Blorbo Thought Of The Day #1

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.”

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.”

Taking Control

Pairing: Steven Grant x f!reader, Marc Spector x f!reader

Summary: Steven's jealousy over your coworker prompts him to step in and explore his dominant side.

Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, 18+ ONLY, no use of y/n, toxic/ jealous behavior and brief argument (mostly from the boys but reader gets kinda petty too), inaccurate depiction of DID, dominant/ possessive Steven, teasing/ taunting, dirty talk, begging, spanking, fingering, edging, oral (m receiving), rough sex, p in v, creampie

 WC: 4.8k

A/N: two jealousy fics in a row…sorry not sorry. Also, I know Marc is acting like an irrational ass in the beginning and sorry if you don't like seeing that type of toxic behavior, but he's being over the top/overly dramatic on purpose so hopefully it doesn’t rub you the wrong way. Plus reader says some pretty petty things in response lol

You had a long day ahead of you. In addition to the normal workday, you were asked to take your new coworker, Scott, to dinner just to welcome him and give a run-down of the project your department is currently working on. You meant to text the boys and let them know you didn't need a ride, but you had rushed out of the house this morning and left your phone behind. Luckily, you always leave a note on the fridge telling them not to pick you up whenever you forget to let them know the night before. They know to check there before leaving, so you assumed they'd see it.

You realized it might have been a foolish assumption to make when Scott stopped by the office before taking you home so he could grab some files he left behind. When you arrive, the familiar black sedan sitting alone in the parking lot has your heart dropping to your stomach. You’re pretty sure that they’re here due to miscommunication, but you haven’t had your phone on you all day so you begin to worry that something may have happened, and they couldn’t get a hold of you.

Your coworker must sense your concern since he asks, “What’s wrong?” and looks at you confused.

“Um…nothing.” you reply, unbuckling your seatbelt and slowly making your way out of the car. Scott rounds the front, and your boyfriend climbs out of his car, slamming the door behind him. You can tell your coworker is a bit taken back by the mysterious man in front of him, so you speak up.

“Scott, this is my boyfriend…” you intentionally pause to allow whoever is fronting to introduce themselves. You're almost positive it's Marc based on the deep scowl on their face.

“Marc,” he says while crossing his arms.

"Oh, nice to meet you. I’m Scott.” Scott sticks out his hand as he introduces himself, but Marc doesn’t even look at him. You give him an apologetic look for your boyfriend's gruffness.

 "Babe, what are you doing here?" you inquire, still worried something's wrong.

“Picking you up,” he responds bluntly.

"Oh. Sorry I didn’t text you; I forgot my phone. But I told Natalie to let you where I was if you stopped by looking for me," you reply coolly, relieved that everything is ok, but you sense the irritation in his voice.

“She told me where you were,” he says bitterly, and he turns his head to glare at the man next to you. This is the first time he has acknowledged Scott, and you honestly wish he would’ve just kept ignoring him. Marc is usually a bit standoffish when it comes to meeting new people, but he’s never outright rude, so you’re a bit taken back at his demeanor.

“Have you been here all this time?” you ask incredulously. You’d been gone almost two hours, meaning that he had all that time to stew in his anger, which is clearly about to boil over.

“Yeah, so let’s go,” he impatiently answers.

You turn to Scott. “I guess I'll see you tomorrow. I hope I covered everything. If you have any questions let me know."

“I will. I was thinking we could exchange numbers, you know, in case I- “, before Scott can finish speaking, Marc is pulling you towards the car.

“Thanks for dinner!” you shout to him as Marc opens your door and guides you into your seat hurriedly. Scott gives you a puzzled look at the abrupt goodbye and you flash him yet another apologetic look. Hopefully he'd forget about this whole thing come Monday.

Marc is pulling out of the parking lot before you can even buckle your seat belt, and you turn to him, looking displeased.

“You really embarrassed me back there,” you say and Marc scoffs.

“Yeah, well how do you think I felt?” he snaps.

“What? You were the one acting like a jerk. You knew where I was. I told Natalie to tell you what was going on.” He doesn’t respond and you feel a wave of frustration wash over you as you realize something.

 You fully turn to him, arms crossed, and head cocked to one side. "I also left a note on the fridge. Did you remember to check there?” you ask, brow raised. He doesn’t answer, but judging by the look on his face, you can tell he didn’t. Now it’s your turn to scoff.

“How many times do I have to remind you to check there before you leave?” You shake your head. This isn't the first time he's shown up when he didn't need to. You remind him constantly to check, but it doesn't seem to make a difference.

“You know, maybe I'll start leaving my own notes. I'll be sure to let you know whenever I'm going out on a date with another woman," he snidely remarks.

You let out a dry laugh. You just can’t believe how ridiculous he’s being. He's acted jealous before, but it's usually just an excuse for him to get you into bed, show you you're 'his'. But this time it seems genuine.

“It wasn’t a date! He’s a new hire and I was asked to welcome him to the office. It was purely professional. You have no reason to be upset,” you respond.

"I saw the way he was looking at you, like he was planning on having you for dessert. I bet he was acting like that all night. That prick has no shame," Marc grumbles, but you just shake your head. "You're imagining things," you respond annoyedly, and he huffs.

You spend the rest of the ride in silence as you mentally prepare yourself for a night of sitting on opposite sides of the couch waiting to see who apologizes first. But by the time you pull into the apartment, your irritation has started to dwindle, and you realize you're really not in the mood to fight, so you decide to set the issue aside for now and revisit it when he's calmed down a bit.

You step through the door, set your stuff down, and turn to him. "I know you're upset, but why don’t we just talk about this later? Let's have a nice, quiet night snuggled up on the couch. How's that sound?" you suggest, then pull him to you and press a gentle kiss to his lips.

He hums against your mouth, then pulls away. Leaning his forehead against yours, he mumbles, “I don’t know, maybe I should go spend a few hours with some random woman you don't know, since that’s apparently how this relationship works now.” You scoff and shove him away.

“Just let it go! You know what? Maybe I should’ve gone home with Scott. It'd be nice to be around someone who knows how to act like an adult. I bet he at least has the awareness to see when he's wrong and get on his knees to apologize.” You know it's a bad idea to mention Scott's name again, and an even stupider idea to mention going home with him, but you’re so frustrated you don’t care how Marc might react. If he's going to be petty, so are you.

You turn around to head to the living room, wanting to give him a second to calm down, maybe come to the realization that he’s being ridiculous. To think he would let your little comment slide was stupid of you, and you realize that when you feel him whip you around and press you up against the wall. You know you shouldn't keep egging him on, but you really want to mess with him to get back at him for how he's been acting. So, against your better judgement, you continue.

"Hey, I'm sorry, I didn't mean that," you say softly and pull him closer, eyes now boring into each other's.

"I wouldn't go home with him. Why go to the trouble? What I should’ve done was pulled him into the bathroom, spread my legs for him and given him a nice warm welcome to the team,” you say, tauntingly.

You see his eye twitch slightly and he takes a deep breath, probably trying to keep his cool. By now you'd have expected to see that playful smirk on his face that means he's about to take you to the bedroom and shut you up, but he just continues to stare at you. Your goal isn't to genuinely upset him, so to avoid provoking him any further, you wipe the smirk off your face and look at him with wide eyes and small pout on your lips instead. 

“I want Steven,” you whine. Since it doesn't seem like Marc's going to let this go anytime soon, you're ready for Steven to come out. Ready for him to tell you he agrees that Marc is being ridiculous and apologize on his behalf, by way of shoving his face between your thighs, preferably.

He's never able to resist, especially when you ask for him like that, so you stare up expecting to see those soft eyes and that warm smile appear. Marc doesn’t waiver, though, and you think maybe he's blocking Steven out, determined to remain in control.

Marc cocks his head and asks, “You want Steven? Yeah?”, in mocking tone. 

“Why? So he can come out and spoil you? Let you keep acting like a brat?” That’s exactly what you want, and he knows it, so you can’t help the small smirk that reappears on your face.

“I don't think you know what you're getting yourself into. Why do you think he’s stayed silent this whole time?” You raised a confused brow, and now he’s the one wearing a smirk.

"You really want Steven?" he asks, and you nod your head at him slowly.

  "Fine. But you’re going to regret it.” And with that, his eyes close then reopen and his smirk is replaced with a fierce glower, a look so unlike Steven, you think it may still be Marc. It sends a shiver down your spine, but you also feel your insides clench. You don't know if you should be startled or turned on, so you choose both.

 “Steven?” you barely squeak out.

“Aren’t you happy to see me?” he asks, derisively. His hand comes up and grips the back of your neck and he pulls you close. Your breath hitches at the closeness of your lips.

“What? Did you expect me to come out and beg for forgiveness for Marc and then get on my knees for you like a good boy? Let you walk all over me like I usually do?" he snaps.

 While you're definitely the more dominant one when it comes to the two of you, there have been a few occasions he has tried to take control. But he's never gotten very far because Marc always steps in and takes over. You’re momentarily worried Steven holds some resentment for the dynamic you two have, but the way he’s licking his lips as he stares at yours, or rather the hardness you feel against your leg, makes you realize he's just finally ready to unleash this other side of him.

Now that you understand what he wants to do, you feel the ache between your thighs intensifying. Wanting to see what he has in store for you, you decide to test what will happen if you try pushing his buttons like you were doing with Marc only moments ago.

“Of course. That’s what your best at, isn't it? You think you can teach me a lesson like Marc?" scoff. "You don’t have it in you,” As you taunt him you wear a smug look on your face that he's very tempted to fuck off of you.

His eyes darken, then he looks off to the side, and there's no doubt Marc is talking to him; you assume either urging him to take action or demanding to step in and do it himself. You attempt to bring his attention back to you.

“It takes a real man to put me in my place. Like Marc. Or Scott.” And with that he’s pulling you from the wall and pushing you to the room.

He tosses you face first into the mattress and grips the top of your pants. Before he goes any further, though, he’s brushing the hair away from your face and you crane your neck further to look at him. His voice softens and he asks, “This is ok, right? If not, I'll stop, so please tell me.”

You give him a small smile and push your ass back, grinding it against him. “I want it so bad, Steven. Give it to me, hard. Please.”

He sighs, relieved to know he didn’t misinterpret the situation. Also, hearing you plead like that, a tone usually reserved for Marc, sends a rush through him. And then just like that, the gentleness is gone and he’s pulling your pants down and off of you, then tossing them across the room. He settles his hand on the small of your back and leans down to admire the wet patch left behind on your underwear.

He smirks, “This all for me? I do this to you?”

You’re about to give him a desperate, ‘yes’, but before you can, he pulls the fabric up taught, and it wedges deliciously between your folds. You gasp in surprise but follow it with a moan.

“Or is it from Scott?” he says and pulls your underwear side to side, and it swipes over your clit each time. You squirm against the mattress, loving the feeling. You don’t answer him, so he tugs upward on your underwear and, at the same time, lands a quick but firm slap against your ass. You squeal. You continue to ignore his questions in hopes that he’ll do it again. 

This time he gives you a harder slap, and does it again and again until, through gritted teeth, you moan out, “No, for you. All for you.”

He hums in acknowledgment then roams your sensitive skin with his fingers and gives your plush cheek a firm squeeze. You whine at the delicious burn.

Deciding to give your ass a break, he tears your underwear off and flips you over. After ridding you of the rest of your clothes as well, he spreads your legs and settles himself between them. He examines you and then runs his fingers through your folds, gathering the slick forming at your entrance.

“You really get off on this don’t you? Look at you, you practically dripping just from a few spanks." You feel your skin heat at the comment, and you simply nod your head.

“Just a desperate little thing begging to be used,” he says and continues movements, toying with your entrance and intentionally avoiding your clit. The sensation and the filth flowing from his mouth makes you shudder. You’ve never heard him talk like this and you love it.

Getting a bit impatient with the slow, teasing motion of his fingers, you grumble, “C’mon, Steven,” and grab his wrist to move his hand to the bundle of nerves begging to be played with.

“You know I need more. Give it to me," you demand.

Caught up in the frustration of his teasing, you’ve reverted back to that commanding tone which typically has him happily falling into submission. But now, he's having none of it. He’s finally in control and he’s not letting go, not for you or for Marc. He lands a quick slap to your mound, and you gasp as it sends a bolt of pleasure straight through you. You want more, but before you can ask him to do it again, he squeezes your clit and begins rolling it between his fingers.

"Oh, god Steven!" you squeal and arch your back, prompting him to quicken his movements. The action alone has you on the edge, but before you can cum, he's pulling his hands away. You let out a long, dramatic, whine and open your mouth, ready to complain, but he covers it with his hand.

"No more whining. You'll take what I give you," he says and squeezes your thigh in a harsh grip.

" Thought I was going to let you cum already? Silly little thing, you'll cum when I decide. I'm not done playing with you yet," he says, and you can feel the fresh slick dripping from you in response to his condescending tone.

He removes his hand from your mouth and grabs at your chest while he brings his other hand to your entrance. He slips two fingers in, easily, and you sigh at the relief of finally having something inside you. The delicious sting of him tweaking your nipples combined with the drag of his fingers against your walls quickly brings you to the edge a second time, but all too quickly he's pulling both hands from you and denying you your release once again.

You let out what sounds like a sob and pound your hand against the mattress. You keep getting so close and he rips it away from you every time. The frustration has you on the brink of tears and your lip juts out in a pout. You're not used to this. Marc wasn't lying when he said Steven spoils you. He usually dotes on you and is always more than happy to give you exactly what you want, whenever you want it. He's ready and willing to submit to you and put your pleasure above all else. That's the treatment you're used to. Since you're not accustomed to him denying you pleasure, or anything for that matter, the irritation is written all over your face.

"You’re an asshole. Where’d you learn that from, Marc?” you ask, with more than a little sass in your voice.

Not thrilled with your tone, he undoes his belt and frees himself from his pants, then climbs up your body until his hips are angled towards your face. "I'm getting quite sick of your attitude, love. Let's put that mouth to good use, shall we?" he says as he strokes himself pushing into your mouth. The angle is a bit awkward but the sight of him has your mouth watering and you swirl your tongue around his tip as it breeches your lips.

His head falls back and he sighs. He lets you suck on him just like that for a few moments before he's guiding you further onto his length. He hits the back of your throat, pulling a gag from you, and he feels your throat contract around him. He groans at the feeling and does it again. His thrusts have your spit thoroughly coating his length and even dribbling down your chin. He bites his lip at the sight.

 "C'mon. Get it nice and wet. Yeah, just like that," he says huskily. He throws his head back again and his eyes fall shut. The feeling is heavenly and he has to pull out of your mouth, knowing if you keep sucking him like that, he'll cum down your throat.

He moves down your body, landing between your legs, and you wrap them around his hips. He goes to line himself up at your entrance and you buck your hips and pull him closer. As you feel his dick brush up against you, you let out a pathetic whine, almost delirious with the desire to feel him inside you. He chuckles at your desperation and can't help but tease you further by running his length through your folds.

"You want it? Yeah?" he teases, and slaps his tip against your clit repeatedly. You look at him, tears threatening to spill from your eyes, and beg, "Don’t tease me.”

"What do you mean?" he asks mockingly as he continues sliding his dick against you. It keeps catching on your entrance over and over, but he still refuses to push it in.

"Why are you being so mean?" you ask, and your voice cracks. The sensation is getting overwhelming and you get the urge to reach down and push him in yourself, but you know he'd never give you what you're asking for if you did that, so you stop yourself.

"What's wrong? I thought you liked it. I've seen you writhe under Marc, begging for him to fuck you. That usually gets you what you want, right? So c'mon, beg for it," he demands, and grabs your chin, forcing you to look him right in the eyes.

You're quick to respond, wanting to do exactly as he asks, in hopes that he’ll finally take pity on you. “Please, Steven, I need it so bad. I'll do anything, just please fuck me. Please!"

He feels heat pool in his stomach from hearing you beg for him like that, and he can't hold back any longer. He grabs you firmly by the hips and pushes into you slowly. He groans as he watches his length disappear as you take him to the hilt. “See what you get when you ask nicely?” he says, breathily. Your jaw goes slack and your head falls back at the relief of finally being full of him.

After you've adjusted to his length, he throws your legs over his shoulders, pulls you closer, and leans over you, effectively folding you in half.  The new angle has him reaching so deep in you that you gasp, and it morphs into a broken sob when he begins slamming into you roughly.

He's satisfied at how you're falling apart around him, but he has to focus to keep himself from doing the same thing. The sweet noises you let out with every thrust and how he feels your walls clench around him has his breathing becoming increasingly ragged. He gets lost in the feeling and falters, and his movements slow down. He leans his forehead against yours as he gets lost in your warmth, and whines into your shoulder.

 The change in pace interrupts your previously rapid ascent towards your climax, and you whine right back. "Harder. Please," you beg and reach down and grab his hips, trying to urge him to go faster. He kisses your neck and continues the slow, deep, strokes. It feels good but you need more. You need it harder, faster, and begging is not working, so you opt for the alternative.

 "You're losing your edge, Steven. Maybe I should have Marc come out and do it for you," you threaten. Not appreciating the insinuation that he can't fuck you like Marc can, he snarls and flips you over. He slams back inside you and pushes the side of your face into the mattress.

"Oh please. Please. Please…" is all you can say as he resumes hammering into you, and it has you rocketing towards your release again. You become a babbling, whimpering, mess underneath him as he sets a punishing pace, his dick hitting that tender spot inside you relentlessly.

"I need to…to cum Steven. Please. Please can I cum?" you plead, needing to feel the orgasm he's denied you over and over again.

"Considering all the things you said earlier, I'm not sure you deserve it," he replies, yet he wants nothing more than to feel you pulsating around him as you reach tumble over the edge. He's seen Marc deny you for hours so he's tempted to see how far he can push you. But he feels his own release building, so he'll have to try that some other time.

"I do. I've learned my lesson, I promise. I won't-" a particularly deep thrust pulls a throaty moan from you, and you try to remember what you were even saying, but it seems like he fucked the thought right out of your head. All you remember is that you were begging so you try again. “I…Please. I need it so bad. Please let me cum."

"Say you didn’t mean it," he says, followed by a low groan as he slides in and out of your drenched hole. The way you’re gripping him has his hips stuttering, and he takes a deep breath to steady himself.

"Wha…What?" you mumble, not really sure what he's asking.

"Say you'd never let a prick like Scott touch you. Tell me you'd never let him inside you," he commands.

You remain silent, willing yourself to compose a coherent thought. He wants you to look him in the eyes when you say it so he pulls out, puts you on your back, and slams himself back inside you in one quick motion. It has your head spinning and you can't do anything but moan and whimper as you feel him stretching you.

"Say it!" he demands harshly, and the tone has you clenching hard around him. He tilts your head by the back of your neck, forcing you to look him in the eyes, and grabs at your chest harshly with the other.

“I wouldn’t let Scott fuck me. Ever. I don’t want anyone else,” you pant.

" And why is that?" he prompts.

"Because I'm yours," you profess. "All yours. No one else can have me."

 "That's right." A small smirk forming on his face at your confession. “Who’s the only one who can make you feel this good?”

“You,” you reply, breathily.

“Who?"

“You…” He keeps asking until you finally realize what he wants to hear.

 “You, Steven! Only you can fuck me like this!" you cry out, and in return he lets out a low moan as your words wash over him. It makes him fuck you deeper, so you continue.

"I’d let you do anything you want to me. Anything…anything…anything…” you repeat like a mantra as he continues snapping his hips into you.

His eyes briefly flutter shut as coil in his stomach tightens. He looks at you again and brings his thumb to your clit, forming small circles that have your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

"You can cum. C'mon, cum for me," he commands and as the last word leaves his mouth, your orgasm hits you full force. Your body stiffens under him as you let out a silent scream and drag your nails down his back, feeling the shockwaves pleasure rip through you. He lets out a long groan at the sensation of you clenching down on his dick and your nails dragging across his skin. It pushes him over the edge and he lets out an animalistic grunt spills himself inside you. He's above you, panting, as he continues grinding into you until he's empty.

After a moment or two, he collapses on top of you. You two lay like that as you both steady your breathing and attempt to come down from such an intense high.

 As you run your fingers through his hair, you hear him mumble, “I still like being your plaything. You know that, right?" into your neck and you chuckle. “Just like wanted to see what it was like taking control," he adds as he lifts his head to meet your eyes. You pull his lips to yours and give him a quick, yet searing kiss.

 “Of course I do, baby," you respond, lovingly.

“I do have a request, though. Next time you want to try something new, can you make sure it doesn’t involve acting like an irrational jerk and scaring my coworkers?” The request is more so intended for Marc, seeing as he was the one intimidating Scott earlier, but Steven responds.

“Sorry about all that. I just wasn't thrilled about this Scott guy," he confesses. You raise an eyebrow at him, surprised because Steven has never been the jealous type. Now, normally he isn't, but something about seeing you climbing out of some guy's car, skin a bit flushed from whatever drinks you had at dinner, just didn’t sit right with him. Then, when he saw Scott's eyes glued to your ass as you stepped out of the car, something just came over him.

"Marc suggested I learn to let these feelings out in the bedroom like you two usually do and I guess that was his way of stepping in and helping me do that. I did warn him to tone it down, I promise, but you know Marc…" he says, looking at you apologetically.

“Don’t worry, I'll make him pay for it later," you say, smiling at the thought.

“We can make him pay for it now by going for round two. He’s been begging me to let him out. Says he's dying to get his hands on you.” He grins at the idea of you denying an already incredibly frustrated Marc what he wants.

"Tell him not a chance," you say as you roll both of you over and straddle Steven. He feels a thrill run through body as he already knows he'll be the begging, pleading, mess this time.

yet another sugar daddy Ari 🥺🫣🥵🥵✨

warnings: age gap, daddy!kink, spanking, sugar daddy Ari, smut, minors dni, 18+

Ari loved showing you off. He loved taking you to his stuffy charity galas and parading you around like you were his little trophy girlfriend — which you were. Well, you were actually his sugar baby, but same difference. The bottom line was that he loved showing you off to other men who desired you and women who were jealous of you.

He’d buy you a pretty little dress — either an elegant gown or a strappy little cocktail dress, depending on the occasion — and it was always tight. He’d also cover you in glittering diamonds, and inform you to never leave his side unless he said so, or else. He’d press his hand to the small of your back and cart you around like you were his property, and you loved every second of it.

Tonight’s dress was form-fitted satin in the most gorgeous deep nude shade. Indecently short enough that several women had already given you disapproving looks. Not that you cared. What did it matter that Ari preferred to dress you in as little as possible? He liked making you wear barely-there dresses that showed off your curves, and he never allowed you to wear a bra because he liked the way your nipples would poke through the fabric. And panties? Forget about it.

But that didn’t mean you wouldn’t be bratty tonight. Seeing Ari looking so delicious in his three piece suit with his long hair combed back? Oh, of course you’d be a little daring.

“Daddy, this event is stuffy and boring,” you complain, running your manicured nails up and down the lapels of his expensive suit. You knew deep down he loved how high maintenance you were, and he’d happily fund your frequent hair appointments, manicures, pedicures, makeup, clothes… anything you wanted.

“Boring?” Ari quirks a brow, rubbing your back soothingly, “you want to go home, baby? You feeling okay?”

Ugh. Of course he wasn’t just your sugar daddy who fucked you good and paid for anything you could ever want. Of course he had to be the nicest guy on earth too. But you took that as a challenge to push him to his limit.

“No, but I wish your friends weren’t so boring.”

Ari pinches your ass, “don’t be a brat, princess.”

That was code for: be brattier, so daddy can punish you.

You stick your chin up, “Maybe I should go hang out with Mr. Barber over there. He looks kinda lonely, doesn’t he? I heard he’s no longer with his wife…”

That comment has you bent over the sink in the ladies’ bathroom (which was thankfully empty). And okay, so maybe you shouldn’t have brought up Ari’s mortal enemy, but as you said before, you’d been feeling extra bratty. And now, your daddy was pressing his crotch against your butt, and you can’t help but smirk.

“Don’t look so smug, little girl,” Ari warns, running his hand up and down your back and making you shiver.

“I’m not smug, Ari.”

He narrows his eyes, “Don’t call me that.”

You don’t know why you’re pushing him so much tonight. Maybe it’s because he hasn’t punished you in a while now. Maybe it’s because things have been way too sweet lately, with Ari taking you out on romantic dates and shopping trips. Maybe you need a bit of thrill tonight, a bit of adventure. A rush of adrenaline. Or maybe you’re just a brat.

“Call you what, Ari?”

“Oh, baby girl. You’re in for it now.”

He rips your dress in half. And you were so not expecting that—because he’d literally gifted you this dress today! And it was Versace for crying out loud! What the hell was wrong with him? You’re about to ask him just that when his palm cracks against your bare ass. Hard.

“OW! That fucking hurts!”

“Good. You deserve it for disrespecting me.”

“Why? Just because I called you Ari? Which, by the way, is your name—OW!”

He slaps your ass five times in succession, each slap harder than the last. Harder than he’s ever spanked you before.

“Watch it,” he warns, although you can feel how hard he is. You know he likes it when you’re bratty, you know how horny it gets him to put you back in your place, to exert his power over you and remind you of how he’s in charge. “I had a diamond bracelet waiting in the car for you, but maybe I’ll return it if you don’t stop misbehaving.”

You scoff, “Return it. I don’t care.” (You do care).

He spanks you several more times, till your ass is stinging with that delicious pain. And of course you’re wet too, your slick running down your legs because getting smacked on the ass by Ari always gets you wet.

“You’re really asking for it tonight, aren’t you? But remember, you can only push daddy so far before it comes back to slap you in the face.” Ari grabs your ass cheek and jiggles it lewdly before smacking you again. “Or in your case, your ass.”

You have two options in front of you right now. You could give in, apologise and enjoy a thoroughly good fucking. Or you could push his buttons even further, further than you ever had before, and then dare to see what happens after that.

“It’s not my fault you dragged me along to your boring event, Ari. Maybe you don’t value me that much anymore, maybe I should find a new sugar daddy. As I said before, Mr. Barber’s single now, and I’m sure he’d love it if I called him da—”

CRACK.

You’d been too busy running your mouth to even notice that he’d undone his belt. It’s only when you feel it crack down on your ass that you stop short, crying out and gripping the marble sink beneath you. Fuck. That hurt. He hasn’t done it too hard (he wasn’t sadistic and you were still his baby girl) but it’s hard enough to make you gasp, knowing it’ll leave a mark on your poor ass.

“Try and smart mouth me again, sweetheart. Try it, I dare you.” Ari grabs your jaw roughly and tugs you up till you’re standing with your back flush against his torso.

You can’t speak because his grip on your jaw is too tight, so all you can do is desperately shake your head, rutting back into him to let him know you’re done with being a brat.

“Who am I?” He hits the belt on your ass once more, and the sting makes you wetter than ever. “Who am I, baby?”

He lets go of your jaw and you sputter, “daddy, okay?! You’re daddy!”

Ari smirks, his hand wrapping around your neck while he uses the other one to spread your legs, roughly running his fingers over your wet folds and making your knees buckle.

“Oh, now I’m daddy, huh?” He slams three of his fingers inside of you and you gasp at the intrusion and the immediate feeling of fullness. “Bratty fucking baby just loves to run her mouth, don’t you? Where’s that attitude disappeared to, huh?

Your legs already feel shaky and weak, your orgasm fast approaching because his fingers feel so thick and good, and the spanking had already turned you on. Not to mention how he’d been petting you and showing you off all night — that always got you hot too. You were this close to cumming.

“Daddy, please!” You garble.

“Not so feisty now, huh?”

“Nooo, daddy, please! Gonna cum!”

Immediately, Ari’s fingers leave your cunt, making your eyes pop open in shock. He brings his wet fingers up to your face, smearing your juices all over it, making you messier than you already are.

“Bad girls don’t get to cum.” He smirks.

“But daddy! I was only teasing! Please don’t leave me hanging, daddy! I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry!” (Maybe you are, maybe you’re not… you just want to cum, in all honesty).

He scoffs, “Please. A flimsy apology like that would work on punks like Andy Barber. But not me.”

He drags you back outside. And he’d originally wanted you to go out in just your dress which is completely torn from the back, but you’d begged him to give you his jacket. Thankfully, he’d done you this small service. But everyone could tell what had just gone down in the bathroom. What with your torn dress, dishevelled hair and shiny face (he hadn’t let you clean it) paired with the fact that you were limping.

Yep. It was pretty obvious you’d been utterly wrecked — wrecked without even having been fucked. And Ari couldn’t be smugger. You were just thanking your lucky stars that at least his jacket was long enough to cover your ass with all its bruises and belt marks.

You expect him to take you home after that (he was hard after all, and you knew you’d be in for the fucking of your life once he got you alone). But instead, he makes a beeline towards Andy Barber, who looks white as a ghost at how inappropriate and fucked out you look.

“Andy, listen. We’re gonna have to leave early tonight.”

Andy manages to tear his gaze away from you. “Huh? How come?”

Ari looks at you meaningfully, “Baby, tell Mr. Barber why we have to go home.”

You look down and shake your head. There was no way in hell you were gonna say what he wanted you to say, what he’d coached you to say not minutes ago inside the bathroom. What you’d promised him you’d say.

But you don’t have a choice, because Ari pinches your ass not-so-subtly, and you yelp. Fuck.

“Tell him, baby.”

You hang your head and grit your teeth.

“I was naughty, so my daddy has to take me home so he can punish me. I’m sorry for being naughty at your event, Mr. Barber. My daddy will set me straight tonight.”

Ari looks smugger than the Cheshire Cat, you know he’s been wanting you to call him daddy outside of the bedroom and in front of other people for a while now. You’d always said fuck no, but he’d got his wish tonight. So you guessed you being bratty had paid off for one of you tonight…

But later, you find out, it pays off for you too. Ari fucks you like he’s never fucked you before. So hard and fast and frenzied, till you’re covered in bruises and your legs are shaking. And then he kisses you sweetly on the lips, and clasps your new diamond bracelet around your wrist. It’s got an inscription on the inside, which reads:

Daddy’s naughty little girl.

***

THE END SOCNSKKXKSAK BYE!

Sketched him a bit - Basil 🌿

𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐌𝐢𝐝𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 | 𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲

Pairing ༄  Fireman!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader x Fireman!Steve Rogers Word Count ༄ 1.9k Warnings ༄ Swearing, pet names, fluff, aftercare, Bucky is a lil' shit, smut (fingering, m masturbation, exhibitionism/voyeurism, somnophilia, unprotected piv, dom/sub - dom!Steve + sub!Reader + dom/brat!Bucky, praise + degradation + daddy kink) Author's Note ༄ @sgt-seabass chose this one, so I am entirely innocent here. No, I don't have a habit of deflecting, what do you mean?

Events ➷ ༄ @buckybarnesevents Hot Bucky Summer | Week 9 - 'S' Week (Somnophilia) | Hot Bucky Summer Masterlist ༄ @allcapsbingo Ｇ５ - Waking Up Together | Bingo Masterlist

Built Differently Masterlist

The urge, while powerful and all-consuming most of the time, never burned this hot. It was always temperable, until it wasn’t – and there was one way to make it better, it was just a good thing that a certain someone was just as much of a trouble maker as you were.

It wasn’t often that you dreamed. Nor was it often that you felt so… lonely – so empty. 

Not when you had two men sharing the bed you slept in – one fast asleep, the other just dozing lightly, their shared heavy breaths waking you fully from your fitful sleep. 

In a state of half consciousness, you took stock of your body – your hips felt loose, and you couldn’t help but wriggle in the sheets, just a little. Taking deep breaths felt like a laborious task, and you couldn’t help the small whimpers that left your lips as you stared at the profile of Bucky. 

And your cunt – it ached something fierce, and the cavernous feeling of being empty intensified by the second, and it was rapidly becoming unbearable. 

Bucky’s brow twitched and his lips parted on an exhale, and you watched with half lidded eyes as his head turned to face you. He was still fast asleep. “Fuck,” you murmured, wriggling a little more to see if changing the angle of your hips would help ease the ache – you were tired after all. 

It only made it worse.

You whined breathlessly, and Bucky twitched, his eyes opening blearily as he scanned the room, before finally landing on your face – flushed and heated from arousal, your bottom lip swollen from you biting it. His brows furrowed in confusion as he stared, and you blinked slowly, still shifting your hips. 

“You right, doll?” he rasped, one hand scratching his jaw, while the other came to rest on your waist. “Wha’s wrong? Where’s it hurt?”

Bless him, you thought. 

Blinking rapidly, you canted your bare ass up into the air and angled it towards him. “Please, it hurts, daddy,” you whispered.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Bucky murmured, realisation dawning on his sleepy features, and his hand moved to cup your ass in his palm. “Can’t have you hurtin’ now, can I?”

“No,” you answered, gripping the sheets between your fingers and bunching them painfully into your palm. “Wanna be fucked, daddy.”

Bucky grinned sleepily and sidled closer. “Y’know what, Cherry? Why don’t you fuck Stevie–he would love it,” he cooed, rubbing circles with his thumb over the skin of your ass. “Go on. Ride daddy.”

“But he’s asleep-”

“Doesn’t mean shit, baby,” Bucky soothed. “Take all of his cock–be a good girl for me.”

You whined quietly and pushed yourself up onto your elbows to better look at Steve. Fast asleep and face turned away from you, he was lying on his back with the comforter bunched at his hips to cover his naked form. 

“Don’t you wanna be filled, baby?” Bucky asked, his lips now tracing the column of your throat. “Daddy has a load for you, sweetheart, you just have to take it.”

“Oh, god,” you moaned. “Please-”

“One sec, baby,” Bucky said, and you felt his hand wander down the cleft of your ass. “Spread those legs for me–good girl,” he praised just as your knees parted on instinct. “Have to make sure you can take him. Don’t need our girl hurtin’ taking all of daddy, do we?”

“No, fuck, daddy,” you gasped, the feel of his fingers tracing over your clit knocking the breath out of you. “Yes, feels good-”

“Almost ready,” Bucky replied, his fingers sinking deep into your cunt with no warning. You keened and rocked back against them, all while Bucky’s breath fanned over your ear and neck. “Such a good girl, just lay there for me–keep makin’ those pretty noises.”

You endured a few more minutes of him scissoring his fingers in your pussy to stretch you, and you panted and moaned through every second – pitch varied and volume increasing, but still, Steve did not wake up, not once. 

The slick sounds of Bucky’s fingers grew louder. “Tha’s it, sweetheart,” he praised, pumping his fingers in and out. “I think you’re ready–what d’you think, baby? Ready for daddy’s cock?”

“Mhm,” you hummed, nodding fervently. You could just feel Bucky’s grin against the skin of your neck, and his huffed laughter. “Please.”

“Go get ‘im, Cherry–show daddy who’s boss,” Bucky encouraged, helping you up and move to straddle Steve’s hips. The blond only stirred lightly, his nose scrunching in his sleep, but he didn’t wake. “Go on,” Bucky whispered, “take his cock like the good girl I know you are.”

“Okay,” you murmured, and you raised your hips up to better grip Steve’s flaccid cock in your hand. 

“Tha’s it, good girl,” Bucky praised, and his hand reached out to take Steve’s cock. “Lemme guide, baby, I’ve gotchu.” You let go of Steve’s length, and took a deep breath as the sound of Bucky’s slick hand pumped his husband’s cock until he was semi-hard. “Alright, kitten, there you go.”

Slowly, ever so damn slowly, you sank down onto Steve’s cock – each inch made your breath hitch. He began to harden, but still, he did not wake up. “Daddy, daddy,” you whimpered, gripping Bucky’s forearm. “Fuck.”

“I know, sweetheart–sonofabitch is a heavy sleeper, isn’t he?”

“I want-”

“Hang on,” Bucky soothed, his hand rubbing up and down your thigh. “Is he hard–has his cock at least noticed that he’s in the prettiest cunt?”

A heavy breath left your lungs, and you nodded, biting your lip. “Yeah.”

Bucky grinned, a wolfish smile if you’ve ever seen. “Alright then, you ride him–and you ride him good, can you do that for me, Cherry?” You nodded again, rocking your hips slowly. “Atta girl, now take him. Don’t you go slow.”

You took one deep breath, a second, and then rocked your hips in earnest, your hands resting on Steve’s chest – which began to rapidly rise and fall, and his hips moved, causing a moan to fall from your lips. 

Steve whimpered, moaned, and then shouted, “What- Fuckin’ hell, Cherry!” His eyes flew open, and his hands frantically gripped your hips. “Shit. Fuck, you feel-”

“She feels s’good, doesn’t she, babe?” Bucky purred, his mouth hovering over Steve’s shoulder. He bit down on the muscle with a low growl that Steve mimicked a second later. “Kitten was achin’, and I wanted to watch you get a taste of your own fuckin’ medicine. Cherry,” he called, loud enough to be heard over your pants for air – Steve’s cock was hitting all the right places and you revelled in the way he filled you. You looked at Bucky and met his gaze, smiling lazily. “Fuck him.”

“Yes, daddy,” you moaned, and you bounced on Steve’s cock, taking just what you deserved while the blond squirmed beneath you. “Fuck, feels good, need more-”

“Darlin’, honey, fuck-” Steve moaned, his hands lifting you up and down at a faster pace. “Goddammit, what the hell happened?”

“She was desperate, and she needed someone to fill that pretty pussy up–figured you’d want it to be your cock, honey,” Bucky cooed. You watched as Bucky turned Steve’s face to his and kissed him hungrily. 

The lewd sound of your slicked cunt sliding up and down Steve’s fully hard cock filled the room, each pass of his cockhead over your walls hitting that spot perfectly. “Oh, fuck- Ah! Daddy, please,” you begged, your rhythm faltering the further the coil tightened. “Please!”

Steve pulled away from Bucky to look up at you. “Aw, honey,” he breathed, “you cockdrunk on me already? You feelin’ good?”

“Uh-huh,” you cried, your fingers scrambling over Steve’s chest as Bucky chuckled darkly. “Wanna cum!”

“You better let her cum, babe,” Bucky cautioned. “Poor thing woke me up. Now she needs you to fuck her back to sleep.”

Your stomach flipped at the sight below you – two identical hungry stares that would rival a wolf’s hunting glare, and you knew you were screwed. A small, pitiful whimper left your lips, and Steve grinned; all fucked out and sharp teeth aside. “Oh, I will.”

Steve’s hands, warm and rough, gentle and soft all at once, pulled you to his chest, and you felt his thighs move under you. You glanced over your shoulder for a singular second to see he had planted his feet on the mattress, and you had only one chance to catch your breath and gulp.

“Hold on, kitten,” Bucky called – the grin of triumph so clear in his tone.

“Wait- Fuck! Daddy!”

The sharp sound of skin slapping against wet skin filled the room again, this time, it was constant with the grunts of effort Steve let out as he fucked up into your cunt – each thrust a harsh drive into your heat that had you panting for breath. It was an onslaught like no other and tears welled along your waterline, as desperate to fall as you were to cum. 

“You feel so fuckin’ good, darlin’,” Steve groaned, his grip tightening as he drove his hips up and up and up. “Such a good girl for me, taking what you want–know you want my fuckin’ load, huh? That what you want?”

“Yes!” you cried, your mouth falling open. “Please, daddy! Fuckfuckfuck-”

“She looks so good like this,” Bucky commented, his voice full of awe. “You close, kitten? You wanna cum?”

You opened your eyes and stared down at them – Steve with his chin tucked to his chest, a snarl of determination on his lips, while Bucky lay next to him, pumping his cock with his hand with a victorious smirk on his pretty lips. “Oh-”

“I think that’s a yes,” Bucky mused, nodding once. “Go on then, fuckin’ cum, you slut.”

Unbidden, your cunt clenched around Steve’s cock with the first flutter of your climax, and you hiccuped. 

“Do that again, Buck,” Steve moaned, his voice hoarse. “She’s squeezin’ me, and I know she’s close.”

Bucky’s smirk morphed into a grin with as many sharp teeth as Steve’s, and he bit his lip as his hand sped up on his dick. “Oh, that so, kitten? You like being called a fuckin’ slut? What about a fucktoy–nothin’ but a fuckin’ fucktoy for us to use and fill, maybe even breed-”

“Fuck!” You screamed, you back bowing into Steve’s chest as your orgasm ripped through your whole body. “Daddy! Fuck–cumming! ‘M cumming!”

“Good fuckin’ girl!” Bucky called over your sobs, and you felt a hand on your thigh. “Tha’s it, let it out–soak Stevie, kitten, fuck, you’re gorgeous like this.”

Your chest spasmed in time with your cunt through the waves, and you distantly registered the loud roar from Steve just as you felt his cock twitch in your heat, his release coating your walls. A low moan came from beside you and you felt the warm, tacky residue of Bucky’s cum hitting your thigh and calf. 

“Fuck,” Steve groaned, as you fell onto his chest, and his hands came to rest on your lowerback to cradle you close. “That’s it, honey–good girl, did so good for us.” 

Shivers wracked your body and you hummed, relaxing into the warmth he offered. There was a rustle beside you, and Bucky said, “I’ll just get a towel. Hang on, baby.”

“You alright, darlin’?” Steve whispered, his fingertips running up and down your back. “Didn’t hurt ya?”

“No,” you slurred – the sated monster deep in your belly finally purring and content enough to let you sleep. “‘M tired, daddy.”

“Go to sleep, sweetheart,” Steve urged, kissing the crown of your head. “I’ve gotchu, and Buck’ll clean us up, okay?”

You would have replied with a semblance of gratitude, but sleep pulled you under her waves and kept you there – the last thing you felt before succumbing was the brush of a soft cloth on your thighs, and the whispered words from both Steve and Bucky, “Such a good girl.”

↠  𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑  ↞

The Penthouse

18+

A group of obscenely rich, horrifically powerful, and sex-addicted individuals share more than one dark secret - but their favorite secret is you. The pretty little thing they've got living in the lavish penthouse they bought together, where they can escape to when they need a break from their families.

Series Warning: Multiple Characters x Reader, adultery, hard drug use, smut, depiction of rough sex, dark kinks (specified in each part).

1: Ragdoll ARI LEVINSON

2: Seductress STEVE ROGERS

3: Special STEVE KEMP

4: Mommy RANSOM DRYSDALE

5: Soother BUCKY BARNES

drabbles

• what it's like for y/n living in the penthouse

• rules of the penthouse

• bucky's other life

• how it all began

• the time brock rumlow broke a rule

Soft subby reader jealous stroking bucky

CEO Bucky x Jealous Secretary reader - slutty thot - making dom Bucky a needy slut for you.

Imagine being the soft, quiet little secretary of the very handsome James Barnes. What started off as a professional relationship quickly turned into something else once the sun had set and everyone left the office. No one know about the way he love the toy with your body to his liking, about how well you responded to him once the doors were locked.

James Barnes who had to stuff his tie in your mouth to keep your moans quiet, shoving his fingers deep down your throat while he railed you with his cock. His warm tongue would lick up your tears while you milked him dry with your needy, tight cunt. No one would ever guess such a shy little quiet thing would be a cockdrunk bunny on the inside, practically humping yourself on his thigh once his meetings were over, drooling and nursing off his cock under his desk when he was on calls.

****

You took another long sip from your drink, watching a red head trace a long, sharp manicured nail up Bucky's chest, giving him a flirty smile which he smirked back to. She was a prospective investor, one of the few people on the VIP list in attendance for the yearly company gala. Bucky threw her a charming laugh, clinking his glass with hers to something she said, the red head now resting her hand higher, stoking the expensive fabric of his suit.

This was the James Barnes who would pick you up from your desk and throw you over his shoulder when things didn't go his way, fucking his frustrations out with his hand slapped over your mouth, jaw clenched with his heavy balls slapping your clit with each thrust. James Barnes who would fill you up with so much cum, it would drip and make a mess on your skirt, making it impossible to stand up once he plopped you back onto your chair. James Barnes who loves what a secret little slut his secretary is. Such a quiet, sweet kitten who was too innocent for her own good.

The very James Barnes everyone wants and he damn well knows it.

And loves it.

So here he was, biting his lip and cocking his brow suggestively while the woman stood tall with poise, leaning over to whisper in his ear, making your cheeks grow hotter with each passing minute. You weren't aware making business deals with new partners involved wanting to eye fuck them in the process.

You downed another glass of bitter liquid, no longer able to ignore the surges of jealously that pulsed through you. You had no business being jealous or possessive but you couldn't help it, seeing him pull the same charm he used with you, even if the context was different. You missed the way his eyes glanced over to you each time you looked away, his grinned on the inside with the soft flare of your nostrils and the clench of your jaw.

The last straw for you was when he whispered something in her ear, her eyes growing wide in response, a crimson flush covering her face.

"Sir" You strode over, rolling your shoulders back, ignoring the woman, only keeping your eyes on him, "There's a call for you in the office, its urgent"

It was clearly a lie, he knew it, as did you but you didn't care. Bucky smirked at you, cocking his head to the side curiously while you continued to stare at him, waiting for him to follow you. The woman coughed, hoping to break the tension between you both, unamused at the way Bucky's attention was completely on you.

"Aren't you the secretary, shouldn't you cover the calls-

You didn't bother letting her finish, slipping your hand into Bucky's and pulling him away towards the large elevators, the brunette letting you take him wherever you so well pleased, curious about what you'd do. You were just a soft little bunny.

"What is it kitten" Bucky smirked at the scowl that tugged your lips.

"I didn't know your business ventures required flirting with new partners" you kept your voice steady, fighting against the alcohol that was coursing through your body.

"Are you jealous" he smirked, letting you drag him away from the crowd, shoving him into the elevator.

"What's there to be jealous of" you shot back, the fire in your belly growing stronger the more he taunted you. Bucky's cock grew harder and the change of your demeanor, your possessiveness making his tip weep.

"No need to be angry bunny, look at you acting so needy" Bucky tsked while the elevator doors opened to the top floor. The grip you had on his hand tightened as you both went into his large office which overlooked New York. You clicked, while he leaned against the doors with a cocky smile, arms crossed against his chest. His cockiness took a hit when you glanced down at the way his length strained against the fabric of his pants, just as needy as you were, if not more.

"You were acting like a whore, sir" You shrugged while letting your finger trace over the outline of his erection, pressing where the tip leaked through his slacks.

"Don't tease m-

"Please" You caught him off guard, grabbing his tie and tightening it around his neck just enough to make his breaths heavier, "Now tell me what you want"

"Play with my cock" Bucky swallowed thickly, his control slipping when you unbuckled his pants, his cock springing free, begging to be touched. You took a step back, humming at the sight of him; not a single wrinkle on his pristine suit, not a hair out of place, his beard trimmed, lustful eyes boring back at you. He looked so pretty with his cock out, waiting for you to do something, his dominant side faltering in confusion.

"Why don't you ask her to play with it, sir" you cocked your head to the side like he did, waiting for him to answer, his cheeks flushing. "Hm?"

"Want you to play with it" His voice was a whisper pushing his hips forward, showing you exactly where he needed you.

"You want me to play with your cock baby, it that it?" You cooed, tapping the tip with your index finger and pulling away slowly, letting the string of precum stretch before popping your finger into your mouth. "You're so wet" You hummed at his taste, stating the words he'd always throw at you before tracing circles onto his sensitive head again, smearing his arousal around without actually stroking him.

"Fuck" Bucky hissed, nearly slumping again the door while you teased him, biting back the moans that were lodged in the back of his throat. You wrapped your hand around his thick length without actually moving, squeezing the base of his cock.

"What is it kitten" you sneered, mimicking his words from earlier, smirking at the way his cock throbbed in your hand in response. "Look at you" you whispered, "Oh sweet boy" You cooed again, this time moving your hand to cup his full, heavy balls, rolling them in your palm, "They've so heavy, does it hurt?"

"Hurts so bad" He moaned when you tugged them and squeezed them while nipping his neck. You lazily wrapped around his length again, giving him long languid strokes, watching his face twist with desperation for more. Bucky felt like a teenage boy, thrusting into your hand, struggling not to blow while you continued to jerk his cock, his hips rolling to fuck your fist. He felt like he'd never been touched before, this being the first time someone had ever taken control over him and it was something else, especially when it was you.

"Mmmph" He whined, confused and aroused at the same time, desperate for more of your delicious torture, his dom side slipping even more. He tried to regain his bearings, standing straight up again, sucking in a breath, "So jealous-

"So desperate" You tutted, smacking his cheek for opening his mouth while rubbing and stroking his shaft, ignoring his tip completely.

"C'mon bunny, touch me" He was breathless, chasing your hand each time he got close to getting the tip into your palm, groaning when you moved away.

"I am touching you, aren't' I?"

God, he loved you like this.

"The tip- please, need you there, c'mon, please"

A wicked idea sparked in your mind, pulling him by his tie to stand in front of the floor to ceiling high windows that overlooked the city. The same windows he'd fucked you against countless of times, letting the world see you fall apart. Now it was your turn.

Bucky could feel his heart hammer against his chest standing in front of the window, the city twinkling below him while you stood behind him, your hand coming around his waist to grasp his cock. Bucky's hands flew to the window, splayed wide to hold himself up, fucking his cock into your hand, hardly in control of his movements.

He pulled back enough so the head of his cock would rub against your palm before pushing forward again, chasing his orgasm, unable to take his eyes off the way his fat cock slipped in and out of you smaller hand.

"S'good to me bunny, need you ta' squeeze my cock harder, c'mon, need you bunny, I need you" He practically whimpered for you, balling his hands into fists when you complied with a hum, moving your hand with his movement, adding more pressure, feeling his cock grow harder.

"Gonn'a c-cum" Bucky stuttered out while you kissed his neck, letting him continue to fuck your hand, his tip nearly touching the cool glass with how fast he was moving. "Oh God-"

"Such a pretty, fat cock, you're making a mess baby, are you gonna cum in front of everyone and show everyone who you really belong to?" You whispered, only getting a slutty, guttural moan back in response. "Go a head baby, make yourself cum, show everyone you're mine"

"OH FUCKKKK" Your words tossed him over the edge, a pornographic moan slipped past his pink lips as he started to paint the windows with thick spurts of his cum. His body trembled, shivers running down his spine as his balls seized against his body, still feeling full as ever.

"Oh god, I can't stop" Bucky wrapped his hand on top of yours, jerking himself off faster, working up to a second orgasm, angling his hips to shoot at the window again, his head thrown back, nearly falling onto his knees. "C'mon, make me cum again, pleaseplease-

You pushed him back onto his large chair, pulling your dress up and panties to the side, impaling yourself onto his overstimulated cock, crying out when he gripped your hips and started to thrust up, not giving you any control. You clung onto him while he drilled up into you, dribbles of cum still pouring from the tip.

"You're mine sir, mine"

"M'all yours bunny, all fuckin' yours, use me, oh fuck, use me" You grasped onto his shoulders, riding him till tears streaked his face, taking everything you gave him while you pulled a third orgasm from him. And a fourth.

"I-I can't cum anymore, please, cock hurts bunny, I can't-

He was begging but he didn't want you to stop, his hips continuing to thrust up while he slammed your ass down on him sloppily, eyes rolled back while chasing your peaked nipples. He pulled you forward so he could suckle onto them while

"Your cock hurts baby boy?" you stroked his cheek, the new term of endearment making him hard all over again, a sob escaping him.

"It hurts so much, make it go away, m'still so hard, why's your pussy so good bunny"

"One more baby boy?"

"O-one more bunny"

By the end of the night, he was milked dry, holding onto you while you were tucked into his chest, his soft cock still buried deep in your pussy. His neck was littered with dark bruises you marked him with, trailing down to his chest. He cuddled you for a few more minutes before you both had to make your way back down, his hand not leaving yours.

"How was the call - oh-" the red head's eyes grew wide seeing the red and purple hues that peaked under Bucky's collar a proud smirk on his face while he put his arm around your waist.

"It went well. Closed a new deal, if you must know" He stated before pressing a kiss onto your cheek, grinning at the way you melted into him, his soft little bunny.

sorry, this was longer than i intended.

“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