Soft Subby Reader Jealous Stroking Bucky

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!

Dust To Dust

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

rating: E (18+ ONLY, talks of alcohol/substance abuse, undefined relationship, sleepy sex, dirty talk!joel, unprotected piv, rough sex, possessive!joel, soft ending)

word count: 2k

joel masterlist | joel playlist | song inspo

You weren’t sure how it started, this…thing with Joel. Maybe it was the cold, maybe it was weight of loneliness threatening to crush your bones, or maybe it was nothing at all—nothing besides a mutually felt need for one another that could no longer be kept at bay.

Each night after a long and brutal day in the QZ, you’d sneak into Joel Miller’s apartment, his spare key around your neck the closest you’d likely ever come to being claimed publicly as his.

Joel was always out cold when you arrived, the half-gone whiskey bottle on his bedside the most obvious substance to blame for his sedation, but you knew it went much deeper than that. He tried to hide it from you—the pills he had to take just to get a half-decent night of sleep—but his secrecy was no match for your hyper-observant nature. It wasn’t as though you even cared about the hydro and the oxy—everyone left in this brutal world had to find a way to sleep—but you knew Joel well enough to know that he didn’t want you to see just how deep the crevasse went, so you feigned cluelessness to protect his pride.

You didn’t bother to undress, and neither did Joel apparently, finding him snoring on his back fully dressed, his boots still on. You ran your hand up his stomach and chest as you stood at the side of the bed, stirring him enough to get him to roll over onto his side. Joel’s eyes batted open before squeezing shut again as he rolled over, your body quick to slip in behind him and tug the blankets over the both of you. You ran your hand up and down his ribs and stomach, lulling him back to sleep while also relaxing yourself. Joel’s hand rested on top of yours before sliding it up his chest until he was kissing your knuckles.

“Go back to sleep,” you mumbled against his shoulder blade your face nuzzled against it. Joel grunted in disobedience before rolling over to face you, his hand guiding your leg to rest over his hip. “I’m too tired to do anything athletic tonight,” you exhaled against his lips as he peppered barely there nips against yours. “You’ll have to do all the work.”

“Don’t I always?” he teased, the slur of his voice an indication that he was still drunk.

“Too sleepy to go back and forth,” you smiled against his lips.

“Turn around,” he ordered, his hands reaching down to his belt and fly, undoing them and tugging himself out. You shimmied your jeans halfway down your thighs before giving up, your ass flush against Joel’s hard on as he tugged you back against his chest, his cheek nuzzling against yours as you laid on your sides. “You wet?”

“Why don’t you have a look for yourself?” You grabbed his hand as it rested on your hip and slipped it between your thighs, a soft puff of air leaving his lips as his fingers were coated in your slick. “That wet enough for you, Texas?”

“It’s perfect,” he whimpered in desperation, not a trace of teasing in his voice. You felt drunk on his lust, pulsing for him long before he even touched you. When his finger began to circle your clit, you graced him with a moan, his lips pressing against the side of your face as he bucked his stiffened cock against your ass. “Tell me you need it, baby. Tell me how much you need me.”

“Fuck, Joel, I need you so much I could cry,” you begged, exhaustion and arousal turning you stupid. Joel groaned into your ear and nodded, pleased by the sound of your desperation. “Please baby, please. Put it inside me.”

“You gonna take me however I want tonight?” he husked as his hand left your pussy to wrap around his cock, his fist pumping it as he awaited your response.

“Yes,” you nodded, your walls twitching in anticipation.

“I wanna hear you,” he commanded as he lined his cock up with your entrance, dipping just the tip in before pulling out and sliding up to your clit to gather more slickness on his shaft. “I wanna hear every damn thing, alright?”

“Mmhm,” you nodded, reaching back to lace your fingers in his hair. “I need your cock, baby. Please—“

“Here you go baby,” Joel hushed you as he slid his cock into your pussy slowly, inch by inch, taking your breath away as he pressed in as deep as he could go and held you there with his hand on your hip. “That what you wanted? To feel me like this?”

“Fuck, move,” you ordered but his tutted in your ear, his head shaking.

“How I want it, remember?” His voice whispering into your ear sent chills down your spine, your skin covered with goosebumps. Joel seemed to find it amusing how easily he could affect you, his hand smoothing along your skin to relish in the hairs he made stand up. “You like when I talk to you, darlin? Like my voice?”

Joel withdrew his cock almost completely before pressing back inside, a pathetic loan slipping from your lips as the blunt head of his cock glided along your favorite spot.

“Pussy’s already squeezin’ me,” he grunted into your ear as he continued this painfully slow in and out, your arousal flooding around his cock as he teased you to the brink of madness. “I could stay buried in your pussy for a lifetime, baby.”

“Joel, fuck,” you whined and reached back to hold his hip, wanting him closer but he was already flush against you.

“You’re doin’ so good,” he praised in a husky growl, his cock grinding as he kept it seated inside you. “Lettin’ me work you up…don’t worry, baby, I’ll give it to ya how you need it soon.”

You felt as drunk and high as he probably still was, your entire body alight at the mere scoot of his cock against your walls. This was what made him the most dangerous man in Boston in your eyes, not the violence he was capable of or the icy chill of his heart, it wasn’t his job or his bad habits, it was his ability to unravel you with as little as his skin touching yours, his voice in your ear, his eyes locked with yours as though you meant something.

“So soft,” he praised as his hand slid up the inside of your thigh, hiking it higher on his hip to spread you open a bit more, granting him access to your weeping cunt. Joel moaned into the side of your neck as he buried his face there, two of his deft fingers circling your bud that was already swollen and pulsing before he ever even made contact. “So warm.”

“Fuck, that f-eels,” you shivered, his cock surprising you with a full thrust against your g-spot, your vision going blurry at the pleasure that trickled down your thighs to your toes. “Joel, Christ.”

“Gonna get you to cum for me like this,” he detailed between kisses to your neck, his breath going ragged as your pornographic moans filled his apartment. “Then I’m gonna fuck you into the mattress until you’re drippin’ with me.”

“Fuck,” you whined against and clawed at the skin of his lower back where you continued to hold onto him. Joel moaned at the sharp sting and bit down on your shoulder, the pain blurring into pleasure with every punch of his cock up into your pussy. “Joel, I’m so fucking close, please don’t stop, I’m so fucking—“

“God, you sound so pretty,” he grunted as his hips began to snap into yours, your knee now hooked on his arm as he spread you apart on your side. You looked down with groggy and arousal drunk eyes to watch as his fingers worked over your clit, your brows narrowing with ever perfect strum of your pussy. “Jesus, gettin’ so tight I can hardly move.”

“Joel, I’m fucking coming—oh my god!” You we’re a whining, moaning, convulsing mess against him as he fucked you through your orgasm as slowly as he could, drawing out the death-like pleasure that coursed through your veins and nearly took you out of consciousness.

“Yes. Fuck. That’s my girl,” Joel panted in your ear as he rolled you onto your stomach, his hands lifting your hips until you were face down and ass up on the mattress. Joel’s clock shoved its way back into your pussy and you choked on the way he felt inside you, your fingers clawing at his sheets for purchase as he drilled into you without regard for your oversensitivity. “All mine, ain’t ya?”

“Joel,” you whined, unwilling to answer him given the murky nature of your situation.

“Tell me you’re mine,” he bent over your back, gripping your hair in his fist and turning your head to the side so he could speak directly in your ear. His hips never ceased in their ruthless clap! clap! clap! against the flesh of your ass, his cock rendering you speechless even if you wanted to obey him. “Come on, tell me this pussy belongs to me.”

“It’s yours,” you mewled, inching towards a more brutal climax. “My pussy belongs to you, Joel.”

“Good,” he growled and you could hear the smirk on his face. “Now tell me you’re mine.”

“But I’m not,” you shook your head and cracked your eye open to look at him over your shoulder, Joel’s face scrunched in offense as he stared back at you. “Am I?”

Joel nearly snarled as he somehow fucked you harder, your body sliding up the mattress from the force of his thrusts as he lowered his teeth to your earlobe, biting on it just enough to sting in the best way.

“Course you are,” he spoke. “You’re mine…and I’m yours.”

“You are?” You wanted to cry, not just from the way his cock was devastating you one thrust at a time, but from the admission.

Joel Miller was yours. That alone made living in this world worth it.

“I swear it,” he kissed your cheek and let out a shivered moan. “God damn. I want you to cum on my cock, baby. Make me yours and I’ll fill this pussy up and make you mine.”

“Jesus,” you sobbed into the sheets as your climax hit you like a freight train, your body going limp beneath his but he was quick to adjust his position with you, using your pussy like a toy until he was mewling your name like a prayer.

“Fuck, baby,” he whined, burying his face in the dio between your shoulder blades. “Gonna cum inside this sweet pussy.”

“Please,” you urged, reaching back to hold his ass as he fucked into you slow and deep. Joel moaned without inhibition as he spilled inside of you, his fingers leaving marks on your hips as he held you still.

“So fuckin’ good,” he praised in breathless pants, his cock scooting in and out of your now soaked cunt. “God damn.”

Joel pressed his lips against your skin before rolling over onto his back to catch his breath, your body lazily following him so that you could rest on his chest.

“I meant all that,” he spoke up after a few minutes of peaceful silence, half-expecting you to be out like a light.

“So did I,” you mumbled, your palm flat on his button-down covered chest.

“Bout damn time we finally said it,” he chuckled just enough to shake you as you laid on him.

“I was just waiting on you, Miller.” You lifted your head and rested your chin on his chest, reaching up to tickle his chin. Joel caught your hand in his and lifted it to his lips, kissing the pads of your fingers.

“Sorry to keep you waitin’ so long, baby.”

Masterlist

Last updated: November 26, 2024

Moon Knight

Give Me What I Want (Steven Grant x f!reader)

What Good Girls Get (Switch!Marc Spector x f!reader x Dom!Layla El-Faouly) No One Compares (Steven Grant x f!reader) Love You to the Moon and Back (Moon Knight trio x f!reader) Taking Control (Steven grant x f!reader, brief Marc Spector x f!reader)

Then There Were Three (Marc Spector x bi f!reader x Layla El-Faouly)

Miguel O'Hara

The Royal Treatment (Miguel x f!reader) Skip to Dessert (Miguel x f!reader) Full Body Workout (Miguel x f!reader) Finish What I Started (Miguel x f!reader)

Basil Stitt

Just One More (Basil x f!reader)

Blorbo thought of the day #1

More: Steven Grant x GN! reader

Author’s note: Wanted to start doing a “Blorbo thought of the day” thing. Idea is that I will share a snippet of one of the many blorbo scenarios which pop into my head on the daily, but which I don’t have time to develop into a full fic. Sometimes it will be smut, sometimes fluff, sometimes angst, sometimes… a surprise? And I don’t mean literally every day, but whenever I can! This one turned into more of a smutty blurb, but I intend for others to be much shorter snippets, bits of dialogue, headcanons etc..

Who better to start with than Steven?

Steven is a gentle lover; until he isn’t. (In which you gag on Steven’s cock and it sends him FERAL.)

NSFW/18+ Minors interacting will be blocked.

Steven Grant is a gentle lover.

Until he isn’t.

You are on your knees for him as he stands in front of you. Hadn’t even managed to strip off his work clothes yet before you were stripping them for him. Undoing his belt, and peeling away his trousers and boxers. Pushing his back up against the thick wooden beam of his attic room and taking him eagerly into your mouth.

He’s soft. Careful. Always. Let’s you take the lead.

Tonight is no exception.

Steven rests his hand gingerly on the crown of your head as you suck him - nothing but a gentle, reassuring weight. His long eyelashes flutter as he flits his gaze over you; the angel -divine being- making him feel so good.

You didn’t care who came through the door, you’d said. Whether it was him or Marc or Jake - you were getting down on your knees. Had been thinking about it all day.

But you’d told him, when he walked through the door, that you’d been glad it was him.

He’s still not used to this. To being wanted. To how good your mouth feels wrapped around him. Being buried in you.

Steven is a gentle lover. Makes a point of it. Never wants to hurt you. Push you. Take anything you don’t want to give. Has never even considered getting rough with you.

But tonight, he can’t help but think about what it would be like… just to take a little more.

Maybe because he’s had a stressful day at the museum. Maybe because he’s been thinking about coming home to you all day too and relieving his frustrations.

Whatever the reason, Steven can’t help but think about it; because he knows that the others are rougher with you, sometimes. That they don’t treat you like you’re about to break - like he does.

What were the words he’d heard?

Jake: soft dom. Marc: service top. Him: vanilla, submissive.

And so, he can’t help but think about it, because if they’d arrived tonight instead of him, wouldn’t this all be different?

The thought of that, combined with the feel of your velvet lips and the welcoming, warm wet cave of your mouth makes Steven so hard he can see stars blur the edge of his vision. Makes him grow over eager as you work your pretty mouth on him, bucking his hips and driving his length enthusiastically home, deeper into the cave of you. His hand gripping the back of your head just a little tighter than usual in his desperation to come undone.

He didn’t mean to. Didn’t mean to translate this desire from out of his head into the real world. You didn’t expect it.

It takes you a little by surprise.

Enough, to make you gag on Steven’s cock, just for a second; until you are surging off of him, eyelashes wet as you blink away the instant, spiking surge of tears.

Steven means to say something. He really does. Feels awful. Means to say “sorry, love, I’m so sorry”.

To soothe you. To do something.

But he… doesn’t.

Because…. Fuck.

He liked it.

A lot.

To his great relief, you seem unphased too, your lips curling up into a little smile before you curl them once again around his girth.

You continue: still gentle, still soft. Still in control. Setting your own pace.

Except this time Steven is inwardly going feral.

The thought of you gagging on him again. The thought of you surging off of him because he’s too big. The noises you made. The feeling of your throat convulsing around his cock. Even the tears in your eyes and the thought that you want him so much you’ll try so valiantly to take him all.

He’s panting. It’s awoken something in him. He’s throwing his head back against the beam. Eyes are screwing shut. His teeth are biting into his lower lip. His fingers are curling into your hair and - oh God. It feels divinely good but he wants…

Oh God.

He wants to push you down on him until you heave with the swell of him and he’s resisting the urge and you’re sucking him so deep and he can’t take it because he wants -needs to- bury himself even deeper.

Needs more and he’s aching for it.

“-Steven,” you purr, looking up at him, lips plumped and glistening with spit and god. “If you don’t want to make me gag on you again, you can always just ask. I can tell you liked it.”

He opens his eyes. Looks down at you on your knees. His mouth dropped open in surprise, and his legs nervy and trembling. A wracked, disbelieving moan spools from his chest, his cock almost bursting at the thought of it. Of making you choke on him. “W-would you d-do that for me, love?”

Your eyes glint with mischief. With want. “Steven.” You kiss the swollen head of his cock, swirling your tongue around the contours of him until he twitches, nearly spilling himself right then. “I’d do anything for you.”

He releases a shaky breath.

Steven is a gentle lover; until he isn’t.

Until he fists his hand in your hair and drives you down on his shaft, losing all composure as he hears you, feels you, sees you gagging on his size, your hands pressed calmly to his bared thighs as he holds you there and you let him.

And, as he does you fold the flat of your tongue around him. Let him take you, fill you, fuck into the circle of you, your throat resisting; gagging on him.

Steven can’t take it.

Didn’t know he would like this. Never would have guessed.

But within moments, he is emitting a ragged moan. He is pulsing his hot release down your throat. Giving you everything, as you eagerly take it. Swallow him down, until he’s drained; empty. Your hands smoothing up and down his shuddering thighs. Your tongue cleaning every last drop of mess from him. Humming against his softening shaft.

“Was that good, baby?”

He thinks he might black out. Can’t speak.

Can’t speak; until he can. “Love. C-Can we do it again?”

Your mouth curls into a smile; before you wrap it all the way around him.

When it comes to you, Steven can never get enough. He always want more.

At the same time though, you’re more than enough for him.

You’re everything, and he’s so happy he was the one to walk through the door.

THIS IS SO GOOD!!

More Moon Knight for the tl.

This one was a challenge, the face was complicated and the shadows were very strong which is a bit hard to do with tempera , and to top it all off i had the brilliant idea to paint it in my sketchbook which has pretty thin pages. So it was an adventure what can i say. I donno if i really caught his face that well but i tried my best.

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."

In exchange for your life, do you swear to protect the travelers of the night and bring my vengeance to those who would do them harm?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What? I wasn’t mad.” Steven insists.

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

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

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

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

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

“And Marc-“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“None of that.” Steven says seriously.

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

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

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

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

Hear me out.... Steven with a praise kink 👀

You jokingly call him a good boy (because I call him my human golden retriever) and BAM. Confused boner! You take advantage of it and keep teasing him.

(Marc and Jake would never let him live it down, either)

Ijcioajfidi HELP. THIS. AHHH. I’m not sure why chess playing came into my brain. But here we are, reader likes and plays chess and is pretty good at it.

(Side note: in one typo I wrote ‘chestboard’ instead of ‘chessboard’. You just know my subconscious is thinking about Steven’s boobs.)

Good Boy

Steven Grant x F!Reader Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist | ao3 | want to be tagged?

Warnings: INSTANT BONER, p in v sex, teasing, swearing, typos, rail road sentences, please let me know if I’ve missed a warning!

Word Count: 2147

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“So, think about how you would stop me.” You said as you looked from the chessboard to Steven. 

His brow was furrowed in concentration, his glasses pushed high on his nose. A few rough curls dangled over his forehead as he bit softly at his thumb in thought. 

“I could move here?” 

“That’s really good.” You smile. “Excellent move, because you’ve also stopped my bishop.” You point to the piece on the board. 

Steven smiled. He liked chess, played against the computer occasionally. But it wasn’t much more than a way to pass the time. 

However when he found out that you had won some amateur competitions when you were in school, and that you still played regularly, his excitement at the prospect of playing a game with you was so completely heart-warming that you instantly said yes. 

In the first game, you’d been determined to go easy on him. Just to get a feel of Steven as a player. You’d accidentally won in less than ten minutes. 

There had been a small tinge of panic, a worry that, like some of the previous partners you’d had, he would be annoyed. Instead Steven grinned, thrilled that you’d beaten him and sung your praises until you were so positively overwhelmed you had had to kiss him repeatedly to get him to stop. 

This was your second game. He had asked in that delightfully enthusiastic way he had if you could play again, “if it’s not too much trouble love, and you want to of course, don’t want to be annoying, do I? No. But I’d love it if you could teach me some strategies?” 

“So I’m going to move here,” you picked up your knight and moved it slowly. 

Steven frowned. “But then I can take it?” 

“I know.” You grinned. 

He paused and looked at you, unable to stop himself from smiling at your glee and then nodded. “Okie dokie, there’s something I’m not seeing then.” 

“Is there?” Your innocent tone didn’t fool him for a second. 

“There definitely is.” 

You chuckled, looking back to the board. “Good boy. Look, take your time, but don’t worry if you can’t find it, I’ll explain.” 

There was a long pause. You frowned a little and glanced back to him. His eyes were a little wide, his cheeks dusted with pink. He was sitting stiffly now, his hand clenched into a fist with his knuckles pressed against his mouth. 

“Steven?”

“Hmm.” The sound was too quick. He didn’t look up from the board.

“You okay?” 

He nodded, a short sharp and very un-Steven-like movement. 

You paused for a second, looking at his features carefully as you wondered if Marc or Jake had fronted suddenly. Though, why they would try to hide it from you, you weren’t sure. 

On further inspection you were pretty sure that it was Steven. 

“You sure you’re okay.” 

“Yeah, yeah.” He mumbled and swallowed, looking through the board and not seeing it. 

“Okay…” You swallowed, watched him for a moment longer before you pointed at your rook. “If you take my knight, I’m going to take your pawn with my rook and you’ll be in check. You can’t take the rook with your queen because then you’d be in check here. So you’d have to move your king like this, and then I could move my other bishop and you’d be in checkmate.”

You looked up at him, chewing your bottom lip. Had he had enough? Was he bored? Fed up of your explanations? 

“Okay. Right. So I won’t do that, I’ll move here.” He spoke quickly, still not looking at you. 

You nodded, watching his move. “Good, so…”

The moment ‘good’ left your mouth Steven sucked in a breath, shuddering. 

A sound you very much recognised. 

Oh.

You quickly thought over your previous conversion: move this piece, are you okay, take your time, good boy-

Good boy. That was it. 

A small smile stretched across your lips. Steven was still staring, fixated, at the chessboard and didn’t notice. He moved his piece silently. 

You waited a beat before you spoke. “That’s a great move Steven, good boy.” 

He shivered straight away, his breathing hitched. He tried to cover the sound with his hand as he closed his eyes.  

“What’s wrong Steven?” You teased slowly. 

His eyes snapped up to yours, wide and embarrassed. 

“Don’t you like being called a good boy?”

The smallest groan grumbled in his chest, his muscles tensing. 

“Or, is it that you like it a little too much? Hmm? Being my good boy?” 

His skin flushed with heat as he glared at you. His eyes dark. 

“What?” You bit your lip as you grinned. “A good boy would answer questions when asked.” 

“Please.” He whispered.

“Please what?” 

“Please stop. Marc’s taking the piss.” 

You frowned, the playful tease dropping from your tone. “Why’s Marc taking the piss?” You’d done kinker stuff with all of them, Steven liking being called a ‘good boy’ wasn’t really something to write home about. 

Steven sighed, pouting a little as he closed his eyes and took his hand away from his mouth. “Because I’ve got a hard on.” 

You bit back the giggle that wanted to spill from your chest. Something about him having to close his eyes to say it was just so perfect. “So?”

“It happened the second you said it.” 

“The very second?” 

“Hmm.” Steven kept his eyes closed. Interesting.

“So literally, I said it, instant boner.” 

“Yep.”

You couldn’t resist one playful tease. “So, if you’re in a park and you hear some say good boy to their dog, is it bam, erection?”

Steven shifted a little as you said those two words, trying his hardest not to moan. His cock was pressing, painfully hard, against the stiff material of his jeans. “No.”

“No?”

“It’s never happened before. And now- Marc, shut the fuck up.” His voice was a little needy until it came time to address his alter.

“Marc behave.” You said kindly. “So… it’s only ever happened now?”

“Hmm.”

“When I said it?”

“Yeah.”

“What happens when I say it again?” You whispered. 

Steven squirmed a little, even the thought of you saying it getting him hot under the collar. “Feels… nice. Sort of.” He pushed at his throbbing cock with the heel of his hand and opened his eyes, his head slightly drooped. 

“Sort of?” 

“Yeah, like… you know, he jumps to attention every time you say it.” He blinked heavily, his cheeks burning. God, you must think he was a right little freak.

“Good boy.” 

He groaned, unable to stop the sound in time and looked up at you. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t nice that you were making fun of him like Marc and… oh. 

Realisation dawned. You were biting your lip and smiling. You liked it. A lot. 

Steven swallowed audibly. 

Slowly you stood and walked around the table to stand beside him. Steven pushed out his chair a little, angling it so that he was facing you. He went to stand but you gently pressed on his shoulder. He followed your command and stayed sitting down, looking up at you with pleading eyes. 

He played at his jumper sleeve nervously as you watched him. His dick hard and pulsating with need, throbbing in time to his heartbeat. 

He swallowed again. “Love-”

“Good boy.” 

He moaned softly, screwing his face up as his cock twitched at your words. 

You bent down quickly, grabbing hold of his cheeks and kissing him deeply. Using his brief surprise to slip your tongue into his mouth and push him back against the chair. 

Steven whimpered against you, his hands coming up to hold your shoulders and the back of your neck as you ravaged his mouth and robbed him of his breath.

“Good boy.” You muttered between the kisses, swallowing his hushed whimpers and soft moans. Revelling in the way he pulled you tighter, needy and desperate for anything you’d give him. 

You brushed your hand against his groin, squeezing the outline of his cock. 

“Fuck!” Steven hissed, clawing at your top and thrusting up into your touch. The rest of his words were lost as you kissed him hard and lightly bit his bottom lip. 

You trailed your lips down to his jaw and neck, sucking at his pulse point and pushing him even further back into the seat. 

His breathy moans sent a wave of heat along your spine to your core, twisted in your belly and overwhelmed every thought. 

You squeezed his cock again, the heat of him radiating through your hand. “Good boy.” 

The words barely left your lip before Steven answered you with an accompanying groan, his length twitching against your palm. 

You moaned, so dizzily high with the sounds of his pleasure. Without thinking you undo his belt and unzip his jeans, pulling his trousers and boxers down to his calves in a hurried motion with a little help from Steven as he raises his hips. His cock springs free, needy and weeping with need. 

You take him in hand, stroking him twice before pulling his jumper over his head. He whines at the loss, chasing your mouth and kissing you urgently the second the material is off and on the floor. 

With your lips desperately pressed to his you pull down your own trousers and underwear, kicking one leg free and not bothering about the other as you take his length back in your hand and straddle his thighs. 

Him being so worked up, so desperate for you when you hadn’t even touched him is a stronger aphrodisiac that anything you’d ever experienced.

You don’t even give him a second to react before you’re lining him up with your already soaking entrance and slowly sinking down. “Such a good boy Steven,” you breathe, your voice rising in pitch at the end as he inches deeper, his thick cock splitting you so wide. 

He moans headily, pressing his face into your chest and mouthing at the tops of your breast through your top. 

“Love, you’re so wet.” He bites his bottom hip, his fingers pressing against your waist hard enough to leave bruises. 

You pull at the back of his hair slightly, scratching your nails along his scalp as he finally bottoms out. He pulses within you, twitching and aching and so, so close already. 

“You’re my good boy, aren’t you Steven?” 

He whined against you as you rocked your hips, quickly starting to lift yourself up and sink back down, setting a brutal pace as you began to bounce on his cock.

“Such a good boy letting me use you like this.” 

Steven moaned, chasing your hips and thrusting deep. He was drunk on you, needed you. Every moment, every word you said sent waves of pleasure through his body and made his head spin. 

Even in his intoxicated state his muscle memory kicked in, bucking up into you perfectly to make you see stars. Each spot that would break you apart memorised and stored deep within his very soul. 

He fucked up into you harder, growling with his desperate need. His leg kicked out and caught against the table's edge, rocking the chessboard and knocking pieces over. 

The sound just loud enough to register in his mind. “Sorry, I-“

“Doesn’t matter Steven, please,” you moaned. At this angle the head of him constantly pressed so deep, rubbing consistently over that special spot and not even giving you a chance to breathe. No pause or reprieve from the oncoming onslaught of pleasure that threatened to overtake you. 

“Gonna cum, gonna cum,” you whined, your thighs shaking and thrusts growing sloppy. 

Steven growled, grabbing hold of your hips and pistoning upwards, not allowing your pleasure to dip. “Please, please, please, cum on my cock, please love, please. Tell me I’m your-”

“You’re my good boy.” You came dizzyingly hard, your fingers digging into Steven’s shoulders and leaving marks. 

But he didn’t care. Couldn't care as you squeezed and fluttered around him, moaning ‘good boy’, and shaking as you fell apart in ecstasy. 

Steven gasped, the air catching in his throat, the pleasure so potent it was like his heart stopped. He came deep, hot and thick, his hips still thrusting to prolong your high and to fuck his spend deeper into you. 

You held each other tightly as you recovered, breathing hard, sweat sticking to your skin. It was only then that you pulled off your top and bra, discarding them on the floor with the rest of your clothing. 

Steven nuzzled into you, softly kissing along your collarbone as you stroked his hair. 

He chuckled suddenly and you moved back every so slightly to look him in the eyes. 

“What?” 

He grinned, dreamy and love sick, up at you. “Marc’s changed his mind. He’d quite like you to call him ‘good boy’ too.” 

____________________________________

Thank you for reading!

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Don’t mind me 💆‍♀️ just minding my own business 💆‍♀️ thinking about best friends dad joel 💆‍♀️ flipping my skirt up and fucking the attitude out of me 💆‍♀️ making me call him sir instead of Mr. Miller 💆‍♀️ being mean and condescending, slapping me 💆‍♀️ and then unleashing his praise kink on me at the very end 💆‍♀️ calling me his good girl because I took it so good 💆‍♀️

Don’t mind me 💆‍♀️

Goodness I tried to do this justice bby Everyone say thanks to Kait for helping me set the scene WC:1.6k CW: SMUT OBVI 18+, slapping, spitting, sir kink, rough joel, age gap implied (legal ffs), degrading, names (cumslut, whore, slut, bad girl, angel, darlin, yadda yadda) praise kink at the very end, condescending joel. Tell me if I missed anything & if you liked it! <3

Your closet was no stranger to short skirts and your best friends dad wasn't so slick about checking you out when you wore them to his house to hang out with Sarah. Sure, he didn't mind you wearing them to his house for only him to see and admire, to take a mental photo of for later when he was alone in his bed, but he hated the times you'd come get Sarah and go out wearing them. You messed up this time though when you chose the shortest one you owned. It barely stopped below your ass and you can bet Mr.Miller was the first one to notice when you walked by him earlier and he almost broke his neck trying to get a good look.

As you closed the front door and started walking to the garage where the overhead door was open, the music was getting louder that was coming from the radio inside the garage. You rounded the corner to see Mr.Miller installing something new on the front of his truck, a slight glisten to his skin from sweat. As you finger combed your hair and tugged your skirt down, you had to clear your throat to get his attention. "I'm outta here for the night Mr.Miller, thanks for having me over." He gave you a small smile and a nod as he tossed down the wrench he was toying with, "Don't mention it, sugar. Did ya get enough to eat? Know I don't wanna send you home still hungry." The short sleeves on his t-shirt tightened around his biceps as he crossed his arms over his chest, watching as you moved into the garage a few steps, tugging down your skirt again. "Yup, thanks again for cookin', you know I love your food." The radio seemed to get quieter but it was just your mind drowning out anything that wasn't this gorgeous mans voice.

"Can I ask you somethin, angel?" Angel. That's been your nickname since he met you when Sarah brought you home from college, there was no meaning behind it other than it came from Halloween when you were an angel and Sarah dressed up as a devil. "Sure, Mr.Miller, what's up?" You moved a box of broken tools sitting on a stool and set it on the floor, trying to keep your knees together at all times so he didn't see your panties. Of course you wanted him to, just "accidentally".

"Why do you wear those little skirts if you constantly fix them so your ass isn't showin'? Y'know if you're uncomfortable you can jus' take it off." His eyes drifted up your legs as they landed on yours, his fingers not fiddling with the bolt he was previously toying with. It felt like someone reached over and stole all the air from your throat, your entire body freezing. He wasn't going to get the best of you though, not in the slightest. "I happen to love this skirt Mr.Miller, thank you very much." You dropped your feet off the foot rest on the stool so your legs dangled and ran your hand down the small pleats of the skirt. He gave a chuckle and shook his finger at you.

"You aren't foolin' anyone pretty lil thing. I know you need the attention so bad, that's why you wear them to my house so you can get me to look when you walk down the hall, naughty girl. You crave that rush of getting your best friends dad to look at your ass when you bend over." Who did he think he was to call you out for your outfit choices? He had no idea what you wanted or needed. You stood up and started going towards him, raising your hand to connect with his face. He caught your wrist mid-air before it touched his cheek, a smirk on his plush lips.

"Don't think you wanna do that, do you angel?" His hand crept up your face and pinched your cheeks together, making your lips pout slightly. Joel pressed a light kiss on them, and licked your bottom lip ever so softly. "Fine, keep it on I don't mind. Turn around and bend over for me, let me see that pretty little pussy before I tear it up." Your core was shaking and you had to contain your excitement so he didn't know you've been wanting this for years.

"O-okay Mr.Miller" you stuttered and leaned against his truck as he pinned your head down, brushing your hair out of his way. "No more of that shit, call me sir, got it?" his tone was kind of colder now but that didn't stop you from getting turned on. "I got it, yes" you whimpered and grinded your ass against his hardening cock through his jeans. "Repeat it." Joel pulled at your hair and lifted you off the truck just enough to have your ear line up with his lips. You winced at the pain of your hair being pulled, "Yes sir" was all you could muster out.

"Would you look at that, the brat does listen." He smacked your ass roughly before he tore off your panties, ripping them like they were nothing. As he got down on his knees and spread you apart, he admired your glistening sweet folds that were very telling of how much he was turning you on. "Yeah I knew you liked that, my little slut. God damn you're so wet for me already, it's a shame I won't get to taste you. Bad girls don't get their pussy ate." Joel gave your pussy a slap and stood up, unbuckling his belt to drop his pants. "Yes sir" you yelped in response and your knees shook a little at the sting of the slap. No one had ever smacked your pussy until then and it was hard to say if you liked it or not.

Your eyes rolled into your skull as he ran the head of his cock between your slick lips, bumping your aching clit roughly. Squirming from how it gives some sort of relief to you, he grunts and presses your head firmer against the hood over the truck. "Stay fucking still, got that?" Joel leaned down and split on your entrance, rubbing it and slipping a finger inside teasing you. He slipped his hard cock inside you and you jolted forward, not realizing how big he was. "No no no, don't run away now. Take this fuckin cock like the whore I know you are, angel."

"Fuck- you're so big sir, please I need more, more" you begged and clenched around his cock, whimpering and grasping at anything you could. Joel grabbed your wrists and pinned them against your back as he started thrusting into you, the squelching coming from your tight hole making him groan in amusement. "Yeah I bet you do need more? Need someone to fuck the attitude outta you, fuckin cumslut? Hm?" He let go of one of your wrists and pulled you against his chest, smacking your cheek just hard enough to get your attention. Your mouth dropped and a smirk formed, a giggle coming from you. "Again, sir please. Hit me again daddy, I fuckin love it." You giggled and were met with another smack on your face as he buried his cock so far inside you, his balls loudly smacking your clit.

"Dirty fuckin' baby. I can tell how wet that gets you, you're soakin my cock every time I smack that goddamn beautiful face, dumb little cumslut." He turned your head towards him and shoved his tongue in your mouth. Joel pulled away and stood up as he grabbed you and pinned your back against the hood, hiking one of your legs up on his shoulder. "Put my fuckin cock back in that little pussy, right now." he demanded and you reached down grabbing him and positioning the head right at your entrance, moaning loudly as it goes back inside you.

The sweat covering you two made you glow under the fluorescent overhead lights, moans cut off with more smacks to your cheeks. "Who does this pussy belong to, angel?" Smack.

"Y-Yours sir, all you." you groaned out as you breathed in deeply, grunting as he was hitting your g spot.

"Damn right. Look at you, you wanna cum already and be daddy's cum slut? Tell me that's what you want baby. Tell me you want me to fill this little pussy with my cum." Joel snarled as his thumb went down to your clit and started rubbing roughly with thrusts making your body shake.

Your eyes were squeezed shut from the overwhelming pleasure mixed with Joels filthy mouth, you really had to focus on what you were going to say. "I wanna cum so b-ad for you sir, so fucking bad" your words were spoken between sharp breathes and he was loving every second of it.

"Cum for me baby, you've been so good taking this big cock so well. C'mon cum all over let me see you cover my cock sweet girl." he whimpered and kissed you, holding your face as his fluttered his tongue against yours. You swore you saw the heavens as you released all over him, screaming his name, damn near on the verge of crying. He groaned loudly as he pulled out and came right on your stomach, right under your belly button. His body jolted with every string of warm cum that landed on you, your clit throbbing still with excitement. After Joel finished milking his cock dry, he placed his hands on the hood on either side of your body. His damp curls tickled your face as he kissed your forehead softly, his eyes looking down at the work he did and you both giggled. "That's my good girl."