Latest Posts by virtualvault - Page 2

Do you think their periods are synced?

my ex’s tapes

summary: you and basil broke up, and now, you're seeing some other guy. but basil just can't get over you. and you know it.

pairing: ex!basil stitt x reader, fwb!jake lockley x reader

rating: explicit (18+)

cw: dub-con, smut, creep!basil, voyeurism, stalking tendencies, piv sex, virtual!cucking, m!masturbation, no aftercare, angst

wc: 1.5k

a/n: this fic was originally for someone else, but basil just fit the vibes so much more!! and yeah, the poll ran for less than 10 hours BUT 🤷🏻‍♀️ im impatient. y'all know me, i can't hold on to a finished draft for more than a day -- so this is this, take it or leave it.

masterlist

----

He sighs as he opens up his laptop.

It’s depressing, he’s depressing -- disgusting.

A hot veil of shame washes over him as the monitoring app automatically opens for him as he logs in. A reminder of his dirty habits. And yet, for some reason, it makes it that much hotter.

The screen brightens as the program displays the soft pinkness of your bedroom. A small smile quirks at his lips as he spots you laying prettily in your mini nightgown, sprawled out on your bed, as you idly text someone on your phone. 

A quick ping makes Basil switch programs and scan over your conversation.

Jake: be there in 5

You: ok! text me when you arrive :)

It’s like clockwork.

Every Friday he comes over, fucks you into the mattress then leaves before he can fall asleep next to you.

What a piece of shit, leaving someone like you alone at night. 

You deserve better. You deserve someone like him. Someone that will cuddle you to sleep and wake you up with a cup of coffee, or kiss every inch of your body while telling you how perfect you are.

And for a moment you did have him–but then your friends went and fucked everything up.  

Despite all the shit he did for you, you weren’t satisfied, or rather, your friends weren’t satisfied. Apparently, his idea of protection and security was overbearing and controlling. And he was being clingy because he wanted to spend time with you. They’ve been filling your mind with bullshit ever since you introduced him to them. 

Basil easily concluded that you were pressured into breaking up with him. That you aren’t really done with him–you’re just waiting for the right time to get back together. That’s his excuse as to why his cameras and safety initiatives are still in place. Because you’re still his.

A feminine giggle pulls Basil from his thoughts and back to what he was doing. He alt-tabs back to the security cameras, eyes immediately darkening at the image of you clinging onto Jake’s shoulders as he effortlessly carries you into the room.

An ugly weight pulls at his stomach when he sees you happily draped around another man. That should be him coming home to you, carrying you to your bedroom to show you his love. 

You’re plopped onto your bed with a squeak, bouncing slightly before pushing yourself up to eagerly crawl over to your hook-up. As you straddle yourself over Jake, he immediately starts to work his mouth over your topless chest. 

Basil’s hand brushes over his twitching bulge as your back arches prettily to push yourself further against Jake's lips. Encouraging gasps and sighs fill the room as he nips at your sensitive buds. Your breath quickens as a hand drags up your body to fist at your throat. He sucks harshly at your skin, leaving a pattern of faint bruises and teeth marks along your soft skin.

Your nearly naked figure moves lithely over his clothed body, already getting off on anything you can get your hands on. Basil watches hungrily as your hips roll fluidly over Jake’s lap, cunt barely covered by a flimsy pair of underwear. He pushes against his erection when he sees your blissed-out expression, imagining it’s him that’s making you this desperate. 

With a quick motion, Jake pushes you away to unbutton his pants, making sure to only push them down enough to free himself. You suck on your lip as you watch a bead of precum roll over the silken skin of his cock. You wish you could have a taste but that’s not how Jake likes it. 

Jake tilts his head as he considers you on his lap, cockily taking in the way your hungry eyes drink him in. With a light tap on your thigh, he commands you to move, “Get into position, sweetheart.” 

You climb off of him and settle yourself at the top of the bed, swiftly getting on all fours to present yourself to him. His hand grazes over your ass, clutching the softness before dipping into the heat of your center.

The soft fabric of your underwear is shoved to the side, exposing your glistening cunt to the room. Basil audibly groans as he catches a glimpse of your dripping hole, remembering how hot and tight you are. Your body is built perfectly to wrap around him. 

Jake lazily slides himself along the seam of your cunt, humming lightly as he soaks himself in your slick. “Look at this weepy pussy…”  You let out a breath as you relax your body against him, enjoying the gentle way he rocks over you. “You’re so messy for me.” Your body buzzes as his cock nudges against your clit with every stroke, fogging your mind with intoxicating pleasure. 

You don’t expect it when Jake’s hips abruptly snap up into you with one smooth motion, quickly filling you to the brim with a stinging stretch. The rough texture of his jeans chafes against the back of your thighs as his legs push harshly over you. You whine as your face is shoved into a pillow, barely allowing you a second of fresh air. 

Basil grips himself over his sweatpants as he watches your body struggle to get used to the sensation of being filled, legs shaking as you attempt to hold yourself up for him.

Jake easily ignores your trembling and immediately starts to pound into you, strategically angling himself to continuously prod against the electrifying spot inside of you. Despite the sharp sobs dripping from your lips, he knows you love it. Being treated like this. Like a toy. 

Basil strokes himself as he watches your greedy cunt swallow another man's cock, effortlessly moving back and forth with each thrust. He can feel his cock desperately throb for you as the filthy sound of your slick sopping down your thighs travels through the camera’s microphone. What he would do to taste you right now, the zingy flavor of your lust on his tongue.

Though he can’t see your face, he can tell you’re already close. It’s the way your body stiffens ever so slightly like you’re holding yourself back from reaching nirvana. He hates how your moans are muffled by the pink pillow. He craves to hear how your noises crescendo as you near the edge, how you crumble as pleasure takes over your body.

You almost feel like you might collapse from the aggressive way Jake drives into you. Jake’s calloused fingers grip bruises into your hips as he pushes and pulls you onto him, setting an unbeatable rhythm that you can barely keep up with.

Jake’s motions briefly stutter as your cunt grips around him. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, barely able to process his words as he continues to fuck into you. “Mm…Your cunt flutters so–fuck–sweetly around me. You gonna cum baby?” Your legs threaten to give in as molten heat rapidly blooms in your stomach, pulling you toward your peak. 

You cry out as he begins to drive himself impossibly deeper into you, slowing down when you fail to answer him. His chest vibrates against your back as he growls behind your ear, “Too stupid to speak? I asked you a question, honey.” 

With another nudge of his hips, you sputter out a response. “A-ah, yes—I’m so close, sir.” 

“That’s what I thought.” 

Basil’s sweats are messily shoved halfway down his thighs as he watches your tired body move bonelessly along with each movement of Jake’s hips. The stroke of his hand moves in sync with yours, cock leaking as he grips himself tightly to conceptualize the feeling of being inside of you. 

The rawness of your climax causes your body to writhe underneath Jake and you involuntarily start pulling away from his cock as your cunt convulses with ecstasy. 

Basil’s eyes squeeze shut as he’s coaxed into his release by your soft muffled whimpers. His hand works quickly along the length of himself as he rides it out, effectively spreading his mess with his hand and on the tops of his thighs.

Jake groans as you ​​suck him in, hands shoving you further into the mattress as you’re unable to control the way your body flutters and jerks around him. With one last push, he spills into you, coating your walls in warmth before pulling out.

Basil watches as Jake steps out of the room after murmuring something about a towel, leaving you there panting in the middle of your bed.

Alone.

You slowly turn over to your back, pushing your hair out of your face as you come down from your orgasm, face thoroughly flushed from exertion. His heavy eyes admire you from afar, wishing he could join you on the bed and hold you against him. 

He takes one last glance at you before reluctantly closing the laptop. 

----

You reach upwards with your arms pulled taut and stretch your body until you feel light-headed. Though you enjoy being fucked from behind, your back is always left sore from arching so deeply. Jake is fine. Good even. But that’s it. 

You’ve tried your hardest to ignore it, but something’s been missing from your life. Or someone.

Your eyelashes shadow over your gaze as you subtly glance at the stuffed kitten on your shelf. Your heart flutters when you notice the faint red light on its collar blinking right back at you. 

He’s still there.

Just One More

Pairing: Basil Stitt x F!reader

Summary: You're going away on a work trip and Basil tries to get his fill of you before you go. But it seems like he just can't get enough.

Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, 18+, stalker type behavior, obsessive/perverted behavior and thoughts, free-use, consensual somnophilia, mention of male masturbation & voyeurism, thigh-fucking, unprotected p in v, degradation, dirty talk, teasing, spitting, spit play(kind of), hair pulling, choking, overstimulation, cum feeding, filming(general consent to do so in their relationship but no explicit consent given beforehand), cockwarming

WC: 3.2k

A/N: Was originally going to be a Steven fic but I think this level of depravity and obsession is so much more fitting with Basil. He's such a pathetic mess and I love it.

Your dynamic with Basil is simple. You very quickly learned how he is. His wants. His needs. So you were more than happy to give him free reign to be as perverted and devious as he’d like. Before you waltzed into his life, he had already felt like he knew you intimately. He didn’t stalk you, per say, but he had become a bit obsessed with the brief glimpses he got of you as you lived in the building across the alley from his.

He'll never forget the first time he saw you. You appeared in your window one night, the glow of your bedroom light wrapping around your body, forming a beautiful silhouette. You looked ethereal, he thought. Like an angel. You didn’t have curtains, but if you did, he would've broken into your apartment and torn them down himself.

 He never had the courage to ask you if it was intentional, but he likes to think you knew exactly what you were doing. Putting on a show for him every time you were in your bedroom, walking around fully exposed. Often times you were fresh out of the shower, water dripping down your naked form.

It had become a ritual. You would come into view and his hand would immediately slip down his pants. And in less time than he'd like to admit, he was cumming over his hand, tears forming in his eyes as he was desperate for it to be spilling over you instead.

Not much had changed since you got together. Now you just happened to share a living space, so it was a lot more convenient. He touches himself at the thought of you constantly, which usually involves him either digging through your drawers or dirty laundry to use a pair of your panties or any article of clothing that holds your scent.  Or he uses some of the picture and videos he has of you.

You had shared your collection with him. You had countless videos of you and him messing around but what he found himself using most often were the photos you would send to tease him, turning him into a pleading, desperate mess, just begging to touch you. Like the ones you would send of yourself with your skirt pulled up and tits out in the mirror at work, when he would text you and beg you to give him something, anything, as he sat at home counting down the minutes until you got back.

He particularly loved the ones that he took himself, usually of you when you're in bed and he’s standing over you getting off to your sleeping form. You two had a full free use arrangement, which he takes advantage of whenever he can. Having full access to you was a little overwhelming at first, seeing as he was used to viewing you from afar and practicing all the self-restraint he had knowing he couldn’t have you. Now he can have you whenever he wants but he still feels the need to do what he used to do; sneak around and feel a sense of shame at the dirty thoughts he has of you. He still experiences that same shame, except now he, and you, get off on it. 

You had come up with a code, though, a little red hair tie that you can slip on your wrist to tell him that he shouldn’t disturb you, if need be. You usually only use it if you're not feeling particularly well that day or if you have a long day of work ahead of you and really need the sleep. Tonight would be one of those nights, but you decide to take pity on him. You’re leaving for a week-long work trip in the morning and it would be nice to get some sleep. You struggle to sleep when you’re away from home and your partner so you want to just enjoy a nice night of slumber in his warm arms. But you know he wants to get as much out of you as he can to try and tide himself over until you get back.

Basil lays behind you now, staring at your bare wrist in the sliver of moonlight cast over you as you sleep. That's not what he expected. He momentarily thinks maybe you just forgot to slip it on. But he knows you. You’re very generous, always giving him what he needs. Not to mention your sex drive pretty much matches his, so you can usually keep up with how needy and desperate he can be.

But sometimes he gets in a mood where he’s insatiable. And today was just one of those days. He’s going to miss you terribly and he’s trying not to think about the next seven days he’s going to spend moping around until you get back. He struggles to be alone, and like you, he can’t get a good night's sleep without you there, his thoughts filled with nothing but you until you return.

 You had really given him your all today, though, moving around the house to fuck him on every surface you could think of. You ended up on the floor in the middle of the hallway leading to your room and you rode him until he saw stars. You had eventually worn yourself out and after your last round you told him it was time to shower and turn in for the night, but he still had that hungry look in his eyes. So, you decided to forgo the little red band. You were so exhausted you weren't sure you'd even wake up.

Now sleeping soundly next to him, he looks down at your body. He had wished so badly that you two could fuck each other to sleep, nice and slow until you both slip into unconsciousness while he's still buried inside you. But you were out like a light the second your head hit the pillow.

He’s behind you, hard cock resting against your bare ass. He shed his clothes, needing to feel himself directly against your skin. He decides to use your thighs to get off, knowing you'd be the least likely to wake up this way. He really wants you to get some sleep but something he never takes into consideration is his severe lack of control.

He rubs some spit on himself, and pushes his dick between your plush thighs. He immediately coils his body around yours, and you shift against him. He stills, worried he woke you. You nestle deeper into his hold, but your breathing is still slow and even, indicating you're still asleep. He gradually slides closer and closer to your center, until his length is wrapped in your folds. The slick he can feel starting to form makes him shudder and he starts thrusting faster.

He catches on your entrance and you sigh quietly, but he notices your eyes are still closed. The brief contact with your hole reminds him of just how good it feels to slip inside and he realizes he’s not as strong willed as he had thought. He needs to be inside you. He hikes your leg up and rubs himself against your clit and your breath hitches. He continues this motion and eventually your eyes start to flutter open. Before you can look back to see what’s happening, he pushes into you. You both groan and he attempts to steady his breathing, trying not to cum yet.

“Just couldn’t control yourself, could you? Fucking me all day wasn't enough? So fucking needy.” you mumble. He whines pathetically into your shoulder, the shame painting his cheeks red. The look on his spurs you on. He's already a mess, clearly desperate to cum.

“You can’t help it though, can you? Go on baby, take what you need.” you coo. He sighs in relief and starts rocking into you, slow at first but when you grab him by the curls and crash his lips into yours, he speeds up, thrusts already sloppy. His breathing gets faster and faster and you realize how close he is.

You pull away. “You’re going to cum already? This is the last time you’re going to be inside me for a while, not even going to try and make it last? Pathetic.” you tease. He groans, silently cursing himself for being so weak, but he can’t help it. Your warm walls hug him so tight; you always bring him to the edge so quickly. He huffs in determination and shakes his head.

“ N-no.” he stutters, trying to think about anything else other than how you feel wrapped around him, how the closeness of your body flusters him. He begins his movements again, slow, trying to stave off his impending release. “Faster for me baby, c’mon” you grab his ass, pulling him into you deeper, trying to build to your own release. You quickly realize that he won't make it long enough for you to get off.

That's okay, you're plenty satisfied from earlier and the thought of him using you for his own pleasure has fresh slick forming between your legs, making him glide into you even faster. He pulls out, denying himself his release yet again and rolls you over. He lays on top of you and rests his head onto your chest, trying to catch his breath. “What’s wrong, I thought you wanted to cum? You were desperate enough to start using me while I was sleeping.” another whimper escapes his lips

“Not yet” he mutters, then moves his head to latch onto your left nipple and begins sucking hard. You arch your back, moaning at the sensation. You know what he’s doing. As much as your breasts turn him on, they have a way of soothing him even more. It comforts him to mash his face into your chest, enjoying your warmth and your scent. When he’s calmed down enough, he slides back into you, making you gasp. He wraps his arms around you and begins rutting into you.

He realizes he can't hold an any longer and he decides he's ready to let go. He starts giving deep, sporadic thrusts and shutters at the drag of your silky, wet walls. You pull his face from your chest and wrap your hand around his throat. His thrusts are short and uneven, but that in combination with the pressure on his throat has his eyes rolling back and he's practically drooling.

You're desperate to see him cum and you start to tease him, knowing that drives him crazy and deeper into fucked out bliss. "Do you touch me in my sleep often? I know you sneak off into the bathroom to use my panties if it's taking me too long to doze off, but what do you do to me when I'm sound asleep?"

All he can do is mewl. He can't form a single thought apart from how good you feel. "Do you use my hands? My thighs? Tits? I know you use my mouth. I can always taste you on my tongue the morning after." He pushes his neck deeper into your grasp and lets out a choked-out moan. He has now completely stopped moving and is now getting off on your words alone.

"Touching me in my sleep, stealing my panties, spying on me in the shower." His half-lidded eyes fly wide open. He thought he was being discreet about that. Usually, he'll just slip in and ask to join you but sometimes he gets the urge to just stand in the hallway and watch you through the crack in the door.

"Oh, thought I didn't notice that? I can hear you whining while you fist your cock. Such a perv." Tears well in his eyes at the humiliation, but you know he gets off on it. You're not sure if he realizes it but you know part of him does these things hoping to be caught. Get you to call him a dirty boy, tell him how perverted he is. Luckily, you're just as depraved. You're basically living under the same roof as your stalker and you wouldn't have it any other way.

"I can't h-help it." He mumbles. "I want you all the time." His confession makes you smile and you pull his lips to yours. He purrs, enjoying the sweet taste of you, and licks into your mouth sloppily. He's making it messy intentionally and you know exactly what he wants. You chuckle softly at the desperation and pull away, strings of spit still connecting your lips. You tighten your hand around his throat and use your other hand to give a sharp tug to his hair, and he gasps. With his mouth agape, you spit right onto his tongue.

He lets out a satisfied groan and you do it again, this time getting it on his face as well. He immediately wipes it off and shoves his fingers in his mouth, not wanting to waste one drop. He then pushes his fingers in your mouth, swiping the spit right off your tongue. You gag a little as his fingers slip farther down your throat, trying to get as much as he can. He loves that sound so he does it a few more times, then pulls his digits back into his mouth and begins sucking on them frantically. He hums at the taste.

"You're disgusting." you sigh, watching his movements. Despite your remark, you love the way he's licking and slurping up every last drop. Your comment has him twitching inside you. As much as you would like to make him cum just by cockwarming him while your filthy words drive him over the edge, something you have done many times before, you want to give him something you know will put him out of commission for the rest of the night.

 ou push him off, and out, of you which pulls a dramatic whine from the man who was enjoying your warmth. You push him onto his back and straddle his hips. He whimpers, readying himself to feel you slide down onto his cock.  This is usually how you end things. He comes the fastest in this position so it's become your go to 'finishing move'. You want to give him one last ride that will hopefully satiate him.

Sliding yourself over his length a few times, coating him in your slick, you guide him to your entrance and sheath his cock inside you in one swift motion. You grab his throat immediately and he lets out the most pathetic sound. You can tell he's already fucked out and you have to stop yourself from laughing. It's honestly adorable how quickly he falls apart like this.

“Yeah? You like that, princess" you tease, in that sultry tone that goes straight to his dick. This pushes him right over the edge and before you can even start grinding on him, his back is arching off the mattress and he grabs your hips with a bruising grip as he spills deep into you. He thrashes his head back and forth on the pillow and he's sucking in short, shallow breaths. Once he's you've pulled every last drop from him, he attempts to open his eyes, not yet fully aware of his surroundings.

There is one thing he can see and feel as the aftershocks rip through him, and that's you. So, he pulls you down to his chest, and you bury your face in his neck. You start planting kisses up his neck and across his jaw whispering sweet praises to him. You then cradle his face, and rub your thumbs back and forth across his cheeks, in attempt to help bring him down from his high. You rest your forehead against his, trying to get him to match his breathing to yours and that seems to work.

You eventually move down his body to clean him off with your tongue. He yanks at your hair but he goes back and forth between pulling you closer and trying to push you off. Next you have to take care of yourself, not wanting to drip his cum all over the skin you just licked clean. Usually, he’d enthusiastically clean his spend out of you with his tongue, but he’s still recovering so you scoop it out with your fingers and feed it to him. He happily accepts and he lazily licks at your fingers while you stroke his hair.

You eventually cuddle up next to him and he moves behind you again, placing you back into his arms. "I hope that was enough. If you start to miss me just imagine me on top of you like that again. I want you like that when I get back. I'll ride you just like I did tonight, but I'm not stopping until I'm satisfied." you smirk and you turn your head over your shoulder to look up at him.

He gives you a bashful, almost guilty look as he points to the nightstand and says, "I won't need to imagine." You follow his finger and your eyes land on the phone propped up, pointed directly at the both of you. Your eyes widen a little. You've given him permission to film you whenever, wherever, but you're almost always privy to it, acting oblivious but knowing exactly what he's up to. A smile tugs at your lips and a warmth spread across your skin as you wonder how many more videos he has of you when you had been none the wiser.

You turn back to him, and say, "Creep" , but follow quickly with, "Send that to me." and he chuckles softly and nods. As you turn away, he pulls you closer, nuzzling into your neck. It doesn't take long for you to start to fall asleep, warmed by his body and lulled by the rise and fall of his chest as you feel it move against you. Before you can drift off completely, you feel him shift, followed by his semi-hard cock stretching you once more. You can't believe it. You're a little impressed that he's even able to get aroused at all after the long day AND night that you had spent together. But, as much as you love him there's no way you can go again.

After a small gasp at the intrusion, you slide your hand into his hair and yank, commanding, "No. No more."

He hisses at the harsh tug, but assures you, "I just want to fall asleep inside you. Nothing more. I promise." You sigh. "Please?" he begs, and you can't help but give in. He's lucky you love the full feeling of having him inside you. In a weird way, it's actually comforting.

"Fine." You let go of his hair and he pulls you closer, now fully seated inside you. He sighs dreamily at the feeling.

You add, "But I'm serious, no more. Don't make me tie you down to the bed just so I can get some sleep.", only half joking. If this is how he's acting just at the thought of you leaving you can't imagine the desperate mess he'll be when you return. You can't wait.

I’m not a perfectionist, but finding a typo or a grammatical error in my own already-published fic is like stepping on a Lego honestly

Why's he such a pathetic loser. Give him to me.

MAY CALAMAWY as LAYLA EL FAOULY

moon knight fans i am. Calling!

No One Compares

Pairing: Steven Grant x F!reader

Summary: You're going to a party where Steven knows someone who has a crush on you will also be attending. Before you go, he wants to remind you what you have waiting for you at home.

Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, 18+ ONLY, oral(f) receiving, possessive thoughts/ behavior, fingering, praise, biting (Let me know if I missed anything :))

Word Count: 1.6 k

A/N: This popped into my head the other night and I needed to purge it from my system. Still getting a feel for this whole writing thing and feedback is more than welcome!!

Steven paces back and forth in front of the bathroom door, planning his next move carefully. You’re about to go out for your friend’s birthday dinner and he normally has no problem with you going out, except that he knows he’ll miss you and be a needy mess until you get back. But tonight, you’re going to your best friend Tasha's birthday dinner. He loves all your friends but there is one person he does not want you around. Tasha's brother, Jackson.

You've been friends with Tasha since you were little, and she's like a sister to you. Her brother Jackson had a small crush on you growing up and it seems his feelings have continued into adulthood. You never minded his advances, considering he never made any moves beyond harmless flirting, but what did bother you was that he didn’t back off even when you informed him you were in a relationship. He’s tame when it’s just you but when Steven is there, he turns his antics up to one hundred. It can be annoying, but you don't want to run and tattle on him to Tasha about her brother's little crush. You don't want to cause any problems, and since he never actually attempts to make a move on you, you've decided to just suck it up and deal with it, not wanting to create a big fuss.

As he stands in the hallway, Steven's mind floods with the memories of all the times Jackson has tried to make a pass at you right in front of him and he decides he needs to take action. With a huff, Steven storms into the bathroom and wraps his arm around your waist. You had just set everything out to start getting ready, and you greet him with a kiss on the cheek.

You think he will leave you be when he notices you are about to start doing your makeup, but instead he brings his hands up to your chest, grabbing both breasts and he pulls you flush against his chest. He starts kissing up and down your neck and you try to wriggle out of his grasp, knowing if you put this off any longer you are going to be late.

"Steven, what's gotten into you?" you ask, although you already know. He always gets like this when you have somewhere to go, trying to get you to stay home and hop into bed with him instead. You think he's just being needy as usual, but you have no idea this has anything to do with Jackson. Yes, you know it makes him uncomfortable when he's around, but the first time he saw how Jackson acted around you, you explained how it would cause more problems to address and was best to just try to ignore it. He accepted, understanding how you didn’t want to jeopardize your relationship with Tasha.

Your boyfriend knows you would never do anything with Jackson. You're loyal and loving and he trusts you more than anyone on Earth, and he knows you would never betray him. He also knows that you didn't actually like Jackson, but sometimes you would play along, flirting back with him a bit to try and keep things from being awkward. Steven knows it’s all fake, but even seeing you feign interest in that guy made him want to lay you down and fuck you so good you forget that any other man even exists.

He decides here and now that he needs to make sure you remember what you have waiting at home for you. He needs to be quick, though, because he doesn't want to send you to the party all hot and bothered. He knows you only ever entertain Jackson to keep the peace, but he can't help the possessive voice in the back of his head telling him he needs to show you that your boyfriend can make you feel better than anyone ever could.

"Steven I'm serious, I can't be late." He ignores you, already sliding your tight dress over your thighs and settling it on your waist. He falls to his knees, planting kisses and soft bites across your ass. He crawls under you to now face your panty covered center. You try to push him away, but he swats your hand and takes off your underwear. Loving the sight of him on his knees for you, you decide you are going to let him continue. On one condition.

"You have to be done by the time I finish my make up. Don't want to send me to dinner all worked up, do you?" you tease. Hell no. He can't let Jackson see you like that. Maybe it would leave you tempted to flirt back, just to blow off some steam. He pulls your leg over his shoulder and shoves his face between your legs.

He wastes no time teasing you, no licking up your folds, no soft kisses to your thighs. He zeros in on your clit, sucking and lapping at it like a madman. You try to steady yourself, picking up your makeup and starting to slowly apply it, keeping your hands as still as possible to avoid making a mess. You struggle to keep your eyes open as they threaten to roll back into your head, the pleasure starting to distract you from the task at hand. You start to grind your hips into his mouth and use one hand to grip the counter. You're surprised you don't fall over, but his strong grip on your thigh and ass keeps you upright. He circles your clit, and flicks his tongue back and forth, just how he knows you like it.

"Fuck Steven, you're so good at that. So fucking good." you say in that low, breathy voice that never fails to turn him on. Spurred on by your praise, his movements become more frantic, and you squeal and start panting above him.

You feel that you're right on the edge, but you pull him away, earning a frustrated grunt from him as he can tell you’re close too. You explain you have to do your eyeliner and really don’t want to blind yourself. While you do that, he starts nipping at your thighs impatiently. He had you right there, you were so close and now he’d have to build it back up. Usually, he’d go crazy about the idea of edging you, but time is of the essence.

You finish and he’s back on you in an instant. Your breathing quickly becomes ragged and you take a moment to look yourself over in the mirror. Your makeup doesn’t look terrible, just a little rushed. All that’s left is your lipstick. You take a minute to examine your lips in your reflection and you see how swollen and full they are from how you’ve been biting them. It should make the color you chose really pop. You silently thank Steven for this by reaching down to run your fingers through his curls. He gives you an appreciative whine and starts sucking harder at your sensitive bud.

You take a few deep breaths and steady your hand as best as you can as you place the applicator onto your lips. Of course, you feel that familiar tightness in your stomach and you know you're about to cum. He hears your desperate moans, and he can tell too. He slips two fingers into you and starts rubbing against that tender spot he knows drives you crazy and you cry out as you clamp down onto his fingers. The surprise intrusion causes your hand to slip and your wrist swipes across your lips, smearing the lipstick onto the corner of your mouth and your chin. You groan in frustration as the waves of pleasure rip through you and you clench down onto his fingers.

Knowing he accomplished his goal, Steven slows his movements and pulls his fingers from your dripping entrance. He wears a proud look on his face and moves his gaze to your arousal that coats his hand. He licks it off eagerly, making sure to clean up your mess. The previous frenzied nature of his touch quickly turns tender as he drags his hands up and down your sides and along your ass and thighs. He cleans you up a bit with his tongue but decides to forgo the washcloth he usually uses. He wants to send you to the party with a reminder of how he made you feel tonight.

He stands, sliding your underwear back on. You’re still gripping the counter and trying to regain composure as he takes his place back behind you and nuzzles into your neck. He chuckles as he catches a glimpse of you in the mirror. You’re clearly a wreck, but he has to admit you did a fairly good job despite the circumstances. Then, as if some switched has flipped in his brain, he latches onto your neck, making you gasp, and you feel his teeth sink into you. After a minute or so of him sucking at your skin, you feel his tongue run across it, soothing the indents he had left. He smiles, satisfied to have effectively marked his territory, and he starts applying gentle kisses instead. He hopes you don't try to cover it up. He desperately wants Jackson to catch a glimpse. Steven grins at the thought.

"You made me smudge my makeup." you whine. Since you'll have to fix it anyway, you turn your head, pulling his lips to yours. You pull back, and admire the fresh lipstick smeared across his mouth. You're tempted to drag him into the bedroom and mark up his dick with it, but you have to go. You sigh, " But I think I can forgive you. I'll reward you for being such a good boy when I get back, ok?"

What Good Girls Get

Pairing: Switch! Marc Spector x Sub!reader x Dom!Layla El-Faouly

Summary: While Layla is away, Marc wants to play. Being the good girl you are, you reject his advances and she rewards you while Marc is left to face the consequences.

Warnings: Dom/ Sub dynamics, polyamory, punishment, brat!marc, dirty talk, praise kink, degradation, rough sex, sex toys, strap-ons, squirting, oral(f) receiving, oral(m) receiving, pet names, fingering, begging, spitting, slapping, aftercare, cuddles(Let me know if I missed anything:))

Word Count: 4.5k

A/N: This is only my second fic so I'm still working on getting better at exposition and stuff but I'm actually really proud of the smut and dialogue in this one. As always, feedback is welcome and encouraged. Enjoy!!

"We shouldn't. Layla told us we can't fool around while she's gone." you whine as you lay on the bed, Marc hovering above you. His face is buried in your neck while he plants sloppy kisses across your skin. You do your best to stand your ground but make no move to try and get him off you.

"Marc, I'm serious. Did you see the look in her eyes? She really meant it. I don't know about you, but I don't want to get on her bad side. We just got off punishment for the kitchen incident." It was quite a punishment too, but to be honest you deserved it. A few days ago, Layla had gone out to get dinner while Marc graciously offered to stay behind and help you finish preparing the dessert you were making for your friend's birthday. His help soon turned into a distraction as he started grabbing at you and pulling you against him, despite your determination to focus on the task at hand.

It started with Marc innocently feeding you a few of the strawberries you were cutting up and by the time Layla returned he had you on your knees, his dick covered in whipped cream, and you eagerly cleaning it off with your tongue. She had forbidden you two to touch yourselves or one another for the rest of the week as punishment and didn't let either of you out of her sight. She knew that would lead to more trouble.

That's why when she had been called to attend an event that would require her to stay across town overnight, she was hesitant. If it were just you, she wouldn't have worried. You're always on your best behavior. Unless Marc is there. He's always the instigator. You can count on one hand all the times you've been punished for something that didn't involve Marc. You craved Layla's approval, needed her to be proud of you. Marc made that incredibly difficult, though. Despite your better judgement, you almost always gave in. He had this hold over you that made him impossible to resist. Especially when Layla isn't there and you miss her.

Marc misses her desperately when she's gone as well, and that's part of the reason he acts out. It also doesn’t help that he is a brat through and through. For him, all the rules fly out the window the moment she steps out the door. He loves to rile her up. Lately he's been pushing his luck and punishments have been getting increasingly severe. Instead of turning soft at the end like Layla has a habit of doing, especially when it comes to you, she's started implementing 'no touching rules', ruined orgasms, edging with no release, withholding pleasure, etc. He also just can't help himself when he gets you all alone. It's like a switch flips in his brain and he just wants to pounce on you. Make you misbehave like he does. He knows you're Layla's good girl and he loves to see you turn into a dirty little slut for him.

"C'mon, it's not like she just ran out to the store, she won't be home until tomorrow. There's no way she'll find out." He continues to kiss down your neck and palms at your chest, making you arch your back.

"Yes, she will. I don't know how she does it, but she can always tell."

"That's because you can't lie to save your life, baby. You know, you really need to work on your poker face." he jests, and you shoot him a glare. But you can't help the small smile that forms on your face because you know he's right. If you're ever hiding something, you distance yourself from Layla, unable to even look her in the eyes. When she finally makes you, whatever you're hiding comes spilling out of you, completely out of your control. And if it had something to do with Marc, which is usually the case, he gets in trouble as well. It's detrimental to you both.

" You really don't want to?" Marc asks. He gives you puppy dog eyes, pulling out all the stops to try and get you to give in.

"Of course, I do." You play with the hem of his shirt, trying to ignore the way you feel his bulge against your thigh.

"I just really don't want to disobey her. We don't have to wait too long; she'll be back tomorrow. And who knows, maybe she'll even reward us for being good. It's been a while." You offer, trying to convince not only him but yourself to resist the temptation.

"It's been a while for me. She rewards you all the time. It's not fair." He pouts and pinches your sides, making you giggle.

"That's because you actually have to behave for that to happen, dummy. You just have to learn to follow the rules. And tonight is the perfect opportunity to try it out." you stroke his hair reassuringly. It would do him some good to practice some restraint.

"I'll try." he says, with absolutely zero sincerity in his voice.

"How about we go watch a movie instead? She never said we couldn't cuddle." He nods, smiling at you innocently enough to convince you he has given up. You cup his face and pull it to yours, and you plant a soft kiss on the tip of his nose. He stands, helps you up, and you both head to the living room.

Marc manages to keep his hands to himself through most of the film. He has you held against him, fitting snuggly in his side. You rest your head on his shoulder, enjoying the safe and warm feeling he provides. You even start to doze off, but awaken when Marc shifts, telling you he's heading to the bathroom. In his absence, you lay your head down on the cushion. Rolling over on your stomach, you feel yourself succumb to the drowsiness again. A few minutes later, you are startled awake when you feel the couch dip, and a weight settle on your backside. You curiously turn your head to find Marc straddled across your thighs. You try to wriggle away, but he puts his full weight on your back and effectively stops you. He starts kissing and licking down the back of your neck.

“Marc, you were doing so well. Let’s just go to bed.” you plead.

“I'd love to take you to bed.” he responds, then starts softly nipping at your skin.

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.” You feel him grin against you and it sends tingles across your skin.

“C'mon it’s not like I'm going to tell. And you’ll have until tomorrow evening to get yourself together enough to face Layla. You can keep one little secret, can’t you?” You are already putty in his hands and let wanton moans fall from your lips at the warmth of his mouth on your skin and his hands grabbing at your sides.

“I want to so bad. I just… I wanna be a good girl.” you whine.

"Well, it's nice to know one of you respects me.” Layla chimes in, and you both jump, startled by her surprise entrance. Neither of you had heard her come in. You freeze, and so does the man above you. A feeling of dread falls over you but is overtaken by a feeling of delight when your eyes land on your beautiful girlfriend. She’s still wearing the outfit she wore to the event, and she looks breathtaking.

"I managed to find a way to come home early to the loves of my life and this is what I find. Did I not make myself clear before I left?" She scolds, but there is a slight playfulness to her tone.

Marc, still refusing to look at her, lifts himself into a sitting position. You glance back at him and see the look of contemplation on his face. He could play this one of two ways. He could apologize profusely and get on his hands and knees begging for forgiveness, or he could stand his ground and see how far he can push his luck. Being the brat he is, he obviously chooses the latter. Not even bothering to answer her, he flips you over and Layla rounds the coffee table to stand in front of you both. He moves his eyes to hers as he starts grabbing at you and sliding your shirt up, exposing your breasts. Layla’s silence is deadly, yet the look on her face is eerily calm.

He grabs your bare chest and starts tweaking your nipples, and you whimper at the sensation. You don’t want to upset her, but it just feels so good. You rub your thighs together trying to relieve some of the pressure building in your core.

Neither of your partners notice as both sets of eyes are locked in a stare, waiting to see what the other will do next. The mischievous grin on Marc's face makes you nervous. You know he’s playing with fire and isn’t considering the consequences. But as always, his behavior manages to stoke the flames in the pit of your stomach. You don’t know what it is, the thought of testing Layla's patience yourself never crosses your mind. But seeing her reaction when Marc does it makes you want him to keep going, even though you know he’ll pay for it later.

You grab Marc’s wrists, not even sure if it’s to stop him or urge him on and you shoot Layla a pleading look, silently begging her to do something. Marc finally looks away as he brings his mouth down to one of your breasts. He latches onto your nipple and rolls it between his teeth. You let out a squeal and squeeze your eyes shut.

“Do you want him to stop?” You don’t even hear what Layla says as Marc's other hand travels down your stomach and lands on your clothed mound.

“Look at me, angel. I asked you a question. Do you want Marc to stop?” Trying to steady your voice as his fingers slip into your underwear, dragging up and down your wet folds, you whimper, “It feels good but…but I don’t want to disobey you.” She gives you a soft smile and wears a proud look on her face, causing a warmth to bloom in your chest. She walks towards you and bends down so her face is level with yours.

As she starts petting your hair she coos, “Of course you don’t. Because you’re my good girl, aren’t you?” you preen at her words. No matter how good Marc’s touch makes you feel, nothing compares to Layla's praise. With a newfound strength and determination to prove her right, you push Marc’s hand out of your pants and shove his face away. He watches you cover your chest, making it impossible for him to continue, and he huffs.

He sits up and contemplates his next move. He was really banking on you giving in and being able to test your girlfriend's patience together. Even when he's facing punishment himself, he loves seeing you endure one too. Seeing Layla's little angel get in trouble turns him on in a way he can’t describe. But it looks like you had more willpower than he thought, and he’ll be taking this one on his own.

As a last-ditch effort, he blurts out “She started it.” You gasp, knowing that’s a bold-faced lie.

He continues, “She was on me the moment you walked out the door. But you know how irresistible she is when she begs, I couldn’t help it. I’m just doing what you would’ve done.” He leers back at her, trying to stand firm. Layla sighs, not believing him for a second. She's getting frustrated. As much as she hates it when you two break the rules, she hates when you lie about it even more. She usually lets you off easier if you come forward and tell her what really happened. You always do but Marc has the habit of dodging the truth until she drags it out of him. It’s a nasty habit that she’s determined to break, and now is the perfect opportunity.

“He’s lying! He was trying to fuck me all night! I told him you’d be mad, but he wouldn’t listen.” You match the glare he shoots you, and he grabs your thigh firmly in warning, not appreciating the outburst. But you weren’t going to roll over on this one. You had worked really hard to finally find the strength to not give in for once and you’d be damned if you went down for this with him. You want your reward for being a good girl and you aren’t going to let him ruin that.

“You believe me don’t you, Lay?” You look up at her through your lashes and give her the sweetest look you can muster up. The nickname brings a smile to her face, and she replies, “Of course I do, baby.”

“But” Marc starts, and Layla raises her brow at him, daring him to keep testing her patience. He backs down immediately, hanging his head in defeat.

“Go lay on the bed sweetheart.” She instructs and leans down, connecting her mouth with yours. Marc, enjoying the show, subconsciously starts stroking your thigh but she is quick to swat his hand away. “You, go stand at the foot of the bed. And keep your hands to yourself.” she commands, and he follows you into the bedroom, dragging his feet.

He stands in front of you now, arms crossed in annoyance, and you smirk at him. “Thanks a lot.” he sneers.

“Hey, I said to be patient and we’d get rewarded. Maybe this will teach you a lesson.” you say smugly, and he rolls his eyes.

Layla enters, grabbing the chair from the desk and placing it in front of the bed. She makes Marc strip. She then ties up his hands and orders him to sit but leaves him unrestrained otherwise. She removes her jacket and proceeds to strip you, softly caressing your sides as she does, and your skin heats up under her touch. Shifting you, she lays you at the end of the bed, parallel to the headboard, and gives Marc a full view of her body and yours. Normally he'd be thankful but under these circumstances it's torturous.

She makes her way down your body, nipping and sucking at your skin. She's always thorough, taking the time to admire every inch of you. After leaving your stomach and thighs covered in love bites, and running her tongue over your marked skin, she buries her head between your thighs. She's gentle and diligent but she doesn't rush. Doesn't eat you out in a frenzy like Marc tends to do. She knows your body better than you do and knows just what to do to have you fall apart on her tongue.

She has to hold your waist down as you writhe on the bed. Your sultry moans and desperate cries have Marc involuntarily bucking his hips into the air, begging for relief. Before you know it, she has you cumming hard and you grind your hips against her mouth as she sucks on your clit, helping you ride the waves of pleasure. Giving you a second to catch your breath, she then positions you on the edge of the bed, exposing you to Marc, and takes her place behind you. She wraps her legs around yours and uses them to spread your thighs. Her movements begin slow, like before, and she starts by gently circle your clit with her fingers. The torturous speed has you crying out for more. Wanting to give you whatever your heart desires, she dips her fingers into you. They slip in easily, and each delicious drag of her digits against your walls has you bucking your hips against her hand.

Your arousal starts to form a ring around her fingers and drips onto the floor. The sight has Marc falling to his knees in front of you, face nearing your center. Layla gives him a warning look, but she can feel you getting close, so she doesn’t want to stop. Then she gets an idea. She pushes faster against that sweet spot inside you and matches that rhythm as she starts rubbing your swollen bud. Mesmerized by the sight, Marc leans his head against your thigh.

“No touching.” Layla commands and he nods. He doesn’t move any closer, practicing more restraint than he ever has in his life. She starts nipping at that spot under your ear and it has you squirming. You feel that familiar pressure building that you didn’t feel with your previous climax and smile, realizing what’s about to happen, and your whole body tenses. “I'm cumming” is all you can say before you start spasming and you explode all over his face. Marc flinches slightly at the unexpected splash of your arousal. It just keeps streaming out of you and he quickly opens his mouth wide, groaning as your sweet nectar coats his tongue. He gives Layla a pleading look, and she knows what he wants.

“You can clean off her thighs.” she says, loving the hungry look on his face. He laps at your drenched thighs and savors the taste that he's been dying for all night. You let out a satisfied purr and you eyes fall closed, feeling soothed by the warmth of his tongue. When he's finished, he takes a moment and just stares at your sex. Before he can stop himself, he lurches forward to indulge in your arousal from the source. Before he can reach you, though, Layla yanks his head back by his hair, clicking her tongue at him.

“Still don’t want to listen, huh?” She moves from behind you and drags him back to the chair. You already miss her warmth, but your excitement grows as she goes to open the trunk you keep on the corner of the room and pulls out some rope and a harness with the familiar pink silicone attached to the base. Your heart starts beating faster and you bite your lip, thrumming with excitement at what’s coming next. She inches the chair closer to the bed, and Marc is now just inches away. She ties him to the chair now, ignoring his grumbling. With her guidance, you are now on your hands and knees, head halfway off the end of the bed, now face to face with Marc. As Layla puts on the strap-on, you can’t help but smile at the pout on his face. You've never seen him this frustrated before and you would feel bad for him if it didn't turn you on so much.

Your girlfriend situates herself behind you, kissing up your spine, and you pull her up so her mouth meets yours and you moan at the saccharine taste of her. When she breaks the connection, her mouth finds your ear and she whispers, “You’re doing so good for me. My obedient girl.” The comment makes your heart swell. You hum, looking her in the eyes, and whisper “I love you.” She nuzzles her face against yours she affectionately replies, “I love you too, angel."

She sits back onto her haunches and rubs the silicone up and down your folds, each flick against your clit making your breath hitch. As she slides the length in to the hilt, you cry out and she sets a maddeningly slow pace. You're about to beg for more, but she already knows what you want. She slowly pulls out to the tip and then slams back into you, and begins giving you those hard, deep thrusts you crave.

After a while, your arms give out underneath you and you fall onto your chest. The arch of your back gives her a delicious view of your ass and she gives it a quick slap. You whine for more and she continues, landing multiple hits to both your cheeks and thighs and you squeal in delight. When she's done, she grabs firmly onto your hip with one hand and the other comes up to settle on the back of your neck and she pulls you back to meet her thrusts.

With your face now just inches away from Marc, you stick your tongue out, unable to resist the temptation to taunt him. It's a pretty juvenile thing to do, you admit, and can’t help the giggle you let out at the sight of the frustration bubbling up inside him, the aggravation showing clear as day on his face. Before you can pull your tongue back in your mouth, he leans forward and spits fast and hard, some landing in your open mouth, and some on your cheek. You gasp, but your surprise quickly morphs into a pathetic whine, loving the taste of him. You drag your tongue over your lips and the surrounding area, trying to get to the spatter that missed your mouth. A satisfied smirk appears on his face, and he mutters, "filthy fucking slut." You whine at his words, and it has you clenching down onto the silicone filling your cunt.

Layla, however, was not amused. She shoves your face down onto the mattress and leans over you to deliver a harsh slap to Marc's face. He moans at the contact, relieved to finally get some sort of stimulation. Before the sting can even settle over his skin, she delivers another. Then, she removes her weight from you and pulls your head up once more.

“That wasn’t very nice, was it baby?” You don’t respond, honestly wishing he'd do it again.

“Oh, you liked it didn’t you, naughty little thing.” You moan at her teasing and look Marc in the eyes, whining, "I want something in my mouth.”

He jolts forward, wanting to break free and give you what you want. An anticipative look crosses his face, and he hopes Layla will make him part of your reward.

“Oh, I'm sorry baby. Here you go.” Determined to keep Marc out of this, Layla hooks her fingers into your mouth. She chuckles at Marc's reaction as she sees his shoulders slump, clearly disappointed. You immediately wrap your lips around her digits and he zeros in on your movements, imagining it was him in your mouth instead.

Her thrusts become more brutal, each one knocking the thoughts right out of your head. You feel yourself mentally slipping, unable to form even one coherent sentence. All you can do is babble nonsense, hoping she understands how close you are to your release. Layla drags your head up by your hair and you face Marc again, mouth open and drooling down into the sheets. He's seen that look before and he knows you're right on the edge. He looks you right in the eyes and whispers, " Do it, baby. Cum." He's not even sure you heard him, but your eyes immediately roll to the back of your head, and you start shaking. Layla holds you against her, knowing you love the closeness and skin to skin contact when you fall apart. All you can feel is white hot pleasure and you're crying out, mouth open in a silent scream as you gasp for breath. You don't even have time to come down from your climax before Layla starts pounding into you again, hard and fast. She holds you down, making you cum again and again.

When she can tell you've had enough, she stops her movements but stays planted inside you to the hilt, knowing you don’t want to feel empty just yet. She runs her hands all over you, trying to bring you back to her and help steady your breathing. You can't tell how much time has passed but when you're finally conscious of your surroundings again, the first thing you see is Marc's pitiful form in front of you. You want to help him. His angry red tip looks painful, and you actually start to feel bad for him. You somehow muster up the strength to reach an arm out to him and he looks at you lovingly. You were just fucked into oblivion, but you still want to make sure he feels good. It makes him smile and he desperately wants to pull you into his arms.

“Can I touch him, please?” You look over your shoulder and give Layla your best puppy dog eyes, hoping she'll cave like she always does when you look at her like that. She arches her brow at you and asks, “Am I not enough, sweetheart?”

“No! You are!” you reply frantically, immediately regretting your words. You continue, “Just look at him. So pathetic. I think he's learned his lesson.” He's been waiting so long and he’s so frustrated he can feel tears starting to form in his eyes. “Please. I'm so sorry. I'll behave. I promise." he begs.

She sighs, feeling conflicted. She knows she has pushed him hard but he did deserve it. She feels herself turning soft at that needy look in his eyes and concedes. She knows what he really wants. He wants one of you to ride him until he sees stars. This is still a punishment, however, so she decides to give him another form of relief.

Leaning down and kissing the crown on your head, she checks in, making sure you're not too overworked. She really gave it to you hard and wants to make sure you don't overdo it. "Are you sure? You look a little worn out." You're touched by her concern but nod eagerly.

"Go ahead baby. He can have your mouth." The sigh of relief that leaves Marc makes you want to laugh. You turn back to him, and your outstretched hand moves to caress his face. He leans into your touch, and kisses at the palm of your hand. You slide it down off his face and Layla helps you to your knees. He makes the most pitiful noise when you take him into your mouth, finally feeling the relief he's waited hours for. You have him cumming in just a few minutes and he thanks both of you profusely.

You're all exhausted, but that doesn't stop them from loving on you. Layla goes to draw a bath while Marc picks you up off the floor, placing soft kisses all over your face. He carries you to the bathroom, where Layla begins to do the same as Marc places you in the tub. The feeling of their love wraps you like a warm blanket, relaxing your mind as the bath water relaxes your tired muscles. You're half asleep when you all finally pile into bed, cuddling up close to one another. Layla lays you in the middle of them the middle and they wrap their arms around you and each other. Not having the energy tonight, you and Marc will be sure to give her a proper 'welcome home' in the morning.

Give Me What I want

Pairing: Steven Grant x F!reader

Summary: Steven acts like a brat all day, leading to a much deserved punishment. Left unsatisfied, Steven decides take what he wants.

Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, 18+ ONLY, no use of y/n, Dom/ Sub dynamics, Brat/Needy Steven, teasing, face-sitting, punishment, dirty talk, degradation, hair pulling, cnc (kind of??),unprotected p in v, creampie (Let me know if I missed anything :))

Word Count: 2.2k

A/N: Not only is this the first piece of smut I've ever written but also my first try at writing a fic in general so I would love some feedback. I definitely need some more practice but I really enjoyed writing this so I hope you enjoy it as well :)

There are so many things about Steven that you admire. His intelligence, his kindness, his generosity, how passionate he is. The list goes on forever, but there is one trait that Steven does not possess, however, and that is patience. He doesn't have it in his everyday life, and he seriously struggles with it in the bedroom. On days when Steven is really needy, and he can't have you or you make him wait, he becomes like a whiny child, pushing your buttons until he gets what he wants.

Today was one of those days. Steven was having a rough day at work and all he wanted was to see you and he couldn't. So, when he came home, he was already in a funk, immediately grabbing at you and demanding your full attention. Unfortunately, you had an appointment you absolutely could not miss. But you assured him that once you got home you would take care of him, knowing his day left him stressed and in need of some love.

This offer did little to quell his frustration and he begged you to let him come with. You explained to him that he would be bored out of his mind and that it'd be better for him to stay here and distract himself, but he wouldn't listen. So, the entire car ride there he was trying to grab at you, complaining about not being close enough and when you scolded him, he would huff and pout, then quickly resume his antics. He didn't stop even after you had both returned home and were eating the takeout you grabbed on your way back.

"Stop it Steven, I'm serious. Let me eat. I know you haven't eaten today either so please, finish your food."

And he gives you that look that he is constantly giving you, his eyes glaring and his lips pouting. It's usually endearing but you had reached the end of your rope with him today and were starting to get annoyed.

"What are you, my mother?" he mumbles as he looks back down at his plate. You're not sure if he meant for you to hear that but you definitely did.

"Excuse me?"

"C'mon, I'm not hungry. You know what I want. Now give it to me." He adds a quick 'please' after he sees the look on your face.

He knows he's pushing his luck, but he hopes you'll understand his situation and let it slide. But you had had enough. He had been whining and complaining all evening and gave you attitude each time you called him out on it. You had planned to spend the evening taking care of him, showering him with love and affection while you you ride him until he can't think straight, the way you know always helps him relax, but now you've decided he needs to learn to control himself.

" You need an attitude adjustment. Clean up the plates and go lay on the bed." You toss your fork down and head into the bedroom. He knows what's coming so he drags on in the kitchen, slamming the dishes in the sink and basically throwing a fit. Once he enters, knowing what you expected from him, he takes off his clothes and lays down. You slide the rope onto each of his wrists and tie them individually to each bed post. You do the same to his ankles. You sit in front him on the bed, having discarded your clothes as well.

"You need to learn some patience. I was going to be so sweet to you tonight. What a shame." You drag your nails softly up his thighs and continue up his stomach, not even coming close to his hardening member. He huffs, having already reached his limit and his frustration was becoming overwhelming. If you look close enough you could almost see some tears welling in his eyes. He wants so badly to feel the warmth of your hand squeeze him and relieve the ache between his legs. But you continue your slow, feather light touches up and down his body, avoiding his favorite areas on purpose.

You hadn't even given him a kiss yet. As your face hovers over his, pulling back as he tries to chase your lips, a growl emanates from deep within his chest.

" I've held on long enough. Give it to me." He demanded. No 'please' this time, in fact no pleading in his voice at all. This was supposed to be a punishment for the attitude he was giving you earlier and he clearly hadn't fixed it.

"Tsk tsk tsk…that mouth of yours. I'm tired of hearing it." You climb up him, moving to hover over his face.

"Let's put it to good use." As you go to lower yourself onto his mouth you hear, "Took you long enough…" mumbled from beneath you, his warm breath fanning over your thighs.

Even now he still wants to talk back. An idea pops into your head and you quickly turn around so you're facing the other way. Before he can ask what you're doing, you drop yourself down onto his mouth, muffling him. You let out a satisfied sigh.

"Finally, found a way to shut you up." You slowly start to grind against his mouth, loving the fact that he went right for your clit. You feel him hum against you, sending a vibration straight to your core. He pulls on his restraints, wanting desperately to touch you. No way in hell was that happening, not after everything he's done. He's lucky you don't just leave him tied to the bed to suffer with nothing.

You decide this isn't punishment enough, he's clearly enjoying it, seeing as he's still hard. You lean forward and he grunts, assuming you're going to take him in your mouth. Instead, you dig your nails into his thighs and spit right on his dick. Hard and fast. He groans into you, and you do it again, this time letting it fall onto his tip slowly and it dribbles down onto his stomach.

He starts lapping at you faster, making you whimper as you grow closer to your release. He bucks his hips up into the air as much as he can with his ankles tied down, silently begging for any sort of stimulation. You alternate between scratching and biting around his thighs and lower stomach, making sure to reach everywhere except the one place Steven wants most.

Just as you're about to cum, you pull yourself fully upright grabbing onto his hair, riding his face through the waves of pleasure. Then, too soon for Steven's liking, you lift off him and make your way around the bed and untie him.

"You can finish yourself off." you say without even looking back at him and head to the bathroom to grab a wet washcloth to clean him off when he's finished.

You hear nothing but the sound of running water, finding it a bit odd with the absence of his usual desperate whimpers and moans. Fixing your hair in the mirror, you turn to leave and head back to the bedroom. But just as you enter the hall, you feel a body push you hard against the wall, holding you by the shoulders. You let out a startled gasp as you look up and see Steven with a feral look in his eyes.

"That wasn't very nice." He snarls, eyes going back and forth between your eyes and your lips.

"You were misbehaving all day, Steven. You needed to be punished. Now let me go or I'll bend you over the bed and spank your ass raw." You threaten, although your ragged breathing drowns out the edge to your voice that you're trying to maintain.

"You're going to give me what I want." he says with such a sense of entitlement that you curse yourself for getting turned on by it.

You don't respond, deciding you're going to let him take it. You guys had sat down to talk a while ago and decided to implement a sort of 'take what you want when you want' agreement. Up until now, Steven had avoided taking advantage of it when you were in a more dominant mood, knowing him making a move on you or touching without permission almost always ended in a punishment. But for whatever reason Steven decides in this moment he simply doesn't care. He wants to be inside you so he's going to, despite what consequences he may face later. You also both have a safe word, so you know that the second you said it he'd immediately back off.

But you had no intention of using it. As much as his attitude and disobedience could sometimes frustrate you, the way he's acting right now has your cunt dripping wet. You don't let it show on your face though, still wanting him to know he's breaking the rules, but he takes your silence as a go ahead. He flips you around and presses your chest up against the wall as he holds you close to him, pushing himself inside you in one quick motion.

He slips in easily and starts rocking back and forth, thrusts already sloppy from how worked up you got him earlier. He grunts into your ear, and his shoulders relax at the relief he's been waiting for all day. You let out some wanton moans of your own but try to suppress them the best you can. You want Steven to know that he has made the conscious decision to make this about him and his carnal needs only. It's hard though, as the thought of him using you to get off stokes the fire in the pit of your stomach.

You start to feel your legs weaken underneath you. He notices, and pulls you away from the wall and drags you to the floor. With his chest is flush to your back, he grinds into you with short but incredibly deep thrusts. Your eyes roll into the back of your head and he whines into your shoulder.

"God, you're so warm. I was thinking about this all day. Having to excuse myself multiple times just to try and get myself under control. Didn't want people to know how worked up I was just at the thought of you." He licks a strip up your neck, savoring the taste of you.

"I swear, there were points in the day I even thought I smelled you. That sweet scent you give off seems stuck in my brain, love. It made me lightheaded, didn't hear a single thing anyone was saying to me." His face remains cradled in your neck as he takes deep breaths in, finally getting a whiff of the real thing. As he takes you all in, he's invading your senses as well, making it impossible to silence your grunts and moans anymore. Your breathing has become uneven and each thrust punches a small whimper out of you.

"Fuck, I'm so close, love." He feels each time you squeeze around him, making it hard for him to hold on any longer.

He tries chasing his release, but he's missing your usual words of praise. There is no 'Good boy' or 'you're doing so well for me Steven' which usually leads to his undoing.

You sense this, but instead of giving it to him you turn your head and yank his hair. Now face to face, you grunt, "You think you can just take whatever you want? You're such a desperate whore. Can't even take your punishment without complaint, selfish brat. You're a bad boy, Steven. A bad boy." Your words are followed by a sharp inhale as you feel the coil in your stomach about to snap.

Your degrading words and the pressure of you tugging on his curls launches him over the edge. His movements become frantic, and he moans into your ear with a sob, spilling into you. He feels incredibly deep at this angle and the desperation in his movements brings you to your release.

You clench down hard onto him. His moans turn to whines from the overstimulation, but he waited so long for this he doesn’t want to stop. So, he lays there on top of you, jolting into you every so often as you both experience the aftershocks of your peaks.

When he finally pulls out, and you both sigh. He leans back on his haunches, still trying to steady his breathing. Once you recover, you turn to face him as a small smile appears on his face. He thanks you over and over, clearly thinking that he had received a proper punishment and that he was in the clear. He crawls over to you, and you pull him in, planting a soft kiss on his lips before pulling back quickly and standing up, much to his dismay.

"I hope you enjoyed it, because you're not touching me for a week. Not after that little charade." His face falls, and you smirk, hopefully that will teach him a lesson. Although you had thoroughly enjoyed it, he still disobeyed you. And to be honest, you wouldn't mind seeing him that desperate for you again.

Leaving him speechless, you head to the bathroom to draw him a bath.

My Dear Birdie

Summary: Anselm Vogelweide is charmed by you and his strangeness turns you on

Contents: 🔥 18+ nsfw and very smutty, sex w/ humor, sex toys, exhibitionism, mention of drugs, p in v, butt stuff, food stuff (~2.8k)

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It had begun as a joke. A friend of a friend had said, "do you want to meet the weirdest guy that anyone has ever met. Ever?"

"Yes?" You'd said.

And that's how you'd entered Anselm Vogelweide’s social sphere. 

And he was as advertised. Old-fashioned suits and way of speaking, unnecessarily old leg brace and glasses. His dark black and gray hair parted neatly, but still a bit wild, and a beard that moved as much as his lips when he talked. Surrounded by a group of people that, well, it was hard to say if some of them were even human people.

Despite the affectations, he was devastatingly handsome to you and had a magnetism you hadn’t known existed.

"But you are so delicate," he had said with a smile as you'd shaken his hand for the first time. "My dear little birdie."

"Says a guy with Vogel in his last name," you'd mumbled.

He held your hand, put his other on top of it, gently stroking your skin. "My dear birdie, might you know anything about crime?"

You tried to remember to ask your friend, how their friend, had come to know this insanely rich oddball. He was clearly up to no fucking good.

You looked at Anselm, trying to focus on the one, clear lens of his glasses. "Oh sure I majored in organized crime. Minor in destruction of evidence."

Anselm laughed. A strange, rusty sound. "Oh, dear birdie, you are very naughty."

And that had made you laugh.

He'd invited you to keep him company the next weekend. You’d been visiting him for almost a year off and on.

His library was like something out of a dream; huge illustrated botany books, German fairy tales with gold leaf embossing, careful notes in the margins of several editions of Anna Karenina, and shelves and shelves of very dirty, very specific books. 

Like you'd read one where a seven-dicked God had been tricked into impregnating an entire harem of beautiful, soft-skinned, half-plant women with three or four breasts each. And it had drawings.

There was something about Anselm. He’d never made a move on you, though you knew he had women or men brought to the estate sometimes.

He stared at you whenever you were in the room. You could tell by the way his eyes watched you that the man knew his way around someone else's body. Yours was born female, but you knew it made no difference to him. He liked you.

Maybe it was because of the accident he never talked about. His own body didn’t work so well. Not that you’d thought about how his body worked. Ahem

The skin on the left half of his body was scarred and made it difficult for him to hear from that side. Every once in awhile, his breathing got away from him.

He wore a creaky leg brace and once, when one of his lackeys had suggested he should use a cane, Anselm had shot the guy in the leg.

“Now you need one,” he’d said dryly.

It shouldn’t have been normal to watch something like that, but Anselm had no interest in normal. And you found that, surprisingly, you didn’t either.

“Dear birdie, come bend over my desk,” he says to you one evening as you sit on the sofa in his study, reading. His words are slowly drawn out, his strange accent turning his cadence warm and intimate.

“What?” You look over at him. He’d just finished a drink and had made the request as if it was something you did all the time instead of completely out of left field.

“Don’t you think it’s time that we stop being so patient with each other? I have been fucking women who look like you for three months now. It is not satisfying anymore. I must, I must, have the real thing.”

You close the book and lay it on the couch. You look across from you, to where Anselm’s third cousin is sitting, pretending not to listen, and one of Anselm’s bodyguards is looking at the exchange with interest.

“Anselm, can we be alone?” You say as you stand.

He flicks his fingers at the sofa and the two other men leave as you approach Anselm’s desk. He strokes his beard, taking in your figure with a deep inhale.

“Bend over the edge of my desk and let me bury myself in you.“

“Whoa, Anselm,” you hold up your hand, “what brought all of this on? We’ve known each other for months now. I kind of assumed you weren’t interested in fucking me.”

He tut-tuts you with his tongue, one finger wagging back and forth at you. “Fucking is fucking, dear birdie. But with you, I had to be patient. I have not gotten to where I am in life by refusing to put in a little effort.”

“Living proof that crime does pay, sometimes.”

He ignores you and continues. “And I have put in so much effort for you, for one so small in stature. You have noticed my gestures. And I have noticed that you have noticed. I have seen your eyes stroking my cock, you naughty thing. You shouldn’t tease.” He pats the leather top of his desk.

“Okay, I have been doing that, yeah,” you say.

“I treasure your honesty. And you. Not only your mind, but I’m sure, also your body.”

You’d never thought of your body in any particular way. In fact, it had been awhile since you’d been with anyone. You’d been busy. And here was Anselm, with his strange praise and alluring invitation.

You walk around his desk and, still sitting, he pulls you in closer, stroking your shoulders and arms, down your legs, before turning you by the hips to face his desk. You bend over prettily for him and grip the far edge. He sighs as if he can finally relax. You hear his chair scrape as he positions it directly behind you.

“You are a comfort to me,” he says as he unbuttons your jeans and pulls them down carefully with your underwear.

“Thank you,” you say quietly. “I’ve really enjoyed spending time with you.”

“I will not be offended that you sound so surprised.”

You shrug.

“Look at you. Perfection. You smell of sex.” You feel his breath between your legs as he talks, a slight brush of his soft beard. “Let me clean you with my tongue.”

He uses his fingers to pull the lips of your cunt apart and he wastes no time diving in, tongue-first, moaning. You feel the cold of his glasses press against the flesh of your ass as he digs his tongue as far as it can go, his beard lighting up every nerve ending you have. He swirls his tongue around and around, before sucking gently while tonguing your hole, his thumb working back the hood of your clit to make you hiss and squirm.

“Anselm,” you say.

“Be still,” he says, giving your ass a firm pat. His thumb grazes over your asshole. “May I?”

A knock at the door jolts you, but Anselm holds you firmly with his hands.

“Business, dear birdie,” he says. “Do you mind?”

He licks you again, from your clit all the way back to your rim, the tip of his tongue playfully poking at your hole.

“I don’t mind,” you say.

“Come in,” Anselm yells loudly. “Be quick or I will shoot you,” he tells the butler who comes in.

The man sets down a silver tray stacked with strapped cash. A cookie on a white linen napkin is perched on top. The butler is straight-faced and he’s probably seen much stranger while working in Anselm’s household. 

“Ah, yes, my winnings,” Anselm says, mouth still between your legs, making you squirm, “but take the cookie with you. Chocolate chip cookies do not go with beautifully wet cunt.” He lifts his head long enough to yell at the butler. “GET THE FUCK OUT. No one has any respect for my time,” he says to you, through your pussy.

You’re having trouble catching your breath. Anselm’s lips and tongue are sucking and teasing you like you are his last meal on Earth. Even though a butler you’ve only seen a few times was just watching you get eaten out, you’re coming. Hard. Your fingers dig into the edge of his desk, thighs shaking, throat burning from moaning so loudly. Your brain goes completely white as pleasure seizes your muscles.

Anselm is just lapping and licking at you, humming over every drop you give him, licking down your thighs to catch anything he’s missed.

Finally, once your lungs actually work again and your body has relaxed over his desk, even though your hips are digging into the wooden edge, he sits back in his chair.

He gently taps your legs aside so he can open the top drawer of his desk. He shuffles around in it for a bit before closing it and standing, leaning his body over yours to show you what he’s retrieved.

“I would like to put this in your ass while I fuck you,” he says.

You narrow your eyes at it. “Is that a dildo made of wood?”

“It’s an antique,” he says delightedly, running his fingers over the carved ridges of its length. 

Your eyes shift to his face and you just barely resist making a joke that would surely have pissed him off.

He frowns. “Cold in here. I shall warm it for you.” 

He rolls it between the palms of his hands and you have to bite your top lip to keep from laughing.

“This is one that I enjoy myself immensely,” he says. “There is no craftsmanship in sex toys these days. Mass produced intimacy. I’ve already had a custom harness sent from Italy to restrain you in. I’m sure it will fit. I’m very good with visual weights and measurements. You know, I made most of my early money in cocaine.”

He reaches back into the drawer for a bottle of lube and coats the wooden length liberally, using what’s left on his hands to tease you and make sure you’re ready for him.

Anselm looks at your holes. “Perhaps I should do this the other way around,” he looks at the dildo. “No, next time.”

He rests the tip of the dildo at your asshole. You nod your permission. 

As he pushes the dildo slowly into you, working it past your initial resistance and then letting it sink in completely, he moans just as deeply as you do. You hear him undo his belt and pants. Another metallic sound that you assume is dispatching with his brace, which you’re grateful for because if he creaked as he fucked you, you didn’t know if you’d be able to come again. 

Or maybe, you’d have a hard time without it now that you’d thought of it. Next time, as Anselm had said.

He runs the searing hot length of his cock along your inner thighs, which is a kindness because if he’d gone straight to shoving it inside of you, you might have fallen asleep waiting for him to get balls deep. No wonder he felt the freedom to be so strange. He’s filthy rich and has a dick the size of your forearm.

Anselm is slow and steady as you tense, then remember to relax, then clench around him as he fills you, relaxing again so the head of his cock can shove your walls open for the rest of him to slide inside. He’s so thick that the edges of your little hole sting and burn around him, but it only adds to how good he feels inside of you.

You’re brainless before he gets even halfway. He shifts you forward, your feet leaving the ground so you’re laying, bent over, completely at his mercy. Anselm lifts you up enough to slide one of his hands under your sweater and palm your breast. His other hand hooks over your face, two of his fingers sliding into your mouth, cradling against the inside of your cheek to better pull you against him. But gently, everything strangely gentle.

“You are a big girl and can tell me if you have had enough, yes?” He whispers into your ear. “You need only ask me to stop. I will give you the cookie that imbecile left here in my office and you can be on your way.”

You swallow the spit that has gathered in your mouth. “Don’t stop,” you say around Anselm’s fingers. 

He kisses your cheek and rolls his hips forward, giving you the rest of him and knocking every single molecule of air out of your lungs. In fact, you were pretty sure his dick was up there somewhere resting against your sternum. The wooden dildo in your ass ensures that your entire body feels snug and tight around him. So full and so good.

You hold tight onto the edges of Anselm’s desk, trying to push back for more, or at least hold still enough to encourage him to fuck you harder. And then he withdraws slightly, and more, and back in and good lord, feeling this much pleasure was going to do permanent brain damage.

Drool drips out of you where his fingers are inside of your mouth. It drips down your chin and onto his desk. Your eyes are rolled back in your head and you are grunting like an animal as he starts pounding into you, praising how soft and tight you are, how the sound of your wet hole is a symphony he’s going to record and play as he sleeps at night, how he wants to hear your moans in every room of the mansion, how he wants to eat his meals from the space between your breasts, how he wants to put a candle in your asshole and light it because it’s his birthday soon, and to tell him what you would want for your birthday next year. He hoped it was More.Of.This. His words punctuated by his sharp thrusts.

And you think you agree to everything because your cunt is squeezing around him like his dick is pure electricity, overstimulating your nerves and spasming your entire body. You can’t even speak, but you do love hearing how filthy he’s going to make you be for him.

God, is that wet sound echoing through the room you? It is. And Anselm is right. You want to record it and hear it too. So you can come in your sleep to dreams of him fucking his enormous cock into you just like this.

Anselm slows his hips, pushing up your sweater to below your breasts. He lays a hand gently on your lower back. You turn your head to look at him. He has a look on his face you’ve never seen. It isn’t tolerance or fondness, or his usual huffy impatience, or even the look of appreciation he has for your witty quips or when you wear a particular outfit he likes. Anselm is looking at you softly, with love.

“Please, let me finish on your beautiful skin,” he asks, beard moving in a way that tells you his lips are trembling slightly.

You almost come again as he pulls out, your walls sucking on the head of his cock like your body doesn’t want him to ever leave. He rests himself along your lower back.

Anselm starts to work the dildo in and out of your asshole as you feel him use his hand to pull himself toward orgasm. He works the dildo faster and you come again, clenching around the ridges carved into the wood, cunt squeezing tightly on nothing but your own skin and wetness. Anselm groans loudly and you feel him coming messily all over you before letting a pool of his cum gather in the dip of your lower back.

He runs his hand over your hair, taking in a deep breath as you blink and try to get your eyes to focus again. 

Anselm reaches over toward the stack of money still on his desk and takes the cookie off the top. You hear him take a bite of it and chew. You rest your head, not sure if you’ll have the energy to move your body ever again.

A scratching sensation drags through the cum on your back. Anselm clears his throat and leans forward to present you with the other half of the chocolate chip cookie, slightly shiny around the edges. You lean forward and he feeds it to you, wiping the outer corner of your mouth with his thumb.

It’s the best thing you’ve ever tasted in your entire life.

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Leave It On- a continuation of My Dear Birdie

Bite Me

Pairing: Steven Grant x fem reader

Summary: You and Steven wanted to go to a Halloween party, but your costume makes you both a little distracted.

Rating: 18+, smut

Warnings/Content: reader talks about sucking his blood in a kinky vampire way but idk the name of it, mommy kink, odaxelagnia, chubby reader, jealous and desperate Steven, nipple play, boobjob, fingering, drunkenness (just some word slurring), p in v, unmentioned protected sex, small bit of fluff, creampie, lmk if there's anything else I should add :).

Word count: 2,771

Credit: @automnepoet for proofreading ily.

…………………………………………….......................

"Wow, you look amazing!"

Steven stares at you with wide eyes, a big smile spread across his face and making his eyes crinkle at the corners in that adorably charming way.

You'd both agreed to dress up as a vampire couple for Steven's Halloween party at work, and you'd picked a particularly beautiful dress that admittedly shows off your best assets… maybe more than you'd expected.

"Yeah? I was a little worried about this area–" you gesture towards your tummy. "–but as long as you think I look ok, then I'm happy." The wrinkles in your dress spread out as you run your hands over your stomach.

"No no, you look beautiful, love!" He stands and walks towards your position in the doorway, running his hands over your arms with his soft fingertips while the smile stays plastered on his face. "Quite frankly, I feel like I'm a bit underdressed now." His giggle makes you smile, and you bring your hands up to his cheeks. "You still look handsome, baby, my handsome vampire husband."

Your nose bumps his as you lean forward, brushing your lips just barely over his. The fake fangs make cute little bumps under his top lip, giving him a cat-like look, not to mention a bit of a lisp.

"Are you… uhm… Are you gonna bring a coat, though?" 

As you pull away, you notice your boyfriend's eyes have moved from being in awe of your make-up, down to the exposed part of your chest. The dress is a little tighter than you'd seen online, so your boobs are spilling out, making it easy for a "happy accident" to happen.

A chuckle leaves your lips and you snake your arms around Steven's neck.

"Why? Are you getting jealous?" There's a flirtatious tone in your voice.

"No, of course not. I just don't want you getting cold!"

"Bullshit." You giggle and pat his chest, leaning towards his lips again enough to feel his breath hitch. 

"Aaaalright. Yes, I'm jealous." He huffs and leans forward to close the gap between your lips for a brief moment. "Can you blame me? You're all on show and you look bloody amazing…" You feel him press against you a little, and notice the bulge growing in his pants against your thigh as he noses your neck and the plastic fangs tickle your skin. 

"Well... we have a little time before the party, right?" You trail your hand up and down his back to feel the muscles tense under the thin fabric of his cheap halloween costume, his curls bouncing against your skin with a nod.

"We can do a little roleplay, would you like that, sweetheart?" 

A whimper from Steven raises goosebumps on the back of your neck.  Your hand travels up to the back of his head to grab a fistful of brown locks, making the man tilt his head back with a wail. 

"My poor helpless victim…" You purr, part of your tone being sarcastic incase he doesn't like it, but the soft whimper that sneaks past his lips has you regain your confidence and butterflies flutter in your groin. "I won't drain you just yet, just gonna have a taste," you kiss his neck affectionately. "Then I can have some fun."

The years of watching vampire films is seemingly paying off as you feel your boyfriend turn to jelly in your hands, giving in easier than you'd ever expect; maybe this was the real reason he'd suggested it, because ever since he'd seen Elvira on the TV, he'd wanted a 'vampire mommy' of his own.

Slowly, you lean closer to his neck, taking in the soft and sweet smell of his cologne as if you're really taking a whiff of your favourite meal. He seems to be shrinking smaller and smaller in your grasp as you graze the teeth over his neck to dance along the nerves there, before you poke your tongue out and lick a long strip up from the beating pulse on his neck to his ear.

Steven stumbles forward and puts his hands out to balance himself on the wall, leaning over you. With his (or more so Marc's) height and build, he could easily overpower you and throw you on the bed to fuck you into oblivion, but instead he has to use the wall to steady himself as you slowly tease his silly little vampire fetish, pulling it inch by inch out of him till he's panting softly and his legs are squeezed together.

"God, this is embarrassing, can't believe I'm getting so worked up over noTHING–"

You stop his complaining by finally pressing your mouth against his pulse and digging the fangs in as far as possible. Of course, they're simply blunt plastic and barely graze the surface, but the noises that Steven lets out would make you think you'd squeezed the tip of his cock unbearably good.

"Please… please please, mommy." He moans out, rolling his hips desperately against your thigh as he struggles to keep himself stood up.

"Go sit on the edge of the bed baby, I know something you'll enjoy." 

You'd think the man is an adult virgin with the way he scrambles towards the bed and sits on the edge eagerly, undoing the top two buttons of his costume to let his flushed cheeks and skin cool down. 

Swaying your hips a little,you saunter towards your boyfriend and hover over him just to see those pretty puppy dog eyes. "Good boy, what a precious little look you've got. A perfect piece of meat for me." 

Honestly, you're not even sure where this is coming from at this point, maybe Steven's tapped into some morbid kink that you had locked away deep down in the pits of your belly; either way, you're both enjoying it. 

"For you, mommy." 

You pat his cheek, if a little condescendingly, before sinking down onto your knees and parting the man's legs, his thick thighs bulging through the thin fabric and making your mouth water a little as if you're really going to take a chunk out of his flesh.

Instead, you work his trousers open to pull his poor neglected cock out, teasing the tip in a way that has Steven squirming and his brows raising pathetically. "God..." he murmurs desperately.

You leave his cock for a minute as you pull down the front of your dress, your tits spilling out at the freedom from the constraints as your nipples harden with the cold air suddenly hitting them. 

"Oh please, let me suck them." Steven's bottom lip sticks out pathetically, dents being formed in the pink flesh as the fangs dig into it. 

"No, sweet thing, I've got something better for you." You gaze up at him and spit down your cleavage, rubbing the soft skin together before you lean towards him and engulf his length between your boobs. The action has him squirming and whining softly, already bucking his hips against you as he tries to fuck his arguably favourite feature of yours. 

"Hey!"

His eyes shoot down to yours as his hips immediately stop. "Oh f–fuck I'm sorry, mommy, I'm sorry, I'm sorry–" He rambles on, knuckles turning white as he restrains himself from fucking your boobs again. 

"That's better, good boy." Your lips brush his tip and you give him a small kiss over his slit, a loud, sharp gasp being drawn in through his teeth. 

"Alright, sweetheart, now you can."

Steven doesn't waste another second before he's thrusting up into you again, the pillowy flesh enveloping his tip each time he drags his hips away. Your tongue waits at the end of each thrust for him and makes wet, sloppy sounds fill his ears as his hips lift further off of the bed, his head tilted back so that his adam's apple bops in his throat.

"Mommy, mommy– Oh God, holy shit.." his moans are even lewder than the sound of his tip hitting your tongue, short pants followed by long drawn out whimpers and (for the lack of a better word) slutty moans are all that can pass his lips, besides the odd 'mommy' and 'shit, fuck, God'.

The poor man only lasts a few minutes before you feel him suddenly jerk and his hips stop altogether, warm ropes hitting your tongue and spreading over  between your boobs as he slowly but shakily rolls his hips back and fourth, working the orgasm out of himself with soft whimpers.

You wrap your lips around the pulsing tip of his cock to milk a few more drops from him, with the strange feeling of the fangs making him jolt a little in surprise.

Rewarding him with one last lick, you stand back on your feet, still holding your tits in your hands as you lick your lips and lean towards him.

"Go on then, you said you wanted to suck them." 

Steven's eyes dart over the mess splattered over your chest, his face flushing in embarrassment before he closes his eyes and replaces your hands with his own to thumb your nipples, mouth meeting your hot skin to lick his own seed off of you. You run your hand through his hair affectionately and moan quietly while he cleans you up and moves down to your hard buds to roll and circle around them, teasing you as you'd done to him earlier.

"Oh darling..." A breathy pant leaves your lips as you rock your hips towards him, and before you can even say anything, you feel his fingertips slipping underneath your dress and into the pool between your legs, making your grasp tighten in his hair. 

"S–teven— we don't have enough time, honey..." Is what you try to warn him, but it just falls on deaf ears as his calloused fingers sweep through your folds and run over your clit in the same way his tongue is teasing your nipples. 

"Bite me again."

"What?"

"Bite me again. Please, mommy."

Another moan is tugged from your chest and makes you buck your hips against his perfectly calculating fingers. You curl over him, your mouth resting above that beating nerve till you sink your teeth into him as he presses his thick fingers into your needy, wet hole and drags them along your sweet spot. His groan only makes you bite onto him and grip his shoulders harder till you're driving yourself down on his fingers with muffled moans, his tongue flicking your sensitive nipples.

"Can you cum for me, love? Please cum for me mommy, use my fingers."

Those words send waves of pleasure through your body as your thighs shake and clamp around his hand to stop you from collapsing on the floor, long groans tickling Steven's skin while you ride out your high on his fingers.

You sigh softly and pull your head from his shoulder after you've calmed down, tracing your fingers over the dents on the man's neck.

"Now I've got a real vampire bite, haven't I?" He grins and nudges your neck with his nose.

"Yeah.." you giggle softly and stand up shakily, using his shoulders to hold yourself up as he puts himself away. "Lemme get some new underwear… then we can head out." 

"Or you could just wear no underwear–"

…………………………………………….......................

"Steven!" You swat his shoulder playfully, "Don't tempt me."

By the time Steven's whisking you off to the museum toilets, you're both 3 drinks down. Your skin feels all warm, like it's buzzing under the surface, and you can tell that Steven feels the same based on the flushness of his cheeks and the way his words slur together at the ends. Throwing open the women's bathroom door, he guides you into a stall while his mouth sloppily tries to kiss you back, soft whimpers escaping when he can't latch onto your lips in the way he loves too the most.

"Mmnnn, ssstupid bloody fangs..." He grumbles, hands roaming all over your body as if he's a hungry predator toying with its prey.

"You weren't saying that earlier, baaaby." A grin spreads across your lips before you pat his chest to make him stop. "Take them out if they're pissing you off that much, silly billy." You giggle and reach for his mouth to wiggle a finger between his soft lips, your boyfriend automatically wrapping his lips around it and sucking a little as his eyes flutter shut. He chokes when he feels you press down on his tongue.

"Hey!!" A pout replaces his goofy grin.

"I wasn't tryna make you suuuuck it, just trying to get these things out–" 

"No, no time; need you now, want you now, love." You feel his fingers start to wander again and slide under your dress and over your naked hips; you'd taken his suggestion of not wearing anything underneath.

He groans, and before you can argue back, he's turning you around and bending you over. You have to hold the walls to balance your dizzy head as you spread your legs apart further for him, looking back at your disheveled, sweaty boyfriend while he fumbles with the zipper of his costume. It doesn't help that he didn't bring his glasses, since they're quite helpful when slightly inebriated, but eventually he manages to pull it down and palm his clothed erection.

"Been teasing me all evening, right, dove?" His large hand splays across your ass and grips the flesh so he can watch how it squishes between his fingers. "Been wanting me to do this since–" he hiccups. "–since we got here." 

A simple nod from you doesn't satisfy him, and he reaches down to thumb your clit. "Right, pet?" 

God, drunk Steven is going to be the death of you.

"Of course!... Yes honey, wanted this all night." You whine softly and push back on him to feel his clothed tip press against your hole.

"Knew it..." The man giggles a little to himself and leans over you, his fingers clasping over your mouth in a semi tight grip. "Can't be making noise now though, yeah love? Gotta stay nice 'n quiet fffor me..." The thick digits run through your wet folds before pushing his boxers down so his cock can spring out and he can grip the base. 

Slowly, he presses into your warmth, groaning softly and resting his head on your spine as the feeling overwhelms his pretty, drunk head. The stretch of him is always admittedly your favourite part, whether it's Steven slowly stretching you out like this, or Marc ruthlessly fucking his shape into you, either way it's the best feeling.

His hips draw back, and then thrust forward again, his cock sliding in and out of you perfectly as the natural curve of his length rubs something inside you that makes it hard for you to stay quiet. 

"Oh Steven –ah!– baby–"

"Shhh, keep quiet, love… being sssuuch a good girl." He mumbles in your ear, soft pants and quiet moans building and escaping his own lips. You can't see it, but you can tell his brows are furrowed together in that delicious expression, the one he always does when he's concentrating on fucking you… especially when he's tipsy.

Despite your thoughts wandering for a second, Steven draws you back with a particularly harsh thrust, making you gasp into his hand and your nails drag down the cubicle walls as he continuously hits you with those hard thrusts, albeit a little sloppy and out of rhythm.

"Oh, shit– ssshhit, dove, Imma cum. Lemme cum in you. Please, pet."

His pleading is simply met with a whine and nod from you as your hand dives between your legs and rubs that bundle of nerves in just the right way to make you take in a sharp breath and push back on your boyfriend, enveloping him in your pulsing, wet heat as ropes of hot white paint your walls and Steven's soft moans fill your ears.

Now gripping onto the toilet paper holder, you slowly come down from your high, your thighs still shaking a little as the love if your life takes in staggered breaths.

"Love you..." You hear him mumble from the position in your back that he had his face pressed into. "ssso so much."

"Love you too, baby." You reply, despite the rather unromantic setting of the museum cubicle finally setting in. 

"We ssshhould get outta here though, pretty sure Donna was eyeing me when we came in here."

"Eh… fuck her."

Steven's confidence makes you laugh, and you reach your arm behind to pat his head gently, enjoying the silence for a bit longer.

…………………………………………….......................

Tagging people 🖤: @boredzillenial @cowboymarcs @chichimisaki @faretheeoscar @fanofstuffidk @minigirl87 @marisferasiop @red-hydra @summonthesoups @steven-grants-world @queerponcho @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @ominoose

“ao3 should have an algorithm” ao3 should continue only giving me exactly what I ask for which happens because I know how to use the search, sort, and filter functions

CryBaby

Pairing: Cecil Dennis x g/n reader

Summary: kinktober day 18, Masturbation and Dacryphilia

Rating: 18+

Warnings/content: male masturbation, dacryphilia, Sub!Cecil and Dom!reader, praise, cock ring, mocking/degrading, "puppy" as a nickname, "Ma'am" title, stripping, teasing, hair tugging, edging, crotch sniffing?? Idek, hookup type situation, lmk if there's anything else i should add :).

Word count: 1,296

Credit: @automnepoet for proofreading ily.

…………………………………………….......................

You hate how well Cecil has perfected his puppy dog eyes, because they always work on you. His big brown eyes soften and his eyebrows pull into an almost pained expression anytime he wants to get his way. He's even started adding a pout to his expression, one that just makes you want to grab his stupid blushing face and kiss him till you're both begging for air.

As he looks up at you now with that same expression, you find it hard to repeat the words you'd sneered just seconds earlier.

"Touch yourself." You finally say, though with a lot less conviction than before.

The man whines at his failed plan, palm pressing against his crotch seemingly in protest. "I ain't even done anything wrong though!"

Your lip curls a little at his brattiness. "I know you haven't," you lean down to him, face close to his, "but I wanna watch you fuck your hand, that alright with you?"

Cecil lets out a soft groan and then nods, giving up the bratiness just as quickly as he'd displayed it. He looks down at his crotch and starts undoing his tattered jeans, hands shaking a little with excitement and pulling out his cock for you to see in full glory.

You'd convinced him to put on that cock ring you'd purchased for him under the guise it'd make his orgasm feel better, but really you just wanted him to last more than 3 fucking minutes.

His tip weeps precum while the base of his cock twitches, making the whole length bob before he shakily wraps his hand around himself and spreads the precum messily over the shaft with a soft sigh.

You lick your lips almost instinctively while you watch him, eyes dragging over his body and observing the way he's already drawn in on himself just from some simple touches; maybe he likes being watched, or maybe he's just always like this when he jacks off, that wouldn't surprise you. 

"Good boy." The praise just comes from you automatically now, given positive reinforcement by the way his cock twitches and he moans. "Go on, carry on baby, lemme see you touch yourself like you do when you're alone."

"I–I can't, I need something to use, y'know? Like a porn mag or… you." His bottom lip sticks out.

That makes your tummy flutter. You give him a sheepish eye before placing yourself on the bed opposite him, your crotch directly in his eyeline from his position kneeling on the floor. Slowly, your hands reach down to the hem of your shirt and you pull it over your head, throwing it in his direction so it lands over his head.

The man scrambles to pull it from his face as his hand already starts moving on himself, long and slow strokes that remind you of the way he fucks you at first. "Yeah, i love that body…" His tongue hangs from his mouth, which is usually something you'd find a turn-off if it was anyone else, but admittedly it's endearing from the slightly odd man.

A smile spreads across your lips and you run your hands over your body and sides to tease him, lingering on some of the marks he'd left you with days ago. "And you love fucking marking it too." You scowl at him, though it's more playful than mean, just wanting to tease him for how excited he gets over you. Leisurely you bring your fingers further and further up till you reach your nipples to take them between your fingers and play with them, letting out soft moans and rocking your hips as you do when he touches you like this.

A pant comes from the other's lips as his eyes struggle to focus on your fingers teasing your pebbled nerves. 

"Can I not even touch them? This seems super unfair." He frowns and leans forward.

You place your foot on his thigh to push him back, making a pathetic whine explode from the frustrated man and his hand work faster on himself. 

"No, stay there, puppy." 

Another moan erupts from him, and usually that'd be enough to make him dismally cum, but as his hips buck wildly he finds himself chasing an orgasm that's just out of reach. "Fuck! It's this stupid ring, you put some kinda witchy magic on it."

"Nah, it's just basic biology, my love. Now, you gonna play nice or not?" You ask sternly.

He whines, cock throbbing again. "Yeah yeah, ok, Ma'am." 

Sitting back on his heels in defeat, he thrusts into his hand once again, though this time he feels more sensitive and it makes his eyes roll back briefly.

"Good boy." Your smile returns and you continue to undress yourself, this time lifting your hips to pull your jeans off in one smooth motion and opening your legs to him.

Cecil lurches forward eagerly despite your warnings, but before you can object he's burying his face between your thighs to take in your scent. It makes you clamp your legs shut around his head and a moan rumble in your chest; why is his neediness so attractive to you? It'd be kinda weird if it was anyone else, but when it's him it's almost expected.

You can hear him panting between your legs and you quickly open them again to let him breath, apologising briefly to which he shakes his head.

"Love being between your thighs, even if I can't fucking breathe, just feels so nice..." he whimpers out, hips now furiously fucking his fist and trying to meet some kind of end to the intense pleasure burning in his stomach. A wail reverberates through your skin and you notice him angrily press his face to your thigh, biting the skin softly. 

As much as you love that, you can't have him being a brat again.

You grab a fistful of his hair and tug his head back, a strangled sob bursting from his lips at the surprise, his shaking hand teasing his tip in an attempt to make himself cum.

"Don't be a brat. Maybe if you could last 2 fucking minutes you wouldn't have to wear that thing."

Another moan comes from his chest, and you notice him rubbing himself faster, despite the tears welling in his eyes.

You smirk; your precious crybaby loves a bit of degrading.

"You're lucky you know how to use that stupid mouth, otherwise I would've gotten rid of you a long time ago, slut." 

His jaw hangs open and his chest heaves with pants and whimpers, eyes squeezed shut and making pleasured tears roll down his face till he can taste the saltiness on his tongue.

"I love it when you cry, pretty boy, makes me wanna tease you over and over till you're just a mess on the floor—" you lean forward and lick a strip up his face to catch the tears.

Finally he's coming over his hand with loud moans and choked out noises, cum spilling from his tip like a fucking fountain as he fists every last drop he has out of himself, only whimpers and shakes left.

You release the grip you had in his hair and cup his face instead to kiss his nose, meeting his gaze with a big smile as he calms down from ultimately the best orgasm he's ever had.

"You good, love?" You check, pushing the curls sticking to his forehead out of the way so you can kiss it.

Cecil nods tiredly and presses his face into your touch. "Yeah, I'm good."

The smile stays on your lips as you stroke his shoulders, massaging the tense muscles.

"I hate this stupid thing… but… can I keep it?"

You laugh softly. "Yeah, of course Cecil." 

...........................................................................

Prompts by: @/flightlessangelwings

Tagging people: @cowboymarcs @sad1st1c-wh0re @poopoobuttsy @boredzillenial @mllover260 @simpforbritgents @saevenswelt @partssoldseparately @keira-kaz2y5 @theincredibleinkspitter @l-lune @red-hydra @queerponcho @summonthesoups @motleyfolk @steven-grants-world @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

(Lmk if you wanna be added or taken off the tag list and i will work my magic 👍)

in this household, we love and support trans folk and make sure they always feel welcome and safe

A Little Show

Kinktober Day 10: Stripping

Tags: Steven Grant x Reader, afab!fem!reader, lap dance, grinding, unprotected piv (don't be silly, wrap your willy), reader is a former stripper, a little bit of possessiveness from Steven, precious husband Steven is so lovely (w/c: 1.3K)

A/N: So I know I'm late with this day, but it took me like forever to come up with something, and then I remembered our collective husband Steven Grant. I adore writing him so much so I had such a grand ol' time writing this. (I am using these prompts for Kinktober from flightlessangelwings!)

When Steven found out about what you used to do for a living, you’d braced for the worst.

Marc already knew, because of course he did. He probably conducted a full background check on you the moment Steven got the idea of asking you on a date. There was no hiding your old life from him, including being a stripper, just as he wasn’t able to hide from you, including Steven and Jake.

You’d known that Steven wouldn’t react badly. You knew he’d never yell at you, call you horrible names, kick you out of the flat. But it didn’t stop the paralyzing fear from kicking in. Of him letting you down easy, telling you that the two of you were just too different, that your morals just aren’t the same. So when you’d told him, you’d braced yourself for the first relationship you’d ever truly loved to go up in flames.

But fuck, you couldn’t have predicted this. For Steven’s eyes to darken as you describe what you used to do for an audience, his gaze dragging down your body in a way that has heat flooding down to your core. He’s silent for a few moments, and it makes you squirm in your seat. He mumbles something under his breath, definitely to himself, but you need to hear it.

“What, Steven?” you ask, steeling yourself against his inevitable rejection.

“Will you show me?” he chokes out, his cheeks flaming red, before he thinks better of himself, his eyes going wide. “Wait, shit, sorry love, no. God, it’s fine, of course it’s fine. I love you, yeah? Nothin’s going to change that anytime soon, I’ll tell you. ‘M just a bit jealous, y’know, in spite of myself, but fuck, shouldn’t have asked that. Just ignore that, yeah? I-”

“Steven,” you cut off his nervous rambling. “You want me to show you?” You can’t help how your voice dips a little deeper, a little raspier, in a way that you know gets Steven all hot and bothered.

“Um,” Steven clears his throat, fiddling with his hands. He won’t meet your eyes. “I mean, who wouldn’t, yeah? Got the most beautiful girl in the entire world, and-”

“You want me to strip for you?” you whisper, nudging his chin up with your hand, forcing him to meet your gaze. His pupils are blown wide, and you watch the motion of his tongue as it just barely wets his lips.

“Please, love,” he rasps, and God, when he begs for you like that, who are you to refuse him?

You rise above him, and his eyes follow you, unable to tear away for a moment. As you stand, you take a long look at him, at the way his cock bulges in his slacks, the way his hands flex helplessly at his sides. Steven doesn’t have the control that Marc or Jake have, he’s fucking desperate for it. 

There’s no music, no pumping bass of the club you used to work at, but God, you find that you don’t need it. The heat of Steven’s gaze is more than enough, watching you with bated breath as you undo the buttons of your shirt, one, by one, by one. You let it carelessly drop to the floor behind you, leaving you in just your bra. You don’t own the same frilly bras you used to, from your old life, but Steven looks at you like you’re wearing the sexiest lingerie he’s ever seen.

You toe off your shoes, grateful for the fact that you just wore flats today, and slowly unzip your jeans. There are so many ways that this is so different from how it used to be. You never started your dances in jeans, never danced without music and dark lighting, without the stench of sex and sweat hanging in the air.

You’ve never danced and needed the man in front of you, loved the man in front of you.

The feeling is heady, lust swimming through your veins and pooling in your cunt. You peel your jeans off slowly, letting them pool around your ankles, stepping towards Steven. Steven, whose mouth gapes open just slightly, watching you like he’s starving for it.

You straddle him on the couch, moving your hips over his crotch in a slow grind that has you both gasping. Grinning at the way he watches your body move like water over him, you reach behind you and deftly unclip your bra in a practiced move. You slide it down your arms, throwing it somewhere behind the couch. You grip onto Steven’s shoulders to hump into him harder, and Steven’s hands flex at his sides as if he’s unsure what to do with them.

“You know what’s different about this than what I used to do?” you murmur, your lips nearly brushing his.

“Hm?” Steven hums absently, watching your body undulate above him.

You smile down at him. “You actually get to touch.”

Pulling his hands into yours, you mold his hands to your skin, nearly shivering at the feel of them. It’s like Steven snaps out of a trace, groaning softly under his breath as he greedily runs his hands over your naked skin, cupping your breasts and thumbing at your nipples in a way that makes your head spin. 

“So- so fucking gorgeous for me, love,” he murmurs, tilting his head up for a kiss. You meet him without hesitation, slipping your tongue into his mouth and drinking him in. You hump into him harder, shamelessly grinding your clit into the obvious bulge tenting the front of his pants. "Can I fuck you?” he gasps into your mouth, “Please tell me I can fuck you, darling.”

You’re nodding before your brain can even think of a proper response, and Steven takes his hands off your body to fumble at the zipper of his slacks, tugging himself out without any kind of finesse. It feels like you’re both teenagers, desperately clawing at each other, trying to get closer, as close as you can possibly get.

You haphazardly tug your panties to the side, letting yourself sink down on his cock, slow enough to let you feel the stretch as he breaks you apart. The moans you both let out as you sink to the hilt are borderline animalistic. The both of you are strung too tight, too needy to take this slow.

“God, you’re so-” Stephen punches his hips up into you, making you claw at his shoulders, “so tight for me, my love.” You can only press your forehead to his, meeting his lips in a sticky kiss as you bounce desperately on his cock. He stretches you so perfectly like this, reaching deep inside and the tip of his cock pressing into your g-spot with every thrust. The moans you’re letting out are downright embarrassing, but God, you can’t seem to bring yourself to care.

“How many of them wanted you like this?” Steven grunts against your mouth, meeting you thrust for thrust. “How many of those men you danced for wanted you just like this, bouncing on their cocks like the needy girl you are?”

“Steven, oh my God,” you whimper, letting him guide you as he fucks up into you, his thick hands braced on your hips, holding you tight enough that your skin pales beneath his fingertips.

“You’re mine, darling, no one else gets to have you,” he snarls, in the way he gets when he’s with you, when he’s lost in the feel of you. “This little cunt is mine, yeah? My perfect girl, can’t believe we found you.”

He thrusts into you once, twice, and you’re curling into him, barely able to hold yourself up, as you gush down his cock. You sob his name as he leans forward to press hot kisses down your neck, and you curl your fingers into his hair as you shake through your orgasm. 

Steven isn’t far behind, plunging deep into your pussy as it contracts around him, filling you up, claiming you in the most primal way he can.

He holds you on his lap as you both try to come down, keeping you afloat. You lean up to press a gentle kiss to his lips as you finally feel your mind come back to you.

“Have you ever actually been to a strip club, Steven?” you ask, smiling.

“Don’t need to,” he sighs. “Don’t want to.”

You hum. “You might change your mind once you see what I can do on a pole.”

3 suits for 3 lil guys

Mirror, Mirror, On The Wall...

Jake Lockley X Reader X Marc Spector

Summary: Jake wants to try something new...

Moon Knight Masterlist

A/N: I've had this idea in my head for like a month now after I saw an imagine suggesting the moon boys might do this... If anyone remembers who beautifully dirty idea this was, please tell me so I can credit them!! Also IDK what took over me with THAT scene with Jake... you'll see what I mean... I just think he'd look really pretty like this.

WARNINGS: fingering, mirror sex, voyerism (kinda?), sex toys, face fucking, throat bulge, choking, dirty talk, degradation, praise

ALSO! I was supossed to write a new chapter for Leather and Lace tonight but I wrote this instead. If you've been waiting on a chapter, blame @my-secret-shame and @welcometostayingawake for telling me to write this sin.

***********

“Feel so good baby, been thinkin ‘bout your tits all day.” Jake had pinned you against the living room door, his mouth all over every inch of exposed skin as he tugged at your clothes to reveal more. “Couldn’t wait to get my fucking hands on you.” He harshly gripped both your breasts in his hand, making you cry out for him.

“Fuck, J-Jake!” You put your hands over his dark jeans, gripping his ass in your hands. “Fuck, do you got all the fucking ass for?” You tease, nipping at his neck.

“Mmhm jorder” Jake growls, biting your shoulder. “All yours, baby, all yours” He presses his hips into yours, and you can feel his hard cock ready for you.

You take his hand, shoving in between your legs. “Touch me.” You command. Sex with Jake was a careful power balance. It wasn’t a fight for control; Jake had the control, you both knew that, but Jake wanted you to take what you wanted from him. Steven liked to take control, Marc liked to surrender to you, and Jake? Jake liked sex to be something akin to a dance. A dance where he was the leader, but a dance nonetheless.

Jake was happy to oblige. He moved his hand on you as you fucked his hand. “That’s right, Carino, take what you need” His other hand found your hair, entangling his fingers in your locks before capturing your mouth roughly in his. Your mouth opened to take his tongue as he licked into you, his desire evident. “I had an idea… I wanted to try something, mi vida” he kissed under your pulsepoint. “Do you trust me, amor?”

The idea of something new sends shivers down your body. With no hesitation, you nod. “Always, amor”

His smile was nothing but love. “Vamnos, bonita” He removed his hand from your cunt, smirking when you whined. “Paciencia” He teased, taking your hand and leading you into the bedroom. He closed the door behind you, which you thought was odd, seeing as you were the only people that lived there. With one more kiss on your lips, he roughly turned your around, and you saw why he closed the door. 

With your back to his chest, he wrapped one strong arm around your waist, gluing you to him, his other hand wrapped around your neck, forcing you to look at the two of you in the reflection. You watched yourself writhe against him, desperate for more of his touch. Jake pressed tender kisses into your neck, eyes connecting with yours through the mirror. “Marc is here” He whispers.

A slight moan escapes your mouth. You knew they watched each other, but it had never been this blatant.

“You like that?” Jake taunts, the hand around your waist slips under your pants and underwear. “Oh fuck, yeah you like that, you’re fucking soaked.” Jake pulled your pants and underwear down, helping you finish taking them off and pulling your shirt over your head. You were completely naked in front of him, and Marc.

Jake looked in the mirror, seeing Marc grinning, palming himself through his pants. ‘Smack her tits Jake, I like to see them bounce.’ Jake nodded, giving them each a slap. “That was from Marc.”

You turn to give Jake an open mouth kiss, then back to the mirror. “Do you like what you see Marc?” You run your hands down your body, feeling your curves.

“He does” Jake kissed between your shoulder blades, massaging your click as your wetness dripped down your legs.

“Jake, please, need you in me…”

“Ask and you shall receive, corazon…” His hand tightening around your throat as he plunged his fingers into you. “Mirror mirror on the wall…” Jake gently bit down on your neck, making your body jolt and reach a hand up to touch his hair. He repeatedly kissed and licked over the bitemark. “Who's the fairest of them all…” His eyes raked over your body through the mirror.

You move your hands to his dark jeans behind you unbuttoning his pants. “You” You tease.

His pants and boxers dropped to the ground and he picked up pace on your pussy, the wet sounds filling the room. ‘Put her on her knees’ Marc requested. Before Jake did as Marc asked, he wanted to make you come. He removed his hand from your throat, spanking you before working your tits. Jakes pinched your tender nipples. “Doing so good baby, putting on a good show for Marc. We want to hear you, yeah? Let him hear you.”

Letting yourself go you loudly cry out both of their names. You reveled in the feeling of his hands on your body, you wrap an arm around him, gripping his ass tightly as you neared your peak. “Jake, another finger, please…” You whine.

“Think you can take it, carino?”

You nod, frantic “Please, I’ll be a good girl, I can take it! I need it!”

Jake slipped a third finger inside you, circling his thumb around your clit. “Can you come for me baby? Don’t hold back, don’t hide those pretty little sounds…”

Shouting, your ogasm wracked through your body loudly, legs shaky as Jake kissed you through it, assuring you he had you as he held you up. “I got you baby, let it out, I got you” You felt his cock twitching behind your ass, impatient. 

As you came down from your high, Jake took a fistful of hair, pulling you down on the floor with him. Your legs were wobbly, so it didn’t take much. He yanked your face to his in a bruising kiss. When he pulled away, he gripped your face with a force. “You going to be good for us? Let us share you? Gonna be a good slut and take both of us?”

You looked at him, confused, but you nodded, moaning. You’ll do anything for him, you’ll do anything to be their good girl.

“Open your mouth, perra.”

You did as you were told, sticking your tongue out. He spat into your mouth, then slapped you, prompting you to swallow.

Jake let go of his grip, stroking your hair “Good girl, pretty girl… you’re going to show Marc how well you listen? I know Marc likes you to take control, but I think we should show him how good you look following orders, don’t you?”

You nod, spitting into your hand before wrapping it around his cock. “Yes daddy, I want to show Marc, I want him to watch you fuck me”

“Hm, hermosa…” Jake buckled his hips up into your hand. “Fuck, I’m not gonna last like this.” He grabbed your hand, stopping your movement. He grabbed a box that was by the door. Your eyes widened when he pulled out a dildo. “See, bebita, Marc doesn’t just want to watch…”

You gulp, but you look at his/Marc eyes in the mirror. They are asking for permission. You nod, smiling. “I want both of you” The idea of two of them or all three of them taking you had long been a fantasy of yours, something you had never shared with them. But as always, it seemed they knew your mind better than anyone. 

“Bien, mi vida” He kissed you softly. “Keep stroking my cock, I want to get your mouth ready.” 

You went back to moving your hand on him, stroking his extensive length that your hand didn’t even fit around. The mirror to your side, Jake slowly put the brand-new dildo into your mouth. It wasn’t as big as Jake, it wasn’t too much to handle, but enough to make you gag a bit at the initial contact. Slowly, in, out until it fully entered your mouth. You heave a bit, giving a fresh coat of spit around the plastic. Jake pulled it out, a string of spit connecting to your mouth as you caught your breath.

“Joder, mami” Jake grunted, thrusting into your hand. He yanked you back by your hair, placing the dildo back in your mouth. One hand moved the dildo, fucking your throat, his other hand returned to your neck, feeling the dildo inside your throat. “Fuck, you look so good like this”

You tried to concentrate on your breathing through your nose, but the ache between your legs was back, with your free hand you touch yourself.

Jake’s eyes were all over your body, mouth agape in wonder. “God, just the sight of you…” He muttered. Something drew his attention to the mirror and yanked your face to the mirror “Look at Marc, baby” You did as you were told, partial vision of you touching yourself and him in the reflection. “Look at her, hermano” Jake spoke to Marc. “So pretty, so talented, and all ours…” ‘All ours…’ Marc repeated, jacking himself off in the mirror. He slapped your ass hard once, twice, thrice, your body jolting with each hit. You were sure there’d be a bruise tomorrow. Your body felt like it was on fire.

Jake took the dildo out when he saw you struggling to breathe. He stuck it to the mirror, right in line with his pelvis. He kissed your drool covered mouth. “This still okay, hermosa?” Jake asked, eyes soft, letting you know it was okay to back out. There was no way in hell you wanted to stop. He wraps his hands around you as the two of you knelt on the floor, his touch, tender.

“Want to be your good girl…” You were getting close again, brain in a haze.

“Look at me” He held your face in his hand gently “You’ll always be our good girl, even if you change your mind.”

You give him a quick kiss, smiling at him “I want this”

He grinned back at you. “Oh fuck yeah.” He straightened up, slapping you harshly across the face before putting his fingers in your wet cunt “Open” When you opened your mouth, he spit into your mouth, and again. He shoved two fingers in your mouth, you closed around him to suck him clean. “I think Marc is about to burst, baby, let's show him what you got.” 

You scramble to turn around. Jake’s favorite way to take you was on your hand and knees, you assumed this is how he’d want you. Jake stopped you. “Marc and I thought we’d do it the other way, we don’t want to hurt your throat if I get too rough, make sure you can beath” He coaxed you to turn around. It touched you that they had talked about this, taking your comfort and safety into such consideration. As touched as you were, what Jake did next promptly broke your thoughts. He took the dildo off the mirror, and put it in his mouth. The sight of his mouth, his beautiful, lush lips taking the dildo down his throat…. Should not have turned you on as much as it did. Tentatively, you place your hand over his, controlling the pace in which you fucked his mouth.

This better not awaken anything in me… You think. You realized why he said you looked so pretty with your lips around his cock… you could say the same about him… You see a gleam in his eyes as his throat gagged around the dildo. “Fuck, take it pretty boy, fucking take it.” You mutter, entranced in him. You move your head around him a bit, scanning his features, taking in his face. Incredible. He was built like a god, his face surely sculpted by them, and here he was… Letting you fuck his mouth with a dildo. You watched the spit spill out of his mouth. “All a mess for me…” You spoke softly, tenderly, putting a hand on his cheek. Withdrawing the dildo a bit to allow him to breathe, you angle it to poke through his cheek, feeling it in his mouth. How beautiful eyes never left yours even as you focused on the bulge in his cheeks. Jake was rarely submissive, but the look of aw on your face made him want to try this more…

When you pulled the plastic dick out of his mouth with a ‘pop’, he attached it back to the mirror. “Nice and wet for you, baby.” 

He kisses you, hands on your face pulling you down on your knees. “Take Marc first, mi amor, I want to watch your face…”

Never breaking eye contact, your back up. The dildo was wet with Jake’s spit and you and Jake had thoroughly worked you open, it slid in easier. “Uuugghh, M-Marc… Marc, baby”

‘Fuck, what a sight… so good’ Marc mumbled, stroking himself to the rhythm you worked yourself on the dildo. “Marc says you feel fucking amazing, you ready for me? You want both of us in you, baby?” Jake gently stroked your face with the back of his hand, his cock so fucking close to you.

You move forward, licking him before moving back down on Marc. “Please Jake, need both of you, need you two to fill me up, please? Love you both so much.”

“Oh, mi vida, we love you too, but I’m about to fuck you like I hate you” He kissed your forhead. “Tap my leg if it’s too much” Then he shoved his cock deep inside you, hitting your throat. Immediately you gag, but the pressure of his thrust pushed you back onto Marc, hitting deep inside.

Jake seemed to hesitate at this, but you reach up and grab his absolute cake of an ass, forcing yourself to take him deeper. He took that as a cue to keep going. He thrust into your mouth, listening to you gag, the wet sounds of your mouth and soaked cunt. He could see your pretty pussy glistening through the mirror. Jake looked up to see Marc watching you take him.

 “Isn’t she something, Marc?”

‘Fucking beautiful’

“So good for us, taking our cock like a champ” Hishands found your hair, moving your mouth off his briefly to allow a breath. “I know it’s not easy, doing so good.”

“Anything for you baby” You gasp out. 

He thrust back into your mouth “I know baby, you’d do anything for us, wouldn’t you?” He picked up his pace, the hot coil within you straightening as you fucked yourself on the mirror, hoping to god Marc liked what he saw

He did. He really, really did. He was hanging on by a thread as it is.

“You’d take all three of us if you could, wouldn’t you? You are our little whore, our little slut to just get passed around between us huh?” He thrust deep, hitting your throat with each question “Our little fuck toy? Our Muñecita? Our little fuck doll?” Jake’s pace was faltering. “Fuck, touch yourself muñecita, I’m close, I want you to come on Marc’s cock when I come in your mouth, okay?”

Mouth stuffed full of him, you could only mutter out a muffled “okay” You prop yourself up on your stronger, dominant arm, thankful for not skipping arm day. You reach down, finding your cunt absolutely drenched. You moan onto his cock

“Fuck, you sound good like that, your mouth stuff with our fat fucking cock, muffled by my dick down your throat. Don’t you think so Marc?” Jake looked at his brother fucking his girls pussy, pleasuing her.

‘Fuck, think she should be like this all the time, a pretty little toy for use to use, just existing for us to stick our cock everywhere we can’

“Fuck baby, I’m-” Jake tried to warn you, but he came inside your mouth as he continued to fuck into you. You came on cue, juices covering Marc as he came in the reflection. Your vision fades out from your eyes, your arms give out under the weight of your orgasm, falling to the floor as you detached from the dildo. Jake tried to catch you, but was only able to stop your head from hitting the floor. “Fuck! Carino, I’m sorry-” But you interrupted his apologies by laughing.

“Baby, don’t apologize, I’ve never passed out from an orgasm before” You try to catch your breath, lying face up on the floor. 

Jake laid down next to you, panting, taking your hand. “How was that for you? Because for Marc and I…” Jake whistled.

You laugh. “Amazing baby, it was amazing. Wish we could get Steven involved somehow, but I think that’s a bit out of our logistics.”

“Probably” He leaned over to kiss you, tenderly sucking on your lips. “C’mon, let's get you cleaned up.” Jake stood up carrying you over to the bed. He went to the bathroom, coming back with a warm wash clothes and cool washcloth. First he lit your favorite candle and put on your playlist of calming music. Shelter from the Storm by Bob Dylan came on. With the warm wash cloth, he cleaned off your chest and between your legs. With the cool one, he gently patted down your forehead, temples and mouth. Jake took out chapstick and applied it to your chapped lips, then kissed you. “Beautiful girl…” he muttered and climbed into bed. He began to wrap you up in his arms, but you stopped him.

“Can I hold you?” You ask.

Jake was surprised. You would be the big spoon for Steven and Marc, but it was generally understood he would hold you. But today was a day for firsts. “Yeah, hermosa.”

He lays down, his back to your chest as you wrap your arms around his wide body. Jake was stiff at first. “Relax, baby. I got you, you’re safe with me…” you whisper to him. You play with Jake’s curls, and he melts into your arms. “How is Marc.”

Jake intertwined his fingers in the hand you had on his chest. You were so sweet, so caring. Despite the things he had said, the things they had done to you, you still wanted to care for them. This is one of the many, many reasons he loved you. He could be himself with you, yes, but he could also trust Marc and Steven with you. Their body, their hearts, they were safe with you. He was safe with you. 

It was like a dance. A dance where he leads, but a dance nonetheless.

**********

Thanks for reading!!!! reblogs help a lot, comments mean the world!

IDK what made me make this so soft at the end, but i've been in a soft!jake mood.

tagging @ahookedheroespureheart @jake-g-lockley and @bit-dodgy-innit bc i thought you might like this nonsense.

Hand Covers Mouth

Kink: sex pollen/aphrodisiac

About this: Takes place during canon events, Steven/fem!reader, Marc/fem!reader.

*

Let’s split up, Layla had said. She tacked on a hurried, ‘You with Steven? Be careful!’ before nearly sprinting off down a tunnel, leaving you (her scowling friend) and Steven (a mesmerized puppy) alone in a sandy tomb.

Look, you understood it was complex. Steven shared a body with her (soon to be? Possibly?) ex-husband, after all; but in your mind, that gave her even more of a reason to be the one responsible for him. Absently, your hand reaches down to lay your palm on the holster where your gun rests. You have no doubt that Harrow’s minions would kill without qualm. While you would not find it so easy to digest, you would do whatever you had to, to keep yourself safe.

To keep Steven safe. No matter what—

“What are you doing?” you ask at a frantic whisper. Steven is barely visible in the darkness where he is brushing sand and dust, centuries of time away from the hieroglyphics on the wall.

He glances back over his shoulder at you, giving you his typical expression of an adorable animal who fears they are about to be on the receiving end of a harsh kick in the rump, but who is so thrilled by their own discovery that they hardly care. He points to the wall.

“Reading these hieroglyphics,” says Steven. “Think they might be important.”

You glance toward the wall. You are not like Steven or Layla, able to read the symbols. You did not have the same practical and personal education which they had so tediously earned for themselves over the years. At the base of the wall sits a gilded table, the bottom of each leg morphing into the paw of some great cat. Some of the items around it are unrecognizable, turned to rubble, after so many years. But resting on top of it, there are a set of neat little figurines inlaid with moldavite, glittering black in the darkness.

“You don’t think—the ushabti?”

“Not likely,” Steven admits with a frown. “But some of the wall has crumbled here, can’t make out the rest, can I? It does say that this is powerful. Maybe we should take these to Layla and have her look at them.”

You fight the urge to scowl again. Layla. Steven was always trailing after Layla…

Alright, perhaps you had another reason for being so sour at Steven’s mention of your closest friend. How could you help being enamored with him, with his big brown eyes, with his undying enthusiasm, with his gentle heart and scathing wit? But Steven didn’t look at you like that. He was always too busy looking at Layla.

When you look at him, the expression of hope on his face is painful. You do your best to bite back any sarcastic or caustic replies. He truly doesn’t deserve them. It isn’t his fault he doesn’t reciprocate your feelings.

“We don’t have time to hunt down Layla with every artifact we find,” you remind him gently. “And we don’t have time to search every little artifact for significance, either.”

He leans against the wall, like some suave Don Juan from a movie.

“Life’s about stopping to smell the roses, love, or stopping to find the roses if no roses immediately present—oh—oh bugger.” Steven slips, more of the wall crumbling away beneath the weight of his elbow. He stumbles into the little golden table—and off go all three of the little figurines, smashing into brittle pieces on the stone floor, the sound deafening in the silence around you.

“Oh my gods,” Steven says, both hands coming up to clutch at his curls. “Oh no, I deserve prison. Oh look what I’ve done—these were thousands of years old and I just destroyed them—”

“Steven—” Your words die in your throat. Your heart begins to race, breathing becoming fast and shallow. He looks up at you from where he has knelt on the floor in anxious guilt over the figurines, and you see something in his eyes which you can’t identify. Something sharp. Something hungry.

Then he blinks.

In the distance, you hear the sound of voices calling, none of them the familiar timber of Layla. He reaches out with the reflexes of a snake and grabs you around the waist, dragging you down to his position. One hand—warm, tasting faintly of sweat and sand—clamps over your mouth as he drags you back against his body, making both of your positions smaller as you hide behind a pillar.

Against your back, he is hard.

“Quit it,” he hisses lowly in your ear, and that’s when you realize that it isn’t Steven at all. That posh British accent has dissolved into something relaxed and loose, a Chicagoan accent that you’ve never heard before but would recognize anywhere. Marc. His words register secondarily, and you realize that you are writhing against him, literally arching your back to try to rub your aching cunt against the hard line of his cock.

A whine slips past his hand, and he lets out an angry, shaking breath against the crook of your neck. His free hand reaches around and slips right down the front of your pants. By the time he is cupping your sex with his broad palm, you are soaking wet, aching, already working towards that blissful crest even with the only stimulation being in your own mind.

“It must have been an aphrodisiac,” Marc whispers, barely audible over the raging pulse in your ears. “If I give you some fingers, can you be quiet until they’re gone?”

You nod, exaggeratedly. Truthfully, you aren’t sure. You just know that you would say anything, agree to anything to have any one of his fingers inside you.

He gives you two. You cum straight away, eyes rolling back, pussy clenching around his digits tightly. Marc gives a choked breath at the sensation of your walls squeezing and squeezing his fingers. His hips work once, twice, three times against the curve of your ass and then he stiffens himself, a breathless, nearly inaudible sound of pleasure passing through his lips.

The sweetest fucking sound you’ve ever heard.

The voices in the distance begin to fade away—the sweetest silence.

Then you have a mouthful of sand, Marc’s hand between your shoulder blades pinning you into the ground. You hear the clinking of his belt as he frantically tries to loosen it, and you wiggle your hands beneath you looking for the fasten of your own pants.

“Didn’t want it to go like this,” he says through clenched teeth. You can’t even imagine his expression: something hard and desperate. You wonder if he took over for Steven forcefully or if Steven retreated, anxious at the potent desire that the aphrodisiac evoked in him. “Didn’t want our first time to be like this—”

“Is he okay?” you whisper, working your pants and underwear down at once, arching your back for him. He still has on his boxers, but he’s grown desperate: hands gripping your hips, thighs snapping against the back of your own as he simulates sex with you. Marc makes a perplexed sound. Fuck, his cock feels good, even covered by soft cotton that you’re drenching with your own slick. You struggle for a moment to remember your question. “Steven—is he okay?”

“Steven is—fucking great,” Marc says, laughing a little derisively. “Trust me. Steven’s been wanting to fuck you since the moment he saw you. There’s a little place in my head where’s he’s beating off furiously, I’m sure—”

“You’re such a dick,” you gasp.

“I’ll show you dick, gonna give you mine,” he mutters through his teeth, finally working down his boxers. “Gonna fuck that girlish expression you give Steven all the time right off your face, gonna make it so every time you look at him, you’re thinking about how good my cock fills you.”

“His cock,” you breathe, arching your back more, fingers curling in the sand and scratching the stone beneath. “His cock too.”

“Yeah yeah,” says Marc testily, finally resting the head of his cock at your entrance. He slips in with one devastating, life-changing thrust. “We’ll test that theory when I let him out for his turn.”

Pretend

Kink: Virginity

Jake/f!reader

*

“Would you pretend?” he asks against your mouth, both your lips swollen from the heated kisses you’ve been sharing. The back of Jake’s car is downright luxurious, plenty of room for someone to kneel, seats soft and clean and wide enough for a body to lay on. Most nights when he wants to go cruising, the two of you end up like this in a parking garage or on a back road.

“Pretend what?” you ask, brain moving slow, like it has been dipped in molasses.

“Pretend it’s your first time,” he says. The two of you had been swapping stories about how you lost your virginities—it had made Jake delightfully jealous, you had thought, his hands tightening on the wheel when you discussed the naive, shy way you had touched another man. But then he had pulled off the nearest exit and driven you here to a secluded spot where the pavement had turned to gravel. “Pretend you’re a virgin. Would you?”

“You’d like that?” you wonder, a little baffled. But before he can answer, you slip into the role. You let your eyes soften, a hint of anxiety in them. Your voice quivers a little, fingers playing with the loops of his belt as you say: “I thought most guys didn’t like inexperienced girls.”

Jake groans. He fucking moans at the way your voice shakes, the way your hands flutter away from where you truly want to touch him, the way you look up through your lashes at him, like there’s a need inside you that you don’t understand but desperately need him to quash. He leans down and mouths at your neck softly. “Most guys don’t. But something about it makes me crazy.”

“You’d be my first?” you ask him, breathless with hope. “You’d be okay with that? Being the first inside me?”

His hips jerk against yours, cock brushing your pussy through your denim and his own slacks. “Yes, fuck, yes!”

“But…but Jake—your cock feels so big—what if it doesn’t fit?” you ask.

“Sweet little pussies like yours will stretch, baby,” he says, hips beginning a slow series of grinding thrusts against you. You try to meet him clumsily, even though you know him and his body so well, even though the rhythm you both have established is so solid that it’s hard not to be in sync with him. “You were made to take a cock like mine.”

God help you, because you feel your own blood rising at this little charade. Something about how aroused Jake is arouses you to a degree you hadn’t expected. Your legs shake around him.

“Jake, fuck, it feels good,” you whine, tilting your hips to welcome his own more easily. “Is it going to feel like this when you—when you put it inside me?”

“Better,” he groans. “So, so much better.”

“Feels like, like it does when I touch myself at night,” you gasp, letting your mouth quirk into a grin that borders on evil where he cannot see. “Feels like I’m gonna cum, Jake.”

Jake’s the one who cums, body stiffening, sucking in a breath through his teeth as his cock twitches in his pants. You loop your legs around his waist, helping him to thrust more firmly against you, groaning softly and tangling your fingers in his curls to scratch at his scalp with your blunt nails.

“Fuck,” he gasps, shaking. “I’m sorry.”

“Which of us was the virgin that time?” you tease.

He rolls you both onto your sides and swats your ass.

Steven Grant random thought #2- what sex is like with the moon boys

--🔥 Content: nsfw, what sex is like with Marc Jake and Steven, language, dirty deeds, Steven Grant doesn't understand what hate fucking is (~700 words)--

Steven thinks it over, then looks at you. "Like, I'm not the most experienced guy, but I love what we've done of it so far."

You and Steven are sitting in his flat eating lunch. Your legs are over his lap as you eat smoked tofu sandwiches.

You shake your head. "That's not what 'hate fucking' means, love. It's not that you don't like it. It means that you fuck someone you hate and that's what makes it so good."

His face scrunches up a little. "Doesn't sound very nice."

You smile and try to think of a way to relate it to him. Usually, Steven is the one teaching you things. And even if it’s just this ridiculous concept, it’s nice to be able to teach him something.

You brush the crumbs off your hands. “Remember that time you were mad at me?”

“What? I wasn’t mad.” Steven insists.

“Okay, remember that time when I pushed you into annoyance?”

A smile lifts the corners of his mouth and he gets a slightly dreamy look in his eyes. “You had my handprints on your ass for days. Was absolutely lovely to look at.”

“It’s kind of like that. Hate and love and passion are strong emotions. And then there’s the satisfaction of seeing someone that you’re usually at odds with become absolutely desperate for you.”

He finishes his sandwich thoughtfully. “Is it kind of like how Jake does it? I mean, he gets pretty rough.”

“No, Jake goes after it like my pussy owes him money and my throat is the ATM. Not the same thing.”

“And Marc-“

“Not the same,” you explain patiently. “Marc has sex like,” you don’t even know how to explain the feelings Marc brings out in you, “like he’s trying to pull apart my soul and claim it with his cock."

Steven finishes his sandwich. After a bit he says, almost shyly, “and how would you describe my… skills?”

You blow out a breath. “You’re hypnotizing. You get me to do things and feel things, whatever you want, and you make it feel like it was my idea. Like I’d felt that way all along and you just opened the door and walked me through it. It’s like an out of body experience.”

Steven blushes. “That’s quite a generous description, love.”

You lean forward and kiss him on the lips. Then, you collect the plates and take them to the kitchen to wash up.

He follows you, rubbing circles on your back with his hand. “Since we’ll never get to experience this ‘hate fucking’ thing, maybe we can stick to the next best scenario.”

You rest your hip on the kitchen counter. “What’s that?”

“Just that, well, if I’m so convincing and all, maybe I can go over to my desk. Do a little reading. Really study, you know?”

“And I suppose, I shouldn’t disturb you?” You rinse off the plates and dry your hands.

“No. Definitely not. Nothing on offer for you m’afraid.” He backs away toward his desk, slides his readers out of his pocket and puts them on.

You wait patiently for him to sit down at his desk. “So, nothing like last time, where I sat in your lap and tried to get into your pants until you got so annoyed that you snapped and got into mine?”

“None of that.” Steven says seriously.

You start to cross the room toward him. “Maybe this time, I really need to push it. Really piss you off.”

“I don’t think you could. I love you too much.”

You smile. “Yeah, I don’t think you’re a hate fucking kind of guy, Steven Grant. And I love that about you.” You fold your arms. “But you have to take it easy on me this time. I have to be in meetings all day tomorrow.”

Steven smiles, a look somewhere between absolute glee and intense purpose. “Oh love, you’re going to be thinking of me all day, sitting on that sore little bottom I’m going to give you. That’s a gift from me to you. But, Jake has some thoughts on the hate fucking thing that he’d like to show you later. That one’s your fault for bringing up the silly thing in the first place.”

I would eat my left shoe for a couple of lines about Steven being eager to get the reader pregnant.

Something about him becoming unhinged over the idea of breeding is all I can think about lately. xx

“I’m the only one you let fuck you like this, righ’?” Steven whines into the hollow of your throat. His thrusts have long descended into mindless rutting, both your fronts plastered against each other, sweat slicking your skin.

“Fuck me how, baby?” you coo, scratching his scalp softly through his curls. It drives him mad. Not just playing with his curls—but talking to him in such a mothering, borderline condescending manner. “How do I let you fuck me?”

“You, you know,” he groans. “Without a—a condom.”

“Just you, baby,” you assure him. It’s true; you haven’t let Marc or Jake fuck you bareback yet. Not out of any fear of disease—they share a body for fuck’s sake—but mostly because of the intimacy. You knew Steven first. You were still coming to know the others. Maybe in time…But during moments like this, that isn’t how Steven wants to play. “Just you. Gonna make you a daddy.”

“Fuck, yes, yes gods please. Gonna show them,” he gasps, hips jerking against you. “Gonna fill you up til it takes, and then they’ll know you belong to me, you’re mine—“

“Do it,” you breathe, letting a little whine fill your voice. “Steven, please. I want everyone to know I’m yours, your slut—“

“Oh my days—“

“—cum in me, please. Don’t pull out, I don’t want to lose any of it, plug me up, I’ll—“

Steven stiffens, cock jerking where it is buried inside you, head brushing the tender entrance to your womb. His seed is warm where it fills you, soothing any ache the fierce pounding he gave you minutes before might have left.

And when he’s finished and pulls out, he takes his shaky fingers and scoops up the cum leaking from your clenching cunt, coaxing it back inside. Your eyes fall shut, a pleased sigh passing your lips.

Submission

Pairing: Andy Barber x Fem!Reader; minor Lloyd Hansen x Fem!Reader Word Count: 8,132 Summary: You rejected the wrong man. Warnings: Explicit sexual content. Explicit language. Soft!dark mob!Andy & soft!dark henchman!Lloyd. Kidnapping. Non con touching. Forced exhibitionism. Rough dub con oral (m receiving). Cum play. Humiliation. Dub con vaginal fingering and orgasm denial.

A/N: Welp, I dunno where this came from, but, well…you're welcome?! 😘

You were just about to grab the dinner plates for table 11 when you heard your name being called behind you. 

Glancing over your shoulder, you spotted your boss, Kenneth, filling the doorway of the kitchen. He gestured you closer and off to the side of foot traffic. 

You hurried to stand before him, breathing out a soft, "Yes, sir?"

"Allison's gonna take over table 11," he told you.

"Oh," you frowned, deflating a little as you wrung your hands in your black server apron. "Did I…do something wrong?"

You were only a few months into this job, and although you'd worked as a server for a few years now, this was your first gig at a fine dining establishment. 

You still couldn't believe your luck, honestly. 

The pay was so much better, and the tips were phenomenal, especially when you served VIPs.

It was as if Kenneth was reading your mind as he explained, "No, Mr. Barber just arrived and he's requested you as his server." 

You felt a nervous flutter in your stomach at the very thought of that particular patron, still wringing your hands in your apron as you wisped out a quiet, "Oh, okay."

If Kenneth noticed the disappointment in your tone, he didn't acknowledge it, instead waving you away to get back to work.

You gnawed at your lower lip as you slipped back out onto the floor, passing fellow servers and patrons alike as you made your way all the way across the large dining room and to the far wall, where the VIP booths and tables sat.

And there he was, seated in his usual end booth, tucked away from the hubbub of the rest of the room, perusing the menu although he probably knew it by heart by now.

Andy Barber.

You felt yourself slow your pace just a little, prolonging your trek and feeling a little resistant to serving Mr. Barber.

You weren't sure why he had taken such a liking to you, but he had, having requested you as his server the two nights a week he came in for dinner since that first night you tended to him nearly three months ago. 

He was nice enough, and very handsome. Like, ridiculously handsome. Tall and lean with broad shoulders and dark, floofy hair. His beard was thick and perfectly trimmed, his eyes dark blue and piercing.

And always on you whenever you were in the vicinity, which definitely didn't help with your nerves.

You weren't used to being under a microscope the way you felt you were whenever you were in the presence of Andy Barber.

Despite his kindness and patience with you when you tended to flub your words and be stupidly flustered in his presence, he still made you so unsettled.

Because he was a mobster.

You weren't sure of the specifics, but you knew enough to know that Andy Barber was one of the most notorious organized crime bosses in the region. 

And the thought of being on his radar and dealing with him daily just set off all the alarm bells in your head.

So you tried your best to be pleasant and professional but that was it. You just wanted to do your job, and do it well, and then skedaddle as far away as you could from Andy Barber and whatever business dealings he had with your boss once your shift was over.

You felt your heart skip a beat when Andy suddenly looked up and right at you, his eyes brightening as his lips curled into a pleased smile.

And really, in any other circumstance, you would be simply over the moon to have a man that attractive give you a smile like that.

But definitely not in this circumstance, and definitely not with Andy Barber.

Sighing your disappointment, you mustered a friendly smile for Andy as you finally stopped beside his booth. 

"Good evening, Mr. Barber. How are you doing today?"

"How many times do I need to tell you to call me 'Andy,' honey?"

The cocktail of his teasing tone, the term of endearment, and the way Andy's eyes were taking their time to trail over your restaurant issued white button up and black skirt had a wave of warmth blooming in your cheeks as you clutched your hands behind your back to stop from openly fidgeting. 

"I'm sorry, it just feels…disrespectful, sir," you said shyly. 

Your insides fluttered when Andy's eyes finally met yours, something in them twinkling and darkening all at once as you very nearly cowered before him. 

Grinning, Andy lounged back in his seat, spreading his arm along the length of the booth beside him as he teased, "Mmm, and you're a good girl, huh? Like to mind your manners?"

Something about the way he purred "good girl," had something deep inside of you clenching, and you cleared your throat as you glanced away for a beat before gathering yourself and asking him if he was ready to order.

Smirking at the way you changed the subject completely, Andy gave you his entree selection for the evening, requesting a bottle of wine to go along with it, his gaze burning into your back every single step of your hurried retreat to the kitchen to put in his order. 

A little while later, once Andy had been served his dinner and wine, you reluctantly returned to his table to check on him. 

"How is everything?" you asked, tugging at the hem of your skirt at either side of you as Andy wiped his mouth with his linen napkin and grinned up at you.

"Delicious, as always, although…" he sighed, shaking his head in disappointment.

As he trailed off, you instantly went on alert, your eyes falling to his half-eaten plate to see if you could spy a potential issue or complaint that could arise. 

Your boss didn't take too kindly to those. He prided himself, and his establishment, on the perfect dining experience, and it was your job as a server to make sure you were delivering just that.

"Is everything okay? Is something not to your liking? Or is there something that you need?"

Andy's eyes danced at your worried tone. "Yes, actually." He leaned forward, gaze drifting over you again, and leisurely so, before he gestured to the empty seat across from him. "I could use some company while I finish my meal."

"Oh." You straightened to your full and unimpressive height, startled by his request. "Um." You glanced around nervously–uncomfortably–spying some of your coworkers in the vicinity and wondering what they would think of you doing something so unprofessional. "I'm not really allowed to…do that. When I'm on shift, you know?"

Andy's smile instantly dropped, a tic popping in his jaw. "Well that's disappointing. Especially considering how often I dine here, how much money I spend here–"

"Is everything okay?" Kenneth suddenly appeared behind you, causing you to squeak in fright and whip around to face him. 

"Oh, we were just–" you started to stutter, but Andy spoke over you.

"I was just being denied some company while I eat." He said it teasingly, but his tone had a harsh edge to it that had you flinching as your boss shot daggers at you.

Kenneth laughed nervously, "Ah, I apologize, Mr. Barber. You know she's still rather new and learning the ropes." 

Andy tutted wordlessly as your boss corralled you aside and gave you a look.

"Our VIPs are treated as such, which means any request they make of you, you fulfill. That's your job, do you understand me?" Kenneth snarled at you.

You wilted beneath your boss' hard stare, feeling a wash of heat rush through you as your heart rate increased and your palms began to sweat. 

"I-I'm sorry, sir, I didn't realize–"

He waved away the rest of your apology. "Just sit with him until he's done and make his meal enjoyable, do you think you can do that?"

"Yes," you nodded quickly. "Yes, of course."

Huffing, Kenneth turned on his heel and stalked away, disappearing into the kitchen and leaving you gaping after him. Blinking, you turned back to Andy, wringing your hands as you hedged closer.

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Barber. I didn't mean to be rude. I just, I was just trying to do a good job."

"Sit," he gestured across from him, his smile returning as he met your gaze, a hint of victory flickering in his own. "And all will be forgiven, sweetheart."

You eased into the booth, feeling awkward as you sat across from Andy and watched him eat.

Between bites of food and sips of wine, he peppered you with questions about yourself. His gaze was fixed on you more often than not, drifting from your face and down the expanse of your throat, then lower still to linger on the soft swell of your chest before lifting once more. 

And not once did Andy look abashed nor apologetic in the least when you so obviously caught his ogling and squirmed in your seat as a result of it.

Once he finished, he nudged his nearly empty plate away, sighing his content as he touched a hand to his stomach and grinned at you. 

"This is why I come here so frequently, I'm a man who appreciates good food, and I'm never disappointed."

You smiled, shifting closer to the edge of your seat. You desperately wanted to clear the table and scurry back into the safe respite of the kitchen, and far far away from Andy Barber and his relentless gaze and nosy questions. 

"I'll let the chef know you enjoyed your meal, sir."

Andy hummed as you slowly started to rise from your seat, watching him with wide eyes like you were waiting for him to stop you.

When you finally stood over him and reached for his plate, Andy caught your wrist in his warm, firm grip.

You couldn't prevent the startled gasp that fell from your lips at his touch, watching as Andy's nostrils flared at the sound. He looked up at you from beneath his lashes as his thumb dragged across the delicate underside of your wrist, causing goosebumps to break out all along your body.

"You know, I'd much prefer sharing a meal with you instead of you watching me eat. I'd love to treat you to a nice evening out." Andy's gaze dropped to watch as his touch trailed along your skin, and then he was tipping his face up and giving you an expectant look. "What do you say, honey?"

Although he posed it as a question, it didn't feel like one. Yet your sense of self-preservation, and all the alarm bells ringing in your head, had you gently tugging yourself free from Andy's grip and scooping up his plate before taking a measured step back. 

"Um, I'm very flattered, Mr. Barber, but I just don't think it's a good idea."

Something in Andy's gaze went flat–like a switch had been flipped–and you felt a chill race up your spine as you took another fidgety step away from him. 

"I uh, I'll go get your check, okay?" You gave him a shaky smile before turning on your heel and returning to the kitchen at lightning speed. 

And each and every step of your retreat, you couldn't get the image of Andy's displeased look out of your head. 

In fact, it lingered in the back of your mind like a dark storm cloud for the entire rest of your shift. 

The sigh of relief you let loose once you stepped outside of the restaurant after your shift was staggering. 

Literally. 

You were so exhausted and emotionally wrung out, that you took a moment to lean back against the cold brick exterior of the restaurant and just take a few centering breaths. 

Usually you didn't mind work so much, nor dealing with patrons, but something about that encounter with Andy earlier–and the way your boss had been so cross with you, too–had shaken you. 

You always took such pride in your work and being good at it, and now there seemed to be all these messy, complicated layers that you weren't used to dealing with. 

But thankfully you had survived, and now you had a couple of days off to decompress before you had to return for another shift.

You were actually looking forward to the walk to the train station, in the mood to breathe in the cool autumn air and just walk off the anxiety from the evening.

Smiling a little to yourself, you pushed away from the brick wall and turned to start your trek to the station but nearly walked into the figure emerging from the restaurant entrance before you.

"Oh, I'm so sorry–"

Your words fell away as you glanced up into the pleased face of Andy. 

"Twice in one evening, it must be my lucky night," he shot you a grin that had your tummy somersaulting despite the unease crawling up your spine.

You laughed awkwardly, tucking your hands into your jacket pockets and shivering as the wind kicked up. 

"Enjoy your evening, Mr. Barber," you murmured, trying to step around him.

Andy shifted, blocking your way. His lips softened into more of a smirk when your eyes widened and you stared up at him, clearly caught off guard and nervous.

"You did it again," he tutted, shaking his head at you. "The 'Mr. Barber' thing."

"Oh." You blinked. "I-I'm sorry."

He hummed, watching you for a moment, something in his eyes making all of your hair stand on end. 

You had never been on the receiving end of a look that intense before. A look that predatory.

And it scared you.

"Let me drive you home," he suddenly proposed. 

"Oh, no, I'm sure it's so out of your way, I couldn't ask you to do that."

"You didn't, I offered."

There was a hint of challenge in his voice that had you squirming beneath his gaze, and also flashing back to the stern talking to your boss had given you earlier when he emphasized the importance of catering to the VIPs.

You felt like you couldn't say no.

You nodded slowly, forcing a smile as you breathed, "Okay, then. That would be great, thank you."

"Excellent," Andy rumbled. He shifted closer, touching his hand to the small of your back as he pointed to the black SUV idling by the curb a few yards away. "I'm just over here, honey."

Feeling the warm weight of Andy's hand on your back the entire walk to the SUV, you couldn't climb into the back seat quickly enough, sliding all the way to the other side of the vehicle as Andy settled beside you.

You gave your address to his driver when prompted, and a moment later, the dark-tinted divider was going up and leaving you and Andy to yourselves–and to a privacy you neither wanted nor knew how to navigate–as the car pulled away from the curb.

Once again, Andy began to pepper you with questions about yourself, these ones more personal than the ones he asked at dinner. 

"Do you live alone?"

"Are you close to your family?"

"Are you seeing anyone?"

Feeling shy at that last one in particular, you stuttered out a half-assed response confirming that you were not seeing anyone, breathing a little sigh of relief when you realized you were just a few blocks away from your apartment building.

You were almost home, almost finished with this strange, stressful night. 

Pulling your gaze from the streets whizzing by outside, you started, "Thanks again for the ride, oh!" you laughed nervously as you turned to find Andy much closer than before.

So close that you could feel the warmth of his body seeping into yours, his thick thigh flush against your own stockinged one as you pressed yourself against the car door to try to create any bit of space between the two of you that you could. 

"You're so jumpy, sweetheart," Andy purred, licking his lips as he tugged on the collar of your jacket before his touch trailed along your shoulder and down your arm. 

"I-I was just…surprised," you whispered, cringing a little at your lame response.

The SUV eased to a stop before the front of your apartment building, and you fumbled for the door handle, unable to find it as Andy leaned into your space even more. 

"Aren't you sick of playing hard to get?" he asked, scooping up your flailing hand and watching as you stared at him in shock. 

"I-I'm not," you quavered.

He cocked his head at you. "Aren't you though?" 

You watched as he pressed a bristly kiss to the back of your hand. 

"I would treat you so well, honey. Like my sweet, little princess. Fluttery nerves and all." His smile was boyish as he grinned at you, his eyes crinkling at the corners and making your heart flutter in your chest as he pressed in closer. "All you gotta do is give me a chance. You can do that for me, can't you?"

Your wide eyes watched as Andy's flickered from yours, down to linger on your parted lips, his destination within his sights as he closed the remaining distance between you.

You turned away at the last second, gasping as his lips touched your cheek instead of your mouth and you heard a soft, disappointed grunt get caught in the back of his throat. 

“Please," you whispered, tugging your hand from his. Your fingers shook as you finally found the door handle and pulled it.

Before you could get much further than that, Andy grabbed your other arm, keeping you in place–unable to scurry away from him like you so desperately wanted–as his dark gaze bore into you.

You struggled to meet those glinting eyes of his, but made yourself, wanting to get your message across loud and clear–once and for all–so all of this would hopefully be over.

"I know who you are and what you do and I," you took a shaky inhale, your gaze frantically drinking in the growing displeasure shadowing Andy's face. "I just don’t think it’s for me. I’m sorry. Really. I’m so flattered, you're so…so kind," you quavered, babbling now. "And handsome, and generous, but I… I just can’t.”

You pushed the back door open, nearly falling out of the SUV as you got your feet beneath you and Andy's grip on your arm fell away.

Catching his eyes one final time, you forced a small smile to hopefully soften your rejection before closing the door and nearly running inside.

From within the dark depths of the SUV, Andy watched you go, his handsome face twisting into a scowl as your figure darted up the stairs in the well-lit lobby of your apartment complex before you were altogether out of sight. 

Recalling your parting words to him, your sweet, trembling, "I just can't," Andy huffed in irritation, swiping a hand over his beard as he muttered to himself, “Oh you can and you will, honey, you’ll see.”

Your terror was like a living, breathing thing.

A companion to you in that moment as you shivered uncontrollably and tried to process what was happening, tried to make sense of something that was so completely and utterly illogical–incomprehensible–to your frantic brain. 

One moment, you had been peacefully asleep after a grueling shift that had ended with the epitome of an awkward encounter with Andy Barber, and the next, you were being dragged from your bed and taken from your home by an unknown assailant.

Now you hung from what you could only guess was a meathook, blindfolded as the rough ropes tied tight around your wrists chafed your skin and your toes barely touched the cold, concrete floor beneath you. 

For as long as the drive here had been, from the sound of tires rolling over gravel when you had arrived, and the loud, grinding screech of a door that had followed as you'd been manhandled from the vehicle, you guessed that you were in one of the long-abandoned warehouses on the outskirts of town.

Far, far away from civilization.

From help.

And at the mercy of you didn't know who as you shivered in your flimsy sleep dress and tried not to cry.

You could tell that you weren't alone, as you heard movement and quiet murmurs around you, and you could feel eyes on you. But the voices spoke too low for you to recognize them, their words too soft to register what was being said.

Unable to hold it in any longer, you asked the question blaring through your mind on repeat, your voice nearly breaking as you quavered, “Please, why am I here?”

“Oh, pumpkin, you’re here because I want to have some fun,” a smooth voice tinged with delight spoke from in front of you. 

You tried to see through the blindfold to your captor, but it was useless. However; you did hear him move closer, and a moment later, a big, warm hand was spanning your jaw and tipping your face up. 

“He was right, you are beautiful.”

“W-who was right?” You trembled. 

There was a light boop to your nose before your captor cooed, “Now that would be telling.”

He shifted and suddenly he was behind you, his big hands settling on your hips and slowly caressing higher, his touch burning right through your sleep dress until he was roughly groping your breasts and you gave a broken whimper as you recoiled. 

Doing so only pressed your back flush to your captor’s chest, and you could feel the scratch of a mustache against the side of your throat as he nuzzled along your skin. 

“The things I could do to you,” he hummed, groping your chest harder, until you were whining and trying to twist away from his harsh touch. “I’d wreck you so good, cupcake.”

He pulled away suddenly and you panted, your breaths coming fast and shallow in your panic as you quivered and suppressed your tears.

“But first, how about a little show?”

That was all the warning you got before you felt a cool touch to your neck. It took you a moment to realize what it was - the tip of a blade, and this time you couldn't stop your tears as you felt the knife skim down your throat to your shoulder. 

“No, p-please, please don’t hurt me. Please.”

“God, you’re so fucking sweet, I just wanna annihilate you,” he laughed, and then the blade carefully slipped beneath one of the shoulder straps of your sleep dress before tilting and slicing through it with ease. 

He cut through the other strap and you cried out as he yanked it down until it was fluttering off your body and to the floor, leaving you completely bare but for your cotton panties. 

He purred as he trailed the knife between your breasts, snickering as your nipples pebbled into hard little peaks from the cold and circumstances. Further down your stomach the knife moved, skimming just above the top of your panties until he was teasing along the cute little bow centering the teeny tiny waistband. 

“I could just eat you all up,” he murmured so close you could feel the warm wash of his breath against your lips and jerked away. “But that’s not why I’m here, unfortunately.”

You whined in fear and humiliation as his fingers dragged along the front of your underwear, teasing along the outline of your folds before his touch danced away. A beat later, the knife slit through either side of your panties, until they were falling away and you were naked before a complete and total stranger. 

And not just him. 

Because you could hear a quiet exhale a few feet away, another body shifting and a quiet metal creak. 

“Just a touch,” your captor hummed, planting his hand on your quivering belly and smoothing it higher, until he was fondling your bare breast and pinching your nipple hard enough to make you choke on a scream. 

He groaned, sighed in disappointment, and then shifted away, moving behind you before there was a tug at the back of your head and the blindfold was removed. 

You blinked rapidly, your eyes adjusting to the sudden light assaulting your senses and drinking in the dark, barren expanse of the warehouse around you, and then you saw him. 

Andy Barber. 

Casually reclined in a folding metal chair just a few feet in front of you. 

Your breath caught as shock rippled through you, tears spilling over as you stared at him, stunned.

“W-why?” You quavered, your voice breaking on that one word alone. 

“Because you had to learn,” he shrugged, unapologetic. “That you’re already a part of this world, just by knowing me. That there’s no escaping it, nor me.” He leaned forward in his seat, his eyes—much darker than usual—slowly trailing over your naked body. “Because you don’t get to tell me no. Because, sweetheart, I already own you.”

You started to cry, distraught and struggling to process what was happening. 

That Andy was behind this, that he would do this to you, something so awful and depraved and terrifying. 

The metal chair creaked as Andy poured himself to his feet, sauntering closer until he was looming right in front of you. 

His touch was so gentle as he placed a finger beneath your chin and tilted your face up until your watery eyes met his. Andy took a moment to wipe the tears from your cheeks with his thumbs, his touch lingering and caressing along your skin as his dark, determined gaze drank in your terror. And then he spoke. 

“You have a choice to make, honey. Either you can deny me again, for the last time, and I leave you here with Lloyd, to play with you as he pleases, and I guarantee you won’t survive the night.”

He paused to let his words sink in, lips twitching as your own trembled and you choked on a sob. 

“Or you stop playing hard to get, submit to me, as mine, for good, and you can leave here with me now, safe and sound and cherished, just like I promised you." 

It wasn’t a choice at all, and you both knew it, but as Lloyd shifted behind you, groping your bare ass with one hand and teasing the tip of his knife along the dip of your lower back with the other, you could only choose what you thought was the lesser of the two evils in that moment.

You chose to survive.

“Please, take me home,” you whispered as a single tear spilled over and streaked down your cheek. 

Andy hummed his satisfaction—his victory—nodding at Lloyd over your shoulder. 

You felt the other man shift away, and a moment later, the meathook holding you aloft was lowering, until your feet firmly touched the floor and Andy could remove your wrists from the hook. He held your tied hands in his, nodding again at Lloyd, and a moment later, he was using the same knife that cut away your clothes to cut through the ropes around your wrists and free you from your restraints.

Andy smirked as your legs wobbled to be on solid ground again and you stumbled against him, shaking like a leaf.

You sniffled, sinking against his chest as he gathered you in his arms, weeping quietly as relief washed over you, because it was over now.

Whatever this awful experience had been, it was over. 

And you were safe now.

“Shhh, you’re okay,” Andy murmured, pressing kisses along the crown of your head as he held you. 

You were just starting to appreciate his warmth in the painfully cold warehouse when Andy pulled away. He gripped your arms tightly as he watched you, something sparking to life in his gaze that had a chill zipping up your spine and a new wave of dread washing over you.

“Before we go, there’s just one thing you need to do," he murmured.

Your brows furrowed in confusion, and you swayed on your feet as Andy stepped away. In your periphery, you could see Lloyd perch on the edge of a nearby wooden crate, a wicked grin curling his lips. 

Andy returned to the metal chair a few feet away and sat, spreading his legs wide and nodding toward his feet. “On your knees, sweetheart. I need you to show me that you’re really all in, that you’re mine.”

You stared at him dumbly, uncomprehending and painfully aware of your nakedness as both men watched you without relent. 

“I, I don’t understand,” you whispered. 

Andy grinned at you, a boyish grin that was tinged with something challenging, something mean. 

“You’re going to use that pretty mouth for something other than telling me no,” he cupped the bulge growing at the front of his slacks. “Now get over here, get on your knees, and show me just how much you appreciate my patience, my protection.”

Shuddering at his lewd command–and the threat underlying it–you hugged yourself tightly, sniffling back more tears as you pleaded with him. "Please, don't make me. I'm sorry, for upsetting you for–"

Andy waved away the rest of your apology with a scoff. "Your pretty words aren't enough this time around, honey." He leaned forward, his eyes dark and glittering as his lips pulled back over his perfectly white teeth as he hissed, "Now get on your fucking knees and do what you're told."

Ignoring Lloyd's quietly amused, "Whoa hoe hoe," you swallowed down a humiliated sob before you shakily made your way toward Andy. 

“There you go,” he purred as you stiffly sank to your knees between his spread legs. “I knew you could be a good girl for me.” 

He leaned back, looming over you like a king as he watched your trembling fingers work open his belt, then the front of his pants. Just as you went to reach inside to retrieve his cock, Andy caught your wrist in a too tight grip that had you gasping in fear and going very, very still. 

“Better make it good, honey," he warned. "Better make me believe it, how grateful you are, how you’re completely and utterly mine.”

His unspoken “or else” hung heavy in the air and you could only swallow nervously, nodding as you met his hard gaze with big, terrified eyes. 

When Andy released your wrist, you did exactly as he said. 

Well, you tried to, but as you watched his cock twitch beneath his slacks, still out of your view, and you felt Lloyd's predatory gaze burning into you from a few yards away, you felt the urge to curl in you on yourself take over.

Panic lapped at you as you retracted your hands and hugged yourself. You met Andy's gaze with a pleading look, more tears spilling over as you whispered, “Please don’t make me, Mr. Barber—“

Your words died instantly as Andy's hand shot out and grabbed your throat, gripping hard and shaking you a little. “When you’re seconds away from sucking my cock, I really must insist that  you call me ‘Andy.’”

Whining as his fingers dug into your throat harshly, you tried to recoil, but found it an impossible task. “Andy, please. We can g-go out on a date, like you wanted—“

Lloyd barked out a mean laugh at your pathetic attempts to bargain your way out of this, and you flinched at the sound, shuddering as Andy tsked and tilted his head at you, giving a wry grin as his grip on your throat loosened.

“God, you really are too fucking sweet for words,” he breathed, shifting his grip on you so he could thumb along your trembling lower lip. “That offer’s not on the table anymore, honey. I’m done being nice. You had three months of rejecting me and getting what you wanted, now it’s my turn.” 

Without warning, he shoved his thumb into your mouth, pressing against your tongue until you were squealing and trying to pull away. 

And then he was gritting out an impatient, “Now get to work," before pulling his thumb from your mouth and reclining in his seat once more. 

Sniffling, and trembling still, you finally reached for him. Despite your fear and resistance, you still felt something throb within you once you finally revealed Andy's cock and saw how hard he was, for you. 

He was big and thick and felt like steel velvet in your hand, and his throaty purr at the feel of your soft, shy touch had traitorous slick pooling between your legs as you pressed your thighs together and tried to focus so you could get this over with.

You started with unsure, tentative strokes, part of you trying to draw out the inevitable, and part of you trying to remember how to even do this, because it had been ages since you'd been intimate with someone, since you worshipped a cock. 

And never on command and display like this.

“Let’s go, pumpkin," Lloyd's voice startled you as he urged you to, "Get to the good stuff.”

Feeling your face warm, and getting a glimpse of Andy's growing look of impatience, you pressed up on your knees and hesitated for just a second before licking a long stripe up the length of Andy's cock. 

He inhaled deeply at the drag of your tongue against him, at the way you shyly suckled on the tip of him, drawing out dribbles of pre-cum as your hand stroked and twisted around the base of his length.

As you moved in for another taste, Andy rasped, “Eyes on me.”

You stilled for a beat, your tearful gaze shooting up to his, and by the time your lips were wrapping around the head of his cock, a new wave of tears were streaking down your cheeks as you drew him into your hot mouth.

Andy's moans were wordless as his hand shot out to cradle the back of your head and hold you in place as his hips eagerly rutted up.

So it was Lloyd who commanded you now, his voice smokier than before as he groaned, “Yeah, that's it, pumpkin, get him all wet and sloppy." 

You came up for a breath, unable to stop yourself from glancing over at Lloyd to find him

gripping himself through the front of his pants, the outline of his hard cock clearly visible and making another rush of heat consume you. 

“Wanna hear those filthy sounds once he starts fucking that pretty throat," Lloyd hummed.

"Fuck," Andy grunted, gripping the back of your head harder and guiding your wide gaze back to him. "Do it. Do what he said. I want you an absolute fucking mess for me." 

Shivering, and feeling shame blanket you as more slick seeped from your pussy, you hovered over Andy's hard cock, gripping him firmly as you covered his cock in your spit and worked him with both of your hands for a beat. 

“Don’t forget the balls,” Lloyd chimed gleefully, making you pause your ministrations as Andy shot him a dirty look.  

“Do you fucking mind?” Andy gritted.

Lloyd's grin was cheshire like. “What? I’m living vicariously through you at the moment, Barber, gimme a fucking break.”

Rolling his eyes, Andy returned his attention to you, urging you closer to his cock with a firm grip on the back of your neck. “Relax that throat, honey.” He guided his weeping cock to your mouth before shoving past your lips, down your throat, and holding you there as you gagged and tried to recoil. “Mmm, fuck. I knew you’d make me feel so good, sweetheart. Been dreaming about this for months.”

And that was all the warning you got before Andy started to fuck your face in earnest. 

He was rough as he used you, his hips driving hard and unrelenting down your throat as he grunted and groaned at the feel of you, at the way you were whining and crying and resisting until finally going limp and sagging against him in complete surrender.

"Yeah, that's it, you know your place now, don't you, honey?" Andy husked, giving a particularly hard rut that had you gagging and struggling to breathe as you curled your fingers into his pants. 

From a few feet away, Lloyd groaned loudly, and although you couldn't see him, you could hear the sound of him beating off to the sight of Andy so ruthlessly owning you.

Although you knew it was wrong, although you didn't want to be here with them doing this, part of you must have enjoyed it–being used, the attention–because your cunt was weeping a steady stream of arousal and your insides were throbbing and clenching and desperate for something your logical mind didn't want at all.

Andy's thrusts became harder and faster–wild–as he gripped your head between both of his big hands and pistoned his hips against your face, feeding you every hard, steely inch of his cock over and over again, until your were dizzy and weak from lack of oxygen and your throat was raw.

Finally, Andy gasped, rutting hard and lingering in the deep depths of your abused throat before suddenly pulling his throbbing cock from your mouth as his briny flavor burst along your tastebuds, finishing himself with his hand as he aimed his cum at your face.

Still gasping for breath, you winced as he held you in place by the scruff of your neck and you felt ribbon after ribbon of his warm, sticky spend hit your face and dribble down. By the time he was done, you were covered in Andy's cum, your stomach burning from shame and humiliation as you distantly registered the sound of Lloyd reaching his own peak from just a few feet away. 

And at your expense.

Andy's satisfied hum was throaty and primal as he finally sagged back in his seat, completely spent, his broad chest heaving as he watched you with a feral, possessive look in his eyes.

He was still gripping the base of his spent cock as he arched a brow at you, expectant.

And somehow, you knew exactly what he wanted, feeling your stomach flip unpleasantly as a new wave of tears burned at the back of your eyes. 

Suppressing the urge to curl up and cry, you sank back on your haunches, wringing your trembling hands in your lap, hyper-aware of the way Andy's cum covered your face and neck as you met his dark, wicked gaze and trembled out a soft, “Thank you, sir."

Ignoring Lloyd’s loud guffaw, Andy smirked at you, nodding before gesturing to his now soft, spit-covered cock. “Clean me up like a good girl, and then we’ll go home.”

Feeling more tired than anything at this point, you didn't argue or delay as you moved close and cleaned the stray cum and spit from Andy's cock with your mouth before tucking him away and redoing the front of his pants and belt.

Just as you went to rise from between his legs, Andy gripped your shoulder and kept you in place, at his feet.

He watched you for a beat, his gaze searching and still predatory with that glint of meanness seeping back into his eyes, and you knew before he even spoke that your humiliation and debasement wasn't quite finished yet.

"You know, as much as I enjoyed that–" Andy started before Lloyd cut him off. 

"Fucking same."

Andy continued as if he hadn't been interrupted. "I can't help but wonder if you enjoyed it too, sweetheart."

You must have had a tell, perhaps a hint of shame or guilt or panic in your wide eyes as you stared at Andy, because he chuckled, grinning at you knowingly as he finally released your shoulder and sat back in his seat. 

"Sit back and spread your legs for me, honey."

"W-what?" you trembled, hugging yourself tightly.

Andy tutted. "We're really gonna need to work on that." You cowered at his look of displeasure, the way his beardy jaw ticced in annoyance. "Sit back and spread your legs wide, I wanna see just how much you loved sucking my cock."

Swallowing back a sob, you did as you were told, easing back into a sit on the floor before him and hesitating for a moment before you were shyly opening your legs to Andy's eager gaze. 

"Wider," he snapped, his eyes hungry as they got a glimpse of the shiny petals of your sex.

Biting your lower lip, you spread your legs as wide as you could, feeling the cool air of the warehouse warring with the sticky, hot folds of your pussy that were now on full display.

Humming, Andy leaned forward in his set, resting his forearms on his thighs as he stared at your cunt and the clear, undeniable evidence of your arousal. 

"I dunno," he purred with a wicked smirk. "I think I need a second opinion on whether or not you liked sucking my cock. What do you think, Hansen?"

You nearly snapped your legs closed as Lloyd sauntered closer, coming to a stop just over Andy's shoulder, but the latter's hard gaze had you maintaining your current vulnerable position, if only to make him happy, to be done with all of this.

"Oh, I think that's one drippy pussy," Lloyd observed, leering at you and licking his lips as he cooed, "Someone's all excited, huh, pumpkin?"

You finally lost the battle with crying, a sob hitching loudly in your chest as you pressed your legs closed and hugged them to your chest to hide.

Andy sighed loudly, shaking his head as he said, "You gotta learn, you're not allowed to hide from me, honey." Gesturing to Lloyd with two fingers, he instructed, "Hold her spread open for me.”

Lloyd grinned at your alarmed look. "With pleasure."

Before you could even think to move, let alone try to run or resist, Lloyd was settled behind you on the floor, his legs sprawled on either side of you as he wrapped an arm around your middle and yanked until your back was flush to his chest. 

You whined as his big hands smoothed down your bare thighs before he was gripping just beneath either of your knees with his hands and yanking your legs up and open, until your pussy was on obscene display for Andy's satisfied gaze.

Andy moved closer, until he was crouching right in front of you and you were trapped between these two, big terrifying men.

Shuddering, Andy just stared at your pussy for a long moment. His eyes were the darkest you had seen yet, his hands twitching before him, and then he was moving impossibly close, kneeling between your sprawled legs, and reaching for you.

You gasped as his thick fingers traced up the cut of you, his touch taking its time before he was swirling gentle circles around your clit. You couldn't help the way your body jerked and trembled at his touch, a soft mewl falling from your lips when the press of his fingers grew firmer against your clit and a sudden heat sparked to life deep in your gut.

Andy continued to pet all along your pussy, spreading around the copious amount of slick that was there and kept on flowing, and when his finger finally teased along your clenching hole, you whined, sinking back against Lloyd without thought and canting your hips in a silent plea for more.

A wordless offer.

Your complete and total submission.

Grinning, Andy teased a finger just inside your cunt, getting a soft, pretty moan from you before he was cooing, “This is such a pretty tight hole you have, sweetheart, I can’t wait to fuck it.”

"I think you should make her take both our cocks at the same time," Lloyd groaned, his touch growing more firm on your legs as he tucked his chin against your shoulder and avidly watched the way Andy gently fingered your pussy.  "There's no way this sweet little angel has been DP'd."

Andy laughed at the way your eyes fluttered open–wide and alarmed at Lloyd's suggestion–as you shot him a pleading look. "I think we should save that for another time. Gotta ease her into things."

"Boring," Lloyd huffed in disappointment.

Giving you another one of those pleased, boyish grins, Andy gently collared your throat with his free hand, aiming your glossy gaze his way as a second finger pushed in beside the first and he slowly, deeply fucked you with his fingers. 

"Feels good, doesn't it, honey?"

You nodded, mindless now, the fear that had been prevalent in your mind all night finally taking a back seat and deferring to the pleasure that Andy was wringing from your needy, wanting body.

You whimpered as he twisted his wrist, found that spongy spot with hardly an effort at all, and rubbed.

"Oh, my god!" you gasped, your back arching as you whined and tried to rut into the drive of Andy's fingers.

"Yeah, that's it, fucking give it to her," Lloyd grunted, nipping at the side of your throat.

"Oh, I think she liked that," Andy huffed a laugh. "Her pussy went wild when you bit her."

"Such a bad girl," Lloyd murmured against your ear, nipping your lobe hard and grinning when you moaned and rocked your hips into Andy's driving fingers even harder. 

"You wanna cum, sweetheart?" Andy asked. His hand dropped from your throat so he could start to rub at your clit as he railed you even harder with his fingers, faster, until you were keening and babbling and begging to cum.

"Please, please, Andy!" you whined, so very desperate to cum, to seek the height of your release, to feel your body ripple with it, to get lost in feeling good for the first time all night. "Please, please, please!"

Just as the tingle started at the base of your spine, just as your thighs began to twitch and your toes curled, Andy stopped.

You sobbed out a devastated, "No!" when he pulled away from you completely, his smirk mean and victorious as he sucked his messy fingers into his mouth and hummed at the flavor of your fleeting, unfulfilled pleasure.

"You don't really think you deserve to cum after everything, do you?" he laughed, rising to his full height and taking a moment to enjoy the sight of you at his feet.

Still covered in his cum, trembling and unsatisfied as you stared up at him, seemingly unaware of the way Lloyd was copping a feel and groping your breasts in his big hands. 

But also with that shine of want–of need–in your eyes. 

For him.

At last.

"Come on, honey, time to go home."

Lloyd huffed his irritation as he shoved you away from him and to your feet before rising to his own. "Good fucking thing I have my own needy, drippy pussy waiting for me at home, because otherwise this night would have been a complete fucking waste."

"But a well paying one," Andy smirked at him. 

Rolling his eyes, Lloyd spared you one final leer and a pat on your bare ass as he stalked past you. "Until next time, pumpkin."

You stared after him, still dazed and trembling. You blinked, then grimaced at the way Andy's drying cum was beginning to pull at your skin. When you lifted a hand to start to wipe it away, Andy caught your wrist in his.

"Leave it," he commanded, his eyes hard and daring you to resist him as he placed the softest of kisses against your palm.

Shivering, you blinked back your tears of humiliation before nodding. 

Andy's smile was slow to unfurl across his lips, but it was genuine, if not a little smug. A moment later, he was shrugging out of his suit jacket and carefully draping it over your shoulders, enjoying your relieved look and whispered, "Thank you," as he secured a couple of the buttons and gripped your arms through the thick material.

When he tugged you against him, you didn't resist, just sank against his chest and waited for whatever came next.

For whatever he wanted.

"Good girl," Andy grinned, pressing a gentle kiss to the crown of your head, and then another to your forehead. 

Giving you a final squeeze, he stepped back, touched a finger beneath your chin and tipped your messy, dazed face up to his. He pressed a final kiss to the tip of your nose, gentle as could be, and then he was giving a happy sigh, corralling you close, and leading you outside to take you home.

With him.

Where you belonged.

Hoe em geeeee. I just, have no words lol. But hopefully you do! Please take a moment to reblog, comment, or drop an ask - I'd love to know what you thought of this one. And I maaay have ideas for a follow up or two. One for Andy and one for Lloyd 😏 So pterodactyl screeching with me definitely helps keep the muse inspired!

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I want to ride Steven so slow and tender til he cries fam, just make him beg all sweet and pretty, kiss his forehead and eyelids and nose and mouth with as much leisure as he reads his books, ya feel?

Same, bestie, same. Really I just want to torture him like:

You push down the waistband of your pants just enough to let them slip the rest of the way off your hips, puddling at your feet. The movement catches Steven's attention, his eyes glancing up from his book. His mouth drops, a perfect little O that is so comical you nearly laugh. Next go your panties.

"Steven?" you ask mildly.

He shuts his book so, so slowly. He hasn't marked his page. His eyes are too busy being glued to your legs, your thighs, the place between your legs. His voice is an octave higher than normal when he asks: "Yes, love?"

"Can you get hard for me?"

He blinks. "I--am well on the way."

You point to the sofa, loving the awkward way he shuffles to it, nearly bashing his shin against the coffee table in his eagerness. His cock is hard, already, straining against the fabric of his slacks. You motion to it, brow raised, and his hands scramble to unfasten his pants, to shift them down his thighs so that his cock--long and thick enough to be pleasing, flushed a shade darker than his natural tan--pops free.

"What's gotten into you?" he laughs a little as you climb onto his lap. Any other question fades when you turn until your back is facing him, one hand reaching between your legs to find his cock and feed it into your aching cunt. "Oh, gods. You're so wet, love. Been thinking about me?"

You hum, shifting as you take the stretch of him, your thighs shaking a little with effort. At last you have lowered yourself down to rest against his lap. Sighing in pleasure, you lean back against his chest, craning your head so that you can search for his mouth with your own, kissing him filthy and slow.

You reach for the remote and turn on the telly--find one of your shows. After a few moments of stillness, Steven clears his throat softly (as if you could have forgotten him when he feels like he's guts deep inside you). "Are we--?"

"We're gonna sit just like this," you say, reaching an arm back to pet through his curls. "You're just going to be one of my toys today, keeping me stretched and filling me up. Yeah?"

All the breath goes out of him, expressed shakily against your neck. His cock jerks inside you, and you grip his curls a little tighter, tugging in warning. "Y-yeah?"

You hum again. "Be good, keep still, and stay hard for me."

And not ten minutes later, he's a mess, whining into the nape of your neck, toes curling and uncurling against the wooden floors as he tries to distract himself. His hands grip your hips, and sometimes you find him trying to move you, softly sway you on his cock. You pull his curls sharply, thrilling at the throaty groan he gives.

"Still, baby. Stay still."

His cock jerks.

"Steven."

"Can't...can't help it," he whines, breaths coming shallow and hot against your shoulder. "Oh please let me move you, love, please please--"

"I love when you beg," you sigh happily. "Know why, baby?"

"Why?" Steven asks, obedient even as he strains to be good for you.

You grin, letting your head rest back against his shoulder, turning to kiss at his sweaty temple gently. "Because I love telling you no, baby."

Sorry, Love

Summary: You and Steven had discussed the idea of somno, but never actually gotten round to doing it... until now.

Pairing: Steven Grant x fem reader

Rating: 18+ obvs, nsfw

Warnings/content: somno, desperate and pervy Steven, male masturbation, humping, mentions of using/being used, rubbing pussy with cock (idk what that's called), unprotected sex, p in v, cumming inside.

.................................

The idea of touching you in your sleep seemed somewhat alien to Steven. He couldn't grasp the thought that you'd want to be touched by him when you aren't even able to feel the pleasure yourself. However, the more he tossed the thought around in his head, the more excited he'd become with it. Of course, you explained the ins and outs of it to him (literally), and it's not like he's a novice at reading the signs from your body... hell, he's probably better at it than you on some occasions.

One night, after a considerable serving of vegan lasagna, you fall asleep on the couch with your head resting in Steven's lap, and that's when he's reminded of your conversation. His cock stirs under your head while he gently plays with your hair, his tongue darting out to lick his lips in hesitation. Carefully, his hand glides over his joggers and grips the outline of his cock to squeeze lightly and get himself hard; which isn't difficult. His other fingers trace your facial features, feather light touches contrasting with the grip he has around his buldge.

She's so pretty when she sleeps. He thinks to himself, a soft pant leaving his lips as he simultaneously runs his thumb over your bottom lip and the tip of his cock. Sliding his hand into his joggers, he pulls his cock out finally and gives himself a few harsh tugs. Your face is just centimetres away from his cock while he pumps his fist around himself, staring at your beautiful features. His thumb swipes over the tip again and that's when he lets out a soft moan of your name, his teeth latching onto his bottom lip in an attempt to not wake you with his noises.

It feels really good doing this, perversely good, he continues to think to himself, she has no bloody idea, not a clue in the world-

His hand starts moving faster, the intervals in which he teases the tip of his cock now becoming shorter.

I wanna cum all over her face- shit- I'm gonna cum on her.

His chest heaves, and just as quickly as he'd gotten hard, he cums over his hand and your face with strained moans, making sure to get it on your lips. The sight in itself would be enough to make him hard again, but he doesn't want to push his luck, or run the risk of freaking you out.

A few days later, he divulges what he did to your face, and much to his surprise (even after the discussion about it), you're not mad at him.

"Steven, i told you that it's ok, it's... hot" you say, chuckling a little bit as you finish your pancakes he'd lovingly made for you.

"God, are you sure? Please tell me if it made you uncomfortable, i mean yeah it was a good wank but i wouldn't want it to be at the expense of your comfor-"

"Steven! Shut up" you say as your hands land on his face, stroking his cheeks with your fingers which soothes him, "i like it, ok?"

"Right- yeah of course, sorry, Love." Steven presses his nose into the palm of your hand, closing his eyes to enjoy your touch.

"You can do more than that, too" you add and gently move your hands down his toned arms to his hands, which are still fidgetting in his lap "i wouldn't mind it if you wanted to touch me, y'know, in all the places you like." You bring his hands up to touch your chest while your eyes linger on his, the gesture making his body falter and his shoulders drop a little in submission.

"You know how to touch me, Steven, so do it, use me."

Those words make steven visibly shiver, you always know how to loosen him up and get him comfortable, and that's one of the things he loves the most about you.

Even so, after a week of waiting, Steven still hasn't taken the opportunity to indulge in his fantasies... even after multiple occasions where you've made yourself fall asleep before him with nothing but a baggy t-shirt on in hopes you'd wake up with his cock burried inside you.

As you get ready for bed and pull that same old baggy shirt on, you notice something is up with steven, almost like he's feeling on edge or ansty; but you know that look, the way his eyes rake over your body and his tongue laps at his lips, he wants you, and bad.

You take that as an opportunity as your tummy fills with butterflies; maybe if you leave him like this, he'll finally act on his impulses and fuck you awake, so that's exactly what you do. Walking right past him, you get into bed and snuggle under the sheets, though the way your body is already reacting with excitement makes it hard for you to drift off, but eventually you do.

Many thoughts roam around Steven's psyche, ranging from she wants this, she's told me she's ok with it, to oh god what if she doesn't though and i misinterpreted it. Despite his doubts, however, the urge has grown too strong, and once he carefully removes the covers from your body, he's reassured by the position you've chosen to fall asleep in.

With no underwear on and your right leg coming up to your belly, your ass is perfectly exposed to him, and he can see the way your slick glistens in the dim light of the moon. The sight makes his half hard cock twitch in his joggers, and slowly he crawls over to you, wrapping his whole body around you.

Now usually, that'd be the perfect position for steven to fall asleep in, because loves cuddling you more than anything in the world, but the way he can feel your ass pressing against his crotch makes that difficult for him. His breathing becomes laboured as he starts tentatively rolling his hips against you, the fabric rubbing against the tip of his cock in a way that he knows will stain them with his precum, but that's the last thing he cares about right now. His arms are wrapped tightly around you, and if you were awake you'd be able to feel his muscles constricting you in the best way, holding you in place while he uses you to get off.

His forehead rests on the back of your head, his fingers sliding over your skin and up to your chest where you cups one of your boobs; admittedly one of his favourite parts of your body. He circles your nipples with his index finger in the way that's been proven to work on you in the past, and even now, as your brain sleeps, your body pushes back on him, rocking your hips in time with his.

That gesture simply urges Steven on, and his worries soon melt away, leaving him with pure desire to use your body. His face burries in your neck before he starts talking quietly to himself... and maybe you, or at least your sleeping brain.

"Shit love, you have no idea how much i love this," he reaches down and takes his cock out of his joggers, sliding it between your thighs thanks to your arousal from just thinking about this scenario earlier. "Seems like you like it too... this what you wanted? Is this why you've been wearing nothing but this cute shirt?" He pants softly and his hips rock a little less haphazardly now, fucking your thighs like he does with your cunt. "God i wanna do this to you every night" he groans "i know how deep you sleep... wonder if you'd even wake up if i put it inside you.." he thinks outloud.

You stir a little, but not enough to wake, so Steven continues what he's doing and holds his cock to your hole "i wanna fuck you awake, love" he mumbles, though it's more of a whimper as he pushes in carefully but surprisingly easily "bloody hell, you really do like this, don't you?"

He pulls out slowly and pauses for a second before thrusting back into you again...

..And that's when you wake up.

Steven's whole body freezes against you when you tilt your head towards him, fear gripping his nerves as if he'd been caught robbing a bank.

"Fucking hell baby, finally" you groan sleepily to him, the tone of your voice a mixture of lust and sleepiness. "Been waiting for you to fuck me awake all week, Steven." You gaze at him with passion while your hand wraps around his wrist "keep fucking me baby, please."

That's all Steven needs before he starts thrusting into you again, his hips setting a desperate and fast pace as if he'd been holding back just for you. "Been wanting to fuck you like this all week, love" he mumbles, though it's more of a whimper "it's all I've been able to.. to think about." His groans are loud and breathy, so he buries his face in your neck in an attempt to hide it.

"You should've done it sooner-" your head rests back against his while moans fall from your own lips "I've touched myself thinking about this so many times baby" you add, which warrants a particularly loud moan from the man.

Sliding his hand down your tummy, he wiggles his fingers between your thighs to find that bundle of nerves, and when he does you buck your hips against his hand "fuck! Steven that's it- that's good.. shit you fuck me so well!-" Your grip becomes tighter on his wrist as your orgasm builds blindingly fast now; faster than you can tell him, but that's ok, he knows your body better than you.

"I can feel you, dove, please- ah- please cum for me, cum on my cock, darling-" it all comes out strained as steven holds back his own orgasm, his hips stuttering and holding on just long enough to feel you tighten around his cock. Your moans fill the room while your body convulses on him, his cock still mercilessly fucking you through your orgasm till you're shaking.

" 'm gonna cum love- shit!" Steven fills you with his arousal, your contracting cunt milking him fucking dry until he's twitching and whimpering with overstimulation.

You both stay still for a long time, calming down from your collective orgasms, and part of you wishes that you could just go back to sleep in his arms now.

Steven's the first to break the comfortable silence. "That really was great, darling" he mumbles softly with a yawn "are you ok?" He kisses your cheek and you turn to face him with a massive grin "more than ok, baby" you reply.

"Let's do that more often."

.

Tagging people: @red-hydra @steven-grants-world @automnepoet @the-king-87 @lokisremainingsanity @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

based on @nymphomatique's nerd!miguel au

CW: afab!reader, nerd!miguel, slapping, oral sex (f receiving), degrading, praise, got carried away, body worship, college students, smut under the cut!!!

"It's good enough, I guess."

Miguel just finished typing up a biology essay for you, his eyes slightly hazy from staring at a laptop for the past 2 hours. You were standing in front of your floor-length mirror, getting ready for the frat party you were planning on attending.

It took everything in his power not to stare at your body. The way the skimpy, black dress hugged your curves was a mouthwatering sight. Your freshly curled hair fell neatly over your shoulders, allowing Miguel perfect vision of your skin under your backless outfit.

His heart is racing faster than ever before as he watches you from the corner of his eyes. He places his laptop back in his backpack, before deciding that he has to say something.

He has to.

"You look... good" he manages to whisper out, half-hoping that you didn't hear it.

"Thanks." it was almost a mindless reply, like you weren't paying much attention to him. "Now get the fuck out."

"W-wait a second," Miguel suddenly gathers some courage as you brush aside his compliment. He knew you were somewhat of a mean girl, but he wanted to see this transaction through. "I... I deserve something - payment for finishing your homework for you."

You turn your head around to look at him, lifting an eyebrow.

"Yeah?" There's a bit of intrigue in your voice, but you're still harsh. He watches as you cross your arms and look at him in a demeaning fashion. It wasn't often that this nerd got the confidence to ask for any sort of reward. "And what exactly do you want? I'm not giving you money."

Miguel is a little shocked that you were willing to hear him out. "I-I'm sorry... I'm just..." He sighs cautiously.

You stare impatiently. He hesitates before forcing out his next words. "I just... I really like the way you look and-" his voice shakes when he notices the rude stare you're giving him. But he won't give up.

"Can I kiss you?"

"Just- you know, for doing your essay for you?" just as quickly as the words leave his mouth, he covers his face in shame. You laugh a bit at how dumb his request is.

"That's it?"

Miguel lowers his hands to look up at you. You can see the embarrassment painted all over his face. "You got all shy just to ask for a kiss?"

Your expression calmed and you relaxed your body language. He looked humiliated, feeling stupid for even asking that from someone as stunning and popular as you.

"Fine. C'mere." you wave him over dismissively.

He's taken by surprise, but doesn't hesitate to cross the room and approach you. His heartbeat is racing faster than ever before. Despite how he towers over you by almost a foot, he's staring down at you with doe eyes, like a lost puppy.

I can't believe I'm doing this.

You raise your hands to gently cup his cheeks, then bring his face in for a small kiss. Miguel's heart leaps into his throat when your lips make contact. It's so casual for you, but it's everything for him. A wave of euphoria washes over him, it's almost too overstimulating - to know he's finally able to kiss you.

He moans quietly and leans forward, trying to deepen the kiss. His mind races, his head spins. He's so giddy that he feels like he's going to die. All he wants now is more... so much more.

Your hands find his chest, pushing him back. His eyes shoot wide as you break the kiss.

"There. You got your reward. Happy?" Your hands rest on your hips while you speak nonchalantly.

"Y-yeah... super happy..." he chuckles nervously and runs his hands through his messy hair. It was kinda hot.

"Can I... can you do that again?"

"No, you've had enough." You return to your mirror, adjusting the little details of your outfit. "You got what you wanted. Now get the fuck out of my room."

"What?" despite how you were typically mean to him, he seemed to be surprised by that. "You can't... just be heartless like that."

That struck a nerve with you. "Heartless? You're calling me heartless?" There's a desperate look in his eyes, but you can tell that he doesn't have much courage to push the issue further. After all, he's just a nerd. But he can't shake the feeling your kiss gave his mind, his heart, his stomach, his cock...

"I did everything you wanted - I did your homework. I want something more... please." His body language shows that he's almost afraid of you and your dominatrix attitude. "Please, just one more."

"God, you're so pathetic..." you sigh, shaking your head. You can't help but laugh at his desperation - he clearly has never touched a woman in his life.

"Please..." he begs once more. "I want it more than anything..."

Something in his voice sends electricity up your spine. This is much more entertaining than that dumb party. "Mm, yeah? More than anything?"

You shove him back, causing him to stumble and fall onto your bed, his back making a thud on your mattress. "I don't think you deserve it, Miguelito... you haven't done anything for it."

His heart leaps into his throat. "I... I'll do anything. Please..."

"I want you to do something for me..." you grin with lowered eyes. "Can you guess what it is?"

"I don't know... I'm nervous." he didn't know what you meant. It made you roll your eyes. I mean come on, he was laying on your bed, with you practically on top of him - how could this dweeb not get the message?

You slap him across the cheek, hard. His cock twitches when he feels the sting, causing his cheeks to burn up in embarrassment. "You want another kiss? You have to earn it."

"Make me feel good."

---------------------------

He lets out a pathetic whimper when you sit on his dick, still clothed by his boxers. You haven't even started moving yet and he's already turning to mush. Virgin loser.

He watches anxiously as you reach for the elastic waistband of his underwear, sexily pulling them off. Fuck. What a sight. Proportionally, his dick is a pretty average size. But there was no way that it would fit all the way in.

A mean smirk forms on your lips as you stare at his boner, palming him gently and eliciting a frustrated whine from Miguel. "Your dick is so fucking pretty..." you mumble. "I don't know why you're so shy about it."

"Wait, re-really? You think so?" no one had ever seen his dick before, let alone call it pretty. His breathing shallowed.

"Mhm." Miguel whimpers again when you begin to stroke him, coating his entire shaft with all the precum he's releasing. "Aww, you poor thing..."

"You're already so whiny and I'm barely even touching you. You're such a baby."

"Please..." he breathes out.

"Please what? Use your words, baby." you don't call him "baby" as a pet name, you're mocking him. He tries to hide his face from you, but you grab his chin and pull it towards you so that you two make direct eye contact.

"Tell me what you want."

"You want me to use you, hm? You wanna be my little sex toy?"

Yes. Yes. Yes. He'd love that.

"Yes... please..." he whispers. He desperately needs your attention, so he'll take anything he can get. He'll be your toy, your lap dog, anything you want him to be. All those nights where he laid in bed alone, jerking off to the thought of someone wanting him, was finally becoming a reality.

Miguel's eyes shoot wide when he sees you lift up your dress, letting your panties drop to the floor. The frat party was long forgotten by you, since this was so much more fun.

"You wanna kiss me, yeah?" You smirk, crawling further onto him. His hardened cock leaks with pre, making you giggle a bit.

You hover over his face. "Then kiss me here."

----------------------------------------

He eats you like a man starved, needy for attention. Your hips roll firmly against his face, his mouth closing around your clit and suckling on it.

"Fuck- Miguel... so good." the nerd groans when your nails scrape at his scalp, gripping his dark hair tightly. His tongue explores every inch of your cunt, leaving behind traces of saliva as he licks and kisses the sensitive flesh.

Miguel feels his entire body tingle with joy. He's so excited to be pleasing you, to prove how good he is for you, that he's completely ignored his own needs. Lucky for him, the sound of your sweet moans are enough to get him off.

His hands grip your hips hard, pulling your wet cunt closer to his face as he feasts. His hands were sure to leave bruises later.

"Mm, god... yes..." he mumbles, the vibrations of his voice making your pussy throb even more. You grind against his face even more feverishly.

"Mig, I'm-" you sigh, trying to contain your moans as he gets more excited with his ministrations. "... 'm so fucking close, baby."

His hands run all over your hips and thighs, worshipping you like the goddess he thinks you are. His dick twitches some more, and his tongue becomes more furious around your hole.

"Mm- fuck!" you let out an unexpected wail as you feel your orgasm wash over you, your mind clouded with white. He eagerly laps up all of your juices, drinking in all of your release.

When you pull away from his face, you notice that he came too.

Miguel snaps back to reality after a moment, his cheeks flushing in a sort of embarrassment. He looks so fuckin' pretty. His hair is all messy, glasses discarded to the side, and of course, your sweet cum coating his puffy lips.

After you've caught your breath, you flash him a wicked smirk. He looks at you in panic. "Wh-What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

You sink down on the bed, lowering your face towards his cock - which was dripping with his release. His face looks worried, he knows what you're doing.

"Since you've been so good for me," you start, letting your lips hover just above his aching cock. "I figured I'd help you out too. It's only fair..."

He was gonna be in for a long night.

Poor little thing. Such a sweet boy.

CREDIT TO @nymphomatique FOR THE NERD!MIGUEL

tell me steven wouldn't pout with those stupid puppy eyes when you leave in the morning for work.

tell me he wouldn't sulk in bed for hours, painfully missing your sleepy cuddles and soft breaths.

TELL ME he wouldn't take your pillow and shove it under his hips as he ruts pathetically against it, whimpering your name.

tell me he wouldn't make a mess of himself just so you can clean it up when you get home.

actually, tell me he would.

pls.

Yes, Mr Miller

Pairing: dbf!Joel x babysitter!Reader

Summary: "You yourself wouldn’t consider Joel a friend, he was more so an acquaintance who paid you to hang around the house with his kid. A very handsome acquaintance."

Warnings: SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI), age gap (reader is 20-22 age range, Joel is mid 50s), dom/sub dynamics (dom!Joel x sub!Reader), verges on exhibitionism but isn't quite, fingering, cum play, degradation, praise, Joel has an absolutely filthy fucking mouth, no outbreak, Sarah is like 9, if I missed anything please let me know!

If you had to choose one word to describe Sarah Miller, it would be “firecracker." Not only was she the most energetic child you had ever met, but there were days you genuinely couldn’t keep up with her antics; she ran circles around you, bouncing excitedly before jumping into the pool and demanding you race her—so that she could show you how easy it was for her to win.

And you loved it. Babysitting her was a brief respite from your days of research papers and early mornings. You considered it luck that your parents had moved into the Miller’s neighborhood after you left for college; it meant job security when you returned home from school.

Your father had quickly bonded with Joel after the move over their shared, niche interests; the watch brand they both wore, the tools they used for odd jobs—it was sweet, really, to see two men with little outward emotion confiding in each other. Though you'd never heard either of them say it outright, the long nights they spent in your family's garage drinking and muttering football scores to each other was enough for you to deem Joel Miller your father's best friend. You yourself wouldn’t consider Joel a friend, he was more so an acquaintance who paid you to hang around his house with his kid.

A very handsome acquaintance.

When he called you that afternoon to see if you were around, you nodded against the phone, wrapping the wire in your fingers and enthusiastically accepting the offer to babysit. An opportunity to spend time with Sarah, and the opportunity to speak to Joel—no matter how short the conversation—was not one to waste.

It wasn’t like you actively planned to seduce your father’s best friend, but in your head, it was a fun game to amuse yourself with; you had never exactly been the sexually-outgoing type, and it was exciting to play around and flirt poorly with a man as stoic and flawless as Joel Miller despite the fact that you knew he would never acknowledge, let alone cave, to your shy advances. Who cared if every interaction was fuel for your late-night activities, alone in the dark with your fingers pressed against you? Who cared if you remembered every time he looked at you, and all the ways he brushed up against you?

Nobody had to know.

Clad in a sundress that let you show off maybe a little more skin than you should as a caretaker, you meandered down the path to the Miller household from your own. You rang the bell, always hesitating to walk right in despite the fact that Joel had told you countless times in the past that you could come and go as you pleased. Joel opened the door and gave you a brief up-and-down, letting out a playful whistle.

“Just babysittin’, darlin’, didn’t have to get all gussied up.”

 “It’s an old dress, Mr. Miller,” you blushed, always referring to him with the honorific, “not anything fancy.”

“Fancier than anythin’ I ever wore.”

You examined the well-loved flannel and jeans he wore, “That’s not saying much, is it?” You smiled up at him.

Chuckling, he ushered you into the house, and you leaned against the counter. You weren’t uncomfortable around Joel; he was a nice man, despite the grumpiness he exuded, and you’d known him long enough now to feel at ease in his presence—never mind the fire that ignited in you when he spoke. “Sarah’s out in the pool. You can order dinner, ’m good for it,” he grabbed his keys, “don’t know when I’ll be back.” He crossed his arms, biceps bulging through his shirt, mulling over any other details he had to share with you. “Remember where everythin' is? Food, bandaids?”

“Yes, Mr. Miller.” You spoke up. This had become the usual back-and-forth between the two of you: he would over-explain the job you’d been doing for two summers now, and you would let him.  

“I’ll have cash for you when I’m back.”

“Don’t need it.” This was another game you enjoyed—pretending you didn’t expect anything out of him. Obviously, you’d watch Sarah for nothing, you loved her, but a college student living with her parents didn’t necessarily have the room to deny money being offered to her. You did it more out of courtesy than anything, with the added bonus of getting to see the roguish frown he directed at you.

Joel made a noise in disagreement before opening to back door to call for Sarah. “I’m leavin’!”

You watched as Sarah, sun-kissed and still soaked from the pool, bum rushed her father, letting him kiss her on the head and exchanging “I love yous” and “be goods” before she turned her attention toward you, grabbing your hand and leading you outside. You smiled a goodbye at Joel as you were pulled through the door to the backyard.

~~~

You didn’t remember falling asleep. Not that anyone ever really could, but you had no recollection of setting yourself up on the couch and nodding off.

You woke up to the feeling of something gently brushing at your knee. Opening your eyes and looking toward the source of the touch, your hazy brain registered Joel standing in front of you.

“Sorry ‘m so late, darlin’.” He was speaking softly, but his voice still managed to come off gruff. You savored the gravelly sound, and the way the nickname made it seem as though he was apologizing to a significant other for coming home late, rather than a babysitter he paid to be there.

“It’s alright,” you rubbed your eyes, trying to delay the post-nap grogginess you already felt seeping into your bones, “what time is it?”

“Little after two,” Joel frowned, brow knit “should’a called you.”

“It’s alright,” you reiterated, “Sarah just ran me kinda ragged.” You explained why you were passed out on his sofa. “Gets harder to keep up with her every summer—makes me feel old.” You grinned, tugging the hem of your dress down to cover the bare skin of your thigh to retain a bit of modesty.

Joel watched your movements before quickly refocusing his attention to your face. “How’d’ya think I feel ’round the two of you?”

You smiled at each other, too tired to grasp the atmosphere of the compromising situation you had found yourself in. “I should get going.” You stood, but Joel blocked your path.

“Not this late on your own, y’shouldn’t.”

“It’s a five-minute walk.” It was more like ten, but you didn’t bother with details, trying to quell Joel’s anxieties.

“I’ll drive you.”

“Mr. Miller…that’s excessive,” you argued, “I’m a grown up.”

“Like hell—don’t want you walkin’ on your own. It’s dark," he put his hands on his hips, leaning down to meet you at eye level, "what would your daddy say?"

“Don’t want you to drive me if you’ve been working all day.” You muttered, ignoring the way his phrasing and tone nearly made your knees buckle.

“That’s sweet,” he quirked a brow, “get in the truck.”

~~~

You liked Joel’s truck, it smelled like him; sweat and shampoo and sawdust, with a hint of the cologne he wore. He’d driven you around plenty, but usually it was still light out, and Sarah or your father would accompany the two of you.

You were comfortable with Joel—but that comfort went out the window when you were tired and alone, with the man that consumed many of your private thoughts, late at night. You felt somewhat self-conscious sitting next to him now, watching him fumble with the keys and white-knuckle the steering wheel.

“Seatbelt.” Joel reminded you, bringing you out of your thoughts and allowing you to rejoin him in the waking world. You buckled yourself in.

“So…” Joel seemed to be aware of the tension, “What’s your plan, when you get your degree?” He attempted small talk.

“Dunno,” you were honest, “wanna stay here.” He nodded, starting the engine and peeling out of the driveway. “Don’t really see myself joining the work force. Not yet. I’m only a junior—still got time.”

Joel laughed softly, “Give it a few years. You’ll get sick of doin’ nothin’.”

“I’m not doin’ nothin’,” you mimicked his thick drawl, “working for you, aren’t I?”

“Hardly,” Joel glanced over at you, “not payin’ you nearly enough.”

“It’s a good thing I like Sarah, then.” You joked. You enjoyed this, the repartee you were experiencing with Joel. You had known him since you were 18; fresh and unsure of yourself. Not that much had changed, personally, but it was rare that you got to experience Joel all to yourself; it was riveting, and a little nerve-wrecking, but it was nice to be the center of his attention, especially considering he had always seemed to regard you as an equal.

“You’re a good kid, sweetheart.” Joel smiled, thumping a hand on your thigh, just below the edge of your dress. This was new. He had put a guiding hand on your waist or shoulder in the past, but this placement felt more intimate. You stared at it, letting the warmth that radiated from him drain into you.

“Thank you, Mr. Miller.” You squeaked, still enjoying the weight of his hand on your thigh.

“Why don’t you call me Joel?”

“Do you want me to call you Joel?” You peeked over at him.

“Can do what you want,” he explained, “but you’re the only person that ever called me that.”

“I like it.”

“Bein’ the only person to call me that?” He rubbed his thumb over your skin, and you could feel yourself blush, the fabric of your underwear damp.

“I guess. Like how it sounds.”

“Makes me seem respectable.” He grinned, and you leaned back in the passenger seat to appreciate his side profile.

“Aren’t you?” You pushed, emboldened by his sudden physicality and wrapping a hand around his forearm, tracing your fingers across the tanned flesh. You felt like a high schooler, so unfamiliar with flirting and making awkward somatic advances instead of addressing the crush you had head-on. Still, a shot like this wasn't one you were inclined to miss.

Joel pressed the brakes at the stop sign at an intersection concealed by foliage. “Do you think I am?” He felt closer to you now, despite being the same distance in his seat as he had been for the duration of the ride. He let you continue to clumsily hold onto him, his own hand tightening the grip he had on your thigh.

“I—I think so…” You stammered, lips parted, unwavering gaze set upon him.

Joel put the car in park. He leaned in close to you, removing your hands from each other as he shifted, his hand moving to cup your cheek. “Think I can prove you wrong.”

You breathed out, eyes dragging up and down his face, providing the tiniest nod of consent—afraid that if you moved too much he’d take his hand away from you.

He kissed you then, slowly, gently; he let you set the pace with small, closed-mouth kisses. His hand slipped below your jaw and the kiss deepened slightly, leaving enough space for him to lick and nip at your bottom lip. You let out a soft moan at the feeling, the way his stubble rubbed against your lips, and he grunted, smiling. Your hands drifted up to his chest, holding tight to the fabric of his shirt and encouraging him to come closer. He slipped his tongue into your mouth, and you sighed at the feeling. You couldn’t say how long you continued on like that; his hands in your hair and yours planted on his chest, tenderly exploring each other’s mouths.

You felt your panties sticking to you, and you subconsciously began to roll your hips atop the seat you were in, suddenly frantic to find some kind of relief for your aching clit. Joel noticed, chuckling at your desperation.

“Poor thing,” he tilted your chin up to look at him, “need me to help you?” His eyes were darker than their usual shiny umber.

“Yes, Mr. Miller—please.” You pouted, eyes wide, rubbing your thighs together, still hoping to dull the throbbing between your legs.

“Fuck, darlin’,” Joel reached down to help you hike up the skirt of your dress, “such good manners, so pretty comin’ from that sweet li'l mouth.” He traced a finger over your panties, running it along the seam of your pussy. You moaned, bucking your hips gently into his finger, and he smiled, tutting. “I know, honey.”

His smile faded when he felt the drenched fabric of your underwear, eyelids drooping slightly when he let out a gruff moan. “This all for me, darlin’? Tastin’ me get you all wet?”

“Y—es,” you managed to choke out, “yes.” His smile reappeared then, clearly proud of himself and infatuated with you. He moved your panties to the side, grazing his finger over your entrance to collect some of your wet before he began to knead your clit.

You grabbed his wrist, whimpering. “Oh! Uh-huh…” Your mouth fell open and you looked up at him from under your eyelashes.

“Don’t look at me, sweetheart—watch me fuck you with my fingers.” Joel lowered his hand from your clit and plunged two fingers into your cunt. You cried out, squeezing his wrist in your hand, feeling so full from only his fingers. You watched him pump his hand, fingers thrusting in and out of you, accompanied by a squelching noise as your cunt wept for him.

“Oh, yes—yes, Mr. Miller—fuck, yes!” You shrilled the only words you could remember, finally throwing your head back in ecstasy, no longer able to abide by the rule Joel had set for you.

“Young li’l cunt,” Joel pawed at himself over his jeans, still focused on the sounds coming from your mouth and your pussy, “fuckin’ tight f’me.” He pulled his fingers out of you, bringing them to your lips and silently encouraging you to lick him clean. You did, taking them both into your mouth and licking your juices off of him. He slipped one more into your mouth, watching you struggle to handle all three, cheeks puffing out.

His hand came down to your hole once more, and this time he pushed all three fingers into you, using your saliva and wet as lubricant to ensure that they all fit securely inside, stretching you out as best he could.

“That’s it…need’a open you up, darlin’,” he watched the effort it took for you to take his fingers, spearing you on the thick digits while you moaned wantonly. “How’ya gonna take my cock if I can barely get my fingers into this pretty pussy?” You bucked your hips into his hand upon hearing his words, striving to make him proud by fucking yourself open. “Good fuckin’ girl.” He watched you bounce your hips back and forth on his hand.  

“Mr. Miller it—fuck, want—want your cock.” You moaned out, wetness dripping from your cunt and onto the fabric of the passenger seat, the moisture sticking to your thighs.

Joel grunted, punching his fingers up into you and making you scream out. “Yeah? Want my cock, let me fuck you nice ’n’deep?” Your eyes rolled back, and you couldn’t be certain if you were more impacted by his movements or his words, both working in tandem to ensure you were made a mess of.

“Yes! Want your cock!” You let your fingers rub circles over your clit, trying to match Joel’s rhythm, however awkward it was due to the center console he had to lean over.

“Can’t fuck you here, sweetheart,” he didn’t stop, “what would people say if they saw a sweet little thing like you taking Mr. Miller’s cock in his truck?” He was teasing, and he pulled the straps of your dress down, letting the fabric bunch and exposing your chest to him. “They’d know what an easy fuckin’ whore you were.”

You whined, back arched, and he slapped your hand away from your clit, taking over completely. “Want them to know—want them to know I’m a whore for you.” You felt filthy, loving every second of it.

“Comin’ to my house, dressed like a slut every fuckin’ time—this what you wanted, girl? Wanted me to use you like a fuckin’ toy?” You felt his fingers make a beckoning motion, curling up inside of you and putting pressure on your g-spot. You scratched at the headrest behind you, slumping down to let Joel have complete and total access to you, letting him use you up to his satisfaction. Moans and whimpers of his name fell from your mouth as he continued his ministrations. “Yeah, you fuckin’ like that, honey—just needed to whore yourself out.”

“I—‘m gonna cum!” You felt the strain in your body increase, muscles tightening at the impending release of all the tension they held.

“Who’re'ya gonna cum for, sweetheart?” Joel pinched your clit before resuming the massage he’d been providing it.

“You, Mr. Miller, gonna c—um for you!”

“Tha’s’right. Cum for Mr. Miller, darlin’. Be a good girl and cum on my fingers.” He was demanding it; telling, not asking, you to soak his hand with your cum. You felt the gratification come to a head, and your back arched further as you cried out his name. Joel watched with wonder, jaw slack, as your cunt clenched around the three fingers he had buried inside of you. He felt himself try to rut against the fabric of his jeans, horny like a teenager after watching you cum for him with such intensity. But he had meant what he said—he couldn’t fuck you here, at this tiny intersection where anybody could wake up, come out, and see you both. As much as he would’ve liked to fuck you there, it was overruled by the want to do it properly, in a more private space.

“Good fuckin’ girl…so good f’me.” Joel slid his fingers out of you, feeling the aftershocks of your orgasm with every movement he made as you continued to squeeze around him. He sucked on his fingers, eager to taste the juices he had pulled from you. Your chest heaved and your body trembled lightly; when you looked up at him and saw him cleaning his fingers off, you found the strength to lean over and take one of the fingers into your own mouth. The two of you licked at each other around his hand, moaning and panting at the indecent display.

He dropped his hand, focusing on you entirely. If you hadn’t been tired before, you were now, and the satisfaction Joel had given you was enough to put you to sleep where you sat, while his lips brushed your neck and cheeks.

“Think I respect you more after that,” you leaned back in your seat, recalling the conversation that had led you to this, throat verging sore after the screams he had pried out of you. “Been wanting you for so long.” You sighed dreamily, looking up at him through hooded eyes and reaching over to fiddle with the collar of his shirt.

“Could’a said so,” Joel took the hand you had on his chest and kissed your palm, “would’a been happy to give you what you needed.” You rubbed at his stubble, and he kissed your hand again before letting it go. He leaned over to help you fix the straps of your dress, covering your breasts. You sat quietly before he started the car, and he continued to drive you home, placing his hand on your thigh again, holding tightly, as if now that he’d seen you in such an amorous, vulnerable way, you’d disappear. You put your hand on top of his, weaving your fingers around it.

When he parked in front of your house, the clock in the truck read 3:08—a drive that should’ve taken two minutes had taken an hour, and you were glad your parents wouldn’t be awake to question why it had taken you so long to get home. Joel looked at you, tired eyes conveying a glint of gratification when he smiled.

“Thanks for the ride.” You found your voice again, leaning towards him to analyze and appreciate his features.

“My pleasure.” He smiled, just barely, and took your chin in his hand. You stared at each other, not yet wanting to get out of the car despite the fatigue you felt all over. “Y’know,” he spoke again, still holding your face, “think I’ll need you to come over tomorrow.”

“Yeah?”

“Mm. Think you’ll be around?”

You smiled, letting yourself melt into his touch when his hand wandered over your cheek. “Yes, Mr. Miller.”

Share Your Blessings • Mob!Steve x Reader x Mob!Bucky

18+

Summary: Bucky's always known that you're his biggest blessing. A God-sent angel from above. Who's he to keep you all to himself?

Content Warning: Mob!Bucky x Reader established relationship, Mob!Steve x Reader, smut (buck gets cucked, daddy kink, degradation kink, oral sex, penetrative sex, voyeurism, overstimulation, creampie, objectification, fingering, spitting, blowjob, face fucking), slight angst, aftercare and fluff.

dedicated to @chirsevans just because

Steve loves coming over to yours for dinner. There's something about the dynamic between you and Bucky that relaxes him. Although you've been together for almost three years now, it's as though you're still in the honeymoon period.

"I don't think it's properly set," You say with a pout as you observe your cheesecake.

Just before your eyes have the chance to fill with tears, Bucky wraps his arms around you and holds you tight, kissing your cheek. "It looks incredible, flower. Doesn't it, Steve?"

"Oh, absolutely," Steve replies immediately, watching as Bucky pulls a smile from your pretty lips with a kiss to your cheek.

Once the sloppy cheesecake has been eaten, the three of you retire to one of the big couches in the living room. Bucky sits facing the left with you on his lap, and Steve takes his place on the other end. The fireplace warms up the room as the three of you bask in each other's presence.

"So I tell him; get it right this time, or you'll never be employed in New York again," Steve finishes off his story with a sordid smirk.

"You're so mean, Steven," You say teasingly, resting your feet on his lap. "You oughta treat people nicer."

"I treat you plenty nice, don't I?" He asks with a raised brow, making you laugh.

"Honey," Bucky whispers, lifting your chin up. "Give me a kiss."

You comply, reaching up to kiss him. His hand cups your neck while his tongue slips into your mouth. He usually isn't one for public displays of affection, but you welcome it.

When you pull away, you look back at Steve who was seemingly watching you the whole time. With a smirk, you raise a brow. "Enjoy the show, perv?" You press your foot gently against his inner thigh, dangerously close to his semi-hard boner.

Bucky just chuckles from behind you. He doesn't mind what a flirt you are when it comes to Steve, as Steve is the one who introduced you two to each other due to your flirty nature, knowing you and Bucky were suited. If you weren't so open and forward, Bucky might not have ever met you.

When Steve says nothing in response, you frown. "You okay, Stevie?"

Bucky brings his mouth to your ear and loudly whispers, "I think he's feeling left out."

A laugh leaves your mouth, before you sit up against Bucky's chest. "Come kiss me then."

Steve falters. Did you really just say that? He looks to Bucky for permission, but the brunette just shoots him a wink. Taking that as his green light, Steve leans over to you and gives you a soft peck on your lips. Admittedly, the alcohol in his system is making him more confident than usual.

You sigh when he pulls away all too soon. "A real kiss, Steven."

Once again, he looks to Bucky for approval who gives him a nod. Crawling over to you, Steve brings his lips to yours, kissing you deeper this time. You open your mouth and allow his tongue to slip and slide against yours as you let out soft whimpers. The kiss is hot and passionate, and the fact that your boyfriend is watching only makes it hotter.

Bucky's hand slowly slides under your dress and to your panties. Pushing them to the side, he rubs his fingers over your clit, making you shudder. "Fuck, Steve, you're making her so wet," He groans as the two of you pull away from the kiss. With a smirk, Bucky presses his cheek against yours and looks up at Steve. "It's only right that you taste it."

Overtaken by desire, Steve wastes no time in ripping your panties apart and burying his face between your legs. His tongue laps at your cunt, making your back arch against Bucky. Bucky's hand finds yours and your fingers interlock while you moan out. You've never discussed the idea of doing anything sexual with anyone else, but the spontaneity of the moment only fuels your pleasure.

"Just like that, Steve," You whine. "Eating my pussy so good."

"You like that, you little slut?" Bucky mutters into your ear. "You like having another man tasting what's mine?"

"Mmm, fuck," You groan, running your hand through Steve's hair as he sucks on your clit. "Keep going, please."

Steve happily obliges, swirling his tongue over your folds and poking it into your entrance, fucking you with it as his thumb rubs your clit. The absurdity of the fact that Steve is eating you out while Bucky whispers what a slut you are brings you to your orgasm quicker than ever, and your thighs squeeze Steve's head.

His face reddens at the lack of oxygen, but he doesn't care for breathing right now. He consumes your pussy juices with vigor, growling against you. In seconds, you cum all over his face, letting out a scream. Steve groans loudly, sucking every drop of your juice he can get. You loosen your thighs, allowing him to pull away and catch his breath.

"Fuck," You and Steve say at the same time, both of you breathing heavily.

With a dark look in his eyes, Bucky wraps his arm around your chest, staring up at Steve. "You need to know what the inside of my little whore's pussy feels like," He tells the blonde darkly. "When you have it wrapped around your cock..." He trails off, letting out a sigh. "Fuck. You'll have a taste of heaven, Rogers."

With his eyes on you, Steve pulls out his hard, swollen cock, making you gasp. You clutch onto Bucky's forearm, blinking. "Daddy, it's so big," You tell him with a whisper before looking up at him. "Bigger than yours."

Bucky smirks at your words, getting off on them. "It's okay," He assures you softly. "You'll take it for Mr. Rogers, won't you?"

Swallowing thickly, you nod. "Yes, daddy."

Bucky grins and gives you a sweet kiss. "Good girl."

Steve brings his cock to your pussy, teasingly rubbing it up and down, coating it in your slick. Once his shaft is covered, he sinks it into you, making you cry out. He's a little thicker than Bucky, stretching your pussy out as he fills you up.

"Daddy," You whimper, looking up at Bucky. "It hurts so good."

He chuckles darkly, stroking your hair. "Such a fucking slut, aren't you? Look at you; letting another man inside you like a little cockwhore."

His words fill you with delight. When Steve feels your cunt flutter around him, can no longer hold back. He begins pounding in and out of you, gripping your hips in his hands.

"Fuck, princess," Steve moans, lifting your leg up onto his shoulder and fucking you deeper. "You were right, Buck. This is fucking heaven."

Bucky smirks, filled with pride. "Good little fuckdoll, isn't she?"

Steve groans loudly, pumping his cock in and out of you while you let out feeble cries. "You're a lucky man, Barnes," He grunts. "Got this pretty little thing at your beck and call, every damn day."

Kissing your cheek, Bucky smiles, stroking your hair. "She's such a good little girl for me. Baby, look at me," He orders gently, tilting your chin towards him. Once your eyes lock, he lowers his voice. "I adore you."

Your pussy tightens at his soft words, making Steve groan as his hips move faster. The tip of his cock hits your cervix, making you feel faint with each thrust. Bucky's gentle cheek kisses keep you grounded, and before long, you feel the familiar knot build up in your core.

"Please, daddy, can I cum?" You ask Bucky, tightening your grip on his hand.

He looks up at Steve with an arrogant grin. "I've trained her well, haven't I?"

"Daddy, please," You whine desperately as your hips buck up. "I'm so close."

Steve pummels into you harder and faster, rubbing your nipples through your cotton dress.

"You can cum, baby," Bucky grants you, cradling your upper body in his arms. "Cum all over Mr. Rogers' cock, like the desperate little slut you are."

"Thank you, daddy," You cry out before letting go and letting your orgasm take over. Your eyes flutter shut and your lips part as you gasp, letting out pretty little moans.

Steve takes in how beautiful you are in this moment, and it makes him cum with no warning. His forehead falls forward to lean against yours and with a growl, he cums deep inside your pussy, filling you with his hot seed.

"Oh, princess," He groans under his breath, giving you a kiss. "So fucking perfect."

Bucky strokes your arm and whispers sweet nothings into your ear while you float down from your high. "I'm so proud of you, babygirl," He mumbles with a smile. "Did so well for daddy."

Meanwhile, Steve stands up and collects himself, zipping up his pants and putting on his suit jacket. When he looks back down at you and your eyes meet in an intense gaze, he reaches out his hand. "Give me a kiss goodbye, princess."

Seeing the soft smile on Bucky's face as his approval, you get up onto your knees and reach up as much as you can. Steve meets you halfway, bending forwards to kiss you deeply. His hands trail down your body until they reach your legs, which he pulls up and wraps around his waist. As your tongues dance, Steve lifts up your dress and spanks your ass, making you gasp. He slaps your ass a few more times, making you whimper into the kiss.

"Calm down now, Rogers," Bucky says sternly, leaning back on the couch and taking a sip from his glass of bourbon.

Steve brushes his lips against yours, smirking. "I bet you miss my cock already, don't you?"

Instantly shy, you hide your face in his chest as your cheeks heat up. Steve gives Bucky a cocky wink, but the brunette stays calm.

"She knows where she belongs," Bucky utters coolly.

"Is that right?" Steve asks with a raised brow, before lifting up your chin. "You know where you belong, princess?"

You nod meekly, with your hands resting on his shoulders. "Mhm."

"And where's that?" He asks with a mutter.

You smile widely before looking over at Bucky. "With daddy," You say bashfully.

Bucky's lips curl up slightly and he gives you a wink.

When you feel Steve's hand trailing over your ass and back down to your pussy, you gasp, looking up at him with wide eyes. He slips his fingers back into your soaking cunt, letting out a low groan. "I can feel my cum inside you, princess," He whispers, slowly pumping his fingers in and out of you. "Filled you up good, didn't I?"

"M- Mr. Rogers," You breathe out, digging your nails into his shoulders. "Please."

The sound of your pussy sucking his digits fills the room as he fingers you sloppily, making his cum and your juices drip down your thighs. You bite down on his shoulder in an effort to hide your moans, but when he curls his fingers inside you, you can't help but moan his name.

"That's it, princess," He says softly, fingering you faster. "Cum one more time for me. Show me what a good slut you really are."

Bucky watches on in silence, seeing the way your face contorts so beautifully as his cock throbs against his pants.

When Steve curls his fingers again and just hits that spot, you feel the string snap and immediately tighten your legs around his waist. "I'm cumming," You tell him with a cry as your third orgasm hits you like a wave, drenching you in pleasure.

He continues sliding his fingers in and out of you as your cunt throbs against them, making him groan. "Fuck, princess, your pussy is gold."

You let out a few shuddered breaths against his neck as you come down, utterly weak and broken apart.

Looking over at Bucky, Steve raises a brow. "You sure I can't take your fucktoy home for the night? I promise I won't break it."

Having reached the extent of his graciousness, Bucky stands up. "In your fucking dreams, Rogers."

Gently, Steve puts you down on the ground, holding onto your hands while you find your strength. "Goodnight, pretty princess," He mumbles, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

"Goodnight, Mr. Rogers," You reply sweetly.

Him and Bucky share a silent nod and Steve then walks out, leaving the two of you alone.

Walking over to you, Bucky lifts you up into his arms and carries you to your bedroom. There, he sits you down on the bed before turning to the walk-in closet to find you both some pyjamas. When he doesn't say anything, you feel your heart thud in your chest.

Nervously, you kneel on the bed and lean forward off the edge. "Daddy?" You ask quietly, biting your lip. "Are you mad?"

He returns with a pile of clothing with a frown on his face. "Why would I be mad, baby?" He asks you softly, sitting next to you and pulling you closer to him.

Bashfully, you look down and play with your fingers. "I- I let him cum inside me."

"Oh, baby, look at me," He says soothingly, cupping your face and making you look up at him with a sympathetic look on his face. "Isn't that what you were made for, hmm? Being a good little cumdump?"

You giggle at his words, nodding. "Yes, daddy."

"That's right," He replies, wrapping his arm around you. "You did so well for daddy tonight."

"I did?" You ask timidly.

"So fucking well, made me so proud," He promises, making your heart swell before giving you a sweet kiss. "I love you."

His words light you up and you grin warmly at him. "I love you more," You promise, before slowly trailing your finger down his chest and to his crotch. Before you have a chance to rub his boner, he takes hold of your wrist.

"No, baby, you've had a long night," He whispers, kissing your cheek. "I want you to rest."

"No," You whine, rubbing his boner anyway as he sucks in a breath. "I wanna make sure you know where I belong," You tell him coyly, before dropping down to your knees and looking up at him with an innocent look. "Right here."

He can't protest any further as you take his throbbing cock out of his pants and into your hand. Tilting your head, you open your mouth wide, not needing to say a single word for him to know what you want.

Leaning forward, Bucky pouts his lips together and lets a long string of his spit fall out and onto your tongue. He strokes your hair before spitting into your mouth once more, his eyes darkening.

You close your mouth and swallow his saliva before wrapping your lips around his cock, immediately taking him deep into your throat. Bucky lets out a loud groan as you begin to suck him off, hollowing your cheeks around him.

"Oh, fuck, so good," He cries out, leaning back on his palm while his other hand takes hold of your hair, helping you bob up and down. With a growl, he forces you further down and begins fucking your face, his cock twitching each time you gag.

You bring up your hand and start playing with his balls, rubbing and squeezing them. Bucky lets out glorious noises as you utterly overwhelm him with pleasure. He cups your face in both his hands, wiping away the tears that escape your eyes.

"Such a good little slut for me," He groans lowly. "My perfect little fucktoy."

You moan onto his cock and the vibrations are enough to send him over the edge. With a cry of your name, Bucky cums into your throat, his hips bucking up as he fucks into your mouth sloppily. You make sure to swallow every drop, and continue sucking him once he's done. He shivers at the sensation, his sensitive dick being sucked dry by your talented mouth.

"My good little cumdump," He whispers, slightly convulsing when you finally pull your mouth off of him.

Grabbing your arms, he pulls you up onto his lap, kissing you. His tongue laps at the residual cum on your lips as he swallows his own seed, moaning into your mouth. Your tongues stroke one another and he cradles you in his arm, falling backwards to lie on his back while you straddle his chest.

"Such a good little girl," He whispers, stroking your back. "So good to daddy, aren't you?"

You kiss his neck, wrapping your arms around him. "I love you, daddy."

"I love you more," Bucky instantly replies, believing that he truly means it. "There's absolutely nothing that I wouldn't do for you, my pretty girl. Nothing."

Clutching him tighter, you snuggle into him, warm in his tight embrace. The pile of pyjamas lay forgotten, sprawled out on the floor, as the two of you slip into a deep slumber.

masterlist

hi! i no longer use a taglist, but if you follow @kinanabinksupdates and turn on notifications, you'll know when i update 🥰

Hear me out.... Steven with a praise kink 👀

You jokingly call him a good boy (because I call him my human golden retriever) and BAM. Confused boner! You take advantage of it and keep teasing him.

(Marc and Jake would never let him live it down, either)

Ijcioajfidi HELP. THIS. AHHH. I’m not sure why chess playing came into my brain. But here we are, reader likes and plays chess and is pretty good at it.

(Side note: in one typo I wrote ‘chestboard’ instead of ‘chessboard’. You just know my subconscious is thinking about Steven’s boobs.)

Good Boy

Steven Grant x F!Reader Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist | ao3 | want to be tagged?

Warnings: INSTANT BONER, p in v sex, teasing, swearing, typos, rail road sentences, please let me know if I’ve missed a warning!

Word Count: 2147

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“So, think about how you would stop me.” You said as you looked from the chessboard to Steven. 

His brow was furrowed in concentration, his glasses pushed high on his nose. A few rough curls dangled over his forehead as he bit softly at his thumb in thought. 

“I could move here?” 

“That’s really good.” You smile. “Excellent move, because you’ve also stopped my bishop.” You point to the piece on the board. 

Steven smiled. He liked chess, played against the computer occasionally. But it wasn’t much more than a way to pass the time. 

However when he found out that you had won some amateur competitions when you were in school, and that you still played regularly, his excitement at the prospect of playing a game with you was so completely heart-warming that you instantly said yes. 

In the first game, you’d been determined to go easy on him. Just to get a feel of Steven as a player. You’d accidentally won in less than ten minutes. 

There had been a small tinge of panic, a worry that, like some of the previous partners you’d had, he would be annoyed. Instead Steven grinned, thrilled that you’d beaten him and sung your praises until you were so positively overwhelmed you had had to kiss him repeatedly to get him to stop. 

This was your second game. He had asked in that delightfully enthusiastic way he had if you could play again, “if it’s not too much trouble love, and you want to of course, don’t want to be annoying, do I? No. But I’d love it if you could teach me some strategies?” 

“So I’m going to move here,” you picked up your knight and moved it slowly. 

Steven frowned. “But then I can take it?” 

“I know.” You grinned. 

He paused and looked at you, unable to stop himself from smiling at your glee and then nodded. “Okie dokie, there’s something I’m not seeing then.” 

“Is there?” Your innocent tone didn’t fool him for a second. 

“There definitely is.” 

You chuckled, looking back to the board. “Good boy. Look, take your time, but don’t worry if you can’t find it, I’ll explain.” 

There was a long pause. You frowned a little and glanced back to him. His eyes were a little wide, his cheeks dusted with pink. He was sitting stiffly now, his hand clenched into a fist with his knuckles pressed against his mouth. 

“Steven?”

“Hmm.” The sound was too quick. He didn’t look up from the board.

“You okay?” 

He nodded, a short sharp and very un-Steven-like movement. 

You paused for a second, looking at his features carefully as you wondered if Marc or Jake had fronted suddenly. Though, why they would try to hide it from you, you weren’t sure. 

On further inspection you were pretty sure that it was Steven. 

“You sure you’re okay.” 

“Yeah, yeah.” He mumbled and swallowed, looking through the board and not seeing it. 

“Okay…” You swallowed, watched him for a moment longer before you pointed at your rook. “If you take my knight, I’m going to take your pawn with my rook and you’ll be in check. You can’t take the rook with your queen because then you’d be in check here. So you’d have to move your king like this, and then I could move my other bishop and you’d be in checkmate.”

You looked up at him, chewing your bottom lip. Had he had enough? Was he bored? Fed up of your explanations? 

“Okay. Right. So I won’t do that, I’ll move here.” He spoke quickly, still not looking at you. 

You nodded, watching his move. “Good, so…”

The moment ‘good’ left your mouth Steven sucked in a breath, shuddering. 

A sound you very much recognised. 

Oh.

You quickly thought over your previous conversion: move this piece, are you okay, take your time, good boy-

Good boy. That was it. 

A small smile stretched across your lips. Steven was still staring, fixated, at the chessboard and didn’t notice. He moved his piece silently. 

You waited a beat before you spoke. “That’s a great move Steven, good boy.” 

He shivered straight away, his breathing hitched. He tried to cover the sound with his hand as he closed his eyes.  

“What’s wrong Steven?” You teased slowly. 

His eyes snapped up to yours, wide and embarrassed. 

“Don’t you like being called a good boy?”

The smallest groan grumbled in his chest, his muscles tensing. 

“Or, is it that you like it a little too much? Hmm? Being my good boy?” 

His skin flushed with heat as he glared at you. His eyes dark. 

“What?” You bit your lip as you grinned. “A good boy would answer questions when asked.” 

“Please.” He whispered.

“Please what?” 

“Please stop. Marc’s taking the piss.” 

You frowned, the playful tease dropping from your tone. “Why’s Marc taking the piss?” You’d done kinker stuff with all of them, Steven liking being called a ‘good boy’ wasn’t really something to write home about. 

Steven sighed, pouting a little as he closed his eyes and took his hand away from his mouth. “Because I’ve got a hard on.” 

You bit back the giggle that wanted to spill from your chest. Something about him having to close his eyes to say it was just so perfect. “So?”

“It happened the second you said it.” 

“The very second?” 

“Hmm.” Steven kept his eyes closed. Interesting.

“So literally, I said it, instant boner.” 

“Yep.”

You couldn’t resist one playful tease. “So, if you’re in a park and you hear some say good boy to their dog, is it bam, erection?”

Steven shifted a little as you said those two words, trying his hardest not to moan. His cock was pressing, painfully hard, against the stiff material of his jeans. “No.”

“No?”

“It’s never happened before. And now- Marc, shut the fuck up.” His voice was a little needy until it came time to address his alter.

“Marc behave.” You said kindly. “So… it’s only ever happened now?”

“Hmm.”

“When I said it?”

“Yeah.”

“What happens when I say it again?” You whispered. 

Steven squirmed a little, even the thought of you saying it getting him hot under the collar. “Feels… nice. Sort of.” He pushed at his throbbing cock with the heel of his hand and opened his eyes, his head slightly drooped. 

“Sort of?” 

“Yeah, like… you know, he jumps to attention every time you say it.” He blinked heavily, his cheeks burning. God, you must think he was a right little freak.

“Good boy.” 

He groaned, unable to stop the sound in time and looked up at you. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t nice that you were making fun of him like Marc and… oh. 

Realisation dawned. You were biting your lip and smiling. You liked it. A lot. 

Steven swallowed audibly. 

Slowly you stood and walked around the table to stand beside him. Steven pushed out his chair a little, angling it so that he was facing you. He went to stand but you gently pressed on his shoulder. He followed your command and stayed sitting down, looking up at you with pleading eyes. 

He played at his jumper sleeve nervously as you watched him. His dick hard and pulsating with need, throbbing in time to his heartbeat. 

He swallowed again. “Love-”

“Good boy.” 

He moaned softly, screwing his face up as his cock twitched at your words. 

You bent down quickly, grabbing hold of his cheeks and kissing him deeply. Using his brief surprise to slip your tongue into his mouth and push him back against the chair. 

Steven whimpered against you, his hands coming up to hold your shoulders and the back of your neck as you ravaged his mouth and robbed him of his breath.

“Good boy.” You muttered between the kisses, swallowing his hushed whimpers and soft moans. Revelling in the way he pulled you tighter, needy and desperate for anything you’d give him. 

You brushed your hand against his groin, squeezing the outline of his cock. 

“Fuck!” Steven hissed, clawing at your top and thrusting up into your touch. The rest of his words were lost as you kissed him hard and lightly bit his bottom lip. 

You trailed your lips down to his jaw and neck, sucking at his pulse point and pushing him even further back into the seat. 

His breathy moans sent a wave of heat along your spine to your core, twisted in your belly and overwhelmed every thought. 

You squeezed his cock again, the heat of him radiating through your hand. “Good boy.” 

The words barely left your lip before Steven answered you with an accompanying groan, his length twitching against your palm. 

You moaned, so dizzily high with the sounds of his pleasure. Without thinking you undo his belt and unzip his jeans, pulling his trousers and boxers down to his calves in a hurried motion with a little help from Steven as he raises his hips. His cock springs free, needy and weeping with need. 

You take him in hand, stroking him twice before pulling his jumper over his head. He whines at the loss, chasing your mouth and kissing you urgently the second the material is off and on the floor. 

With your lips desperately pressed to his you pull down your own trousers and underwear, kicking one leg free and not bothering about the other as you take his length back in your hand and straddle his thighs. 

Him being so worked up, so desperate for you when you hadn’t even touched him is a stronger aphrodisiac that anything you’d ever experienced.

You don’t even give him a second to react before you’re lining him up with your already soaking entrance and slowly sinking down. “Such a good boy Steven,” you breathe, your voice rising in pitch at the end as he inches deeper, his thick cock splitting you so wide. 

He moans headily, pressing his face into your chest and mouthing at the tops of your breast through your top. 

“Love, you’re so wet.” He bites his bottom hip, his fingers pressing against your waist hard enough to leave bruises. 

You pull at the back of his hair slightly, scratching your nails along his scalp as he finally bottoms out. He pulses within you, twitching and aching and so, so close already. 

“You’re my good boy, aren’t you Steven?” 

He whined against you as you rocked your hips, quickly starting to lift yourself up and sink back down, setting a brutal pace as you began to bounce on his cock.

“Such a good boy letting me use you like this.” 

Steven moaned, chasing your hips and thrusting deep. He was drunk on you, needed you. Every moment, every word you said sent waves of pleasure through his body and made his head spin. 

Even in his intoxicated state his muscle memory kicked in, bucking up into you perfectly to make you see stars. Each spot that would break you apart memorised and stored deep within his very soul. 

He fucked up into you harder, growling with his desperate need. His leg kicked out and caught against the table's edge, rocking the chessboard and knocking pieces over. 

The sound just loud enough to register in his mind. “Sorry, I-“

“Doesn’t matter Steven, please,” you moaned. At this angle the head of him constantly pressed so deep, rubbing consistently over that special spot and not even giving you a chance to breathe. No pause or reprieve from the oncoming onslaught of pleasure that threatened to overtake you. 

“Gonna cum, gonna cum,” you whined, your thighs shaking and thrusts growing sloppy. 

Steven growled, grabbing hold of your hips and pistoning upwards, not allowing your pleasure to dip. “Please, please, please, cum on my cock, please love, please. Tell me I’m your-”

“You’re my good boy.” You came dizzyingly hard, your fingers digging into Steven’s shoulders and leaving marks. 

But he didn’t care. Couldn't care as you squeezed and fluttered around him, moaning ‘good boy’, and shaking as you fell apart in ecstasy. 

Steven gasped, the air catching in his throat, the pleasure so potent it was like his heart stopped. He came deep, hot and thick, his hips still thrusting to prolong your high and to fuck his spend deeper into you. 

You held each other tightly as you recovered, breathing hard, sweat sticking to your skin. It was only then that you pulled off your top and bra, discarding them on the floor with the rest of your clothing. 

Steven nuzzled into you, softly kissing along your collarbone as you stroked his hair. 

He chuckled suddenly and you moved back every so slightly to look him in the eyes. 

“What?” 

He grinned, dreamy and love sick, up at you. “Marc’s changed his mind. He’d quite like you to call him ‘good boy’ too.” 

____________________________________

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