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#major shlong
crowbone · 28 days
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ground control to major shlong
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victusinveritas · 1 month
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simpjaes · 9 months
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FRENZY ៸៸៸ part two
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Jake is experiencing real love for the first time in his life. He’s so infatuated with you that he would do anything to make you understand. And you? Oh, you are in no place to argue with a man who appears to be perfect. 
៸៸៸  part one here ៸៸៸ you must read the first part in order to understand this one!
៸៸៸ sim jake x afab reader 
 ៸៸៸ minors dni
 ៸៸៸ wordcount: 14.2k
 ៸៸៸ genre: stalker au, dark fic, slow burn, smut
 ៸៸៸ content tags: switch!stalker jake, he is gross but on a plus side he’s got a big shlong, obsession, panty stealing/sniffing, toothbrush sucking, shower water tasting, jealousy, manipulation, past trauma involving sa of reader, reader is manipulated into being obsessed with him too, trauma, jake is very insane, he’s thinks you need him to fix you, reader can be lifted and carried by him. 
 ៸៸៸ !WARNINGS! there is intense trauma, past abuse, and conflict in this fic. It’s dark with mentions of noncon and dubcon, and an instance where jake keeps going after reader faints. Everything is consenting between the two but only because he is manipulative and a bad person. if you can’t handle it, don't read it.
 ៸៸៸ a/n: sorry again for the way i had to post this in two parts, still i hope it was worth the wait!
៸៸៸ nsfw tags under cut
៸៸៸ nsfw tags for the whole fic, as in both chapters: masochism (jake), sadism (reader and jake), overstimulation, painful masturbation, praise, worship, dirty talk, blowjob, finger fucking, pussy eating, riding, missionary, mating press,  standing up sex yayyyyy, huge giant fat cock jake, deep penetration, unprotected sex, implied breeding, choking, hair pulling, suffocation, cock warming, crying, begging, hate sex, hitting (m receiving), squirting
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
The next morning, you were late waking up to log into your work account but Jake was still there, drowsy and smiling at you from the moment you opened your eyes. 
You briefly remember the early morning pouting he gave you, hard against you and lips all over you, and in turn you remember how you made a promise to yourself swiftly after rejecting his needs.
Your face heated up the second he said good morning to you, flustered over the fact that not only do you want him, but you want him to want you like that again, despite your rejection. After all, you let him sleep over, and he didn’t try to take advantage of you despite sporting an intense boner through the majority of it. 
He sees the way your eyes check him out upon waking up too, but you stay silent after he gives you his good morning greeting. 
“Are you hungry? I can step out and pick up some breakfast so you can work.” He offers, stretching his arms out wide and tapping you to stand up. “I’m staying again today.” 
Your eyes widen at him, but the smile on your face betrays that little red flag in your head that has forced you, up to this point, to struggle to give him what he needs. 
“I’d like that.” You nod to him, cheeks permanently warmed at the image of your shining boyfriend. “Sorry about last night.” You blurt now, standing up and stretching yourself. 
“It’s fine love, it's just hard to keep my hands to myself sometimes.” He says, intensely watching your reaction.
You lend a pause in your stretch at those words, having heard them before when your ex did things that made your body ache for weeks. There is a pull in your gut hearing him say that before you remind yourself that they’re just words. He just really likes you, and he did stop when you told him to.
He is not your ex. 
“I wouldn’t have hurt you though,” He continues, seeing you deep in thought in front of him. “If you’d have let me, I mean.”
“Jake I–” You stop yourself, feeling a flood of words on the tip of your tongue. “I know you wouldn’t hurt me.” You confirm, now moving forward to hug against him. “I would have–” 
“You would?” His eyes light up, smile brighter than you’ve ever seen before. 
“No, I mean,” You stutter in panic, hugging him tighter. “I would have touched you if you asked.”
His eyes go dark instantly, making his smile seem more eerie than anything as you look up at him. 
“I’m okay with doing the touching, we can work our way up to the other stuff…maybe? If that’s okay?” 
“Oh, baby, that’s more than okay.” He coos out, now losing his appetite for actual food and wanting nothing more than to show you just how good he could really be for you. His arms hug you tightly before releasing you, and he ushers you across the room. “We can talk about this later though, you’re already late, right?”
You nod, feeling a bit better about initially rejecting him and doing just that, moving to the small nook that holds your desk and PC and listening to him slip his shoes on. 
“I’m going to grab breakfast, and I’m gonna stop by my place to grab some clothes.” 
He leaves before you can answer, which is nice because part of you didn’t want to hear your own voice accepting that. 
Accepting that he’s leaving right now, accepting that he’s coming back to stay another night, accepting that you feel perfectly fine with all of this despite your inner demon advising you to run. 
You don’t know who you are in this moment, but what you do know is that you’re safe. That’s what’s driving you to act blatantly against what your own brain is telling you.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
You’re clinging and Jake is fucking devoted to the feeling of it.
Devoted to the way your fingers, so much smaller than his own, grab him to kiss him. Devoted to the way you kiss the bruise above his brow, and the way you ask him to stay for another night, and another, and another, up until he finds himself doing his and your laundry together just so he doesn’t have to go back home to grab more clothes to rotate through. 
It’s been a week since he’s been in your apartment, rolling around on your bed with you in it, cleaning himself in your shower, washing himself with your soap. It’s like only the two of you exist in this space, where he is the only one to step out and see the sun, solely so you don’t have to.
Or, solely so you can’t. He doesn’t think he’d let you at this point, now that you’re his and you prove it with each kiss and hug. All you need to do is sit and look pretty, sit and love him. That’s what your purpose is in this relationship, he will do the rest. 
Given, he’s also fucked his fist each second he can get in your bathroom. But goddamn do you cling. You whine when he separates himself from you even for a moment, and day by day he can see you come closer and closer to fulfilling his need to be loved by you entirely. 
Your phone hasn’t received any unsavory messages you’ve noticed as well, they haven’t needed you to come into the office, and all you can manage to think is that…you’re in love with being in this apartment with him.
Only good things happen when Jake is with you and you’re growing so attached that you’ve thought more than once to just move him in with you. Your mother would scold you, your ex would kill you, and arguably, Jake would absolutely do it. 
He waits on you hand and foot. Cooking, cleaning, doing your laundry, holding you and giving you some of the best sleep you’ve had in years. You refrain from considering it seriously though, because this relationship is still so new. You don’t want to freak him out or cause an uproar in your already fucked up and unsteady life. You’re throwing yourself in like you always do, but…is it so bad when he’s doing the exact same thing?
Until he’s not, anyway. 
“Love,” Jake starts, tapping his chin with the tips of his fingers as he lounges on your bed. “I need to go home today.”
Your heart immediately sinks. 
“What? Why?” You ask in a voice that plainly shows your panic.
“Well,” He taps on his chin again before moving his hand through his hair. “I’m pretty sure my mailbox is probably full by now, I need to clean out my fridge, and I should probably check my course work.”
“You’re…in college?” 
Jake nods with a snicker, laughing at how he’s given up his entire life for you. 
“Yeah, probably won’t be soon though.” He laughs, shaking his hair out and then looking at you with big, rounded eyes. “Just for the day, I’ll be back before sunset.”
You look down in a disappointed way before nodding to him. 
“Aww, babe. Don’t be like that–” He mock pouts as he turns to you, grabbing both of your cheeks and squishing them up, forcing your lips to pucker before landing a harsh kiss against them. “I’m coming right back, I promise.” 
You nod again, unable to keep a smile from forming on your face. 
“You’re so cute, it’s going to kill me one of these days.” He smiles back at you, hopping up and preparing himself to head back to his apartment. 
What you don’t know is that, while Jake wasn’t lying and that he should at least clean out his fridge, he needed to go home. 
He needs to unload the footage onto his computer, he needs to watch it back, he needs to fuck something.
And so, he does just that. 
The second he gets back to his apartment, it’s almost uncomfortable. Unfamiliar scents, no warmth, rotting food in the fridge, neglected pillows and bed sheets. 
Even so, it’s like he acts on instinct when he walks past everything he needs to do and lands himself at the window. His mind takes over in an instant.
It felt like so long ago when he first saw you from here, knowing you were the most beautiful, the perfect girl for him. Knowing you would love him too, and that you’d never want to leave him. He smiles at his victory, knowing that you’re sitting in that apartment right now thinking about him too. If he knew where he would be now, he thinks his former self may have very well fucked himself to death. After all, he’s felt you, tasted you, and even seen parts of you based on the little image he sent to himself from your phone. Everything happened better than he knew it would.
If it weren’t for your ex, perhaps you wouldn’t have let him stay with you in your apartment. Perhaps you wouldn’t have clinged to him so immediately. 
In a way, he almost wants to thank the man before he eventually strangles the life out of him. 
He’s tasted almost all of you by this point, and each moment it happened is trapped within the files of that little camera there. All of it, for him to remember. Each kiss and makeout session he made sure happened in the view of this camera, and so badly does he want to watch over and over again the moments where you gave in to him. The moments where you needed him. 
He’s quick to push the camera to his pc, uploading a weeks worth of files before placing it back onto the window sill and immediately shoving his hand down his pants. 
Jake shivers at the first unrestricted graze of his hand against his cock, eyebrows falling into that of probably one of the most pathetic faces he could ever make in his life. The relief is so good, so painful.
He can’t fucking help it. After jerking off multiple times a day before finding himself in your apartment with you, it’s hard to only do it once a day within a short time span of a few minutes. He felt so restricted in terms of his release, and he has so much cum to give right now. He’s aching for it. He wants to bleed it dry. 
He wants you so bad at this point, seeing you dangle yourself in front of him and not yet give in to at least going down on him– he needs this. He needs it now. 
Even if it’s not you touching him, he needs to release before he takes it from you. Before he does something stupid and makes you hate him forever. Before he really does become your ex. It felt like he was going insane in your apartment, surrounded by you, only wanting to fuck you, and still not getting to. 
God, the footage is so grainy but it hits his cock so fucking fast. He memorized each moment as it happened, and now watching it in third person makes him feel as if he’s some sort of ghost. Like he’s having an out of body experience and can see and feel you in a completely different light.
In more ways than he already has, even.
He releases within thirty seconds, barely holding his cock when he doubles over at the footage of that very first, harsh kiss you gave him. Sensitive and twitching, his raging length spilled all in his pants, drenches them through even, as his body shakes with the need for more.
And as if it never happened, he takes a firmer hold of his cock now, fast forwarding the footage to each and every kiss, wondering how good those lips of yours would feel elsewhere on his body. How pretty your moans would sound for him, how cute your hand looked gripping your tit in that little nude of yours, how–
He comes again, forcing him to let out a choked sob and drop his head to his desk. God, it hurts. He’s so sensitive, and still, he wants you so bad. His dick is still raging, aching, and begging, especially when he thinks of how you’ve been clinging. How your hands have fucked yourself, and how badly he wants them to stay on him forever. 
God he wishes your fingers could slice him open, leaving painful and love-filled reminders of not who you belong to, but of who he belongs to. 
When he thinks of how he’s only doing this right now because you have your claws buried into him already, almost refusing to let him leave you, he knows he could come another four or five times within the next thirty minutes solely because you cling, and cling, and fucking cling. Fuck..
That’s so hot to him.
He’d let you cage him up in a heartbeat, he’d let you fuck his entire life up and then laugh at him for it. It’s what you deserve. To have a man willing to do anything for you, someone willing to give up everything just to hear you breathe, to have him be that person. 
Third release, forcing him to hold his breath to the point of feeling faint.
The veins on his neck protrude, sweat now dripping down his brow. 
It hurts, it hurts, it fucking hurts.
But it doesn’t hurt enough.
And all day he does this. Until the sun is telling him that he needs to go back to you, until his hair is drenched in sweat and his arm is sore. Until his body feels weak and his cock feels spent, raw, and still throbbing for more. 
It hurts when he puts on a new pair of pants, hurts even more when he forces himself to squat in front of his fridge to clean it out, opting to toss everything into a bag rather than sifting through what’s good and what isn’t. 
Now more than ever does he want you against him, knowing that he’s fucked himself half to death solely to keep himself from scaring you, and still he isn’t satisfied.
At this point, nothing will satisfy him but you. He knows this now.
He’s quick to lock up, even quicker to toss his trash, and finds himself inside of your lobby at a loss.
Goddamn his libido. Goddamn this love for you. 
He can’t stop wanting you, and he can’t just fuck the need away himself at this point. He needs you to fuck his brain quiet, only you can satiate this horrifyingly deep hunger. 
Waiting, watching, waiting, waiting, waiting. 
He’s waited enough. He’s done waiting. 
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Jake appears at your door right on time, and you were expecting to see his smiling face and big stretched out arms to greet you as you open the door for him.
You didn’t get that though. In fact, you found yourself frozen with the door half open as you stared at your boyfriend and the way his terrifyingly small pupils looked back at you before instantly growing twice the size. So different from this morning, heaving, lips shaking, eyes darker than they’ve ever been. 
Before you can even ask why he’s looking at you like that, you learn exactly why. 
“I’m going fucking insane.” Jake says shortly in a hot whisper, stepping forward and slamming the door behind him. You feel his hands on you instantly, slipping under your shirt and grabbing your waist tightly. “Can’t be away from you, can’t be with you, I can’t stand it.” 
You just listen, feeling him walk you into the living room, fluttering his lips all over your face and neck, only to press you up and against the window with his entire body pinning you there with a slam. 
You’re shocked, unable to do anything but listen to him and feel the way his hands grip and search your entire body for something to hold onto. 
“All fucking day,” Jake seethes out angrily, pulling back from you and grabbing your face to turn it. Almost pissed that you simply exist in front of him right now. “Right there.” He says, pointing directly to his apartment. “I sat right there trying to deal with this.” He presses his hips against you, letting you feel exactly what he’s talking about. “And still, I need more.”
Your brain goes numb. Or maybe it goes hot, you’re not sure. You’ve only recently realized that he turns you on beyond belief, it’s difficult to decipher the difference between horniness and fear right now. 
“Jake–” You turn back to him, now using your own hands to grab his face, forcing his eyes to steady and look at you, as if to bring him back to reality. “Do you need–”
He cuts you off with a harsh kiss, hands running up just to press you harder against the window, his hips chasing whatever he can get from you. Like he’s using you in this moment, as if you’re not real and simply a doll for him to release against and inside of. 
He’s fucking gone. Outside of himself, and you, and the universe as a whole. 
“What I need,” He says, pulling back and stating in an almost demanding tone. “Is for you to take care of me.”
You knew this would come sooner or later, and you’d been trying to work up the courage to do it. You’ve run his patience dry, and you guess it’s now or never at this point.
“Just tell me.” You whisper submissively, wanting to give him whatever he needs solely so that he won’t leave you.
You see his expression soften within a split second, his hips release their pressure against you, and he pulls his hands back.
“Fuck.” He lets out apologetically, demeaning himself for losing his control and being so blatant. Pointing out his fucking apartment to you. “Baby, I’m sorry, I–”
You’ve already made your decision, understanding exactly why your boyfriend broke his composure. This past week proved enough to you that he wasn’t in it to fuck you, and even though his needs weren’t being met, he still worked hard to meet yours, you feel…
Yeah, you’re happy he did this. Even the force didn’t scare you entirely. The only thing that scares you is him leaving you over this. And he watches as you do it, sinking to your knees and reaching out to hook your fingers into the loops on his pants. 
“Baby,” He warns you, feeling you pull him straight to you. “Wait, wait.”
You don’t, knowing that if you were to stop now you might end up talking yourself out of doing this again.
“No,” You shake your head, lifting on your knees just to rub your cheek against the length in his pants. “Let me take care of you, I’ve neglected you enough.”
God, he fucking buckles. Dropping right to his knees in front of you, pulling you in by the face, and kissing you as hard as he possibly can. His entire body quivers, bursting in a euphoric sense of arousal as the hairs rise on his body at the very image of you on your knees for him. 
“You’re so good to me,” He mumbles through kissing you. “So, so good to me.”
And you just let yourself feel it. Intensely, to the point that even your stomach flips at knowing what’s about to happen.
Strangely enough, it flips in a good way. You haven’t felt like this in years, and it brings so much glee to you knowing that Jake is right here, willing to let you make him feel good. Willing to let you feel these things again, willing to make you feel good if you work up the courage to ask for it. And most of all, he’s staying. 
“Stand up then.” You whisper in a smile. “I’ll take care of you, so don’t run back home to do it yourself anymore.”
Jake shakes his head with a smirk, happy to get what he not only wants at this moment, but what he so desperately needs. 
“I did that for you, and look where it got me.” He says, standing and staring down at you. “Nothing will ever satisfy me, only you can.” 
You chuckle shyly, reaching up to fumble with his button only to have him take over for you, dropping his pants and gripping himself. 
“Don’t be so sure though.” You swallow around a lump in your throat at the size of him, proving why you were always able to feel it and not quite ignore it. “I don’t have a lot of practice with this.”
Oh, could you be any more perfect? Any more fucking endearing? With those pretty eyes staring down what he wants to put in you so bad, not even knowing how he’s only ever gotten this hard for you and you alone. Fuck, he could give it to you so good, he could fill you until you can’t breathe, he could keep you forever.
You look so pretty like this, with your lips trembling as you wet them, with the way your smaller hands swat him away as if to ask him to let you try and hold it yourself. 
He could shoot his load right now if you asked him to, looking so fucking docile on the floor for him. He needs to look away, he needs to prepare for this.
“I don’t know if I can, um,” You start, gripping him and noting that he’s thick, there’s no way it will all fit in your mouth without absolutely suffocating you. “Jake, I genuinely don’t know if I can fit all of it.”
He lends you a short chuckle as he takes in a breath, his fingers going down to tip your chin up at him. You feel it pulse in your hand as he looks at you, almost feeling his quickened heartbeat through the vein that runs up the underside of it. 
“Love, I don’t need it to fit.” He smiles, pressing it harder into your palm. “Even this is enough right now.” He lies, pressing his hips forward as if to show you that he’s lying.
He needs it to fit so bad.
You eye him down, feeling the twitch release a little dribble of precum that rolls down and onto your circled fist. It’s been a long time since you’ve looked at another person this way, wanting to taste it, almost needing to. 
Rubbing your legs together, almost uncomfortably, you swallow again as you keep your eyes trained on his before glancing back down. You pull your hands back just to see the way it drops. God, it’s so heavy. You can imagine he’s full of resentment for how long it’s taken you to simply look at it. His cock rages at you, darkened in color and glistening in the light of the setting sun through the window. 
All you can do is stare.
And all Jake can do is stare too, watching you do math in your head of what you need to do with him. He’d take anything, fucking anything, from you right now.
“Mm,” Jake hums for a moment, grabbing your hand and squeezing it tighter. “Like this.” He instructs.
“I know how to give a hand job, you know.” You roll your eyes playfully, despite totally forgetting how to do it now that, you know, you want to. 
“Yeah, don’t tell me that.” He warns, annoyed that you’d even say that right now. “Just, grip me harder–” He closes his eyes, pretending that you’ve never touched a cock that wasn’t his own, noting how your hands have always been gentle with him, save for that day you dragged him around by the shirt in a kiss.
You listen, trying to grip the girth of it as tightly as you can while dragging your hand forward and back, forcing little grunts out of him.
“Yeah,baby–” he encourages you, “Just like that.” He continues to lose himself to the feeling in soft moans, blinking down and now moving his hips in your grasp, fucking forward a bit harder. “Use your other hand too..”
You listen intently, never having to use both hands on a man like this before. You try to squeeze him, offering as much pressure as you can as he swivels his hips forward and back, slicking your hands up nice and wet with his precum. Unbelievable how much he has, actually. 
 You look up when he lolls his head back in a drawn out moan, staring at the expanse of his neck and the way it tenses when he swallows around the same moan. And then, suddenly, in a split second he hangs his head back down and looks at you as if he can see everything you are, everything you ever have been, and everything you ever could be. You gasp at his expression, feeling totally lost and in awe when you see that gaze go dead as he stares back. 
His lips fall slack when his hips pick up pace, essentially fucking your fists rather than letting you do the work. And when you glance away from him, tuning in to the consistent pre-cum spilling out of him, he sees you lick your lips. 
He watches, he sees you want it. 
So, very gently, he places one of his hands on the back of your head, encouraging you to do it. And it’s like he can taste colors when you let him and instantly wrap your lips around the big, swollen head of his leaking length.
The half-moan-half-amazed-chuckle that falls out of him only comes from the fact that you instantly stretch your lips around it, lapping at his tip in an almost hungry way. 
“God, fuck–” He keeps his head hanging forward, watching intently as you take him further and further into your mouth, up until you release one hand and grasp his thigh to hold onto. “I’ve dreamed of this.” He admits, shocked that you’re really going to do this for him.
You blink up at him, trying to smile around the heavy length pressing your tongue down. If you’re going to do this, the least you can do is make sure he fucking loves it. Not to mention, the fact that you’re also enjoying it only drives you to do more. Like the wall inside of you has been shattered and nothing could ever stop you from wanting him in any and every way possible.
He smiles through a deep groan at the way your lips still curl around him.
Never in his fucking life did he imagine you smiling while sliding his cock down your throat. Really, you did that entirely on your own and somehow, he feels even more insane than he did walking into your apartment earlier. 
You’re making it fit, and all he can do is help you, now bracing that same hand on your head and pressing further into your mouth.. 
More, more. 
And when he feels your fingernails dig into his thigh and his cock hit the back of your gagging throat, he chokes out, eyes tearing up, and he sobs out your name in a desperate attempt to compliment you for it. 
That sound alone from him went straight through you, igniting a long awaited arousal within your belly. You feel the drip, relishing in the feeling of being wet for the first time in fucking years. He’s so big, and he’s so suffocating. You want to do this, you want to hear him cry out your name again.
Even when he tries to pull his hips back, you grab onto him and hold his hips in place, pushing your lips further down, depressing your tongue even more as the thickest part of him cuts off your airways. Your throat restricts around him, and you feel proud of it. Proud of choking on him, happy to keep doing it. 
He stutters in awe, gripping the windowsill with his free hand and using the other to feel your hollowed out cheeks. Shit, you’re going to taste him, he’s going to give you all of it, he’s going to–
Shocked, floored, entirely drunk for you, all he can do is watch as you choke. His body did not warn him at all when his cum shoots into your throat, warming your belly with that first swallow around him. 
Your reaction to it is immediate though, as he watches with half-crossed eyes the way you pull off of him and let his cum spurt out and drip all over your face. Down those beautiful cheeks, onto your plush lips, and down your neck.
It won't stop. He just keeps coming. His entire body trembles as he stares at you, and you stare back before closing one eye due to the fact that there is now cum in your eyelashes, and you fucking smile at him.
The image alone keeps him hard as his body finally stops twitching. You, there on your knees, smiling up at him drenched in him. 
“Baby,” He soothes out with a raspy tone. “Fuck, you didn’t have to do–”
“I’m wet. Jake.” You smile, as if you’re admitting this to him to gain some sort of congratulations for it. And in a way, you are. He has no idea how amazing it is to you right now that you can feel your panties go sticky. It feels amazing to admit to him, actually. 
It’s so relieving, it’s so warm, it’s something you never should have missed out on in the first place.
“What?” He asks with uneven breath, dropping to his knees in front of you again, rubbing the cum into your skin with his thumb as he caresses your face. “You are?”
You beam at him, smiling with a nod.
“Really?” He asks again, in disbelief because this was all it took? 
You nod again, leaning back on your arms and watching him follow, hovering over you and slotting himself between your legs with a hungry gaze. 
“Can I feel?” He asks abruptly, crawling over you to the point that your back hits the side table behind you, keeping you from lying all the way down. 
And you nod before you think about it. Wondering if this is how it’s always supposed to be. Always willing, always wanting, always needing. 
He stares at you when you nod, glancing down to your middle then back at you as if to gain another confirmation. 
You nod again, this time wanting to hide your face in your arms. You anticipate it, wondering what it’ll feel like to be touched there again by a hand that isn’t your own after all this time. And when you feel his shaking hand dip into your sweat pants, you don’t even shutter. You don’t shy away.
You’re surprising yourself even, letting out a gasp when he cups your core and looks down at you with a cautious smile. 
“You’re dripping, baby.” He smiles as he balances himself on one arm over you, rubbing his hand back and forth and memorizing the dips and folds he can feel through this flimsy fabric. Then, his more intrusive thoughts spill in an unintentional and needy groan. “Fuck, I bet you’re so tight.”
Words that would make you recoil are no longer scaring you. You can tell he wants to apologize for saying it too, but goddamn, you loved hearing it. In fact, your entire body pulses at the words, feeling his hand do nothing more than hold you there and gently rub. His eyes are pleading though, with his lips pouting as he relishes in thoughts of probably fucking his fingers into you just to see if he’s right. 
Or maybe it’s just you hoping that’s what he’s thinking about. You can’t help the way you clench, letting out a strained breath as you lurch forward and hug him around his neck, squeezing so tightly as you whisper against the shell of his ear. 
“You can touch me– if you want.” You whisper, physically feeling the goosebumps against his neck raise to your lips. “Just go slow.”
You still need to go slow, after all, you don’t know how your brain may react to this, despite loving it at the moment. Relishing in the fact that someone managed to make you feel horny again. You feared that you never could again. God, he’s amazing. 
“I’ll go so slow for you,” He whispers back, twisting his hand in your pants to hook his fingers around your panties to pull them to the side. “Oh, baby, you really do want this, don’t you?” He whispers again upon really feeling you drip, trying to slide his fingers through the slick mess before rubbing circles around your hole. He’s lost his train of thought now, only able to feel one sense at a time so that he can fucking memorize how you coat his fingers entirely.
He moans again from deep in his chest along with you, despite knowing you’re the only one feeling the pleasure of his fingers. You feel his moan vibrate through his throat when you kiss him there, anticipating what it’s going to feel like when he slides a finger in.
And it’s like you see stars when he does, slowly pressing one into you as he wraps his other arm around your waist to hold you in place, sitting back on his knees and forcing you to stand on your own infront of him. 
There he holds you as if he’s afraid you’ll start to fight, relishing the feeling of your wet walls hugging his finger all while you cling to him through it. He was right, you are tight despite how wet you’ve gotten. It’s almost like you’re a virgin despite knowing that you’re not. 
Your body is reacting this way for him, and you’re hugging him, and your pussy is clenching for him. He just knows that if he manages to fit his cock into you, he’d fucking lose it. You’d squeeze him so tight, and he’d fuck it so deep. Fill you up, deeper, deeper, until the only name you know is his. 
He’s losing it again, hearing your little whispered moans against his ear, hanging on him like a fucking pet, god, he wants you to squeeze the fucking blood out of him. You’re being so compliant, so submissive, so–
“Do you even know…” He starts babbling, trying to silence his thoughts by giving them straight to you as his finger slides out, eagerly shoving two back in at a much quicker, much harsher pace. “How much I’ve dreamed about this?” 
You shake your head noting how he’s already mentioned dreaming of you once. The thought has you spreading your legs out to feel how deep his fingers reach inside of you. There’s no pain involved in this, despite his pace not being nearly as slow as he said he would go. You’re not upset, you want him to go faster, you want him deeper, you want to hear him talk.
“So many times, baby, so many times.” He soothes himself more than you through these words, losing himself more and more each second to the feeling of your core clenching his fingers. “You’re even prettier to me right now,” He continues to babble, listening to you hum in his ear at the pleasure you feel. “I want you to take everything from me.” 
“I want you to wrap your legs around my neck, I want you to rub my nose in it, I want you to suffocate me, I want—”
“Shit, Jake.” You moan out his name for the first time at the dirty words. They’re a lot to take in only because you know it truly is a lot, or rather, it should be. But you fucking want that too. You want everything from him, you want everything he wants. Everything. “What else?” You urge him to keep talking.
“I want you to pull my hair,” He says, instantly feeling your fingers slide up his neck and into the thick of it, tugging immediately. “I want you to make it fit here too.” He continues, curling his fingers inside of you, thrusting his own hips against the dense air in your apartment. 
You moan again at his hot words. You’re overwhelmed by how much you want more, how much you’d let him, right here, right now. 
“Keep going,” You sing out, feeling it in your stomach and knowing that this familiar feeling is so much better than you’ve ever felt before. “Tell me, Jakey, fuck–” You continue, huffing at the way his fingers quicken even more. 
“Sound so pretty saying my name, fuck,” He groans now, more level than before as he feels your legs close around his arm, fingers relentlessly hitting the soft spot inside of you. “Tell me that I’d never hurt you, that only I can make you feel like this.”
You nod aggressively as your brain hits a wall, unable to fulfill his request. Every muscle in your body tenses in pleasure as you begin to shake, moving your own hips against his fingers and tugging his hair harder without intention. 
He moans out at how tight you hold him, wanting nothing more than to lay you out and bury himself into you, to feel your pussy jerk him off. 
“Feels so good, baby, right?” He continues to talk, feeling your tight walls try to push his fingers out with each threat of your build up, his mind is spinning. “Say it–” He stutters, feeling his own body react the same way yours is. “Fuck, please, say that you’re mine.”
“I’m yours.” You whisper out of breath against his ear, the hot breath sending him overboard as he immediately pulls his fingers from you and grips his cock instead, ignoring your whimper of the lost build up.
“Yeah,” He cries out, thrusting his hips against his hand. “So let me– please, please let me.” 
His face looks so broken when you stare at him in shock, eyes pleading for you to give him all of it. To give him everything right now. How could you fucking say no to that expression? How could you ever say no to him? 
And still, with your orgasm half-fulfilled, you’re entirely enamored with the way you instantly want it too. As if you’re rushing head first into a brick wall with him, and you stop just to think for a moment.
Should you? 
Do you intend to keep this man forever? Do you want him to leave? Would you be able to picture a day without him? 
It confirms in your brain right then and there. You do intend to keep him. You don’t want him to leave. You could never picture a day without him at this point. 
If he wants to have sex with you right now? Why not? You’re sure that if he is truly wanting to stay, sooner or later you’ll feel him pumping inside of you. Why should it matter that it happens now rather than tomorrow? Or next week? Or even next month? 
Instantly upon your snap decision, you stand on shaking legs, watching him watch you. His hand gripping himself harshly to prevent a pathetic and untouched orgasm, cheeks flushed, eyes glassy. 
You smile, dropping your pants, panties, and then lifting your shirt right up and over your head. All he does in response is wince, grip the base of his cock harder, and try to focus on not spilling and wasting his cum on your floor. Brain only slightly trying to distract him with the idea of grabbing those sticky panties to suck them clean. 
“Really?” He chokes, out of breath and standing up, swiping your panties up quickly and crumpling them in his hand.
Then, you feel one hand on you after he drops his length, and the other rubbing those same wet panties against your skin, as if he has a death grip on them and you. Still, he walks you right back to the window and against it, speaking in that same, needy and shaking breath. “Baby, are you sure?” 
You look away, feeling vulnerable and shy but so willing, so ready when you nod and throw your leg around his waist as if to tell him that you’re more than sure. 
He gives you a breathy chuckle, pulling back just to lift his shirt off of him, hang your panties at the base of his cock, and then he grabs your leg and holds it in place. “Right here?”
He can’t tell if he’s even alive right now, with your pussy sitting spread open right up against him as you let him hold you here, your ass is probably looking great for the camera right now. Your panties feel so good in their rightful place, dangling just in front of his balls. You feel so good in your rightful place, right up against the wall with him trapping you here. 
You nod again, pressing your hips forward, proving to him how hungry you feel for him right now. Finally feeling dirty and not hating yourself for it.
“Right here.” You confirm, tuned into his lips and leaning forward to lick against them. “That’s what you want, right?”
He’s stunned by how you take control while still being somehow submissive to him about it. Almost like you’re shaming him for wanting it, almost like you don’t want to admit that you want it too. 
“Is that what you want?” He asks, trying hard not to think about how you’ve shifted entirely within the span of however long it’s been since the two of you started this. Is this how you act when you're horny? 
“How could I not?” You confirm again with a confident tone, watching your boyfriend break in front of you. “Look at you.”
Jake can’t bear to look at himself, he knows he looks just about as pathetic as he’s always wanted. Never quite able to feel pathetic enough to satisfy him, only now understanding why he chased and chased the feeling to have you like this. 
Controlling whether he can stick his dick in you, controlling whether he can fuck off and die. 
That’s how it’s supposed to be in a relationship, but somehow it’s something else between both of you. For him, it’s like you’ve intentionally edged him for an entire week and for you it’s like you finally have control over your own sexuality again. 
You feel powerful, and Jake wants to be entirely at your mercy. 
“No one has ever wanted me this bad and waited.” You finally say to his intense and loving stare. “I want to give you anything you want.”
If he had a tail, it would be wagging so fast right now. It’s like he’s being given a treat for being exactly who you needed him to be, and he doesn’t think he’ll ever stop doing it. 
“I could wait longer,” Jake mumbles, inching his lips to yours and letting his other hand cup one of your tits. “You could make me suffer,” He continues, whispering it right into your mouth. “Could lock me up and starve me of it.”
You lean your face back, a little shocked at his choice of words there. 
“So you meant those things you said earlier?” You ask, remembering how he babbled on about wanting you to suffocate him, about how he wanted you to take everything from him. 
“Do you want me to be honest?” He counters, now pressing his hips forward and letting his cock weep against your thigh. 
You nod to him. 
“I want you to take it all out on me.” He admits, gripping your tit in his hand tighter, hiking your leg up higher. “I want you to control every aspect of my life.”
Honestly, it shouldn’t be a thought that brightens your brain but it does. It sounds toxic, and you can’t even tell if he’s saying this just because he’s horny and is about two seconds from slamming you up and against this window with the force of his cock alone. Somehow, you love the thought of all of it. 
“Every aspect?” You ask with interest. “What do you mean?”
He chuckles as he hangs his head, watching his length pulse constantly against your thigh and the panties hanging off of it. Only then does he release your tit and use your panties as a way to position his cock up, lining up with the wet of your core that is only for him.
“It means–” He starts, sliding into you with a paused moan, hiccuping slightly as he furrows his brows. “I want you to make me cry for you.” He continues with a tilt to his head as he watches the way you wince at all of the strength he has to hold you up like this, to slide into you like this. “I want you to hurt me, and I want you to love doing it.”
He bottoms out after that, holding you in place and feeling your walls struggle to adjust to the tight fit. 
“It’s what you deserve.” He soothes out to you, kissing you once. “To take someone the same way you’ve been taken.”
You recoil instantly, pussy restricting in horror at the reminder of why you never do this with another person, but god the way he lifts on his toes just to plunge somehow deeper into you. The way his lips trap you even more, the way his force is nothing but fucking amazing to feel. All you can do is moan, bump your head against the window, and squeeze him. 
“You said you wanted to give me what I want–” He slides out of you just a little bit. “So, can you?” He pushes back in, listening to you get wetter at his words and feeling your answer when you can’t seem to speak for yourself. 
“I said I’d never hurt you, love,” He coos out this time, watching your body shift up against the window as he picks up some sort of rhythm, taking you the way he’s always wanted you. Right here, against the window. “But I never said that you couldn’t hurt me.”
Why the fuck is that so hot? God, why does a man like Jake offer you so much? Why is he doing this to you? Why is he doing it to himself? Why do you love it? 
You find yourself nodding as you moan out, still not quite adjusted to his size and the way he made it fit into you in such a…pleasurable way. It doesn’t hurt at all, it feels good. 
“Yeah, I knew you would.” He continues to talk as if he’s not internally losing it, but months worth of pretending, several orgasms today alone, and having your pussy hugging him just as tightly as he knew it would? That’s helpful. 
And now, as your fingers grip at him through his harsh and deep thrusts, all he can do is hold your leg against him, lean forward, and stare directly into his apartment window. As if he’s mocking his former self, as if everything in the world has fallen into place. You wouldn’t leave him now, never, you’d be just as stupid as everyone else if that were the case. 
He has faith in you, in himself, in this, and the way you drip all over him. 
He knew you’d be perfect for him. 
It doesn’t take long, really, for him to pull an orgasm out of you when he’s doing it this good. In fact, you don’t even have to reach a hand down to help pull it out of you by the time your body begins to stiffen up at it. 
His pace is slow, his cock is deep, and fuck his entire body is on you. You couldn’t squeeze your hand down if you tried, in fact, you don’t think he’d even consider letting you do any of this on your own. 
His grip is so strong, you can feel your sweat stick to the window as you slam your head down on his shoulder, sliding up and down the window with each of his powerful thrusts. 
It feels so good to do this again.
“Jake–” You hiccup against his neck, listening to his heaved and choked breaths through each thrust. “I wish I had done this sooner.” You manage to get out, body tensing and relaxing by the minute with the threat of an orgasm. “I’m sorry I made you wait so long.”
And honestly, you don’t know what’s gotten into you, nor do you fucking care. If you want to cry, you’ll fucking cry. It’s been too long since your tears hit you out of pleasure, or happiness, or fucking safety. At this rate, you’ll never let this man go. 
“I know baby, I know.” He soothes you, arms shaking as he holds you up and thrusting in as deep as he can go.
You feel him stutter in his pace, his hips stopping as you feel his heavy cock pulsate against your clenching walls. 
“Are you close?” He says, pulling back and looking at you. “Is that why you’re sorry?”
You look at him with glassy eyes, smiling dazed at him as you shake your head. 
“No,” You smile wider, running your hands up and into his hair, remembering what he asked for before. You tug, forcing his head to tilt back so that you can attach your lips to him. “I’m saying it because I want you to always make me feel this good.” You whisper against his pulse point, kissing it hard. 
You feel him lose composure at that, his hips immediately moving again, slamming up and into you so hard that you can’t even hold your head still enough to kiss him there again. 
“Ah, fuck,” He whimpers out, “why would you fucking say that to me right now?” He continues, relentlessly fucking himself against the soft and sensitive spot inside of you. “You still make me feel so insane, only you could do this to me.”
You smile, having learned that he appears to love the torture anyway. 
“You love it though, don’t you Jakey?” You say, loving the way he loses it for you, learning how badly he’s wanted this, seeing him intend to stay. 
And at those words, he can’t take it anymore. Fuck the camera, fuck anything else in the world that isn’t you. He ignores that wince on your face when he slips out of you, ignores the way the panties fall from his length, and focuses entirely on the way you hug him as he carries you straight to the couch. 
Right there, he drops you and watches the way your tits bounce at the motion. 
“I’m fucking obsessed with you.” He says, feeling the arousal run through his veins, knowing you’d love to hear him say that while never knowing just how true it is. “How are you real?”
You smile, hiding your face as you feel his hands hold your thighs open. You know what he’s looking at, and you can’t force yourself to see him do it. Solely because you know it’s going to swell your heart so big that you’d only fear the day he wants to leave it empty.
And you don’t respond either, because you can’t. His fingers are spreading you open and you can hear him drop to his knees yet again for you. You wan’t to look so bad, but still, you fear the love in his eyes.
You fear and want all of it. 
He hears the sharp inhale you give when he spreads you out, really inspecting the single spot on your body that no one on this earth should ever see aside from him. 
“This is where it hurt the most, isn’t it?” He asks, staring into the hole he’s already fucked, watching it beg him for more despite his words that probably stab your soul. 
You’ll never understand how he can take your pain and turn it into something you don’t mind hearing though. Yes, that’s where it hurt the most, and still, that’s where you want him the most. 
“Yeah, baby?” He asks again, reaching an arm up and forcing you to look at him. “This is what you were so afraid of?” He continues, dipping down and rubbing his face directly into the folds and inhaling a deep breath. 
“Y-yeah.” You choke out at the feeling, in awe of how you knew his eyes would make you terrified. He still stares up at you as he does it, pointing his glare straight through you and into your fucking spirit.
Only Jake can make you fear nothing else in this world aside from the thought of losing him. 
“I’ll make it better,” He says, boosting his ego at the way your legs wrap around his head. “You’ll always want me here,” He continues, cooing out with each taste and lick of your budding arousal. “You’ll never want me to stop–” 
No man has ever wanted you this bad while having you, even as you experienced the trauma of just that. Your ex wanted you physically, but something about the man drying to drown himself in your pussy right now makes you feel like he wants you on a level far deeper than what’s possible.
He’s eating you out like he wants to eat you whole. Like he could devour you, and never spit you out of his mouth. 
“Shit, shit–” You moan, hands shooting down to his hair yet again, finding yourself loving the way his grown-out roots feel softer than the harsher dyed section of his hair. You tug harder than you have before, feeling his tongue search and yearn for everything you have to offer him. 
“Mhm.” He mumbles with a mouth full of pussy, rolling his eyes back at how you do just as he suggested before. Rubbing his nose in it, letting him continue to lose himself in the point of all of his problems. 
And it’s as if you forgot that this only happens to reach a point of coming. The experience alone feels like one long and drawn out orgasm already, it doesn’t take anything at all for him to get you there. 
It’s like he already knows it too, because you go entirely silent with a held breath as he holds your hips and buries his tongue deep inside of you. He wants to feel it, he wants to taste it. And he suffers for it, really, neglecting his own cock and knowing he’s going to come through this alone anyway. 
As expected, he does. Upon the first gush of your slick hitting his tongue, his cock pulses, his balls squeeze up, and he can feel it shoot out of him each time your pussy shakes against his suffocated mouth.
And your hands, so perfect in his hair, pulling without even knowing. You’re everything he’s ever wanted, this is more than he could have ever asked for. 
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
By this point in your relationship, the two of you have moved so quickly that it doesn’t even scare you. In fact, if it slowed down at any point, you’d probably be preparing a suicide note simply because you don’t want to be in this world without Jake. 
Since the first time you got intimate with him, it’s like it hasn’t stopped. You’re shocked at his thirst for you and even more shocked that someone so fucking perfect would waste his breath on you even for this long. 
It hasn’t been that long, really, since the first time you touched him. A few days at most, but it’s like that moment solidified a lot for the two of you.
One, he’s not going to be sleeping in his own bed anytime soon or, ever, really. Two, you’ve learned through at least two more sessions of Jake’s mouth on you that he really does want you to live up to his requests. He makes it known how badly he wants you to make him suffer, how badly he needs you to give him everything he wants. Thankfully, he’s patient with your reluctance. And Three, your ex is no longer a threat. 
Each message you receive, you just hand your phone to Jake and he takes care of it. 
It doesn’t even translate in your head that you’ve been barred from answering your mother’s calls until the police show up at your door for a wellness check. Where, of course, Jake answers,
“Yeah, she’s here.” You hear his voice as you lay flat against your bed, heaving breaths as if he didn’t just have the tip of his dick in you. “Why?” You hear him question. 
A few more muffled words and you hear the door close and his footsteps making his way to your room. 
“Cops.” He dead-pans, “Your mom thinks you're dead.” he adds with an eye roll. 
Your internal panic, a feeling you had once been so accustomed to that now feels almost foreign, takes over your body.
“Fuck, my mom!” You say in a fast breath, rushing onto your feet and throwing on a pair of his soiled sweatpants. 
Jake hangs back but listens to your conversation from your hallway, listening intently to how you speak to other men, cops or not. 
“Yeah,” You say, scratching your temple with shame. “I guess I didn’t realize she was calling me so much.” 
Try five times a day. 
“I’ll call her now, sorry for wasting your time.” You continue with that nervous chuckle that you used to use on him during your dates. 
And then you’re back in the room, looking at him with a raised brow. 
“Why didn’t you tell me my mom has been calling?” You ask, a little annoyed that it’s gotten to the point of freaking your mother out. 
Jake shrugs, then looks at you apologetically. 
“I don’t like when she forces you to talk about it.” He finally says, sulking his shoulders and huffing out. “I don’t like that she tells you to be careful around me.”
You roll your eyes, relieved that he’s just being himself and wanting to keep you happy. 
“Still, you should have told me. She’s going to have a fucking heart attack thinking he showed up at my work place again.”
Jake’s entire brain stops working, his body going rigid as if the cold air outside is hitting him in full force. 
Your eyes immediately widen as you slam your hand over your mouth. Fuck, you forgot that you told her in a hushed tone, explaining that it’s okay. That Jake wouldn’t let anything happen to you. 
Fuck. 
“He what?” Jake says, dumbfounded at the slip of your words. 
“Jake, wait–” You try to get an explanation but he’s not having it. 
“You haven’t been at work, what do you mean he showed up?” He glares, chest heaving as his heart rate picks up. 
“It was from that day when you first stayed over,” You look at the floor apologetically. “I didn’t want to talk about it…” You trail off, feeling his energy hit you in the face at how he’s completely shifted from that loving, soft boyfriend you’re so used to. 
“You kept that from me!?” He seethes out in disbelief. This whole time he thought he fucked your ex up enough to prove what would happen if he even fucking tried it. By you explaining that it happened just after Jake found him, that’s a direct insult.
A threat.
A fucking death wish.
“I didn’t–” You stutter trying to explain yourself. “I didn’t think it would matter since you were here. You were keeping me safe.” 
“You lied to me?” He continues interrogating you, coming up to you and practically demanding an answer through his eyes.  
You look away, nodding. 
“You said you wanted me to keep you safe, what would have happened if you had to go to work again?” He drones on and on, seemingly stuck on the fact that you didn’t tell him. “What would happen if they called you to go in today?” 
Already you’re starting to cry, feeling stupid for not making a bigger deal out of it. To be fair, not talking about it helped and you did intend to tell him at some point. That just…never happened. 
“I would have asked you to stay with me at work.” You say, feeling numb as the fear of losing the man in front of you steals your every thought. “I’d have not gone. I’d have quit. I don’t know!” 
Jake backs down at your words, only able to soften his rage if you’re the one who causes it. 
“Baby,” His soft voice shocks you when you feel him come back to himself, as if to comfort the fear he just instilled in you. “I’m not mad.”
Yes he is, you know he is. 
“Now you’re the one lying.” You argue, pushing him away only to feel his grip on you tighten. 
“Am I?” He asks, urging you to keep talking. “Are you mad at me now?” He continues, intentionally pushing your buttons. 
“Mad that I should have already known?” 
“Mad that I didn’t let you talk to your mom?” 
“Mad that I’m keeping you safe, while you keep putting yourself in the position to be hurt by him again?” 
You stare at the floor. 
“Mad that this is your fault?” 
Yeah, you are mad. 
“Fuck you, Jake.” You break, feeling his strangling fingers on your skin scratch and leave welts when you force yourself away from him. “Fuck you for all of that.”
“What else?” He presses, hanging on specific words. “Fuck me for what else?” 
You just stare at him, and he can see the anger in your eyes. 
“For not being there when it happened?” He asks gently. “For not killing him when I had the chance?”
When he had the chance. 
“What do you–” You try to ask, but he just continues, closing back in on you. 
Somehow, you need it, despite wanting to pull away every time. 
“Fuck me for wanting this from you, right?” He says, much closer to you and dipping down to kiss you. “Fuck me for wanting you to be this mad, hmm?” 
You break again, something deep within you spiraling into a different type of insanity you’ve never felt. You don’t feel trauma, you don’t feel scared, you feel…enraged.
“Fuck me for thinking you look perfect,” He whispers against your lips. “Fuck me to fuck me, fuck me to fight me, fuck me.” 
The repeated words fit into your brain like they belong there. Like this anger is supposed to be filling you with pleasure rather than dread. Like you’re supposed to feel just as in love as you are mad. 
“Just fuck me, baby.”
And god fucking dammit. How does he crawl into the depths of your brain, like a fucking roach, and kiss all of the areas you don’t know exist? How the fuck does he wake shit up inside of you that you never dreamed of having, or feeling, or wanting.
“I hate you.” You say, and meaning it too. 
Because you don’t think you’ve ever loved someone more than you do now. 
“Yeah, I bet you do.” He smiles, dipping his hand down into the sweats you put on and sliding into the same slick he had spilling out of you just before the pigs showed up. “I love it.” He chuckles against your lips when you refuse to moan at his touch. 
You’re pushing against every good feeling inside of you right now, thinking only of how this rage spills out of you and against his fingers. 
“So wet to hate me–” He says, pressing and pressing and pressing for you to just fucking– “Hit me.” 
He sees your eyes shine at the very thought of how badly you must want to do that, unknowing of how much he wants it too. Needing it almost. 
And oh, the moan he lets out when your weak hands raise to shove him back. He plays off of it, stumbling back to your bed just to fall on it. Waiting, knowing you’ll come take him for all he’s worth.
“Come on, love.” He encourages you. “Make me sorry.” 
You hate him, and you hate that you love it. Love that he loves it, fucking adore that he wants this, he wants to let you do whatever you want to him. 
To kick, cry, scream, release everything that’s been trapped in your head for years.
You don’t even falter, feeling it bubble up and overtake every thought. Dripping down your legs as if this is the only way you could ever fulfill your own pleasure again. Only now to you slide the pants back off of you, so horny out of your mind that all you can manage is to feel these emotions drip for him. 
He watches you straddle him bare from the waist down, sees your breath shaking, and your lips quivering.
Jake knew you had it in you. 
“Take them off.” You demand, rolling your eyes at the way he looks up at you with pure bliss.
“Hit me first.” He offers, feeling his cock strained against his own pants that he haphazardly threw on when he heard the knock at your door. “Hit me, and I’ll fuck the hate out of you.” He lies.
“Take them off.” You repeat, cold hands reaching down as you do it yourself, lifting just enough to shove them down far enough.
And god, the breath is knocked clean out of him with the way you just take him. You slide down perfectly, bottoming him out in one motion. He can see now that you need this perhaps even more than he does. 
“God, come on baby.” He moans, feeling you just sit still on him. 
“Jake,” You warn, running your cold hands up to his neck on instinct. “Shut up.” You squeeze. 
The smile that forms on his face is pornographic at best, and drunk at worst. You see him love every instant of it, and you don’t want to admit that you do too.
You didn’t know it would feel so good to have a man’s neck in your hands, squeezing it just to shut him up. Releasing it just to hear him gasp out a praise. 
“So good,” He praises, eyebrows knitted together as he loses himself to the way your pussy chokes his length. You’re not even fucking him, you’re just– “So perfect.” He continues, nearly wailing out at the immense love he feels inside. 
And then, you do. You hit him. Power hungry and entirely at a loss for your own pleasure, you land a harsh and loud slap right against his face, only for him to moan louder. 
Only for him to fuck up. 
Only for him to grip your sheets so tight that you hear a rip. 
Again. You slap him, feeling your anger slowly fizzle with each frantic moan he gives back. 
Again, and again.
“Shit, you love that, don’t you?” He manages to say, feeling his cheeks sting with red-hot passion, only to be hit again, and again. “God, make it hurt.” 
At this point, you know that you could never give him enough as the rage leaves your body entirely and it’s replaced with nothing but the need to just….fuck him. Never in your life have you ever been blinded by a need so badly, save for safety.
And you have that now, don’t you? You have Jake now, right where you want him, right he wants to be. He wants you to feel this, he made you feel this. 
The first bounce felt like pure agony, slamming his cock into you by your own force, feeling him stretch you open, hearing it slap and echo against the walls. 
“Make it hurt?” You finally say, pinching his cheeks together and forcing him to look at you. “I don’t think I could hurt you enough if I tried.” You admit, quite truthfully, mind you.
Jake gives you a crooked smirk. 
“Try it anyway.” He coos, feeling the way you repeatedly arch your back just to ride him faster. “Could fill you up, right here, right now, flip you over and make you take it if you’re so worried that you can’t.” 
It runs through you like a cold shiver. You don’t want to give up this power, you want to try. 
“That’s big talk for someone asking to be choked right now.” You dead-pan at him, voice even and calm. You continue to move your hips, listening to his repeated moans with each breath. “So loud and needy for it too.”
Jake nods proudly and drunkenly, reaching his hands out to yours and forcing them back on his neck. 
“I could be needier.” He says, pressing your hands against his airways. 
You take over for him, choking his remaining words out of him and forcing him to moan. 
“You said you’d make me take it?” You seethe out through your own pained moan, riding him so hard that you feel sensitive. “Like you think it would hurt me?” 
He shakes his head rapidly, implying that you’re wrong to think that. Wanting to tell you that if he made you take it, you’d love every second of it. You wouldn’t tell him no. 
“After promising you never would, Jake?” You question still, knowing he can’t answer. You squeeze harder as you watch his face darken, the blood rushing to burst in the whites of his eyes. “Is that it? You want to hurt me so that I hurt you back?”
He nods in a daze, wanting nothing more than to die like this now, or some other day. To hear your voice, feel your hands, and know that you’re fucking him through it. 
“You don’t scare me.” You finally say, releasing the grasp and listening to the sharp inhale he takes in. “As much as I wish you did, you don’t.” 
That’s all it takes really, knowing that he could work you like a puppet and you’d still love him. Why else would you say that? You wouldn’t fuck him like this if you didn’t mean it. Your mother long forgotten, the anger gone, it’s just a raw form of you and him right now. 
Everything you’re saying is more truthful than he ever thinks you’ve been with him. 
“Want me to?” He finally asks with a wet gasp as he continues to catch his breath. “I bet I could.”
“You can’t.” You say, now slowing your hips as your legs tire out, bracing yourself on his shoulders to take a breath. 
“I can.” He says, immediately overpowering you. He sits up quick, flipping you right over and onto your back. “I can make you feel anything I want.” He whispers darkly to you. He grabs your legs and pushes them to your chest, lost entirely from this reality. “Anything you want.” 
You just stare up at him, willing to accept his words even more when he slams his length into you, so deep that you feel nothing but the pain of it. 
For the first time, he’s hurting you through pleasure alone. 
“Could make you love it too,” He continues to dote on himself as he watches the sparkle in your eye dim. “You love it already, don’t you?”
“I’m not afraid.” You manage to mutter out through a guttural groan, wincing at the way he drives himself into you at such a speed that all you feel is pain. 
“I can’t take you seriously when you talk like that.” He chuckles, feeling entirely in control of whatever entity is running his body right now. “I see you baby, you’re terrified to lose me.” 
Your eyes die in that moment, because out of anything in this world, he’s pinpointed your biggest fear. 
“So pretty when you’re scared too,” He hums out, not relenting at all with the force of his hips when he lets your legs fall around him, and he finds himself burying his face between your tits. “Maybe I should threaten to leave you.”
Instantly, you cry. 
“Just so I can eat up these little tears you have for me.” 
You wish he would shut up. 
“So I can taste the way you come on me, and feel your pussy try and lock me here.” He smooths over your nipple at the words, slowing his hips and pulling out just to the tip. “Your body tells me more than you know, love.”
Your eyes roll up when his pointed thrust shoves your body across your sheets, your hands reach for his shoulders, clawing for any sense of normality to this moment. 
“So quiet.” He lightens his own voice now, letting it fall against your collarbone in a tone just above a whisper. “So stubborn.” 
Your mind awakens at the insult, hoping he’s right. 
“To think I’d ever leave you.” He smiles, lifting up to meet your lips. “I’m not going anywhere.”
He tastes your tears and it’s just enough for him to forgive you. 
To forgive you for not hitting him enough, for not choking him until he died. To forgive you for even thinking you’d need to talk to your mother, and for fucking lying to him. 
And only now does he go quiet, fucking you will full intent now that he’s already in your head at every turn and corner. He can tell with the way you don’t even realize your previous orgasm. 
With the way it bubbled out and down his balls, hugging his cock so tightly that all he could do was keep fucking with your mind, toying with threats only to silence them. 
And then, you inhale a sob, and breathe out his name, so pretty to your ears, even more beautiful to his own. 
“Don’t leave me.” You chime out, body numb and emotions threatening you into a panic attack.
“I’m right here, love.” He chuckles. “You’re shaking.” 
You are. More than you can even comprehend, your body is shaking from feeling everything and nothing at once, all the way up until you do feel something. 
“Ah, shit.” You cry out, hugging his body so tightly against you. “Right there–”
And Jake does it, angling his hips to repeatedly hit the spot inside of you. Knowing you’re sensitive, knowing you can take it, knowing that he can’t when he feels every drop in your body push him out of you. 
Instantly he plunges back in, listening to the wet sounds of all that love you must have for him. He can barely move in this suffocating hug as your body shakes and quivers more than it ever has, even through your past traumas, even through the cold nights this city offers. 
He has spent you and fucked you dry. 
“There she is,” He echoes into your ear. “The girl of my dreams.” 
The only energy left in you is enough to give him a smile before your tunnel vision fades into nothingness. 
It feels calm in the darkness he gives you, and even calmer when you wake up feeling as if all of this was a dream. 
It wasn’t though, because you can feel the way you’re still leaking all over your bed. Your own slick mixed with his, and you don’t even remember when or how he orgasmed because he certainly was taking his time before you initially fainted, but you’re glad he did. You think he is too, with the way he clings to you like a puppy, as if he didn’t just fuck reality straight out of you. 
Lending you the gift of floating, and of pain you find yourself to love. 
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Waking up the next morning felt like you were a new person and you couldn’t be happier to see the saddest version of you die. The only fear you need to have is that Jake may some day choose to leave, and he said himself that he never would. 
You trust him more than anyone, more than yourself even, considering he’s managed to force you into facing so many versions of yourself that you didn’t even know you had. 
This is the first morning you’ve woken up without your skin crawling and you can’t help but shake him awake, destroying that blushed and sleeping face of his. 
“Jake,” You shake him, feeling him stir instantly and lend you a crooked smile. “Wake up.”
You listen to his morning stretch as his body vibrates in a yawn, and then he’s nuzzling his face even further into your naked chest. 
For what feels like hours, you find yourself engaging in pillow talk. Logging into work? Long forgotten. Calling your mother? Forgotten. The pain in your body? Ignored.
You tell him everything. Every detail of your life, your first memory, your first laugh and cry. All of the times your heart has been shattered, your least favorite colors and favorite words in the world. And he just…listens.
He nods, he smiles, he coos and kisses you throughout all of it. 
And then–
“You know, a while back before we met, I came home and noticed some of my things were missing and messed with. I can’t help but feel like he’s known where I’ve been this whole time.” 
Jake stiffens in your grasp before relaxing. It happened so fast that you don’t think anyone but you would have noticed it.
“Some of my panties were gone, and the batteries in my toys went missing weeks ago–not that it matters now or anything.” You continue, watching his face intently. “ At first I thought that maybe I was just forgetful but– now i know that it really was him.” You pause, smiling at him. “I’m just kind of waiting now, wondering if he’s ever going to try and do it again.”
“Do you want me to kill him?” Jake chuckles out as if to offer a funny little solution, one that he has genuinely considered more times than he can count. And he should have already, honestly.
You feel warmer at the way he makes jokes, but you know better than anyone that Jake jumps into action driven only by rage at times.
“He won’t come near you again, love, haven’t I proved that to you already?” He continues, imagining the blood of his man on his fists again. Imagining the way his bones would crack so beautifully. 
You nod in an almost shy way to him.
“You’re safe with me.” He says, wrapping his arms around himself as you cradle him. “You’re safe with me.” He continues, repeating it more to himself because he feels as though he can’t fail you again, “You’ve always been safe.” 
You haven’t believed words so deeply until you met him. 
“He already fucking knows–” He whispers shortly, cutting himself off. “I’ll kill him.” He whispers a bit louder, uncaring if you heard that first slip of his words.
Something in your brain floods at those words. A confirmation that you’ve seen him break before, and it wasn’t your imagination. Your protective, loving, and sweet boyfriend has a side to him that you’ve yet to truly see. Those words were more believable than any of the sweet things he’s ever said to you. 
And still, you almost want to encourage it, reminding yourself of the image of your ex the day he showed up, all bruised up. And then to the image of Jake with his own little battle scar.
Deep down you think you knew what happened.
And you still wonder how such a perfect man fell into your lap? Your bruised up, pain-loving boyfriend, breaking his soft persona and showing you a glimpse of something that feels….unnervingly beautiful to you.
Unsure, almost, you feel. As happy as you are that he lied to you, you try to not think of how Jake found your ex with nothing more than an out-of-context description of your abuse. You try not to think of the way he looked away from you when you mentioned the items in your apartment that went missing. 
You try not to think about how close he lives to you, and how he always managed to show up when you couldn’t hang out. 
How all of his interests matched your own, up until he never spoke about them again when he started staying with you. 
How he only looks at you, how he only talks to you, and about you.
How he always knew what to say to you.
You try not to think about how you saw him toss his own laundry into your washer many nights ago, seeing a glimpse of what you thought could have been a pair of your own missing panties. Or how he always accidentally picked up your toothbrush rather than his own in the mornings.
You push those thoughts far into the back of your mind, knowing that you were just being paranoid, grasping to not trust a single person in this world as you fall into this life with him. Even if all of those instances were with purpose on his end, you know you’d simply accept them as normal. You’d accept him, you wouldn’t think twice. 
Jake is your only safety. He would never do anything to harm you, he’s proved that. 
You hold his head tighter against your chest, breathing out a sigh and accepting everything at face value, pushing back the slight doubt in your head that everything he has done for you, to you, and with you, isn’t normal. 
“Did you tell him already?” You sigh out in a calmer tone, soothing him with your fingers in his hair. “That you’d kill him? Is that really why you had that bruise?”
Jake stiffens under your grasp briefly. 
“What do you m–” He starts. 
“I won’t ask how,” You cut him off. “But thank you.”
He relaxes, thumbs now rubbing hearts into your skin, stomach bubbling in butterflies. 
“I did.” He now admits reluctantly, feeling dangerously close to a truth you don’t need to see or know about. “I couldn’t just let another person think that you still belong to them.”
You pause, then nuzzle closer to him. 
“I knew from the first time I saw you that I wouldn’t let anyone else touch you.” He continues, spilling and spilling. “I knew that you’d be mine.”
You try not to think too hard about it, asking out gently and instead choosing to just love him harder.
“When was the first time you saw me?”
Jake goes silent and tries to read the air in the room, sensing how relaxed you are against him. 
“Eighteenth of October at the supermarket. We both made spaghetti for dinner that night.” He lies, never intending to admit that the first time he saw you was through your window. Never admitting that he actually already knew you by that eighteenth of October. That he followed you to the market.
He says it so confidently, and the fact that he’s right about what you cooked should scare you. The fact that you must have seen him that day too should make you feel unnerved.
You choose to ignore that too. 
“Was your spaghetti good?” You ask, allowing yourself to spiral into the safety that he offers you. The image of your bruised ex boyfriend bringing joy to you, the idea of Jake keeping his promises making your stomach tingle with even brighter joy.
“No.” He admits with a chuckle. “Yours was probably better.”
“You really would kill him, wouldn’t you?” 
Jake nods.
You trust him. 
He’s not lying. 
He would never lie to you. 
Him knowing what you cooked that night is a coincidence. Him remembering the date and month is just him being mindful. Your lost panties must have gotten tangled in his laundry, surely. He found your ex because you probably let sensitive information slip without realizing it. 
He met your mother and uncle by coincidence. 
He’s the perfect man by chance, and you’re lucky to have him. 
“I love you, you know.” You say, feeling him immediately shift away from your chest to look at you.
The look in his eye when he’s immediately getting on top of you, it’s still as if he’s about to wisp away with you in his arms to another realm. You’ve already been there before, and your body warms at the thought. 
“What did you say?” He asks, voice shaking and somewhat far away from your own dissociated reality. 
“I love you.” You say again, watching his lips quiver, and feeling his hands squeeze you. 
He did it. He’s won. 
And at the end of the day, you don’t think Jake could ever lose. After all, you’ve never felt so safe in a grasp as tight as this one, as painful as this one. You’ve never wanted a man to leave his fingerprints on you so bad. 
As you look at him, seeing him lose himself from reality, you follow suit. Losing yourself with him, feeling that painful grasp on you turn into begging hands. Swelling him under your palms, soothing his stinging skin with your lips, listening to him encourage you, knowing that if your ex ever tried to step into this room, he wouldn’t make it out alive. 
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
oh, the horrors, amirite?
this is the last of the fic. there is not a part three.
taglist: @skzenhalove , @taetaemylovie, @soocult, @nyanggk, @grilledbananas, @dneltrise, @becc09, @nielle002, @sjyfolder, @sd211, @moonmoongi, @sweetiewolfie, @ksnooppy, @woongkification, @laxatives4hre, @hiddensideofmoon, @mywaaw, @beomstarz, @multifandombtvh, @heeverseblog, @floclover, @elliesuh, @iloveleeknow, @crazydelulu, @dasa3040, @sluttyhee, @bethroedtojae, @cherryunie, @hiamlili, @seojunandsoju, @parksunghoonsgf, @jungwon-xo, @fxiryeon, @jwnghyuns, @juliesblogs
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kenslilove · 11 months
Text
᯽៰ ͘ ࣭⸰ 𖥔 ͙ࣳ Repost of Draken having the horsecock canon ™️ of the TR universe
AN. I said I needed something heavy on my tongue… ken is heavy, huge, barley fits. Just how we like it. Yes this is a repost, yes it makes me dizzy and I hope it does the same for you <33
W. NSFW 18+ MINORS DNI short and sweet, but not darken’s cock, he’s soft with you despite his massive shlong, very soft pet names like baby girl and princess, size kink for sure, gagging, you just really wanna take him all in but it’s a work in progress ///: <3
Do not repost, share or copy onto any other platform ‼️ reblogs, comments, feedback are greatly appreciated
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He knows it’s not nice to chuckle when your on your knees for him, giving him the pleasure, focusing on his needs
But he just can’t help it. He can’t help it because it’s just so cute how you look at his cock. With furrowed brows, lips pursed with a bit of defeat, want, determination. It’s all tied in on that scrunched up look on your face. Not to mention just how small your hand looks pumping his girth, fingers just barely able to touch one another once you pump all the way down to his base.
He can’t hold it back, it’s a soft little noise that only makes you pout more.
“Baby girl, S’okay—“
“No Ken, m’gunna do it. Gunna take it all.”
You said that last time, and the time before that. And probably even the time before that. He knew you wanted to be able to take all of him, wanted your throat stuffed full of him and your nose pressed up against his pelvic bone.
But Draken also knew, simply put, that he was hung. And even as your pretty lips brushed over his tip, giving it a loving kiss before smearing your shiny lipgloss down his major vein. He knew he wasn’t gunna fit.
“Baby.” He murmured, his hand pausing the strokes to your hair to grab your chin gently. He tilted your face up slightly, holding back the laugh that threatened to bubble up when his cock bobbed, almost the same length as your cute, pouting face. “You know I don’t care that you can’t take it all—“
“But I want to, Kenny. Please, lemme, gunna try again.”
He hummed. He couldn’t say no to you, not when you started to pump him a bit faster, and especially not when you stuck out your tongue, licking at the seam in his balls just to hear him groan softly. His hand was in your hair again, fingers nothing but gentle as he spread his legs a little further apart, letting you get comfortable while he held your nape.
“Alright princess. Go ahead.”
You were almost giddy, pressing a final kiss to his leaky, swollen tip before you opened up your lips nice and wide for him. He watched intently, a small smile staying on his face as you swallowed him up. Your lips were so soft, tongue pressing up against the bottom of his cock as you sank, further… further.
You were about half way when his tip was against the back of your throat. You paused here, and he could feel how your lips started to tremble, how the hand on his base gripped him a little tighter. His cock twitched a bit as you swallowed around him, his tongue coming out to wet his lips as he watched how you hesitantly pushed down further—
You gagged, hard, again. Tears rushing to your eyes and making you pull back. His cock bobbed when it was free, almost smacking back against his abdomen and snapping all the strings of drool so they’d cling to your trembling lower lip. Your whines were precious, eyes shiny when you looked up at him.
“Ken”
“Good job, little love.” He praised you despite the clear disappointment in your own gaze, his thumb pressing a steady pressure against your neck, trying to get you to relax. “Took more than last time—“
“But still not all of it.”
“S’okay.” He shushed you, leaning down to press a fond kiss onto your forehead. Your head laid on his thigh in defeat, lips latching onto the sensitive skin of his base to suckle on it, the sweet vibrations of your whines making his hips twitch. “You don’t need to take it all, little love.”
“I will… m’gunna…” Your mumbles were pressed against his skin, and you looked up at him with certainty, despite the tears and drool that stuck to your cheeks. “I’ll do it, Ken.”
“You will.” He helped you guide your lips back to his tip, his hand still forever gentle as it cupped your jaw, biting his lip as you sucked his tip like your favourite flavour of lollipop. “Eventually. We got all the time in the world to work that pretty throat open, sweetheart”
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hornyhornyhimbos · 1 year
Note
derek morgan with smut starters, 5, 19, and 25. loss of virginity fic
"Thank You" ~ D. Morgan
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Summary: Just a fun lil short story about Reader losing her V-card to Derek
Pairing: Derek Morgan x AFAB!BAU!Reader
Word Count: 1,521
Content Warning: MINORS DNI (18+ content) protected piv sex, use of lube and a condom, praise out the wazoo, nicknames out the wazoo, mentions of toys (no use), thoughts about edging, thoughts about creampie, fingering f!receiving for like a second, Reader has watched porn in the past, Derek Morgan has a massive shlong because I said so
Extra Notes: this might be my favorite smut i've ever written, i love this sm
Originally Written: between 05/15/2023 and 05/23/2023
Smut Starters can be found here!
Criminal Minds masterlist can be found here!
hornyhornyhimbos ask box can be found here!
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Despite trying your hardest, it was no small secret that you were a virgin.
Your coworkers at the BAU had acted fairly normal about this fact, which was a huge relief. Ever since a previous group of friends had teased you for it—made you the butt of their jokes, even—you'd been afraid to let anyone know about your "problem."
At some point, you started to wonder if there was something wrong with you. Every time you'd find someone who made you comfortable enough to finally try, you'd pull back. Try to find a new way to say, "Maybe next time."
That was, until Derek Morgan finally asked you to be his girlfriend.
Derek had been an absolute sweetheart about the whole thing. Taking things at your pace, never pressuring you into anything you didn't want, finding ways to make sure you felt nothing short of loved and comfortable.
The night had started out romantically, Derek taking you out to your favorite restaurant, buying a bottle of your favorite wine, all in honor of it being your six month anniversary.
His hands had been on you all night to some capacity. His hand holding yours for the majority of dinner, his arm around your shoulders as you took an after dinner walk, his palm settling on your leg as he drove you home. Subtle touches, nothing overly sexual, but somehow managing to stir your sex drive wide awake.
Still, you willed yourself to stay calm as he walked you to the door, forcing away the urge to jump his bones right there in the stairwell. He pressed the softest kiss imaginable to the top of your head, a kind smile meeting you as you unlocked the front door.
"I had a wonderful time tonight," he said for probably the hundredth time since picking you up earlier in the night.
An ear-to-ear grin flashed across your face as you stepped inside your apartment. "Me too, Derek."
For the first time that night, an uncomfortable silence fell over the both of you. He stood there quietly, waiting for either a signal to leave or one to let him know that he could follow you inside. When you stayed silent for another fifteen seconds, he took that as his cue to leave, placing a delicate kiss on your lips before stepping toward the stairs. "Happy six months," he said, an almost sad look coming over his face.
It took even yourself by surprise when your hand reached out, wrapping around his bicep to stop him from walking away. "Derek, wait."
He turned to face you, a hopeful glint in his coffee colored eyes. "Yeah?"
You willed yourself to get the words out, knowing your body was ready even if your mouth wasn't ready to admit it. "I think I'm ready."
A confused crease formed between his brows. "Ready for?" his voice trailed as he tried to piece together your statement.
"If you would like," you started, "I am ready for you to take my virginity."
Derek's tongue swiped over his lips as he stepped into your apartment. He nodded softly, his hands settling on your waist and his foot managing to kick the door shut. "I would like that. But I think there's something we need to establish first."
The playful tone on the edge of his tongue indicated that he was already dedicated to making you feel as comfortable as he could. "What's that?"
His lips hovered near your ear, a hand reaching behind him to lock the door. "Virginity is a social construct, baby. I'm not taking anything. Just hoping to give you a hell of a good time."
You already started to feel wet just from the sexy tone on his lips. Your breath hitched when his mouth connected to your neck, sucking tenderly beneath your ear.
He led you toward the hall, hands entangling around each other and breath hot against both of your bodies. Two digits fumbled with the zipper of your dress, Derek already craving to see what you hid underneath. Your own fingers fumbled with the button of his slacks, a moan threatening to tumble off your lips as your hand accidentally met the tent in his boxers.
"You're so pretty," he sighed as finally pulled off your dress, his lips melding to the dip of your breasts once he gained access to them. "Can you tell me what you want?"
You finished stripping him down to his underwear before answering his question. "Touch me."
A smirk appeared on his face before he leaned in, his breath warm against the shell of your ear. "Where?"
Much in the same fashion as earlier, your hand wrapped tight around his wrist, pulling his hand to your front, placing his palm against your covered clit. "Right there."
"Your wish is my command, princess," Derek smirked, driving a finger over the pretty black fabric you'd worn underneath that dress he simultaneously loved and hated.
You stumbled back onto the bed, his thumb rubbing mesmerizing circles over your sensitive bud. It hadn't been the first time your clit had been touched, but it was the first time Derek had touched it, and you hoped to god it wouldn't be the last. Your folds practically swallowed the fabric as you pulsed around nothing, eager for his cock to be buried deep inside you.
"How am I doing so far?" he asked, that sexy smirk still not having retreated.
Your hips bucked as he finally slipped his hand into your soaked panties, one of his long fingers teasing your entrance. "Please, Derek, I need you."
His finger slipped inside you with ease, flexing at the perfect pace. Whimpers fell from your tongue as you tossed your head back against the headboard. "How's this?"
"Derek," you called out, your eyes squeezing shut. "Need you. Your cock."
He pulled his hand away, and you groaned at the loss of contact. "So needy," he teased, fingers hooking around your panties and bringing them down your legs.
In swift motions, he tossed his boxers aside, grabbed the condom he kept in his wallet, and tugged it on. While you didn't have much hands-on experience with dicks, you'd seen them enough in porn and pictures to know that he was big.
Your eyes glassed over as you reached for the lube you kept on the nightstand, secretly grateful for buying yourself a vibrator a few months prior. A small thought of Derek edging you with the toy flooded your mind, a moan coming from your lips as you lubed yourself to the thought.
"What're you thinking about?" he asked as he finished rolling on the latex, moving up onto the bed and hovering above you.
"All the things I want you to do to me," you answered truthfully, rubbing the excess lube over his dick. Derek sucked in a breath at your touch, nearly pushing your hand away.
His hand wrapped around his cock, nudging the head of it against your folds. "Gonna be a big stretch, okay? Just gotta trust me."
You nodded, taking his opposite hand in yours and entwining your fingers through his. "I trust you."
The stretch was massive compared to your toy, though you were glad for the previous experience having prepared you in a way. Derek's hips began to sway, filling you up deliciously. He was barely halfway in before you started to mutter profanities from the painful pleasure he was providing you with.
"That's it, babygirl," he whispered with one particularly hard thrust. "Doing so well. Taking me so well."
Your hips rutted against his, your pussy swallowing him even deeper inside you until his cockhead brushed your g-spot, your head falling against the pillow behind you. "Derek, please," you whimpered, "don't stop."
"Wasn't planning on it," he reminded you, hips bucking faster as he chased your releases.
Your orgasm built like it never had before, your hips meeting Derek's in a frenzied but perfect rhythm. You fluttered around him, pulling him even further into you as the coil in your stomach began to tighten. "I'm gonna-" your words were cut short by a moan as his hand met your clit, soft figure-eights bringing you closer to the edge.
"You can cum. Go ahead, sweetheart," he whispered, and as if on cue, your orgasm washed over you in euphoric relief, white spots blurring your vision as your eyes locked with Derek's.
His own release followed soon after, and while you were sure you didn't want kids any time soon, you secretly wondered what it would've felt like had his seed filled you up rather than the condom. His body rested softly atop yours, making sure not to squish you with his giant frame. Your fingers swiped tiredly at the sweat that had formed on his forehead, your own hair sticking to your face as well.
"Thank you," you sighed, connecting your lips to the soft hair that prickled the top of his head.
His thumb swiped gentle strokes over one of your love handles, his heart beating in a way that only you could make it beat. "No, thank you, sweetheart."
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-> taglist: @hotchandspencearedilfs @1234-angelika @leigh70 @ah-blossom @alexxavicry @topguncultleader @sammyrenae68 @raeluvshammett @esposadomd
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llynwen · 6 months
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hey I saw your tags abt reading the MM book too and I desperately need to hear abt it from more ppl that also shoved it up their ass. Thoughts?
oh brother you have no idea just how many thoughts i have about it.
i really didn't wanna read the book because i knew it was going to make me go insane, but then a friend of mine who i'm trying to force to watch the show (i beg of you martyna. it's so good) decided to get it for me for my birthday.
from the very first few fucking pages i was Perplexed, to put it lightly. i was expecting a light and breezy autobiography with some silly childhood anecdotes and maybe behind the scenes tea about the hollywood crowd. Instead i was served almost 300 pages of trauma dumping, philosophical ruminations and some very TMI info that i wish i never read. i rated this book 5/5 on goodreads btw.
the first thing that really knocked me on my ass was this (i'm ignoring the ketchup story i DON'T want to think about that)
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this should've given me an idea about that kind of book this was gonna be. yet i continued on, blindly, thinking, okay maybe he just wanted to get that out there. more power to him. whatever. (not really).
then the motherfuckers starts explaining his little philosophy, the titular green lights, right? and i'm like, yeah. i agree. you're correct. but why did it take you 50 years to figure this out? i'm 24 and i've been living by this very logic for years. Anyways. i continue reading.
now, bro spends half the book trying to convince us his parents were NOT abusive. i disagree. i think he has stockholm syndrome. i hope he's in therapy. i don't wanna think about this either.
now, this is where i started catching on that he was lying to me. i know it took me an embarrassingly long time, but i was giving him the benefit of the doubt. the undead parrot and the 13 story tree house, however, was what made me go Wait A Damn Minute.
yeah, turns out this book isn't a memoir, it's a mix between a magical realism novel, a self help handbook and a philosophical treaty. served to you on really nice paper (i mean Really nice. i appreciate that) with important words in bold, italics or even sometimes in green (which i appreciate even more, since i am tragically dyslexic).
after establishing that all men do is, in fact, lie, i gained a different outlook on the whole thing (i swear i need to read it again, this time in full englit major mode, make some notes and dissect this thing like it's shakespeare).
i like how candid he is about kind of getting lucky with the whole famous thing. he really took that slutty slutty waist and peculiar bone structure of his and said I'm Gonna Make A Career Out Of This. good for him.
he is, however, just a man, and at the end of the day, you can really tell he sees the world through his privilege. the white straight cis christian rich and famous thing kinda sways him into obnoxious territory in some parts, and it had me seething with rage. like, i too would love to go hike through south america because it came to me in a dream. i'd looooove to go visit my favorite unknown artist in a country on the other side of the world. i was half hoping to read about a piranha biting his shlong off when he went skinny dipping in the motherfucking amazon. (un)fortunately, no dice.
the david and goliath story made me chuckle out loud. he makes it Just believable enough to make you think about it. i like being made to think.
the philosophics continue in the form of the single most cursed wall of chicken scratches i ever did see. i sat there, straining my eyes, trying to decipher this shit, and i'm pretty sure he was on something when he wrote it because all of this
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could be summed up with "you've gotta leave your comfort zone to learn more about yourself and the world." suck my cock dude.
i Really like how he talks about his wife. but then again, when you look at her, there really isn't any other way of talking about her.
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i mean. how the Fuck did his stinky ass pull this goddess. lucky bastard.
now, the 3ish pages where he talks about filming the show (which was the whole reason i even started reading) are criminally underwhelming. i was hoping for a sneak peak into that elusive 450 page manuscript (i will Steal your laptop matthew. watch out), but instead i got a one liner of him being like i wanna play rusty because he's the specialest little girl in the whole entire world and the producers going yeah fine. THAT'S IT. still mad about this, especially because after that he hits you with the love letter to new orleans. i mean be serious. he should Not be allowed to write shit like that.
to summarize, i think he might be a genius, or he might be insane. he is probably both. i want to shove this book up his ass for many reasons, for example him making me learn the names of his kids (i hate knowing things about celebrity kids. leave them out of this) or for making me agree with him. because i do. agree. I don't appreciate his continued efforts to convert me to christianity and i think he's disgustingly obnoxious in some places, but the truth is he has a real cool outlook on a lot of things and i'm very mad that i now respect this bastard for more than his acting skills. i would like to buy him a six pack and listen to him talk about it. i'd love to argue with him, too. i can recommend this book to everybody who feels like they need to experience some psychic damage and maybe an existentialist crisis alongside it. on Very Nice Paper.
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exymybeloved · 1 month
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Cock penis dick shlong balls
member phallus weenie light saber pecker peter prick putz shaft tool johnson manhood schlong willy wood cum shooter 3000 erection bulge length rooster lil' Billy octagon lil' Stevie snake python cobra One eyed monster Trouser snake Tramp killer Slut slayer Lil' Buddy Lil' Friend Halfmast Drill Hammer Screwdriver Screw Nail Joystick Elevator Floppy Drive Hard Drive Hardware Gearshift The worm Bookworm Basalisk Wand Sword Boomerang Hot pocket Cyclops Knight Weiner Hot dog Popsicle Lollipop Kielbalsa Stick Ice Cream Cone Morning Wood The Colonel The Lieutenant The Tank The Battleship The land mine The assault rifle the grenade the machete The water gun Gun Banana Carrot Zuchini Cucumber Pickle The Major The seaman The key My asian buddy The shotgun Water hose Twix Snickers bar Bag of tricks Nuclear missile Hollow point The member Chairman Mao Mallet Pyramid Elephant Fuck Truck The mustang Cane Rod Staff Plug Cigar Nebraska State Capitol Turtle Head Undercover Brother Katana Sniper Rifle The sticky grenade Straw Remote Control The silver bullet Drumstick Bone Mast The machine The goods The hardware Junk The sequoia Bushwhacker The lawnmower Hoover tower The Washington monument The Lincoln memorial The pocket monster The pocket rocket The mongoose The ground squirrel The trombone Dong Torpedo Sausage Philly Cheesesteak The pendulum Babymaker Toy soldier Antenna The titanic Zeus Ares
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strangerstilinski · 9 months
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thinking about joe keery’s visible bulge that was thrust upon us for the majority of seasons one and two. it was so… clear. the knowledge that this man is packing a fat shlong thats minimum four inches when SOFT. i feel haunted.
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lovecatsys · 14 days
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once i have the ability to record my own songs i will have way too much power. i will start recording myself seriously singing tumblr memes. a full song version of "ground control to major shlong" with badly rewritten lyrics. then i will curse this entire website with it.
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apatheticroomate · 6 months
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enough drag queens with cartoonish G cups we need a drag king who slings major shlong
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majorbaby · 2 years
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Honestly fair, I think about that post about how everyone got less slutty when trapper left and the idea that everyone missed Dr turbo shlong so much they just Stopped Fucking, is so funny. Good for him, i think he'd have been proud.
-major majoranon
Fr pour one out for dr turbo shlong (that might sound better than daddy long dick. Thank you.)
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yesthatjwz · 1 month
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The Expedition of Major Shlong. https://jwz.org/b/ykXu
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oli231 · 3 years
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Adam was a Biology student in his University and he was quite good at what he did. He was quite shy, quiet and nerdy and he liked what he did as he was extremely passionate.
Adam was staying back one night to finish some work. He'd finish at about 1 a.m, at this point the lab was completely devoid of human life, except for him of course.
He was preparing to leave when he remembered he had to put back one of the samples that was left on the table. He made his way to the table but as he did he didn't notice that a mop was lying on the floor. He tripped over and fell into a suspicious machine that, as he fell into it, shut behind him completely.
'initiating scanning procedure' the machine said, Adam was confused as to what the hell was going on as the machine scanned him up and down. 'no athlete registered on my harddrive fits your description- initiating jockification assimilation procedure' the machine said as mechanical hands came out and ripped apart all the clothes Adam was wearing and took his glasses off his nose and smashed them up.
Adam was extremely confused, but then he felt like something was being injected into him. He looked down and saw that a small tube with a small syringe was injecting some sort of a blue serum into his balls. He tried to stop it but it's as of the machines read his mind 'subject uncooperative- initiating restraining protocol' as the machine said that four mechanical hands came out and restrained both Adams arms and legs, Adam was now vulnerable and at the complete mercy of the machine.
The Serum continued to be injected into his balls, as it was he felt changes happening. First it obviously began with the balls that started to expand becoming the size of tennis balls. He felt a terrible itch in his balls, but what he didn't know about was that his inferior Nerd sperm was being killed off and replaced with the blue liquid that began to kill and convert the inferior Nerd sperm into superior jock sperm.
Adam began to feel that his dick was also growing, expanding to a whopping 11 inches and being the width of q can of coca cola. The Serum wasn't only limited to the balls it also began expanding throughout his body. He felt extremely warm in his torso as his fat began to be eaten up and converted into muscle, soon enough the fat was completely gone and was replaced by a huge fucking six-pack, two huge pecs at the top, and two huge arms, with the fingers becoming a bit longer to adapt Adam to give a woman as much pleasure through fingering as possible. The Serum also reached Adams legs which also inflated and became pure muscle. Though the true crowning jewel was Adams new V-line that led to his massive hung shlong of meat.
Adam was so confused and began to demand that the machine stop and release him, after the machine was unresponsive to his pleas, in desperation he began shouting for help in hopes someone might hear him... but the neat part about that plan was that no one was there so Adam was quite literally left on the mercy of that machine.
The Serum eventually went into Adams head as it began to redefine it. The spots were being eaten up by the mysterious serum, his face scars that resulted from the spots being eaten up were redefined and ended up making Adams face extremely smooth. His eyes also changed colour and became hazel and his Adams apple expanded which resulted in his voice deepening.
All of a Sudden a fleshlight came out of a compartment and lached itself onto Adams hung 11 inch cum cannon. It started to milk his dick and it became instantly hard. 'memory reassignment procedure in operation' the machine said and Adam felt immense pleasure and lust overcome him, he was no longer a Biology student but he loved wrestling, in fact he was part of the college wrestling team and he loved it. He was also Majoring in Nutritional Health... which was basically a course that aimed on athleticism and dieting advice for people... he aimed to become a personal trainer some day with this. He also loved to fuck and his testosterone levels permitted him to be super horny 24/7 even after cumming he'd still be lusty for more.
Once the mental changes came to a close, the fleshlight began to pump rapidly making Adam... or Adonis as he would now be called, cum torrents of cum out of him. 'fleshlight overload' the machine said as the fleshlight couldn't contain the amounts of cum Adonis was cumming out of his body. The fleshlight would eventually break.
After that Adonis was released. The machine concluded by saying 'Adonis recognised in the system- jockification assimilation procedure complete'. Adonis approached a mirror and looked into it. He was standing completely naked, cum still leaking a bit out of his dick. 'fuck yea I look awesome... time to go and fuck some chicks... I hear some of them should be ovulating about now... better get in there while I can' he looked naughtily at himself perfectly knowing that he wanted to spread his seed and see as many chicks impregnated with it as possible. Adonis pit on a pair of red shorts, and went off to conquer the campus.
Adam would be creaming his pants at the jock that he has become, he loved his ne life as not Adam... but Adonis:
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bokuroskitten · 3 years
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𖤐 you know how it was canon within the haikyuu fandom that Matsukawa Issei had a horse cock— yea, Draken is the Matsukawa of the Tokyo rev fandom, I’m telling ya—
𖤐 warnings: NSFW 18+ MINORS DNI short and sweet, but not darken’s cock, he’s soft with you despite his massive shlong, very soft pet names like baby girl and princess, size kink for sure, gagging, you just really wanna take him all in but it’s a work in progress ///: <3
@suyaluvs @tokyomanjihoe cmere, come get your man. Plz. I can’t do this alone.
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He knows it’s not nice to chuckle when your on your knees for him, giving him the pleasure, focusing on his needs
But he just can’t help it. He can’t help it because it’s just so cute how you look at his cock. With furrowed brows, lips pursed with a bit of defeat, want, determination. It’s all tied in on that scrunched up look on your face. Not to mention just how small your hand looks pumping his girth, fingers just barely able to touch one another once you pump all the way down to his base.
He can’t hold it back, it’s a soft little noise that only makes you pout more.
“Baby girl, S’okay—“ His voice was in a soft coo.
“No Ken, m’gunna do it. Gunna take it all.”
You said that last time, and the time before that. And probably even the time before that. He knew you wanted to be able to take all of him, wanted your throat stuffed full of him and your nose pressed up against his pelvic bone.
But Draken also knew, simply put, that he was hung. And even as your pretty lips brushed over his tip, giving it a loving kiss before smearing your shiny lipgloss down his major vein. He knew he wasn’t gunna fit.
“Baby.” He murmured, his hand pausing the strokes to your hair to grab your chin gently. He tilted your face up slightly, holding back the laugh that threatened to bubble up again when his cock bobbed, almost the same length as your cute, pouting face. “You know I don’t care that you can’t take it all—“
“But I want to, Kenny. Please, lemme, gunna try again.”
He hummed. He couldn’t say no to you, not when you started to pump him a bit faster, and especially not when you stuck out your tongue, licking at the seam in his balls just to hear him groan softly. His hand was in your hair again, fingers nothing but gentle as he spread his legs a little further apart, letting you get comfortable while he held your nape.
“Alright princess. Go ahead.”
You were almost giddy, pressing a final kiss to his leaky, swollen tip before you opened up your lips nice and wide for him. He watched intently, a small smile staying on his face as you swallowed him up. Your lips were so soft, tongue pressing up against the bottom of his cock as you sank, further… further.
You were about half way when his tip was against the back of your throat. You paused here, and he could feel how your lips started to tremble, how the hand on his base gripped him a little tighter. His cock twitched a bit as you swallowed around him, his tongue coming out to wet his lips as he watched how you hesitantly pushed down further—
You gagged, hard, again. Tears rushing to your eyes and making you pull back. His cock bobbed when it was free, almost smacking back against his abdomen and snapping all the strings of drool so they’d cling to your trembling lower lip and chin. Your whines were precious, eyes shiny when you looked up at him.
“Ken”
“Good job baby girl.” He praised you despite the clear disappointment in your own gaze, his thumb pressing a steady pressure against your neck, trying to get you to relax. “Took more than last time—“
“But still not all of it.”
“S’okay.” He shushed you, leaning down to press a fond kiss onto your forehead. Your head laid on his thigh in defeat, lips latching onto the sensitive skin of his base to suckle on it, the sweet vibrations of your whines making his hips quiver. “You don’t need to take it all.”
“I will… m’gunna…” Your mumbles were pressed against his skin, and you looked up at him with certainty, despite the tears and drool that stuck to your cheeks. “I’ll do it, Ken.”
“You will.” He helped you guide your lips back to his tip, his hand still forever gentle as it cupped your jaw, biting his lip as you sucked his tip like your favourite flavour of lollipop. “Eventually. We got all the time in the world to work that pretty throat open, sweetheart”
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sins-and-hubris · 2 years
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It is time,,,,for Elden Ring junkcanons, ft as many characters as I can think of for the time being. If a character ain't here its bc I either forgot about them or don't care
(nsft descriptions below the cut)
Godfrey: Starting out strong with the dude with the biggest shlong, Godfrey's got both length and girth for days and hairy fuckin' balls that would put any other man to shame. Doesn't even think about how huge he is unless he's fucking his wife, of which it suddenly becomes a major issue despite Marika not giving a fuck. Uncircumcised.
Marika: Thick outer lips, thin inner lips and a heavily pronounced clit, close almost to a tdick in size. She's got zero body hair, and though Godfrey often fussed over hurting her, she's got a pretty much uncanny ability to fit (or push out- birthing Omen twins cant have been fun) anything in her vag with little issue. It's kind of eerie, actually, but then again, everything about her is anyways.
Radagon: Very slender, elegant penis, goes more for length than width. Has a noticible cleft midway down his shaft and over/behind his balls that Rennala was quite fond of tracing with her tongue. No body hair, just like his female half. Kind of unremarkable if his dick wasn't somehow the only penis in the world that could be considered 'elegant'. Not circumcised, but he has no foreskin either.
Rennala: f u z z y. The Carian queen does not shave, so she's endowed with lots of thick black curls that contrast prettily with her milky white skin. Her clit is thin and somewhat tucked away between her lips, which are long and folded over in a way that puts ye old yonic flower metaphor to shame. Has some scars around her vaginal opening from giving birth, which Radagon privately used to think of as quite endearing/attractive.
Godrick: His cock is the most average thing about him, honestly- there's just nothing remarkable about it. It isn't big, it isn't small, his balls certainly are there. The only thing that distinguishes it as his is the pale hair at the base and his vaguely wrinkly foreskin. Suffers from erectile dysfunction to boot, partially because he really just fucks bc its the Expected Man Thing to do and partially because there's usually not enough bloodflow going to his crotch to support a full erection. Genuinely prefers eating people out and using toys over his own penis, because he had pretty much no sexual education whatsoever despite getting a lot of cutting remarks about needing to sire an heir, so his relationship with his own masculinity is...tenuous. Uncircumcised, learned what sex was via trial and error.
Morgott: He's got an absolutely MASSIVE cock, except he sees it entirely as a bad thing after he heard some (extremely jealous) soldiers jeering about how the Fell Omen was hung like a beast during some Gelmir conquests. Most of the time it's sheathed, and completely covered by the thicker fur running down his body, but during rut it often makes an appearance regardless of whether or not he wants it out. He's got a thick, bulbous head with the edges covered in a variety of knobbly bumps, a shaft that thickens in the middle, and a knot that swells up when he's close to coming, with similar knobs on it for Extra Texture. He treats it like an alien entity and generally deals with such ruts by hiding in his room and trying his best to ignore it. Doesn't really know what sex is, but he's got a faint idea of the general concept and knows very well that normal people's bodies Do Not do what his does when he's aroused, which means that he never masturbates and is thus an absolute subby disaster when someone who IS into him gets their hands on him.
Mohg: He's got barbs. Dick barbs, primarily situated around the head and down the underside. He's also very thick, has a lot of scalelike ridges going down the sides of his dick, and it's similarly sheathed like Morgott's, though unlike Morgott, his balls are halfway wedged into his body instead of hanging loose like a mammal's would, and his dick is only a slightly lighter colour than the rest of his scales/feathers (with the exception of the head) because he's not furred all over, like Morgott (who has grey furry balls and a bright pink cock). Has very skewed rut cycles because he stays underground all the time, but he knows that jacking off makes it go away, so he's fine to just sit for a quick wank and go about his day instead of wallowing about in misery, figuring that its just some sort of periodic escape of humors that his body needs to do sometimes. Does NOT know what sex is, but would probably be delighted by the concept if someone explained it to him. Sharing fluids is kind of his thing, after all.
Miquella (THE FUCKED UP ADULT THING CURRENTLY IN THE COCOON NOT THE CHILD NOT THE CHILD NOT THE CHILD.): hes trans and has weird pheromone tentacles like that one Australian moth. That's all I have to say. Frankly Miquella terrifies me, and the fandom's obsession with sticking with his child visage vs the thing in-game means that I have a mental roadblock to thinking about him in any sort of sexual context whatsoever
Malenia: Her cunt is so heavily scarred from the rot that it's honestly kind of a miracle that she can feel anything down there at all. While her rotussy does not, in fact, give you scarlet rot, it is acidic enough that going down on her is somewhat of an,,,experience. Her external clit's gone, so she needs a lot of really hard rubbing on the spot it used to sit for her to feel anything- think deep tissue massaging that pussy. Internal penetration that focuses on targeting the g-spot and that one sweet spot near the cervix also goes a long way. Unfortunately, she has no idea what sex is, and any attempts to show her will likely end up with you getting kicked halfway across the bedroom (either out of shock or bc she thinks its some sort of attack).
Ranni: On her doll body? She's got nothing, at least not until she takes you as her consort. Then she'll likely just either install a fleshlight to tide you over or buy a dildo and strap-on (I hc her as trans so giving herself a penis directly would incite dysphoria she'd never want to admit to). She DOES intend to give herself a nice vagina, it's just that she kind of was too busy with killing god to think about what she wanted her own cunt to look like, and now that she DOES have the time, she wants to sit and pick one out. Give her some time. Knows what sex is and is very smug about it.
Blaidd: What can I say other than big thick knot? He's a wolf guy, having a big dick and a big knot is mandatory. Unfortunately, he also doesn't really know what sex is, because I think its funny. Or, well, he knows the basics of how it works, but only through the pipeline of others talking about it, so his actual perception of how sex is supposed to work is way off the mark.
Radahn: Hung like a horse, hur hur hur. But seriously I have zero thoughts about this guy. He's great but the closest thing I can get to visualizing him with any sort of sex thing is him sneaking away from sex ed lessons so that he could go ride around on Leonard, and then only realizing once he got too fuckin big to fuck that skipping out on the only adequate sex ed tutorial in the entire Lands Between was, in fact, probably an issue. The Golden Order's teachings on sex ain't shit. Circumcised.
Rykard: Used to have a pretty average dick, up until the point that he fused with a giant god-devouring serpent. Now he's got a pair of hemipenes that are each the size of a man, barbed down the entire underside, and has pubic hair (???) thats made of writhing tortured souls. He's got an entire hardcore bdsm dungeon, so he def. knows what sex is. Circumcised prior to the vorefest.
Varre: Pretty average sized dick, unremarkable apart from the fact that it has a kink in the middle that points to his left, making positioning kind of interesting sometimes. That's not too much of a bother to him though, as he enjoys the challenge and likes to be fucked and dommed just as much as he enjoys fucking and domming. Multiple tiny scars on his cock and balls from knicking himself with a knife during masturbation. Unfortunately the only person in the entire Mohgwyn dynasty that knows what sex is, and either uses that knowledge as ransom or gives out horribly inaccurate information for the laughs. Self-circumcised.
Rogier: He's trans, and he went and nabbed himself a penis as soon as he realized that Fia's magic mirror does free sex change surgery. He's got a nicely curved, slender, right-leaning dick that he's quite proud of, and a neatly trimmed bush of pubic hair to accent it. Circumcised.
Fia: Thin-lipped and whispy-haired, with a similarly thin yet prominent clit. Unfortunately, she has an unusually large hymen, so vaginal sex is typically quite painful for her. She and Rogier had a sort of fwb relationship where they fooled around while talking about death
D: Kind of short and slightly thick dick, very sparce body hair. Wishes eternally that he had a chance to bury it in Rogier's ass before they parted ways. Regularity hears Fia and Rogier fucking and absolutely hates it. Surprisingly for a Golden Order boy, he's circumcised.
Master Hewg: His cock is as rough and knobbly as the rest of him, with a lot of ridges and bumps along the shaft. His balls are similarly scaly, and constantly hang low from the heat of the forge. He never fucks anymore, though, as it reminds him of the days before Marika stuck him in the Roundtable Hold, so sex just makes him depressed.
Millicent: Basically Malenia's pussy, but unrotted! She's got plump lips, a moderate amount of red hair, and a short, fat clit yet untouched by rot. Her cunt is similarly acidic, however, so check that you don't have any wounds on your hands or your dick before fucking her, or you'll feel it. Learned about sex while roaming about Caelid, but she's still a virgin due to it being, well...Caelid. Not much worthy of fucking in Caelid
Coryn: Most boring penis in the Lands Between. Not that it matters much to him, because he's too busy thinking about god to entertain matters of the flesh. Picture a genaric white man's cock and you have Coryn's. Uncircumcised, vague idea of what sex is. Luckily though, he doesn't look down on people for having it- the Golden Order, while genocidal as shit and quite reminiscent of crusader-era Christianity, is just really fucking bad at general education
Enysha (or however the fuck you spell his name): This Old Man Cunt Can Kill A Man
Gideon Ofnir: Why would you want to fuck him? He sucks. That being said, he's acceptably well-endowed and knows pretty much all the tricks in the book, so if you really want to know, he's probably not the worst guy to ask. In fact, this dude probably hoards all the sex ed knowledge in the Lands Between. Fuck you, Gideon
Dung Eater: Don't ask.
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nochuvalencia · 4 years
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𝐁 𝐁 𝐇 𝐌 𝐌 - jjk
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I was basically inspired by these ^^^ pics of jk bc wow hot hi
⚠️ ALSO QUICK DISCLAIMER :: this is my first fanfic on here so it might be terrible but enjoy anyway. ⚠️
𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 :: reader x crimeboss!jk
𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 :: bitch you better have his money.
𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦 :: ABSOLUTE SMUTTY FILTH heh angst too ig
𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵 :: 11.9k
𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 :: long haired tatted jk, that’s it, that’s the warning, uh kinda sketchy plot hsjsjsj, WOW ANGST ASF at the beginning tho, dub!con towards the middle don’t hurt me, fuck or die ig, gunplay????? yeah????? jks BLATANT OVERUSE of pet names, dacryphillia, major-ish character death, describing the injuries on a dead body, jk has a sir kink ig??? um excessive over exaggerated choking bc jks hands yum, explicit seggs, rough jk, he’s kinda mean, dom!jk, sub!reader, oral m&f receiving (facefucking on both ends), coochie sniff if you squint, coochie slaps if u squint too, spanking, OVERSTIMULATION, unprotected seggs, degradation, he calls her a bitch once idk, other bad names, praise too ig, jk gives an ultimatum, SLIGHT aftercare, he kinda like switches from flirty to murderous like a bunch of times it’s kinda weird, jk has an impossibly huge shlong obv, contemplating death, super mature themes, reader is a BIG fucking crybaby, overuse of the word fuck, corruption kink at the end if u squint super hard, also DUB!CON in case you didn’t see it, at this point I should just write what it doesn’t have
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“If you’re not out of my house in 3.4 seconds, I'm dragging you out by the testicles” you uttered, your alarmingly calm voice laced with raw brutality as hot tears cascaded down your burning cheeks, your arm outstretched and pointed toward the blinding light of the hallway that contrasted with your dark bedroom. You said nothing more, with your eyes trained angrily at one of the four blank tan walls nearby, not possibly being able to bear speaking to or sparing a glance into the eyes of a cheating whore. The woman you had just caught him with scurried past you wearily, a terrified and confused glint in her eyes as she passed your frigid frame sans underwear, with her sparkly silver pumps dangling from her fingers and a wrinkly silver dress hanging limply from the clutches of her other hand. The man in question shuffled cautiously around the bed, clutching the exposed parts of his body and approaching you with extreme hesitation and outstretched hands, as if trying to calm the already blazing flames of your fury. He laid a cold, rough hand on your shoulder squeezing softly, a motion that once brought you comfort but only added the all consuming hatred that bubbled up inside you akin to ravenous bile filling up the pit of your belly. “Did you not hear what I said? Get out.” You spat, glossy eyes still pointed toward anything but him.
“____ please” he croaked, like the slimy frog he truly was, his voice dripping in false agony which only neared you closer to the brink of undoubtedly committing an act of extreme violence against that man. “Please baby it wasn’t-'' you blanked. He was about to make an excuse. A stupid, rediculous, horrible, completely false excuse which you had absolutely no patience to hear. So you snapped, harshly shrugging your shoulder and sending his arm flying back to his side. He stepped back, ceasing his incessant chatter as he stared at you, a surprised expression painting his “pained” features. He wasn’t accustomed to you acting like this, you were never one to raise your voice or act out in any sort of way so he stood there, eyes widened in dumbfounded silence and you took this chance, bending down, scooping up as much of his discarded clothing as you possibly could and throwing it in his face, your rage bubbling over into something much more carnal as you inhaled deeply through your nose.
“Shut the fuck up and leave!” He scrambled to catch as many clothes as he could and was taken aback by your abrupt outburst. He stood silent once again though this time, he was making the face he often made when forcing himself to cry. It was the face he made around his mother to get out of family responsibilities. The face he made around his friends when guilt tripping them into buying him drinks, and now he's using it for you. To guilt you into taking pity on his pathetic actions which merely was the catalyst for your unforgiving violence. In an instant you were behind him, heaving him out of the door with your bare hands, pushing with all your might, using the immense pain coursing through your limbs as motivation to drive his beefy frame further and further out of the bedroom, down the hallway, into the living room and closer to the door yelling “I said leave! Leave! Now!” Pushing harder and harder with every word you choked out. The tears began to flow faster, clouding and distorting your vision as your face contorted into an expression of pure anguish until finally, he was forced out of the open doorway and into the main hallway of your apartment building. You promptly slammed the door in his face and the only thought traveling though your mind was ‘thank god she left that door open’ because you wouldn’t have been able to force him through it otherwise.
You stood silently for a few seconds, back to the door, face still slick with tears as the cool wood on your back shook senselessly with every beat of his fist and muffled shout of his voice crying phrases like “____ open the fuking door!” , “this is my apartment too baby come on” and other variations of the sort. Your mind was empty while you remained there, letting the harsh reality sink in like the slowest molasses. You allowed that man, that pig, to take 10 years of your life. 10 years of your prime. 10 years that you'll never get back no matter how much you beg and plead for it. Come to think of it, you had shaped your entire life around him. His influence was there no matter how much you wished it wasn’t. His residue staining your life like the blackest ink of which you would never be able to rid yourself. At the surfacing of these thoughts, you’d finally broke down and cried, like ugly cried. Broken heaves and sobs escaped your throat until you felt like you were suffocating as you slid down the door, not caring if he heard your wails and whines of torment on the other side of the polished mahogany. You actually hoped he did hear, you wanted him to hear the anguish and grief he put you through. You wanted him to hear you cry out all of your attachment and love for him until there was none left, so he knows the tears flowing from your body hold all of the affection you harbor for him. All ten years of attraction flowing out in a gigantic tsunami of grief that can only end in a new start.
Your mind played through all the memories, and the small amount of good times you had with each other while you sobbed mercilessly, also coming to the realization that he never did anything for you. Ever since you were 14 you’d been changing everything about yourself for him, while he merely lived his life, dragging you along like a supportive little puppy and rewarding you with cheap token gifts and mediocre sex once in a blue moon.
He wanted to attend university in your hometown so you abandoned your dream school, which accepted you, to attend a closer college. He made the decision to study abroad, so you had to drop everything and move to Australia for him. He wanted to wait to have kids so you froze your fucking eggs for him. He got a great new job at a large company in Asia, so you dropped everything again and moved to South Korea. You learned Korean for him. You have the same friends as him. You even cut a few family members off because he was “uncomfy” around them. He wouldn’t even go down on you because it also made him ‘uncomfy’, which should’ve been a red flag from the start. You did all of this bullshit in the haze of love. The promise that he’d reciprocate all of it in affection and adoration, which he didn’t, and now you’re sitting in your living room bawling your brains out because you were too lovestruck to see the signs.
After sobbing hysterically for what seemed like hours, you’d sat limply in front of your door, slouching back onto it as if it were a plush armchair and staring blankly into space, your mind completely empty. Feeling overwhelmed and exhausted beyond belief, you leaned forward, groaning in anguish as your tired muscles cried out in distress after being immobile for more than four hours. Crawling over to the couch, you tiredly flung your nearly paralyzed body onto the soft cushions with a sigh, not even bothering to pull the fluffy throw blanket over your body as your entire frame began to steadily shut down. Before your eyes completely shut, you caught a glimpse of the clock perched on the wooden tv stand which read 11:11 and scoffing quietly as you thought to yourself, ‘I thought that was supposed to mean good luck’ and you gave in to the delicious expanse of slumber.
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You were startled awake by the incessant pounding of your now ex-boyfriends fist on the door, again. For the past 4 days since you’d forced him out, he’d show up outside your door at the ass crack of dawn just banging on the door profusely, as if that would persuade you to open it an inch. He had a schedule, he’d come at 5am, before he went off to work, then at 12:30 on his lunch break, then again at 9:45 just to make you miserable before you went to bed. You’re actually surprised the neighbors haven’t complained to the landlords yet. You tossed the blanket off of your sticky body, kicking and thrashing wildly due to the annoyance caused by that nuisance.
You cried more times than you can count during these last 4 days, especially during the times he would attempt to win you over with sappy shit like “baby, you’re my everything, you’re all i’ve ever wanted”, the lyrics to one of your favorite songs or, “you’re my forever ____, you can’t just throw 10 years away babe” to which you cried about for 3 hours after he’d said it, after realizing that he actually wasted 10 fucking years of your life. Anger bubbled up in the pit of your stomach as you listened to the repetitive banging of his fist and at this point you had enough and came to the decision it was finally time to pack his shit. Stomping into the living room, you grabbed a necessary box of bags that sat on the coffee table in the center of the room, figuring you were ready to use it. With a final nod of your head, you marched into your shared bedroom and opened all of the cabinets and drawers that contained the plethora of his belongings and flinging them on the floor, grabbing the box of xl trash bags you’d snagged on your march in here and started tossing things in left and right, not caring about the brand name or the state of the fabric or anything for that matter. All you saw was red as your eyes welled up with tears for the first and probably not last time that day.
“I can’t do this” you sobbed out, voice hoarse as you fell to your knees, ignoring the rugburn that was soon to form on those areas as your shoulders shook with every harsh breath you took. You had been dreading this task. Dreading it only for its significance that once you packed all his things and tossed them out, your relationship would be truly over. You definitely didn’t want him back but this would be the first time you’ve been alone in 10+ years and you were not certain you were prepared for that let alone wanting it. Inhaling shakily, you sniffed, ridding your face of any moisture as you cleared your throat and walked back into the kitchen, grabbing the bottle of chardonnay from your anniversary that fell on the week prior and venturing back into the closet to resume your task. You weren’t much of a drinker but for this task, you’d need a bottle or two.
A few hours later, he’d finally went off to work and you sat in the doorway of the closet, drunkenly dressed in the wedding gown you were made to be wed in this summer still combing through all of his clothing and tossing them messily into a bag that laid open on the floor beside you. You took a swig from the bottle, hissing softly at the satisfying burn that seared it’s way down your throat and rubbing at your puffy eyes with the knuckle of your index finger. The closet was mostly bare, except for a rack with some of his clothes and one rack of semi-expensive clothing his cheap ass reluctantly purchased for you and you glanced around, catching a glimpse of some ugly floral fabric in the corner of the small space. Getting on your hands and knees you reached a limp hand out, taking hold of the horrendous fabric and dragging it out with a groan, eyes wide at the surprising heft of the object in your hand.
It was a pillowcase. A pillowcase full of something brick shaped. You raised an eyebrow quizzically before reaching into the bag and pulling out a fat stack of cash. Taking a sharp intake of breath you paused, staring blankly at the wrapped wad in your hand and cocking your head to the side. You peeked over into the bag after a few minutes, eyes popping out of your skull as they feasted on more huge stacks of money. It was Korean currency but there had to be at least 250k USD worth in the entire sack. You furrowed your brows, tossing the money back into the pillowcase forcefully as a tornado of thoughts whirled in your mind. Had he been saving behind your back? Was he planning on getting rich then eventually hanging you out to dry for some younger girl? How long has he had all of this? Where the fuck did it all come from?
You looked back at the money then back at the corner you found it in, squinting as you spotted some more ugly purple fabric. Crawling behind the clothing earnestly, you managed to fish out 4 more pillowcases full of money. You stifled a laugh, having never been in the presence of so much currency, you guessed it had to be more than 1 million dollars. You smiled for the first time in 4 days, lips curling up into a wide joy filled expression as you dumped all of the money onto the rugged floor of the closet. With all of the alcohol coursing through your veins, (almost a whole bottle) you didn’t hesitate to grab the biggest tote bag you own and stuff as much money as it could hold inside. You figured it was the least he could do after cheating on you.
He deserved to pay, and you obviously deserved a raise.
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It was a full on shopping spree. After throwing all of his shit into bags, you tossed them outside your door and left with as much money as you could carry before he could come back on his lunch break. You even came back to get some more money, just to go out and spend it again. To say you splurged would be an understatement, you spent almost half of the money on clothes, shoes, a hair and makeup appointment, a manicure, a new car, and you even paid rent for six months after taking his name off the lease.
So here you were, struggling up the stairs as quick as you could, due to the fact that it was 9:30 and you were trying to avoid seeing him at his 9:45 visit. Your feet screamed in agony in your new jimmy choo pumps, because you’d been on them all day, and you had at least six shopping bags hanging from each arm, all full with an assortment of gaudy items such as shoe boxes, makeup products, and clothing. You had finally reached the door after a while, smiling at the absence of his bags which meant he took them and swiftly unlocked the door, clamoring in and tiredly dropping the bags in your hands. With a sigh, you locked the door, running a hand through your freshly styled hair as you rid your face of the designer sunglasses that shielded it. Kicking off your shoes, you hummed gratifyingly at the pleasurable feeling of bare feet and shuffled over to your couch, plopping down on the end cushion groggily.
A soft buzz in your back pocket caught your attention as you carefully fished out the new phone you purchased and unlocked it with your perfectly manicured fingers, raising an eyebrow quizzically as the texts rolled in, ‘i thought i blocked him’ you thought, preparing to do it a second time before a few texts caught your attention and you froze on the spot, chuckling heartlessly at his words.
+82 2 2263 5950 : whose car is in our parking spot?
+82 2 2263 5950 : did you already move on?
+82 2 2263 5950 : wow whore
You rolled your eyes, wondering where he attained the gaul to accuse you of a feat such as that. Calling you a whore as if that name isn’t suitable for himself. Even more so than you. You decided to text him back, feeding off of an unknown source of confidence as your fingers furiously tapped along the screen.
me : it’s my car asshole
me : bought it with the money u left me
me :thx baby <3
+82 2 2263 5950 : what money?
me : the money in the closet you didn’t bother telling me abt u dumb fuck
+82 2 2263 5950 : don’t use that money
me : why should i listen to you?
me : you aren’t my bf
+82 2 2263 5950 : no seriously ____ don’t use that money wtf is wrong with u
me : already did bye babe
You blocked him as quickly as you could, face burning with absolute anger as you tossed your phone on the cushion beside you. Who is he to tell you what you could or couldn’t do? You had come to the decision then and there that you wouldn't let him treat you like a child. He wasn’t your dad. Thanks to him you barely speak to your dad. The only thought going through your mind at the time was ‘fuck him.’ Before you could delve into your thoughts any further, it started. His incessant pounding on the door. Again. Although, this time it was much more frantic, desperate. He was much louder with his pathetic pleas and whines, crying out “please don’t use that money!”, “Listen to me god damn it!”, “___ open the fucking door now!” But you stood your ground, ignoring him once again as you did for the past few days.
Just to escape the racket of his wails of desperation, you retreated to your room, slipping on one of his expensive balenciaga sweatshirts you kept for yourself and climbing into the cool blankets, burying yourself under the plush fabric and folding your pillow over your ears. You knew this would be the longest night of your life..
And you were correct, It was the longest night of your life. He never truly got the memo that you would not be coming out to communicate with him so he finally left at around 1:30 in the morning. You had slept horribly, tossing and turning as the aftermath of his cries and pleads left a print on your mind and tormented you at all hours of the night, you didn’t manage to get any real sleep until around eight and woke up a mere five hours later in a state of confusion. It was well past noon and yet it was silent, you had woken up of your own volition, not because of some crazy man outside of your apartment screaming like a banshee. In due time, you had come to the conclusion that he had finally given up and gone about his day without banging on his ex-girlfriend's apartment door like an idiot at all hours of the day.
This theory was almost set in your mind until you heard a knock. Groaning violently, you stared up at your ceiling, eyebrows furrowed as you erased that theory from the whiteboard in your cortex. Fully prepared to ignore the person at the door, you rolled over to your side until another knock was heard. This wasn’t him. This couldn’t be him. The knocks were way too soft, they lacked an element of urgency, desperation. They were simply just way too calm. So, you sat up, swinging your legs over and reluctantly standing up, before making your way into the living room to be greeted with another knock and a smooth male voice calling out. “Miss ___ ___?”
You glanced wearily though your peep hole to be met with a tall male, dressed in a blue and white uniform. “Looks like a cop. He called the fucking cops on me, shit.” you whispered to yourself, voice small as you held onto the door handle. Figuring it’d be worse to make him wait, you opened the door, being met with the warm, dimpled smile, of the decorated individual. “Yes, i”m ____” you respond, shoving your hands into the pockets of your sweatshirt and looking everywhere but him, which probably seems more suspicious than anything but you were too riddled with anxiety to care. The officer clutched a navy blue manilla folder in his hand and opened it promptly in order to sift through its contents.
“Hi, i’m officer Kim.” he breathed out, calmly bowing and resuming his apparent spiel, “do you know this man?” he pondered, raising an eyebrow quizzically as he pulled a photo from his folder with calloused fingers and lifted it, spinning it around to face you. Your eyes widened slightly upon being shown a picture of your ex and you nodded hesitantly.
“He’s my ex boyfriend- well ex fiance I guess.” you responded, voice barely audible as your mind raced faster than the speed of sound. You asked yourself what he could’ve done that was bad enough for the police to show up at your door. Maybe you had been too harsh on him and he had gotten into one to many bar fights, maybe he robbed a bank at gunpoint, maybe he stole some old lady’s car and filled it with off brand mayonnaise before he returned it. All your questions- all your thoughts stopped as Officer Kim responded, running a tired hand through his hair.
“He passed, earlier today.” he paused, giving you time to digest things and you froze, staring at his face blankly as your mind processed what you had just been told and you hummed questioningly, your throat becoming tight with realization. “It happened around five this morning,” he paused again as you stood in complete silence. Sure you hated him but you’d never wish death upon another person, especially him. You hate him now but you were in love with him once too. You hate him now but, he was the closest person in your life. He was all of your firsts, your fiance, your best friend. You thought you wouldn’t be able to get all of that back because of the breakup but now you truly can never get any of it back, because he’s dead. Then, you started to cry, for the hundredth time this week but this one was different. You weren’t crying because you missed him, or wanted him to come back like all the other times, as horrible as it sounds. You were crying because you felt bad. Because of his short life that was ripped from him by the unforgiving hand of death. You weren’t crying because of him, you were crying for him. A hand on your shoulder interrupted your sobs and you wiped your face, glancing up at the culprit with glassy eyes. “I’m so sorry for your loss...” he paused, giving you a few moments to breathe as he rubbed your shoulder comfortingly before speaking again, “but we have an idea of who did it, it would be helpful if you just came down to the station with me for some questioning.” he asked softly as the shaking sobs and whimpers that came from your body slowed to a halt and you nodded.
“Yeah, uh. Let me just go get dressed.” You muttered, smiling up at him softly and shuffling back to your room to prepare. The longest night of your life was about to turn into the longest day.
And you were correct again as you stood in front of your apartment door after the absolute, and I cannot stress this enough, longest day of your life. Your ex was murdered, brutally, and they made sure to go over all of the gory details with you while you were at the precinct, they even took you to see his body, which made you cry because it was mangled almost beyond recognition and you were horrified. Apparently, he had been tortured for hours, which explained all the bruises, gashes, and burn marks on his body, strangled, thus the huge ring shaped mark around his neck, and dumped into a river, which made his body all pruny and wrinkled. You had spent 10 long hours at the police precinct and it was now nearing midnight as you fished your keys from your pocket in order to unlock the door. Inserting your key, you jiggle it around in the lock for a minute before realizing it was already unlocked initially. Figuring you had left it unlocked accidentally in your depressed haze, you pushed your way into your apartment and locked it promptly, pressing your forehead into the cool wood of the door. You sighed softly, relaxing only for a minute as you absorbed your surroundings before freezing as you heard the rhythmic tapping of someone's foot.
“Long day huh?” the voice was deep, one you hadn’t heard before as you remained facing the door, your grip of the handle tightening until your knuckles turned white. He spoke again, “you must be ____.” he murmured softly, sending a terrified shudder down your spine. “I’ve been wanting to meet you but he said you were off limits. You know, he talks about you a lot-...” he stopped himself as if realizing something, “well talked, I mean.” the man mused, an ominous chuckle flowing from his mouth.
“Who are you?” you rasped, attempting to conceal any cowardice but blinking your eyes harshly as your voice broke. You vaguely hoped this was one of your ex’s friends coming to visit, at an odd hour of the night, sitting ominously in the dark of your apartment waiting for you to come home just to say hi but the chances of that actuality was very slim.
“None of your business” the man retorted, a smirk evident in his ominous tone. “Now, let’s get down to business little dove,” you furrowed your brows at the nickname. You had never been called a nickname, especially by a man who randomly just snuck into your apartment one night. Your ex only ever called you baby or babe so little dove was different for you. It seemed endearing in the worst type of way. “I want the rest of my money.” he paused, “I found half of it in a closet here, and he said you might know where the rest is.” he paused again, only this time a sound is heard, a metal rattling of some sort that ricochets off of the walls of the apartment like a stray jumping bean in a pill case. Then it hits you, he has a gun, and he just shook it as if he intends to use it. . “Don’t make me ask again sweetheart.” Your eyes widen and well up as your head falls down, knowing you're going to die today and you take a deep breath, telling yourself you’d be ready for whatever happens so you decide, if you’re gonna die, you should at least know the name of the man that’s gonna kill you so you scrape together every last drop of confidence you can muster and ask once more.
“I said, w-who are yo-” you choked out, in an attempt to hold onto the last shred of your dignity as you blinked back the tears threatening to fall from your glassy eyes. However, your small shred of confidence is promptly ripped from your grasp as the man cuts you off mid sentence, slamming his gun down onto a hard surface with a loud clatter. You jolt, crying out softly as the tears you’d been holding back with all your might fall onto the ground before you.
“I said none of your fucking business bitch where’s my fucking money.” he spat, his sinister tone draing a choked sob from your thoat as you realized, you wouldn’t be getting anything you wanted today. “Answer me” he said, alarmingly calm as the sound of him cocking his gun travels directly to your mind.
“I spent it” you muttered between your soft hiccups and stiffened slightly upon hearing a heavy footstep approach you, then another footstep, and another, and another until they cease, and you can feel the man's warm breath raising the hair on the back of your neck. All your readiness for whatever happens and willingness to die flies out of the window as you lean your head on the door once more, taking a shaky breath as you begin to plead, aware of how pathetic you sound and part of the reason why you have such a strong urge to cry harder. “Please don’t kill me” you whined desperately as you feel the cold metal of the gun barrel resting on your shoulder.
“Relax little dove” he whispered, his lips brushing the back of your ear and sending a chill rushing through the entire expanse of your body. “Just find a way to pay me back and we’re even,” he continued calmly, his raspy voice reverberating in your eardrums as you think through what he just said carefully. You gasp and sniffle, shaking your head softly and lifting it slowly from the wooden door frame.
“I-” you stopped, taking a deep breath and preparing yourself as much as you could for his response then opened your mouth to continue. “I don’t have that kind of money” you whispered hesitantly, shutting your eyes tightly, allowing nothing to escape but the numerous tears that fell to the ground in anticipation of his actions. There was an eerie silence as he contemplated your words before he abruptly turned away, lifting the gun from your shoulder and holstering it in the waistband of his jeans, causing you to let out a wavering breath you’d been holding that entire time. His hand traveled back up, taking refuge on your left shoulder as the other hand made its way up your right arm, the warmth setting your skin aflame and sending a shockwave of warmth coursing through your body.
“There is another way you could pay me back.” his velvet voice rasped, stressing the word ‘another’ in a way that you immediately understood his insinuation and you took a sharp intake of air, bracing yourself for what he was about to say next. But he didn’t say anything for a moment, letting his hands do the talking for him as he gripped your arms softly, using his hands to spin you around and face him. You whirled around, yelping in surprise but stopping when you were met with the most exquisite, carnivorous brown eyes you had ever seen in your life that were accompanied by full pink lips and a tousled bunch of fluffy black hair you just wanted to run your hands through. Even in the darkness of night, the moonlight streaming through the kitchen window illuminated the room enough for you to trail your eyes down his face and get a vivid idea of what he’d look like with illumination.
Yummy as fuck.
Your eyes began to wander down to his exposed collarbone and before they could travel any lower, his fingers roughly grabbed your chin, forcing your gaze upward until you met his borderline cannibalistic gaze, which crushed you into nothing. He cocked his head to the side, a mischievous glint in his eyes as the corner of his lips turn upward slightly. “He was always bragging about you… saying,” he speaks, his sultry tone lulling you into a state of compliance as he spoke, “you’re such a good fuck,” he continues, placing his left hand gently on your waist and stepping even closer, if that’s possible, his soft breath hitting your face with every word as he speaks. “Your sweet little cunt is so tight” he glances down at your lips, running his thumb over your bottom lip “your mouth feels like heaven” he pauses again, running his hand down to hold the side of your neck softly to which you gasp “maybe i’d like a demonstration little dove.” he smiles, a twisted horrifying smile that snaps you out of his seductive trance and back to reality as your eyes widen and you pull yourself quickly out of his hold, running over to the couch and bracing yourself on it.
“No” you cry out, out of breath for some reason as you swallow thickly and shake your head. “No, I'll find a way to pay you back, I promise.” you plead, praying he wasn’t going to kill you on the spot and that he hadn’t noticed your blatant ogling. He probably did but at this point you didn’t care, you just wanted him gone.
“Whatever you say sweetheart” he replied, emitting a dark chuckle “call me if you change your mind, my number’s in your phone” he opened the front door and you glanced back at him, noticing the way his all black attire contrasts with his tan skin, and most of all, you notice the full sleeve of tattoos that ran down his right arm. Heat crawled up to your face as you realized you were gawking again and you nodded in response, feeling unable to form the words to respond with. He only uttered the words “you have a week.” before the door slammed and you were left alone in the dark.
You ran your fingers along the side of your neck where the aftermath of his touch lingered like a searing residue. No one had ever touched you like that, especially your ex. He was the man that took your virginity and was the man there for every time after so you’d become accustomed to his textbook missionary vanilla sex that left you touch starved and unfinished every. single. time. But you’d finish yourself off each time, feeling bad because you thought he was trying his hardest and truly didn’t understand how to please women. But as time went on, you realized he didn’t care about your pleasure and too enveloped in his own release to ever worry about your needs, but were too deep in love with him to care.
Your thoughts were interrupted when your phone went off to signal a text and upon picking it up there were two text messages from an unknown number that sent a shiver down your spine which read.
+82 2 5284 8735 : don’t try to run
+82 2 5284 8735 : we’ll hunt you down little dove
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“Can’t you just take the shit back?” You questioned frantically, clutching the phone by your head until your knuckles turned white, rolling your eyes tiredly when you got no response. “They hung up, great” you deadpanned, plopping onto the couch you had been pacing in front of. It has been 6 days since the man showed up and you were running out of time and hadn’t slept in two days, your mind running frantically with the thought of him coming back to see you nearly empty handed. Well, not exactly empty handed. You had managed to get 253k of the whopping +400k dollars you had spent of his money and after not being able to return the car, manicure, hair appointment, rent, and a bunch of clothes and shoes, you were manic. Some might even say a bit crazy. Many of the stores and the dealership knew you by name because of the amount of times you called them. You dropped your phone into your lap, burying your face in your hands and wishing someone was here to console you through this but the only person you knew even remotely enough to offer any consolation was your ex. You wish he was alive so you could punch that bitch in the face and ask him what kind of shit he got himself into because the man that paid you a visit was most definitely not from corporate.
You sat for a silent minute deliberating if you should text the mystery man and take him up on his offer. You had asked yourself, is it really worth your life? Were you really going to die because you didn’t want to sleep with the hot guy you stole money from? The answer at first was yes because you still had your pride intact then but now, you had been starting to second guess your confidence in getting all the money back. After all, the deadline is tomorrow. You still had your hesitations, the only man who has ever seen you in such a lewd nature was your ex. You didn’t know if you were ready for sex with another person, even if he was the hottest man you’d ever seen. But, against your better nature, you convinced yourself that your ex was gone and this was bound to happen sooner or later, so why not sooner?
You grabbed your phone in earnest before anything inside you could convince you to stop and unlocked it, opening the messages for his number and typing out your text, hitting send before any sort of regret had the chance to sink in.
me : i’ll take your offer
me : this is ____ btw
You placed your phone down on the couch cushions beside you and chewed nervously on the not so fresh manicure that was still on your nails. To your surprise, his reply came in quickly and you frantically reached for your phone as the dings came rolling in.
+82 2 5284 8735 : i know who you are
+82 2 5284 8735 : i'll be there in 20
+82 2 5284 8735 : be ready sweetheart
Your heart thumped restlessly as you shot up from your seat shouting “twenty minutes?!” and you cried out nervously. You hadn’t even seen his face in good lighting and you didn't know his name so you’d basically be fucking a complete stranger which scared you enough as it is but the fact that that stranger held you at gunpoint merely a week prior is what scared you shitless.
In the limited time that he gave you, you decided to freshen up a bit so you hopped in the shower. Your first shower in a few days after your psychotic state worsened. Humming in bliss, you relished in the feeling of the scalding water flowing over your skin as you took your time washing , shaving, and singing, in an attempt to rid yourself of the horrendous nerves that overtook your senses. After reluctantly stepping out of the steamy oasis, you’d decided on a white lingerie set you had gotten yourself for christmas but never got to wear for anyone because your significant other was always “working” or too tired/busy to take the time of day for you. Pairing the set with a matching white silk robe and not bothering to wear any shoes because you’re in your own house, you slicked your lips in a thick coat of gloss and applied some mascara and eyeliner to your tired eyes just to spruce up a bit. You figured, if you put effort into your appearance, then maybe he’d spare your life after the sex. You stared at yourself in the mirror, tying your robe, smacking your glossed lips together and ogling your appearance before a soft knocking was heard from the living room. “He’s here” you told yourself with a deep shaky breath as you vacated the bathroom and slowly ventured toward the door.
You stood silently before the front door, contemplating whether this was a mistake or if it was too late to turn back. As much as you hated to admit, there was no logical solution to your problem that was in compliance with any standing laws. Heck, what you were doing was probably illegal in everywhere but Las Vegas so you had no other choice than to twist the handle, open the door and stare up at the most alluring man you had ever laid eyes on. You ran your eyes all over his body, studying him, his features, his gorgeous eyes, impeccable nose, plush lips, smooth hair, and strong arms that lead to a presumed strong chest hidden under his plain white tee. He noticed you blatantly checking him out to which he placed a finger on your chin, lifting your face up so your eyes met and making you watch as he rolled his bottom lip into his mouth, sucking on it for a moment. Oh how you wished that was your lip.
“You ready little dove?” he asked, his tone seductive and smooth like chocolate as he walked closer to you, closing the door behind him and backing you up until you stood patiently before the couch staring up at him, a wistful glint in your eyes as you nodded. He reached up, using a finger to push your robe off of your right shoulder and cocking his head quizzically. “All dressed up just for me?” he pondered, his eyes trained on the white lace peeking out from under the robe. You nodded, to which he gripped your chin roughly, furrowing his eyebrows at your response. “Use your words sweetheart” he warned, loosening his grip so you could speak in affirmation.
“Yes…” your voice trailed off, thinking of what to call him, as you still didn’t know his name, so you addressed him as you would any man you didn’t know, “yes, sir. I dressed up just for you” you concluded, your voice barely greater than a whisper as the corners of his lips turned up. He let out an animalistic growl at the name you gave for him, obviously satisfied and moved his hand from your chin to grip the back of your neck promptly.
“It’s Jungkook, but sir will do nicely” he basically growled before latching onto your lips with carnal aggressiveness. You whined heartily into his mouth as his tongue slipped deftly into yours and intertwined with yours, causing your mind to fall into a haze as he coiled his arm around your waist, bringing your body flush against his toned frame. You reached up with shaky hands, fumbling with his shirt, eager to get it off of him and gaze upon the expanse of his abdomen. His lips detached for a moment, giving you the chance to pull his shirt over his head, which he gladly obliged and lifted his hands over his head, swiftly resuming their positions when his shirt formed a pile on the floor beside you. You leaned back in, attempting to capture his lips in another phenomenal kiss but he pulled back, leaving you to chase him and whine when you ultimately lose, to which he laughs mischievously, taking his hands off of your body and toying with the silk tie on the front of your robe.
“How do you want it baby?” he pondered, the new nickname sending shivers down your spine as you glanced at him quizzically, as if asking what he meant. He chuckled softly, tugging at the ribbon and opening your robe as he brought his hands up, carefully sliding it down your arms and bending down so his face was level with your collarbone. He placed a gentle kiss there, leaving fire in the wake of his lips as he spoke, his breath cooling the seared flesh, “would you like me to be gentle?” he asked leaving more hot kisses along the expanse of your shoulder and neck, drawing salacious sounds from your parted lips as he brought his hand up to rest at the base of your neck. “Or…” he paused, sliding his hand up and increasing the intensity of his grip on your throat, restricting the blood flow to your brain as your mind became hazy and your eyes rolled into the back of your head. “Do you want me to be rough?” he continued, lifting his head to watch your face as he loosened his grip. “It’s your choice little dove.”
You were elated, ecstatic and a little disappointed when he loosened his grip on your neck. Your ex was always into sex that lindered toward the vanilla side, as mentioned before, so he would never think to try anything like choking, which always intrigued you just a little bit. You wished you would have experienced other styles of love before you met him but you didn't, and this was your chance to try them out now. Your fingers travelled up, lightly grazing over that hand that was tightly wrapped around your neck. Whining quietly you rolled your bottom lip between your teeth, biting it softly as your other hand came up and wrapped around Jungkook’s forearm.
“I wanna try it rough” you mumbled, eyes closing as you relished in the hazy feeling this restriction gave you which only heightened as he tightened his grip.
“Perfect.” he groaned out almost inaudibly as he pulled your face to his, colliding your lips in the roughest, most passion filled kiss you’d ever experienced. He devoured your mouth with gluttonous amusement, his grip on your airway never wavering for a moment as he tongued you down, his carnal need prevalent and present in the thick air of the room. You reached up, completing a task you’d been wanting to do for days, tangling your hand in the messy black mass that fell upon his head, and relishing in the soft feeling of his waves. Then he detached from your lips and moved away, forcing your hands to fall from his hair and onto his broad shoulders, which, while pleasurable to touch, didn’t even come close to frolicking your fingers through his locks. He moved his hand from your neck to your shoulder, to which you whined with a small pout, missing the new contact as he chuckled at your eagerness. He stared at your lips, before leaning down and capturing your bottom lip between his teeth, biting down on it voraciously before he spoke. “Do you want me to put this slutty little mouth of yours to use little dove?” he asked, pulling back as if waiting for an answer, to which you obliged.
“Yes sir” You answered quite honestly in fact, as you felt all your hesitation and weariness about this task slip away. “Please put my mouth to use.” you pleaded, staring up at him, a wanton expression on your soft features.
“You’re so good for me .” he whispered, his soft breath fanning your face as you nodded in agreement, “such an obedient little dove, hmm?” he asked, to which you nodded once again, a bit more frantically this time as you awaited his cue. He used the hand on your shoulder to abruptly push you down with a small yelp so you were seated on the black leather couch behind you, the colder leather contrasting the burning lust in your entire body as you looked up at him. “Get to work slut.” Your eyes widened at the name. Maybe it was supposed to be an insult or he just liked calling you that but you couldn’t help the gargantuan wave of slick that coated your panties at the moment.
You looked down, a bit above eye level with his crotch as you reached up to palm him through his faded blue jeans. His scent was tantalizing, musky, and you couldn't get enough as you stared up at him through your eyelashes, your lips slightly parted as you gazed in awe. He gave you a warning glance, as if scolding you for teasing him for this long and you unzipped his pants. He held out his hand, as if to stop you before reaching behind his pants and pulling his gun from the back of his jeans. Your eyes widened, gaze now trained on the firearm in his hand, a horrified expression on your face as you ceased all actions. Which he noticed, peering down at you, a horrifying smile etched on his godlike features as he opened his mouth to speak.
“Relax darling, I won’t kill you,” he purred, reaching down and weaving the fingers of his free hand into the roots of your hair, grabbing and pulling back roughly so you have no other choice but to meet his dark eyes. “We’re only just getting started.” he lowered the gun, pressing the muzzle into the underside of your jaw, the cold metal like ice against your scalding skin. However, you felt no need to cry, felt no need to fear for your life even as this gun was pressed to your neck, aimed to kill, because you knew he wouldn’t do it. Through the dark facade and ominous gaze in his eyes there was something else that made you trust his inability to kill you. You realized you were enjoying the thrill, the excitement of putting your life in his hands. So, you did what any crazy bitch would do in this situation, you breathed out deeply, relaxing your shoulders and slouching yourself down to push your neck further onto the tip of the gun with a mischievous smile. Jungkook stared down at you in awe, running his tongue on the inside of his cheek and taking his gun off of your neck before tossing it over to the end of the couch behind you.
Resuming your actions with a shaky breath, you tugged his pants down until they fell to his ankles and placed your hands on the sides of his underwear clad hips. You might’ve been inexperienced in his style of fucking but you sure knew how to give a good blowjob, so you got to work, placing open mouthed kisses to his clothed appendage. You looked up at him once more seeing the lust clouded haze that filled his deep brown eyes. After a bit of teasing, you hooked your fingers in the waistband of his underwear, pulling it down in a seductively slow manner as you allowed his needy cock to spring free, and you stared up at it with a gasp.
It was huge.
You didn’t really know what qualifies as huge because the only dick you’ve ever had was around 6 inches on a good day but this alluring appendage swinging before your face had to be at least 9 inches long and you wondered how the fuck you were going to fit it all in your mouth let alone your pussy, which was already aching for it. Your mouth involuntarily opened wider in anticipation of his delicious dick inside and you grabbed the base, with two hands, drawing a hiss from the man that stood over you as he kicked off his shoes and the rest of the clothing that pooled around his feet. You licked teasingly up the sides of his dick, stopping at the tip to swirl your tongue around it, and catching some salty precum when you did. You glanced up at him and he looked absolutely furious in the best sort of way. Frustrated to the max as you teased him mercilessly, only spending meere fleeting moments at the spots which needed the most attention.
Then he snapped, taking you by surprise and using his hand that was still tangled in your hair to hold you still while he shoved his cock in your mouth. You tried to gasp but it merely came out as a small strangled whimper that was cut off as his length reached that back of your throat. You moved your hands to the sides of his hips once again, bracing yourself as he slowly pulled his member out of your mouth, most likely winding up for another thrust. He propelled his hips forward once again, stuffing not nearly all of his cock into your mouth, as his tip grazed the back of your throat. The feeling of him completely filling your mouth had you livid, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you moaned, the vibrations reverberating onto his appendage which drew a salacious moan from his plush parted pink lips.
“Fuck, your mouth feels like heaven.” he moaned out, then he started to fuck your face, tears pooling in your eyes while his dick basically hit the back of your throat with every harsh stroke of his hips as he gripped on your hair tighter. After one particularly hard thrust, he held his length down your throat as tears rolled down your cheeks and you gagged around him. He took his cock out of your mouth, to which you gasped, swallowing the spit that pooled in your mouth with an aroused groan.
“Tastes so good.” you mumbled, not possibly being able to get enough as he shoved his cock back into your mouth and fucked your throat relentlessly. The tension building in you was too much to bear and your need to cum only heightened as his actions resumed. You arched your back slightly, pushing your clothed clit into the black leather cushions of the couch as you gyrated into it slowly, praying he wouldn’t notice and would be too invested in fucking your throat to realize.
You were wrong. He noticed immediately.
He halted all movements, taking his cock from your throat and grabbing your neck harshly, to which you gasped, whimpering as he pulled you up to stand in front of him, cock slapping the front of your body as you stared at his face in anticipation of his actions. You could imagine what you looked like right now swollen glossy lips, and tear stains running down your face because you didn’t bother to wear your waterproof mascara. You never needed it any other time so you figured why would you need it now. Oh how wrong you were.
“Dirty little dove, trying to get off on the couch because you want me that bad?” he rasped, nearing closer to your face with each word and you nodded frantically, basically begging him to do something, anything. “Words” he barked, drawing a cry from your lips as you thought of what to say.
“I want your cock, please sir.” you begged, before he groaned hungrily and captured your lips in a ravenous kiss, taking you by surprise. No one had ever kissed you after they’d fucked your throat before so why would he do it. You didn’t dwell on that thought for too long before melting into his touch and wrapping your arms around his neck. Jungkook took his free hand, trailing it around your body to unclasp the back of your bra, your eyes going wide at the skillful ease of his fingers. He snatched the white lace clothing off of your frame, tossing it to the other side of the room and reaching back up to cup one of your soft breasts in his hand, flicking the nipple with his index finger and making you sigh satisfactorily into his mouth. He leaned forward, taking you with him as he lowered both of you back onto the couch, settling himself between your newly opened legs and never breaking the kiss. He unlatched his hand from your neck, trailing it down your body as the other hand continued to knead your breast skillfully. His burning touch slowly ventured further and further down your abdomen until he reached the band of your panties and abruptly tore the thin while lace from your body to your dismay and discarding it on the floor beside him. You whined sadly, as those had been your favorite pair of underwear but barely had any sort of time to grieve as you felt two rough fingers dip into the wetness of your slit, trailing them up and stopping right over the spot you needed him to be at, pulling a moan from your still swollen lips.
He began kissing a trail down your body, stopping for a mere moment to suck on the pert bud of your free breast before resuming his path of destruction. He moved his hands to settle on the inner sides of your thighs, spreading them apart and sighing as he got a glimpse of the treasure between them. Your eyes widened upon realizing his destination as you scooched away, holding a handful of his tousled black hair in an attempt to grab his attention.
“I-…” you paused, chewing on your bottom lip and thinking of how to word your statement. “i’ve never asked anyone to do that for me before, so y- you don’t have to do it.” you stuttered wearily as the nerves set in. No one’s face had ever been remotely close to your womanhood and the thought of it sent a chill down your spine as you released his hair from your grasp. You wondered what it would even be like. He glanced up at you, eyes dilated as he chuckled, a dark chuckle that made you shiver as he tightened his grip on your thighs, yanking you closer to his face and taking a deep drag of your scent once you were close enough.
“Oh baby I want to” he basically moaned out, licking his lips and glancing down at your glistening slit, the corners of his lips turning up in a hungry smile. You raised an eyebrow, asking yourself ‘why the fuck would he want to do that?’, and ‘isn’t this for my pleasure?’, but all your concerns were answered once he spoke again. “I can’t wait to make you writhe on my tongue little dove” he muttered, causing your cheeks to burn with the intensity of a thousand suns as he talked into your soaking entrance. “... make you beg and cry without even using my cock.” he continued, releasing your left thigh from his grip as he placed a hand on your pubic mound, lowering his thumb and slowly beginning to circle your clit eliciting a loud wail from you. “You think, if I had the power to turn you into a messy little whore all for me just by using my mouth, I wouldn’t use it at any chance I could?” He asked and you whined, nodding as your hips stuttered up in desperate need of more friction. “It’s all about power baby, and I have it all here” he groaned, watching you clench pathetic around nothing.
Then, he finally gave you what you wanted. His hand resumed its grip on your thigh, forcing it away from the other as his thumb was swiftly replaced by his warm tongue licking up and down your wet sex. You moaned, placing your shaky hands on the mounds of your chest, toying with your nipples just to add to the pleasurable sensations he was creating with his tongue. This feeling was unlike any ecstasy you had ever felt and you never wanted it to stop. His tongue slipped deftly into your soaked entrance twisting and turning skillfully as you keened loudly. His warm wet appendage swirling around your wet cavern was the best feeling in the entire world and you knew if he continued ravaging you at this pace, you’d cum in no time. But, you needed this release. You needed to let go of all this pent up sexual frustration you didn’t even know you harbored. You needed to experience your first orgasm in months, if not years, that wasn’t self inflicted and you hoped and prayed with all your heart that it would come soon.
He switched his focus,, moving his tongue up to play with your aching clit and slipping two fingers into your formerly empty hole with a deep groan that reverberated through your core like a powerful vibrator which only intensified your moans and cries of pleasure. You looked down on yourself to see the delicious sight of him devouring your cunt ruthlessly, the sight alone almost tipping you over the edge as you brought your hands up, covering your eyes while you neared completion.
“Jungkook you’re gonna make me cum.” you called out, an exasperated cry leaving your lips when your impending orgasm was painfully ripped away from you as all his motion stopped. You uncovered your eyes, about to stare down when your body jolted, a harsh sting being felt directly on your clit, sending a wave of warmth barreling through your entire body. Then you understood, he slapped you, and you peered down at him, your eyes glassy due to the orgasm that was ripped from your grasp.
“Who? said you can cum.” he deadpanned menacingly, staring up at you through hooded eyes as you leaned your head back tiredly, realizing the error in your words and prepared to beg, just like he said you would.
“Sir” you cried, holding your arms limply over your head as you continued to plead. “Sir please, please make me cum.” you begged mercilessly, a tear of relief sliding down your cheek as he resumed his assault on your core, attacking at a steady pace and retrieving the all too familiar knot that formed in the pit of your stomach. You reached up, grabbing the edge of the couch with an iron grip, your knuckles turning white as your hips began circling on his face, your clit rubbing against his tongue with every movement and venturing you closer to your sweet release.”Please don’t stop sir, oh my god” you whined loudly, fucking his face relentlessly as you chased your high, nearing it more and more with each thrust of your hips until he finally pushed you off the brink of ecstasy, a scream leaving your lips as Jungkook continued his unrelenting attack on your pained pussy.
You rode out your high, writhing and panting before him, his pace never faltering, his fingers never slowing, his tongue never relenting and it soon became too much. The euphoric delirium quickly turned into madness as you barreled down the path into overstimulation. You wailed pathetically, thrashing under his hold as the pleasurable pain consumed your body and you could barely form a coherent sentence but you persevered, scraping all the coherent thoughts you could muster and turning them into tangible words that sat on the tip of your tongue, ready to be spoken. “Sir please, it's too much!” you cried to which Jungkook finally let up, slowing his pace to a halt and sitting back.
“Oh my god that was so fucking hot” he growled before sucking on his glossy fingers and cleaning around his mouth with his skilled tongue as he gazed amusedly upon your exhausted body. But he was nowhere near done with you. This fact made apparent when he stood and wrapped an arm around your hip, lifting your limp body and turning you over with ease, positioning you so your face was pressed into the now warm couch cushion and your ass was raised high into the air before him. His eyes rolled at the view of your swollen cunt bent over for him and he gave it a light smack, eliciting a pained, but tired yelp from you as he chuckled muttering “you’re going to drive me crazy little dove.” under his breath.
He crouched down, coming face to lips with your abused cunt as he wrapped his arms around your bent bottom, lacing his fingers together as they rested at the arch of your back and dragging his nose up the tortured path of your slit, drawing whines and cries of overstimulation from your wiggling frame as you tried to get away from the punishing menace that was his face. “No, please. I can't take anymore, it's too much.” You whimpered, your voice muffled as you leaned your face into the couch tiredly to which he obliged, reluctantly, as he stood, grabbing his neglected dick in hand and pointing it toward your pink entrance.
“I can’t wait to stretch your pretty little pussy ____.” he purred and you moaned at the sound of your name slipping off of his tongue like the creamiest butter. He dragged his tip along your swollen clit, abusing it again for what seemed like the millionth time that day as he covered his girth in your slick, a guttural groan emitting from the back of his throat. Then, abruptly, he sunk into your slippery cavern, barely all the way in but you’d never felt so full in your entire life as he pushed forward slowly, filling you up and providing you with the most delicious stretch you’d ever felt. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you whined, a desperate whine that you could barely register was your own voice as he pushed his length completely inside of you, his head falling back and your name, rolling off of his tongue once again.
After barely giving you time to adjust to his alarming size, he reeled his hips back before slamming into you again, and again, and again, over and over again until he was fucking you at an unrelenting speed you barely knew was possible to achieve. Suffering from the overwhelming pleasure he forced you to endure, you shut your eyes tight, crying out in strangled indulgence as you grasped onto the fluffy throw blanket strewn lazily over the couch in front of you. You relished in the sting of his girth, staring ahead blankly with glassy eyes as he rammed into you with a punishing speed and black mascara filled tears streamed down your cheeks.
You knew you were about to cum soon, again, only due to the all too familiar feeling accumulating in the pit of your belly. Jungkook reached down, placing a hand on your shoulder blade and pressing your chest further into the couch while he drilled into you, moaning and cursing at the feeling of you flexing deliciously around his cock. He felt you were close, so he moved his hand, snaking it around your waist and trailing his other hand to assume its position around your neck, hoisting you up so your back was arched against his abdomen and you had no choice but to stare up at him as he talked down on you, never slowing the snapping of his hips for a wavering moment.
“You’ve never been fucked this good have you?” he teased through clenched teeth as he leaned down, sucking and marking all over the expanse of your neck with grunts and growls of pleasure. You were way too fucked out to even think about the words to form a coherent sentence, barely being able to form whimpered versions of ‘mhm’ after he questioned you but he was having none of that. He unraveled his hand from your waist, tightening his grip on your throat and landing a hard slap to your left asscheek, drawing a shrill shriek from the depths of your throat as he warned in your ear. “Words little dove” he slapped you again, “how many times do I have to fucking warn you.” he concluded, landing another harsh smack to your abused flesh as you whimpered.
“You’re the best I’ve ever had, I’m such a slut for you sir.” You sobbed out, “please let me cum, please fuck” you whined, drawing out your words and you reached back, tangling both hands in his unruly mop of hair as he split you open, moaning directly in your ear which in itself, was a thing that could make you cum on the spot.
“Cum then.” He said obviously, as if it was the most simple response, only it was this simple command that shoved you off the precipice of ecstasy for a second time. The feeling that bloomed deep in your stomach soon blossomed into a full blown orgasm that racked through your body quickly, leaving nothing but white hot pleasure in its wake as your legs trembled viciously, with one last loud cry of Jungkook’s name. But, he still did not falter, his pace quickening as he neared his own climax, the speed both too much and not nearly enough at the same time. You reached back, attempting to push him and escape the all consuming pleasure torturing your body like a blazing fire but your hands were caught quickly by Jungkook’s hands which crossed them tightly and held them behind your back, resuming his attack.
You shook your head, letting it hang as your tears fell freely onto the couch before you, his moans and groans of ecstasy increasing in volume and frequency as he neared his own climax, his hips faltering in their pace for the first time in a while as he worked to his own release. In what seemed like an instant, he released the most beautiful, salacious, strangled moan you had ever heard, pulling himself out of your soaked cunt, and painting the surface of your ass with his white hot ropes of cum. He finally let you go after a moment, watching as you fell limply to the couch, laying face down, panting exhaustively, your arms still crossed limply behind your back as he smirked down at your fucked out frame. He left you alone for just a bit, coming back but a few moments later before you felt the sore skin of your asscheeks being wiped off with what felt like a warm hand towel. You were relieved he had the respect to clean his mess, it made you respect him just a little bit more as a person but you were way too tired to dwell on the subject any longer.
“You did so good for me little dove” he cooed, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it as he placed a sweet chaste kiss on your lower back, caressing his hand up the side of your body. A simple touch that lacked any sort of sexual aspects, it felt comforting and you sighed, leaning further into the soft couch as you heard him begin to put his clothing on. You felt a pang of distress, seeing as you were more of a fuck and cuddle kind of girl, but you really hadn’t expected him to stay so why’d you feel the need to ask him to. Pushing the feeling deep inside your gut, you sighed deeply as he walked in front of you to bend forward and grab his gun that laid discarded on the opposite side of your couch, also grabbing the throw blanket beside it and tossing it over your naked frame before thinking about something. “So,” he started, tucking his gun in the back of his pants and humming, “I’m thinking that was worth about, hmm 50k” he started. You vaguely understood what he was saying and knew you’d flip out once you were conscious enough to truly comprehend his words. “I’ll keep in touch.” He said, pulling his shirt down and smiling deviously at you as you uttered a hoarse ‘huh?’ To which he answered simply, “if I wanna come collect some more money” and he spun on his heels, opening your door and sauntering out of the threshold.
When he got into the hallway, Jungkook burst into a wide smile, satisfied with the encounter he made today. He entered this agreement fully prepared to either fuck you once and take the money you’d earned back or just fuck you and kill you, but once he’d had a taste, he was insatiable. You were flawless, your compliance was impeccable. The way you obeyed him, begged for him, the way you tasted, the way you felt, the way you looked. There was no way he could ever get enough and is probably the reason he kept overstimulating you like a frat boy with a bruised ego. There was no way he was gonna just let go of an absolute gem like you, so he made his excuse, a plan. Everytime you fuck him, you pay back a portion of the money. He was so tempted to tell you this session was only worth $100 just as an excuse to come back over and over and over until he had his fill, but he kept his composure, giving you hope that you’d ever be free of his grasp. Jungkook for once was extremely ecstatic, elated, excited to ruin you even more than he already had and he was dead set on making you want him just as much as he craved you no matter what it took. Though he was pretty sure you already did.
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