23 With Mitch!!

23 with Mitch!!

send me a character and a prompt for a scene blurb ~ (1/10)

SOOTHE : for one muse to calm the other during a panic attack.

He warned you that it could happen; the sudden jumps during the night, the strangled screams pulling from his throat, the sheen of sweat that drenched his skin. It’d been years since the nightmares refused to leave his darkened mind - grasping at any slither of sanity that he had left. The man would dream of softened sand and how it so quickly was stained red, ricochets of bullets and agonising screams creating notes of heart-wrenching symphonies. He witnessed a massacre and it was ruling his life - even after the miniscule trials of therapies and retribution gained from his CIA pursuits, he still couldn’t forget. Mitch Rapp would never forget. It didn’t make it easier on him when he started seeing your body laying lifeless in his arms and he couldn’t do anything to bring you back to him.

Your heart bounded in your chest as you were pulled sharply from your sleep, the man beside you shaking with ragged breaths. You’d never experienced Mitch when he was in this state but you could tell almost immediately that it wasn’t something that he was going to easily get past. As you turned to face him, his hand shot to his side to feel for you, warm clammy handprints encasing your wrist and he managed somewhat of a sigh when he realised you weren’t gone. It wasn’t enough, though, to settle his erratic heartbeat and panicked features.

“Mitch... Mitch, hey, look at me, Mitch... look at me...” You begged, still half asleep as you tried to maneuver yourself in front of the man. You kneed his legs apart through the sheets and settled between them, your hands cupping the scratchy stubble that covered his jaw. Thumbs ran shakily under his eyes, but it was their incapability to focus that nearly brought tears to your own. They were blown wide - the gentle caramel tone that often sparkled in the sunshine was nowhere to be found as black orbs drowned them out. They were wild and unkept and terrified. They were screaming out for help through silent pleas and you were starting to suddenly feel so small. 

Mitch tried to speak but could only voice fractured syllables, his gasps growing in pitch and urgency for air. It was hard for you not to freeze and stare on in shock, but you knew that he needed you. He needed love. Stability. He needed reassurance and promise. And you could give him that and more.

The hand wrapped around your wrist grew tighter and it broke you from your brief reverie, your free hand falling from his cheek and scavenging for his twitching fingers. You brought them to your chest and laid the palm flat over your sternum - breathing in, and out, slowly. You built a rhythm and forced yourself to keep that steady pace. Your eyes bored into his as you shushed the man with careful lullaby tones; humming soft songs under your breath, your body in control and calm.

“Breathe, Mitch. You’re safe. I’m safe.” You pushed, verbal reminders to settle his damaged soul. The gasps were slowing and you nearly screamed out in happiness when you watched his eyes finally focus on you, his pupils shrinking from their anxious size.

Mitch’s hands shook loose from yours and they were brought up to your own cheeks, his protective hold instantly cradling your face as he cooed at your expression, “Don’t cry, baby. Don’t cry for me.” He said quietly, hardly a whisper, but the proximity of his body to yours allowed you to hear it as clear as day. His thumbs managed to catch stray tears that you didn’t realise even left your eyes, and their silky paths were soon covered in tender pecks from Mitch’s dry lips. 

He settled his forehead against yours and your arms were hastily thrown behind his neck, pulling the man as close to you as humanly possible. It was sluggish, but his arms slipped behind your frame and squeezed you in a needy embrace, your chests flush against the other and your hips thrown against his own. He was crushing you, but you knew that he was reminding himself that this was real. You were real. 

Mitch took a deep breath, one that shook your frame as he exhaled, before his nose dragged over yours, “You saved me.”

“I-I just helped you breathe.” Your reply was quick, modest. You were glad that he couldn’t see your face because it was surely glowing with rosy blush. 

“Not just now, you saved me... from who I was. You brought love back to my life.” His voice was hoarse, and it prompted an absent-minded rub of your delicate fingers down his spine - of which made him melt instantly against you. “I have my demons but you make ‘em go away. You make me better.” 

It was your turn now to squeeze the man, squashing him against you as much as you could, never wanting to let him go. 

how about mitch with WEARY 🤍

send me a character and a prompt for a scene blurb ~ (2/10)

WEARY : for one muse to wake up after falling asleep on the other.

You hadn’t been rocked to sleep since you were a child; back when innocence was a given and your life didn’t revolve around righting the wrongs of others for the central intelligence agency. Exhaustion was securing around your body like a weighted blanket, and you were craving the comfortability of your single bedroom apartment. You didn’t want to think about travelling abroad for at least a month after your most recent mission, it’s tediousness still digging its claws in your emotional and physical wellbeing. It was oddly consoling, however, to find yourself in deep slumber on the company’s private jet as your cool down from Spain was lulling you to sleep.

You were so spent that you didn’t realise that you lent into the side of your partner, Mitch too tired himself to push you aside - not that he had the heart to do so, anyway, surprised at himself for allowing a soft spot for you to settle quite wholefully in his chest. From day one, the man was strongly opposed to having a field partner; he was convinced that they would get in his way and disagree on tactics and ideas. Mitch Rapp didn’t want to be responsible for anyone else, just to get in and get the job done. He was a closed off individual who only wanted to keep to himself - but it was all thrown into the wind when Irene Kennedy forced your hand into his, and declared you official consorts. 

Not that he minded too much now after having you get under his skin, worming your way into his life to the point where he just gave in and let you. Mitch would never admit it aloud, but he was glad that he had you by his side. That you were there for him. That he could be there for you, too.

Mitch was never able to sleep on airplanes, but it didn’t stop him from making sure that you did as he pulled your cardigan just that little bit tighter around your frame when the air-con kicked in, or how he would move his arm behind your body that you could be tucked in further to his side and nuzzle your weary head into the worn leather of his bomber jacket. It brought the man a sense of accomplishment when a delicate sigh left your parted lips, so he squeezed you, only slightly; not too much to make a difference in your sleepy status, but enough for you to release that gentle sigh once more.

“You’re digging y’self into a hole, Rapp.” A rough voice drifted his way, a magnetised force for his gaze as it landed on Stan Hurley across the aisle. Your handler was hardly looking back, his nose buried in some true crime novel about missing kids turned murderers - or whatever, you were always too turned off to allow him to get further into the details. 

“Dunno what you’re talking about.” Was all that Mitch could reply with, his hand absentmindedly ceasing its little dance between your waist and hip.

Stan chuckled, only loud enough to keep the conversation between himself and Mitch and he shook his greying head, “The more you care, the less control you have. It’ll eat at you. Make you scared. Make you weak.”

“You’re jumping to conclusions, sir.” Mitch tried to keep his voice levelled; he didn’t want his pitch to jump at any accusations, to give himself away. He did care, a hell of a lot, but he knew that he shouldn’t. And that’s what made it forbidden fruit - and boy, was Mitch tempted to try some.

Stan tutted, his tongue clicking against his teeth, lips rolling before they pursed outward. He wanted to reprimand Mitch for becoming involved, and surely if it were you in his place then Stran would be giving the same speech, but he knew the trials you’d both been through. He could see the connection, the natural pull between two lost souls becoming one. Maybe it was Stan Hurley who was the weak one in this scenario.

“You know as well as me what distactions do in the field. As soon as your pea brain wanders away from the target, then mistakes are made. People get hurt. The last thing you want is her getting hurt, ammiright?” Stan spoke almost sympathetically, and Mitch could see the sadness in the older man’s eyes.

Before he could reply, with something surely curt and sarcastic, the jet hit turbulence and the cabin shook. It prompted an overhead announcement about securing seatbelts as other agents and faculty held on out of impulse. It made you jolt awake, your body flying to an upright position, and before you could register where you were, Mitch was already securing your belt over your torso.

“How long was I out?” You asked him, knuckles rubbing at your eyes, and he found it strangely endearing to see you in such a state.

“Two, three hours. We’re still over the ocean.” Mitch gestured out the window that was shielded by a blind, one that he dragged down not too long after you dozed off. He watched as you peered out it, humming in acknowledgement before turning back to him with a lazy smile.

You peered to his jacket, a small dribble shining from the cabin’s lights catching your eye, “Shit, I slept with my mouth open.” You grumbled, pulling the sleeve of your shirt down as you dabbed at the material, before sighing in content when it was all fixed up. “I don’t usually drool in my sleep, sorry Mitch...”

He cleared his throat, his focus breaking from gazing over you with the type of heart eyes that he hadn’t experienced in five years. He shook his head, “Don’t worry ‘bout it.”

Maybe Stan was right, he was caring for you. A little too much.

FEEL IT | DYLAN O’BRIEN (18+)

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST

DAY 9: EDGING

WARNINGS:

Edging, Degradation and Marking.

your back arched from the bed continuously as dylan laid between your legs. his cold, rough hands smoothed up the skin of your stomach, as your body shivered with pleasure. right now, he was kneeled between both your thighs, your eyes were blindfolded with the black tie form his fitted suit. the bed creaked again as he kneeled closer to you, feeling his soft breath on your face as he gave your lips a tender peck.

you could feels the tips of his padded fingers, slowly glide up, just underneath the band of your bra. he looked up at your face as you breathed unsteadily already worn out from his edging, your throat raspy and tight as you lay in anticipation. he pulled each cup down over your nipples, he grasped at them gently, smiling at the soft sigh you elicited.

he pulled the garment over your shoulders and down your arms, trailing his fingers over your hands as he threw it to the floor. he pulled back giving you another tender kiss, his lips were stuck to the skin of your neck as he sucked at your flesh lightly. you were surprised by how much time he took for everything, giving you all his attention, after your begging.

his lips softly crashed onto yours as he nipped at your bottom lip. you sucked on his, making him groan, giving you deeper access to his mouth. he swiped his tongue along the side of yours, and just as you were about to deepen the kiss further, he pulled away teasingly, leaning down and kissing your jaw once again. his hands gripped onto your thighs keeping them spread for him as they shook, leaving small hand shaped bruises onto your skin.

you could feel his presence move back between your thighs again as your breath hitched. his fingers trailing up, teasing over the place you really needed him. his thumb rubbing circles around your clit but never really touching it. your needy whines started up again as he lapped up the sounds you made. you felt dazed ready to cum form just his teasing.

your slick was spread all across your skin, splattered across your this and all over his hands as he constantly denied you pleasure. suddenly, the stretch of his fingers filled you as you clenched around him, your body begging for release. your moans hitched up, his thumb rubbing down on your clit pushing you closer to the edge.

you couldn’t speak, trying your best to squeak out, begging him to cum. a muttered ‘please’ you could utter but his fingers never slowed and his thumb only pushed down harder and rubbed faster. your back began to arch up of the bed again, your slick pumping out as your orgasm grew, at its peak. but it left pleasure stopped as soon as you were about to cum, his fingers halted, pulled form you once again.

you were being punished and that’s what you get for ‘being a brat.’

🎃 KINKTOBER TAGLIST: @angelofthetrenchcoats @cvrliie @heyauntieeee @newgirl2 @stilessbaseballbat @taurusvic

DYLAN O’BRIEN TAGLIST: @bxrbie1 @greengarsstuff @hessafeelsfordayss @idylio24 @luhh-snow @oh-kurva @ohwowimlonley @queen-eleven @screambih @taurusvic @whoaskedgabby24 @xo-circe @yktfv18poisonlvy @5lutfordylanobrien @its-carlerrr @queenofmisc @steadygoopangelhairdo @carrot-shavings @midnight-star47

PLUG | STUART TWOMBLY (18+)

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST

DAY 8: ANAL

WARNINGS:

Sex Toys, Spanking, Anal, Praise and Begging.

stuart’s hands spread both of your ass cheeks, pulling the flesh apart to savour the sight of the pretty little jewel, snug between your cheeks, that glinted underneath the low light of your shared room. it was a shimmering silver that contrasted nicely with your skin. he gently slapped the sides of your ass watching as your hips swayed from side to side, enticing and hardening him even more.

teasingly, he slid his thumb underneath the jewel, pressing the tip of it against the handle, pushing it deeper inside you and listening to your sweet moans. your pleasured moans filled the room, bouncing of the walls, sounding like a symphony to his ears as he began to press and release his thumb against the toy, thrusting and shoving it inside you.

“you like that, sweetheart, hm? s’it feel good when i play with your ass like this?”

he groaned as you clenched around the plug, watching as you greedily took the pleasure he offered, swallowing the toy even more. still groping your pudgy flesh, he began to trail his fingers from your cunt up to the toy. circling your wetness around the rim.

“y’want my cock, baby?”

you screwed your eyes shut in frustration, begging, “yes, stuart! please! i want your cock.” the plug nudged at your insides, brushing through your walls to your cervix with every push of his thumb, pushing you closer and making you teeter on the edge. but it was nothing compared to the feeling of stuart’s cock pounding into your tight hole.

the phantom feeling of his length had you clenching and whining once again, aching for his length. you were desperate as you propped your arms up, looking over your shoulder and directly at him, preparing for the mouthful of begging for the hundredth time. but before you could even open your mouth, his infamous smug smirk was shot your way, as he pulled the plug form inside you, smooth and fast.

you keened forward at the emptiness, your nerves on fire as you were stretched a little, jaw open in pleasure. he set the toy down beside him on the mattress, picking up the bottle of lube and squirting a generous amount all over his cock, wrist pumping it visciously, his thumb slicking up his tip and wrist twisting around his length, crude squelching noises filing the room.his clean hand pushing you forward as he aimed your cock at your hole. the hot and heavy feeling of his cock resting at your opening.

“y’want my cock, baby?”

he pushed once again, dipping the head of his length inside finally and pulling back out as you whines in discontent. you seated your backside cheekily against his cock, trying to push back against him to slip it back inside you, only to receive a hard slap to your right cheek.

“beg, baby and then I’ll fuck your cute little ass.”

you sighed once again, breathing in deeply to ground yourself. “please, please, stu! i want your cock! i need you inside me.” you were so close, sobbing in desperation. finally you felt it. the large intrusion of his length filling you, as he pushed inside your ass.

🎃 KINKTOBER TAGLIST: @angelofthetrenchcoats @cvrliie @heyauntieeee @newgirl2 @stilessbaseballbat @taurusvic

STUART TWOMBLY TAGLIST: @bxrbie1 @greengarsstuff @hessafeelsfordayss @idylio24 @luhh-snow @oh-kurva @ohwowimlonley @queen-eleven @screambih @whoaskedgabby24 @xo-circe @yktfv18poisonlvy @5lutfordylanobrien @its-carlerrr @queenofmisc @steadygoopangelhairdo @lilygreennn

Can you make a dylan fic with a similar vibe to ‘sour’ your joseph fic? just basically needy sex and he takes care of her? 💓💓 you’re so talented and good at writing it’s crazyyyyy! 🤩🤩

Author's Notes: Thank you very, very much. You're incredibly kind. I actually had something similar written a bit ago, but never really intended on sharing. But, I started sharing my Dylan works a while ago, and this request came in...sometimes things fit nicely, and I like that. Please let me know what you think if you have a moment - messages, comments and feedback are greatly appreciated! Thank you! xoxo

Warnings: Swearing, Arguing/ Tension, Slight angst, Sexual references - sexual innuendos, Smut*(established relationship, dom/sub relationship, choking, hair pulling, biting/ pinching, oral sex - female receiving, use of safe words - lights, unprotected sex - be safe out there, your choice how!)

Requested? YES! Requests are open!

*My work is not to be transferred, copied, translated or reposted to any other sites without my permission. And you do not have permission. Please see my masterlist for all other works and warnings. Thank you! xoxo

They were not having a good day.

She was having a hard day with her writing, and Dylan was frustrated. He felt shitty and there was no other soft, term to sugarcoat it. He just didn't feel like himself that day.

"Baby, I was going to order Thai food for dinner. What did you want?" She questioned as she stood in the living room while Dylan watched baseball.

"M'not hungry." Dylan mumbled as he kept his eyes low, and fixed on the television.

"You haven't eaten all day. What do you want, Dylan?" She sighed, asking once more a little firmer as she crossed her arms over her chest.

"Don't. Alright? I'm not in the mood for your attitude." Dylan grunted with a glare.

"What attitude? God, Dylan!" She snapped before she stormed out of the room, but Dylan was hot on her heels. He might not have been in the mood for her attitude, but he was in the mood to argue.

"This. This attitude. You're being a fucking brat, and I'm not having it. Give me this." Dylan spat as he grabbed her phone from her hand and placed it down on the counter a little harder than she would have preferred.

"Dylan! That's my new phone!" She snapped as she crossed her arms over her chest again, glaring at him before she went to reach for her device.

"You are in your fucking head all the time, and that's why you can't write anything right now. And then you project all your shit on me. I'm done with it." Dylan growled as he pushed her phone across the counter, out of her reach.

"Like you're so sunny to be around today, O'Brien." She scoffed with a roll of her eyes, adjusting her arms across her chest and accentuating her chest.

"Don't. Don't do that." Dylan warned as he pointed to her chest, watching her take deeps breaths in. He disliked when she talked back to him, but not as much as he liked it. He liked how her face got flushed, pupils dilated and breath uneven when she told him that he was, "a fuck". He liked it when she jammed her finger into his chest, all weak and with no force whatsoever, and then stormed off with that exaggerated sway in her hips.

"Don't stare at my tits then." She snapped as she went to turn on her heel, only to have him take hold of her wrist and tug her back against his chest.

"You know I'm more of ass man, sweetheart." Dylan mumbled as he held her wrist and looked her over.

"Well, watch this ass walk away. You don't get to play, O'Brien." She muttered as she pulled her wrist back and turned to storm away from him.

"I said, don't." Dylan growled as he grabbed her hips and lifted her up, sitting her on the island counter with a thud.

"You're asshole, O'Brien." She whimpered as she pulled his hair hard, making him groan.

"Well, you're a little brat and I'm not too fond of you today either. Did you at least get something done? Make your attitude worth it?" Dylan mumbled as he ran the palm of his hand over her collarbone to her throat, trying t keep his dominance as she rolled her body into his.

"Yes."

"Good. Are you going to be nice to me now?" Dylan grumbled as he gently flexed his grip on her throat, feeling her whimper beneath his palm.

"If you're nice to me." She shivered as she pulled at the hem of his shirt and wrapped her legs around his waist to pull him closer.

"I'm the nicest. I'm such a good boyfriend that I'll lick your pussy, right here on this counter. Would you like that?" Dylan breathed out as he kissed below her ear, his fingers in her hair at the nape of her neck.

"Dylan." She whispered as she tipped her head back so he would kiss her neck more.

"You want my tongue between these thighs, honey? Did you miss me today?" Dylan hummed as he pushed his free hand between them to rub her core through the fabric of her leggings. He felt a territorial grunt bubble in the depths of his stomach as he felt her leggings damp beneath his touch.

She wasn't as angry with him as the little show she had put on today.

"Yeah, baby." She breathed out with a delicious little roll of her hips into his fingers and Dylan completely forgot why he was upset.

Dylan muttered incoherently under his breath as he grabbed the waistband of her leggings and wrestled them off. He rooted his fingers in her panties and tore them at the centre, humming when he saw her soaked folds underneath.

"Come here." Dylan growled as he hitched at the waist, hooking his biceps under her knees to bring her core to his mouth. He gave her messy licks and kisses all her folds, tasting her for the first time that day and he was ravenous.

Her back arched off the counter, her thighs pressed to the sides of his handsome face as she pushed her hands through his hair. She whined and wriggled in his grasp as his tongue swirled around her folds in the most obscene and steadfast circles. He was so good between her legs, and he fucking knew it.

"Gonna make me cum, baby." She whined out as she tugged his hair and rolled her hips into his face.

Dylan hummed triumphantly as she gasped, finishing. He pinched the back of her thigh and gave her entrance a messy open mouth kiss after she came, then tugged her off the counter and put her back on her feet.

"Bend over." Dylan mumbled as he helped her turn around, manhandling her to his desired position. He bend her over the counter and shredded the remainder of her panties, letting them fall to the floor.

"Dylan." She whimpered as she stood on her toes, holding her weight on the counter as he ran his thumb through her drip from behind.

"Sometimes I wanna fuck the anger right outta you, but you know I kinda like it. You know I can handle you. Right, honey?" Dylan mumbled as he wiggled out of his sweats, lined up with her entrance and tugged her head up with his fist wrapped around her hair.

"You couldn't fuck me hard enough, O'Brien." She spat as she pressed back into him to try and fill herself with his length.

"Says the woman who cried because I fucked her so good Saturday night." Dylan growled as he gave her a firm thrust with no warning, making her cry out.

"Fuck you, Dylan." She shivered as she pulled her nails across the countertop as he filled her out, then began a fast pace to shake her whole body.

"Move your hips a little and you will, honey." Dylan teased with a tug of her hair as he leaned down to bite her neck. He groaned into her neck as he felt her bounce back into him, her walls squeezing him tightly.

"Yellow light!" She cried out as he nudged her gspot at a particular angle that made her entire body go weak. After all the anger and emotions she had felt that day, she didn't want to feel him there while she attempted to hold herself upright.

"M'sorry, honey. Are you okay? Am I hurting you?" Dylan panted as he pulled out just a little, hands on her hips as he buried his face in her neck.

"Couch?" Dylan replied as he eased out of her, turned her around then lifted her up ever so gently to carry her to the big sectional couch. He laid her back on the couch and positioned himself between her thighs, kissing along her neck as he waited for her go-ahead once more.

"I didn't say stop." She whispered as she wrapped her legs around his waist and lifted her hips to his.

"M'sorry we fought today. Oh, damn." Dylan groaned as he slipped back inside of her.

"No. I'm sorry, baby." She pouted as she ran her fingers through his hair and down his back, tugging his shirt.

"Are you gonna cum, honey?" Dylan smiled as he pressed his forehead to hers, hands gripped at the backs of her thighs to pull them high around his waist.

"Yes! Will you cum with me, Dylan?" She whimpered as she rocked her hips with his.

The moment Dylan heard her say his name, his hips were no longer his. They became wild, on a mission of their own and it was all he could do to hold on. He gripped her thighs and pressed his forehead to her chest as he came inside of her, a growl deep in his abdomen as he rolled his hips through the aftershock.

"Goddamn, woman." Dylan sighed as his body became weak, flopping on top of hers. He could feel his hands shaking even as he pressed them to her thighs.

"You started it." She teased softly as she placed a soft kiss to the top of his head, her own hands clutching his shirt.

Dylan let out an exhausted laugh as he used all of his remaining strength to turn them over, resting her body on top of his.

"Goodnight, honey." Dylan mumbled as he stroked her hair, both of their bodies fragile and limp. There was more apologizing to do, but that was to be done later. They had so much time.

"You don't want to go to bed?" She asked with a soft kiss to his neck.

"Here's good."

**I have stopped doing a tag list for the time being. Please let me know what you think if you have a moment! Thank you so much xoxo

Requests for Dylan O'Brien, Andrew Garfield, Eddie Munson and Joseph Quinn are open!!! Requests for OBX are closed.

If you enjoyed this, you might also like my fics:

Her Outfit {Dylan O'Brien}

For the Team {Dylan O'Brien}

Dylan O'Brien NSFW Alphabet

Sour {Joseph Quinn}

BREATHE | HENIRICH TREADWAY (18+)

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST

DAY 4: CHOKING

TRIGGER WARNINGS:

CHOKING, PAIN PLAY, BREATH PLAY, FACE SLAPPING, DOM/SUB RELATIONSHIP.

“fuck, heinrich.” you squealed as he pushed you to the front door of your apartment. you were both clad in fancy clothes. a tuxedo adorning his body and even rings scattered on his fingers. his hand immediately clasped around your throat as his feet kicked yours spread. his fingers squeezed the sides of your throat as you tried to speak out.

“no, no, no, you don’t get to speak,” he taunted. “not after your attention seeking, deciding to tease me.”

his other hand had already creeped between your legs as he pinched your thigh, painfully. your body jerked at the pleasure clouding your brain already as you struggled to breath. his body pushed up close to you, the strength in his arms pulling you up the door to match his height as your legs closed around his thigh. the fingers that had pinched you had already pushed your panties aside, rubbing harsh, fast circles into your clit.

you were getting close way too fast, the teasing in the car had backfired and you’d only turned yourself on as he sped down the roads. he let go slightly, allowing you to breath in the hot air surrounding you both for a few seconds as you let him know you were close. your squealing and fidgeting in his hold made him smirk as he caught on to your advances, his fingers tightening again and pushing your head back as it bumped against the door a little.

“don’t you dare cum.”

he snarled at you, slipping two fingers inside you, continuing his rough pace. you deeply regretted teasing him. you knew the punishment he’d always give you, denial. but after the week your had you knew that pushing him was even worse and your throat would pay the price either way. you debated on disobeying him further, but then you really wouldn’t be able to breathe with your throat stuffed.

“this is what you get for disobeying me, princess.”

he growled, the nickname a mock in the way you’d whined, the hand on your throat left for a few seconds and a sharp slap to your face had you gasping at the demoed pleasure.

“you really don’t deserve to cum. maybe i shouldn’t let you cum tonight, i’m pretty sure whores don’t get to cum.”

his lips curved into a small smirk as he watched your eyes widen again, the laugh at the start of his sentence, making you wetter. your hands reached up to his wrist, clawing at his skin but the pain didn’t affect him. “no! no!” you stuttered out shakily as your legs starts to shake. he laughed at you fucked out expression.

“you’re not even trying to hold it, are you?”

he mocked again. he knew you couldn’t really talk too much since his hand was secured around your throat making it hard to breathe. he cut off your oxygen for a few seconds every minute or so before his digits loosened. he knew you secretly loved it, loved his dominance. you basically asked for it, especially after he warned you to stop teasing him.

“please.” you begged, your pride long gone as you watch his orbs darken. he finally gave up, just wanting to fuck you at this point. he’d had enough of your whines. so his leaned down sucking deep bruises into your delicate skin. your cunt was tightening and pulsing around his fingers, your juices crying and seeking out for more. he licked a hot stripe up to your ear whispering into your ear.

“cum. do it now. fucking cum!“

he squeezed your skin, nipping at that spot on your neck that finally had you cumming. the pleasure extremely overwhelming as his hand loosened, finally allowing you to breathe as you came down form your high. your body sagged against his as he lifted you from the floor and tossed you over his shoulder, walking to your bedroom where you knew he’d really have you choking.

🎃 KINKTOBER TAGLIST: @angelofthetrenchcoats @cvrliie @heyauntieeee @newgirl2 @stilessbaseballbat @taurusvic