Peeping Neighbor | J.M.

The Royal Treatment

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x f!reader

Summary: Reluctant to join the festivities at May’s birthday party, things start looking up for Miguel when he’s able to get the Princess Peter hired alone in the bathroom.

Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, 18+ ONLY, teasing, begging, oral (f receiving),fingering, unprotected p in v, pet names ( princess, your highness), fingering,  praise, dirty talk, choking, handjob, cum swallowing. Reader is referred to as small/ short in comparison to Miguel and he’s able to pick reader up, but in my head everyone is small in comparison to him so it isn’t necessarily a defining characteristic of reader.

W/C: 3.7k

A/N: First Miguel fic yayy. This has been in my drafts for forever and I finally got the motivation to flesh it out. I had a lot of fun with it.  Enjoy :)

Miguel was being his normal grumpy self, standing in the corner of the party while everyone socializes loudly around him. He quickly relocates to the backyard where he can at least get some fresh air and a little space. But all too soon everyone is making their way to the yard as well for the upcoming attraction that, unbeknownst to Miguel, would quickly pull him out of his funk.

It’s May's birthday and while Miguel adores her, the snotty kids and loud parents crowding around him make him wish he was anywhere else. Despite his natural instincts to flee, he decides to stay. He’d really love to see the look on May’s face when she opens his gift.

While he's silently cursing the obnoxious children running past, you float into the backyard, and he’s glad he held out. And you truly did float. The shiny tiara and beautiful gown almost made him believe you were actual royalty. He's so entranced he doesn't even notice the screeching children as they flock around you, oohing and aahing at your costume. May is the first to reach you and you curtsey to her, making her giggle.

The first time you speak, his breath catches in his throat. Your voice has this beautiful sing-songy tone. It's enchanting, capturing the attention of not only the kids but the adults as well. Your gentle manner and honeyed tone hypnotize Miguel and he can’t look away. You’re clearly dedicated to your craft, carrying yourself with a level of grace befitting a real princess. The kids love it, but Miguel is the most enthralled; his eyes never leave you. If you weren’t so preoccupied with the other guests, you surely would notice him staring you down.

He roams the perimeter of the group for the duration of your 'act', planning to just admire you from afar. But when his eyes finally meet yours when you head inside with Peter to grab a well-earned drink and your check, he hastily follows. He doesn’t really have a plan he just know he needs to at least speak with you.

You’re standing in the kitchen sipping your water as Peter is telling you how satisfied he is with your service. He says he needs to get back to his daughter and Miguel conveniently swoops in and offers to show you out. Peter thanks him and retreats back to the yard.

“That’s a beautiful costume” Miguel comments, hungrily eyeing your body under the guise of simply admiring your attire. You reply with a quick, 'thank you' and he expected you to drop the princess act but your voice still holds that dulcet tone that has his pants tightening. It’s not as exaggerated, seeing as you’re not trying to fool any children, but just as tantalizing.

Unbeknownst to Miguel, you had felt his eyes on you earlier but did everything you could to keep your focus on the other guests. You take your job very seriously, but his intense gaze made it difficult. So, when you were escorted inside you had to gulp down your water and try to regain your bearings.

When you first spotted him, his tall imposing frame had you a bit intimidated, yet had your mind reeling with thoughts of what he could do to you. He can make anyone feel small and you are no exception. Your mind quickly conjured up the thought of him having you caged in against your bed, pressing you firmly to the mattress as he thrusts deep inside you. You had to shake yourself out of the fantasy quickly to turn your focus back to the crowd.

When he steps into the kitchen, you're on edge again, trying to push away the intrusive thoughts. You try your best not to just stand there, mouth agape and drooling at him, making it obvious you want him to defile you. You don't know what's gotten into you. It’s not that you never get these kinds of thoughts, but this level of intensity and depravity feels new.

He’s very intriguing, but you can’t find the courage to look him in the eyes. While he's scanning your frame, you take a deep breath and try to steady the quiver in your voice. “Um, I need to change. I've got kind of a far drive. Can you show me where the bathroom is?” you ask, impressed you formed a coherent sentence, even going so far as to finally meet his gaze. 

“Oh, yeah. Right this way.” he guides you up the stairs to the guest bathroom at the end of the hall.

 “I'll just wait out here. This house is a maze, I doubt you’d be able to find your way out.” he offers, hoping to spend just a little more time with you. It may be a little inappropriate but he might just ask for your number. You nod and slip into the bathroom. 

As you go to pull your clothes out of your bag, you’re hit with a sudden realization that has you stopping in your tracks. You had your roommate help you zip up your dress. How are you supposed to get out of it on your own? You frantically reach behind you to try to get a grasp on the zipper. You don't even get close. Left with only one option, you shuffle to the door, and are welcomed with a slightly confused look from the man in front of you. You clearly hadn’t changed yet and he looks at you, brow raised.

 “Um…can you…uh… undress me?” you sputter, realizing how that sounded, and frantically try to correct yourself.

“I mean unzip! I…I can’t reach the zipper, can you help? Please?” a small smile appears on his face at your flustered state.

“Of course, your highness.” He playfully bows to you, making you giggle. Still standing in the doorway, you turn around and he reaches for the zipper. He unzips it slowly and can’t help but drag the back of his finger along your skin on the way down. You let out a small gasp as you feel a tingle spread across your skin. He finishes, but doesn’t step back.

“It’s a shame, you really do look pretty in this dress. I’m sure you look even better with it off, but the whole princess thing really suits you.” he says lowly, and you feel his breath fan against your neck. 

 "Do you have anyone taking care of you like one?” his question flusters you so you simply shake your head.   

“No? Tsk, Tsk, Tsk. Why don’t you let me show you how a princess deserves to be treated. Hm?” the rasp in his voice has your thighs clenching together and without even thinking you squeak out, “Yes, please.”

 You mentally scold yourself for giving in to a complete stranger so quickly, but no part of you wants to turn down the offer. He's obviously delighted and you feel him smile against your skin as he places his lips on your shoulder. He surprises you when he zips your dress back up, seeing as you’re ready for him to tear it off you.

 He guides you back into the bathroom and shuts the door, making sure to lock it. Then, he pushes you gently against the counter, having you face the mirror, and proceeds to pull the sleeves down over your shoulders, planting kisses from one side to the other. 

"Aren’t you going to take it off?" you ask sounding slightly confused and then clamp your mouth shut, not wanting to sound impatient.

Miguel chuckles softly, enjoying your eagerness. "Next time." he replies. "You just look so delicious in this pretty little dress of yours."

 He sucks in a deep breath as he peers at your body in the mirror, taking in your silk clad form. Then he flicks his gaze to your parted lips. You're watching him with baited breath, anxiously waiting for his hands to finally start roaming your body. They currently sit firmly planted on your waist and he can tell you're wanting more. He can’t help but toy with you, though. There’s part of him that’s desperate to give you what he knows you want but there’s another part of him that wants to hear you ask or, preferably, beg for it. The latter part wins and his hand moves to grab the length of your dress, rubbing the fabric in between his fingers. You immediately miss the warmth of his hands, something you could feel even through the fabric of the dress.

“The whole time you were putting on your little show all I could think about was lifting up the back of this gown and getting a taste of what’s underneath.” he remarks. You noticeably shiver at the feeling of his lips moving against your ear as he speaks with a low, gravelly voice. Every time he talks you can feel the rumble in his chest, which is pressed firmly against your back. You can also feel his impressive length against your backside that has been rock hard the moment he pressed it against you. All of these things in combination with one another are overwhelming your senses and anticipation pulses through you. You need him. Now.

With desperation clear in your voice, you blurt out, “Please, touch me.”

He gazes at you with a dark look in his eyes and an amused expression on his face.

“I need more.” you add. Your eyes leave his in the mirror to turn over your shoulder and look at him directly. Instead of pressing his lips to yours like he’s so tempted to do, he lets you continue.

“You said you wanted a taste, didn’t you?” you tug on his wrist, urging him to move it lower. He decides he’s teased you long enough. He presses you harder into the counter before moving away and throwing up your dress, handing the fabric to you.

“Hold this for me, princess.” you grab at the fabric although your reaction was a little delayed as the pet name has pleasure shooting straight to your core.

He caresses softly up and down your thighs, and starts kneading your cheeks. The gentleness lasts only a few seconds and you let out a gasp as he rips your pantyhose. As he kneels behind you, he lets out an audible groan. You assume it’s because he spotted the wet patch on your underwear. It must be pretty prominent considering you’ve been dripping wet the moment you saw him. Before you know it, he rips those as well.

With your arousal now fully exposed you can feel his breath wafting over your wet sex, and you shiver at the sensation. He starts teasingly sucking at your folds one at a time, placing one soft kiss to your clit before dipping his tongue into your entrance. He eats you out like he's starving and your legs shake as his tongue dances against your walls.

After exploring your heat thoroughly, he runs his tongue from your entrance to your clit, back and forth, sucking on it gently each time he reaches it. As the rhythm gets faster and faster, so does your breathing. Your teeth clamp down on your bottom lip to try to stifle your moans, not wanting anyone to overhear. What would the parents say if the party princess was upstairs getting eaten out in a frenzy by a man she just met. You push those worries aside as the pleasure builds. You bring the fabric in your left hand and join it with the right, then reach back and grab onto his hair and start gently pushing his face further into you, urging him on.

He easily brings you to the edge with his movements but before you can reach your release, he pulls his face from you. You whine, but the disappointment quickly fades as your excitement over the prospect of him being inside of you grows. Once he's upright, you attempt to face him, wanting to go down on him too. He senses your intentions but holds you in place against the counter.

 “I’m meant to kneel to the princess, not the other way around.” he playfully whispers in your ear. He appreciates your enthusiasm but he's fine saving that for another time. He's desperate to be inside you.

He bends you over and you place your hands against the counter to steady yourself. He pushes your knees apart and wedges himself between your thighs, pulling your hips back to meet his bulge and can’t help but rub himself against you. The fabric adds a wonderful friction and you mewl in response.

Reluctantly, he pulls away, then proceeds to run his fingers through your folds before dipping them into your entrance. You're soaking wet but he takes a few seconds to work you open. He knows how big he is and wants to make sure you're ready to take every inch of him.  When he knows you're ready, he pulls his fingers away and releases his aching erection from his pants. He immediately begins stroking up and don’t his shaft, coating himself in your arousal.

Blinded by your desperation for him, you hadn’t really thought about his size being a problem, until you feel him run his length through your folds. You can feel just how big he is and you take a deep breath to calm your nerves. He presses into you slowly, and the head of his dick already feels impossibly huge. But as he slides in, you stretch and melt around him. He lets out a throaty moan at the way your walls grip him.

You hiss at the intrusion, but the slight burn fades quickly as his shallow thrusts push deeper and deeper. As he gains more momentum, he's pushing your stomach against the counter and you feel yourself being pushed up onto your tippy toes. He notices and takes one of your legs and sets your knee up onto the counter and the other is left dangling as he supports your upper body. His strength to support all of you is impressive, but not surprising.

He sets one arm against your waist and tries grabbing at your chest with the other, but can’t get a good grip through your dress. So, he opts for your throat instead. His grip is loose, just to help stabilize you, but you hum in approval and you lean against him. You lift your head up to look at him through the mirror.

"Harder." you plead and grab his wrist, prompting him to tighten his grip. He growls at the pleading look in your eyes and desperate tone in your voice and squeezes firmly, adding a delicious pressure to the sides of your throat. You hear his deep breaths and grunts in your ear as he quickens his pace and the sounds stoke the warmth in your belly.

This new angle has him brushing up against that tender spot inside of you and you know if he keeps going like this you’re going to cum. He knows this too. He can tell just by the look on your face and feels you clench even harder around him when he brings his hand down to your slippery, throbbing nub and begins working it.

Your mouth falls open into a silent scream at the added stimulation and Miguel glances back up to take in the magnificent view in front of him. Your tiara is askew, slipping slightly off your head, and your lips are bitten from how you've been holding them between your teeth, trying to keep quiet.

“Look at you.” He says breathily, leaning down to kiss up the side of your neck.

“So pretty. Who’s my pretty princess?” he asks, his dark eyes meeting yours. You let out a pathetic whine and turn your head away. His words send a shiver up your spine, but are unable to hold his gaze, suddenly feeling bashful at the praise. He notices, but continues.

“Hm? Who’s my pretty princess?” his hand leaves your throat to grip your jaw, forcing you to look at him in the mirror. He slows his thrusts now to a maddeningly slow pace, awaiting your answer.

“I am.” you say, voice barely above a whisper. He caresses your jaw with his thumb, but continues looking at you expectantly. It takes you a second to figure out what he wants, but eventually the realization hits you. You take a deep breath, trying to steady your voice.

Now matching the intensity of his gaze, you reply “I'm your pretty princess.” His eyes flutter closed at your response. His hips stutter, then stop completely and he breaths in deeply, obviously trying to regain some composure.

Your lips curl up into a small smile at his reaction. His words have been flustering you since the moment he spoke. They've had you falling apart on his dick as he whispers filth into your ear while he takes you from behind. But now you get to see your words have the same effect on him, and a wave of confidence surges through you.

When he finally opens his eyes, he has this look in his eyes, like he wants to devour you, and it spurs you on.  You begin grinding yourself down onto him, fucking yourself back and forth on his dick as he stands behind you and he sees there's a playful smirk plastered on your face. A growl rumbles form his chest and he returns his hand to your throat.

 Momentarily overcome with the way your hips meet his and the drag of your wet, warm heat, his eyes fall closed again. He's tempted to let you continue, but the desire to see you cum, feel your walls spasm around him, has eyes snapping open. Without warning, he starts fucking you at the unrelenting pace he set earlier.

He knocks the smirk right off your face and you cry out as he pounds into you, his hand returning to your clit. Before you know it, you feel that familiar pressure building in your core, your breaths come in jagged gasps now, and he knows you're close.

 “I wanna feel it. Come on, give it to me.” he demands. He swipes faster at your clit you let out a squeak before you’re tumbling over the edge. Your body goes rigid against him as the waves of pleasure crash through you. You try to cover your mouth in an attempt to dampen the embarrassingly loud moans he’s pulling from you, but he pushes your hand away, wanting to hear every sound that falls from your lips.

As the aftershocks rip through you, his fingers leave your clit to grip the counter. He feels you pulsating and squeezing around him and it’s drawing him closer to his own release. His brows furrow and he's panting in your ear. You're a bit dazed from your climax, but you see the look on his face and the boldness from earlier takes over.

Before you can stop yourself, you pull his face to yours and tease, “Is princess gonna make you come?”

The noise that pulls from him is one that Miguel's never heard himself make, a mixture between a whine and a groan. His hips stutter and you hear him babble, “pretty pretty pretty” as he kisses the side of your face, down your neck.

A few moments later he’s pulling out and preparing to cum over your ass; before he can you're spinning around and falling to your knees. You don't know what's gotten into you, but you’ll attribute your brazenness to the praise he was just singing to you in combination with your post orgasm haze. You're looking up at him through your lashes and you grab him at the base, giving his dick quick, wet strokes.

You look up at him and his eyes are on you, enjoying the view from above. His lips part and he sucks in shallow breaths at the way you're cradling his balls while your arousal allows your hand to glide up and down his shaft with ease.

You smile up at him and purr, “Make me prettier.” You lean your head back, closing your eyes and sticking out your tongue, ready to feel his warmth spread across your skin.

"Oh fuck." he moans, feeling his balls tighten in response.

His body tenses, blood pumping hot, and with a deep groan erupting from his chest, he spurts his seed over you. You hum as you swallow and the tangy taste goes down surprisingly smooth. He looks down at you, admiring the way your tongue swipes the corners of your mouth, not letting one drop go to waste.

When he recovers, he wets the hand towel and cleans off the rest from your face. His movements are gentle, contrasting his previous actions, and he smiles sweetly down at you.

"All clean, your highness." he says softly. He sticks out his hand and helps you to your feet.

“I guess I better actually help you out of this, now.” he chuckles and unzips the dress, resisting the urge to pull it off you and drag you to one of the bedrooms for round two. But he needs to get back to the party before someone comes looking.

"Thank you.” you say over your shoulder and subconsciously lean into him. He kisses you quickly, yet deeply, before excusing himself to the hall to let you get dressed.

As he walks you out, you exchange numbers. When you finally reach the door, he finds himself struggling to pull his hand from the small of your back, not wanting to see you go.

“Thanks for all your help.” you say with a wink. You stand up on your toes and pull down to you for one last kiss. Before you pull away, he feels you slip something into his pocket. As you make your way back to your car, he slips his hand into his pocket, chuckling and shaking his head as his fingers feel the familiar lace material of your underwear that he ripped off you earlier. As he thumbs the fabric, he's already thinking about getting to pull them off you again.

inspired by boop day, reblog this post if its ok for people to send you random asks and interact on your posts with no judgement. i want to talk to people.

Mirror, Mirror, On The Wall...

Jake Lockley X Reader X Marc Spector

Summary: Jake wants to try something new...

Moon Knight Masterlist

A/N: I've had this idea in my head for like a month now after I saw an imagine suggesting the moon boys might do this... If anyone remembers who beautifully dirty idea this was, please tell me so I can credit them!! Also IDK what took over me with THAT scene with Jake... you'll see what I mean... I just think he'd look really pretty like this.

WARNINGS: fingering, mirror sex, voyerism (kinda?), sex toys, face fucking, throat bulge, choking, dirty talk, degradation, praise

ALSO! I was supossed to write a new chapter for Leather and Lace tonight but I wrote this instead. If you've been waiting on a chapter, blame @my-secret-shame and @welcometostayingawake for telling me to write this sin.

***********

“Feel so good baby, been thinkin ‘bout your tits all day.” Jake had pinned you against the living room door, his mouth all over every inch of exposed skin as he tugged at your clothes to reveal more. “Couldn’t wait to get my fucking hands on you.” He harshly gripped both your breasts in his hand, making you cry out for him.

“Fuck, J-Jake!” You put your hands over his dark jeans, gripping his ass in your hands. “Fuck, do you got all the fucking ass for?” You tease, nipping at his neck.

“Mmhm jorder” Jake growls, biting your shoulder. “All yours, baby, all yours” He presses his hips into yours, and you can feel his hard cock ready for you.

You take his hand, shoving in between your legs. “Touch me.” You command. Sex with Jake was a careful power balance. It wasn’t a fight for control; Jake had the control, you both knew that, but Jake wanted you to take what you wanted from him. Steven liked to take control, Marc liked to surrender to you, and Jake? Jake liked sex to be something akin to a dance. A dance where he was the leader, but a dance nonetheless.

Jake was happy to oblige. He moved his hand on you as you fucked his hand. “That’s right, Carino, take what you need” His other hand found your hair, entangling his fingers in your locks before capturing your mouth roughly in his. Your mouth opened to take his tongue as he licked into you, his desire evident. “I had an idea… I wanted to try something, mi vida” he kissed under your pulsepoint. “Do you trust me, amor?”

The idea of something new sends shivers down your body. With no hesitation, you nod. “Always, amor”

His smile was nothing but love. “Vamnos, bonita” He removed his hand from your cunt, smirking when you whined. “Paciencia” He teased, taking your hand and leading you into the bedroom. He closed the door behind you, which you thought was odd, seeing as you were the only people that lived there. With one more kiss on your lips, he roughly turned your around, and you saw why he closed the door. 

With your back to his chest, he wrapped one strong arm around your waist, gluing you to him, his other hand wrapped around your neck, forcing you to look at the two of you in the reflection. You watched yourself writhe against him, desperate for more of his touch. Jake pressed tender kisses into your neck, eyes connecting with yours through the mirror. “Marc is here” He whispers.

A slight moan escapes your mouth. You knew they watched each other, but it had never been this blatant.

“You like that?” Jake taunts, the hand around your waist slips under your pants and underwear. “Oh fuck, yeah you like that, you’re fucking soaked.” Jake pulled your pants and underwear down, helping you finish taking them off and pulling your shirt over your head. You were completely naked in front of him, and Marc.

Jake looked in the mirror, seeing Marc grinning, palming himself through his pants. ‘Smack her tits Jake, I like to see them bounce.’ Jake nodded, giving them each a slap. “That was from Marc.”

You turn to give Jake an open mouth kiss, then back to the mirror. “Do you like what you see Marc?” You run your hands down your body, feeling your curves.

“He does” Jake kissed between your shoulder blades, massaging your click as your wetness dripped down your legs.

“Jake, please, need you in me…”

“Ask and you shall receive, corazon…” His hand tightening around your throat as he plunged his fingers into you. “Mirror mirror on the wall…” Jake gently bit down on your neck, making your body jolt and reach a hand up to touch his hair. He repeatedly kissed and licked over the bitemark. “Who's the fairest of them all…” His eyes raked over your body through the mirror.

You move your hands to his dark jeans behind you unbuttoning his pants. “You” You tease.

His pants and boxers dropped to the ground and he picked up pace on your pussy, the wet sounds filling the room. ‘Put her on her knees’ Marc requested. Before Jake did as Marc asked, he wanted to make you come. He removed his hand from your throat, spanking you before working your tits. Jakes pinched your tender nipples. “Doing so good baby, putting on a good show for Marc. We want to hear you, yeah? Let him hear you.”

Letting yourself go you loudly cry out both of their names. You reveled in the feeling of his hands on your body, you wrap an arm around him, gripping his ass tightly as you neared your peak. “Jake, another finger, please…” You whine.

“Think you can take it, carino?”

You nod, frantic “Please, I’ll be a good girl, I can take it! I need it!”

Jake slipped a third finger inside you, circling his thumb around your clit. “Can you come for me baby? Don’t hold back, don’t hide those pretty little sounds…”

Shouting, your ogasm wracked through your body loudly, legs shaky as Jake kissed you through it, assuring you he had you as he held you up. “I got you baby, let it out, I got you” You felt his cock twitching behind your ass, impatient. 

As you came down from your high, Jake took a fistful of hair, pulling you down on the floor with him. Your legs were wobbly, so it didn’t take much. He yanked your face to his in a bruising kiss. When he pulled away, he gripped your face with a force. “You going to be good for us? Let us share you? Gonna be a good slut and take both of us?”

You looked at him, confused, but you nodded, moaning. You’ll do anything for him, you’ll do anything to be their good girl.

“Open your mouth, perra.”

You did as you were told, sticking your tongue out. He spat into your mouth, then slapped you, prompting you to swallow.

Jake let go of his grip, stroking your hair “Good girl, pretty girl… you’re going to show Marc how well you listen? I know Marc likes you to take control, but I think we should show him how good you look following orders, don’t you?”

You nod, spitting into your hand before wrapping it around his cock. “Yes daddy, I want to show Marc, I want him to watch you fuck me”

“Hm, hermosa…” Jake buckled his hips up into your hand. “Fuck, I’m not gonna last like this.” He grabbed your hand, stopping your movement. He grabbed a box that was by the door. Your eyes widened when he pulled out a dildo. “See, bebita, Marc doesn’t just want to watch…”

You gulp, but you look at his/Marc eyes in the mirror. They are asking for permission. You nod, smiling. “I want both of you” The idea of two of them or all three of them taking you had long been a fantasy of yours, something you had never shared with them. But as always, it seemed they knew your mind better than anyone. 

“Bien, mi vida” He kissed you softly. “Keep stroking my cock, I want to get your mouth ready.” 

You went back to moving your hand on him, stroking his extensive length that your hand didn’t even fit around. The mirror to your side, Jake slowly put the brand-new dildo into your mouth. It wasn’t as big as Jake, it wasn’t too much to handle, but enough to make you gag a bit at the initial contact. Slowly, in, out until it fully entered your mouth. You heave a bit, giving a fresh coat of spit around the plastic. Jake pulled it out, a string of spit connecting to your mouth as you caught your breath.

“Joder, mami” Jake grunted, thrusting into your hand. He yanked you back by your hair, placing the dildo back in your mouth. One hand moved the dildo, fucking your throat, his other hand returned to your neck, feeling the dildo inside your throat. “Fuck, you look so good like this”

You tried to concentrate on your breathing through your nose, but the ache between your legs was back, with your free hand you touch yourself.

Jake’s eyes were all over your body, mouth agape in wonder. “God, just the sight of you…” He muttered. Something drew his attention to the mirror and yanked your face to the mirror “Look at Marc, baby” You did as you were told, partial vision of you touching yourself and him in the reflection. “Look at her, hermano” Jake spoke to Marc. “So pretty, so talented, and all ours…” ‘All ours…’ Marc repeated, jacking himself off in the mirror. He slapped your ass hard once, twice, thrice, your body jolting with each hit. You were sure there’d be a bruise tomorrow. Your body felt like it was on fire.

Jake took the dildo out when he saw you struggling to breathe. He stuck it to the mirror, right in line with his pelvis. He kissed your drool covered mouth. “This still okay, hermosa?” Jake asked, eyes soft, letting you know it was okay to back out. There was no way in hell you wanted to stop. He wraps his hands around you as the two of you knelt on the floor, his touch, tender.

“Want to be your good girl…” You were getting close again, brain in a haze.

“Look at me” He held your face in his hand gently “You’ll always be our good girl, even if you change your mind.”

You give him a quick kiss, smiling at him “I want this”

He grinned back at you. “Oh fuck yeah.” He straightened up, slapping you harshly across the face before putting his fingers in your wet cunt “Open” When you opened your mouth, he spit into your mouth, and again. He shoved two fingers in your mouth, you closed around him to suck him clean. “I think Marc is about to burst, baby, let's show him what you got.” 

You scramble to turn around. Jake’s favorite way to take you was on your hand and knees, you assumed this is how he’d want you. Jake stopped you. “Marc and I thought we’d do it the other way, we don’t want to hurt your throat if I get too rough, make sure you can beath” He coaxed you to turn around. It touched you that they had talked about this, taking your comfort and safety into such consideration. As touched as you were, what Jake did next promptly broke your thoughts. He took the dildo off the mirror, and put it in his mouth. The sight of his mouth, his beautiful, lush lips taking the dildo down his throat…. Should not have turned you on as much as it did. Tentatively, you place your hand over his, controlling the pace in which you fucked his mouth.

This better not awaken anything in me… You think. You realized why he said you looked so pretty with your lips around his cock… you could say the same about him… You see a gleam in his eyes as his throat gagged around the dildo. “Fuck, take it pretty boy, fucking take it.” You mutter, entranced in him. You move your head around him a bit, scanning his features, taking in his face. Incredible. He was built like a god, his face surely sculpted by them, and here he was… Letting you fuck his mouth with a dildo. You watched the spit spill out of his mouth. “All a mess for me…” You spoke softly, tenderly, putting a hand on his cheek. Withdrawing the dildo a bit to allow him to breathe, you angle it to poke through his cheek, feeling it in his mouth. How beautiful eyes never left yours even as you focused on the bulge in his cheeks. Jake was rarely submissive, but the look of aw on your face made him want to try this more…

When you pulled the plastic dick out of his mouth with a ‘pop’, he attached it back to the mirror. “Nice and wet for you, baby.” 

He kisses you, hands on your face pulling you down on your knees. “Take Marc first, mi amor, I want to watch your face…”

Never breaking eye contact, your back up. The dildo was wet with Jake’s spit and you and Jake had thoroughly worked you open, it slid in easier. “Uuugghh, M-Marc… Marc, baby”

‘Fuck, what a sight… so good’ Marc mumbled, stroking himself to the rhythm you worked yourself on the dildo. “Marc says you feel fucking amazing, you ready for me? You want both of us in you, baby?” Jake gently stroked your face with the back of his hand, his cock so fucking close to you.

You move forward, licking him before moving back down on Marc. “Please Jake, need both of you, need you two to fill me up, please? Love you both so much.”

“Oh, mi vida, we love you too, but I’m about to fuck you like I hate you” He kissed your forhead. “Tap my leg if it’s too much” Then he shoved his cock deep inside you, hitting your throat. Immediately you gag, but the pressure of his thrust pushed you back onto Marc, hitting deep inside.

Jake seemed to hesitate at this, but you reach up and grab his absolute cake of an ass, forcing yourself to take him deeper. He took that as a cue to keep going. He thrust into your mouth, listening to you gag, the wet sounds of your mouth and soaked cunt. He could see your pretty pussy glistening through the mirror. Jake looked up to see Marc watching you take him.

 “Isn’t she something, Marc?”

‘Fucking beautiful’

“So good for us, taking our cock like a champ” Hishands found your hair, moving your mouth off his briefly to allow a breath. “I know it’s not easy, doing so good.”

“Anything for you baby” You gasp out. 

He thrust back into your mouth “I know baby, you’d do anything for us, wouldn’t you?” He picked up his pace, the hot coil within you straightening as you fucked yourself on the mirror, hoping to god Marc liked what he saw

He did. He really, really did. He was hanging on by a thread as it is.

“You’d take all three of us if you could, wouldn’t you? You are our little whore, our little slut to just get passed around between us huh?” He thrust deep, hitting your throat with each question “Our little fuck toy? Our Muñecita? Our little fuck doll?” Jake’s pace was faltering. “Fuck, touch yourself muñecita, I’m close, I want you to come on Marc’s cock when I come in your mouth, okay?”

Mouth stuffed full of him, you could only mutter out a muffled “okay” You prop yourself up on your stronger, dominant arm, thankful for not skipping arm day. You reach down, finding your cunt absolutely drenched. You moan onto his cock

“Fuck, you sound good like that, your mouth stuff with our fat fucking cock, muffled by my dick down your throat. Don’t you think so Marc?” Jake looked at his brother fucking his girls pussy, pleasuing her.

‘Fuck, think she should be like this all the time, a pretty little toy for use to use, just existing for us to stick our cock everywhere we can’

“Fuck baby, I’m-” Jake tried to warn you, but he came inside your mouth as he continued to fuck into you. You came on cue, juices covering Marc as he came in the reflection. Your vision fades out from your eyes, your arms give out under the weight of your orgasm, falling to the floor as you detached from the dildo. Jake tried to catch you, but was only able to stop your head from hitting the floor. “Fuck! Carino, I’m sorry-” But you interrupted his apologies by laughing.

“Baby, don’t apologize, I’ve never passed out from an orgasm before” You try to catch your breath, lying face up on the floor. 

Jake laid down next to you, panting, taking your hand. “How was that for you? Because for Marc and I…” Jake whistled.

You laugh. “Amazing baby, it was amazing. Wish we could get Steven involved somehow, but I think that’s a bit out of our logistics.”

“Probably” He leaned over to kiss you, tenderly sucking on your lips. “C’mon, let's get you cleaned up.” Jake stood up carrying you over to the bed. He went to the bathroom, coming back with a warm wash clothes and cool washcloth. First he lit your favorite candle and put on your playlist of calming music. Shelter from the Storm by Bob Dylan came on. With the warm wash cloth, he cleaned off your chest and between your legs. With the cool one, he gently patted down your forehead, temples and mouth. Jake took out chapstick and applied it to your chapped lips, then kissed you. “Beautiful girl…” he muttered and climbed into bed. He began to wrap you up in his arms, but you stopped him.

“Can I hold you?” You ask.

Jake was surprised. You would be the big spoon for Steven and Marc, but it was generally understood he would hold you. But today was a day for firsts. “Yeah, hermosa.”

He lays down, his back to your chest as you wrap your arms around his wide body. Jake was stiff at first. “Relax, baby. I got you, you’re safe with me…” you whisper to him. You play with Jake’s curls, and he melts into your arms. “How is Marc.”

Jake intertwined his fingers in the hand you had on his chest. You were so sweet, so caring. Despite the things he had said, the things they had done to you, you still wanted to care for them. This is one of the many, many reasons he loved you. He could be himself with you, yes, but he could also trust Marc and Steven with you. Their body, their hearts, they were safe with you. He was safe with you. 

It was like a dance. A dance where he leads, but a dance nonetheless.

**********

Thanks for reading!!!! reblogs help a lot, comments mean the world!

IDK what made me make this so soft at the end, but i've been in a soft!jake mood.

tagging @ahookedheroespureheart @jake-g-lockley and @bit-dodgy-innit bc i thought you might like this nonsense.

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

buy me a kofi <3

Blorbo thought of the day #1

More: Steven Grant x GN! reader

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

Who better to start with than Steven?

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

NSFW/18+ Minors interacting will be blocked.

Steven Grant is a gentle lover.

Until he isn’t.

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

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

Tonight is no exception.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What were the words he’d heard?

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

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

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

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

It takes you a little by surprise.

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

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

To soothe you. To do something.

But he… doesn’t.

Because…. Fuck.

He liked it.

A lot.

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

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

Except this time Steven is inwardly going feral.

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

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

Oh God.

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

Needs more and he’s aching for it.

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

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

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

He releases a shaky breath.

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

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

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

Steven can’t take it.

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

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

“Was that good, baby?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hand Covers Mouth

Kink: sex pollen/aphrodisiac

About this: Takes place during canon events, Steven/fem!reader, Marc/fem!reader.

*

Let’s split up, Layla had said. She tacked on a hurried, ‘You with Steven? Be careful!’ before nearly sprinting off down a tunnel, leaving you (her scowling friend) and Steven (a mesmerized puppy) alone in a sandy tomb.

Look, you understood it was complex. Steven shared a body with her (soon to be? Possibly?) ex-husband, after all; but in your mind, that gave her even more of a reason to be the one responsible for him. Absently, your hand reaches down to lay your palm on the holster where your gun rests. You have no doubt that Harrow’s minions would kill without qualm. While you would not find it so easy to digest, you would do whatever you had to, to keep yourself safe.

To keep Steven safe. No matter what—

“What are you doing?” you ask at a frantic whisper. Steven is barely visible in the darkness where he is brushing sand and dust, centuries of time away from the hieroglyphics on the wall.

He glances back over his shoulder at you, giving you his typical expression of an adorable animal who fears they are about to be on the receiving end of a harsh kick in the rump, but who is so thrilled by their own discovery that they hardly care. He points to the wall.

“Reading these hieroglyphics,” says Steven. “Think they might be important.”

You glance toward the wall. You are not like Steven or Layla, able to read the symbols. You did not have the same practical and personal education which they had so tediously earned for themselves over the years. At the base of the wall sits a gilded table, the bottom of each leg morphing into the paw of some great cat. Some of the items around it are unrecognizable, turned to rubble, after so many years. But resting on top of it, there are a set of neat little figurines inlaid with moldavite, glittering black in the darkness.

“You don’t think—the ushabti?”

“Not likely,” Steven admits with a frown. “But some of the wall has crumbled here, can’t make out the rest, can I? It does say that this is powerful. Maybe we should take these to Layla and have her look at them.”

You fight the urge to scowl again. Layla. Steven was always trailing after Layla…

Alright, perhaps you had another reason for being so sour at Steven’s mention of your closest friend. How could you help being enamored with him, with his big brown eyes, with his undying enthusiasm, with his gentle heart and scathing wit? But Steven didn’t look at you like that. He was always too busy looking at Layla.

When you look at him, the expression of hope on his face is painful. You do your best to bite back any sarcastic or caustic replies. He truly doesn’t deserve them. It isn’t his fault he doesn’t reciprocate your feelings.

“We don’t have time to hunt down Layla with every artifact we find,” you remind him gently. “And we don’t have time to search every little artifact for significance, either.”

He leans against the wall, like some suave Don Juan from a movie.

“Life’s about stopping to smell the roses, love, or stopping to find the roses if no roses immediately present—oh—oh bugger.” Steven slips, more of the wall crumbling away beneath the weight of his elbow. He stumbles into the little golden table—and off go all three of the little figurines, smashing into brittle pieces on the stone floor, the sound deafening in the silence around you.

“Oh my gods,” Steven says, both hands coming up to clutch at his curls. “Oh no, I deserve prison. Oh look what I’ve done—these were thousands of years old and I just destroyed them—”

“Steven—” Your words die in your throat. Your heart begins to race, breathing becoming fast and shallow. He looks up at you from where he has knelt on the floor in anxious guilt over the figurines, and you see something in his eyes which you can’t identify. Something sharp. Something hungry.

Then he blinks.

In the distance, you hear the sound of voices calling, none of them the familiar timber of Layla. He reaches out with the reflexes of a snake and grabs you around the waist, dragging you down to his position. One hand—warm, tasting faintly of sweat and sand—clamps over your mouth as he drags you back against his body, making both of your positions smaller as you hide behind a pillar.

Against your back, he is hard.

“Quit it,” he hisses lowly in your ear, and that’s when you realize that it isn’t Steven at all. That posh British accent has dissolved into something relaxed and loose, a Chicagoan accent that you’ve never heard before but would recognize anywhere. Marc. His words register secondarily, and you realize that you are writhing against him, literally arching your back to try to rub your aching cunt against the hard line of his cock.

A whine slips past his hand, and he lets out an angry, shaking breath against the crook of your neck. His free hand reaches around and slips right down the front of your pants. By the time he is cupping your sex with his broad palm, you are soaking wet, aching, already working towards that blissful crest even with the only stimulation being in your own mind.

“It must have been an aphrodisiac,” Marc whispers, barely audible over the raging pulse in your ears. “If I give you some fingers, can you be quiet until they’re gone?”

You nod, exaggeratedly. Truthfully, you aren’t sure. You just know that you would say anything, agree to anything to have any one of his fingers inside you.

He gives you two. You cum straight away, eyes rolling back, pussy clenching around his digits tightly. Marc gives a choked breath at the sensation of your walls squeezing and squeezing his fingers. His hips work once, twice, three times against the curve of your ass and then he stiffens himself, a breathless, nearly inaudible sound of pleasure passing through his lips.

The sweetest fucking sound you’ve ever heard.

The voices in the distance begin to fade away—the sweetest silence.

Then you have a mouthful of sand, Marc’s hand between your shoulder blades pinning you into the ground. You hear the clinking of his belt as he frantically tries to loosen it, and you wiggle your hands beneath you looking for the fasten of your own pants.

“Didn’t want it to go like this,” he says through clenched teeth. You can’t even imagine his expression: something hard and desperate. You wonder if he took over for Steven forcefully or if Steven retreated, anxious at the potent desire that the aphrodisiac evoked in him. “Didn’t want our first time to be like this—”

“Is he okay?” you whisper, working your pants and underwear down at once, arching your back for him. He still has on his boxers, but he’s grown desperate: hands gripping your hips, thighs snapping against the back of your own as he simulates sex with you. Marc makes a perplexed sound. Fuck, his cock feels good, even covered by soft cotton that you’re drenching with your own slick. You struggle for a moment to remember your question. “Steven—is he okay?”

“Steven is—fucking great,” Marc says, laughing a little derisively. “Trust me. Steven’s been wanting to fuck you since the moment he saw you. There’s a little place in my head where’s he’s beating off furiously, I’m sure—”

“You’re such a dick,” you gasp.

“I’ll show you dick, gonna give you mine,” he mutters through his teeth, finally working down his boxers. “Gonna fuck that girlish expression you give Steven all the time right off your face, gonna make it so every time you look at him, you’re thinking about how good my cock fills you.”

“His cock,” you breathe, arching your back more, fingers curling in the sand and scratching the stone beneath. “His cock too.”

“Yeah yeah,” says Marc testily, finally resting the head of his cock at your entrance. He slips in with one devastating, life-changing thrust. “We’ll test that theory when I let him out for his turn.”

Yes, Mr Miller

Pairing: dbf!Joel x babysitter!Reader

Summary: "You yourself wouldn’t consider Joel a friend, he was more so an acquaintance who paid you to hang around the house with his kid. A very handsome acquaintance."

Warnings: SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI), age gap (reader is 20-22 age range, Joel is mid 50s), dom/sub dynamics (dom!Joel x sub!Reader), verges on exhibitionism but isn't quite, fingering, cum play, degradation, praise, Joel has an absolutely filthy fucking mouth, no outbreak, Sarah is like 9, if I missed anything please let me know!

If you had to choose one word to describe Sarah Miller, it would be “firecracker." Not only was she the most energetic child you had ever met, but there were days you genuinely couldn’t keep up with her antics; she ran circles around you, bouncing excitedly before jumping into the pool and demanding you race her—so that she could show you how easy it was for her to win.

And you loved it. Babysitting her was a brief respite from your days of research papers and early mornings. You considered it luck that your parents had moved into the Miller’s neighborhood after you left for college; it meant job security when you returned home from school.

Your father had quickly bonded with Joel after the move over their shared, niche interests; the watch brand they both wore, the tools they used for odd jobs—it was sweet, really, to see two men with little outward emotion confiding in each other. Though you'd never heard either of them say it outright, the long nights they spent in your family's garage drinking and muttering football scores to each other was enough for you to deem Joel Miller your father's best friend. You yourself wouldn’t consider Joel a friend, he was more so an acquaintance who paid you to hang around his house with his kid.

A very handsome acquaintance.

When he called you that afternoon to see if you were around, you nodded against the phone, wrapping the wire in your fingers and enthusiastically accepting the offer to babysit. An opportunity to spend time with Sarah, and the opportunity to speak to Joel—no matter how short the conversation—was not one to waste.

It wasn’t like you actively planned to seduce your father’s best friend, but in your head, it was a fun game to amuse yourself with; you had never exactly been the sexually-outgoing type, and it was exciting to play around and flirt poorly with a man as stoic and flawless as Joel Miller despite the fact that you knew he would never acknowledge, let alone cave, to your shy advances. Who cared if every interaction was fuel for your late-night activities, alone in the dark with your fingers pressed against you? Who cared if you remembered every time he looked at you, and all the ways he brushed up against you?

Nobody had to know.

Clad in a sundress that let you show off maybe a little more skin than you should as a caretaker, you meandered down the path to the Miller household from your own. You rang the bell, always hesitating to walk right in despite the fact that Joel had told you countless times in the past that you could come and go as you pleased. Joel opened the door and gave you a brief up-and-down, letting out a playful whistle.

“Just babysittin’, darlin’, didn’t have to get all gussied up.”

 “It’s an old dress, Mr. Miller,” you blushed, always referring to him with the honorific, “not anything fancy.”

“Fancier than anythin’ I ever wore.”

You examined the well-loved flannel and jeans he wore, “That’s not saying much, is it?” You smiled up at him.

Chuckling, he ushered you into the house, and you leaned against the counter. You weren’t uncomfortable around Joel; he was a nice man, despite the grumpiness he exuded, and you’d known him long enough now to feel at ease in his presence—never mind the fire that ignited in you when he spoke. “Sarah’s out in the pool. You can order dinner, ’m good for it,” he grabbed his keys, “don’t know when I’ll be back.” He crossed his arms, biceps bulging through his shirt, mulling over any other details he had to share with you. “Remember where everythin' is? Food, bandaids?”

“Yes, Mr. Miller.” You spoke up. This had become the usual back-and-forth between the two of you: he would over-explain the job you’d been doing for two summers now, and you would let him.  

“I’ll have cash for you when I’m back.”

“Don’t need it.” This was another game you enjoyed—pretending you didn’t expect anything out of him. Obviously, you’d watch Sarah for nothing, you loved her, but a college student living with her parents didn’t necessarily have the room to deny money being offered to her. You did it more out of courtesy than anything, with the added bonus of getting to see the roguish frown he directed at you.

Joel made a noise in disagreement before opening to back door to call for Sarah. “I’m leavin’!”

You watched as Sarah, sun-kissed and still soaked from the pool, bum rushed her father, letting him kiss her on the head and exchanging “I love yous” and “be goods” before she turned her attention toward you, grabbing your hand and leading you outside. You smiled a goodbye at Joel as you were pulled through the door to the backyard.

~~~

You didn’t remember falling asleep. Not that anyone ever really could, but you had no recollection of setting yourself up on the couch and nodding off.

You woke up to the feeling of something gently brushing at your knee. Opening your eyes and looking toward the source of the touch, your hazy brain registered Joel standing in front of you.

“Sorry ‘m so late, darlin’.” He was speaking softly, but his voice still managed to come off gruff. You savored the gravelly sound, and the way the nickname made it seem as though he was apologizing to a significant other for coming home late, rather than a babysitter he paid to be there.

“It’s alright,” you rubbed your eyes, trying to delay the post-nap grogginess you already felt seeping into your bones, “what time is it?”

“Little after two,” Joel frowned, brow knit “should’a called you.”

“It’s alright,” you reiterated, “Sarah just ran me kinda ragged.” You explained why you were passed out on his sofa. “Gets harder to keep up with her every summer—makes me feel old.” You grinned, tugging the hem of your dress down to cover the bare skin of your thigh to retain a bit of modesty.

Joel watched your movements before quickly refocusing his attention to your face. “How’d’ya think I feel ’round the two of you?”

You smiled at each other, too tired to grasp the atmosphere of the compromising situation you had found yourself in. “I should get going.” You stood, but Joel blocked your path.

“Not this late on your own, y’shouldn’t.”

“It’s a five-minute walk.” It was more like ten, but you didn’t bother with details, trying to quell Joel’s anxieties.

“I’ll drive you.”

“Mr. Miller…that’s excessive,” you argued, “I’m a grown up.”

“Like hell—don’t want you walkin’ on your own. It’s dark," he put his hands on his hips, leaning down to meet you at eye level, "what would your daddy say?"

“Don’t want you to drive me if you’ve been working all day.” You muttered, ignoring the way his phrasing and tone nearly made your knees buckle.

“That’s sweet,” he quirked a brow, “get in the truck.”

~~~

You liked Joel’s truck, it smelled like him; sweat and shampoo and sawdust, with a hint of the cologne he wore. He’d driven you around plenty, but usually it was still light out, and Sarah or your father would accompany the two of you.

You were comfortable with Joel—but that comfort went out the window when you were tired and alone, with the man that consumed many of your private thoughts, late at night. You felt somewhat self-conscious sitting next to him now, watching him fumble with the keys and white-knuckle the steering wheel.

“Seatbelt.” Joel reminded you, bringing you out of your thoughts and allowing you to rejoin him in the waking world. You buckled yourself in.

“So…” Joel seemed to be aware of the tension, “What’s your plan, when you get your degree?” He attempted small talk.

“Dunno,” you were honest, “wanna stay here.” He nodded, starting the engine and peeling out of the driveway. “Don’t really see myself joining the work force. Not yet. I’m only a junior—still got time.”

Joel laughed softly, “Give it a few years. You’ll get sick of doin’ nothin’.”

“I’m not doin’ nothin’,” you mimicked his thick drawl, “working for you, aren’t I?”

“Hardly,” Joel glanced over at you, “not payin’ you nearly enough.”

“It’s a good thing I like Sarah, then.” You joked. You enjoyed this, the repartee you were experiencing with Joel. You had known him since you were 18; fresh and unsure of yourself. Not that much had changed, personally, but it was rare that you got to experience Joel all to yourself; it was riveting, and a little nerve-wrecking, but it was nice to be the center of his attention, especially considering he had always seemed to regard you as an equal.

“You’re a good kid, sweetheart.” Joel smiled, thumping a hand on your thigh, just below the edge of your dress. This was new. He had put a guiding hand on your waist or shoulder in the past, but this placement felt more intimate. You stared at it, letting the warmth that radiated from him drain into you.

“Thank you, Mr. Miller.” You squeaked, still enjoying the weight of his hand on your thigh.

“Why don’t you call me Joel?”

“Do you want me to call you Joel?” You peeked over at him.

“Can do what you want,” he explained, “but you’re the only person that ever called me that.”

“I like it.”

“Bein’ the only person to call me that?” He rubbed his thumb over your skin, and you could feel yourself blush, the fabric of your underwear damp.

“I guess. Like how it sounds.”

“Makes me seem respectable.” He grinned, and you leaned back in the passenger seat to appreciate his side profile.

“Aren’t you?” You pushed, emboldened by his sudden physicality and wrapping a hand around his forearm, tracing your fingers across the tanned flesh. You felt like a high schooler, so unfamiliar with flirting and making awkward somatic advances instead of addressing the crush you had head-on. Still, a shot like this wasn't one you were inclined to miss.

Joel pressed the brakes at the stop sign at an intersection concealed by foliage. “Do you think I am?” He felt closer to you now, despite being the same distance in his seat as he had been for the duration of the ride. He let you continue to clumsily hold onto him, his own hand tightening the grip he had on your thigh.

“I—I think so…” You stammered, lips parted, unwavering gaze set upon him.

Joel put the car in park. He leaned in close to you, removing your hands from each other as he shifted, his hand moving to cup your cheek. “Think I can prove you wrong.”

You breathed out, eyes dragging up and down his face, providing the tiniest nod of consent—afraid that if you moved too much he’d take his hand away from you.

He kissed you then, slowly, gently; he let you set the pace with small, closed-mouth kisses. His hand slipped below your jaw and the kiss deepened slightly, leaving enough space for him to lick and nip at your bottom lip. You let out a soft moan at the feeling, the way his stubble rubbed against your lips, and he grunted, smiling. Your hands drifted up to his chest, holding tight to the fabric of his shirt and encouraging him to come closer. He slipped his tongue into your mouth, and you sighed at the feeling. You couldn’t say how long you continued on like that; his hands in your hair and yours planted on his chest, tenderly exploring each other’s mouths.

You felt your panties sticking to you, and you subconsciously began to roll your hips atop the seat you were in, suddenly frantic to find some kind of relief for your aching clit. Joel noticed, chuckling at your desperation.

“Poor thing,” he tilted your chin up to look at him, “need me to help you?” His eyes were darker than their usual shiny umber.

“Yes, Mr. Miller—please.” You pouted, eyes wide, rubbing your thighs together, still hoping to dull the throbbing between your legs.

“Fuck, darlin’,” Joel reached down to help you hike up the skirt of your dress, “such good manners, so pretty comin’ from that sweet li'l mouth.” He traced a finger over your panties, running it along the seam of your pussy. You moaned, bucking your hips gently into his finger, and he smiled, tutting. “I know, honey.”

His smile faded when he felt the drenched fabric of your underwear, eyelids drooping slightly when he let out a gruff moan. “This all for me, darlin’? Tastin’ me get you all wet?”

“Y—es,” you managed to choke out, “yes.” His smile reappeared then, clearly proud of himself and infatuated with you. He moved your panties to the side, grazing his finger over your entrance to collect some of your wet before he began to knead your clit.

You grabbed his wrist, whimpering. “Oh! Uh-huh…” Your mouth fell open and you looked up at him from under your eyelashes.

“Don’t look at me, sweetheart—watch me fuck you with my fingers.” Joel lowered his hand from your clit and plunged two fingers into your cunt. You cried out, squeezing his wrist in your hand, feeling so full from only his fingers. You watched him pump his hand, fingers thrusting in and out of you, accompanied by a squelching noise as your cunt wept for him.

“Oh, yes—yes, Mr. Miller—fuck, yes!” You shrilled the only words you could remember, finally throwing your head back in ecstasy, no longer able to abide by the rule Joel had set for you.

“Young li’l cunt,” Joel pawed at himself over his jeans, still focused on the sounds coming from your mouth and your pussy, “fuckin’ tight f’me.” He pulled his fingers out of you, bringing them to your lips and silently encouraging you to lick him clean. You did, taking them both into your mouth and licking your juices off of him. He slipped one more into your mouth, watching you struggle to handle all three, cheeks puffing out.

His hand came down to your hole once more, and this time he pushed all three fingers into you, using your saliva and wet as lubricant to ensure that they all fit securely inside, stretching you out as best he could.

“That’s it…need’a open you up, darlin’,” he watched the effort it took for you to take his fingers, spearing you on the thick digits while you moaned wantonly. “How’ya gonna take my cock if I can barely get my fingers into this pretty pussy?” You bucked your hips into his hand upon hearing his words, striving to make him proud by fucking yourself open. “Good fuckin’ girl.” He watched you bounce your hips back and forth on his hand.  

“Mr. Miller it—fuck, want—want your cock.” You moaned out, wetness dripping from your cunt and onto the fabric of the passenger seat, the moisture sticking to your thighs.

Joel grunted, punching his fingers up into you and making you scream out. “Yeah? Want my cock, let me fuck you nice ’n’deep?” Your eyes rolled back, and you couldn’t be certain if you were more impacted by his movements or his words, both working in tandem to ensure you were made a mess of.

“Yes! Want your cock!” You let your fingers rub circles over your clit, trying to match Joel’s rhythm, however awkward it was due to the center console he had to lean over.

“Can’t fuck you here, sweetheart,” he didn’t stop, “what would people say if they saw a sweet little thing like you taking Mr. Miller’s cock in his truck?” He was teasing, and he pulled the straps of your dress down, letting the fabric bunch and exposing your chest to him. “They’d know what an easy fuckin’ whore you were.”

You whined, back arched, and he slapped your hand away from your clit, taking over completely. “Want them to know—want them to know I’m a whore for you.” You felt filthy, loving every second of it.

“Comin’ to my house, dressed like a slut every fuckin’ time—this what you wanted, girl? Wanted me to use you like a fuckin’ toy?” You felt his fingers make a beckoning motion, curling up inside of you and putting pressure on your g-spot. You scratched at the headrest behind you, slumping down to let Joel have complete and total access to you, letting him use you up to his satisfaction. Moans and whimpers of his name fell from your mouth as he continued his ministrations. “Yeah, you fuckin’ like that, honey—just needed to whore yourself out.”

“I—‘m gonna cum!” You felt the strain in your body increase, muscles tightening at the impending release of all the tension they held.

“Who’re'ya gonna cum for, sweetheart?” Joel pinched your clit before resuming the massage he’d been providing it.

“You, Mr. Miller, gonna c—um for you!”

“Tha’s’right. Cum for Mr. Miller, darlin’. Be a good girl and cum on my fingers.” He was demanding it; telling, not asking, you to soak his hand with your cum. You felt the gratification come to a head, and your back arched further as you cried out his name. Joel watched with wonder, jaw slack, as your cunt clenched around the three fingers he had buried inside of you. He felt himself try to rut against the fabric of his jeans, horny like a teenager after watching you cum for him with such intensity. But he had meant what he said—he couldn’t fuck you here, at this tiny intersection where anybody could wake up, come out, and see you both. As much as he would’ve liked to fuck you there, it was overruled by the want to do it properly, in a more private space.

“Good fuckin’ girl…so good f’me.” Joel slid his fingers out of you, feeling the aftershocks of your orgasm with every movement he made as you continued to squeeze around him. He sucked on his fingers, eager to taste the juices he had pulled from you. Your chest heaved and your body trembled lightly; when you looked up at him and saw him cleaning his fingers off, you found the strength to lean over and take one of the fingers into your own mouth. The two of you licked at each other around his hand, moaning and panting at the indecent display.

He dropped his hand, focusing on you entirely. If you hadn’t been tired before, you were now, and the satisfaction Joel had given you was enough to put you to sleep where you sat, while his lips brushed your neck and cheeks.

“Think I respect you more after that,” you leaned back in your seat, recalling the conversation that had led you to this, throat verging sore after the screams he had pried out of you. “Been wanting you for so long.” You sighed dreamily, looking up at him through hooded eyes and reaching over to fiddle with the collar of his shirt.

“Could’a said so,” Joel took the hand you had on his chest and kissed your palm, “would’a been happy to give you what you needed.” You rubbed at his stubble, and he kissed your hand again before letting it go. He leaned over to help you fix the straps of your dress, covering your breasts. You sat quietly before he started the car, and he continued to drive you home, placing his hand on your thigh again, holding tightly, as if now that he’d seen you in such an amorous, vulnerable way, you’d disappear. You put your hand on top of his, weaving your fingers around it.

When he parked in front of your house, the clock in the truck read 3:08—a drive that should’ve taken two minutes had taken an hour, and you were glad your parents wouldn’t be awake to question why it had taken you so long to get home. Joel looked at you, tired eyes conveying a glint of gratification when he smiled.

“Thanks for the ride.” You found your voice again, leaning towards him to analyze and appreciate his features.

“My pleasure.” He smiled, just barely, and took your chin in his hand. You stared at each other, not yet wanting to get out of the car despite the fatigue you felt all over. “Y’know,” he spoke again, still holding your face, “think I’ll need you to come over tomorrow.”

“Yeah?”

“Mm. Think you’ll be around?”

You smiled, letting yourself melt into his touch when his hand wandered over your cheek. “Yes, Mr. Miller.”

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 🥰

I want to ride Steven so slow and tender til he cries fam, just make him beg all sweet and pretty, kiss his forehead and eyelids and nose and mouth with as much leisure as he reads his books, ya feel?

Same, bestie, same. Really I just want to torture him like:

You push down the waistband of your pants just enough to let them slip the rest of the way off your hips, puddling at your feet. The movement catches Steven's attention, his eyes glancing up from his book. His mouth drops, a perfect little O that is so comical you nearly laugh. Next go your panties.

"Steven?" you ask mildly.

He shuts his book so, so slowly. He hasn't marked his page. His eyes are too busy being glued to your legs, your thighs, the place between your legs. His voice is an octave higher than normal when he asks: "Yes, love?"

"Can you get hard for me?"

He blinks. "I--am well on the way."

You point to the sofa, loving the awkward way he shuffles to it, nearly bashing his shin against the coffee table in his eagerness. His cock is hard, already, straining against the fabric of his slacks. You motion to it, brow raised, and his hands scramble to unfasten his pants, to shift them down his thighs so that his cock--long and thick enough to be pleasing, flushed a shade darker than his natural tan--pops free.

"What's gotten into you?" he laughs a little as you climb onto his lap. Any other question fades when you turn until your back is facing him, one hand reaching between your legs to find his cock and feed it into your aching cunt. "Oh, gods. You're so wet, love. Been thinking about me?"

You hum, shifting as you take the stretch of him, your thighs shaking a little with effort. At last you have lowered yourself down to rest against his lap. Sighing in pleasure, you lean back against his chest, craning your head so that you can search for his mouth with your own, kissing him filthy and slow.

You reach for the remote and turn on the telly--find one of your shows. After a few moments of stillness, Steven clears his throat softly (as if you could have forgotten him when he feels like he's guts deep inside you). "Are we--?"

"We're gonna sit just like this," you say, reaching an arm back to pet through his curls. "You're just going to be one of my toys today, keeping me stretched and filling me up. Yeah?"

All the breath goes out of him, expressed shakily against your neck. His cock jerks inside you, and you grip his curls a little tighter, tugging in warning. "Y-yeah?"

You hum again. "Be good, keep still, and stay hard for me."

And not ten minutes later, he's a mess, whining into the nape of your neck, toes curling and uncurling against the wooden floors as he tries to distract himself. His hands grip your hips, and sometimes you find him trying to move you, softly sway you on his cock. You pull his curls sharply, thrilling at the throaty groan he gives.

"Still, baby. Stay still."

His cock jerks.

"Steven."

"Can't...can't help it," he whines, breaths coming shallow and hot against your shoulder. "Oh please let me move you, love, please please--"

"I love when you beg," you sigh happily. "Know why, baby?"

"Why?" Steven asks, obedient even as he strains to be good for you.

You grin, letting your head rest back against his shoulder, turning to kiss at his sweaty temple gently. "Because I love telling you no, baby."