I Would Eat My Left Shoe For A Couple Of Lines About Steven Being Eager To Get The Reader Pregnant.

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Rock Me to Sleep

Summary: Joel makes love to you in a rocking chair. Cock warming. Size difference. Size kink. P & V, unprotected sex. Creampie.

Warnings:18 +. Smut.

The mild afternoon breeze drifts through the thin curtains of the living room. It gently blows the damp strings of hair from your face from the humid summer heat. Your thin cotton dress clings to you like a second skin, pooling around your hips that sit atop his own. Legs are dangling in the air at the sides of his thighs, through the opening of the arm rests of the rocking chair.

You lay into his chest perfectly, nuzzled into him like a child with their favorite blanket. He's safe. He's your security. Your arms wrapped around his neck, salt and pepper curls brushing against the back of your wrists. A low rumble hums in his chest when you gently nibble his salty, musky skin at his trapezius. He has one large hand planted firmly at your low back and the other brushing gentle strokes at the base of your skull through your damp hair.

He rocks the chair forward and so does your weight, adding depth where he can only touch, and weight to his balls. As he rocks back, the drag of his head pulls from deep in that place that's just for him and pulls back to tease that soft space at the roof of your swollen pussy, making open mouth whimpers ghost his neck.

He slowly rocks you. Forward and backward, in and out, your milky arousal begins to collect at the base of his girth. He brings you into a tight embrace and buries his nose and mouth in your shoulder, leaving open mouthed muffled moans. His eyes are closed, eyebrows furrowed with droplets of sweat threatening to spill over the crest of his brows and down his temples.

Forward and backward.

Forward and backward.

Your labored breathing matches each other. You communicate in grunts, gasps and muffled moan into each other's skin as his rocking picks up the pace. When he rocks forward, he can't help himself as he lifts his hips up into your weight. He's deep, he makes you ache. Your head falls back and a high whimper squeaks from your throat. He moves his plush lips and scruff to the column of your throat and huffs.

"Oh baby, oh baby", he whines.

"Jo - oh Joel. Yes".

He continues to dig and pull, deeper and faster with every thrust and rock. As he kisses that spot deep inside over and over, he nearly cries into your neck, teeth clenched.

" 'S that my spot?", his voice quivers as he rocks you forward and thrusts higher into you.

It makes you howl high at the ceiling and squeeze fists of his hair and shirt. "Yes!".

His beard scratches at your throat and his breath is hot like fire.

The arm around your low back scoots you along his pelvis and into his belly. His thick coarse pubic hair drags against your oversensitive clit. Your mouth falls open in an exaggerated gasp. You cling to him for purchase as he continues dragging, digging, pulling and rocking you. You feel a throbbing ache in your low belly that shoots hot fire through your womb and into your swollen pussy. You pulsate around him with a pinpoint burst of extasy from your clit that spreads heat through your whole body as you cum.

His mouth is open on your neck, eyes squeezed shut and face twisted in a grimace of pleasure as he feels your thighs shake and your pussy spasms around his cock. He spills into you with a shout and jolts his head into your cervix with every contraction of spill from his balls. You both go limp in the chair, heaving and sighing after your release. Your head falls into his neck again, nuzzling his collar as he strokes resume on the back of your neck and base of your spine. He gently rocks again, forward and backwards, this time rocking you to sleep.

workin on one right now :))))

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.

Share Your Blessings • Mob!Steve x Reader x Mob!Bucky

18+

Summary: Bucky's always known that you're his biggest blessing. A God-sent angel from above. Who's he to keep you all to himself?

Content Warning: Mob!Bucky x Reader established relationship, Mob!Steve x Reader, smut (buck gets cucked, daddy kink, degradation kink, oral sex, penetrative sex, voyeurism, overstimulation, creampie, objectification, fingering, spitting, blowjob, face fucking), slight angst, aftercare and fluff.

dedicated to @chirsevans just because

Steve loves coming over to yours for dinner. There's something about the dynamic between you and Bucky that relaxes him. Although you've been together for almost three years now, it's as though you're still in the honeymoon period.

"I don't think it's properly set," You say with a pout as you observe your cheesecake.

Just before your eyes have the chance to fill with tears, Bucky wraps his arms around you and holds you tight, kissing your cheek. "It looks incredible, flower. Doesn't it, Steve?"

"Oh, absolutely," Steve replies immediately, watching as Bucky pulls a smile from your pretty lips with a kiss to your cheek.

Once the sloppy cheesecake has been eaten, the three of you retire to one of the big couches in the living room. Bucky sits facing the left with you on his lap, and Steve takes his place on the other end. The fireplace warms up the room as the three of you bask in each other's presence.

"So I tell him; get it right this time, or you'll never be employed in New York again," Steve finishes off his story with a sordid smirk.

"You're so mean, Steven," You say teasingly, resting your feet on his lap. "You oughta treat people nicer."

"I treat you plenty nice, don't I?" He asks with a raised brow, making you laugh.

"Honey," Bucky whispers, lifting your chin up. "Give me a kiss."

You comply, reaching up to kiss him. His hand cups your neck while his tongue slips into your mouth. He usually isn't one for public displays of affection, but you welcome it.

When you pull away, you look back at Steve who was seemingly watching you the whole time. With a smirk, you raise a brow. "Enjoy the show, perv?" You press your foot gently against his inner thigh, dangerously close to his semi-hard boner.

Bucky just chuckles from behind you. He doesn't mind what a flirt you are when it comes to Steve, as Steve is the one who introduced you two to each other due to your flirty nature, knowing you and Bucky were suited. If you weren't so open and forward, Bucky might not have ever met you.

When Steve says nothing in response, you frown. "You okay, Stevie?"

Bucky brings his mouth to your ear and loudly whispers, "I think he's feeling left out."

A laugh leaves your mouth, before you sit up against Bucky's chest. "Come kiss me then."

Steve falters. Did you really just say that? He looks to Bucky for permission, but the brunette just shoots him a wink. Taking that as his green light, Steve leans over to you and gives you a soft peck on your lips. Admittedly, the alcohol in his system is making him more confident than usual.

You sigh when he pulls away all too soon. "A real kiss, Steven."

Once again, he looks to Bucky for approval who gives him a nod. Crawling over to you, Steve brings his lips to yours, kissing you deeper this time. You open your mouth and allow his tongue to slip and slide against yours as you let out soft whimpers. The kiss is hot and passionate, and the fact that your boyfriend is watching only makes it hotter.

Bucky's hand slowly slides under your dress and to your panties. Pushing them to the side, he rubs his fingers over your clit, making you shudder. "Fuck, Steve, you're making her so wet," He groans as the two of you pull away from the kiss. With a smirk, Bucky presses his cheek against yours and looks up at Steve. "It's only right that you taste it."

Overtaken by desire, Steve wastes no time in ripping your panties apart and burying his face between your legs. His tongue laps at your cunt, making your back arch against Bucky. Bucky's hand finds yours and your fingers interlock while you moan out. You've never discussed the idea of doing anything sexual with anyone else, but the spontaneity of the moment only fuels your pleasure.

"Just like that, Steve," You whine. "Eating my pussy so good."

"You like that, you little slut?" Bucky mutters into your ear. "You like having another man tasting what's mine?"

"Mmm, fuck," You groan, running your hand through Steve's hair as he sucks on your clit. "Keep going, please."

Steve happily obliges, swirling his tongue over your folds and poking it into your entrance, fucking you with it as his thumb rubs your clit. The absurdity of the fact that Steve is eating you out while Bucky whispers what a slut you are brings you to your orgasm quicker than ever, and your thighs squeeze Steve's head.

His face reddens at the lack of oxygen, but he doesn't care for breathing right now. He consumes your pussy juices with vigor, growling against you. In seconds, you cum all over his face, letting out a scream. Steve groans loudly, sucking every drop of your juice he can get. You loosen your thighs, allowing him to pull away and catch his breath.

"Fuck," You and Steve say at the same time, both of you breathing heavily.

With a dark look in his eyes, Bucky wraps his arm around your chest, staring up at Steve. "You need to know what the inside of my little whore's pussy feels like," He tells the blonde darkly. "When you have it wrapped around your cock..." He trails off, letting out a sigh. "Fuck. You'll have a taste of heaven, Rogers."

With his eyes on you, Steve pulls out his hard, swollen cock, making you gasp. You clutch onto Bucky's forearm, blinking. "Daddy, it's so big," You tell him with a whisper before looking up at him. "Bigger than yours."

Bucky smirks at your words, getting off on them. "It's okay," He assures you softly. "You'll take it for Mr. Rogers, won't you?"

Swallowing thickly, you nod. "Yes, daddy."

Bucky grins and gives you a sweet kiss. "Good girl."

Steve brings his cock to your pussy, teasingly rubbing it up and down, coating it in your slick. Once his shaft is covered, he sinks it into you, making you cry out. He's a little thicker than Bucky, stretching your pussy out as he fills you up.

"Daddy," You whimper, looking up at Bucky. "It hurts so good."

He chuckles darkly, stroking your hair. "Such a fucking slut, aren't you? Look at you; letting another man inside you like a little cockwhore."

His words fill you with delight. When Steve feels your cunt flutter around him, can no longer hold back. He begins pounding in and out of you, gripping your hips in his hands.

"Fuck, princess," Steve moans, lifting your leg up onto his shoulder and fucking you deeper. "You were right, Buck. This is fucking heaven."

Bucky smirks, filled with pride. "Good little fuckdoll, isn't she?"

Steve groans loudly, pumping his cock in and out of you while you let out feeble cries. "You're a lucky man, Barnes," He grunts. "Got this pretty little thing at your beck and call, every damn day."

Kissing your cheek, Bucky smiles, stroking your hair. "She's such a good little girl for me. Baby, look at me," He orders gently, tilting your chin towards him. Once your eyes lock, he lowers his voice. "I adore you."

Your pussy tightens at his soft words, making Steve groan as his hips move faster. The tip of his cock hits your cervix, making you feel faint with each thrust. Bucky's gentle cheek kisses keep you grounded, and before long, you feel the familiar knot build up in your core.

"Please, daddy, can I cum?" You ask Bucky, tightening your grip on his hand.

He looks up at Steve with an arrogant grin. "I've trained her well, haven't I?"

"Daddy, please," You whine desperately as your hips buck up. "I'm so close."

Steve pummels into you harder and faster, rubbing your nipples through your cotton dress.

"You can cum, baby," Bucky grants you, cradling your upper body in his arms. "Cum all over Mr. Rogers' cock, like the desperate little slut you are."

"Thank you, daddy," You cry out before letting go and letting your orgasm take over. Your eyes flutter shut and your lips part as you gasp, letting out pretty little moans.

Steve takes in how beautiful you are in this moment, and it makes him cum with no warning. His forehead falls forward to lean against yours and with a growl, he cums deep inside your pussy, filling you with his hot seed.

"Oh, princess," He groans under his breath, giving you a kiss. "So fucking perfect."

Bucky strokes your arm and whispers sweet nothings into your ear while you float down from your high. "I'm so proud of you, babygirl," He mumbles with a smile. "Did so well for daddy."

Meanwhile, Steve stands up and collects himself, zipping up his pants and putting on his suit jacket. When he looks back down at you and your eyes meet in an intense gaze, he reaches out his hand. "Give me a kiss goodbye, princess."

Seeing the soft smile on Bucky's face as his approval, you get up onto your knees and reach up as much as you can. Steve meets you halfway, bending forwards to kiss you deeply. His hands trail down your body until they reach your legs, which he pulls up and wraps around his waist. As your tongues dance, Steve lifts up your dress and spanks your ass, making you gasp. He slaps your ass a few more times, making you whimper into the kiss.

"Calm down now, Rogers," Bucky says sternly, leaning back on the couch and taking a sip from his glass of bourbon.

Steve brushes his lips against yours, smirking. "I bet you miss my cock already, don't you?"

Instantly shy, you hide your face in his chest as your cheeks heat up. Steve gives Bucky a cocky wink, but the brunette stays calm.

"She knows where she belongs," Bucky utters coolly.

"Is that right?" Steve asks with a raised brow, before lifting up your chin. "You know where you belong, princess?"

You nod meekly, with your hands resting on his shoulders. "Mhm."

"And where's that?" He asks with a mutter.

You smile widely before looking over at Bucky. "With daddy," You say bashfully.

Bucky's lips curl up slightly and he gives you a wink.

When you feel Steve's hand trailing over your ass and back down to your pussy, you gasp, looking up at him with wide eyes. He slips his fingers back into your soaking cunt, letting out a low groan. "I can feel my cum inside you, princess," He whispers, slowly pumping his fingers in and out of you. "Filled you up good, didn't I?"

"M- Mr. Rogers," You breathe out, digging your nails into his shoulders. "Please."

The sound of your pussy sucking his digits fills the room as he fingers you sloppily, making his cum and your juices drip down your thighs. You bite down on his shoulder in an effort to hide your moans, but when he curls his fingers inside you, you can't help but moan his name.

"That's it, princess," He says softly, fingering you faster. "Cum one more time for me. Show me what a good slut you really are."

Bucky watches on in silence, seeing the way your face contorts so beautifully as his cock throbs against his pants.

When Steve curls his fingers again and just hits that spot, you feel the string snap and immediately tighten your legs around his waist. "I'm cumming," You tell him with a cry as your third orgasm hits you like a wave, drenching you in pleasure.

He continues sliding his fingers in and out of you as your cunt throbs against them, making him groan. "Fuck, princess, your pussy is gold."

You let out a few shuddered breaths against his neck as you come down, utterly weak and broken apart.

Looking over at Bucky, Steve raises a brow. "You sure I can't take your fucktoy home for the night? I promise I won't break it."

Having reached the extent of his graciousness, Bucky stands up. "In your fucking dreams, Rogers."

Gently, Steve puts you down on the ground, holding onto your hands while you find your strength. "Goodnight, pretty princess," He mumbles, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

"Goodnight, Mr. Rogers," You reply sweetly.

Him and Bucky share a silent nod and Steve then walks out, leaving the two of you alone.

Walking over to you, Bucky lifts you up into his arms and carries you to your bedroom. There, he sits you down on the bed before turning to the walk-in closet to find you both some pyjamas. When he doesn't say anything, you feel your heart thud in your chest.

Nervously, you kneel on the bed and lean forward off the edge. "Daddy?" You ask quietly, biting your lip. "Are you mad?"

He returns with a pile of clothing with a frown on his face. "Why would I be mad, baby?" He asks you softly, sitting next to you and pulling you closer to him.

Bashfully, you look down and play with your fingers. "I- I let him cum inside me."

"Oh, baby, look at me," He says soothingly, cupping your face and making you look up at him with a sympathetic look on his face. "Isn't that what you were made for, hmm? Being a good little cumdump?"

You giggle at his words, nodding. "Yes, daddy."

"That's right," He replies, wrapping his arm around you. "You did so well for daddy tonight."

"I did?" You ask timidly.

"So fucking well, made me so proud," He promises, making your heart swell before giving you a sweet kiss. "I love you."

His words light you up and you grin warmly at him. "I love you more," You promise, before slowly trailing your finger down his chest and to his crotch. Before you have a chance to rub his boner, he takes hold of your wrist.

"No, baby, you've had a long night," He whispers, kissing your cheek. "I want you to rest."

"No," You whine, rubbing his boner anyway as he sucks in a breath. "I wanna make sure you know where I belong," You tell him coyly, before dropping down to your knees and looking up at him with an innocent look. "Right here."

He can't protest any further as you take his throbbing cock out of his pants and into your hand. Tilting your head, you open your mouth wide, not needing to say a single word for him to know what you want.

Leaning forward, Bucky pouts his lips together and lets a long string of his spit fall out and onto your tongue. He strokes your hair before spitting into your mouth once more, his eyes darkening.

You close your mouth and swallow his saliva before wrapping your lips around his cock, immediately taking him deep into your throat. Bucky lets out a loud groan as you begin to suck him off, hollowing your cheeks around him.

"Oh, fuck, so good," He cries out, leaning back on his palm while his other hand takes hold of your hair, helping you bob up and down. With a growl, he forces you further down and begins fucking your face, his cock twitching each time you gag.

You bring up your hand and start playing with his balls, rubbing and squeezing them. Bucky lets out glorious noises as you utterly overwhelm him with pleasure. He cups your face in both his hands, wiping away the tears that escape your eyes.

"Such a good little slut for me," He groans lowly. "My perfect little fucktoy."

You moan onto his cock and the vibrations are enough to send him over the edge. With a cry of your name, Bucky cums into your throat, his hips bucking up as he fucks into your mouth sloppily. You make sure to swallow every drop, and continue sucking him once he's done. He shivers at the sensation, his sensitive dick being sucked dry by your talented mouth.

"My good little cumdump," He whispers, slightly convulsing when you finally pull your mouth off of him.

Grabbing your arms, he pulls you up onto his lap, kissing you. His tongue laps at the residual cum on your lips as he swallows his own seed, moaning into your mouth. Your tongues stroke one another and he cradles you in his arm, falling backwards to lie on his back while you straddle his chest.

"Such a good little girl," He whispers, stroking your back. "So good to daddy, aren't you?"

You kiss his neck, wrapping your arms around him. "I love you, daddy."

"I love you more," Bucky instantly replies, believing that he truly means it. "There's absolutely nothing that I wouldn't do for you, my pretty girl. Nothing."

Clutching him tighter, you snuggle into him, warm in his tight embrace. The pile of pyjamas lay forgotten, sprawled out on the floor, as the two of you slip into a deep slumber.

masterlist

hi! i no longer use a taglist, but if you follow @kinanabinksupdates and turn on notifications, you'll know when i update 🥰

Submission

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You still couldn't believe your luck, honestly. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Andy Barber.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Because he was a mobster.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I-I'm sorry, sir, I didn't realize–"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Literally. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Oh, I'm so sorry–"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And it scared you.

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

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

"You didn't, I offered."

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

You felt like you couldn't say no.

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

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

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

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

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

"Do you live alone?"

"Are you close to your family?"

"Are you seeing anyone?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your terror was like a living, breathing thing.

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

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

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

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

Far, far away from civilization.

From help.

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

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

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

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

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

“He was right, you are beautiful.”

“W-who was right?” You trembled. 

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

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

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

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

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

“But first, how about a little show?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And not just him. 

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

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

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

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

Andy Barber. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You chose to survive.

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

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

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

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

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

Whatever this awful experience had been, it was over. 

And you were safe now.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And never on command and display like this.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you fucking mind?” Andy gritted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And at your expense.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Fucking same."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A wordless offer.

Your complete and total submission.

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

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

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

"Boring," Lloyd huffed in disappointment.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

For him.

At last.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

For whatever he wanted.

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

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

With him.

Where you belonged.

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

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Do you think their periods are synced?

A Little Show

Kinktober Day 10: Stripping

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

thinking about getting crossfaded with marc and then steven fronts ..!!!

18+ minors dni

words: 2.1k

warnings: crossfaded!steven grant x f!reader, marc angst if you squint, mentions of alcohol and weed, light choking, pinv sex, unprotected sex

summary: Marc comes home from a rough mission. He doesn’t want to talk about it; it’s one of those nights where he needs a crutch to ease his sore body and racing thoughts, and he needs you with him. When Steven fronts and is met with the unfamiliar effects of mixing smoking and drinking, there’s only one thing he feels like doing with (to) you.

It’s one of those nights where Marc creeps into the apartment after a long mission with his body sore and tired, his mind racing. It’s past midnight and the sound of the door opening has you stepping out of your shared bedroom and into the hall, arms wrapped around yourself and standing in one of Marc’s shirts as you watch him silently. You watch his broad back as he rummages through your junk drawer in the kitchen, pushing aside rubber bands and post it notes and business cards before grabbing a lighter and making his way to the balcony, fishing a joint from the back pocket of his jeans as he slides the door open and steps outside.

Of course, you follow him. You don’t say anything as you stand beside him and look out at the city skyline against the dark blue sky. You’ve been with Marc long enough and have seen him like this enough times to know that what he needs most is you by his side; not your pity, not your fear or worry, just your presence.

He leans his forearms on the railing and sparks the joint between his lips, taking a deep toke that he holds in his lungs for a few beats before blowing it out. The joint appears between two of his rough fingers an inch in front of your mouth. Marc watches with heavy eyelids as your soft lips close around the filter and you take a drag.

An hour or so later you’ve both made your way back into the apartment, Marc’s shoulders looking more relaxed, the notch between his eyebrows gone. The living room is lit only by the blueish street lamps outside that flood through the window and a few randomly placed candles you lit in an attempt to mask the lingering smell of weed. The coffee table’s become cluttered with a near-empty bottle of wine and two empty glasses, the lighter from the junk drawer and a triangular ashtray meant to resemble a pyramid from the museum gift shop.

The flashing picture of the television reflects in you and Marc’s dry eyes as you half-watch some shitty movie from your seat on the couch. You’re lying between Marc’s legs with your back to his torso, your head rising and falling against his chest with each breath. He’s so warm and his breathing is deep and slow, but you notice the way his stress lingers in how his large hands squeeze your waist, and his strong arms hold you against him so tightly as if someone or something would try to rip you away.

Later on, you feel Marc’s hold on you ease up and his breaths get deeper. Lifting your head slightly from his chest, you look up to confirm he’s asleep and press your lips softly to his stubbled jaw, whispering “I love you,” against his skin. You sit up and turn noiselessly above Marc so you can lay your chest on his torso and wrap your arms around him, pressing your cheek into his chest and closing your dry eyes to slip into your own sleep.

⋆

A sudden movement from beneath you forces you awake, making your heart jump in your chest and eyelids snap open to darkness; it was still nighttime. You must have just fallen asleep, because it’s easy to open your eyes and prop yourself up on your hands on either side of Marc’s body. His torso is tense against your chest and his breaths are quick. His hands no longer rest on your lower back, but hover just above it, as if you’ll break at the softest touch; this wasn’t Marc.

Steven’s red eyes are wide and looking at the paraphernalia that litters the coffee table, “Oh, dear,” he rasps in his accent, slightly slurring his words, “You and Marc have had quite the party.”

His eyes turn to meet yours and you bite the inside of your cheek as you realize something, Steven’s never gotten high before.

“Steven?” you say, “...Are you feeling alright?”

In the dark room you barely notice Steven’s cheeks flush red to match the colour of his eyes, his hands come to rest on your hips and his fingers play anxiously with the hem of your (his) shirt. You’re sitting on your knees between his thighs, still only wearing the shirt and a pair of panties. Your face is still flushed from being pressed against his chest and the blueish light from outside makes your skin glow softly. His tongue darts out to wet his lips before he rasps, “That stuff really… clouds your head up, dunnit?”

“Do you… like it?” you ask. Your big doe eyes are red and searching Steven’s face for any bad signs.

“I, well,” one of his big hands leaves your hip to scratch the back of his neck, his thick bicep flexing with the movement, “I don’t quite know what to do with myself, to be honest.”

His hips squirm slightly on the couch and you look down to see a bulge beneath his briefs, Marc having discarded their jeans hours earlier. You catch your bottom lip between your teeth and bring a hand to rub up and down his thigh, the muscles tensing instantly as he inhales sharply, “You should just relax, baby,” you say, “Y’want me to help?”

“God,” he moans, “Yes, yes, I need your help, love. Please… please, help.”

“Tell me what you need, Steven.”

His hands push your shirt up out of the way, his fingers tugging at your panties, “Wanna fuck you,” he says lowly, “Please let me, baby.”

A quiet moan, almost a sigh, leaves you at his words. The drugs were doing something to Steven, whether he was more confident or he just wanted you that badly, you weren’t sure, but Steven was usually the timid one in the system, asking to be fucked rather than begging to fuck you. Regardless, his change in demeanor was more than okay with you.

His droopy eyes were dark and greedy as they raked over your body, and his warm hand cupped one of your tits over your shirt, salivating at the way the fabric outlined your hardened nipples. You whined at the touch, wanting to feel his skin on yours, “Fuck me, please Steven.”

Your clothes fall to the floor as Steven pulls them off of you. You hiss as he tugs your panties down and you feel the cool air against your warm centre.

“God,” Stephen groans, “You’re so wet f’me. Pussy’s glistening so pretty.”

“Stevennn,” you whine as he kneels above you, holding your knees open and staring down at your cunt.

“Shh, shh,” he stands to pull down his briefs and release his thick cock, dark hair trailing down his lower stomach to the base, before returning to the couch above you, “I’m here, baby. Let us take care of you, yeah?”

Steven grips his cock to guide it to your dripping centre, guiding the thick head through your wet folds to get himself slick. He lands a glob of spit on your cunt before slowly pushing into you. You whine out at the feeling, warmth pooling in your tummy at the familiar way he stretches you, “A-ah… Steven, mmh.” His cock is so hard and thick, and you can’t help that your walls are already squeezing around him.

Steven groans as he collapses over you, holding himself up with his forearms on either side of your head and pushing into you so slowly. Excruciatingly slow. Your head is still hazy from the wine and weed, all you can focus on is the pressure in your belly as Steven bottoms out inside of you. You’re clawing at his bare back, the muscles there rippling and tensing with each long thrust.

He leans his head back to look at you, how you look so pretty for him in the pale light, glossy eyes going unfocused and dumb and he pushes in and out of your cunt, your jaw slack and pink lips parted as you whine and moan, bare tits bouncing softly as he fucks you. He brings a big hand to your throat and squeezes so lightly that you barely register the pressure. Steven has seen Marc hold your neck like this so many times from the mirror in your bedroom, but the view of you pawing at his forearm as you gasp in breaths from this angle turns him on a thousand times more. It has him picking up speed, his thrusts causing a rhythmic and wet slapping as you gush around his length, your juices coating his heavy balls that slap against the soft flesh of your ass.

Your plush thighs tighten around his hips, your eyelids fluttering shut as you blindly paw at Steven’s hard chest, “Come here,” you whine, making Steven collapse over you again and chuckle softly.

“Is that nice, love?” his warmth breath hitting the shell of your ear, “Is my cock filling you nicely? Can you feel me in your belly, baby? Tell me.”

“S-so good, Steven. Sooo deep, mmh.”

“God, such a sweet girl,” he moans, trailing kisses from beneath your ear down your chest and to your tits, taking a nipple between his teeth before darting his tongue out to lick the bud, rolling your other nipple between his thumb and forefinger, “Lettin’ me fuck you like a good girl, aren’t you? Takin’ this cock so well, so nicely.”

You open your eyes to watch Steven pinching and sucking on your nipples. A few dark curls fall over his forehead and his thick brows furrowed in concentration, all the while still thrusting into your leaking cunt. You squeeze around his girth at the sight, he was so hungry for you, sloppily and greedily devouring your tits, a trail of his spit glistening across your chest.

“Steven… W-wanna cum,” you whine, grabbing at his hips to pull him closer, deeper.

He pulls his mouth away from your nipple with a pop and looks down at you, all hooded eyes and puffy wet lips, “Shh, alright,” he coos, “Let me pound you ‘til y’cum. Would y’like that?”

You only manage to nod your head a few centimetres before Steven takes your hips in his hands, his fingers digging into your soft flesh as he lifts your hips and begins slamming his cock into you. The new angle and the force of his thrusts has you crying out. Your cries and gasps fill the apartment, along with the smack of his hips against you, your pussy squeezing and squelching as Steven bullies his thickness inside your tight hole.

“That’s it,” he groans, “S’good at takin’ cock, sweet girl.”

The rough pad of Steven’s thumb began rubbing harsh circles over your clit, the pressure threatening to snap the invisible cord inside you. The thick head of his cock pounds that sweet spot deep inside you and his length rubs against your soaked and gummy walls.

“Fuckkk, y/n,” he moans, “Squeezin’ me so tight. Y’gonna cum, baby? All over m’cock?”

His deep and raspy voice has you falling over the edge, the invisible cord snapping in your tummy as you gush and throb around his length. Steven falls forwards and wraps his arms around you, your face buried into his neck as you sobbed, his face pressed into your hair as he grunted deeply.

Steven rides out your orgasm, pushing his still hard cock in and out of your sore cunt. He finally pulls out of you when you push on his chest and whine at the overstimulation.

He brings your legs together and hugs your knees to his chest, your ankles resting on his shoulder as he rubs his length between your wet, puffy folds and sticky inner thighs. You both stare down at the sight of his leaking cockhead poking through your thighs with each thrust.

“Mmf,” he moans, “M’cummin’, m’cummin’, fuckkk…”

Warm, thick spurts of Steven’s cum coat your lower belly as he cums. You swallow thickly and bite your bottom lip at the sight. It’s so filthy, Steven’s cock between your weak and shaking thighs, his forehead glistening with the effort of bringing you both to the finish line. His wet tongue darts out to wet his lips, his jaw slack as he stares down at your spent and fucked out body that’s now covered in his cum.

He presses a kiss to your shin before letting your legs down and heading to the bathroom for a cloth to clean you up, stumbling a little on the way.

Once he’s wiped you clean, Steven lays beside you propped up on his elbow, one hand on the side of your face and rubbing your temple with his thumb, the other roaming your body, squeezing your tits lightly, rubbing your tummy and hips, kneading the flesh of your thighs with his fingers.

You fall asleep to Steven’s warm voice in your ear. He chants quiet “Thank you”s and “I love you”s until he drifts off too.

<3

Hi mommy Kinny. For a Steve request, how about enemy’s! Dad steve. Like the person you hate the most has the hottest dad oops 🤭

The Cheerleader

18+

The captain of the football team is a total bitch. Her dad's pretty fucking hot, though.

Content Warning: DILF!Steve x Cheerleader!Reader, age gap (around 20 yrs), smut (public sex, daddy kink, degradation kink, face fucking, rough sex, cream pie), no aftercare.

"We won't stop, we won't be beat! Falcons never taste defeat! Goooooo Falcons!"

You kick your leg straight up at the end of the chant, waving your pom-poms with a wide grin. Cheering for the football team isn't exactly your favorite part of cheerleading, but it has to be done. It feel juvenile and basic compared to the intense cheer competitions you take part in, but part of college cheering unfortunately includes supporting the sports teams.

No matter how irritating the players are.

"Make sure there aren't any of your feathers laying around, this time," Jamie spits bitterly as you and the others walk off the field. "Annoying ass chants."

"Excuse me?" You ask pointedly while Davina attempts to pull you away.

"You heard me," Jamie doubles down, glaring at you. "Get off the damn field; your embarrassing dance is over."

Rolling your eyes, you pull your arm out of Davina's grip before stepping closer to Jamie. "You know, maybe if you stopped losing so badly, game after game, you wouldn't be so frustrated," You say casually. "The only thing embarrassing about what I do is the fact that it's for such a shitty team."

"What would Coach Wilson say if he heard you talk about the team like that?" She retorts bitterly.

You start to walk away, shrugging. "I don't know, Rogers. If you ever take his dick out of your mouth long enough for you to ask him, let me know what he says."

Her eyes widen with rage as she lunges for you. "Bitch!" She yells, immediately being held back by her teammates.

Jamie Margaret Rogers is your worst enemy. It's been that way since freshman year, and you don't see it ever changing. For some inexplicable reason, the two of you have never gotten along. Something about the other sets off the ugliest side of you both, leading to blow ups and fights if you're ever in the same vicinity for too long.

"One day, one of you is gonna end up killing the other," Davina warns as she leads you over to the bleachers. "Do you know how traumatic that's gonna be for me to witness?"

"She's fucking insufferable," You mutter, slamming your ass down on an empty seat.

You manage to calm down somewhat as the game begins, doing your best to ignore the fact that you despise the captain of the team. Time passes and soon it's halftime.

"What's she doing?" Davina asks with a frown, her eyes on Jamie who is currently rushing up the stairs of the bleachers.

"I swear to God, if she starts on me again, I'm gonna rip her head off," You grumble, sitting up and preparing yourself for another round.

She reaches your row and you're sure she's about to yell at you - until she grins widely. "Dad, you came!"

Oh.

Out of curiosity, you turn to the left to watch her as she talks to her father. When you get a glimpse of him, though, you do a double take. Why the fuck is he so hot?

After a brief conversation, Jamie rushes back down to the field, leaving you with wide eyes.

"Bro," You utter, gripping Davina's forearm. "Please tell me why Jamie's dad is the most attractive man I've ever seen."

Assuming that you're kidding, Davina looks over with a smirk - before it drops completely. "Holy shit."

Blinking a few times, you release her arm and state, "I'm gonna fuck him."

She snorts, narrowing her eyes at you. "You cannot fuck Jamie's dad. He's married."

"Her parents are divorced. Remember that essay she wrote about it?" You ask, feeling your heart race. "Oh, my God."

"Have you seen him?" Davina questions you with a scoff. "As if he's single."

"I don't care," You say flippantly. "He's an older man and I'm a cheerleader; he'll be into it. I'm literally going to fuck him. This is the greatest revenge plan."

"Y/N, you can't-"

"See you on the other side," You cut her off and stand to your feet, taking in a deep breath. Letting your adrenaline propel you, you slowly start to walk up to his row. He's focusing on the game, but he gives you a couple of glances as you stand at the side. Instead of saying a single word, you simply send him a smile. When he looks you up and down, his eyes lingering on your short skirt, you know you've got a chance.

The second your eyes meet, you shoot him a wink. He raises a brow at you, and you feel your stomach flip. Fuck. He's so hot.

Sitting next to him is Pietro, your plug, so you walk over to kneel on an empty seat in front of them before leaning over the back of it. "Hey, Piet," You begin, instinctively pushing your chest out. "Can you drop off a gram to my dorm tonight?"

Jamie's dad keeps his eyes forward, doing his best to make it look like he isn't listening to the conversation.

"Sure thing," Pietro replies before lowering his voice. "You gonna pay me in cash this time?"

You laugh at that, leaning closer into him. "How about I just suck your dick again?"

He sighs, rolling his eyes. "You're lucky I have a thing for cheerleaders," Pietro mutters bitterly.

As you get up to walk away, you make eye contact with Jamie's dad who's staring intently at you. You lick your lips before walking past him, making sure to brush your leg against his shoulder as you walk up the stairs and to the back of the stadium.

It takes him four minutes to join you in the parking lot.

He pretends to have only come for a smoke break; lighting a cigarette and leaning against the fence without sparing you a glance. You saunter over to him, coyly smiling as you approach him.

"Can I?" You ask him innocently, glancing down at the cigarette.

His eyes flicker down to you. "It's bad for you."

"Who cares?" You shrug. "Everyone does it."

Turning to you, he leans down and lowers his voice. "The only thing your lips should ever wrap around is a cock," He utters. "And, judging from your conversation with your little friend, you do that plenty."

You tilt your head. "Are you calling me a slut, Mr. Rogers?"

"Depends," He replies, standing up straight. "Are you a slut?"

"Depends," You echo. "Do you want me to be?" Reaching out, you place your hand on his huge bicep. "I can be a good girl, if you want. I can be a virgin who's never so much as kissed a boy. Is what what you're into, Mr. Rogers? You wanna ruin my innocence?"

He swallows thickly before tossing his cigarette to the ground and stamping it out. Without a word, he grabs you by the throat and drags you behind one of the big buses. Clenching his jaw, he pushes you against the side of it and moves his face closer to yours. "How about I just treat you like the fuckin' whore you are?" He suggests with a growl.

You whimper at his words, bucking your hips up in an attempt to feel his crotch rub against yours.

Tutting, he shakes his head. "Look at you," He mumbles softly. "So desperate for an old man's attention, hmm?"

"Please," You whine lowly.

"Please what, little girl?" He questions you with a smug look.

"Please, use me," You whisper. "I'm worthless unless I have your cock in one of my holes."

His eyes light up as he smirks. "Such a well-trained whore," He mutters, mostly to himself. "You crave my approval, don't you?"

"Yes," You mewl, clinging onto him. "Please, Sir."

"Someone messed you up real bad, hmm?" He asks. "And now all you wanna do is make daddy proud?"

Your heart skips a beat. "Yes, please."

"You dumb little girl," He coos teasingly, stroking your cheek. "Don't you fret. Daddy's gonna give you plenty of opportunity to make him proud, alright?"

"Thank you, daddy," You say, looking up at him with wide eyes.

Looking you up and down, he licks his lips. "Get on your knees."

You obey him, wincing as the hard gravel presses into your knees.

"Aw," He says with a pout. "Does it hurt, baby?"

Nodding silently, you lift your knee up slightly to relieve it of the pressure.

The kindness disappears completely from his face, and it's as though he's become a different person. "Open your fucking mouth, slut," He orders gruffly. "I don't care if your knees bleed. Be of some use and suck my cock."

"Yes, Sir," You reply. The next few moments pass by in a blur and then his dick is halfway down your throat. Your mind is free of thought and all you can focus on is the darkening blue of his eyes which are staring down at you. His hands grab fistfuls of your hair and he uses the makeshift pigtails as handles to assist him in fucking your face.

"Fuck, just like that," He groans, watching his cock disappear and reappear in and out of your mouth. "Taking it like the good little slut I knew you'd be."

You swirl your tongue around his shaft, eager to bring him pleasure. He pulls harder on your hair, making tears spring into your eyes and shots of electric pleasure course through your body.

"Look at how much prettier you are with your mouth stuffed," He coos, stroking away a stray tear from your cheek. "I bet your pussy will be even prettier once I stuff her."

Your eyes roll back and you moan around his cock, squeezing your legs together in a desperate attempt to feel some friction. Mr. Rogers notices, and the sight makes him smirk.

"Are you getting wet for me, baby?" He asks you teasingly. "Sucking cock makes you horny, doesn't it?"

You nod as best you can, keeping your eyes on his.

"Can you feel yourself getting wet?" He questions with a sly grin as he continues fucking your throat. "That pussy's begging for daddy's cock, isn't she?"

"Mmm," Is all you can respond with, making him groan at the vibrations you send through his dick.

"Fuck," He hisses under his breath. Just as his cock twitches against your tongue, he quickly pulls out of your mouth, wanting to save himself for your cunt. With no gentleness, he grabs your arm and pulls you back up to your feet. Then, he places his hands under each of your thighs before lifting you up and pushing you back against the bus.

"Daddy," You mumble weakly, taken aback by his dominance. It's been a while since you've had good sex, and you most definitely weren't expecting to get it today, or from Jamie's dad.

"Already brain-dead and I haven't even stretched that pussy out, yet," Mr. Rogers mumbles mostly to himself. He pulls up your tennis skirt and clenches his jaw when he sees the black, Spandex shorts you're wearing underneath. "Fuck's sake." Without warning, he puts you back down on the ground before turning you around and pressing your face to the bus. "It's your own fault I have to take you like this, so no complaining about me fucking you too deep. Got it?"

"Yes, Sir," You whimper, heart racing at the thought of it. You could barely take his entire length into your mouth, and so you're more than thrilled to know he's about to drill it into you.

Your shorts are roughly pulled down, taking your panties with them and leaving you bare. They're tight around your knees, but you have no time to complain as Mr. Rogers is already sinking into your soaking pussy. Once he's a few inches deep, he wraps one hand around your throat and grips your waist with the other, keeping you firmly in place.

"Don't be afraid to be loud," He whispers slyly in your ear. "Nobody will hear you."

With that, he slams the rest of his cock into you, and you immediately let out a cry. He doesn't give you time to adjust and begins fucking you hard and fast, brushing against your cervix with every thrust. Your eyelids drop and you can't hear anything outside of his groans and your bodies slapping together, your vision blurring.

"Don't you dare pass out on me," He grumbles, bringing his hand to your cheek and slapping it, pulling you out of your head. "C'mon. I wanna hear you, slut."

"Feels so good, Mr. Rogers," You whine as he kisses your jaw.

"Mmm, that's a good girl," He moans lowly, slapping your ass. "Such a good girl, knowing exactly what you're made for. Made for taking cock."

"Yes, Sir," You respond, shivering when his teeth sink into your neck.

"Your pussy is golden," He growls, pounding into your faster. "You're gonna milk me fuckin' dry."

"Please, daddy, cum inside me," You beg him, feeling your end approach.

"Not until you cum for me, baby," He says, tightening his grip on your throat. "Rub that clit. Show me how you play with yourself when you think about older men like me railing you, like the horny little slut you are."

You're convinced that his words alone could bring you to orgasm, every sentence setting you off and flooding you with pleasure. As he ordered, you bring a hand down to your clit and begin rubbing it in fast circles, desperate to cum. Mr. Rogers looks down over your shoulder, groaning as he watches you touch yourself.

"Ah, fuck," He grunts. "Gonna make me cum so hard, baby, don't stop."

"Daddy," You whine, throwing your head back as your stomach flips. "I'm gonna- daddy, cumming!"

He thrusts harder when he feels you gushing, tightening around his cock. Unable to hold back, he lets go and cums deep inside you, letting out a guttural groan. Falling forward with his face in your neck, he thrusts a few more times, giving you every drop of his seed.

You're breathing heavily, still feeling aftershocks while you come down from your high. At some point, you feel him pull out, and immediately you realize how sore you are. Mr. Rogers helps pull your panties and shorts back up, but that's the extent of his kindness as he steps back, leaving you there to recover against the side of the bus.

After a few moments, the sound of a lighter brings you back to reality and you turn around to see him smoking against the fence. Finding your footing, you slowly walk over to him, take the cigarette from his mouth, and take a long drag. He watches as you slowly blow out the smoke, and the two of you continue sharing it in silence.

The crowd eventually bursts into loud cheers and you can tell that the game is over. Leaving Mr. Rogers behind, you make your way back to the field, hoping there aren't any visible marks on your body from the sinful act you just committed.

Jamie and her teammates are making their way to the changing rooms when you stop her in her tracks to give her a smile. "You played amazingly, Jamie," You tell her warmly, earning yourself a confused glare.

"That was a great game, sweetheart," A deep voice adds from behind you, sending a shiver down your spine.

"We lost, Dad," She points out bitterly.

"You still played really well!" You insist with a grin, in a largely better mood than before.

Mr. Rogers steps forward so he's standing next to you and he places a hand on your lower back, making your stomach flutter. "How about I take you and your friend out for a nice meal?" He asks Jamie, whose face contorts at the suggestion.

"Ew, she's not my friend," She tells him with a scoff.

"That's okay, Mr. Rogers, but thank you so much," You say politely, smiling up at him. "I hope to see you at the next game."

Jamie grimaces at your words, rolling her eyes and turning away.

Mr. Rogers shoots you a wink while patting your ass. "I wouldn't miss it for the world."

i no longer have a taglist, follow @kinanabinksupdates and turn on notifs 💞

Part Two >

steve masterlist

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