Accidents Never Happen

What Good Girls Get

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

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

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

Word Count: 4.5k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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."

🌙 MY MK SKETCH BOOK 🌙⁠

------------⁠

But what if Steven Grant was a cute little archaeologist accidentally reading scripture from an ancient text in the name of historical curiosity and awoke an ancient priest that was just trying to reconnect with a girlfriend? MummyAU anyone?

Skip to Dessert

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x f!reader

Summary: Having gotten into an argument with Miguel before dinner, you both find a way to let out your frustration.

Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, 18+ ONLY, afab reader, mentions of previous argument/ bickering, teasing, flirting with a stranger, flashing a stranger( he sees your underwear, waiter is kind of a perv/creep, exhibitionism(kind of), getting caught in the act, oral (f and m receiving) spanking, begging, dirt talk, rough sex ( let me know if I missed anything)

WC: 3.8K

A/N: Completely stopped writing for over a month. Oops. But I got the inspiration to write again so I decided to finish this Miguel fic that's been sitting half-finished for months. Enjoy!! Also, PSA, don't flash strangers or involve them in your sexual escapades unless you have their consent. Tried to write the waiter character like he was a creep who enjoyed it and this is fiction so no harm done, but please don't do that irl.

The tension in the car is palpable, but not the good kind of tension. Not the kind where lust and desire hang heavy in the air, where you can't bear to be apart even though you're right next to each other. Not the kind where you can't keep your hands off of each other and the temptation to pull over and submit to your desires right then and there feels impossible to resist.

On any other date night, this would be the norm, but tonight, a different tension is felt between you and Miguel. Residual feelings of frustration and annoyance brought on by the argument you two had back at the apartment. The disagreement was petty. Nothing that a little healthy communication couldn't resolve. But the incredibly stressful and tiring day you two had had both of your patience hanging on by a thread, and it was just a matter of time before one of you snapped. This time it just so happened to be you. 

You were both looking forward to finally spending some quality time together, considering both yours and Miguel's schedules are so hectic. But any bit of excitement you had vanished as you walked into your shared bathroom and tripped over the pile of clothes he left in the middle of the floor. You came to find out about this little habit of his when you first moved in together. You had brought it up to him, expressing your annoyance, and asked him to try and be mindful about it. He made a genuine effort to stop, only reverting to his old ways when he was in a rush or had a million things on his mind. Today seemed to be one of those days.

You growled annoyedly, and the second he walks through the bedroom door, you get on him about it. Was it right to take your frustration out on him? No. But you couldn't help it. He clearly wasn't in the best mood either, as he marched after you when you stormed off and started arguing right back. You two spent the next ten minutes bickering and even continued to mumble angrily to yourselves and throw around passive-aggressive comments as you got ready to go to dinner. 

It was a terrible way to start date night, but as you sat side by side in the car and the negative emotions started to dissipate, you both realized how silly it had all been, and you didn't want to let it ruin your night, not knowing the next time you'd be able to go out like this.

Although the irritation you were feeling earlier had subsided, you couldn't resist messing with him. Usually, when you get into petty disagreements, you both end up in bed, letting out your frustrations and subsequently making up by fucking each other silly. But you had reservations that had been made months in advance that you did not want to miss, leaving you with pent-up frustration, so you decide to find other means of letting it out. 

You plan to do that by pushing his buttons in hopes that he'll drag you off somewhere to fuck the attitude right out of you. As you peruse the menu, you begin contemplating different ways you could rile him up until you realize the perfect opportunity to do so is standing at the table, filling your water glass.

Conveniently, the waiter has been flirting with you from the very first moment he walked up to the table, something both you and Miguel picked up on, and it's safe to say your boyfriend is not thrilled about it. Normally, you wouldn't be either, but in this case, it's working to your advantage.

As he fills your glass, he doesn't even look you in the eyes, opting instead to stare directly at your chest. Any other time, you’d tell him off for being a creep, but you see Miguel staring daggers at him, and that makes you want to egg him on further. You notice his reaction out of the corner of your eye, but the waiter doesn't seem to. Now that you think about it, he hasn't acknowledged Miguel once, his gaze only straying from you long enough for him to fill the other glass before he's looking back at you.

You proceed to ask him a question about the menu, all while pushing your tits up on the table and giving him a full view down your blouse. He doesn’t try to hide the fact that he's shamelessly ogling your cleavage and, again, neglects to make eye contact with you as he answers your question. You giggle at everything he says, and you can see Miguel roll his eyes as you do so. After chatting with you longer than your boyfriend, or you presume even management, would deem necessary, he quickly jots down your orders and walks away. 

When he's out of earshot, Miguel asks, “What are you doing?”, looking unimpressed and letting you know he’s on to your little game. But you don’t care.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m being polite to our waiter. You should try it,” you answer, feigning ignorance.

He scoffs, “Polite? Yeah. Polite means saying please and thank you, not giving him a good look down your shirt and letting him fuck you with his eyes.”

“I can’t control what he does. It's not my fault he can’t resist sneaking a peek. You do the same thing,” you respond, raising one brow as you see his eyes fall to your chest, proving your point.

His eyes move back up quickly, and he says, "Well, I also fuck you till you can’t walk. You want to let him do that too?” 

His question has your mind conjuring up the memory of just last weekend when he gave it to you so good that you spent the next day recovering in bed. You remember the delicious ache he left you with, and you press your thighs together at the thought. 

“Maybe I should. If he’s capable of picking up after himself, I’d get down on my knees for him right now,” you sass. Knowing he won't let that slide, you wait for his reaction. He slams his hand on the table, not hard enough to draw the attention of the other patrons, but it got yours. 

“I said I'm sorry, ok? I was rushing out of the house this morning and I wasn't thinking. Will you just let it go?” He asks, the frustration clear in his voice. 

You playfully roll your eyes and try not to smile. You’re not upset anymore, and honestly, you weren't to begin with. You were just agitated because you had a particularly hard day at work. You just can’t help but push his buttons. You wouldn't taunt him like this if it wasn't something he does to you all the time. He's even admitted that he likes messing with you, riling you up just to see you wear that cute little annoyed pout on your face. So, you’re just giving him a taste of his own medicine.

“Fine. I shouldn’t be giving him a show. But how about you?” You ask in a sultry tone as you run your foot up his leg and lean forward, giving him the same view you gave the waiter just moments ago. 

He licks his lips at the sight. “Fuck, you look so good in that dress. Too bad I'm going to have to rip it off you,” he says, reaching down to your foot that has made its way to the inside of his thigh, and he softly caresses your ankle.

“You tear it, you die,” you warn. This dress was expensive, and you’d like to wear it more than once. You've lost more clothes than you can count to his lack of patience.

He chuckles. “Ok. Pull it off of you,” he corrects himself.

“I don’t know if I can wait,” you whine and glance over at the bathroom, mentally calculating if you'd have enough time to sneak off without anyone noticing.

“No, not after last time,” he replies, shaking his head and smiling at the memory. You two had been just a little too loud, and as you walked out, you were met with a very concerned hostess who came to make sure everything was alright.

You pout but agree; you’d like to save yourself from that embarrassment again. You decide to give him a view of what he's missing out on and spread your legs and pull up your dress, prompting Miguel to glance under the table. He spots the bright red mesh panties he had recently bought you but has yet to see you wear. 

“Naughty, naughty,” he says, shaking his head, but it takes everything in him to pull his eyes away as the waiter comes back, carrying your food. 

“Here you go.” He sets your plates down, Miguel’s first and then yours, and he smiles down at you, this time hungrily eyeing your lips.

You can see the anger on Miguel's face, and the brattiness bubbles up inside you again. You move your hand and knock your fork under the table, feigning an “oops.” 

“I’ve got it, miss.” Your waiter quickly offers and squats, moving to reach under the table. Legs still spread, he’s met with your clothed mound, and he stops in his tracks, lingering under the table.

Realizing what’s happening, Miguel uses his foot to push your knees together, blocking the waiter's view, and he retreats from under the table. The guy must not sense Miguel's anger, or he simply doesn’t care, because when you thank him for picking it up, he replies, “No problem, beautiful, I'll go get you another one.” He then places his hand on your arm while shooting you a wink. 

Miguel, having had enough of this little display, stands up, reaches into his pocket, and pulls out a wad of cash. He proceeds to shove it into the waiter's chest, and the guy almost topples over. 

“Keep the change,” he grumbles and pulls you from your seat, guiding you out of the restaurant with his hand placed firmly on your lower back. 

“Decided to push your luck, huh?” He says as he opens the door to the back seat and pushes you inside. “Big mistake.” 

After shutting the door behind himself, he cages you in against the seat and begins grinding himself against you. Even through the layers of clothing, the friction feels divine, and your breath hitches.

“I can’t keep people from looking,” you try to reason, hoping you haven't genuinely upset Miguel. But judging by the way his hands run up and down your body, grabbing every slope and curve, it seems like you've garnered the reaction you'd been hoping for.

He kisses your neck and chest, moving down your body at a maddeningly slow pace, and continues to speak as he does so. 

“I’m not jealous because I know he wants to get with you. I love when you show your body off and all the looks you get. I get to see people crave so desperately for something they can’t have, for something only I can have.”

You feel your skin warming up, not only under his touch but at his confession. You know deep down he's never genuinely jealous. You've made it abundantly clear that you are his and that he is yours, and nothing and no one would ever come between the two of you. But knowing a part of him gets off on seeing other people staring at you or hitting on you all while knowing they'd never have a chance turns you on even more.

He finally gets down between your legs and slowly starts lifting your dress. He begins kissing and nipping at the newly exposed flesh of your thighs.

“What I didn’t like was the way he disrespected you by acting like a little perv. He’s at work for god's sake, and he has the nerve to be staring down your shirt and touching you. He’s lucky I didn’t reach over and break his wrists,” he says through gritted teeth as the image of the stranger touching you flashes in his mind and rekindles his anger.

The sentiment that he was more upset at the fact that the man was being touchy with you, which did make you uncomfortable and was unprofessional to say the least, was what upset him rather than a territorial thing did warm your heart. But the warmth blooming in your chest quickly relocates to your core as he places kisses across your panty-clad center.

"I'm not thrilled he got a glimpse of these," he comments as he massages you through the fabric. You hum at his touch.

"Maybe he wanted a taste," you tease and angle your hips closer to his face.

"If he tried that, he would’ve come out from under the table without any teeth," he threatens, and you know he isn't kidding.

“And a heel in his eye,” you add, disgusted at the thought of that creep trying anything on you.

He chuckles and slips your underwear off, and you hear a soft hum as he's faced with the sight he's been longing for. He momentarily drags his fingers through your folds, saying, “I can’t say I blame him for wanting a peek, though,” and then he dives in.

His skilled tongue has you cumming on his face quicker than you'd thought possible. As you come down, he's lifting his head, and you see your arousal dripping down his chin. The sight has you grabbing for him, and you pull him up to you. You lick up his chin and then capture his lips in a kiss, moaning at the taste of yourself on his tongue. 

You take advantage, as he's left a bit dazed by the heated kiss, and push him into a seated position with his back against the door. You hurriedly place yourself between his thighs, mirroring his position between yours. You undo his belt and pull him out. Always impressed with his size, you eye his length hungrily.

“Think he’s as big as you?” you ask, already knowing the answer, and begin stroking him slowly.

 He lets out a dry laugh, then says, “Not a chance.” 

The cocky tone with which he says it and the smirk on his face would make you cringe if it were anybody else, but you know he can back it up.

“He'd leave you disappointed, I know it. You can tell just by the way the little weasel carries himself,” he says, and there’s no doubt in your mind that he’s right.

Not able to resist any longer, you take him in your mouth. You grab him at the base and start moving your hand in tandem with your mouth, stroking up and down his dick while dragging your tongue on the underside of his length.

His head falls back and rests against the window as he gets lost in the feeling, bucking his hips every time you come up and swirl your tongue around his tip. His breathing starts getting ragged, and he gently pulls you off him. He holds you by your hair and brings your mouth to his; the kiss isn't too rough but is still filled with need.

You pull away and quickly shuffle onto all fours, facing the opposite window. He sits back, allowing you to position yourself comfortably, and appreciates the view as your ass sticks in the air. As you sink down onto your elbows, you teasingly wiggle your hips, and he smiles and grabs at the jiggling flesh before giving your ass a quick slap.

He positions himself behind you and begins rubbing his tip through your folds, repeatedly catching on your entrance, but doesn’t enter you like you desperately want him to. You whine, so he begins pushing his thick cock into you, but doesn’t get any further than his tip before he’s pulling out and rubbing his length through your folds once more.

He does this repeatedly, and not being able to take his teasing any longer, you whine, “Give it to me. Or should I go get what’s-his-name to do it for you?“

You suck in a harsh breath as he fully sheaths himself in you in one quick motion, and you feel your walls stretch around him. “Is that what you want?” he asks. 

“Mmhmm,” you reply, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth as he begins moving slowly, allowing you to adjust to his size. When you begin reaching for him to get him to move faster, he knows you’re ready. He grips your hips and gives you faster, deeper thrusts that pull moans from both of you each time he bottoms out.

You both begin feeling the stress of the day melt away, adding to the mix of pleasure. The fatigue from the long day, and the never-ending problems and drama at work, and even the tension from the argument fade away as the pleasure overtakes both of you.

Your quick, shallow breaths and the way your toes curl let him know you’re getting close, and he reaches underneath you to start toying with your clit. This pushes you over the edge, and Miguel groans as he feels you pulsing around him.

He continues swirling his fingers around your clit to help you ride out your high, and you already feel your next climax building. You feel him begin to slow down and fuck into you at a gentler pace. Needing those deep thrusts back, you find yourself begging him to go faster.

“No, don’t stop! More, please. Please!” You plead as you reach behind you to grab the back of his thigh, urging him on.

He chuckles at the desperate tone in your voice. He pushes you down by your shoulders until your body is flush against the seat and then hikes your right leg up. As he’s shifting you into position, he says, “That boy wouldn’t know what to do with a woman like you. Look at you; you’re insatiable.”

You let out a sigh at the new position, his dick reaching deeper and his tip dragging along that spot inside you that has you squirming. Heeding your request, his pace quickens. His breathing quickens as well, making his impending release evident, and he tries to hold off, wanting to give you one more. 

“He looked like he was about to cum in his pants when he came up from under the table. No way he’d last long enough to give you what you need,” he continues.

“Think you can?” You tease as you look behind you and smirk, all while intentionally squeezing your walls. He lets out a low, throaty moan.

You continue clamping down on him intermittently, and his harsh grip on your hips and the deep furrow in his brow let you know he’s struggling to hold on. So naturally, you decide to tease him further. 

“Oh, I don’t think you can. I guess I’ll just have to get waiter boy to come and finish me off. I’m sure he’d be more than happy to.” You feel him place a firm grip on the back of your neck, and he uses the leverage to pull you to him and meet each of his thrusts.

Your mouth falls open and your eyes close at the feeling, but they fly open as you feel a harsh slap against your ass. You moan as he grips your stinging flesh and squeezes it in his hand.

“In. his. fucking. dreams.” He punctuates each word with a deliciously hard thrust. 

He begins rubbing your sensitive nub again, and your eyes roll to the back of your head. You barely muster the strength to lift your head as you hear Miguel mutter, “Speak of the devil.”

Confused, you attempt to focus your eyes and you see a shadowy figure rounding the side of the car. Miguel grabs the back of your head and smooshes it against the glass. As the person comes into full view, you see the familiar face of your waiter as he stands in front of the window. The fog that has formed on the glass makes it impossible for him to see anything but your face, but he definitely sees you. You know you should try to hide, but in the moment, you don’t care. It all feels so good, and you’re too cock-drunk to think or act with any reason.

The waiter looks confused, and then you see his face redden as he realizes what’s going on. He stands there for a minute, listening to your muffled moans through the window.

“Tell him who gets to fuck you,” Miguel commands.

You barely hear what he says as you feel the pressure building in your core. You babble out some incoherent response, so he repeats himself.

“Tell him. Tell him who gets to fuck you.” He’s rubbing at your clit even faster now, and you squeal at the almost overwhelming sensation.

“You, Miguel! Only you get to fuck me like this!” You finally answer. You’re not sure if the waiter heard what you said, but the way his eyes widen makes you think he does. Having the creep hear what he wanted him to hear, Miguel leans over and bangs on the glass, effectively startling the guy. He jumps at the sound and when he quickly tears his eyes away from you and shuffles away hurriedly.

As he steps away, you finally let go, and you topple over the edge once again. You shake underneath Miguel as he holds you to him, reaching his release as well. He kisses down the back of our neck before pulling out and flipping you over, so you’re face to face.

“Think he got the message?” Miguel asks, his face flushed as he attempts to catch his breath.

You cradle his face and push his hair back, admiring the view of him hovering above you. You pull his lips yours and kiss him deeply before pulling away to place a few soft kisses on his face, and he does the same to you in return.

“Yeah, I think he heard you loud and clear,” you respond.

"No, I think he heard you loud and clear,” he counters and laughs when you playfully smack his chest. You cover your eyes with your hand and groan as the reality of what you just did sets in.

“Well, I guess we can never come back here,” you say dejectedly as you mentally add this restaurant to the list of places you can no longer go because of you and Miguel’s collective lack of control.

He chuckles, and you pull your hand away and look him in the eyes. “It’s not funny! If we’re not careful, we won’t be able to show our face anywhere in this town,” you say playfully.

“Eh, worth it,” he responds, kissing your forehead.

Bite Me

Pairing: Steven Grant x fem reader

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

Rating: 18+, smut

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

Word count: 2,771

Credit: @automnepoet for proofreading ily.

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

"Wow, you look amazing!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"For you, mommy." 

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

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

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

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

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

"Hey!"

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

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

"Alright, sweetheart, now you can."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Bite me again."

"What?"

"Bite me again. Please, mommy."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Or you could just wear no underwear–"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Oh Steven –ah!– baby–"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Eh… fuck her."

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

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

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

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)

Submission

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You still couldn't believe your luck, honestly. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Andy Barber.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Because he was a mobster.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I-I'm sorry, sir, I didn't realize–"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Literally. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Oh, I'm so sorry–"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And it scared you.

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

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

"You didn't, I offered."

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

You felt like you couldn't say no.

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

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

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

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

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

"Do you live alone?"

"Are you close to your family?"

"Are you seeing anyone?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your terror was like a living, breathing thing.

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

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

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

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

Far, far away from civilization.

From help.

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

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

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

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

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

“He was right, you are beautiful.”

“W-who was right?” You trembled. 

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

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

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

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

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

“But first, how about a little show?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And not just him. 

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

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

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

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

Andy Barber. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You chose to survive.

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

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

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

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

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

Whatever this awful experience had been, it was over. 

And you were safe now.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You started with unsure, tentative strokes, part of you trying to draw out the inevitable, and part of you trying to remember how to even do this, because it had been ages since you'd been intimate with someone, since you worshipped a cock. 

And never on command and display like this.

“Let’s go, pumpkin," Lloyd's voice startled you as he urged you to, "Get to the good stuff.”

Feeling your face warm, and getting a glimpse of Andy's growing look of impatience, you pressed up on your knees and hesitated for just a second before licking a long stripe up the length of Andy's cock. 

He inhaled deeply at the drag of your tongue against him, at the way you shyly suckled on the tip of him, drawing out dribbles of pre-cum as your hand stroked and twisted around the base of his length.

As you moved in for another taste, Andy rasped, “Eyes on me.”

You stilled for a beat, your tearful gaze shooting up to his, and by the time your lips were wrapping around the head of his cock, a new wave of tears were streaking down your cheeks as you drew him into your hot mouth.

Andy's moans were wordless as his hand shot out to cradle the back of your head and hold you in place as his hips eagerly rutted up.

So it was Lloyd who commanded you now, his voice smokier than before as he groaned, “Yeah, that's it, pumpkin, get him all wet and sloppy." 

You came up for a breath, unable to stop yourself from glancing over at Lloyd to find him

gripping himself through the front of his pants, the outline of his hard cock clearly visible and making another rush of heat consume you. 

“Wanna hear those filthy sounds once he starts fucking that pretty throat," Lloyd hummed.

"Fuck," Andy grunted, gripping the back of your head harder and guiding your wide gaze back to him. "Do it. Do what he said. I want you an absolute fucking mess for me." 

Shivering, and feeling shame blanket you as more slick seeped from your pussy, you hovered over Andy's hard cock, gripping him firmly as you covered his cock in your spit and worked him with both of your hands for a beat. 

“Don’t forget the balls,” Lloyd chimed gleefully, making you pause your ministrations as Andy shot him a dirty look.  

“Do you fucking mind?” Andy gritted.

Lloyd's grin was cheshire like. “What? I’m living vicariously through you at the moment, Barber, gimme a fucking break.”

Rolling his eyes, Andy returned his attention to you, urging you closer to his cock with a firm grip on the back of your neck. “Relax that throat, honey.” He guided his weeping cock to your mouth before shoving past your lips, down your throat, and holding you there as you gagged and tried to recoil. “Mmm, fuck. I knew you’d make me feel so good, sweetheart. Been dreaming about this for months.”

And that was all the warning you got before Andy started to fuck your face in earnest. 

He was rough as he used you, his hips driving hard and unrelenting down your throat as he grunted and groaned at the feel of you, at the way you were whining and crying and resisting until finally going limp and sagging against him in complete surrender.

"Yeah, that's it, you know your place now, don't you, honey?" Andy husked, giving a particularly hard rut that had you gagging and struggling to breathe as you curled your fingers into his pants. 

From a few feet away, Lloyd groaned loudly, and although you couldn't see him, you could hear the sound of him beating off to the sight of Andy so ruthlessly owning you.

Although you knew it was wrong, although you didn't want to be here with them doing this, part of you must have enjoyed it–being used, the attention–because your cunt was weeping a steady stream of arousal and your insides were throbbing and clenching and desperate for something your logical mind didn't want at all.

Andy's thrusts became harder and faster–wild–as he gripped your head between both of his big hands and pistoned his hips against your face, feeding you every hard, steely inch of his cock over and over again, until your were dizzy and weak from lack of oxygen and your throat was raw.

Finally, Andy gasped, rutting hard and lingering in the deep depths of your abused throat before suddenly pulling his throbbing cock from your mouth as his briny flavor burst along your tastebuds, finishing himself with his hand as he aimed his cum at your face.

Still gasping for breath, you winced as he held you in place by the scruff of your neck and you felt ribbon after ribbon of his warm, sticky spend hit your face and dribble down. By the time he was done, you were covered in Andy's cum, your stomach burning from shame and humiliation as you distantly registered the sound of Lloyd reaching his own peak from just a few feet away. 

And at your expense.

Andy's satisfied hum was throaty and primal as he finally sagged back in his seat, completely spent, his broad chest heaving as he watched you with a feral, possessive look in his eyes.

He was still gripping the base of his spent cock as he arched a brow at you, expectant.

And somehow, you knew exactly what he wanted, feeling your stomach flip unpleasantly as a new wave of tears burned at the back of your eyes. 

Suppressing the urge to curl up and cry, you sank back on your haunches, wringing your trembling hands in your lap, hyper-aware of the way Andy's cum covered your face and neck as you met his dark, wicked gaze and trembled out a soft, “Thank you, sir."

Ignoring Lloyd’s loud guffaw, Andy smirked at you, nodding before gesturing to his now soft, spit-covered cock. “Clean me up like a good girl, and then we’ll go home.”

Feeling more tired than anything at this point, you didn't argue or delay as you moved close and cleaned the stray cum and spit from Andy's cock with your mouth before tucking him away and redoing the front of his pants and belt.

Just as you went to rise from between his legs, Andy gripped your shoulder and kept you in place, at his feet.

He watched you for a beat, his gaze searching and still predatory with that glint of meanness seeping back into his eyes, and you knew before he even spoke that your humiliation and debasement wasn't quite finished yet.

"You know, as much as I enjoyed that–" Andy started before Lloyd cut him off. 

"Fucking same."

Andy continued as if he hadn't been interrupted. "I can't help but wonder if you enjoyed it too, sweetheart."

You must have had a tell, perhaps a hint of shame or guilt or panic in your wide eyes as you stared at Andy, because he chuckled, grinning at you knowingly as he finally released your shoulder and sat back in his seat. 

"Sit back and spread your legs for me, honey."

"W-what?" you trembled, hugging yourself tightly.

Andy tutted. "We're really gonna need to work on that." You cowered at his look of displeasure, the way his beardy jaw ticced in annoyance. "Sit back and spread your legs wide, I wanna see just how much you loved sucking my cock."

Swallowing back a sob, you did as you were told, easing back into a sit on the floor before him and hesitating for a moment before you were shyly opening your legs to Andy's eager gaze. 

"Wider," he snapped, his eyes hungry as they got a glimpse of the shiny petals of your sex.

Biting your lower lip, you spread your legs as wide as you could, feeling the cool air of the warehouse warring with the sticky, hot folds of your pussy that were now on full display.

Humming, Andy leaned forward in his set, resting his forearms on his thighs as he stared at your cunt and the clear, undeniable evidence of your arousal. 

"I dunno," he purred with a wicked smirk. "I think I need a second opinion on whether or not you liked sucking my cock. What do you think, Hansen?"

You nearly snapped your legs closed as Lloyd sauntered closer, coming to a stop just over Andy's shoulder, but the latter's hard gaze had you maintaining your current vulnerable position, if only to make him happy, to be done with all of this.

"Oh, I think that's one drippy pussy," Lloyd observed, leering at you and licking his lips as he cooed, "Someone's all excited, huh, pumpkin?"

You finally lost the battle with crying, a sob hitching loudly in your chest as you pressed your legs closed and hugged them to your chest to hide.

Andy sighed loudly, shaking his head as he said, "You gotta learn, you're not allowed to hide from me, honey." Gesturing to Lloyd with two fingers, he instructed, "Hold her spread open for me.”

Lloyd grinned at your alarmed look. "With pleasure."

Before you could even think to move, let alone try to run or resist, Lloyd was settled behind you on the floor, his legs sprawled on either side of you as he wrapped an arm around your middle and yanked until your back was flush to his chest. 

You whined as his big hands smoothed down your bare thighs before he was gripping just beneath either of your knees with his hands and yanking your legs up and open, until your pussy was on obscene display for Andy's satisfied gaze.

Andy moved closer, until he was crouching right in front of you and you were trapped between these two, big terrifying men.

Shuddering, Andy just stared at your pussy for a long moment. His eyes were the darkest you had seen yet, his hands twitching before him, and then he was moving impossibly close, kneeling between your sprawled legs, and reaching for you.

You gasped as his thick fingers traced up the cut of you, his touch taking its time before he was swirling gentle circles around your clit. You couldn't help the way your body jerked and trembled at his touch, a soft mewl falling from your lips when the press of his fingers grew firmer against your clit and a sudden heat sparked to life deep in your gut.

Andy continued to pet all along your pussy, spreading around the copious amount of slick that was there and kept on flowing, and when his finger finally teased along your clenching hole, you whined, sinking back against Lloyd without thought and canting your hips in a silent plea for more.

A wordless offer.

Your complete and total submission.

Grinning, Andy teased a finger just inside your cunt, getting a soft, pretty moan from you before he was cooing, “This is such a pretty tight hole you have, sweetheart, I can’t wait to fuck it.”

"I think you should make her take both our cocks at the same time," Lloyd groaned, his touch growing more firm on your legs as he tucked his chin against your shoulder and avidly watched the way Andy gently fingered your pussy.  "There's no way this sweet little angel has been DP'd."

Andy laughed at the way your eyes fluttered open–wide and alarmed at Lloyd's suggestion–as you shot him a pleading look. "I think we should save that for another time. Gotta ease her into things."

"Boring," Lloyd huffed in disappointment.

Giving you another one of those pleased, boyish grins, Andy gently collared your throat with his free hand, aiming your glossy gaze his way as a second finger pushed in beside the first and he slowly, deeply fucked you with his fingers. 

"Feels good, doesn't it, honey?"

You nodded, mindless now, the fear that had been prevalent in your mind all night finally taking a back seat and deferring to the pleasure that Andy was wringing from your needy, wanting body.

You whimpered as he twisted his wrist, found that spongy spot with hardly an effort at all, and rubbed.

"Oh, my god!" you gasped, your back arching as you whined and tried to rut into the drive of Andy's fingers.

"Yeah, that's it, fucking give it to her," Lloyd grunted, nipping at the side of your throat.

"Oh, I think she liked that," Andy huffed a laugh. "Her pussy went wild when you bit her."

"Such a bad girl," Lloyd murmured against your ear, nipping your lobe hard and grinning when you moaned and rocked your hips into Andy's driving fingers even harder. 

"You wanna cum, sweetheart?" Andy asked. His hand dropped from your throat so he could start to rub at your clit as he railed you even harder with his fingers, faster, until you were keening and babbling and begging to cum.

"Please, please, Andy!" you whined, so very desperate to cum, to seek the height of your release, to feel your body ripple with it, to get lost in feeling good for the first time all night. "Please, please, please!"

Just as the tingle started at the base of your spine, just as your thighs began to twitch and your toes curled, Andy stopped.

You sobbed out a devastated, "No!" when he pulled away from you completely, his smirk mean and victorious as he sucked his messy fingers into his mouth and hummed at the flavor of your fleeting, unfulfilled pleasure.

"You don't really think you deserve to cum after everything, do you?" he laughed, rising to his full height and taking a moment to enjoy the sight of you at his feet.

Still covered in his cum, trembling and unsatisfied as you stared up at him, seemingly unaware of the way Lloyd was copping a feel and groping your breasts in his big hands. 

But also with that shine of want–of need–in your eyes. 

For him.

At last.

"Come on, honey, time to go home."

Lloyd huffed his irritation as he shoved you away from him and to your feet before rising to his own. "Good fucking thing I have my own needy, drippy pussy waiting for me at home, because otherwise this night would have been a complete fucking waste."

"But a well paying one," Andy smirked at him. 

Rolling his eyes, Lloyd spared you one final leer and a pat on your bare ass as he stalked past you. "Until next time, pumpkin."

You stared after him, still dazed and trembling. You blinked, then grimaced at the way Andy's drying cum was beginning to pull at your skin. When you lifted a hand to start to wipe it away, Andy caught your wrist in his.

"Leave it," he commanded, his eyes hard and daring you to resist him as he placed the softest of kisses against your palm.

Shivering, you blinked back your tears of humiliation before nodding. 

Andy's smile was slow to unfurl across his lips, but it was genuine, if not a little smug. A moment later, he was shrugging out of his suit jacket and carefully draping it over your shoulders, enjoying your relieved look and whispered, "Thank you," as he secured a couple of the buttons and gripped your arms through the thick material.

When he tugged you against him, you didn't resist, just sank against his chest and waited for whatever came next.

For whatever he wanted.

"Good girl," Andy grinned, pressing a gentle kiss to the crown of your head, and then another to your forehead. 

Giving you a final squeeze, he stepped back, touched a finger beneath your chin and tipped your messy, dazed face up to his. He pressed a final kiss to the tip of your nose, gentle as could be, and then he was giving a happy sigh, corralling you close, and leading you outside to take you home.

With him.

Where you belonged.

Hoe em geeeee. I just, have no words lol. But hopefully you do! Please take a moment to reblog, comment, or drop an ask - I'd love to know what you thought of this one. And I maaay have ideas for a follow up or two. One for Andy and one for Lloyd 😏 So pterodactyl screeching with me definitely helps keep the muse inspired!

—

If you enjoyed this work, please consider tipping your friendly neighborhood hoe, here on Tumblr or through my Kofi. A lot of time, love, and energy goes into my writing, so your support is very much appreciated! Thank you! ❤️

—

I no longer do tag lists, but if you'd like to be notified when I post new writing, follow my side blog @‌sirisshamelesshoelibrary​ and turn on notifications to get pinged when I drop some new hoe fuel 😘

Please note that I do not give permission for my work to be translated, reposted, or published anywhere other than my Tumblr or my personal author website. Reblogs are most welcome and encouraged though! ❤️

MAY CALAMAWY as LAYLA EL FAOULY

Bossy Boy

Steven Grant X f!Reader

Not Beta Read - Requested by @xbellaxcarolinax

Kinks - Pushy Bottom + Messy Orgasm

Summary

You and Steven are trying out the dom/sub lifestyle and it's...it's not going according to plan.

Tags/Warnings

NSFW, dom/sub relationship (sorta), Steven and Reader are trying it out, p in v creampie, sex, smut, pwp

Word Count: 686

“Steven, what have I told you?”

“To be patient love but…” he whined and arched his hips upward, the fat head of his leaking cock brushing your folds, “come on, I think I’ve waited long enough, yeah?” 

Steven wasn’t good at being a sub, and if you were being honest, you weren’t the best dom either. You complied, lowering yourself over him, something you were pretty sure you were supposed to make him beg for, but you wanted it as badly as he did and you had little self control.

It sounded like you sat down in a puddle, given the accumulation of both yours and Steven’s arousal pooled underneath you. He wasted no time grabbing your ass cheeks in a firm grip, guiding you as you started riding him at a moderate pace. You whacked his hands away as soon as you remembered what the two of you were trying to do. You were trying - and failing at - the dom and sub dynamic in the bedroom.

“Bad boy Steven!” You tapped his chest playfully.

He grabbed the bedding at his sides and held on tight, biting his lower lip as you continued working yourself on his length. You let out a sigh in pleasure, rising and falling over him at an even tempo. You felt his hips bucking upward, demanding more from you. You leaned over and grabbed his strong throat, your hand looking pathetically small against it.

“Stop moving,” you ordered with little conviction.

“S-sorry love, can’t help m’self, feels so good I–”

“Shh,” you slid your hand off his throat and covered his mouth in your palm.

He kept mumbling, even though you had no idea what he was saying to you. You started moving a little faster, seeing how desperate he was. Everything was so wet between your bodies, and with Steven, always such a leaky thing, you never knew who was to blame: you or him. You felt both of his hands on your hips again and his eyes rolled back in his head.

This time he didn’t let go, and he started pumping himself into you faster. You gasped, grabbing both of his forearms. He was slamming upward, cock brushing against your cervix with every pass.

“Steven you’re supposed to–” you fell back, hands grabbing his legs while he jackhammered himself into you harder from below, “-y-you’re supposed to–f-fuck it–oh god!”

Steven was holding onto your waist so hard you thought he might crush you, but you didn’t care; it felt so good. He moved one of his hands over your abdomen and started using the pad of his thumb to roll over your swollen clit. You started screaming nonsensically into the flat, hoping to god that your neighbors were out.

“That’s it love-this is what I need-oh yes-need to make you cry out darling–shit!”

Well you’d tried, but Steven was just too pushy, and you liked when he acted so desperate he couldn’t stop himself from just taking what he wanted. The two of you flat out sucked at being a dom and sub, but that was okay, maybe you’d try again another time.

“Look at that p-pretty-little-thing-god!” His voice was cracking with every sharp, raspy moan that escaped his lips. “Feels so good love, feels good squeezin’ me so hard I–oh god I–I–yes-yes-yes!”

Steven’s hips stopped suddenly, cock throbbing with every spurt of cum it spilled into you. Your fluttering cunt was accompanied by your gasping whines of pleasure as your climax washed over you as well. Steven pumped you so full it started spilling out the sides. As you both came down from your simultaneous release, you leaned forward and placed a kiss on his - still wide open - mouth.

“M’not good at the submissive thing love, so sorry, just…needed it y’know?” He huffed out a laugh.

“I know, we can try again another time,” you kissed his cheek and then slid off of him.

Steven was covered all over his lower abdomen and legs in your combined juices. He looked down at himself chuckling and then raising an eyebrow at you.

“Made quite a mess didn’t we?”

Steven Grant Masterlist

Moon Knight Masterlist

Melody's 1k Celebration Masterlist