"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.
just kidding, honestly, here comes an update or kind of
if anyone saw my last update well, long story short things got worse and, yeah, the worst thing that could happen happened, but to be honest i really don't want condolences or something like that because it's a wound that still hurts awfully bad but i wanted to tell you what happened!!
even though i deal with chronic depression october + november have been treating me so fcking bad?? like what did i do to deserve this amount of canonical events in my life ?? lmao
anyways, i've been trying to write some stuff and i'm kind of mentally blocked but i do have a ton of ideas and since writing was one of my escapes from my everyday life, well, i want to slowly come back and to be completely honest I do miss y'all too much
I wrote some headcanons a while ago about the moon boys being jealous of reader’s celebrity crushes, in Jake’s scenario I got inspiration from the public enemy #1 (Pedro pascal) and I don’t know if you read about it but Pedrito did it again, when a girl asked him for a photo she said “should we do it here?” (About where to take the photo) And he answered “we can do it wherever you want”
Which means somewhere in my imaginary world full of different universes Jake is getting tormented by Pedro Pascal for a third time lol
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.
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.”
it took me a while to finally watch the marvel studios: assembled moon knight thingy (unidos para mi gente latino lol) since i was experiencing the type of hyperfixation that makes your body HURT in excitement when you see something related to it and let me tell you it increased my love for marc in a worrying way like
if you haven't seen it (or don't remember it) they talk a lot about how it was extremely easy to love steven's character but then when Oscar started with marc's parts everyone was doubting if people was actually going to like marc at all AND I CAN'T STOP THINKING ABOUT IT, EVEN THOUGH IT'S BEEN A WHILE
my mind only works in terms of making scenarios out of everything but like i keep imagining him with a bunch of insecurities because steven is just too sweet and in comparison that makes him look like a jerk??? lol (i'm fucking crying honestly, i love him too much) idk, i'm rambling and i need y'all to love marc harder or i'm killing ms in front of you to change the course of your life forever
look at him look at his little face he's just a baby
I need to wear his blue sweater, the one that's too long in the sleeves.
I need to wear it to sleep and on my days off, I need to see his eyes light up every time he notices that I'm wearing it, and his scent is clinging to me.
Or maybe mine on his clothes.
I would run around the house to greet him with the tightest hug my arms could give, sometimes even jumping to let him hold me. My legs around his hips as I kiss his face over and over.
"I missed you," I would say before reaching his lips.
And he would let me stare at that beautiful smile of someone who can't believe they're holding the love of their life in their arms. His brown eyes fixed on me as he tries to convince himself that he's not dreaming.
He would tell me his stories from the museum and how a kid told him that his bloody-ish and gruesome facts about ancient Egypt were cool. Or how someone used the complaints and suggestions mailbox to make a personal request to hire him as a guide.
They referred to him as "The guy with curls and a pretty smile." (And I would pretend that didn't make me jealous.)
Other days, if I'm not very lucky, I won't hear him arrive. I might have my headphones on while I hum and or rather scream along to every song on my playlist, the one he's told me a million times is the most random thing he's ever heard.
His hands would roam my waist after secretly watching for a while, a kiss on my neck as a greeting that would make me giggle. Steven is always punctual when it comes to shaving, but after two days of waking up later than he should, his facial hair starts to tickle.
When I turn off my headphones, the music continues to play in the kitchen, this time from my phone, allowing Steven to judge more of my musical choices. And in many of these, it would be impossible not to drag him into the impromptu concert that interrupts my nightly chores.
"This is my song!"
"Love." A little laugh as I pull his arm. "You've said that about the last four songs."
"But this one is!" Ironically, Harry Styles' "Late Night Talking." My hands on his, inviting him to jump and scream with me as if the neighbors didn't already have enough problems.
It wouldn't take much for him to get lost in the music, even spinning me around every now and then as his clumsy jumps accompany mine.
With each "We've been doing all this late-night talking," our faces would get closer, both of us singing, and I would scrunch up my nose in reflex, my body trying to express in some way how he threatens to kill me with cuteness.
After each song, we would both applaud and make silly bows to each other, only to repeat the act in the next song because we both have our sleep schedules shattered.
Although the bedtime would never change.
The blue sweater only takes breaks on two different occasions, when it needs to be washed, or when Steven's scent is fading, and he has to wear it again. Either way, I would wear it every night while being squished against Steven's body, feeling his breathing against my cheek, and listening to the beating of his heart if I position my head just right.
He's one of those who immobilize you when they sleep, his leg between mine, his arms holding on as if he's afraid of being alone while he sleeps, and the constant way he forgets that his body is stronger than he thinks.
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.”
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