UPDATE 2: Ellie’s Medical Bills Have Dropped Drastically Because Her 48 Hour Stay Turned To A 29 Hour

The Penthouse

18+

A group of obscenely rich, horrifically powerful, and sex-addicted individuals share more than one dark secret - but their favorite secret is you. The pretty little thing they've got living in the lavish penthouse they bought together, where they can escape to when they need a break from their families.

Series Warning: Multiple Characters x Reader, adultery, hard drug use, smut, depiction of rough sex, dark kinks (specified in each part).

1: Ragdoll ARI LEVINSON

2: Seductress STEVE ROGERS

3: Special STEVE KEMP

4: Mommy RANSOM DRYSDALE

5: Soother BUCKY BARNES

drabbles

• what it's like for y/n living in the penthouse

• rules of the penthouse

• bucky's other life

• how it all began

• the time brock rumlow broke a rule

Then There Were Three

Pairing:  Marc Spector x bi f!reader x Layla El-Faouly

Summary: Things get complicated when your two friends, Layla and Marc, who you may or not be madly in love with, invite you to be their roommate. Prequel to What Good Girls Get and how their relationship started. But it can be read on its own, I guess. 

Warnings: No explicit smut, but subtle illusions to masturbation and some mentions of kissing, ANGST( resolves with happy ending tho :) ),friends to lovers, jealousy, slightly toxic behavior from everyone involved, reader gets drunk and makes questionable choices but Layla and Marc come to the rescue, mentions reader kissing stranger, feelings of unrequited love followed by profession of feelings, happy ending :). Let me know if I missed anything

 Wc: 3.6k

 A/N: Soooo, why did no one tell me writing angst was so fun?? I wrote this as a prequel to What Good Girls Get because I really want to make a series out of their relationship/dynamic. So, I decided to write this to sort of set everything up and give some background into how they all came together. I'll most likely still write Marc x Reader x Layla fics separate from the series, but I think this'll be fun. Let me know what you think and if you'd like to see more. As always comments/feedback are always welcome and encouraged!!

You first meet Layla in a self-defense class she's instructing at the community center. You hit it off immediately and begin hanging out outside of the class. She even introduces you to her husband, Marc. He's really great too, so you eventually all start hanging out together. Your friendship quickly grows, and you find yourself seeing them multiple times a week.

 You're out grabbing coffee with them one day and tell them how you are looking for a second job. In turn, Marc mentions that they have been going away for work more frequently and are considering getting a house sitter, not wanting to leave their place empty for days and possibly weeks on end.

 "The job is yours, if you're interested of course," he offers.

 "Really? Yeah, that'd be great." You nod, relieved to not continue the job hunt, something that has been huge stress on your life

 "Of course. You're there all the time anyway,” Layla says and you all chuckle. She's right, you're always coming over to have dinner and watch movies, often times sleeping over since your apartment is across town.

 You adjust well to the new ‘job’. It isn’t difficult. All they have is a fish and few plants so it isn’t too demanding. You really just laze about their apartment and clean up here and there and await their return. It begins to feel like a second home. You rarely spend time at your own place, really only going back to get clothes.

 Not that you’re complaining, you hate your apartment. Things are always breaking and the landlord is an asshole, so when it comes time for your lease to be up, you decide to look for a new place. You voice your concerns about finding somewhere on such short notice and, yet again, the couple present you with a convenient solution. They offer up their spare bedroom.

 "Oh, no, I wouldn't want to impose," you say, although not voicing the real reason for your reluctance.

 Since you first met Layla, you may or may not have developed a crush on her. And then you found out she's married and you decided to push those feelings aside, out of respect for their relationship of course.  But then you all started hanging out together and in no time, you started falling for Marc too.

They're both so great, but you know nothing could ever happen between you and them. Layla had once opened up about her and Marc having been through a lot and said they’re finally in a happy, healthy place. That's all you needed to hear and immediately buried those feeling deep inside you. They're relationship is finally stable again, who are you to come in and shake that up over a little crush?

 Well, what started out as a little crush soon develops into some very serious feelings for both of them and it's getting harder and harder to ignore. You start to envy their relationship. Seeing them together makes you think about what you don't have. But it's more than that, you're envious that you don't have it with them.

 You like being able to be roommates, but the proximity makes it harder to keep your feelings for them at bay. You're constantly coming home and finding them all cuddled up on the couch or just seeing little glimpses of them being couple-y in general and it really starts to get to you.

 You eventually decide to start dating again, hoping it'll help you move on from your feelings for your roommates. While they're away for work, you decide to invite a guy over that you had been out with a couple of times. They end up coming home early and Marc flips out. Layla tries to calm him down but he says you can’t just be bringing strangers into their home. He storms off and Layla apologizes. You send the guy home. Technically this is your home too, but you realize it would be better if you mentioned your plans to them before hand, just out of respect.

 That isn't an isolated incident, though. Marc doesn't seem too keen on you dating in general. Layla seems to be supportive, yet constantly warns you to be careful meeting people online. So, you try to keep them in the loop of who you're seeing, hoping that resolves the issues. But any time you mention a date, Marc goes silent. You had met this girl a while back and suggested a double date to try and ease some of the tension and Marc flat out refused. Anytime you would even bring her up he would dismiss it and get short with you.

 After a while of him acting like that, Layla surprises you by saying she shares that same feeling. She tells you that it’s probably not the best idea, although she's a lot kinder about it. She won't give you a reason why, though, and you just assume it's to not cause division between her and Marc.  She had initially said it was fine to have people over while they weren't home but she eventually sides with Marc on that, too, saying not to just to be safe. You're disappointed and their decision starts making dating even harder. 

Not wanting to jump through the hoops of dating, you feel like your back to square one with nothing to distract you from your feelings for Marc and Layla. They feel bad since you seem to have given up on dating, so they begin inviting you everywhere with them. You love being with them, but at the end of the night you go back to your room, alone, wishing you could hold their hands, kiss them, and show them affection like you're desperate to do. You're frequently tempted to turn down their invitations and offer the excuse of not wanting to intrude, especially when it seems like a date night type of activity, but Layla just tells you you’re always welcome and that they’d really like you to join.

 There is one thing that they don’t ask you to join in on. It's the thing you crave most. It’s what you dream about when you’re alone at night satisfying those needs with your hand while you know they’re fulfilling them for each other.

It’s almost torture on those nights you're all watching a movie and they start getting closer and closer on the couch. They snuggle up together and give quick kisses when they think you aren't looking. They're obviously wanting more, but out of respect for you, they keep things tame. But you know. You know when they leave halfway through the movie, telling you they're tired and run off to their room, and you hear the giggles and whispers as they sneak away.

 Then you're left alone, only imagining what they're doing in there, and the emptiness in your heart is joined by an ache between your legs. So you go to your own room, giving yourself a pitiful orgasm that leaves you with even more longing than you felt before.

One night, you walk into the living room on your way out to meet your friends and they’re going at it on the couch, hands roaming over their clothed bodies. They sense you walk in and pull apart, going to apologize but you turn away, and rush out the door with an awkward 'bye'.

 You try to brush it off, but it puts a damper on your evening and you drink more than you should. You find some random person to go home with, hoping to take your mind off things. You end up making out on their couch but all you can think about is Marc and Layla. Not feeling it anymore, you tell them you want to stop and get your things and leave. You walk out of the building, then realize you don’t have a ride.

You make a feeble attempt to order an Uber but the level of intoxication makes it seem like an impossible task. You finally manage to open your messaging app and see a bunch of text from Marc and Layla. They're freaking out because you always text them if you’re not coming home that night and they fear the worst thinking something happened to you.

 You call Layla. You brace yourself for Marc to go off on you for not telling them where you are. She answers immediately, clearly on edge but relieved to finally be hearing from you. “Where are you, babe?” The nickname she calls you sends a pang of hurt to your heart, knowing that when she calls Marc that, it holds a totally different meaning.

 “Please don’t call me that,” you mumble.

 “What? Where are you?” she asks, hearing the slur in your voice and hoping you’re somewhere safe.

 “I don’t know? Umm…” You look around for a street sign, but turning your heads around has your head spinning and you get dizzy and take a seat on the curb.

 “Are you still at the bar?” She knows where you'd gone and with who, but judging by the frustrated whine you let out she can tell that you're no longer there.

 “Put Gina on the phone,” she instructs, hoping you were still with the group.

“I'm not with her. She…I don't know where she is. Probably still with the girl she was talking to earlier. I don't know though.” You sigh, wishing you had thought this whole thing through before running off.

 Layla sighs, frustrated that you split from the group. You hear Marc exclaim, “What?! They left you alone? Where are you?”, letting you know you’re on speaker and he’s heard everything.

 “Marc, she just said she doesn’t know,” Layla says, trying to calm him down a bit. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

 “I met someone and we went back to their place but now I'm outside and… please come get me.” You slur out your explanation and you hear Marc grumble something, but you can’t make it out.

 “Marc, don’t. Babe? Babe, you still there?” Layla's voice crackles on the line.

 “Please. Stop,” you plead, you voice laced with hurt.

 "Stop what? I need you to listen to me. Can you turn on your location for me?" You fumble for a good five minutes and they both try walking you through the steps and you finally manage to share your location with them. “Stay put. We’ll be there soon," Layla assures.

 They stay on the line but you sit in silence, wishing you were tucked into bed and ready to forget this whole night. When they finally arrive, Layla gets out to open the door for you, and guides you gently into the back seat.

 There's a tension in the air and you're left feeling like someone whose parents caught them sneaking out. Marc sits in the driver's seat, grumbling out various comments like “How could you be so irresponsible?”, and, “Going home with some stranger, do you have any idea what how dangerous that is? You’re lucky they let you leave.”

 Layla places her hand on his thigh, trying to get him to let up, but she doesn’t say anything. She looks just as disappointed as him. He continues, “I just don’t know what you were thinking…", and you see him shake his head.

 You become fed up with the scolding. “I just wanted to have a little fun, ok? I don’t have a partner at home I can run to whenever I need a good screw. We’re not all as lucky as you two!”, you shout, crossing your arms. Your sober self will regret that, but right now you don’t care.

 “Were not saying you can’t go out and meet people, we just wish you’d be a bit more careful,” Layla says, sensing your agitation, but frustration continues to bubble up inside you. “Yeah, well you sure act like I'm not allowed. You treat me like a child! You monitor who I'm going out with like you’re in charge of me or something. Unless you’re going to include me the next time you guys run off to your room to fuck each other, then I'd appreciate it if you would just stay out of my business.” You huff and slum against the seat.

 "Babe…we don't mean to-" Layla starts, but before you can stop it, and all your pent-up feelings start flowing out of you uncontrollably. "Enough! Cool it with the 'babe' and 'honey' and 'sweetheart'. I'm not your 'babe' and I'm clearly never going to be so would you spare me the hurt and…and disappointment and stop calling me that?" You feel tears well in your eyes and your voice quivers as you speak. You get no response, both of them clearly not knowing what to say.

 Just moments ago, you were seething, but it's morphed into a sadness that makes your chest feel heavy. Not wanting to let them see you cry, you turn and lean your head against the window, not noticing the look they give each other. Your comment seemed to shut them up so you finish the ride in silence.

  When you pull up to the apartment, you stumble out of the car and storm into the building before they can help you. Once you're through the door you go to your room, slam the door, and throw yourself onto the bed. You lay there, already drifting off, but Layla walks in with a glass of water and some ibuprofen that she knows you’ll be needing in the morning. Marc follows behind her with a washcloth.

 She helps you sit up and gives you some water, then gets up to grab you some pjs. While she rifling through your drawer, Marc gently wipes your face, cleaning the sweat and tears of the night off. You sigh at the feeling of the warmth on your skin. You lean into him as he does it and he soothingly strokes your back.  You feel yourself starting to drift off in his arms but hear a “No, no, no. Not yet,” and he chuckles while he sits you back up.

 Layla’s hands you your clothes and they both turn around, wanting to be respectful, but also to be there in case you fall, which in your state is very likely. It takes a bit, but you manage to slide your shirt and shorts on and fall back onto the bed. They turn back and bid you goodnight. You mumble a 'night' before sleep overtakes you.

You wake up and the events of the night come flooding back to you. Your head is pounding, and your breath quickens as you replay the conversation you had in the car the night before. Fuck. You’re never drinking again. Those feelings that you tried so hard to bury had finally come to the surface. What's even worse is that the two people you absolutely did not want to hear them, did. You stay in your room as long as possible, but eventually you can no longer ignore the grumbling in your stomach. You tip toe to the kitchen, hoping not to run into the couple. Luckily, it seems like they’re both gone so you make yourself breakfast and sneak back off to your room.

 As you finish your food, you decide that you can’t stay here. Everything you worked desperately to keep a secret has come to light and you can’t face them. You pack up your things, the tears coming and going as you realize your two favorite people will no longer be in your life. They've become your support system, your safe haven and it's all gone. And it's all your fault. You reluctantly leave your keys on the counter along with note. You can’t seem to figure out what to say, you stare at the blank slip of paper. All you write is, 'I'm sorry' and leave it at that.

  Luckily, your friend offers to let you stay at their place until you can figure out a new living situation. After about a week of hundreds of missed calls and text from your ex-roommates and withering away on your friend's couch, they invite you out. They can tell you're hurt and don't want you to completely fall apart, so they try to get your mind off of things.

 You spend the night trying to dance and have fun with your friends but you're too distracted. You don't dare drink. The shame from what happened last time making you consider never drinking again.

 You fall back into a semi-normal routine, but can't seem to pull yourself out of this funk. You decide to use your day off to visit your favorite coffee shop, somewhere you usually go every morning before work but haven't had the energy to go.

 Drink in hand, you walk out of the café and feel the sun shining bright and warm on your skin. You smile at the feeling, something you missed while you holed yourself up in the apartment for weeks.

 You turn to walk towards the park, but your smile immediately drops as you come face to face with the two people who haven't left your mind since you last saw them. You almost drop your drink as they walk up to you.

 "Hey," Marc greets softly, not wanting to startle you further.

 "What are you doing here?" you ask, breathlessly. The sight of them causes the events of your last encounter to flood your mind. You suddenly feel very overwhelmed, your nerves telling you to run away, but your feet remain glued to the ground.

 "Can we talk?" Layla asks. You're obviously hesitant, but the way you left was abrupt and there was no closure, so you feel like you owe it to them. You're just not ready to face the rejection you weren't giving them the chance to voice to you.

You follow them to the park across the street. You walk along, your body swirling with emotion. More than anything, you feel embarrassment and shame for the way you acted. But that calmness you always seem to feel when they’re around soothes you.

 As you all take a seat at one of the picnic tables, you speak first. All the things you've wanted to say to have been rattling around in your head for weeks, so you waste no time in letting them know.

 "Look, I disrespected you guys and your relationship and I was totally out of line. I've thought about it a lot and I care about you two so much, but it wouldn't be fair to you guys or even myself if I pretend like these feelings aren't there." You don’t want to stop having them in your life but you can't push these feelings down any longer. "It was really taking a toll on me and I think it might just be better to cut ties completely to allow myself the space move on," you confess. It's not easy though, and every second you look in their eyes makes saying goodbye seem even more unbearable.

 A look of hurt flashes across their faces as you mention breaking off the friendship and you feel guilt bubble up inside you once again. This is your fault. If you hadn't drank, if you had just kept your mouth shut, this wouldn't be happening. But you would still be hopelessly in love with them and the unreciprocated feelings would be too much to bear, regardless.  

"I can't keep following you guys around like some lovesick puppy. I just…I can't do it," you declare, voice cracking as you feel your throat start to get tighter as the sadness overtakes you. Layla reaches across the table and places her hand on top of yours.

 "Listen," she starts, "we want you in our lives. You're our best friend and we love you so much."

"But," Marc speaks up and you think to yourself, here we go. They get you alone to tell you what’s already been made perfectly clear, they don’t feel the same and you would just be getting in the way of their relationship. You feel tears start burning in your eyes and turn to the side trying to blink them away.

 "we had no idea how to tell you we want this relationship to be something more." Your head swings to look at them, confusion written all over your face.

 "It was selfish to act like we did. Inviting you to date nights, being all cuddly, not being supportive of your relationships," Layla interjects. " We should have communicated our true feelings and it must have been very confusing for you. We are so sorry to have dragged it out this long. We should have spoken up sooner but we just didn't know how to tell you. We didn't want to scare you off if you didn't feel the same.

 "Really?" They both nod and Marc's hand joins Layla's on top of yours. You let out breath that feels like it was trapped in your chest, and you relax your shoulders. You've been dreaming of this moment. Dreaming they'd pull you into their arms and tell you they want you, to have a relationship with you. You almost don't believe it, having convinced yourself there was no way they feel the same.

 "So…now what?" you ask and they both chuckle. As elated as you are, this is going to be new for all of you. You have no idea what it's going to look like, and how you're all going to adjust.

 "We go get your stuff and you come home," Marc says, and gives you a warm smile.

Bossy Boy

Steven Grant X f!Reader

Not Beta Read - Requested by @xbellaxcarolinax

Kinks - Pushy Bottom + Messy Orgasm

Summary

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

Tags/Warnings

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

Word Count: 686

“Steven, what have I told you?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Stop moving,” you ordered with little conviction.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Made quite a mess didn’t we?”

Steven Grant Masterlist

Moon Knight Masterlist

Melody's 1k Celebration Masterlist

Peeping Neighbor | J.M.

ꨄ Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

ꨄ Summary: Mr. Miller is your neighbor and he keeps calling you at the worst time…what could he possibly want?

ꨄ CW: smut! 18+, minors DNI, peeping neighbor! Joel, perv!joel, age gap implied (Joel’s late 30s and reader is early 20s), phone sex, mutual masturbation, pet names, reader watches porn (wxw/wxm) toys used, size kink, foul dirty mouth Joel.

ꨄ WC: 1.7k

(Technically this would be no outbreak!Joel, lived long enough to see smart phones be a huge thing.)

Let me know what you think! Enjoy!🖤

There was nothing good on TV this late at night and you knew that, but you flicked through the channels anyway, hoping something would jump at you and get your attention. Nothing did, it was all boring shit. You turned the TV off and suddenly your room was almost pitch black, the street light outside casting an orange glow against your bedroom wall. As you laid there looking at the ceiling, your mind wandered and before you knew it your hand was opening your nightstand drawer and grabbing your vibrator, going down your shorts. Slow and soft rubs buzzed against your clit while you thought absolute filthy thoughts. You were just getting into the motions when suddenly your phone was buzzing on your nightstand.

10:17 p.m: Joel Miller Calling

For fucks sake.

"H-hello? What's up Mr. Miller?" you sounded a little out of breath and frazzled. shit.

"Hey sweetheart, sorry I know it's late, did I happen to leave my tape measure there from earlier when I was helpin' your dad? I can't find it anywhere.."

Was he serious right now? Why the hell was he worried about a fucking measuring tape this late at night?

You scratched your head and sighed a little too loudly. "No uh, I'm sorry Mr.Miller, I haven't seen it, I'm sorry." god dammit you just wanted to get your rocks off and go to bed.

"Okay, thanks darlin', I appreciate you lookin' for me. Have a good night." He hung up before you could tell him goodnight, weird.

The app of all your saved favorite dirty videos you watch on a burner account, you know exactly which app, was staring you dead in the eye. You clicked your burner account and scrolled until you found your favorite girl on girl video you bookmarked, and your hand turned on your vibrator once more, pressing straight to your clit. The moaning, the kissing, the pussy eating was making you squirm with burning hot pleasure under your own touch. Crazy what a two minute video can do for you. You could see your orgasm approaching rather quickly when once more, your phone starting ringing and the call was flashing over the dirty video.

10:25 p.m: Joel Miller Calling

This is a joke.

"Yeah, Mr. Miller?" there was no hiding your panting this time, or your snappy tone.

"Jus' wanted you to know I found it, was in my truck." There was something else he wanted to say, he was too cheery over a fucking tape measure.

At this point you didn't even turn off your vibrator, why lose the momentum when you were so close? It was however, very distracting to focus on what he was saying.

"Mhm, yeah that's-that's great I'm glad you found it." Your eyes rolled to the back of your skull and you almost let a moan out when he said your name.

"Is everything okay, sweet pea? You sound out of breath..and what's that buzzin' sound?" Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

You quickly cleared your throat and turned off your vibrator, tossing it to your side. "Oh! Yeah, I'm fine, just doing some stretches before I go to sleep. Buzzing? I don't hear anything, must be your phone. Well I'm glad you found your stuff, but I really have to get some sleep. G'night Mr. Miller!" You hung up so fast he didn't have a chance to say anything.

Sighing deeply, you put your head in your hands and started giggling softly. That was so close. You grabbed your toy one last time and turned it on, pressing it to your soaking wet clit again. Finding another one of your favorites, you watched closely as they started making out, the guy moving down her body and sucking her nipples as he fingers her.

You bent your knees and moved your vibrator up and down along your overwhelmed bud and soft whimpers escaped your lips, eyes screwed shut pretending that was you getting your nipples sucked.

10:31 p.m: Joel Miller Calling

There was ZERO way you were answering for the third time. No, kindly fuck off Mr.Miller. You sent the call straight to voicemail and went back to looking through your catalog of videos. A notification popped up along the top of your phone saying you had one new voicemail. Curiosity got the best of you and you wanted to know what he said. You pressed the phone to your ear and listened closely to the message, vibrator still going against your clit.

"Hey sugar, I didn't get a chance to tell you what I got to see when I went to my truck. You should reeeally be careful with leavin' your curtains open. I was walkin to my truck when I caught a glimpse of you playin' with yourself. Now, It's not a big de-"

You didn't need to hear anymore. Your face was hot with humiliation mixed with anger. You turned off your toy and sat up in bed before you dialed his number back. Who the fuck did he think he was? You heard him pick up the phone and you didn't give him one millisecond to fix his lips to say hello.

"Who do you think you are leaving fucking voicemails like that on my phone?!" you harshly whispered, not wanting to wake up your dad upstairs Joel chuckled and that only pissed you off more.

"Listen to me, pretty baby and listen to me good. I'm gonna help you get yourself off and you're gonna accept the offer because let's be honest here, I've heard you moan my name before when I've come home late and your windows are wide fuckin' open for the whole neighborhood to hear. Now, you dirty lil thing, are you touching yourself right now?"

You never knew your face could get so hot until this very moment. Suddenly all those times you were moaning his name as you were orgasming came rushing back to you, and there was many of those nights. He was attractive, a good face to picture while you came, you admit it. Part of you wondered if this was a joke but the other part wanted to believe he wanted this too.

You took a deep breath and laid back down in your bed, closing your eyes gently. "No, no I'm not, just laying here."

"Ok, I want you to turn on your lil vibrator again like I heard earlier and put it back where you had it, against that pretty lil pussy." His tone was low and seductive, it was hard to stay upset when he sounded so hot.

You did what he said and pressed the buzzing toy against you, moans slipping from your lips. "oo-oh it feels so good Mr. Miller" you whined and pressed harder against the toy.

"Mmmm does it bunny? Would it be better if I was there using the toy against that wet clit of yours while I fuck you? Hm? My hard cock pumping in and out of you while I pinch those pretty nipples of yours and watch you swim in pleasure. Tell you how gorgeous you look wrapped around my cock while I fuck you so good your makeup is running down your face, would you like that baby?" His teasing tone was met with the sound of a belt being undone in the background behind and that added to the images floating in your mind.

"Yes I want that so bad, your cock filling me up to the brim, and I can't take all of it because you're so big. Make me take it all and shove your fingers down my throat before you kiss me, putting your tongue in my mouth. I bet your big cock would feel so good going in and out of my tight hole, Mr.Miller." you breathily respond as the pressure builds in your stomach and goes straight to your clit.

He grunted in pleasure as he took a moment to picture that, and he was breathing heavy now. "Wh-what do you think of when you're cumming sweetheart, why do you say my name? Call me Joel baby."

"Because you're so hot, Joel. I think about riding your face until I cry, I think about fucking you before we'd go to sleep, when we'd wake up, pretty much whenever I'd get a second alone with you. I see the way you undo your belt in your driveway as soon as you get home from work because you want it off so badly and all I can think about is you spanking me with it. " you were being so vulnerable with him, you didn't mean to go into such detail with that answer.

"Fuuuuckkk you naughty girl. You're so fuckin' nasty, I should've called you sooner. Yeah I bet you taste so sweet baby doll. God damn I'd pin you to my face until I'm done eating that pussy. I'd love to have my beard covered in your sweet juices, just glistening before I kiss you to let you have a taste. You want me to spank you with my belt? Throw you over my lap and kiss your ass cheeks before I spank the hell outta them, fuckkk-" he groaned out and you could tell he was close.

"Joe-l I'm gonna cum, i'm gonna fuckin cum right now, oh m-" you squeaked out and you went silent as your body shook with your orgasm. Soft whimpers danced through the phone into Joel's ear and it was enough to send him shooting his load all over his lap like a goddamn water fountain. He was loud when he came, he was cussing and grunting over and over. You laid there in bliss as you listened to him come down from his high, the grunts dying out softly.

"You dirty girl you, I've got cum all over my thighs and stomach. Next time you're feelin' like this, come over. Not like I'm super far." he joked and you laughed with him, replaying what just happened. "I will, Joel. Thanks for the fun. Get some sleep, maybe I'll come over for breakfast tomorrow." you hinted and he gasped slightly. "I better be ready then, shouldn't I? G'night pretty baby."

11:02 p.m: call ended.

Bite Me

Pairing: Steven Grant x fem reader

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

Rating: 18+, smut

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

Word count: 2,771

Credit: @automnepoet for proofreading ily.

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

"Wow, you look amazing!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"For you, mommy." 

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

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

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

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

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

"Hey!"

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

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

"Alright, sweetheart, now you can."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Bite me again."

"What?"

"Bite me again. Please, mommy."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Or you could just wear no underwear–"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Oh Steven –ah!– baby–"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Eh… fuck her."

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

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

3 suits for 3 lil guys

Fractional Focus

About this: Steven/fem!reader, fingering. Daddy kink is mentioned, but not an active kink element.

For Rose <3

*

How are you meant to help it? 

Steven sits at his desk with a book in hand. When you’d (long ago) come to the realization that everything about him turned you on, you still hadn’t imagined this, that even the most mundane of actions could have your mouth dry and knees shaking. 

But it’s the way his lips will mouth the words he reads. It’s how broad his hand is, cradling the spine of the book with all the tenderness he uses to touch you. It’s the lines of his body when he sits back and puts his feet up on the desk to make himself comfortable. It’s the way he turns the bloody pages, the rasp of his calloused thumb against the paper as he performs the well-practiced flick. 

No one has any right to have you so hot and bothered just by reading a book. Steven makes a sound in his throat and sits up, letting his feet return to the floor so that he can plant one elbow on the desk and stare down into the book rapturously. His focus is so singular, so intensely devoted. So not yours. 

“Steven?” you murmur, coming to stand behind him with your hands on his broad shoulders. 

“Hm?”

“Do you think you’ll read all day?” 

“Course not,” he says. Your heart lifts, then stalls and free falls when he adds: “I should be finished by dinnertime.” 

You frown at the back of his head. His curls are so dark and thick. One of your thumbs skims up the back of his neck and strokes the soft strands. He hums but makes no other movement—except to turn the page. 

“Steven?”

“Hm?”

“Do you think you could take a break?” 

This has him pausing, finger moving to mark his place on the page while he turns to glance at you over his shoulder. He really should have his glasses on when he reads, but he’s misplaced them. By dinnertime, he’ll have a headache for sure. “A break? Absolutely. I’ve got about fifteen pages left in this chapter—” 

You manage not to groan, but it is a very near thing. Your lips press together tightly to hold in the unhappy sound, but Steven’s eyes miss nothing, zeroing in on your minute, unhappy expressions. He raises one brow but says nothing. Something about his gaze has your ears growing warm, like you’re a child that he’s chastising for distracting him. Let daddy work, baby, and I’ll take you out for an ice cream cone later. 

And oh, god, that’s a whole can of worms you aren’t ready to open. 

“Am I neglecting you, love?” he asks lightly. You hold up your thumb and forefinger, the tiniest sliver of space between them. “I’m so very sorry. Good thing for you, I’m good at multitasking.” 

He pats his lap. Smile brightening, you move to straddle him, ready to wrap your arms around his torso, bury your face in his neck, and nearly doze off to the sound of turning pages. But with a hand he stops you, twirling his finger to show that he wants you to sit with your back against his chest so that you are facing his book. 

“Aztec History: a Captivating Guide to the Aztec Empire, Mythology, and Civilizations,” you read blandly. “Not really in the realm of my interests, Mr. Grant.” 

“Well, ‘s not for you, is it?” he returns, looping an arm around your waist to draw you more firmly against him. “Now be good for me, yeah?” 

You sigh as quietly as you can, lean your head back against his shoulder, and resign yourself to your fate. Steven deserves to enjoy his book. There will be other times—

His hand slips beneath your shirt to rest flat against your tummy. As warm as you are, he is burning hot in the best way. His rough palm smooths across your skin before falling still as he is distracted by the book. You can feel his lips moving soundlessly against your temple as he mouths the words. 

Then his hand rises up to cup one of your breasts, holding the heft of it in his broad palm. You suck in a breath, holding it. Distractedly, he drags the pad of one thumb across your nipple. 

“Fuck,” you whisper. 

“Shh.”

He teases the bud into one aching point with lazy, aimless touches that have your thighs clenching together. All you want is for him to take it between his fingertips, to roll it so firmly and sweetly, to stoke the wetness between your legs. 

But pulling his hand away, he reaches out to turn the page. 

You breathe a laugh. “So it’s like that, is it?”

“Right?” he mutters back. “Eighty pages in and we’re finally getting to the comparisons between Egyptian and Aztec culture. Feel like I’ve been waiting eight hundred pages, personally.”

Page turned, he lets his hand fall back to rest on your lap, fingers gripping one bare thigh gently. He reads that way for several minutes, turning one page and then two until you’re just about to give up hope. 

“Love, you’re squirming,” he says. “Be still for me, would you?”

You try.

His hand moves up to rest against your stomach again, immediately stilling your breaths. This time, he slips his fingers beneath the waistband of your sleep shorts. He cups his entire palm against your mound and just rests there. Something in the book must amuse him, because he snorts softly. 

It’s degrading in the best way to be given only a fraction of his attention and to revel in it, to ache for it, to be so fucking grateful for it. Absently, he lets his fingers dip into the wet little seam between your legs, the tips of two fingers resting against your slick opening. He drags them up and right over your clit. Your entire body jerks like he’s electrocuted you. 

“Still, please,” he reminds you. 

“Steven,” you whine. 

“Hush, none of that. This is just getting good.” You suspect he’s talking about the book, but you can’t help but agree. It takes all of your self control to stay still and let him strum his fingers, warm and wet with your slick, across your clit until the slide is smooth and frictionless. He begins to play with you without aim as if you are nothing but an outlet for his distractible energy, something he can toy with while his focus is on other things. 

Just as you begin to climb that peak that has your legs already shaking in anticipation—he pulls his hand away to turn the page, pausing only to wipe your wetness on the bare skin of your thigh so that he doesn’t smear any on the pages. 

“How’s he just going to skim over that?” Steven suddenly rants out loud, the fingers he’s just been using to torment you pressed against a line in the book. You couldn’t focus on the words if you tried, your brain fuzzy and blurry. “I’d read a whole bloody book about that on its own.”

He returns his hand to beneath the waistband of your shorts, rubbing those lackadaisical circles across your aching clit again and again. It becomes a race then, to finish in the space between one page in the next, in the time it takes for him to need to turn a page. He drives you upwards slowly and steadily, pausing every now and then to dip back to your hole to coax more wetness from you. 

When you’re nearly there, legs shaking, you feel his hand tense, ready to withdraw to turn the page. 

“Please don’t, please,” you pant. “I’m almost there Steven. Please?” 

He sighs against your temple. “Turn the page for me, then, won’t you?” 

Your hand trembles as you reach out. He increases the pressure of his fingers, and as soon as your own touch the page, you reach the crest you’d been climbing for the last half hour. The band deep inside your belly snaps, pleasure arcing over you like lightning, stiffening all your muscles. You only have a moment to think how you wish he was inside you before he tucks his fingers into you knuckle deep, sighing shakily at the way your cunt clenches around him. 

“Such a good girl,” he says, kissing your temple. “Don’t forget to turn that page for me now, yeah?” 

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.

I’m not a perfectionist, but finding a typo or a grammatical error in my own already-published fic is like stepping on a Lego honestly

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.”