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"When you walk away,
Cut me open, take my heart
So we'll never be apart
Don't you let it go to waste."
Tags & warnings. NSFW, NON-CONSENSUAL. (+18)
Word count. 2.5k
Summary. You, literally, physically, cannot break with your boyfriends. (Inspired by the reddit story.)
The 4 of you were in tune, just as you had been throughout your entire relationship. Steven, Marc, and Jake were aware that this would happen at some point or another, much to their liking sooner rather than later, but sometimes there's not much you can do. Sometimes, being the keyword.
As time passed, your patience dwindled little by little. Cleaning Jake's wounds, comforting Steven's nightmares, and picking up the broken pieces of Marc's fits of anger became 'too much' when you realized that you were the one living with pain silently most of the time.
It wasn't their fault, you were aware of that, you couldn't deny that they loved you, and you didn't have the strength to lie to yourself about it, but you also knew that there was no way they would rid themselves of the title of vigilante. Khonshu didn't let them go, but they didn't fight as much as you would like either.
The sound of the door pulled you out of your thoughts, and one last time Marc's exhausted expression caused a stir in your heart. You gave him a small smile, and he, seeing that strange expression, knew that the day had come.
"What are you doing awake?" He closed the door behind him.
"I was waiting for you." When your body shifted to one side of the couch, there was space for him beside you. Marc understood, the couch creaked under his weight, he was right at the corner of it, raising his arm to the backrest to be able to touch your shoulder with his fingers in a loving gesture. "We need to talk."
He nodded silently, his breath hitched but he managed to disguise it for you.
"I can't do this anymore, Marc." Your voice broke when you said his name, and he gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze as if trying to convey the strength you needed to continue. "I love you but I think this isn't the best for either of us."
He nodded again, biting the inside of his cheek.
"I understand." He didn't make a scene, he didn't raise his voice, and he didn't plead, and even though the tears trapped in his eyes portrayed the real pain he felt, you knew he loved you too much to make this harder for you.
Marc would never turn the knife that he had already stabbed you with when he agreed to be in a relationship with you. He pulled your wrist and with a push, he brought you against his chest where you cried for a good 10 minutes until his voice caught your attention.
"I'm going to leave, okay?"
"You don't have to do it, not now." You checked the time on his watch; he still had an arm around you. "It's late."
"I need to be alone." His lips occasionally brushed against your hair, small kisses that carried the scent of your shampoo. "Please."
This time it was your turn to nod silently.
Your bodies broke the hug, and both of you felt the cold of the night hit you like a truck. You watched with crossed arms as he removed Steven and Jake's posters from the walls; he never liked putting up decorations of that kind.
He packed up what he could in some boxes, books, clothes, even a picture frame with a photo of both of you, he loaded everything into Jake's car.
He took your cheeks one last time, and you enjoyed the taste of mint in his mouth, those chewing gums he used to try to relax his anxiety, those that never worked. When Marc left, you sent a couple of messages to acquaintances to break the news because you had been together for so long that your partner could already be considered part of your family and your group of friends; you received some immediate responses.
Mostly words of encouragement, regretting that things hadn't worked out.
You went to sleep in a cold, lonely bed, but with a strange sensation, as if a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. You had the chance to start over, to live a life with fewer worries.
Things could get better.
Steven's late-night podcast woke you up around 10 in the morning on Saturday, accompanied by a delicious scent of waffles; you knew it was him because the coconut aroma always prevailed in his vegan breakfasts.
Without opening your eyes, you complained to yourself. Were they trying to change your mind now? You were ready to argue.
The feeling of discomfort caught your breath in your lungs when you opened your eyes and saw the posters back on the wall. Looking down was also a surprise; you were wearing one of Steven's shirts, your favorite for sleeping.
You could swear Marc had taken it the day before along with many of his things.
"Love?" Steven's smile slowly faded when you appeared in the kitchen, an uncomfortable expression on your face. "Is something wrong? Are you okay?" He stopped what he was doing to walk up to you, his delicate touch landing on your cheeks just as Marc had done the night before, squeezing them to get your attention.
"I think... mhm." You let him interrupt you with a kiss. "I had a bad dream." Or at least, that's what you were trying to convince yourself. There was no other explanation for this happening.
"Sorry for leaving you alone in bed, I was starving." He looked genuinely concerned as his forehead rested against yours. "I made waffles for you; I know they're your favorites."
You spent the morning with him, and Steven being as affectionate as always didn't surprise you; that simply was Steven's personality. As the day went on, you understood that you had only experienced an extremely lucid dream, so you would have to go through this again somehow.
While your boyfriend rested his head on your lap, you stretched just a bit to grab your phone, which lit up with a message arrival, and you took the opportunity to check one last time that you weren't going crazy. You scrolled through all the messages, and there was none talking about breakups or anything close; in fact, your last message had been sent to their shared phone, you saying you missed them without receiving a response.
Your other hand, almost by inertia, played with Steven's curls as you searched for any sign that told you that the previous night had indeed happened.
Nothing.
"Are you okay?" He mumbled sleepily; apparently, your fingers had tensed in his hair.
"Mhm." You swallowed hard. You couldn't do this again; it felt like a cruel joke of life. "Can we talk? Please?"
Very much against his will, he straightened his back and faced you. Those beautiful brown eyes with dark circles underneath looked at you with as much admiration as they always had, his fingers intertwined with yours, and his thumbs stroked your hands.
"What's wrong, love?"
"We can't be together anymore." It was better if you did it bluntly, as if ripping off a band-aid all at once rather than doing it slowly.
His expression gradually fell, tears filled his eyes, his brow furrowed, and a small pout appeared on his lips. His fingers slowly tightened around yours.
Your hands hurt from the way he clung to you.
"Steven, you're hurting me." You sobbed too when you saw him cry openly. When you stood up, he fell to his knees in front of you without letting go. If only your dream had been real; going through this was hurting your heart twice as much as you had ever imagined.
Another reminder that Marc and Steven were not the same person.
"Sorry, I-I'm sorry." He stuttered as you helped him to his feet. He released your hands to hug you against his chest, almost cutting off your breath with the suddenness of his movements. "I'm sorry, love."
Sorry for what? He hadn't done anything wrong in the relationship; not all breakups arose from mistakes on either side, sometimes things just didn't work out, and that was it.
He, internally, knew very well why he was apologizing to you.
"I need to be alone, Steven." You whispered when you felt him hiccup against you in pain; his shirt you were wearing felt damp by now at shoulder level.
You gently pushed him back by the chest, and he took a step back, still trembling.
"I... Y-yeah, of course, I... understand." He forced himself to take a step back.
"Jake's car keys are where they always are." With heaviness, you had to turn your back on him, or you knew he would never leave. You could feel his brown orbs glued to you for just a few seconds before the slam of the door made you startle.
You ran your hands over your face in desperation. Facing it a second time had been worse, but things were done, fortunately, and you could talk about it better later, or at least that's what you hoped, when he felt calmer.
You sent messages giving the news, unlike your dream, this time it was a way to beg that no one asked about Jake, Marc, or Steven. You didn't have the strength.
A pair of arms tightened around you strongly causing you to groan in the middle of your sleep. You snapped your eyes open, feeling suffocated by the pressure.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” You slurred as you struggled to get out of his grip.
“What's wrong, princesa?” He growled lowly as he pulled you tighter against him. He raised his head a little so he could look at you. He had barely one eye open, and thus he managed to look confused.
“Let go of me, Jake!” You were noticeably upset, his arms seemed to enclose you with increasing force as if he didn't notice that you were on the verge of a panic attack. The previous few hours hadn't been a dream, you were sure.
Your back hit his chest and you felt his breath on your neck.
“Wasn't one round enough for you?" His hips collided with yours to give emphasis to his words. “Do you want me to get you tired, amor?” One of his arms continued to take your breath away while his right hand moved down your body, stopping at one of your tits, squeezing it with his fingers almost in a playful way before continuing to crawl downwards, heading between your legs.
“Let go of me, I don't even know what the fuck you're doing here.”
Your voice cracked, breaking his heart.
But not as much as it would break him to let you go.
“I live here, tontita.” His fingers were rubbing against your pussy lips slowly. Up and down, forcing you to open your legs a little more.
“Jake, please.” Your eyes were filled with tears. This was a horrible nightmare.
“Shh, be a good girl for me, okay? I had a long day.”
You didn't even put in any strength. You didn't have it anymore. As his fingers played with you, his hips pushed against your ass, over and over, rubbing his boner against you.
He was going to admit it, even he couldn't imagine being attracted to the idea of something like this. But after your attempts to escape, this felt like a way to reaffirm that you belonged to him.
“Look how wet you are, did you miss me?” When he got tired of his fingers doing the work he forced them into your mouth, making you taste yourself.
Steven's shirt that you again didn't remember wearing made his job easier, only pushing aside your panties to insert his cock deep inside your being in a single thrust. And you no longer knew if you were sobbing from pleasure or fear.
You didn't remember him being so rough to you before. With one push he flipped you onto your stomach with him crushing your entire body, where he could thrust more comfortably with a handful of your hair tangled in his fingers.
You heard the bed creak, his gasps, and you felt your face wet from your saliva and tears filling your pillow.
“Fuck, that's just w-what I needed.” He was using you. You could recognize it, sex between you always meant pleasure for both of you, now he seemed to be using you as a thing where to leave his cum.
Between tears and kicking, deep down, you knew you were liking it.
He didn't last long, not right when he discovered how much he liked taking you this way. You slept with him next to you, with his sperm running down your legs and wishing this too had just been a dream.
You didn't search for them around the apartment the following morning; as soon as you got up, you ran straight to grab a suitcase, if you didn't escape your own damn mind was going to drive you crazy.
Three days had been enough to make it difficult for you to differentiate between reality and your lucid dreams or whatever it was you were experiencing. You bumped into Marc as you exited the room.
"Woah, what's going on?"
You didn't even respond to him; you couldn't even look him in the face after what they had done to you.
"Move!" You pushed him as hard as you could, grabbing your phone, which for the third time had not a single message about the breakup.
"Sweetheart?"
"How the hell dare you ask me what's wrong!?" You were shattered, your mind, your body, you. "Last night, Jake... "
"Huh?" He interrupted you with a furrowed brow. "We just got here, sweetheart."
No, no, no, no, he was lying to you.
He had to be lying to you. You wanted to wipe that confused expression off his face with punches and tear off the hand he was using to point at Jake's car keys in their place.
You put them there; he just threw them wherever when he arrived.
And truth be told, when you looked down between your legs, you were almost too clean.
You were going crazy.
"Fuck off, Marc." Erratically, you ripped the charger off your phone from the wall and almost ran to the front door as if he were chasing you. Which clearly he wasn't. In fact, he wasn't doing anything except looking confused. "You and Steven and Jake, leave me alone."
The slam of the door made you feel free, as did the car horns and sounds of street vendors.
That night, you searched for the farthest motel you could find; you kept your phone off after sending messages to acquaintances assuring them you were okay but didn't feel comfortable sharing your location with them at the moment.
Ah, and at least you had a good night's sleep, after a long time.
“Pancakes or waffles?”
Steven's voice made you snap your eyes open. Your head was on his arm, and you felt the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed against your back.
Tears filled your eyes when you recognized the place around you.
Your home.
When your sobs reached your boyfriend's ears, you immediately felt him place a kiss on your shoulder.
"When you walk away,
Cut me open, take my heart
So we'll never be apart
Don't you let it go to waste."
Tags & warnings. NSFW, NON-CONSENSUAL. (+18)
Word count. 2.5k
Summary. You, literally, physically, cannot break with your boyfriends. (Inspired by the reddit story.)
The 4 of you were in tune, just as you had been throughout your entire relationship. Steven, Marc, and Jake were aware that this would happen at some point or another, much to their liking sooner rather than later, but sometimes there's not much you can do. Sometimes, being the keyword.
As time passed, your patience dwindled little by little. Cleaning Jake's wounds, comforting Steven's nightmares, and picking up the broken pieces of Marc's fits of anger became 'too much' when you realized that you were the one living with pain silently most of the time.
It wasn't their fault, you were aware of that, you couldn't deny that they loved you, and you didn't have the strength to lie to yourself about it, but you also knew that there was no way they would rid themselves of the title of vigilante. Khonshu didn't let them go, but they didn't fight as much as you would like either.
The sound of the door pulled you out of your thoughts, and one last time Marc's exhausted expression caused a stir in your heart. You gave him a small smile, and he, seeing that strange expression, knew that the day had come.
"What are you doing awake?" He closed the door behind him.
"I was waiting for you." When your body shifted to one side of the couch, there was space for him beside you. Marc understood, the couch creaked under his weight, he was right at the corner of it, raising his arm to the backrest to be able to touch your shoulder with his fingers in a loving gesture. "We need to talk."
He nodded silently, his breath hitched but he managed to disguise it for you.
"I can't do this anymore, Marc." Your voice broke when you said his name, and he gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze as if trying to convey the strength you needed to continue. "I love you but I think this isn't the best for either of us."
He nodded again, biting the inside of his cheek.
"I understand." He didn't make a scene, he didn't raise his voice, and he didn't plead, and even though the tears trapped in his eyes portrayed the real pain he felt, you knew he loved you too much to make this harder for you.
Marc would never turn the knife that he had already stabbed you with when he agreed to be in a relationship with you. He pulled your wrist and with a push, he brought you against his chest where you cried for a good 10 minutes until his voice caught your attention.
"I'm going to leave, okay?"
"You don't have to do it, not now." You checked the time on his watch; he still had an arm around you. "It's late."
"I need to be alone." His lips occasionally brushed against your hair, small kisses that carried the scent of your shampoo. "Please."
This time it was your turn to nod silently.
Your bodies broke the hug, and both of you felt the cold of the night hit you like a truck. You watched with crossed arms as he removed Steven and Jake's posters from the walls; he never liked putting up decorations of that kind.
He packed up what he could in some boxes, books, clothes, even a picture frame with a photo of both of you, he loaded everything into Jake's car.
He took your cheeks one last time, and you enjoyed the taste of mint in his mouth, those chewing gums he used to try to relax his anxiety, those that never worked. When Marc left, you sent a couple of messages to acquaintances to break the news because you had been together for so long that your partner could already be considered part of your family and your group of friends; you received some immediate responses.
Mostly words of encouragement, regretting that things hadn't worked out.
You went to sleep in a cold, lonely bed, but with a strange sensation, as if a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. You had the chance to start over, to live a life with fewer worries.
Things could get better.
Steven's late-night podcast woke you up around 10 in the morning on Saturday, accompanied by a delicious scent of waffles; you knew it was him because the coconut aroma always prevailed in his vegan breakfasts.
Without opening your eyes, you complained to yourself. Were they trying to change your mind now? You were ready to argue.
The feeling of discomfort caught your breath in your lungs when you opened your eyes and saw the posters back on the wall. Looking down was also a surprise; you were wearing one of Steven's shirts, your favorite for sleeping.
You could swear Marc had taken it the day before along with many of his things.
"Love?" Steven's smile slowly faded when you appeared in the kitchen, an uncomfortable expression on your face. "Is something wrong? Are you okay?" He stopped what he was doing to walk up to you, his delicate touch landing on your cheeks just as Marc had done the night before, squeezing them to get your attention.
"I think... mhm." You let him interrupt you with a kiss. "I had a bad dream." Or at least, that's what you were trying to convince yourself. There was no other explanation for this happening.
"Sorry for leaving you alone in bed, I was starving." He looked genuinely concerned as his forehead rested against yours. "I made waffles for you; I know they're your favorites."
You spent the morning with him, and Steven being as affectionate as always didn't surprise you; that simply was Steven's personality. As the day went on, you understood that you had only experienced an extremely lucid dream, so you would have to go through this again somehow.
While your boyfriend rested his head on your lap, you stretched just a bit to grab your phone, which lit up with a message arrival, and you took the opportunity to check one last time that you weren't going crazy. You scrolled through all the messages, and there was none talking about breakups or anything close; in fact, your last message had been sent to their shared phone, you saying you missed them without receiving a response.
Your other hand, almost by inertia, played with Steven's curls as you searched for any sign that told you that the previous night had indeed happened.
Nothing.
"Are you okay?" He mumbled sleepily; apparently, your fingers had tensed in his hair.
"Mhm." You swallowed hard. You couldn't do this again; it felt like a cruel joke of life. "Can we talk? Please?"
Very much against his will, he straightened his back and faced you. Those beautiful brown eyes with dark circles underneath looked at you with as much admiration as they always had, his fingers intertwined with yours, and his thumbs stroked your hands.
"What's wrong, love?"
"We can't be together anymore." It was better if you did it bluntly, as if ripping off a band-aid all at once rather than doing it slowly.
His expression gradually fell, tears filled his eyes, his brow furrowed, and a small pout appeared on his lips. His fingers slowly tightened around yours.
Your hands hurt from the way he clung to you.
"Steven, you're hurting me." You sobbed too when you saw him cry openly. When you stood up, he fell to his knees in front of you without letting go. If only your dream had been real; going through this was hurting your heart twice as much as you had ever imagined.
Another reminder that Marc and Steven were not the same person.
"Sorry, I-I'm sorry." He stuttered as you helped him to his feet. He released your hands to hug you against his chest, almost cutting off your breath with the suddenness of his movements. "I'm sorry, love."
Sorry for what? He hadn't done anything wrong in the relationship; not all breakups arose from mistakes on either side, sometimes things just didn't work out, and that was it.
He, internally, knew very well why he was apologizing to you.
"I need to be alone, Steven." You whispered when you felt him hiccup against you in pain; his shirt you were wearing felt damp by now at shoulder level.
You gently pushed him back by the chest, and he took a step back, still trembling.
"I... Y-yeah, of course, I... understand." He forced himself to take a step back.
"Jake's car keys are where they always are." With heaviness, you had to turn your back on him, or you knew he would never leave. You could feel his brown orbs glued to you for just a few seconds before the slam of the door made you startle.
You ran your hands over your face in desperation. Facing it a second time had been worse, but things were done, fortunately, and you could talk about it better later, or at least that's what you hoped, when he felt calmer.
You sent messages giving the news, unlike your dream, this time it was a way to beg that no one asked about Jake, Marc, or Steven. You didn't have the strength.
A pair of arms tightened around you strongly causing you to groan in the middle of your sleep. You snapped your eyes open, feeling suffocated by the pressure.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” You slurred as you struggled to get out of his grip.
“What's wrong, princesa?” He growled lowly as he pulled you tighter against him. He raised his head a little so he could look at you. He had barely one eye open, and thus he managed to look confused.
“Let go of me, Jake!” You were noticeably upset, his arms seemed to enclose you with increasing force as if he didn't notice that you were on the verge of a panic attack. The previous few hours hadn't been a dream, you were sure.
Your back hit his chest and you felt his breath on your neck.
“Wasn't one round enough for you?" His hips collided with yours to give emphasis to his words. “Do you want me to get you tired, amor?” One of his arms continued to take your breath away while his right hand moved down your body, stopping at one of your tits, squeezing it with his fingers almost in a playful way before continuing to crawl downwards, heading between your legs.
“Let go of me, I don't even know what the fuck you're doing here.”
Your voice cracked, breaking his heart.
But not as much as it would break him to let you go.
“I live here, tontita.” His fingers were rubbing against your pussy lips slowly. Up and down, forcing you to open your legs a little more.
“Jake, please.” Your eyes were filled with tears. This was a horrible nightmare.
“Shh, be a good girl for me, okay? I had a long day.”
You didn't even put in any strength. You didn't have it anymore. As his fingers played with you, his hips pushed against your ass, over and over, rubbing his boner against you.
He was going to admit it, even he couldn't imagine being attracted to the idea of something like this. But after your attempts to escape, this felt like a way to reaffirm that you belonged to him.
“Look how wet you are, did you miss me?” When he got tired of his fingers doing the work he forced them into your mouth, making you taste yourself.
Steven's shirt that you again didn't remember wearing made his job easier, only pushing aside your panties to insert his cock deep inside your being in a single thrust. And you no longer knew if you were sobbing from pleasure or fear.
You didn't remember him being so rough to you before. With one push he flipped you onto your stomach with him crushing your entire body, where he could thrust more comfortably with a handful of your hair tangled in his fingers.
You heard the bed creak, his gasps, and you felt your face wet from your saliva and tears filling your pillow.
“Fuck, that's just w-what I needed.” He was using you. You could recognize it, sex between you always meant pleasure for both of you, now he seemed to be using you as a thing where to leave his cum.
Between tears and kicking, deep down, you knew you were liking it.
He didn't last long, not right when he discovered how much he liked taking you this way. You slept with him next to you, with his sperm running down your legs and wishing this too had just been a dream.
You didn't search for them around the apartment the following morning; as soon as you got up, you ran straight to grab a suitcase, if you didn't escape your own damn mind was going to drive you crazy.
Three days had been enough to make it difficult for you to differentiate between reality and your lucid dreams or whatever it was you were experiencing. You bumped into Marc as you exited the room.
"Woah, what's going on?"
You didn't even respond to him; you couldn't even look him in the face after what they had done to you.
"Move!" You pushed him as hard as you could, grabbing your phone, which for the third time had not a single message about the breakup.
"Sweetheart?"
"How the hell dare you ask me what's wrong!?" You were shattered, your mind, your body, you. "Last night, Jake... "
"Huh?" He interrupted you with a furrowed brow. "We just got here, sweetheart."
No, no, no, no, he was lying to you.
He had to be lying to you. You wanted to wipe that confused expression off his face with punches and tear off the hand he was using to point at Jake's car keys in their place.
You put them there; he just threw them wherever when he arrived.
And truth be told, when you looked down between your legs, you were almost too clean.
You were going crazy.
"Fuck off, Marc." Erratically, you ripped the charger off your phone from the wall and almost ran to the front door as if he were chasing you. Which clearly he wasn't. In fact, he wasn't doing anything except looking confused. "You and Steven and Jake, leave me alone."
The slam of the door made you feel free, as did the car horns and sounds of street vendors.
That night, you searched for the farthest motel you could find; you kept your phone off after sending messages to acquaintances assuring them you were okay but didn't feel comfortable sharing your location with them at the moment.
Ah, and at least you had a good night's sleep, after a long time.
“Pancakes or waffles?”
Steven's voice made you snap your eyes open. Your head was on his arm, and you felt the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed against your back.
Tears filled your eyes when you recognized the place around you.
Your home.
When your sobs reached your boyfriend's ears, you immediately felt him place a kiss on your shoulder.
Tags & warnings. Exhibitionism + brat tammer. (+18)
Word count. 1.4k
Summary. You want to keep acting like a bitch? He'll treat you like one.
Kinktober masterlist.
It had been 20 minutes since you couldn't stand yourself. The heat of Greece was killing you; everything felt sticky, your hair had frizzed up after the long time you spent fixing it, and you undoubtedly despised Rydal.
Why? You didn't really have a reason; he was just the last person you wanted to see. Which was a bit silly considering that you were traveling together.
You had a complicated relationship, yes, but he was a good friend and an excellent tour guide.
Oh, and he was amazing in bed.
Maybe he didn't deserve it, but when bad mood struck, it was a lost battle for you and everyone around you. The best thing was to simply wait for time to pass until things relaxed on their own.
You had been walking for an hour, and he kept talking, talking, talking, never stopping. You just nodded or made sounds that translated as a 'Yes, I'm listening' kind of thing.
"And... the last step." This was a tradition of his; you celebrated reaching the end of the path, together and out of breath.
There were almost always kisses involved, and the way you turned your face to avoid him was enough to make Rydal lose the ounce of patience he had left with you. Still, he smiled; he always had everything under control.
"We made it. Bochali viewpoint."
The village looked beautiful from up there, and you couldn't deny that both the silence and having completed the journey did ease your furrowed brow a bit.
"Sit on the edge," he murmured in your ear, and you could only look up, confused by the sudden order.
"What? I don't think it's allowe..."
"Sit on the edge." His voice suddenly grew firmer, and his hand on your lower back gave you a little push that made you walk clumsily. You looked around to make sure that no one else could see you and obeyed. With your gaze ahead, you sat on the rocky ledge that protected the edge of the lookout.
You felt the uncomfortable pressure of the stones against your skin, your thighs exposed thanks to your choice of wearing a sundress that ensured you wouldn't pass out from the heat halfway. Rydal stood up behind you.
"You've been acting like a fucking bitch all day," he whispered in your ear, your cheeks turning a rosy cute tone almost instantly as his hands settled on your hips. "Open your legs."
You weren't far enough away; you could make out the figures of people in the distance, which undoubtedly meant that people could see you.
"Rydal, no, they can see us," you stammered quickly, his right hand sliding down one of your legs until he could give a tug, opening them just as he had asked.
You swallowed hard.
"If you want to behave like one, then I'll treat you like one." One of his hands remained on your thigh, his fingers gripping it to make you understand that you couldn't cover yourself. "We'll let everyone see how much of a bitch you are." He licked his lips before starting to kiss your neck softly.
Maybe that's what you needed to forget your bad mood.
You closed your eyes, and instinctively, your head tilted to the side, giving him more room in the area as his kisses turned into bites and hickies. You both had been there for three days, and you couldn't find any more space on your skin to add more marks.
Your underwear became damp in less time than you would have liked. His fingers teased your pussy lips above the fabric.
"Take off your panties," he whispered against your skin as he slowly slid said piece of fabric down your thighs. You obediently lifted your hips so he could expuse you completely, letting your underwear fall.
You always thought that if you left a souvenir on one of your trips with a guy, it would be one of those locks with both of your names on a cute bridge, not your panties caught in some bushes a few meters away.
You felt the breeze hit the humidity between your legs and a shiver ran through you from head to toe. His left hand held you still in place by your waist, his opposite hand began the work.
He slid his index and middle finger between your lips to wet them with your arousal, you trembled when they found your entrance, firmly inserting themselves inside you.
“Fuck, Rydal.” You stammered as your back pressed against his chest for balance.
“This was what you needed, wasn't it?” He took out his fingers and pushed them back into you with such speed and force that you were able to hear how the liquid coming out of you made his thrusts louder. “If only I had known this was enough to wipe that scowl off your pretty face.”
You nodded quickly with your eyes closed, your head falling onto the boy's shoulder.
“Put your legs up.”
“Rydal.”
“Put them up.” He growled and you obeyed awkwardly. You raised both legs onto the fence, bending them slightly so that you were completely exposed to the panorama. Surely more than one person had already seen you. “I want to show them how to treat a brat like you.”
With his fingers completely inside you, and he continued to push deeper. You felt him rub against that sweet spot inside you that made you whimper out loud.
Your slick wet the stones beneath you, you moved your hips slowly seeking more contact between your body and his hand. You thought you were about to lose your mind when his thumb pressed against your swollen clit, hungry for some attention.
“Look at you, sweetheart.” The hand that was kept on your waist crawled up little by little, cupping one of your tits. He squeezed with his fingers in that rough way that only Rydal knew. “Such a good girl.”
It didn't take long for him to slide his hand under the neckline of your dress to have better access to your breast, pinching your nipple until it hurt, you whimpered with your eyes closed. You were getting closer to your limit.
“Apologize.” Of course, Rydal already recognized perfectly when your body was about to reach it, he felt your walls squeeze his fingers while he increased the pace of his movements. “Come on, tell me you're sorry.”
“S-Sorry, Rydal, s-sorry.” You muttered in a breathy voice as you swore you heard your screams echoing across the landscape. You were close to begging for more.
“Louder, princess, I couldn't understand you.” Princess was his favorite nickname for when you were misbehaving. He always told you that you behaved like one, not exactly as a compliment.
"Sorry, sorry! M-More, please, please. R-Rydal!”
“Are you going to behave like that again?” His thumb played with your clit, giving it quick touches that made your entire body vibrate in place, suffering from small spasms.
When you didn't respond his fingers came out of you, he used them to gently slap your sensitive pussy. It throbbed around nothing and you could swear your eyes were filling with tears from your desperation to cum once and for all.
"Answer to me". One more slap brought out a pained moan from you, your body shaking.
"N-No." You shook your head quickly, your back arching slightly in place as a way to push your hips closer to his hands. “I-I won't, I…” You took a deep breath. You were choking in your own moans. "I promise".
"Good girl". Placing a small kiss on your shoulder he finally gave you what you wanted, his fingers inserting inside you again, his thumb pressing your clit and tracing circles that brought you to the end faster than you expected.
Your whole body tensed as you enjoyed the devastating orgasm, he nibbled on your neck roughly with the intention of leaving more marks on it. His opposite hand kept pinching your nipple on the left side.
His movements became slow as you relaxed, and after a few minutes he finally removed his fingers from inside you and brought them to your mouth, pushing them between your lips in an act that you accepted immediately. With your eyes closed and breathing hard you began to suck them clean, tasting yourself.
"Better?" He placed one last kiss on your cheek, but not before you turned towards him, your lips brushing against his as you felt him smile.
You nodded your head slowly, something almost imperceptible.
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Summary. Marc got tired of Steven and Jake breaking his rules.
Kinktober masterlist.
So far, the agreement had been going relatively well. You were in a serious relationship with Marc at first, you met in a café like those silly romantic movies, with the small difference that you almost killed him by spilling your cold drink on him and tripping over him.
Neither of you could deny that things were moving very fast, but everything with him was so ridiculously easy that you weren't afraid to give him your all. You told him about the pet you lost when you were young, about the disagreements with your parents, and the occasional traumatic event in your life. He did the same.
When he told you about Steven and Jake, you joked that he was winning the trauma competition, and he could breathe easy knowing that this was not even close to being an obstacle to your relationship. He could trust you.
Things began to get a bit out of control when everything also became easy with Jake and Steven, each with their own personal charm. You never imagined being with three very different guys, but starting to experience it was a real adventure. The problem was that while you were having fun, they had endless discussions about you and the boundaries they set for each other.
Well, the boundaries that Marc set.
The main and biggest one was that marks on your body were prohibited. He understood that all four were part of the relationship equally, but he also used something he liked to call "privileges of having met you first and being the main reason why everyone is together." Or something like that, he always changed the name for it, the thing is he couldn't help but be a jealous man, he hated that Jake and Steven would forget who you belonged to first.
The first one to break the rule was Steven, unconsciously. You didn't know anyone who was a bigger fan of make-out sessions than him, and when his kisses got deeper, more desperate, he had the habit of holding onto your hips as if you were about to run away at any moment, or as if he wanted to verify that you were real and that you were in his arms, devouring his mouth as if you depended on it to live.
That, combined with the fact that he had a terrible habit of forgetting that his muscles were stronger than he thought. You tried to be as discreet as possible when his fingers left marks on your skin, but with someone as touchy as Jake, it was impossible to keep secrets about your body.
He took it as a challenge, of course. If Steven could break the rules, why couldn't he?
The next day, you could be sure that he saw you as a blank canvas because your neck, your shoulders, and even your breasts were covered in bites and hickeys. You didn't remember him being so aggressive, but maybe pleasure had blinded you.
"What is this?" Marc held your chin, turning your face slightly, just enough to get a better view of your neck.
"It was Jake." You chuckled, still distracted by your phone as you let him guide you, without noticing how his jaw clenched, but feeling his fingers tighten on your jaw.
"Darling?"
Your eyes traveled to him.
"Mhm?"
"Will you come with me to the bedroom? We need to talk."
With a furrowed brow, you obeyed because the hand that held your chin ended up in one of your hands, pulling you as if he were a child wanting to show you something very important.
"Am I in trouble?" You joked as you watched him close the door behind you.
"Sit on the bed."
"Am I...?"
His brown eyes on you were enough for you to obey once again.
"Could you explain to me what the hell is this?" His hand in your hair made you turn your gaze away from the mirror you had in front, leaving the marks in plain sight.
You immediately understood who he was talking to.
Or whom.
"Oh, come on, hermano." Jake rolled his eyes in the mirror's reflection, his arms crossed over his chest. "Steven broke it first."
"False!" The mentioned objected after. It seemed like a competition of who could make Marc lose his patience first. "I would never do something like that."
"Check her hips if you don't believe me."
Raising an eyebrow, Marc released your hair.
"Stand up, sweetheart."
If there's one thing you've learned over time in this relationship, it's that it's not worth objecting when one or all three of them are arguing, especially when you don't even know what the problem is. You stood up slowly, wearing Steven's blue sweater that you slept in, which only covered half of your thighs.
He slowly lifted the edge of the fabric, his fingers brushing your thighs and causing a slight shiver. You could swear you heard him growl when he found the damn marks that fit perfectly with the size of his hands. Some of them were covered by your panties but they were pretty visible, already turning to a purple color.
“I-I didn't even notice those were there!”
“Why can Steven do it and I can't? That’s a damn injustice if you ask me.”
“Fortunately, Jake, I'm not asking you.” He rolled his eyes while you tried to imagine what the other two boys responded to him from the headspace. "On your knees."
The cold of the floor on your skin felt good and you had to look up to meet your boyfriend's chocolate gaze. You never had a problem following his orders.
“The problem here…” His fingers ran through your hair slowly, making you close your eyes for a few seconds. “They are forgetting who you belong to. Who do they think they are to mark my girl like this, huh?” He cooed, the gaze of the other two fixed on him.
Your hands went to the hem of his pants, and when he didn't object, you understood well what he wanted. A small smile spread across your lips as you freed him from his tight black jeans, as well as his underwear.
He wasn't completely hard yet until your tongue ran along his entire length from base to tip.
“I want you to show them who was your first, my love.” Your fingers, as if you were an expert, wrapped around his cock, giving it a squeeze before beginning a slow, up-and-down pace. “Who you think about every fucking time you cum.”
You couldn't see it, but in detail you imagined the way Jake was rolling his eyes.
“It's a punishment for all 3 of you, you understand, don't you, honey?” His eyes boring into you as you kissed all around his cock wetly. “What makes you believe you should allow yourself to be treated that way?”
You parted your lips, taking the head inside before starting to suck. That always gave him chills, the way you didn't rush.
“No-oh.” His fingers tangled in your hair, those soft caresses had stopped. One push of his hand and you had half of his erection inside your mouth. He groaned.
Although you enjoyed taking your time and savoring every inch of Marc, he seemed to be in a hurry, you thought that perhaps the clumsy and aggressive way in which he was directing your head movements was part of the supposed punishment.
Were you supposed to not enjoy that?
“Push deeper.” Jake's voice caught Marc's attention, who a few seconds ago had been distracted by the messy and sloppy way you were sucking him off. He could have sworn there was a point where the only sound in the room was your saliva every time he slid over your tongue.
Marc looked at the mirror with a frown.
“Push harder.” He repeated, looking up. “Steven always fucks her mouth until she cries, if you want to prove your point push harder. Right, Steven?"
The other boy received an elbow against his ribs that forced him to look up. It seems he was enchanted by watching the way your left cheek bulged against the pressure of the head of Marc's lenght against it.
Still distracted, he nodded quickly.
It was that what resulted in you suddenly feeling him push your head harder. The brush against your throat brought tears to your eyes and you heard your boyfriend grunt. He was never so rude.
You didn't complain, though.
You tried your best to relax the muscles in your throat around him, but you were so caught off guard that a couple of gags only did the opposite, feeling you squeeze him every few seconds until he guided your head back.
Saliva ran from your lips to your chin, some drops ending up on your neck. You broke the string of saliva that joined his cock to your mouth by licking your lips.
You sniffed, looking up before giving Marc a smile.
“Oh, you like that, don't you?” His fingers wrapped around himself so he could hit your tongue with his heavy member. You kept your tongue out, happy to receive it and hear the wet slapping. “Or does Steven do it better?”
Another movement of his hips was so abrupt that you felt your nose eventually collide with his lower abdomen, having to close your eyes as your tears ran down them. Still, you didn't give up, you didn't use your well-known "signal" to ask for some mercy.
Instead you moved your tongue slowly underneath, you only managed to graze his balls with the tip of it but it was enough to get a gasp from his throat. You held on for more seconds than you thought you were capable of before it was Marc himself who pushed you away.
It took you several seconds to even out your desperate breathing, you wiped your lips on the sleeve of Steven's sweater.
"Stand up." He ordered. His chest rising and falling rapidly. Jake's smirk on the other side of the mirror screamed at him that he knew. He knew Marc would finish stupidly quickly if he kept fucking your throat like that.
You swallowed hard before standing on shaky legs, the intense heat between your legs beginning to burn through your entire body, without receiving any kind of attention the only thing you could feel was the way your insides clenched around nothing.
"Turn around." Your cheeks took on a reddish color as you remembered the two pairs of eyes that were on you on the other side of the reflection. You slowly turned your back on him, your fingers gripping the wooden cabinet that held the huge mirror. “You better not close your eyes, I want you to look at them.”
Marc's hands took care of the job, pulling the hem of the sweater up to your waist and pulling your panties down to your ankles. You didn't need instructions to spread your legs and raise your ass for him.
He positioned himself behind your body, holding his cock for help. The tip separated your lips and you flinched when it brushed your swollen clit, it was just a couple of brushes as if he wanted to collect your juices on it in order to make penetration easier.
Although with you dripping and him full of your saliva, at this point it was just his pettiness and his desire to make you beg. You lifted your hips higher.
Marc looked down, his hand positioning itself exactly over Steven's finger marks and with a single movement you felt him slide inside you. Your legs trembled as you received him this deep and rough way, an action that you recognized as more typical of Jake.
“M-Marc, fuck, Marc.” You stammered as your body tried to get used to his size. No matter how many times you had done this, it was like your body insisted on giving him that death grip that drove him crazy.
"That's it." He caught her bottom lip between his teeth in a lousy attempt to silence her gasps. “Louder, baby, remind them who's fucking you.”
Somehow you felt like Jake and Steven's eyes burned into your skin. You couldn't look in the mirror, not while you were babbling Marc's name between moans, with that look that made it obvious how cockdrunk you were with just a couple of thrusts.
When Marc hit that sweet spot that made you vibrate from head to toe, your eyes closed automatically, your head falling downward.
"No." He growled, his hand rising to place it in your hair where he tangled his fingers. The sudden tug he gave to your locks made you snap your head up and let out a loud gasp, your eyes snapping open. "Look at them."
On the other side Jake was leaning slightly so he could be at your face level, analyzing every small expression of pleasure he saw in you. Your cheeks are flushed, your pupils are dilated, and your lips are red from biting them so much.
Steven was too lost in his own thoughts to object anything, the truth is that he was enjoying this new angle he had to see his cock splitting you and making you whimper more than he would like.
“Tell them how good I'm making you feel, honey.” He cooed, his fingers giving your hair a harder tug to force you to keep your head up. “Remind them who was the first to break that tight little pussy.”
You stifled a moan, making your bottom lip bleed with a bite.
“Tell them.” He growled, his fingers squeezing your hips so hard you feared your body was going to give up at any moment.
“I-It was you, Marc.” You whimpered in pleasure as his thrusts pushed your body forward, you were already on your tiptoes so as not to end up with your entire body against the furniture.
“Repeat it, I want them to listen to you.” His entire length remained still inside you, brushing against that spot that made you lose your mind. "Louder."
Your parted lips took in deep gasps of air and you had to swallow hard to recover your voice by moistening your throat a little.
“It’s you M-Marc.” He didn't give your hair a break, he was pulling with his fingers so hard that it was starting to hurt. “Fuck, Marc! A-Ah, fuck. It’s you, it’s you, only you.”
Bold of you to assume that Jake wouldn't have that in mind the next time he had his turn with you.
“Fuck her harder.” Marc looked at the mirror when the opposing voice caught his attention. “Come on, she can take it.” A mocking smile appeared on his lips, only irritating Marc even more.
Still, he obeyed.
You could hear the slapping between your bodies every time he thrusted into you. Your legs were threatening to stop supporting your body weight as they began to shake, your entire body feeling small spasms as you got closer and closer to the end.
“Marc?” Steven's soft voice caught the attention of the other two. His pupils were dilated and there was an adorable blush on hid cheeks. "Touch her."
Marc grunted when he realized that this wasn't the punishment he'd originally thought, but who was he to say no to Steven? The hand that was holding your hip slowly slid between your legs, separating your pussy lips with his fingers and then pressing his thumb against your sensitive clit.
He immediately felt your little hole tighten around him.
“Circles.”
“I know how to touch her, Steven.” He growled in your ear, only reminding you of the pair who were probably enjoying the show. The pleasure you were experiencing was too much to rescue the few grams of shame you might have somewhere on your body.
Your nails scratched the wood of the furniture in front of you.
“Cum all over me, honey.” He managed to whisper between moans. Two more thrusts of his body snatching the air from your lungs. “I bet they’ll like it.”
And that was enough for the wave of pleasure to make your body tingle from head to toe, your walls milking Marc until he followed you immediately after, filling you with his warm, thick liquid, which he pushed deeper inside you with a couple more strokes.
For a few seconds the only thing you heard along with the ringing in your ears was Marc's heavy breathing. After a moment his fingers gripped your hips, drawing your attention.
He gave you one more thrust and you squealed, sensitive, overstimulated.
“Marc.” You complained, looking up at the mirror in front of you once more as you tried to catch your breath.
On the other side, Jake's smile greeted you, almost playful.
“Let's see which name you can shout the loudest, princesa.”
As you all know I hate Will for no real reason, this is my peace offering to a fictional character, lol.
Word count. 2K
Summary. You love babying him.
Kinktober masterlist.
Pregnancy was becoming unbearable at times; you felt heavy, your feet ached even after just a few steps around the house, and sleeping at night was turning into a daily battle. Fortunately, there was no doubt in your mind that you had chosen the right life partner.
The only thing keeping you sane right now was Will and how he went out of his way to make you happy and make this whole thing more bearable.
You always joked with him, saying that anyway, all of this was his fault, so the least he could do for you was to fulfill your cravings and massage your shoulders until you fell asleep.
Oh, and that pillow with a hole in the center that allowed you to lie face down.
"I miss my pillow," you murmured in a low tone as you remembered it. You closed the door behind you slowly.
Will's room was just as he had left it several years ago when he left home for college, where he met you. Nonetheless, you wandered around with curiosity, looking at his movie posters that perhaps only he had seen, and the occasional Lego figure that you doubted he would let his future child touch someday.
"I told you we could come up with some excuse."
"Every time you suggest we make up an excuse, it has to do with pretending that one of us died," you rolled your eyes. "Your parents are not believing it for more than two times in a row." When you had 4 walls around you for privacy, your hands went to the hem of your shirt, getting rid of it, clearly tired of wearing any type of clothing.
Will watched you from the bed, as if you were giving him a personal show. His eyes roaming over your bare skin, always lingering a few extra seconds on your breasts before looking up again and pretending that the lack of sex wasn't killing him.
You were both too introverted to simply ask at gynecologist appointments, “Hey, is it wise to have uncontrolled sex against some furniture at this point in pregnancy?” so you just assumed the answer was no.
“Did you do something to your hair?”
You frowned at his question.
"What?"
“I'm serious, I notice something different about you.”
One of his pillows landed right in his face, making him laugh. You already knew that joke too well.
“Yes, idiot, I'm pregnant.” The mattress squeaked as you lay down, only wearing your loose pants and the sports bra that had become your best friend a few days ago because it turns out that your normal bras decided they didn't want to close anymore eventually.
That was the only piece of fabric that kept your tits in place, tight and comfortable. It was also a headache for Will.
The changes that pregnancy had made in your body never ceased to amaze him even though he had analyzed each one for hours as the months passed. There was the obvious, that completely new sparkle in your eyes, your cheeks flushed 24/7 and your skin seemed to be glowing more than ever.
But on the other hand there were the things that made him fantasize about the nights he stayed on the couch fucking his own hand to try to control the impulses that attacked him more times than he would like lately. Your hips became wider, your thighs were softer but oh, his favorite part was definitely your breasts.
Round, full, hard, delicious.
You were complaining about pain recently and he didn't know if that was a sign that he should help you in some way or just not touch you and wait patiently for the pain to go away in a few weeks when the baby was born.
“Did you know…” He murmured, taking his eyes off his phone for a few seconds to look at you. You did the same.
Lying together to chat or just watch stupid videos on your phones had become routine when the pain in your back kept you from sleeping or when you took too many naps throughout the day and all your energy was reserved for the night.
Yes, Will stayed up with you each and every one of those times.
"Did I know what?"
“Did you know that there are freaks who like milk?”
You frowned.
“I like milk, what's so strange about it?”
He rolled his eyes with a small smile.
“Breast milk, I mean.”
“Oh…” Needless to say, you already knew that the father of your future baby was… peculiar. He had perfectly mastered the act of bringing up the strangest topics of conversation lately. You shrugged. “It doesn't seem that strange to me.”
"No?" If your gaze hadn't returned to your phone you would have noticed the mischievous glint on his eyes.
You had taken the bait.
“No, I mean.” There you went, to reason with the madman, always engrossed in his midnight talks. “You used to suck on my boobs all the time, do you mean you wouldn't do it anymore if there was milk involved? Not to mention that you are addicted to eating me out, it wouldn't be the first time you drink some liquid from my body.”
“Mhm.” He pretended to consider your response before nodding slowly, agreeing with you. The truth is that Will had considered the possibility since he had noticed the circular stains that suddenly began to appear on your shirts. “You have a point.”
"See?" You felt triumphant to think that you had changed his way of thinking. Your gaze returned to your phone and you took the topic for granted.
“Though I don't understand how anyone could be sexually attracted to that.”
You looked up again.
“Are you kidding?”
“Of course not, don't you think it's strange?”
You rolled your eyes, finally lowering your phone and placing it on the cabinet next to you so you could face him.
"Do you want to try?"
"What?" He played dumb and you fell into his trap again.
"Do you want to try? I will show you that there is nothing strange about it.”
He again pretended to consider your proposal and with his lower lip trapped between his teeth he nodded slowly.
"Good." He also put his phone aside, sitting up in bed as if considering which position was best to settle into. His pupils dilated when he saw you take off your top.
He had been trying for a long time not to stare at your completely naked breasts or else we wasn't going to be able to control himself anymore. Your nipples were always hard, occasionally with a drop or two of milk running through them, so sensitive and delicious.
You looked at him, clearing your throat to get his attention.
"Take off your shirt." Your voice sounded like an order.
He obediently did so. His tanned skin making your mouth water and making your cheeks blush even more than usual. You were a hormonal mess a long time ago.
“How should I…?”
“Just lay your head here.” You pointed to the hill where your pregnant belly began, just below your breasts.
“But, I don't want to hurt-”
“You're not going to hurt me, Will.” Your voice came out in frustration as you gave two small taps to the area you had pointed out before. He hesitated a little before taking his place there, the weight of his head and part of his body was not uncomfortable, on the contrary, his body heat felt stupidly good.
Skin to skin contact was something you wouldn't trade for a million dollars.
“You look so pretty like this.” You whispered in a low, loving voice. A dopey smile on your face when you had the chance to see him from a completely new angle.
His huge eyes were fixed on you, he had to look up so he could fix his gaze on you while you looked down. Your fingers gently ran through his hair, a while ago you had noticed that his curls became more noticeable when his hair was a little longer than usual.
“Go on.” You cooed while he licked his lips.
You didn't have to ask twice, Will settled into his spot and took part of your breast into his mouth, pressing his tongue against your hard, sensitive nipple.
A shiver ran down your spine, resulting in a wave of pleasure directly between your legs. A delicious heat pooling on your lower abdomen.
He for his part moaned against your skin. You tasted so sweet.
“T-That's it.” You encouraged him with blushing cheeks. “Just like that, baby.”
It didn't take him long to pick up the pace he wanted, you could hear him gulp and suck, over and over again while your trembling hands ran through his hair slowly, comforting him.
You knew how much he was enjoying it when you saw him close his eyes. A couple of drops running down the edge of his lips.
“You taste so fucking good.” It was the only thing he stammered before going back to his job. He rested the weight of his body on you a little more and you didn't complain, you missed having him on you so much, caging you against any surface that he found and his body.
He raised a hand, his fingers squeezing your breast as if he wanted to squeeze out every last drop. His cock twitched under his baggy pants and you at the same time squeezed your legs together, your slick already making your underwear wet and sticky.
“Do you like it, baby?” Your voice was breathy.
It was incredible how your bodies began to react as if you were a pair of desperate teenagers, seeking relief in any friction you might have with each other.
“Help me with t-the other one, yeah? Please?" You begged when you could finally feel some kind of relief on your tit, it was no longer hard and swollen. All this time you had only needed this? If you had known before.
He looked up with dilated pupils, licking his lips with heavy breathing.
"Please." You whispered once more, your fingers giving his hair a light tug that snapped him out of the spell you seemed to have placed on him with just a few gulps of warm milk.
You gave him a push with your hand and he obeyed, tracing exactly four circles around your right nipple before leaning down again and taking it into his mouth. Now that he was almost face down to reach the other side his hips began a slow rocking motion against the bed.
You, meanwhile, squeezed your legs together, your soft thighs giving you a bit of relief that made you whimper.
“Such a good boy.” You closed your eyes, your chest rising and falling rapidly, finding it impossible to calm the rhythm of your breathing. Eventually you understood that it wasn't just the sensitivity of your body, it was the situation.
Your sweet voice praising him, listening to the way he swallowed and the way he whimpered desperately just from the pleasure that sucking on your tit gave him.
You were no longer hiding the clumsy movements of your hips, nor was he the way he pretended to be fucking the mattress. His sensitive cock throbing every time he rubbed against his favorite blanket.
The friction was giving delicious warmth to his needy erection and your milk was doing the same to his entire body. Warm and delicious running through his throat.
Your thrusts were making the mattress creak under your bodies although you didn't last more than a couple of seconds longer. Abstinence was your best excuse to explain why something like this had led you to have one of the most delicious orgasms of your entire relationship.
It was definitely not what you had done per se, right?
When he pushed himself up so he could kiss you you could taste the milk and his saliva combined. You understood well why the taste had driven him crazy.
“See?” You whispered against his lips. “Not weird at all.”
I just wanted to thank you all for all the interactions, wtfdym +800 on my first kinktober day??? YOU ALL ATEEE!!
Hopefully tomorrow I'll be able to answer all of your comments, deciding to be part of kinktober on my first week of exams definitely wasn't one my most inteligent ideas lol but i've been having fun even tho i'm fucking tired!!
I love you all, I really do, I'm really insecure about my writing in general but in terms of erotic stuff i feel like i really suck so lol this has been a great incentive
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Tags & warnings. Almost getting caught + cheating. (+18)
Word count. 2k
Summary. But he was so stressed, what were you supposed to do?
Kinktober masterlist.
The title you'd give yourself in Abel's life was complicated.
His friend, maybe? You had grown up in the same neighborhood; during college, you crossed paths and greeted each other as if you'd been best friends for life.
His co-worker? Well, it was that same friendship that led him to do you a personal favor by giving you a job a few years later, without even asking how much experience you had in the field.
His lover? Perhaps that would be the most appropriate, as it was your shared history that had led you down this irreversible path.
It wasn't fair to any of the three of you, but you were so in love.
The business hadn't been doing well lately; robberies and the city's corruption were slowly consuming it, and for a while, you didn't know how to console him each time you saw him suppress his urge to go crazy in order to stay on what he called "the right path."
Abel's morals were questionable in bed, but in his work, no one doubted him.
"You know I can lend you money if you need it, right?" His living room was incredibly uncomfortable, but at least his wife bought good wine. You drank from your glass, staining it with lipstick once more.
"I told you I don't need it, amor." He sighed heavily as his hands massaged one of your feet. It tickled.
The truth was, over time, both of you had become more brazen about your affair. You could assure with your eyes closed that Anna knew very well what was going on. You could feel it when you greeted her, and she squeezed her fingers around your hand as if she wanted to break it.
"This is too much for you." You said softly, finishing your wine in one gulp as your other foot rubbed against his thigh.
He didn't say anything. You weren't exaggerating; he felt tired. The kind of exhaustion that wouldn't go away even if he slept for two months straight.
You forced him to release your ankle so you could stand up, and he groaned in response, making you laugh. You placed your empty glass on the coffee table in front of the couch and knelt delicately in front of him on that lovely carpet his wife had surely chosen.
He spread his legs wider and leaned enough to face you, him looking down, you looking up.
His features were beautiful from any angle. You couldn't resist your urge to smile at him as he placed one of his hands on your neck, his thumb slowly caressing your jawline.
"I'll help you with whatever you need," your voice was soft, sultry. You gently held his wrist, guiding his hand across your face until his thumb left your jaw and began tracing your lower lip. "Always."
You couldn't say anything more before his thumb slipped between your lips, and you welcomed it cheerfully. You let him explore your tongue before sucking on it a bit; had you known that's what he needed to feel better, you would have dropped to your knees as soon as you got to his home.
"You are going to be the death of me," he whispered, not taking his eyes off the vulgar and dirty way your mouth played with his thumb. "You know it, don't you, preciosa?"
You nodded slowly with the threat of a smile. It wasn't until he pulled his finger out of your mouth with a small pop and a strand of your saliva connected to your lips that he could see you smile.
Abel could swear that your eyes sparkled in a special way when you were with him, and he always wondered if that was one of the many reasons he couldn't stay away from you.
"I'll take care of it," you said, placing a hand on his chest to give him a very gentle push, just a way to ask him to lean back on the sofa; he did. "It's been tough days, hasn't it, baby?" You pouted slightly as your fingers loosened his tie.
A smile formed on his lips; you knew exactly how to play your cards when it came to him. He nodded.
"Always working so hard." Your hands slid slowly over his abdomen, the fabric of his shirt outlining the muscles beneath. Did you ever tell him that his morning runs were doing their job? You continued your path until you reached the waistband of his pants. "Without ever getting a reward." A tug, and the button of his expensive pants was on the floor.
Abel had his lower lip between his teeth as he watched you, a rebellious curl falling on his forehead that he brushed away with one hand.
"Tú eres mi recompensa."
You wished his words didn't stir your heart the way they did, you wished he gave you a reason to end this once and for all, but it was impossible not to love Abel Morales. In fact, "impossible" fell short.
He helped you by lifting his hips so you could lower his clothes to the middle of his thighs. His erection was released instantly, it wasn't a surprise that it was already hard enough for it to hit his abdomen as if begging for you attention.
“Such a sweet talker, huh?” You spit into your hand so you could take it in it. He groaned almost immediately. Your fingers couldn't go around him completely but he had told you a thousand times that he loved how delicate they were.
At this point, you were already aware of the things that drove him crazy, you confirmed it when you gave him a light squeeze and he grunted again, before setting a slow pace up and down.
"Stop playing around, hermosa." It sounded like an order but the way he licked his lips and the air got caught in his throat seemed anything but intimidating.
He hissed as your thumb traced the head of his member, smearing his precum on it.
“But you love it when I do this.” You pouted a little, putting more pressure on your fingers, holding them still at the top of his length.
He knew well what to do. His hips began to move slowly, pretending to fuck your hand.
You could see how it slid into the poor excuse of a hole that you were simulating with your fingers. It would be a lie to say that you couldn't look at it for hours, the way the tip turned red announcing that it was more sensitive now and the way it suffered little spasms of pleasure every now and then.
“Hermosa, por favor.” His huge brown eyes fixed on you, desperate. "Por favor."
He was so pretty when he pleaded. It made you feel a strange kind of power, like he was completely yours.
Very often you questioned if he also begged Anna that way.
You repeated the path of your thumb with your tongue, tracing small circles around the head, collecting in it the small pearls of pre-cum that a long time ago seemed to not stop coming out.
Abel's body was begging for a way to de-stress and you were doing the job perfectly.
You placed small wet kisses on the area before finally settling on your knees at a more comfortable angle, you closed your lips so you could use the tip of his cock to force them open.
He moaned, loudly.
"Mierda." He babbled with his eyes closed, his back comfortably leaning against the couch as you worked between his legs. “That's it, preciosa, just like that.”
You were halfway there when you took a deep breath through your nose. It was funny to remember how it choked you the first few times, how you had to hide your gagging or immediately wipe the tears from your eyes because it was too much for you.
His fingers tangled in your hair and he pushed you down, making you take him whole. Fortunately, you already had experience. You pretended to swallow, knowing full well that your throat muscles would contract around him.
"No, no, no." He growled. He didn't want to finish quickly and you were pushing him to the limit. He had his eyes closed as he held you down, practically cockwarming him by obeying his requests and not moving.
The tip of your nose was pressing against his lower abdomen, and you only held out a little longer before you gave him a couple of smacks on his thigh to get him to let you go.
The sight of your face always seemed to be almost enough to make him finish. The saliva pooling in your mouth ran down the side of your it, a trickle of it connected to his member before you broke it apart by licking your lips.
"Vas a matarme." He repeated almost sounding desperate as you licked, kissed and sucked one of his balls to your liking,
You also hit your tongue with it. Anything to prolong his pleasure.
You slid your tongue from the base to the tip before taking him back into your mouth in one motion. Your eyes were watering as his hands forced you to stay down for a longer period of time.
The main gate that led to the house opened. The sound of metal alerting you both.
You were about to get up but his fingers wouldn't let you and you understood what he wanted.
You didn't waste time and you started to bob your head up and down swallowing him whole each time. You didn't care about the way the tears ran down your cheeks from the strain of your throat.
He thrust his hips at the perfect rhythm, when you went down he went up and when he went down you went up, he was fucking your mouth without mercy even when the lights of the blonde's car illuminated the living room, waiting for the garage door to finish opening.
“We can’t make a, a-ah, carajo, mess.” He babbled quietly, barely enough for you to hear. “Swallow it all, preciosa.”
The muscles of your throat once again gave him that death grip that drove him crazy, making him cum. His warm spend was swallowed by you instantly since you had no choice, it was being shot straight down your throat.
You stayed still as his erection stopped twitching inside your mouth, constantly taking in air through your nose. You didn't have time for anything, you could swear it was the blink of an eye as he pushed himself out of your mouth and helped you to your feet.
He closed his pants only with the zipper and you adjusted your clothes still licking your lips.
“Hey, what are we celebrating?” Anna said when the door finally opened, her gaze on both of you with that fake smile that you already recognized perfectly.
You slowly turned to face her, wiping the edge of your mouth with your thumb. You smiled back.
Abel couldn't hide his after sex glow even if he ripped his face off with his fingers. That dopey smile, his cheeks flushed with messy hair.
“I thought you would be at your mother's house until tomorrow.”
"Well." The blonde dropped her keys on the nearest piece of furniture, her gaze never leaving you. "Clearly that's what you thought, Abel."
“We were just chatting.” He answered for you as you picked your heels off the floor, trying not to be part of the chatter going on next to you. “They hijacked another of our trucks.”
You had to swallow your smile when the excuse of work became an excellent distraction for your nights together. You bit your bottom lip before nodding your head.
“Well I…” You took a few steps along the carpet, surrounding them both as if you wanted to avoid them, with your shoes in your hand. “I… I'll see you Monday at work.” You tried to smile as your hand awkwardly opened the door. “Good night, Anna.”
You disappeared from both of their gazes in a matter of seconds. Both pairs of eyes on you.
Tags & warnings. Breeding + degrading + age gap. (Early 20's + late 30's) (+18)
Important writers note. Since Suburbicon is set in 1959 you can guess it right, this is kinda misogynistic lol, there's a bit of dub-con with the breeding part.
Word count. 2k.
Summary. Bud is dying to make you a mommy.
Kinktober masterlist.
Bud was sweet, well, most of the time. You just weren't used to accepting the idea that sometimes he seemed to be obsessed with you.
Flowers, cards, expensive gifts. Having a boyfriend with a job was more fun than you thought, but at the same time, you had to deal with the burden of an older man with completely different aspirations from yours.
You loved him, and he undoubtedly loved you, but did you love him enough to set aside your life plans?
Attending college was a huge privilege, the idea of getting a job, your own apartment. You never saw yourself as a housewife, although you didn't judge those who made that choice; many of your girl friends were living a dream life that way.
And you weren't a fan of kids.
Oh, and weddings were too expensive to even consider.
Needless to say, it was the opposite of what Bud wanted for you. Well, for him. Or should you say, for the both of you, maybe?
"How was work?" Your arms wrapped around his neck as you kissed his lips. As usual, the only thing between you two was a bouquet of flowers. Beautiful sunflowers that matched the aesthetics of your room perfectly.
"They're considering me for a promotion." The tip of his nose rubbed against yours, making you laugh. "You should think about... you know, what we've talked about."
You pursed your lips, shaking your head afterward.
"No." You had lost count of how many times you had to repeat this. "I've already told you, love. No marriage, no engagement, no living together, and no kids until I finish college." You knew the dialogue by heart, and he probably did too.
He groaned, a little pout appearing on his lips.
"People talk," he whispered before kissing your lips again. Ah, you knew that by heart as well; it wasn't very difficult for him to distract you from the main topic.
Ever heard the popular saying "Small town, big hell"? Turns out, for the whole neighborhood, your relationship was more than scandalous. Bud already had a reputation due to his recent divorce, and you had managed to make it even worse with what everyone considered "progressive" ideas for the 50s.
You weren't married, everyone knew that, and you weren't in the process of getting married because every time you attended a boring neighborhood party, they always checked your hands and your partner's hands as a way to confirm that there was no ring yet. But still, you never hid the liberties of your relationship.
You spent whole nights at his apartment, the old lady from the house around the corner always spied on you when you left in the early hours or even in the mornings, with disheveled clothes, messy hair, and smeared lipstick all over your mouth.
The public displays of affection were on your part, although it was difficult for him to give in a little, he later understood that you did not have to be a prude in front of people, in fact, he started to enjoy the way in which people stopped to look. how you devoured his mouth against his car and how it brought moans from your throat because of the way his big hands squeezed your waist as if you were going to get away from him.
He loved your cherry flavored lip gloss and letting everyone know you were his.
"They've always talked." You lowered the bouquet of flowers, placing them on the dining table as his hands traveled the same path over and over, from your hips to your waist. "You know it's not what I want."
He sighed but gave you the same defeated smile as always.
"I know." He took just two steps closer until your body was against the table. "I've got the migraine of the century."
You chuckled. You already knew what that meant.
"And how could I solve that?"
With little effort, he sat you on the edge of the table, and your hands traveled down his chest, brushing his abdomen until they reached the edge of his pants. You tugged at the fabric until his hips were comfortably positioned between your legs.
“You know well what I want.” It was the last thing he whispered before his mouth was on yours, kissing you wetly and desperately.
It was no different than other times, you would never have guessed that Bud had a mission for that night.
While he was nibbling on your lower lip your hands quickly unbuttoned his shirt, you were never going to get tired of admiring his body, muscles and tanned skin were the perfect combination, although this time he was so focused on your mouth that you couldn't move away to do it this time.
His fingers slowly lifted the hem of your mini skirt, the one that made older women look at you with disdain in the streets, the one that he loved so much. Bud only pulled away from your lips when he wanted to, looking down as his thumb brushed the center of your panties.
"Look at that." He whispered, applying more pressure with his thumb. “You're wet from just a couple of kisses."
You nibbled on your already swollen and red bottom lip, your eyes not leaving him for a single second.
“You are such a whore, you know that, sweetheart?” You whimpered as his thumb began to trace small circles over your still covered clit.
You felt how your little pussy throbbed around nothing. 'Whore' was a word that you knew was constantly floating around town to refer to you, it was fucking hot when your boyfriend used it before fucking your brains out.
You nodded slowly and bit back the urge to smile.
“So desperate.” You felt him teasing your hole with his middle finger, wetting your underwear even more as he pressed the fabric against the exact spot your slick ran from.
You sighed and your hands rested on the table for some support while you held your legs open for him. His gaze was still fixed on his hands against your puffy little pussy lips, marking the line between them with his fingers.
“People talk.” He repeated what he had said minutes before. “They talk about what a whore you are for letting yourself be fucked without being married to me.” You thrust your hips forward in desperation when his hand finally slipped under your underwear. You needed him.
“I know y-you love it.” You whispered with a breathy voice. “Letting everyone know I'm nothing but your slut.”
That was enough for him, you knew how to drive him crazy with a flutter of your eyelashes, even more so with a couple of words. He stopped touching you, and you were about to complain until you saw him unbuttoning his pants to give you what you really wanted.
It was your hand that delicately helped him position his cock between your legs. The head pressing against your hole after only pushing your underwear aside.
"This is what you want?" No matter how much he pressed he just didn't thrust into you, a few nights ago you had realized how much he liked to push you to your limit.
“Bud, p-please.”
"Sorry?" You saw the corner of his mouth twitch with the threat of a smile.
"Please please." You whispered, your pleading eyes boring into him.
"Please what?"
“Please fuck me, please, please.” You pushed your hip further to the edge of the table, not even with the pressure of your body you could make him continue. "I need it."
“Yeah? You do?” He cooed, a mocking pout on his face.
“I beg you.” You whimpered, your high pitched voice getting more demanding.
He clicked his tongue and in one thrust he buried himself in you, fulfilling your pleas in one expert movement.
“It doesn't matter h-how many…” He stammered as his fingers dug into your thighs. “How many damn times do I try to stretch you out.” He started with a slow rhythm, strong and deep, enough to use his own hands as a method to keep your body from sliding back on the table. “You are still so fucking thight, baby.”
Your hands traveled to your breasts, squeezing them over the fabric of your sweater, giving him a bit of a show before taking it off.
Ah yes, the fact that you didn't wear a bra was also something that attracted glances on the streets.
“Look at you, pretty girl.” He leaned enough so that he could bury his face between your breasts, licking his lips before beginning to place wet kisses on your soft skin. “Fuck, I want to marry you.”
His voice almost sounded pleading as your fingers ruffled his hair and pushed him even closer to you. He took one of your nipples in his mouth, sucking on it as his hips slammed into you again and again in a desperate rhythm.
“Please, please.” He whispered against your skin. “Please, marry me.” You were too cock drunk to think or speak clearly, you just nodded even though he couldn't see you.
It didn't take long for Bud to find that spot inside you, you moaned as loudly as you wanted, your back arching as if your body was begging to be as attached as it could be to his.
“Be my wife, baby.” You recognized well the way his voice broke, he was close.
He rested his chin on your chest and looked up. His eyes looked bigger from that position, it was stupidly adorable.
“P-Pull out.” You whispered between whimpers, your forehead resting against his.
Who were you trying to fool? You both loved each other so much it hurt.
He didn't obey you, his movements became more abrupt and you heard the table creak under your body along with the slap of your skin against his.
He was fucking you merciless.
“B-Bud.” You patted his cheek, trying to get his attention. “A-Ah, shit. P-Pull out.”
He dragged his hand up your thigh slowly until he reached between your legs, he pressed his thumb against your swollen clit making you see stars.
“Bud!” You exclaimed loudly, your entire body trembling with pleasure. “Yes, y-yes, God, yes.”
“You are going to be such a pretty mommy.” His nose brushed against yours as he straightened his back, seeking to be at your height.
You wanted to refuse, you really wanted to tell him to stop but your body was at his mercy, begging for more.
Praying he wouldn't get out of you.
“You want me to pull out, sweetheart?” He took your bottom lip between his teeth, nibbling on it and giving it a little tug before releasing it. “Tell me, do you want me to?”
Only moans came out of your mouth, shouting Bud's name and the word 'more' over and over again.
"I thought so." A delicate kiss on your lips. And another, and another, and another, and another. “You want my baby, don't you?”
You weren't thinking, you really weren't when you nodded.
A smile appeared on his face, accompanying his flushed cheeks and bright eyes.
It only took two more thrusts for you both to reach the limit, for the first time you felt the pleasure of being filled to the brim by him as your walls squeezed every last drop out of him. The warm liquid running down your thighs as your insides couldn't take any more.
“You are such an…” One more thrust silenced you, the way he pushed his spend deeper inside you. “Idiot.” You whispered, closing your eyes at the sensitivity of your body.
“You should start thinking about names.” His teasing smile made you want to punch him, but the soft, slow movement of his hips made you want to ask for more. “What do you say, love?” He pretended to pay attention to your babbling. “Yes, I think so too.”
I removed two characters out of the list but I need your help to decide what I'm going to do with day 9 and day 30
i shooould
exchange them for new characters
repeat characters from the list in different scenarios/kinks
leave the list as it is now (outcome 3 - morning sex / marcus - gagging)
Voting ended onOct 4, 2023
the options for new characters would be: evgeni, anselm (please don't make me write him), jack from mojave (please don't make me watch that movie again), standard, reeves
Summary. You hate your brother's best friend. Yeah, the one you are hooking up with.
Kinktober masterlist.
Jake Lockley was an idiot.
The biggest idiot you'd ever met.
He was an idiot when he yelled and clapped in your house as if it were his own because his favorite soccer team had scored a goal, he was an idiot when he put his foot in front of you as you walked pass by him as if he were going to make you trip, and he was idiot when he opened your fridge like he was part of the family.
He was an idiot when he slipped out of your brother's sight to bury his stupid fingers inside of you until you trembled, he was an idiot when he walked behind you groping against your ass on purpose, he was an idiot when he pushed you against the wall to devour your lips like a hungry man and he was definitely an idiot when he wished you goodnight with his beautiful smile before leaving.
But he was a bigger and dumber idiot when he pretended that all of this wasn't happening, and that for him, you were just his best friend's silly little sister.
You had heard him the night before, claiming that he had a date with someone 'hot' (his own words), one of those stunning blondes you see on TV according to your brother, so after understanding the message clearly, you decided that you wanted nothing to do with Jake Lockley anymore.
Although you had said that the last four times.
You were all furrowed brows and pouts without even realizing it. The third time he smiled at you, and all you could muster was a roll of your eyes, he started to worry.
He never liked making you mad. Or at least, not this seriously, because he definitely enjoyed pushing your buttons until you pushed him and your voice got all squeaky when you said, 'Enough, Jake!'
But ignoring him? That was a level he never wanted to reach.
When your brother left the apartment with the excuse of getting pizza for the three of you, he knew it was time to try.
He was sitting on the couch, his legs slightly apart, his back against the backrest, with one of his arms raised over it. It was a good view, but you were stronger than this. You glanced at him for about three seconds as you walked to the kitchen, in a way that seemed so quick that it almost appeared accidental.
"¿Princesa?" He questioned out loud, and you nearly dropped your glass.
Stupid, stupid Jake Lockley.
You didn't respond.
"Hermosa." he cooed again. The only response he got was the sound of ice clinking against the glass.
You took a sip, trying to ignore the fluttering in your stomach.
"You know if you don't come, I'm going to come get you, right?" Oh yes, you forgot how irritating he could be when he set his mind to it.
You planted your feet in place.
"I'm going to count to three." Oh no. "Uno."
You looked towards the door. You weren't a little kid; these things didn't work on you.
"Dos."
Besides, Jake wasn't your boss to order you around like this.
"Uno y medio."
You set your glass down and, as if your legs were on autopilot, you spun on your heel and walked out of the kitchen, earning an immediate smile from him.
Not a mocking one, not an annoying one, he actually seemed relieved to have a bit of your attention.
"Ah, there you are."
You stood still without saying anything, unsure of what to do.
"Come here." He patted his lap as an invitation.
You bit the inside of your cheek, pondering for a few seconds if it was worth it to lose your dignity like this. You also glanced towards the door, trying to calculate how much time you had before your brother arrived.
In the end, as always, you obeyed. You went over to him and sat sideways on one of his legs.
"No-oh," he shook his head, looking at you from his position, not touching you yet. "Face me." You had to get up again to turn around, his leg nestled between yours as you took your seat again, facing him.
Even if you didn't want to notice it, it was impossible not to feel that delicious pressure against your cunt. And as if by magic Jake brought both hands to your hips, pressing them with his fingers as if you were going to escape his grip.
"What's wrong, huh?" He leaned in just a little to meet your gaze. You hated that there wasn't a hint of teasing in his expression; he genuinely seemed concerned as you crossed your arms and furrowed your brow.
Why were guys so dense? And stupid.
When you didn't respond, a small smile crept onto his face. He made you jump slightly on his thigh as he moved his leg, and a little gasp escaped you. His hands slowly traveled from your hips to your waist.
"You’ve been all grumpy and stuff since I got here, what’s wrong?"
"You should ask your supermodel date."
Ah, bingo. His smile widened.
"She's not a model."
"I don't care what she is."
"Actually, she is..."
"I don't want to talk about her."
"She's imaginary."
You looked back at him with a furrowed brow after a few seconds. Did he expect you to believe that?
"Ah?"
"She doesn't exist."
"I know what imaginary means."
"Are you sure? I can spell it out for you if you want."
"You're an idiot."
"And you're jealous." His fingers resumed tracing your sides, deciding that your hips would indeed be their resting place. "And you're acting like a brat."
Your expression softened just a bit, but you still wouldn't look at him.
"Look at me while I'm talking to you." His voice was barely a whisper as he leaned in just slightly to seek your gaze.
Nothing made you want to scream until you collapsed a lung more than how stupidly handsome Jake Lockley was. His lips seemed like an eternal invitation to kiss him until you got tired, his chocolate eyes that seemed to dilate when they settled on you, and that one stubborn curl he always fought with, the one that fell onto his forehead for you to move out of the way.
You had joked before, asking him if he wasn't secretly Clark Kent.
Your body responded automatically, leaning in to seek his lips, but he pulled back with a smile.
"Do you think you deserve it after the way you treated me?" His voice was sultry, smooth.
"You're the one talking about other girls." You whispered back with a cute pout on your lips. "Please."
"Please that?"
“Please let me kiss you.”
“Nope.”
Your pout grew bigger as his fingers gave you a squeeze. You didn't understand where he was going until he started guiding your movements, a slow back-and-forth sway that brought a gasp from your throat.
He wasn't going to tell you out loud that he wasn't going to agree to a make out session that threatened to leave him with a boner when your brother arrived.
“I don't like it when you ignore me, princesa.” This time it was him who granted you a pout, his leg lifting a little higher as if he wanted to bury it between yours.
The pressure was stronger and you felt how your juices were beginning to moisten the fabric of his jeans. Your hands were placed over his on your hips and you rested your feet on the floor to have better control over your movements.
Back and forth, slowly.
"Sorry." You whispered breathlessly, your eyes boring into his as he enjoyed the blush on your cheeks.
Jake knew how to play, but you were always a good opponent.
You closed your eyes while biting your bottom lip as you pretended to ride his leg. He could only imagine how delicious it would be to just take you there on the couch.
With your hands on his, you slowly guided them up your body, rising them to your breasts.
You made him squeeze your tits and a louder moan came out of your throat.
“Fuck.” You whispered as the pace of your hips increased. The friction of the fabric of your panties against Jake's pants created a delicious heat in your already sensitive little pussy.
You knew without looking that your skin would already be red.
“That's how you like it, princesa?” He whispered, his gaze fixed on you as if you were a work of art.
Your lips were parted for mostly, except for when you bit the bottom one from time to time to allow yourself to hiss, your cheeks flushed and your eyes closed, brows slightly furrowed now for a completely different reason than a few minutes ago.
“Look at you, so wet and desperate for me.” His thumbs delicately traced your nipples over the fabric of your dress, they were now noticeable because of how hard he had made them. “You miss me fucking you with my fingers, don't you, mi amor? That’s why you’ve been acting like such a bitch to me.”
Stupid Jake Lockley with his stupid voice with his stupid accent and his stupid way of making you go crazy.
You nodded submissively, your body leaning forward until you could rest your forehead against his. Being able to look at your begging eyes closer was something he would thank you for later.
“W-Why…” You stammered, taking a deep breath. “Did you invent a girlfriend?”
He chuckled. You couldn't leave the subject alone, could you?
“Because everyone is asking questions about it.” He kissed your lips briefly, almost making you beg for more. “For my parents, I am now single forever.”
This time you laughed. The rhythm of your pace didn't stop and you were both so close to one another that Jake felt the touch of your tongue when you licked your lips.
“That can be solv… A-Ah, Jake. Mhm, s-shit.”
Your little hole started to clench around nothing, you were so close you could feel your entire body tense, Jake's hands working on your boobs in the way he knew you liked.
He was so obsessed with pleasing you that you hadn't even gone to the next level, he had promised himself to do it until he perfectly memorized the things that drove your body crazy.
“Are you close, princesa?” He was staring at you, he was craving watching you cum. “Are you going to give it to me?”
You nodded awkwardly, the couch squeaking with the clumsy and desperate way you moved. Your skin was beginning to tingle, a growing heat pooling on the bottom of your abdomen, you were about to make a mess on Jake's leg.
Until of course, a pair of keys clanged against the door.
He pushed you, you stood up as quickly as you could, pulling the hem of your dress to accommodate it, still dizzy from the pleasure and how abruptly it stopped. Your vision was blurry and your chest rose and fell rapidly trying to stabilize your breathing.
"Pizza." Was the only thing your brother said as he dropped his keys to the side, lifting the two boxes in his hand.
Jake covered the wet spot on his pants by placing a pillow on his lap.
“Is she bothering you, Lockley?” He joked, giving you a push that almost sent you to the ground. Not exactly because of the force, but because you were still with your legs nailed to the ground, pressing your thighs together to seek some relief.
“Not at all, she's the one who has to deal with me.” He muttered with that same darn smile on his face.
When your brother walked into the kitchen and the two of you were alone, even if it was just for a few seconds, he looked at you and you looked back at him.
“I'll go to your room in a few hours.” He whispered, nibbling on his bottom lip with what you could identify as eagerness.
You nodded, turning on your own two feet to head to the kitchen as well, biting your bottom lip too, trying to hide your smile.
Tag list. @ninebluehearts @shousha133 @unear7hly @onefinnedwonder-fm @automnepoet
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Summary. The only space in the car is on your best friend's lap.
Kinktober masterlist.
Dragging Marc out of his apartment was undoubtedly always an odyssey for anyone who tried it. Fortunately, you had a little something hidden in your pocket called 'the best friend privilege' that always resulted in him fulfilling your whims.
That, and the slight feeling of jealousy that invaded him when you spent time with friends who weren't him.
It was a good day for both of you, after all, no matter how big the group of people you went out with was, it was as if you were always in your little world, just him and you. Chatting alone, walking behind the others, and always taking a few minutes to take photos at your request.
In the end, the rest of your acquaintances had already gotten used to it, and as distant as you might seem, they still loved and included you two. So it was no surprise to either of you that after lunch, the arcade, and the movies, they were relentlessly urged to take you back to one of your apartments.
"There's no way we'll all fit in your car." Six people in a car meant for five. You leaned a little after saying it, your eyes calculating the space in the back seat.
"Sit on Marc." The owner of the car shrugged as he jingled the keys in his hand, waiting for a response. It was a lost battle; both he, Marc, you, and the other ones knew that there was no way out other than simply accepting the offer.
"I'm not sure how safe that is." You hummed, pursing your lips before turning to Marc. "What do you think?"
He shrugged too.
"It's a short ride from here to my apartment."
You sighed; if he was convinced, it meant you were being the difficult one.
In a matter of minutes, everyone was squeezed into the car, you on top of Marc, the others having to shrink their bodies to avoid invading each other's space.
"Sit properly," he murmured, irritated by the way you were sitting almost on his knees to avoid bothering him. Because yes, both of you were basically inseparable, but Marc was a bit of a cat when it came to his relationships – sometimes he wanted physical contact, sometimes he wanted to push you into another room so that he could have some space.
He slid an arm around your waist and pulled your body until your back was leaning against his chest. Of course he didn't think through his actions and the consequences they could bring, or at least that's what he realized when the car passed its first stop and he felt you jump on his lap.
He gasped, low enough that you wouldn't hear it.
“Did you have a good time today?” You whispered as your fingers softly caressed his forearm until you reached the only bracelet Marc wore on his wrist. A gift from you.
He only could hope that you wouldn't see how the hairs on his arm stood up at how delicate your fingers were, causing chills to run down his entire spine.
“Mhm.” It was hard to concentrate with your ass pressed against him like that.
The music in the car wasn't loud enough to be annoying, but it was loud enough to cover your conversation as well as any curses that left Marc's lips. Next to him, one of his friends was dozing, the other was scrolling on her phone lazily.
Marc pretended to settle into place and mentally prayed that you wouldn't feel something between his legs starting to wake up, right against the inside of your thighs.
Was it necessary for you to wear that sundress specifically today?
Another small bump in the road and it was enough for Marc's cock to completely harden while you looked out the window and continued making those imaginary drawings on his arm. Of course you felt it, but there wasn't much you could do about it, especially with the way he held you to his body with his arm.
“Fuck.” He muttered, breathless as you shifted in your spot, returning to sit on his hip after the movement of the road caused you to slide down a few inches.
You could feel his hardness pressing between your legs, at one point the clothes being the only thing stopping him from fucking you mercilessly until your legs wouldn't work. His arm tightened around you and you swore the air was escaping your lungs, not knowing exactly if it was because of the way he was crushing you against him or because you could already feel your underwear becoming damp, a heat that you recognized perfectly in your lower abdomen and between your legs.
He pushed your entire body down with his arm, seeking to satisfy himself with that same friction that the pressure of your body gave him, until, of course, that was no longer enough. He pushed his hips up, a discreet movement, somehow, but you could feel it perfectly.
The fact that you weren't facing him gave you the chance to bite your lower lip and silence any noise that Marc tried to snatch from your throat with his actions.
The second push was less discreet, more desperate. He buried himself between your legs as if he wanted to tear both of your clothes and dig into you once and for all.
“Are they ever going to fix these damn streets?” The boy mumbled from the driver's seat. Small cement bumps provoked the car to make an almost vibrating movement for just a few seconds.
Marc almost fainted.
You knew it was too much for him when his forehead rested against your shoulder, his curls tickling your cheek and making you smile with how agitated you both were. You raised the hand that was on his arm to stroke his hair, pushing a few strands away from his forehead.
That would be the perfect position for both of you, or at least that's what he thought. Plunging into you to the hilt, your walls milking him as he listened to you moan his name loudly, with you pulling his hair and moving your hips to your liking, maybe he'd even let you keep that beautiful dress on, just lifting it up and moving your panties just a little to the side.
But for now, he'd have to settle for this. For the playful way you pulled at his curls as if it would bother him.
On the contrary, he almost made his lip bleed by having to silence the groan that was stuck in his throat. At this point your juices were wetting his pants and that was what gave him the clue that maybe this wasn't bothering you much.
Or nothing at all, he himself could feel you putting pressure on his erection as you pushed your ass down. As well as the way you spread your legs almost imperceptibly to let him settle between your thighs.
“You are going to make me cum on my fucking pants.” He whispered right in your ear, and you swallowed hard.
His left hand, which was between the car door and your body, slid under your dress, where he squeezed your thigh, his nails digging into your skin. You looked to the opposite side to verify that neither of the two guys had their attention on you and without looking away you moved your hips slowly.
Back and forth.
Back and forth.
Back and forth.
By the fourth movement you felt Marc's arm tighten around your waist to keep you still, he scratched your thigh, you could feel it. He let the air out of his lungs in a sigh of relief.
You felt the warm liquid against your skin making his jeans wetter and stickier.
“Was it left or right on this corner?”
"Left." Marc stammered, his voice slightly breaking as his forehead remained on your shoulder. The rise and fall of his chest moved your entire body now that you were comfortably leaning against it.
You chuckled.
A few more seconds of silence and you trying to ignore the way Marc's body shook as the car went over a couple more bumps.
His poor cock was too sensitive and he was getting over stimulated.
"See?"
You and Marc looked back at him in the rearview mirror. You smiled, he didn't.
“It wasn't that much of a problem.” He unlocked the car from the driver's seat. “You have to learn to accept favors.”
“Well, tell that to Marc.” You cleared your throat as you opened the car door. “He had to carry me all the way, he must be exhausted.”
He pinched your thigh and you chuckled again.
tag list. @ninebluehearts
If you want to be tag please comment it, i'm not adding the usual tag list since i don't know if you want to be tagged on nsfw stuff 👀
Pairing: Vampire!Jake Lockley x Afab!Reader
Prompt: CNC & Sharp Teeth
Summary: You're at a shitty Halloween party, drinking some punch next to a stranger in a vampire costume. Then you're trapped in a cab, realising far too late the punch was spiked with more than alcohol.
Warnings: Extremely dubious consent, aphrodisiac, alcohol, blood, smut.
WC: 2.2K
Kinktober Masterlist
The party had gotten off to a good start. There was alcohol aplenty, bowls of sweets and spiked juice, someone was in a corner handing out skeletal spliffs and the DJ was playing banger after banger. It had the makings to be a great party, except everyone attending seemed to be as dead as a corpse.
"I'll be back in a minute, just going to talk to a friend real quick!" And there went the one person you actually knew at the party, leaving you alone in the living room while everyone else milled around, not really dancing, just ghosting from person to person. Safe to say, the Halloween party wasn't very lively.
With a heavy sigh you force yourself up from the musty couch, heading to the kitchen for whatever concoction someone brewed in the punch bowl.
Someone was already there, leaning over the bowl to dip their cup in. They wore a long black cape, which hinted at a wide variety of costumes, from Zoro to Batman. As you rounded next to them, it was neither of your earlier guesses. Next to you was a man in a white shirt and tie, crisp black trousers, black leather gloves and sharp, pointed teeth.
The moment you're next to him, red eyes snap over to you. A single dark curl ghosts over his forehead, the rest of his hair hidden under a black flat cap. Altogether it was a pretty lazy closet vampire costume, but you weren't going to begrudge anyone for not dressing to the nines to attend a party. At least he went to the effort of adding a few specks of blood to the corners of his smirk.
Leaning forward to scoop your own cup in, he makes no attempt to move back and give you space, almost pressing against you. When you straighten yourself, his eyes are still on you, and oddly bright despite using only contact lenses.
"You look as lively as the guy I killed on the way here." The voice had a Spanish rumble to it, laced with amusement and casualness.
You sip the punch, hiding a chuckle at the line. It tasted different from the last time you'd been drinking it, the fruity flavour now underlined with something bitter. Before you're able to properly put your finger on the change your eyelids rapidly become heavy, and no amount of blinking seems to orientate you better as the room spins and becomes a blur. Alarm bells barely have time to go off in your mind before everything turns black, a faint array of screams being the last thing your conscious of.
A dull yet pulsating pain rolls over your shoulders and arms. You sit up, head and heart both throbbing in pain and terror as a sleek, black taxi interior unblurrs around you. Your mind was empty of any memories after the punch table, the only thing that stuck was the deep red eyes of the strange man in the vampire costume and the knowing smirk that curled at the very edge of his blood-stained lips.
Immediately you try to open the car doors to no avail, both are locked from the inside and no amount of thumping against the cold glass will attract help. The cab was parked in an empty, dingy ally, with only one light flickering at the far end, leaving you to strain your eyes through shadows. Its out of those shadows the stoic man emerges, a glowing red ember puffing between his curled lips, almost matching the red eyes pointed right at you.
The man slowly approached, seemingly enjoying the look of confusion and fear marring your face as you backed away from the glass, only to end up bumping against the other door. He stopped beside the car, staring a moment longer as he dropped his cigarette to the ground and stomped it out, eyes never once leaving you. The taxi door opened quietly as he stepped in, the flat cap on his head skimming the car roof as he lounges onto the back seat, thighs spread.
“Don’t look so scared, quierdo. If I wanted you dead, I’d have ripped out your throat with the rest of those lowlives.” The casual wave of his hand does nothing to quell your racing heart, thudding against your chest so heavily you can feel it in your throat.
He leans forward, arms resting on his knees, close enough to smell the faint whiskey and tobacco on his breath.
“You know, you were the only one at that party, if I can even call it that, that seemed… real.”
The words caught you off guard by how odd they were, the general bizarre nature of the situation only adding to your anxiety. Despite the fear clouding your mind, your eyes didn’t miss the sharp fangs that peaked out from his lip ever so slightly when he spoke, the dark red stains that speckled his previously crisp white collar, the red line that rolled from his jaw to his adams apple, glistening slightly under the yellow interior cab light.
“You weren’t entertained by the mindless chattering, not impressed by the countless pendejos trying to get their dicks wet, no. You sat on that ugly little couch like it was your throne, like it was all beneath you.” He had leaned closer as he spoke, towering over you as he spoke.
Closer still, he moved until he was by your ear, warm breath huffing over your neck and sending goosebumps blooming across your skin.
“You were beautiful.”
The deep, gravelly cadence made your beating heart stutter. Your quick breaths caught in your throat. The closer he got, the more a strange heat slithered just under your skin. You’d attributed it to the alcohol or the now obviously spiked punch, but it was unnatural the extent it was reaching when he was near. The smirk grew as he licked his lips, nose nuzzling faintly just behind your ear.
Out of instinct you gasp, inching away only for a strong, gloved hand to grab your jaw and pull you towards the mans lips. His kiss was seering. Slow yet forceful, his tongue moulded into your mouth, exploring it all whilst sharp teeth caught against your bottom lip and left pearls of blood rolling down your chin.
The man pulls back, red eyes glowing as he sensually sucks the blood from your lip, lapping the dribbles of it from your chin. The groan from the back of his throat was almost a growl as he locked eyes with you, his gloved thumb smearing crimson stains over your chin.
“Draining you would be such a waste, hermosa. Such beauty shouldn’t be fleeting. It’s been far too long since a human has piqued my interest. Why don’t we see exactly how special you are, hm?”
As if to answer his own question the vampire tugs you securely into his lap as if you were a frail doll, grinding you into his crotch with a satisfied sigh. The movement caused your underwear to slide and pinch against you, somehow you’d become soaking wet with slick without realising. The strange heat from before was growing and now pooling in your abdomen.
The man returned back to your neck, now nibbling your damp skin in between kisses, sucking at the droplets of blood that tried to escape him. Bruises and pinpricks quickly littered over your tender throat, but it was barely noticeable when he continued grinding up into you with increasing fervor, rutting like he was already fucking you. Two hands roamed and groped your sides, but you weren’t caged in by any means.
The taxi door was still slightly ajar, the cool midnight air stoking more goosebumps over you, and in the back of your mind you knew if you acted quick enough you could jerk out of his grip and out of the door. How far would you get though, how long would you manage to run before he caught up to you? What else was this man, this vampire capable of? Any answers never surfaced, because your mind clouded any further thoughts. The arousal pulsing between your legs kept you rooted firmly in his lap, arching into his chest and hardness. Any alarms, warning thoughts or remnants of your fight or flight reaction became muddled with the growing need keeping you glued to him, although whether it was your own or the result of whatever concoction he brewed in the punch you couldn’t know.
In the midst of your muddled thoughts and heat, he’d carelessly ripped off your underwear in one clean tug before sliding his gloved fingers between your folds, curling the tips into your keen hole. A breathy moan escaped your throat that was still being marred by his fangs, accompanied by a low moan of his own.
“So wet for me, bebita.” His accented drawl was hypnotic, and his words were true. Never before had your body reacted in such a way for anyone, never ached with such primal need for another. His fingers spread the warm slick over your clit, rubbing in circles, causing you to whine and moan shamelessly into the night. You were putty in his hands, unable to think clearly beyond his touch.
With his right hand busy teasing your clit you didn’t notice when his left hand ceased its bruising grip on your ass and reached to his own crotch, unbuckling his belt and pressing his cock into you without warning.
The air left your lungs, curling into him as much as you could, pressing against his chest, using his tie to secure him to you. Your cunt needed no time to adjust, already wet and loose and pulsating with pure need, allowing him in with frighteningly little fight. The ease seemed to please him, the deep moan he let out morphed into a chuckle that vibrated in his chest.
Both hands came under your thighs, squeezing the soft cellulite as he leaned forward, smiling devilishly at your ear.
“Hold on tight mi amor.”
Those five whispered words were all the warning you were given as he lifted you up by the bottom, his cock sliding out of you with a wet pop, the tip just prodding at your hole before he slammed you down hard, his hips angling up to meet your descent half way.
The first harsh thrust set the pace as he maintained his powerful assault, fucking the air out of your lungs with a barely restrained ferocity. Any moans or gasps you managed to get out were marred with garbled words, the sounds constantly being cut off from the force of his cock. It was unnatural how even without your clit being stimulated, the pleasure of his thrusts had every nerve tingling, every ring of muscle inside of you squeezing against him, trying to keep him there eternally.
As your mind became more and more a slave to the blissful and supernatural fuck, your body was overwhelmed, like a toy being wound and wound to the breaking point, you were becoming undone. Stars were flashing over your vision, air was becoming harder to coax back into your lungs and your thighs were becoming a searing red from being slapped against his lap over and over. He was at your ear murmuring softly, yet his words were vulgar, spoken like vicious curses. Most of it you couldn’t make out in your disorientated, dick-drunk state, but one repeated phrase stuck out.
“Cum for me.”
Your body reacted on command, as if given an activation phrase. The effect was immediate, your legs filling with cotton, tongue tingling and toes curling. Your vision and mind went blank while the orgasm rocked you to your core and nearly gave you an out of body experience. His cock continued to pound into you and your pussy clamped around him for dear life whilst your thighs trembled, anchoring around the man for stability.
You weren’t aware that he’d came, only vaguely aware of his fangs piercing you one final time, his entire jaw clamping shut over your shoulder as he spilled into you. When the orgasm slowly faded and the air graced your lungs, only then did those repressed alarms pierce the fog clouding your mind. The reality of being confined in the cab with a supernatural being whom admitted to slaughtering everyone at the party dawned on you. The faces of your friend and acquaintances appeared with clarity, and your heart began racing.
He stirred from your neck, fangs retracting at the feeling of your chest thudding alarmingly against his. As your breathing picked up his tongue traced over a vein as it curled under your jaw.
“I knew you were special. You’re nothing like the rest of those vermin.” The vampire mused into your bruised and blood stained skin, seemingly indifferent to your rising fear.
“You’re mine.”
His jaw clamped over your neck, teeth piercing your flesh once again. However, in place of his usual nips and kisses, his fangs encased themselves in your throat causing blood to gush down your chest in warm, wet waves. You barely had a chance to ball your hands into fist against his chest and push him off as the fog of heat clouded your brain and sapped your strength, the same heat that flooded your veins when he first approached you. This time something else laced too, something foreign and acidic.
