the diary of the soul of an angelִֶָ ་༘࿐

You loved Mark, truly, you did. But sometimes this man could test your patience. “So, you’re telling me that we have to host an alternate version of yourself indefinitely because?” You currently sat before your boyfriend and his crazy alternative.

Mark cowered under your heavy gaze, “Angstrom sorta trapped him here. It’s just for a little while! Only until the GDA finds him a way home.”

 Your gaze flickered towards his variant. He reeked of dirt and grim, and the stench of death clung to him. Streaks of crimson, old and new, splattered across his skin, only adding to his dishevelled appearance. 

What was more unsettling was the haunted look in his eyes, unhinged with a sort of wildness that made her stomach churn. 

Especially once it locked on your plump figure, his face remained stoic, but his eyes told a different story entirely. It was predatory, sharp and crazed like a savage beast finally cornering its prey. 

It might have been the stupidest decision you've made in your life. This overtly brash counterpart made sure his presence was known, annoyingly so. 

Crude remarks that left you feeling exposed to his predatory gaze.

 “All that on you, I could practically eat you alive.”  “Jesus, you could probably crush me with one thigh, huh, Babe?”  “No need to feel embarrassed, sweet cheeks, it's just a fact.”

His heady leer only amplified the growing twist in your stomach. Carnal touch that was simple enough to be considered friendly but enough that would have heat rising to your cheeks. He was taunting you. Blatantly. 

What wasn't apparent was his borderline obsession with you. You were everything he wasn't: caring, soft, sweet. All the fluffy words ripped straight out of the dictionary.

In the reclose of the guest room, ear pressed against the wall and his length impossibly hard listening to his variant fuck your brains out.

He groaned. Your moans were sweet symphonies. His cock twitched in his hold, imagining your soft hand holding him instead of his calloused ones. 

You'd tease his tip, running the pad of your thumb over the slit. Would you whisper sweet pleas or reprimand him? 

Would you use your mouth, his cock twitched at the thought. Your pretty lips parted around his cock, spit dribbling down the corners of your mouth. Your eyes glossed over as you sputtered around his girth.

Mohawk hissed, fastening his languid strokes. You'd be sprawled out before him, thick thighs twitching as you melted under his touch. Your cute stomach, littered with kisses, was given the proper loving it deserved. 

Would you be embarrassed? Shy away from his hungry gaze as he rolled his hips against your core. Would you beg him to speed or slow down? Or would you be too cock drunk to care? 

Flushed silly as you were split open on his cock, too fucked out to conjure a single thought—babling incoherent pleas. 

You’d only think of him—his touch, his wet kisses and how well he fucked you. The way you cried out his name, like a prayer that only he could hear. 

He felt his balls tightening as he teetered on the edge. He knows You'd look beautiful cumming around his length—utterly lost in the current of pleasure that crashed on you. Warm walls surround him as you writhe beneath him. 

A deep low moan rumbled from his throat, a seemingly endless ropes of thick cum coat his hand and abdomen.

His chest heaved as his body grew limp. Your faint mewls dwindled as you reached your peak, your Mark fast approaching his orgasm. 

God, he was hooked and didn't feel a lick of shame at all. 

The next morning was a bleak as usual. “If you wanted a taste, you could have just asked.” 

Mohawk quirked a brow, a taunting grin. “Yeah? And why would I do that?” his voice wavered a tad.

Mark only stared, “You weren't particularly quiet you know.” returning his attention back to his comic. 

 It was undeniable. He wanted you. Bad. 

You currently sat in between the two on your shared bed. Tucked into yourself, you challenged their leering gazes. You gulped down your frayed nerves, glancing back at your Mark. “So?” 

“He promised to follow your wishes. So no pressure.” you hummed, a cool heat pooled in your stomach. 

You were nervous, how couldn't you be? One Mark was already more than enough to sedate your needs, hell, sometimes too much.

 Adding another, one with the same stamina, plus potential sadism, made you quake with a revered thrill. 

Mohawk only chuckled dryly, grinning from ear to ear, “I'm completely at your service, princess.” 

“Of course, only if you're comfortable with it!” Mark interjected. The last thing he wanted was for you to be uncomfortable; your comfort was his top priority. 

You felt heat crawl up your neck under their heated gaze. You felt the familiar throb between your legs, you fiddled with the end of your shirt. “Yes…Yes, I'm okay with that.” 

That's all it took to release the dam of built-up tension. Mohawk's calloused hands were on your body within seconds. You gasped as he leaned his head into the crook of your neck, inhaling your sweet scent.

“Fuck, you smell better than I'd imagine,” he muttered, licking a long strip along your neck. You shuddered, hands instinctively flying to his broad shoulders. 

While his hands roamed down your body, putting every curve to memory, palming and squeezing your doughy flesh. It was predatory compared to the way your Mark touched you, each touch sent a surge of heat through your body.

 It felt wrong. The way he handled you with practiced care made your stomach twist. He was a maniac and a cannibal. You just prayed he didn't bite a chunk of you. 

Your eyes drifted to your sweet boyfriend, a flush painting his cheeks, eyes half lidded and shallow breaths. They lingered before roving over his body. He sat, legs spread wide enough for you to see a bulge straining against his slacks. He palmed himself, attention solely on you as you slowly unravelled like yarn under his variant. 

“Play with her tits, she loves it. Don't you, baby?” he cooed. He was enjoying this more than you had imagined. 

Mohawks hands found refuge on your tits, twisting and turning your pebbled nipples under your shirt. He tore through the fabric with ease, freeing them. 

You cried out. “Hey, you're right! Look at how big these things are. Jesus, you're soft. Never want to let go,” his hot breath fanned your face before claiming your lips in a searing kiss. You squirmed as his sharp teeth bit your bottom lip. 

You moaned into the heated kiss, the sloppiness of it paired with the stimulation from your sensitive nipples made your head dizzy. 

One his hands traced your stomach and dipped down into your cotton shorts finding your fat cunt making you mewl. “No panties? Filthy girl. ” His hand quickly found your clit, running taut circles around the sensitive bundle of nerves. 

Your hips twitch, breathless moans falling from your lips. Mohawk only smirked, fastening his pace, bemused as you threw your head back in pleasure. 

“Aw, is my princess enjoying herself?” You nod, whimpering as the familiar band of relief settles in your tummy, threatening release. 

Mark pulled his cock from its confines, hissing against the cool air. The tip is an angry red with pre-dribbling freely down. Fisting his cock using your moans as an anchor; the way your face twisted with pleasure, how beautiful you looked crumbling apart.

Mohawk wasn't any better, cock straining against his pants. Enveloped in your scent, your softness, he never wanted to leave. The way you looked, eyes screwed shut, lips parted enough from whimpers made his dick twitch. 

Two fingers probed your entrance before thrusting in full force. You yelped, pushing your hips away from his hands. Mohawk only seemed to chuckle more, gripping the fat of your hip. “Is it too much for you, princess? C’mon, use your words,” he teased. 

You only cried out in response, shaking your head, feeling yourself teeter closer to the edge of release. “Please, wanna cum!”

“Could you say that louder f’me? Couldn't hear ya over how sloppy this pussy sounds,” he teased. For emphasis, slowing down his pace, the sickening squelch of your fluids around his fingers became apparent. “I mean, can’t you just hear how loud she is? Practically drooling.” 

You whined, rolling your hips meeting his thrusts, “Yes! Fuck, I wanna cum!” you babbled. His fingers grazed your G-spot deliciously, making you see stars. 

He hummed, “Yeah? Cum on my fingers.”  That's all the confirmation you needed to let go. Your vision became splotchy as the band of pleasure fully released, your fluids squirting out. 

Your essence dripped down his hands and your thighs, as your legs twitched from the staggering orgasm. 

Sheer sweat coated your skin, soft pants escaping your lips, and your vision was hazy. Mohawk whistled, “Shit, you squirted all over me baby. So hot.” Bringing his drenched fingers to his lips, licking up your essence 

You huff, heat crawled up your cheeks. Shame was nonexistent to this man. The small moment of respite quickly faded as large hands gripped your hips. 

The world tilted as you forced onto your stomach, back arched and ass tooted up. “ Your face is cute, but seeing your ass is even better. I mean, look at this thing.” A harsh stinging slap against your ass cheek making yelp.

 His hands fondled the globes of your ass, “It's so soft! No wonder you always have her in this position, man, this is awesome!” 

Mark only smiled sheepishly, “I didn't know you'd watch us too.” Taking his position in front of you, cock twitching with pre. 

Your eyes widened. There was no way you were built to take them both on. Not at the same time. You felt the head of Mohawks cock probe at your quivering hole. 

“Wait-” you were hushed at the sensation of his thick cock splitting you apart. A sinful moan escaped you, his length already kissing your cervix. Mark slotted his tip against your lips, urging you to open your mouth. 

Mohawk grunted, hips stuttering as your walls clamped down. “Shit you're tight, gripping me like a vice, baby.” You moaned around Mark's cock, causing him to groan. 

He drew his hips back, snapping at a brutal pace, angry red tip bruising your cervix. His fingers dug into the flesh of your hips for more leverage, “Don't know why I haven't fucked a fatty yet, this is fucking amazing!” 

“It's great, isn't it?” 

“Fucking fantastic, gotta be the best pussy I've had yet.” 

You whimpered helplessly around Mark's cock, fat tears rolled down your cheeks. “C'mon, baby, you can handle this.” Wiping a stray tear from your face. 

His normal sweet praise made your stomach twist. Contrary to the fast snap of his hips, his tip kisses the back of your throat. Relentless in his pursuit of relief. “You're taking both of us so well…m'fuck keep doing that.” 

You felt the same building of pressure, your walls fluttered around Mohawk's length. “Bout to cum already? I thought you had more stamina than that princess.” his hips slowed their assault, into an agonizingly slow tempo.

You whined at the loss, hands fumbling to your puffy clit. Callous hands restrained your wrists, tugging them behind your back. The new angle sank his length impossibly deeper. “Impatient little thing, aren't you?” 

The lewd sounds of skin slapping echoed across the room. Heavy breathing fanned your molten skin, your mind was long gone. Dribbles of what remained could only focus on Mark's lidded gaze, filled to the brim with overflowing adoration.

 Babbling, I love you's through gritted teeth. His pace growing ever more sloppy, stuttering as the buzz of his climax drew near. Mark hissed, cocking twitching before shooting thick loads of cum into your abused throat. 

“Hah, just like that. I know you could take it. So perfect,” the pad of his thumb swiped the excess mix of cum and spit dripping down your chin. Swallowing the rest.

“You came already? Loser, couldn’t even wait for her to cum.” Mohawk grunted.

Mark tapped your swollen, parted lips,  “Can’t blame me, her mouth’s just amazing.” Mohawk growled in response, inhaling a shaky breath as your pussy clamped down.

 His mind fogged, only the sweet feeling of your warm walls spasming around him, keeping him grounded. His movements, still erratic, were losing their refined edge.  

Your voice grew hoarse, eyes screwed shut as your body threatened to fall forward. “Gonna breed this fat pussy. Shit, love to see you dripping with my cum,” he husked, one hand releasing your wrist, slithering between to where your bodies connected–rolling your clit just enough to have your vision turn blotchy. 

“Let go for me, princess, you can do it, wanna feel you cum around my cock,” he leaned over, lips ghosting your skin. Sloppy kissing your shoulder, nipping at your neck. The euphoric crash of your orgasm floods your system. Overwhelmed by the shock of pleasure  

“Hah, fuck…yes,” His moan was pornagraphic, his hips stuttered, cock pulsing sputtering thick ropes of cum into you. Mohawk's grip around you loosened, and you heaved forward, landing against Mark's sweaty chest. 

“How are you feeling?” his feather light touch caressed your damp skin, your eyelids grew lidded. “Like my body's turned into jello.” The whispers of slumber drew you closer. 

Mohawk pinched your side making you bolt awake, “Can't you go another round princess? I want to see the hype around that pretty mouth of yours.” 

You swatted his wandering hands away, grumbling curses under your breath, curling into Mark. “I'm spent, handle it yourself.” 

Mark massaged cool circles on your back, “Another round couldn’t hurt.” Your attention flickers back to him, feeling his dick twitch beneath you.