard work. You don’t miss the hoodie that you thought you lost pushed into the corner closest to his pillow. You run your hands across it before Joshua begins to get impatient and finally tackles you into the nest. As you make contact with the bed, his nose accidentally brushes against your neck. He takes a deep breath and inhales as much of your scent as he possibly can. Before he can realize what he’s doing, he’s pushing his nose into your gland and scenting you.

Your body stiffens and he pulls back, realizing his mistake. “Oh my god I’m so sorry y/n. I didn’t mean to scent you without asking first.”

He feels relieved when he notices the happy undertones peeking out in your scent. Your body relaxes underneath him and you grin up at him before saying, “do it again.”

Joshua doesn’t waste a single second, immediately burying his face back in your neck. A contented sigh leaves your mouth, and god, he would do anything to hear that sound for the rest of his life. You don’t leave him much time to dwell on it though, because you’re suddenly pushing him onto the bed and scenting him like your life depends on it.

He can’t help but giggle as your hair tickles his face and neck. “I guess you’re feeling better?”

You nod into his neck before pulling away to look at him and say, “it's still not ice cream but I’ll take it.”

Joshua is one step ahead of you though, he’s got DoorDash pulled up on his phone already and a pint of Ben and Jerry’s Phish Food ice cream in his cart.

[mynameismckenziemae]

All of Me

Part 3

(previous part here, next part here)

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x You

Summary: You take a stroll down memory lane and Jake surprises you in more ways than one

Warnings: 18+ MDNI! Smut, oral (m receiving), premature ejaculation, accidental facial, cumplay. Mentions of medical stuff/blood, probable naval inaccuracies, probable medical inaccuracies, mentions/memories of losing a spouse

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•

The note with Jake’s number is shoved into your desk drawer to be forgotten. Out of sight, out of mind, right?

Wrong.

You find yourself thinking of him often as the week goes by; wondering what he’s doing while you’re in a meeting, hoping he’s not eating alone as Drew tells you about his day over dinner and remembering his touch when your fingers trail between your legs.

The weekend comes and goes quickly. Saturday is spent at Drew’s baseball tournament and Sunday is catching up and prepping for the week.

You fall into bed that night, exhausted, and drift off in minutes, which is a rare but welcomed occurrence as sleep likes to evade you. Once Drew’s down for the night and the house is dark, you struggle to fight off the underlying loneliness that’s always pressing in on you. Coming back to a quiet house is especially difficult after the constant hustle and bustle at all hours while deployed.

You wake up gasping just a few hours later; pillow damp from your tears as you reach for Andy beside you.

But the bed is just as cold and empty as your heart has been for the past 8 years.

Sleep then evades you, like it normally does after dreaming of your first love.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•

Rolling over with a sigh, you reach for your phone, but the doom scrolling does little to quiet your mind.

You were a brand new resident when Andy came in with a laceration above his eyebrow and a possible concussion after a training accident.

Even with the swelling, blood and the start of a black eye, you could see how attractive he was.

It had been a busy day and your preceptor left you to suture him once the concussion was ruled out as she was pulled away to help with a more pressing matter.

“This your first time?” Andy jokes, noticing the way you stalled; how you kept checking and rechecking you had all the supplies needed on the tray and looking at the door, praying your supervising physician would be back soon.

“Of course not,” you scoff dramatically before giving him a small smile, “I’ll have you know, I’ve put stitches in plenty of oranges and chicken breasts.”

His colleague, tasked with bringing him to the ER, chuckles from behind you.

A code-blue is called overhead and you sigh. There’s your sign that you’re on your own.

“Sorry,” you murmur when he hisses at the burn of the lidocaine you were injecting to numb him. “Almost done.”

“You’re going to feel pressure and pulling, but let me know if you feel anything sharp,” you tell him after giving the lidocaine time to work, taking a deep breath when he nods.

“Ow,” he says quietly as soon as you touch him. He’s teasing you again but it still makes you jump.

“Seriously?” You scold but he’s got the cutest grin and you can’t help but smile too.

“Sorry, I’ll be good,” he apologizes, still grinning.

“You better be,” you reply as you poke him with the curved needle. “Your pretty face is my hands. Okay?” You ask when he doesn’t flinch.

“Just fine,” he confirms. “You think I have a pretty face?”

“Maybe you do have a concussion,” you tease him, keeping your eyes on the work your hands are doing. “I never said that.”

“It’s true, Kernsie,” his friend pipes up from behind you. “She said your shitty face is in her hands.”

You can’t help but laugh.

“Oh fuck you, Bradshaw,” Andy chuckles too. His hand brushes accidentally brushes your waist when he reaches around you to flip him off and color rises in his cheeks. “Sorry ma’am.”

“It’s okay,” you murmur, just thankful that you’re halfway done.

“What’s your name?” He asks with 2 sutures to go. “Your first name.”

“Reese,” you reply.

“Like the peanut butter cups?”

“Exactly,” you confirm. “My mom craved them the whole time she was pregnant with me. They’re also my favorite.”

“Mine too,” he says and his eyes flick to yours. “You have beautiful eyes, Reese,” he murmurs lowly, so only you can hear.

It’s your turn to blush as you finish up.

“All done,” you say, stepping back and handing him a mirror. “I was able to follow your brow line so the scarring should be minimal.”

“Thanks for keeping my face pretty,” he smiles, making your heart skip a beat.

“Shitty,” Bradley coughs.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•

“Reese?”

You nearly jump out of your skin and reach for the pepper spray on your bag as you walk to your car an hour later. You were distracted having a mini pity party because you’ll never see Andy again that you didn’t notice someone waiting on the bench outside the door.

“Shit, sorry!” Andy says, rising. “It’s me, Andy, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“What are you doing here?” You ask, hand still on your pepper spray.

“I-fuck.” He sighs and turns to a light blue Bronco in the parking lot. “I told you this was a bad idea, Bradshaw. I scared the shit out of her.”

You squint and see Bradley giving him a double thumbs up from the driver's seat.

“I’m-uh, gonna go,” Andy says, stepping toward his ride. “I’m really sorry again, for scaring you.”

“Wait,” you take your hand away from the bottle. “Are you okay? Did you need something?”

“No, I’m fine. You did a great job,” he assures you. “I just…”

“He wouldn’t stop talking about you,” Bradley calls out the window when Andy hesitates. “He said he wished he would’ve asked for your number and then made me stop at a gas station before coming back and-“

“Thanks, Bradshaw, she gets it,” Andy interrupts, flustered. Somehow, it makes him even cuter. “Here,” he hands you a plastic bag.

Inside are Reese’s peanut butter cups.

Unexpected tears prickle in your eyes at the sweet gesture. Once your mom figured out that you liked them too, she never bought them again.

“Thank you,” you say softly, smiling.

“You’re welcome,” he replies, returning your smile before opening the door. “Have a good night.”

“Wait,” you call as you pull out your phone. “Can I get your number?”

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•

You finally fall back asleep only minutes before your alarm goes off and you’re dragging by the time you get Drew to school and yourself to work.

You’re filled with a mixture of butterflies and nostalgia when you see the familiar orange package on your desk when you enter your office.

Though there isn’t a note, you know it’s from Jake; you had mentioned the love of your namesake the night you’d spent together.

A smile pulls at your lips as you slide it into your top drawer to eat later, right next to Jake’s number.

Your heart pounds as you add his number to his phone. It can’t hurt to have another trustworthy man just a phone call away. Especially if Ron, Roo, Iceman, and Mav are busy.

That’s how you justify it at least.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•

“Can I take Drew tonight?” Bradley asks, eating his lunch in your office on Friday.

“Maybe,” you reply, taking a bite of the sweet chocolate treat that was left on your desk this morning. There had been one on your desk nearly every day this week. “If you tell me what you guys are gonna do.”

“You know I can’t tell you that, Kernsie,” he rolls his eyes. “What happens at boys nights-“

“Stays at boys' nights,” you finish with a sarcastic sigh. “Fine.”

“You should get laid while I’ve got him, maybe then you won’t be so-hey!” he laughs as you throw your wrapper at him.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•

Bradley picks up Drew at 5.

By 6, you’ve typed out but deleted multiple messages to Jake.

You put your phone face down and sigh as you sit on the couch.

Forget it, Reese. He’s probably got plans; it’s a Friday night and he’s hot, young, and single.

Another hour and several frustrated sighs later, you hit send.

Reese: Thanks for the peanut butter cups.

Your heart flutters when your phone rings a minute later.

“Reese? Hey,” he says when you answer. “You’re welcome. How was your week?”

Long. Exhausting. Lonely.

“Busy, you?”

Faint laughter in the background has your heart sinking.

Of course, he’s not sitting at home on a Friday night.

“I’m sorry, you’re busy. I shouldn’t-“ you start but he interrupts.

“I’m not busy. Nat and Javy’s invited me over so I’m third-wheeling as usual,” he assures you. “I’m happy you reached out. I’ve been hoping I’d hear from you.”

You smile.

“What are you up to tonight? Drew asleep already?” He asks.

“I doubt he’s asleep, he’s having boys' night with Bradley.”

“I see. So you’re home alone.”

“I am.”

“How do you feel about that?” He asks, hope lacing his tone.

“A little lonely,” you admit.

“I could keep you company?” He offers. “No strings, no expectations. Just two friends hanging out.”

“Can friends fuck?” You blurt out then wince.

Real smooth.

But you smile at his sharp inhale.

“I don’t see why not,” he replies after a beat.

“I’ll text you my address.”

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•

Reese: 418 Magnolia Lane.

You toss your phone onto the bed before changing out of the old, threadbare shirt of Andy’s you had put on after work, ignoring the pang of guilt. Not bothering with undergarments, you slip on a silky pair of shorts and a tank top, shivering at the way the material feels against your nipples.

Your phone dings as he replies.

Jake: Got it. Be there in 15.

Jake: Actually, might be closer to 20. I’ve gotta stop and pick up condoms first.

You’re surprised and a little relieved that he doesn’t have any on him.

Reese: Good thinking. See you soon.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•

He rings your doorbell exactly 23 minutes later and you have to force yourself to not rush to answer it.

“You’re late,” you tease when you open the door.

“I am,” he admits and hands over the pretty arrangement of flowers he’s holding. “My mom would smack me silly if she knew I showed up somewhere empty-handed, so I stopped at the flower stand.”

The butterflies in your stomach come back as you take them and step back to let him in. “Thank you, Jake.”

He gives you a smile and follows you to the kitchen to find a vase.

A wave of sadness washes over you though as you set them on the counter.

“Something wrong?” Jake asks, brushing your fingers with his when he sees your mood shift. “Are they too much? The guy said yellow roses mean friendship and I-.”

“Not at all,” you shake your head and give him a sad smile. “They’re beautiful, really. I just…I don’t remember the last time someone gave me flowers.”

You do remember, actually. It was Andy’s funeral. But you’re well aware that talking about your late husband makes people uncomfortable.

“Not since Andy died?” Jake asks softly.

You shake your head but then paste on a smile. “Sorry,” you say as you turn and open the fridge. “Have you eaten? I made dinner earlier and there’s leftovers in the fridge.”

“I ate earlier but thanks,” he replies, reaching for your hand. You expect him to kiss you, but instead, he pulls you in for a hug.

It feels so good to have his arms wrapped around you and he smells amazing; a heady mix of clean laundry and a hint of expensive cologne.

Your hands slide under his shirt as you start your relax and goosebumps follow your fingers as you trace over the warm skin of his back. Your breath hitches when he hardens against your stomach

You gather the thin material of his shirt in your hands and he helps you pull it over his head.

You bite your lip as your eyes hungrily roam over his tan chest and the cut ridges of his stomach before he pulls you back with a cocky smirk.

He leans in for a kiss but dodges your mouth, making you shiver when he instead presses his lips against your ear to murmur, “Like what you see?”

It’s cute how he thinks he’s got the upper hand.

“Yes,” you sigh, as your hand slides down his chest and over his belt to palm his cock, straining against the confines of his jeans. “I‘ve pictured you every time I’ve touched myself since our night together.”

He groans softly against your ear and his hips push further into your hand. “Tell me more?”

“I remembered the way you fucked me against the door,” your head falls back as he kisses down your neck. “How you looked up at me from your knees, figuring out what I like making me cum,” your eyes close as he hums against your shoulder, remembering too. Your hand slides up to the button of his jeans and he stills. “Imagining what it would be like to return the favor. Can I?”

He sucks in a breath before nodding.

You loved giving head, but it was intimate for you. Since you’ve only had a few hookups since Andy, this would be your first time in over 8 years. So your hands shake as you undo his jeans and you pull them down with you when you kneel.

Jake notices, ever observant.

But you tongue the precum through the fabric of his Calvin’s before he can protest and you moan when you’re rewarded with another burst.

“It’s just…it’s been a while,” you explain, looking up at him from under your lashes and do it again before you tug down his briefs. “So let me know if I do anything you don’t like.”

He nods, tucking your hair behind your ear.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•

“So big,” you murmur when you bring a hand up to wrap around him and your fingers can’t reach your thumb. He sighs as you trace the vein running the length of him.

He’s quiet, only breathing heavier while his hands clench and release at his sides as you continue teasing him with licks and flicks of your tongue before you finally pull him into your mouth.

“Oh Reese,” he breathes, closing his eyes as he leans back against the counter.

You nearly whimper when you look up at him. He looks wrecked; cheeks flushed pink and a light sheen of sweat covers his heaving chest.

Your other hand trails up your thigh and over your shorts as you start to bob your head, starting slowly and pulling a little more of him into your mouth each time.

“Fuck,” He gasps, knuckles turning white as he grips the edge of the counter when your lips meet your fingers circling him and you swallow.

You can tell he’s starting to get close.

His eyes fly open at the moan that escapes when your fingers find your clit through the silky material of your shorts.

“Oh God,” he rasps when he sees you touching yourself. “W-wait.”

“What’s wrong?” You pant, pulling him from your mouth.

“I can’t-I’m gonna cum,” he winces before he looks to the ceiling in effort and staves off his orgasm.

“Good,” you murmur and you begin to stroke him with the hand still gripping him.

“But I-fuck!”

He startles and his hips jerk when you draw him back to the wet heat of your mouth. He cums with a choked groan as he coats your chin and chest with thick white stripes.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•

“I am so incredibly sorry,” he says lowly, obviously mortified as he looks down at you covered in his spend.

“That was…” you bring your fingers up to wipe your chin, “so fucking hot.”

He watches with rapt attention as you bring your fingers to your mouth to suck them clean.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•

A/N: Sorry, kind of an abrupt ending. So…we find out more about Andy. I hope I’m not being annoying by including him so much…just trying to portray how hard it’s been on Reese.

What do you guys think?

As always, any interaction is appreciated but I love hearing what you think in comments/reblogs!

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[foursaints]

do u have any random thoughts about sirius/remus?? literally anything at all- any random blurb or thought just Anything. reading ur james thoughts and i wanted to ask because i feel like any ramblings/character specificities u have about them will scratch my brain rlly good

my thesis for them is that one quote about how soulmates will eventually find each other, because they have the same hiding place

like the longer i spend with them the more i realize that i see them as recluses. perhaps not literally speaking (r & s have their own ways of attracting friends) but they are the two most isolated characters in the story to me. they’re yoked with really specific (yet opposing) burdens that nobody else is ever going to understand. they want to permanently hide their faces from the world & they have both built that kind of barren refuge inside of themselves

many other characters have stories that are built around Love, and the presence (james, lily, andromeda) or absence (regulus, barty, tom) of it, but that isn’t r&s to me. they have the Least to do with love stories because their entire lives are already so wrapped up in resolving super individual questions of freedom & autonomy & the hurt they cause & the hurt they suffered… but that’s why their love story hits the hardest, for me? they’re the least suited for it and it happened anyway.

once again my remus is like…. a city unto himself, but all internal. polite & mild mannered but also impossible to sway. i think he has the biggest imagination of all of them and it’s what lets him remain so Untouched. he’s not a ~creative~ or anything (pretty uncreative, actually) but he’s a poor german werewolf who is living a Little inside his head specifically because his life sucks so bad. he’s a boy sleeping on a shitty mattress but stubbornly imaging himself sleeping on a better one, if that makes sense, and he’ll die before telling anyone that’s what he’s thinking about.

and then sirius is a prodigal girl-son who’s part dog and still operating somewhat like an ex-cult victim after leaving their family. but they’re so beautiful & terrible & spoiled & brave that nobody can See that. sirius doesn’t need a love story because they need their brother back. and remus has so much of his own baggage, and they are both such Monoliths of independence that it’s less like they’re committed to unraveling the threads of each other’s interiority and more like they’re two cars crashing into each other then scrambling to pick apart the wreckage, holding shattered parts up to the light to examine, one crash at a time. it’s crazy.

it’s like… they make the least sense for each other, but not JUST because they’re mismatched (which they are aesthetically, but not personality-wise). it’s because they’re the two people on earth who need romantic love the least and their lives would be MUCH less complicated without it, maybe even better. but they cannot escape each other. they will never escape each other!!! because!!! they have!! the same hiding places!!!!

[cerise-on-top]

Unfortunately, Tumblr glitched out again and I didn't receive your second ask either! However, I got the notification per e-mail, which is why I took a screenshot of it, hope that's alright! @houseoftitans

Price, Ghost and König with a Mercenary!Reader

Price: He understands why you’re doing this, it’s a pretty solid reason too. However, he will ask you, is it really the right thing to do? You could die at any point and your siblings would be left alone yet again. He won’t stop you, even if it’s plainly obvious you don’t really want to work that job, since money is important. Besides, it’s not like he can talk, he’s selling his own body to the military as well. But unlike you, he doesn’t have anyone waiting for him at home. You’re a competent mercenary, that much is true, but if you ever want to do something else, I’m sure he can find something for you. Hell, I know that he’d offer too. He knows plenty of positions that are a bit safer that also pay well. Maybe not as well as being a mercenary, but it’s money regardless. It would be a real shame to watch you waste away in a job you hate above all else. Once you’re close enough, he might offer to help you out financially, but it’s all up to you whether or not you accept his help. He really doesn’t mind, though.

Ghost: He understands what you’re going through, he would have done the same for his younger brother. But is this really what you want to do for the rest of your life? Or until the day you’re killed? While he won’t try to talk you out of it, it’s clearly your own business, he will hint at there being other options as well. He knows a few people who could get you in just about anywhere you want, there’s really no need to wear yourself down with this job you hate. However, if you ever were to need anything from him, regardless of whether it’s some money or just someone looking after your younger siblings for a bit, he’ll do it. He may seem rough around the edges, but he does have a soft spot for younger siblings, especially when they’re suffering. He’ll offer to find a solution together with you. After all, who would take care of your siblings once you’re gone? He doesn’t always have the time to do so either and just giving them to random people doesn’t seem like the ideal either. He’d much rather have you live above all else, and, of course, be happy while you’re at it.

König: At first it may seem like he doesn’t care at all. But that’s not particularly true, he just doesn’t know what to say. He wants to help you and be there for you, but he doesn’t want to overstep your boundaries, so he may come off as uncaring at first. He has no idea at all what you’re going through with your siblings, he’s an only child himself and his parents are off well enough, so he doesn’t really have many worries, aside from the usual. But I don’t think he could even help you all that well, the military and being a mercenary is all he’s ever known. He doesn’t know very many people either since he mostly just keeps to himself, so it’s not like he could offer you a better job either. But if you ever need anything from him, he’ll do it. Doesn’t matter what it is. You need money? You need someone to take care of them? You need something else? Granted, it might seem a little bit awkward at first, but he’s being sincere when he says so. In fact, I could see him taking on a few extra jobs himself just so he could help you provide money. He’s good enough at his job, plus you seem like you could use a small break from it all.

[fandomlurker333]

A lot of people are screaming throuple and just writing the porn (which I get! It’s fun!). But reading them come is not enough for me. lol Toxicity is hot until it’s just damaging and sad for everyone. I want real happiness for these three weirdos.

The end of the film was meant to be the very beginning of something. Just the spark of an idea of them coming back to one another. But the real work starts after. 

And I think it would probably be a step-by-step thing. 

I can see Patrick and Art working to draw closer, with that strong foundation of their childhoods to build off of. Obviously having to resolve the hurt that so much time and distance caused them, and both being willing to forgive. But it’s clear at the end of the film that the door is open for that. They grew up together. There’s a real root of knowing that I think could carry them through the toughest parts early on. Their relationship evolving feels possible.

And Tashi and Art’s marriage would find some breathing room and maybe even some renewed delight for having Patrick present and loving on them both. Kinda seeing each other again through his eyes type thing. Remembering they’re more than who they have been to each other for over a decade (both operating in one mode to survive, never quite enough for each other -- not totally fulfilled and not appreciated in their fullness).

I don’t think Patrick and Tashi would be having sex at this point, but I can see like….tennis dates where they bicker. Just them all learning how to be in each other’s space for extended periods of time and enjoy it.

And maybe Art wouldn’t resent Tashi so much for not being able to give him everything (so much has been taken from her — she just doesn’t have all that much left. She’s been doing her best.) and maybe Tashi would feel more at peace seeing them play each other and knowing Art is really loving tennis, not just playing for her. Connecting with them both in that space and finding joy in tennis again, so it’s not just routine and pain and loss for her.

With that healing happening concurrently (with therapists as support, of course), I think they’d get far. And then once those relationships are more secure, once Art and Tashi learn how they relate to each other when he isn’t winning for her (which would be something new. They don’t know what that looks like yet!) then Patrick and Tashi, having learned way more about themselves in relationship and how to communicate, might start working on their side of the triangle lol. 

I could see them all exploring and working out the intimacy over time — not just sex, but intimacy -- what do they each need and how do they need it? And kink too, the various ways they each want/need to give or receive so they all feel truly satisfied.

And of course they’ll be partners co-parenting. All of them.

I can see Tashi finally grieving her injury, the life she lost, and rediscovering her love of tennis, not to win, but for the joy of being on the court. Her sobs the first time she plays again and it’s not competitively, just a little volley, but it’s like she’s finally alive again. Reminding herself she’s a leader in tennis the space still, that she can build success in that world even without Art’s career, but maybe it looks different. I see a healed Tashi learning to enjoy teaching kids. Taking on more protege. And letting Art and Patrick come help at her tennis camps. 

Art retiring like he said he wanted, running the foundation as Tashi steps back. Realizing that he’s actually pretty good at this business thing and going back to school for a Master’s in nonprofit leadership. Meeting new people. Making friends (that aren’t Patrick). Getting invited to a pottery class and seeing he loves to work with his hands. Playing tennis with Patrick on the weekends.

And my heart for stay-at-home dad Patrick. Who always forgets to change over the laundry and leaves his keys everywhere and puts the babies' shoes on the wrong feet. But my god he loves those kids so goddamn much. Patrick learning to cook for the family and getting really good at it like he does anything he hyper-focuses on. Patrick finally having a home with the two people he loves most and figuring out how to create some routine and stability for himself within that container.

The love in that home. Ugh. I think it’s possible! I think they can do it! It just takes work. 

[cocogum]

The Great Wave - Chapter 4 Review

‼️ SPOILERS FOR THE CHAPTER ‼️

This might just be the weirdest chapter so far.

Because what just happened???

Meanwhile, far away from Aurora’s bullshit, we go to the borders of Amakna. And not gonna lie, I just feel genuinely surprised by that one town they got us to zoom in on.

You’re telling me that after all those centuries, there are still regions that haven’t been touched by ANY calamities?? Really? NO CALAMITIES?

First panel:

Elsewhere, on the borders of Amakna.

Spared from wars and natural cataclysms…

These people either live very far away from other regions like Frigost or their villages are just way too small to ever be noticed by danger itself. With all the stuff we’ve seen in the World of Twelve and how many disasters people have been in, it’s just so odd to see that there are still places in the world that have never been affected by anything before.

I don’t know why but just seeing these people having fun and enjoying life makes me sick.

Like what do you mean they’re not suffering or have never heard of any danger??? Don’t these people know what stress is???

People are even giving each other kamas as if it were nothing. They support each other and help no matter when or where they are or with who they are.

This is way too good to be true, they just HAVE to suffer.

And as if my prayers have been answered, here comes the part where it all goes to shit 🥰 Except that this wasn’t what I was expecting… AT ALL.

BECAUSE WHY IS JULITH HERE?!!??

And I STILL haven’t figured out who’s the dragon with the Ebony dofus! (he’s kinda sexy-looking tho ngl)

I refuse to believe that that’s Grougalorasalar because why on earth would he be the one to hate Yugo after he PURPOSELY JOINED IN OGREST’S CHAOS??? Bro is hating on a traumatized man who grew up in a day cuz he accidentally created a calamity but didn’t mention the fact that he himself PARTICIPATED IN A CALAMITY.

So for now I’ll just call him “the dragon”.

We can see how the dragon makes his appearance and immediately starts sucking out the souls of these villagers, which is not only a huge reference from the Dofus movie, where Julith has used that same technique with the exact dofus to try to revive her husband Jahash, but is also what the dragon is intending on doing by reviving Julith.

The only difference here however is that the dragon doesn’t seem to be nonchalant or even satisfied to steal their lives. He looks to be in misery at the idea of committing this action since we can see him shedding a tear at the lives he’s stealing. So we at least know he doesn’t entirely want to sacrifice a bunch of innocent people but for some reason has to.

Julith discovered that in order to revive Jahash, exactly 1000 souls needed to be stolen. Her findings have revealed that one person is equivalent to 1000 souls. As the dragon aimed to revive only Julith, it is likely that he actually sacrificed at least 1000 people from this town, which had been thriving until now.

What’s also shocking about this whole ordeal is that the reason why he came to this specific village was because Julith’s body had literally been under the ground this whole time.

These people had unfortunately been unlucky enough to have settled their homes over her body which resulted in the dragon using them as the perfect sacrifices to revive her.

But why bring back Julith?

Would the dragon be hiring her for a job? Julith used to be the guardian of the Ebony dofus so the dragon somewhat had a reason to bring her back but why now then?

Would he use Julith to make her fight Yugo?

Is that what this is all about? Or is there more to it? Also, would Joris be in the later chapters or the next volume to see her again after all those centuries?

This chapter gave us so many questions and very few answers. Because now that we know what the dragon intended to do with the village, we now have to wonder what he plans to do with Julith.

I don’t know about all of this but I do think it’s ironic that Julith got revived by the very same technique that she intended to use on Jahash only to refuse to go through the complete process at the last minute.