#that’s all there has been for a long time it feels like now

[sttoru]

⠀ 𝝑𝑒 ⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. all sukuna needs is someone to take care of his needs after a stressful day—that someone being you, his favorite concubine.

tags. true form!sukuna x concubine! female reader. smut, angst towards the end. objectification kinda, size kínk, p in v -> unprotected, choking (nearly goes wrong), breeding kink, standing doggy, sukuna has two cawks, reader gets called ‘(little) slut, doll’. uhh sukuna has cannibal-ish desires.. idk how to explain it.

“you,” sukuna barges into the dining hall, not batting an eye to all the other women sitting around. his sharp gaze immediately finds yours in-between the crowd. that’s when you realise that he’s clearly pissed off at someone or something.

everyone freezes and stops eating—scurrying to politely greet and bow at the king of curses. you do the same after a second of processing his unexpected presence.

sukuna barks a command before you can part your lips to ask a question, “into my chambers. now.”

the servants and concubines all look on with wide eyes. they know what that means. some are blushing from embarrassment at sukuna’s bold choice of words—others are silently seething with envy because you’re the centre of his attention again.

all eyes are on you as you get up to follow sukuna. you’re nervous yet also somewhat excited. you were unable to walk straight for a few days the last time sukuna looked and sounded that angry.

but, the embarrassment is certainly also present. especially because everyone knows what the mighty sorcerer and his concubine are going to be up to for the upcoming hours.

“strip,” sukuna firmly says the second you enter his room. you’re used to his distant, rushed behaviour at this point, so you comply. you undo all robes—leaving you completely bare in front of him.

sukuna’s canine teeth show as he grins at the welcoming sight. he steps towards you, his rough hands coming up to fondle your body. he squeezes and fondles your soft flesh with surprising care, “mhmm. this ‘s all i needed.”

it isn’t long before your small body is caged against the nearest wall. your breasts are squished by the cold concrete, your hands the only thing keeping your balance. your fingernails hurt because of you repeatedly scratching the wall.

“i know y’ can get louder than that,” sukuna hisses and sinks his sharp canines into your shoulder. he’s splitting you open, his thick cock dragging along your velvety walls with a purpose. the king of curses unapologetically draws a bit of blood from your flesh, “tsk—moan like the fuckin’ slut you are.”

and you do as told. your voice gets so loud to the point that it’s embarrassing, but you can’t care less. your insides are begging sukuna to continue—to not stop until they’ve turned into mush. until they’re painted white with loads and loads of thick and slippery cum.

“tha’s it, doll,” sukuna huffs as his tongue licks over the bite mark he left on your shoulder. his eyes flash a dangerous red at the sight. he’s doing all he can to suppress the urge to eat you up.

literally.

he’s got this aching carnal desire to devour you. to consume you like it’s his last meal on earth. sukuna can’t stand it, though he tries his best. you’re an interesting human; the reactions you elicit from him are strong. like no one has been able to do so before.

“need more, my lord,” you beg between interrupted moans. you’re drunk on pleasure, oblivious to the fact that sukuna is fighting off his inner demons. you’re obsessed with the way his hips roughly slam against your ass. your body is on fire, “more—more, fnghhh, more!”

all four of sukuna’s hands tighten around your hips and waist. he squeezes you until you feel his nails painfully dig into your skin. you’re making it so hard for him; acting this needy, begging him to ravage you and claim your cunt, mind and soul.

“lost y’r fuckin’ manners, hm?” sukuna grumbles and slaps your ass as punishment, “beg properly.” he spreads your asscheeks after that, squishing the plump fat in attempt to withstand his own sick thoughts.

you look delicious. your dripping pussy that’s wetting both his cocks looks delicious. your body that is much smaller compared to his looks powerless and. . . delicious.

“‘m sorry—please, pleaseee!” you mewl, eyes rolling back into your skull. you’ll never get tired of being pounded until you’re unable to think or talk properly. it’s even better with sukuna, his two cocks are enough to keep you stuffed and satisfied for nth amount of time.

your breath hitches as you feel your feet being lifted from the floor. your legs dangle in the air as sukuna readjusts his grasp on your body so he could support you up against the wall. the new angle he’s fucking you in only increases all the pleasure.

you’re not sure if you can even keep up with him at this point. you’re brainlessly allowing him to position your body however he sees fit.

“shittt, yeah,” sukuna nearly salivates at the sight of your small body accepting its fate. you’re either super easy to please, or he’s just good at what he’s doing. no matter which one it is—sukuna’s making sure that you’re not going to be able to walk after he’s done.

he plunges his upper cock in and out of your wet cunt. each thrust is different than the one before, the pace quickening before slowing down again. he’s clearly teasing you and that’s exactly what drives you crazy.

“my lord—mmh! so deep,” you hiccup, nearly crying because of how many times sukuna hits that sweet spot deep inside your leaking pussy. your brain has shut down and all you can focus on is his thick cock that’s making you moan uncontrollably.

sukuna curses under his breath. you’re so desperate and it makes him want to do unspeakable things. he wants to have you all to himself. he doesn’t know what that overbearing emotion is and it’s frustrating him to no end.

the king of curses only increases his pace after that. he attempts to decrease the flow of thought inside of his mind by pounding you harder. your entire body is trembling and jolting back and forth in place, every thrust of his is met with a loud moan of yours.

“quit whining ‘n just take it,” sukuna pants, not paying mind to your jumbled up sentences. there’s no need for words, his current and only goal is to make your cunt overflow with his cum. if he can’t claim you in an inhuman way, he’ll resort to mark your insides, so no man even thinks of speaking or touching what’s his.

you can feel the passion behind sukuna’s thrusts. you’re still not over the fact that he’s using you like a ragdoll to get himself off. but, it also feels insanely good at the same time. you nod and nod, wanting to satisfy each of sukuna’s desires.

“i’ll let ‘em know,” the king of curses groans once he feels you involuntarily squeeze his upper cock. his lower cock slides between your thighs, back and forth, getting its own stimulation. sukuna finishes his sentence with a guttural grunt, “i’ll let everyone know y’r mine ‘nd mine only.”

he’s serious about this. his hands squeeze your form and you moan at the act of ownership. by the increase of his harsh thrusts, you can tell that he’s close. close to dumping his hot load into your cunt and breed your womb full of him.

sukuna can’t get the image out of his head. you, fully bred, by no one else but him. how you’d walk around the estate with his cum pooling between your legs. the other concubines are going to seethe the second they smell his scent on you— something they can only dream of.

“take it — fucking take it,” sukuna gets more aggressive with the second. he yearns for a release, one that will destress him. though the closer he gets to his climax, the more those carnal desires threaten to take over.

you squeal as you feel one of sukuna’s hands wrap around your neck. he squeezes your throat until you’re gasping for air. you don’t know what’s suddenly got into him, but you’re too far gone to care.

you can hear him growling in your ear from behind—his hips not stopping even as you reach your own orgasm. you curl your fingers around sukuna’s wrist, trying to loosen his grip around your throat before you lose consciousness, “m-mmhhh, can’t breathe.”

your sobs echo throughout the chambers. your climax leaves you spasming in sukuna’s grasp, your cunt feels like it’s on fire as it continues being overstimulated.

sukuna’s too far gone as well. you can feel drops of his drool fall on your bare back. his red eyes are wide, looking down at you like you’re his meal for the day. figuratively, you are. though the king of curses has a desire that urges him to take it literally.

“r-ryo, please!”

it’s only then that sukuna snaps back to his usual self. hearing you call him by that nickname you created both calms him down and turns him on. he loosens the grip on your throat and instead presses you harshly against the wall with one final thrust.

he spills all his heavy balls have stored into your cunt. your pussy floods with his potent seed, the sticky fluid easily finding its way into your womb. you whimper at the warm feeling—sukuna always cums so much. literal buckets.

you can feel the same sticky feeling on your thighs, as well as on the wall after his lower cock spurts out ropes of cum too. you feel yourself being lowered to the floor and you lean against the hard surface to catch your breath.

you take a look over your shoulder and see how sukuna’s eyes are partially hidden behind his sweaty bangs. there’s a dark aura surrounding him, though it slowly disappears the more he calms down.

his hands are still holding your body in place, not ready to let go of you. his upper cock softens up inside of you and you’re unsure of what to do. the silence - except for the heavy breathing - makes you question if you did something wrong.

“something the matter, my lord?” you ask between faint gasps. sukuna doesn’t answer you and instead lets go of your body, pulling himself out of you right after.

if he keeps himself inside of you, he’ll lose it. he’ll do something he feels like he’ll eventually regret.

“get dressed,” sukuna commands harshly. he doesn’t even look at you anymore. he simply pulls the robes over his body again and covers himself. you’re confused, but you do as told either way.

you’re shaking as you fix your undergarments before pulling your kimono over your body again. you’ll fix your make up and disheveled hair later. first, you need to figure out why sukuna’s acting so cold.

sure - he’s always been like that, aftercare and affection was never really his forte - but it’s somehow worse today. once you’re done dressing up, you obediently stand in front of sukuna, looking up at him like you’re expecting another command.

this is usually the moment where you can just relax in his chambers until you fall asleep or until you’ve calmed down. though, today felt off. you’re uneasy by the tension in the air.

the oblivious look in your eyes nearly makes the king of curses pounce on you. you’re so oblivious to what’s going on in his mind. the images that flash through his mind—of you underneath him as he claims your flesh and bones.

your soul. your heart.

“get out,” sukuna hisses. he does not need to spend another second with you in his personal space. no good will come out of it anyway. he can smell himself on you and it’s triggering those same urges that he was fighting off just moments ago.

he longs to sink his teeth in every part of your flesh. to eat you whole like it’s his right.

he clenches his fists and moves to sit on the edge of his bed. to you, sukuna looks mad. perhaps a bit confused with how he’s feeling. he still doesn’t understand why he’s having such strong feelings towards you.

he yearns to claim ownership over you in more ways than one.

you gulp and know that sukuna is not to be messed with when he’s like this. even if you don’t realise why, you simply nod and bow at him before walking out of his chambers. not a word has to be spoken.

you close his doors behind you and yet can’t seem to move away. you’re unsure of what that last interaction between you two meant.

the look in sukuna’s eyes contained something so primal. no, feral.

you remember how he choked you until you were on the verge of passing out. how he held you like he wanted to possess your every being. how he squeezed your body between his and the wall, leaving you no space to breathe.

you run your fingers over the mark on your shoulder. you hiss; the bite mark stung. it didn’t during the moment because of the adrenaline, but now that the effects of the hormone have worn off, you realise just how deep it was. sukuna normally gives you light and small bites, but this one was different.

everything about that passionate session was unusual, overwhelming and… primal.

just what in the world was that?

#sttoru writes. #jjk smut #jjk x reader #sukuna smut #sukuna x reader #sukuna ryomen smut #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #jjk imagines

[ricky-mortis]

Have some Ted doodles- as a treat.

#was counting up all the times I’ve drawn my little guys and Ted is now at around 71 #highest of the hatchetfield characters for sure #he’s just fun to draw #I get it Tinky #I understand your obsession #did these while listening to exam review #rip long hair Ted #never gonna stop thinking of you #yall ive got so many WIPs it’s crazy #after exams are over I’m not going to stop drawing #anyways how’re you #hope you’re doing well #all good things i hope #I don’t feel like going and grabbing my fact book so today you get one off the top of my head #fun fact: contrary to popular belief- tomatoes are not fruits; they are a category of vegetable called fruit vegetable #there is a heart scene in Stardew Valley with Demetrius and Robin in which Demetrius asks you if a tomato is a fruit or vegetable and #if you say vegetable he gets all huffy #this frustrates me because he says ‘oh you are a farmer you should know’ and DUDE I DO KNOW #ITS YOU WHO DOESNT KNOW #Anyways yeah #this has been the fun fact corner ft. me ranting about tomatoes #ted spankoffski #tinky npmd #tinky #tnoy karaxis #theodore spankoffski #tgwdlm #hatchetfield #Starkid #Joey richter

[ncteez]

NYMPHO [m.l]

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

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

minors do not interact. 

WORDCOUNT― 13.8K

PAIRING― mark lee x afab reader

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

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

smut tags under cut:: 

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

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“Feels so good! Harder! Fuck m-” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Almost given up.

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

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

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

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

Maybe this one really is better.

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

We’ll see.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Ah. Okay. Nice.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Embarrassing? Yeah, probably. 

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

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

Apparently girls like desperate guys. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh.

Fuck yeah.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Please.

Fucking pretty please, let him in between those thighs. 

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

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

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

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

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

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

MARK_99 sent you a message: You awake?

Dick pic #1. 

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

Dick pic #2 

MARK_99 sent you a message:  Wake uppppppppppp! 

MARK_99 sent you a message:  Please? :(

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Etcetera. 

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

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

YOURUSERNAME: that was cute. 

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

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

MARK_99: oh god please don’t say that

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

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

Yes, you’re teasing him. 

MARK_99: if you’d let me

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

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

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

YOURUSERNAME: show me?

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

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

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

MARK_99: i’ll come over right now. 

MARK_99: let me come over and show you

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

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

Public meeting first. 

Always.

MARK_99: right, right, that makes sense. 

MARK_99: so can i see your pussy then

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

Meaning, he has to settle with them too. 

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

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

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

MARK_99: thats so hot…but….

MARK_99: pussy….

MARK_99: please show me your pussy

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

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

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

MARK_99: tht was hot lol….um

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

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

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

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

MARK_99: ….would u want me to? 

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

MARK_99: hahah damn

MARK_99: so you’ll come see me?

YOURUSERNAME: yeah, i’ll come see you

MARK_99: ok cool :)

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

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

Sounds promising. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

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

Fucking handsome and charmingly cute. 

Perhaps even, hot. 

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

 Oh wow. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s hot. 

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

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

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

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

“Do you wanna see my pussy?” 

It’s a joke, mostly. Kinda. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll text you my address.” 

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

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He needs to leave. Right now.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh fuck.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Right. Bedrooms exist.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He probably thinks he’s going to exhaust you. 

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

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

“Do you work tomorrow?” 

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

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

Oh, damn. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh no.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Good. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m sorry, fuck, I–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh, you damn fucking right they won’t. 

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

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

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

You shake your head. 

“Not usually, you just turn me on.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Pushing, pushing, pushing.

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

Mark just watches, mouth agape and eyes wide. 

“Oh–” He stares. “Oh yeah?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

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

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

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

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

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

#NCT smut #Mark Lee smut #nct 127 smut #nct dream smut #mark smut

[simpjaes]

HYPER-SEXUAL (s,jy)

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

leave feedback and reblog to give jake another boner. 

minors do not interact. 

WORDCOUNT― 13.8k

PAIRING― jake sim x afab reader

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

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

smut tags under cut:: 

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

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“Feels so good! Harder! Fuck m-” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Almost given up.

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

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

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

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

Maybe this one really is better.

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

We’ll see.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Ah. Okay. Nice.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Embarrassing? Yeah, probably. 

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

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

Apparently girls like desperate guys. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh.

Fuck yeah.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Please.

Fucking pretty please, let him in between those thighs. 

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

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

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

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

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

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

JAKE_02 sent you a message: You awake?

Dick pic #1. 

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

Dick pic #2 

JAKE_02 sent you a message:  Wake uppppppppppp! 

JAKE_02 sent you a message:  Please? :(

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

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

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

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

Oh, he has an accent. 

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

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

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

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

Etcetera. 

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

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

YOURUSERNAME: that was cute. 

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

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

JAKE_02: oh god please don’t say that

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

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

Yes, you’re teasing him. 

JAKE_02: if you’d let me

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

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

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

YOURUSERNAME: show me?

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

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

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

JAKE_02: i’ll come over right now. 

JAKE_02: let me come over and show you

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

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

Public meeting first. 

Always.

JAKE_02: right, right, that makes sense. 

JAKE_02: so can i see your pussy then

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

Meaning, he has to settle with them too. 

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

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

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

JAKE_02: thats so hot…but….

JAKE_02: pussy….

JAKE_02: please show me your pussy

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

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

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

JAKE_02: tht was hot lol….um

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

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

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

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

JAKE_02: ….would u want me to? 

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

JAKE_02: hahah damn

JAKE_02: so you’ll come see me?

YOURUSERNAME: yeah, i’ll come see you

JAKE_02: ok cool :)

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

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

Sounds promising. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

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

Fucking handsome and charmingly cute. 

Perhaps even, hot. 

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

 Oh wow. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s hot. 

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

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

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

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

“Do you wanna see my pussy?” 

It’s a joke, mostly. Kinda. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll text you my address.” 

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

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He needs to leave. Right now.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh fuck.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Right. Bedrooms exist.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He probably thinks he’s going to exhaust you. 

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

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

“Do you work tomorrow?” 

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

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

Oh, damn. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh no.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Good. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m sorry, fuck, I–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh, you damn fucking right they won’t. 

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

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

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

You shake your head. 

“Not usually, you just turn me on.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Pushing, pushing, pushing.

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

Jake just watches, mouth agape and eyes wide. 

“Oh–” He stares. “Oh yeah?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

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

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

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

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

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

#enhypen smut #jake smut #jake sim smut #sim jaeyun smut #enha smut

[hoshigray]

hello, lovely! is it okay to request a short fic wherein gojo’s pregnant wife (y/n) stole his kikufuku? thank u! (missing soft gojo hours 😭)

𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: omg stoooop this is so cute and sweet, what!?

⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Gojo x pregnant afab/fem! reader - tooth-rotting fluff - pet names (angel, baby, stars and moon, sweetheart) - Gojo being a big crybaby over sweets - so soft, i was smiling while writing, hehe~.

⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.1k

THUD!

“…!” You jolt, immediately looking to the entrance of the living room to see your husband. “Gojo! You okay?”

The white-haired man stands still with a gawked expression, eyes covered by his black blindfold with his usual Jujutsu Tech attire, and you can assume the noise came from the souvenir bags he dropped to the floor.

“…Y/n, my angelic stars and moon,” he finally speaks after a few seconds of silence, and you can see his lips quiver with trembling hands. “Is…Is that my last kikufuku?” 

If there is one thing Gojo loved more than anything other than you, it would be his undying love for sweets! You could never find him without any at his disposal; he’d have a bunch of lollipops in his pockets, be licking popsicles or soft serves while monitoring his first years during their missions, or typically stop by a café and grab some crepes for dessert to take home and share with you. He’s known to have a childish heart, and sweets are his weakness!

His all-time favorite would be the mochi delicacy he often gets during his mission trips to Sendai, and he’s always sure to buy a whole box worth to make the long trip up North worth it. Kikufuku, the crushed edamame and cream-filled mochi, is Gojo’s favorite sweet to eat — you’re a witness to him happily stuffing his face with them lying on the couch after a hard day’s work. He’s the type to eat one every week until he can return to Sendai and get more. 

This week was the very last one he had saved, secured in the cold fridge for him to eat once he got home. And he wasn’t going to Sendai anytime soon, so he planned on treasuring and savoring it the moment he stepped inside and lay beside his pregnant partner to chill on this blissful spring evening.

He could never get over the sight of you whenever he came home. Gojo loved his partner so much that he swears he would burn the world if you commanded him to, which you knew is an exaggeration, but his love is true. The day he got on one knee and heard you say yes to his proposal was the happiest he’d ever been, sweeping you off your feet, putting you in your dream puffy white dress, and officially becoming the spouse of the strongest sorcerer in the jujutsu world! And now you were swole with his child!? Not even God could strike this man to calm him down of his glee.

You were sitting on the living room couch like you always did, waiting for your husband to return, wearing a black maternity one-piece that comfortably molded around your figure and a blue flannel shirt – his flannel – to keep you warm. Gojo came home with souvenirs to share and impress, a huge smile just from thinking about your reactions. 

However, the sight has him gasp dramatically loud and drop everything to the wooden floor, because he saw something in your hand, something that broke his heart noticing the green and white filling apparent from a bite on an undeniable white rice cake. 

You were eating the very last of his kikufuku…How could you!?

You blinked at him, then turned to the sweet in your hand, and the realization of what you were doing finally hit you. “Oh! I’m sorry, Satoru! I was feeling snacky.”

The tall man teeters to where you’re sitting, whining with every step. “So why didn’t you eat your snacks, sweetheart?”

“I don’t know?” You shrugged, licking bits of the edamame cream off your middle finger. “They didn’t seem like what I was craving for. I wanted something sweet, ya know? And I finished my ice cream two nights ago, so this was all I could find.”

“Yeah, but like,” you can tell his eyebrows were scrunched together even if the black material concealed his upper face. “That was my last one, baby! Plus, you could’ve texted me you’d eat it, or I could’ve stopped somewhere to grab you something sweet!”

“I know! But, you were very busy today; a big mission up in Kyoto and a meeting with Principal Yaga, sooo…” you squished the mochi gently, licking more of the filling coming out. “I didn’t wanna interrupt or bother you…”

“But stilllll~!”God, you were so cute when you cared for him, you almost made him forget the whole thing then and there. But you can’t hate the man for being a little upset, right? Gojo sighs and places his cheek on your belly. “Little booger, you hear what your momma is doing to me? So cruel~.”

You gasped. “Hey! Don’t say that to them!” Your free hand tries to yank him off your tummy by the hair, yet he doesn’t budge as he exclaims painfully. “What, are you saying the pregnant love of your life is some villain because they ate one of your sweets? As if I never caught you taking scoops of my favorite ice cream!? Have you no shame, Gojo Satoru!”

He swats your hand off his snowy hair, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Between you and Principal Yaga, there is a scarce few Gojo would allow to beat him up for his foolishness. He turns his head – still above the baby – to face you and releases a sigh. “I’m sorry, I was just really stoked I’d get to have that kikufuku; it’ll be a long while before I go get more…Ughhh.” Another sigh is exerted, and you can only shake your head with rolled eyes. He’s such a baby.

You bring his blindfold down to his chin to free the azure eyes he’s been hiding since this morning, and his hair falls from its spiky appearance. Then, you separate the mochi into two and push one to his lips, “You happy now?” You say with a grin. “I’m sorry, but I wanted to give these a try. Besides, we’ll have a little one to look after soon; wouldn’t it be nice for them to know what their father likes to snack on from time to time?”

Now, how in the world could Gojo still be upset with that logic? Being a father is a foreign concept he’s accepting with open arms, sharing the experience with the person he values and cherishes the most. To have a child with you is the highest honor of all for him. And imagining his small family happy and eating sweets together under his care makes his cheeks show a subtle shade of pink.

He smiles as he accepts the piece of the rice cake, chuckling when you flick his nose playfully. “You’re so sweet, angel.”

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ✩ dividers by @/benkeibear.

#𝑯𝒐𝒔𝒉𝒊 ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ 𝑾𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔: 𝑺𝒄𝒆𝒏𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒐𝒔 #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk fluff #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru fluff #gojo x you #satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo fluff #satoru gojo x you #gojou satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk imagines #anime smut

[shoyudon]

𝐁𝐈𝐆 𝐁𝐀𝐃 𝐌𝐀𝐍 .ᐟ

when their baby doesn't recognize them after they come home from a long mission.

starring. gojo satoru, geto suguru, toji fushiguro x fem! reader

heads up. pure fluff, your child with toji is baby gumi :D

note. this is how everything should have been :< anyways, just an information, my blog now runs on queue so, i'm grind writing before i get too busy for everything since my finals are coming up! chap 259 leaks got me on my knees and telling my friends i needed a whole ass break, gege when i catch u gege.

──────〃★ 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

"i'm home!" gojo's cheery voice rings out throughout his warm home, despite his fatigue catching up with him. he drops a few crown colored paper bags on top of the kitchen counter — his nostrils twitching at the smell of your home cooked meal that he's grown to miss a lot during his mission.

trotting down the hall, he could vividly hear the distinct voices of both you and his daughter's loud laughter, with a big smile he grips onto the door handle of his daughter's nursery and pulls it down eagerly, "daddy's home!"

you looked at the door in surprise, not hearing his call just a few minutes ago, "satoru? you're home!" you marvel out, happily. nose scrunching in just slightly — your daughter sat on the play mat, eyebrows furrowed and she shows no signs of happiness or excitement like you did.

gojo went in and engulfed you into a tight hug, "hi sweetie," he whispers, kissing your temple — his slender fingers squeezing your hips, "i missed you both so much, y'know?"

returning the hug, you inhaled his scent, "we missed you too, 'toru, i was wondering when you'd be home," gojo cupped your face, pecking your lips multiple times.

"'m home now, baby," his vague whispers enters your ear.

gojo's head turns to see his daughter, who has strands of white hair just like his along with her deep blue eyes, staring back at him in worry — and a tinge of suspicion glazing over them. she babbles in concern, pointing at you as a signal to come for her.

instead of you, gojo stepped towards her little figure, resulting in an erupt of loud wail. he flinched at the loud cry and got on his knees, slipping his big hands under his daughter's pits to pull her closer, "hey, hey . . . why're you crying, baby?"

her wails got worse along with a few kicks here and there, gojo turns to look at you in concern, wondering what was wrong with her, his deep blue eyes silently begging for help, "hey, shh. 'ts okay, daddy's here," he cooed in panic.

chuckling softly, you gently grabbed her away from him, "i think she might have forgotten you, 'toru. you've been gone for too long, y'know?" instantly, your daughter calms down, feeling your familiar grip on her, teary doe eyes suspiciously eyeing gojo up and down.

gojo's face fell, "babies have short term memory? i was gone for two weeks," he softly whispers.

you caressed his face, "'ts okay, love. it takes time, she'll eventually remember her daddy, won't you, princess?" your daughter swiveled her face away into your neck, peeking at gojo curiously every now and then.

"can i hold her, please?" he questions, almost desperately. he was gone for more than two weeks — and all he wanted was to coddle his wife and daughter, and yet, here he was; a stranger to his own five month old daughter.

you nodded, "mhm, take it slow, she'll remember you . . ."

gojo gently grabs her from your grip, cooing softly at her as she squirms a bit, crunching her short and chubby legs up. she wasn't crying, yet. but her blue eyes were staring into gojo deeply, as if she was assessing everything, "bwa!"

she began kicking her legs happily. the corner of gojo's lips tugged upwards slowly, "do you remember me now? hm? you remember daddy now?" he cooed, shaking his head gently before nuzzling his nose into her belly.

the interaction made you smile warmly. gojo who was once exhausted with fatigue chasing his tail, now all freshened up with a fatherly smile on his face, "made me all sad for a second, you silly bean," he chuckles, cradling her in his arms.

as he cooed, you could see your daughter giggling loudly, her body reacting to his words as if she understood them. all she saw was his smile and she's a laughing matter. brushing your fingers through gojo's hair, you whisper, "go shower, you're stinky, 'toru."

"mama's being mean, isn't she? daddy don't stink, right?" gojo jokes, "isn't it supposed to be her bed time now?"

you nodded, "i wanted her to see you, at least for a bit," gojo smiled at your thoughtfulness and pressed your daughter to his hip, using his free hand to pull you closer — he wrapped an arm around you, moving side-to-side slowly and without realizing; the slight movement made the baby drowsy, her eyelids drooping down slowly.

and before the both of you know, her soft snores resounded, cheek leaned onto gojo's shoulder as her arms went limp by her side. you chuckled, kissing her other cheek, "i leave you to lay her down in the crib then."

──────〃★ 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔

"baby, why is he staring at me like that?" geto questions softly, pinching the bridge of his nose as he looks back into his six month old son's (eye color) eyes in exhaustion.

just fifteen minutes ago, he had gotten back home after almost a three week mission — dropping his bags onto the couch, he greets you with a tight hug and a kiss on the lips, like he usually does every other day. on the other hand, greeting his not-so newborn son was a different experience, geto had his palm on the baby's head who was sitting on the his feeding chair. squatting down, all he got was an odd stare.

"you've been gone for almost a month, sugu'. he probably has a foggy memory of you," you explain, brushing your index finger over the baby's chubby cheek as his stare never bailed on getos' sitting figure across the table.

geto sighs, nodding his head, "if i get close, he won't cry, right?" he wouldn't say it out loud — but he often feared that this would happen at some point, his own son forgetting about him after a mission. given his job as a sorcerer, he'd have to go out on missions often, and some of them . . . don't exactly finish in a short amount of time. like this one.

"'m not sure, baby. why don't you come here and stop acting like you're our enemy?" you smiled at him, wiping the corner of your baby's stained lips, "'m pretty sure he's trying to remember your face! isn't that right, love? you won't forget your papa, will you?"

geto ascended from the chair, slowly stepping closer to both you and your son. he squats down in front of your son momentarily, "hi buddy," he gave out a small tired smile.

your son scrunched his face up slightly, eyes narrowing. you almost chuckled at the sight of geto's puckered lips, "you don't remember papa? 'm sad, y'know?" his voice softly cooed out, his finger reaching out to trace his baby's small button like nose.

as if your son realized that this was his father upon the soft touch on his nose, his face was no longer scrunched up, eyes returning back to normal — the difference? his toothless grin pops up, raspy laughter escaping his throat. geto smiles back in response, "yes, you do remember me, my baby boy."

geto stands up, carrying your son up from his feeding chair; not even caring about the mess on his son's tiny little bib. at this point, geto just wanted to hold his own flesh and blood, "papa missed you so much, y'know?" he whispers, pressing gentle kisses onto the baby's head.

your lips formed a smile in reflex, "see? he was just trying to remember you," geto chuckles out softly, nodding his head.

the then house that was filled with loud babbles and gargles of a baby refusing to eat, is now filled with euphoric laughter — it just felt magical. and watching your husband cradle your baby just felt like home, all you could do was stare at them both with much affection.

"bwaa! bababa!"

"mhm, that's right—" geto acknowledged calmly, rocking your son back and forth gently, "you're eating well, aren't you? look at the mess you made for mama. don't give her a tough time when papa's not home, 'lright?"

your son kicked his little legs downwards in response, his giggles loud and clear. geto took that as a yes to his question and nodded proudly, placing another gentle kiss to the baby's forehead.

──────〃★ 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎

toji's job is a little questionable. all his life, he's never thought of settling in with a woman, marrying her, and having a son of his own — it all happened so fast. but toji has never really thought of it as a bad thing in the first place. he has a wife waiting for him everyday at home with his son to welcome him, it all felt unreal.

"hey," he mumbles out, leaning down to let you press a kiss on his cheek like you always do — once you did, toji returns the kiss on your lips, "missed you."

you leaned your forehead into his, "i missed you too, toji."

"ma!" a high-pitched voice attracted both of your attention, craning your neck to the side, you saw your one year old son peeking from behind the wall, timidly eyeing the stranger beside you — speaking of toji, by the way.

"gumi, come here," you beckoned him to come over, but the toddler stays in his spot, his little fingers grasping onto the corner of the wall as his eyes pierced onto toji's large figure. sensing his discomfort, you pulled yourself away from toji to approach megumi.

"what's wrong, baby?" you squat down to his eye level, gently grabbing him by his waist, "is something bothering you?" your questions went unanswered — but you figured it had to do something with toji as megumi's eyes never left him.

"baby, that's daddy. your daddy," you can't help but to chuckle softly, carrying the toddler into your arms; pressed to your hip. megumi didn't falter back or trashed, already accustomed to your touch. although you felt his little body tremble when you walked back over to toji, "don't you miss daddy? he's back!"

"dada?" megumi exclaims in a confused tone, patting your cheeks with his chubby little fingers, his toddler mind in a swirl of turmoil. still unconvinced at the fact that this big and tall stranger is his father, despite the same identical hair.

"mhm, that's dada," you point at toji, who has been awkwardly standing a in the same spot now — toji sighs and strides over to you, making megumi narrow his eyes in reflex, "dada, dada's home."

toji extended his finger and poked megumi's cheek teasingly with a straight face, "y' don't even remember your old man, huh?"

megumi scowls deeply, his nose scrunching; resulting in toji's satisfied smirk — the older man prompted to do the same thing again, poking megumi's cheek once more, like he always does to mess with him, "i made you, you little punk," toji rolls his eyes.

"dada!" megumi yells out in frustration, as if he now remembered that his father — toji, the same person who would always mess with him is now right back beyond his eyes, "dada dada!"

toji closened his index finger to megumi's face, and megumi instinctively wrapped his little fingers around toji's index finger, as if saying 'no!'

toji's face warmed up at the sight, and so he curled his finger to bring megumi's hand into his large one, "y'r old man missed you, y'know?" he mutters out gruffly, brushing megumi's cheek gently; so gently he's managed to surprise himself a couple of times.

"aww, he remembers you now, toji."

toji scoffs lightly, a small smile gracing his lips, "guess he does remember."

© shoyudon 2024 . no copying or reposting allowed !

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk fluff #fluff #gojo satoru #gojo fluff #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru x reader #geto suguru #geto fluff #geto suguru fluff #geto suguru x reader #toji fushiguro #toji fluff #toji fushiguro fluff #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x reader #gojo x reader

[vagabond-umlaut]

you kiss the back of my legs and i want to cry

only the sun has come this close, only the sun

gojo satoru x wife!reader; tooth-rotting domestic fluff; gojo LOVERBOY™️ satoru; you aren't any better than him [but less poetic abt the predicament]; tw: pregnancy, 1 tiny mention of throwing up; satoru calls you 'cookie'; and he redefines the word besotted here; his thoughts are also a little yandere-ish but tht's cute, methinks; 2.3k wc; i just wish satoru was real and in my arms rn T-T

belongs to the series 'you make my heart flutter and fibrillate' but can be read as a stand-alone fic if you wanna

the fic title and summary don't rly hv a very strong connection to the fic plot— except the fact they fit both satoru's & reader's characters in this series to a tee ^_^

fic title and summary from 'gps' by shauna barbosa // header frm pinterest // divider by @/benkeibear // jjk isn't mine

you are clingy.

always have been, in fact, now that gojo thinks about it. long before the two of you were married. long before you were engaged. quite a long time before the two of you were anything apart from friends at best, acquaintances at worst.

yet now, as he feels a pair of arms squeeze tighter around his middle, not really still very much squeezing the air out of him— your husband reckons you've grown loads clingier now—

and he loves you for this. loving you even more when he feels kisses being pressed into the space between his shoulder blades.

soft lips, a tad chapped. not without the shy grazing of your teeth.

just how he likes it.

very much how he adores you.

affection, settled deeper than should be feasible into the hollow of his chest, flutters a little when you nuzzle into his back; that pleased little hum of yours quick to follow it. smiling, gojo turns his head a touch to catch a glimpse of you. it takes a beat before you remove your face to lock eyes with him, before returning your face to his back.

he huffs a chuckle, sounding incredibly fond all the same. his feelings for you can never be suppressed anyway. time has proved this to him enough number of times.

he runs a finger down the length of your arm, relishing how it leaves a line of goosebumps in its wake—

"you wanna tell me something, cookie?" your husband finally asks.

your reply doesn't come immediately. and when it does, it is nothing more than a noncommittal noise. too spoiled. too stubborn. a bit too satisfied as well, the emotion further expressed when you nuzzle his back yet again.

gojo's smile grows bigger. his cheeks hurt a little.

he thinks he can live forever with this kind of pain, not even a sigh of complaint ever leaving him.

"aha—" he exclaims loudly, still soft enough to keep the quiet of this sweet bubble you've pulled you both into, "so it's just my irresistible charm that's making you so clingy tonight, hm?"

another beat passes.

and just when he thinks he might have to do with another one of your indistinct sounds for an answer, you speak. to be more precise, whine and grumble, everything so sweet in your adorable voice.

"it's not me being clingy, 'toru— it's the baby— the baby is making me so clingy. making me feel as if i can't live even for one second without squishing you like thisss!!!"

the first reaction your tightening grasp brings out is the wind getting knocked out of his lungs— the second reaction being all that oxygen, nitrogen and carbon dioxide being replaced by a feeling so fierce and so tender— the strongest thinks his knees would have buckled under its weight had he not been lying down but standing—

not that he really minds that, though.

for you, he's always on his knees. whether you ask it of him or not. the only light in this world he is willing to bow his eyes before.

it takes him not too much effort but gojo makes a point of struggling whilst he shifts in your hold. and grins when he finally comes face-to-face with you, drinking in the way your brows are puckered and lips a little parted in an incredulous expression.

his grin simmers down however, when his six eyes notice the spark in your tummy. so tiny. so blinding. so priceless— to him and you both— he knows this, surer than he is of the scars on his palms.

thumbing the hem of your t-shirt, he hums, dragging his eyes back to be drowned in yours, "how many weeks along are you, wifey?"

"satoru," you start, voice turning sharper and just as skeptical as your face was, still is— only to be shushed by a finger to your lips. the man addressed feels his heart skip a beat at your confused big scowl— it's got to be a crime to be as cute as you— really!!!

he pinches your cheek lightly.

"it isn't like i don't remember that, cookie. i just wanted you to say it— c'mon, tell me quickly!" he presses, noting then utilising the moment your face begins to lose its cynical hue over his words.

the scowl lingers there however, twisting your delectably pretty lips—

"nine weeks," you say, hooking a leg over his waist to pull him closer. can he be any closer to you, though? your answer is always a yes, he knows you well enough to know this.

"thirty-one weeks more before we meet our baby."

it's not exactly thirty-one weeks; it's thirty weeks and five days before either of you can meet the baby, but gojo decides not to point out the error. you always hate it when he points out your tiny errors and make a point of snarking about it every time he opens his mouth to speak a word next— the man is wary not to upset his wife, yes, thank you very much.

he offers a sage "hm" in response, one he observes you accept slowly. the scowl lifts itself into a curve so fond— gojo thinks once before he vaults his next query your way. not wanting to see that smile vanish in front of him—

the ask won't cause anything so. but he can never be too sure. he has read too many books and articles to not grasp how fragile pregnancy hormones can make one be.

he tucks a strand of hair behind the shell of your ear.

fingers tarrying there when he sees you lean into his touch— not akin a moth to a bright flame, no. he can never hurt you. not even for once in his wildest dreams—

but how the north pole of a magnet hurries towards the south pole of another magnet. so different in their nature, a perfect pair of opposite crafted by the nature— maybe that's why nothing can ever stop them from rushing to each other once they're proximated, the lines of their mutual attraction existing even when thousands of miles apart.

just like you and him.

contrasting, complementing, completing each other every instant, in every facet of life.

he lets his fingers dance through the tangles in your hair, unravelling the knots in there. that pleased little hum of yours reaches him once again.

stowing the sound away, later to be placed on a pedestal in an ornate glass case as the most valuable praise ever given to him for his effort, he runs a gentle hand, nails scratching your scalp carefully.

"and at nine weeks old, just how big might our baby be?"

"i think there is a chart comparing our baby's size to fruits..." syllables unhurried and a pinch mumbled, you press your heel to draw him in a little more. "i did not really read that too attentively— oh. but. yeah!" a grin forms on your features, sleepy still twinkling in excitement.

"shoko sent me a link to this website earlier today— any ideas, 'toru, what it might be about?"

gojo does have an idea. he has a very, very good idea.

but he chooses not to say that aloud. you look so extremely adorable when you are being this excited. he would hate nothing more than to see your amped up self getting interrupted by him.

he shakes his head. your grin brightens. eyes crinkling with a glint, he can tell even without looking, is knowing.

the tips of your fingers caress his bare back, softer than a breath. "it's about when our baby forms which organs— our baby's eyes are being formed now!!! isn't that too cute, 'toru?"

"it is, cookie," he hums without any hesitation, six eyes activating one more time to zero in on that teeny-tiny spark. then deactivating when he looks back up to your sleepy eyes. a terribly tickled, equally wicked glimmer creeps into his grin. "so our baby is just like a tiny ball of cells with two big blue eyes, huh? they must look so scary, heh— ouch!"

your pinch did not really pain him, but gojo does his best to mimic an awfully wounded puppy, sogging wet from the rain and waiting at the doorstep with his moving blue eyes— it takes less than three seconds before you let go of your glare with a sigh.

you massaging the sore spot on his arm, your husband watches you give yet another sigh.

"first of all, there's no guarantee our baby will have your eye color and not mine, 'toru," you explain, pinning him under your drowsy stare, "it is very difficult to predict that for sure— and secondly: i'll punch you if you ever call our baby scary— sure, they don't really look like a human in this moment, but they'll slowly get there in forty weeks— as per the website, their face, hands and feet are forming in the ninth—"

"okay, alright!! i get your point, my insanely smart, insanely beautiful, insanely sexy wife," gojo cuts in, smiling while warning bells chime in his head at the faintest gloss in your eyes—

but maybe they weren't noisy enough. that is why he doesn't bite his tongue, rather continuing, "but you weren't actually blaming our poor human-ey baby for your clinginess, were you? it's not like they have a telepathic communication set up with you— hell, maybe they haven't even started forming their brain!"

"the baby's brain starts forming by the fifth week, satoru," your quiet reply reaches him exactly when he gets his last giggle out. the moist sheen in your eyes grows more prominent.

and his insides begin to twist—

one-third helpless. two-thirds contrite.

you don't stop talking, tone lower than he has heard you use in nearly forever, "and you better not comment on my bond with our baby— i'll punch you twice if you—"

"i wasn't doing that and i promise to never make you feel that way, my cutie-pie cookie," gojo interrupts, voice far gentler than earlier, just as low as yours, "but feel free to throw me out the house if i ever do that, even accidentally. okay?"

you're not okay.

you never are, when it comes to you being actually harsh to him, even when he's the one asking you to be— shakespeare once called love to be blind— your husband doesn't think you're blind, however. it is your well-contemplated decision to see his mistakes and see each of them as excusable, perfectly pardonable, no matter how silly or serious the world might regard them to be—

you make a noise. somewhat annoyed. unhappy too, yeah. before you push your face into the crook of his neck, nose nuzzling into the flesh there.

you would have bitten him by now. but he reckons you might be a bit too tired for all that. you couldn't even finish your dinner before facing the urge to throw up tonight, yet again.

feeling sorry, almost, gojo resumes his ministrations to your hair, half because you need to fall asleep now; the hands on the clock are close to striking midnight. the other half because he just loves playing with your hair— only to still when you suddenly pull your head back.

brows furrowed as you peer at him, eyes big and earnest.

"you don't really mind when i hug you like this, do you, 'toru?"

"no, cookie!! of course not!!" the man wastes not even a breath before he rushes to explain— because seriously, what!??

sure, he wasn't the first one to fall between you two. but ever since he did fall, he has never not expressed how every second away from you, every fraction of an instant away from you, causes him pain.

and yeah, he might have been a tad too dramatic whilst doing so, but you've always been so good at reading him— then why on earth can't you read him now? why don't you read, he loves it when you seek him out, he loves you more than anyone and anything else??

"good," your satisfied little chirp gives him a light shove away from his frantic thoughts. something tells him he should be put on alert by the way your lips curve into a smug smile next.

but gojo finds himself uncaring. just immensely relieved as he trails his fingers from the back of your head to your chin. thumb reaching out to brush the corner of your infectious smile. you continue.

"but even if you did mind, sorry not sorry— you were the one who put the ring on my finger, so you have to deal with everything i'm, mister!! no refunds nor complaints can be filed here, gojo-san~"

and neither refunds nor complaints he wishes to file, satoru muses to himself as he cups your cheek in one hand. bending down to steal the taste of your beam, your tease, your love for him on his tongue—

not when he has received the world in exchange for letting go of that poor splintered mess of a heart, he used to call his, but is now yours.

and will always stay yours—

"hey 'toru— what will you do if i chomp on your fingers right now, like really hard? will you yell? or will you be the freak that you're and enjoy it, huh?"

gojo pauses.

and wonders.

is there any binding vow one can make to secure oneself to another in every lifetime, for all eternity?

he hopes there is.

your husband really, seriously hopes there is—

'cause no way in heaven, earth or hell, does gojo satoru want to let go of you— and he will not let go of you.

this idea was ROTTING in my brain for ages, but wht gave me the spark– the boost to write this was the wonderful sukuna fic written by ari @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat ❤️❤️❤️ i seriously love u & ur writings sm, babes 🥹🥹 everyone pls go check their masterlist out. it's studded w diamonds and pearls 😌😌🥰

and this is also for my sweet & sour bestie mimi @avatarofstars 🤭🤭— u 🤝 me in being clingy af towards our fictional hubbies 😂😂🥰

hope this was an enjoyable read! pls don't plagiarise, translate or repost this ❤️❤️

masterlist

#gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x you #gojo x reader #jjk x you #jjk x reader #kit posts 📝

[shotmrmiller]

dark-ish simon but only because he cares :(

thinking about how you were doing something menial, like taking out the trash when simon's on leave and he tries to reach for the bags but—

"i've got it, simon. i'm strong and independent too, y'know?" it's such an innocuous comment. light as a feather but it lands heavily on simon's psyche. it'd been a gentle tease meant to brush off his assistance.

but insecurity takes hold instead. an unwanted seed taking root in his head. it has him spiraling, your words twisting and turning, taking a life of their own.

what now? first it's the trash, then it'll be the groceries. the car note. the mortgage. how long will it take until he's no longer wanted? no longer needed?

he watches you, silent as ever, as you titter around with a soft smile on your lips as you water the drying plants on the windowsill. take out a step stool to reach for the cups on the top shelf. open a jar of pickles with a knife, sliding the pointed tip of it under the lid until the seal breaks with a pop.

you've learned to live without him.

he can feel the ground beneath him crumble.

it strangles the last tatters of rationality he has. (not like he had much of a grasp on it to begin with, especially where you're concerned.) he can't have you thinking of him as a choice. to cast him aside, to realize that there's probably better out there for you. someone who won't be gone for months at a time, who won't flirt with death daily.

not when you're it for him.

it grips at his racing heart, panic digging its spurs into his chest. he needs you with a ferocity that transcends obsession. and he needs to be needed by you in equal measure.

it's not just about him anymore— it's about you. 'us'. he won't let you slip through his fingers like grains of sand, not when you're the only reason he fights to come back home. the steady rhythm of your heart, when he lays his head on your chest, is the closest thing to peace he'll ever know.

his determination hardens like tempered steel, his purpose sharpening. simon walks the tightrope of moral ambiguity at all times. nothing new.

this is the only way, he tells himself. the only way to reaffirm his place in your world.

your quiet voice fills the silence of your shared flat as you ramble about the latest gossip there is at your job, unaware that simon is currently messaging johnny and kyle the closest thing to a plea for help they'll ever get from him.

meet me at the usual in an hour. we'll talk then.

he's going to do what he does best.

keep the bad men away.

you'll never know a thing.

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x you

[freedomfireflies]

Punished*

Summary: The one where you've been a brat to your dominant, Harry, and he's finally had enough.

Word Count: 5k

Content Warning: 18+, smut, degradation, spanking, voyerism, daddy kink, sir kink, age gap (6 years but not explicitly mentioned), exhibitionsim if you squint

Right about now, somewhere across town, Professor Styles is pulling your panties out of his pocket.

If you’re correct, he’ll be standing in the lecture hall, giving his opening remarks for his Applied Mathematics class, and reaching for his favorite pen. He’ll dip into his pocket, feel the silky fabric against his fingertips, and he’ll know.

And you will be royally and magnificently fucked.

Because around the time he realizes just what it is that you’ve snuck into his jacket, he’ll also realize that it means you are somewhere across town not wearing any underwear at all.

And he’ll be fucking furious.

But that’s why you did it. It’s what he deserved. After spending all evening torturing you, teasing you, edging you, and taunting you…he left you. Gave you exactly 0 orgasms by the time you went to bed, claiming you didn’t deserve any after being such a brat all day.

In your defense, you weren’t a brat. No, you didn’t exactly do the few things he’d asked of you. And no, you didn’t communicate with him that you were struggling with your essay and feeling stressed and overwhelmed. But you figured an orgasm would help fix a lot of that. Instead, he left you with none.

You felt rather proud of yourself as you subtly and effortlessly dropped your panties into the pocket while you kissed him goodbye. Knowing he’d be pissed and that he’d punish you for it. You secretly hoped he’d pull them out in front of the whole class. Or in front of the other faculty.

Either way, you knew the text was coming. And when your phone pings as you’re leaving your own class, you can’t help but smile. 

You’re in big fucking trouble, little one.

You bite your lip with glee as you head across campus. You don’t answer his message and you certainly don’t apologize. After all, the day is far from through. 

Around four, you return to his apartment. His office hours aren’t over until five and then he has a faculty meeting which will keep him out until seven. It’s hard some days to be away from him for so long. You miss him. It’s even worse that he doesn’t work at the same university you attend, so there’s not even the slightest chance that you’ll catch a glimpse of him during the day. 

It bothers you more than you’d like to admit. And maybe that’s why you like to challenge him. Because at least if he’s upset and punishing you, he’s paying attention. You don’t want to settle into a routine where he comes home, gives you a quick fuck and a kiss, and falls asleep. 

Or even worse…ends the agreement altogether.

You want to know you’re interesting enough to keep around. That you make this relationship worth it for him. He wants to be dominant. And you want to be his submissive. And even if that means getting spanked and edged from time to time…that’s okay.

So, once you get back to his place, you make a plan. He isn’t too upset yet. He needs a push. A gentle nudge.

And you know exactly how to nudge him.

You find his portable security camera, the one he only sets up when he’s out of town and away from the apartment. You bring it into the bedroom and then you turn it on. You know it’ll send him a notification that it’s active and that it’s sensed movement. From there, he’ll be able to open the app on his phone and see everything the camera does.

Which will be you.

On the bed.

Naked.

And touching yourself.

Breaking his favorite rule.

He won’t be able to do anything about it, either. Between office hours and faculty meetings, he won’t have time to send you a chastising text. He won’t have time to warn you or threaten you. 

But he will be able to watch. You know he will. Even if he has to pull it up behind a notebook, his eyes will be glued to the screen and the thought alone makes you giddy.

You set the camera on the dresser, giving him the perfect view of where you plan to sit against the headboard. You strip off your shirt and skirt, but there’s no need to discard of your underwear—he already knows where it is. 

You crawl onto the mattress, and you settle yourself into the collection of pillows. You find your favorite dildo and you spread your legs and you look directly into the lens. 

Then, you smile.

You start slow, first by rubbing your clit, and settling into the sensation. Praying that Harry is somewhere watching right now. Then you start to tease yourself. One finger…then two. Slowly thrusting them into your cunt until you can add a third. The sounds are wet and delicious, and you moan his name even though he can’t hear you.

When you finally work yourself up to the dildo, you’re shaking. It doesn’t take long for you to cum—twice. Making a mess on his bed and on your thighs that you don’t exactly plan to clean up just yet. And after a quick break…you go back for round three before finally tapping out.

And once you’re through and feeling rather victorious, you wait.

However, waiting proves rather difficult once eight o’clock hits and he’s still not home. Then eight becomes nine and you don’t even have so much as a text. 

And you realize not much later that he’s turned the tables.

Not only does he have the upper hand, but he’s using that hand to squeeze you out. To make you sit and sweat and bite the ends of your fingernails. He wants you to realize that he’s won. Even after everything you did today, he’s still won and he’s going to continue winning and you are undoubtedly fucked.

So, when the door finally opens about fifteen minutes later, your heart drops to your ass.

He strides in rather calmly. He tosses his keys into the bowl by the hallway. He slips off his large coat. He loosens his tie. And then he heads to the bar for a bottle of scotch.

He pours himself a drink and he doesn’t look at you as you sit on the sofa and wait anxiously for his reaction. He doesn’t offer you a hello. He doesn’t glare or even smirk. He keeps his back to you, and he takes two very deliberate sips.

Finally…he turns around.

He leans against the counter and begins to roll his sleeves up to his arms. Then, he crosses them over his chest, and in a gentle murmur says, “Hi.”

Desperate to please and to move the scene along, you scoot to the edge of the couch and place your hands in your lap. “Hi, Sir.”

He hums. Soft. Amused. “Sir, hm?”

You nod. “Yes. You are Sir, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” he echoes. “But you certainly didn’t treat me like one today, did you?”

You resist the urge to smile. “What do you mean, Sir?”

He pushes off the bar and takes one step closer. Then, he reaches into his pocket and pulls your panties free, dangling them from his finger. “Why were these left in my coat today, little one?”

“Oh…were they?” You bat your lashes. “Oops. I guess I forgot where I put them.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes, Sir.”

He takes another step. “And does that mean you were in class all day without any?”

You shyly glance toward your lap. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?”

“…yes, Sir.”

“I see.” He puts them back in his pocket. “So, like a little fucking whore, you paraded around campus in nothing but a short skirt with no goddamn panties just to piss me off?"

"...yes, Sir."

"Did you touch yourself during class?"

You blink up at him. "I thought about it. But I waited until I was in my car during lunch."

His expression grows harder. "So you touched yourself twice today. Without asking my permission for either one."

"That's right, Sir."

"And you wanted me to find your panties while I was teaching, then, didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“To mock me.”

“No, Sir.”

“No?”

You shift and offer him your best pout. “I only wanted your attention, Daddy.”

“You have it.” He nods his chin at you. “But that’s not all you wanted, is it?”

You clear your throat. “What do you mean, Professor?”

He reaches now into his other pocket, pulling out his phone and hitting a few buttons before flipping the screen toward you.

And there you are. On the bed. Writhing, moaning. Coming.

Harry looks at you. “You went through quite a bit of trouble to make sure I’d see this, didn’t you?”

You bite your lip.

“In fact, not only did you want me to see you disobeying my rule, you wanted to rub it in my face. Wanted me to get caught watching you in front of all my colleagues and students.” He clicks the phone off. “Isn’t that right?”

He wants your honesty and even though you’re tempted not to give it to him…you need to see him upset.

You straighten up and look him dead in the eye. “That’s right, Sir.”

He leans back and studies you. He’s fighting a smirk now, but that mischievous green gives everything away. “Because you wanted my attention.”

“Yes.”

“And this is how you thought you’d get it.”

“Yes.”

“And how is that working for you so far, little one?”

“Pretty well, actually. You’re here, and you’re pissed, so…”

He leans closer. So suddenly, in fact, that it makes a breath catch in your throat and your eyes pop open.

He rests his hands on his knees and stares right through you. “Fine,” he agrees in an almost devious purr. “If you want me to punish you, darling, I will. In fact, I’d like nothing more than to bend you over my knee right now and feel your skin grow hot from my hand.”

You swallow.

“And then, once you’re fucking soaking my trousers, I’ll sit you down and return your generous favor.” He smiles. “And you…will thank me for every single spank and every single orgasm. The only words I will hear out of this mouth are, ‘Yes, Sir,’ ‘No, Sir,’ and ‘Thank you, Sir.’ Is that understood?”

You nod sheepishly. “Yes, Sir.”

“Good.” He straightens up. “You know what to say if you want to stop, yes?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Tell me.”

“Yellow or red.”

“Good. And what’s our safe word if you’d like to pause the dominant, submissive relationship and just be us?”

“Sunflower.”

“Good girl.” He reaches for your chin, pinching your cheeks tight between his fingers before forcing your head up. “What’s your color right now?”

“Green, Sir.”

“And you understand that my punishment is not a reward for this behavior?” He grips you a touch harder. “Just because I’m giving you what you want doesn’t mean I approve of the means in which you got it?”

Your lashes flutter as you nod in his hold. “I understand…Sir.”

“But you’re not the least bit sorry…are you?”

Slowly, you shake your head.

He smiles to himself before dipping down once again until his lips are only inches from yours. “I plan to change that.”

Your stomach flips.

With that, he releases you, and nods toward the bedroom. “Go. Wait on the bed. I’ll be in when I feel like it.”

You don’t waste another second. You run toward the bed and you sit on the edge and you wait like a good girl. You obey him because you know how badly you want what comes next.

He takes his time. He has another drink. Slips off his shoes. Maybe even answers a few texts. Then, after he’s finished teasing you, he strolls into the bedroom.

He says nothing as he takes a seat beside you on the mattress. He hardly even looks at you. His expression is stoic—unrelenting. The way it always is when he’s slipping further into the punishing dominant role. 

“Come,” he says, and pats his thigh. 

You do. You crawl over his lap and lay your stomach over his knees, bare ass eager and waiting. 

He squeezes your hip. “Are you ready, little one?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good.” He smooths his palm over the curve of your left cheek before there’s a sharp smack to the right. 

You jolt, sucking in a quiet gasp. “Thank you, Sir.”

You hear him hum appreciatively. He does it again to the other side this time. Hard. Firm. 

“Thank you, Sir.”

Again and again. Sometimes on the same side, sometimes in a specific pattern. He goes until you’re nearly numb and tears are pooling in your eyes. The same way arousal is pooling between your legs. Exactly the way he wanted.

Because it’s not the pain that does it for you. It’s his pain. It’s the knowledge that he trusts you enough to do this. And you trust him enough to let him.

He wants to take the time to punish you and make you a better submissive. And even though you annoy him and challenge him, he wants to keep you around. He isn’t going to lose interest.

But most importantly, he enjoys it just as much as you do.

By the fifteenth spank—with a few moments of rest in-between—you’re raw and undoubtedly very warm. Despite his slight anger, he makes sure to caress your skin and show it a bit of care along with the abuse. He listens closely for your safe word, and he only continues once you’ve thanked him. A sign that you’re coherent and still present in the scene.

After a couple more, he stops. “Tell me again why I’m doing this. Let me know that you understand.”

Through a few sniffles, you manage to answer, “Because…I disobeyed your rule.”

“And?”

“…and I disobeyed you.”

“And?”

“I went to class without any panties.”

“Mm.” He seems to huff to himself. “What else?”

“I could have embarrassed you in front of your students and colleagues.”

“And?”

“…and I’m not sorry about any of it.” You glance over your shoulder. “I’m a bad submissive.”

“You are,” he agrees. “Quite possibly the worst. My sweet angel became my little devil overnight all because she’s an attention whore who needs Daddy to constantly put her in her place.”

He reaches for your jaw again and forces your attention on him.

“Is that what you are, darling? A greedy little slut who throws a tantrum anytime her dominant stays out late? You have to disrupt my life, my work, and my students because you’re so cock-dumb and desperate?”

Your heart is racing. The degrading comments make your insides wrench in the best way as you squeeze your thighs together. “…yes, Sir.”

“I provide for you,” he continues, pinching your cheeks with a rather unrelenting grip. “I care for you. I work hard to make money just so I can spend it on you. And what do I get in return? A disobedient little fuck-toy that can’t follow a single goddamn rule. All because she couldn’t tell me she missed me.”

He pulls you up until you’re sitting and your ass begins to throb in pain as you’re forced over the rough fabric of his trousers.

“Tell me you missed me,” he demands sharply. “Be a good girl for once and tell me what you really need.”

“You,” you breathe. “I need you, Professor. I missed you. I wanted you around.”

“Why didn’t you tell me that sooner, huh?” He wraps his fingers around the back of your neck. “Why did you play games with me?”

You pout. “Because I like playing with you.”

He scoffs. “You’re a brat. You’re a fucking brat and you need to be broken.”

With that, you’re nearly shoved off his lap as he moves to one of the dressers to search for something.

Handcuffs.

You already know what comes next and even though you know you won’t like it…you can’t help but feel just a little excited.

“Move to the headboard,” he says. “Hands on the bars.”

You scoot into position, wrists firm against the poles as he tightens the cuffs and makes sure they’re nice and snug. 

In this position, he can do anything he wants. He can fuck you, he can taste you, he can have both holes at once. And you can’t do anything but let him. 

Once you’re where he wants you, he gets off of the bed, and begins to unbutton his fancy shirt.

You enjoy the show. In fact, you practically drool as you watch those long, nimble fingers pop each button on the way down. The way the fabric slides against his tan, tattooed skin before dropping down his arms and onto the floor. The way he tugs on his belt before undoing his pants and letting those go as well.

And there he is. Clad in nothing more than his briefs, that beautiful, gorgeous body on display. He puts in quite a bit of time to keep up his appearance and stamina. If he’s not teaching and he’s not with you, he’s at the gym. He runs, he does yoga, he plays basketball. He’s a very fit man and you honestly can’t believe how lucky you are to reap the rewards of his hard work.

Your lips part, ready to call for him. Your eyes feel heavy with lust and your legs are practically trembling. You part them in anticipation as he drops his briefs and puts a firm hand around his cock.

He strokes himself a few times before he grabs his phone. You stare like you’re in heat and maybe you are because fuck, the way his tip is so red and swollen and absolutely delicious. And his hand, his glorious hand. Nothing has ever looked so good. The way he squeezes and pumps. The way his thighs flex as he walks back toward the lounge chair in the corner of the room to sit. The way the tattoos move with every thrust.

You blink. “Wait…what are you doing?”

His eyes snap to yours. “Did I say you could speak?”

“…no, but—”

“Excuse me?”

You exhale sharply. “No, Sir.”

“No.” He leans back, one hand still around his cock while the other rotates his phone until he can watch the screen clearly. “What I am doing is returning your favor.”

Your brows furrow.

“See…you wanted to touch yourself. Without me,” he explains almost smugly. “You wanted to torture me. When I couldn’t do anything about it. When I couldn’t touch you or feel you or taste you. So, I’m following your lead. I’m letting you watch. I’m letting you see everything that you’re missing.”

And you realize then. You understand. You understand and you fucking hate it because this is so much worse than what you were imagining.

“Harry…Harry, wait—”

He clicks his tongue and shoots you a startling look of waning. “What did I say?”

You whimper. “Sir, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I made a mistake. I was just…I missed you and I—”

“I don’t care,” he says before he hits a button on his phone and the speakers come alive with the sound of your voice. “You get to watch me while I get to watch you. And it’s a shame. Because now I have to waste it on myself instead of filling that sweet pussy the way you love.”

You whine again but it’s lost beneath the sounds of your pants coming from his phone. He doesn’t look at the real you. He looks at the disobedient version on the screen. The one with spread legs and a rather pornographic moan that almost embarrasses you.

He fists himself in the kind of way that makes every glorious muscle in his arm flex and tighten. It’s cruel how he makes you wait here, calling his name. Unable to do for him what he’s doing for himself.

“Look at you,” he exhales, lashes fluttering as he stares at your performance. “Stretching your little cunt with your fingers. Bet it felt good, didn’t it?”

“Yes…yes, Sir—”

“Did you think of me, little devil? Did you think of my fingers when you were fucking your little pussy. Did you pretend they were mine?”

You nod so fast, your head aches. “Yes, Sir.”

“I bet.” He squeezes the tip and hisses before moving back down. His chest is heaving, skin practically glowing beneath the lamp beside him. He’s beautiful like this. Jaw clenched and thighs spread. “I imagined your voice when I was in my meeting, watching. Didn’t have the sound on…but I knew. I know your sounds. Play them in my head on a loop.”

You yank on the cuffs and you don’t care that they’re cutting into your wrists. What he’s doing hurts so much more.

“And that fucking dildo,” he continues. He groans softly and his hips lift. “Yet another toy you aren’t meant to use without me. But there you are. Taking it so well. All the way, hm? Like it’s nothing.”

You need him to look at you. He’s so close and you just…you need him to put his eyes on your body and see the way you’re dying without him. It’s warm in his light and you think you might disappear if he doesn’t look at you just once before he finishes. 

“It’s such a shame,” he murmurs. “Such a shame that you’d rather have silicone than my cock.”

You sniffle. “Daddy, no—”

“And if that’s what you want, that’s what you’ll get. For the next week, if I decide you get to cum, I’ll use the toy. And then I’ll let you watch as I finish myself off alone.” Finally, he looks up, and you want to wilt. “Or maybe I’ll use a toy, too. Maybe the fleshlight we got.”

Tears dance down your cheeks. You wish he was inside of you right now. Fucking you, stretching you. Pressing down on the bulge in your belly so you can really feel him. His hand is nothing compared to your pussy and you both know it.

“Professor, please—”

“Uh-uh,” he tuts. “No. You don’t get to cry. You don’t get to beg or feel sorry. You asked for this. You wanted to hurt me. To be punished and be noticed. So, I’m noticing you, darling. And what I’ve noticed is that I’ve been far too lenient with you.”

You squeeze your thighs in an attempt for relief, but it does nothing and he knows it.

“See, I thought you were good.” He rests his head back against the chair, overcome with pleasure, and you know he’s trying hard to hold out. “I thought…that when I asked you to do something, you did it. That if you needed me…if you needed to cum…you talked to me. You followed our rule and you obeyed. But clearly I don’t punish you enough if you think slipping your panties into my coat is a fun little game.”

“Sir…Sir, I don’t, I’m—”

“Or maybe they’re just the wrong sort of punishments,” he barrels on. “What you really wanted was to be spanked and tied up. Maybe even wanted me to use my belt, hm? Be rough with you? Make you cry? And I gave it to you. Because I’m a good dominant. But I need to be a better one. And a better dominant makes sure his submissive learns her lessons.”

You try to sit up. Catch his eye again. Plead with him. Because you don’t like where this is going.

“Starting now, your punishment will hurt. It will teach. If you so much as roll your eyes when I speak to you, I’ll have you sleeping in the guest room until you can fix your attitude.” He glances over his phone screen and hums when he sees you finish. “And if you try to pull another stunt like you did today, you won’t get to cum at all, and I might even send you back to your apartment.”

The tears feel hot as they drip down your chin. “Daddy…”

“Tell me you understand,” he demands of you now. “Tell me that you hear my rules. That you plan to obey them and respect them the way you need to obey and respect me.”

You’re tempted to throw a tantrum. To thrash and cry and beg, but you know it’ll only make things worse. So, you make a quick motion with your head, and whimper, “Yes, Sir.”

And your submissive reply is what tips him over the edge. He cums—hard—and with a rather lewd moan before spilling all over his hand, stomach, and thighs. 

You hate it. He was right, it is wasted. Staining his skin instead of yours. To be washed off and disposed of instead of slipping down your throat or filling your cunt. A cruel, sadistic punishment that he seems to enjoy.

And he still doesn’t look at you. He doesn’t acknowledge your pain. Pretends you’re not even in the room. Instead, he grabs a washcloth from one of the drawers and cleans himself up before coming over to you. So there’s no chance you’ll get even a single drop.

He sits on the bed beside you and looks down. He pinches your chin—softer this time—and makes your tear-filled eyes look at him.

“I expect you to follow these rules, little one,” he repeats gently. “And I expect you to understand why you’re being punished. I don’t do it to hurt you. In fact, it hurts me more than it hurts you. Having to send you away or use a toy instead of giving you my cock? That’s not what I want. But it’s what you deserve. And I have to be a good dominant and make sure you learn your lesson.”

You try to nuzzle yourself closer to his hand and he smiles. “I do understand, Daddy, and I’m sorry. Just…just missed you.”

His expression softens now and he seems gutted. “So you said. And I’d like to know what I’ve been doing to make you feel so neglected so that it doesn’t happen again.”

You shake your head quickly. “Nothing, Sir. Just…your hours have been later. And sometimes I have a lot to study. And by the time we’re both finally home, we have to sleep. And then I feel like I haven’t seen you in weeks.”

He coos and reaches down to press a kiss to the tip of your nose. “Oh, darling. I know life is a bit hectic right now. And I haven’t called to check-in as much as I should, have I?”

You sniffle. “You have. But a check-in doesn’t replace the real thing.”

“I know.” He leaves a kiss to your cheek now. “I’m so sorry, my love. With the end of the semester, I’ve got so much grading to do, and so many final projects to oversee. There’s a lot of discussion happening in our department, and I’ve been pulled in a lot of different directions. I’ve been absent and neglecting one of my favorite priorities. And for that, I’m so sorry. And I will try to do better. Can you forgive me?”

You smile and nod as quickly as you can. “Always, Daddy.”

He chuckles. “My good girl. But you know that just because I haven’t been as present doesn’t give you a right to act out, yes?”

“…yes, Sir.”

“And I expect you to talk to me in the future if you’re feeling like this?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good. Do you have any questions for me?”

You nod again. “Can you please hold me?”

His smile feels like a breath of spring. “Of course.”

He undoes the cuffs and takes careful hold of your wrists. He grabs some calming salve from the nightstand beside him and applies it to the slight marks on your skin, just to make sure you’ll be all right and won’t feel any more pain. And once it’s on, he pulls the covers back, and tucks you both in.

You feel good in his arms, your cheek against his heart. There’s still a very prominent ache between your thighs but you know better than to ask him to relieve it. This is part of your lesson. He’ll make it up to you later—even if he only uses a toy to do so. But it won’t even matter because it’s him. And you’ll take anything he gives you.

The slight scruff on his face scratches your forehead as he rubs it against you to make you squeal. And you feel so happy now that he’s your Harry again. The man you feel safest with. 

“Harry?” you whisper after the room has gone quiet.

“Hm?”

“I really am sorry about the panties. I didn’t want you to get caught.”

He laughs softly and kisses your temple. “I think if anything, it would have given me points.”

You grin. “The girls would have been so jealous.”

“Oh, I don’t think so.”

“I do. You’re hot, Professor. I don’t have to be your student to know all of your students want to fuck you.”

He glances down with a smirk. “All of them, hm?”

“Every single one. Have you seen yourself? Have you seen what you wear? And your hair and that beard and those eyes—”

“Okay,” he murmurs, and cups your cheek. “You’re very sweet, darling. And maybe you should give me your panties more often so I can remind everyone who I belong to.”

Your heart skips. The word belong means something more to the two of you than it might to anyone else. As his submissive, you do belong to him.

But he belongs to you, too. You belong to each other. This is a partnership—a relationship, no matter the dynamic. And the idea of him flaunting your claim on him makes you giddy.

“Daddy?” you whimper.

“Yes, little one?”

 “Can we please change the subject before this gets any worse for me?”

His brows furrow. “Worse?”

You shift your legs between his and his eyes widen when he feels the smearing of arousal against his thigh. 

“Ah,” he breathes before smiling. “M’sorry, honey. Know it must really ache, hm?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“And after all this edging, it’d probably feel so good to cum, wouldn’t it?”

Another nod. “Yes, Professor.”

“Mmm.” He kisses you. “Too bad. Maybe next time, yeah?”

You groan but you do kiss him back. Because you know that next time…

He’ll make it worth it.

Hehe this was fun and I am so down to explore them more later if we ever want!!! THANK YOU FOR READING 😭💞

~ Main Masterlist

Amazing divider by @firefly-graphics! 💞

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[surielstea]

Sweet Temptations

Pairing: Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary: Azriel enters a bet with his brothers on who can go the longest without sex with their mate, Reader makes it hard for him to win.

Warnings: Smut | Minors DNI | 18+ | p in v | creampie | rough sex | shadow play | the slightest bit of bondage | pet names (love, baby, angel) | 2k words of smut cause I love all you freaks

6.2k words

I tread softly down the long hallway, following the golden tether connecting me and my mate. Shadows weave through my fingers and twirl up my calves, following at my side until I stop at a familiar door.

I creak open the private library's door and peer my head in only to find Azriel in a large leather chair that I would be drowning in if it was me who sat in it. He was lounging carelessly, a book between his hands as he flipped through the pages.

If he knew I was at the doorway he didn’t show it, just continued reading without a stir, he didn't look up to me either. So I took the opportunity to gawk at the beauty that is my mate, to admire his elegant features. It was no secret Azriel was the prettiest of the three-winged Illyrians. It didn't matter what your type was, my mate seemed to be able to make anyone flush bright red with a few words.

My gaze wandered over his complexion that I’ve admired countless times, those sharp cheekbones that seemed to be able to cut steel, his tousled black waves that drifted over his forehead, those hazel eyes rapidly scanning over the page of his book, and his golden skin that was fully on display due to him being shirtless, I was the culprit for his missing clothing, the soft black shirt draped over my frame, going down to my exposed thighs.

"I can feel you staring." He finally speaks and I startle but he still doesn't look up to me. I decided just looking wasn't nearly enough, because anybody could look at him, and I didn't want to be anybody, I wanted my hands on him the way only a lover could have. I step into the private library and close the door behind me. My steps are silent as I approach his side but again, he's still not sparing me a glance.

Something like envy makes me frown, being jealous over a book was foolish but Azriel's eyes were always on me. He is constantly observing me, silently watching no matter the circumstance. It was such a normal occurrence in our relationship that I had grown used to his eternal notice, not realizing how much I loved it until now, until this foreign attention-craving attitude took over my emotions that screamed look at me.

"Azriel," I sit on the armrest of the large chair, I feel pathetic being so desperate like this.

"Hm?" That's all he replies with, but he still won't look at me, why won't he notice me? It wasn't that I needed the attention. He could do his own thing I didn't mind, but I also didn't want to be ignored.

"I'm going to make some breakfast, do you have a preference?" I place a hand on his arm, tracing my nail over his tattoo, something I do so often that I don’t have to look at the tattoo to know where the inky lines are.

"Whatever you make will be good." He said, his words slightly clipped. I crease my brows but nod and place a kiss on his temple before sliding off of the chair. Perhaps he was just preoccupied with his thoughts.

I walk back to the door, giving him one last confused glance before leaving the library and aiming my way towards the kitchen.

I decided on making a breakfast quiche, something simple so I could mull over my thoughts while I baked. I learned the recipe from Rhys's mother so it comforted both me and Azriel I suppose, growing up in that house every winter when they weren’t preoccupied at windhaven held some of my favorite memories, as well as some of the worst. I mated with Azriel in that house, on my twentieth birthday it had clicked and we’ve been together ever since— but this was the first time Azriel has ever ignored me.

As I cooked I wondered what was going on with him, to be distracted over what he was reading I could understand, I've done that to him nearly a hundred times but the way he spoke almost sounded restrained? Like he needed to hold back from saying anything else or even doing anything else but sit there still reading.

I played the quiche once it was done on two ornate plates. I've always liked to cook, but the three winged males seemed to be against it when we were younger, saying that I didn't have to since we were in Illyria, that just because I was a girl didn’t mean I had to pick up that lifestyle. I had to make it clear to them that I wasn't their maid and I wasn't even Illyrian, it's not like I went around cleaning up after the messy boys anyway, in fact, Rhys’s mother gave them more chores than me, which has always irked Cassian.

"Az, food is ready!" I shouted down the hall and to my surprise he came down the stairs in mere seconds, without the book in his hands. "For you." I slid one of the plates over to him and he blinked down at it, still not looking at me as he carried them over to the table.

"My favorite," He hummed as I walked over to him and placed utensils beside his dish. "Thank you." He picks up the fool and cuts into his quiche. I frown. He usually kisses me after I make a meal for him, or at the least gives me a hug. I muffle a sigh and opt to lean down and kiss his cheek instead, then take a seat beside him in front of my own meal.

We ate in silence like always, but today it was slightly uncomfortable, not fully awkward, but just... off. The food was good and Azriel had it disappearing in minutes, at least he still likes my cooking. When I finish he collects both of our dishes and takes them to the sink where he'll wash them later tonight.

"It was delicious as always my love, thank you." He calls over his shoulder as he wipes his hands, but he doesn't look at me. I would do anything right now to get him to look at me.

I look at the wall of windows to my side and notice the sun rising, golden and pink hues painting the sky. "Don't you have training with Cassian today?" I ask, flitting my eyes back to him.

"Mhm, I'm going to get ready now." He says at the base of the stairs. My stomach twists anxiously, have I done something wrong? Why is he being so distant?

“Can I come?” I ask once he’s halfway up the steps.

“If you’d like to, get dressed,” He replies dryly and a frown tugs at my lips. He only talked to me in vague words, not weighing in on his own opinion on anything like I was used to, normal flowing conversation. And maybe I was in my head, but I wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity to watch my mate train under the golden sun.

I rush up the stairs and enter my shared bedroom, going straight to the armoire and finding a simple outfit. I pull a pair of pants on, I wasn’t training and only spectating but it’d feel wrong to show up to a training ring in a gown. I swapped out Azriel’s shirt that still clung to my body for a top that matched my flowing bottoms, the style reminding me of what Amren typically wore.

“Az can you tie me?” I approached his side of the bedroom where he was adjusting the siphon on his gauntlet. I turned around and held my hair up before he could reply, but instead of his hands that grabbed ahold of the strings it was silky shadows, cold against my bare back as they tied the strings into dainty bows.

He walked out of the room before they were finished and I chased after him, feeling pathetic while trying any ploy to get his attention but if he would just tell me what was going on I’d be willing to help him, but I couldn’t do that if he ignored me.

I intertwined my hand with his and he squeezed it on instinct, then quickly loosened his hold like he wasn’t allowed to show me any form of affection.

He wasted no time before shadow-walking us to the top of the house of wind where Cassian always trained with my mate. He doesn't say anything, just lets us slip into that darkness of realms. I cling to his arm tighter, just in case I fall into another pitch-black realm full of mysterious creatures. The darkness only lasted a mere second until we were on the roof of the mansion Az and I used to live in.

I steady myself with Azriel's arm but he doesn't return the movement, as if he didn't want me to be anywhere near him. I disband our arms as soon as I can stand on my own. I notice Cassian across the rooftop, Nesta beside him, seething so noticeably I thought steam might come from her ears. I walk over to the sitting area where the water station resides, Nesta following suit as our mates warm up with their usual movements.

I knew better than to ask Nesta why she seemed so irritated but when she sat right beside me I felt safe enough to say she wasn't mad at anything to do with me.

Nesta and I had become close friends while I resided at the house of wind, Azriel and I only moved out about a year after her and Cassian’s mating bond clicked. But during that time Nesta would often confide in me. When she felt she couldn't talk to Cassian but needed someone, anyone who would understand. I happened to be that person. It started with romance book recommendations the house hadn't already given to her, then moved to deeper things. Things like Tomas or problems she was having with Cassian, or even her struggles with the power from the Cauldron. However, there were still things she refused to talk about, her sisters for example.

"I'm going to kill him." She gritted out as the two males began to spar.

"Tell me about it." I huffed, staring at the warriors fighting so roughly, not their usual fluid movements. Like they needed to get an anger out that's been pent up. Sweat glistened off their tan skin, discarding their shirts minutes ago— not going past me or Nesta's notice. The golden sun beamed down on them like a spotlight as they battled, swords clashing and slamming down onto the others, they were uncontrolled and savage, so far from the routine maneuvers and clever counters.

"What'd he do this time?" I ask, propping my elbows on my knees and leaning my chin into my hands, boredom enveloping me with open arms.

"He's not paying any attention to me." She huffs and I freeze. "I went as far as to try and give him head this morning and he outright ignored me," Nesta grumbled, picking at her nails. My confusion doubled over.

"Azriel's doing the same," I mumbled, sitting up to look at her confused. "He won’t look at me and will barely even talk to me," I explain and she glares at the two men on the mat, her stare so deathly I thought lightning might strike down on our mates.

"There's no way they've turned celibate right?" Nesta creased her brows and I snort at the idea alone.

"Them two? No way." I shake my head, leaning back into my chair.

"Maybe we should contact Feyre, perhaps Rhys has something to do with this." I offer.

"The three of them always seem to be up to something." She glowered.

"I'll be right back unless you want to come to the River house with me?" I ask. She shakes her head no and I nod, understanding.

I winnow straight into the foyer of the River House. Feyre who was sitting in the living room looked more than pissed. She glanced at me but wasn’t shocked when I suddenly appeared in her home. "Is Rhys ignoring you?" I sigh and she nods with a frown. "Where is he?" I glance around the sitting room as if the High Lord might be hiding.

"Out with Nyx," She kicks the toddler's toy by her foot weakly.

"What the hel is going on?" I sit beside her on the couch.

"They're doing a bet." She rolls her eyes. "Who can ‘hold out’ the longest." She makes a quotation gesture around her words and I scoff.

"You're kidding." My jaw nearly drops.

"Nope. They thought it'd be the only thing they could beat Azriel at, so you probably have it the worst." She huffs. "Stupid Illyrian pride." The high lady uttered. I'm going to strangle my mate.

"So they’re doing a sex ban on each other." I scratch the back of my head in astonishment.

"Sounds typical." She hums.

"I'm going to fix this. We’re going to make them lose." I stand from my seat. "Put on your sluttiest outfit and get Nyx a babysitter," I order her, an idea blooming in my head. "They might be prideful but not even Rhys can resist a wanting female," I explain and a feline smile curves over her lips.

I had told Nesta the same as Feyre, dress in something her mate can’t resist her in, drive him mad. We both left training before it was over. The males didn't bother noticing so we didn't say goodbye.

I took my time in choosing an outfit. The idea of Azriel's pride being more important than so much as looking at me made me beyond furious. If he wanted to ignore me over a stupid bet then I'd give him a taste of his own medicine. I selected a lingerie set that was a cobalt blue, his favorite color to see me in, due to it matching the color of his siphons, it was some possessive nature to have me dressed in a color that so clearly connected me to him.

I put the set on, delicate lace and soft mesh that he's yet to see, the kind I know he loves to rip off. I put on a white nightgown over the garments, sheer enough to still see the sapphire underwear but also opaque enough to prompt curiosity. I leave my hair down, I don't mess with it at all. He likes it down, and likes to run his hands through it. Another thing I won't let him do until he admits to losing this stupid wager between him and his brothers. I put a thin garter on my thigh, the only blue piece fully visible.

I run my fingers along a shelf of perfumes, selecting the one I usually wore when we went on dates, reminding him of those nights he'd run the tip of his nose along the column of my throat and smell that insatiable scent. I sprayed it on me, but also misted his reading chair with it, he couldn't escape the thought of me if he tried. A devious smile curved my lips as I placed the perfume back into its rightful place.

The front door of the house opens and I freeze. I know it's him. I grin and exit our bedroom, padding down the stairs until I'm just across the hall from him. His hair was pushed back and he was still glistening in sweat. Gods, he looked so perfect it was hard to stay mad. But when he didn't bother glancing at me all that rage returned.

A shadow swirled up my thigh and I allowed it to travel around the garter. Another zipped toward me, curving around my waist as if to recognize what I was wearing. I smiled down at the dark tendrils and they zipped away, quickly returning to their master and brushing up his wings, those perfect and large wings I needed my hands on. Shadows curved around his ear, telling him all about what I was wearing and immediately his gaze snapped to mine.

Those hazel eyes finally came into contact with my own. And gods how nice it was to be seen again. I remained strong. I gave him a gentle smile and walked closer.

"What are you doing?" His eyes followed me, that familiar attentiveness I missed so much returning.

"What do you mean?" I tilt my head innocently.

"Why are you dressed like that." His hands fist at his sides and I allow his eyes to drift everywhere.

"The nightgown was a gift from the boutique in The Rainbow, on the house after I bought all those presents for solstice," I explain, the lie easy on my tongue, I had bought this for our anniversary which was only a few weeks from now, but seeing that utterly desperate look on his face made showing him earlier worth it. "Do you not like it?" I do a small twirl and his knuckles turn white as the dress flows up and reveals a portion of my underwear.

"It's see-through." He gritted out and I frowned, looking down at myself.

"Is it? I hadn't realized. It's hard to tell in the darkness of our bedroom I suppose." I shrug, looking back up to him.

"It's pretty, just wear a slip under it if we leave the house." He hums casually, then brushes past me and goes into the library. Anger simmers inside of me as I hear the door close. How had that not worked? How much more direct could I get?

I sigh and quickly follow after him. Opening the door and shutting it behind me. He sat in the leather chair, as expected, book in his hands.

I wandered the room absent-minded, peering at the shelves with curious eyes, plotting my next move.

I smile at the idea I get and begin reaching for a book far out of my reach.

“Az? Can you help me?” I mumble, but my reaching causes my dress to lift so when he looks over at me he’s met with the most tempting sight he had ever seen. His movements were rigid as he stood up, coming closer but I didn’t move out of his way, just continuing to jump for the book. “The green one,” I gestured to the dusty spine and he nods, easily grabbing it for me but once I stop reaching for it I settle flat onto my feet, the curve of my ass coming back to press against his hips. He let out a quiet, low grunt that I wouldn’t have been able to hear if he wasn’t right behind me.

I turn around to face him with a cheeky smile. He holds the book I had no interest in reading out to me, his white knuckling grip proof of his restraint.

“Thanks, Az,” I take the book and he nods with a grunt before going back to his chair, sinking into it with a slightly defeated demeanor, his pitiful expression making me smile.

I bound over to his chair, settling myself on the armrest, my legs draped over his as he continued to ignore me. I place a hand on his bare shoulder and begin massaging the tight area.

"You're sore Az," I mumble. "Maybe we should take a bath?" I tilt my head. His face remains stoic, but he is gripping his book like the edge of a cliff.

I move my hands lower, to his shoulder blade where I could knead the knot of muscle there. "What do you think? I'll even wash your wings." I brush my fingers over where his wings began at his muscular back. He jolted, his book slamming shut and his head whipping to me with a wide lust-filled gaze. "Is that a yes?" I chuckle. He only narrows his eyes, like a silent interrogation. "Az, I'm going to need some words." I place a hand on his cheek.

"Are you doing this on purpose?" He says through his teeth.

"Doing what?" My voice was innocent, if he didn't know any better he'd be buying it.

"I just know those training sessions are so long and hard, I thought it'd be nice to reward my mate." My selected words weren't helping his case.

“What do you know?” He says the words like a threat and I giggle nervously.

“Are you alright Az? You’ve been acting weird all morning,” I observe and a muscle in his jaw feathers as he tightens it shut, I run my fingers down that very jaw, feeling it flex under my touch as he attempts to read me. “Are you worried about something? You know I’m always willing to help you relieve your stress,” I hum, slowly slipping into his lap, straddling over his hips and his eyes just follow the action, admiring the way I fit so perfectly on top of him.

“No, love I’m fine,” He defends and I dip down, trailing kisses down his neck, finding his pulse point and swiping my tongue over the area.

“You sure, there’s nothing I can do for you?” I tease my hips over his erect length, painfully straining against his pants. I return to the area of his neck, sucking hard as he attempts a reply.

“No, I, fuck— love, I’m fine,” He curses and a smile curves my lips in triumph.

“Alright,” I pull from his neck. “If there’s anything you want me to do I’ll do it, okay?” I stress my words with a slight lift to my brows and he nods hesitantly. “I think I’m going to take a nap, why don’t you join me? It could help call your nerves?” I offer and he nods, thinking it a good idea to sleep through the rest of this stupid bet until one of his brothers gives in but by gods was he wrong.

I get off his lap and grab his hands after he sets his book down, pulling him up and then guiding him to our bedroom with an effortless sway of my hips they had his hands tightening on mine.

Once we were in the comfort of our bedroom he shut the door behind us and I let go of his hands in favor of grabbing the straps of my nightgown and dipping them from my shoulders, allowing the sheer fabric to pool at the floor, revealing my lingerie set to him entirely.

“What are you doing?” He grits through his teeth, I look back at him and I nearly laugh. He was backed up against the door like prey trapped in a lion's den. I smirk at him and crawl into our bed.

“That nightgown is too itchy to sleep in, this is much better,” I sigh and he swallows thickly, slowly approaching our bed like it might explode at any sudden movement.

He eventually strips down to his boxers and slides into the sheets beside me, I waste little time before throwing myself over him like a second mattress.

My legs intertwine with his, my arms wrapping around the back of his neck, my body pressed to his. He flexed at the feeling of my breasts brushing against his bare chest.

“Are you always this touchy?” He said and I asked, pulling him impossibly closer.

“You don’t like it?” I feign a pout and he pales, brows creasing.

“No, I’m sorry my love I just, I hadn’t noticed it until today,” He stumbles over his words, making my frown turn into a sickeningly sweet smirk.

“You’re so cute Az,” I mumbled, leaning up and pecking his lips tenderly. “I love you,” I whisper so softly that if he wasn’t so close he wouldn’t have been able to hear it. But he did, and it wasn’t the lingerie, or the perfume, or even kissing his neck that made him snap, no, it was those three words that he thought he’d never hear romantically, and I just gave them to him so casually he thought the world stopped spinning for a moment.

“Oh, fuck it,” He grumbled before crashing his lips onto mine, the tension leaving my body as he rolls over me and settles between my legs. His kiss was starving, like he couldn’t get enough, he had been craving me all day and ignoring that feeling but now it was all crashing down onto him at once and it was impossible to get enough. His kiss was all-consuming as his thumb came to my chin and opened my mouth manually, his tongue slipping inside without forethought. My tongue met his just as quickly, they didn’t battle but they danced around each other, a steady balance of give and take between us.

“You have no idea how much I need to fuck you,” He pants onto my lips and I smile.

“What are you waiting for?” I tease and he shakes his head.

“No, it’s not making love, I need to fuck you,” He warns and a primal part of me loves the tone of his voice, the neediness of his words.

“C’mon Az don’t be shy, fuck me already,” I plead and he moves from my lips down to my neck, his mouth mapping every expanse of skin he can find.

“You’re evil,” He sighs against my chest as I arch my breasts into his face.

“You ignored me all morning, you’re the evil one,” I claim and he smirks.

“I’m sorry baby, let me make it up to you,” He hums, then moves lower, so much lower until his breath was fanning against my inner thigh and he was leaving hickeys trailing up to my heat. His eyes glow golden as he looks up at me, pure lust as his expression.

"Please." I nod my head and he's like a fucking beast ready to have a full-course meal.

He wastes no time, not one second was I not being pleasured. Scarred fingers dip into the waistband of my panties, pulling at them with a force that makes them tear. His breath fans over my slick and I arch up, grabbing onto the sheets to keep myself steady.

He lifts a leg over his shoulder and a long swipe of his perfect tongue passes through my folds. It all happened so quickly, how soaked I was for him. I could feel him smiling against my cunt, as if he was craving the taste of me all day and finally got it on his tongue, his tongue that was swirling over my clit in tight circling motions.

I mewled, my back arching as fingers swiped through my sex, lubing himself with my ecstasy before entering two long fingers where I needed him most.

"Oh fuck," I breathed out, my head falling back against the shelf, it was all so fast, so needy.

"You’re so perfect like this, spread out like a good girl who can’t wait to be eaten," His baritone voice against the apex of my thighs reverberated up my spine making me shiver.

"Mhm," I nod helplessly, relishing in the feeling of his scars rubbing against my sensitive walls, those scars that added so much to the feel of his fingers inside of me, toying with that spongy bundle of nerves that was so relentless for more.

I moaned his name repeatedly, grinding down on his hand and his face as he sucked and licked at my clit. The stimulation was too much and I was hurdling toward a release.

"Az, I'm gonna—" My breath gets caught in my throat as he lays his tongue flat against my folds, his nose digging into my clit.

"I know baby, go ahead." Cold air fanned against my slick and my hands twined into his hair, forcing his face into my cunt as I ground my hips up onto his tongue, matching the thrusts of his fingers as that knot in the pit of my stomach tightened. He groaned at the feeling of me shoving his face into my heat, letting out a grunt as he ruts his hips down onto the bed, needing to be inside of me.

"Cum on my tongue." His voice was a demand, the kind of voice that made people fear him, the kind of voice that had me unraveling on his fingers, just like he ordered.

A string of moans escaped me, my head lolling back as euphoric waves crashed into me. He supported my hips since my legs were rendered useless from shaking too damned much. He gave gentle kitten licks to my now overstimulated cunt, allowing me to gently come down. He slowly lifted from between my thighs, slick coating his lips and he licked them clean, as if savoring the taste of me.

He brought his mouth to mine, allowing me to taste myself as I threw my arms around his neck carelessly, pulling his weight down onto me, needing to be entirely consumed by him as I sampled myself off his tongue.

“Fuck me Az,” I murmur.

“I won’t be able to control myself,” He shakes his head but I didn’t care, I needed more, needed his heavy cock sheathed inside of me.

“I don’t want control, I want you feral,” I beg and something primal sparks in his gaze, a slow smirk forming over his lips.

“On your stomach then,” He orders and my chest fills with both nerves and excitement as I do as he says, flipping over and hiking up onto my knees, my pussy throbbing in anticipation as I straddle my legs, my body forming a perfect crescent moon as I arched my ass up, arms supporting the rest of my body so I don’t fall into the pillows.

His hands come to my hips, dragging from my waist to my thighs, over the curve of my ass, then repeating. He was savoring the feel of me, the view I was so generously offering him.

The rustling behind me hinted that he had freed himself from his boxers and I was proven correct when his leaking tip pressed into my folds. I whimpered at the feel of his head running through the expanse of my pussy, pre-cum mixing with my arousal, the natural lubricant preparing him for his entrance.

He leans over me, his chest slick with sweat as his lips come beside my ear, pressing kisses to my shoulder. “You going to be good?” He hums and I nod with a whine. Shadows twine around my wrists, bounding them down onto the bed forcefully. “Three taps if it’s too much alright?” He says and I nod, closing my eyes in a slow blink, mentally preparing myself as he aligns his cock to my slit.

Slowly, he pushes himself in and I take every inch with a never-ending stream of euphoria. His movements started slow but he was right, he couldn’t control himself and his thrusts quickly turned impossible to keep up with.

A moan tore from my throat as he finally managed to stuff himself completely inside of me, his balls slapping against my sopping folds, the arousal dripping down my purple-marked thighs. “Az,” I mewl, throwing my head back as he continues his relentless pace, his thrusts rough and hungry and everything I had ever craved.

“M’yours, I’m all yours,” I sighed, eyes fluttering shut at the intense feeling of him nestled so deep inside of me. “That’s right, my perfect slut to ruin,” He grunts and my back bows into his chest at the words, making him hit me deeper. He curses and goes so much faster at the new angle, every other drive into me left a soft whimper slipping from his throat, his noises so quiet yet so close to my ear and allowing me to hear just how much I was affecting him.

I clamped down on his thick length, slowly grinding my hips down onto his, gradually growing quicker and meeting each of his thrusts.

If I thought he was savage on the training mats then he must’ve been untamable when pummeling every inch of him into my puffy pussy that pulsed at each movement.

“Gods, Azriel,” I scream his name, his pace relentless as my mind loses thought, becoming incoherent to anything but the way he shoved himself into me, past that bundle of nerves and kissing up against my cervix. A ring of my arousal formed on the base of his cock. “That’s it, fuck, that’s a good girl,” He sighs, his breath fanning over the shell of my ear and making me squeeze around him, needy for more.

He loves the visual of me splayed out for him, swallowing his cock, hips clapping against mine each time he rams into me with an unmatched force, each of them landing perfectly on the tip of him grinding against the most sensitive part of me as I convulsed, my legs spreading wider as I sink lower, making his thrusts faster, harder. Tears roll down my cheeks as I continue to take it, taking all of him without hesitation. “Your perfect fucking pussy is so— fuck s’gripping me so tight,” He grinds out and I know from the underlying whine of his voice that he’s close, and thank gods for it cause I doubted I’d last another moment with my sanity.

“Az, please, please,” I cry, unable to say anything else as he continues to hit home every, single, time. “So full, Az,” I murmur, my head heavy with lust as he fucks me senseless. “Yeah? All you can think about is my cock, isn’t that right?” He purrs beside my ear and I nod fervently, agreeing to whatever he wants me to do, I just needed more.

Shadows listen to my silent request and brush down my stomach teasingly, feeling the way Azriel pumped into me so deep you could see him in my abdomen, the silky darkness curling downward and coming to my clit, making me gasp in ecstasy.

His fingers join his shadows, scooping through my folds and gathering my arousal before smearing it along my clit and then rubbing it harshly in tight little circles that left me defenseless. My entire body obeyed his touch as his ministrations continued. “Fuck, need to come Az, please,” I whine, feeling that coil tighten until it was bordering on snapping. “Come for me, wanna see you milk my cock,” He nips at my shoulder and thrusts forcefully inside of me, his head ramming into my cervix so very close to my womb, his fingers dig into my clit rougher, his calloused fingers providing so much more friction. Saliva pools in my mouth as my orgasm crests and I finally feel that immense relief I’ve been craving all morning. “I’m coming, m’comin—” I was cut off by a lewd moan, rapture surging up and down my body as I gush around his cock, white-hot pleasure consuming me.

I lay beneath him as I slowly come down from my climax but his movements don’t cease as I jolted in over stimulation, his shadows eased off my clit allowing relief but my pussy wasn’t given the same treatment, he continued to bury himself inside of me, harder, faster, deeper.

I whine, not daring to reject him like his perfect doll, clenching at the sheets as he ruts into my aching cunt. “Fill me up, Az, want your cum so bad,” I whimper and he smiles against my neck. “Yeah? Want me to fill this pussy up ‘til it’s leaking out? Stuff you full?” He asks and I mewl, lewd sounds rolling off my tongue without permission.

“Mhm,” I nod, writhing against the sheets at the intense feeling. I clench hard around him and he twitched, letting out a low grunt and without another warning, his warm seed released and spurted from his cock, into my cunt. He moaned, his sounds equally arousing as his movements inside of me. “You’re a fuckin’ angel, baby,” He pants, hands roaming along my waist as he slowly pulls himself from my slit, a whimper leaving my throat at the emptiness he left me with. He stares down at the apex of my thighs, where his cum seeped out of me, mixing with mine.

I flip onto my back and stare up at him panting with a drunken smile, my pussy throbbing as I come down from that stimulation.

I tremble as his fingers brush up my inner thighs, gathering any liquid that escaped me and then pushing them back into my cunt with ease. I gasped, my back arching, it was too much, it was all too much. And I loved every moment of it.

He lazily fingered my pussy, his languid movements making me babble in protest. “I know baby but we can’t let any of this go to waste, can we?” He hums and I shake my head no with a pout. “That’s right, m’ gonna fuck you all day, make you feel so good,” He said and my body tremors at the promise of his voice, and I knew immediately walking would be impossible tomorrow.

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[wifeyoozi]

Kim Mingyu : Best Friend Rule 57

w.c : 1.6 k ┊ synopsis : the 57th rule of the bestfriend rule book states, "thou must giveth a head to thy bestie in the time of need." ┊ content warning : smut ,, best friends to ...?? ,, blowjobs ,, gn!reader ,, coming down the throat

a/n : mdni !! not completely beta read. This is just me being horny af for mingyu recently.

This is fine, Mingyu thinks. He has shared rooms before. He has shared rooms with you before as well – with his best friend and, for a long while now, his crush. He could do this. He forces his focus on the sappy rom-com movie playing on the cable TV in the hotel room from the fact that you are pressed closed against him on the hotel bed, sharing packet popcorn with him. You are mostly eating it, he's barely even watching the movie.

Some time ago after you settled on the bed beside him, you'd huddled over to him, “Gyu, scoot over. The TV is kinda weird, I can't see properly unless I'm looking right from the centre,” You said as you snuggled against him.

Snuggled against him, until you were pressing your bare thighs to his clothed ones and your arms pressed up till there was a thin sweaty layer in between, your head resting on his shoulder.

He tried to change his position a little, gripping on the comforter tighter around his waist, just hoping you wouldn't notice his, well, little developing problem in his sweatpants.

The movie ended too soon after that and you sighed, “fun movie to waste a Saturday on, no?”

Mingyu hums, about to suggest another movie, because he's a sucker in love who'd spend two more hours suffering in silence in his pants to spend some quality time with his crush.

Instead, you opened your phone screen, reading a text, “uh, the team is doing a campfire night, you wanna join? They brought beer and all.”

“Uhm, no I'll pass tonight. A little tired,” Mingyu said with a smile as you stood up and yawned, stretching your limbs a little. The last thing he wants is to take his little problem outside this room to the rest of the coed basketball team. He'd never heard the end of it from soonyoung, and the thought alone makes him wanna die already.

He watched as you stretched your arms, your shirt sticking tight to your chest, your nipples pebbled under prominently visible. He has never looked away faster. Were you not wearing anything under that flimsy shirt? Were you planning to go to the rest of the team like that? The thought simultaneously made mingyu jealous and turned on and he tried not to let either show up on his face.

“Alright, suit yourself! Don't miss me too much,” you said, winking playfully as you walked outside the room, closing the door behind you.

Mingyu let out a big breath he didn't know he had been holding. He shakes his head before getting up and leaving to the bathroom briefly to get the box of tissues papers. He didn't have lube – of course he wouldn't bring one to his college’s basketball team picnic – so his spit would have to do.

He sighed, taking his aching dick out finally. It's not his ideal style. The bedsheet is scratchy and cold and the headboard hits his head at an awkward angle, but he shifts himself till he's fairy comfortable.

He pulls his shirt to his armpits, fingers of his one hand brushing over his nipple as he spits over his other hand and takes his dick. He gives himself a few lazy strokes, trying to bring his dick to a full erection. He glanced over to where you say beside him, impulsively grabbing your pillow and putting it against his face. Just as he imagined, your perfume lingered on the fabric of it.

He wasn't in a hurry, he knew you would take time if you were going to drink with the boys. He had plenty time.

He thought of you as he stroked himself sensually, occasionally reaching up and flicking and pinching his nipples. He feels intoxicated by your scent in him. He tugs off his boxers till it's pooled around his ankles. He slowly increases his speed, his thumb pressing over the tip where the precum leaked.

He was getting closer to his releasing, your name softly leaving his lips in whimpering whispers.

He heard the door open. Shit.

He has the exact time to either pull down his shirt or pull up his pants before you'd be face to face with him.

Not being able to think properly with his fogged mind, he chose to pull down his shirt instead, leaving his fisted cock out in the open for you to see when you entered.

Your eyes widened, a brown bag in your hand, “i, uhm, thought that, uhm, I'd get us some take out.”

You're flustered, but not as much as him. He is completely frozen, his hand doing little to hide anything about the size or hardness of his cock.

“I-i uhm,”

“That's okay!” You rushed in to say, “I, uhm, I'm your age too! People have, err, urges! That's completely normal, y’know.”

Mingyu is strongly aware of your gaze over his penis as you keep the bag of take out on the floor and climb on the bed beside him. He retreats back of shyness, bringing his knees closer to conceal himself a little.

“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath, “uhm, y/n-”

“Shit, you're, like, so big, mingyu,” you chuckle breathily, pushing his knee away. Mingyu would almost think that it was yet one of his sick fantasies, except it wasn't. Mingyu was aware and proud of his well endowed body, but he never knew the things it would do to him hearing it from you. Suddenly mingyu didn't know what words were.

“Should I help you?” you ask him as if you were offering coffee, “friends help each other, right?”

Friends help each other. Friends help each other with a fucking erections.

“Y/n,” mingyu shudders as your finger gently hovers over his red angry tip. He'd meant to say, don't say stuff you don't mean or will regret later. Instead, the words that slip his tongue are, “don't tease.”

You chuckle slightly, “okay, gyu, I won't,” taking a firm grip of his cock above his own fist. A breathy moan leaves his lips. You meet his eyes once, staring deep before looking back at his dick, “gyu, do you think I can fit your dick in my mouth?”

And that is how kim mingyu (born 1997, sex male) died at the tender age of 21. The team would have to carry his body tomorrow. His tomb stone would say, died of blowjob offers. Mingyu thinks – nevermind, Mingyu can't think anymore. His brain is fogged up with the thought of your pretty pink lips around his cock. Fuck.

“You can try,” he mutters softly. He takes his hand off his dick, allowing you full access. You pushed your hair back and wrapped your soft lips around his head. No foreplay, no kitten licks, no jerking him off. You took him in his mouth directly, pushing your head down till you felt his dick filling up your mouth.

You sucked on the length in your mouth, wrapping your hand the remainder of what you couldn't fit in your mouth. Mingyu groaned, his hands grippinng the sheets tightly. Your mouth was hot and warm and wet. So fucking wet. Your technique is a bit sloppy, but mingyu loves it nonetheless. He'd love anything with you and his dick in a single picture.

You take out his dick from your mouth, looking up at him with red lips and flushed face. Fuck, are you pretty.

“Shit, I didn't know it was this hard,” you say, chuckling, “sucking a dick, I mean. You are as hard as it can be.”

“You've… never given a blowjob before?”

“No, why would I?” It was a dumb question on his end, dumber on yours. Neither of you was thinking straight about it though, so it's fine.

“friends can help each other,” he thoughtlessly echoed your words.

“Well, not any friend,” you chuckled. “You're my best friend, gyu!”

Mingyu momentarily wondered if you were even hearing yourself. It felt like a unspoken bestie rule mingyu was unaware about till now, that you must give your best friend a head in time of need. Because you seemed so serious like this was a normal best-friends activity to do, casually sucking their dick.

“Can you shift here? The angle is awkward like this, I think I can take it better if I kneel in front of you,” you tell him, motioning towards the end of the bed. He nods without even bothering to think, shifting at the edge of the bed till his legs hungoff the bed. You shifted on the floor, in between his legs. You looked up at him, taking his leaking erection in your hand and placing it in your mouth.

You forced your gag reflexes to relax and took him as deep in your throat as you could, till your nose was buried in his pubic hair. You sucked him off genuinely, eyes staring deep into his the whole time. He held your hair back, guiding your head to bob up and down on him. He threw his head back, moaning shamelessly despite being aware of the cheap hotel walls as he recieved what felt like one of the best blowjobs he's ever had.

It didn't take long for him to cum spilling down your throat.

“Shit, I'm sorry,” he took out his dick as you choked on his cum, the remainder of it spurting on your lips and cheeks. You coughed a little but swallowed his cum. Mingyu looked at you with wide eyes, realising what you did.

You grab a tissue paper from the bedside table and wipe your mouth. You flash him a smile, “I'll take a quick shower and then we could continue watching another movies while eating the take outs. Why don't you pick this time?”

“Aren't you going for the drinks by the bonfire with the rest of the team?” Mingyu asks dumbly.

“Nahh, I'll pass. Soonyoung and Chan always end up getting super drunk, causing a mess,” you say, getting up to head to the shower.

If Mingyu saw a super wet spot in your shorts and that made his dick twitch, it's nobody's business.

Though he would be down to give you a head if you needed it after your shower. Isn't that what the besties do after all!

#svt #seventeen #svt smut #svt x reader #mingyu #kim mingyu #svt mingyu #mingyu x reader #mingyu x you #mingyu smut #mingyu imagines #best friend mingyu #just filthy mingyu smut #seventeen smut #seventeen x reader

[polyo-nym-y]

The Pushy Demon, a Drabble.

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Alastor x Female!Reader

[WARNINGS: Al fucks you in the elevator, you’re stubborn and put up a fight despite liking him, rough fuck, manhandling, dubcon??reader says stop but doesn’t really mean it, p in v sex etc etc MDNI!!!NSFW!!!!]

This is unedited so be warned !

I am once again posting a discord inspired prompt. This is for you guys ;3 I hope you enjoy it.

————————————————————

Initially, you thought the Hazbin Hotel was God's last gift to you. You thought he might’ve taken pity on your poor sinful soul. That hopeful thinking died quickly on your very first day there.

Because this was Hell after all and every sinner was doomed to live eternity in agony. And agony is exactly how you’d describe your current situation.

It has been months now that you’ve suffered Alastors attacks. Since day one he seemed to target you as he actively sought you out. He relished every reaction he coaxed out of you with every tease and jab.

But it wasn’t his teasing that actually brought you agony. No, rather so it was the realization that you had grown quite fond of it. You used to groan at his jests and feel nothing but annoyance. But now? Now you felt a blush rising to your cheeks. His mere presence now seemed to wash waves of burning heat over you. You’d sooner double die than give him the satisfaction in knowing your fondness for him, though.

For a while this task was easy as the extermination date drew closer and closer. Alastor kept himself busy and a part of you felt upset that he wasn't making any effort to chase you. You felt like a silly child when your disappointment morphed into jealousy, eyes watching him pour his focus onto others. You knew it was ridiculous to feel envy as he showed more attention to the hotel. Which is exactly why you made an effort to avoid him completely now.

Alastor was perceptive, however, and your obvious avoidance didn't go unnoticed. At first he was amused by it as he watched you hurriedly run from him any time you saw him. But the game was getting old and he was growing bored. So when he heard from Charlie that you weren't feeling well and wouldn't be attending today's lesson, he was more than annoyed.

He sat in the foyer amongst the other residents, his eyes staring at Charlie and Vaggie. He pretended to listen as his talons tapped the arm of the chair rhythmically. He unfortunately found his mind wandering to you as he tuned out the lesson. Knowing well that you were not sick and that this was going to end tonight.

His ears twitched as he heard a faint shuffle across the lobby. His eyes didnt leave Charlie as his shadow looked for him. When he saw you peeking around a corner he had to fight the laugh that wanted to slip out. How cute.

You watched from a distance as they all attended that day's lesson. Your eyes lingered over Alastor as that stupid envy bubbled back up within you, upset that his eyes weren't on you. Disgusted with yourself you quickly turned on your heels and began walking back towards the elevator.

You didnt hear the lesson suddenly stop nor did you hear Alastor curtly excuse himself. You did however hear the familiar clacking of shoes trailing behind you. Instinctively you quickened your strides as you stared at the Elevator door just ahead of you. Surely it wasn't him, you thought, he didn't see you right?

You got your answer when you glanced over your shoulder. Alastors tall figure radiated annoyance as his long legs closed the distance at a terrifying rate. Without even thinking you broke into a sprint as you rushed forward. Your hands fighting against the metal lattice door as it got jammed. But once you finally opened it you stumbled into the brightly lit elevator, hands quickly trying to shove the still jammed door closed. A large black hand shot out as it stopped the cage door from closing, his dark gaze peering through the bars down at you.

“Going up? How perfect! So am I!” His smile widened as his eyes trailed down your throat, watching you swallow that delicious mix of fear and nervousness. He waited for you to drop your hands from the door before he slammed it open roughly. The act earned a flinch from you as you stepped back into the far corner.

Your arms crossed over your chest as you forced your nerves into annoyance. A glare being sent up to him as he cheerfully stepped inside and closed you both in. “I thought you were supposed to be attending today's lesson.”

“And I thought you were sick.”

“I was feeling better… but now I’m feeling worse.”

He pressed the top floor before glancing to his side, to you. You quirked your brow as you watched him look you up and down. “Hm, you do look terrible.”

Your eye twitched as you watched his shit eating grin grow. You bit back the remark you wanted to give him and chose to instead lean into the corner. Your eyes staring at the ground as you tried to ignore him.

The elevator rattled to life after a delay before it began to ascend. Alastor began to hum as he stepped closer to you. Your hands clutched around yourself tighter as you stepped away but Alastor only followed. With your shoulder now pressed against the cold metal wall Alastor made himself comfortable against your other shoulder. His larger body purposefully pressing against you.

Your heart began to race now that you couldn't stop yourself from thinking about him. Feeling the warmth of his body and the tingling static that hung in the air around him. You were contorting trying to avoid his touch, your face pressing into the wall. Alastors hum grew lower as he cocked his head, his deep gaze watching you carefully. With an annoyed groan you pushed yourself from the wall and away from him, shuffling to stand across from him. “UGH- this has to stop!”.

“You’re right, my dear, this does need to stop.”

“Wha-” Before you could even question what he meant the elevator began to stutter. The lights flickered above you as you reached your hands out trying to steady yourself. Suddenly the elevator came to a screeching halt as the lights went out completely, the only thing visible was Alastors glowing eyes.

A shiver ran down your spine when your eyes met his in the dark, the intense look had you frozen in place. He’d snap his fingers “Tch, looks like the elevator broke, how unfortunate.” A chuckle left him as you watched his eyes draw closer, his heels clicking as he took a single step forward. You sucked in a nervous breath as you stepped back, the metal cage rattling behind you.

“Alastor..” you warned as he took another slow step forward. “Turn it back on.”

“Turn what back on? You’re not insinuating that I have anything to do with this, are you?” He feigned offense. “I’m stuck in this predicament just as you are.”

You watched his eyes, the only thing you could see, as he continued to step forward. Stumbling, you felt your way along the wall as you side stepped him just before he caged you in. “Alastor, stay away from me-”.

A growl left him as he turned to follow your figure in the dark. “And why should I?” He hesitated for a moment before his grin widened. His eyes slipped closed and suddenly you were completely bathed in darkness. You swallowed nervously as you tried to make out where he was. The elevator creaked and suddenly you felt hot breath ghost against your ear “I know you’ve been avoiding me. But why is that, mon cher?”

Your hand flew out to smack him but you hit nothing but air. His voice now came from behind you as you felt sharp claws trail up your back and over your shoulders. “Missed me~” He'd laugh darkly as you opened your mouth to yell at him. But once again his actions silenced you as his large hands roughly pushed you forward.

Your hands flew out before you fell face first into the elevators wall, the force of your body had the elevator swaying and creaking. “FUCK- you wanna know why Im avoiding you?? Its because im fucking tired of playing your stupid games!”.

His hands were on you before you could turn around, a firm grip finding its way around your wrists. He pressed his chest against you as he pinned your body against the wall. You squirmed frantically as you tried wrenching your hands free but he only tightened his hold on you. Pressing you so harshly the cold metal began to sting your cheek. “Oh, darling, do you take me as a fool?” He dipped his head as he grazed his lips against your hair, inhaling your scent with a sigh. “You think I dont notice the red that blossoms on your cheeks? Or how your heart races- just as it is now.”

You gritted your teeth, still too stubborn to tell the truth. “Thats because your horrifying- a pushy demon who doesnt fucking know personal space!”

An unhinged laugh rumbled through his chest and into you. “You want to pretend its fear? Fine, then fear me. I’ll be that horrific demon for you.” Without another word he pressed his hips against the plushness of your ass, grinding into you slowly.

Your body tensed as you felt your stomach begin to flip. You tried to fight against him once more, your body thrashing against his. “AL-” Your words died in your throat as he kicked your legs apart, wedging his knee between your legs. One hand kept a tight hold on your left hand whilst his right arm snaked around your waist. He tugged you up onto his thigh and pressed his knee against the wall, your toes barely reaching the ground as he forced a pressure between your legs.

“Hm~?” He hummed a reply as his eyes slipped open once more. He felt your legs tremble and tense as you tried to lift up from his leg. His arm around your waist slithered back to settle on your hip as he grinded you down into him. “What is it, dear? You’ve gone awfully quiet. Too scared to speak?”

“S-Stop-” You choked on your words trying to bite back any moans that dared to slip out. As he grinded you against his thigh you felt the slickness that soaked your panties begin to seep onto his pants. Aimlessly you tried to push at him with your free hand. As if wanting to make a show of how weak you were he let your other hand go. Both of your hands now trying to grab at him from behind you.

“I wont. Plead all you want. I wont stop.” His left hand snaked under your shirt as he tore your bra to allow your breasts to spill out. Sharp talons scratched along sensitive flesh as he pinched and toyed with your hardening nipple. His hand at your hip stopped as it dipped under your waist band. Reaching to slide his fingers between your soaked lips just to bring them back out. “Especially not when you're this wet already.” He made a show of rubbing your fluids across your lips, knowing well you couldn't see how his fingers glistened in the dark. His talons wedged past your lips as he tried to pry your mouth open. When you refused he settled his mouth over the shell of your ear and gave it a bite. His fingers darted in as soon as you gasped, pressing against your tongue ensuring you thoroughly tasted yourself.

Your head began to grow foggy as you felt yourself beginning to relax into the pressure of his thigh. Hips twitching, desperately wanting that friction again. Instead, you bit down onto the fingers that invaded your mouth. A sharp hiss left Alastor as he fish hooked your cheek, yanking you back into his chest. His other hand came to wrap around your throat as he gave a warning squeeze. “HA! You want this to hurt, don't you?”

He continued yanking you back until your neck was craned, forcing you to look up into his glowing eyes. The dark amusement that swam in his red gaze sent a shock wave straight to your core as your thighs tightened around his. Despite every fiber of you screaming to submit, you refused. Your mouth struggling to suction closed with his fingers in your cheek. You tried to muster as much spit as you could as you sputtered up at him, messily spitting up at him and onto your own face.

He didn't say a word as his only reaction was his twitching eye. Slowly he took a deep breath before he removed his fingers from your mouth, knee suddenly slipping out from under you. “You are the most pathetically stubborn thing I have ever met.” With his hold on your throat still he threw you onto the ground like a ragdoll.

You winced at the impact before quickly trying to crawl away from him. “Wh- wait-AH-” his hand wrapped around your ankle and dragged you back to him as he settled on his knees. You held your breath as you stared into his eyes like a moth to a lamp, the sound of his zipper deafening in the small space. You felt him settle between your legs as his hands tore your underwear apart. “Al, wait-” when you tried to sit up his palm pushed you back down by your head as his fingers dug into your cheeks.

“You never listen do you, Mon cher?” he’d purr with a sweet tone that didnt match his rough hands. “You said it yourself. I'm a horrifying pushy demon who knows nothing about personal space, right?” you felt his swollen head swipe up between your lips before he quickly snapped his hips into you. You choked and gasped at the sudden intrusion as he bottomed out in one thrust. His cock twitched inside of you as your cunt fluttered around him. “To think I’m dizzy for a dame like you.” A forced laugh left him before he was pushing your legs open wider.

He was suddenly thrusting into you at a brutal pace as his hands gripped and clawed at your flesh. A desperate mewl left your throat as all of your fight left you, your shaking hips trying to push into each thrust. “A-Alastor- f-fuck-” you moaned out mumbled words. His hands settle on your hips to hold you still.

“Mm-mhm? Are you going to be honest now?” when your hips still tried to fight against him he pulled from you. Your limp body being flipped onto your stomach quickly before he buried himself back into you. One hand kept your hips up whilst his other tangled into your hair, pressing your face down to force your back into an arch.

You could only cry and moan into the floor as your spit pooled below you. Legs shaking as he fucked into your cunt like his afterlife depended on. Each thrust had his heavy balls smacking against your clit, a jolt of electricity sent through you each time as you felt that coil tighten quickly. You tried to nod but his hand against your head made it difficult, but you couldnt manage a real response right now. “Ah-h, theres my good fucking girl.” He’d coo down to you between pants. You swore if honesty was the cost for this? Youd never utter a lie ever again.

His claws dug into your flesh as he rutted into you. The burning pain mixed with your quickly approaching release and you felt like youd die again. Your shaky hand tried to cover your mouth to stifle the erotic sounds you were making. The elevator creaked with every deep thrust, his own movements getting sloppy as he felt you tightly clenching around him.

The lights began to flicker to life just as you began to reach your peak, eyes squeezing shut at the sudden brightness. His hand in your hair yanked your head up from the floor as you felt the elevator stutter before suddenly descending. You felt fear prickle every nerve as a scream ripped from your throat at the feeling of falling rapidly. Your orgasm didnt stop though as your fearful scream turned into a raspy moan, your cunt twitching around Als cock as he buried himself deep into you. A groan leaving him as he reached his own release, his seed spilling into you as he grinded it in deeper.

With a jolt the elevator stopped its sudden descent as the light fully turned on. The small space fell silent as he released his hold on you. Before he could even pull out his head snapped towards the lattice door.

A very shocked and disgusted Husk stood in front of the elevator door. Angel peaked over with a surprised grin. “Holy shit it reeks of sex. No fuckin’ way you and smiles just banged in the elevator!”

All you could do was groan into the ground.

————————————————————

*Dizzy with a dame: 1920s slang ‘to be deeply in love with a woman’.

#alastor #alastor the radio demon #hazbin hotel #alastor x you #the radio demon #alastor x reader smut #alastor x reader #alastor smut #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel smut

[katiexpunk]

Scarlet Haze - Part 2

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!Reader | W/C: ~6.2K | Rating: 18+ Minors DNI

Series Summary: Life in the QZ was fairly predictable. That was, until Joel Miller showed up on your doorstep covered in blood. Since then, you've helped him more times than you can count. Now it's his turn to return the favor.

Series Warnings: SEX POLLEN. SEX POLLEN. SEX POLLEN. Set in the TLOU universe in the Boston QZ. Buckle the fuck up for a lot of filthy, feral smut. Check chapter warnings for specifics. This series will follow them through current day.

Chapter Warnings: Canon-typical violence. Blood. Sexual tension. Bloody knuckles/wounded Joel. Flirting. Alcohol. Male masturbation. Voyeurism. Pearl Jam. Drug-seeking behavior. Medical references. Crying. Hallucinations similar to a drug high. Euphoria. Damsel in distress trope. Pet names. Praise kink. Begging. Unprotected P in V. Oral (female receiving). Fingering. Use of daddy. Age gap (make it your own!). No use of Y/N. Reader has no physical descriptions. Let me know if I missed anything!

A/N: Surprise! It's here early (probably the only time you'll be glad something came early). Part 2 as part of my contribution to @morallyinept's Flora and Fauna Challenge. Part 3 coming 5/19.

Part 1 | Masterlist | Read on AO3 | Notifications

“And in that moment, I swear we were infinite.” ― Stephen Chbosky

Joel Miller is a bad man. 

It wasn’t always this way – there was a time when he thought he was good, kind even, a gentleman through and through, just like his momma raised him to be. 

But those days are long gone. Nowadays, the things he does are far from decent.

What he’s doing right now tops the list.

He should avoid it. He knows he should. 

Whatever this feeling is, it’s entirely alien to him—like a cocktail of a thousand potent drugs coursing through his veins, igniting an instinctive physical response. His heart pounds furiously, and a searing heat prickles his skin. He feels lightheaded, probably from the blood rushing anywhere and everywhere except for his brain. 

He tries to reason with himself that he can wait— he should wait. Wait for you to wake up, do your typical doctor business, pull out a magic pill or some bullshit, and you’ll both be well on your way. 

He should wait. A good man would wait. 

But then you started whimpering. 

Fucking whimpering. 

It was soft, just a whisper; he almost second-guessed it, but then you said his name clear as day, drawing him closer to the edge of control.

“Joel, please,” you moan, spread out on the dusty sheets, lost in a daydream he wishes he was part of, totally unaware of your actions.

He palms himself through his denim, hips titled forward as he sits on a wood chair that he’s not all too convinced can bear his weight after years of abandonment, but he could give two shits about that right now. 

“Yes, oh god, yes, just like that,” you moan again, your hand inching closer to your center, chasing friction of any kind. He wonders if you’re wet right now, how sweet you must taste. 

Fuck it. 

If he's destined for hell, he might as well make it worth the trip.

He unhooks his belt and yanks down his zipper, forcefully pulling his pants down to bunch around the muscular expanse of his thighs

Heavy cock in hand, he takes a second to admire it. It’s a fat, healthy one with a little curve to the left and a prominent vein running up the side. He’s a blessed man – in this regard, anyway. 

He rises to full attention, and his hand rises with it, thick, strong fingers just about meeting his thumb as they curl around him. He savors the first proper stroke, the shift from teasing to relief. 

He’s so fucking hard. He’s not sure he’s ever been this hard. 

His skin feels like velvet wrapped around steel. Even at the end of the world, hell, even before it, he’s not sure touching himself has ever felt like this. 

As the edges of his vision begin to soften and blur, he focuses on you. He empties his mind into thoughts of you and only you – how good you’d feel, your tight cunt wrapped around him, creaming on him as you chant his name like a prayer. 

Fuck.

His head falls back to lean against the wall, eyes tightly shut, his hand still working as he conjures up images of you bent over for him as he watches his cock slide in and out of your wet heat. 

It feels like his whole system has been turned on, his body flooded with adrenaline, the frantic thud of his pulse in his ears now palpable against his palm, too.

Just then, you blink open your eyes, and the remnants of your daydream evaporate like a mist in the morning sun. For a moment, you’re unsure where you are, the room spinning gently in your haze. 

The last thing you remember is being in the flower field with him, and now you’re on a bed that hasn’t seen a warm body in over a decade. How did he? 

You drop the thought when you feel the air, thick with a heavy, sweet scent that tugs at the edges of your consciousness. You feel hot, every nerve ending tingling uncomfortably. Breathing feels difficult, each breath deep and labored. It’s as if your lungs are struggling under a heavy weight, a need you can’t quite pinpoint. 

Your gaze slowly shifts from the ceiling to the corner of the room, and that's when you spot him. 

Sunlight streams through the grime-streaked windows, casting beams that light up the swirling dust in the air. As your eyes adjust, the details come into sharp focus, cutting through the haze in your mind like a knife. 

Oh. He’s — 

 You must still be dreaming; you must. There’s no way this is happening. 

Your stomach flutters and flips, enough physical proof that you see what you think you do.

You take a moment to admire him, his cock, the glistening precum that’s gathered at the tip of it, the soft groans coming from his chest. The way his thick neck is angeled back perfectly presents his Adam's apple and the nape of his throat. 

You adjust to prop yourself up slightly. 

"Joel," you coo, his name dripping from your lips like nectar from a flower. 

He pauses at the sound of your voice, and time suspends for a moment. If he weren’t so fucked out, he might think to stop what he’s doing, might even feel embarrassed that he was caught. 

But right now, part of him wants you to watch. When he tilts his head up, you’re staring at him with a look he can’t quite place, but holy fuck, you’re beautiful. 

Seeing your own lust-filled eyes, knowing you're watching what he’s doing to himself, consumes him. 

“See what you do to me,” he groans, holding your stare as he fucks his fist, jaw slack and balls tight. 

It’s so intense. He’s intense. 

“Wanna see you,” he rasps, and you’re more than happy to oblige.

You work to undo the buttons of your jeans, desperate to touch yourself – dazed and dizzy. 

You haven’t even touched him and you’re already cock drunk, tipsy with the need to touch him. You can’t stop it, not even if you tried. It feels like this moment was always meant to happen, and everything in life—the good and the bad — has led up to it. 

Feeling a sudden surge of boldness, you stand to walk over to him, but the floor rushes up unexpectedly. As gravity claims you, a different kind of pull—a magnetic force you've felt since the night you met him—lingers in your mind. 

You think you hear him call your name as the ceiling swirls into shades of red, patterns like a kaleidoscope painted behind your lids, and you’re living that night again before you can be sure. 

++++

Boston QZ, Fall 2022

The bar's dim lights hardly penetrate the thick air and despair that seems to stick to everything inside the QZ. You shove open the heavy metal door and step inside. The noise—a mix of wood chairs scraping against the ground and low conversations—briefly spikes before settling as the door thuds shut behind you. 

It's been a long, tough shift at the clinic, leaving you feeling bone tired.

The bar—if you can even call it that—has a worn appeal. As your eyes get used to the dimness, you head straight for the counter. 

The bartender, a middle-aged guy with a scar trailing down his cheek like a tear track, gives you a quick nod in greeting. “Hey, Tom,” you greet him with a tired smile. “I’ll have a chardonnay.”

Tom chuckles, wiping down a glass with a rag that has seen better days. 

“Doc,” he nods. “Best I can do is beer. Got a fresh batch that’s more hops than rust this time.”

“Sold,” you laugh, settling onto a stool and pushing him one of your ration cards. “Make it a cold one, if you can remember what cold feels like.”

Your eyes drift across the bar as Tom turns to fetch your drink. That’s when you notice him—a rugged man nursing a beer, his presence almost as worn as the leather jacket hugging his broad shoulders. 

His knuckles are raw, the skin split, and a dark bruise blooms around his left eye. It’s an impressive shiner that catches your attention more than it probably should.

You lean slightly on the bar, the wood cool under your arms, and a half-smile forms on your lips when you catch his eye. “You really should have someone check that out,” you say, nodding toward his hand, the flirtation in your voice unmistakable.

His eyes assess you momentarily, weighing your words, maybe even your presence here talking to him.

He curls his right hand into a fist, the skin tight and pale over the knuckles. “This?” His voice, rough as gravel, carries a hint of nonchalance. “It’ll heal eventually.” As he speaks, his words stretch out with a slow Southern drawl, wrapped in a weariness you can almost touch.

“Must have been quite the fight,” you remark, accepting the beer Tom slides in front of you. “Or a really stubborn door.” 

A trace of a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. 

“Something like that.”

“You know,” you continue, sipping the beer and finding it surprisingly not terrible, “I’m pretty good with stitches and less good with doors. If you ever need a hand…”

His dark eyes flick back to you, pausing on your lips, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

You sip your drink, the corners of your lips twitching upward slightly. Turning to face him fully, you let your eyes roam over his features, openly appreciating the chisel of his jaw and the facial hair that covers it. He’s handsome. 

He doesn’t ask for your name, but the silence feels like an invitation. Leaning a bit closer, you raise an eyebrow playfully. "And you are?" your voice lilts at the end, lingering on the anticipation.

"Joel Miller," he says, his voice a deep rumble that cuts through the bar noise. His handshake is firm but careful as if he's mindful not to hurt despite the roughness of his hands.

"Joel Miller—I like that," you reply, holding his gaze a little longer than necessary, your hand still clasped in his. You gently turn his hand to inspect the battered knuckles, not having to work hard to imagine the sting you know he feels.

A shout from across the bar catches your attention; your friends are waving you over. You turn towards them, but he continues to look at you. When you turn back to him, he drops your hand quickly, almost like you burned him.

"Well, Joel Miller, I guess I'll see you around," you say with a hint of promise.

He nods, “Maybe so.” 

As you walk away, you feel his thoughtful, dark, and hungry eyes still fixed on you. 

The intensity of his stare sends a shiver down your spine as you move toward the laughter and warmth of your friends waiting at a table near the back.

You feel the pull of curiosity that makes you want to look back, but you don’t. 

++++

Later that week, you’re pulling a late night at the clinic. 

"Fuck," you moan, bringing your hands to your temples and rubbing them slightly. You're exhausted. When are you not?

You don't have a clock in the clinic, but you know it's probably close to curfew. Every cell in your body tells you to go home, but you ignore it. At least you have the peeling paint and the constant drip from a leaky faucet to keep you company.

You’re restocking a shelf in the lobby when the front door slams open violently. A man staggers in, his eyes bloodshot, clothes tattered, and reeking of what you don’t even want to know. You straighten up and quickly reach into your coat pocket, your grip finding a scalpel from earlier. Using your thumb, you work to remove the cap and position it between your fingers should you need to use it.

"I need some meds," he growls, slamming his fists down on the reception desk. "The strong stuff, now!"

"Sir, I need you to calm down," you say, trying to keep your voice even despite the adrenaline surge. "I can help, but first, you need to tell me what's wrong."

"Listen here you little bitch, I don’t need advice; I need fucking pills!" he bellows, his voice echoing off the walls. Suddenly, he lunges over the counter, grabbing your arm with a firm grip. 

You struggle to pull away, but he’s too strong. You try your scalpel, but he slaps it away. Panic spikes as he twists your arm behind your back and slams you against the counter. Pain shoots through your shoulder, sharp and blinding.

Just then, the door to the clinic bursts open with a force that makes the entire room shake. You barely have time to register the figure rushing in, his movements fast and determined.

And then you see him. 

Joel Miller. 

His expression is set in a hard line, eyes pinpointing the man pinning you down. Without a word, he grabs the man by the collar and yanks him away from you. The man flails, trying to swing at Joel, but he’s too quick, too angry. He lands a solid punch to the man's jaw, sending him reeling backward into one of the shelves. 

"You okay?" he asks, turning to you with concern etched on his face. His hands are still clenched into fists.

Breathing heavily, you nod, rubbing your bruised arm. The pain is sharp, and you know you'll be feeling it tomorrow, but you’re relieved to be free from the man's grasp. 

"I think so?" you manage to say, trying to steady your voice as you back away from the counter to put some distance between yourself and the now-groaning figure on the floor.

Joel’s eyes find the man as he slowly picks himself up, giving him a warning glare that promises more if he tries anything again. "Come in here again, and I’ll make sure a broken jaw is the least of your worries," he threatens. Is he always this intense? The man, clutching his jaw and mumbling curses, stumbles out of the clinic.

Once gone, Joel turns back to you, his expression softening. "Let me look at your arm," he says, gently taking it in his hands, his touch careful as he examines the bruising.

“Playing doctor today, are we?" you tease with a smirk.

Joel's chuckle rumbles low and warm, melting some of the tension from your shoulders.

"I'm not, but you could've fooled me," he replies, his touch light as he examines your arm. His eyes hold a soft concern that seems at odds with his typically rugged exterior. 

“Didn’t know you were a doctor.” 

"Do a lot of women at the bar tell you they’re good at giving stitches?" you quip, watching his reaction.

“Alright, smartass, point taken," he teases, releasing your arm. You gently massage the sore skin.

"How did you know I was in trouble?" 

Joel leans against the counter, his brow set as he watches you rub your arm. 

"Let's just say I've got good instincts.”

"Instincts, huh?" You say, stepping closer. "I suppose next you’ll say that it was just my luck that you happened to wander by when you did?” 

His eyes lock with yours.

"I think you're lucky I came when I did," he agrees, his tone serious now.

"Yeah," you agree, a wave of gratitude washing over you. The clinic is suddenly quiet, and you both look at each other momentarily. Everything suddenly feels heavy.

“Too bad there’s no lottery anymore—I could've used some of that luck earlier,” you joke. Stupid.

Joel shakes his head, eyes still scanning your face, perhaps looking for injuries you hadn't mentioned. 

"Really, you should be more careful," he chides. "It’s not safe to be out here alone this close to curfew."

"I usually manage fine," you assert, trying not to let his concern make you feel like you can't handle your job. "Tonight was just... unexpected."

"Doesn't mean it won't happen again. You should think about having someone here with you during late shifts," Joel suggests, his voice low and insistent.

You consider his words, knowing he's right, but it’s also not like people in the QZ are lining up to care for people who aren’t themselves.

Joel seems to read your mind. "Just promise me you'll be careful," he says, stepping back, giving you space. His eyes still hold that fierce protective glint.

"I promise.”

Joel nods once, satisfied. "Good.”

You give him another small smile and think he sees the thank you behind it. 

He nods again, eyes lingering on you for a moment longer before he turns to leave. As he walks towards the door, you watch him go, feeling a mix of emotions—appreciation, relief, and that same magnetic pull from last night. 

“Joel?” you call out, halting his steps. “You like whiskey?” 

Joel turns, a curious arch lifting his brow as he shifts from his reserved demeanor. 

"Yeah, I like whiskey," he replies. "Why, you offering?"

A playful smile dances on your lips.

"Maybe I am," you say, considering for a moment. "How about a thank-you drink? My place isn't far."

For a moment, Joel just looks at you, assessing. 

"Lead the way, Doc,” he says, his voice carrying a warmth you haven’t heard before.

++++ 

You unlock the door to your unit, stepping aside to let him in. "Make yourself comfortable," you say, gesturing vaguely towards the living room. Joel nods and walks through the threshold. As he passes, you notice that he smells slightly sweet and smoky, with a rich, woody undertone. 

He takes a seat on the worn couch that’s a carry over from the 80’s, it creaks under his weight. He settles back, his knees spreading wide, and makes himself at home.

Heading into the kitchen, you rummage through the cabinets before finding an old bottle of whiskey. You don’t own any glasses. 

You call out to Joel, "I hope you don’t mind sharing with me." You unscrew the cap, take a swig directly from the bottle, and feel the warm burn of the alcohol as it slides down your throat.

You cough. “It's not great, but it’s the best I’ve got.”  

Carrying the bottle back to the living room, you pass it to Joel with a playful wink. "Your turn," you say, watching him take his swig with an approving nod. He takes a moment to assess the bottle; not bad for decade-old Tennessee whiskey. 

As he drinks, you walk over to a shelf cluttered with various knickknacks and pull out an old battery-powered CD player. Rifling through the modest stack of CDs you’ve traded more ration cards for than you care to admit, you pull out the one you're after and slide it into the player. 

As the first chords of Pearl Jam's "Alive" reverberate through the room, Joel's head swivels, his eyes lighting up with recognition. "Holy shit. Pearl Jam?" he says, his voice tinged with surprise.

"You know ‘em?" you respond, settling beside him on the couch.

He looks at you with a you’ve got to be serious look.

“Yeah, darlin’, I know ‘em. Pretty sure I was listening to them before you were even born.” 

“Oh please,” you laugh, gently elbowing him in the ribs as you snatch the whiskey bottle back. “I’m not that young.” “Pretty sure I’m old enough to be your daddy,” he looks at you. You’re not sure who moved closer, you or him. You feel the solid warmth of his thigh pressed firmly against yours, sending a spark through you.

You turn and look up at him through your lashes.

“Is that what you want to be?” You feel a little thrill as you watch his pupils dilate, and his jaw tightens. 

You take another swig from the bottle, and his eyes linger on your lips and the shine from the amber liquid on them. “My daddy,” you emphasize the word daddy with a suggestive tone. His hands flex on his thighs. You can tell he’s holding back, trying to maintain composure. He blushes a little; you notice. 

Your words hang in the air. You decide to go easy on him. For now. 

“I’m just fucking with you; that’s not really my thing,” you lie. You take another sip from the bottle, and you feel the alcohol coursing through your veins, your cheeks warming from the combination of the whiskey and his burning gaze. Your muscles feel a little gooey, and your bones feel lighter. 

“All yours, cowboy,” you say, passing him the bottle. His left-hand kitten kisses yours as he grabs it, and even though it was just a brief touch, you still feel it afterward. You bring your free hand to his resting on his thigh. His knuckles have started to heal, but scabs still linger. 

“You gonna tell me how you got this for real this time?” Your fingers gently explore the rough texture of his skin, tracing the prominent veins that stand out beneath. He clenches his hand into a fist, looking at you with an intensity that suggests you don’t want to know. 

"Alright Miller, keep your secrets then," you murmur playfully, leaning in so your side body is pressed against his arm. You gently pluck the bottle from his grasp and set it aside on the table. Sliding onto his lap, you straddle him, your thighs framing his sides.

“Wh – what are you doin’?”

"If you won't tell me, the least you can do is kiss me," you suggest, your fingers weaving through his hair, using it to tilt him up to look at you. His eyes flicker to your lips, and his hand cradles your face as you inch nearer. His thumb brushes softly across your bottom lip, sending a shiver down your spine. His touch wanders, trailing from your neck to your waist, each movement charged with tension.

Suddenly, he shifts, flipping you onto your back with a smooth motion. Your back hits the cushions and a small oof escapes your lungs. Your thighs are still bracketing him. The pressure of his hips against your center makes your insides flutter.

“You’re a needy little thing, arentcha?” 

Mhmm, you moan, cupping his face, trying to pull him closer to you. The hardness you feel pressed up on your hips makes you a little desperate. 

God, you’re perfect, he thinks. So warm and willing, making it so easy for him. 

You’ve been fairly obvious in your flirting with him. He hasn’t been with a woman in a while, but he sure as shit wasn’t born yesterday. A voice in his mind tells him this might be the liquor talking, not you. Or worse, he thinks you might feel like you owe him something for helping you out earlier. 

He wants you, but not like this. 

"I think you're a little drunk, darlin'," he whispers, his voice low and teasing. He leans in, his breath warm against your skin, noses so close they touch. 

“So what if I am?” you giggle. 

“Kiss me, Miller.” His eyes fall to your lips.

You close your eyes, expecting a kiss, but instead, he plants a tender kiss on your forehead.

"I should go," he murmurs, pulling away and standing up. "Get some sleep," he adds, his voice mingling with the music. Before you can reach for him, he's out the door, leaving you wet, tipsy, and confused. 

By the time Joel returned to his unit, the ache in his jeans was almost too much to bear. 

He fucked his hand twice that night, once to the thought of how you felt on top of him, your hips rocking into his, and the other to the thought of what your lips might feel like pressed against his. 

He wanted to kiss you. He wants to kiss you. 

And while his cock might have other thoughts on the matter, he’s never been one to take advantage. Joel knows he’s a bad man, but he’s not bad enough to do that to you. 

He’s done many hard things, but walking away from you at that moment might be near the top of the list. 

++++ 

You feel his fingers on your forearm, gently tracing up and down on the skin there when you open your eyes. He’s sitting on the bed next to you. His voice, a heavy mix of concern and warmth now, steadies your spinning world. You try and sit up. What the actual fuck is happening? Wasn’t he…just?

"Hey, take it easy," Joel murmurs, guiding you gently back against the pillows.

As you settle, the dizzying spin of the room slows, and you're met with Joel's intense stare. He's studying you, his eyes flickering with a mixture of unease and something deeper, something unspoken. 

"You okay?" His voice is a soft murmur, barely rising above the whistle from the broken window across the room.

You nod, but your heart feels like it’s going to pound out of your chest —not just from the disorienting fall, but from the closeness of him. The magnetic pull you've felt since the beginning is more palpable now, impossible to ignore. You blink away the last clouds of your dizziness and focus on him. His shirt clings to him, damp with sweat; his usually neat hair begins to curl at the edges, and there's a tightness in his expression that mirrors the pain you feel.

You’re aching, not in your muscles or bones; no, it’s deeper than that. It's like the pull of a wave threatening to take you under tow. 

"Yeah, just,” you sigh. “Joel, I feel so weird," you manage to say, your voice barely a whisper. “I’m so hot,” you say, and admitting it out loud overwhelms you.

“I know, baby, me too,” Joel responds softly, his hand brushing lightly over your shoulder,

He’s so sweet and tender. The nickname lingers in your mind and plays on a loop. 

Baby. Baby. 

Warmth spreads up from your chest, a burning sensation that lodges behind your ribcage, familiar yet overwhelming. Tears start to prick your eyes, and before you can hold them back, they stream down your face.

You're crying now, not just from the discomfort but from everything—the closeness, the concern in his voice, the way he keeps calling you baby, and the deep ache it all stirs within you.

“Stupid fucking flower,” you say through your tears. 

“What’s that now?” 

“In the field—the flower, the colorful one I showed you. I didn’t know what it was at first, but then I remembered reading about it in a book about herbal remedies.”

“And you think this flower has something to do with what’s wrong with us right now?” he questions. 

“I don’t remember what it’s called, but I remember reading a warning about it –” 

He doesn’t say anything; he just looks at you, patiently waiting for you to finish your thought. 

“The flower,” you sniffle. “Well, the sap and pollen of the flower, I should say, have some strange side effects if ingested or put into the bloodstream…” 

“Go on, baby.” 

There it is again. Baby. 

“It causes extreme arousal, light-headedness, and a shit ton of other things I don’t remember.” 

“Oh. Well, that explains –” 

“Yeah,” you cut him off, already knowing what he wanted to say. You use the back of your hand to wipe away some moisture from your face, but there’s no point; you still feel the tears falling. You close your eyes and try to will the discomfort from your mind. 

“It's okay, darlin'," he murmurs, "I’m here. We'll just let it run its course, alright?" His arms envelop you, drawing you tightly against the solid warmth of his chest. Gently, he cradles the curve of your head in his hand, the rhythm of his heartbeat steady against your ear. You open your eyes, and through your wet vision, you look down and see that he’s still hard. 

“Joel, I –”  his hand floats to the column of your neck, holding you to look at him.

“What do you need, baby?” 

“I need you to fuck me.” 

Shit. No going back now.

“I can’t do that. We’re not in the right state of mind. I don’t want to take advan–” 

“Joel, please,” you say through your tears. 

He looks at you like he’s at war with his mind and body; your desperate doe eyes stare back at him. 

His cock twitches.

He’s been in pain ever since you hit the floor. He couldn’t bring himself to finish after you passed out again. How could he? He was too worried about you. Every fiber of his being was screaming to cum, but the concern he held for you overrode it all. 

“Joel, I’m begging you,” you plead.

“Are you sure?” 

“Yes, yeah—yes. Joel, I need you,” you respond quickly, already moving to drag the unbuttoned jeans off your body. He’s still unmoving, and his body feels like molasses—viscous and sluggish. You’ve rid yourself of your shirt when you command his attention again, “Joel!” 

“Fuck, yeah – okay,” he takes off his shirt, and you help him with his buckle. He undoes his jeans once more while you make quick work of removing your bra and underwear, leaving yourself bare in front of him.

“Lay back, baby, need to taste you.” You do as he says, letting your knees fall to the sides until you’re spread open for him. He comes to his knees on the bed, the mattress groaning under his weight. 

“God damn, darlin’ — could cum just from lookin’ at you like this,” he says, stroking his cock. You thought he was big when you saw him in the corner, but seeing him this close, really seeing him, is another story. 

He collapses onto his stomach between your legs, his breath warm against your skin. Gently, he presses his lips to the tender flesh of your inner thigh, delivering a playful nip that sends a shiver through you.

“Wanna taste you – you have no idea how bad I want to taste you,” he groans as he breathes in your scent, the tip of his aquiline nose bumps against your clit. You’re so keyed up already, a dripping mess for him, your aching clit just begging for a bit of attention. 

He runs a finger through your drenched seam, your juices dripping onto his thick digit. He licks his finger, then shoves it into his mouth so he can taste every drop. He clamps his eyes shut and groans. “So fuckin’ sweet, baby.”

Joel spreads your legs wider, giving him full access to your pussy. He plants a soft kiss on the top of your mound and then gently parts his lips, allowing his tongue to lick through your dripping folds. 

“Please,” You cry, with one hand gripping the worn fabric of the bedspread and one tugging on his messy curls. His beard scratches the sensitive skin of your pussy as you grind your hips into his mouth. 

“I’ll take care of you, baby, don’t worry, ‘m here,” he whispers before returning his attention to you.

Your vision fills with glittering spots while he expertly alternates between flicking his tongue and sucking on your clit. He’s keeping a steady rhythm, on the slower side, you think, but you can’t be sure; your sense of time is fully warped. 

He picks up the pace, your fingers cramping from their death grip on the fabric. You feel your peak approaching. It feels different, like euphoria injected straight into your veins. 

Joel senses your approaching release and pushes one of his thick fingers into your wet heat.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he mumbles against your skin. He picks up his pace and then adds another finger, one your greedy cunt happily accepts. He hooks them slightly so they’re pressing against the spongey spot inside you that you can never seem to reach yourself. 

“Come on, baby. Wanna feel you.”

His eyes flicker up to meet yours, and then tension inside you releases all at once, snaps, and hurtles you into another dimension.

As if the cosmos has poured all its beauty into a single moment, the wave of your orgasm breaks—an explosion of white light, pure and cleansing, sweeping away all that came before, cooling the fire raging inside of you.

Joel works you through it, his fingers keeping a steady rhythm as you come down, coated in a gentle rain of shimmering particles, bathed in a serene and growing peace, and you catch your breath. 

“I’ve–I’ve never felt anything like that,” you pant, “That was amazing.”

“It was pretty pretty to watch, too,” he tells you, rising between your legs. His hand comes to his cock again, holding it by the base. He’s furiously hard, the tip of him drooling, the color of it a deep, rich shade of violet.

“I need you, baby, so fuckin’ bad,” he tells you, voice wrecked. 

You spread your legs open a little wider for him, bringing your hands to your knees, spreading your glistening cunt open for him. 

“She’s all yours,” you coo, and he’s on you. He arranges himself above you, his forearms taking the brunt of his weight, yet the impressive heft of him presses down, enveloping you in his presence. His broadness looms, an expansive canopy; he eclipses your view, and all that exists in this moment is him. You wrap your fingers around his midsection, and he lines the tip of himself up with your wet and waiting hole. 

“You’re mine,” he tells you like it’s a fact, not a statement, as he pushes his hips forward and buries his cock deep inside of you. He pauses, giving you a moment to adjust. There’s a dull sting, but it quickly dissipates as he pulls out of you slowly and then thrusts forward again. The slow drag of his cock against your walls, the tip of it kissing your cervix, sends you into a frenzy. 

“Faster – ah shit, harder –” you moan and he begins to ravage you without mercy, kissing and nipping at the razor edge of your jaw, the tip of your chin. Your moans are muffled against his skin, cries of pleasure that rise in pitch with each thrust forward. 

“Mmm, you’re so warm,” he huffs and moans above you as he fucks away at your tight core. “Feels so good, not gonna last long like this. Tight little pussy’s choking me too good.” 

The familiar, odd sensation washes over you again, that strange mix of feeling both insubstantial and overwhelmingly heavy. It's as if you're simultaneously a feather, drifting weightlessly, and a boulder, rooted deeply and immovably. This feeling lifts and anchors you, leaving you floating between reality and a dreamlike state.

You focus on the feeling of his thrusts.

Back and forth. 

In and out. 

Back and forth. 

In and out. 

You’re drunk off it, off him.  

He snakes his hand behind your body to grab your ass for extra leverage, allowing him to slam into you harder, his hips thrusting against yours. The thatch of dark hair at the base of him rubs up against your swollen clit.  You feel like you’re getting fucked into near unconsciousness, your eyes heavy and half-lidded. 

“Joel,” you moan, your voice barely above a whisper, “I’m so close, oh my god, please.”

Joel’s eyes roll shut as you wrap your arms and legs around him tightly, holding on for dear life as he fucks you like a man possessed.

“That’s it baby, beg for it,” he tells you, and you do.

“Pleasepleaseplease,” you cry out, “Daddy, please.”

“Jesus, fuck,” Joel groans as he feels your walls clamp down on him, your orgasm gripping you like a fever.

“Good fucking girl,” he praises. 

Tears once again stream from your face, this time from pleasure, as he splits you open even more. 

He repositions, bringing your knees to your chest, holding them together with his strong arms as he continues to push in and out of you. 

The tension builds, a gathering storm within him. Every nerve seems to tighten, coil, ready to spring. His world narrows and blurs until there’s only you and the tight feel of your pussy around him. 

“Gonna come,” he tells you, and his thrusts slow.

His breath catches, and he quickly pulls out of you. Then, the release comes— your legs fall to the sides again, and a spray of his cum lands on you, hot thick ropes of it drooling from his cock. 

He’s floored by relief, pleasure radiating through his body. It's like watching the sky split open with light after a storm—vivid, raw, and beautifully clear. 

The aftermath is quiet, a soft descent back into himself, marked by a satisfying stillness. 

He drops to the bed beside you, and you both stare at the ceiling, breathless, nothing but prey ensnared in a web of desire.  He looks at you, his deep brown eyes now soft and satisfied.

“So…Daddy, huh?”

Part 3 - Coming 5/19

A/N Continued: Okay ngl, I am down so bad for these two. If you are, too, I would really appreciate a comment or a reblog. Your feedback and interaction really are so special to me. Tags: @syd-djarin @endlessthxxghts @thereaperisabitch @caramilena @promptly-mercy @alex-does-art-things @swankyorange @ayishahislost @bensonispunk @doblasftcisco @lizlil @pigeonmama @sullyselena @deansimpalagirl @theelectricmind @pedropascalsbbg @laramc-02 @elegantduckturtle @rainbow12346 @senoratess @eff4freddie @auteurdelabre @yxtkiwiyxt @javipispunk @reedrchards @miller-n-morgan @sawymredfox @casa-boiardi @punkshort @pastawench @survivingandenduring @aspecialgreenie @puduvallee @moel-jiller @sheepdogchick3

#joel miller smut #joel miler x fem!reader #joel miller x reader #sex pollen #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller the last of us #pedro pascal character #pedrohub #pedrostories #joel miller #joel miller fanfic #jettsflora&faunachallenge

[asapeveryday]

SHOCK FACTOR ★彡 PART 4

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Rival!Reader

Warnings: swearing

A/n: I hate this ngl 😣 didn’t turn out that great. I swear I’ll do better

“ITS TEN PM, why the fuck are you at my hotel right now?”

Elaine gives an unbothered look at your harsh tone, which shocks you because she’s usually more reactive.

“Seriously?” You scoff. She’d been standing stupidly outside of your door for god knows how long, spamming your phone with messages you didn’t see due to Paige taking it. “You don’t even have a key to my room…what did you think you’d accomplish?”

“It’s a Saturday night, I thought I’d take you out.” She rolls her eyes. “Plus I know your teammates are partying right now. Sorry I didn’t want you to be alone.”

“Well maybe I would’ve liked to be alone, since I didn’t answer the 40 texts and calls you gave me.” You say, opening the room up and stepping inside, letting her follow behind. If you were going to argue it wouldn’t be in the hallway for everyone to hear.

“Well you weren’t alone, were you?” Elaine quips with a rude tone that is foreign for you to hear from her.

“So what if I wasn’t?” You narrow your eyes. “I didn’t come to Connecticut just to see you.”

She’s immediately stung by this, and you feel bad for a split second until she retaliates. “Well you came to Storrs for me, right? Unless you were just trying to fuck Paige Bueckers and leave. You and your little fake arguments, you sure you’re not covering up for something?”

“You’re kidding.” You laugh at her, but it’s uncomfortable. “You think I’m faking my arguments to cover up some elaborate hookup? Shit, you’re crazy.”

“I’m not fucking crazy,” Elaine voice raises above yours, clearly hurt by the comment. “I don’t know why you’re all over the chick, and going out to dinner with her? It’s weird.”

“I don’t know why you care so much. That’s what’s weird.”

“I just think you should keep your distance from Paige.” She says, quieter. “The media has been all over you two, I don’t know if you’ve noticed but it’s overwhelming.”

“Obviously not if I don’t know this already.” You raise your eyebrow. “Guess it’s been overwhelming for you though.”

Elaine is quiet for a moment, arms crossed in an attempt to comfort herself. “I’m sorry.” She says. “I guess I’ve just been jealous. You came to see me after like a year, and I kinda felt like you were more focused on Paige then me.”

At the thought of this you immediately feel awful. You hadn’t seen Elaine for a long time, and when you have been with her you were admittedly distracted.

“I’m sorry Lainey.” You sigh out. “I haven’t been here long…It’s just been a lot. We have the rest of the week.” You hold out your arms and she gladly hugs you tight.

“I’m not gonna lie,” you mumble against her “I thought you were mad about Paige for a whole other reason.”

“What?”

“Never mind.” You shake your head, brushing off the thoughts of her jealousy being a little different from how she explained. “Let’s go out. I need a drink.”

-

You tried to go out and have fun, but your mind kept wandering to earlier. Paige’s hands on your face, her mouth hovering above yours, her eyes staring through you. The memory of her knuckles white and wrapped around the steering wheel as she drove you back home, a pent up expression on her face.

You weren’t sure if she was so annoyed because your moment with her was interrupted, or because Elaine was the one who interrupted it. Despite Paige dismissing your friend, and Elaine seemingly missing your company, you knew there was something going on between them. You just weren’t sure what, and the shots you’d done didn’t help collect your thoughts.

Elaine had been with you for a bit, but eventually went off on her own to get detrimentally more drunk then you planned on getting. You were sitting at a table alone and sipping when you got a notification.

paigebueckers is going live!

You switch to a burner account before joining the live and being greeted with Paige’s straight face reading comments while KK hung out in the background. You felt pathetic watching her live anonymously, but you needed to see her.

“Someone said ‘Ain’t it too late for ya’ll?’” Paige scoffs, turning to KK

“Girl, it’s a Saturday. Who you think we are?” KK quips back, enticing a chuckle from Paige that makes your stomach flutter.

They take turns answering questions; Paige gracefully dodging the less appropriate ones and KK occasionally reading something that makes everyone go crazy. They were so funny together you almost forgot how sad it was that you were in a bar watching their live.

KK looks at the chat for a longer moment before her eyebrows raise, mouth forming an amused smirk while glancing at Paige, who is turned away from the phone and looking at something off screen.

“Aye Paige, someone said ‘u still beefin’ with (name)?’”

Paige flashes a dangerous look to KK who unsurprisingly cowers a bit, but she turns towards the camera and rubs her face sheepishly while responding. “S’ not really beef. We jus don’t get along.”

“Oh?” KK responds, this obviously being news to her.

Blue eyes finally meet the camera, and you almost feel like she’s staring right at you when she says “and I’m tired of people comparing me to her. We are not on the same level.” Paige lets out an entitled huff. “It’s embarrassing. People think just cus we talked like twice we’re equal.”

KK nudges her quickly. “She don’t mean that ya’ll.” She says nervously.

“Nah, I do. I mean she’s not bad. She just don’t got nothing on me.” Paige shrugs. “She’s boring. No shock factor.”

“Aight ya’ll I think that’s it for tonight.” KK says curtly, eyeing Paige. The live ends in an instant, and you’re left feeling hurt, embarrassed, confused and angry. This didn’t feel like an attack on your skill as a basketball player. It was more personal, and Paige knows it.

Your mind is racing from the countless drinks, loud atmosphere and eventful live you’d just watched. You shoot Juju a text and ask her to go live with you, and she surprisingly responds in an instant. The viewers are scarily high right from the get go.

“Who came here from Paige’s live?”

“Ain’t no way she’s at a bar rn”

“Aye (name) how’s Connecticut?”

“lowk think her and Paige are hooking up”

“juju can you say hi pls”

“Hey guys.” You mutter, attempting to steady your voice. Juju raises an eyebrow at your state. “You sure you shud be on live right now?” She asks. “Who’re you even with?”

“Never mind that.” You shake your head, reading through the comments. “Hiii guys. Connecticut’s alright, Storrs is a shithole though.” You laugh.

“Missing California?” Juju asks.

Sighing, you reply “Very much so.”

“Sooo, let’s talk bout your new friend!” Juju smirks, most probably unaware of Paige’s newest comment about you.

“And who would that be?”

“Paige Bueckers, duh. Must be nice to see her in person outside of the court.” Juju says innocently, not paying attention to the increase of questions in the chat concerning Paige’s live.

“Nice isn’t quite the word I would use.” You grumble, and Juju immediately seems to regret bringing it up. She tries to save the situation by asking something else, but you interrupt her. “I think the word disappointing…or maybe shitty fits better.”

“Hah, you’re funny.” Juju attempts to seem amused, but is clearly trying to figure out how she can work in some damage control. She furiously types something out and you get a message from her a moment later

JUJU-KINS 😘

Girl get tf off of live RIGHT NOW and get yo self home and in bed. Ur so drunk.

Seen.

Ignoring the text, you continue to read questions out loud. Your body is practically on fire and you’re aware that you’re not thinking straight, but there are no intentions of stopping now. Paige certainly couldn’t have enough of talking big online, so why should you?

“‘Weren’t you just with Paige at a coffee shop yesterday?’” You read out loud. “Not intentionally.” You huff, eyebrows narrowing. “The girl can’t accept I’m tryna have a peaceful vacation. For whatever reason I keep seeing her everywhere, it’s not even funny, just fucking weird.”

“(Name) I think we should put the phone down.” Juju says quietly.

“Mm, it’s not even my problem she thinks ‘m boring anyways.” You grumble, words starting to slur. “Mayyybe I’m boring cus I don’t wanna fuckin’ talk to her n her shitty Italian restaurant.”

The chat begins to blow up at this, and it finally hits you how much damage you’ve just done. “M’kay bye.” You rush out, quickly ending the live and texting Juju back.

YOU

howw fucked am i scale of 1-10

JUJU-KINS 😘

We not even in numbers anymore atp.

Get yo ass up and go home pls. This is an issue for tmr now

Your head is starting to pound as you get up from your spot and push through people in search of Elaine, thankfully she finds you first, half stumbling-half intentionally bumping into you. She’s obviously wasted.

“Ready to go homeee?” She hiccups, accepting your hand as help to balance herself. “I’m gonna call an Uber.” You reply. “Can we wait outside?”

The two of you practically tumble out of the bar, the cold air slightly sobers you up, and clarifies your thoughts a bit. You feel yourself start to get irritated.

“Do you have to get so fuckin’ drunk every time we go out?” You huff out.

“Don’t start.” Elaine snaps. “You’re literallyyyy slurring your words.”

“At least I can walk,” you scoff. Your head is absolutely aching now, and you’re dying to be home. “You look so stupid tripping around.”

“Well you look stupid feining over Paige, goin live n shit talking her.” She retaliates.

“I’m not feining for shit.”

“You’re obsessed.” Elaine slurs. “N’ I’ll tell you what. She’s going to play your ass and you’re never gonna get over it, cus that’s what she does.”

“You know way more about her then you let on.” You narrow your eyes, unsurprised when she avoids your gaze. “How’d you even know I was out with her today anyways?”

She’s quiet, you can’t tell if she’s thinking or if she’s genuinely ignoring you.

“Elaine.” You say sharply. “How the fuck did you know I was out with Paige?”

“I have her location.” She mumbles.

“What?”

“She still shares her location me.”

“She still…” you pause, attempting to understand what she’s saying. “She shares her location with you?”

“I mean, I don’t think she knows she hasn’t turned it off.” Elaine says sheepishly. “I just happened to check n’ I saw you guys together.”

“This is so fuckin’ weird.” You scoff. “What happened to you guys barely knowing each other?”

“Yeah, well that’s what I told you.” She rolls her eyes.

“And what didn’t you tell me?”

“I’m surprised she didn’t tell you.” Elaine shrugs, eyes heavy.

“We used to fuck.”

The immediate regret on her face as the words leave her mouth makes you sick to your stomach, and a swirl of unintelligible emotions begin to manifest inside of you.

“And you didn’t tell me this because?”

“Didn’t think it was worth mentioning.”

“Why’d you try to get me to flirt with her that first day at the bar?”

She shakes laughs and her head. “Didn’t think you’d actually end up talking to her, didn’t think she’d be so interested in you either. You’re not really her type.”

Exasperated and unsure how to even articulate what you’re feeling, you simply bring your hands to your face. “Do you understand how fucking weird this is?”

“Don’t get so frustrated.” She scoffs. “You’ve talked to her for like three days, n’ you thought she was a dick before this week. Don’t tell me you’re into her now.”

“It’s not even about her at this point.” You sneer. “I don’t know who the fuck you are, and I don’t know why everyone here is fucking obsessed with lying.”

When she doesn’t respond you take the opportunity to get more in, facing her now and looking down in disappointment. “I didn’t even know you liked girls, and now you’re telling me you’ve been hooking up with someone I know? God, it makes sense now why you were so quick to start insulting her the minute she showed any interest in me.”

Elaine can’t even bring herself to look at you, and the fact that she’s so drunk she might not even be digesting what you’re saying is infuriating you.

“Then you guilt trip me about not paying enough attention to you? Was that really what was bothering you, or was it the fact that she was out with me?”

Taking a deep breath, you turn your back to her and check your phone to see when your uber was coming. You also see a text message.

PAIGE

Yo

Normally you’d have ignored any message from her after today, but your mind was still racing from adrenaline and you couldn’t help but respond.

YOU

what do u want

PAIGE

Are you still at that bar?

I feel like we shud talk

YOU

you gonna tell me why you lied to my face?

i’m with Elaine rn

PAIGE

Oh uh…

I can pick both u guys up and drop her off ? If u want.

YOU

i’m not riding in the car you prolly fucked her in

bye

PAIGE

Typing…

#Spotify #fanfiction #fanfic #paige bueckers #uconn wbb #rpf #paige bueckers x reader #uconn women’s basketball #paige buckets #paige x reader #rivals to lovers #rivalry #light angst

[smileysuh]

comfort cuisine - TEASER

🌙 starring. Johnny Suh x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. You’ve never felt a feral need like this before, but it’s not necessarily the primal type of drive. Instead, it’s a feeling of wanting to be close to this man- who you’ve been next to for so many years, but unable to touch. Except, he’s touching you now, and you want more.

tw/cw. unprotected sex, breast worship/massaging, big dick Johnny, fingering, pussy stretching prep, 'it's finger licking good,' praise, dirty talk, masturbation, multiple reader orgasms, cumming together, creampie, soft sex, longing, fluff, etc… I pet names: (hers) honey.

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 10.8k

🍭 aus. aged up/widower dad!John, best friends to lovers, Chef!John, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. I'm so happy that people loved Line Chef Mark in my fic Real Talk, I received so many messages about giving Head Chef John his own love story, and this is what I came up with in the past four months :) it's a little different from what I normally do, but I wanted to continue with that 'slice of life' theme and venture into a plot line I've never tried before with widower/single dad John :)

“So two line chefs called in, huh?” you prompt, tucking your legs up and making room for the large man on the sofa.

“I expected it from Haechan, but Mark’s generally pretty reliable. His girlfriend was on shift today, so I know he wasn’t skipping to be with her- I’m guessing they got pretty messed up last night.”

“They’re young,” you point out, accepting a beer from him. “We used to be young.”

“Used to be,” Johnny laughs, taking a swig of his drink. 

Looking at this man- this father, you realize maybe he never really got the chance to be young. At twenty five, he had a six year old, he wasn't running around blacking out and getting hung over, he was working his way up the employment ladder, dreaming about a better future for his daughter.

“You mentioned Mark has a girlfriend, I think I’ve heard about her a few times now, it’s interesting that she was in and he wasn’t.”

“I’m going to be honest, I love Mark, he’s a great kid- but, he can sometimes be peer pressured into things. Haechan has a hold on Mark unlike any I’ve seen, they bring out… interesting sides of each other.”

You laugh at the description, and it’s clear there’s more on Johnny’s mind, so you wait for him to continue. 

“It’s nice that Mark is young and in love, I can understand that- but at the same time, I just hope he doesn’t make the same mistakes I did. Not that Soonbok is a mistake, of course- I just mean that… life is fragile. You think you’re going to be with someone forever, and then you’re reminded of how frail things can be.”

You frown at his words. Even after all of these years, Johnny still holds so much pain about his lost wife. You want to do your best to help Johnny in every aspect of his life, especially emotional, but this is a topic you never know how to approach. He’s right for grieving, his ex was his first love, his true love- how is there anything you could ever say to make him feel better about her passing?

You open your mouth, only to close it, and Johnny watches you intently. Sometimes he looks at you, the way he’s looking at you right now, and you wonder if he feels the same level of connection with you that you feel with him. You wonder if he wants you to kiss him, if a kiss would make him feel better, if it would - if even for a moment - help him forget about the pains he’s faced in his life.

But it’s because of the pains he’s faced that neither of you can close the distance, you’d like to think about it that way at least. Even after all these years, it’s still too early, so you simply reach out and gently squeeze his hand.

Johnny offers you a smile, and you’re glad that in some small way, maybe you’ve helped him.

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#johnny suh #johnny suh smut #nct #nct 127 smut #nct smut #johnny nct #johnny nct smut #nct johnny smut

[iwaasfairy]

┌─ “ ! „ HEARTBEAT

tw. pseudocest, noncon, possessiveness, grooming?, age gap, blood, murder, a lot of trauma bonding

wordcount. 6k

a/n. thank yoUUUU rhi for betaing you are my favorite as alwaysssss I love you soooo much ♡♡

okkotsu yuuta x fem!reader

Blood is splattered on the ground of the dirty alley, and there’s another heavy thump when his kick once again lands on the kid’s skull and he moans in pain. He calls him a kid in his head because he’s got that shit-faced little attitude, and now an ugly gap where his front teeth used to sit, but he should be old enough to know better. As a couple passes by the narrow street, he shields things from view a little, before using the long edge of his sheathed sword to push the dumb, bloody face to the side. Because his eyes are starting to look like two overripe tomatoes from the impact, he couches down before the sandy brunet.

“You know what this is about?” Yuuta’s voice is hoarse. He hadn’t really noticed it before, but it’s been a busy week cleaning up your messes. Don’t get him wrong, he doesn’t mind. If anything, it makes him feel sort of useful. You’re good and kind and don’t get into trouble on purpose — which is why he’s here late at night making sure things get handled. Niisan’s got it, after all. He doesn’t bother to clear his voice. “Hey.”

“Take my cash,” the young man below him now whistles through the missing teeth, teary eyes darting around as he pats his hand all over himself to look for a wallet.

Yuuta scoffs. “I don’t want your money. If I did, you think I’d waste my time beating your face in like you had it coming?” The anxious, almost nervous lilt to his own voice doesn’t escape him. If you could see him now, you’d probably say that he was enjoying this too much - and while he is, the idea of this getting back to you doesn’t escape his mind. It won’t though, logically speaking. The kid probably wouldn’t be able to see straight for a couple hours, and you will never find out. “I want to know why you’re hanging around Rika’s kid sister.”

“Kid? W- I don’t know any Rika!” He yelps when he tries to lift his head and gets the handle of the weapon hit hard onto the bridge of his nose again, adding more blood to the mess that’s running all over the bottom of his face. Yuuta really can’t see it, lifting his top lip in slight disgust. Handsome, where? Just as much as this boy isn’t really a kid anymore, neither are you. But you’re younger, and deserving of protection — is it really so bad he wants to imagine you as his baby sister for a bit longer before you start trying to escape from under his wings?

Not that you’re going to go anywhere.

“I don’t know a Rika,” the blond whines again now, hiding his face into his hands to drool and hiccup against the cold floor.

“Orimoto Rika, has a kid sister.” Yuuta bites back, patience running really thin.

“O-I- I kn- oh, we’re in the same uni prep class!” He gets up to close his eyes and focus all his attention on not just kicking against his skull until the answers fall out. He knows that, how else would he even know to ask? The head damage takes it a few seconds to make the guy continue, sniffling. “We’re friends- or- my friend knew her. I liked her so we hung out a few times.” Yuuta’s hand is cold around the worn handle.

He takes a slow breath, watches the cloud of air as he lets it out. The promise ring glints in the light of the street, and it’s all familiarity and instinct that makes him brush his thumb over it. “Were you serious with her? Or did you tell her whatever so you could fuck her? Hm? Did you fuck my little sister?” The brunet snivels and whines under him when his foot lands back right before his face, demanding attention.

“I won’t talk to her anymore, I swear! I swear I w-won’t even - it’ll be like I never existed. Please.” The pitiful whining he’s doing, groveling like a dog below him - sort of reminds him of a younger him. Someone who didn’t have a purpose yet, and was scared of everything for it. The heavy weight of the ring clings to his hand when he lifts it to unsheath the katana, seeming to wrap a comforting palm around his own. If he could, he'd tangle fingers with her.

“P-please, let me go home! I didn’t do- I wouldn’t touch your s-sister, I didn’t know.”

“I hate guys who aren’t serious with her.” He clicks his tongue, and has to spit out the nasty taste that this entire situation leaves on his tongue. The weight of the sword is barely an inconvenience when both hands wrap around the handle properly. He’s doing this for Rika and him. Always. “She deserves so much better.” A mean flash of possession crosses his thoughts - how no one except him will ever be good enough. But he pushes it back, because that has nothing to do with why he’s doing this. Nothing.

+

“Yuuta~” Her voice haunts when he closes his eyes.

He’s in the sandpit of the Children’s hospital, rocking back and forth softly on the edge of it as he waits. The sun makes the sand nice and toasty, it warms his feet when he plants them down. “Yuuta!” It’s instinctive, when he looks up at the familiar voice. Rika’s hair travels in a perfect arc behind her when she runs to make it catch the light like a halo. Pretty blue dress making the shine of her hair even brighter, cheeks rosy, and her eyes glittering diamonds when they find his and she crashes down next to him. Her scraped knee is proof that it’s too hard, but he can’t help but smile when her cheek touches his arm on the landing.

Something hits the floor with a loud thump.

Yuuta turns over his shoulder to watch. There’s a smaller child that’s chin down on the earth behind them two, thick crocodile tears threatening to spill when Rika gasps. “Rika neechan~ Wait.” You pout, straightening up quicker than you should to reach your hands out to her. The girl hurries over to dust your cheeks off and drag you along behind her. It’s such a nice day out, Yuuta’s sweater is just thick enough to make his entire body warm. He stares at your face a little too long, before glancing between you two.

You’re still rounder than she is, but it’s undeniably eerie. “Your sister?” He asks softly, and Rika grins wide. She gently maneuvers you by the hand to sit next to her, then pulls you into a hug.

Her lips are pretty pink when she licks them. “This is Yuuta. Say ‘hi Yuuta’.” You parrot your sister obediently, as she waves your hand around at him. “Me and Yuuta are going to get married. So you should be very nice to him, okay?” Her sweet cheeks are the exact same as yours, long lashes and big, knowing eyes that always have him staring. You just look absentmindedly at the grass when Rika holds you into her side, but nod.

He smiles softly when your big eyes find his again. And Rika giggles. “And she’s gonna be your sister one day, so you gotta protect her well. We’re gonna be one happy family, promise?” She extends her arm to hold out a pinky finger at him. “That’s what I want.”

+

His fingers are pressing indents into your arm. It’s unusual. Yuuta’s always gentle, he’s soft and cares, but today his hand is screwed almost protectively tight around your upper arm, and you can’t say that you hate the feeling. Maybe childishly, you want him to squeeze even harder - so you’ll have no reason to get out.

You don’t come here a lot. Not since the accident tore open the painful scarred memory of it, but even before then, it wasn’t exactly your favorite place. It’s at Yuuta’s gentle prompting that you even managed to dress, and now walk however slowly between the low stone walls. The rain taps impatiently on the umbrella above, as the older boy casts you a careful glance. Then slowly bends to sit on his ankles, and grabs your hand ever so softly, meeting your eyes. His hands, though big enough to dwarf yours now, are almost velvety when they clasp around yours. It feels like he’s exponentially grown, while you’ve stayed pretty much the same.

Partly the illness. Mostly the age.

“Think you can go on?” he softly asks, kind eyes sympathetically regarding you. Like he’s making a judgment call about whether to turn back after all - debating the long walk back to the hospital. “I’ll be right here with you.”

“You’ve already gone before, haven’t you?” Your voice sounds a bit accusatory, a bit pouty too. Can’t be helped. Yuuta could be a living saint and you’d still find it hard. He clearly doesn’t take it to heart, because he smiles. His one hand then moves up to ruffle your hair.

“It’s still hard for me too, though,” his lips quirk up in an almost smile, but you can tell he doesn’t mean it. It’s sort of comforting to know that even someone like him feels it. Of course he would. Your neesan was family, but Yuuta probably knew her better than you ever could. He was beside her when she got out the two times, and was waiting when she had to get re-admitted. He was there when she got hit— there’s a comforting brush of your cheek when he stands back up and the umbrella gets so much higher. Yuuta blinks. “Come. I think you can do it.”

Your chubby cheeks flood with warmth, as you take his fingers into your hands with a nod. “Okay.”

It’s like this that you wind up at the headstone, stepping through dredged earth that’s been walked on too much. It seems to cling to the bottoms of your shoes with intent - you squeeze Yuuta nii’s hand tighter at the sight of the family grave. It now holds three of your kin in a warm embrace under the several bouquets of wilting flowers, and however morbidly, you think that maybe you’ll be joining soon. You’re young, but it’s not lost on you when the nurses send each other pitying looks.

“Is this where neesan’s buried?” Your voice sounds pinched and small, and sort of pathetic. You imagine Yuuta nii cried when he came to the funeral, but he wouldn’t have whined. You’re whining. You don’t want Yuuta to get fed up with you. Not when he’s the last semblance of ‘family’ you have left. After a while of staring blankly at the stone, he nods, and turns over his shoulder to smile at you again, pulling you a little closer to him. Your arms loop around his waist, staring down at the pretty whites that shake under the rain. “Is this where I’ll be buried when I die?”

He freezes. You feel bad about the double take he does when his spine goes more straight, rigid limbs dropping by his side as a deep, uncomfortable breath makes its way out. Your hands wring together instead.

However long it takes for him to unlock his limbs is however long you breathe through your tears as they well up stubbornly along your lash line, before your head is pulled to his ribs into an embrace. He swallows back emotion himself. “That’s not- I’m not going to let anything happen to you. I promise. I promise.”

“I’m sick-”

“No.” His eyes glint with something silvery when he takes your face between both hands and lets your childishness wash over him, clenching his jaw. “What happened to Rika was an accident- I- I couldn’t do anything then. But nothing’s going to happen to you as long as I’m here. I need- you to believe me.”

You don’t flinch when he uses your cheek to turn your face his way, but the urge still sits. His eyes study your face too intently, like he’s looking for something he can’t quite find. “I promised that I’d be a niichan that protects you.”

Rain splatters into a million glistening flecks as it meets the headstone.

“Okay,” you say.

It isn’t lost on you that his jaw is set too tight as he drags you back by the hand towards his bike, fist clenched around the umbrella. He breathes a tiny, ‘Later, Rika’ before turning on his heel. You don’t manage the same. Your voice gets stuck in your throat, even when he helps you up onto the bike rack in the back, pulling your face into his chest too tight- squeezes you to mold against him. He smells nice for a teen boy. The kiss he leaves on your crown is gentle, and leaves a soft warmth on your skin — You doubt it is really meant for you.

+

The door pushes open as you’re putting clips into your bangs, tongue trapped between your teeth. You cast Yuuta a glance through the mirror when he lingers at the door, and try to smile. “I’m almost ready.” You’re no longer too keen on fighting, the longer the silent treatment drags on. After a while of watching you with his arms crossed over his chest — he walks over to your bed to plop himself down and lets himself fall backward.

“I’m sorry,” the noiret sighs at nothing in particular, as you put on a necklace and after debating for a second, some perfume. The noise makes Yuuta look, studying you when you turn. It’s easy to forget sometimes that Yuuta didn’t have to stay with you, and he sure as hell didn’t have to give up a lot of his youth to take care of you like he does. Like your other family refuses to do when all the cards are on the table. He catches your stare. “You know I love you. I… worry when you’re not right here where I can see you. We stick together.”

“I know.” Your smile only barely makes your lips move, but you do mean it. You just wish realizations like this didn’t always have to come at the cost of fighting. “For what it’s worth, I’ll probably always forgive you.” You try to laugh, and brush your hair out of your eyes a final time before grabbing your bag. “I’m only going to be out for a few hours, max.”

Yuuta frowns when he sits up. His dark hair is brushed out of his face, damp and soft from the shower. “You’re still going?”

You blank. “Yeah, Himari and Shota are waiting for me. We’re going to see a movie.” He only has to let his eyes travel over your body and clothing once, for you to read what he’s thinking. You yank the edge of your skirt a bit lower, and pull your shoulders up. “What, what?! I can’t go out looking like this? It’s basically the same length as my uniform, what’s wrong with that?!”

“I didn’t say anything,” he breathes back, empty eyes regarding you with a static sort of- indifference, you guess.

“You don’t have to, niichan! God!” You turn to walk out the room, but Yuuta grabs your wrist when you pass by the bed. Sat down like he is, eyes tracing you like a lion- Yuuta no longer looks like the boy that used to draw stars on the ceiling of your hospital room for your amusement. Your cheeks heat when he basically glares straight at you for your attitude, and mulls the answer around in his mouth. Your anger subsides as you take a breath. This is the guy who makes you fresh apple juice in the morning, and calls you up between shifts. Because he cares. He just cares.

“Can I please go, Yuuta nii?”

After a few seconds, he clicks his tongue, staring at the edge of your skirt before tugging at it too, barely hiding a frown you can see dig between his brows. “You know I don’t like that Shota kid?”

Your lips jut out. “Yeah…” It’s getting awfully close to time to leave. You take a step back just to get his hands away from you. It’s distracting, and this is your brother you’re dealing with. “But he’s really nice. He started high school already but he used to be in my class the last three years, so… so you don’t have to worry. He knows I can’t do everything because I’m sick and he says—”

“Yeah, I’m sure he says everything you want to hear… You’re smarter than this. You don’t actually believe that.”

“He’s my friend.” A friend that makes your heart beat a bit faster when he smiles at you, but what’s it to him? “He doesn’t lie.”

Yuuta grimaces when you stare him down. “Don’t tell me about teenage boys, I used to be one.” He bristles before sitting up straighter, and though he’s technically below you, you still feel his energy tower as those big, dark eyes stay on your face. “Are you really ‘going to see a movie’? Or are you just going to sit in a boy’s room all night while I’m worried sick-”

You’re about ready to walk out, but his fingers are still looped around your wrist. “We are going to the movies! Himari and I! Just because a boy is there- ugh! Niichan, don’t make it weird!” The heat burns higher on your cheeks when you ball your fists, ignoring the pressure behind your eyes. This is so embarrassing. “I want to go.”

It’s quiet for much too long, making goosebumps appear all over your exposed skin. Then he breathes. “Come here.” His voice has more of an edge than it used to. You used to like the way your name fell from his lips. You’re not so sure you do anymore. Instead of storming out and forgetting all about him, you stare back at the sharpness in his eyes. When he pats his lap with familiarity, you jerk a brow. But you sit. His breath brushes along your neck too softly where he’s seated. It tickles on the way down.

It almost feels like… like he could wrap his hands around your neck and squeeze until you stopped struggling.

Yuuta nii wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t.

Fingers come to your necklace, undoing it, and it drops into your lap on the pretty, blue skirt. It’s suddenly much too cold in the room, and you resist the urge to wrap your arms around yourself. It’s fine. You’re fine. Yuuta is family.

Still the untouched skin of your neck feels too exposed.

If he notices your rigid posture, he doesn’t bother fixing it. Just reaches, then pushes your head forward. The childishly familiar pink, bedazzled heart he holds up instead glints, swaying from where you left it on your side table for the night. “You get back at 9,” his lower voice sounds, “or else I’m driving out to wherever you are and dragging you back to my car.” When you don’t say anything in response, he brushes away your hair from your shoulders.

“Yuuta nii,” you start, clamming up when he drapes the dainty thing around your throat and does the closure for you. “I wasn’t going to wear that one tonight.” You don’t always want to wear whatever Rika left behind until infinity.

“I think you will,” he breathes back, and kisses your exposed shoulder. It’s less sweet, more something to punctuate his statement. If he wasn’t so familiar and soft, you’d immediately fight against the way his strong arms wind around your waist to anchor you in his lap. “Just wear it.” His hands stay against your skin, long after he’s finished. Too long, and after seconds of sitting in the tense silence, you jerk up off his lap to grab your discarded bag from the floor. The other necklace drops to the carpet somewhere, but you don’t care.

“Fine,” you bring out tightly, before giving him a last look. Your bottom lip trembles a slight bit, so you suck it into your mouth to make it stop. And tears sting at the corners despite yourself. “Later, then.”

“Tell Himari that niichan says hello. It’s been so long since she’s been here.” He gets up from your bed too, and you resist the urge to rush out the room before him when he steps around you. You can’t fight the feeling that somehow… you were just caught in your lie. Your phone beeps in your bag, as Yuuta nii disappears around the corner. Shota, probably.

+

Blood. The door creaks, swings against the wind.

Dead.

You hope he’s dead. Blood pools at the center of the showers, sinks down the drain too slowly. It sticks to the pretty porcelain tiles of the old school locker room before the water gurgles it down.

They’re dead.

You don’t have to question it before it’s confirmed. Before the heavy, silver cleaver is lodged into the side of the already ruined skull. All of them. All of the boys of the soccer team seem to be present, though you don’t want to try and count. Counting makes it real. This shouldn’t be. The heavy thump makes way for a gross squelch when he yanks the metal out, and keeps the body down with his foot.

The spatters on his face are still wet. You can’t help the way your voice comes out when you breathe in deep and try to keep the tears from spilling over. The cleaver’s red and sticky and so is his hand, up to his forearm, his forehead from wiping his hair away. All of it, ruined.

“Y-yuuta nii?”

The metal door of the locker slams closed with the wind and hits you in the back, sending you skittering forward a few steps before you force the air out of your lungs with a stuttered pant.

With a soft smile, he turns over his shoulder. “Shhh.” The blood’s crusted under his nails when he presses a finger to his lips, then waves you closer. “Help niichan out?” His eyes glint over, before his smile goes a little wider, and he whips the blood off the weapon onto the ground. “S’ your fault I had to do this after all. We can clean up together. Hm?”

Your breathing is so shallow that you can feel your heartbeat in between your ears. You aren’t sure why you nod. The guilt tastes bitter on the way down.

+

Rika was dead on impact. She didn’t have a chance, even after she fought so vehemently against what took your mom. You know that. Even if she didn’t get struck by misfortune then, she might’ve not lived past her teens.

Yuuta doesn’t seem to know. He also doesn't seem to consider the same for you either— letting you toy with the edge of his shirt where you’re curled into him in your too-small bed. The hospital wants you back for another check-up.

It’s true that you’ve already outlived your sister, but that doesn’t mean it’ll last forever. Yuuta nii doesn’t want to hear it. As he brushes your hair with his fingers, you scratch the arm where the IV’s always get attached with an absent minded pout. Until Yuuta notices, pouting down at you. “Are you still feeling dizzy? I can make you some green tea if you’ll let go of me for a few minutes. Lots of honey like you like.” You quickly shake your head.

To him this is final, the worst you’ll ever get, and in reality that’s probably not the case. You don’t tell him though. His deep eyes stay on you a little too long. “What’s wrong?”

Sometimes you wake up and can’t open your eyes past a blurry sliver, your head tight enough to make your skull feel like it’s caving in. Times where you have to clasp your stomach painfully tight to hold yourself together — stumbling in tears into Yuuta’s room. Like you’ll disintegrate in his arms unless you lock him around yourself. This isn’t as bad, but you still feel bad.

Feverish and cold all at once, achy where your stomach goes up and down. You can’t mention the possibility of having to go back into urgent care without aniiki spiraling, so you keep your mouth shut. “I don’t like green tea,” you guiltily admit instead, and stare up at him when he holds a few knuckles to your head, studying you.

His expression scrutinizes you a little tighter, before he pets over your crown. He presses a soft kiss onto your lips. It’s Rika that loved it, you want to say, but for some reason you can’t make the words come out. He sighs, slightly put out, but then nods. “If you’re feeling better later, maybe you can help Yuuta nii with the curry. Okay?”

“Mhm,” you smile up at him, and you can see how the muscles in his jaw unclench.

His soft hands cup your face intently, staring down at you too intently. It starts sweet, until the feeling of his breath dust over your face and you watch as he flicks his eyes all over you. “You look so much like her. I can tell now that you’re getting older though,” his thumb smoothes over your soft cheek. “We should see if there’s something in Rika’s stuff you can still wear.”

“Won’t be able to fit it anymore, niichan.” Your voice comes out apologetic, though you don’t know why.

“Hm. You might be right.” His look goes more distant before he pulls you closer. Legs tangled, arms loosely looped around you. “You’re still smaller than me though. Luckily.” He takes a deep breath, before nuzzling his nose into your crown to breathe long and deep. His warm hands trail over yours before squeezing. “I love you, you know that? Always will.”

You stare at the wall of mementos past Yuuta’s shoulder. Suffocatingly cram packed. Her pictures. Her music poster. Her pre-teen bottle of perfume you wear only on special occasions. Your hands stop toying with the edge of his shirt to brush instead along his forearm until you meet something that isn’t skin. Yuuta’s quiet, but his breathing is slightly pinched— you don’t mean to.

You glance between you two to the plastic your finger hooks onto. The bracelet she made in the hospital care ward for Yuuta that he still wears despite the fact that the color has long peeled off of the cheap beads. “You loved neesan, right?” Your lashes almost brush when you look back at him, watch him trap his tongue between his teeth for a moment as pink sits on his cheeks. His hand wraps around yours to tangle fingers.

“I… did.”

He swallows. “She made the hospital seem a little less lonely.” The mementos seem to stare at you from across the room as he speaks, and the uncomfortable feeling in your stomach refuses to fade. If anything, it gets more painful. Tighter. “We’re going to be together forever though. And I,” he squeezes your hand, voice fading to barely a whisper, “I love you. Love you so much.”

There's a cold slid over your fingers when he moves. You allow him to slip off the band, gently, and almost as if he wants to give it to you without you noticing, his fingers slide the cursed thing onto your hand instead. His smile is gentle, makes those dark eyes look a little less pressing. “When you’re cleared from going back to the hospital, we can find me a matching one. We still have to get married, right?”

The room feels cold.

“... Okay.”

+

“Let’s kiss?”

It’s too late to be early when the shared bed gets crowded over on your side. “St- I’m going to sleep, Yuuta nii. Stop.” You don’t open your eyes to the touch, definitely not to the gentle brush of his fingers over your lips when he gets too close. Always too close- it’s suffocating. “I don’t wanna talk about it anymore.”

“Don’t be like that.” He sounds happy. He always sounds like that when it has to do with you, and it doesn’t take long for your eyes to flutter open when the thumb instead pushes into your mouth. “If we get married, this will be normal. Don’t pull back.” He pushes onto your tongue to make you hold it in your mouth all heavy and tasting of him, then leans in to push his forehead to yours. Deep, possessive eyes pinning you in place.

“You don’t want to?” It almost sounds mocking. You know you brought this on yourself. You asked to go home early, you asked to invite friends. Maybe this is payback the way big brothers give it. There’s tears that spring up anyway when his other hand slips under your shirt and he squeezes your soft belly. As the spit he wipes on your lips gets kissed away by an impatient sigh. “I’ve wanted to for such a long time. You wouldn’t ask me to wait more.”

“Yuuta nii. We’re siblings, aren’t we?” The ring glitters. Your hand is clenched into the front of his shirt as warm hands grab down your body— hands you love. Hands you trusted.

“Of course we are. That’s why I’m doing this, silly girl.” Hands that push your underwear down your round hips despite you fighting to keep them up. He giggles when you burn with embarrassment, before pressing kisses to your temple. “I love you. I love you, I love you. Who better to kiss you than big brother?” You shake your head, try to push- he doesn’t budge. Just keeps your body in place under his with his weight.

“G-get off of me, Yuuta! Stop being so weird!” You cry, pushing until he grabs your wrist and forces it down beside your head. He’s still smiling though, like he doesn’t have a care in the world. Like you’re still a child acting out. It’s that which makes you squirm more, and the glare digs into your forehead when he gets on top of you. “Stop~ I don’t want to kiss.”

Instead he laces his fingers with your ring hand, as the other patiently flutters down to rub over your pussy. You don’t want to. You don’t. Yuuta just smiles when he tilts his head to regard you, and squeezes your fingers a little tighter. “Rika-chan asked me to take care of you. Don’t get so mad.”

+

It’s getting cooler and cooler and cooler the longer he stands. Pressed in the corner of the sterile, greenish blue atmosphere with white sheets draped over your body. He takes a long, deep breath until the nurse finishes up with the checks, taking freshly drawn blood away in a vial. “You’re the guardian?”

The red stands out against your complexion as your restless sleep drifts deeper— he shifts in his seat to lace his hands together. “Her big brother, yes.”

She doesn’t bother to pretend to care when tapping her clipboard, gives a distracted smile. “The doctor will be here within the next hour, okay? Please wait here until then.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Yuuta’s quick not to let the smile quirk up onto his mouth when she’s already walking out before he finishes. As soon as the door falls into lock he gets up from the uncomfortable chair to kneel by your bedside and grasp your hand.

Soft. Small.

He hates to admit that he could spend hours here by your side; but the truth is the truth. He could, and he has. And he will, until it is no longer necessary.

Yuuta kisses your hand with a gentle smile, feeling your heartbeat thump under his lips. You mumble, he swears he can hear his name. “I’m here. Niichan’s here.” He smiles a little more when the soft fingers wrap back around his hand and he watches your expression relax even in your sleep. He can’t help it, the soft thumping against his cheek makes his entire body warm.

You’re so alive, and so close- every cell in his body yearns to be beside you. He kisses the area between your thumb and pointer in an attempt to soothe the feeling of biting down entirely. Instead he clasps your hand with two of his before standing up. “You would have loved Rika.” His mouth tingles. “She would’ve hated you- but you would have loved her. I think she would have been a bit jealous though.”

He dips to press a soft kiss onto your lips, humming softly when your warm breath dusts over his cheeks. “You’re so cute.” A few years ago, you would’ve had visitors waiting for you. “I know you were looking forward to graduation, but I’m still here for you.” He places his hands on both sides of your face to hover over you instead of pulling back, can’t keep himself from it.

“You don’t want to leave your niichan, right?” It’s not your fault that everyone else wants you to move on. He’ll take you just as you are. He has to force himself to pull back before he kisses you again, so you don’t wake just yet. You will. And you’ll cry into his chest about missing your precious graduation, and about being stuck here again, just when you were getting better. He never much wanted you in uni anyway.

From his space sat on the edge of your bed, he can easily see how the blanket squirms. How the motion curls and wiggles until he easily pulls the sheet down your chest, then your stomach.

Two beady eyes stare up at him as he brings his face a little closer. The fly head is still clinging to your stomach, hasn’t moved from where he left it. By now it’s become an accessory every few months. It’s not strong enough to kill you— just barely enough to keep you believing you’re still sick, and that’s all he really needs. You need his care, need him. He resists the urge to pick the thing up at least until he can take you back home.

Instead he nudges it up a little higher, so he can place his palm onto your belly to stroke gentle circles in its place, feeling the heat through the gown. He can feel your heart bounce all the way down your body, it’s so cute. When the little fodder curse crawls onto your chest, lids shooting open as you gasp. “Yuuta nii-” Your eyes are lined red, and as soon as they find him you start bawling.

More than happy to let him hike you up from the bed and into his arms, where you bury your face into his neck. Your hiccups are so cute. It’s easy to kiss them quiet when you don’t have enough breath to ask him to stop. He’s sure this time he could slip his tongue into your mouth and you wouldn’t say a thing.

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