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 ↞
thinking about getting crossfaded with marc and then steven fronts ..!!!
18+ minors dni
words: 2.1k
warnings: crossfaded!steven grant x f!reader, marc angst if you squint, mentions of alcohol and weed, light choking, pinv sex, unprotected sex
summary: Marc comes home from a rough mission. He doesn’t want to talk about it; it’s one of those nights where he needs a crutch to ease his sore body and racing thoughts, and he needs you with him. When Steven fronts and is met with the unfamiliar effects of mixing smoking and drinking, there’s only one thing he feels like doing with (to) you.
It’s one of those nights where Marc creeps into the apartment after a long mission with his body sore and tired, his mind racing. It’s past midnight and the sound of the door opening has you stepping out of your shared bedroom and into the hall, arms wrapped around yourself and standing in one of Marc’s shirts as you watch him silently. You watch his broad back as he rummages through your junk drawer in the kitchen, pushing aside rubber bands and post it notes and business cards before grabbing a lighter and making his way to the balcony, fishing a joint from the back pocket of his jeans as he slides the door open and steps outside.
Of course, you follow him. You don’t say anything as you stand beside him and look out at the city skyline against the dark blue sky. You’ve been with Marc long enough and have seen him like this enough times to know that what he needs most is you by his side; not your pity, not your fear or worry, just your presence.
He leans his forearms on the railing and sparks the joint between his lips, taking a deep toke that he holds in his lungs for a few beats before blowing it out. The joint appears between two of his rough fingers an inch in front of your mouth. Marc watches with heavy eyelids as your soft lips close around the filter and you take a drag.
An hour or so later you’ve both made your way back into the apartment, Marc’s shoulders looking more relaxed, the notch between his eyebrows gone. The living room is lit only by the blueish street lamps outside that flood through the window and a few randomly placed candles you lit in an attempt to mask the lingering smell of weed. The coffee table’s become cluttered with a near-empty bottle of wine and two empty glasses, the lighter from the junk drawer and a triangular ashtray meant to resemble a pyramid from the museum gift shop.
The flashing picture of the television reflects in you and Marc’s dry eyes as you half-watch some shitty movie from your seat on the couch. You’re lying between Marc’s legs with your back to his torso, your head rising and falling against his chest with each breath. He’s so warm and his breathing is deep and slow, but you notice the way his stress lingers in how his large hands squeeze your waist, and his strong arms hold you against him so tightly as if someone or something would try to rip you away.
Later on, you feel Marc’s hold on you ease up and his breaths get deeper. Lifting your head slightly from his chest, you look up to confirm he’s asleep and press your lips softly to his stubbled jaw, whispering “I love you,” against his skin. You sit up and turn noiselessly above Marc so you can lay your chest on his torso and wrap your arms around him, pressing your cheek into his chest and closing your dry eyes to slip into your own sleep.
⋆
A sudden movement from beneath you forces you awake, making your heart jump in your chest and eyelids snap open to darkness; it was still nighttime. You must have just fallen asleep, because it’s easy to open your eyes and prop yourself up on your hands on either side of Marc’s body. His torso is tense against your chest and his breaths are quick. His hands no longer rest on your lower back, but hover just above it, as if you’ll break at the softest touch; this wasn’t Marc.
Steven’s red eyes are wide and looking at the paraphernalia that litters the coffee table, “Oh, dear,” he rasps in his accent, slightly slurring his words, “You and Marc have had quite the party.”
His eyes turn to meet yours and you bite the inside of your cheek as you realize something, Steven’s never gotten high before.
“Steven?” you say, “...Are you feeling alright?”
In the dark room you barely notice Steven’s cheeks flush red to match the colour of his eyes, his hands come to rest on your hips and his fingers play anxiously with the hem of your (his) shirt. You’re sitting on your knees between his thighs, still only wearing the shirt and a pair of panties. Your face is still flushed from being pressed against his chest and the blueish light from outside makes your skin glow softly. His tongue darts out to wet his lips before he rasps, “That stuff really… clouds your head up, dunnit?”
“Do you… like it?” you ask. Your big doe eyes are red and searching Steven’s face for any bad signs.
“I, well,” one of his big hands leaves your hip to scratch the back of his neck, his thick bicep flexing with the movement, “I don’t quite know what to do with myself, to be honest.”
His hips squirm slightly on the couch and you look down to see a bulge beneath his briefs, Marc having discarded their jeans hours earlier. You catch your bottom lip between your teeth and bring a hand to rub up and down his thigh, the muscles tensing instantly as he inhales sharply, “You should just relax, baby,” you say, “Y’want me to help?”
“God,” he moans, “Yes, yes, I need your help, love. Please… please, help.”
“Tell me what you need, Steven.”
His hands push your shirt up out of the way, his fingers tugging at your panties, “Wanna fuck you,” he says lowly, “Please let me, baby.”
A quiet moan, almost a sigh, leaves you at his words. The drugs were doing something to Steven, whether he was more confident or he just wanted you that badly, you weren’t sure, but Steven was usually the timid one in the system, asking to be fucked rather than begging to fuck you. Regardless, his change in demeanor was more than okay with you.
His droopy eyes were dark and greedy as they raked over your body, and his warm hand cupped one of your tits over your shirt, salivating at the way the fabric outlined your hardened nipples. You whined at the touch, wanting to feel his skin on yours, “Fuck me, please Steven.”
Your clothes fall to the floor as Steven pulls them off of you. You hiss as he tugs your panties down and you feel the cool air against your warm centre.
“God,” Stephen groans, “You’re so wet f’me. Pussy’s glistening so pretty.”
“Stevennn,” you whine as he kneels above you, holding your knees open and staring down at your cunt.
“Shh, shh,” he stands to pull down his briefs and release his thick cock, dark hair trailing down his lower stomach to the base, before returning to the couch above you, “I’m here, baby. Let us take care of you, yeah?”
Steven grips his cock to guide it to your dripping centre, guiding the thick head through your wet folds to get himself slick. He lands a glob of spit on your cunt before slowly pushing into you. You whine out at the feeling, warmth pooling in your tummy at the familiar way he stretches you, “A-ah… Steven, mmh.” His cock is so hard and thick, and you can’t help that your walls are already squeezing around him.
Steven groans as he collapses over you, holding himself up with his forearms on either side of your head and pushing into you so slowly. Excruciatingly slow. Your head is still hazy from the wine and weed, all you can focus on is the pressure in your belly as Steven bottoms out inside of you. You’re clawing at his bare back, the muscles there rippling and tensing with each long thrust.
He leans his head back to look at you, how you look so pretty for him in the pale light, glossy eyes going unfocused and dumb and he pushes in and out of your cunt, your jaw slack and pink lips parted as you whine and moan, bare tits bouncing softly as he fucks you. He brings a big hand to your throat and squeezes so lightly that you barely register the pressure. Steven has seen Marc hold your neck like this so many times from the mirror in your bedroom, but the view of you pawing at his forearm as you gasp in breaths from this angle turns him on a thousand times more. It has him picking up speed, his thrusts causing a rhythmic and wet slapping as you gush around his length, your juices coating his heavy balls that slap against the soft flesh of your ass.
Your plush thighs tighten around his hips, your eyelids fluttering shut as you blindly paw at Steven’s hard chest, “Come here,” you whine, making Steven collapse over you again and chuckle softly.
“Is that nice, love?” his warmth breath hitting the shell of your ear, “Is my cock filling you nicely? Can you feel me in your belly, baby? Tell me.”
“S-so good, Steven. Sooo deep, mmh.”
“God, such a sweet girl,” he moans, trailing kisses from beneath your ear down your chest and to your tits, taking a nipple between his teeth before darting his tongue out to lick the bud, rolling your other nipple between his thumb and forefinger, “Lettin’ me fuck you like a good girl, aren’t you? Takin’ this cock so well, so nicely.”
You open your eyes to watch Steven pinching and sucking on your nipples. A few dark curls fall over his forehead and his thick brows furrowed in concentration, all the while still thrusting into your leaking cunt. You squeeze around his girth at the sight, he was so hungry for you, sloppily and greedily devouring your tits, a trail of his spit glistening across your chest.
“Steven… W-wanna cum,” you whine, grabbing at his hips to pull him closer, deeper.
He pulls his mouth away from your nipple with a pop and looks down at you, all hooded eyes and puffy wet lips, “Shh, alright,” he coos, “Let me pound you ‘til y’cum. Would y’like that?”
You only manage to nod your head a few centimetres before Steven takes your hips in his hands, his fingers digging into your soft flesh as he lifts your hips and begins slamming his cock into you. The new angle and the force of his thrusts has you crying out. Your cries and gasps fill the apartment, along with the smack of his hips against you, your pussy squeezing and squelching as Steven bullies his thickness inside your tight hole.
“That’s it,” he groans, “S’good at takin’ cock, sweet girl.”
The rough pad of Steven’s thumb began rubbing harsh circles over your clit, the pressure threatening to snap the invisible cord inside you. The thick head of his cock pounds that sweet spot deep inside you and his length rubs against your soaked and gummy walls.
“Fuckkk, y/n,” he moans, “Squeezin’ me so tight. Y’gonna cum, baby? All over m’cock?”
His deep and raspy voice has you falling over the edge, the invisible cord snapping in your tummy as you gush and throb around his length. Steven falls forwards and wraps his arms around you, your face buried into his neck as you sobbed, his face pressed into your hair as he grunted deeply.
Steven rides out your orgasm, pushing his still hard cock in and out of your sore cunt. He finally pulls out of you when you push on his chest and whine at the overstimulation.
He brings your legs together and hugs your knees to his chest, your ankles resting on his shoulder as he rubs his length between your wet, puffy folds and sticky inner thighs. You both stare down at the sight of his leaking cockhead poking through your thighs with each thrust.
“Mmf,” he moans, “M’cummin’, m’cummin’, fuckkk…”
Warm, thick spurts of Steven’s cum coat your lower belly as he cums. You swallow thickly and bite your bottom lip at the sight. It’s so filthy, Steven’s cock between your weak and shaking thighs, his forehead glistening with the effort of bringing you both to the finish line. His wet tongue darts out to wet his lips, his jaw slack as he stares down at your spent and fucked out body that’s now covered in his cum.
He presses a kiss to your shin before letting your legs down and heading to the bathroom for a cloth to clean you up, stumbling a little on the way.
Once he’s wiped you clean, Steven lays beside you propped up on his elbow, one hand on the side of your face and rubbing your temple with his thumb, the other roaming your body, squeezing your tits lightly, rubbing your tummy and hips, kneading the flesh of your thighs with his fingers.
You fall asleep to Steven’s warm voice in your ear. He chants quiet “Thank you”s and “I love you”s until he drifts off too.
<3
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.
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!
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
thank you so much and I'm so happy you enjoyed it! dom Steven definitely holds a special place in my heart :))
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.
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.
The brain rot is real. Don’t mind me…
We’re getting married tomorrow
all three boys and using reader (once again not a kink, more of a personal indulgence)
"You took them so well," Steven murmurs sweetly against the crown of your hair. "You were divine. Aren't you glad we started with Jake? He broke you in so well, didn't he?"
The sounds you make back are unintelligible. Your pussy aches in the best way, swollen and sensitive, filled with Jake's load and then Marc's after him. It is a sticky mess between your thighs--and you love it. You love it so fucking much.
"Are you anxious, darling?" Steven coos at the whine and flinch you give when his fingers press gently at your swollen nerves. He slips two fingers into your folds, smearing wetness across your entire vulva. "What for? They saved me for last, just so I could be gentle with you, didn't they? They know I couldn't ever be rough with you."
He takes your chin, turns your head so that you can just see him where he is plastered against your back, hard cock nudging at your ass. His dark eyes take in the fucked-out expression on your face and he smiles.
"So you're going to have to ask me for it. You know that, don't you love? Go on. Ask me to be rough with you."
Your mouth opens, nothing but a desperate groan slipping out. He rolls you onto your belly, straddling the back of your thighs, hands broad and strong as he needs your ass and spreads you open. Steven clicks his tongue.
"Close enough for me."
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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indulging in anything that fuels my delusions NSFW/18+ MDNI she/they, 24MasterlistAO3
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