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#or like. maybe not even constant but knowing if i walk too much or sit too long or anything
unheavenlyvision · 3 days
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TEMPORARY
pairing: gojo satoru/reader
wc: 5.2k
summary: your close friend gojo is kind enough to let you stay with him for a while, it's just a shame that he's overly curious about what you read when he's not home
a/n; gojo is nosy and i stand by that, also, i can't seem to help myself when it comes to him... this was only meant to be 2k but i think i like him a little too much. that or he just yaps a lot
warnings: 18+ only, smut, pwp, dirty talk, fingering, tease!gojo, hickeys, p in v sex, clit slapping (once), creampie, afab!reader, no use of pronouns or y/n, big dick gojo, gojo likes embarrassing reader
MDNI | SMUT UNDER CUT
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Somehow, you’ve ended up in Gojo’s fancy apartment… the ‘somehow’ is, he is one of your closest friends and the only person you could ask for help. It had already been a long day when you came home to a hole in your ceiling and a bath – that isn’t yours but the floors above – in your apartment, you wanted to give up on life. Your apartment was wet and some of your stuff had water damage.
Maybe if you weren’t so distraught and just wanting somewhere to stay, you would’ve asked someone else but you decided to call Gojo and while he was more than happy to accommodate you, temporary living with him has been… troublesome.
It’s not so much as what he’s been doing but how you’re feeling, you feel self-conscious and too aware of yourself. Constantly wondering if it’s okay that you’re here, that you’re sitting on his couch or using his kitchen. He goes away for days at a time and yet you still worry about whether or not it’s okay you’re here.
You don’t bug him too much with it, you know that can get annoying, asking for constant reassurance but you’re worried that you’re overstaying your welcome. Especially when your building manager keeps calling and telling you fixes will take longer than expected. At this rate, you might just have to live elsewhere.
Another call like that had just come in and when you walk back into the living room and plonk down on the couch next to Gojo, he can immediately tell you’re feeling disheartened, “Not ready yet?”
“I don’t even know if they’ve started yet,” you sigh, kicking your feet a little in your frustration, “I’m really sorry, Gojo,” you lean back into the couch more, head resting on the back of it.
“I’m not worried about it,” he hums, crossed leg bouncing slightly, “Stay as long as you like, it’s nice having someone here when I come home,” he leans his head back on the couch too but turns to look at you.
Turning your head, you meet his gaze, “Are you sure? I don’t want to overstay my welcome,” your brows pull together, “I can always find another place to stay, honestly, I won’t be offended if you’re sick of me… I don’t want to inconvenience you.”
He scoffs, “What inconvenience? You barely make a mess and move around the place like it’s made of glass,” he’s making fun of you a little, trying to get you to relax more, “You should chill out and get a bit more comfortable, it seems like you might be here for a while yet,” he shrugs easily, not at all worried about you staying.
You intake a breath, “Yeah but I–”
“–Plus, where else would you stay? I’m like… your only friend,” he snickers.
Frowning at him, you defend, “That’s not true and you know it!”
“Yeah? Then why was I your first call?” He’s smug.
Looking away, you mumble, “You have no way of knowing that.”
“Ah, but I think your reaction gave it away,” he chuckles, poking your cheek with his finger.
“I wonder if it’s too late to ask Shoko for her couch,” you grumble, ignoring him.
“Nooo~” he pouts, “Don’t leave, you’re such a good guest, I’m sorry for saying you have no friends.”
You roll your eyes at him, “Do you ever get tired of yourself,” you ask, side-eyeing him.
He smiles big, “Never.”
If Gojo were being honest with you, he’d admit he likes your company, he likes coming home and hearing you patter around his apartment, and he likes that you trusted him enough to call him when you needed help. He likes that he was the first person you called because he wants you to rely on him, he wants to feel wanted and needed by you. It’s just a shame a bathtub had to fall through your ceiling for it to happen.
He's not even mad that your building manager is downright atrocious at his job because that just means he gets to have more time with you.
⸝⸝⸝
You’re in his home… alone, just for tonight. Gojo said he had ‘super important and super-secret’ things to attend to, so you’re choosing to be scandalous and instead of reading your current novel in your room, you’re reading it on the couch.
Under a blanket and snuggled into Gojo’s nice couch is about as close to comfortable as you get these days. His living room is nice and you like it out here, though you tend to shy away from main areas when he’s home, afraid of disturbing his peace.
The book is in depth, the scenes heating up quickly, you quietly read, flicking the pages slowly, savouring the tension. It’s not often that you read stuff like this but you’re getting invested, finding a good book with plot and porn is hard to come by and you’re finding yourself getting more and more invested.
Gojo’s voice from behind you is a scare you weren’t ready for, “Wouldn’t it feel better to actually get fucked instead of just reading about it?”
“Fuck! Geez, Gojo, way to scare someone to death,” you huff, not at all ready for his comparably loud voice in the quiet room.
He’s leaning over the back of the couch, apparently reading over your shoulder, “Didn’t mean to scare you.”
“Yeah, that’s why you were lurking behind me for so long… because you didn’t mean to scare me,” you crane your neck to look up at him, your eyes showing your clear scepticism.
“Let’s change the topic back to how you’re reading porn out in the open,” he smiles.
You squint at him, “It’s a sex scene, not a porn book.”
He leans in a little closer, “Could’ve fooled me.”
“You’re nosy,” you accuse.
He clarifies, “I am curious.” He adds, “You were so involved in your book that you didn’t even notice my presence… now I know why,” his eyebrows wiggle at you.
You shoot your head back up so you don’t have to look at him, “Why are you back anyways? I thought you weren’t gonna be home until tomorrow?”
“I’m just simply too good,” he boasts. You grumble at him but pick up your blanket and stomp off to the spare room with your book, he calls out to you, “Don’t be like that, come hang out with me.”
“No,” you cement, feeling overly embarrassed. You know he was just kidding but you can’t help the way your skin feels all hot and the bit of shame that creeps into your bones.
⸝⸝⸝
When you’re in bed, you don’t continue reading, the moment ruined and now you just want to crawl into a ball and die. It’s too early to sleep though, so you end up just lying there lifelessly. Some time passes before Gojo knocks on your door, waiting for you to answer to see if you’re still awake.
“Go away,” you pout out. He opens the door at the sound of your voice, “That’s like… the exact opposite of going away.”
“I know,” he shuffles over to the bed and flops down next to you, making himself comfortable, “But I wanna talk about earlier.”
You groan, “Ugh, that’s like the last thing I wanna talk about with you right now.”
“You sure? Because there are plenty of other things I could think to talk about instead,” he smiles evilly, he sits up slightly, resting his weight on his forearm to watch over you.
Flat on your back, you scowl up at him, “Maybe we should talk about how lovely the weather has been lately.”
“It’s been raining for a week straight,” he reminds.
You cross your arms over your chest, “…Maybe I like the rain.”
“I am sorry,” he changes the topic.
“It doesn’t matter,” you try brushing it off.
“I made you uncomfortable and I didn’t mean to,” he looks away in thought, “I wasn’t trying to pry, I just wanted to know what you were so interested in and when I saw–”
“–Okay! It’s fine, I’m not mad.”
“It would be understandable if you were,” he flops onto his back again.
You turn to look at him, “If you’re still feeling bad, make me breakfast in the morning.”
“Look at that! I think all the guilt I had just left my body,” he smiles cheekily, also turning to look at you.
You can’t help the way your eyes drop to his lips, just for a second, you didn’t mean anything by it… you think. Gojo sees it because of course he does, he doesn’t miss a single thing and he decides to push the limits of your friendship, just a little bit.
He speaks again, “You know… I am curious about something though.”
Unamused, you raise a brow, “Oh yeah? And what’s that?”
“Does it do anything? I mean… reading porn like that? Does it actually effect you?” He knows what he’s doing and he knows the answer to his question, he’s not as dense as he pretends he is.
“Invasive question,” you squint at him before letting your face relax, “I can always read it to you and you can see for yourself,” you joke.
His smile grows, “Fantastic idea!”
Your eyes widen, “No! No it’s not! I was kidding, I’m not reading porn to you Gojo.”
“Boo,” he jeers.
“You’re so weird,” you sigh.
He offers you an alternative, “I’ll settle for an answer to my question if you don’t want to read me porn.”
This man is getting on your nerves, “Who would want to do that in the first place?”
“Me, I will read porn to you right now if you like,” he offers.
“Okay let me rephrase, what kind of sane person would want that?” You’re hoping to guide him away from this topic.
“Ouch, words hurt,” you can see his face light up with his joke, “And arouse, apparently.”
“What do you mean apparently?” You ask, “I haven’t even answered your question, very presumptuous of you.”
“Yeah but if the answer was a simple ‘no’ you would’ve just said that and moved on,” he looks proud of himself right now, “Sometimes… not giving an answer is almost as telling as giving one.”
“Yeah, whatever,” you move your head to face the ceiling again, “Get a load of Socrates over here.” You sigh, “What do you want to hear? That it does arouse me, that I get sooo wet reading porn on your couch while you’re gone?”
He’s quiet, at a loss for words really, which is shocking to you. His prolonged silence has you looking back to him. His eyes look a little darker than before, his gaze far away. You’re starting to feel bad, like maybe you’re the one who took it too far now, “Gojo, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you–”
“–No… go on,” he encourages, “Tell me all about what you do when I’m not home,” his eyes glimmer.
“I– nothing really– I’m not…” you’re starting to heat up, his gaze on you not helping, “I’m not being creepy while you’re gone…”
“I didn’t say you were being creepy,” he moves so he’s being supported by his forearm again, your eyes follow him as he ends up almost hovering over you, “I said I wanted to know what else you do when I’m not home.”
You hesitate, “This might not be–”
“You don’t have to tell me, if I’m being pushy, if you’re uncomfortable… tell me, I’ll leave you alone,” he wants this bad but he’s not going to force you, he wants you to want it too.
“It’s not… I am uncomfortable but only because,” your thighs press together slightly, seeking pressure, you’re uncomfortable because he’s turning you on and he’s not done a damn thing.
“…Because…”
“Ugh, Gojo,” your hands cover your face, trying to hide yourself from his eyes, “Because you’re…” you mumble, trailing off.
He leans in a little closer, smug smile loud in his voice, “I’m sorry, what?”
You peak through your fingers, “…You’re…turning me on…”
“I still didn’t get that,” he feigns ignorance, he heard you just fine, “Maybe move your hands properly?”
“You’re being mean,” you mutter from behind your hands, “I know you heard me.”
His gaze lowers, scanning your body, taking in how your breathing has sped up, how your thighs clench together, fighting the urge to rub against each other. “No idea what you’re on about, I can’t hear a thing from behind your hands.”
You drop your arms with a huff, “You’re really quite unkind, you know?”
“I think I’m perfectly kind,” his tone is jovial, happy with your acquiescence, “Now repeat what you said, I wanna hear it loud and clear.”
You’re gonna hit him, you wanna hit him. Taking a breath, your hands reach out for his face and move him so he’s looking you dead in the eyes, “Gojo… you’re making me really wet and needy,” your tone is coquettish, “I need your help, please.”
His eyes brighten, deliciously satisfied with your words and confession, “Tell me what you do when I’m not here then.”
You stare at him, you thought you had one up him but he readjusts alarmingly well, you’ll just have to double down, “I lay on your nice, big couch and I fingerfuck myself, hoping I get to cum before you get home.”
“I already like coming home to you,” he leans into you, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, “I think I’d like coming home to the sounds of you playing with your wet cunt even more.”
Oh god, he might kill you, he’s clearly much better at this than you are, his words have your eyes glazing over slightly. Just his presence is suffocating, “Gojo, please… touch me?”
He pulls back, “Hmm, giving up already? Where’s your fighting spirit?”
“You’re an unbearable tease…”
“Tease… yes. Unbearable? I don’t agree, you’ve put up with me for this long,” he all but singsongs, he’s so smug – you want to get up and walk away from him but you don’t have the strength.
“Either kiss me or I’m changing my mind and pretending that tonight didn’t happen,” you glare at him.
His smile doesn’t falter, “Now who’s unkind?” You make a show of trying to get up but he pushes you back down into the mattress, his lips finding yours. You moan into his kiss and he huffs against you, “Open your mouth more,” he speaks against you.
You do as he says and his tongue slips into your mouth, he licks at you and you tentatively meet him half-way. If kissing someone felt this good surely you’d have remembered it, so why can’t you remember a single kiss that feels as good as this one.
He crawls onto you more, your hands move to find his shoulders before wrapping around his neck, tugging him closer. He groans into the kiss and you swallow it down, your head is swimming, he sounds hot, he feels hot, he’s making you feel hot.
He pulls back, “Fuck, I gotta touch you, let me touch you.”
“Mhm, yeah, please,” you’re all too eager to agree, not missing the thinly veiled desperation in his words.
His hand is quick to snake down your body and into your pants, slipping past the waist band of your underwear. A shiver runs down your spine as his fingers carefully part your folds and slide through you’re very wet cunt. Gojo groans, he wasn’t expecting you to be this aroused, his head swimming with just how slick it must feel to fuck balls deep inside your pussy.
His dick twitches in his pants, he’s been horny since he started this stupid conversation, not that you noticed, too self-conscious to take note of the semi he’d been sporting while teasing you. Fuck, he needs more, his finger moves to your entrance, his eyes watching your expression carefully as he slips it inside you.
Your brows turn up and a soft sigh leaves your lungs at his finger entering you, he doesn’t move straight away, his thumb instead rubbing into your clit. He can feel the way your walls twitch around his single digit; he might go crazy before this is over.
“Gojo~ more,” you want more, you wanna feel full.
“Anything for you,” he teases but pulls his single finger back, easing in another with it.
They curl when reaching their hilt, caressing inside you, the pleasure makes you whine and your stomach jump. He pumps his fingers languidly, enjoying the view, delighting in how you squirm and whimper underneath him from just a couple fingers.
He looks down to his hand underneath your pants, your thighs shake slightly, “That’s cute,” he murmurs.
He pulls his hand away from you, “Wait– Gojo what are–”
Laughing at how frantic you are, he reassures, “–Shh, it’s fine, I just wanna see how your pretty pussy sucks my fingers back in is all.”
You feel like you could faint, he’s so crude and for what reason? Just to embarrass you? Or to turn you on? Or is it just a bonus that he manages to do both at the same time?
Your pants and underwear are tugged off at once, he kneels between your legs and very lewdly pulls them wide apart, his eyes greedily watching the way your cunt opens up for him. He salivates at the way your pussy glimmers for him, cunt drooling from your tight hole, down your ass cheeks and onto the bed.
He wastes no more time and fills you back up with his long fingers, his mind registering that you got wetter, fuck you can get even wetter. The realisation hits him like a ton of bricks and he has a feeling he knows exactly what did it.  
A grin on his face, he asks, “You know you could get this wet? Or are you shocked?” It’s not rhetorical, and to demonstrate what he means, his fingers speed up and you can hear the loud and obscene noises of your wet cunt sucking them back in.
You clench around his fingers at his words and his smile grows, now fully understanding the effect he has on you. The delight he takes in it could almost be diabolical, the enjoyment he’s getting out of knowing he can be a little mean or lewd with his words and it will only turn you is immense.
“Come on, I want an answer when I ask a question,” he reminds you.
You gasp as his fingers crook up, purposefully making it harder for you to answer, “I –hah– I didn’t knooww–”
And you didn’t, not to this extent, it’s mortifying, how much your cunt gushes for him. You’re ashamed and also… so ridiculously turned on. His voice doesn’t help, not only the content of his words but just the sound of him, it’s setting you on edge.
“I find that quite shocking, only realising just how turned on you can get and it’s for your good friend? How scandalous,” he tsks at you, his words holding no malice, he truly is amused by how things have unfolded.
“Stop t–teasing me, Gojo,” you frown at him but it’s not nearly as effective as it normally would be. To him you look like a cute mess who’s making a mess on his fingers and spare bed sheets.
His thumb presses into your clit again, steady pressure rounding it, “I like teasing you though~”
Your head tilts back, your eyes unable to focus on anything, you’re going to cum, you’re so fucking close, you just need him to not stop, “Gojo, please, d–don’t stop –ngh– please, please, please please pleaseppleaseplease,” you’re begging him to show mercy – pity, you don’t care what you just want him to make you cum.
“You think I’d be so mean as to not let you cum?” he asks like it’s not definitely within his character to do something so cruel, “I’d never deprive myself of the sight.”
Your toes curl and your head presses back into the pillows hard, your eyes rolling into the back of your head. It feels like your stomach does flips as you moan out for Gojo, your hands clutching the sheets as you shake pitifully with the force of your orgasm.
He massages your walls through it, fucking his fingers in and out of you steadily, letting you ride out your high. He keeps going even as you reach overstimulation, he likes seeing you twitch and shake with your sensitivity, makes his cock leak into his pants at how you clench pathetically around his fingers as he strokes in and out of you as he pleases.
“Gojo… is too much,” you mumble weakly.
He hums at you but pulls his fingers from your sopping cunt, he holds his two fingers up and pulls them apart, watching the way your cum coats them and connects them by sticky strings. Fuck it’s a sight to behold to him, he shoves those two fingers right into his mouth, sucking them clean and savouring the taste.
Pulling his digits out of his mouth, he comments, “I think… if I didn’t wanna stick my dick into you as badly as I do… I’d shove my tongue inside your little pussy and eat you until you came again and again and–”
You’re gonna burst into flames, “–Do you get off on your own words or something?”
“I’m not the one getting off on my words,” he grins knowingly.
The words you were going to retort with die on your tongue as he suddenly tugs his shirt off, exposing his bare skin to you. How are you meant to reply with anything smart when he’s constantly able to throw you off kilter, you can’t win against him.
He undoes his belt and nods towards you, “Take your shirt off.”
“…Bossy,” you pout out.
He stands up to undress completely, “You into that?”
“No.”
“Could’ve fooled me, you take directions so well,” he smirks, clearly poking fun at how you took off your shirt as soon as he asked you to. He gets back on the bed and taps your thigh, “Hands and knees,” you look at him with an unamused expression and he tacks on, “Pleeeasseeee?”
You get up and spin round onto your hands and knees, feeling vulnerable like this, extra so because you can’t see what he’s doing. One of his hands slides from your lower back up your spine, gentle pressure behind his touch, encouraging you to push your upper half into the bed, cheek pressed against the mattress by the time he reaches your neck.
“Yeahhh, you take directions so well,” he means it as a compliment but it feels degrading.
Soft clicking noises of him fisting his cock fill the room, he’s spreading his precum all along the shaft, collecting it at the tip. He needs to be slick if you’re gonna take him, though he figures you’ve done most of the work on that end already.
You wiggle your hips back at him, feeling impatient and dazed from your previous orgasm. He chuckles at your eagerness but doesn’t keep you waiting, you’re far too enticing for him to tease any longer. He swipes his dick through your folds a few times first, letting you feel him and also let your cunt drool onto him a bit.
He wants to slam into you quickly, he’s so sick of waiting, he’s harder than he’s been in his life and he’s itching to have your pussy swallow him whole but he doesn’t want to hurt you. If he fucks this up he’ll never forgive himself, he needs to give you the best dicking of your life so that you keep coming back to him for more.
His initial thrust is shallow and barely gets the head of his cock inside you, this is going to be a slow process. He’ll have to take his time, not that he particularly minds, the longer he takes, the longer he gets to spend fucking you. This is a responsible decision on Gojo’s behalf, unfortunately for him, you’re not quite so patient. You’re horny beyond belief and have the sudden urge for him to be as deep as he can possibly get, you want to feel him in your guts, you fucking need it.
Bracing yourself, you spread your legs apart further and push back, his cock slipping deeper suddenly, the stretch has a delicious feeling crawling up your spine, or maybe that’s Gojo’s hand. His hand reaches around your neck and pulls your back to his front, a whimper tumbling from you as you slide down his cock further.
He breathes against you, “Desperate thing aren’t you?” He nips your ear and then trails his lips down to your neck, leaving marks in his wake.  
His hips thrust up, forcing you to take more of him, “Ah~ sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry~ I think it’s very endearing,” his voice is dreamy, “Very flattering, willing to hurt yourself just to take me?”
Ah, of course he’d find a way to boost his own ego through all this, “–ngh– You really do love yourself, huh?”
You can feel his big smile against your skin, “Not as much as I love this pussy,” he thrusts inside you deeper, punctuating his words with his hips.
You can’t do much else but moan and take it like this, though, you’re pretty happy to take it like this. Your slick gushes from your cunt and leaks down his shaft. The mess you’re making on the bed is beyond lewd and you have no idea if you should be more embarrassed of the state you’re in. You’re not here though, you’re elsewhere, head in the clouds as your eyes glaze over.
“Aww~ you’ve gone stupid and I’m not even fully in yet,” he coos at you.
He drops you back down onto the bed in your previous position, face buried into the blankets with your ass in the air, back arched deeply. Gojo thinks he has enough room to slip in completely now so he does, when he does, he knocks something so deep inside you that your cunt quivers and you make the smallest, fucked out sound.
It makes him moan deeply, your pussy gripping him for dear life as you sound out gasped whimpers, you’re a fucking mess in more than one way and he’s gonna paint your walls white before too long if he doesn’t get it together. Your cunt is sinfully tight, snug and warm around him, spilling out around where he’s stuffed you full. Your eyes are glassy and fucked out and you look like you might cry, drool dribbles from the corner of your mouth from how deep you can feel him.
Tentatively, he pulls back, his thrusts initially shallow, wanting to get you used to the motion, you really are not capable of any coherent thought, everything coming from you right now is downright pornographic, you don’t even think you could string together enough words to beg him to let you cum.
He’s ruining any future sex you may have and he’s barely started fucking you, his rhythm, is slow but constant. The pressure you feel slowly building in your abdomen makes your pussy cry on his cock.
“You literally have–” he cuts himself off with his own gasped whine, “–the most perfect cunt, holy fuck.” What he did in life to deserve sticking his dick inside you, he has no clue but he’ll keep doing it if it means fucking your tight hole.
You chant his name at him, it’s all you’re really able to do, in your brain fog you spill out, “S’toru sobig, you’re –hng– so deep~” You can’t think.
His hands grab your hips tight, the pressure bruising, his thrusts are speeding up, growing frantic, desperate. He’s fucking you like it’ll be the last time he ever gets to be inside you. One hand reaches around and lands on your clit, furiously rubbing at it, the stimulation has you biting back a cry as tears slip from the corner of your eyes.
Your pussy spasms and twitches on him violently, you’re so sensitive, in general and to him. His hand pulls you back against him with every thrust in, the resounding smacking of skin on skin and your sloppy cunt are like music to his ears. You’re so messy, such a beautiful and delightful mess, he wonders just how fucking messy he could make you; he’ll need to remember this thought if he ever gets another chance to have you… though he’s probably never going to be able to think of anything else after this.
The muscles in your legs are quivering, you’re not going to be able to hold yourself up for much longer, not with how he’s fucking you. You’re going to cum and then promptly pass out, your vision is dotted and you’re barely able to comprehend your surroundings, the only thing you hear is Gojo’s moans.
“Need you to cum for me, now,” he urges, his words hissed through his teeth, fighting off his own orgasm.
His fingers on your clit speed up, he slaps your clit once and harshly, the sudden contact makes you shake. Your orgasm comes out of nowhere, your legs would’ve given out if he weren’t holding you up, you’re actually just crying now, the force of your orgasm shaking you to your core, it’s so overwhelming that it’s all you can feel.
Gojo moves both his hands to your ass cheeks and spreads them, looking at how he’s plowing into you over and over, watching how you grip him tight, trying to milk his cock. The sight of this, of your pussy clenching around him, has him cumming, he bites out your name before stuffing his dick all the way inside you. His cum dumping itself deep inside, his cock twitching as he spills. The amount he cums is immense, leaking out around the base of him and down onto the sheets, the mess you’ve both made only growing.
He stays seated inside you for a while, letting you both come down before even attempting to move. When he does slip out of you, it’s with a hiss, he holds you up for a bit longer, watching the way his cum seeps out of you, his eyes transfixed on how much he came inside of you, how much of him you took. He’s addicted.
Laying your lower half back onto the bed gently, he flops down next to you, evening out his breathing more. He turns his head to the side to look at you, your eyes closed and a stupid smile on your face, tear stains on your cheeks and a little bit of drool still present in the corner of your mouth.
He reaches out and wipes it way with his thumb, “Fucked dumb taken to a new level, huh?”
“You’ve ruined me,” you mutter back, not really paying attention.
A cocky grin takes its place on his face, “In what way?”
“S’many,” your words slur together.
He jokes, “Better than your book though right?”
You can only hum your confirmation, all your limbs are heavy, you might die, you’re fighting it though, the unconsciousness that’s threatening to take over.
Gojo moves closer to you, kissing your arm, “Hey, sleep, I’ll take care of you,” he murmurs into your skin.
That’s the last thing you hear before you’re dead asleep.
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PLAGIARISM NOT CONDONED | REPOSTS NOT AU
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simpjaes · 10 days
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HYPER-SEXUAL (s,jy)
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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. 
4K notes · View notes
ncteez · 10 days
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NYMPHO [m.l]
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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 [@simpjaes] 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. 
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hiii omg I love your stuff!! my eyeballs popped out my head when I saw you're writing for bucky I'm sooo head over heels for him. he look so fine in the new thunderbolts run😩
could I maybe request a lil bucky sneaking into your room at night in between his missions or smth for a quickie? 🙈 even though he's busy more than half the time, he still finds a moment or two to spend a heated moment with you; bc he misses you so much and can barely keep his hands off
tysm in advance omg omg
hii angel!! aah thank you sm🫠 tehe I know!?? love it, thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌
FIFTEEN MINUTES.
bucky barnes x fem!reader
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word count. 1115
warnings. 18+ only !! tiny bit of prep (f receiving) unprotected pinv, creampie. mdni
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Nights at the compound were far from quiet; the constant opening and closing of doors, scattered footsteps, echoed voices - everyone on different sleep schedules.
You were in your room settling down for the night, lying in bed and listening to music, scrolling through your phone when you hear the sound of scuffling from behind your door - the silhouette of booted feet appearing under the gap. 
Unplugging your earphones, you sit up, noticing the familiar leather from under the slither of light. You fling off your covers and rush for the door, face lighting up when you see who is on the other side. 
"Bucky?!" you blurt out, clearly happy to see him. "What are you doing back so soon?" you ask, tone elated. 
His smile widens, grinning boyishly at you. "Came back before heading out again," he shrugs casually, speaking as if it were all that easy. "...was missing you," he admits, eyes diverting away bashfully. 
Your head tilts to the side, nose scrunching from his sweet confession. "I missed you," you widen your door, silently inviting him inside. "Only a little bit," you add, expression mirroring his.
Bucky steps into your room and shuts the door behind himself, closing the distance between you with a brisk step forward - leaning in to kiss you, soft and sweet. His hands settle on your waist, fingers sliding under the fabric of your t-shirt to feel your skin - flesh warm and comforting against his.
You rest your hands over the sides of his face, palms cupping his cheeks as the kiss grows more desperate. Carnal. "How long til you leave?" you ask, voice muffled against his lips, your words sounding needy. 
"Fifteen minutes." 
He walks you backwards, heading for your bed, his hands eagerly roaming you as he lays you against the edge of the mattress, slotting his lower half between your spread legs. He hovers above you, his cock growing hard and strained behind his pants, bulge nudging up into that warm spot between your thighs. 
"We can make that work," you reply, a slight whine to your tone.
He hums, far too entranced by how you feel against him to respond coherently. The rush of blood swelling to his cock, leaving his brain. Bucky peels from your grasp and stands between your spread legs, looking down at the lewd image of you - lips bruised and plumped, eyes half-lidded, t-shirt exposing the underneath of your pretty tits. 
He loved how you usually looked, but this was just on another level - you obscenely desperate for him and him only. Your eager eyes following his every move, looking over him like you couldn't get enough.
Your gaze hones in on his hands, watching him undo the button of his pants, his fingers slipping down the front, pulling his hardened dick from behind the waistband. You follow suit, urgently pulling down your pyjama bottoms and flinging them aside - leaving you in only an oversized tee, lying near naked under his fully clothed self.
His left metal hand takes hold of his cock, leisurely rolling it in his palm as his other reaches between your thighs - fleshed middle finger sliding up and down the slit of your pussy. Fingerpad circling over your clit ever so deliciously, mindlessly rubbing the sensitive nub.
"We don't have long, James," you say softly, hand reaching for his wrist, fingers wrapping around his meaty lower arm.
He slips off his jacket, revealing a black compression top underneath. He stands between your legs, blissfully unaware of how good he looks right now - tight, short-sleeved top, black combat pants pooling around his thighs, pretty dick exposed and on display. 
"Wish we had longer," he murmurs, itching himself closer.
"You're back in two days, right?" you say, instinctively adjusting your hips - widening your thighs to accustom his frame.
He pushes his head through the slick of your cunt, coating the tip in a soft, creaming sheen. He hums in response, his thumb resting atop his cock as he guides himself into you, easing through your fluttering walls. 
He leans over you once more, weight anchored on his hands either side of your head, dick sinking into you so nicely - just you taking him so well.
You reach up to cup his cheeks, holding his face in your hands as you maintain his gaze, your features growing pliant under his attention - eyes softening, brows knitting, expression mirroring his. You meet in the middle, lips clashing eagerly. 
"Can't you pretend to be sick?" you murmur against his mouth, speaking desperately.
He slowly begins to wind his hips into you, cock consuming you from the inside out. "I can try to get out of it," he replies, his voice hoarse and strained from the way you wrap yourself around him.
"Please do," you whisper, latching your lips back onto his - kissing him hard, moans muffling.
"Why?" he whispers back, a soft smile lining his lips. "Do you miss me?"
"No." 
"No?" 
You faintly shake your head, eyes playful and unconvincing. "No." 
He plays along. "Neither do I."
Bucky continues like that, fucking into you, his leisured pace growing rushed by the second, winding into you more ruthlessly than he would've liked. Usually, he would take the time to work you up - make love to you, kiss and touch and caress you, but with the minutes growing shorter and shorter, less and less, he had to switch it up. 
It doesn't take long for you both to cum, your climax hitting you hard; his cock almost choking you, repeatedly knocking the air out of your lungs. His release follows mere moments later, spilling his warm, thick load - sloppily pumping it into you. 
His forehead rests against yours, both of your breathing erratic, slowly beginning to even out. "Sorry, my love. I got to go," he whispers apologeticly, pressing a kiss to your hairline. 
Sweetly nodding as you push his stray hairs back, looking at him with a knowing expression he's grown familiar with. 
He kisses you once more and peels himself from you, standing back between your thighs - dressing back up. He looks down at you, eyes raking over you as if to savour the image, memorising you before he goes. 
Adjusting your t-shirt, you follow after him, the patter of your bare feet trailing after him like a shadow. He reaches for the handle and turns back to face you, his soft, gentle eyes filled with warmth. 
"I'll call you when I land," he smiles, speaking like he's reading your mind. 
"Be careful, yeah?" you reach up, meeting his initiation for kiss.
"I always am."
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starcrossedreaders · 5 months
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A/N: Tumblr is LACKING in Toge headcanons and over all fics, so I'm here to help the cause. These headcanons do have NSFW under the cut and will be marked with '✥' so MDNI!!! Dividers are from benkeibear on Tumblr
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✦ StreamerToge! is the type to make a whole ass living off of streaming with a schedule and everything. He has his whole gaming room that gives off a minimalist white vibe with posters and figurines everywhere.
✦ StreamerToge! Who keeps his streaming schedule up on a whiteboard somewhere in the house so you see it and know.
✦ StreamerToge! Who begs for snacks when he games.
Toge <3: Please, just some cheese 🤲🏽 You: Seriously cheese? Toge <3: Mommy?🧎‍♂️🧎‍♂️🧎‍♂️ You: fine. "Yay, chat I'm getting cheese."
✦ StreamerToge! He finds ways to slip you into the conversation with chat, like he could be mid Val game and he's rambling.
"Yea no, I don't know how I pulled them when my only real defining trait is the grind on Val." "Like no seriously, they are just with me for the carry."
✦ StreamerToge! Who (if you played games too) would beg for you to join him with his games, even if you don't stream yourself he still enjoys the quality time together.
✦ StreamerToge! If you aren't the type to play games he would for sure put like a small couch, day bed, or chair somewhere just so you can spend time with him while he games. He calls it the Y/N corner because he would keep your favorite blankets, a plushie, and maybe a snack drawer somewhere near your spot.
Scrolling on your phone, you walked towards Toge's gaming room. He's been streaming for a few hours and you thought it was finally time to join him. Opening the room door, his laughs flooded out of the room before you stepped in and closed the door behind you again. Toge didn't notice you step in and sit down in your little corner till his chat started blowing up. divinedawgs: RIP to chat Jennifer4lifers: is that who I think it is⁉⁉⁉⁉ strongerinurmom: still amazes me that bro could pull 3panda: didn't you literally get rejected on your last stream? strongerinurmom: stfu sakibara: naw I'm with stronger how did bro pull at 10 while be a 4 Toge turned around to see you sitting down while scrolling on your phone, his smile could light up the whole room as he took his headset off to around in his chair. "Hey, my love." He pushed his chair towards you leaving his current match behind. Looking up from your phone you smile as Toge leans down to scatter kisses across your face. "I love you," he mumbled over your lips before he kissed you. "I love you too." divinedawgs: please turn your camera off when you do that shit strongerinurmom: bro is fr rubbing it in Jennifer4lifers: jealous fr fr
✦ StreamerToge! Even when you act annoyed to bring him snacks you still interrupt his streams to bring him dinner
✥ StreamerToge! If you get annoyed with his constant streaming and lack of attention you would definitely give him that under-the-desk support to hopefully get him to get off and give you attention.
You supported your boyfriend and his successful career with streaming. What you didn't support was how much of his time he's put into it recently. His excuse? "I need to give the fans good content before the holidays, it helps keep money coming in. I swear once I'm done I'm all yours." That stupid excuse is what led you to your current situation. Tears ran down your face as the tip of Toge's dick kissed the back of your throat. Looking up past your lashes was a sight that would bring you to your knees if you weren't already there. Toge squeezes his eyes shut as he throws his head back trying not to groan. His bottom lip was caged between his teeth and he opened his eyes to try to focus on the game in front of him. Gagging you pulled your head up, leaving a trail of pre-cum and saliva mixture from your lips to his raging red tip. He let out a big sigh, taking the time to try to compose himself, but what type of girlfriend would you be if you didn't him finish? A cruel one that's for sure. Despite the palm of his hand trying to push your head back you continued to hollow out your cheeks and bob your head up and down chasing for his release.
✥ StreamerToge! If you streamed with him, or just in general he definitely seems the type to try to convince you to stream with one of those Bluetooth vibrators.
You've never regretted agreeing to one of Toge's idea till now. The shorts you had on were soaked, along with your chair. Your thighs twitched once more as another orgasm ran through your body. Black and white dots danced around your vision and the game in front of you faded in and out of your vision. Before you could slump your body you could hear your friends through your headset. "Seriously Y/N are you sure you're okay?" opening your eyes they roamed around till they landed on your second monitor where you had the chat pulled up. Jennifer4lifers: OH NO ARE YOU SURE YOU'RE OKAY Y/N?!?!? sakibara: Girl is going through it rn strongerinurmom: calling for medical help as we SPEAK 3panda: get help divinedawgs: bruh riceballwh0re: poor baby :(((
✥ StreamerToge! He definitely tells his stream that he has to take a fat shit when he is actually running to your guy's shared room to fit in a quickie before his next match.
✥ StreamerToge! Hot and sloppy make-out sessions before each one of his streams, he claims that it gives him the luck he needs to win his games.
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A/N: damn it's been a long ass time since I have written in a creative matter, so hopefully you guys enjoyed this. Requests are open but they might take a while to get to so please keep that in mind. I hope you enjoyed the new JJK content I hope to be writing more soon!
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motheyes · 2 years
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my body hurts so bad from cleaning cupboards
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itstheghostofmypast · 2 months
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Must Be Love
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Corporate Worker San x (F)Reader
Summary: Love, is an emotion so deep that once earned, it could change lives. Unfortunately, neither of the two had ever had the opportunity to feel love. Well, maybe he had, but having his heart thrown back at him, made him realise that the corporate world was far too busy, far too bitter and far too cold for a hardworking boy from Namhae- it was about time he accepted the bitter taste of reality.
Genre: Hurt/Comfort/Fluff
Warnings: Languages/ Insecurities (majorly of being alone)
Word Count: 21k
Est. Read Time: 1 hr
Rating: nc-17
Networks: @cromernet @k-labels
Banner: @cafekitsune
A/N: Only God and @edenesth know how this was supposed to be a timestamp, that turned into a oneshot that is so long- that I- I swear I don't even know why San has me in a chokehold.
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"All I'm saying is that speed dating does work for some people." The brunette claimed entering the elevator with the taller man who shook his head with a pout, pressing the parking button. Sure, speed dating worked for a few people, but those few people were rarely introverts, moreover, he did not have time for love. Love was a luxury he could not afford, especially after his last encounter with the villain, he believed that distancing himself from it would keep him safe, and keep him from hurting.
"Yeah...just not my thing," he mumbled, stepping out onto the concrete floor, their polished shoes scraping against the cement, echoing in the enormous parking lot. Sighing he looked over the fence, frowning at the jam below, "I hate Mondays", muttering to himself he turned to wave off Yeosang who smiled at him, before ducking down to enter his car, lowering the window once the engine was switched on, "I'm just saying San, you can't let her get to you forever."
"See you tomorrow Yeosang." with one final wave his friend drove off, as the man himself, got into his car, buckled up and decided to speed out, it didn't matter anyway, he'd be stuck in traffic but at least it'll be quick, it was already 9 pm, the sooner he could go home, the sooner he'd be in bed, ready to succumb to the solitude and silence at his apartment. 
Unfortunately, by the time he arrived, it was already 11 pm. Cursing under his breath he walked out of the elevator, so exhausted, so tired, so done with everything. A constant ringing in his ears only added to the discomfort, as he squinted at the hallway lights. Making his way down his corridor he reached his door until pausing, turning his head to find someone sitting at the door next to his, hugging her knees- was she...crying? All too suddenly the ringing disappeared, the lights around him became much bearable, the dull greys around him morphing into something else- San, stop. Clearing his throat, he looked at her, trying to get her attention, which he only got once he 'fake' coughed.
His curious gaze met with glossy doe eyes, and a tear-stained face stared up at him. Unknown to him, she had just come to the realisation that God really did do people favours, and one of those favours was creating a being like the one standing above her, with a gaze so soft she could almost feel it, his features sharp as a feline and not to mention those shoulders, damn what a beauty. She watched him blink at her slowly before turning around and- oh. He went inside.... wow.
With a snort, she shook her head-that was anti-climactic. Of course, why would anyone even want to deal with her, especially someone like him?
San closed the door behind him, slowly walked over to the console table, and stopped to stare at his reflection, God he looked like a mess, no wonder she was staring at him like that. Running his fingers through his hair, he sleeked back his bangs, trying to calm down his nest of hair before fixing his tie and opening the door to find her in the same place, walking over to her as he cleared his throat.
"Excuse me Ma'am-" he began, pausing when she looked up at him with a frown, man, he wasn't good-looking, but he wasn't that ugly either.
"I lost my key." 
"You- what?" quirking a brow he stared at her before looking at the numerous bags and suitcases beside her, how exactly did he not notice these before? 
"I moved in today...lost my key and the landlord is out of town," mumbling she hugged her knees tighter looking away from him, frowning at the tiled floor, waiting for something, a backhanded compliment, an insult, a taunt, something to remind her of her ignorance and lack of competence. 
Sighing he rubbed his face, before staring at the door, looking at the lock pad, moving closer he stood right beside her, glancing down at her, though she was still staring ahead, frowning like a child put in time out shaking his head he began pressing the numbers on the keypad, resetting the door's lock- knowing this was no longer a used apartment, it had a generic code from number one to five, he was confused why the landlord had decided to not tell her this. On the other hand, this was common knowledge, but then again, he didn't know these things when he started, a fresh graduate with the hopes of stepping into the world with a will to change stuff- that is until the corporate world put him back in his place.
The beeping caught her attention, side eying him, most of her vision just comprised of his pant leg, craning her neck upwards, she met with the gaze of an angel, giving her a small smile as the light behind him glowed in all in angelic mercy. Was he...bipolar?
"I've reset it. Please change the passcode once you settle in."
With that he walked away, leaving her sitting there, grateful yet so confused, his calm demeanour just putting her anxiousness at bay. The soft click of his door brought her back to reality, clearing her throat she stood up, dusting her clothes she made her way to his door, clearing her throat, trying to fix her hair before ringing the doorbell.
San was almost done unbuttoning his shirt when the doorbell rang, as he paused, groaning in disdain the man glanced at the clock, it was almost midnight, what on earth did the world want from him now? Messily buttoning it back up he padded to the door barefoot, his tie hanging around his neck, annoyed at the pestering dinging of the bell as he swung the door open, glaring at whoever was rude enough to ruin his few moments of silence and bliss.
"Th-oh- sorry." she stammered, averting her gaze before bowing and thanking him, mumbling her name and scurrying away through her open door, slamming it shut, her things still outside. He stared at her, what a peculiar woman, what was her problem? Glancing down he realised most of his shirt was still unbuttoned- oh…well technically he was wearing a vest- shit did she think he was weird? A pervert? Great going Choi San. Sighing for the nth time of the night he closed the door, finally deciding to go to bed and forget whatever embarrassing things he had done tonight.
Leaning her ear against the door she weighed for it to close, praying to any entity out there that he did not assume she was weird or a perv. It's not like this was the first time she'd seen a man and technically he was still fully clothed so- God, Jongho was right, she's been single for too long. A good ten minutes later she cracked open the door, leaning out to glance at her neighbour's door, apartment number 404, well then, at least he was gone, she could pull in her stuff without any interruptions. 
.
"You traumatised- no, you harassed a woman," Yeosang mumbled, coat in hand as he entered the elevator, San following in behind, San who was also late today, San who had rushed to work today, forgetting both, his laptop at home and his coat.
"I did not." he sighed, staring at his reflection, he hadn't gotten much sleep last night - or any other of the previous nights for that matter. Usually, when he'd lay down, his body would be exhausted, but an hour in all he'd do was toss and turn restlessly, blanketed by something else, something heavy and blue, at this point he had no clue as to what to do. The room would just end up getting stuffy and within a few hours, he'd slip out of bed, have a cup of coffee, shower, change, try to eat something, anything so he could function and leave like he had a whole eight hours of sleep.
"Should've asked her how she lost the key though." the other man hummed, pressing the buttons of their floors, eying his friend who was now leaning his head against the wall, eyes closed with a pout.
"No."
"No?"
"No, she was already upset, who cares how she lost them." he sighed, straightening up once the door opened, "Didn't feel like adding salt to the wound."
"Aww...my stoic Mr.Choi is so considerate." he teased, patting the back of his friend who rolled his shoulders, before walking out, mumbling a, "I'll just take Mingi's jacket- don't bother coming by!' he turned around swiftly to point at Yeosang, who stood there behind the open doors, waving at him, "Whatever you say...." waiting for the doors too almost close for the punchline, "Perv."
.
"Will you be going out for lunch today, Sir?" Mingi asked, fingers frozen above the keyboard, peaking through his glasses as he stared at San who was locking the glass door to his office.
"Yeah...want something?" the man turned to look at his secretary - assistant, mind you- who shook his head, "Enjoy your lunch, Sir." with that he went back to typing up the due report - one that was due a day ago, he was just glad San hadn't realised that yet.
Shaking his head San sighed, "Mingi, my man, you gotta stop calling me Sir." stuffing his hands in his pockets he looked around the almost empty floor, "Also, I've submitted the report." his words caused the taller man to freeze, his curious eyes locking with a tired, blank pair, an apology simmering at the tip of his tongue but the man raised his hand to stop him, "Just...tell me next time." 
"Yes Sir."
"Creme croissant and a latte, right?" he asked as he began to walk away, being nothing more than a hero- no, an angel, for Song Mingi, oh how he wished everyone had a boss like his. Standing up and bowing a good 90 degrees he kept thanking the man until the elevator doors closed.
.
Grimacing at the bitter taste of his coffee he walked down the street, frowning at almost everything. The sun was too bright, the birds were too loud, there was too much traffic and lunch hour was packed. Holding onto the paper bag of Mingi's lunch he bit the end of the straw, staring into the windows of the shops he passed by. Why did these people look so happy? Did they not have work? What did they have that he did not?
Too lost in thought he collided with someone, though little damage was done to him, other than dropping Mingi's lunch, his coffee was fine, and so was his shirt. Sighing in relief he turned to look at the person who had ended up on the floor, about to apologise he paused, "Oh...it's you."
Falling on your butt is one of the worse things known to man or woman in her case, truth be told she hadn't seen the man, especially because of the boxes that she was holding, they were heavy and if Jongho didn't think that rock-paper-scissors was not the best solution for any problem, especially when it meant carrying heavy objects, she wouldn’t be here. She was picking up the cups that fell out of the box, luckily the one with the spoons and forks was taped up, mumbling an apology to the person before spotting the soiled package- shit.
"I'm so sorry-" she was cut off by his statement, staring up at him, oh shit. Clearing her throat she nodded before standing up, patting the dust off her clothes and apologising, "I-I'm sorry I didn't see you there. " He was about to say it's okay please stop apologising but before he could she reached for his feet causing him to bounce back only to realise she was reaching for what remained of Mingi's lunch.
"I- I'm so sorry, I'll get you a new one." she said placing it on the boxes and trying to pick them up, though he reached for them before she could, picking them up, "Please stop apologising. It's alright, you don't have to," he said as he looked at her from over the boxes. Wow, he makes the boxes look small, what else can he pick up?
"No, please you don't have to help me, I can carry them." she said trying to reach for them but he shook his head, nodding in the opposite direction, "Where were headed?"
"LET ME MAKE YOU LUNCH" 
The two stared at each other, her words causing the two to stare at each other before he cleared his throat, averting his gaze and she shook her head trying to explain, "I mean for the one I dropped, I have a cafe- technically it's not open yet but you-you can be the first official nonofficial customer."
"Ah...okay," whispering he turned to look at her again and nodded, following her as she began to speed walk in the direction of his office- oh it was close by? They stopped at a closed shop just a block away, the windows covered with newspapers, including the glass door. Craning his neck back he stared at the name, a giant board of the name - oh it's a cafe? 'Jiyuu'.
Freedom, huh? He followed her inside, only to abruptly stop when she turned around "I can hold it-"
"Just tell me where to keep it,” he asked before walking towards the dusty counter, placing the boxes on it and turning to her but she zoomed into the kitchen mumbling, a 'Please stay here, I'll be right back'. 
He stood there, idle, hands in his pockets, staring around the semi-decorated place, wasn't shabby, and wasn't over the top modern as well. It was close to his work too, maybe he'd try the coffee here. Speaking of coffee, how did a simple cafe owner- one that was still closed- afford an apartment like his? Someone cleared their throat, earning his attention. 
"Here you go," she mumbled, "Sorry again." handing him the paper bag- it was bigger than the one he had for Mingi.
"Thank you." nodding at her he pouted, "I told you, it's okay." with that the two stood there, awkwardly standing, staring at anything but each other, the hustle and bustle of outside muffled through the newspaper-covered glass windows, the golden glow just adding to the calm atmosphere. He hadn't felt like this in a while he had not been able to hear his thoughts in a good while, it bothered him, the slow atmosphere, there was no rush, and even time had a pace of its own. A melancholic serenity, he was slowly beginning to enjoy until his phone rang, causing him to jerk back to reality, only to realise she was busy unboxing, when did she move away? Did she just let him stand there, staring at the wall? 
"I- thanks again." clearing his throat he nodded at her, earning a gentle smile, "Thank you too." with that he quickly made his exit.
That day, Mingi received more than just a croissant and a latte, he got a whole Danish pastry, a cold coffee and more assorted baked items- No, San did not tell him how he got them, he just told him it was his treat. That day, San had finally witnessed something, felt something so similar that he felt goosebumps, felt the hairs at the back of his neck stand, yet, other than his internal conflict, the world around him was at a pace so strange, one that was slowly pulling him in, something he was deathly afraid of, yet, he welcomed it, just a little bit. That day she finally made a friend, other than Jongho, even if it were comprised of him just being nice to her, she'd accept that, everyone was falling in love, and at least she was no longer falling behind.
.
A week, it had just been a week since the two had come to know about their existence and he had realised how even though he'd address her with her first name she'd use Mr.Choi. Perhaps she would do so out of respect, or perhaps she was scared of him. Either way, what he did not expect was for her to knock on his door, drenched to the bone, shivering as she tried to give him that usual smile 'Everything is A-okay!'. He could see right through it, and even though he had decided to not meddle in others' affairs, he still somehow found her sitting on his couch, clutching onto a mug of tea, one of his spare towels wrapped around her shoulders.
That is not what baffled him, what truly amazed him was how this strange woman just barged into his apartment, wet as a cat caught in the rain and had brought up a proposition, much similar to the one Yeosang would bring to the table during the yearly board meetings, making San want to strangle him most of the time.
"So, in reality, you want me to drop you off at your place of work and you'll pay me...with coffee?" He asked, watching her sit on his extremely expensive leather couch, sleek black, matching the monochromatic theme of his living room, and her damp clothes were not doing the leather any favours.
"Yes- I mean, No- I mean a coffee and something to eat, whatever you like! I read that business and corporate people love a good brew and I'll be targeting them too so-" she went on and on, playing with the hem of her damp cardigan, but he raised a hand to stop her, her eyes widening at the gesture, oh god, was he going to throw her out? Jongho did tell her that this was a bad idea.
"Why are your clothes wet?"
"O-oh." her face flushed at the question, her gaze flickering to her lap as she cleared her throat, "It started raining on my way back...and I didn't have an umbrella."
"But the forecast.... mentioned it." he sighed, rubbing his face with his hands before stopping to glare at her, "Did you not take one or did you forget it at the cafe?" his words were cold, but held some form of warmth to them, though his hard glare softened at her meek response.
"I left it at work, Mr.Choi."
"Go home." was all he said as he stood up and walked over to the main door, turning to catch her staring at him with wide glossy eyes, of course, she wouldn't get the hint, "We leave at sharp 6 am”.
.
"So... this is just what neighbours do?" Yeosang glanced up from the documents, of course San had blocked the funds for the marketing department, this man's sulking was affecting his work ethic too- by work ethic, he meant how he was holding Yeosang's big marketing plans.
"Hmm? Oh yeah...I guess, why?" he asked still reading through the other proposals, not really thinking about it or her. Honestly, he had assumed she would've tapped out within a week, though this past month he was impressed by her persistence. Some days he'd just step foot outside to find her standing in front of her own door, holding onto her handbag, only to smile at him. How on earth was she able to pull off the heart-stopping smile early in the morning? He still didn't know how, he'd just nod silently, sometimes mumbling a good morning, but his lips wouldn't quirk up the slightest.
She'd followed him silently, usually not speaking unless spoken to, but he could sense that she had many stories to tell, but perhaps his heart was already too full, sinking into this blue and her stories and words would just ruin any chances he'd have to stay afloat. Hence, they'd only exchange pleasantries when he'd see fit, but he'd thank her, every time he'd drop her and she'd ask him to stay for a minute, only to run inside with her things and come back running with a coffee and a paper bag. Each day it would comprise of something new, and she'd just say it's her trying new recipes, though she never made the coffee, it was made by him, someone named Jongho, he didn't know much about Jongho, only that he played a vital role in her life- so she had someone too, even if potential. And for once he was glad to have kept his walls up high as he had, though this silent pitter patter of his heart, from every time she'd smile at him annoyed him, every time she whispered before closing the door, " Have a good day, Mr.Choi", it just made the pound of flesh in him shiver with an unwanted excitement.
"San?"
"Huh?"
Clicking his tongue, Yeosang leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms as he scanned the man across the table. His shirts were pressed to the crisp, his usual four-in-hand tie knot, now a full-blown Windsor knot, he'd brought back the waistcoat as well, a choice that was long discarded and his hair, gelled back to perfection—definitely just neighbours. 
"What~" he whined, slumping against the chair, almost like a child throwing a fit, a side only Yeosang would see, usually he'd mock him, but he knew San got like this when he was bound by one of his man internally conflicts, which is why he chose to keep the observation to himself and nod at the clock, "Your neighbour must be waiting, it’s almost time."
"What- oh yeah." nodding he quickly grabbed his things, slinging his bag over his shoulder, almost out the door before he stopped and turned around, "Yeo?"
"Hmmm?"
"Re-evaluate and send in the budget again."
"F*ck you, Choi."
.
"So..." she asked, looking around the interior of his car, "Nice car." Must've cost a lot is what she wanted to say next, but knowing him, he would've asked her to get out at that very moment- incorrect, Choi San couldn't even glare at her properly, let alone tell her to walk home.
"Thank you..." he mumbled, driving onto the main road, not really knowing how to continue the conversation, Yeosang would've made fun of him, telling him he couldn't even do 'small talk', but it's not like he had much in common with her, other than working near each other and living in the same building, on the same floor.
"I uh...thank you for dropping me home." she tried to push onto the subject, maybe he'd talk to her if she pestered him, that's how she had gotten Jongho to become her friend- not the best tactic, but it had worked once, why wouldn't it again?
"No problem." his responses were short, again, not out of malice, he just didn't know what to say to her, with his sister, it usually comprised of him being a baby to her or her bossing him around but that was different, they were siblings, they could argue about stupid things and get over it, but with her- she was...different, she was soft, she was sensitive and delicate, like a butterfly on a flower. Though she'd be one of those he'd avoid, not wanting to fall into its beauty and grace, too distracted to take note of the world around him. No longer was he willing to fall, or at least imagine to do so.
Parking the car he cleared his throat, waiting for her to move, but he was greeted by silence. What the hell- he turned to find her asleep, hugging her purse close, leaning against the door. 
If this was extremely dangerous and careless of her, he might have found it cute- why on earth- HOW COULD SHE JUST FALL ASLEEP LIKE THIS? What does he do? Does he tap her shoulder? Shake her? Wouldn't that be touching her without consent? Should he call her by her name? Yes, he should, and with that intention he had turned to her once more, only to notice the small frown etched on her features, she looked.... tired.
Jerking awake she sat up properly, blowing the hair out of her face, blinking around, where- was she in the car? Whipping her head to look at the driver's seat she found him sitting there, tying away on his phone, his hair a bit dishevelled but everything else was pristine about him, as it was in the morning. His face was illuminated by the blue light, only accentuating his sharp features, to this day she wondered how someone like him would even bother talking to her.
"Good morning" he turned to look at her, catching her mid-stare, as she choked on her words, about to blurt out an apology but he cut her off, "Don't apologise, it’s something I did by choice, anyway, I got through with most of my emails for the day now so that's good. " He locked his phone before finally switching off the car- he was wasting gas for her? "Did you rest well?" 
She could only nod at his question, as he got out and closed the door, she clumsily followed after clutching onto her things as he made his way to the elevator, locking the car, the beep echoing across the parking lot.
He held the doors open for her, waiting for her to run in as she placed her handbag down, turning to him with a pout, only to be met by a frown- was he angry? Of course, he was, but he did say he stated by choice so why did he-
"Do you realise how dangerous that was? Falling asleep in someone else's car?" his words were direct, cold to the brim, "It's extremely foolish. Just because we know each other doesn't mean you can do that! We're just neighbours, nothing more and even if we are carpooling this isn't safe. Would you do the same in an Uber or a bus? Do you realise this is just carelessness? It's just not how you live in the city or elsewhere for that matter-" he spat, turning to meet her with an intense glare, only to lock eyes with a misty pair, pausing when she dipped her head, "I'm sorry, I know. " 
"I-I'll be careful next time. Mr.Choi." whispered, her fingers gripping the leather of her bag, he was right, they were just neighbours, nothing more, nothing less, more importantly, this formal arrangement of carpooling was only temporary, maybe she should just take the bus from now on. Jongho was wrong, she wasn't mature enough for this, and she couldn't do this on her own, her fiancé was right, she was childish and clumsy, a little girl living in a fool's paradise at best, too used to being a daddy's little princess. 
San watched her walk out of the elevator, though he was too petrified to say anything, his own reaction had confused him. Why was he so upset? He was the one who let her sleep? It wasn't like him to raise his voice like this, especially at someone he would compare to a butterfly. What was wrong with him? He was never this bitter. Just like that, he watched her walk into her apartment, the soft click signalling her to lock it. No, he did not receive the usual "Goodnight Mr.Choi."
But then again, did he deserve it? With a heavy sigh, he closed the door, staring at his empty apartment, feeling...guilty? Well, he did just...it wasn't wrong but...groaning in defeat he turned around and walked out of his apartment slamming the door shut behind him.
.
 Pushing up her glasses she frowned at the screen, what kind of schedule was this, all the buses left before sunrise, way before San would even leave, and they’d leave later as well. In addition to those issues, the bus wouldn’t drop or pick her up near the café, the bus stops were around five blocks away from the shop. Groaning she slammed the lid shut, what if she just walked every morning? Maybe she shouldn’t have moved here, leaving her comfort zone, forcing Jongho along with her- he was a fool, he’d always had too much faith in her and that had always been the problem. At this point, she had once again wasted her parents’ money and potentially risked Jongho’s life savings too.
With a heavy sigh, she picked up the laptop and placed it on her desk before coming back to bed, laying back down as she stared up at the ceiling, letting her sullen thoughts lull her to sleep. Only to sit awake when the doorbell rang, looking around her room before it rang again, groaning she laid back down and covered her ears, waiting for it to stop. And it did, much to her pleasure, only the next thing to ring was her phone, she slammed her hand around for it and picked it up without checking the ID, “Jongho I swear if you’re calling me because you have a new brew idea, I’ll stab you with a spork.”
For a second she was met with silence, causing her to pull back and squint at the caller ID, before gasping and pressing it against her ear, “Mr.Choi I’m so so-“
“Sorry? Mhmmm…I know, so am I, please open the door so I can do so formally.”
That night, was the first time she had received a formal apology from a corporate worker, one with a proper 90-degree bow, followed by a soft apology. She opened the door to find him standing there tall before doing so, standing back up and showing her a bag, “I hope you like Chinese takeout.”
“I do.” With that she moved to the side, thanking God that she had cleaned her apartment the day before, asking him to make himself comfortable as she set the table. That night Choi San finally decided to learn a bit about her, not too much, he didn’t want to get involved in anything other than carpooling, this dinner was just a mere apology for his sudden outburst anyway. He looked around the lounge, the comfortable sofa was different from his, well most of this place was, it had colour, little trinkets that represented who she was, by the window were some succulents, but there was no television to be found, weird.
Once the table was set the two began to eat quietly, that is until she began, “You didn’t have to get dinner Mr Choi, and it's too much-
“I did.” He cut her off, clearing his throat to continue, “I…my outburst was uncalled for, I know it may seem confusing, but I wasn’t upset that you fell asleep, I was …concerned for your safety, I know you just moved here…but I…” he trailed off, especially at the way she was looking at him, like a kid staring at superman, he felt small under her intense stare, no, he wasn’t who she thought he was, he was no saint, he was no saviour, he was no one special. Shaking off the feeling, he mumbled, trying to change the topic, “Why did you move here anyway?” This was a bad move, he had asked something personal, he should’ve just asked her how he liked it here or how was work going, this question just meant that the answer would get him inside for her life, insight, he perhaps could function without.
Unfortunately, after a few stories in he was hooked, the finance director was up till midnight, not because of his work, no, because one story led to another and he listened intently, letting her do all the talking, perhaps because he wanted her to feel as if she was heard, or perhaps her story sparked some form of joy.
"Lee Soohyuk?" he choked on his lettuce wrap, thanking her when she handed him a can of soda. Gulping it down before clearing his throat as he looked at her, watching her clean her side of the table with a tissue, she was done eating. Or was she not eating in front of him?
"The...the famous corporate lawyer? Damn, I've seen him...once? Twice I think." he blinked at her, noting how she had gone quiet before he gave her a small smile, "He's not that smart you know...he was also wrong." 
"What?" she paused her cleaning session to look at him, "He wasn't though, he was right Mr.Choi, I'll always be my parent's little princess, I can't even function alone, I dragged Jongho in this and lord forgive how his dad invested in med school for him and he ended up becoming a barista because of me- I couldn’t even afford a place of my own- I'm still living in an apartment owned by my parents!" slamming her hands on the table she glared at the food, "He was right, I was useless and immature then, I'm equally useless now, other than Jongho now I depend on you - which I won't I promise I'm looking for a solution but the schedule and drop points are so chaotic and-" her words caught up in her throat, being pushed down by a sob as she slumped back in her chair, pressing her palms over her eyes, no crying, crying is for the weak, for those who are spoiled, for those who give up. Too busy trying to think of what breathing exercises Jongho had taught her, she didn't know when he had come to her, until he placed a hand on her shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze causing him to peak up at him.
"Well, I don't know what you were like before...but...I won't say you're useless...Mingi was born here but he still rides his cycle here, and lives with a flatmate," pulling his hand away leaning against the table, stuffing his hands in his pockets- too much skinship is bad- "I... have you ever like managed your resources? Like do you have a plan? An agenda or something?" 
Shaking her head she wiped her eyes, sniffing like a little girl who got scolded, "I- I thought of buying this apartment from them....and then...then...I don’t know."
Nodding San smiled at her, "So you do have a plan. You just need some help figuring it out." reaching over for a tissue he plucked some out of the box before handing them to her, "Let's get your priorities organised first. Make a payment plan or something like that, your business started off well, which means you know how to work that out, you just need help in the...other stuff. Take a leap of faith."
"What if I... fall?"
'Then I'll catch you'. 
This is what he had wanted to say that night but chose to smile at her, telling her people learn from their mistakes, no matter how small. Fortunately, she had made a friend that day, one who would guide her through, one who also told her to forget about the bus schedule and that they'd still carpool. Unfortunately for him, he might have stepped into a boundary he was desperately trying to avoid. Either way, Friday night dinners slowly became a tradition, a place of dining alternating, a Friday at his and a Friday at hers- something that when he told Yeosang, all the prince-ly man did was stare at him before leaving the office without another word, ignoring San yelling at him,
"WE'RE ONLY NEIHBOURS! WHERE ARE YOU GOING?? YAH KANG YEOSANG!"
.
Cursing to himself he ran down the stairs, Yeosang's laugh echoing around the staircase, "It's not like you're late for a date!" he yelled only for San to turn and glare at him, stopping dead in his tracks, "I'm late to pick her up from work."
"Ah yes, because her being there makes traffic jams a bit more bearable!" he yelled from the end of the staircase laughing when San flipped him off while driving by.
She stood there, leaning against the ceramic pot, the guard didn't let her in, saying she had to mention who she was here to see and even though she had said Mr.Choi, she really didn't know which department he worked in, which is why she was asked to wait outside.
So, here she was, standing in the middle of the rain with her umbrella, staring at the cars zooming past her, the security guard inside the glass cabin giving her an apologetic smile once in a while.
Sighing she looked at her shoes, the pavement not doing much to stop the water from sliding onto the road. The pavement was getting busier too, most people just got free and as much as she loved the city, she wondered, at any given moment alone if this was a risk worth taking. A slight shove from a passerby had her stumble a few steps forward, stopping right at the edge of the pavement, not even a sorry was thrown in her direction.
She turned to glare at the woman running away in heels before a honk caught her attention, turning to spot the familiar car as it slowed down, the door opening for her as the driver moved back onto his seat, quickly she got in, making sure to close her umbrella and shove a plastic bag around it ungracefully, turning to smile at the driver, "hi-"
"Why are you here?" he spat, frowning at her before flicking on his blinker, "It's raining and I said I'll pick you up no? I didn't say you'd pick me up from work."
Sighing she shook her head, "Sorry Mr.Choi." She said that a lot, more often than either would like, it would make his heart clench every time and Yeosang would call him a bastard every time he'd mention this to him in his daily narratives.
"I- what I mean is...I was a bit late so I texted you, you didn't have to come all the way here and stand in the rain out on the street." his words softer than before, as he stopped at a traffic light, glancing at her from the rear-view mirror, watching her pout.
"I- my phone died...so I didn't know and, I was waiting but then when you didn't come...I was worried...about you so I came here and- "She was worried about him, something within him pulled at his heart, she was waiting for him? But before the feeling could settle in, her usual nonstop chatter began, shaking him out of his fever dream, "What's your department by the way, they wouldn't let me in! Said there were so many Chois! Did you know that!?? I mean Jongho is a Choi too, and then there Choi Minho- he's cute, I like him, I like Shinee...do you?"
"I...." unsure of which question to answer first he frowned before he began to drive shaking his head at her, "I’m the director of the finance department." he sighed earning a chuckle, side-eying her only for her to stop and clear her throat. He nodded at her, ignoring her first half of the statement, though the latter portion had the tips of his turning red.
"Sorry, that would just explain your expensive taste, Mr.Choi...would explain the Windsor knot too." 
.
She stood in front of his door, checking the time once more, it was almost seven and his car was still in the parking lot. Yes, she had run down the flight of stairs to check if he was still there. She had called him too but his phone was switched off so she did the next best thing, called Jongho.
"JONGHO-"
"It's seven- no, wait- listen your monstrosity it’s not even seven yet, what do you WANT." He yelled, causing her to pull the phone away from her ear, whining an apology.
"Mr.Choi won’t answer my calls or open the door what do I do??"
"My poor baby." he cooed at her in a taunting manner, "maybe you finally did to him what the pressure his job couldn’t."
"What? What do you mean?" she asked before deciding to take matters into her own hands.
"Corporate pressure was nothing compared to you, I'm sure he's at peace now-"
"OH, SCREW YOU, I'M IN." with that, she hung up, entered his apartment and marched towards his room- the only place in his apartment she hadn't seen. Knocking on his bedroom door she slowly peeked in, only to be met by a room filled with clothes lying around, the curtains drawn close and the heater on full blast. Stepping in, careful not to step on the clothes she walked over to a heap of blankets on the bed, resting her hand on it as she gently shook it, "Mr.Choi." 
The lack of movement just had her worrying even more, as she leaned closer pressing her ear against the cotton, hearing his laboured breathing, shaking her head she announced, "Mr.Choi, I'm gonna pull these off!" with that she ripped off the two- no three quilts he was cocooned in earning a gasp as he quickly sat up, hugging himself shivering in cold sweat.
He stared at her with surprised eyes, "W-what are you- shit, what time is it?"
"Forget what about the time, you're burning up." pressing her palm over her sweaty, warm forehead she frowned, taking in his flushed face, pushing his hair back so she could take a better look at him, then glanced down at his ...sweaters. 
"How many layers...."
"I was cold." he whined, closing his eyes when she carded her fingers through his hair, trying to fix his hair, basically pushing it out of his face, "Of course you are...I'm going to get you something to drink...probably do something else about the fever. You take off your ...layers until then, okay?" she asked tugging at his sweater, earning yet another uncharacteristic whine - or maybe this is who he really was, she was just used to him acting all strong and mighty.
"Okay," he mumbled before reaching for the blanket again only to slap his hand away. Pulling his hand away with a gasp he gave her an offended, traumatised look.
"No." was all she said before going over to turn off the heater and opening the window to let out the stuffiness, "I'll be back in ten minutes and I better see those off you, understood?"
Wow, since when did she become all assertive? He thought to himself but only nodded at her instructions, it had been a while since someone had actually put in the effort to take care of him. This is what a good neighbour would do right? He'd take care of her too, right? He had already helped her make a payment plan that she was using to buy off the apartment her parents owned, he had met Jongho too, a nice but horrible fellow, but one that could push her and keep her on track, much like San he believed in her, claiming that
'If they didn't get her engaged with a man six years older than her, she would've had time to grow. Soohyuk wasn't bad but he was 26 and she was 20, he had a set plan, and she didn't even know what she wanted to major in- I don't blame either of them, marriage isn't a business transaction.
He watched her leave the room, glancing at the handbag on his side table, he'd seen her grow though, a few more months and the apartment would be hers, plus the cafe was getting good traffic so there was no real issue there. Though Jongho did threaten him, reminding him of how influential she was even if she wasn't on her parent's payroll anymore, any funny business would mean his career was over.
Slowly he began to take off the layers just doing what she had asked then falling face forward on the pillow, listening to the clinking of the pots and pans.
She arrived back to him with a tray in hand, for a busy man she always marvelled over how clean his kitchen was, but then again he did remind her now and then how cleaning was a good way to destress. Starting at the sweaters on the floor, the ones he had discarded because of her instructions- guessed the cleaning was only limited to the kitchen.
Shaking her head as she made her way through the maze of blankets and clothes, she placed the tray on his side table, slowly pushing her bag off the table. Sliced fruit and lots of water, followed by some Advil. He wasn't shivering anymore, so that was good, "Mr.Choi!" Turning to him she smiled, "Have some break...fast-" Good lord that some back, like that, was...wow.  
"What?" pushing up on his hands he turned his head to look at her only for her to cover her face, with her hands squeaking, "WHY DID YOU TAKE OFF ALL YOUR CLOTHES?"
Scoffing he sat up, his headache just adding to his bratty attitude, "Because you yelled at me too and I'm still wearing my pants." Why was she being like this, she was so mean, she even left the window open, he was so cold, his neck and shoulders hurt and it was all because of that damn window, "My shoulders are killing me because of the window you left open too!"
"I-" Lowering her hands she looked at him, sitting on his knees, staring at her with a pout, what a man-child.
"First of all, sit properly, and eat, have the medicine it'll help with the pain and" Bending down she picked up a discarded shirt, handed it to him, "Window stays open or you take a cold shower."
That was all it took for the big boy to sit there, eating his sliced apples, which were never-ending, until he realised, she was slicing up even more, and an Advil later he began to come back to his senses, clearing his throat as he tried to roll his shoulders to ease the discomfort, which ended up being futile.
"I'm sorry for not informing you, I think I switched off my phone after sending in my sick leave." sighing he leaned back against the pillows, shaking his head when she was about to cut another apple, "Please. I'm full."
With a pout, followed by a suspicious glance she nodded, placing the fruit back down and taking his empty plate off his lap. Leaning closer she pressed her hand on his forehead, he was still warm but it was better than before mumbling, "It's alright, Jongho can handle stuff better than me anyway."
Letting out a soft chuckle, his fingers gripped her wrists gently, pulling her hand away from his skin, "That's funny, I remember him telling me how he desperately needs you to deal with all the customers and manage stuff," he whispered, only then realising how close the two were to each other, with her leaning on the bed, her knee pressing onto the mattress next to his leg, "I can see that you really can." 
"I..." averting her gaze she mumbled a thank you before asking, "How's the pain?" slowly pulling away as she sat back down, but his fingers still held onto her, though he didn't notice, he was holding onto her, as if she was grounding him to reality, or some form of happiness that he did not want to let go, at least not now. She however noticed this new profound clinginess and she'd be lying if she were to say she didn't like it, this feeling of being wanted, of being important and valued.
"Hurts." pouting he leaned back against the pillow, closing his eyes like that would turn off the headache, his thumb mindlessly caressing her skin, "Shouldn't have picked up those stupid weights...Jongho did this on purpose."
"JONGHO?"
His grip tightened when he winced at her tone, shooting her glare for which she quickly apologised, before pestering him, glad she was wearing pants as she pulled her hand away and moved closer to him, standing on her knees on the bed beside him, gripping his shoulders, "Mr.Choi, please tell me. What has he told you?"
"N-nothing." he cleared his throat, trying to scoot away but her grip on his shoulders tightened, fingers digging into the muscle, causing him to let out an involuntary moan before she completely pulled away, "I- I’m sorry did that hurt."
Groaning he hunched over, shaking his head, "No, no, it felt good...sorry." Rubbing his neck, he looked at her, taking in her flushed features before sighing, "I uh...Jongho and I go to the gym together...he asked because he wanted to go too, I already go there with a friend from work...don't worry your secrets are safe with him."
Nodding at his statement she stood up and moved pointing at the chair she was sitting on, "Sit." 
Raising an eyebrow, he looked at her, narrowing his eyes, glaring at her, almost playfully. Taking a few moments for her to get all nervous causing her to clear her throat, "I- I mean I can massage your shoulders, I- Jongho uses this oil, uses me like a free massage person too for his neck and-"
Raising his hand, he stopped her, slowly getting off the bed with a groaning sitting down as instructed before glancing at her, "Just don't strangle me, okay? He did mention how you have the death grip of a man."
If she weren't too distracted by the sight of him following her orders, she would've jumped down the window. Taking a deep breath, she pulled the oil out of her bag, yes, she carried that around in case Jongho pulled something like the old man he was.
Once she began working on his neck, fingers pressing into the knots he bit his lip, trying to hold in the sounds that were about to burst through, if this was the privilege Jongho got for being her best friend, he'd sign up too.
For about ten minutes she went on with her usual routine, only to stop when his head fell back against her belly, going limp her hold- Oh. He had fallen asleep. She stood there, holding onto his slouching form, taking in his relaxed features. She hadn't seen him this relaxed before, he almost looked...too cute. Speaking of cute, she had learned many things about him today, from how he was actually just as whiny as he pretended not to be, to how he ate almost 5 apples before stopping, she did notice how his fridge was mostly empty other than having eggs, and leftover take out. Maybe they should have more dinners together, maybe she could cook actual homemade food for him.
Slowly helping him up, he drowsily mumbled something before falling onto the bed, as she tucked him in. Glancing at the time she sighed, she'd spent most of the day here, giving him one more look she reached for his hair, brushing it out of his eyes, "Rest well Mr.Choi."
The next morning San woke up better than ever, he knew the fatigue was getting to him but he didn't stop, he probably had forgotten how to stop. That would explain why he fell sick, but who knew he lived right next door to an angel? What surprised him more was how his entire room was clean, all his clothes were neatly folded and stacked in one place, blankets folded at the edge of his bed and the water bottles no longer littered around. She really didn't have to do so much. 
Picking up his phone he checked his messages, opening hers first before Yeosang's or Mingi's
'Hope you're better now Mr Choi. Advil is on the console and I restocked your apples. Don't worry, I went to work myself today, like a big girl. You get some rest.'
Smiling at her message he leaned against the pillow, yeah, this is exactly what neighbours do.
.
"A car?"
"Yes, a car." he sighed, turning the laptop to her, "You can get one on loan, I can fix you up with a good payment plan." he smiled at her, only to frown at the way she was frowning at her lap, "What's...wrong?"
"I- No I- thank you, it really does mean a lot." she cleared her throat, trying to control her expression, he was tired of her, he had to be, "I just...are you- I mean if you feel our routine is taxing then-"
Shaking his head he closed the laptop, turning fully to face her own couch, she was sitting on his very expensive couch, crushing the very expensive cushion in her lap, but it was okay, because it was her, and this time, the after work hours, a few hours before would fall asleep had become their time, where she would go on and on about stuff, only for him to add in a few bits- not because he wasn't interested but because he wanted her to speak, he wanted her to be heard, that and he was still too afraid that if she were to find out he was but from a simple background, from a small town like Namhae, she might never come back here. He wanted to watch her grow, he wanted to watch her business grow and bloom into what she had dreamt for it to be, he wanted to help her and this was a way of helping her.
"It's not...taxing. But...you need to" Pausing to take a moment to think, he noticed how her nails were digging into the leather, shaking that thought away he sighed, "You need to be independent, I'm not saying we change our routine, but you should lax yours, you don't have to leave at 6 am every morning and you don't need to come back home at around 8 or 9. Like you couldn't go when I was sick and then took the bus." he paused, taking in her appearance, only to find her pouting at the TV - yes, he had her buy a TV too because he refused to believe watching stuff on your laptop was better than the TV, though just like every other day she'd come over and watch his TV instead saying it's boring to watch TV alone. Reaching for the remote he paused the movie, to get her to only focus on him, having her look at him, "Like I was saying, a car can help you fix that and what if you need to collect your packaging or go buy fresh produce from the farmer's market? You can't always take a cab, it's not safe- you're earning well enough, I'm not saying buy one because of me, I'm saying buy one because it's your need, you shouldn't depend on anyone, not even me."
Clearing his throat, he met her soft, warm eyes, watching her stare at him intently, before blinking slowly at looking at the laptop, her grip on the cushion loosened,
"I like...the red one."
.
"A car? I- is this 4-year plan? SAN NO." Yeosang stared at the spreadsheet before turning to San who was calmly sipping on his warm cup of coffee, the logo bright enough for Yeosang to roll his eyes, "Listen, lover boy, I get your head over heels for her, but this is a stupid idea, four years with the same car, four years and she's still paying it off- what if she wants to change the car??"
"Yeosang, she's not big on change, and four years max, the payment plan is flexible in terms of quotas she can pay, knowing Jongho he’ll make her pay it all off within two years maximum." he said as he placed his cup down, leaning against his swivel chair, earning another groan from the man across the table, "Man, just buy her a car then."
"No."
"WHY NOT"
"Because she has to learn."
"And you need to grow a pair, big enough to tell her you like her."
"I don't like her." he sighed rolling closer to his desk to turn on his laptop, eying Yeosang who looked at the papers once more, "No, you do not like her...you convinced her to buy a car, made an entire payment plan for her and told her the initial deposit fee was waved off even though YOU paid it- you don't like her my friend," standing up the marketing director walked to the door of the office, turning to glance at his friend with one final smirk before leaving, "You're in love with her."
.
"Jongho, can you get me more napkins?" she called out to the man who was busy singing in the kitchen, at this point she could just ask him to get himself recorded, she was sure Hongjoong wouldn’t say no to either of them. Rush hour was about to start and for that, she needed to prepare, even if the business was booming, they were still short-staffed, and Jongho’s lack of people skills was dragging the interview session longer than she had anticipated. Though she was partially to blame, she was often too preoccupied with work and then well… a certain suited man, from the car ride home to the apartment, to dinner. They had begun to have dinner together more frequently, she often cooked as well, the first time she took a homecooked dish to his place he almost cried at dinner, excusing himself to go to the kitchen for more ‘napkins’, though from the faint sniffing from the kitchen and how long he took there had her believing her suspicions were right, once he looked at her with puffy eyes. Though she never said anything, smiling at him like she always did, for once feeling as if she wasn’t falling behind, cupid could walk right by her and she wouldn’t mind, her heart was already on a platter for someone else, she was just waiting for him to realise this little fact. So, she too, was too busy to even go through the files, but one of these days she’ll definitely get back to it.
The little chime of the bell had her look up from the counter, smiling at the customer only to almost drop to her knees at the man who had walked in- no, he was a fairy- could men be fairies? An angel? No, what on earth was this creature, his face holding the same innocence of an angel, but when he spoke, it was as if she heard the grumble of a dragon- damn. Shaking away her thoughts she smiled at him, greeting him as he stepped closer, oh how she loved men in suits- or rather just one man, with the cute Windsor knot, she noticed how he’d changed it from his usual ones.
“I’ll have whatever you like.” He smiled at her, before looking around, “This place new?”
“Yes, Sir, it is, may I ask if you have any allergies?” she asked before punching in a combo number, to which he shook his head.
“Cash or card?”
“What does Mr.Choi use?”
“What?” she froze, looking up from the monitor to meet his smirk, well, that was new, “I’m sorry, what was that sir?”
“I said card.”
With that she quickly swiped his card, asking him to wait for a while until she came to him with his order. Yeosang wanted to tell her who he was, but the way she stared up at him like a school girl caught slipping a note in her crush’s locker forced him to stop himself, she looked almost too innocent to bully like that- perhaps he should leave the teasing for San instead.
.
You should've gotten the latest model." the man stormed into his friend's room, earning a look of surprise, leaning right to spot his secretary raise his hands in defence, Mingi was always so useless at times like this. "Dude, in a meeting." he sighed gesturing at the muted call, only for Yeosang to snort, roll his eyes and sit down cross-legged across the man, sipping on a cup of coffee, "I cannot believe you let someone like that wait in the rain for you," he mumbled as soon as San joined the call once more, back to business.
"What-" he looked up from the screen to glare at the brunette pausing at the cup, oh, "Oh you went- "Of course, I WENT- I had to check her out okay and I- you really are a d*ck, she isn't slow-witted at all, she's just cute. That's how girls are, not that you'd know you simpleton." "San your mic isn't muted" They heard a chuckle only for him to panic and Yeosang to choke on his coffee, both men apologising to their boss who just laughed it off- luckily the meeting was being held during the break, which meant this conversation could happen since they were off the clock for a while.
.
Much like any other day off, San had decided to do his basic house chores, and since his neighbour now had her own car, he didn’t need to worry about that today which was good, because he really did need to clean up. With the trash bag in hand, he walked out of his apartment, only to stop and stare at the figure hunched over by the elevator, what the- oh wait what?
 Jogging over to her he tapped her shoulder, “Are you okay?” placing the back down he crouched down to get a better look at her face, only to frown at her pained expression, “What’s wrong?”
“N-nothing, just came back from the doc’s.” she sighed before slowly straightening back up, giving him a faulty smile, “All’s good Mr.Choi….cleaning day today?” she mumbled, changing the topic as she made her way to her apartment, not really giving him any time to answer.
She was almost in bed when she heard the front door beep open, man, she shouldn't have shared the passcode. Nonetheless, she walked back out to find him standing there in her hallway, frowning at her before marching towards her, "What happened? Why were you at the doctor's?" 
"I'm fine, just a bit sick I-" pausing her eyes clenched shut, whimpering as she held onto her stomach, trying to breathe out the pain. 
"That's it, we're going to get you checked again." he declared, grabbing her wrist before she snatched it away, "NO! Leave me alone." He blinked at her, taking in the sudden outburst, somewhat offended, did he overstep a boundary? Scanning her pale face he noticed the way her lower lip trembled, was she...going to cry?
"Please..."
That was all it took for Choi San to leave, not forcing her for anything. If she wanted to be alone, fine, she'd be alone, but she didn't need to yell at him like that, and then cry, that just confused him. Maybe she was offended that he came in even though she clearly tried to avoid him, but...they'd usually just walk into each other's apartments like that, that wasn't new. His phone ringing was what had him stop the brooding session, picking up the call,
"Hey."
"You need to help your stupid neighbour."
"I...well she told me she wanted to be alone Jongho, I think she's sick but won't go to the doctor," San mumbled, a bit too desperately. 
"That..." he could practically see Jongho roll his eyes at him, "Because it's that time of the month."
"What time of the month?"
"Choi San, do you have a sister?"
"Yeah, why?"
".... she on her period man- look, I called you because we cancelled all the interviews for a new hire today but this one moron won't listen and I know he's going to go to her place so you gotta tell her."
"WAIT WHAT- she was in so much pain though." no wonder she wanted him to leave, no wonder she yelled at him and then began crying.
"Mhmmm...kay bye".
"JONGHO WAIT-" he looked at the phone and sighed, this man just wanted him to lose his mind, nothing else. He'd do this to him often, even at the gym. Like when he'd be lifting weights, that one time when San accidentally dropped a dumbell on his foot when Jongho casually told him, "Did you know she's in guys with nice butts, and apparently when I stare at a lady with a nice butt for a while, she calls me a pervert." Or the time he almost lost his footing on the treadmill while running, Jongho who was casually standing next to him, staring at his reflection through the mirror, "Glad she hasn't seen your arms, she has a thing for being put in a WWE style headlock." yet, here he was telling her that her secrets were safe with Jongho.
.
She felt someone tap her shoulder, her soul almost left her body, her scream muffled by his palm as he held her down, "It's me, it's me..." he whispered, pulling away slowly as she sat up, grabbing a pillow and smacking him with it, repeatedly, "WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT!"
Clicking his tongue, he snatched it out of her hand and glared at her, though he wasn't angry, his annoyed expression just confused her even more when he pointed at a brown paper bag he had placed beside her. His face flushed as he averted his gaze, clearing his throat, "Jongho said...someone's coming for an interview. This has...stuff for you...I don't know what you particularly use, so I got...most of it."
"What do you mean, I cancelled the interviews and what did you bring for me-"
The doorbell cut her off, her eyes widening in disbelief, no, did Jongho really give her address? She was fighting with the blanket, trying to get it off her when he stopped her, gently pushing her back to lay down, "It's fine...I'll interview him."
He was about to leave but she gripped his wrist, "No, Mr.Choi it's fine, you've done more than enough-"
"You took care of me last time." he smiled at her before taking something out of the paper, "Now let me take care of you." placed the item in her lap he rolled his eyes when the bell rang again, leaving the room. 
What in the name of everything did Jongho tell him? She looked at the chocolate bar, it was her favourite, and she had only mentioned it once, oh my god, did he know she was on her period? Snatching the bag from the edge of the bed she turned it over, its contents falling all over the place. Good grief.... this man...he had gotten her every product he could find. Napkins, tampons, he even bought her heating pads, and other pain medicine, by the time she was done counting the things he had gotten her she was already crying, ugly sobbing at best.
San went to the door, opening it to be greeted by a man with sharp eyes. Technically, his overall appearance was sharp, from his features to his suit- was he really wearing a suit? The only thing about him that seemed remotely soft was his hair, though he looked like a fresh graduate so why apply to a cafe, that too one that was a new seed in the market?
"Good afternoon. Is Ms.L/N here? My name is Jung Wooyoung, I had an interview appointment with her-"
"At the cafe but they were cancelled." San cut him off, leaning against the door as he tried to stare down the shorter man.
Wooyoung stared at the man in sleeveless sweatpants, who was he? Husband? Boyfriend? Some annoying friend? He could pick a fight with him, but then he needed this job, really did.
Clearing his throat, he nodded, before bowing, "I apologise for the intrusion but I thought my eagerness may have a positive impact." 
San stared at him, the perfect 90°, he'd seen that before, many times, he'd been there before too. He knew the feeling, the anxiety and dread that accompanied it, the desperation to finally achieve something. Finally, put the years and money spent on education to use.
"It's...fine, come in."
That's how Wooyoung found himself sitting on a brightly coloured couch, looking around, though he saw no signs of masculinity anywhere, so her boyfriend didn't live with her. He knew his way around the place though. Who was going to interview him though?
San walked out of the kitchen with a tray of tea, placing it on the coffee table as Wooyoung thanked him, getting up to take his mug. No, everything was too feminine so does this mean- what if this dude was a serial killer? Oh my god!?! Did he KILL HER AND IS NOW GOING TO KILL HIM? IS THIS COFFEE POISONED?? Slowly bringing the mug to his nose, sniffing it.
San raised a brow at him, what on earth was this psycho doing? He was about to ask when they heard something crash, instantly getting up he turned to leave, pausing for a moment to loom at Wooyoung, "I'll be right back, please stay here."
Oh my gosh, he was a killer! Wait, she was still alive! He could help her? What should he do? Think Wooyoung, think! Standing up he walked down the same path he did, peaking through the door left ajar.
San frowned as he picked her up, ignoring her whines, "What exactly were you doing?" he asked walking over to the bed, holding her in his arms as she covered her flushed face with her hands mumbling "The clock stopped working."
"Seriously?" quirking a brow at her he stopped walking, looking at her then at the bed, stuff scattered across it, files, pens and her laptop, "Didn't I tell you to rest?"
"I was but then I heard Mr.Jung and I wanted to read his file," she explained, leaning against his chest, mentally noting how he was holding onto her like she weighed lighter than a feather.
He clicked his tongue in protest, about to talk about how he'd handle it but the door burst open, a Mr.Jung stomping in, holding an umbrella in hand, "UNHAND HER YOU PERVERT!"
She flinched when the door slammed open, squeaking as she hugged him close, burying her face in his shirt, arms wrapped around his neck, curling into him as if he'd protect her. On the other hand, San stood there rooted at the spot, at first he was confused as to what Wooyoung was even doing until he noticed the faux bravery morph into some form of fear, his panic setting in.
Wooyoung stood there, umbrella in the air, taking in the sight before him, a man carrying a woman bridal style...oh shit they were together. Please did he Wooyoung himself again?
.
"I am so sorry Miss-"
"It's alright." she cleared her throat, never in her life did she think she'd interview someone whilst being in her pyjamas, the little hearts printed on her shirt and pants. Next to her San sat at a good distance, his face as red as the pot of a plant near the window, intently staring at the coffee table, not even listening to the two converse- he wasn't carrying her around for fun! He was just helping her! She fell off the stool because of the stupid clock and- and her back hurt so his brain just...picking her up was easier and-
"Mr.Choi?"
"Hmm?" instantly turning to her, he regretted it as quick, taking in her soft gaze, almost wanting to crumble at the feet, shit, this wasn't good.
"I said I should hire Mr.Jung, right?"
"Uh...I guess?" he mumbled, discreetly glaring at Wooyoung when she began reading his credentials too, they were good, but managing to be a distinguished student in the country's best culinary school wasn't easy.
"I- I'm sorry for intruding Sir." he cleared his throat, if he had to kiss this man's pointy polished shoes to get this job he would, "I should've known you're her boyfriend, it was a lack of better judgement on my part." He paused to look up at him, only to find the man before him malfunctioning, then glancing at the woman who looked like she was swooning, almost awake inside a dream.
"We're just neighbours!" he blurted out, not liking how Wooyoung's neutral expressions morphed into the sassiest, most judgemental look of 'Nah, I don't think so', as he hunched over the table to take a better look at the two.
"I live next doo-"
"You're hired Mr.Jung, I'll see you tomorrow at work!"
.
"Wow, that's...kinda regret not being there to see it." Jongho hummed, taking out an apron and tossing it to Wooyoung who cleared his throat, "I mean, I didn't intend to make things awkward." 
"Sure man." was all Jongho said before patting him on the back, "But until she comes back to work, you're on counter duty, kitchen is off limits." with that he walked away, leaving the new employee to sigh in defeat, looking around at the empty cafe. Considering she was 'still sick' she'd left Jongho in charge but that man was too busy not interacting with customers and staying hidden in the kitchen, occasionally singing out loud- at least he could sing.
He stared through the glass doors, looking at the people passing by, everyone with a purpose, yet, here he was still trying to find his purpose. 
The doors opened and someone walked in, phone pressed onto his ear, his coat neatly folded in half, hanging off his other forearm, the buttons of his waistcoat fighting for their lives when the man heaved out a heavy sigh, "No Mingi, the report is supposed to be sent to Mr Park from the IT department, Park Seonghwa, send it to him and get back to me." A frown was permanently etched onto his face, brows knitted together as he pulled his phone off his ear and stuffed it in his pocket, only froze when he looked at Wooyoung.
The two just stood there staring at each other for a good ten seconds before Wooyoung cleared his throat and greeted him, "We can pretend nothing happened Mr.Choi."
Scratching his neck the businessman nodded, licking his lips out of embarrassment, "Yeah...sure"
"So, what can I get you, unfortunately, the menu still comprises of the usual since I'm not allowed in the kitchen till the boss lady comes." His professionalism impressed San, honestly, he did think the guy couldn't pull it off but he was glad he wasn't mentioning yesterday at all.
"Oh umm... Jongho knows I called him-"
"Yes, yes, no need to wet your expensive pants Mr.Choi." the kitchen door opened as Jongho walked out with two giant paper bags, San's eyes scanning the change of printing, somewhat proud she took his suggestion on investing in merchandise printing.
"Here's your usual, one for Princess Mingi and the other princess who lives next door." Placing the bags on the counter he smirked at the man, who cleared his throat, trying not to look at Wooyoung whose resting b*tchface was back, comprised of the look which San easily read, 'Nice to see a clown clowning himself.'
"So, aren't corporate breaks supposed to be like...40 minutes long?" Jongho asked, leaning against the counter as he sighed, "You gonna hurry there and back or you gonna eat with her-"
"I- she has to give paperwork for you that's why she called me, I had a half day anyway." He mumbled, quickly taking out his card that Wooyoung slowly took from him, side-eying the man, who was still mumbling excuses, though all Wooyoung could hear was "We're just neighbours".
Of course, they were just neighbours.
.
Shit. Of all the times his car decided to throw a tantrum, it was now. Not only did he leave work late but it was raining, so now, Choi San sat in his car staring at the empty highway, the streetlights his only companion. Clicking his tongue, he tried to switch on the engine again, trying to press on the gas, only for the vehicle to whine in refusal. Sighing he gripped the wheel, resting his forehead against it, sighing at the coolness of the leather. What could he do? Get a cab? No, no cabs would be around right now. Call Yeosang? No, he lived in the opposite direction, he would come to help him, but he knew the man had a presentation due tomorrow. He could…call her. He didn’t want to though; things had become a bit…awkward.
Truth be told he didn’t really want to admit it, but after the Wooyoung incident, he tried to pretend nothing happened and to his amazement, she did too, their routine was as normal as ever, conversations would flow easily, though she’d still do most of the talking. Until one particular Friday night when they were having dinner at her place, she told him she wouldn’t be carpooling anymore because she had finally gotten used to driving and needed to go to other places. Although he was proud, his smile indicating his happiness and joy to see her bloom into a beautiful flower, a nostalgic and heavy blue began to spread in his chest, weighing down on his appetite, as he slowly put down the fork, pushing the plate ever so gently and discreetly, looking at her intently when she began to show him the route she’d take to the market, asking him if it was good or if there was another route. Unfortunately, was too busy looking at her to even care, to even give an honest opinion, she was glowing that night, and he could bask in her warmth forever, but there was no such thing as forever, he knew that happy endings were nonsense, especially when it came down to him. So, after that night, he had slowly begun to distance himself, making sure to leave before she’d wake up and come back later than usual, texting would just comprise of him sending one-liner responses, and he’d even cancelled some of their dinners together saying he had to stay in the office late. Yeosang had asked him a few times about her, but all he’d say was that she was busy and he didn’t want to interfere- that was true though, it was he who helped her out with all the planning and the financial agenda, it was him who supported her endlessly, who pulled her back up to her feet when she’d be close to giving up- but that didn’t mean he wanted to watch her fly away from the front row seats, no, he’d rather see his swan take flight with grace and elegance from the sidelines, he’d be there, he’d always be there, but like her shadow, after all, he too was afraid of being hurt, he couldn’t handle it, not again, after all, they were just neighbours.
A tap on the window had him jerking back into sitting properly, blinking away the blurriness he turned to the window, eyes widening at the figure outside before lowering the window, “What are you-
“Need a ride?” she smiled, trying to conceal any other emotion bubbling within her, her grip on the umbrella tightening when she noticed his frown, not responding to her question, though she could see the questions swirling in his eyes, possibly at the tip of his tongue, but she knew he’d never ask, just keep them in, let them simmer into something else, probably guilt…or anger.
“I had to do a complete inventory check today so I closed up late. Was driving by and I saw your car…” gesturing towards her own car that was parked in front of his, the hazards blinking in the rain.
“My car…broke down.” He mumbled, before reaching for his bag and nodding at her, letting her move back before coming out of the car, waiting for the rain to pour down on his already defeated parade, but that didn’t happen, for she had extended her arm to full height, tilting forward so he was covered by it, letting the water splash onto her head instead. There she went again, worrying about him, trying to rip open the bag he was gripping onto tight, not wanting anything to spill out.
.
Patting the droplets off her she pulled out a few tissues and dried her hands. He sat next to her, buckled up, laptop bag on his lap, even though she had told him to put it on the backseat but he refused, holding onto it like a child throwing a tantrum. They’d been driving silently for a while, the only sound between them was of the rain slapping against her little red card.
“Thanks.”
“For what?” she asked, trying not to speed on the slippery highway, the rain had worsened, who knew a light shower was going to turn into a full-blown storm? The problem wasn’t the rain in general but visibility was becoming an issue, well, there was this third party between them, a form of invisible wall that was keeping the two apart, or rather he was being pulled away, while she just held onto him, trying to pull him back to her, though ever so slowly she could sense that he was letting go of her hand.
He never responded to her question, just continuing with the silent treatment. Sighing out of frustration she flicked the left blinker before slowly parking across the yellow line at the side of the road, before them the road was barely visible, she thought he’d question but he didn’t he wasn’t stupid, even though he didn’t want to be here, stuck in the same space as her, too afraid he’d blurt out all he had hidden, he knew even if he took the wheel instead of her, he couldn’t see through the rain. So, the two sat in silence, as if the other wasn’t there, one of the most awkward the two had been with each other like they were strangers all over again. That is until she finally decided to take matters into her own hands,
“Are you…upset with me?”
He looked up from his lap to her, a small pout present on his lips before shaking his head and turning back to stare at his lap.
“Do you…not want to be friends with me anymore?” she knew these questions were somewhat pointless, in the time they had spent together she had learned one thing, that he was rarely bothered by her, in fact sometimes he’d go out of his way to make her feel better, make her feel safer, so what bothered her was not knowing what had he pulling away like this. She thought as she’d grown more independent, he’d be happy, proud of her progress, not this.
“No.”
Was all he said, not even bothering to look at her, instead choosing to take out his phone, maybe he could just check on work or- he couldn’t though, because she snatched it out of his hand. His head whipped in her direction, and a glare followed, “Give it back.” He spat only for her to shake her head and shove it in the pocket of her, shaking her head.
“I said give it back. I’m not joking. I’m not in the mood.” Groaning he leaned closer to her, trying to reach for her pocket but she slapped his hand off his pocket, only for him to grip her wrist, trying to hold his anger at bay.
“Not until you tell me why you hate me!” she yelled tugging her wrist out of his grasp.
“I DON’T HATE YOU!” he yelled back, turning to her completely, his laptop bag falling off his lap, God this car for so small, he barely had leg room!
“THEN WHY ARE YOU PULLING AWAY!”
“BECAUSE I CAN’T STAND AND WATCH WHILE YOU LEAVE ME BEHIND!”
“I- she froze at his words, the weight of the statement settling in around them. Letting out a sigh he turned around, rubbing his face with his hands, trying to control his breathing, trying to stop his thoughts from running around, pushing and shoving every emotion he had buried in below. For a moment he even thought of stepping out in the rain to cool down, but the gentle grip of his shoulder stopped him.
“Mr.Choi please I would never leave you behind, I-
“Oh, stop it, would you.” He scoffed, brushing her hand off his shoulder, “I’ve known you for what? Six, seven months now and you still don’t call me by my first name, I- I literally use your name and you’re so impersonal that –
“I don’t know your first name.”
Once again, they were greeted with silence, at this point the sound of the rain was the only thing keeping the two from exploding at one another, a series of bottled-up feelings, emotions that were untouched for so long, that the layer of dust on them had turned into a sheet of sand, one that had obscured rationality and logic.
“What” Taking in a deep breath he began, “What do you mean?”
Rolling her eyes at him she huffed, “Because you never told me, not once, since the day I met you the only way I found out your last name too was because the security guard greets you as Mr.Choi, and he did that the first next you dropped me home.” Taking the phone out of her pocket she placed it on the dashboard in front of him, “I don’t know why you think I’d leave you; I now own the apartment next to you thanks to you, I have dinner with you almost every other day, I let you carry me around when I’m tired, I cook meals for you not because I am obligated but because I want to, I- I ask you for help all the time with the full confidence that you’ll never say no”, pausing she looked at the road, the rain had slowed, much like the whirlpool of unkempt emotions that were stirring between them, “ and if you haven’t realised by now, I’m not very big on change. So, no, Mr.Choi, I’m not going anywhere, anytime soon.”
“San” he whispered, staring at the road ahead, much like her, too afraid to even look at her, who knew all it would take was a confession like that to calm him down, put his worries to rest, untying the bag he had knotted up so well after he had his broken heart handed back to him.
“Nice to meet you San.” Was all she said before starting the car, now driving home, after the much fearsome, prolonged storm. No other words were exchanged, but unlike before, the silence was no longer awkward or heavy, it was pleasant, a new kind of pleasant, one that oddly enough he was welcoming.
The ride up the elevator was no different, the two were walking casually like nothing had happened, though San knew something had happened, and for some reason, the bitter-sweet reality of it made him want something more to happen, he was only looking for the right moment for it to happen.
She was about to enter her apartment when he called her out, causing her to turn around and almost bump into him, when had he come so close?
“I don’t want to be just neighbours anymore.”
Facing him properly she nodded looking up at him, “I see, then what do you want?”
“I…” averting his gaze he thought for a moment, wondering if he could jump into it, or take caution and slowly see where it goes, though the little critter in his chest was begging him to let loose, his rationality projected by his fears had him second-guessing almost every micro decision he had come up with in these seconds, “I…want…more?”
“Then,” pursing her lips together she narrowed her eyes at him, moving closer to see if he’d move back, but he didn’t, he stood there, staring at her intently, shy yet so curious, she’d barely ever seen him like this before, her lips curving into a smile, “Let’s take it slow?”
He nodded a bit too eagerly at her question, earning a chuckle from her, as she turned around and pointed inside, “Dinner? Though it’s late, I can make us something light?” He had followed her inside that night, somewhat nervous about starting a new chapter in his life, yet, excited like a little boy about to win a race.
.
“Mr.Choi, there’s uhh…there’s someone here to meet you?” Mingi’s voice blared out of the speaker causing San to stop typing, frowning at the time, it was 11 am he had no meetings for the day, so why would someone just pop up, Yeosang was on leave today as well so- the door opened and he could hear Mingi calling someone out, “Miss! Wait Mr.Choi hasn’t allowed you to-
“It's…fine Mingi.” He nodded at his assistant, before his eyes locked with her, her smile radiant as ever, as she coly made her way to his desk, “Hi San.” ‘San’, she’d been using his name more often now, all night even at dinner, she’d somehow slip it in every sentence and he’d somehow slip into that gooey pool of mush every time his name would roll off her tongue.
“You- you had a day off today, right? Do you want to spend time together, I-“ he stood up, quickly trying to clean his desk though she placed something on the empty corner of the glass table, “I just came to drop off your lunch San, I made special cookies today, and if you like them, we’ll introduce them, Wooyoung even decided a name for them.”
“Oh?” he asked, his eyes sparkling at the sight of the lunch boxes, a well-fed boy was a happy boy and he was so glad she’d feed him well, even when they were ‘just neighbours’. So, knowing she was still doing that, only adding onto the perk by coming to him and surprising him at work had something within him strangling his heart in joy, “What’s the name?”
“Well…initially it was something I wanted to talk to you about if you’d be okay if I call you that, but then he said we could name them after that, but I feel like only I should be allowed to call you that.” She cleared her throat looking around his spacious office, she never thought his office would be this big or high up for the matter, not a day went by where this man didn’t amaze him.
He stopped opening the boxes to look up at her, “What do you want to call me?”
“Sannie.”
.
Things had been great, well, somewhat, although they were ‘no longer neighbours’, there was still no official label and it confused San how she was alright with that. Sure, they’d spend more time together now, she’d drop by sometimes before lunch just to drop off his lunch, but he was still San at work, and only Sannie when the two were alone. Moreover, they’d never really been…physical. Not that he didn’t want to ‘do the deed’ or something- well, technically- no he did but, this isn’t what he meant, he knew they were taking it slow, but sometimes, he’d feel the affectionate Sannie resurface and it would take everything in his power to hold him back. What if she wasn’t into that? What if she thought he was clingy overbearing or too sensitive? Would she think he’s coming on too strong if he asked ‘what they were’?
“Sannie?” she asked, poking his shoulder, “You aren’t eating, don’t like the food or the movie?” Placing her plate on the coffee table she paused the film when he didn’t look at her, “Sannie…you gotta talk to me about these things, I can’t read your mind-
“Would you like to start a business venture with me?” In front of him was not her Sannie or San, no, turning to face her with a hard face and honest eyes was a man sitting up straight, hands pressed against his knees, it was Mr.Choi.
“Umm…I…like a collaboration?”
“Yes, of sorts.”
“I…I mean I don’t really need Jongho’s permission it is just my business.”
“It is.”
“I guess…but don’t you already have a job, San?” was he planning on quitting?
“I do, but this venture is more important, I prefer it over my job.”
“Sannie, my café is doing good, but quitting your job for it, especially at the designation you’re at it’s not logical-
“Be my girlfriend”, he yelled in frustration, cutting her off before meekly averting his gaze, “Please…”
“I…” she took a minute to think before scooting closer to him, his fingers digging into the material of his pants, though when she placed her hands over his, he visibly relaxed, “I just love how you’re so uptight Mr.Choi.”
She smiled, but he only frowned at that, why would she call him by his last name? Did he do anything to upset her? Was he perhaps moving too quickly for her liking? Or should he have been more romantic- actually this wasn’t really romantic at all, he can’t believe he just did that, he should’ve thought this through, he should’ve planned properly, it had only been a month and –
His brain switched off because of the sudden pressure on his lips, hands automatically reaching to hold onto the source, she was…kissing him? His eyes closed when she slowly moved closer, helping her onto his lap as he tilted his head to deepen the kiss, taking charge, until she slowly pushed him back, his back pressing against the sofa, eyes flickering open to meet her flushed face, a small smile gracing her lips, he had smudged her lipstick- nice.
“Do I…take that as a yes?” he sighed, body completely relaxed, his hands giving her waist a gentle squeeze.
“I don’t know, maybe we should seal the deal again?”
His chuckle echoed across the room, film and food long forgotten, the only thing he could focus on was her, and slowly, he began to feel as if the gates he was trying to keep closed were merely inches away from bursting open.
.
“We need to talk.”
“Um…okay, why are you slowly letting go of the weights- Jongho, Jongho, buddy, stop.” He wheezed, looking up at his spotter who was glaring down at him, “How serious are you?” he asked lifting the weights ever so slightly.
“FOR STAYING ALIVE, PRETTY SERIOUS- JONGHO!” he gasped when the man almost let go of the weight.
“Should we…stop them?” Wooyoung asked, yes, he too had become their newest addition to their gym buddies’ group, Yeosang who was walking on the treadmill beside him shrugged, “I don’t think so, this is between them, plus knowing San took a year just to confess to her, even though he was treating her like he was her boyfriend, I believe Jongho has every right to harass him.”
“I’m serious.” Jongho warned, glaring at the man who was not only turning blue but was now drenched in cold sweat, shaking his head and pleading out an ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
“I mean her, I’ve had to pick up the pieces once and I let it go because the guy wasn’t directly involved, but you- you son of a- you have her sitting at the café daydreaming about what you’d like to eat at night. You have her calling me at night asking me what shirt you’d think she looks best in? Would you prefer her in pants or a skirt- you have her working her ass off to make you proud and so help me God if you ever even think of hurting her-
Before he could finish his monologue San threw the weights off him, heaving as he stood up, wiping the drool off his mouth with the back of his hand as he stood up straight, his breathing heavy as he looked directly at Jongho, “Never. Do that. Again. And I may be a slow-witted loser but I am no abuser- and her” he turned to look at the hoodie on the opposite bench, a blue hoodie, there was nothing special about the hoodie, but the fact that it was the first ever gift she had given him, telling him she had a matching one, so they could wear it together at home, “I don’t even think I spend a single moment of my pathetic life where I can’t be thinking about her.”
By now Yeosang and Wooyoung had gotten off the treadmills and were standing on standby just in case things escalated, but San’s confession had them staring at him in awe. Well, Wooyoung was just glad that the clown had stopped clowning himself, but Yeosang, no, he was thrilled if not glad that San had finally accepted to let himself be happy once more, he had allowed himself to love once more- even if this was just the first stage, even if they were still going through their awkward relationship stages, he was just glad to know that things were getting better for San.
Jongho looked at him before nodding, then turning to point at the weights, “Throwing gym equipment is stupid, no wonder people like you who make so much money are careless.” Clicking his tongue at him he picked up his duffle bag, “Anyway, Shakespeare, Imma hit the showers, don’t forget she’s making you pasta tonight, so you better hurry up.” He left San standing there, letting his own speech process, slowly the seed had begun to germinate and deep down he knew, he was counting on it to turn into a field, one she could run around in, laughing with joy.
.
Sighing she slowly pulled away from him, being extremely careful of two things; firstly, to not wake him up and secondly to not cause any harm to his sheets. She didn’t want to stay at his place tonight, she even told him no because he had an early meeting tomorrow, and she was on her… period, so to sleep over with her new boyfriend and possibly leak on his pristine white sheets was not on the agenda, that and the fact that the cramps were hitting hard and her back was probably broken just made it more difficult for her to find the perfect position.
So, that’s how she found herself sitting on his couch, hoping to God that the pain medicine would start working soon, or maybe it could take a few hours and San could get a good night’s rest and by the time he’s about to wake up, she’d slip right back in and-
“Are you okay?”
“SHIT” throwing a cushion at him she whined, especially when it hit him square in the face, causing him to stumble back, pouting at her, “What did I do?”
“I’m sorry, Sannie, I- I’m fine I promise, I just couldn’t sleep and your sheets are clean and-
“Yes, I am aware my sheets are clean, so you don’t have to worry-
“That’s why I am worried,” she sighed only for it to turn into a groan as she hugged herself, trying to ease the pain. Oh, he looked at her, he’d seen this before, he knew what had happened, “Do you think I’ll find it weird if you…I mean…It's normal if it happens right?”
“It's gross.” She mumbled only for him to sigh and slowly reach for her arm, “Do you want me to carry you?” he asked as if it was completely normal, umm…it wasn’t technically? He’d just carry her around when she’d refuse to do something or when he was in his playful Sannie mood- which was often only behind closed doors when the suit didn’t define him.
“nO” Quickly getting up she motioned for him to walk first, “Why-“
“JUST DO IT” she yelled only for him to quickly turn around and head towards his bedroom, no need to piss off his girlfriend during that time of the month. Huffing out in frustration she ‘readjusted’ her pants, trying to reposition the horrid excuse of a lady diaper, no, she did not want him to see this scene, it was not even remotely attractive.
Sighing she laid down next to him, what she had forgotten was how much this man loved physical affection because as soon as she turned to face him, he pulled her closer, her face pressing into his neck as he rested his chin on top of her head, an arm under her head acting as his pillow and the other one securely wrapped around her waist. Now she needed to stay still, especially when she heard him snore, he had fallen asleep so quickly, of course, he was tired, the guilt slowly settling in. She really should have gone home tonight.
Her body jerked when a sharp pain shot across her lower half, her fingers gripping his shirt as she held her breath, trying to restrict extra movements. At this point she could just wither away in pain, waiting for the meds to work before she wakes him up and he throws her out for not letting him get a decent night’s sleep.
For a few moments, her little movements continued until he abruptly pulled away and wordlessly sat up, to reach for something on his nightstand, probably his phone- man, she should really apologise and leave now, but before she could make her way off the bed he turned around and stood on his knees, slowly pushing her to lay on her front, “Umm…San?”
“Your back hurts, right?” he mumbled, gently lifting her shirt to reveal some of the skin, “I hope this helps, my sister recommended it.” With that he began to rub the ointment on her lower back, trying to mimic the similar motions she’d use while working on his neck or shoulders from time to time- yes, he had finally obtained that perk. He only stopped when she completely relaxed under his touch, smiling when he realised, she was asleep, gently pulling her shirt back down he got off the bed, tucking her in, making sure to place a glass of water and a bottle of painkillers on the bedside. Little did she know that she had been in pain all night and not just a few minutes, she dozed off sometime in between only to wake up in pain again, though he had slept through most of it peacefully, which is why when he woke up, feeling her shiver in pain, he realised getting up a few minutes before his alarm rang wouldn’t be so bad, he could use the time to help her out, so while reaching for the ointment he had also shut off his alarm, knowing he wouldn’t be going to sleep once he helped her out.
.
“Ignoring you?” he asked, wiping another cup and handing it to her as she stacked it on the rack with a pout, “Well, not ignoring, he’s just…gone quiet like he’s giving me the silent treatment.” She explained, looking to see if Jongho, who was brooming was listening to them, only to find him staring at her, “Oh I don’t know maybe he’s upset about the fact that your ex-fiancé came here since you invited him?”
“Wait- WAIT WHAT?” Wooyoung gasped, turning to Jongho who nodded, “Soohyuk wanted to see her, and she won’t tell me why, she called him here and ironically he and San had entered at the same time, and instead of introducing him to Soohyuk she just talked to him and ignored San.”
“Man, I’m never gonna take an off again, so much drama in one day.” Was all Wooyoung had said, yet the poor boy got smacked with a tissue, before watching her stomp out of the café, leaving the two men staring at her confused.
“Umm…do we stop her?”
“Nah…” was all Jongho said, the only reason he even knew about this issue was because the moment he had seen Soohyuk enter he knew something was up, what he didn’t expect was for her to go to him instead of San, and ironically, she didn’t even introduce San, which confused him even more. The moment he had looked at the other man, he noticed the way his eyes had gone blank, void of any emotion, yet he could see the one hiding behind his eyes, he knew what he was thinking, one of the many things San had confessed to him about- once the two had become official and Jongho would keep tabs on him- was his fear of being left behind, knowing that one day, eventually everyone would leave him, even her. So, yes, when she had walked past the finance director like he was a mere stranger, he knew this would trigger San, he just didn’t know in which direction the river would flow.
A knock on the door caused the two to look up, Yeosang just sighed, “At this point, you should just fire Mingi.” Shaking his head at his friend San called out to the person, permitting them to enter, usually with the glass walls and door he could see who was on the other side, but for the past two days the blinds were lowered, concealing whatever was happening inside his office, much like whatever was happening inside his heart. The door opened to reveal someone he had been avoiding for the past few days, though he never said anything to make her leave.
Yeosang looked at San’s expression morph into displeasure, turning in his seat to find the man’s significant other standing there, quickly standing up he smiled at her, greeting her before excusing himself.
Honestly, she was surprised by Yeosang’s reaction, she thought he’d be upset with her, Jongho was upset with her and considering Yeosang and San were good friends, she presumed that San might’ve just told him about the issue, though maybe he didn’t or maybe he did and Yeosang is just very good at pretending.
“You could’ve called.” Was all he had said until he found her standing right next to him, her hands gripping onto the armrests of his chair, turning his swivel chair to face her, his eyes widening at the proximity, they were still at his workplace, what if someone barged in? What if Mingi came in?
“I can’t fall behind, I’m tired of falling behind.” She said leaning closer, not to kiss him, but to make sure he was still looking at her, she needed him to understand her perspective, needed him to understand her insecurities, “He knows about you.”
Scoffing in retaliation he leaned closer and hissed, “I don’t care if he does,” eyes scanning her face for any hint or gesture of insincerity, but he couldn’t see it, or perhaps his foolish heart had convinced him once more, deceiving him into making him believe she was his.
“Then why are you upset?” her hands let go of the chair, reaching for his, but he pulled back, crossing his arms over his chest, leaning back against the chair as he stared up at her, “Falling behind? What do you mean by that, was this all a race or competition where you were trying to win him ba-
“Choose your words carefully Mr.Choi.” she cut him off, words seething with anger.
“Because they’re true?” coking his head to the side he noticed the way her hands were fisted at her sides, nails digging into her palms, “Tell me.”
“I…” letting out a shaky breath she looked at her shoes, no longer having the confidence to look at his face, “I couldn’t let him…I didn’t know what he was…going to say…I can’t lose you; I didn’t want to…he came to apologise…nothing more, nothing less. I didn’t want you to meet someone who never saw me the way you see me, what if you realised…that it wasn’t worth it anymore more…that it was a waste of time.” Walking over to the chair at the other end of the table she sat down, eyeing all his paperwork, “I…I’m sorry, I should’ve told you, I can’t hold you back just because I’m left behind all the time.”
He watched her intently, listening to each word, slowly realising what she meant, but he also came to another realisation, they were still walking on eggshells, especially around each other, choosing not to show their greys to each other, choosing to leave out the bad parts of the story, the poorly written scenes and the abrupt jump cuts, yet, this form of false perfection was what was making it worse for them, worse for him, especially when he knew that he no longer liked her. He no longer felt the same attraction- he felt more.
He was in love with her.
Turning to face her, he took a deep breath, his hands on the table, slowly reaching over to hold hers, his thumbs running soothing circles over her hands, “I…I was…I…I don’t want you to leave me too. Before you, there was someone else.”  He felt her go tense under his words, his eyes flickered to hers, noticing the settling anxiety, before he gave her a gentle smile, “Was…don’t worry, she didn’t want my heart anymore and I…I guess I didn’t want to give it to anyone anymore either. Until you came along, crying outside because you lost the key to your own apartment…I swear I was going to ignore you and leave, but…” Letting out a dry chuckle he glanced at the clock, she often did come by when it was lunch, maybe he’d take her somewhere special today, far from the office and the café, “I couldn’t, and I don’t know how…maybe because you were so patient with me, maybe I saw myself in you, I wanted to make sure you had someone to help you whenever you’d fall…but I was also scared that if I gave you my heart, you’d give it back and…f*ck Yeosang was right.” He sighed, giving up on where this was going, trying to pull his hands back but her grip tightened, causing him to look at her in surprise.
“He was…but I like it…I like that you’re a romantic, Sannie.” She smiled lacing their fingers together, “I won’t force you…but I need you to understand that I…I fell in love with you the day you unlocked my door for me… I just waited for the day you’d return the feelings…so yeah, I’ll confess, that I’ve loved you from the start.”
His eyes widened at the confession, face turning pink at the realisation, this must be love. The feeling that was brewing inside of him, ready to burst, this must be love. His whole body felt warm and fuzzy, he wanted to run to her and pull her close, almost engulfing her whole being, but his legs felt like jelly, this must be love. Though he didn’t need to get up, because she had come to him, smiling down at him as she cupped his face, her thumb stroking his cheek, he looked up at her through hooded eyes, enjoying the warmth, welcoming this nostalgic sensation, this must be love.
“I love you.” He whispered, hands gripping her waist, fingers digging into her, holding onto her as if he were afraid, she’d disappear.
“It’s about time you realise.” Letting out a chuckle she leaned closer, brushing her lips over hers, about to say something when they heard a static sniff followed by a sob, both of them freezing in act.
“Mingi…how long have you been there for?”
“I forgot to tell you your mic was on…sir.”
.
“Couple’s activities?” he mumbled, staring up from his book, his reading glasses at the tip of his nose as his girlfriend at the edge of the bed, legs crossed with a magazine in her lap, successfully stealing yet another one of his hoodies. The glow of the lamp illuminated her innocent features, though he knew behind those sparkly eyes hid some agenda that he would soon regret, even though he loved her with all his heart, he had realised long before that being an only child meant that her parents had always kept her busy, books, movies, school, other activities, even got her a Jongho- now that Jongho had completely passed her onto him, it was his job to entertain his princess in the late hours of the night.
“So…like se-
“No, you pervert- my God, all men are the same.” She huffed picking up the magazine to show him the list on the glossy, extremely bright coloured paper, the glare of the lamp just making it more difficult for him to read, “That’s a long list- I’m not going skydiving- YOU AREN’T either.”
“Sheesh, fine, but we can try cutting your hair.”
His hand instinctively went to his luxurious onyx locks, he liked his hair the way it was, and he knew she did too, from how she’d run her fingers through it when they’d be lazing around, from how she’d play with his hair when he’d lay on her lap for a little nap, from how she’d tug and pull on it when they’d be…
“Just a trim!” she broke his chain of thoughts, crawling to him and slapping the magazine on his lap, “You said you needed a trim! And- and it’ll be free!” she smiled, giving him the cutest face she could muster, though he stared back at unamused.
“No.”
“I- but- Sannie,” whining she pointed at the small text, “It’s so intimate and it’s- it’s all about trust.” Grabbing his arm she shook him violently, he almost missed the early stages of their relationship, where she was still shy and nervous around him, now she’d gained the confidence to be bratty around him, even demanding they sleep at his place because ‘You have a bigger bathtub’, incorrect, he didn’t but maybe she just liked using his shampoo- not that he’d mind, he preferred her smelling like she belonged to him, his scent carrying around her.
“How about a free massage as well?”
"There. All done." He finally opened his eyes to stare at his reflection in the mirror, confused at first, then angered, then even a bit humoured, "Um...what do u think is different with this and my usual haircut?" It was his fault, it really was, he agreed to this nonsense and now…he even fell asleep when she was working on his shoulders, but that was before she cut- no chopped off his beautiful locks.
"I... I mean it's a bit different Sannie but I-" she tried to clarify, smoothening it down, only to flatten it and…perhaps make it a bit worse, see, the thing was, during her little barber role-play, she had realised she’d trimmed a bit too much on one side, so she had to even it out and that led to umm…well
'I look like a POTATO!" her glared at her through the mirror, face red with embarrassment.
"NOOO! U don’t" whining she leaned closer to peck his cheek but he pulled away, whipping his head in her direction to glare at her, then looked at his hair through the mirror again, hands going to pull on the short hair, it was so…short, "Please, I love you, I know you said haircutting is a couple's activity but- babe I"
Hearing a sniff, he stopped staring up at her reflection, he didn't mean for her to cry, but the way she was biting her lower lip tugged at his heart. "I-"
Before he could start a giggle escaped her and he stopped, glaring at her, his face blank like the first time they met, "Ma’am, is something funny?"
"No....Mr.Potato head"
.
“Good morning Mr.Choi - what's up with this cap" Mingi looked at his boss who zoomed past him into the office, tugging on his baseball cap, slamming the door behind him as he yelled.
"Nothing Mingi, whatever happens, DO NOT let Yeosang in my office today"
"He's already there, sir."
Frowning San turned to meet eyes with a familiar brunette, his chin in his palm as he sat on San’s seat, a little smirk ever so present as he eyed the taller man, all dressed up in a nice suit, the only thing odd about him was the smudged lipstick on his jaw, which he probably didn’t even know was there and the baseball cap.
"Your girlfriend dropped you off huh? Car trouble again?'" Yeosang asked, before pointing at his jaw, “You also got a little something there Mr.Choi, guess the black waistcoat is a fan favourite, huh?”
San quickly made his way to his desk, grabbing the chair the other man was on and rolling it away from his monitor, mumbling as he grabbed a few tissues to wipe off the lipstick, he couldn’t even be mad at her because it was his idea to follow couple’s activity #43 ‘Wear a lipstick shade your partner likes’, apparently, he liked it a bit too much.
After that little entrance, they’d been sitting peacefully, with San working away and Yeosang…well he was just wasting time as usual, though at least he had yet to ask the question.
“So, what’s with the cap”, Yeosang asked as he made an intricate paper plane with another one of San's documents, they were going in the shredder anyway.
The other man, pouted for a split second before clearing his throat, "My head feels cold." continuing typing like he didn't care.
"I see." Yeosang eyed him before throwing the plane at him, watching the pointy nib smack against the man's cap, earning a glare, "So, will you bring her as your plus one to this annual fundraiser? Has she cleared all your tests? Check marks all your boxes of requirements of a partner?"
Sighing he leaned back at the thought, did she? Was she the ideal partner he asked for? Sure, she was somewhat clumsy and bratty, but then again, he wasn't the best either, he was whiney and slow-witted at times but with what they two had been through, how much they had grown, how much she had grown, of course she'd been the one, he had come to this realization when he saw her waiting outside for him in the rain, 'worried about him'.
"I'll take that as a yes," he said eying the man who was too lost in thought as he got up to leave, "By the way she was wrong."
"Hmm?" he frowned at his friend who was dusting off his clothes, "You don't look cute, you do look like Mr Potato head".
.
“San, I swear upon your Benz, if you turn off the heater, I’ll key your car.” She shivered, pulling another blanket over them as he pushed it off, trying to reach over her for the remote of the heater only to slap his hand away, “YAH CHOI SAN”
“ITS HOT! AND STUFFY! I’M SWEATING LOOK!” he lifted his sweatshirt for-  honestly, she really forgot what his point was, a bit too distracted for her own good before he huffed and took it off completely, flinging it across the room, giving her all the blankets and laying on his back, “It’s barely even winter, and look at you. I said don’t go playing in the snow, you can barely withstand a cool breeze, you thought the snow was gonna go easy on you? You’re just like Wooyoung, both of you are the same with the snow and winter.”
“Well, not everyone has the body temperature of an old, grumpy cat, Sannie.” She huffed, scooting closer to him, trying to steal his body heat, the fabric of the quilt making his skin burn.
“OLD?”
“Well, I did call you Mr.Choi out of respect too, I thought you were wayyyyyyyyyyy older than me.” Turning his head on the pillow to look at her, he made a face, rolling his eyes at the innocent smile she gave him, the tip of her nose still pink, shrugging at him. Sighing he moved closer to her, much to her pleasure.
“Take off your pants.”
“You really are an old pervert-
“Couple’s activity #136, you genius.” He huffed manoeuvring so he was under the blankets with her.
“I refuse to accept we’ve done so many.”
“We haven’t, I tore out some pages because I was not going to do couple’s yoga on the balcony.”
“Ah…I see. Anyway, still not going to take off my pants because you’re a bit needy.” She sighed, when he pulled her closer, his body heat helping her shivering body calm down.
“Well, aren’t you just an innocent peach, activity 136 says sharing body warmth is important and intimate, you can use me as a human heater and I can use you like a cooling pack.” He said tugging at the band of her pants, helping her out of them, sighing when he felt her cold legs on his warm ones, making the blanket a bit more bearable.
“Who knew Sannie was so thoughtful.” She purred, nuzzling her face in his neck, earning a huff, his arms tightening around her, squeezing her until she let out an airy laugh in protest.
“I am very thoughtful.” He sighed, feeling her relax against him.
“That you are…Mr.Potato head.”
.
Huffing out in both frustration and bliss she stared up at the ceiling, the warm mood lights in her room, feeling him flopping down beside her, the bed trembling at the act.
“Tub’s filling up. You’re also out of bath bombs”
“Your tub is bigger- how many did you use this time?”
“No. It is not…. around four” He sighed laying on his back to stare up at the ceiling with her, his hands reaching for hers, knuckles brushing against hers before she slowly tangled their fingers together, “Thank you for taking me to your event tonight…I really liked it.”
“Thank you for being my plus one.” He smiled, thinking back to how when anyone and everyone there would ask him who she was he’d introduce her as his girlfriend, the love of his life, someone he potentially wanted to spend the rest of his life with.
“Though I believe making sure I can’t walk tomorrow is going to be a problem for me at work.”
“Couple’s activity #159.”
“Did it specify tearing my favourite dress?”
“No, but the San in the mirror who used to have nice hair told me to.”
.
Two years, she had been together with this man for two very happy years, yet he still could confuse her every time he asked her something very important, such as now, right in her café, well, technically she was in the storage closet, counting and restocking when he walked in unannounced.
“Umm…is there no one there to take your order, Sannie?” she asked, looking up at him, using a carton as a makeshift seat, clipboard in her lap, she didn’t even want to do it, but once again, she had lost an epic battle of rock paper scissors from not only Jongho, but Wooyoung as well. The man above her frowned before shaking his head, ever so quiet.
“Okay…was there no one to stop you from coming back here- in an employee-only area.” She asked as he shook his head again, before sitting down beside her on the floor legs crossed, now with the different of elevation, looking up at her with a frown.
“Okay…do you…want to say something?”
“What’s your five-year plan?” he asked, rolling up his sleeves before looking at her, his hands on his knees, rubbing his sweaty palms on his pants.
“Ummm…well…what does that mean?” she asked, finally giving up on inventory to get on the floor with him, facing him, sitting in a similar position as she looked at him, noticing how he had closed the storage room door after entering, he needed privacy, so this was an important question to him.
“Where do you see yourself in Five years?”
Oh.
Her eyes widened at the question, throat drying up as she looked at anything but his face, he looked so serious, so focused, like what he had asked her was just like a business deal, well, maybe it was- but that wasn’t all it was, she knew what he meant, she knew he’d have his moments of self-doubt, he’d have moments where the crippling anxiety of having his heart smashed into pieces once more had him awake at night, he’d have his moments where he’d begin to fall, having nothing to hold onto- only this time, he had her.
“I see myself as a Mrs.Choi.”
His ears picked up the all-too-familiar name, his lips quirking up at the mention of his name, blushing like a school girl he almost squealed, leaning over to grab her hands and pull her closer, only his lack of judgement of strength had him pulling her onto his lap- or maybe that is what he wanted to do all along. All she knew was that she was merely inches away from him, his small dimpled smile gracing her with all its glory, “I think I see that too.”
“Yeah?” she giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck as she straddled his lap properly, “You see me as a Mrs.Choi?”
“No.” he smiled, locking his arms behind her waist as he noticed her small pout in confusion, pulling her even closer, until the tips of their noses bumped at the sudden jerk, “I see myself as your Mr.Choi.” His dimples deepened when she gasped, before closing the gap between them, leaving small pecks all over his face, leaving him a flustered, blushing mess as she smothered him with all the love that he had closed himself off to, all the love that was taken from him when his heart was tossed back at him, all the love she had in her that was never meant for anyone else other than him, all the love the two planned to share, for as long as they could, hoping it could bloom into something more beautiful one day.
“And I think I see you two getting out of my storage closet before I call the cops.”
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Taglist : @edenesth @mlysalt @spooo00oky @cereal-simp @yessa-vie
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r0ttenhearts · 10 months
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wasted on you |||
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idol scaramouche x reader
part Ii
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“ohmygosh, have you heard 4nemo’s new single?
“it’s sooo good (y/n!) you have to listen to it.”
“who’s your favorite one? mine would have to be scaramouche.”
your smile would always falter at the mention of his name. not like your friends ever knew you were acquaintanced with the idol group. “i don’t really like idol stuff, it’s not my thing.” you would always brush them off, refusing to take one of their earbuds to listen to the songs they wanted to show you.
hearing scaramouche’s voice again wouldn’t help you, not when you’ve gotten this far. not when you’ve moved on from him.
with college exams over and the end of your final year coming to a close you found yourself with nothing but time. with time came too many thoughts that would tumble around in your mind. too many what if’s and what could have been’s had plagued your mind since leaving scaramouche there backstage.
leaving him was so difficult, but being without him felt harder. you couldn’t help but sigh, now sitting alone in your room as the memories came back to you.
memories of splitting popsicles with him, after rehearsal drinks with his friends, smoking in a field together one of the rare times he was free from his filled schedule.
sometimes you couldn’t help but miss it. but then came the.. not so pleasant memories. the tears, the sore throat after screaming at each other, the way he’d always leave after an argument.
“please, scara! i just want you here with me. just this once. it’s been three years. give me this at least, please. i haven’t seen you in so long.”
remembering your own pleads to him never failed to make your heart ache. it still felt as if there was something unresolved, even after giving him his engagement ring back.
“i don’t wanna fucking see you (y/n)! id rather spend time with my friends doing something i enjoy than wasting my time with you.”
here comes the waterworks. tears would prick in the corners of your eyes when you remembered his tone that day. that angry look on his face.. he never looked so bothered before. it scared you so much that you still remembered it now, two years later.
it was strange seeing him on billboards and ads all across town and even on your own phone. in contrast to the angry glare he held for you, but an indifferent look to the public. would he still look at you that way? or would he look at you the same way he would everyone else?
curiosity got the best of you as you tapped on your phone, looking up his profile on instagram. there he was, looking the same as ever. maybe a little thinner but he still looked as beautiful as the day you left him.
a small smile graced your lips for a moment before it fell, seeing how much fun he had been having with his friends. you still kept in contact with kazuha, but never bothered to ask about him. you both knew it wouldn’t be good for you, so it was an unspoken rule.
“at least he’s doing well..” you mumbled to yourself before shutting off your phone. groaning internally, you knew this was a problem you had to deal with. this constant turmoil inside your head.
you decided you’d put an end to this. once and for all. you thought up a plan before texting kazuha, telling him what you wanted to resolve. despite his gentle warnings you wouldn’t listen. you just had to get through to him! make him understand your reasoning.
eventually kazuha gave in, and now you were standing in the pit to one of their concerts. it made you feel queasy remembering the last time you attended one. with your head hung low you waited for the group to start, they were opening for another up and coming idol group. it almost made you smile seeing scaramouche walk on stage with that glittery white outfit. the same glare on his features as before. he didn’t change, did he?
that sentiment making anxiety well up inside of you. you didn’t know how he would take it. seeing you again after so long. but you didn’t want him to know you were there to begin with, so you hid away from view, angled at a way that you could still watch them perform.
watching them now reminded you of one of the first concerts you ever went to of theirs, thanks to scaramouche getting tickets for you. that feeling of bubbling excitement and anxiousness when they were still so early in their career. you used to genuinely hope that they would make it, and they did!
his singing was stronger than it used to be, voice full of emotions as his eyes were fixated on the mic. a part of you missed this. coming to his shows, watching him give his all to the crowd of people that came just to see him and his friends.
as the group left the stage you sent a text to kazuha, walking away from the crowd and to the meeting spot he had told you about. it wasn’t like you didn’t already know where they were going, they always went to the same bar after every performance.
pushing open the grimy doors to the bar, you could see his back as you walked in. scaramouche was sitting at a table with his friends, drink in hand already as you walked up to them. you pulled out a seat next to scaramouche, crossing your arms over your chest as the guys looked at you excitedly, scaramouche not sharing the same sentiment.
“hey guys, long time no see.” heizou laughed loudly, patting scaramouche on his shoulder as they left the table. now it was just you and scaramouche.
he held this look of shock on his face, like he’d seen a ghost. his mouth slightly opening and closing, almost like a fish.
“hey.” you said softly, putting your hand on his arm. “are you real?” he asked you, now looking directly at you rather than trying not to meeting your gaze.
“of course i am, what do you mean by that? have you been dreaming about me too?” you ask, half joking but half serious as he had been plaguing your dreams for the past few months.
“don’t say things like that (y/n)..” he spoke quietly, taking a sip of his beer. you nod silently, watching him take a sip of his drink.
“i know, this is kind of weird. especially since i’m the one that left you but, it’s been haunting me. and i just want to talk.” you admit to him, looking down at your hands. suddenly your nails seemed much more interesting than to look at him.
“yeah, i think we’re due for that.” he said before sliding his drink over, taking your hands in his without warning. “look, (y/n). i know that back then i wasn’t great to you, far from it actually. i’ve thought about what you said to me that night ever since. i’m not asking for your forgiveness, nor am i asking you to get back together with me. but i just want you to know that i’m sorry. i regret wasting us, wasting what we had. i do love being an idol, but it doesn’t give me the same satisfaction as i got when i was with you.”
you nodded silently at his words, looping your arms around his neck as you hugged him. the words you had longed to hear were now finally being said. “that’s all i wanted.” you spoke quietly in his ear, your voice cracking with tears. “i just wanted that from you scara.”
you wiped your tears away as you pulled back, taking one of his hands in both of yours. “i want to be in your life again, not as lovers, not yet. but as friends. i’ve missed you all this time.” scaramouche nodded, taking his free hand and placing it on top of yours. “i can work with that.”
what you both didn’t see were the rest of the boys from 4nemo watching the scene unfold from the bar window. heizou’s loud cheering being shushed by xiao as both of your heads whipped to the window, red covering your faces in embarrassment.
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taglist: @lemons4u @foxkunwoof @s-h-i-r-o-8-1 @felixilations @kaxukaxu @angelofdarkness2 @trxshhsstufftatsumimiko @ycugtf @nervouseaglelover @whorerificstuff @samarill
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residenthughes · 4 months
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persuasion - jack hughes
pairing: jack hughes x fem reader
word count: 5.7k
tags/warnings: college/university au, fluff, slight angst?, fratboy! jack (he's sweet in this, dw), mentions of alcohol/drinking, no mention of y/n
summary: you get a bit more than you bargained for when paired up with all-american hockey star, jack hughes.
notes: hi. it's been a (long) while since i've posted on here. not to mention, i'm back writing about someone a bit different 😭 but i've recently gotten into the nhl and this fic is the result of me drunkenly coming across this photo a few days ago. despite the changes on this blog, i hope this post finds you well and that you enjoy this (poor) attempt of me getting back into writing. much love <3
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The end of the semester couldn’t have come sooner. Swapped with what was possibly the busiest you’ve ever been, the sweet relief after submitting your last assignment was unparalleled and lulled you to a much deserved slumber, only to be awoken by a barrage of messages pinging from your bedside table. Disgruntled, your arm extends in search of your phone, groaning into your damp pillow as you blink away the tired film coating your eyes and read the messages from your best friend.
frat house party tonight, presence is mandatory! 
all the girlies are onboard, your sexy ass better be ready by 9!
Another groan emits from you, exhaustion seeping through your bones at the mere mention of doing something else besides rotting in bed. You’re about to type some incoherent excuse, but your best friend beats you to it.
apparently, z and his guys are going. 
chances are jack’s there too.
There’s a messy stutter in your chest upon reading the message and suddenly, you’re more awake than before as you gingerly sit yourself up in your bed. Of course, she’d mention he was going just to convince you further. You weren’t even aware she knew of your crush. Considering you hadn’t mentioned him much besides when asked, his name being referenced feels more intrusive than it should be. Then again, as perceptive as she is, there was no denying the fact.
Jack and yourself had worked on a group project earlier in the semester, which is how the two of you had crossed paths. Upon hearing of the task at hand, you couldn’t help but let out a sigh because you were never a fan of working with others you didn’t know, but considering none of your friends took your class, it seemed like the perfect opportunity to get to know others and build your social circle. When your assigned group had got together towards the end of the lecture to discuss formalities and such, you hadn’t expected the whirlwind that was to come in the presence of a sandy brunette haired boy. 
Jack is as easy-going as he is charming. Cracks a couple jokes and suddenly, all the ice isolating your group dissolves to water and there are constant hums of conversation bouncing off every member of your group. He’s nice too, considerate of everyone’s schedule and what tasks they felt confident in completing, never uttering a word of complaint unless warranted. It’s interesting, he’s interesting, you think to yourself. Perhaps due to the fact that since he’d revealed himself to be in a frat, you had some preconceived notions as to what his personality would be like and maybe at times, he’d fit that stereotype to a tee, there were other times he’d stray away from it completely and leave you curious as ever.
Peculiar is what you’d describe those few weeks to be, your interest gravitating towards any relation to Jack. Heart beating as you walked past your university’s ice arena, knowing he practically lived on the ice beyond his time in class. Eyes lighting up when he texted in the group chat, mental fuzziness plaguing you every time you sat across from one another as you completed your portion of work in the university’s library. You’d be a fool to dismiss the budding attraction you felt towards him, spinning your world round but also leaving you feeling so unsure of everything, yourself included. There’s no scarcity of girls who like him, it proved to be difficult resisting the All-American hockey star with looks to match. However, taking into account the sheer volume of attention directed his way everyday, your lingering glances didn’t seem to be much more significant. So, one-sided this crush remains to you, storing away the quiet memories of shared laughs and time spent together in a place close to your heart. 
That was until he invited you to his game, shortly after your project had been submitted for assessment. You wanted to go, you wanted to go so badly that you agonised over the decision for longer than necessary, but ultimately, as you laid awake that night, eyes blazing red with fatigue, doom scrolling to further delay your dreams, the evidence for your answer surfaced. It was nothing but a silly Instagram post from one of his friends, Trevor Zegras, the boyfriend to one of your friends. A collection of typical photos: the boys, hockey and more of the antics they got to. It’s in the last slide where in the background of a recent football game is none other than Jack, in all his handsome glory, grinning ear to ear as a girl envelopes him in a hug that feels too intimate to be seen. Embarrassment runs your skin hot and jealousy leaves a bitter taste in your mouth, the thought of you entertaining anything more than platonic with Jack a pipedream at best. Naturally, there can be so many explanations for the photo, but what rings true is that you’ve made yourself vulnerable to heartbreak, which is nowhere to be found on your agenda. So, you call it a night, turning off your phone and hoping to put the crush behind you come tomorrow.
And, it works for a bit. Jack doesn’t text you further and you don’t run into him on campus. Summer soon approaches and the last few days before your break have you buzzing with excitement for all the plans you have lined up. Your world doesn’t hinge on every interaction you have with Jack and your mind is freed from the shackles of mulling over every detail in said interaction. It’s liberating and you’d like to keep it that way. A fleeting crush, you reason, all said and done with. A mantra you repeat to yourself as you respond back to your best friend, gleaming as you and your group chat discuss outfits options and pinterest inspired makeup looks. 
-
There’s nothing better than being with your girls, you’re reminded, as the buzzing excitement never fizzles as the night stretches on. Controlled chaos dominates the night as you pack into one friend’s rooms to get ready together, helping each other with eyelash extensions and annoying back zippers. Someone makes the suggestion to drop by the campus bar for a drink or two, just to ease the nerves, and it turns out to be a great idea because by the time you stumble out of the bar and towards the frat house, the party’s in full swing. 
Trashed lawn and red cup galore, the music somehow manages to reach outside the house with hoards of people dotted around and inside the house. With the merry buzz you’ve got from the bar, confidence details your movements as you lead your friends with clasped hands into the packed house, mumbling a thousand ‘sorry’s as you trample on through the crowded hallways to find yourselves in one (?) of the living rooms. 
Hands suddenly grasp at yours and you’re thrown into a fit of giggles as your friends tangle themselves up in a messy but fun dance. You follow suit, fully relishing in the euphoria of the night and the found family you have in these girls as you dance and chatter until you have no choice to venture into the kitchen for a refreshment. 
Surprisingly, the kitchen is vacant as you push through towards its door you were directed to, scanning the room amongst belongings to find some mixer for your helping of vodka stashed away in your purse. Despite your better judgement, you resort to apprehensively searching through cupboards on your tippy toes in search for mixer and as you’re about to open the last cupboard, the kitchen door opens. 
“Looking for something?”
Goosebumps arise and your heart stills. You know that voice like the back of your hand, the same voice that echoes in the back of your mind and whispers sweet nothings in your ear when you dream. The fact that he’s so ingrained in your memory makes you curse at yourself, teeth gnawing on the plumpiness of your bottom lip as you attempt to recollect your racing thoughts. With a quiet breath, you sink back from your elevated posture and turn towards the source of the voice, blinking like a deer caught in the headlights. 
It’s comical how such a simple sight renders you a loss for words. In the doorway of the large kitchen stands Jack, shoulder and head leaning against the doorframe as he looks at you with an expectant look and a cheeky grin to match. His legs are crossed at the ankles and he’s holding a beer, but he’s got this pearl white long sleeved polo on with washed out jeans and a black snapback to top it all off. The outfit in itself is so simple and yet, here you are, heart being sent into overdrive as the effortless combo drives you wild. Sets your skin alight and conjures up electricity that pulses through you like wildfire.
“Lemonade,” you gracefully croak out, gesturing towards your empty red cup. “I didn’t bring much to mix my drink with.”
“Here, I’ll help you with that,” he reassures you, bouncing off the door frame as he draws closer to you, your feet absently shifting a few steps backwards. “No need to back up. I don’t bite, you know?”
You huff at the comment, realising how foolish his mere presence makes you and will yourself to relax, shoulders easing down from your ears as you watch Jack search through the cupboards. It doesn’t take him long to find what he’s looking for, pulling out a large bottle of lemonade that coasts against the marble of the countertop. 
“Feel free to use as much as you like, I never usually have this myself anyways.” insists Jack, turning himself around with his back against the countertop, arms crossed his chest with a peering eye directed to you. 
“How thoughtful of you.” you jester as a brief chuckle is shared between the two of you, the loud thumps of heavy bass music sounding from beyond the kitchen door as silence settles between the two of you. 
“It’s been a while, how’ve you been?” he asks, undivided attention focused on you as you pour the last of the lemonade. If not for the embarrassment of spilling your drink in front of him, the unsolicited awareness he’s currently given you would have resulted in exactly that, so you stop yourself and give him a convincing smile.
“I’ve been good, thanks. It’s the end of the academic year, I have no more complaints,” you muse, bringing the cup to your lips as you peer over the rim to look at Jack, his long lashes fluttering as his focus remains you. Your heartbeat picks up its pace. “What about you? Frozen four’s a big deal, but winning the championship is even bigger.”
Jack gives a lighthearted laugh, smugness adjusting his posture as his shoulders move back and his chest puffs out. Meanwhile, he gives this half shrug and grin that has heat gravitating towards the apples of your cheeks. It’s one of the things you like about Jack, how confident and sure of himself he is without it being overbearing and unappealing. It feels assuring, not having to dim your own light for the sake of his own comfort. 
“Yeah, that was nuts, I can’t lie. We had a really good run and I think our efforts really showed for themselves in that case,” Jack responds, taking a swig of his beer. “Christ, I sound like I’m talking to the media or something.”
“Well, consider this practice for when you join Jersey in the future,” you simper, snickering as you take a sip of your own drink. “I’m sure you’ll have plenty of fun speaking to the media.”
He gives an eyeroll, amusement prominent in the way his eyes twinkle and you can't help but laugh more. “So you say. How did you even know about Jersey?”
Your laugh is cut short, ice cold realisation washing over you like a bad hangover as his words hang in the air like a gauntlet waiting for its descent. Of course, this was nothing to be caught off-guard by considering how much your university boasts about how Jack, amongst other talented players, were drafted before committing to your university. However, the painful memory of you awake one late night doesn’t escape you, said night spent hesitantly typing his name into Google to come across all the info you knew to confirm how great of a hockey player he was. You feel shameful even looking him in the eyes right now.
So, your eyes stray from him, the somewhat sticky floor being the source of all your interest. “Who doesn’t know? Our uni does a good job of reminding us of everyone that’s been drafted.” 
You decide to spare a glance at Jack, taking in how a pinkish hue decorates the surface of his cheeks as his lone hand goes to scratch the back of his neck. The timidity that clouds his movement evokes a simper out of you, one that you direct into your cup, its contents rapidly draining under the weight of your continued conversation.
“Oh, man. Maybe, I shouldn’t have asked that,” he jokes, smile all pearly white and heart fluttering. “Can’t blame a guy for being nervous, no?”
“Nerv-”
Suddenly, the kitchen door bursts open and a flood of drunken students come barrelling in, hollering as their drinks splash to the floor and chaos ensues. You’re just as confused at their unexpected appearance as you are at the comment Jack made, but before you have a chance to ponder further, a warm hand settles against the small of your back followed by the gentle waft of Jack’s aftershave, a mixture sea salt with a hint of lavender and spicy nutmeg. It takes everything in you for your knees not to buckle.
“Let’s head out back.” he whispers, breath fanning over your neck as his fingertips ignite fire against your skin. 
Abruptly, you clear your throat, mindlessly nodding along as you blindly follow him out back, Jack’s larger build serving as a shield of sorts as he seamlessly navigates his way through the hordes of students. He does so with your hand in his and as much as your internal monologue unleashes panicked squeals at the contact, you revel in his touch - calloused hands that hold yours like porcelain, warm hands that match together like the universe and all its stars. 
A cool breeze blankets your skin and your focus shifts from your inner thoughts, taking in the generous and lush green outdoor space with sparse camping chairs circling a bonfire and a large tree further up ahead draped in fairy lights. There’s some people here too, but the atmosphere is a 180 from the mayhem inside, hushed light-hearted conversations exchanged beside the lit bonfire with the faint smell of weed filtering through the crisp air. The dazzling fairy lights blind you into bumping into Jack’s back, apologising with a laugh before he collapses onto the daisy white hammock before you. 
You follow suit with the carefree attitude Jack gives you, but you miscalculate horrendously because you don’t fall into the place beside your crush, but into his lap. Shock runs through your veins like ice as your bewilderment freezes you in place, mouth gaping open as you turn to face Jack in absolute horror. He seems to fare better with the unexpected contact, enlarged azure eyes showing his awe and yet his hands are in all the right places - supporting your waist as your weightless body struggles to hold its own. 
“I’m-“ the hairs on your neck are standing and you’re close to crying, the heat of your mortification burning your body hot like a furnace. “-so sorry. I didn’t-I didn’t even-“
“Relax, you’re good,” the chill of his beer against your skin sends a shiver down your spine, the feeling intensifying by the thousands as Jack’s thumb gives your exposed skin the smallest caress. You’re sure you’re the personification of shock at how every inch of your features displays pure alarm. “Unless this was your plan?”
You’re shoving him before your brain is able to comprehend its commands, your flustered state leaping out of his lap and collapsing back alongside him this time, hands clasped over your eyes as you take the time to maybe calm down. “What frat house even has a hammock anyways?”
“Rachel - Z’s girl - thought it’d be a nice touch for the garden,” you hear Jack mumble, but you’re too busy nursing your ego to fully immerse in conversation. “You’re friends with her, right? You guys came in together.” 
“Keeping an eye out for me, Hughes?” 
Apparently, your ego isn’t as bruised to make such a comment, a smirk finding itself onto the surface of your face as you’ve yet to remove your hand from your vision.
“It’s hard to keep my eyes off you.” 
You freeze in place, the heaviness in your stomach incomparable with the hammering of your heart against your chest as your brain picks apart Jack’s comment at the speed of light. None of the comments Jack has made throughout your entire conversation have gone over your head, the flirty undertones as clear as day. He wasn’t as up front with his compliments when you two first started working together, the furthest compliment he’d given denoting how nice you looked despite rolling out of bed twenty minutes beforehand. His directness makes your eyebrows furrow, or rather his intentions have you looking around as if you could find some answers. Perhaps this is how Jack is at parties - all pleasant with a careful flirtation that gradually pulls you inwards. Or maybe, this simply is the case of him showing his interest in you. The concept is not lost on you, but there is still apprehension that manifests within you, for reasons you are yet to discover.
You’re about to say something, your parted lips issuing a single incoherent syllable that dissolves on your tongue when the faint murmur of country music from a group of guys up ahead takes your notice, Jack’s nose scrunching with delight as he exclaims, “Ah, what a banger.”
Your eyebrow quirks upwards, merriment spreading against your features. “I never pegged you as the country type.” 
“Well, I’m not a Drake guy, I’ll tell you that much.” Jack shifts in his seat, extending his arm out behind your back. 
“So, a belieber then?” you jester, taunting eyebrows raised as you can’t keep your snicker to yourself when you watch Jack roll his eyes with the same grin.
“If that makes you happy, then yeah,” Jack reasons nonchalantly, whereas you make a pathetic attempt at stopping the stammer in your chest. “But no, that’s pretty much all that plays when my brothers and I wakesurf in the summer, unless Z is on the aux. Then, he and Quinn have a go at each other for it.”
Chuckles emit from your lips as you picture the image of a sunny summer day out on a boat, Jack’s older brother, Quinn, and Trevor becoming enemies of silence as they bicker over music choices. A warm fuzziness embraces you, the image placing you right beside Jack as laughter bubbles between the two of you whilst Luke wakesurfs in the background. It’s a honeyed depiction, all rose-tinted and for you to hold close to your heart along with other fantasies you allow yourself to entertain.
“We’re planning on going back to our summer house upstate where we do loads of other stuff,” Jack trails off, his fingers tapping against the glass of his bottle as you two share a look between each other. His eyes flicker downwards almost immediately, the top of his ears crimsoning. “You should stop by sometime. It’d be good to see you over the summer.”
For someone as confident as Jack, these rare glimpses of timidity demonstrate themselves as a pure anomaly. So, you can imagine your surprise at not only his incredibly generous offer but also his sheepish demeanour; gaze never aligning with yours as you feel his fingers fiddle with the material of the hammock behind your back. The sight enamours you, a rush of endearment washing over you as you lean into the feeling, not bothering to hide the wide smile growing across the expanse of your face. 
If this is what awaits you at their summer house, you’re already packed and ready to go.
“I could be persuaded.” Jack’s already rolling his eyes and against his better judgement, he finds himself chuckling with you too. 
When your amusement blends into the night sky, Jack's eyelids fall halfway, gaze steady as he mirrors your prior smirk that’s all but gone with the quiet wind. “And, what would that involve?” 
A moment is shared between the two of you. Burning bright like a star and erupting fireworks in your fingertips as your eyes linger on one another longer than explanatory. The landscape of his dotted moles capture your attention first, your sight leading itself to the galaxy-like twinkle dazzling in the ocean blue of his eyes. It’s so precious, this point in time - so delicate and intimate that it feels like a secret, whispers of infatuation pulling you together by their invisible strings as Jack’s extended arm circles your shoulders. You lean in, the temptation of his lips calling your name. Earlier restlessness ceases to exist as your movements read as second nature, the bruising of your chest accompanying the fuzziness that dances in your stomach as Jack leans into too.
“Yo, Jack!”
The moment is all but gone, burst like a bubble as both your heads turn in the direction of the voice, spying one of Jack’s friends, Cole, standing on the porch with a hand clasped around his mouth.
“Get your ass in here, we’re playing Jenga!”
A string of unpleasantries filter through Jack’s mouth in the form of a murmur, remnants of your interrupted kiss lingering as Jack gives your shoulder a gentle squeeze and gives you the most apologetic look you’ve ever seen. Puppy eyes and pouty lips, an image you lock away in your heart forever. 
“Did you wanna head in?” He gives you the choice, head tilted to the side as he studies your expression whilst you ponder the inquiry.
The almost kiss is something to behold and if this has occurred weeks prior amidst the intensity of your crush, you would have begged and pleaded to stay, hinging on the hopes of whatever this is being fabricated once again to fulfil your fondness dreams. But, this feels different. It feels sold, as opposed to balancing upon shaky possibilities. This is undeniable, a point in time that is infinite and kissed upon by destiny. A junction you can return to time and time again.
“Yeah, I’m sure my friends are looking for me anyways,” you unravel yourself from Jack’s loose grip, hoisting yourself up before you turn to face him with a soft beam. His expression reads unsure, gaze scattered before he looks upwards before your sneakers knock against his impossibly white Air Forces. You nod towards the house, the giddiness building within you exceptional as your hand extends out to meet his. “Let’s head in together?”
It comes out more of a question than a statement, but you could care less when Jack gives you that soft smile that’s only reserved for you, grabbing a hold of your hand after he brings himself off the hammock before you proceed to return back to the party.
The bustling atmosphere appears to have maintained itself in your absence, hundreds of conversations mixing in with the booming sounds of some bass heavy hip hop song. You nod your head to the beat, grinning when you see familiar faces in the crowd as you trail behind Jack yet again, following him in promise of your friends who Cole had mentioned joined their group’s game of Jenga. You make do with getting down the stairs of the basement without tumbling due to their frigid nature, face instantly lighting up as you catch sight of your friends, collapsing into a fit of excited hugs and shared giggles as you all catch up on the events of the party.
Amidst all the dialogue, some of which you’re assuming Jack’s sorority brothers and friends make quick work of getting the bare room ready, arranging beers for everyone as the box of Jenga is brought out. The weight of concentrated eyes seers into your goosebump-riddled skin and by the time you volunteer to assemble the Jenga tower, you’re more than aware of Jack’s attention on you. Even with how overflowing the confidence you possessed was as you left the back garden, the heat of his gaze reduces you to a sheepish mess, antsy hands uncertain of their movements as you attempt to achieve some standard of normalcy, your eyes avoiding his. It’s when your hands accidentally touch that you cannot avoid it much longer, peering through clumpy eyelashes with a flush that feels as vivid as painted glass. 
A lone corner of his lips inclines, his look of allurement tangled with blatant attraction enough to make you knock over some of the Jenga pieces. A deep chorus of disapproving sounds holler at your actions, your sheepishness fended off by the laughter amongst you and Jack as you continue to assemble the tower again, this serving as the last of your communication before the Jenga game commences.
Every Jenga piece taken out of the tower involves a dare that has laughter erupting from the pits of your stomach or mouth gaping open at the gull others possess whilst intoxicated. With the muffled sounds of the music upstairs and endless talk in the room, merriment captures your heart in a gentle squeeze as the dares carry on, the harmless fun quickly becoming one of your favourite memories in recent times.
It’s your turn to go and the frat guys are already teasing you with endearing nicknames, putting a smile on your face as your hands steady to pull out a tricky Jenga piece with ease. Wooden block in hand, your line of vision skims the chicken scratch of a dare with an effortless glee that’s swiftly replaced with plentiful surprise.
“What does it say?!’ exclaims Trevor, the anticipation in his voice evident as he squeals his words.
You’re reducing to your meek self again, not daring to look upwards as you enunciate your words to aid your own comprehension. “Spend seven minutes in heaven with the player across from you.”
You’re unsure whether the universe has some really good jokes up their sleeve or this is just fate to begin with because when you lift your head up, already knowing, Jack’s amused facial expression speaks for itself.  
Hollers and cheers fill the room, enough pandemonium to make you crimson as you stumble to your feet, casting a peek at your best friend with a cross between disbelief and delight. Your best friend, the same one that texted you about Jack’s presence at the party tonight, bawls her hand into a tight fist, bringing it to her chest as a sign of victory with mischief painted all over her. The ridiculousness of this farce eliminates you from ruminating about what awaits you in the closet a mere metres away. The guy most pleased with the situation opens the closet door, a few brooms pushed back into the compact space that is surprisingly clean with no cobwebs or dust in sight.
“All clean and ready for you two lovebirds,” Trevor grins with the keenness of a kid in a candy store, pushing back his long locks of hair as he sends a wink your way. “Don’t get too carried away in there, you’ve only got seven minutes.”
Jack says something in reply to Trevor’s cheeky comment but you’re too preoccupied by your own thoughts, feet carrying you to the fate of your Jenga dare as the door closes and darkness shrouds you. 
It’s silent for a minute, nothing but soft breaths and dulled whispers from outside the closet door. The closet is dangerously compact, your back up against the wall not sparing you from establishing your own personal space, the slightest shift of your shoes inevitably going to knock against Jack’s. Outside in the back garden feels so far away now, slipping through your hands as if sand with the daunting weight of unsaid expectations folding your arms and clearing a stubborn croak in your throat.
As the seconds tick on and no communication is shared, the everlasting laps you round around your mind exhaust you for the last time and you decide to face whatever this is head on, a start being making eye contact with the man that makes it the hardest thing in the world. However, with the tiniest sliver of dimmed light peaking through underneath the closet door, you can see him. Jack, in all his glory - soft and boyish, all charming in nature. The round pool blue of his eyes and the moles that dot his skin like constellations. It’s a rush of emotions, all raw and bare, to overwhelm and comfort you, with the easiness of his smile that directs your way and warms your heart like no other.
“We don’t have to do anything in here, I’d never do anything to make you uncomfortable,” Jack explains, his hand reaching to drag down one side of his face as his eyes cast away. “I hope you know that.”
This - you feel resolute in - establishing some sense of security in this room as you smile up at Jack. “The thought didn’t even cross my mind.” 
There’s a double meaning in your words and you don’t bother to correct yourself, reading in between the lines cementing itself as your favourite pastime. But, Jack knows and so do you. Perhaps you knew all along that every nook and cranny in your heart was specially reserved for Jack and no other could do. Maybe, you spent so much time in your head because this unexplored territory felt like the birth of the universe, so big and beautiful that it had more questions than answers. A forbidden fruit of sorts - a sweet mirage that the more you pulled away, gravity pulled you right back. A place where you belonged - with him in this moment forever sealed between the two of you.
Jack offers a smile in the wake of your thoughts, timid yet teasing in nature and you can’t resist, in the almost dark of the closet, grin too because this was sealed from the very beginning. Alone with infamous fratboy Jack Hughes, under some sort of awkward pretence bringing you together because you let your fears get the best of you, a stark contrast to what they are now - engulfed in thoughts, feelings of your lips against his and how this charade will come to a close, the building tension boiling till it overflows
“Hey-” you both say at the same time, silencing as you chuckle at the unison you unite in.
“Ladies first.”
“I’m more interested in what you have to say.” 
Because there’s no doubt in your mind he’ll steal the words right out of your mouth, the mere thought of those words escaping his lips the centre of all your desires.
He pauses, eyes searching yours for confirmation which presents itself in the toothy grin he struggles not to reflect, canine sinking into the corner of his lips before he responds, “If you insist.”
Jack doesn’t miss a beat as he reaches for your hand, absently tracing patterns into the skin with a thoughtful hum that proceeds his words. 
“I think I’ve been a lot more straightforward with how I feel about you, but I’d like to chance to tell you right here that I’m interested in you, in being with you. To the point that the boys get sick of me yapping about it,” you chuckle at his comment, the humour of the joke distracting you from the flood of emotions that submerges you indefinitely. “I felt this way from the time we got assigned to work together. And, if maybe you had any reservations about us, I’d do whatever it takes so that they don’t exist because you’re what matters most and that will never change.”
No feeling can compare to this. It’s almost as if you’re experiencing the full spectrum of emotions for the first time, rejoicing in the sunshine Jack basks upon you in the wake of his confession. A mirage turned reality, the colours are bright and blinding and you’re so elated within yourself that you physically cannot do more than bring Jack’s hand to your cheek to kiss his palm. A confirmation that needs no words. 
The warmth of his hand against your cheek melts you into his skin, eyelids falling shut as you revel in the tender caresses of his thumb, of his love and the unspoken words between you. A graze against your throat has your eyes fluttering open, lips parted as Jack secures his hand gently against the nape of your neck. A soft inhale escapes you as his thumb traces the corner of your mouth, dilated pupils flickering between your own and your lips.
“Can I-”
“Yes, please.” 
A star is born at the centre of your lips as they fold over one another, blending seamlessly together as you move together in synchronised harmony. You taste the remnants of beer, inhale his musky cologne and send yourself flying into another universe as Jack holds you close for impact. All your brain knows to do is convey your sentiment tenfold, kissing him as if touch starved as your fingers thread through the curls of his hair. You commit this to memory - the slowness of the kiss, the scent of his apple shampoo and his curls around your fingers, the feathery feeling of your fluttering heart and the tenderness of your hearts beating as one. So sickeningly besotted with another that everything pales in comparison.
Reluctantly, you pull away from his soft lips when the shared oxygen between you two vanishes, eyes slow to open but ultimately capturing the part of Jack’s rouge lips that quiver in your wake, his gaze meeting yours moments later. 
You kiss him again for good measure.
“Alright, horny bastards. Time’s up!” Cole’s voice thunders from beyond the door.
Lips still pressed against Jack’s, you both smile into one last kiss, just as sweet as the last. Jack savours it for what it’s worth, forehead pressed against yours as you two stand together, bruised chests aching with all the yearning that can fit into your palms.
“Consider me persuaded.” 
844 notes · View notes
voltronisanobsession · 4 months
Note
I saw your child of aphrodite imagine, and it got me thinking, imagine a child of ares as the opposite. They are the most put-together looking imaginable, have a sort of cutsey or croquette aesthetic fashion taste, and are the most kind, loving, and gentle person you would ever meet. So when the assumed aphrodite kid absolutely demolishes the opposing team in capture the flag and gets claimed by ares everyone looses their goddamn minds.
Reader being the Opposite of a Child of Ares
OMG I LIKE THE WAY YOU THINK‼️ I actually really love this AHHH
Not proofread 💯
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Another entirely unexpected arrival at camp, campers think it’s the most obvious place where you belong, the Aphrodite kids are ready to accept you into their cabin and everything when you get claimed.
The way reader is so put together has everyone entranced. You always pause to find a reflective surface to fix your hair during camp activities, making sure it falls and frames your face perfectly. Walking with grace and avoiding any muddy puddles to avoid ruining the loafers you walked into camp with. Even when you walk by some campers they can smell how fresh and expensive the perfume you wear is. Even your outfits look expensive and flattering on you, the unique style capturing your natural beauty even more!!
So many people think you’re gonna get claimed by Aphrodite by the end of the night, but everyone is surprised when they don’t see the familiar symbol of the goddess when dinner ends. I mean, she usually claims her children by the first day after all!
Nonetheless, the campers are sympathetic towards you, patting your shoulder as they wish you a goodnight while you’re just confused.
“It’s ok, maybe Aphrodite will claim you tomorrow! Don’t let it keep you up at night.”
You don’t even get a chance to tell them you already have a mother before everyone just disperses to their cabins. I find it hilarious to imagine that reader knows Aphrodite isn’t their godly parent while everyone else is just convinced she is cuz they don’t even know who your mortal parent is (kinda sad if you think about lowkey💀)
You’ve just given up on correcting people cuz you’re too nice (and kind of a doormat💔), using your own time to figure out who your real parent is while people keep yapping about Aphrodite.
Despite that, you’re know as a kind, social butterfly. Whenever someone needs help, whether it be from choosing an outfit, doing braids on the younger girls hair, or needing a sparring partner, you’re quick to volunteer. You’re kind to everyone even the Ares cabin even if they sometimes let snide remarks slip on what you’re wearing that day.
Fast forward to Friday😍 pass dinner again and you’re STILL not claimed people just assumed you’ve somehow angered your supposed mother.
It was revealed that the game for the night is capture the flag earlier in the week and everyone is bustling with life. I feel like Ares!Reader lives in some form of constant confusion since no one tells you anything so when people excitedly give you the run down of the game, they’re surprised when you want to play as well!
Usually the Aphrodite kids sit out on harsh games like this so it catches them off guard when you start putting on armor and grabbing a weapon so you can join the game.
As much the campers like you, the leaders are hesitant to choose you for their teams since they believe that you won’t be much help😭💔
Putting you as defense with some other campers for the flag, nobody really expects you to fight well if enemies make it past their offense group. Lowkey kinda hurts you that they think you need to be watched after but you still stand your ground, tense as you hear yelling eachoing throughout the forest.
When you see campers from the opposing team come running into sight, you get ready to clash against them until your partner tells you to guard the flag instead. While watching them fight, your skin practically ITCHES to join.
Your heart beat fastens watching them, gripping the sword harder as more enemies trampled from the forest, your own teammates stumbling after them. When one camper, Percy you learned his name was, managed to wiggle through your teammates, many of his team fought through the barrier as well.
Raising his sword, you finally gave into your urges to fight, swiftly meeting and blocking him with your own sword. He didn’t have much time to react before you forcibly shoved him backwards which caused him to stumble into the people behind him. With everyone surprised with your new fire, this gives you an upper hand as you begin swinging your sword at the green eyed boy in front of you. You’re all offense now, forcing him and his team into defense as you push them further away from the flag.
You’re absolutely merciless and fast that you manage to fling Percy’s sword from his grasp and continue to pick out his teammates one by one once he’s no longer a threat. Like it’s not even funny, you’re like a bull as you swing your sword like a maniac.
Everyone is in chaos as they try to get away from you😭😭 your own team doesn’t even know if you’re on their side or not LMAO💀 and from the corner of your eye you see that same boy you taught earlier climbing up the rock your flag was on. So without a second thought you disarm the person in front of you and fling the sword at Percy with as much force as you can.
People gasp as it goes straight into the rock beside him. Had you aimed a few more inches to the right you would have definitely killed him, no doubt. He could only stare back at you in shock, the friendly face he was used to seeing twisted in an unfamiliar, threatening look. The way you looked at him made it feel like you were going to pummel him into the ground if he even dared to continue going for your teams flag.
Even as the sound of a horn faintly echoed in the background, the group of campers were captivated by the bright red symbol glowing above your head. Glancing up, you could only breathe out a soft “Ares” before it slowly faded away into nothing.
It was quiet for a moment before someone jumped on your back and started yelling with joy. Everyone quickly surrounded you, cheering and screaming at how amazing you were. No one saw it coming and that’s what made them even more excited.
Coming out of the woods, campers would still surround you and praise you for your amazing fighting skills!!! When you revealed you never even held a sword before this week, no one believed cuz nobody could just do all that without any training!
Now that Ares claimed you as his, I think reader would have difficulty adjusting to the harsh and brash atmospheres of the Ares cabin.
You’re very different compared to them despite having excellent combat skills and fighting tactics. Your overall appearance and personality makes you stand out against your siblings, which is something they sometimes target you for.
They’ve seen you get stepped on by other campers though, so in their weird way, this is them kinda trying to toughen you up. They’re lowkey proud when they see that you have more witty comebacks whenever they throw comments at you.
Clarisse is one of the few campers that treat you the same, still throwing sly remarks and insults your way, but she does acknowledge that you are one of the strongest, if not the strongest, people in the cabin.
Overall I think Reader is the only camper that everyone gets along with that’s in the Ares cabin! Whenever there are group games or activities that involves fight, everyone is calling dibs on you. You still manage to keep your grace and loving nature even when surrounded by your siblings. Your open personality scares them at first since they’re not used to being fretted over and showing emotions, so it’ll take them some time to get used to your affections!
Ares!Reader shows others that you can be a badass fighter on the field while being a kind person off field! Love this reader tbh😝
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blingblong55 · 8 months
Text
Good girl behaviour -Simon 'Ghost' Riley NSFW
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Based on a request:
God I need Ghost to fuck the reader out of jealousy, but denying every fucking orgasm, and when the reader apologies for flirting with someone to have his attention, he says "Apologizing now won't give you an orgasm little bitch"
F!Reader, smut, MDNI, 18+, jealous!Ghost, denied!orgasm, rough!sex, fingering, dom!Ghost, degrading, oral!sex, establish!relationship
You have been needy all day, you wore the pretty little skirt he likes but still, he didn't pay attention to you. You wore the shirt that shows your cleavage best and still, he didn't pay any sort of attention to you. That was until you two went to the market, he wandered whilst you talked to the man in the aisle, moving certain ways which made him notice your body more. Your voice so soft and innocent, "can you reach for that, im not as tall as you~" you get on your tiptoes to demonstare and thats when Simon comes in, grabbing the item and walking away with you, his arm snaked around your hip.
At home, he fingered you too much and each time he knew you were close, he would slap your tits and stop. Three orgasms were denied and by some point, he had you on your knees. A collar around your neck, leash on his hand as he watched you whimper. "Don't act innocent, R/N." he tightened his grip on the leash, choking you more. You give him a pouty lip, and you knew best, no brats were allowed in his bed. "You're nothing but a useless cum slut, R/N." he spits out. You whimper once more and he slaps you lightly and chokes you with his hand.
"You know I won't let you cum for what you did back in the market, sluts like you are worthless and don't deserve to cum, especially when they know getting fucked by me is a privilege." Your eyes pleading for any form of release, your pussy against his boot, the aching clit of yours screaming for him to fuck you. But that is how he is, training you to be the ideal cum slut for him. "Do you think I'm going to give you want you to want when you whimper?" he chuckles and cups your face, "My love, this is not how it works, not one bit, my darling," his voice smooth as silk.
"If you want to apologise, use that mouth for good," he says and you pout more. He grabs one of your tits and licks the already hard and sensitive nipple. Your piercing occasionally gets moved around in his tongue. You moan and squirm only for him to stop and get up. "Simon-"
"No, I'm not entertaining an orgasm for you and you better stay there like the good girl you are."
Minutes later, he comes back, cuffs in one hand whilst the other holds his drink. He sits down, "Make me cum first and I'll maybe think about fucking you." he unzips his trousers and you knew the drill by now. So, you reach for his cock, taking it out and before even daring to let your lips touch it, you look up at him. "Do it, darling." he nods and your tongue licks his tip.
Soon enough, he fists your hair, pushing you deep, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat. You gag and drool all over his shaft, your throat a guaranteed soreness for tomorrow. The stickiness of his body mixing with yours. He pulls his cock out, letting you breathe, "You're doing so well my darling, but take me like the cum slut you are, don't want to disappoint me now, do you?" You shake your head and he smiles, a soft kiss on your forehead and he goes back to that fucking you.
You mascara running down your cheeks, he wipes them off, "you're being so obedient, my love." he whispers as you continue to get throat fucked by his massive cock. You gag more, the wet noises filling the bedrom, your red tits getting abused by his constant slaps. He then chokes you, adoring how you gagged more on his cock and the feeling it gave him bringing him more pleasure. Once he begins to cum inside of you, he slows the thrusts and pulls his cock out of your mouth.
The white and stickiness of his seed falling down your face like drool. And before you can react, he grabs your hips, and with a desperate move, he slams you on the bed. Your back on the soft blanket, your thighs on his sides as he removes your panties, two fingers inside of you before he begins to eat you out. His tongue already savouring your juices, your clit swollen and ready to be fucked and pleased. "Beg me to suck on this precious clit, darling." he looks at you, you are already a mess and can only nod. He slaps your pussy, "I said beg, bitch," voice low with a growl. "Suck my clit, please, I need it, please~" your eyes shut.
His tongue and mouth bring you waves of pleasure, "cum for me, sweet girl." once more being soft to you. Your clit is beautifully pleased by him, and your body reacts towards the need that you have to finally cum. "Cum, please, I need my little doll to cum." he coos. A knot in your stomach, your fingers gripping the bedsheet underneath, your moans loud, too loud it makes them sound very pornographic. "Say you belong to me," he demands. You look at him, eyes almost unfocused from the incoming orgasm, "i belong to you!" you say between moans and whimpers.
"Fuck!" you cry, your legs feeling weak, his mouth not stopping. And then you let out a gasp, your eyes shut and you finally have your much-needed orgasm.
Your slick coating his lips and tongue. He licks his lips, and looks at you, eyes soft but still with that grin like the devil. "My my," he lays next to you, arms wrapping around you, "You did such a good job, my sweetness," he whispers as he kisses your forehead, a blanket covering your delicate body. "You are my life," he kisses your forehead again. "You belong to me, don't you, R/N?" his calloused hands caressing your soft skin. "Yes," you kiss his hand and he smiles. "Good, that's good my girl."
@liyanahelena @urmajestyzel @karurururu @hope-3429 @ghostslillady @alxexhearts @muffinsncoffee
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zeroeightzeroone · 5 months
Text
lover of mine - bang chan
genre: angst, hurt eventual comfort
pairings: idol!bang chan x female reader
warnings: none
notes: if this looks familiar, it was originally posted to my secondary blog @zerothreetwentyfive so i'm republishing everything here on my main blog.
wc ~3k|moodboard
。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 。 。・:*:・゚★,。・:
"i'll never give you away, 'cause i've already made that mistake,
if my name never fell off your lips again, i know it'd be such a shame.
when i take a look at my life, and all of my crimes, you're the only thing that I think I got right."
lover of mine - 5 seconds of summer
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you always thought that the next time chan would be making you cry would be at your wedding ceremony.
initially, you would try to hold in your tears, just enough so that you weren't full-on sobbing and ruining your makeup. eventually failing as the tears flow freely listening to the man tell you the moment he fell in love with you, the moment he knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you and the promises he vows to keep forever. chan's eyes would never leave yours as you exchanged vows; in that moment, only you and chan existed, the proclamation and celebration of your love were the only things that mattered.
instead, here you are crying over chan. sitting in the driver's seat of your car, sobbing over the man who once said he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you, now not wanting to fight for that future anymore.
"you're doing it again."
the sound of your best friend's voice snaps you out of your thoughts, attention now on the girl sitting across from you, "huh?"
she reaches over and places her hand on yours with a sympathetic smile on her face. no words are needed from her to make you realize what you were doing whilst zoning out; fiddling around with your ring finger. a habit you picked up after chan proposed, and a habit that hadn't changed even without the band on your finger; your fingers instinctively moving to spin and twist a non-existent ring.
"right," you clear your throat awkwardly.
your hands slipping out from under hers, sliding them under your thighs hoping that maybe sitting on your hands would work against the habit.
"how are you?"
the word 'lost' feels like an understatement. the word couldn't encapsulate even a quarter of your feelings.
you felt directionless, overwhelmed by the constant switch between emotions: anger, frustration, sadness, and denial, it left you exhausted. day by day, you only grew more emotionally drained, the desire to feel nothing only intensifying.
the mere thought of the dimpled man gave you whiplash, your heart and your head conflicting with each other and your feelings pulling you from one end to the other. you couldn't pinpoint exactly how you felt about him.
god, you wished that you didn't even think about him.
you wished that you weren't plagued by the thought of him at every waking moment. everything reminded you of him, everything brought you back to the memory of how easy it was for him to let you, the person he proclaimed to want to spend the rest of his life with, to watch them walk out the door, to just give up without a fight.
why couldn't it have been easy for you too? why couldn't you just let him go the way he did you? forget him like he meant absolutely nothing?
as much as you wished it was, you knew it wouldn't be easy to move on from chan.
your early adulthood started with chan, moving in with him almost a year and a half after you started dating. he became a part of your routine and you became part of his; there was a time when your day didn't feel complete without hearing a goodnight from him or getting that goodnight kiss. your lives were intertwined, and your future plans were intertwined.
you believed chan was your future. he made you believe that you would write the next chapters of your lives together, that you two would be side by side on the road to forever. you envisioned your future with chan, without him you've hit a crossroads, struggling to navigate where to go from here. you were scared.
scared to learn what the future holds for you, scared to take a step towards a future without him.
on top of all that came public attention.
the news about your breakup hadn't been confirmed by chan or jyp entertainment. regardless that didn't stop the speculations and rumours that came with the lack of seeing you and chan in public together, seeing you without your ring, and other proofs fans would dig up. the algorithm also working against you as whenever you refreshed social media, the first couple of posts would be news articles, headlines and what have you, discussing the speculations.
'did stray kids' bang chan and his long term girlfriend call it quits?'
'fans of stray kids speculate bang chan and his partner have called off the engagement'
'netizens react to alleged proofs that bang chan and long term girlfriend have split up'
'breaking: did stray kids' bang chan and girlfriend split up? here's why fans are wondering about the status of the long-term couple'
your comments were flooded with questions regarding the rumours, mourning fans hoping that they were baseless and haters congratulating you on setting the man free. you wondered why the news hadn't been spoken about by chan or any official representatives but the speculations drove you to log out of social media. the realization that one day the articles and headlines will change from 'speculations' to 'confirmations' the anticipation and anxiety driving you insane.
you look back up to your friend, your lips pursed together in a small smile as you reply:
"i'm fine."
"chan hyung!"
the boy pulls the pillow up and over his head, trying to block out the noises from outside the door. hoping that the longer he ignored, the realization that he wanted to be alone would sink in and everyone would leave him be. that hope was short-lived as the door swung open.
"chan hyung!" changbin calls from his spot at the door, "you need to eat something."
from where he's standing, changbin watches chan groan out a response from under the pillow, making no effort to get up and go eat something. changbin's eyes drift to the older boy's bedside table, a picture frame is lying face down (probably a photo of you), and sitting on top of the frame is a gold band with a large diamond: your engagement ring. the sight of the band sitting on chan's bedside table and not on your finger has a small frown adorning changbin's lips.
"hyung, i know it's hard but please. you need to take care of yourself too," the younger boy sighs, "locking yourself in your room won't do anyone good."
of course, it wasn't easy for them to see chan in such a state.
chan had always been the one putting up a strong front, walking around with his head up no matter the circumstances as the leader. but these past couple of weeks, whenever chan was out of the public eye he'd walk with his head down, dragging his feet, no words leaving him. almost like he's being forced to be anywhere outside of his bedroom.
the members in the other dorm were curious about their leader, wondering how he'd been holding up but chan stopped replying to the group chat. it got to the point where the members made a chat without chan, using that to ask jisung, changbin and hyunjin how the older one was doing.
for as long as you were in chan's life, you were also in the member's lives. the news of the breakup came as a shock to them as well. they were all curious as to how you were doing too, but were hesitant to ask you directly for fear of making things harder for you. you met all of them through chan, and seeing their names pop up on your phone may just be another reminder of your ex.
changbin's eyes are on chan as the older boy takes the pillow off his head, slowly sitting up on the bed, feet hitting the floor but making no move to stand up. instead he's slouched over, head in his hands and sighing.
"do you, uh…" chan's voice barely above a whisper, "do you think i made a mistake?"
changbin shuts the door behind him hearing chan's question, realizing right now his friend needed someone to talk to before, maybe, going to eat something.
leaning against the door, he replies, "what do you mean?"
"w– was proposing… a mistake?"
"do you feel like it was a mistake?"
chan shakes his head, "no."
"did you mean everything you said when you proposed?"
"yes."
"then it wasn't a mistake."
chan lifts his head out of his hands, head turning to the younger boy leaning at the door. even in the dim purple lighting of chan's room, changbin can see how glossy his eyes are, how the bags under his eyes have gotten more prominent since yesterday.
"was… was letting her go," chan's voice shaky, "a mistake?"
changbin pushes himself off the door, making his way to sit next to his hyung on the bed. a comforting hand moving to chan's back.
"that's a question only you can answer," changbin's lips are pursed to one side, a sympathetic look in his eyes as he continues, "did it feel like a mistake at the time?"
"i- i thought i was doing the right… thing," chan's voice pitches higher at the end, questioning his own answer, "when i came home, an–and saw the dinner table, full of food she made for us. when she told me everything she was feeling, the look i-in her eyes."
chan loves your eyes, it's by far his favourite thing about you.
looking into your eyes had him falling in love with you before he even knew it. looking into them made it feel as if he was looking into your soul, almost like your eyes could tell him what your words couldn't. chan's day would immediately be flipped upside down just at the sight of your eyes, a shitty day becoming the best day when he caught a glimpse of those radiant, warm pools of life, your eyes sparkling with a zest and excitement for life that sent a wave of comfort over him. whenever he looked at you, that glimmer of hope in your eyes made him feel like everything would be okay.
but that night, the look in your eyes that night is seared into chan's memory. haunting him whenever he closes his eyes, whenever his eyes fall on your ring sitting on his bedside table.
that night when you told him just how lonely you'd been feeling, how you felt like he was treating you like the help and not as his fiancé; those words knocked some sense into chan. the harsh reality glaring him down: he had been falling short in your relationship. he had been so blind to that fact for who knows how long, listening to you had chan wallowing in guilt.
at one point chan felt like he was a third person watching everything go down, but it felt like he was watching you and a whole different person. he wondered why he wasn't saying anything, why he couldn't move, why he couldn't feel anything other than guilt eating him alive.
when he looked into your eyes, that's when everything came crashing down.
the eyes that once gleamed up at him, washing a wave of comfort and reassurance through his body were boring into his own. the contrast had his blood running cold. the sight of your hollow and dull orbs gazing up at him, even the sources of light around you did nothing to bring back that sparkle. the way your eyes looked incredibly sunken in, tired, swimming with distress as they searched his. he wondered how he hadn't seen the change before.
a change that happened because of him. the light in your eyes is gone all thanks to him. he wanted to be the one to preserve and make sure your eyes light up for the rest of your life, but instead he's the reason you look defeated. he couldn't handle the guilt eating him up at the sight.
"i-i broke her," chan whispers, "you could see it in her eyes how my shortcomings, the ones i was too blind and stupid to notice… that broke her. i broke her."
changbin doesn't say anything.
"i thought it would be better for me to let her go… get her away from me who was sucking the life out of her," chan's hands run through his hair, "she deserves so much more than me."
the older boy cries. his thoughts, feelings, everything just clouded with you.
"hyung," changbin's tone is soft, feeling out the atmosphere, "don't you think that it's sucking the life out of her even more, to be away from you?"
this time chan is the one who doesn't say anything.
"she wanted you to stay, she wanted you to convince her to stay."
"convince me to stay… please."
"i'm sorry."
"yes. from what you told us the day after you broke up, she does deserve better."
changbin's words send a dagger to chan's heart.
"but don't you want to be the one she deserves?"
chan's head turns to look at changbin.
"you need to work to be better, to be the one y/n deserves. that's what she wants, she wants you hyung."
"… m-me?"
"she wouldn't have said yes to marrying you if she didn't want you for the rest of her life."
your plan for the day was to wake up around noon, order some takeout or ransack your best friend's freezer for some food (and ice cream), chill on the couch and watch some netflix. instead you're jolted awake, at ten in the morning, by pounding at the front door.
rolling your eyes in annoyance, stretching your arm out, feeling around before grasping a pillow and clutching it over your head, trying your hardest to block out the noises and fall asleep. hoping the longer you hold out, it will give off the illusion that no one's home and come back later. a couple moments pass, a sigh of relief falls from your lips when the knocking stops, allowing you to loosen your grip on the pillow around your head.
maybe the neighbours got annoyed and kicked whoever that was out.
at the silence, you roll onto your side and shift your body around to get comfortable in the mattress. another long breath leaving your lips once that optimal position to fall asleep in is found, closing your eyes and getting ready to be lulled back into dreamland.
now you think someone is fucking with you.
the knocking starts up again, for a second you thought you'd fallen asleep and the knocking was continuing in your dreams but no. sadly, you weren't lulled back into dreamland like you hoped, the pounding in your head making it apparent that this was indeed, reality.
on top of all the things happening in your life lately, being woken up by a stranger relentlessly hammering the life out of their fist on your– actually, your best friend's– door is the kicker to a great day. a whine leaving your lips as you roll out of bed, pouting as you trudge to the door of the guest bedroom and continue your trek down the hall, towards the front door.
sure, you wouldn't have minded if your best friend, the person who lives in this unit, was actually home to answer the door. alas, she's at work whilst you're here; straightening out your pyjamas and plastering the fakest smile on your lips whilst you undo the locks, twisting the doorknob and swinging the door open.
"hello, mis—"
your jaw drops. posture immediately straightening due to the wave of tension that rushes through your veins, your mind comes up with two options: hide behind the door or run. your heart begins to race in your chest, tears threatening to spill at any moment but your feet are cemented to the ground. any urge you had to run away and hide quickly depleting at the sight of the man in front of you, a bouquet of flowers in his hands.
"chan… wh-what are you doing here?"
there he is: the man of the hour.
in front of you, in the flesh. standing a couple inches away from you clad in his usual all-black attire. you're avoiding his gaze but can't seem to pry your eyes off the bouquet in the man's hold.
a medley of red and white roses, baby's breath peeking throughout the arrangement.
"i- i needed to see you," chan's voice comes out husky.
shifting awkwardly on your feet, you sigh, "how did you know i was here?"
"multiple calls to your best friend and a long speech," he uses his free hand to scratch at the back of his neck, a nervous smile on his lips.
'she's getting a long speech from me too.'
"okay, well…" you clear your throat, "you saw me so bye."
you go to shut the door but chan stumbles forward, holding it open as he stands in the doorframe. the gush of air from his sudden movements gives you a whiff of his cologne. that along with the closer proximity has a lump forming in your throat.
"w-wait, i wanted to talk too."
"y-you spoke and so did i so, bye," you choke out, trying to close the door again but to no avail as his body blocks your way, "please chan, what more do you want from me? don't make this harder for me."
chan reaches forward at the sight of a tear falling, wanting to wipe it away but you flinch away from his touch. your reaction has chan recoiling, he shifts awkwardly on his feet. you go to turn away from him.
"i made a mistake," he states, his words coming out rushed.
you gulp, angling your body towards the man again. this time your arms crossed over your chest, your gaze still falling away from his face. chan's throat clears when he realizes that you're not going to speak.
"that night, i shouldn't have let you go," he continues, "i should've told you, said something, said anything to convince you to stay… but… fuck. i- i was scared."
your eyes glance up at his face, only to look away just as quickly.
"you're probably thinking, of what?" chan runs a hand through his hair, "but listening to everything you said, everything that i was stupid, ignorant enough not to notice, all those things that i did– or, uh didn't do… that hurt you. it scared me to tell you i wanted you to stay."
your eyebrows furrow in frustration, this time your gaze stays on his face, making no move to wipe the tears running down your cheeks.
"listening to you, hearing how much i hurt you. i- i thought it would've been selfish of me to tell you to stay," chan's voice cracks, tears falling from his eyes as well, "i thought i would hurt you more if you stayed… that you didn't deserve that, y-you deserved so much more than me."
"god, chan.…" a bitter smile on your lips, "you saying nothing, letting me leave… a-and not fighting for me, for us! fuck… that hurt more than anything."
the memories of that night have your heart aching. whimpering as the tears continue to fall, the sight has chan's gradually getting heavier in his chest. he wants nothing but to pull you into his arms and to never let go.
"i know… i know. baby, i'm so sorry," chan's cheeks are soaked with tears but he makes no effort to wipe them away, "i'm so fucking sorry. i thought i was doing what was best for you, but i fucked up, i fucked up big time."
your eyes lock with chan's. glossy, tear-filled orbs gazing into each other, at that moment the tears only build until the both of you are crying a river in the hallway.
chan quite literally launches himself at you. throwing his arms around your body and pulling you into his chest. instinctively, your arms wrap around his torso, nuzzling your head into his shirt. bodies trembling and shaking as the both of you cry in each other's arms.
chan soaks up every single thing about this moment; the warmth of your body radiating onto him, your face nuzzled into his chest, the smell of your hair, the way your hands grip the back of his shirt, the feeling of your body pressed up against his. he isn't even sure that you'll take him back. regardless, he knows he wants to work his hardest to ensure he'll have you in his arms every day for the rest of his life.
in his arms, he holds the person who has been with him every step of the way and supported him day in and day out. the biggest mistakes chan ever made took place on that day: not convincing you to stay, not telling you how he loves you with his entire heart, and holding your engagement ring in his hand while he watched you walk out.
chan wants you to be so much more than just his past and present, he wants you to be his future, his forever. he's always wanted that but he failed at showing you, instead hurting you in ways he was completely ignorant of.
"i love you," chan cries, you can hear his heart racing in his chest, "i love you so much. if you let me, i'll work every single moment of every day to show you that. when i told you i wanted you for the rest of my life, i meant it. i mean it with my whole heart. i fucked up–majorly, but i swear to you! i swear i'll show you that i'm the one you deserve, that i can give you that life you deserve."
chan looks down at you, enveloped in his arms as your gaze naturally lifts to meet his eyes.
chan's heart skips a beat.
there it is.
that sparkle.
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alessiasfreckles · 4 months
Text
Fitting In
alessia russo x reader with social anxiety
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You've been with the team for a few months, but your anxiety is making it hard to find your place. When you spend lunch hiding out in your car one day, Lessi comes to find you.
A/N: this is my first woso fic, i hope you like it! i'm planning on writing a part two with real fluff, maybe taking place a month or two later. also this is basically just a self insert fic but i figured maybe someone else could relate to it, so this is for all my other girlies with social anxiety and adhd out there
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When you joined the team a few months ago, you weren’t sure how you would fit in. And now, 3 months later, you still weren’t sure.
You had a tendency to over analyse social interactions, situations, anything really, and you knew it didn’t help your social anxiety but there was no way to shut off the constant noise in your brain. At least, not until you met her. Alessia Russo. One of Arsenal’s, and England’s, star strikers. The way she moved on the pitch was like magic, and you swore you could see glitter in the air when she laughed. The crush you had on her grew by the minute. You wanted to at least be friends with her so badly, but you just didn’t know how. 
You still didn’t really have any close friends on the team. Yeah, everyone was friendly, but there were clearly established friend groups, and you didn’t know how to find your place in any of them. When you first joined you would be invited out with everyone, or invited to people’s places for movie nights, that sort of thing. But a lot of the time you felt out of place, so worried about what to say and how you were coming across that the whole situation ended up making you more anxious than if you hadn’t gone in the first place. When you did come out of your shell and say something, you’d spend the rest of the evening thinking about what you said, if it made sense, how you said it, what you should have said instead. 
It was exhausting.
Your sleep schedule was awful, most nights you couldn’t get to sleep until 3am. You’d be lying in bed, desperately trying to sleep but your brain not letting you. You’d wake up feeling groggy, but you didn’t want to let anyone see how badly it was affecting you, so you put on a brave face in front of your teammates. Most days, as soon as training was over, you’d go straight home. You were too tired to do anything other than be alone. 
One day, at lunch, you couldn’t face the thought of trying to figure out where to sit, the overstimulation from everyone talking, the noises and smells, so you decided to sit in your car, alone. You figured that no one would miss you anyway, everyone seemed to have figured out that you were a bit of a loner by now, and they mostly left you alone. 
“Something’s up with y/n, right? It’s not just me?” Leah asked Beth at lunch the next day, scanning the lunch room as she tried to find your face.
“Yeah, but I don’t know what,” Beth shrugged, frowning. “I want to help her, but-”
“Have you guys seen y/n?” Alessia interrupted, coming up from behind them. “She’s not here.”
Leah and Beth both shook their heads. “Maybe she’s in the gym, or on the training field?”. It wasn’t unusual for players to spend their breaks hanging out in other areas, and Alessia nodded.
“I think I’ll go see if I can find her,” she said, and Leah nodded. 
“That’s a good idea, Less. Maybe you can figure out what’s wrong.”
Alessia peeked into the gym, but it was empty. She thought maybe you were walking laps, so she checked the training field, but you weren’t there either. Now she was starting to worry. The two of you hadn’t talked much, but she always listened to what you had to say, and got the feeling that there was a lot more to you than you let on. Deciding to check the car park to see if your car was still there, her face brightened as she found it. When she realised you were sitting inside it, her brow furrowed in confusion. 
You look up from your lunch to see Alessia stood a few metres away from the car, looking at you with a small frown on her face. Is she upset with you? Your eyes meet, and you freeze for a second before raising a hand to wave awkwardly. Her frown clears, and she comes over to the passenger door. 
Knocking on the window and opening the door, she leant down. “Can I come in?” she asked, smiling sheepishly. 
“Uh, yeah, sure!” you reply, sitting up a little straighter, mind racing. Why is she here? What does she want from you? 
“So, um, what are you doing out here?” she asks gently, glancing down at the lunch on your lap.
“Oh, um, sometimes it’s just a lot, you know? Everyone talking and all of the noise. And I never really know where to sit,” you trail off, laughing awkwardly, inwardly cringing at yourself for saying that. 
“I get that. Sometimes some of the girls can be so loud! Like, Katie, didn’t you ever learn what an inside voice is?” she laughs gently, and you smile. “And you know you can sit wherever you want, right? None of us are going to bite you.”
“Haha, yeah, I know, I just…” you shrug, face burning.
Alessia turns to look at you, worry lining her face. “Y/n, is something going on? Has anyone made you feel unwelcome here, or anything?”
“No, everyone’s been so nice, I promise, no one’s done anything,” you start rambling, anxiety rising in your chest as hot tears start to well up in your eyes. You bury your face in your hands. “I’m sorry, this is so embarrassing.”
Suddenly you felt a warm hand on your shoulder, pulling you in to a tight hug. You stiffened to the touch but Alessia’s arms held you gently, and slowly you relaxed into it. 
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” she murmurs, and you feel your breath returning to normal.
After a minute she lets you go and you let out a shaky laugh. “I’m sorry,” you sighed, wiping your eyes.
“Y/n, you don’t need to apologise, it’s okay, I promise,” she says, big blue eyes full of sincerity. “Can you tell me what’s going on?”
You shrug, not knowing what to say. “There isn’t really anything going on, that’s the problem. I just, my brain is just, I feel like everyone else got like, a manual telling them how to exist and how to talk to people and how to have friends, and I didn’t get the manual. You didn’t get a manual, right?” you ask, looking at her with a wry smile.
She smiles apologetically. “Nope, no manual.”
“Well, it was worth asking,” you laugh. “Things just seem to be really hard for me when everyone else finds them easy, you know? And I’m just so tired all the time, but I don’t know why, I barely do anything, I’m so lazy.”
She frowns at that. “You’re not lazy, y/n. Do you get enough sleep?”
You laugh at that. “Oh no, definitely not. Most nights I don’t get to sleep until like, 3am, sometimes 4am.”
“What, why?” she asks in shock. 
“I don’t know,” you shrug. “I just can’t sleep a lot of the time. I try to, I lie in bed with my eyes closed, but there’s just too much going on in my head, it feels like my brain is actively working against me.”
“It’s no wonder you’re so tired then!” she admonishes you gently, and the look she gives you makes you fall for her a little more. 
“I’ve always had trouble sleeping,” you explain. “Ever since I was little. And I’ve always found social situations hard, too.”
“I’ve always hated meeting new people,” the blonde admits, tucking her hair behind her ear. 
“Really?”
“Yeah. It’s gotten a little bit easier, I think, especially after the Euros, I had to do so many interviews and media things, it helped kind of desensitise me to it, but I still don’t like it.”
“Huh,” you say quietly. You never would have guessed that she felt that way. “You always seem so confident.”
“All just a part of my effortlessly cool persona,” she grins, winking at you. You laugh, and she gives you a look of fake hurt. “What, you don’t think I’m effortlessly cool?”
Smiling, you tilt your head. “As long as you believe you’re effortlessly cool, that’s all that counts.” you tease. 
Suddenly, Alessia’s phone buzzes. “Oh, we should probably head back in. The others will be glad to see you, they were worried when you weren’t there at lunch.”
“Really?” you ask, surprise clear in your voice, but it quickly turns to worry. “Oh no, am I not meant to leave during lunch? I’m sorry, I just thought-”
“Woah, hey, relax!” she puts a hand on your arm. “Y/n, you’re allowed to do what you want during lunch. The others were just worried about you because you’re a part of the team. Our team. That makes you a part of our family.” 
You smile sheepishly. 
“Now come on, let’s get going. I don’t fancy giving Jonas an excuse to make us run extra laps, do you?”
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End in View (dp x dc)
The rooftop is rough beneath Dani and the cold seeps through the gravel and through her layers of clothing as she lays there, breathing. There are no stars visible in the sky. Maybe it’s the rainclouds, maybe it’s the Gotham smog, she doesn’t know. It’s a shame in any case. She’s never liked the stars like Danny does but she still appreciates a little stargazing here and then.
She hears a zipping sound in the distance coming closer, then there’s a thump a bit further away from her on the rooftop and Dani cranes her neck. She sees the upside-down image of a masked man in a skintight black-and-blue suit. She knows him, Might-wings or something. She drops her head, looking back up into the dark sky.
“Hey kiddo, what’re you doing?” The man asks as she hears him walk a little closer.
“Dying,” she says wryly.
Worst part is that it’s true. Her unstable mess of a body is breaking down. She’s taking ecto-shots every morning now instead of every month like when she was twelve years old. Soon the only thing that’ll be able to sustain her properly will be the Infinite Realm and its constant ambient ectoplasm. And even then, she knows it won’t be enough. She’s seen Frostbite’s face after her latest check-up and she saw Danny’s knuckles go white after the yeti repeated for him what he told her.
“Aren’t we all?” The vigilante teases back.
Dani huffs a bit, though her mind is only half-there. This in-between state is dangerous for you. You cannot continue like this for long.
“I happen to have a timeline though, thank you very much,” Dani says and she tries for levity but the words ring too true for that.
What are you saying?
You have to die. Fully.
The vigilante’s breath hitches before he lets out a small “Oh.”
“Doctor says I’ve got about two months,” Dani says casually. “So, I figured I’d see the sights. Travel around a bit.”
“What about your parents?” The man asks, sitting down.
“My dad will be glad when I’m gone,” Dani answers and ignores the pinch to the heart the thought induces.
There’s a silence that stretches for a bit before he breaks it. “That’s awful,” he says quietly.
“It’s whatever. I’ve got my brother anyways.” Dani shrugs. “He’s stuck back home but he’ll come by when he can, which, knowing the kind of shit that goes down back home, won’t be often.” She pauses. “Not like I need him for the list.”
“The list?” The black-and-blue vigilante - Heightwing? - asks.
“My list of things to do before I die,” Dani says. “You know: get drunk, learn to knit, rob a bank. Normal teenager stuff.”
“Anything your local vigilante could help with?”
“You offering?”
“Sure,” he says.
Dani sits up and she sees the vigilante - Nightwing! That’s it! - do the same. She squints into the white lens and he stares back calmly.
“I want to go to Batburger,” she decides. “I want to try the fries.”
He gives her a blinding smile.
“Coming right up,” he chirps before getting out a sleek-looking grapple gun and holds out his other hand. “Ready to fly?”
“Born ready,” she says and takes his hand.
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shotmrmiller · 5 months
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Needs must
Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader
WC: 2.1K
TW: prostitution, explicit fingering, and smut-ish.
ive got 4 other ideas for this goddamn escort au and one of em is MY BOY JOHNNY. oof i cant wait. im mad it took me this long to do this. I wrote this listening to rich sex by nicki minaj.
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You had needs. No matter how magical, a toy can only do so much for you. You wanted the praise of another human being—the warm touch of their hands around your waist, your neck. God, you needed to get laid. But after the disaster that was your last relationship, how nasty it ended, you couldn’t even ring your ex-girlfriend up for a booty call. 
Sucking your teeth, you look at your phone. Noon. Well, maybe one of your friends you’re about to meet up with for a weekly Saturday brunch knew someone who would be interested in a no-strings-attached situationship.
Flipping the card in your hands,  you chewed on your bottom lip in deliberation and looked down at the business card— the color of bone with raised black lettering. Ghost, it read, with his number on the back. How you ended up with this in your hand made you almost regret having reprobates for friends. An escort. That’s what they had shamelessly suggested. You had almost choked on your eggs benedict when one of them pulled out a contact card from their wallet and placed it by your mimosa. I mean, really. Preparing to argue about their lack of sense, they brought up a great point. It was either this, someone who was there for what you needed whenever you needed it, or your toys which were in a pathetic state from constant use. Your ex called it quits because you simply couldn't find the time to maintain a proper relationship— your demanding job took up most of it. You couldn’t believe you were about to do this.
Ghost. What a name. But you suppose it didn’t matter what his name was, only that he could do his job, and with the way your friend gushed over him— he’d leave you walking side to side. You needed this. You worked too hard for too many hours to not spend your money on some self-care. 
Fuck it. Maybe he will be just a one-time thing, you thought, and sent his number a text. 
Closing the door of your car, you briskly walk towards the small cafe Ghost had sent the address to; A cute little quaint coffee shop. Coming to a stop, you straighten your office skirt and run a hand through your hair before opening the door. Breathing in the coffee aroma, you look around for who you’re looking for, spotting him sitting in the back. The click of your heels echoes inside the cafe, catching the attention of your awaiting companion. He looks up and rises to stand, and it takes you aback. It was like witnessing a grizzly standing on its hind legs. Jesus.
He was tall, so tall, and broad. Wearing a black beanie and covering the lower half of his face with a mask, he extends his arm out to shake your hand, and you internally scream at how shapely his arm alone looks over his long-sleeved shirt. 
“I’m Ghost. It’s a pleasure, love.” 
Choking back a moan at his accent, you put your hand in his and say, “No, I’m sure it’ll be all mine.” You can see his dark eyes crinkle at your quip. 
“If we get through this smoothly, the next time we meet I’ll make sure of it.” 
As you let out a playful laugh, Ghost reaches for the back of your chair, pulling it out with a chivalrous gesture. “And a gentleman? You definitely know how to sell yourself.” 
“No, love. This is just a common courtesy. I don’t need t’tell you that I’m good,” and in one smooth motion, he extracts a sleek, forest green matte folder from the leather business bag lying at his feet.
“I need this filled out, just the usual— hard and soft limits. Safewords, nicknames, allergies, and so on.” You pick up the folder and open it, skimming over the contents of the front page. 
“This really is your job.” You flick your eyes from the folder to him and he’s already looking at you, watchful and steady. 
“O’ course it is. I take my clients, and future clients, seriously. I enjoy wha’ I do but it will never be at the cost of another. I will not make you uncomfortable in any way, nor risk your health. I aim to please you, not the other way around. And I cannot do tha’ if I don’t know tha’ you’re allergic to latex or completely against something I might do.” 
He gives a slight cough, and you divert your attention from the paper and meet his gaze. “What’s a pretty thing like you seeking out someone who offers these types of services?” and a lighthearted chuckle escapes you.
“The same reason the one who gave me your card did— just looking for a good time, no commitment.” 
He raises his eyebrows at that but makes no further comment. Smart man. Glancing at your wrist, you check the time. “Right,” and lean forward to get up when Ghost shoots up from his chair to pull out yours. “I’ll have your folder ready for you by the weekend,” and turn your head to face him.
“Is that when you’ll want this, then?” and you give a casual shrug. 
“If you happen to be available.” He reaches out and gently grabs your hand to pull you in for a tight embrace. Softly, he whispers in your ear, “I’ll be seeing you then, love.”
You leave with a silly little grin on your face.
The weekend comes and you’re a puddle of nerves. You can’t remember the last time someone made you this anxious. The knock on your door startles you out of your inner ramblings. It’s time. Taking in a deep, calming breath, you open it. 
Ghost calmly walks in, and starts taking off his mask, and then leather jacket.
“I’ve one absolute limit I forgot to mention,” he says in a firm tone. “I do not kiss. It is not a negotiation.” 
Well, you couldn’t give a damn if he didn’t. Nonchalantly, you shrug and say, “And mine is that we always use a condom.” With a nod and a chuckle, he eagerly grabs the folder from your table and starts flipping through its pages.
“A’right, love. Go get on the bed f’me.” The smirk he gives you is positively wicked. “I saw tha’ you have like to be told wha’ to do.” He jerks his chin towards your room. “And take everything off.” With nervous excitement, you run off, haphazardly tossing your clothes on the floor.
Eyes covered with a blindfold, all you hear is your shaky breathing and his footsteps on your plush rug. Your nerves feel exposed, raw. As you lie on the bed, you suddenly feel a firm grip on the flesh of your thighs, causing your skin to break out in goosebumps. The room's cool air contrasts with the warm heat radiating from his touch, pulling a hiss from your lips as he pulls you toward the edge of the bed.
“Atta girl, love. Open your legs f’me, lemme see that pretty pussy.” The lack of eyesight helps you to focus on his touch alone, making you fearless, and your legs drop open without hesitation as you lie on your back.
“Look at tha’. Aren’t you just a dream? Hm?” he puts his hands on your knees, keeping your thighs open, wet cunt exposed. “And you waxed, too. Hope tha’ wasn’t f’me.” You feel a fingertip slide from your hood, down to your clit and hole, spreading your juices around the labia and back up. Your nerves are on fire, your pussy clenching around nothing, forcing juices to drip down to your arsehole.
“A’right, pretty. Touch yourself. Shove your tiny little fingers into your,” he pauses to suck the skin of your inner thigh, “cunt and show me how to make you feel good.” He then moves his mouth closer to where you need it most, and bites. Are you defying me? Did you suddenly become deaf as well, once I blindfolded you?” and you aggressively shake your head. 
“No! No, sir. I hear you, loud and clear.” With a tight squeeze to your thighs, he says, “Then do as I say.” Moaning, you slowly bring your hand down, starting from your chest. Your palms rub against your pebbled nipples, down to your soft stomach, until your fingertips meet your swollen nub, then move in soft, tight circles, mewling at the feeling. The groan that reaches your ears is so lewd, you could come from that alone. 
“Tha’s it, baby. You’re doing so well. Look at how wet you are, fuck, show me just how you like it.” And you do. A vulgar noise comes from your hole once you stuff yourself with one finger, slowly stretching, before adding another. It’s something, but not enough, not what you want. Not thick enough, long enough, and that thought makes you whimper in disappointment. 
“Aw, are your fingers not satisfying? I’ll help you, sweet, only because you look so delicious spread out f’me like this. So vulnerable, bare.” His breath fans over your cunt, over your clit, and it sends a jolt up your spine— but he doesn’t move, doesn’t touch. It feels like you’ve been waiting for hours until he finally, finally, pushes a thick finger into you, and curls it, rubbing against the right spot, over and over, and then pushes in a second, threatening to tip you over the peak. The feeling is intense —your walls clench around him firmly in your rising pleasure.
“Oh, g-god, Ghost pleasepleaseplease,” squealing as you fuck yourself on his hand, and when your hypersensitive nerves pick up on the sensation of his scorching mouth on your clit, with a pulsating suction, your muscles tighten and tremble, to the point of pain, until Ghost gives one hard suck, forcibly pushing you off the edge. The wail you let out is ear-splitting— as ecstasy slams into your body, like waves crashing at shore. Your thighs squeeze Ghost’s head irrationally tight, but he doesn’t care, just groaning into your core, lapping up your juices like a dehydrated man who’s found an oasis. Your body stings— prickles from the vicious high you’re riding—chest heaving with sobs from the sheer force of it, fingernails digging into Ghost’s scalp, yanking on his hair. As your soul melts back into your body, you absentmindedly thank all the bloody gods for having friends who really do look out for you. 
Whimpering pathetically, your limbs go limp, loose, heavy. Ghost easily picks your body up and moves you toward the center of the bed, vertically, the blindfold still robbing you of your vision. 
 With a grunt of effort, his hand firmly settles by your ribcage, sinking into the softness of the bed, and then he slips a folded pillow beneath your hipbones, expertly arching your spine into a delicious angle. His hand firmly connects with your rear, not just once but twice, feeling the exquisite sting of it. The room falls into silence, only to be interrupted by the clinking sound of his belt buckle. Your body tenses as you hear the unmistakable sound of plastic being torn open, and then you feel his thick and warm shaft teasing your entrance. A moan escapes your lips as he penetrates you, his movements slow and sensual, until his hipbones press against your backside. Taking his time, he slowly pulls back his length, dragging it against your slick walls, before pushing forward again, covering your body with his own. His right hand is flat on the bed by your right shoulder, while his left curls around your neck, gently forcing your head to tilt back onto him. The tip of his head grinds against the entrance of your womb. 
He moans softly into your ear, before quietly purring, “Let’s see how many more orgasms I can wring out of you, pet.” The tightening of his makeshift necklace around your throat is your first and last warning of what is to come.
He pulled four. Four gut-wrenching, shattering orgasms before finding his own release. He left you a drooling, sloppy, sweaty mess on your bed, completely languid and relaxed. Somewhere, you faintly hear your phone ping with a notification. Hissing as you get up, you limp to your living room, and see it on the sofa. Unlocking it, you see that it’s Ghost, sending you his Cash App information. Holding in a chickle, you send him his money and wait for his confirmation. 
It was a real pleasure, doll. Let me know when you need me again.
Cackling to yourself, you place your phone back on the table. 
Bastard. 
He knows you’ll definitely be seeing him again.
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testrella · 4 months
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you're my religion priest! s. geto x f!reader pt.1→pt.2
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synopsis: y/n moved into a small and tight knit town to take care of her elderly grandmother. what happens when she attends a sermon with her grandmother, and finds herself lusting over someone she cannot have.
fandom: jujutsu kaisen ⌗ priest suguru geto x female reader⌗ modern au content warnings: mild cursing, smut, head (giving), religious themes(?), slight degrading at the end, angst(?) public sex, NSFW.
author's note: over 11k words, u guys have fun
“..in the name of the father, and of the son, and of the holy spirit. amen.”
father geto finishes off the sermon with the routine prayer. he takes the opportunity being on stage to scan the loyal audience. it was the regular, older people he preaches to. the same people who boast about him being so devoted to God at such a young age. how that when they were his age, they were off sinning. he thinks about the constant praises about being a young devoted follower, but it immediately stops when he sees her. 
a young lady, who seemed to be around the same age as him, sitting in the very back with an elderly woman. even though she was dressed as modestly as possible, the black floor length dress immersed your body in all the right places.
when did he allow his immoral thoughts come to mind
 “oh father! you must meet mrs. johnson’s granddaughter- maybe you can convince her to turn to God.” an elder of the church whispered to the priest. she gently pulled him to the side, off of the stage. 
“as you must have heard by now, edith’s grandbaby is out of control. rumor has it that she’s been caught using multiple different contraband, and premarital sex! can you believe edith would allow this to go on for so long?!”
geto mentally sighs, gossiping was always an issue at church. especially since it was located in a very small town, there wasn't much to talk about. when you were new to town, the locals went wild. fabricating very detail of your life, and spouting that nonsense through their teeth.
“with respect dear mary, the scripture speaks strongly against gossip. i’ll talk to the young lady, but please watch yourself. for there is no greater sin than sin.”
she nods while looking down, unable to meet geto’s gaze. too embarrassed to voice her concern furthermore, she mutters “yes father, please forgive me.”
“i am not the one you should be asking for forgiveness, ask the man above. now if you’ll excuse me, i’ll introduce myself to the newest member of our church.” he smiles gracefully before making his way towards mrs. johnson and her ‘scandalous’ granddaughter. 
he takes small steps towards you, puffing his chest out as he walks with a sense of pride. sure you were a pretty girl, but he was only interested to guide you through your religious journey. 
“father geto, i introduce you to my granddaughter. this is y/n. she’s only 20, and she recently moved into town to take care of me. isn’t she the kindest?”
he loses his train of thought. he's unable to bring himself to utter a single word. you were much more gorgeous up-close. if he were to describe your beauty, he’d be too overwhelmed, and wouldn’t know where to start. maybe he’d start with the way your nose fits your face perfectly. or, how your smile molded perfectly with your faint smile lines. 
geto snaps out of his trance, and quickly introduces himself. 
“i’m father geto. welcome to this church, i hope your stay has been great so far.” he purred. 
you squint your eyes at him. almost as if you already knew the rumors going around. nonetheless, you shake his hand. 
“like my grandma said, i’m y/n. i do hope we cross paths alone in the future.”
he blushes from the way you shaked his hand, but also put your other hand on his. solidifying the handshake more than it needed too. not only that, the last comment you made. crossing paths.. alone?
“my confessional booth is always open before my sermon, and at 9 PM on sundays. if that’s what you mean of course.” 
you puff your chest out and let out a dramatic sigh. taking in your arms, and letting them rest to your side, you open your mouth to speak. he stares at your lips, refusing to make eye contact.
“the sermon did end, i guess i’ll have to see you later tonight.” you assured him before walking over to your grandmother who made conversation with someone else. he watched you walk away, allowing himself to sneak a peek from behind. 
later that day, geto was having lunch. he finds himself unable to focus on his best friend's story, the words going in one ear and out the other. all the plays in his mind is you, and what you could possibly up to.
“satoru, i think i was seduced today after my sermon.” he spilled out, no longer able to contain his thoughts. 
“gross! how old was she? 50? 69? HA, get it? 69?” 
geto rolls his eyes at the blue eyed ‘man’ who acted immaturely any chance he got. maybe he really should have kept his thoughts to himself. it was better than trying to converse it with an actual man-child.
“goodness satoru, no. she was a few years younger than me. 4 years to be exact. she’s one of the elder’s granddaughter, and the way she spoke to me made me feel like i was sinning. i didn’t even do anything!”
“well..”
his eyebrow quirks as satoru began his sentence. 
“did she have big tits?” 
geto’s face quickly turned from curiosity to disgust. he abruptly stood up from the table, placing both hands on it for support, and got all up in satoru’s face.
“how could you ever speak so unashamedly about a lady like that?! let alone speak like that in front of a priest!”
“well forgive me father, i didn’t mean to offend you and your girlfriend,” satoru said sarcastically while putting his hands up defensively. “i’ve said worse, and you’ve never had a problem with it until now. she must’ve had big tits for you to go all preacher mode on me.“  
as much as geto didn’t want to admit it, satoru was right. there were many time's geto allowed the white haired man to say the most diabolical stuff known to man. even listening when satoru would describe women’s bodies in detail and occasionally his one night stands. why was this any different?
“excuse me, is that you father?” 
there is was.
the seductive voice he met only hours ago. both boys slowly turn their heads to the h/c girl standing right in front of them. their eyes met with the beauty talked about earlier. only now you were wearing a shorter version of the dress you wore earlier. 
“m-miss. y/n? i’m afraid you’ve caught me at a bad time. what brings you here?” 
you only acknowledge one of the two men in front of her, and of course it was geto. your eyes met his, and never shifted away. it was almost like a dance of temptation, daring him to do further than just eye contact. the dark aura coming from you was overwhelming him, or maybe it was just your strong perfume. 
“i apologize for the disruption, father geto. my grandma asked me to run some errands. i guess i’ll have to speak with you later tonight.“ 
before geto could get a word in, you once again walk off. just like before, he once again glances down there. 
forgive me Lord, for i have sinned. 
“dude what the fuck was that..” the white haired man questioned. he also noticed the thick tension that was stirred by non other than you.
“i d-don’t know. i cannot see her tonight. i’m scared she might tempt me into.. into doing something that’s against the scripture.”
he now finds himself in the confessional booth, anxiously waiting for your arrival. it was currently 9:47 PM, you were late. it did not help his anxiety at all. he’d give you until 10:15 for you to arrive. anything later would have to just be scheduled on another sunday. 
he lets out a deep breath before he hears the clattering of heels. geto takes a peak out of his curtain only to be met with a sultry gaze. he quickly closes off his curtain, and subconsciously wipes his sweaty palms on his lap. this was like any other confessional, there was nothing to be conspicuous. 
“father geto? are you there?“ you ask in a voice just above a whisper. 
geto swallows whatever was in his mouth before speaking.
 “of course i am.“ 
“ahem, forgive me father. i have sinned since i first moved into this town. actually, i sinned today after the sermon.“ 
he stays silent. he’s tempted to ask what you’ve done, and if it possibly had something to do with him. but you answer his unspoken questions before he can think about it for too long.
“before moving into this lovely town, my grandmother sent me a picture of her priest. goodness, i didn’t know what to do with myself.“ 
he was determined to stay stoic, and not to speak unless it was to say a prayer. but her hushed voice and the strong tension made it difficult. the air seemed to thicken every time she finished a sentence. geto couldn’t escape your magnetic pull of lust.
“a-and if i may ask, what did you do to deal with your problem?”
“i couldn’t resist myself. after i saw the photo of him, i began to have lewd thoughts. every night leading up to my departure, i’d touch myself thinking about him. then..”
she lets out a small moan, but geto would describe it as a small whine. now he was breathing heavily as his boxers started to tighten up. there was no way he could get hard in the church. it was sinful. but he was here to help you, and allowed you to continue.
“i met him today. after the sermon i started using objects to make myself feel satisfied. but it was nothing compared to his large hands shaking my hand. i can only imagine him using his hands going inside of me instead of holding a bible. even now, i cannot resist his voice..” you confessed as heavy breathing came from your end. 
“..come over to my side dear. let me help you.” he whispered.
you waste no time he notes from the sounds coming from the other side. your heels clacked once or twice before you pulled the curtain from his side. 
he studies your face very carefully. there was a light red tint spreading across your cheeks, and your ears were bright red. his eyes then wander down to your very revealing shirt that showed a lot of cleavage. the shirt was accompanied by a matching skirt, a very, VERY, short skirt.
you walk into the tight fitting booth. before he can get his hands on you, you kneel down in between his legs. your pretty little head lays on his left thigh.
“forgive me father. how can i ever make you forgive me for my sins?” you lift your head and your hands start to wander on the edge of his pants. “tell me father, there must be a way..”
geto feels a bead of sweat going down his forehead. there were many times that grandparents introduced their grandchildren to him, in hopes they get married. or, when satoru would convince him to agree to a blind date. his answer of rejection was always the same. 
‘i am devoted to the man above, i musn’t be distracted.’ 
where was his reasoning of rejection when he watches you pull both his pants and undergarments off? 
you grab his dick and painfully slowly lick the tip of it. leaving any pre-cum on his tip, now in your mouth. a slight moan leaves his mouth. this was a pleasure that he’s never experienced before. devoting all 24 years of his life to God has never brought this much fulfilment. 
where was his reasoning of rejection when you put his whole dick in your mouth without any hesitation?
your sudden move of deep throating him caught him off guard. he’s now holding your head in a gentle manner, as gentle as he can be. geto is lost at words, he can only moan uncontrollably while playing with your hair. the only thing he can fixate his eyes on was your beautiful hair getting tangled into his fingers. 
where was his reasoning when you made him finish in under five minutes even though it felt like an eternity for him?
you continue to suck him off, hollowing your cheeks for a better suction. your hands wander down to his balls, giving it a small massage. you're not sure what you did right, but it worked. geto was now praising your name instead of the lord’s. he feels an unfamiliar knot unwinding itself. 
“y/n.. please i feel..” he lets out a breathy moan instead of finishing his sentence. his eyes shut close to full enjoy the euphoric feeling. why did he want to reject your advances in the first place? he can't seem to remember. 
“father..” you cooed while taking off his shirt. of course, the hot pastor with a big dick was also very nicely built.
“oh geto, why do you hide this from me?”
your hands wander his chest then it starts to follow his happy trail. your movement was haltered when he reached out for your chest.
“the same could be said for yourself. show yourself to me, please. i beg.”
his eyes looked like a puppy who had been kicked. there was no sane woman in the world who would say no to his violet eyes. your hand then reaches out for his, and then place his hand on the hem of your shirt.
“take it off for me, father geto.”
being enchanted with your hypnotic gaze, it drew him like a moth to a flame. he lifted your shirt, taking your bra off as well, and stared with admiration. you had an art of seduction that was compared to no other. he watches you sit on his lap as you lift your skirt. 
this is sin. he was sinning. 
but he didn’t stop you as you sat slowly onto his dick, moaning in joy. he watches you go up and down painfully slow.
“c-can you go a little faster..?“ he moaned into your ear. being too embarrassed by his request, he buries himself on the side of your neck. taking in your scent, leaving small pecks on the spots you sprayed perfume. 
“you’re t-too big geto~” you whined into his ear before you attached your lips onto his. 
he was an inexperienced kisser. an inexperienced everything actually. it was easy for you to take the lead by biting onto his bottom lip. he opened his mouth to let out a small whine of pain and you took the opportunity to slip your tongue in. 
you feel yourself juices slide down your thigh onto geto’s lap as you continue to bounce on his dick. large hands start groping your ass, giving you a smack on one of your cheeks. you yelp in response. it was unexpected from a priest.
“father, use me. be as rough as you want with me.” your hands start undoing his bun, turning his hair into a disheveled mess. 
“i-i shouldn't be so mmm- rough on you.” 
you felt honored by his insistence on being so gentle. his grip on your waist tells you a different story. it was obvious he wanted to go faster than the pace you set.
“please geto, for me at least.”
oh, how could he ever deny your requests? 
his grip on your waist tightens as he lifts you up and rams into you. all pent up sexual frustrations he’s ever had in the past 24 years are being taken out on you. throughout the heavens and earth, you were his only sole purpose in life. the way you took him in so good without any complaints was proof enough. 
marks form on his shoulder and back from the scratches you were leaving. it was the only way you could hold yourself up. if not, you’d fall right into his arms while he’d continue to show no mercy on your pussy. 
geto was starting to feel what he felt earlier when you were in between his legs. his eyes gaze at yours, and gets a site he’d never unsee. small tears started forming, threatening to leave your eyes. your mouth agape as one hand held onto his shoulder, the other groping yourself.
“father geto, i-i’m ahh, i’m so close~”
on sync, the both of you came at the very same time.
geto found it more ironic than disgust when he saw the scene unfold. priest of six years, never had a temptation once in those six years. his lap was now covered in cum from not only his but the new girl in town. the new girl who easily seduced him
“forgive us lord, for the father and i have sinned.” you purred right into his ear, almost biting it. 
he massages your waist before finally putting you on your two feet. you're barely able to stand up without the support of the wall.
"y/n, we can never do this again. never speak to me unless it's about my sermon."
now it was his turn to leave before you could get a word in. he pulls his pants up and swiftly puts his shirt back on.
"you were sent by the devil, and i've failed my lord. stay far away from me you whore."
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