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Jack didn’t think of himself as a brave guy. Yeah, he went into some dank, decrepit, “haunted” places for his YouTube channel, but mostly nothing happened. And when it did, Jack sure as hell did not stick around long - just long enough to get a good shot of whatever the fuck made that noise, and then he’s gone. Ghoul or squatter, Jack was sure as shit not gonna stay to find out. So, in general, Jack doesn’t think he’s brave, he’s just not afraid of old buildings.
But, if there were ever a building to be afraid of, this would be it, right here.
The mansion was three stories, cutting impressively into the dark night sky. Some of the windows had been broken, jagged edges of glass glinting like teeth in Jack’s flashlight beam. Others were boarded, but the old panes shone through, warped with time. Vines were creeping along and under the siding, pulling it away from the body of the house like shorn skin. Even from the ground, Jack could see sections of roof had collapsed, leaving gaping wounds, and the remnants of the porch seemed held up only by the ivy coiled around the old bones of decaying pillars.The sprawling garden had started encroaching on the ornate walkway, creeping shrubs cracking and dismembering what were once finely carved stones. Only the front door stood solid, heavy wood and rusted iron still intact, the remnants of the old cherry finish starting to resemble bloodstain. The mansion reminded Jack of a long-slumbering beast, looming over him, daring him to disturb it.
And this was the site of his next episode of HauntedSepticeye. Fuckin’ grand.
Jack just had to choose the one location that had the least amount of information online. All he had been able to find were a few grainy photos, which, honestly, did the place no justice at all, and there definitely was no mention of the fact that he was likely to die from the building just collapsing. But, there were some pretty interesting rumors about a supposed demon haunting this place. It was in the middle of bum-fuck nowhere, a ghost town long forgotten, so already not many people visited. But the ones that did… well, that’s what made the place so damn interesting to Jack.
Ghost hunters, some very well-known for their skepticism, would swear up and down that they had made contact with a demon. Could all give the exact same description of the demon, without their stories ever changing, and all of them, every single one, claimed this demon erased their memory cards. None of them ever had any video or photos from their hunts. Hours of investigation, just gone. Not even something innocuous, like a shot of the doorway, they just had no content at all from their entire time at the manor.
So, here he was. Hunting the demon.
Jack pulled his gaze away from the foreboding building and readied his camera. Better get on with it, then, so he can get the hell out of here.
“Top o’ the evenin’ to you, laddies! My name is Jacksepticeye, and welcome to another episode of Haunted! As you can see, today I’ll be investigating one of my most popular requests, the Marked Mansion!”
Jack turned the camera towards the mansion, making sure to get a few sweeping shots and good angles for his editor, Robin. Then, he continued inside. When Jack opened the door, it made the loudest and creepiest groan he had ever heard. Great stuff. Definitely did not send a shiver of fear down his spine - it was just cold tonight. Jack explored the bottom floor for a bit, getting some really good shots of the beautiful, if decaying, architecture, and shared what little he could find on the story of the mansion and the demon that supposedly haunts it.
There were so many rumors surrounding this place. Some rumors say the mansion once belonged to an oil baron who caught his wife in bed with one of his workers, and slit their throats. Some say it belonged to a wealthy singer and pianist who had sold his soul to the Devil for success and fame. And some rumors say it once housed a murder cult in the 1800s, and their satanic rituals opened a portal to hell.
“Not all theories are winners, guys, but it is my job to share them all with you. You decide what to believe. Probably, we’ll never know the truth.”
Jack doesn’t find much on the first floor, just a surprising number of what were once lavish mirrors, all shattered. Every one. Which… Jack supposes probably isn’t that odd, given the state of the house, but still. Jack feels like he’s amassing bad luck just from being here.
Jack eventually made his way back to the foyer staircase, and now that he was actually examining it he could see the absolutely lovely, hand carved railing had barely a scratch. And the staircase itself was… mostly intact, surprisingly. Jack doesn’t have a death wish, he’ll back off if a building is condemned or unsafe, but… besides some missing pieces, a few cracks, there was none of the major damage he’d seen in the rest of the house. So, he cautiously made his way upstairs.
And… again, he doesn’t find much. The architecture is really quite fantastic, and there are more old, broken mirrors, but there wasn’t anything else particularly odd about the place. A creak or groan here and there, just a weary house settling on worn foundations.
That was, until Jack started investigating the master bedroom.
Jack had been videoing a creepy, broken crib in the corner of the room, when he heard footsteps behind him. Clear as day, dress shoes on hardwood, walking towards him. Jack immediately spun around, ready to fight off whatever well-dressed ax murderer was living in a place like this, but… there was nothing. Jack heard the footsteps coming closer, panic singing up his spine with each step, but there was no one there. And so he stood, frozen, not sure if he should hide or flee.
Then Jack heard a chuckle, next to him, couldn’t be more than a foot away, and a deep, baritone voice rumbled in his ear, “My, what a lovely lost, little lark.”
Jack ran.
And then he stopped.
Jack was frozen again, but not from fear. Some… force was holding him still, standing in place, unable to take another step. And the rumbling chuckle started again.
“No, no, you’ve only just arrived.” The same disembodied low timbre said, “Stay, pet.”
Jack shut his eyes tight as a shudder of fear shot through him, and when he opened them… the room had changed. Oil lamps now hung lit along the walls, casting the room in a soft golden glow, and said walls weren’t in tatters, they were - they were entirely whole, like new. Finely pressed maroon wallpaper and freshly finished wood. The entire room was put to rights - no holes in the floor, furniture proper and shining with varnish. The duvet on the large bed returned to a silky, rich amber, and the canopy was clear of the once dense cobwebs. Jack scrubbed at his eyes, because this had to be a fucking dream, he must have fallen through the floor at some point and this was just his poor, unconscious brain struggling with a concussion.
And then, he saw a man standing several feet away, near the window.
The man was dressed in a handsomely tailored black suit, black everything, actually, fabric shifting elegantly over his muscular frame, radiating subdued strength. His skin was deathly pale, contrasting the dark, swept hair framing his face and, Jesus, jet black eyes. This was the demon.
The demon watched him, head tilted slightly, and the corner of his mouth twitched in amusement when he saw the realization in Jack’s eyes.
“Ah, there you go. Clever boy.” The demon mocked, blinking his eyes to a human, deep, deep brown. Jack continued just gaping at him, because his brain was too alight with panic, fight, flee, what the fuck, to form a coherent response. “It’s been some time since I’ve enjoyed the sight of something quite so pretty.”
Jack’s heart stuttered in his chest, fear thrumming through him. “Please let me go.” He breathed.
The demon huffed a breath and began stalking towards Jack slowly, “You came into my home. In search of me. You can’t leave before we’ve become acquainted, Jack.”
The man was close to Jack now, eyes roaming over him, appreciative, calculating. He hummed and Jack watched as he began circling slowly, something in the primal part of Jack’s brain screaming at him not to look away from a predator.
“W-what do you want from me?” Jack asked shakily.
The demon smirked, “Such a dangerous question, little lark. What, indeed.”
Jack’s fear was heightening with every second under the demon’s silent scrutiny. The demon came to a stop in front of Jack, close enough that Jack had to tilt his head up a bit to meet that cold, dark gaze.
They stood like that for several moments, before Jack’s nerves couldn’t take it anymore, couldn’t handle just standing there with a demon eyeing him like Jack’s gonna be dessert, and he blurted out, “You - you’re - Christ, are you gonna possess me? O-or kill me, devour me? Take my soul?”
And Jack does not miss the way the demon flinches at “Christ,” eyes flickering black and a grimace on his face, dark mist pulsing around him for a fraction of a second. Jack makes a mental note, filing it away under weaknesses he could use to escape. God, he really wishes he hadn’t been so skeptical of this hunt, that he had brought holy water or a crucifix, something.
The demon recovers quickly, though, and gives another deep chuckle, “No, Jack, I did not have any of those things planned for this evening, unfortunately.” And then his expression turns predatory as he moves closer to Jack, steps into his personal space, and rumbles low, “Though, I would be happy to devour you if you ask me very, very sweetly.”
And, wow, is Jack fucked up because he feels a twinge of something even though he’s absolutely awash with fear. But that’s normal, right? The guy is flirting in that stupid deep voice, and he’s so close with those dark eyes, that gorgeous face, and - holy shit no, Jack is definitely not attracted to a demon. Jack forcefully pushed that thought away.
Then Jack’s panic riddled mind slowly worked through what the demon had just said. “Wait… wait a minute, how do you know my name?”
The demon hummed, “Lucky guess.”
Jack gave a small, awkward laugh, because that’s probably polite when a demon makes a joke, right? Jesus. What the fuck was happening.
“I can see many things, Jack. Your name, your hometown, your fear.” And then the demon leans down, following when Jack tries to lean away, whispering low, low into Jack’s ear, “The things you do to yourself late at night, the pretty sounds you make, when you think there’s no one around to hear.”
Jack sucks in a breath at that. And he knows, he knows he should feel violated, upset, but that’s… not the feeling settling low in his stomach.
“S-stop it. Get out of my head.” Jack manages. The demon huffs a warm breath over Jack’s ear, and Jack refuses to acknowledge his body’s response to that.
“Sweet thing, still clinging to propriety. I’ll rid you of that, yet.” The demon says, running his lips over the shell of Jack’s ear.
Jack spends a few moments fighting the growing heat in his veins, the fear down his spine, and then… the sensation stops. The demon pulled away, walking to the dresser, and set down Jack’s camera.
“W-what - how did - give that back!” Jack sputters, angry. “That’s my livelihood, I need it!”
“Relax, it’s undamaged. It will be returned to you when you leave.” The demon said, turning towards Jack. “Unfortunately, I cannot allow you to spread photos of my home. Or me. I enjoy my privacy, Jack, and I will not allow my home to become a side-show attraction.”
And that… was fair. Jack could genuinely sympathize with that. And christ, would never have imagined he’d sympathize with a fuckin’ demon. Then again, he’d never imagined anything that had happened tonight, so, really, he should stop being so surprised at these revelations.
“Why did you choose my home, Jack, of all the places to explore?” The demon asked, tilting his head in curiosity.
Jack huffed. “What, can’t you read that in my mind, too?”
“No.” The demon said simply. “I see many things, but not everything.”
Jack blinked. “Oh. Well, how does that work? Can I, like, block you out?”
“No.” The demon said unhelpfully, smiling. Jack waited for a few moments for the guy to elaborate, but he clearly was not going to.
Jack sighed, “Fine. Well, if you want to know it was because of whatever mojo you do to memory cards.” Jack said, waving his fingers at his camera. “That and… I wanted to find out the real story behind this place. Like, are you the pianist? The lawyer? Don’t tell me you were one of the guys from the murder cult!”
“Ah, I see you’ve heard my stories.” The demon said in an approving tone.
“Your stories?” Jack asked.
“Yes, I tell each person to wander into my home a different tale of woe. They ask for my story, and I provide.” The demon said, amusement playing across his features. “All false, of course.”
“So… what’s the real story?”
The demon hummed again, and took several minutes in thought, considering. Jack had just started to think he wouldn’t answer at all when the demon began talking.
“The year was 1867, and I owned a quite successful contracting company for construction of the transcontinental railroad. I was a wealthy, promising young man. The world was open to me. And, like many powerful young men, I squandered my potential in decadence, drink, and sex, searching for fulfillment in passing trifles. Until I found a constant. An anchor. A love.” Dark approached Jack slowly, expression heavy. “I did not know it, but he would be my undoing. Or, more accurately, his father would be.
“One night, while we slept, I was pulled from our bed by the sheriff’s possey, and falsely accused of the murder of the town mayor. Framed, convicted, condemned, all for the crime of loving. In just three days time, I was standing on the gallows.” The demon was just in front of Jack now, looking down at Jack, his face twisting with a sinister smile. “With my final words, I called upon the Devil Himself and offered Him my immortal soul, cursing the people of this town, and all of their ill-begotten descendants, to an eternity of misfortune and misery.”
Jack sat enraptured as the demon spoke, feeling growing sympathy for the man. That… that was horrible, so sad. What a tragic story. And then… then something clicked in Jack’s mind, and he was laughing. The demon just raised an eyebrow at him.
“I’m sorry.” Jack said, stifling his laughter. “I’m sorry, it’s a good story, really, and very convincingly delivered, good on you. But, well, none of that’s true, is it? You’re makin’ that up.”
The demon smirked. “Perhaps.”
And Jack… god help him, but he was actually starting to like this demon. “Ok, well if you’re not going to tell me the truth, can I at least have a name? Something to call you other than ‘demon’?”
“You may call me Dark.”
And Jack… had to suppress another laugh. “Dark the demon? Seriously?”
Dark gave an amused smirk. The flames of the lamps flickered and dimmed to a barely lit glow, and then Dark was leaning into Jack’s space again, encroaching until their faces were bare inches apart, holding Jack’s gaze with black, black eyes.
“I find it suitable enough, pet.” Dark rumbles in that low, low timbre, and Jack feels a shiver down his spine that’s not entirely fear. Dark studies him for a moment, eyes roaming over Jack’s face, tracing a finger slowly over his temple, cheek, jaw, and then Dark grips Jack’s chin gently between his thumb and forefinger. “But, if it’s not to your liking, I also let such pretty little things as you call me ‘sir’.”
The implication is clear, and Jack’s stomach does a little flip, and yeah, ok, wow, that’s definitely not fear. Jack’s trying to grasp the situation, the fact that a demon is coming onto him, and he’s not running away screaming. Jack’s lips move to form a response, anything, but his mind is blank, his breath caught in his lungs, so he just stares mutely into Dark’s black eyes.
After a few moments, Jack manages, “N-no, ‘Dark’s fine.”
“Hm, propriety.” Dark scoffs.
Then Dark’s closing the space between them, pressing his lips to Jack’s, and Jack’s mind stops for several seconds. Jack’s thoughts come back to him in an oscillation between this is a bad idea and yes, please... and then he lands on fuck it and he’s moving his lips against Dark’s, deepening the kiss, bringing his hands up to fist at the front of Dark’s suit jacket.
The kiss doesn’t last long, though, because soon Jack’s mind catches up that he’s kissing a demon, and Jack’s pushing Dark away, pulling back. “No, Dark, stop. I - I can’t.” Jack breathes, fighting down the freshly renewed heat from their kiss.
Dark gazes at him for a few moments, and then says, “You can.”
Jack shakes his head, “N-no, Dark, I don’t want to. You’re, fuck, you’re a demon.” Jack says it, but it sounds weak even to his ears. And he’s still gripping Dark’s jacket, not meeting his eyes, but he can feel Dark’s smirk.
“You can’t lie to me, little lark.” Dark moves to Jack’s ear again, lips lightly brushing his skin. “I can see your desire for me, you reek of it.” Dark says, grazing his teeth over Jack’s earlobe.
Jack’s breath stutters, “Dark -” he starts, and gives a futile, weak push at Dark’s chest.
Dark hums. “Yes, pet?”
Jack feels the tingling warmth spreading through him again, and he knows he should say no, he knows he should. But when he opens his mouth, nothing comes out. Dark’s continuing to kiss and nip at Jack’s ear, taking the lobe into his mouth, and oh Jack should not be so turned on by that.
Dark huffs out a breath. “I want to do more than this to you, pet.”
And then he’s shifting, pressing light kisses against the pulse point on Jack’s neck, and grazing his teeth over the skin there, sending another bolt of arousal through Jack. But Jack also feels a twinge of fear, to have Dark over such a vulnerable spot. Jack’s suddenly reminded of how powerful Dark is, and feels a little like prey, about to be devoured.
“I already told you, pet, only if you ask me sweetly.” Dark rumbles against Jack’s neck, continuing his ministrations. “I want to take you apart slowly, repeatedly, to hear all the pretty sounds you’d make as I broke you. I want to know every piece of you, know all of your lovely expressions as you writhe in pleasure beneath me, bringing you to the brink of bliss over and over, until I finally take pity on you. Finally give in to your pathetic sobs for mercy, and grant you relief. Would you like that, sweetling?”
It takes Jack a minute to even realize Dark’s asked him a question, his mind blank from pure arousal, want filling him, and, fuck, he can feel himself already half hard in his jeans.
“Yes.” Jack huffs.
Dark moves to face Jack again, eyes back to their human brown. He holds Jack’s gaze, moving a hand to trace gently at Jack's nape. “Yes what, pet?”
“Yes, please.” Jack says, because that’s what his mind supplies. And then he realizes his mistake, and adds, “...Sir.”
“Good boy.” Dark says, and oh does that send a shudder through Jack.
And then Dark’s on him again, kissing him soundly. Dark hums his approval into Jack’s mouth and the grip at Jack’s nape turns firm. It’s not forceful, but steadying, and Dark’s other hand falls to rub along Jack’s waist. And god, Dark is so much warmer than Jack expected, though, honestly, he hasn’t ever imagined kissing a demon before.
But if he had, he doubts he would have imagined just how good it would be. It started slow, Dark setting the pace, and when Jack felt Dark’s tongue at the seam of his lips, he opened to let Dark press inside. And then Jack’s letting out little moans he can’t control from the feeling of Dark’s tongue moving, tasting, sending steady pulses of arousal through Jack. Dark kisses him languidly, savoring, as if Jack’s a fine meal he wants to enjoy bit by bit. And Jack’s so hard already, it’s embarrassing, really, from just a bit of making out.
Then Dark’s suddenly turning him around, pulling Jack’s back flush against him. Dark’s gripping his hips firmly, and oh Jack can feel the hard line of Dark’s cock as he grinds it slowly against Jack, pulling small, breathy moans from him. Dark’s pressing his face to the back of Jack’s neck, nuzzling at his hair, behind his ear, taking deep inhales of Jack’s scent, and he lets out a deep, deep hum of pleasure.
“What do you want, pet?” Dark asks.
And Jack’s momentarily surprised by the question, and a little annoyed, since he really didn’t expect to have to think right now. “I - I don’t know, anything. You.”
Dark huffs a breath and pulls back just enough that he’s no longer pressing against Jack. And Jack tries to follow, tries to get that friction back, but he’s held in place. “Fuck… You, Dark, I want you.”
“Better.” Dark says evenly behind him, but doesn’t move.
And then it clicks what Dark wants, and Jack says in a rush, “Touch me, please, I want you to touch me, sir.”
“Good boy.” Dark growls, and then his hands are on him, running down Jack’s back, under his shirt, pulling it off.
Dark runs his hands up Jack’s sides, thumbing over his nipples as Dark starts nipping and sucking at the junction of his neck. Dark starts rubbing and twisting Jack’s nipples between his fingers, and Jack gasps when he feels tingling, little sparks there. Actual electricity, a small current from Dark’s fingertips, little pricks of pain mingling with the pleasure, and it feels so good.
Dark’s grinding against Jack again, and Jack’s pressing back into him, breath coming in nothing but needy little pants and moans now. Dark moves a hand down, tingling following over Jack’s skin in the wake of his fingertips. He works the button open on Jack’s jeans, slipping a hand inside to palm over Jack’s damp boxers. Jack jerks at the touch, bucking into Dark’s hand, chasing the friction finally against his dick. God, he could get off like this, spilling into his jeans like a teenager. As Jack moans and throws his head back, he catches his lewd reflection in the window, and looks away in shame.
Dark notices, of course he does, and lifts a hand to hold Jack’s chin, forcing him to watch as Dark continues to rub him through his boxers. “Yes, look at you, pet, what a sight you make. So gorgeous, flushed and moaning wantonly against me. So responsive to my touch, leaking and needy, desperate for more.” Dark says, and then he’s pulling Jack’s dick out of his boxers and wrapping his hand around it properly.
Jack keens at the touch, Dark’s hand firm and twisting just right, swiping over the wetness at the head to ease the glide of his strokes. “Such beautiful sounds you make for me, little lark, you’re so good for me, writhing against me, moving so sweetly against my cock. You want it, don’t you, pet? Ask me for it, ask me for more pleasure.”
Jack feels… tingly and warm from Dark’s praise, wants more of it, wants to be good. He’s achingly hard, can already feel his orgasm building fast from Dark’s words, the hand stroking his dick, and he doesn’t feel shame anymore, he just wants.
“Y-yes, sir. I want - please, more.” Jack moans.
Dark lets out a sharp breath at that, and growls into Jack’s ear, “Clothes off, pet.” And Jack whines at the loss of friction when Dark withdraws his hand, “Go over to the bed, bend over the edge, and wait for me.”
And then Dark’s pulling away, and Jack fights his urge to follow. And Jack realizes… he can move again. He’s expected to move. This is a test. Dark’s giving him a choice - he can leave, or he can go over to the bed.
As if Jack’s gonna fuckin’ leave now.
He peels off the remainder of his clothes hastily on his way to the bed, but before he bends down he looks up at Dark, and his breath catches. Dark’s currently rolling up his sleeves, suit jacket and tie gone, a single button undone at his collar, and Jack feels like a scandalized Victorian lady for getting turned on at the sight of the muscles cording in his forearms. Jack allows himself a minute to watch Dark as he stalks towards the bed, and realizes Dark is still pretty much fully clothed.
“Wait, that’s not fair, why am I the only one naked?” Jack whines petulantly as Dark steps into his space.
Dark’s face is stern now, mouth turned down in disapproval, and Jack suddenly feels ashamed. Dark’s voice is scolding as he says, “I believe I gave you specific instructions to bend over.”
And then Dark is turning him, pushing him down with a firm hand on his back, and Jack just gasps and goes willingly. His face is pressed into the soft duvet, hands braced next to his head, and he feels Dark’s hand start to trail down his spine, sending stronger, more painful shocks along his skin. Jack gasps and winces at the sensation, pain and pleasure starting to become twisted together, blurred and setting Jack’s nerves alight.
“Stay, pet. You have to behave if you want my cock.” Dark rumbles, and then whispers in his ear, “I only fuck pets who deserve it.”
Jack groans and feels something pull in him at that, he wants to be good for Dark, he needs it. “I’m sorry, sir.” Jack says. “I’ll be good, I can be good.”
Dark hums. “I suppose I can overlook this time. You have been learning so well.” And then, Dark’s kneading his ass with both hands, spreading him, and the current is back to buzzing lowly, and it feels so good over the sensitive skin there. “So soft, so lovely.”
Jack feels his face heat at being open and on display under Dark, but the praise feels nice and warm as usual. Then Dark rubs his thumb over his hole and Jack gasps and jerks at the touch, the spark, feeling his cock twitch eagerly.
“Shhhh, pet, relax.” Dark smoothes a hand up over Jack’s spine to calm him. “Do you want more?”
“Yes, sir.” Jack says, and then, because he’s eager, “Please touch me, Dark, need to feel your hands on me.”
“So good for me.” Dark says, and the warmth is bursting in Jack’s chest again, skin tingling for a reason other than Dark’s touch.
Then Dark is spreading Jack’s cheeks again, and pressing a kiss above the swell of his ass, and that’s all the warning he gets before Dark’s licking a long, wet stripe over Jack’s hole, pulling a long moan from Jack. Dark does it once more before settling his mouth over Jack’s hole with intent, his tongue swirling around it, pressing the tip into it teasingly, gently grazing his teeth over the skin of Jack’s rim. And if Dark kissed Jack like he was savoring, Dark rims Jack like he’s starving. Like Jack is the best thing he’s ever tasted, and he’s hungry to feel every morsel on his lips, his tongue, his teeth. And Jack can’t do anything but hold on.
Then Dark’s pressing his tongue in past the tight ring of muscle, licking deep inside him, and Jack lets out an absolutely filthy sound. Jack’s orgasm is fast approaching again, dick throbbing and leaking a wet spot into the duvet below him. Jack grinds down against it, alternatively chasing the friction against his dick and pushing back onto Dark’s tongue, and christ this is it, he’s going to cum like this, he’s so close.
And then Dark’s mouth is gone, and his hands are using bruising force to keep Jack’s hips still, and Jack keens brokenly, panting. “Fuck, wait - don’t - why’d - please don’t stop, sir.”
Dark just hums and it’s maddening, but he’s running a soothing hand over Jack’s back again, like he’s settling a spooked animal. Jack feels himself start to ease off at that touch, arousal receding from the precipice into something low and smoldering again.
“Look at you, pet. The sight you made, chasing your own pleasure, fucking yourself on my tongue, so desperate, so perfect for me.” Dark rumbles, pressing light kisses into Jack’s skin. “Shhhh, sweetling, don’t worry, I haven’t finished with you yet, patience.”
Dark’s hand has gone back to his ass, now, and Jack gasps in anticipation as he rubs a single, slick, tingling finger over Jack’s hole, languid and teasing.
Jack groans out, “Yes, yes, please, sir.”
And then Dark’s finger is pushing inside, sinking in easily from Dark opening him up with his tongue. Dark starts moving his finger in and out slowly, and Jack can feel the shocks from it ease off a bit, but still there, creating a delicious buzzing current inside him.
“Such a good boy, so pretty.” Dark says, pressing a second finger inside Jack, stretching his rim, working him open. “You feel so good clenching around my fingers, pet. So tight and soft, you’re practically sucking me in. Going to feel so good around my cock. You’d look so gorgeous over me, flushed and needy, arching in pleasure as you fucked yourself down onto me, chasing your own release.”
Dark’s working three fingers inside of Jack now, stretching and massaging, and Jack’s letting out a string of small, cut off moans. And then Dark’s fingers twist in just the right way, and he’s pressing on Jack’s prostate and Jack sees stars from the bolt of pleasure that sings through him.
“Fuck, Dark, sir, there, right there.” Jack babbles brokenly.
He’s rewarded with another firm press, and he releases an absolutely wrecked moan. Jack’s alternating again between needy, frantic thrusts against bed and fucking himself back on Dark’s fingers, overwhelmed by the onslaught as Dark continues working his fingers against that spot. Jack’s knees are starting to go weak, and he’s kept up by Dark’s strong hands. Dark’s rubbing firm circles into and around his prostate, and the low, tingling current in his fingers is getting steadily stronger, sharper, the wonderful sting like a livewire to his oversensitive nerves. Jack’s reduced to a moaning, whimpering mess, tears starting to prick at the corners of his eyes as he feels himself get close again, the building feeling more intense this time, and it’s too much, too much, he just wants relief, god, he's right there.
Jack sobs as his orgasm is ripped away from him again, Dark’s fingers withdrawing harshly, grip firm on his hips as Dark presses his weight to Jack’s back to hold him steady.
“No! No, fuck, Dark, please, I can’t - I need - please, please, please don’t stop.” Jack begs, tears running down his face now, trying to buck against the solid bulk against him.
Dark is immovable above him, nipping and sucking at Jack’s neck again, running his fingers over Jack’s sides, shushing and soothing him. He’s grinding his erection so, so slow over Jack’s ass, as if he can’t help the movement. Jack can feel how hard he is, the moist spot on his pants, and christ it feels good to know Dark’s affected, what Jack is doing to him, too. Jack works hard to settle, sobs subsiding into deep, steadying breaths, and he feels Dark hum against his nape.
“Good, pet.” Dark rasps, almost a groan, and that fills Jack with satisfaction. Jack realizes, belatedly, that Dark’s shirt was entirely unbuttoned now. “You’re doing so well, giving me such exquisite sounds, moving so perfectly to my touch, such a stunning creature. Feel what you do to me, pet, how hard and aching I am against you, all for you. You’ve earned your reward, now, my pretty little lark. Do you want it? Tell me how much you want it. Beg for me.”
Jack’s so wound up, so wrapped in Dark’s words, his praise, his touch, that the pleas spill easily from his lips. “Please, sir, I want it so much. I’ve been so good for you, please, fuck me, want to feel you in me, please.”
And that does earn a stifled groan from Dark, rumbling through his chest and into Jack’s back. Dark’s shifting, and Jack feels a thrill at the sound of Dark unbuckling his belt. Then one hand is pressing Jack into the bed, the other lining himself up, and Dark’s pressing in, in, in, and Jack lets out a sound that’s absolutely inhuman. Dark’s cock is big, the girth of it burning sweetly as Jack’s split open, feels himself stretch around it. Dark finally bottoms out inside him, and Jack can feel him so, so deep, filling him, pressing in all the right places, and he moans to hear Dark’s soft pants above him, keeping himself still to allow Jack to adjust.
Feeling emboldened, Jack clenches and shifts his hips against Dark, just to pull another bitten off groan from him. “Come on, Dark, sir. Fuck me, move.”
Jack can practically feel Dark’s smirk. “As you wish.”
Dark pulls back suddenly, just the tip of his cock staying inside Jack, and then thrusts hard back in. He does it over, and over, gradually building a faster rhythm, until he shifts just right into that spot that sends white hot pleasure through Jack, hitting it with purposeful accuracy on each thrust.
“Fuck, fuck - ah - yes, right there, Dark - harder - oh, god, christ, please!” Jack moans beneath him, and Jack realizes his mistake when Dark’s rhythm falters, and he groans loud and pained. Jack can see Dark out of the corner of his eyes - the black mist swirling around Dark, face twisted, eyes jet black - and it takes Dark slightly longer to regain composure this time.
But once he does, he buries himself deep inside Jack, one hand coming up to wrap a firm grip around Jack’s wrist and the other fisting Jack’s hair, pulling his head back harshly as Dark presses his weight down over him again. With Dark’s face so close, Jack can see his eyes are still black, a predatory smirk on Dark’s face.
“Careful, pet.” Dark rumbles, resuming short, deep thrusts. “I quite enjoy hearing you, it would be a shame to have to gag that pretty, little mouth.”
Jack moans at the image, but he does feel a little bad. “Sorry, sir - ah - I’m sorry. You d-don’t have to gag me. Oh - I’ll be good.”
“Mmm, I know you will, my perfect little lark.” Dark says, and then he’s pulling Jack’s head to the side to suck hard at the junction of Jack’s neck and his thrusts resume in earnest.
Dark’s moving in all the right ways, thrusting mercilessly against that bundle of nerves inside Jack, and with the ministrations on his neck, the sting in his scalp, Jack can feel the pleasure rising steadily inside of him. He's quickly coming apart, a wreck of needy keens and moans, each of Dark’s thrusts pushing him forward and rubbing his dick deliciously against the bed, duvet wet and slick from the sheer amount leaking from Jack.
Jack can feel himself hurtling towards release, can feel his overstimulated nerves singing with the intensity of it, and he’s so, so scared it will be ripped away again, he couldn’t take that, he needs to cum. So he begs.
“Dark, sir - ah - please, I’m gonna cum - oh, chr - fuck, ah - please, please, fuck please, let me cum, sir.” And Jack relishes the moan that gets from Dark.
“Yes, pet. You’ve been so good, taking me so well, you look so perfect around my cock.” Dark growls into his ear, voice rough with his own pleasure, and Jack thinks he might be close, too. “Let me see you, feel you, hear your bliss. Let go, pet.”
And Jack can feel the familiar heat pulling him, the clenching in his gut, overwhelming, so much, too much, on his oversensitive nerves.
Then Dark says, “Cum for me, Jack.”
And Jack’s gone. His vision blurs as the white hot wave of pleasure crashes through him, body taught with it, and he sobs as he spills over the duvet, Dark fucking him through his orgasm until he has nothing left in him, and he’s just giving occasional twitches and gasps.
“Lovely.” Dark groans above him, sounding wrecked.
Dark keeps going, doesn't stop, doesn't slow, Jack feeling the shock of overstimulation with each thrust, but it doesn’t last long until Dark’s rhythm is faltering. He buries himself deep, deep inside Jack, and Jack can feel warmth inside him as Dark empties himself with short, abortive thrusts, the dark mist surrounding him again, cumming with a stifled groan and short, cut off gasps.
Once he’s spent, Dark releases Jack’s hair and smoothes his fingers over Jack’s scalp, pressing gentle kisses to his shoulder. The hand at Jack’s wrist rubs soothingly over the skin there, and then over Jack’s hand, entwining their fingers. Jack doesn’t know how long they stay like that, he feels hazy, out of focus. Dark moves him, then, and Jack winces as Dark slips out of him, and Jack’s afraid he’s going to fall, but Dark doesn’t let that happen. Instead, he lets Dark guide him, cleaning him up, and Dark’s mumbling praise in his ear, and Jack just lets himself bask in it, floaty and content.
“You were so good, Jack, thank you, my wonderful little lark. Sweet, beautiful Jack. Easy, now, there you go. Rest. Such a treasure for me, doing so well. Thank you, Jack.” Dark says as he gets Jack settled under the covers of the bed.
And when Jack’s mind slowly comes back to him, he realizes Dark is just sitting on the edge of the bed, carding fingers through his hair.
“M’tired, Dark, let’s sleep.” Jack says.
Dark chuckles. “Would you like me to lay with you?”
“Yeah, c’mere.” Jack mumbles, pulling weakly at Dark’s arm.
Dark slides in next to him, and Jack realizes he’s completely naked, now. It’s nice, feeling his skin against Jack’s as Dark curls around him, pulling Jack to his chest, running his fingertips along Jack’s back.
“M’not gonna be damned now, am I? My souls not, like, yours, right?” Jack asks against Dark’s skin.
Dark hums in amusement. “No, pet, that’s not how it works. Rest assured, I have no claim over you.”
And Jack makes a small, unhappy noise at that. “I wouldn’t say that.”
Dark presses a kiss into Jack’s hair, smiling, “Very well, then, you are mine. Now sleep, my Jack.”
And Jack, exhausted as he is, feeling warm and safe and surrounded by Dark, sleeps.
***
Dark was gone in the morning. Everything was gone in the morning, and Jack found himself dozing on the front porch, plush pillow under his head and wrapped in a soft blanket, camera gently placed next to him.
Jack was a bit confused, and almost thought it had been a dream, if it weren’t for the pillow and blanket. But, he figured demons probably weren’t big on attachment, and while it stung a bit, this was probably just a one-time thing for Dark. Jack chuckled a bit at the thought that he’d just had a one night stand with a demon. Christ.
So Jack made his way back home, still feeling content and buzzing from the absolutely mind blowing night he’d had. Seriously, of all the things Jack would have expected on this hunt, crazy, hot, demon sex was positively not on the list. But Jack certainly wasn’t complaining.
Once back at his apartment, Jack decided to check his camera. Yeah, Dark probably wiped the memory card, but maybe he’d left one image, Jack had to be sure. He actually had really liked the architecture of the house, and really hoped to salvage at least something.
Jack’s face flushed beet red when he realized that what Dark left him was, decidedly, not video of architecture, and definitely not content he could ever post, anywhere, let alone YouTube. Good, god.
…But Jack also couldn’t bring himself to delete the video, either.
Instead, he saved it.