Kitchen Fnaf

"Does my son fuck you this good? No? Then take this dick like the good girl you are." My father-in-law had me bent over the kitchen counter, hand clamped over my mouth to muffle my moans, while his son—my husband—called my name from upstairs... *** You think you know what you're getting into? You don't have a fucking clue. This isn't some tasteful romance where the camera pans away. This is the raw, uncut, NC-17 version of your filthiest 3 AM fantasies—the ones you'd never admit to anyone, not even yourself. We're talking Daddies who don't ask permission because you already gave it with those desperate eyes. Men old enough to be completely off-limits but experienced enough to make you forget your own name. They'll bend you over their desk, fuck you silent at family dinner, and make you call them Daddy while reminding you how young, and tight you are. Trigger warnings? Everything here is designed to trigger you. Age gaps that'll get you disowned. Rough hands leaving fingerprint bruises on your hips. Choking that blurs your vision while he calls you his perfect little slut. Public sex in places you'll never see the same way. Getting passed around because one man isn't enough. These men don't make love—they fuck, claim, own. They'll use every hole like it belongs to them because it does. Degrade and worship you in the same breath. Call you their dirty girl while balls deep making you scream. Now be a good girl, turn the fucking page, and let Daddy show you what you've been missing.

My name is Akira Sy, or rather, Akira Sy Montenegro—18 years old. Yes, I’m married to the man I love most, Kyle Xavier Montenegro. He’s a businessman—handsome, incredibly successful, and has everything. I fell in love with him when I was 16, always dreaming that one day we’d be together, and yes, my dreams came true. The next morning, I woke up to a cold sensation on my face. I opened my eyes and realized it was water, soaking my entire face. I looked up and was met with Kyle’s dark, piercing gaze. I immediately felt a wave of anxiety. “K-Kyle,” I stammered, my voice trembling. He closed his eyes tightly, as if burdened by a huge problem. “Stand up, wh*re. I’m hungry. Cook for me, NOW!” he ordered with authority, making me scramble to get up without even bothering to wipe my face or change clothes. No, we don’t sleep in the same room. He’s in the master bedroom while I stay in the guest room because he finds me disgusting. It hurts so much when those words come from him. He’s always like that. I rushed down the stairs, tying my robe as I went, heading straight to the kitchen to prepare his breakfast. Yes, I’m his secret wife. No one knows except our parents and a few friends. Since we got married, there hasn’t been a day when he didn’t remind me that he doesn’t love me. Not a day goes by without him hurting me, but it’s okay because, like I said, I love him so much that I’m willing to do anything just for him to love me back.

Sera Quinn had one job. Marry a dying man, keep her head down, and wait. Nobody told her that Damien Voss did not die on anyone's schedule but his own. She was twenty two years old when her stepfather sat her down at the kitchen table and explained her options. Her mother was sick. The bills were swallowing everything. And the most powerful billionaire in the country was lying unconscious in a private hospital ward with his family desperate enough to pay a small fortune to any woman willing to stand beside him at the altar. All Sera had to do was say yes. She said yes. She had no other word left. She moved into his mansion and tried to be invisible. She talked to him in the dark of his room every night because there was nobody else and because she was sure he could not hear her. She told him things she had never told anyone. She told him she was scared. She told him she was pregnant. Then she overheard four words that changed everything and she ran before the sun came up. Four years later she had rebuilt herself from nothing. A career. A spine. Twin children with their father's eyes. A case file she had been building alone, one quiet hour at a time, that connected a road barrier report to a name that would put people in prison. She had one rule. Stay away from Damien Voss. Then her four year old daughter hacked into his private server and left him a message. Damien was already in his car before Sera found out what her daughter had done. He was not coming to talk. And Sera Quinn was finally done running.

Olive came home one day to find her one and only long-term boyfriend balls deep inside her roommate. With her heart crushed, her fighting spirit from hell, and her best friend at her side, she sets out to prove a point. She can be with anyone, if she wants to be. She finds the hottest guy at the nightclub, and has her one night stand with a stranger. In a turn of events, Liv meets Leo, Lucas's best friend, on campus through an accidnet. unaway of the relationship between the two Liv agrees to hang out with Leo and a group of friends unexpectedly running into Lucas again. Lucas, the billionaire playboy, is determined to make her his, but so is Leo, the sweet and innocent billionaire. How will these best friends handle fighting for the same girl? With the trauma of the past sneaking into their lives who will Liv choose? Only one of them gets the girl.*********"If you keep biting your lip like that I won't be able to contain myself." I could feel the warmth of his breath fan over my lips, making me hungry to feel them against me. I bit my lip again as my way of giving him permission. He gave me a sexy smirk before he crashed his lips against mine. His hands gripped at my hips, lifting me up and placing me on the kitchen island. I parted my legs allowing his torso between them as he grabbed my bottom, while parting my lips with his tongue. I let him explore my mouth with a soft moan. His hands left my rear, traveling up my thighs, pushing my dress up along the way. He ran his finger over my dampening slit. "I want to know what you taste like, Rose."

I stood on the pavement outside the townhouse that had been my sanctuary for ten years, watching the removal men haul out my life. Beside me, Lyle didn't even have the decency to look guilty. "It’s just business, Lolly," he’d said an hour ago, dropping the divorce papers onto the marble kitchen island. "You were a beautiful asset. But assets fucking depreciate." Now, I was a 'no one'. No money, no keys, and my reputation dragged through the mud. I stared up at the window of my bedroom. Krista – my ex best friend – was up there right now.. I turned. A man leaned against the frame of a waiting black saloon car. He didn't look like a bloody saviour. He looked like the devil, and right now, the devil was exactly what I needed. "I'm Franco," he murmured. "And I think Lyle just made the biggest mistake of his pathetic life. He thinks he broke you. I think he just let you off the leash." The heat radiating off his body was a phenomenal. I had just lost my husband, but standing this close to Franco, the only thing I felt was a sudden, violent ache. He held out an invitation. The Apex Bloom. A survival game for the elite. The prize is a billion pounds. But it doesn't reward beauty. It rewards the hunger of a woman who has nothing left to lose." A sharp shock shot through me, and I let out a soft gasp. He stepped half an inch closer, his thigh brushing against mine. He knew what that touch did to me. He wanted it just as much as I did. "Rule one," Franco whispered. "In my arena, the only way to bloom is to bleed. Are you ready?"

Eighty-five filthy stories. Eighty-five ways to fuck you raw. This isn’t romance. This is 100% sex—cocks filling dripping pussies, tongues licking where they shouldn’t, and hands pinning you down until you’re begging for release. A thousand sins running in your veins, and not one you’ll regret. From priests breaking their vows to fuck you on the altar, to stepfathers spreading you open on the kitchen counter…You’ll taste the sweat of a gym instructor’s private session… making you moan with every “stretch,” to professors grading your obedience with their cock deep in your throat—this collection will leave you soaked, shaking, and ruined. Your landlord will make you pay rent in the filthiest ways imaginable. You’ll be sold to the highest bidder at a dark, private auction, stripped and displayed like a prize to be claimed. Doctors will have you naked on their table, touching you in ways that have nothing to do with medicine, while gynecologists spread you wide and push deep, “examining” you until you’re dripping down their gloves. These virgins will get their bellies pumped full of cum, fingers ripping through tight, wet walls until they’re screaming, crying, and begging for more. Rough punishments, public fucks, forbidden touches, and nights so dirty you’ll need to shower twice—only to touch yourself all over again. Get your towels. Get your tissues. Get ready to be fucked by every fantasy you’ve ever had… and a hundred you didn’t know you wanted. If you can’t handle raw, filthy, dripping-hot sex—close the book. If you want your pussy aching, your ass red, and your mind corrupted—welcome to your new favorite addiction.

My stepmother, Mary, hated me to the bone. All because when I was little, I went to a classmate’s house to play and forgot to close the courtyard gate. Her son ran onto the road and was hit to death by a car. My father loved my younger brother the most. After learning what happened, he was heartbroken. “Were you jealous of your brother? That’s why you deliberately left the gate open?” I desperately explained that I had closed the gate, but Dad didn’t believe me. He locked me in the basement and raised me like a dog for the rest of my life. Until one day, when Dad went on a business trip, Mary didn’t give me any food for three days. Starving, I crawled upstairs to the kitchen to look for something to eat. That was when I saw Mary sitting on a man’s lap, saying softly, “If you hadn’t forgotten to close the gate back then, I wouldn’t be living in fear every day of my husband finding out… We’re the ones who killed Ethan.” Only then did I understand that I wasn’t the one who had forgotten to close the gate and caused my brother to run outside, but my stepmother’s lover. Just as I was about to sneak back to the basement, my stepmother noticed me. “What did you hear? No! I can’t let your father find out that I killed our own son!” In a panic, she grabbed me and threw me down the stairs, killing me on the spot. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the very day the car hit my brother. I blinked my innocent, childlike eyes and pointed upstairs, speaking in a soft, baby voice, “Dad, I closed the gate. It was the man in Mom’s bedroom who didn’t!”

Everyone says I have the face of an angel. However, I choose to take a knife and slash my own beautiful face. When my twin sister sees the drastic change in my appearance, she loses it and screams at me, wanting to know why I ruined my face. In my past life, she couldn't stop stealing food deliveries. When our next-door neighbor caught her, she shoved the pregnant woman so hard that she miscarried. The woman was seven months along, and both she and her baby died. But my sister just shrugged it off, bragging that she was some popular influencer, and two pathetic lives didn't matter. She even slapped down a 50-dollar bill like it was nothing, just to humiliate them. "Still trying to scam my money? For all we know, that woman's baby was already dead inside her. Your family must've done pretty awful things to deserve losing two lives like that!" When the dead woman's family showed up at our door with kitchen knives, ready for revenge, my sister chickened out and hid. Before that, she tricked me into coming home instead. The second I walked up to our front door, the grief-stricken husband slashed at my neck, severing the artery. I died right there on the spot. After I died, everyone spat on my memory. They all said I got what I deserved, and my parents covered up what my sister really did. She even had the nerve to come forward and apologize for me, cashing in on my death while hooking up with my boyfriend. The two of them became this perfect couple online and made tons of money. This time around, I decide to destroy my face. I want to see how she will steal my identity and pin her crimes on me now!

*** “Get back here Bella. Do not even try because you can't get away from me, and do not let me catch you myself.” “I don't want to have anything to do with you," she retorted angrily. “Oh, sweetheart, that is totally on you. Do you know how long I have been invested in you?” “You kidnapped me and brought me here. I don't want to be here and I'm not letting you touch me," her voice was so strong. He loved her challenge: it only made him harder. "Me touching you is definitely happening. You absolutely can't resist it for too long: you can only enjoy it now,” he said in a low, dangerous voice. With that, he quickly ran around the kitchen counter and caught her. “Got you… You can't run away from me Bella; no matter how hard you try I will always find you. “Let me go… now,” she shouted. “Not when I'm still breathing baby, you will love every single thing I do to you” he carried her over his shoulder to the bedroom… At a young age, Mirabella Antonio lost everything. Her parents died suddenly in a car crash. They died with a debt tagged to their names. A year later, her older brother, David was murdered in cold blood, trying to keep her safe and pay off the debt their parents owed. And the man at the center of it all was Hunter Groves. Four years later, he saw her again. He wants her. And Hunter doesn’t ask. He only takes. She opposed him in every way possible but he took her in every way possible. He is determined to imprint himself on her body and soul and that he did. Note; Dark romance; Male lead is a totally obsessed psychopath. ***Trigger warnings***

"Help me tighten this?" Her voice trembles as she turns her bare back to the doorway. Calloused fingers brush her spine – but it’s not her stepmother. It’s Asher Voss, SU’s star quarterback and her new stepbrother, smirking in the mirror， "Next time you mistake me for Mom..." His breath scorches her ear. "...I’ll leave a real mark." To survive the sweltering New York summer before college, Wendy Wu makes a deal with Asher: Act like strangers once school starts. He’ll remain the untouchable quarterback; she’ll be just another exchange student. No eye contact. No acknowledgement. Ever. But when her father’s long hauls and her stepmother’s busy schedule force Asher into babysitting duty, the lines blur: In the kitchen, he catches her weeping over a shelter documentary and lifts her against his sweat-drenched chest. Garage doors rattle open – his grip tightens: "Hold on. Unless you want them to see you like this." At a party, her friend spots a cherry hair tie on his wrist before he drags her into a dark hallway: "You didn’t want to see me?" His whiskey-laced kiss brands her lips. "Yet your eyes undressed me all night." In a restaurant, a rival girl glares through the window. He traps Wendy’s thigh under the table， "Call me ‘brother’ and I’ll save you."  Their secret collapses. Wendy ends it, and he freezes her out in public， "Do I know you?" Until a rain-lashed night when Ahser, drenched and desperate, pins her to the wall， "Don’t tell me you do not regret the breakup" His teeth find her collarbone. "I have to admit it-- I miss you." Can a love forged in stolen touches survive the spotlight? Or will their step-sibling bond shatter them both?