#Every day I make the tags longer than the post

[parfaitblogs]

i NEED a angst fic (with a happy ending ofc) based on tolerate it by taylor swift please 🙏 big chance it’s been done before though and im just the most unoriginal bitch ever

tolerate it ❀ s. reid x reader

in which spencer reid gets out of prison, and you baselessly feel like your relationship is growing increasingly one sided.  pairing: spencer reid x reader genre: angst tags: post prison reid. neglectful bf spencer reid. happy (open) ending. communication yippee. themes of self doubt in reader. mentions of spencer not eating.  word count: 2k a/n: writers block isn't real you just need to watch criminal minds season 12 episode 13 'spencer' and then listen to tolerate it on repeat for three hours straight. iiii know human beings don't talk in long monologued speeches but for the sake of my sanity let us pretend i am shakespeare and spencer reid is my leontes. plzzzz tell me if u liked this or if u didn't yay thank u ily

i sit and watch you. i notice everything you do, or don't do. (lines 3–4)

A fork scrapes against ceramic. It emits a scratching sound that hurts your ears, and you're cringing from your curled up position on the couch as you hear it. Silverware shines beneath the bright, warm glow of his kitchen light, his food barely dented as he pushes it around his plate. 

He's been playing with it since he sat down to eat it. 

You're not too sure what's going through his head as he takes barely there bites of a meal you cooked. You don't think you want to know. But it takes him all of twenty three minutes to come to the same conclusion he made last night, and every other night before that. That he isn't going to eat any more of the food, and just like his fork, his chair scrapes against the floor as he stands. 

He wraps the plate in aluminium foil, the crinkling of metal being your only indicator that he has plans to eat it later. At least, that's what you hope. 

When he disappears into the bedroom, you follow him. Like a lovesick puppy, you're trailing after him, and your chest feels hollow with how embarrassing it all is. 

He doesn't know you're watching him, though. 

At least, not to the extent you are. He's field trained enough to know that you're keeping an eye on him, but your silence is only indicative of you giving him the space he so politely asked for three days ago. He's not in his right mind to assume you're silent for any other reason, and you've battled to a loss with the thoughts of letting him into your disaster of a brain. 

He doesn't need to know that.

The ensuite door shuts behind him, and you hear the water turn on minutes later. You take the cue to curl up on your side of the bed, your fingers toying with the paper edges of a book you now had in your lap. The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe, for you were rediscovering your love for children's novels amongst this trying time between you and Spencer. 

"Hey, did you buy me more shampoo?"

Your head lifts at the voice, the snowy Narnia world you had built in your brain shattering in an instant, as you're met with the dull colours of Spencer Reid's bedroom, and a showered and dressed Spencer Reid standing only a few feet away. His bedroom hadn't always been dull. Really, nothing had actually changed artistically within it to make it dull. But there's something about no longer laughing in a room once filled with so much love that mutes its vibrance. 

"Yeah," you say, dog-earing the page you were on and slipping it onto the nightstand. "I saw you were running low."

His lips part as he exhales, and you hate that you can tell he's pushing away something snippy. It wasn't that he was actively trying to start fights with you, but his temper has grown short, and he has more anger in his heart than before. 

"You didn't get the right one, that's all."

And though it isn't said rudely, your chest opens up like a black hole regardless, and a thick ball of emotion lodges in your throat.

"I'm sorry," you force past your lips, despising the hollow sound of your sad voice, and the fact that he notices it. His eyebrows frown towards each other at the sound of you, and he takes a step towards the bed.

It's pathetic, right? To be this upset over him letting you know the thing you bought him wasn't correct. In that almost fake sounding soft, kind voice he has when he is trying to keep his unnecessary frustration at bay. 

But it wasn't like this was the first time you'd done something for him in recent, and been told you did it wrong, instead of simply being thanked. Acts of service he was finding problems within no matter what they were, each new critique chipping away at the scales of your self confidence. You don't even think he's meaning to do it.

Every time this happens, memories of the other times flash violently in your head, reminding you that he could not find the beauty of being cared for by you the way he had before this. This, this thing you were barely even able to string the letters of together, because it seemed so foreign and faraway to you. Spencer Reid in prison is not a sentence that makes sense in this — or any other — timeline. You don't think it ever will. And yet.

You'd cooked him meals every single day since he got out. Meals he'd barely ever touch, wrap in foil, then put in the fridge for his work lunch the next day. You don't know if he's even eating them at work, or if he's just taking them there to throw them out. You've been too scared to reach out to any of his team members to ask. Knowledge is power, but knowledge makes his negligence all too real. 

There's a fear in calling it negligence. It isn't fair of you to expect the same man before and after prison, and you know he's dealing with more than you can fathom. You were prepared for distance. 

Just not this much.

The submerged sound of your name tugs you from your thoughts, and suddenly Spencer is closer than he was before, and he's repeating your name over and over in calling. Once you rapidly blink and shake your head, he determines you've returned to Earth, and he's falling silent again. There's concern knitting his eyebrows together, and he's got his hands hovering in the air, as if he's reaching for you, but second guessing himself at the same time. 

"Whats going on in your brain?" he asks you after a few beats of the two of you just staring at each other. 

Like a dam breaking, his question triggers an onslaught of emotions, and every fear and insecurity you've had inside you spills out.

"I feel like you suddenly hate me," your eyes rapidly search the duvet in front of you for your words. "Or—or I annoy you with my presence? Or my care? I mean, I try to do things for you and you barely even spare them a second glance, or thought. You barely talk to me anymore outside of updating me on your schedule. We sleep with miles of distance between us," you gesture to the bed beside you. "I cook you meals you don't eat, I wash your clothes you don't fold. Both of which are things that I'm fine with, because I can't imagine how skewed your appetite is, and I—I know laundry is a trigger now. But there is not even a slight hint of you—you being thankful. You know, appreciative. I feel like I'm following you around like a servant, and I'm doing things with no gratitude in return. I'm doing things I shouldn't have to, because I'm your girlfriend. Not your maid. But they are things that I want to do, because I care for you, and I love you," you pause, a self deprecating smile appearing on your face. "And—and you haven't even told me you love me since the day we got you home. Do you even love me, still? No, don't answer that. I don't think I want to know. I mean, I do. I don't know. God, Spencer, can you say something?"

He doesn't. For a long while, he stares at you, and you train your eyes on the pattern on the bedding you're currently sitting under. His gaze is pulverising, and every second that passes is another limb turning to dust beneath it. His silence should be enough of an answer for you. Yet, you hold onto groundless hope still.

It feels like eternity has passed you by, by the time you hear his voice again.

"I don't mean to make you think I don't love you," he says. "I do love you. Which feels meaningless to confess to you now, knowing how you feel, and I wish my expansive knowledge of words could come up with a confession that does justice to how you feel, but also makes you feel better. I can only hope you take it at face value, and don't assume I'm saying it because it's what you want me to say." 

He finds a seat on the bed in front of you, fingers fidgeting with each other as he fixates on the wooden flooring in front of him. 

"I am grateful for everything you've done for me recently. I'm sorry I haven't expressed that. I'm having a hard time putting one foot in front of the other, let alone stringing together sensical thoughts. I wish I could tell you what my mind sounds like without feeling guilty about it. It isn't nice, and every thought I have is far from positive," he lifts his eyes to you, and you watch in real time as they soften, for the first time since he came home. "I will tell you that there's you. Among every awful thought and feeling I have, there is you. I think I... I think I've been coming across as ungrateful because you are a breath of relief after every bad thought and feeling. Am I making sense?" you nod your head, and he sighs in, namely, relief. "I take a step back from processing my emotions and figuring out how I'm going to talk about them with that bureau therapist when I think about you, because you are the one good thing I have to hold on to. So I just bask in the thought of you, or the sight of you, and focus on nothing else."

You aren't sure when you began to cry, and you only realise it when you have to sniffle before speaking. "You can focus on so many things at once, though." 

"Not anymore," he admits, looking back down. "I don't know what's happened. I've gone from having a brain that works inhumanly — which is objectively an incorrect statement, but I digress — to one that cannot multitask on two separate things at once." 

"Oh," you whisper. "I see."

"I'm so sorry I've made you feel as though your efforts go unnoticed, honey," he murmurs. "They don't. This has just been really difficult."

"I know," you say, wiping your tear stained face with the back of your hand. 

There's a part of you that wants this to be the end of it. The end of self doubt, and distance, and instead the beginning of your relationship rebuilding itself alongside Spencer. 

There's a larger, more logical part of you, that knows you cannot just sweep every self conscious doubt under the rug and move on. 

"I just want some time," you tell him, and his shoulders tense as you speak. "Not to—not to break up. Or even for us to have a break. I don't want that. I've just felt very... unloved. Like you're merely tolerating my presence in your life. And now, I know you aren't. But I have to find my confidence in myself in this relationship again before I can move on."

"Okay," his voice is strained as he speaks, and you know he's not exactly content with your request for space.

You try not to focus on that, in order to stand firm in your decision. 

That is where the conversation ends. And just like every other night, he climbs into bed and leaves a considerable amount of distance between your two bodies. You choose not to dwell on it, because this is now him giving you the space you so politely requested. You were catastrophising, and you'd be damned if you let such a thing control your life any longer. 

It maybe wasn't all in your head, but you still had to take the self doubt shaped dagger from your stomach out.

now i'm begging for footnotes in the story of your life. (line 30)

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated ♡

[all-pacas]

camchase as a hilson parallel except it’s chase who is 100% wilson and cameron who is 160% house

[russellsppttemplates]

We learn to hold its hand (Charles Leclerc)

Two hearts that lost themselves in pain.

Two hearts that found eachother in love.

Note: english is not my first language. It's been some time since I posted one of these, hopefully I still know how to do it 🥲 A lot of changes have been going on at my job and I've been trying to adjust to all of it without loosing my sanity and writinb has been a good escape! I know this is a heavy topic, so proceed carefully, but I was feeling like writing this so here it goes... For those who are here and have stayed, thank you for being so patient and for staying - I hope this is good enough ✨️

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm not taking requests right now, so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to send them in but know that I don't know when I'll be able to get to them!

my masterlist

Cw: cancer, death of close relatives (reader's and Charles' father), grief, hospital procedures

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3 @sltwins

"Bonjour papa", Charles greeted, running his hand over the photograph that was on the grave, "I just got back from the track where we did the testing for Sauber, the last one before the season starts. It's hard, but I'm not afraid", he gulped, "Because you taught me that, even if I'm afraid, I have to go with fear. To move forward, because that's the only way. In racing, I can do that, but I won't be able to continue my life without you because I won't be able to. I try. Every day, I try. For maman, especially, since she tries to be strong for me, Lorenzo and Arthur, and somewhere along the way, we gathered the strength we didn’t know we had, but when we realize it, there it is, supporting us. I'm sure it's you. Every day, I remember that afternoon when you taught me how to ride a bike. Your insistence on removing the training wheels from the big wheel that ended up with a wound on my knee and that made me scream a few times. I remember you telling me that there were worse things than that simple scratch. I never thought that one day we would have to face them and that they would be the main reason why you are no longer by my side", Charles wiped away the tears, while he couldn't help but smile at the beautiful memories that came back to him, "But more than that, I remember the day you put a kart in front of me for the first time. There, I knew it was love for life. Yes, like Francis Cabrel's song. Or that afternoon when I stepped onto the concrete of the best race circuit in the world. There, I knew that I would begin a story in which, even though I was the main character, I would never have been able to write all the chapters that have been completed so far without the help of your pen. That support, that dedication, that encouragement, that love, father. Without them, I would never be the Charles that I am today. There was so much left to say and so much to do. But I am grateful for everything we said and for everything we did. I remember you telling me that you could no longer be strong and you asked me to be. I miss you so much. I miss you so much that I cannot express in words. I just want to thank you for continuing to light my path and for being the best father in the world. You are not by my side, but you are on my side. I feel that, every day. Thank you for continuing to support me in every race and in every challenge that life throws at me. Thank you for being so present, even though you're so far away. I miss you every day. And I feel you with me every day. Je t'aime, papa", he says goodbye, standing up and shaking off the little dirt on his jeans.

He picks up his backpack and starts walking towards the cemetery exit, but a sweet, melodious voice makes him stop walking. Charles looks in its direction, observing a female figure who, sitting next to someone's grave, was quickly but skillfully strumming the acoustic guitar and, at the same time, singing the song he had included in today's conversation with his father. Je l'aime à mourir by Francis Cabrel. Charles smiles at such coincidence and turned his back, picking up his pace, but soon stopping again, feeling a great need to go and meet that girl whose voice conveyed the pain he knew so well - loss.

Charles swallowed hard and instead of walking away, he found himself getting closer and closer to the young woman who, judging by your physical features, was probably around his age.

He waited for you to finish the song to make myself present, since you hadn’t noticed him yet.

“I miss you every day, Lucas. I wish you were here. It would make everything so much easier", he heard you say, through tears, and he felt the impact of all her words. There wasn’t a day that went by that he didn’t feel the same way.

Charles looks at the person you were visiting and his eyes almost popped out of his head when he notices the photo of a boy who couldn’t have been more than eight years old in that portrait. The date of death was twelve years ago.

"Who are you?", you ask.

Charles quickly woke up from his thoughts, focusing his gaze on you, now curiously appreciating him. The colour of your eyes, the way your hair fell down your back and your bare skin faacinaged him.

"Forgive me", he requested, a little embarrassed, "I heard you sing and I couldn't help but come here and tell you that you sing very well and that the person you dedicated the song to probably agrees with me", he replied and your shy laugh made him laugh too.

"Thank you", you offered, quite embarrassed, which was still funny, "He's my twin brother. He was eight years old when he left", you pointed to the portrait you had looked at moments before.

"My father. He passed away a couple of months ago", Charles decided to share the reason why he was also there.

"My brother had a rare blood disease, a cancer doctors were never able to identify. Chemotherapy and radiotherapy were not enough to cure him. In fact, the body of an eight-year-old boy could only handle so much at that time. I was the same age, but I will never forget my brother’s suffering and the strength he had until the end. My childhood innocence was taken from me that day. I am not an example to anyone. The true example of life left more than a decade ago, on a journey that still had a long way to go had it not ended the way it did", you said as you packed your things, letting your anger speak.

Charles noticed the crack in your voice and a few seconds later, he heard your sniffle.

The first instict he had was that he wanted to hug you in that moment and reassure you with just his arms, since words would never be enough comfort at a time like that. And at the same time, he felt that you needed to talk to someone who, being unknown and impartial, would never judge you for the anger you were experiencing.

"My father battled cancer for a few years but, unfortunately, he ended up losing the fight in July. However, the real winner is him. For so many reasons: for the way he faced the reality that was knocking on his door, for how he forced us to face it in the most positive way possible, so that it would become a little easier, and for the way he prepared us for his departure. He is a true hero. If, one day, I can be half the man and father that he was and is, you can be sure that I will leave this life happy", Charles spoke.

"They truly are the heroes who left early to prove that angels really exist", you said, looking at Charles intently in a way made him feel like an open book in front of the most beautiful reader he had ever seen in his life.

"I couldn’t agree more", Charles murmured, too caught up in the gaze of that twenty-year-old girl who was so much more like him than he had thought.

"Y/N", you held out your hand and he smiled at your introduction.

"Charles", he reciprocated, fitting his hand in yours, which you immediately shook.

And there, he knew that you were marked by the wound that would never heal and by the feeling that would never disappear: pain.

There, those two hearts that were lost in pain would be the same ones that would find each other in love.

.

Charles got up from the floor, after the usual daily conversation he shared with his father after training. He noticed you in the same position you had been in before, but this time, you were reciting poems from a small book you had in your hand, completely distracted from your surroundings.

It was the first time in almost three weeks that he had seen you again. You had stopped showing up at the same time as he did and for a moment he thought you were avoiding him. But he soon put those thoughts aside. After all, if you didn’t even know each other that well, what was the need?

“Y/N", Charles said as he approached you, alerting you of his presence.

You looked at him with a shy smile and immediately stood up as well, "I haven’t seen you around here since", he added and you laughed softly.

"In the last three weeks, I came in the morning, because of the internship I'm doing. I had to change schedules with a colleague and I couldn't come in the afternoon. Now everything is back to normal, so here I am", you explained and he nodded in understanding, "You never miss your schedule", you pointed out it was his turn to laugh.

"This is the best time for me to come because this way, I can spend more time with my father before the cemetery closes", Charles explains and you nod, "Hmm, I really like talking to you but, is it just me who thinks we're not in the best place?".

Your beautiful laugh makes him laugh too, "Without shadow of a doubt", you agreed, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear.

"I bet you're hungry", Charles assuredly and you laughed again.

"Very", you dmitted, blushing, which made him smile at your embarrassment, "the line at the bakery in front of where I work was too long and, I'm sorry, but patience has never been my strong point", you defended yourself and he giggled.

"So it's better to go without food...?", Charles quirked an eyebrow as he asked, surprised and you laughed, rolling your eyes.

"I wouldn't go without food, obviously. I was just going to have to snack something later", you shrugged.

Once you stood outside the cemetery, you looked at each other intensely, not knowing what to say, "Would you accept an invitation for a snack?", Charles gathered the courage to ask and it was your turn to laugh at his shyness.

"Yes", your positive answer made him smile.

"Do you have a car?", he asked and you said no.

"Not yet. It’s at the mechanic’s", you made a face of disgust and Charles laughed, "the good news is that my father can pick it up at the end of this week. You have no idea how much I need it for my internship", you complained and Charles smiled at you relaxed way.

"Then you’re coming with me", he invited and you thanked him.

Charles lead you to his car and you smiled in gratitude when he opened the door for you so you could get in.

"And, if you’ll allow me, can I know what you study, Y/N?", Charles asked curiously, when you were already in line at the caffè, the place being chosen by the young woman during your journey, which had been made in a silence that Charles wouldn’t consider awkward but also not very comfortable. The awkwardness was still there.

"Radiology and radiotherapy", you replied, letting out a smile, "Twelve years ago, for a few months, I followed my brother's fight and was inspired by the humanity of those doctors and the team responsible for his case. The way he was treated, the constant encouragement in his recovery, the words and friendly shoulder they gave my parents, and even me, the way they prepared us for the worst and the way they accompanied us in our mourning, was truly human and truly inspiring. And there, I decided that this was something I would like to do in the future. I want to help others like they helped me more than a decade ago", you said proudly, earning a big smile from Charles.

You were interrupted when it was your turn to make the requests and respective payment. Charles insisted on paying the entire bill and you gave in, after much insistence from his behalf.

"Next time, you'll pay", Charles promised, as you walked aimlessly through the streets of Monaco.

"Will there be a next one?", you asked, laughing and Charles couldn’t help but look away from your shy eyes, "It’s a promise, then", you added and Charles looked at you again, already looking at him with a smile.

You ended up sitting on the lawn of a garden, finally digging into your food.

"And you? Can I know what you study?", you asked, equally curious and Charles laughed, still feeling a little satisfied that you didn’t know him as a Formula One rookie.

"I’m a race driver", he told you and you looked at him in surprise.

"What category? And which team?", you asked with interest and he smiled.

"The best in the world and the biggest one in racing", he replied, not wanting to say the team's name directly, because that way he would be able to know which one she supported.

"Do you race for Ferrari?", you asked and Charles smiled broadly, happy with what he had heard.

"I was in their academy last year", Charles confirmed and you smiled.

"How come I've never seen you there?", your curiosity and interest were something that satisfied him. After all, he wasn't the only one who wanted to know more.

"I was in Formula Two with Prema", he explained and her "makes sense", spoken in English, made him laugh.

"But tell me something. Are you regular at races?", Charles asked and you nodded.

"You could say that", you both laughed, "My father and grandfather were always

big racing fans. In fact, they are. And they passed that love on to Lucas", you smiled and looked down at the ground, "The few times he wasn't in the hospital, he was at the track. What he felt for racing was something I had never seen before. It was contagious. Everyone infected Lucas and he infected me. After his death, I promised myself to accompany my father and grandfather, and even go there alone, to every race that was done there. It was, and is, a way of feeling Lucas with me. That’s why I love racing so much", you looked at him with teary eyes, letting the tears fall when Charles brought his thumb to your face, caressing it.

"I’m sorry", you murmured and he quickly denied it, so that you would know that everything was okay.

"You’re inspiring, Y/N. I hope you know that", Charles offered.

You shook your head, smiling, "No, I don't think so. I’m just an eight-year-old child, in the body of a twenty-year-old girl who cries every night, wishing her brother was by her side", you spoke, with some difficulty, and Charles swallowed hard, trying to find the right words to comfort you.

"No, Y/N. You are a young 20-year-old woman who lost her brother at the age of eight and who, even today, is learning to deal with his absence", Charles said and you quickly wiped away the tears that were falling from your eyes, unable to help but sigh heavily.

"So, tell me, how does it feel to wear red? I clearly have been focusing in specific catehorues", you asked with a smile and Charles smiles at your change of subject.

"Incredible. It is a dream come true. I have no words to thank the trust that my team put in me, and how stepping into F1, even if it's not Ferrari, is a huge sense of responsibility, after all, you’re representing one of the best teams in the sport, the best in the world for me", Charles proudly answered your question, not avoiding remembering the day he signed his first professional contract with the unspoken promise and hope of a place in the Scuderia.

"How many years has it been?", you asked.

"I've been with the best the world for a few years", you both smiled.

“We could go watch the historic race this Saturday on the track just outside the city", you invited Charles and he smiled at you initiative, not hesitating to nod.

“I was already thinking of going, but now I’m really going to", Charles answered and you blushed.

"Can you give me your phone number so we can arrange things better?", Charles asked, feeling brave enough to do so, and you nodded.

You exchanged contact details and chatted a little longer until you were interrupted by the ringing of your phone. Charles waited for the call to end and returned the smile you gave him.

"Typical motherly concern", you explained, and Charles laughed, nodding along

"I know how it feels", he commented and it was your turn to smile

"Since my brother passed away, my mother, who was already overprotective, has become even more so. I don’t blame her for that, quite the opposite. I have learned to deal with it and I don’t make her life harder, I have a very open relationship with my mother. My first academic choice was not Monaco, but in Montpellier", you said as Charles made such curiosity known and looked at you, "But the truth is that I couldn’t even finish the first semester in the city because I couldn’t stand being alone. It was as if the pain multiplied by mixing with the loneliness that I felt. We were so close that I couldn’t separate the pain of having to leave for one of my dreams. I wasn’t prepared for the nights when nightmares haunted me and the absence of my brother was felt more than ever. So, I asked my parents to come and get me and I moved back to Monaco, where it didn't get easier but it wasn’t as difficult as being alone. Since my brother left, we’ve gotten even closer. But the first few days were the hardest. My mother became depressed, my father closed himself off a bit more and, at the age of twelve, I let myself be suffocated by the feelings I had no one to talk to, until my father learned to deal with the pain and helped us do the same. Someone needed to get back on their feet and help others get back on their feet too, and my father was my hero. We sought out the best psychologists for my mother and her progress was very positive, but in truth, what she was doing, and rightly so, was mourning the loss of the most real, pure and true love in the world. She was mourning the death of her son. And she did it in the only way she knew how. Today, we continue to do it, but we do it differently. And if people now talk and watch us go about our day to day lives, it's not because it no longer hurts - because it hurts a lot - it's because we've learned to embrace pain and deal with it. We hold its hand. I think the learning process is lifelong. And I'm going to die, still learning how to deal with it", you said, and the impact of your words prompt Charles to shed a tear, which was joined by all the others, for all the memories that hit him.

"I miss him so much", Charles whispered, avoiding your gaze.

Just out of the corner of his eye, Charles could see you get closer to him, smiling faintly when you pulled him into a hug he didn't hesitate in joining.

You fit perfectly on his chest, head nestled there as he hugged you by your waist, enveloping you and kissing the top of your head without a hitch.

And in that first touch of many, you got to know eachother through the way you both knew so well - pain. And right there, without knowing, you started another one - love.

.

Charles was coming home after another training session, the last one before the charity race he was participating in which would take place the next day at ten in the morning. Today was also the historic race day, the race he would watch with you, after meeting up every day that week at your usual spot - although it wasn’t the happiest, you always ended up going to different places in the capital city, where you took the opportunity to get to know each other better.

"Charles", he heard his mother call out and smiled, going to meet the woman who was preparing dinner.

"Hi, maman”, he kissed her hair and bent down a little so she could kiss his cheek, “I'm sorry, I forgot to tell you", he looked at her with a guilty expression, "I'm not going to have dinner at home", he continued, enjoying the meat she was cooking that smelled very good.

"It's all right", Pascale smiled, "you're going to watch the historic race with Joris and Riccardo, aren't you?", she asked, as they were usually his company.

"Well, about that..", Charles mumbled, scratching the back of his neck in a gesture of confusion that didn't go unnoticed by the oldest in the room.

"Charles Marc Hervé Perceval! What aren't you telling me?", his mother asked, genuinely curious, and he laughed out loud when she turned off the stove and crossed her arms, waiting for him to start talking.

"I'm going with a girl", he started and saw her smile grow at the information he had given her, "her name is Y/N. She is twenty years old and is a final-year student in the radiology and radiotherapy course. Unfortunately, we did not meet under happy circumstances, but the time we have spent together has allowed us to create and experience moments that go beyond that", he explained, avoiding his mother’s gaze to hide his slight embarrassment.

"Where did you meet?", Pascale wanted to know.

"At the cemetery. It was during one of the visits I paid to papa, three weeks ago. She lost her twin brother to a rare blood disease that doctors were never able to identify. Y/N was eight years old when he passed away. I have never related with anyone as much as I did with her. She understands me. In fact, we understand each other. She is simply beautiful in every way", Charles shrugged, not avoiding a smile as he remembered you.

"Charles, is it just me or are you in love?", his mother asked with a smile as she hugged him, fitting into his arms.

"It’s not possible, maman. Only this week that we’ve gotten closer", he replied, not avoiding a nervous laugh.

Pascale laughed, "and since when did that stop you from feeling something for that young woman? Charles, amour, it’s not the time of things but the intensity with which we experience them", she wisely advised and Charles nodded, smiling weakly.

"Thank you for everything, maman. Je t'aime", he whispered against her hair, leaving a kiss there.

"Never forget that you, as well as your brothers, are my pride and the light of my eyes. Je t'aime, Charles", Pascale spoke.

Charles held his mothee on his arms, wanting her to be aware of the infinite gratitude he felt for her.

Pascale pulled away, wiping her tears, and smiled at Charles, "Come on, I don’t want you like this!", Charles asked and she laughed, waving.

"I’m fine", his mother assured, "Now go take a shower and get ready so you don’t keep the girl waiting. I’ll make you a bowl of cereal, so you can eat something before you go", she warned and smiled, getting a kiss on her forehead.

"You’re the best!!", Charles exclaimed, leaving the room, and she laughed.

"I know!", she said, laughing, and Charles laughed at her expression.

Once he got to his bedroom, Charles chose a presentable outfit, wanting to dress appropriately and blend in with all of the fans and enjoy the race that was probably one of the last moments before everything flooded in. The PR team had already warned him that once he was in Formula One, everything changed and he hoped he could have this evening.

He ran to the bathroom, took a quick and relaxing shower, and got dressed without rushing, making sure he looked his best. After that, he went back to the kitchen, where his mother was still, finishing the preparations for dinner.

“Since I didn’t have any company for the meal, I invited your cousins”, she said.

Charles gave her a guilty smile, "I'm really sorry, maman", he spoke sincerely, and it was her turn to laugh, shaking her head.

“It’s okay, Charles, I was just kidding. I want you to go and enjoy Y/N's company. I haven't even met her yet and I already like her", she commented.

"Oh really? Why is that?", Charles wondered, really interested.

"Why? Because every time you talk about her, it's impossible for you not to smile. And I like that", she admitted and he blushed, hearing his mother giggle at his shyness.

"Maman!", he mumbled and the older woman laughed.

"What's wrong?", she asked, pretending not to notice as her son rolled his eyes, laughing.

"I knew I shouldn't have said anything, I should've stayed quiet", Charles complained and she laughed out loud.

"As if I wouldn't eventually find out, Charles", she winked, convinced, and Charles laughed at the joviality that characterized his mother, even after everything that life had put her through.

They were closer than ever and he felt very comfortable sharing any kind of subject with her, she was his best friend and the best thing in his world.

"I really have to go", Charles announced, looking at his watch, making sure he wouldn’t be late.

"Do you have everything with you, amour?”, she asked and he looked at her confused.

“Yes, why?”, Charles answered with another question, while he set the bowl of cereal in the sink.

"Are you sure?", she insisted and he snorted, patting his pockets and checking that nothing was missing.

"I have everything", he replied, kissing her forehead as a way of saying goodbye, "I'll see you later. Je t'aime!", he shouted from the living room and heard her laugh.

"Do you have the condoms with you?", Pascale asked, giggling, and Charles almost choked on his own saliva.

He couldn't believe it.

"Seriously, maman?", he made himself heard out loud.

"Do you think I'm stupid, Charles? I too was a young woman your age once. And I'm too young to be a grandmother!", she said, coming to meet him at the door, and she couldn't help but laugh when she saw his embarrassment.

"I'm leaving!", Charles exclaimed, leaving a last kiss on her cheek and walking all the way to the car while laughing, knowing his mother never missed the opportunity and had a great ability to embarrass her own son.

Charles got in the car and drove off towards your house which, even after a week, continued to leave him astonished by the external beauty that set it apart from the others in the same neighborhood. He sent you a quick text letting you know that he was already waiting for you and, about three minutes later, he heard a door slam, looking in the direction of the noise and not helping but smile when he saw how you were dressed appropriately for the race.

"Wow, yes, we have a racing fan", he complimented and the brunette giggle.

You were dressed in a vintage jacket, an allusive cap with the peak turned backwards and the rest of the outfit complimented it.

The rest of the journey to the track was transformed into a karaoke session, "tell me if we don't make an unbeatable singing duo", you joked as you walked towards the interior of the building where you would be sitting.

"Like society hasn't seen in many years", Charles joined in your joke and you laughed

Charles put his right hand on your shoulder, hugging you and guided you through the crowd so that you wouldn’t lose each other. He heard his name being called and two kids running towards him, making you stop walking. He greetd them with a smile and they ask for a photo that would be the responsibility of the woman who was waiting for them to position themselves, "your girlfriend can also join the portrait", the oldest women pointed to you, and you couldn't help but blush, making Charles smile sideways when he noticed such a thing.

"We're not-", Charles didn't let you finish.

"Come here, Y/N", he asked and the lady waved, heading towards you.

After the photos were taken, the kids thanked Charles, immediately disappearing from our sight, "Do you want to see something around here or would you rather go inside now?", Charles chatted up while you tried to show yourself less embarrassed.

He couldn't help but admit that he was enjoying seeing you like that and, more than that, knowing that he was the one that made you feel that way.

"We can go inside, since race time is very close", you preferred and Charles nodded, placing his hand on the small of your back, leading you to the entrance.

You greeted the various security guards who were there and headed to the place that your tickets indicated. Because Charles belonged in a professional driving championship, he was entitled to the VIP stands.

"Wow", you exclaimed, truly enchanted by the view you had of the track, which was undergoing the final touches before opening its doors to the public.

"Have you never been here before?", Charles asked and saw you deny it, while remaining astonished, appreciating the atmosphere around you.

"Only for a visit when Lucas was with us, never when there was an actual race happening. This is going to be great", you finally looked at him, offering him a smile, "thank you, Charles", you spoke and he acknowledged the sincerity of your words, smiling at you broadly.

“You’re welcome", he downplayed the situation, just hoping you would feel good, "I don’t know if you drink, but would you like a beer? Or perhaps some wine?", he asked and you laughed.

“I don’t usually drink, but today I can make an exception", you accepted and Charles smiled.

“Are you sure? You have every right to say no" he made it clear and you laughed, denying it.

“Seriously, Charles, we can go", you insisted and he waved, giving you space so you could go ahead of him.

The crowd there was huge, but that didn't stop you from drinking and snacking before the race started.

"The teams are getting ready", Charles said as you finished our drinks and you waved, standing up and opening your wallet to take out the money.

"Hey you! What are you doing?", Charles quickly intervened, placing his hand on yours to stop your movements.

"Charles, what did you promise? 'You'll pay next time', that's what you said", you imitated his tone of voice and you burst out laughing.

"Can't you wait until next time?", he insisted and you gave him a death glare, making Charles realise there wasn't much he could do.

"Okay then", he gave in and you giggled smugly.

You went back to your seats after you paid, watching everyone get ready for the race.

"Do you have a favourite driver?", Charles wondered.

"I don't think so. Each one has something to offer to the races, and it's not like many of them are here", you spoke before seeing Lewis Hamilton approach one of the cars.

A song came on and you pulled Charles to dance with you, singing in his ear as he smiled, tightening his grip on your waist. "Now comes the part that no one knows how to sing", you added, moving away from Charles a little and he could notice your shyness, most likely because of the action you had done before.

You danced awkwardly, which earned you a couple of looks, and stopped when the announcer of the track, already full, made himself heard, announcing the race was about to start.

"I love this part", you smiled, getting a kiss from Charles on the hair that was not covered by your cap.

The race started out well and everything seemed to be going as they hoped, the announcer mentioning some facts they had about the historic race.

"THAT'S AN OVERTAKE!", you shouted and the entire section stood up, celebrating yet another great move from Lewis.

You screamed euphorically, pulling Charles into a quick hug, before joining in the celebrations with the rest of the fans.

This girl was out of this world, Charles thought.

"I've never seen a girl like you", he said, automatically enchanted by you.

"That's because I'm an exclusive edition", you joked and you both laughed, "Is that good?", you asked seriously.

Charles returned your gaze, nodding, "Very. You're different from everyone I've ever met", he admitted and you smiled, looking away from him.

"Good. That way, I don't have to worry about them", you shrugged.

Charles smiled, satisfied with the answer you had given him, "Come here" he asked in an act of courage, hugging you while you rested your head on his chest and focusing your attention on the race.

When the race ended for a break until the next one, you took the opportunity to go to the bathroom, while Charles chose to do the same.

Since he was quicker than you, given that the line was shorter, he waited for you outside, where there was a line of young people who were looking at him curiously.

"Finally", Charles muttered to himself as he watched you leave the compartment.

"What happened? Were you feeling watched over?", you made fun and he stuck his tongue out at you, pulling you closer to him. "Watched over?! It seemed like the girls were undressing me with their eyes", he accused.

"That was most likely exactly what was happening", you confirmed and he looked at you in shock, which made you laugh again, "What?! You can't judge them!", you argued.

Charles laughed, honestly pleased with what he had heard, "Oh really? Have you also undressed me with your eyes?", he whispered in youe ear.

"No, I prefer to do it with my hands", you murmured against his mouth and walked ahead of him, leaving him perplexed.

Well, take that, Charles, his subconscious spoke and he chuckled - the ability you had to leave him speechless was unbelievable. Noticing the faces you were making, he decided to return to your seats, where you were already dividing your attention between your cell phone and the track.

"What are you watching?", Charles asked, moving closer to you to observe what you were watching, spending some time watching the silliness and fun on her screen.

"The game is going to start again", Charles said as you quickly turned off the electronic device and hugged his waist, while you paid attention.

"What is he doing to Lewis?", Charles complained.

"Do not play around with him!", you joined.

"Maybe there's a favourite after all?", Charles teased you.

"Maybe, he is very skilled and handsome", you shrugged.

"Oh, good", Charles murmured, feeling a pang of jealousy at the way you had spoken about the driver.

Your laugh made him realize that you had noticed, "Charles, are you jealous?", you mocked and he rolled his eyes, avoiding looking at you.

"I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t know that word", he shrugged, trying to make you forget the subject but you didn’t give in.

Instead, you brought your hand to his face, making him look at you, "I’m here with you, aren’t I?", you asked seriously and he smiled weakly, nodding along, "So it’s not Lewis that interests me", you concluded, paying attention to the track again.

Charles sighed, pulling you closer to him, a gesture that made you smile.

Once the race ended, you headed towards the outside, trying to avoid the confusion as much as possible.

"Shall we eat something?", Charles asked you, intertwining your fingers, and you smiled shyly at him, which made him chuckle.

"Please!", you agreed and laughed out loud. "Suggestions?", he asked and you looked thoughtful.

"The center might not be a good idea because it must be full after this", you ruled out, "that new panini shop?", you suggested and he agreed.

You got in the car and headed towards the shop, ordering it to go and Charles ended up choosing a nice spot that overviewed the city.

"Tomorrow I'm going to race", he began, "I know it's not your tradition, but I'd like for you to come watch", he invited and you smiled.

"I'll be there", you agreed and it was his turn to smile, "At what time is it?", you wondered.

"At 10:00 in the morning. I know it's Sunday but...", Charles trailed off.

"Tomorrow, at that time, I'll be there to support you", you promised and he thanked you.

Charles parked the car and you got out of the vehicle, enjoying the fresh night air, which was quite pleasant. He cleaned his shirt and pants again and heard you laugh as you came closer to help him with the crumbs.

"Clumsy", you criticized jokingly, and he stuck his tongue out at you.

You sat down on one of the benches that were there and you sighed, making Charles look in your direction.

"How peaceful", you whispered, while keeping your eyes closed and a small smile on your lips.

"Monaco is really beautiful", Charles said, hearing you agree with a small murmur.

You took off your cap and tried to fix you hair, making Charles laugh.

"Let me help you", he gently asked and you turned to him, letting him fix the rebelliousness that characterized you.

As soon as he finished, he continued to caress them, which made you close you eyes to enjoy the affection.

"Kiss me", you murmured and he looked at you in surprise.

"What?", Charles asked, trying to understand if he had heard correctly.

"Kiss me, Charles", you repeated.

"Can I?", still astonished, he wanted to make sure.

"You should", you replied as Charles smiled at your answer and pulled you towards him, appreciating the serenity of your face.

"Finally", Charles whispered against your mouth before finally placing your lips together for the first time - of many, he hoped.

You allowed his tongue to enter your mouth when he silently asked for permisson and he intensified your kiss, truly surrendering to you.

And in eachother's lips, you discovered the path to peace, the one you both had lost years before with the pain that had overwhelmed you.

.

You woke up to the sound of the alarm clock, quickly getting up, not wanting to be late for Charles' race,

"Y/N, dear?", you heard the surprise in you mother's voice and couldn't help but laugh. "Hi, mama", you said, giving her permission to come in, and she did so.

"Are you going to tell me why you're up at this hour? Of all people, you who hibernates all weekend!", she joked and you stuck out your tongue, which made her laugh.

"I just felt like getting up, that's all", you said briefly, as you looked through your closet, looking for the most presentable, yet comfortable, clothes possible.

"And why are you going to dress so nicely if you're going to spend the whole day at home?", she mused, suspiciously, and you laughed at her curiosity.

"Okay, mama, you win", you eventually gave in and she celebrated, which made you laugh out loud.

"I'm going to watch the charity race", you said and her curious look made you realize that her questions were only at the beggining.

"Who's your boyfriend from there?", she didn't hesitate to ask and you looked at her, shocked etched on your face.

"Why do I have to have a boyfriend to watch the race?", you asked, astonished and she looked at you with an expression that said to not mess with her.

"Your mother is old but she's not stupid, Y/N", she scolded, laughing and you followed.

"Mama, you are forty-eight years old. You are a young woman", you complimented her, trying to make her drop about the subject and the older woman laughed.

"Yes, yes, sweetheart. Now the question I asked you", she insisted and you laughed, shaking your head.

"I don't have a boyfriend, mama. But I have a friend who would like me to go and I'm going", you told her and the smile she gave you made you blush.

"Name?", she wanted to know and you snorted, making her laugh.

"How annoying", you rumbled and she laughed again, "Charles".

"Then I hope this Charles takes care of you or the wooden spoon will fly", she threatened and you couldn't help but laugh with her.

"You're amazing, mama", you replied and she laughed, coming towards you and kissing your forehead.

"I just want you to be happy", she muttered, while caressing your face and smiling.

"I am", you assured her and she smiled, before walking away, leaving you alone again. You ran to the private bathroom and took a quick shower, leaving it shortly after so you could get ready in time. You applied some light makeup and dried your hair, leaving it in its natural waves.

You went down the stairs, passing through the living room, patting Simba on the head, the old Labrador who had always been with you, and whose name was based on Lucas' favorite movie.

"Good morning", you greeted your parents, although you had already spoken to your mother.

"Up so early, my dear?", your father was surprised and you looked at my mother, who was already looking at you with a suggestive smile that made you roll you

[utilitycaster]

i keep seeing people say that OF COURSE Bell Hell's haven't grown or changed, it's only been 3 months in campaign! and it's been nonstop! and every time I see that, I gotta admit 1. okay so you admit they haven't grown, cool. 2. that feels like a watsonian answer to a not-quite-watsonian complaint. iirc, m9 were only a few months longer than BH by the time their campaign ended, and it's been pretty comparable irl time. Both bell's bells and m9 had significantly less 'in world' time than vm and the m9 grew and changed plenty.

Because there's a discrepancy between 'time in game' and 'time at the table' for actual play, using 'in game' time as an excuse for...anything, feels thin. Because it still FEELS like three years both to us and the players! Does that make any sense or am i losing my mind? cause every time i see answers like that I feel a little crazy for feeling like it's almost entirely unrelated to complaint they're trying to address

No, it makes complete sense. I discussed this here as well but on some level it's like ok so they haven't changed! Turns out they suck, and the fact that they haven't changed means we have a party that still sucks. Like, if your point is "I don't like this character trait", someone saying "well it makes sense for them to have it" doesn't fix the core problem of you not liking it. This is a repeated problem in discussions in this campaign. I think Liliana dying would have been narratively interesting; I literally give zero fucks whether it's deserved, because she isn't real and I'm not a believer in Calvinism nor instant karma in real life and plenty of people die for unfair reasons and I happen to really enjoy exploring that and how people respond to it in fiction. You can't have a conversation with someone who, when you say "I'm not a big fan of vanilla ice cream, do you have chocolate?" says "but vanilla is literally a complex flavor made from orchids?" (Also yes, the Mighty Nein are a great example of a party who were already more closely bonded about a month and a half in, following Molly's death; the entire campaign was almost a year long though a bit shorter in terms of time together due to Happy Fun Ball time dilation. For reference, Bells Hells have been together 4 months and 5 days, and the Mighty Nein, at that exact same amount of time, were exploring the second Uk'otoa temple, and a number of them were already rethinking their whole deal at that point.)

I don't currently have any original posts to make re: criticism of Campaign 3 until next episode, most likely - I'm reblogging well-made posts I see, and obviously I'm answering asks, but I said this more briefly in the tags of another post earlier and I'd like to elaborate, but this has been a problem for me, at least, the entire campaign:

Campaign 3 has a small but loud contingent of fans who are utterly incapable of tolerating the idea that other people hold different opinions than they do and post them on their own blogs (often even not in the main tag). They respond to this with abuse and harassment; with a constant switching of direction to the point of self-contradiction; and with doubling and tripling down on statements I personally find to be bigoted. They are, in my opinion, small-minded, unintelligent, self-absorbed people who are so locked into, as I said here, an Us vs. Them mentality that so long as there is anyone who doesn't like them they will never be happy. They have gotten, narratively, almost everything they wanted thus far, but they'll never be happy so long as someone openly disagrees with them. Like, if the fact that your ship is the most popular one for this campaign on ao3 is so important to you, why are you so pressed about a few people disliking it? If liking Campaign 3 means you're a good anticolonial leftist and you're therefore allowed as a white person to mock the experiences of any nonwhite person actively dealing with the consequences of colonialism why do you need the support of The Bad People Who Don't Like It? If you can be broken by anything less than universal adoration, then, well. Break, bitch.

Essentially, think "the personality of Elon Musk in a broke 20-something whose main interests are cartoons aimed at a grade school audience, and a three sentence incorrect summary of Marxist theory that they use to justify whatever they already wanted to do," and you'll get the picture.

My advice therefore is that it's not really worth arguing, and frankly, there would be little to no discourse if they weren't so pathetically insecure that a post saying "The structure, pacing, and message of Campaign 3 are all weak and inconsistent, and Bells Hells have so little motivation they fail to be heroes, villains, nor antiheroes" sends them into an extended tantrum because the OP didn't append the words "I think" or "I feel" at the beginning of every statement, as most of us assume any reasonable adult would understand that a person posting on their own blog is posting their own opinions. (And, frankly, appending those words doesn't really help half the time because most of them are ultimately mostly outraged that someone would dare think or feel things that they don't.)

I am making posts about my thoughts on Campaign 3; I think most other people with criticism thereof are doing so as well. I will only be convinced otherwise by Campaign 3 itself being better, and I think it's probably too late for it to do so, and I will not be swayed nor intimidated by people who, see previous paragraphs re: my thoughts. My advice to you and anyone who's saying "wait a second" is to trust your gut; everything you said here seems like a pretty good assessment. If it helps, back away from the fandom and see what you feel without the influence of others (including me!) posting, and go with that.

[babydollslibrary]

MEAN — ALEX TURCOTTE

alex turcotte x fem!reader

published: July 16th, 2023

summary: in which y/n opens up to Alex about the hate she’s been receiving from his fans

GIF by anzekopistar

y/nonthegram

liked by _alexturcotte, trevorzegras, and 7,297 others

y/nonthegram on a date and our waiter called me a bitch… anyone know what number i can call to complain?

tagged _alexturcotte and trevorzegras

user47 awww they went to dux in tux to support trevor!

_alexturcotte my girl 🖤

y/nonthegram my boy 🤍

user16 thank god she didn’t show her face

trevorzegras sorry, we don’t take complaints 🙅‍♂️ only compliments 💁‍♂️

y/nonthegram that feels very unprofessional

trevorzegras who ever said i was professional? 🤔

jackhughes my boys! looking dapper! and y/n!

y/nonthegram this is y/nphobic

jackhughes i acknowledged you, didn’t i?

y/nonthegram barely

colecaufield@/y/nonthegram i’ll acknowledge you! you look beautiful, y/n!

y/nonthegram @/colecaufield thank you! at least someone appreciates me!

user63 well… trevor wasn’t very far off

user77 have you ever even met her? she’s literally the nicest person ever

user21 she gives mean girl bitch vibes so idc

user98 impatiently waiting for him to dump her

user30 honestly, if he cheats on her on a roadie… would anyone really be upset?

user52 i know i wouldn’t! i think all of us are just praying on their downfall. like, he could do so much better

***

my eyes sting, locked to my phone screen. my hearing is muffled, drowning out the sound of my boyfriend and his best friend just feet away from me.

they sit on the coffee table in front of me, NHL 23 displayed on the tv. they shout curses at each other and the tv, trying their hardest to win for their respective teams on the video game. but my focus is solely on the comments of my most recent instagram post.

all i wanted to do was show off my boyfriend of five years. but his fans were being so mean.

it was nothing new. these comments happened on nearly every post i made. whether they were insulting my looks, or saying Alex deserved better, i could never please them.

usually, i only let myself look at the comments for a moment before deleting them altogether, but today was already a hard mental health day and these comments were hitting me where it hurts. i can’t help but dwell on them longer than usual. today they took my worst fear, and used it as a ‘what if?’ scenario, one of the meanest things they’ve ever done.

i sniffle, standing from the couch. shuffling quickly past my boyfriend, my head hanging low to try and hide my tears as i make my way to our bedroom, shutting myself in the darkened room, the only light being that of the setting california sun peeking through the curtains on the windows.

i crawl up our bed, burrowing myself in a cocoon of blankets and pillows, and turn my phone back on, scrolling through the comments once more. this time, i let my tears flow freely, silent sobs racking my body.

all the comments on my body, my insecurities and flaws, my relationship, even some accusing me of cheating on Alex with our friends. it’s one blow after another, each one cutting deeper than the last.

a loud cry escapes my lips and i clap a hand over my mouth, squeezing my eyes shut and holding my breath; praying to whatever higher power that Alex and Trevor didn’t overhear me from the living room.

my prayers go unanswered when our bedroom door creaks open, the light switch being flipped on, and two sets of footsteps enter the bedroom.

“hey, sweet girl.” i bury my head deeper under the blanket at the sound of my boyfriend’s voice. “you wanna show me that pretty face?”

his gentle tone brings even more tears to my eyes and despite knowing he can’t see me, i shake my head.

“y/n? are you okay?” Trevor asks softly. i feel them both sit on the bed as i hum out a ‘mhm’.

“you sure?” Trevor questions.

“why won’t you let us see you, then?” Alex asks. a hand finds my back, rubbing it soothingly, and the soft touch causes me to let out another cry. i hear some muffled whispering before someone rises from the bed.

“i’m gonna leave you guys to talk, i’ll see you tomorrow.” Trevor announces. “y/n, if you need me, just call and i’ll come right over.”

i hear his footsteps retreating, the bedroom door falling shut behind him before my boyfriend’s hand leaves my back, coming up on the blankets and pulling it down to reveal my tear stained face.

“hey, what wrong, baby?” his eyes are filled with worry, concern dripping from his words like honey. “why are you crying, sweet girl?”

“i’m fine.” i choke and he obviously sees straight through my lie.

“if you were fine, you wouldn’t be crying.” he shifts his body, moving to lay down next to me on the bed. his arm wraps around my waist, pulling me in close, and on instinct, i throw my thigh over his abdomen. his hand comes up to play with my hair, the tips of his fingers scratching my scalp in a calming manner.

“you wanna tell me what’s got my girl so upset?” he questions. he knows he has me in the palm of his hand. he knows exactly what to do to ease my mind and make me feel safe.

“comments.” i whisper into his chest, muttered by lips against his shirt.

“hmm?” he hums. my eyes flicker up to see his brows pulled down in confusion.

“instagram comments.” i clarify, sniffling and wiping at my nose with my hand. “some of your fans aren’t very nice.”

“wait what?” he asks. his hands pause their actions and he pulls my face back to look me in the eyes. “what are you talking about?”

“i didn’t wanna say anything. you love your fans and some of them are so sweet.” i sigh.

his expression is one of betrayal and disappointment. this is exactly why i kept this all from him. he loves his fans so much, i know he would never want to hear that some of them are so cruel.

“y/n, what are they saying?”

“just mean things. things i’d rather not repeat.” i unlock my phone, the screen still on the hate comments of my latest post, and hand it to him, letting him see them for himself.

“what the fuck?” he murmurs to himself. “why have i never seen these?”

“i usually delete them right away.” i confess. “i never wanted you to see them.”

“baby, you should’ve told me about these. these are cruel.” he scrolls through the comments, deleting every comment that isn’t necessarily considered nice.

“i know, but your fans make you so happy. i never wanted to take that from you.” i cry, burying my face in his chest.

“but you make me happier.” his hand rests on my head, the other rubbing my back. “you make me so much happier than they ever could.”

“it just hurts. it didn’t used to hurt this much, but after so long, the comments are getting to me.” i sob. “i just wanna feel okay again.”

“hey, you know nothing they said is true, right? you’re beautiful, and sweet, and the best thing to ever happen to me. you’re the smartest, most thoughtful, kindhearted, loving girl i’ve ever met. and i would never do anything to jeopardize what we have. i would never even think about even entertaining the idea of sleeping with anyone on a roadie, you know that, don’t you?”

i nod my head, sniffling. i raise my head to look at him, his eyes glassy as he wipes my tears.

“i love them, but i love you so much more. and they’re clearly not fans of mine if they think it’s okay to say shit like this about you, let alone to you.”

my insecurities get the best of me and i can’t help but question.

“you’re sure you’re not sick of me?” i whisper.

“you ever looked in my nightstand?” he asks, my eyebrows furrow in confusion and i shake my head.

“not recently, no.” i don’t understand his question, or what it has to do with mine.

he pushes me off of him, my heart sinking in my chest.

this is it.

he’s decided we’re done.

i don’t know what i’ll do without him.

he leans over his side of the bed, shuffling around in his nightstand drawer for a moment before turning back to me, something clasped in his hand.

“i had a more romantic plan, i swear i did. i had a whole speech planned, but my mom said that i should do this when it feels right. and now feels right.”

my eyes widen, my breath going shaky as i consider what he could possibly be meaning in this moment.

i sit up quickly in the bed, as he reveals a black ring box in his hands, opening it to reveal a gorgeous diamond ring.

my hands rise shakily to my parted lips, more tears gathering in my eyes as they flicker between him and the ring.

“you asked if i’m sure, and i hope that this ring shows you that i’m absolutely positive. i can’t imagine a life without you. i can’t imagine what my life would’ve been like if you hadn’t called me a ‘stupid waste-of-a-pretty-face hockey player’ when we were sixteen.”

“all you got from that was ‘pretty’.” i let out a choked laugh through my tears.

“and i’m so glad i did, because that one word was all it took for me to fall to my knees. to chase after you and annoy you for an entire year until you agreed to go out with me. and now i never want to live a life without you.

“you’re my biggest supporter, my favorite person in the world, and the only girl i ever want. i love your kind soul, and the way your smile brightens my day. i love your beautiful eyes and the way you laugh over my dumbest jokes. i love that you fought for us to stay together, even when i wasn’t sure if we would work after i was drafted. i love that you dance in the kitchen when you cook, and the way you romanticize every part of our every day lives. i love that you refuse to go to bed angry, and that you sing in the shower and make me duet you. i love you, for everything you are, and everything you will be. and i would love to spend the rest of our lives together, if you’ll marry me.”

i can’t even get a response past my lips, opting to tackle him instead, nearly knocking us off the bed. but Alex’s quick thinking saves the moment, swaying us sideways instead to land on our sides on the mattress.

i straddle his waist, knocking him on his back as my lips glide along his face, peppering kisses on his cheeks, forehead, nose, chin, anywhere i can reach, before settling on his lips.

i pour all of my emotions into this kiss, filled with love and happiness, joy and affection. i suckle his bottom lip as i pull back to look into his eyes, a large grin taking up the bottom half of my face.

“is that a yes?” he chuckles, a hand resting on my lower back, the other still gripping the ring box.

“that’s a yes.” i nod excessively, holding my left hand out for him. he smiles widely, making quick work of removing the engagement ring from the box and sliding it onto my finger.

“i love you so much.” i tell him, grasping his face in my hands as i lower my lips to his once more.

***

y/nonthegram

liked by _alexturcotte, jackhughes, and 11,759 others

y/nonthegram i said yes <3

tagged _alexturcotte

comments on this post have been limited

jackhughes HE DID IT?! WITHOUT US?! WHAT HAPPENED TO THE PLAN?!

y/nonthegram plan?

jackhughes i mean.. i’m so happy for you guys! i knew you guys were meant for each other!

y/nonthegram thank you rowdy!

_alexturcotte thanks bro!

trevorzegras HELL YEAH BRO! LOCK HER DOWN! SO HAPPY FOR YOU LOVEBIRDS!

y/nonthegram thanks Z! celebration lunch tomorrow?

trevorzegras just txt me the deets, doll!

_alexturcotte thanks bro, and thanks for keeping the secret, even though you usually have loose lips

trevorzegras@/_alexturcotte i resent that

colecaufield MY BEST FRIENDS ARE GETTING MARRIED!! CONGRATS YOU GUYS 🍾🎉🥳🥂💍

y/nonthegram thank you coley! 😙🤍

_alexturcotte thank you cole!

_quinnhughes when did you grow up? stop growing up! i’m happy for you two, but jeez y/n, i could’ve sworn you were still fourteen and stalking practices yesterday!

y/nonthegram hey! i never stalked practices! i simply liked to observe the sport!

y/nonthegram but thank you quinny 🤍 you’ll be my man of honor, right?

_quinnhughes it would be my pleasure, y/n/n

jackhughes hey! why is QUINN your man of honor and not me?!

y/nonthegram because if it’s you then you’re gonna wear a dress. you wanna be man of honor?

jackhughes ya know what? i’ll let Quinn be your man of honor. you’ve known him longest, so it’s only fair.

y/nonthegram that’s what i thought

lhughes_06 congratulations guys!! engagement party at the lake house?!

y/nonthegram engagement party at the lake house!

[writinganon1]

*Deep inhale*

YOU 🙂🫵 are responsible for your internet interactions. Internet safety is a thing that’s usually taught in school, so idk pay attention more in class ig. But let’s review!

If you see something that makes you uncomfortable what do you do?

LEAVE! 🏃‍♀️💨

If the person you are following makes you be like “ayo this is not something i vibe with🖐️😒” then block them or do something equivalent. Not to mention that you can actually go into your tumblr settings and to some degree control what you see so long as it’s tagged. If you don’t want to do that, the just unfollow the blog, but check in every now and again to see if a new comic part has been posted. That way you still get see what you’re comfortable with, without reading all the asks

And little baby anon I get it. The internet is scary sometimes, but so are the halls of middle and high school? I learned just about everything I know from the lunch table and during my gym class. I don’t think there’s anything here that you won’t hear in school or on the streets. Again, use the magical block or unfollow button

Further more, Coko is an adult mKay? It says so right in the blogs bio thingmajig. Because of this Coko can post whatever the heck they want! I’m also an adult so I’ll also post what I want. And the same logic goes for you little anon. You can post whatever you want and block whoever you want because you’re a person and you have free will. Right now tumblr is one of the few places people can post whatever they want without it being censored because of community guidelines to my knowledge. Words, ideas and the like.

(Things such as sex, blood, murder, cum, I’m pretty sure Donatello is a bottom and he enjoys being there, Kendra is a top and she enjoys being there even more than Don enjoys being the bottom)

See what I mean? Be aware of that as you use this app. It’s freeing for most people, so expect lots to use their free will and say their brain thoughts.

I can’t stress enough to just leave if you’re not sitting comfortably with what’s being posted. The FOMO you may feel from not reading the asks is better than sitting with a uneasy gut feeling but continuing to read/ follow because you still like the story that’s being told

It’s not my job to like stand up and preach internet safety. So I’ll leave you with this. No one here is truly responsible for what YOU see. You have curated your own feed. Although the tumblr algorithm sucks, it still kinda works. A person doesn’t post to make people uncomfortable ( usually), they post to post and you happened to come across it. That’s not the posters fault. Same goes for reblogs. If I reblog , it’s because I like something. If that reblog makes someone else uncomfy, it’s not really my fault. I didn’t intend for that to happen, but more importantly, I can’t really control who sees it because my blog is public

Just like in the real world, there are people you would want to hang out with and people you wouldn’t. There are also some people you wouldn’t mind hanging out with sometimes. The same applies to tumblr blogs. Choose to follow who you vibe with and creepily watch the other blogs or something idk. You have a unique power to block and control what you see here that you can’t use in real life interactions! USE IT!

Anon if you see this, this isn’t meant to degrade you or make you feel stupid. It’s a learning experience and it’s better you learn it this way than like accidentally seeing like porn or something. Anyways, don’t feel bad everyone learns somehow. Talk to your parents or trusted adults for tips and whatnot because internet safety is nearly as important as regular safety these days. I sound like an old lady but seriously take the time to understand how the app you are using works and decide whether or not you should keep using it

⚡️Kachow⚡️I gotta finish my homework now

Holy cow that was a lot longer than I expected it to be

Yk what else is a lot longer than you’d expect it to be 😉

Hey, I don't want to be *that* person and all, but please remain aware that the majority of your audience is likely minors and you're kind of influencing inappropriate behavior (I apologize if this came off rude, just wanted to point it out as I'm mildly uncomfortable by this).

Mmm I do forget a LOT mainly cause I don’t give a shit half the time bout what I post

Welp

[dizzybizz]

some magma pages from the past few days <333

@polyphonial, @2sc4rghost, @seasonalberries and @eternal-moss (oh yeah my brother also contributed a bit)

💞💖💕💓💗💘💝❤🧡💛💚💙���🤎🖤🤍

[icewindandboringhorror]

Apparently I can meet my goal of roughly 400,000 words in 6 months if I just somehow write at least 2,200 words a day ghbjh... Almost 2,500 today... huzzah...

[life-is-lifeing-hard]

life lifes hard when your birthday aligns with the busiest days of the school year that celebrating feels really awkward and time-consuming. Your friends would like to, but they're also busy so you have to figure out how to mention it. Your family drags it out for too long that you end up being irritated about the 5 full assignments due in 3 hours. You get weirdly existential but you can't mention it to anyone, really, so you're feeling all that as you go through the day.

Then life lifes harder when you look back to see the fading magic of your birthday from your childhood. You wish it to return, really.

[billpottsismygf]

.

[picklesthenonbeanary]

running low on tagged drafts, gonna need to make some more or actually finish the ones I’ve already got started, oop-

I feel like I’m making empty promises on my Au, it exists I just have been getting distracted and also life is getting in the way a bit. I’m gonna finish my rant eventually my brain just has to actually cooperate with me on it, agh!

[iri-desky]

GET KOSA TRENDING.

STOP SCROLLING NOW!

AS OF FEBRUARY 21ST, 2024, WE GOT FIVE DAYS UNTIL THE DAY OF DECISION OF THE KOSA BILL, WHICH WILL CAUSE MASS CENSORSHIP ROUND THE INTERNET IF PASSED. WE NEED EVERYONE TO KNOW ABOUT THIS AND CONTRIBUTE. I'M NOT GIVING UP ON YOU ALL.

(IMPORTANT UPDATE: Kosa will not necessarily pass on the 26th. It only has the support to pass in Senate, and we STILL HAVE TIME. That being said, time is of the essence.)

WE'RE DOWN TO THE WIRE BUT WE CAN'T GIVE UP YET. IF WE GIVE UP, EVERYTHING IS OVER. IF WE DON'T, AT LEAST WE HAVE A CHANCE.

I'M THE ONE WHO SOUNDED THE ALARM, AND I'M NOT GOING TO CURL UP AND DIE YET.

Reblog this post in every LEGAL way you can under the Tumblr guidelines with the appropriate tags. TELL AND TAG EVERYONE YOU KNOW, then add the tags to see below... and more if you can think of any complying.

Visit badinternetbills.com if you want to find a way to defeat KOSA. It WILL NOT take much of your time. Reblog with any other information or sources, too-- but make sure to reblog if you can.

Reblog if you support lgbtq+ content.

Reblog if you support questioning queer youth and/or abused youth getting the information they need.

Reblog if you support Ao3 and/or other sites that wholeheartedly preserve talentedly made media.

Reblog if you're going to repost this on other sites than Tumblr and spread the word across Twitter, Tik Tok, Pinterest, or elsewhere, alongside the link to badinternetbills.com.

Reblog if you think KOSA is unfair and shouldn't be anyone's problem -- including the adults ALL OVER THE DAMN EARTH forced to face the mass censorship it causes because "think of the American Children!".

Reblog if you support internet activism and Palestine.

Reblog if you hate fascism or censorship, and don't want actually serious and helpful conversations censored on the internet.

Reblog if you value the internet in any way at all whatsoever.

CHECK THIS PETITION, TOO! https://www.change.org/p/stop-the-kosa?recruiter=1331807538&utm_source=share_petition&utm_medium=sms&utm_campaign=psf_combo_share_initial&utm_term=psf&recruited_by_id=57368c40-d0fd-11ee-98f7-2175430f819f&share_bandit_exp=initial-36809664-en-US

(Also, please reblog with at least "stop kosa" as a tag and not "kosa". I made the mistake of not adding just "kosa" as a tag...)

We won't let this stand any longer. Let's start a riot and get this trending.

[pockycigar]

okayyy besides the initial oc post im js queueing up old doodles while i actually get the courage to post genuine lore for the supernormals.

[novella-november]

Novella November 2024 Announcement Post

Hate AI, but love writing challenges?

Want to take part in a global, fun project to write a Novella in one month?

Grab some friends, and take part in Novella November, by writing 1,000 words a day for the month of November, ending with a 30,000 word Novella to test and stretch your novel-writing skills!

Your goal is not perfection, but merely getting into the habit of writing a litte bit every single day :D

No website, no sign-ups -- Just a community initiative to write using only your own word!

What are the rules? Just Three so far!

#1 - No AI

#2 - No Plagiarizing

#3 - Wordcount for the month should only come from what you write during the month.

What does that mean?

Only words written during November should go towards your Wordcount for the month... but! Feel free to use your 30k words as a continuation of previous writing, or just make it the first 30k words in a longer novel!

Don't think you can write a whole entire 30k word story? Write a series of short stories that total up to 30k!

Not ready to write original works yet? Write a 30k word fanfiction that you can post after the month is over!

Share your writing experience, tips, encouragement, and questions in the #Novella November tag!

---

EDIT, from the tags: Want a progress tracker? Track your progress with TrackBear!

https://trackbear.app/

Don't have a word processor? Use LibreOffice , the free and open-source alternative to Microsoft Word!

Want to organize/storyboard your Novel and don't want to pay a subscription? Try 7writer by Simon Haynes!

Want to be able to listen to your story aloud for proofreading using TTS (text to speech)? Try Balabolka!

Or, create some custom progress / Goal Cards in advance you can fill out as you reach word goals! For ideas and templates, search this blog for "goal cards" :D

Want to do a writing challenge in more than just November? Check out my ideas here for year round challenges to keep you writing consistently! Got feedback? Send it in, I'd love to see everyone's ideas!

---

EDIT 2: I almost forgot to mention, if you are unable to write/type your story, you can also narrate/dictate your story to your preferred recording device!

If you're doing a Recording only and it doesn't automatically generate a transcript, it would obviously be hard to judge the word count -- but you're also working with a lot of obstacles, so I'd say if you're able to complete your story via voice recording from start to finish, you've definitely achieved the goal!

Edit #3: added the title "Novella November 2024 announcement post" to the top to make it more standard with my Ominous October and Drabble December posts (will be updating Outline October shortly) , added "Official Announcement Post 2024" to the tags so people can easily find the monthly events for 2024, and added a bit of bold to the third bullet point in the original post from September 2nd 2024 for emphasis.

[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 [@ncteez] 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. 

[insanechayne]

~ ~ ~