#andy barber × reader

[moonxnite]

y’all ever fantasize about a fictional character a little too hard to the point you’re convinced you should be admitted to a mental hospital?

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

blushing birthday

a/n: iihhh! first story in this slutty au! felt like this was a good place to jump off from. and also, i just wanna point this out because i nearly never do and perhaps some people don’t realise it, but if you have a thought, an idea, a wish or request in this au (or any other, my inbox is always open for requests) then feel free to click on my ask button and send it my way ♡

summary: “so, what I was thinking,” you tilted your head, “was that before I go give him his present, you guys could maybe help me prep a little bit, warm me up and stretch out my ass enough to fit his big fat cock. Would you guys like that?”

warnings: various x camgirl!reader, smut, porn au, college au, roommate!bucky barnes, roommate!steve rogers, roommate!curtis everett, ex!ransom drysdale, dilf neighbour!andy barber, reader's porn name is cherry blossom (UrLittleCherry), friends with benefits, happy hippie fun poly vibes, curtis’ birthday, partying, alcohol consumption, kissing, masturbation, impact play, fingering, toys, edging, clothed sex, voyeurism, exhibitionism, dirty talk, size kink, manhandling, multiple orgasms, anal, penetrative sex, unprotected sex

word count: 3953

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sugar & spice au masterlist | 101, intro to the au

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The last rays of sunshine for the day streamed in through the half-drawn curtains and cast soft shadows across your form as you sat cross-legged on your mattress. 

With your reach outstretched towards your laptop propped up on the chair situated at the foot of your bed, you clicked on the go live button and watched as a countdown appeared on the screen, overlaying your visage staring back at you as your gaze briefly flickered around to check your gear one last time. 

Thanks to your three roommates who’d insisted on helping you upgrade your setup, there wasn’t just one, but two cameras pointing directly at you. One angle to catch all of your frame and one zoomed-in to capture a perfect close-up between your legs. 

“Hey guys!” a warm smile swiftly dazzled your features as you watched the first few people jump at your notification, “good evening or good–, whatever time of day it is for you.” 

The messages in the chat started rolling in, some with usernames you recognised and some you didn’t. 

TheFrogo: Hi Cherry! How are you? Have you had a good day so far?

DrownByPussy: Omg you’re finally live! I’ve been hard all day knowing I’d get to see you today.

“Hi Frogo, yeah, I’ve had a pretty good day, but I’m hoping that it might get even better, because I’ve got something pretty fun planned for tonight,” your hands absentmindedly fidgeted along the length of your legs as you spoke, “so, today is a friend of mine’s birthday and–, wait,” you paused and leaned in closer to catch a better look of the scrolling messages, “I haven’t seen you write in the chat yet, but birthday boy, if you’re here, you better log off right now or you’ll ruin your surprise,” you warned, glancing straight into the camera, “I’ll give you five seconds get off,” a pointer finger then kissed each of your digits as you counted down, “five… four… three… two… one,” you squinted a moment longer before a giggle bubbled out, “okay, so now that it’s just us, I can tell you what I’ve got planned,” you switched up your seat, moving your legs to comfortably kneel on the mattress with your frame slightly turned at an angle for you to better see the screen, but retroactively grant everyone a view of the curve of your spine as the line swooped down over your waist and blossomed into the plush of your ass, sinfully on display in the pastel blue, mesh lingerie you wore, “there is one thing in particular that he has just been begging for… any guesses?”

A_B_Cunt_Destroyer: Hmm… is it a particular fantasy? A little bit of roleplay action? 

8inchStallion: Threesome? 

“Nope. All fun suggestions, but no.”

TittyCokeKingXXX: Is it to bang in public?

Cream314159: How about anal? 

“Cream! Yes! You guessed it!” you excitedly threw your hands up in the air, “it is anal that he’s been dreaming about.”

Ddadddy6969: I mean, who can blame him.

ItsBradBtch: Fucking same.

TearinYoBootyUp: Wish it was my birthday today so you’d let me fuck your tight little ass.

“So, what I was thinking,” you tilted your head, “was that before I go give him his present, you guys could maybe help me prep a little bit, warm me up and stretch out my ass enough to fit his big fat cock. Would you guys like that?”

KyleKyleson: Yes!

UrPervyDaddy398: Hell yeah, let’s get you ready to take that monster cock.

Casting a glance out of the nearby window, your eye couldn’t help but catch sight of the neighbouring house. It didn’t look like the divorced dad who resided there was home, though you still nevertheless searched for him. You weren’t completely clueless to his infatuation with you, though it had almost turned into a game, always trying to catch him peeping at you through the windows, or even taking it further by purposely wearing something skimpy when you’d go get the mail or other activities where you would know you’d bump into him. You didn’t judge him to be the type of man to ever really do anything about it, to actually reach out and grasp a wet dream of a girl so much his junior, but the teasing had become too much fun for you to stop, you were too far gone to draw the curtains closed now. 

As a quiet jingle sounded from your speakers, indicating that someone had tipped you, your gaze flickered back towards the computer screen. 

A_B_Cunt_Destroyer: Is that the underwear set I bought you off your wishlist? You look even more gorgeous in it than I imagined.

“Oh, thanks A,” you let your palms graze down over the thin mesh, feeling your pussy clench as your touch brushed over your nipples poking through the baby blue material, “yeah, it is. It matches the dress I’m planning on wearing tonight, so I thought I’d be cute.”

Call_Me_Sir_844: Turn around, Cherry. Let us see it from the back.  

“Yes, sir, of course,” you chuckled lightly before shifting around, purposely arching your back as you glanced over your shoulder. 

729AlwaysHard: How is your ass even real?

Like1OfUrFrenchGrls: Damn, that butt is just begging for a spanking.

Raking your touch down your sides, you smirked, “oh, you want me to spank my ass?” before the jingle of a tip echoed from the computer, “alright, baby,” and like a cat, your frame scooped down, gliding on to all fours and sticking your bottom high up in the air, “how many do you think? Let’s say, highest tipper gets to decide, but please, be kind, I still have to be able to dance the night away tonight.”

TittyCokeKingXXX tipped $50 – 10 spanks, with a paddle

BootyLover47 tipped $35 – 4 spanks

MrHansen tipped $100 – 6 spanks 

“Thank you guys,” you wiggled playfully for them, “and Mr. Hansen, wow, thank you so much!” you squeaked ecstatically, “well, I guess I better start counting then.” 

After each smack your palm landed on your propped-up bottom, the coinciding number rolled off your lips till your ass was tingling and sore for all your viewers to see. 

WinterIsCumming: Fuck, just seeing your little pussy through those panties… they’re soaked, aren’t they?

Gliding a hand down between your legs, your fingertips ghosted over the sheer fabric that clung to your core.

“They are, Winter,” you blinked up at the camera, “man, I wish you were here to give me a hand.”

NastyBoi: Show us that pretty little pussy, come on, don’t be shy now.

“You want me to take my underwear off for you? Take them off so that I can really play?”

And with the chimes of tips swiftly ringing in your ears, one of your fingers then hooked in the gusset and carefully peeled it to the side, letting it act as a frame as you momentarily teased them with just a glimpse of your glistening folds, before you slowly slid them off completely. 

Eventually, after your slick digits had gotten a chance to warm you up and tease you till you were practically buzzing on both of the camera angles that now displayed you, as it hadn’t taken you very long till you switched to a split screen, both your face frozen in a silent moan and your pretty holes drooling for attention pressed up against one another, side by side on the stream, your fingers then reached for a toy, the pretty glass dildo you had picked out just before the show.

You first popped the toy in your mouth as you flipped around and relaxed back against your pile of pillows. Letting your gaze flicker over the downright filthy comments rolling across the screen, you sucked on the toy for a bit before pulling it out and letting it float down south. 

“Fuck,” your eyes fluttered slightly as you rubbed the tip gently against your little rosebud, “oh, that feels so good.” 

Cream314159: Yeah, Cherry, tease that little ass like a good slut.

8inchStallion: Fuck, you’re gonna make me blow my load soon if you keep looking like that. 

Ddadddy6969: Has your fuck buddy really never had your ass before? Tbh kinda hard to believe considering what a whore you are for all of us. I love your anal shows, they’re always my favourite. 

“I know, daddy,” a light giggle tore through your form, “I’m honestly kinda surprised as well, but no, it hasn’t happened yet.” 

BongDong420: Wait, are you an anal virgin? Plot twist. 

“No, no, I’m not, I love anal,” you sucked in a gentle gasp as you let just the tip of the toy breach your tight opening, “I just haven’t really done it yet with too many different people. Actually, I’ve only done it with one so far, now that I think about it,” you swiftly shook your head and forced your eyes to flicker to the messages to rid your thoughts of your ex. 

Call_Me_Sir_844: Please open your mouth, I’m gonna cum!

“Oh, yes, please cum for me, sir,” you answered the comment and then let your lips part wide. As your tongue stuck out as well, a string of saliva soon dripped down as you waited, the spit colliding with your tits and running down your cleavage. 

A_B_Cunt_Destroyer tipped $550 – Don’t let yourself cum. Edge yourself so that you can be all drippy and dumb for him like a good little present should be. 

Since you and your roommates lived in a residential area too quiet for college ragers, some of the guys Steve and Bucky were on the football team with offered to throw the bash at their fraternity. 

Music blared, nearly making the entire house rumble, as you walked around the place, searching for the one of your roommates who the party was in honour of. 

Fiddling lightly with the hem of your silky dress as you peeked into the room where a rowdy game of beer pong was afoot, you still felt a little dizzy as desperation soaked through your ruined panties. 

Though, as you checked the kitchen, a bulky frame bumped into you, though it wasn’t just any run-of-the-mill frat boy, incapable of watching where they went, it was the very last person you wished to lay your eyes upon. 

“Y/n, hey,” the trust fund kid caught your arm before you could slip away. 

“Ransom,” you couldn’t help but clench your jaw as you tried to free yourself of his hold, “hello.”

“I didn’t know you were gonna be here tonight.” 

“Why wouldn’t I be here?” you nearly scoffed as you squinted up at him, “it’s my roommate’s birthday party.” 

“Right, forgot you moved in with all of them, became just one of the boys…” as a beat of silence fell over him, he let his gaze then rake over your form, lapping up the soft blue material that draped across your curves, “you look good tonight, by the way.”

“I–…” your eyes fluttered shut as you let out a sigh, “Ransom, can we not? Just for tonight, can we not do all of this? Just let me be here, celebrate my friend, and then after that, if you so wish, we can get back to our regularly scheduled program. Just one night of peace, that’s all I’m asking for.”

His dark brows then furrowed as he cocked his head, “babe, come on–”

Cutting him off with a scoff, you spat, “I haven’t been your babe since you broke up with me.”

He had been all for landing a girl that was essentially a wet dream come true when it came to all of the sinful areas you were itching to explore with him, but what hadn’t been a part of his plans was having a girlfriend who wasn’t exclusively a slut for him and him alone. He’d told you to choose between him and your dirty little hobby, but to his surprise, you hadn’t even hesitated when you didn’t choose him. 

A low sigh then puffed from his lungs, “fine.”

Heatedly ripping your arm free, you echoed, “fine,” before turning on your heel and exiting the kitchen. 

Luckily, your search didn’t drag on too much further before you stumbled upon your celebrated friend. 

“There you are!” you exclaimed, your voice ushering Curtis’ head to twist in your direction, his glance shifting from the pool table before him. 

“Baby!” he swiftly threw open his inked arms and pulled you close, “hey!”

Hearing the heavy balls clank around on the table, you asked, “are you in the middle of a game or could I steal you away for a sec?”

“Nah, not this round,” he withdrew only ever so slightly, letting one of his arms stay draped over your shoulders, “what do you need?”

Pulling him with you in the direction of the wide staircase, you smirked, “I just have a present to give you…”

“Another one?” he blinked as you dragged him up the steps. 

“Well, you deserve the world, so yes, you get another one this year,” you offered him a warm smile. 

“Man,” he exhaled as you reached the upper level, “happy birthday to me,” a smirk spread across his features as he willingly let you push him into one of the rooms. 

It was a study room filled with long communal desks, tall bookcases and velvet armchairs. It was also, thankfully, vacant of any other partygoers. 

“Happy birthday, Curtis,” you didn’t waste any time, the door barely managed to slam behind you, before you yanked him in for a kiss. 

It took him a second before he caught up with your sudden actions, but as soon as he did, a gentle giggle rumbled from his intoxicated form and vibrated against your lips as he enveloped his long arms around your frame. 

Feet shuffling, your roommate soon bumped into one of the tables, lending him to half sit on it as you let your touch rake down his figure. Even with the swift and determined pace your desperation drove you to have, it still didn’t take that long for Curtis to be on the same page as you, and when your palm fluttered down to cup him through his pants, the tent twitched beneath your touch. 

At first, when you then withdrew from the kiss, Curtis instinctively followed your disappearing lips till he noticed your knees buckling as you sank down onto the floor. 

“This is so much better than losing at pool,” he gazed down at you between his thighs, nearly hypnotised as you tugged at his zipper.

“I’d sure hope so,” you nearly scoffed as you freed him of his binds, not hesitating to lean in and swipe your tongue silkily against the very tip of him as soon as you had the chance, “although, you know I never mind being a consolation prize.”

“Consolation prize?” his tone filtered through a soft groan as your fist enclosed around his base, twisting slightly as it jerked up to graze your mouth, “that’s not what you were last week.”

“Yeah, but that was different,” your giggle vibrated against him, “it’s okay, baby. Maybe next time we play at home you’ll get to win and show the others who’s boss,” you purred before your lips enveloped fully around his fat girth. 

When spit and slobber soon bubbled out and dripped down onto your chest from your efforts, you got back up to your feet. As you let the back of your palm wipe a bit of the mess from your chin, you twisted your frame around and let your spine melt back against this broad chest. 

As you felt Curtis’ fingers dig into your dress and hike it up, you rolled your hips back against him, nearly dizzy with want. Gliding a hand down between your thighs, you captured the sodden material, utterly ruined and clinging to your core, before you yanked it to the side, the leaky mess not yet ready to let go of the panties and spiderwebbing to where you pulled it to the side.  

Reaching around, your grip captured his cock once again as you tilted him to teasingly brush through your folds, your activities from earlier made it almost pathetic how sloppy you got him in a matter of seconds. 

As his lips pressed to your cheek in a hot kiss, you glanced over your shoulder to catch his eye and take in his reaction.

You didn’t warn him, nor say anything at all. Only a smirk glimmered on your lips as a forewarning before you led him away from the leaky entrance he naturally assumed you’d let him into, and instead arched your back and eased his slicked-up length into somewhere else. 

“Oh–, holy shit,” his eyes flickered down to affirm what you were doing before blinking up at you in the assumption that it was a mistake, “baby, you’re–”

“I know,” you smiled at the way his chest heaved at the realisation. 

“Wait, seriously?” 

“Told you I had another present for you,” your gloating grin softened at the moan that slipped out as you sank down just a little further upon his dick. 

His fingers dented both sides of your hips as you slowly let him feel more of you, “oh my god, you’re the fucking best…” 

It was shallow at first, gentle as you controlled the pace, though still mind-meltingly intense as you fucked back against him till your knees began to wobble, feeling each and every little detail of his stretch your little ass out. 

You felt his hot breath on the side of your face between the lazy pecks he planted there and occasionally veering further south to try and mark your neck up with his bites. 

“O-oh, fuck,” you whimpered when one of his inked arms snaked around to your front and stretched down to rub your clit, swollen and throbbing between the pads of his rough fingers. 

Since you’d backed away from the edge not too long before, its overwhelming return was swift and quickly rendered you a shivering mess in his arms as your rhythm came to a rest and the tight circles he drew over your puffy pearl pushed you into insanity. 

Eyes still shut as you were panting for breath, you felt Curtis pluck up your chin and tilt it so that his lips could seize yours. 

Though the blissful pause didn’t last very long before he manoeuvred you around, manhandling you into a new configuration, though all the while never slipping his cock out. 

His palm was heavy against your back as he whirled you around and bent you over the table. Cheek smooshed against the smooth wooden surface, the thunderous snap his hips then offered caused the desk to rattle beneath you. 

However, just as you sensed him begin to lose himself, burying his cock so deep inside of you that it caused you to see stars, the creaking sound of the door to the study swinging open sliced through the lewd harmonies already filling the room.

Even though you couldn’t really glance over your shoulder to see who it was that entered, the recognisable voices that then found your ears calmed your worries about why Curtis’ pace for some reason hadn’t slowed down in the slightest. 

“No, I’m not kidding, that’s really what–, oh,” Bucky’s sentence paused as soon he spotted you, “hello you two.”

You attempted to tilt your head against the table as the last of your roommates came into view, shut the door behind them and stepped closer. 

As you reached out a wobbly hand to grasp Steve’s, he sweetly caught it in his and chuckled at your cock drunk visage, “hey.”

“Hmm–, hi…” you attempted to greet them, Bucky swiftly bending down to briefly be at your height, letting his fingers brush some of your hair out of your face as Curtis’ efforts jolted your frame against the table at every feverish thrust. 

“Was wondering where you guys were,” Steve held onto your hand a little longer as his glance met the blissful gaze of the man who was balls deep inside of you, “I thought she already gave you her little present.”

“You knew?” Curtis tilted his chin, to which you tried to explain with a mumble, though one of your roommates didn’t hesitate to playfully ask you to clarify.

“I’m sorry what was that? You’re being too much of whore right now for me to understand you,” Bucky pressed a peck to your brow before straightening back up, “look, I would have totally told you man, but she threatened us not to ruin the surprise.” 

“Yeah, said that if you didn’t get to take a dip first, then none of us ever would,” Steve added. 

“Aw,” you felt Curtis kneed your bottom as he slammed into you, “you’d really have done that?”

“I did say you deserve the world, so yeah,” you managed to squeak. 

“It’s so cute how sappy birthdays make you,” Bucky smirked, “such a shame not one of us even hesitates to exploit it.” 

As one hand stayed glued to the curve of your ass, his thumb hooked in your underwear to grant not only him but the rest a perfect view of just how well you took him, Curtis’ other hand then stretched out to grasp the half-empty beer that Steve handed him, briefly taking a swig before handing it back. 

“Yeah, she really is just such a good little girl, aren’t you?” Steve found a seat on one of the nearby chairs. 

“Mhm…” you barely caught sight of how both of them palmed themselves for an ounce of relief. 

Sitting down as well, Bucky squinted cockily back at you as your hazy eyes briefly caught his, “what was that, sweetheart?”  

“I’m a–,” you blubbered as Curtis’ cock stretched you so wide that you even felt it press against the sweet spots in your throbbing pussy, “I’m a g-good girl–”

“Yes, you are, baby, that’s right,” Curtis chuckled warmly behind you before offering your ass a swift slap, “the fucking best.”

“Oh, oh! She’s so close to cumming, I can see it!” Bucky exclaimed in an almost mocking tone as your eyes began to roll, “just look at that face,” he nearly jumped to get closer, “so fucking pretty.”

“Come on, Y/n,” Steve leaned back in his seat and squeezed his hard-on as he stared at your fucked out form, “give us a good show. Make it good for the birthday boy.” 

Although, unfortunately, you were already too far gone by then to take any of their lewd comments into account as you tumbled over the edge, floating in the sea of your cheering roommates as a soundtrack. 

After your friend had emptied himself into your haven, he simply slid your panties back into place so that his cum could leak out of you for the rest of the party and ruin your sheer underwear completely, perhaps even give up entirely and run down your shaky legs for all to see.

Bending down to smother you back to life with kisses, you also felt Curtis’ arms tangle around you as he hugged you and slowly lifted you off of the table. 

“You wanna go down and dance?” his low timbre tickled the shell of your ear. 

“Just give me a second,” you breathed through your hazy smile as you fought to blink your eyes back open, “my legs will first have to start working again. Maybe you could take over the music for a second and queue up something slow,” you light-heartedly suggested with an airy chuckle. 

“Don’t you worry, baby,” Bucky smirked from across the table, “we’ll help keep you upright.” 

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[krirebr]

Luck Be a Lady

Pairing: soft!dark Curtis Everett x female reader

Word Count: ~10.1k

Summary: Desperate for money, you accept a job as a cocktail waitress at an underground casino. You think you know what you're doing, but when you meet Curtis, will you realize you're in over your head?

Warnings: Mob AU, violence, allusions to murder, explicit language, dubcon touching, noncon touching (not Curtis), willfully oblivious reader, SMUT - facefucking, dirty talk, light d/s dynamics, praise kink, other explicit sexual content. This is definitely on the darker end of the soft!dark spectrum, so proceed with caution! All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Dividers by @thecutestgrotto

Masterlist

A/N: And here it finally is! This is my first real attempt at soft!dark. I hope I did it right! 😂

This was inspired by two things: 1) me going to a rep screening of Goodfellas and spending the entire time wondering why I hadn't done a mob au yet and 2) @bigtreefest saying "enforcer!Curtis Everett and mob boss!Andy Barber" in my general direction. Thanks for the inspo, friend!!

And big thanks as always to @paperweight91 who not only came up with Curtis's name for reader but also offered heaps of encouragement and was a great sounding board. And thanks to @stargazingfangirl18 for helping me figure out how exactly we'd get to the smut. Thanks Siri!

Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think will be greatly appreciated. Please come scream at me about this! 😄 As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜

You fruitlessly tug down your very short skirt as Holly talks at you. You’re both standing in the corner of the bar’s basement waiting for the night to start in earnest—your first night.

“Lloyd’s not so bad,” she says of your boss, the man who runs this little underground gambling ring. “You’ll have to split your tips with him at the end of the night, but he doesn’t take that much, and you’ll make enough that you won’t really notice. As long as you do that, he’ll mostly keep his hands to himself.”

You nod along, glancing at the mustachioed man conferring with the bouncer at the door. The interview process for this job had boiled down to a thorough once-over that’d made you feel naked in your jeans and t-shirt and a “You’re not too stupid to take a drink order, are you?” and then you had the job.

Holly had vouched for you. Neighbors for almost half a year, she’d come home early one morning last week and witnessed you trying to convince the landlord that you were good for your past-due rent. She’d taken you for coffee and told you she might be able to help if you were good at keeping your head down and mouth shut. And now you were here.

“The customers, on the other hand,” she continues, smacking her gum, “you’ll have to let them touch, at least a little bit. Within reason, you know? But if anything gets out of hand, you can just tell Jake at the door and he’ll take care of it.”

“Within reason?” you ask, voice shaking, just the littlest bit, as the pit that started forming in your stomach when you agreed to this grows a little more.

The look she gives you verges on exasperated. “Well, you want to make money, don’t you?”

Yes, you do. Very much so. It’s a need, not a want. So you nod and try to listen as she keeps giving you the rundown. 

Before you’re ready, the first patrons start trickling in and then you’re off to the races. It’s not too bad. No one’s orders are too complicated, mostly just bottles of beer and glasses of straight whiskey. The bartender, Colin, is friendly enough, although you learn that he’s another person you’ll need to split your tips with. 

As for the touching, there are hands on your hips, pats to your ass. But you’re rewarded with folded-up bills held up between fingers or tucked into the strap of your top. Or, twice, slid behind the waistband of your skirt. Once you realize that the majority of these bills aren’t ones or fives, but twenties, you care about the touching that comes with them much less. Plus, you’re too busy to really think about it that hard. 

You can’t believe how busy it is for a random Tuesday night, multiple games of poker, craps, and who knows what else all going at once. But when you mention that to Holly, she just laughs and shakes her head. “This is nothing,” she says. “On the weekends there’ll be three more of us and another one of Jake. Things get wild.” 

You don’t have time to decide whether that makes you nervous or excited before someone is signaling for your attention again. You manage to suppress your grimace when he slides his arm around your waist to tell you what he needs from the bar. You’re rewarded for your troubles by a wad of twenties. You aren’t sure who these men are to tip so freely, but you know better than to look a gift horse in the mouth.

It’s an hour or two later that Lloyd calls you over to where he’s speaking to a large, impossibly broad man, dressed in a soft-looking henley under a leather jacket with dark jeans. There’s dark ink all over his hands that disappears up his sleeves and reappears on his neck in intricate lines. He’s got close-cropped hair and a full beard that’s neatly trimmed. His deep blue eyes drill into you right away and you do your best not to shiver.

“Got a new girl tonight, Everett. Still learning the ropes, but she’ll take good care of you, won’t you, Cupcake?” 

“Yes, of course,” you say, before Lloyd wanders off to check on one of the poker games.

The man, Everett, lets his eyes rove over you. “Cupcake, huh?” His voice is deep, gritty, but there's something there that's much gentler than you expected.

You give him what you hope is a coy smile. “Sure. If you want.” Lloyd was treating him like he's important. You hope important means deep pockets.

He hits you with a penetrative stare, so strong you almost have to take a step back. “No,” he finally says. “I don't think so. I'll find something more fitting.” Then he turns and starts to walk away, before calling over his shoulder. “I'm gonna get dealt in. Bring me a whiskey once I'm settled.”

You watch him go for just a moment, and then head to the bar, asking for a whiskey. 

“This for Everett?” the bartender, Colin, asks. When you nod, he grabs a fancy bottle off the top shelf. “This is all he drinks. And he doesn't pay for it, alright? Don't ever think about giving him a bill.” 

You look back at the man in question, seriously looking at the cards he’s just been dealt. Who is he???

You collect his whiskey and move back to him. As you set it down, he turns to you. “How about this?” he asks as he holds up a crisply folded hundred-dollar bill between two fingers. Your eyes widen at the money. All you’ve done is bring him one straight pour. “There’s another one of these in it for you if you make sure I never see the bottom of this glass tonight. Sound good?” And then he folds the bill one more time in his thick fingers, before sliding it under the low-cut neckline of your blouse. Your skin tingles where he brushes against it.

“Yeah, you got it,” you just breathe out, a little shocked you’re able to form words. He gives you a smug smile that you can only describe as shark-like before turning back to his cards, and you understand it as the dismissal that it is. 

You move around the room, collecting empties, getting refills, trying to goodnaturedly accept unsolicited touches. The whole time you feel eyes on you, but whenever you glance Everett’s way, he’s focused on his poker game.

Eventually, a down moment finds you catching your breath against the wall. The moment Holly sees you standing still, she’s quickly making her way to you. “You need to be more careful around Curtis,” she hisses, lowly.

You look at her, confused. “Curtis?” Jake’s at the door. Colin’s behind the bar. You don’t know a Curtis.

“Curtis Everett!” You glance at the man at the poker table. He’s running a poker chip across his knuckles mindlessly. Then he looks up and you briefly make eye contact before you quickly look away. Holly is staring at you and she looks worried. But the name still doesn’t mean anything to you, so you shake your head and shrug. She groans as quietly as she can. “He’s Barber’s top enforcer!”

This whole conversation feels so out of the blue that it takes you a minute to catch up. Barber. Andrew Barber. The most feared mob boss in the city. Probably the state. Maybe even more. Ruthless and exacting was how the papers described him. He’d been the subject of multiple stings and taskforces and whathaveyou but nothing ever stuck. “He works for Andrew Barber?” you ask, shocked and a little appalled.

Holly stares at you in a way that you can only describe as dumbfounded. It takes her a few moments to find her words, then, “Bitch, you work for Andrew Barber!”

Everything stops. “What?” you gasp.

“Oh my god,” Holly groans. “This was such a mistake. It’s an underground card game in his city! Who did you think was running things?”

“I– I don’t know,” you stutter, stupidly. The god’s honest truth is that you’d never really stopped to think about it. You’d been staring down an eviction, struggling to afford groceries. Unable to make ends meet no matter what you did. When Holly told you about this job, all you saw were dollar signs. You didn't think about anything further. Of course, you’d known these games were illegal, but it seemed so minor in the grand scheme of things. You hadn’t connected it to anything bigger because you just hadn’t wanted to.

But now– Now that you know the truth, what are you going to do? You know what you should do. You should walk out the door right now. You should find some other legitimate way to pay your bills. It’ll be safer. It’ll be better. It’ll be so much harder.

As you bite your lip, trying to process all of this information, Holly continues. “Listen,” she says, “still get him drinks, be friendly, whatever you need to do. But keep your distance however you can. Don't encourage him. He's just– He's really dangerous. They don't call him Barber’s attack dog for nothing, ok?”

“Yeah,” you say. You start to look back in Curtis’s direction but stop yourself. You think about the hundred you already have and the one promised to you at the end of the night. You think of how empty your pantry is. But then you see the genuine fear in Holly's eyes. You let out a shaky breath. “Yeah. I got it. Thanks.”

“He doesn't even come in here that often. I'm surprised to see him tonight, so I'm sure it’ll be fine,” she says, but you can tell she’s nervous.

You nod, absently, finally letting yourself glance over at him. His drink is getting close to the bottom. “Shit,” you mumble. “I gotta get him his refill.”

“Do you want me to do it?” Holly asks. 

You should let her do it. You absolutely should. But you just can’t give up on that tip. You shake your head. “No, I’ll be fine. But thanks.”

You head back to the bar and grab Curtis’s top-shelf whiskey of choice from Colin, then make your way to his table. You set it down next to him, hoping to move away without him even noticing, he’s so engrossed in the game. But as you take a step back, his hand shoots out to grab your wrist. He holds it tightly until you meet his eyes. “Good girl,” he murmurs, and you can’t help the sharp intake of breath or the way you feel his words in your knees. He strokes his thumb down the inside of your wrist, then abruptly lets go, pushing his chips to the middle of the table. You step away, gathering yourself as subtly as you can, and get back to work.

The rest of the night goes quickly. The crowd gets a little rowdier as they drink more, but you find that it’s nothing you can’t handle. The reality of who these people are, what they’re connected to, never leaves your mind. But really, they’re not so bad. None of this feels so bad at all. And soon, people start heading out. You’re beginning to clean up, when a recognizable voice rings out, “Bambi!” You turn and lock eyes with Curtis. He crooks two fingers at you and you quickly make your way over to him.

“Bambi?” you ask.

He grins at you and it feels more than a little predatory. You’ll never admit how much you like it. You try to keep Holly’s warning at the forefront of your mind. “Wide eyes and just getting your legs under you,” he says. You instinctively duck your head at that, which earns a dark chuckle. “Here,” he continues, as he pulls a genuine, fat money clip out of his back pocket. You’ve never seen something like it in real life before. He peels off two bills and holds them out to you. “This is what good girls get,” he says, a low rumble in his voice.

You swallow as you take them from him. Two hundred dollars. Twice what you were expecting. “Thank you,” you say quietly. 

He shakes his head. “You earned it.” Then, after one last long look at you, he turns around and leaves.

You stand and stare after him. You don’t doubt anything Holly said, but three hundred dollars, just for bringing him drinks. He doesn’t seem that bad, not really. A little intense maybe, but there’s some sort of interest there, and it can’t be that bad to encourage it, just a little if it earns you these sorts of tips, can it??

Any hesitance you have about this entire endeavor completely disappears as you count your money at the end of the night.

Your first week flies by. You're starting to get the hang of the job. You get along with your coworkers. You get to know the regulars. You like it. Even Lloyd isn’t so bad as long as you give him his cut at the end of every night.

And you’re making so much money.

In your downtime, you pay your landlord what you owe him. You go grocery shopping without scouring for coupons first or calculating exactly what you can afford beforehand. You make a Pinterest board of what you want your apartment to look like now that you might actually be able to buy things to fill it. For the very first time, you’re thinking about things you actually want, not just desperately trying to figure out how you’ll pay your bills. You’ve never felt this calm, this relaxed, this free before. It’s an incredible feeling.

And Curtis. Despite Holly’s reassurances that you wouldn’t see him much, he seems to be there whenever you are, trying to capitalize on his winning streak at the poker tables, you assume. His tips are still insanely generous. You don’t think he carries anything less than hundred dollar bills. 

And there’s just something about him. The way he looks at you. The way he touches you. It’s not like the other men here. His touch is like fire, warming from the inside. There’ve been times when his hand on your hip has almost made your knees buckle. That doesn’t happen with anyone else here.

But you’re being smart and you’re being safe. You are. You’re going to set a savings goal, you think. And once you hit that number, you’ll be out of here, onto something more legitimate. And until then, you’ll just keep your head down and mouth shut, like Holly said. You haven’t even really seen anything. It’s a good plan. It’ll be fine.

She’s right that the weekends are wilder. Even with three additional girls working the room, you’re kept running. You do your best to keep an eye on Curtis’s drinks, but it’s much harder than on weeknights. And you aren’t really able to pause when you drop them off. It’s one of these times, as you’re pulling away from the table as soon as you’ve set his glass down, that you’re stopped short by his hand on you. He pulls you back in by the wrist and says, “They’re just running you ragged tonight, huh, Bambi?”

You smile and shrug. “It’s busy.”

He holds out a bill and you try not to smile even wider as he slips it into the waistband of your skirt. “For all your hard work.”

You bat your lashes a little. “You spoil me.”

“I like spoiling you,” he says, lowly. 

“You’re too sweet,” you say softly. Then, pulling your arm away with a wink, you add, “Gotta run,” and you’re onto the next table.

You’re getting good at this, figuring out what level of harmless flirting is just enough to keep the money flowing. And you’re having fun. You’d never expected that.

Holly and two of the other girls, Jane and Kristi, are congregated at the end of the bar, waiting for drinks, when you join them. They’re all watching you warily. “So, uh,” Jane starts quietly, “you seem to be getting pretty cozy with Curtis.” 

Before you can respond, Holly scoffs behind her. “I’ve tried to warn her but she won’t fucking listen.”

You roll your eyes. You’re tired of hearing this. “I seriously don’t get what the big deal is. He’s nice and he tips well. It’s harmless!”

Kristi just gapes at you. “He’s nice?!”

Holly slams the drinks she was waiting for onto her tray. “Whatever,” she grumbles. “It’s her fucking funeral.”

You shake your head as you watch her go. It’s fine. You can take care of yourself.

The rest of the night goes by in a blur. You don’t get much of a chance to talk to Curtis, but you feel his eyes on you before he disappears a little before closing.

At the end of the night, once you’ve helped clean up, you cash out with Colin and Jake and then go to find Lloyd in his office. You think it’s kind of ridiculous that you’re basically paying him to work there, but it is what it is. And Holly was right, you’re making so much that you barely even notice. 

Lloyd is sitting at his desk, looking a little more disheveled than you’re used to. He startles at your approach, which is also new. 

“Oh, hey,” he says, with slightly rounded eyes. “What can I do for you?”

You look at him, a little confused. “Just here with your cut,” you say as you hold out his money.

His hands immediately fly up to his chest, palms out. “No, no,” he says. “You made that fair and square. You just– you keep what you make from now on, Cupcake. Sound good?”

You swallow and nod, preparing yourself for whatever other price you’ll have to pay for keeping your job, mentally calculating what you’re willing to do. But Lloyd doesn’t do anything, doesn’t make any move to get closer to you. Just stays there at his desk, turning back to his work. “You have a good night,” he says, clearly dismissing you. 

You leave confused, but richer, telling yourself not to question it too hard.

Things go so smoothly for a few weeks that you’re a little shocked when the bubble bursts. 

It’s a relatively quiet weeknight. There are a few games going, but nothing compared to the weekend. The pace of the night feels leisurely. It’s nice.

It’s maybe the first night you haven’t seen Curtis there. It feels weird. He’s become such a part of this place for you. A fixture, like the bar or the carpet. Just one of the elements that make it what it is. But it’s fine. Of course, he doesn’t come every night. He probably has a whole life outside of this. He must’ve gotten bored of playing cards. Oh well. It was nice while it lasted.

You’re passing the time talking to one of the regulars at the bar, Vinny. He’s in his fifties, you think, with gray hair and laugh lines. He’d gone bust at the poker table (or maybe it was craps tonight) earlier and then had moved to the bar to drink away his sorrows and bad luck. That was how his nights tended to go.

He’s sitting on a barstool, his arm around your waist where you stand next to him. He’s a little close for comfort, but he’s always just been a friendly guy, so you’re alright. Which is why you’re so surprised when, in the middle of a story about the good old days of the Copa Cabana, his other hand suddenly finds its way between your thighs. You freeze. For just a second. Then you force out a laugh and try to push his hand away. “Bad boy,” you try to tease, your voice shaking. His hand will not move. What is happening? “Come on, let’s keep our hands to ourselves.”

Instead of doing what you’ve asked, his thumb briefly brushes the inside of your leg and then his whole hand begins moving higher. You stop breathing. You push again but he won’t budge.

“You’re such a pretty doll, aren’tcha?” he says. 

Tears start to gather in your eyes. You look around wildly to see if anyone’s noticing what’s happening. Colin’s busy making drinks. Jake and Lloyd are talking by the door. Everyone else is engrossed in their own business. “Vinnie, stop, please,” you whisper. You don’t know why you can’t get your voice to work, can’t get your body to move.

“Come on,” he cajoles, “I’m being nice, aren’t I?” 

Then his thumb brushes against your panties and your entire body jolts into action. You wrench your leg out of his grasp and take several steps away from him. Your whole body is shaking now. “I gotta–” you start, trying to keep your tone casual and failing miserably. “I gotta get back to work, Vinny.” Then you grab your tray off the bartop and walk away as fast as you can.

You don’t really have a destination in mind. You pick up a few empties as you wander between tables. You can feel his eyes on you, following you. You try to take a deep breath, calm yourself down. It isn’t very helpful. You look up to see Jake by himself now. You make your way over to him, Holly’s words on your first night in your ears. That was out of hand, wasn’t it?

He looks up as you approach. His big golden retriever smile on his face. “Hey, what’s up?” Then he actually takes you in and his smile drops. “What happened?”

“Um, Vinny, he, uh–” You feel a few tears fall down your cheeks and you just shake your head.

Jake’s face darkens. “Did he hurt you?” 

“No, uh, he– he just–” You shake your head again. “No, he didn’t hurt me.”

Jake doesn’t say anything for a moment, just looks at you. There’s something about the way he does it that makes you think he understands everything you just can’t say. He nods once. “Alright. I’ll take care of it. You go take your time in the back. Do what you need to do. He’ll be gone by the time you’re done.”

You let out a shaky breath. “Okay, thank you,” you say so quietly. Then you get yourself to the back room as quickly as you can.

It’s really more of a hallway than a room, small and narrow. All of the storage space for the building is in the legitimate bar upstairs. But there’s enough room for you to crouch down, your knees pulled up tight to your chin. You bury your face in your thighs and let the tears you’ve been holding in finally fall. You’re okay. You’re okay. You’re safe. You’re fine. 

You don’t know how long you’ve spent trying to calm yourself down when a large shadow suddenly looms over you. It takes you a moment to gather your strength to find out who it is. You hope it’s Jake telling you Vinny’s gone. You’re afraid it might be Lloyd, here to tell you to get back to work. There’s a slowly building terror that it might be Vinny himself.

After a deep breath, you look up to find Curtis staring down at you, concern on his face and fiery anger in his eyes. “What happened?” he growls.

You shake your head and turn away. He crouches down in front of you. “Are you alright?”

A humorless, uncontrolled laugh escapes you. Once you finally stop, you ignore his question and ask your own, “Why are you here?”

It takes him a very long time to answer. He just looks at you seriously for several moments. Then, finally, “Jake called me.” While you try to figure out why on earth Jake would do that, he continues, “I'm sorry I wasn’t already here.”

“Why?” you blurt out without thinking. 

He looks away without saying anything. You both just sit in the silence for a few moments. Then, you try to change tactics. “Where were you?” you ask out of morbid curiosity. You can't imagine what his life is like outside of here.

“Working,” he says curtly. He plays with a ring on his middle finger and the movement draws your eyes to his hands, specifically his knuckles. They're scraped and caked with dried blood. 

You swallow and you catch how his eyes track the movement. His eyes are always on you. He catches everything. 

“Someone touched you?”

“Lots of people touch me,” you say, flatly. “It's part of the job. You touch me.”

His eyes narrow at that. “But this was different.” It isn’t a question.

You look down at your hands in your lap and don't say anything. 

“Tell me who it was.”

“No,” you say instinctively, something about the moment feeling incredibly dangerous. 

He huffs in frustration. “Are you trying to protect him?”

“No!” you say, sharply. “I’m protecting myself.”

“You don’t have to do that. Not from me. Not ever.”

You don’t know how to tell him that every atom in you knows that that isn’t true. You can’t explain it, and it wasn’t until the moment he joined you in this little closet, but you’d swear that he’s a danger to you. You just can't articulate how, but you feel it in your bones. And still, here you stay.

At your silence, he grits out, “If you don’t tell me who it was, Jake will.”

Jake probably already has, that’s what you’ve figured. “Great,” you say. “Then you don’t need me to say it.”

“Bambi,” he lets out in an exasperated growl. “I'm trying to help you.” 

You just look at him and then figure you may as well ask the main question that's on your mind. “Why did Jake call you?” 

He ignores you and stands up. “Come on,” he says and extends his hand, “I'm taking you home.”

You just blink up at him. “My shift isn't over.” 

He shakes his hand at you impatiently. “It is now. Come on.”

You shake your head. “Curtis, this is my job. I can't just– Lloyd will–”

“I'll take care of Lloyd. Let’s go.”

You think about going home. About sitting alone in your small apartment. At least here you'll have something to do, things to focus on, to keep you busy. At home, there'll be nothing to think about other than that hand between your legs and– “No,” you say as firmly as you can manage. “I'm staying here. I'm finishing the night.”

His jaw ticks but he doesn’t say anything, just tries to stare you down. You stare right back. You will not concede this. 

Finally, he exhales through his nostrils, then growls out an unhappy “Fine. But I'll–” He's interrupted by his phone ringing in his pocket. He takes it out and glances at the caller ID and sighs. “I have to take this.” He steps away as much as he can in the tiny area and answers with a curt “Everett.” There's a slight pause. “Yeah, I took care of it.” Another pause that has him glancing at you. “No, something else came up.”

You don't wait to hear the rest of the conversation. You take the opportunity to go back to the main room and get back to work. 

You don't see Curtis again that night. You don't spare much thought to where he might've gone. You're too focused on getting through the remainder of your shift. When it's done, Jake insists on seeing you home. You don't ask why. You already know who's behind it.

The next few days are fine. You try to put what happened behind you, doing your best to ignore it. But that becomes impossible when three days after the incident you watch Vinny walk in. You can’t help the little burst of panic you feel as you warily watch him sit down at his usual table and get dealt in. 

As subtly as you can, you make your way over to Jake. You don’t even say anything before he’s looking at you, chagrined. “I know,” he says. “I’m sorry, but I had to let him in. I promise it’s all going to be taken care of. It’s just– You can ignore him tonight, ok? Just trust me. You don’t need to worry about him. I promise.”

“Ok,” you say reluctantly, trying to resist looking back at Vinny. “I just– I didn’t think I’d have to see him again.”

“I really think that after tonight you won’t,” he says sincerely.

You don’t really understand what that means, but you nod anyway. “Ok,” you say. “I, uh, I should get back to work then.” 

He just nods after you, looking a little concerned and a little sad. But the room is filling up, so you don’t have time to delve into it.

Sometime later, as you’re taking a brief moment to idle by the bar, a strange hush descends over the room. You’re facing away from the door, away from the rest of the room, but you see Colin take in whatever it is that’s caused this. His face pales and he lets out a quiet, urgent, “Shit.” 

You turn around to see what on earth could be going on and you immediately freeze. Curtis is here. But that’s not what’s garnering all of this attention. Well, not all. Because he’s not alone, there’s a man with him. A little shorter, not quite as broad. But you’d be able to feel the power radiating off of him, even if you didn’t recognize him. Soft dark hair, thick beard, an immaculately tailored suit. You’ve seen him in the papers, on the news, but in real life, he’s even more intimidating. Andrew Barber.

Barber leans in close to say something to Curtis, who nods, eyes scanning the room until they land on you. Your breath catches, but luckily Colin calls your name behind you and you have an excuse to turn around. He places two glasses of dark liquor on the bar. “Everett,” he says, gesturing to one, then “Barber,” while waving his hand over the other. “Got it?” You nod and place them on your tray. They’re identical to your eyes except for the fact that Barber's has a muddled black cherry at the bottom of the glass.

You carefully bring them over, trying to force yourself to breathe. Curtis intercepts you and grabs the drinks when you're a few steps away. “Thank you, Bambi,” he says, lowly. 

Barber perks up. “This is Bambi? Really?” He extends a hand and you have no choice but to take it. “Andy Barber,” he says with a disarming smile. “It's a pleasure to meet you finally.”

His handshake is firm, demanding. He is terrifying in his friendliness. And he knows who you are. Has known, for who knows how long. You glance at Curtis, but he's just calmly drinking his whiskey. You don't know what to say, what are you supposed to say?? So after too long a pause, you practically whisper, “Thank you, Mr. Barber.”

He chuckles lightly as he takes back his hand. To Curtis, he says, “You're right, Bambi does suit her.” Then he turns back to you and adds, “Andy, please.”

“O– Okay, Andy,” you say, with what you desperately hope is a benign smile. You look over at Curtis, you’re not entirely sure why, but out of these two dangerous options, he, at least, is familiar. “I should get back to work.”

Curtis is staring at you, but it’s Andy who answers. “Mmm, and we have a game to join, don’t we?” Curtis nods but still doesn’t break his gaze. Andy smirks, “No rest for the wicked.”

You have no idea what to do with that sentiment, so you take the opportunity and get out of there. You walk through the tables, checking to see if anyone needs anything, but the mob boss’s physical presence seems to have ground all action to a halt. The room is collectively holding its breath. 

You go back to the bar for want of anything else to do. Colin is standing ramrod straight, coiled in case he needs to spring into action. Lloyd is sitting down at the end of the bar, drumming his fingers, eyes moving all around the room. You settle next to Holly, who looks just as scared as she did that first night when she was trying to warn you off of Curtis. “Is this,” you start to ask, your voice shaking. “Is this normal? Does he come here a lot?”

“No, never” she shakes her head. “Why would he come here? He has real clubs and restaurants. He doesn’t need to hang out in a shit hole like this.” She shakes her head again. “He’d only come here for a reason.”

You turn your head back to the room and find that Andy and Curtis have settled at Vinny’s table, joining his game across from him. Your heart lands in your throat. That can’t– No. You’re just some cocktail waitress. Even with Curtis’s obvious interest in you, you aren’t important enough to bring the most powerful man in the city here. You’re nothing. He must have other reasons.

The room is quiet enough to hear a pin drop as everyone waits for something to happen, which is why when Andy does start speaking, you don’t have to strain your ears to pick up every word.

He looks at his cards carefully, then over at Vinny. “You know, Vinny, you’re a hard man to track down.” His voice is so calm, it sends a chill up your spine. “You don’t go home, we can’t find you at work. I was starting to get worried.” He runs a few chips through his fingers before tossing them into the center of the felt. “That’s why, when I heard you were showing up here, I sent my best man to investigate,” he nods towards Curtis, “just to make sure you were ok.” 

You don’t have a great view of Vinny from where you’re standing, but you can see how stiff he is, how silent. But he still calls when it’s his turn.

“You can imagine my relief when I found out you were alright. Except,” he raises again, a few more chips into the pot, “you’re losing a lot of money, aren’t you? Now, this upsets me. Not because you’re losing your own money. But because it’s mine, isn’t it?”

Vinny finally tries to pipe up. “Andy, hold on. I can ex–”

“You owe me $150,000, Vinny. With interest, that total’s climbing every day. And yet, you sit here and you just keep losing, don’t you? At my own game. What would you do if you won, huh? Would you really try paying me back with my own money? I thought maybe you’d at least have the smarts to cross the border and try this at one of Roger’s casinos. Huh? Paying me back with my enemy’s money, at least that I could respect. But no, it’s only me you think is stupid enough to fall for your bullshit. So now I’m here to give you the chance to fucking do it to my face.” With that, he violently pushes all of his chips into the center of the table. 

Everyone else has folded. It’s just Barber and Vinny now. You’re not sure Curtis even actually played. He’s just staring Vinny down, although occasionally his eyes will flick up and meet yours. You hate feeling like you’re a part of this, but you don’t know what else to do besides watch it play out.

Vinny is just spluttering, while Andy calmly looks on. It’s all the expected, cliche stuff you’ve seen in gangster movies. He’s got the money, he swears. He just needs a little more time. Andy has to know he’s good for it! You want to roll your eyes right along with Andy.

“Call, Vinny,” Andy cuts him off, sternly. “That’s $150,000 I just put in the pot. Call. And if you win, we’re even. Your debt’s erased. But if you lose, well then that’s $300,000 you’ll owe me. And you know I won’t be able to tolerate that. So call. And let’s find out where we stand.”

You can’t see what Vinny’s doing, but you can imagine the way his fingers must be hovering over his chips, his eyes moving down to his cards to check, one more time, if they’re as good or bad as he remembers. You know there’s no way out for him either way. He’ll have to call. He’s just delaying the inevitable.

You feel like you can't breathe as you wait for him to just finally do it, but Andy cuts in again. “The thing I can't understand, Vinny, is why you kept coming here after Curtis showed up. Either you're very stupid or really fucking greedy.” He looks at Vinny carefully. “Maybe a little of both. I hear you've been touching something that doesn't belong to you.”

You gasp. No one notices, but you do. He can't be talking about you. He can't. He can't. 

Vinny seems even more confused than you. “What are you talking about? I haven't touched anything!”

Andy continues to ignore him. “So you're stupid and greedy. That's why you aren't afraid of him like you should be. They call him my attack dog, did you know? Have you heard that? Maybe that’s the problem. Maybe you think he’s some puppy that follows me around. You’d be stupid to underestimate him, underestimate me. But maybe you only do that because you've never seen my dog off his leash.”

Curtis springs into action, lunging across the table to grab Vinny by the collar, and then slams his head into the felt. Before there’s even time to react, he’s stood and he's picking Vinny back up and hurling him onto the floor. Curtis comes around the table to stalk after him and the look on his face has you gasping for breath. You've never seen Curtis like this. There's a glint in his eye that might be the scariest thing you've ever seen. Who is this man? What is he capable of?

Vinny is dazedly trying to crawl away, but Curtis catches him easily. He grabs Vinny’s collar and hauls him back up, delivering two punches to his face in quick succession. The sound it makes. There's no other sound in the whole room. No one's saying anything, no one's doing anything. Everyone's just watching, hypnotized. You turn away, your stomach churning. Your eyes catch on Andy, sitting back in his chair, placidly drinking the whiskey you brought him, completely relaxed, like he's watching anything else. You can't look at him either. 

The room is completely silent except for the crunching of bones, Vinny’s whimpers, and Curtis’s grunts. You look up again to be startled by eye contact with Curtis. His eyes are wild, unhinged. Feral. But there's something else in it, like all of this is for you. That all of you are there, everything is happening, because Vinny dared to touch you. It takes your breath away. It’s mesmerizing.

Andy finally stands and strides over to where Curtis is holding Vinny up in the middle of the room. He looks down at Vinny, then spits in his face. “I'm tired of trying to draw blood from a stone,” he says. Then he turns to Curtis and finishes, “Get rid of him.”

Curtis gives you one last long look, his face unreadable. You feel it in your knees. Then he drags Vinny out, leaving a bloody trail behind him.

The moment they're gone, it's like the entire room can breathe again. “Lloyd,” Andy calls out. “How ‘bout a round for everyone? On me.”

Lloyd nods to Colin who hurriedly starts pouring drinks. And you, so grateful for something to do, instead of just standing there, shaking, start loading the glasses on your tray.

As you begin to pass them out, Andy of all people, pulls you aside. “Bambi,” he says quietly, “I hope you know now, we take care of our own.”

You gaze at him, shocked. It feels like a comfort and a threat. But why? It's not so much the implication that this all had something to do with you, but you can't for the life of you imagine what you've done to get yourself to a place where Andy Barber might consider you his, however distantly. It can't just be that you work here. You can't picture him doing something similar for Holly or Colin. Once again, this all feels so incredibly dangerous. 

While you're struggling to come up with anything to say to that, he grabs a drink off your tray and downs it quickly. Then, with a wink, he turns and leaves. You’re left staring after him until someone calls after you and you're scrambling to pass out drinks again. 

The night ends quickly. No one seems eager to stay and drink and play after everything that's happened. Not when there's still blood on the floor.

You do what you can to help clean up, but when you stare at the stain helplessly, Lloyd tells you not to worry about it. He's got a guy.

Colin walks out with you so you aren’t in the parking lot alone. You're grateful. You're still so shaken. As you approach your car, your beater that you still don’t quite have the money to replace, you see someone leaning against it. You stop short, looking to Colin for help, but he just keeps walking to his own car, his head down. That’s when you know it’s Curtis. 

You take a deep breath and then force yourself to keep walking towards him. You can't begin to parse how you feel to see him now. Your keys are ready in your hand like you might just get in and drive off without speaking to him. You know you won’t.

When you reach him, his voice is rough as he asks, “Are you ok?” He’s cleaned up. There’s no more blood on his hands, his clothes have been straightened.

You open your mouth to answer, even though you have no idea, so instead what comes out is “Did you kill him?”

“Did you want me to?” is his immediate reply.

It stops you in your tracks as all sorts of feelings come bubbling up, ones you can not, will not examine. This is about his propensity for violence, how terrifying he became, not– No. “Did you?” you insist. 

He looks at you carefully then shakes his head. “I don't think you actually want me to answer that.”

“But you've killed before?” You can't stop yourself from pressing, from pushing. You don’t know why. 

He just sort of smiles, gently almost, in a way that is deeply unsettling. “You need to stop asking questions you aren’t ready for me to answer, Bambi.” And it’s the way he says the nickname, like you really are that babe in the woods, just born with no knowledge of the world around you, that has your hackles rising.

“Andy called you his dog,” you say, like he should be offended.

To your surprise, he laughs, his head thrown back. Then he takes a step closer to you, and you take the opportunity to sneak in behind him, get to your car. You realize your mistake immediately when he turns back around and cages you in, your back pressed against the driver’s side door. “Everyone calls me his dog. Because he’s the civilized man in the designer suit, and I’m the animal just begging for a reason to slip my leash.”

Your heart pounds wildly in your chest. You should get into your car. You should drive away as fast as you can. You should never come back. But you don’t. “You did it for him,��� you say, mustering all the strength into your voice that you can. “You didn’t do it for me.”

He leans over you, the space between you shrinking rapidly. “Yeah, he asked me to do it,” he nods. “But if he hadn’t, I still would have done it. For you.”

 You try to shake your head, to tell him that that can’t be true, even as a wild, loud part of you starts to rise up and claw out of your chest. You try to tamp it down, deny it, but before you can, Curtis is leaning in further, his whole body pressing against you, and then he covers your lips with his.  

There’s a heat that comes up out of him that fills you, the instant his skin touches yours. His hands are on you, your neck, your hip. You can’t keep track, can only say that his hands are there, everywhere, that his body touches all of yours, that his lips and his tongue are demanding, unrelenting. You are burning up from the inside.

Too soon, but ages later, he pulls away. His eyes are on fire as he looks at you. Then he tears his gaze away, and hits the roof of your decrepit car twice, looking at it disdainfully. “You get home safe,” he says, then steps back to allow you the space you need to get into your car.

You do what he wants you to do. You get in your car, sit in the driver’s seat, and then stare blankly out the windshield. You’ve never felt so out of control in your life. How did this happen? You were flirting for tips, that was all! You encouraged it for money, that was it, and now– You press your thighs together, trying not to pant. You will not be unmoored. 

A slight movement in your periphery makes you notice that Curtis is still standing just to the side of your car, watching you. You turn your keys in the ignition and shift into drive.

It doesn’t mean anything it doesn’t mean anything it doesn’t mean anything, you chant to yourself all the way home.

It’s your next shift back, and everything seems to have changed. You don’t understand it. You keep doing laps of the room, keep sidling up to regulars you were so friendly with just a few nights ago, but now, they won’t even look at you, let alone touch you. No one’s ordering anything.

Or at least, they aren’t ordering from you.

Holly has been running around nonstop all night, basically having to take care of the entire room by herself. You watch man after man after man slip her little bundles of money. 

You want to scream. What the fuck happened? What did you do? What are you going to do?

You go to stand by the bar to wait for something you can do. Colin gives you a brief nod of acknowledgment but that’s it. He’s been cold, too. No. Not cold, distant. You don’t understand what’s changed.

You take a deep breath. It’s one weird night. Things will be better tomorrow.

Things don’t get better. The next night is the same. You’re starting to panic. This job was supposed to be your lifeline. Without it, without the money you were making, you’re not sure how you’ll survive.

Curtis comes in after a couple of hours of nothing. You could cry you’re so happy to see him. But terrified too. If he gives you the cold shoulder, this job really is over. But you have no idea how he’s going to act, not after what happened last time. You’re not sure how you’re going to act either. You can still feel his lips on yours.

You bring him his whiskey immediately and he greets you with an arm around your waist, pulling you in. “Hey Bambi,” he says quietly. Then he gets a good look at you. “What’s wrong?” 

You look at him carefully, not sure what to confide. You aren’t even sure what the problem is. You shake your head. “Not my best night,” you say with a tired smile. “But I’m fine.”

He stares at you for a moment, then stands up. “Come on,” he says, grabbing your hand and leading you to the little back room. You feel eyes on the two of you the whole way there.

Once he’s closed the door behind you both, he asks again, “What’s wrong?”

You sigh. “The last two nights have been weird here. I don’t– I don’t know. I’m just worried. I don’t know what happened but I’m not making any tips. No one’s treating me like they used to.”

“Mmm,” Curtis hums thoughtfully. “I think,” he says as he takes two steps closer to you, which in this small space is significant, “everyone else here has figured it out.”

It’s suddenly a little hard to breathe with him standing over you like this. His presence, his attention is always so much. “Figured what out?” you ask, confused.

“That I have lost my patience for watching other men touch you.” 

It hits you like a freight train. “What?” It comes out in a whisper.

“I’ve let this go on for too long,” he says, his voice is calm, casual. “I don’t want you working here anymore. This is done.”

“I– What? Curtis. What?! I have to work! I have to pay my bills! I don’t understand. I don’t–”

He takes one last step forward. You feel the heat coming off of him. “Shh,” he soothes, cradling your cheek in his hand. “It’ll be alright. I’ll take care of you. I take care of what’s mine.”

You pull your face away, even as the urge to nuzzle into him is so strong. You feel like you’ve missed something, a thousand things. You feel too many steps behind. “Curtis, I’m not– I’m not yours.”

Something comes into his eyes and you’re reminded of him standing over Vinny, covered in blood. His hand travels down from your cheek. He strokes your throat once, and then his hand closes around it. “Look me in the eye,” he growls, “and say that again.”

His hand is firm, snug, but it doesn’t tighten. But you can imagine so easily how it might. You look him in the eye. You open your mouth, ready to say it again. But then– then you see it. In the way he looks at you, the way he’s always looked at you. You feel it in his grip on you, now. You can’t deny it anymore. 

Curtis shoves you into his bedroom. You’re panting already. You need his hands on you, right now. You don’t have to ask for it. He gets you to the center of the room and yanks down your skirt, tearing it in the process. You step out of it and take your blouse off, throwing it on top of your skirt. Curtis’s eyes are cataloging your body, the swell of your breasts spilling out of your bra, your soft tummy, thick thighs. His gaze, as always, takes your breath away.

You reach out for Curtis’s shirt, but he grabs your hands. “I want you on your knees,” he growls and you immediately kneel for him. He throws off his shirt, revealing the expanse of his chest, the muted blacks and grays of his tattoos. You’re desperate to run your hands over them, trace the art, but instead, they just twitch at your side. He'll tell you what you're allowed to do.

He begins unbuttoning his jeans and your mouth drops open. He chuckles darkly. “Perfect little slut.” He takes his phone out of his back pocket and aims it at you, taking a picture as you gaze up at him under your lashes, your mouth wide open. “I've been dreaming of getting you on your knees for me.” He puts his phone on his dresser, then continues taking off his pants. “You ready to choke on my cock, baby?”

“Please,” you whine. You're practically salivating now. His bare thighs are as thick as tree trunks, the muscles corded. His abs ripple as he moves. His shoulders, his back. You want.

He frees his cock and rolls his black boxer briefs down his legs, stepping out of them. It's long and thick, just like the rest of him. Your breath catches. You don't think you've ever taken something that big before.

He takes a few steps so he's completely in your space, his cock bobbing right in front of your face. He takes it in one hand, the other firmly on the back of your head and slowly feeds the tip into your mouth. You taste his musk on your tongue. As he rocks into your mouth, going a little further each time, your hands come up to grasp his thighs. On his next thrust in, you run your tongue along the underside of his dick. His movements stutter just a little and then he looks down at you, a smirk overtaking his face. It's just a touch mean, in a way that has you soaking your panties. “You ready?” he asks, his voice rough. And then without waiting for the answer, he thrusts in all the way, making you take him deep in your throat.

You flail, slapping his thigh as you try to swallow around him, breathing frantically through your nose. After holding you there for a moment, he sets a brutal but steady pace. It takes you a moment, but you find your rhythm, your panic subsiding. Once you feel steady, you lift one hand from his thighs and bring it up to cradle his balls. “Fuck, Bambi,” he grinds out. “You're gonna– I– fuck!” His hand moves from the back of your head down to the back of your neck, which he grips firmly, pulling you off his cock. As you cough and splutter on the floor, he growls, “The first time you make me come is gonna be inside that perfect cunt.”

He helps you stand on wobbly legs, then shoves his hand between your legs, cupping your pussy over your panties. “Shit, fucking soaked just from deepthroating me?”

You let out a needy little whine, trying to push further into his hand, but he withdraws it, instead settling on your hip. “Well,” he grins, “if they’re ruined anyway…” then uses that hand to rip the black lace down the side, letting them fall to the floor. He makes quick work of your bra as well, then takes a step back and sighs, “Shit, Bambi, look at you.” It’s the reverence in his voice and on his face that has you launching yourself at him, unable to keep from kissing him any longer. He lets you, quickly taking control, letting you feel all his hunger, the want he’s kept barely bottled up since he first laid eyes on you. You understand it all now. His erection brushes against you, and now it’s his turn to whine, just a little. 

He pulls away, brushing a hand down your cheek, then says “Get on the bed, on your stomach.” You quickly comply, laying in the center of the bed with your knees pulled up and spread beneath you. He brings his hand down on one asscheek harshly and you can’t help the lewd moan that escapes you. He chuckles, “Oh, I will definitely remember that for later.” He grabs your hips and cants them up, then whistles at your exposed cunt. “I knew it. Absolutely beautiful.” Then he unceremoniously shoves two fingers into your hole and you choke on nothing. “Shh,” he coos. “You can take it. My cock’s gonna be a lot thicker.” 

As he starts scissoring his fingers inside you, you can’t hold it in any longer and start babbling. Mostly a combination of “please,” and “Curtis,” and “I need,” over and over.

“I know, baby,” he says as he pulls his fingers out of you. “I’ve got what you need right here.” You have a brief moment to feel the tip of his cock on your pussy lips before he’s thrusting it into you, as far as he can go without making it hurt. 

“Oh my god,” you cry, pressing your forehead into the mattress and balling his dark blue sheets in your hands. You feel so full. It’s so good. He’s working himself into you as quickly as he can, desperate now. You both are. Once he bottoms out, fully seated in you, he pauses. Then with one hand on your stomach and the other around your neck, he pulls you up onto your knees, your back flush to his chest. You cry out at the new angle; he’s somehow even deeper now. He starts thrusting up into you at a punishing pace. You’re bouncing up and down in his firm grasp. The hand on your neck turns your head to face him, his lips brushing against yours. He holds eye contact with you as the hand on your stomach snakes down your pelvis so his thick fingers can begin circling your clit. “Fuck! Curtis, please!” you shout. 

“Yeah, come on,” he breathes, “you can let go. You can do it. Come for me like a good girl.” It’s those words that send you careening over the edge, your cunt pulsing around his cock, squeezing him until he’s coming too with a grunt, filling you up until both your cum is leaking out around him. 

He holds you there, on your knees, as you both come down, your twin pants all you can hear.

You wake up slowly, the sun shining on you through the soft drapes. You start to shift then groan at how stiff you are. The night before comes back to you. Curtis took you two more times before you both collapsed in satisfied exhaustion. He’s still out like a light beneath you. 

You take a moment to look at him. It’s odd to see him so peaceful, so still. There’s nothing of the feral predator he projects to the world. It makes you feel oddly close to him, seeing him like this.

You carefully get up without disturbing him and begin collecting your clothes. You put on your bra, but there’s no saving your panties. Same for your skirt; it’s ripped along the seam. So instead you pick up Curtis’s t-shirt from last night and put it on. It smells like him. You breathe it in shamelessly knowing there’s no one to witness it.

You savor the soreness as you move out of the bedroom. It’s like you can still feel him inside you, how much he wanted you, needed you. It makes you feel a little powerful, having that effect on a man like him.

You make your way into his living room. You didn’t really have a chance to look at his house last night, as determined as he was to get you into the bedroom. If you’d ever thought to picture it, this wouldn’t be far off. It’s all rich blues and greens and grays, leather and dark wood. Masculine. It suits him. 

As you’re admiring the room, you hear footsteps behind you and then two big arms are encircling your waist, pulling you into him. “Good morning,” he rasps. 

You turn your head to him. “Good morning,” you say with a smile.

“Fuck, Bambi, you’re even hotter in my shirt than you were last night.”

You smirk at him even as your face heats. “Mmm,” you hum. “It’s comfy. You might not get it back.” He nuzzles into your neck as you continue. “I was hoping you might have something I could wear for bottoms, too. You destroyed my skirt.”

His beard roughly drags against your skin as he asks, “Why the hell would I let you wear bottoms?”

You laugh. “Because I have to leave the house, Curtis.”

“No, you don’t,” he says as his hand begins to move between your thighs.

You playfully swat him away, even as you feel yourself getting wet again from his attention. “I have to go home.”

“Why? You’re staying here.” It’s how certain he sounds that has you turning around in his arms.

“What?”

“I don’t like your building. It isn’t safe enough. Now that I finally have you, of course, I’m going to keep you here with me.”

Once again, you feel too many steps behind. You just blink at him, confused. How does he even know where you live??

He takes your chin in his hand, his fingers gentle. “I told you, Bambi, I take care of what’s mine.”

Tag list

@stargazingfangirl18 @yenzys-lucky-charm @thezombieprostitute @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @bval-1 @km-ffluv @texmexdarling @ladyvenera @roxyfan14-blog @darkserenity24 @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @ronearoundblindly @brandycranby @midnightramyeoncravings

[buckets-and-trees]

I'm Your Man Collection

a short series featuring Andy Barber as a soft dark mafia boss who set his sights on you and never plans to let you go

While Andy Barber was well-known in Boston, there are whispers of a darker side, but few know the depths of his darker side. He's successful, he's charming, he's generous, and you're about to find out just how dangerous he can be.

Content Warnings: [check individual parts for their respective warnings] DUBIOUS CONSENT, extortion, explicit smut: oral (female and male receiving), vaginal fingering, vaginal intercourse, spitting, dom/sub undertones, breeding kink, unprotected sex, dacryphilia, somnophilia, financial spoiling

COLLECTION:

I'm Your Man [3k]

Morning Radiance [750]

Prepare for Takeoff [1.5k]

Don't Look Too Far [6.4k]

ask: a moment on your honeymoon [350]

Make Her Glow [1k]

EXTRAS: ↠ will Andy let the reader work? ↠ what if Andy were forced into marriage with the reader?

[chxrryhansen]

౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ Cherry’s Cevans Series Rec List

thought i’d make a list of all the best cevans (characters) series i have read!! i have lots more to add and will continue to update this list🫶🏻 i will also create a one shot fic rec list in the near future💖💘💞

Preying On You Tonight - @evansbby

“Steve is the cocky, brash and domineering alpha who makes your life at university a living hell every day. You’re the complete opposite - quiet, meek and reserved. You’re convinced Steve hates you, but what happens when he finds out you have a boyfriend? (a/b/o dynamics)”

Wicked Games - @evansbby

Ari is the campus fuckboy and you’re his little plaything. But he’s telling the truth when he says he’s going to make you his girlfriend soon, right?

What A World - @onsunnyside

S.H.I.E.L.D. had a lot of secrets, you just never expected one of them to be an actual person—a blue-eyed giant, wild manbeast at that. [tarzan!Steve Rogers x doctor!reader, nomad!steve, size difference]

Just Because I Won’t Die For You, Doesn’t Mean I Won’t Kill For You - @dbnightingale24

Lloyd Hansen is just another job for you. Your last job. However, when he decides that he wants to take you for a ride and have a good time, well...how’s a girl supposed to say no?

Closer To Heaven And Closer To You - @georgiapeach30513

When your boyfriend, Ransom wants to take a trip back home to the ranch to meet your family, you are unsure.  Knowing that a rodeo is in town could only mean your ex, Frank Adler, was most likely riding for eight seconds, still trying to beat his best friend, Steve Rogers.  All you wanted was a nice time, not old memories bothering your brain.

Just Like The Caged Bird - @georgiapeach30513

You are a widow who moves back to her husband's hometown after selling your in Georgia home.  Moving in above your brother in law's garage.  Sharing the space with his friend Bucky Barnes, but your other brother-in-law Andy causes problems, along with your overprotective brothers.

Pretty Petals - @darkficsyouneveraskedfor

You go on a self-improvement retreat, but not all is as it seems. (multi-character)

His Koala Bear - @kinanabinks

you and steve have been best friends since you were 5. for the longest time, he has wanted so much more from you. and it's getting harder for him to stop himself from taking it.

Belong Here - @angrythingstarlight

Steve has been looking for his perfect girl and suddenly there you are stuck in this dingy restaurant. You don't belong here, you belong with him.

Finding Home - @navybrat817

Steve finds a home with you. (lumberjack Au)

Their Doll - @kaiparker-avengerssmut

y/n Stark, all records of her non existent, and yet Hydra still find her. When she is kidnapped by a certain super-soldier and no one believes her, she finds herself searching for unexpected familiarity in her not-so-distant past.

No Better Than Beast’s - @lokislastlove

You’re an animal rights activist who sets out to put an end to animal testing… but it’s a risky mission. (Dark!Steve Rogers)

Doppelgänger - @boxofbonesfic

Your husband’s twin brother has always made you uncomfortable, and after two years of marriage, you finally find out why. (Dark!Ransom Drysdale + Dark!Lloyd Hansen)

Million Dollar Man - @chrisevansgoodgirl

your relationship with ransom and his insane family.

Brooklyn’s Sweetheart - @spacesnail3000

Bucky and Steve had always been meant to keep her safe and happy. As far as anyone else was concerned, that was their sole reason for being alive. Unfortunately, the things that kept her safe were not always the things that kept her happy. Lately, she was making it pretty damn hard for them to compromise.

Let It Snow - @spacesnail3000

She was his Omega, and Steve had a plan. She would love him. He knew she would.

Sweet Renegade - @cevansbrat0007

A new arrival in town leads to an unexpected complication in the form of a sexy as sin Bounty Hunter named Ari Levinson.

Evergreen, Evermore - @babyjakes

loving husbands jake and ari had always believed they were all each other could ever want or need. but one unusual summer, when their world is turned upside-down by an uncanny girl from down the street, they find that having someone to love, nurture, and care for together is the missing piece that finally completes their perfect family and lives.

A Huckleberry Is Nothing Without His Hummingbird - @dbnightingale24

Lloyd and Y/N have been amicably(ish) divorced for four years. However, when earth shattering trauma come their way, will they lean into what they truly want, or will the flames from past traumas still burn too bright?

Civil war- Brooklyn - @saiyanprincessswanie

Ten years ago the Readers world was turned upside down when her father was killed by Hydras Brock Rumlow. She believes the loves of her life Steve Rogers and James “Bucky” Barnes were also killed while trying to avenge her fathers death. Reader is now working for the FBI on a task force that is meant to take down Hydra. She volunteers to go undercover to take down Hydra. In doing so she not only puts herself in the cross hairs with Rumlow but she gets to meet the mystery men causing Hydra issues. Who are the Captain and Winter Soldier? What lengths will you go through to uncover the truth and seek revenge?

The Boston Brute - @time-for-a-lullaby

When you graduated from Northeastern University, you had your sights set on the West Coast. And then you were offered a position with the Boston Bruins Athletic Training Department. And then you met Chris. A 6′3″, ruggedly handsome hockey player dead set on making your life a living hell by pushing every button and getting on every nerve. Despite your obvious disdain for each other and the ‘No Fraternization’ clause in your employee contract, you’re drawn together in a passionate, fiery love affair that seems to burn everything in its wake. 

Planet Evans Universe - @astranva

In which Chris was a nervous mess when he met his A+ list celebrity crush, highest-paid, and the most iconic actress, you, at Vanity Fair’s 2014 after party. (Following the life of overprotective!dad!Chris x wife!actress!reader!)

Don’t Speak - @darkficsyouneveraskedfor

Reader is a reclusive loner who ventures down to the library on a simple mission. Her task is complicated by the man she meets there. (Dark!Andy Barber)

Cat and Mouse - @queen-of-the-avengers

You’re called the Vixen because you were HYDRA’s favorite creation. You’re very hard to catch, and once you are, it’s even harder to keep you.

Let’s Ride - @starryevermore

You’re a single mom and have just moved into a new town. You have no interest in looking for love, but the funny thing about love is, it waits for no one. (Biker!Ari Levinson)

Out Of The Darkness - @sunshinexsin

Sienna Jons has lived in Boston for three years now after graduating and is running her own salon in the city. With a small group of friends sticking by her side, she's content with her life. Enter Chris Evans, a known and feared mob boss in Boston’s underground crime world. Coming out of a long relationship ended in a bitter divorce, Chris isn’t looking for anything serious until Sienna crosses his path. Trying to win her over proves difficult for the man who seemingly has it all and Sienna is not willing to be with someone who causes such destruction in his own hometown. Sienna soon finds herself entangled in the crazy, violent world of the mob and struggles to find a way to either live with the hardened man Chris has always been or get away from him before her own life spirals out of control.

Murder He Wrote - @wiypt-writes

You’re sent by your asshole boss to do a review of a Celebrity Host Haunted Mansion, hosted by none-other than the arrogant, wild-eye browed actor Lucas Lee, but you’re worried you’ve missed the boat…that is, until at the last minute, an email arrives to say they can let you in on the last admission that night, which just happens to be Halloween. (Dark!Ransom Drysdale)

Poison Paradise - @the-iceni-bitch

Robert Pronge was sure he could settle for a fake domestic life as long as he could go on killing. Little did he know that you could give him everything he needed.

A Bun In The Oven - @witchywithwhiskey

the leaves are changing—green fading into golden yellow, burnt orange and radiant red—and the days are getting shorter and colder as autumn settles in. it's the perfect time of year for baked goods, fall foliage, book stores, and to curl up next to (and get under) our favorite man with a plan, steve rogers

Wilford’s Demands - @sweater-daddiesdumbdork

Wilford places you in Curtis’ care so he can impregnate you.

In The Balance - @goodgirlofglory

One unsuspecting evening, the stranger Steve Rogers appears bloodied and in need of aid at your doorstep. You immediately catch his eye, and he forces himself upon you within the hour. Several months of repeated visits from him results in your pregnancy, and the night you find out, Steve intereceps you on your way to an abortion clinic and kidnaps you to his mansion. Will you carry the child to term? Will you buckle under the pressure of capitivity? Will you escape the grasp Steve has on you, or will you submit to it and your own, conflicted desires?

Drowning Siren - @rogerswifesblog

The Avengers found an old abandoned HYDRA base, that had been cleared after HYDRAs existence had been exposed. At least they thought it was cleared. It was the biggest experimental lab they had ever seen, the closest base to the ocean, full with creatures-dead creatures. Some of them laid still on tables, stripped with metal cuffs, open and already rotting. It was an awful smell. But then they heard something beautiful. A melody, a beautiful voice singing unbelievably gentle sounds. Walking into the building full with ocean creatures, they had no idea their life was about to change.

Vampire Kings Religion - @marvelcriminalhoe

In a world where fantasy beings roam every corner, the humans are on the bottom. Looked at as weak and disgraceful. The vampires are the opposite. They rule the land, and all of the creatures that take part of it. the current ruler, King Steven, has ruled for more than 150 years, alone. After many nights, and long talks with his most trusted hands, he comes to the long awaited decision that he will finally, take a wife. All female creatures, are to be evaluated, so he can find his perfect match. Of course, no one expects for him to choose a human. Especially not one from the church. Especially not the daughter, of the leader, of the church. The same church that detests the mythical creatures, wishing for nothing more than for them to perish in fire. How could this union possibly end well?

Ride And Prejudice - @pagesoflauren

A take on Pride & Prejudice, certain circumstances in your life have led you to take refuge and work in a farm village, particularly on the ranch owned by Steve Rogers. He doesn’t take kindly to you, having bad perceptions about city folk. Your only reaction to that is the one you deem acceptable: get annoyed at every little thing he does whilst doing your best to annoy him and still keep your job.

Love On The Brain - @howardpotts

You’re just a student, living her normal daily life in New York. One night changes everything, without you even knowing. Steve Rogers slowly introduces you to his world full of money, drugs and voilence. But are you able to handle what he has to offer? (MobBoss!Steve Rogers)

Flamingo King - @onsunnyside

The sun is brutal this summer, especially in Flamingo Trailer Park, the land of big hearts and cheap tricks, you’ve been here for years unlike your “new” neighbour, Ari. He’s older, bigger, and intimidating, the local rockstar, and you, well, aren’t you just the sweetest girl in the whole damn city?

Make It A December To Remember - @imyourbratzdoll

AGE AND SIZE DIFFERENCE IS ADDED TO ALL! SANTA AND THE GRINCH ARE LARGER THAN THE READER! THE ELVES ARE THE SIZE OF HER PALM! (a chris evans xmas universe)

This Love Is Bad - @wildestdreamsblog

You were just trying to escape your past, and Ari was trying to chase his future.

Nowhere To Run - @sagechanoafterdark

On the last day that Steve spent in your small town before heading off to basic training for the army, he made sure it was one you wouldn’t ever forget. Years later when he appears in your town he seems like a changed man in more ways than one, but you’re ready to show him that you’ve never forgotten that day. (Dark!Steve Rogers+ Bucky Barnes)

Nice To Be Kneaded - @rogersideup

Almost every news station in the country was covering the chase for the missing superheroes post-raft-escape following the Civil War. Steve Rogers face had been plastered on the cover of every news paper, fliers stapled to street lamps, posted on bulletin boards in what felt like every coffee shop in the country. It had been just a few long months shy of a year, just long enough to grow out his hair and beard to make himself as unrecognizable as he could manage. Though he was still the poster boy of disorder within the states, he found himself in the scanty town of Greenwood in the house right next to yours.

Forever And Ever More - @syntheticavenger

Ransom Drysdale may be Boston’s most eligible Alpha who has his eyes set on you. With his inheritance hanging in the balance, he won’t take no for an answer, whether you like him or not.

Hackers Heart - @bakugousaysdie

steve rogers has always been america’s golden boy, leading earth’s mightiest heroes and serving his country. you have always been bad with boundaries, a little too curious, and an absolute disruption. you are an absolute menace,so it’s only right you fell in love with the most adored man in the country.

Arranged - @time-for-a-lullaby

Living in this life, you’ve never gotten to have much say in anything. What you wear, who you hang out with, and now, who you marry and you’re dreading your arranged marriage to the Italian mob boss, Chris Evans. Expecting to suffer through a life of abuse while being kept under lock and key, you’re pleasantly surprised when Chris is nothing like you expected. He’s the most feared man on the East Coast, only brought to his knees by one thing and one thing only. You.

[eccentricallygothic]

|| Wrong Turn ||

Pairing: Mountain Man Silver Fox Nomad!Steve Rogers | You. 

Trope: Neat and clean ‘civilized’ Princess-like young trophy wife X Filthy beast of a wild and scary man who only got her because he has the power. 

Description: In a desperate attempt to save your life from the wrath of the mountain people that your friends and you stumbled upon and accidentally killed on a hike gone wrong, you had to offer yourself up to their Leader to use as a ‘resource’. But little did your ‘husband’ know, you had been actively getting rid of his seed to avoid actually getting pregnant. Naturally, when he does find out, he is very unhappy… And also very determined to make sure you don't make it out of your punishment without a child, or two.

Warning(s): Dubcon, barbaric!Steve, breeding kink (gone wild), unprotected p-in-v, reverse cowgirl, doggy style, missionary, he has a wife bod kink (but it is inclusive), misogyny, smut with perhaps too much plot, fear kink, size kink, exhibitionism, possessiveness, jealousy, age gap, hair pulling, spanking, biting, allusions to painal and Steve being a teasing sicko about it but he doesn't actually penetrate, overstimulation, dirty talk, humiliation, degradation, boob play, squirting, Lloyd makes an appearance with his own young bride, dacryphilia (it's me), self degradation, Stevie is a perverted old meanie, infantilization, mind break.

Disclaimer: Very loosely based off of the movie that I do not own. You don't need to know it to read this piece but do note that it takes place in a fictional setting. Minors do not interact. 

Inspo-ish: This post.

Note: For someone who was on their period, I should not have been this horny. But I need this marriage, now. Ps, though this rotted in my drafts for a long time… in honor of Chris growing out his beard again, ig.

MASTERLIST

. . .

You have no idea how long it has been since that fateful twilight when everything changed in your life, leaving you to a lifestyle you could never have even imagined for yourself.  

“Eat up, woman” but as your barbarian of a husband commands you in his rough and animalistically deep voice, you cannot help but break out of your reverie and shudder at the sight of the barely cooked meat piled high on the platter in front of the two of you. “So you can bear me healthy children” although you're the one who was made to prepare his beastly dinner -that never fails to leave you aghast when it's gorged down- as you're his wife, you cannot help but gag under your breath and feel disgust for the loaves that sit before you in the company of a tall stone carved jug that brims full of the foul smelling mead that your husband is ardently fond of. 

You muster up your best coy smile. Keeping up the appearance of a happily mated pair is important. Or people stare. And then the old man becomes unpleasant. “I had quite a lot while I was cooking, dear” your lies sting your tongue out of the fear you feel of getting caught, but the mere hope of not doing so is better than eating this. “Y- You go ahead” you slowly turn in his muscle hardened lap, that you are always to sit on, to give him a small smile but your expression almost transforms into one of horror because of how wildly your heart jumps at the sight of his stern, predator-like face. You are quick to recover though, as it is a usual occurrence. 

“You need it. You work so hard—” there is just something about his rough looks that never fails to send a chill down your spine. You have never seen anything, let alone an actual human man like him before. 

A beard as thick as the very forest his people populate and as dark as the nights can get here in the absence of lanterns due to the heavy trees, age that streaks some of his gold locks with its silver has not marred the sternness of his jaw that remains firmly set under the heavy mane of his facial hair. His shoulders seem akin to the mountains that surround his village and his piercing dark eyes the mysterious waterfall that flows some way down south from the entrance of the settlement. The frightening mass of his shoulders is so toned that if the barely noticeable wrinkles that sometimes appear under the dark of his eyebrows and next to the crow-feather like lashes that frame his eyes, he can easily be mistaken for a man in his primeful late twenties and no older. His unrelenting strength and wolfish stamina would only further serve to bear testament to the misconception. 

Your strict husband bluntly catches your shaky hand that you extend in his direction to feed him some of the meat, the force that he uses coupled with the coarseness of his skin making you jump. You bite back a yelp and whimper when you look up at his dark blue eyes from where you were watching his bearded mouth to carefully place the food in.

“I don't care” Steve does not care much for being polite -unless it is you who disregards it in your behavior-, especially when it comes to you denying or diverting his ‘care’ for you. “You eat more” you bite back the scowl that threatens to break onto your face from how he turns your hand around in your direction instead. “Wives always need to eat more. They do so much at home for husband and children” he probably feels proud of these ‘values’ that have been transmitted to him by his elders. But all they make you want to do is to crack him across the jaw for being a misogynistic and backward shithead. Especially with you. 

Your ‘husband’ believes that everyone has a role to play; a contribution to make to their people and home. That is how this archaic village of theirs has survived in these mountains hidden away from the rest of the world for so long. 

The greasy piece of a disturbing excuse of a rare steak touches your lips and you've been here long enough to know better than to argue or worse yet, fight. So you smile and lean into his arm that cases your form against his through the embrace he holds you in from behind, his fingers playing with one of the many flowered braids your attending ladies had put in your hair a bit before his arrival at ‘home’. 

“O- Of course” you reluctantly open your open and grip your flowy dressing gown for a semblance of support for your sanity, taking the smallest bite you can -which is still a lot as the man pushes nearly the whole piece into your mouth the moment you open up- as you keep your eyes trained on his to avoid looking down. Your mind always becomes more aware of the taste when you look. “Thank you, dear” you focus on swallowing it without gagging and feel your smile split in places because of how uncomfortable you are.

He probably notices it because he slightly raises one eyebrow and snorts before hugging your smaller form -that is tiny compared to his- closer and puts the rest of the piece in his own mouth. If there is one thing you have learnt in your time with him, it's that you can never fool him. Not really. No matter how well you may think you have lied or pretended, he always sees through it. 

Sometimes you suspect he even enjoys it.

Steve finally begins to eat himself, silently offering you another piece that you politely reject by shaking your head and then quickly pressing an apologetic kiss to his scruffy cheek to lighten the blow. Apparently, a wife can never be polite enough to her husband. And though the change in his expression begins with an unhappy frown, your show of ‘affection’ seems to suffice him and he relaxes in satisfaction, now looking down the long table and at his clansmen and maidens that sit enjoying their dinner, their chatter and laughter a dull roar in the large eating hall of the Leader's dwelling. You pick up the heavy jug of mead with both your hands and obediently hold it to his lips to sip from. Steve looks away from what one of his main men are saying and gulps down a mouthful, rubbing your back as a gesture for thanks before moving his hand quickly down to squeeze your ass to heighten the effect of his expression of gratitude. 

His form shakes in mirth when you yelp and blush. He knows how embarrassing you find being openly ‘affectionate’ in front of people and that is one of the reasons why he enjoys it so much besides showing off that a thing of such beauty and youth like you is all his. You rest the jug between your boobs that he has fucked and squeezed into increasing in size and use your other hand to gently finger and stroke his golden locks that he keeps pushed away from his face outside the bedroom. Though he says nothing, you feel his usually vigilant and always firm stature slowly soften and you cannot help but smile, though what he says next quickly deflates it.

“Do you feel any change in you, wife?” You know what it means and now it's you who becomes tense. He only uses that name for you when he speaks to you as a husband inquiring about your marital matters. “Has my seed attached to your womb yet? Does it grow there?” You gulp and feign shyness, moving closer to his hair and nuzzling yourself in him. “Hm?” He closes his hugging arm around you and reaches for your stomach, fingers groping your covered skin as gently as he can -which isn't much- to feel it. “Answer me” he demands when you refuse to speak. 

“I… I don't know, husband” you always promise yourself that you'll demand more rights for yourself; ask him to treat you like the other husbands treat their wives, only to fail the minute he enters your vicinity. 

“What does that mean?” His tone turns blunt and you whimper at the tightness that snaps back in place between his shoulders. 

You get it.

That was the deal, after all. 

Healthy children in exchange for your life that was required by their judicial laws for bearing false witness to your friend accidentally killing one of their people in mistaken defense. Steve had promised you before accepting you as a citizen that if you failed to fulfill your task you'd walk the darkness in the dungeons. He had shown you how it would be before declaring you a member of their tribe and the sight you had seen was something that had given you nightmares for days. 

But that did not mean you actually wanted to have your old captor's children.

You doubted it would ever be something you'd look forward to.

“I- I mean” regret shoots up your spine in the form of fear and you lose your speech to it momentarily. But then two of your main attending ladies -by that you mean Steve's top agents when it comes to you- enter the horizon of your sight and you hurriedly blubber out the first thing that comes to your mind. “I've n- never been pregnant before, s-o I d- don't know how to…” Your husband turns to look at you, his handsome features twisting into a rogue scowl but before he can scold you, one of the two ladies, Kaira, speaks in their language to Steve. 

Not everyone here can speak English and those who do speak it do so a rather odd version of it. Naturally, you don't speak their language and so they give you the full experience of an outsider when they need to discuss the business they want to keep private from you. The thought makes you want to laugh, like you'd be able to do something with whatever informations they withhold.

But it doesn't really bother you, because you don't care.

You've also learnt that ignorance is bliss here. 

Especially for someone like you.

Better to be the doe eyed trophy wife of an angel who can't tell her head from her ass.

“Is that so?” Your heart jumps when Steve chooses to speak English. That means that this definitely concerns you. You place the mead down and wrap one arm around his broad shoulders before nervously combing his thick beard with your other hand. Since you have no interest in or desire to learn their language, the only word you manage to pick up on when you focus really hard is ‘baby’ and that is solely because of the annoying amount of times it comes up for you. 

“Is not this strange?” He speaks once the women step back after finally ending the nerve wracking conversation that seems to go on forever. “Do you hear what they say about you, little one?” Fuck, you're definitely in trouble. 

He is reminding you of your place. 

You put on your best charming smile but you're painfully aware that your nervousness gives it away. You can feel it. “W- What do they say, dear?” They were such bitches. They knew how to speak English, that's why they were your attendants, but yet they chose not to. And now they were glaring at you like you weren't above them— oh no, not these thoughts again. You will never become like them! No, no! 

Steve pushes his plate away now. Your head spins from the realization. It's only half finished. Your husband never wastes his food. It is a near sin for them to do so. “They tell me the most odd things” oh just fucking tell me! You mentally scream but outwardly tilt your head to the side in confusion, your chest vibrating with the rising beats of your heart. “And now that I think about it myself…” His fingers wrap around the mead before he raises it to his lips. “I see the—”

“What did they say, Steve?” Your mouth works faster than your better sense and he pauses mid sip, dark blue eyes flickering up from the stone jug to look at you. Your face flushes a noticeable hot and your ears get sweaty from the awareness. 

Fuck. 

“They say you've been getting rid of my seed” he feels played and thus angry at the both of you. Perhaps more so towards himself than you; his silly little child-wife. How could he let a thing as tender and small as you fool him so? “... Do you?” It is obvious you are guilty. Besides, he is confident that his people would never lie to him unlike one young and beautiful girl that he had found kneeling in front of him in his court while bawling her eyes out one fateful night, fear stricken as his people surrounded him like a doe trapped. 

And of course, your expressions and reactions don't help your case, as always. “W- What? No…” Your mind becomes erratic.

“No?” He himself knows not what kind of a chance he offers you with that. But typical to your nature, you make it easy for him by refusing it.

“N- No! Of course not! W- Why would I ever do such a thing to m- my husb- hubby and my b- babies?!” Steve has to clench down his scoff. 

“You wouldn't, would you?” Your naivete never fails to amuse him.

“No! I- I don't know why they accuse me so—” you mend your speech from the archaic form that tries to leech to it everyday. “I don't know why they would accuse me of that but they must be mistaken! This is a misunderstanding!” 

He hums. “I see…” His scarred fingers begin to toy with your braids again. “So you remain devoted to me and faithful to our family, don't you?”

“Of course!” You nuzzle closer to him, your heart thundering into his chest. “I don't know why they still treat me like an outsider” you purr as you nervously stroke his hair, playing a card of your own and making an absolute fool of yourself by doing so. “I try my best… like I promised.” 

“Yes, your promise” his distant eyes -they get like that when you disappoint him and you hate the sight because it never fares well for you- travel down to your empty stomach. His gaze makes it wrench. Your fear skyrockets at the same rate as your anger. If only there was a way for you to get back at those bitches without having to give birth!

“I- It takes time sometimes, dear…” You hug his shoulders with one arm. “But it will happen. I know it…” Your other hand reaches for his fingers that rest on your abdomen now. 

“Oh?” Steve raises one dark eyebrow at you. His hair is the most fascinating combination of blonde and dark brown. “Is that what your modern day sciences say?” His people were not always like this, he had told you. They did not originate from here. Rather, some families had abandoned ‘civilization’ when it was going to hell -in his words- by killing each other for meaningless constructs such as caste, creed and color differences and migrated up here to establish a system of their own; one free from such nonsense. 

Apparently.

You take a deep breath. “Stevie—” you only call him that when you find yourself dangerously close to the dungeons.

“If that is what you believe in, wife,” he never cuts you off. Usually, that is. His age that streaks his blonde strands with its silver ones has granted him enough patience. Normally, he waits for the other person -who is most often you- to mess up themselves. But whatever the ladies have told him seems to agitate him into rebelling against his own nature today. “I'll do it your way. After all, happy wife happy life, is that not what you tell me often?” Okay, you might have said that during a particularly cocky moment in bed once. 

But the intention behind that had not been nearly whatever he is moving towards now. 

“Y- You don't have to, l- love…” You nervously giggle. “You're perfect the way you are” you run your nails that he insists you keep trimmed for hygienic -as if- and practical purposes through his silver-blonde hair.

“Oh no…” Now he pushes his food farther away. “I will indulge you, little one” he moves your other leg over his laps so now you face the people down the table with both of your legs on either sides of his, ass to his… fuck. “Time conspires against us, and so we must make haste.”

Your eyes widen and your heart leaps up in your throat. “M- My love?!” 

Steve moves your flowy gown out of his way, keeping a firm hold on one of your thighs even though he doesn't really have to. Your fear of him would never let you attempt an escape. “Yes, my stars” the name is so full of sarcasm it nearly pierces you open. “Let us leave time to its devices, and us ours” your husband is usually a very possessive and private man when it comes to you, but his ire seems to get the better of him today. You hear the buckle of his own clothes come undone. The table goes silent and heads turn in your direction once they realize what's going on. Oh no… Your stomach drops. Not in front of everyone. Not when Steve makes you so vulnerable in that condition. Not in front of these lowlifes!

“Husb—” blood bubbles hot under your cheeks as you feel him align himself against you. 

Holy shit.

You feel one of his coarse hands wrap around your throat and he pulls you closer to his mouth so he can whisper in your ear. “You will contribute, my stubborn little wife,” you whimper from the menace his words hold, your well trained cunt obediently squelching open against his thick hard tip as he lowers you on his cock with the hold he has on your thigh. “Whether you like it, or not” sometimes, deep down, you fear that the dungeons are not an option anymore. 

He keeps you in the horizons of his sight too much for them to be. 

It appears as though the sentence has changed. 

It is now Steve, or Steve.

You cry out from the strain his log-like girth puts on the narrow band of your entrance. God. You will never get used to his size regardless of how many times and ways he tames your pussy in. Yes, it does not refuse him or rip around him now as it used to in the beginning -and it did that for a long time- but the size to which his cock makes it expand is like a mini-birth. Feels like it, looks like it. Only, it feels way too good. And that's why you don't mind it—

No. You don't know what that was or meant. But you don't take responsibility for that thought!

“Oh!” The balmy velvet of your cavern grazes down the bulging veins and hard skin of the brute's cock until your petals squish against his heavy and very eager balls. Your head spins when you feel his tip tickle your cervix. It never takes his dick long to find it.  

His hands are pushing you back up almost instantly so he can slide you back down. You look anywhere but at the tens of faces in front of you, instead choosing to look at the wall on the opposite side of the table. You never thought these people were capable of being this quiet until now when your pussy makes an embarrassingly loud squelching noise as Steve tugs you back to his leaking tip and then allows gravity to suck you back down. You desperately bite your lips and try to focus on ignoring the way your insides are beginning to thrum with the excitement and stimulation; to show these brutes that you're better than them and aren't some animal of nature. But to no avail. His slimy precum mixes too well with yours, the rough skin of his hands digs into your thighs too well and the manner in which your petals rub against his cock when he lifts you yet again -now forming a momentum- before letting you slide in again is too much for you mask with nonchalance. 

Indifference has never been among your strong suits.

“Tell me, my pretty” Steve begins again, his dark eyes now finding the young and hormonal pack of unsuspecting boys who clearly do not know better. “Have you ever had a cock like mine?” He says it in their own language so the foolish miscreants see, understand and learn the fact that you’re only his. You belong to him and he will go to war for you, not that a pack of rug rats will ever be a cause of worry for him. “Has anyone ever fucked you as good as I do?” He switches back to the language you understand, roughly fumbling for your jaw before he grabs it and bounces his hips into yours at the same time. 

Your traitorous legs have begun to do what they always do; fuck yourself against him -if he hasn’t bound you, which he hasn’t- in whatever position he has you. You only realize that your breathing has become heavier when you open your mouth to answer. “Only you, my husband! Only you!” Your brain is running too fast for reason or reflection to catch up so you leave wondering why you answer him with the only words he has been able to teach you in his language to later. Your words are muffled as his fingers that grip the lower half of your face nearly slip in your mouth from the disordered urgency of the both of your actions. 

“That's right” your mouth falls open and you begin to softly pant in that animalistic way that you detest when he makes you watch yourself in a mirror while fucking you sometimes. In your defense, it is always unintentional on your part; you barely even notice it while taking his fucking. And yet, it is inevitable due to the force he does it with. “Look at you; dutifully fucking yourself up and down your husband's cock like a bitch in heat” a twinge forms in your knuckles from how your fingers hold the edges of the table to aid the gliding of your fuck hole that now slams up and down his cock in a rhythm you're all too familiar with, the smacks of your bare ass slapping against his naked abdomen making appalling noises that you're too worked up to dread over right now. “And you're a bitch in heat for me, aren't you?” His fingers move down from your jaw to your throat. “Wanting to be bred over and over again until you're so full of my children that your little belly is round and heavy to the brim, hm?” In these moments, you tell him anything and everything that he wants to hear.

Steve knows it all too well.

And he loves it.

“Yes!” Your voice disappears midway from how he squeezes your windpipe. His hips meet yours midway now, the wetness of your cunt and the force of his thrusts causing for his balls to try and push past the tight boundary of your sexual cavern. “Yes! Yes! I am! Please!” Your eyes roll to the back of your head when his free hand finds your petals to play with. “Ohhh!”

“You want to be bred, don't you?” He rubs your drenched pussy lips while his hard cock pistons in and out of your sopping cunt. “Want to contribute…?” He chokes you once more and this time his fingers pinch one of your pussy lips punishingly at the same time and you cry out. “Provide your husband with a house full of heirs?” The oxygen in your mind depletes and your eyes flutter as a result, cheeks turning red and nerves becoming prominent on your glistening temples. Your horny yet defensive pussy finally relaxes around him a bit so it doesn't hurt his dick and he savours the moment by holding you by the curve between your legs and fucking into your form that gets limp by the moment to push you towards your first orgasm. 

It always gets better after that. 

For him, at least. 

You don't choke him out so much then.

“Y- Yes!” When Steve finally lets go of your throat to let you breathe, you blubber out an an answer obediently once the light returns to your eyes. Your walls stiffen around him once more. But by then he has already worked himself closer to your womb. “Yes! Yes!” It is all your mind can muster.

“Good” he makes a point of taking both of your boobs in his hands and thoroughly massaging them to show off his ownership over you. “Now ask me to breed you” the fence of heat that has formed around your loins becomes tighter when his hands that previously fondled your clothed breasts slip under your gown -for Steve is too possessive to actually expose you to the eyes of others- and he softly rubs your tense sides a couple times before his fingers form pinches around your hard nubs. 

“Please breed me!” Your voice is so loud and strained that its quality is nearly blood curdling. “Please breed me and s- stuff me full your children!” Your hands fly to grip his from over the dress as you throw your head back and slip from the edge of your anticipation, parrotting all the words he has taught you over the course of your marriage. “Oh GOD! Please!” Your back arches from the coming undone of the hot belt of expectation and scorching gratification spills from it, seeping down your legs in the form of a nearly unbearable electric feeling that transforms into a subzero energy when it reaches your toes that curl, causing them to feel as though they are freezing. “I need your b- babies so bad, hubby!” 

Steve's own ears blush from the heat that courses through them in the form of adrenaline as he snorts, some of his blonde strands coming loose from the push and tug that he plays with your cunt. “Tell them” his balls ache from the strength it takes him not to fill you up right then. “Tell everyone that you want me to fill you up with my babies” since your sensitive body tries to curl and move away from the overstimulation, the older man wraps both of his hands around your thighs to keep you going. “Say it!” And he makes you say the words that he desires in the language of your spectators that look embarrassed for the first time since you got here. 

Save for your husband's best men who look equal parts aroused and proud. 

You want to cringe and be disgusted but your sensitive pussy is being pounded too hard for you to attempt a conjuring up of any dignity. 

“Need hubby babies bad!” You cry out again from memory when Steve's thick seed begins to fill you up at last. “Oh, my God!” The feeling of his hot cum filling you up and painting every inch of your sensitive walls penetrates your already hazy mind and the warmth that steams out of the pearly liquid steams its way up to your womb, making you shudder at the feeling. Your opening tightens around him in protest of the overstimulation and it instead causes for a barrage of bitter-sweet electric sparks to explode through your abdomen in the form of a half post-climax orgasm. Your body grows tired.

But your insatiable is far from done.

“Flattering, but no” Steve pushes you against the table before standing up when he is done fucking his orgasm as deep as he can reach into you. “The father of your children will suffice” your eyebrows furrow at his words but the older man does not give you a chance to ponder over them because now he is hooking his hands under your thighs that your rapid and messy fucking has covered in both of your juices. 

“W- What?!” Your vision is hazy and your mind dazed as you incoherently tap about. “What's— oh!” You wince from how much easier it is for him to move inside your worked open and much lubricated but torturously overstimulated walls now. “Oh! Oh…” Your hands blindly feel behind you to try and get him to stop. “Oh, no! No, please!” You cry out weakly, your upper body hanging low in the opposite direction from the exhaustion. 

“No?” The older man darkly chuckles, paying no mind to your flailing. “You think you can say that to me?” One of his hands desert their post on your thighs to roughly grab at your hair. He hasn't forgotten what started all this. “You think you have the same rights as everyone else around here, wife?”

But you're scowling from the burning pain in your walls, mind hazy and unwise. “Stop! Stop!” Your puffy folds ache from how his stiff skin rubs against them as he moves in and out of you at a normal pace… for now. “It hurts, stop!” 

“That is the part and parcel of having children” your body curves outwards as he pulls you further back and closer to himself by your hair. “And is that not why you're here?” His cocky tone along with the hungry and wondering eyes of the wildlings make you angry. “What you were spared for in the first place?” A twinkle in the eye of a man pisses you off and…

“It hurts, you old bastard!” Your young blood gets the better of you and your mouth runs before sense can catch up. “Stop, stop, stop it!” Since your hair holds you closer to him you manage to land a few smacks to his rock hard arms before you try to snake your fingers under his to pry off the hand that he coils around your thigh in a weak attempt to move away. 

Steve only chuckles, clearly unfazed by your fighting as he bounces your smaller form up in the air with each thrust. “Did your mother not teach you anything, wife?” He lets go of your hair only to restrain both your arms on the small of your back. “Good girls never tell their husbands no” your body flops forward again and you've no choice but to face the long table full of people. “They lay down pretty with their legs spread and let their husbands fill them with their children and then they express their gratitude for being granted a family.” Though your mind is confused and rather disoriented from the influx of sensation, you can make out new additions to the crowd of your humiliation from the corners of your vision. 

“Ugh!” You grunt from the rapid jabs he gives to your sore pussy, his firm hold nearly searing into your wrists. “I don't wanna have your stupid blonde babies!” Steve breathlessly lets out a real laugh at that. “Let go!” 

“There” he can swear he will never tired of you breaking the little character of the obedient wife that you so naively think you have mastered only to break it when he has you all riled up like this. “Right there, easy now” his other hand leaves your lap and he pushes your head down and against the table in the most condescending manner imaginable. Steve has got you to expose yourself for the brat you are, no need for play anymore. “Now I make a bunny out of you” his dark eyes now meet with those of the boys sitting at the other end of the table and his use of their language is a silent message. The Leader knows how his wife is desired. And he doesn't appreciate it in the least. The young males all panic and look away, gulping to themselves and praying for their lives. 

You try to struggle again, your lip curling in disdain and protest as you feel him fuck his cum right up your cervix. The bitter pleasure you get from it makes your head spin and your fingers and toes flex defensively. “Ooof!” Your cheek rubs against the table and you puff out your face to express how tense you feel down there. 

“Brat” Steve shakes in silent mirth as he reaches for your ass with the hand that he was holding your face down with. “Don't you move a muscle.” You're too busy rocking over the table and being held down to try. 

“Hubby, please!” You whine when one of his veins twitch deep up your walls and your knees shiver from the sensation. “Please!” Maybe if his cock wasn't so comically huge, it would have been easier to move past the rough friction of your raw, orgasm worn skins. But it is and so you are ready to abandon the dam that begins to form in your abdomen again if it means to avoid this pain. “Owwwiee!”

“Aw” Steve cooes as he now moves to a pace that falters your vision and causes for the great table to shake with each thrust that he gives you. “So small and sore, aren't we?” The spank he lands on your unsuspecting ass right after is the stark opposite of his tone. “Maybe we shouldn't act out so much when we are so weak and pathetic, huh, wife?”

“Oooof!” One of the shyer ladies get up before she carries her young son who stood next to the group of the young ones away and the realization of the fact that your spectators are all real people who see you everyday and will continue to do after this drips down your limbs like ice cold water. Your hips cannot help but clench from the embarrassment that you dully feel in some part of your mind way far at the back. “Hubby, please!” The spanks increase with each snap of his hips and though the turmoil between your legs takes up most of your sensory powers, your cheeks now begin to noticeably sting from the pain that builds from how the swings of his hand against your poor ass increase with each thrust. 

“Please?” Steve muses like he isn't balls deep into you and fucking the literal daylights out of you like a crazed heathen. “Oh, but I thought I was a mean old bastard” of course, your pleas always only mean that you want more, according to the brute you are married to. They cannot mean anything else, apparently. “And you didn't want my stupid blonde babies” you grunt from the frustration and land a helpless fist on the table. You are in an uncomfortable tug of war between the mutilation of your sensory glands and the tall barrage of tight hot anticipation that cannot help but form in the base of your stomach again because of how hard and rough he fucks you. 

Your husband's main man, Lloyd, laughs in a comically daft voice to tease you and be the insufferable asshole that he is. “You've got yourself a feisty little pup there, Steve” he is the only one who can refer to the blonde haired man by his name. Or maybe, he doesn't care to use the honorific and his usefulness backs him up. You wouldn't be surprised if the latter really is the case. “Don't you agree, my sweet?” He side hugs his own young bride who ironically is one of the sweetest and perhaps the only nice person in this entire village and Lloyd grins down at the girl whom you now notice is blushing furiously. 

Before you can let the humiliation swallow you whole, Steve spreads your burning cheeks and chuckles at the sight he finds glistening and blinking up at him, the madenned hammering of his cock unceasing. “Look at this adorable little button of yours, darling” you are not personally familiar with any of the faces that witness you trying to pathetically crawl away when your devil of a husband begins to tickle your pucker so you realize it was actually not quite hitting you as bad as it does now when you become hyperaware of Rainie's gaze. If it weren't for how your eyes roll because of Steve's hot seed shooting deep up your cavern again and nearly searing into your very flesh this time around from the brutality of it all, you reckon you would have tried to hide. But now all you do is let out choked blubbers as your wide eyes sting from tears due to the sensory overload. “I think it's time we deflowered it, what do you think?”  

Oh, no. 

His cock is not something that you can handle in your ass without splitting all over the place!

“No answer? No?” It feels as though you are the one who is cumming and not Steve because of how good he is at wearing the mask of nonchalance. “Hm,” he roughly pulls you backwards by your hair before hooking an arm around your waist to keep you from trying to get away from how he toys with your trembling pucker. “Maybe we should let sweet Rainie decide for you, hm—?”

“OH, GOD!” You cannot help but scream over him. 

He is too much.

Steve ignores your exclamation, thrusts delayed -more jab like- but so strong that his tip spears into your cervix with each thrust, thus causing for your head to spin from how he chooses to fuck out his orgasm. “She's your friend, isn't she?” Steve's beard gently stings the sweaty and teary skin of your jaw from how his mouth presses into your ear. “Aren't you, Rainie dear?” 

Yep, you are never looking her in the eye ever again. 

“Answer him, sunshine” Lloyd eggs his wife on and you notice through your cloudy vision that he is making her palm his own bulge. You nearly cringe back into Steve's chest from the obscenity of it all. 

The girl, a new bride herself, is shy and small next to her own flesh boulder of a husband as she meekly peeks up at you through her lashes. “Y- Yes, sir. We are friends” her voice is barely audible and both your husbands chuckle. 

If it weren't from how a dull orgasm rips itself apart somewhere deep between your loins, you would have felt angry.

It is like the assholes know that you're friends, and they're having their fun with it.

No wonder they are best mates.

“Good, good” you can feel Steve's cum splattering your thighs with each brutal jab, the sound and sprays of his shaft making a mess of your juices underneath your dress ample in its audibility. “So, do you think it's time your girlfriend's dirty little button was opened up, hm?” He keeps one hand on your pucker and reaches for your boob to grope with the other.

Rainie blushes again and furiously lowers her head the moment her eyes connect with yours. Though you don't know it, her own has been deflowered not too long ago and she isn't sure what response would be favourable by you, so that and the embarrassment of the Leader questioning her for something like that about his wife when she is on amiable terms with the girl makes her choose silence for as long as allowed. And her own husband cockily leaning into her and mansplaining into her ear how it would work for you by comparing it with what he did to her pretty ass only makes her curl further. 

“Shy little thing, isn't she, my precious?” So your husband turns his unwelcome attention back to you, bending the both of your bodies forwards so he can smack your asshole with the back of his hand easier, the impact making you rock violently forward. “Maybe you should learn some manners from her, huh?” The howls you let out from getting your pucker pinched and hit is something you would rather not narrate. All you choose to disclose of that ordeal is that sobs echo in the hall, another orgasm rips out of you and you are sure your body releases more liquid than normal for an average orgasm. “Look at how polite and nice she is, hm? While all you want to do is to curse your husband and be an ungrateful little sloth” it sounds as though a newfound annoyance causes him to grit his teeth towards the end and the tip of his fingers finds recourse in seeking for itself a passage past the tight barrier of your unwilling button as a result. 

And so your mouth begins to run in the desperate way he loves. “N- No, no, no hubby! No!” You vehemently shake your head as you feel your knees start to buckle from the exhaustion. “I- I didn't mean it!” The bearded corners of his mouth pull into a deep smirk. He knows its coming, and he loves it. 

“You didn't?” How can he not when he is the one who trained you to it and taught you the words to say during. 

“No! No!” Your voice comes out child-like from your mind's succumbing to its defeat. For the day, at least. “I d- didn't!” 

Steve is a jackhammer in how he fucks his children into you and works towards giving you more. “Oh, I see” now he speaks to you like an elder speaking to a young one, like you are no older than five winters. “Then, will you tell me why you said such naughty words to your husband who does so much for you?” He knows you're small now and so he chooses his words accordingly.

After all, it is Steve's meticulous tailoring of your mind and body which brings you to act out this specific sequence. 

Nothing less, nothing more.

Just this. 

A shrew tamed into a compliant wife equipped with the mind of a babe. 

He may never admit it outright simply because it goes against his very code of life but Steve knows in his heart of hearts that it is this very push and pull you put up in your own passive little way that keeps him alert and your marriage interesting. 

Addictive.

“Is ’cause— hnnng, cause—!” He pulls both of your bodies back up with the intention of turning you to face him but he chooses not to do it just yet. He wants you, those silly boys and everyone else who suspects that his judgement grows soft because of his fancy for your youthful beauty and adorable personality, to hear it. Steve can always pull you right back down if wants. Your reins will always be in a hand's reach to him. Just because he lets you sneak in your foolish ways sometimes doesn't mean you've conquered his nature-gifted better sense.

“Because, what?” Everything in life calls for balance and so each time your misbehavior that you think you hide so well from him begins to rise above a level he deems no longer amusing, he is there to hammer it down. 

Quite literally. 

“Because I am j- just an i- impudent,” Steve grunts and moans, feeling his cock twitch from how you always mispronounce imprudent when you are in this state. He taught you that word and true to your little baby self and mind, you can never get yourself to say it right. “Little wife and I am a d- dumby—”

“Fuck…” Steve feels a drop of cold sweat trickle down his back from your little vocabulary. He feels himself pant from how hard he fucks you, his windpipe alight from the friction caused by the air he heaves in with each desperate inhale.

You are a proper trouble; something he has never had before, and he loves it.

“— D- Dumby sloth who dunno any real worries besides e- eating and b- being spoilt b- by my lovu hubbsy—” your tongue is kinetic jelly between your teeth and Steve has begun to moan from how fucked stupid you sound. “So I get shtoopid and u- ungateful” Steve cannot contain it anymore. In a fevered and desperate confusion of how to express the thunderstorm you cause in his head, he slaps your hair away, causing for some of the flowers to go flying about, and sinks his teeth into your flesh, growling so deep into your skin that you feel the vibrations cause ripples in your blood. Perhaps that is what Steve yearns to taste. “B- But husby always fixes” your head goes limp against his as he sucks your skin like a crazed animal for you lose a track of how long. Your vision and hearing bolts away from your comprehensive faculties like a bullet train and your body gets sucked into the vacuum of your husband's beastly grip. You are just a lifeless doll rocking in whichever direction and manner he pleases.

Next time your brain catches on with your reality, your body has been placed under his with your back against the table. You faintly notice when your dress begins to get wet that splashes of mead cover it due to your brutish husband's depraved madness. 

“Look at me, hey” he pats your incoherent face until your wandering gaze settles on him, teary eyes distant. “This is the face that you will see in those of your children, and children you shall have until this residence cannot contain any more” his promise echoes in your buzzing ears like the bestowing of an ultimate truth upon you by some powerful deity. “This is the face you will look up at as you spread your legs,” his tip is so swollen, raw and hot against your worn skin that you can feel it even in this state. Your features scrunch from the discomfort. “This is the face you will kiss and cherish” his fingers find your throat again and your eyes roll to the back of your head when he puts pressure on your windpipe. “And this is the face that you will look at until you breathe your last” he holds you until you are on the verge of losing consciousness, though letting go only to stifle the gasp you let out to resume your breathing with a hot sealing kiss.

Your muscles twitch and your body spasms in the position he has you in. Laxness washes over your limbs and you begin to violently shake from the dull and yet stinging quakes of sensation that bloom through your whole form. 

For some dark, twisted and depraved reason, you cum from the helplessness of your situation and it is present in Steve's amused and proud smirk that the knowledge is not lost on him. Swiping an arm around you from behind with an air of satisfaction, he collects your limp body closer to his and walks off to your chambers with your drenched sexes still connected, leaving a crowd of embarrassed, curious, satisfied as well as tamed spectators in his wake. 

You surrender yourself to him and close your eyes as your body collapses on top of his. Your mind barely works but you know one thing— fact as clear as day; you are not making it out of this without at least one child on the way. 

And there isn't a single thing you can do about it.

. . .

[barneswinchester]

MCU Masterlist III

as always, I don't own any of these, they're just my absolute favourites.

mcu masterlist I

mcu masterlist II

Bucky Barnes

SMUT 👅

drabble

look at me

bad date

welcome back

ride

on his knees

wake up bj

a taste of submission

a good plowin

bliss

printesa mea

somnophilia

languages of love

FLUFF & ANGST 🤍

protective

purgatory

grouch

his safe place

night terrors

my babydoll

sensitive

safe with me

Steve Rogers

SMUT 👅

the game

FLUFF & ANGST 🤍

my love is winter

the game

every step of the way

Stucky

SMUT 👅

feral

heat of the moment

a sweet treat

FLUFF & ANGST 🤍

initials

I'm pregnant, not dying

brave new world

happy ending

last hope part two

Andy Barber

SMUT 👅

anonymous

Ari Levinson

FLUFF & ANGST 🤍

you said I was your favourite

SMUT 👅

forget everything

Loki

FLUFF & ANGST 🤍

bad dreams

Lee Bodecker

SMUT 👅

persuasion

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Summer Breeze 1

Was gonna be a drabble roulette. Fuck me, I can't do this right, can I?

Warnings: age gap (reader is 22, Andrew is mid 40s), dad's friend, Andy being Andrew, other dark elements. As usual, be mindful of your content consumption.

I also beg of you to leave me some tuppence in the form of a comment and/or reblog. You are cherished!

Enjoy, my loverlies.

You push yourself up from the air mattress, feeling the floor through the deflating cushion. You grumble and yawn as you rub your eyes. You stand up, the loose tank clinging to your stomach as you tug the hem of your shorts from the crease of your thigh. 

You don’t lament your accommodation. You know you’re a last-minute addition to the trip. The place is a bit crowded and you’re just happy to not be laid out in the dirt. Still a free vacation is a free vacation. You won’t complain for it. 

You stretch and pad to the door, careful not to disturb the bodies sleeping in the dual bunk beds. You’ve never been to a cottage before. This place is nicer than your house. Even if it’s a bit cramped. 

Your dad always complained about the mortgage and now you know why. He’s struggling to make his monthly payments and keep you in school, meanwhile the neighbour has a whole second house by a lake. You feel worse for your meagre contributions. Your part-time job won’t get your dad his own beach house. 

As you get to the door, you jump at the loud snort the cuts the air. Jacob rolls over and throws his arm over his face. He’s been at it all night. Him and his friends who crowd onto the single mattresses.

You get along but you’re not exactly a part of his usual gang. It was your dad’s idea to come up. You know he forgot it was his turn to have you for the summer. The awkward getaway is better than dealing with another of your mother’s boyfriends. 

Your weight creaks in the floor as you come down the hall and you stop short at the unexpected figure stood before the open windows. You hug yourself as wind blows in from over the water. You stare at Mr. Barber’s broad shoulders as he stands shirtless as he stares out at the morning landscape. 

You should go back. You’re always the first one awake at the sleepover. You lean back on your heel and the floor whines loud enough to give you away. You cringe. 

“Burton--” Mr. Barber grits as he glances over his shoulder, cutting himself short as he sees you. He turns to face you completely and coughs, “sorry, I thought you were your father.” 

“Um, no, sorry Mr. Barber, I was just... awake,” you utter dumbly. 

“Andy,” he corrects you. 

“Right, Andy,” you echo nervously, “I’ll just--” you point with your thumb over your shoulder. 

“It’s fine, I... I--” he stops and looks down at himself. He wears only a pair of shorts, “shoot, I--” he clears his throat and searches around, pulling on the button up hung over one of the dining chairs, “got a bit hot.” 

You notice the couch is all made up; crumpled blankets and a wrinkled pillow.  

“Your dad’s in my room. He had a bit too much fun with the beer,” he sniffs.

“Oh, uh, yeah,” you rub your neck. That’s not unusual. 

“You drink coffee?” He asks as he comes forward, “you college girls still have caffeine without all that whip and syrup?” 

You frown at the insinuation. He’s one of those; ‘in my day’, though you sense a flavour of misogyny too. You shrug. 

“I don’t drink coffee,” you answer as he nears, “I’ll have some water and lemon, if you have it.” 

“Lemon water,” he grumbles as he brushes closely, “you on a diet?” 

You squint and let out a scoff, “no.” 

He’s quiet as he looks in the fridge and takes out a large pitcher. His cheek ticks as he thinks, “not that you need to be on one... sorry.” He pours you a glass and slides it to the end of the counter, “no lemons.” 

“That’s fine,” you accept the glass. 

“Well, I was gonna say,” he scratches his beard as he backs up, his shirt still open, revealing his furry chest, “coffee always tastes better out on the dock but... you don’t drink coffee.” 

“Mm,” you hum, “well, thanks for the water. If you don’t mind, I might go out anyway.” 

He nods as he turns, popping open a cupboard to search out the canister of coffee. You linger, waiting for any response. He peels the lid off the container and glances over. His blue eyes makes you shiver. You don't know him very well, he only just moved in your first year of college. Your dad likes him but your his friends never want much to do with you. 

“I’m sorry if I’m bothering--” you begin. 

“Don’t mind,” he answers, “the company, that is.” He turns back to fill the machine and lets out a sigh, “not used to a full house anymore and I don’t think your dad will be up soon enough to share the pot.” He loads the filter and closes the lid on the percolator, “or the others...” 

“Probably not,” you agree. 

He peeks over again as he fills the carafe. You’re suddenly very aware of your own attire, or lack thereof. The loose tank, the floral shorts with the untied drawstring. You sip from the glass and give a sheepish smile. 

“Anyway, I need some fresh air,” you inch away as tap your fingertips on the side of the glass, “maybe I’ll see a few loons before they fly off.” 

His brows rise and fall and he turns his focus back to the sink. He shuts off the water and turns to the machine. You leave him, eager to be away from the tension of your unexpected encounter. On second hand, this is just as awkward as dealing with one of your mother’s random hookups. 

[cevansbrat0007]

Indecent Exposure Pt. I: Bye Bye, Daddy

Summary: You get more than you bargained for when your father decides to leave you in the care of his four best friends, your fake Uncles, while he's on away on tour for the summer. Read Part Two!

Warnings: Mature Themes, Bucky Being A Menace, Brat!Reader, Unwanted Touching, Dad's Best Friend Themes, Older Men/Younger Women Themes, Brief Discussions of Voyeurism, Brief Mentions of Mouth Soaping, Brief Reference to Spanking and Discipline, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Please heed all warnings. Part of my Indecent Exposure Series. If you'd like to be added to the tag list, please let me know.

"But Daaaad.” You whine, drawing out the word as you follow your father into the kitchen. Shoulders slumped, you can’t seem to stop yourself from pouting. 

While you’d initially made peace with the prospect of being left alone for the practically the entire summer before you planned to start your freshman year at NYU, you positively balked at the idea being left in the care of a fucking babysitter. 

Four of them, actually.

“No buts, pumpkin.” Your father drops his carry-on bag next to the door, on top of his other luggage. “It’s not good for you to be stuck in this big old house all by your lonesome. You even said as much just the other week.”

“Yeah, well…” You trail off, pissed at the fact that you’d essentially brought this on yourself. “That was back when you weren’t even sure if you were going.”

At first, your old man had been rather skeptical at going on tour with his former bandmates. They’d had a couple hits back in the day, but nothing major. Even still, they’d somehow managed to amass a bit of a cult following. 

And so when he was offered the opportunity to open for a much larger classic rock band, he just couldn’t pass it up. And you hadn’t had the heart to make him either. Dreams like this seldom came true for anybody, let alone a mild-mannered pharmacist who was pushing fifty. 

“Why can’t you at least take me with you?”

He turns to you then, heaving a sigh before pulling you into his arms. "Life on the road is no place for my little girl. Which is why I’ve asked your Uncles to check-in on you.” He presses a gentle kiss on your mop of curly hair, giving you one last squeeze before releasing you.

“And this is where I’d like to point out that I’m 18 years old, which makes me a full-fledged adult.“ Wrapping your arms around your middle, you try to play it off like you don’t care about him leaving so soon after your birthday. 

But you do. While your birthday had only been last week, you two hadn't even had the chance to embark on your annual fishing trip yet.

“I know that. Of course I know that.” He’s quick to reassure you. “And as a newly minted adult I’m sure you’ll be on your own some nights – the ones when Bucky can’t stay and none of your other uncles are available.”

“Ugh! Can you please stop calling them that?”

Little did he know that you were mere seconds away from covering your ears and letting out a frustrated scream. 

“Well, that’s what they are. They may not be blood, but it still counts.” Your father just shakes his head. Apparently he hadn’t expected you to put up this much of a fight before his departure. “And while it might be true that it’s been a while since you’ve seen your uncles, each one has assured me that they would be more than delighted to keep an eye out for their favorite niece.”

“Dad, I don’t even know them like that! At least not anymore...”

You’re rewarded with yet another weary sigh. “Then it looks like you’ll have the whole summer to get reacquainted with them then, won’t you?” His hands go to grip your shoulders, all but forcing you to look him in the eyes. “Besides, Buck’ll be around. I’m sure he’ll help ease you into everything.”

It’s impossible to stop the derisive snort that escapes the back of your throat. 

“Sweetheart, my ride is going to be here any minute now…” He tells you, making it clear that neither one of you has time for the tantrum you seem so keen on throwing. “You’ve gotta know that I only want what’s best for–”

The two of you are interrupted by the sound of a vehicle pulling into your driveway. And while you don’t recognize it, you’re almost certain that it’s too sleek and expensive to belong to any Lyft driver. 

“Speak of the devil!” Your father suddenly exclaims before throwing open the door and rushing down the steps. Which is fine, except for the part when he decided to drag you along with him. “Bucky fuckin’ Barnes – just in the knick of time too!”

Well, there went Plan A. So much for locking up the house after your Dad was gone and refusing to answer the fucking door for anyone except the pizza delivery guy. 

However, in spite of your annoyance and frustration, you can’t help the tiny jolt of electricity that hums along your skin as you watch the dark haired man peel himself out of the driver’s seat so that he can properly greet you both.  

“Get a look at you, old man!” Bucky chuckles as he enthusiastically brings your Dad in for a hug, lightly thumping his back as he does. “Can’t believe somebody actually fucked up and told you you got to be a rockstar!”

Your uncle’s smile only broadens when he finally lays eyes on you. But it’s the way he’s looking at you that catches your attention – it’s not quite a leer – but his blatant perusal is enough to make you feel the slightest bit uncomfortable. 

“I know!” Comes your Dad’s eager response. “That’s why I’m trying to get out of here before whoever signed off on this sobers up and realizes his mistake.” Both men are grinning from ear to ear when they finally take a step back. 

And that’s when all eyes turn to you. 

“And who’s this gorgeous young lady?” Bucky inquires, his pearly white teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he makes a quiet show of looking you over once again, this time allowing his gaze to linger just a fraction too long on your cutoff denim shorts. 

“Oh, come on now.” Good ol’ Dad reaches over to grab your wrist, pulling you even closer. Which is the absolute last thing you want. “Don’t tell me you don’t recognize your niece.” 

“Is that my sweet, little Clover?” Bucky pretends to rub exaggeratedly rub his eyes while evoking your childhood nickname. “I guess it is. Except now she’s all grown up.” Your Dad drops your wrist in time for the other man to grab your hand so that he can give you a little twirl. "Just turned 18, in fact."

“I heard. So pretty.” He hums, although the words are spoken just low enough so that only you can hear them. “You’ve got yourself a knockout for a daughter, Dale.” You resist the urge to squirm when you feel the roughened pad of his thumb lightly stroke along the ridges of your knuckles. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you kept a shotgun by the door.” 

While you suspect that his words are meant in jest, the only person that laughs is the man who raised you. 

“I actually keep it in the front closet. Which reminds me…” You father turns to you then, pinning you with a knowing look. “Now pumpkin, I know you're not super excited about the current arrangement and all that, but I’d appreciate it if you’d, uh, refrain from having any boys over at the house while I’m gone.” 

You swiftly open your mouth to protest, only to be surprised when Bucky beats you to the punch. 

“Roger that.” He grins down at you, the dimple in his left cheek on full display. “Your Daddy said no boys allowed, little Clover. Do we have your promise you’re gonna respect his wishes?”

Tugging your hand out his grasp, you turn your attention to your Dad, offering up a sugary sweet smile. “But what about Peter? You actually like him, remember? Besides, he’s pretty much my best friend.”

“Well…”

Because you couldn’t fathom the idea of a summer without him. And you just know he’s going to relent and make an exception. That is, until Bucky decides to go and open up his mouth. 

“You heard your Daddy, sweetheart.” He gently admonishes you, a hint of mockery in his tone. “Besides, I don’t think any of your uncles want to have to deal with strange boys wandering around the house.”

“Good man.” Your father agrees, clapping the other man on his shoulder. “And speaking of Andy, Ari, and Steve, this one here is a little nervous about seeing them again. I don’t know why. I mean it’s been a while since everyone’s gotten together…”

“Aww, bug.” He coos, wrapping a brawny arm around your much smaller waist. “Are you worried we don’t love you anymore?” You find yourself gritting your teeth to keep from elbowing him in the kidney. 

Why the hell did he have to make that sound so…suggestive? And how come your father didn't seem to notice? 

“No.” You grunt, hating the man for having the nerve to smell so damned good – like spiced vanilla and cedar. 

“Because we most certainly do. You know, Andy was just looking at your senior picture the other day.” His large, warm hand settles just above the curve of your hip. “He actually sent it to the group chat and none of us could believe just how much our little Clover had blossomed. Right under our noses.”

“A–awesome.” You mumble, wishing he would stop touching you so much. It did funny things to your belly, which you did not appreciate.

“I’m sure he’ll tell you all about it when he gets here.” 

Shock has your mouth falling open, briefly leaving you almost too stunned to make a sound. And to make matters worse, your father’s Lyft picks that very moment to pull up behind Bucky’s sports car. 

“What?” You eventually croak. Not that you receive much of a response, what with both men choosing to abandon you in favor of grabbing luggage and loading it into the driver’s trunk. 

“Alright, pumpkin.” Your Dad calls out once they’ve got everything secured. “I’ll call you from the road. I left instructions on the fridge and with Bucky. You need anything you call me, okay?” 

Seconds later you find yourself pulled into a bear hug. And, because you don’t know when you’ll see him again, you choose not to argue or struggle. You can only hug him back as if your life depends on it. 

“Be good.” He mumbles in your hair. “Listen to your uncles. It may not seem like it, but they know what's best. And you have my word that they care about you just as much as I do.” 

“Okay.” Is all you can muster as you fight back tears. “I–I love you.”

“You know it.” He holds you even tighter. “To the moon and back, plus the galaxy and beyond.” Smiling when he releases you, you watch him climb into the waiting car before giving him one last wave. 

And then he’s gone. You watch unmoving as the car backs out of the driveway and takes off down the road in the direction of the airport. It takes a moment for you to remember that you’re alone now.

Left to your own devices for the entire fucking summer. 

“Save those pretty tears, Clover.” You jump when you feel a hand press against the small of your back. “You’ve got us – me, Andy, Ari, and Steve – and won’t let anything bad happen to you.” Bucky whispers, his mouth hovering just above your ear.

“I don’t need a fucking babysitter.” You growl, stomping towards the front door.

“Fair warning, sweetheart.” He calls after you, his voice tinged with laughter as he goes to follow you inside. “Your Uncle Steve doesn’t like that kind of language. And I’m afraid Uncle Andy isn’t the type to put up with that attitude either.”

“Then tell them they should keep their asses home!” You snap as you reach the stairs, taking them two at a time all the while silently praying that he doesn’t follow.

“All I’m saying is that I’d hate to see Stevie have to wash out that pretty little mouth out with soap.” He calls from the bottom of the stairs, no longer bothering to hide his laughter. 

The fucking pervy bastard was enjoying this!

You slam your door with a flourish, briefly reveling in the sound it makes as it shakes the entire frame. If Bucky, or any of your so-called uncles thought you were still that same, sweet little girl you used to then they were in for one hell of a rude awakening.

Fuck! You’re so busy fuming over your current situation that you have no idea what’s taking place quite literally beneath your feet. For tonight, you decide that ignorance is bliss. If you got hungry later you’d just have to find something on DoorDash.

You throw yourself on your bed with a huff, punching your pillow over and again until you feel some of the rage leave your body. This summer was going to fucking blow unless you found a way to stay busy away from the house. 

Meanwhile, Bucky has taken a seat at the bottom of the stairs. Pulling out his phone he opens the group chat he has with his buddies and proceeds to start typing. Call it intuition, but he had a feeling that he and his friends getting reacquainted with their precious little Clover was going to make for one hell of summer.

Oh yes, this was going to make for one hell of a summer indeed.

END

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@cjand10

[moonxnite]

Yeah my life might be complicated but at least me and [fictional character] are living our best lives right now.

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

「 sugar & spice au 」

warnings: various x camgirl!reader, porn au, college au, roommate!bucky barnes, roommate!steve rogers, roommate!curtis everett, ex!ransom drysdale, pornstar!ari levinson, pornstar!lloyd hansen, pornstar!nick fowler, pornstar!lee bodecker, dilf neighbour!andy barber, friends with benefits, happy hippie fun poly vibes

polls for this au: 1 | 2

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blushing birthday

pop that cherry

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[hansensgirl]

💭 — 𝐇𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐌𝐞 𝐃𝐨𝐰𝐧

summary. — for so long, he’s wanted to hold you down and tell you that he loves you.

pairing. — Dark!Stepdad!Andy Barber x innocent!fem!reader.

warnings. — DUBCON, stepcest, large age gap (andy is 51, reader is early 20s), coercion, lying, manipulation, gaslighting, grooming, taking advantage, perversion, possessiveness, obsession, isolation, loner reader, innocence kink, corruption kink, smoking, smut, Daddy kink, fingering, mentions of oral (both receiving), overstimulation, degradation, praise, blowing smoke in face, missionary, cowgirl, mentions of male masturbation, size kink (andy’s cock is huge), pet names (little girl, little one, baby, sweetie, sweet girl), creampie kink, reader is extremely innocent, inaccurate explanations of sex, virginity loss, spanking, and more. 18+ MINORS DNI!

word count. — 9k

author’s note. — here’s the continuation of my step dad!andy concept that i posted in may. this is before, during, and after the concept. i copy and pasted some of the concept and inserted it here! everything is legal. andy married the reader’s mom when the reader was 18, and he formed feelings for the reader then. MINORS DNI! 18+ ONLY! @hansensfics

Andy sighs deeply as he sits in his room, bones aching immensely. He’s been standing by the window, behind the sheer white curtains for far too long. Fifty-one years of turmoil have caught up to him, but thankfully, it doesn’t show as much as it should. 

He feels your discomfort as much as he does his stiffness. The awkward angle he’s been stuck in is a reflection of your personality. You never socialise like you should, and when you’re forced to, it’s all wrong. 

Andy hates seeing you out of your element. The sight of you sitting on a white lounge chair in a dress you clearly don’t like is painful for him. He knows you prefer his company—that’s why he’s always offering it. 

Today, he planned on showing you his notes from court on a case about a man assaulting his neighbour with a wrench.

It’s almost as if said wrench was thrown into his plans, because now he has to watch you try to keep up with the brain-rotting chatter of unruly college girls. 

Your mother had organised the day with her fellow neighbours who incessantly brought up how lonely you are at the community barbecues. Andy remembers that day very well—he caught you crying out of frustration when you didn’t want to go.

Endlessly, he’s had to tell your mother to let up and leave you alone. Andy understands how you are all too well. Lonely, but content. You never connected with anyone growing up and stuck to your devices—books that are either overrated classics or underrated masterpieces. 

It was no surprise that you were immediately drawn to the twice exiled, unlucky man. Like a moth to the flame, you looked at him with such wonder and stuck yourself to him, yet still remained far. 

Your close connection was only formed when he found you in a pile of tissues and drowning in your own tears. Seconds away from hyperventilating, he pulled you back into the ocean everyone calls reality. To this day, however, he still isn’t sure why you were in such a state. 

The laughter he hears is either fake or simply aggravating. He can’t find yours in that mess, though, and he tries to come up with a reason to take you away.

Andy is your stepfather—he can say anything he wants. Chores haven’t been done yet, your mom’s calling you, we have somewhere to be—I want you all to myself. 

But it feels wrong—feels fake. He strives for authenticity after years of ingenuity. Before, he’d patched the cracks in the facade of his forced suburban life before anyone else could see them. Now, he embraces the breakage. In fact, there is none, because there is no farce.

From the low level of the bed, Andy unfortunately cannot see you. Even though your company is the sun, you remain in a white dress. It’s the face of ingenues all around the world. You shield yourself from the scorching sun, the brightness making your eyes ache. 

The idea of making some lemonade (for you and only you) crosses your stepfather’s mind, and he decides to do it.

“Oh my gosh—So, basically, Elijah and I’s anniversary is coming up! Apparently, he wants us to go to Vegas, which I’m so down for. I’m not sure what to get him, though,” a woman in her early twenties, like you, nearly squeals. Her excitement makes you smile. “He’s not a fan of jewellery, so anything like that is out of the question…”

Her name is easy to remember, and very pretty as well. Gianna, and she’s an interior design major. 

A snort is heard from the chair over—Kennedy, who finds humour in anything and is the nicest to you. “Sex, sex, sex! Dude, that’s the easiest thing ever. Just indulge in whatever fantasy he’s got. Maid, landlord, plumber—”

“—Ha! Let him do anal, GiGi. Get a sparkly plug, some decent lube, and spread those cheeks,” the other friend, Imogen, giggles. She claps at the end of her sentence, and the three women laugh for a few seconds. 

“...We’ve already done anal. For his 25th…” The sheepish admission from Gianna makes her friends hoot and holler. You’re not sure what to say—you don’t understand. 

“Is there anything you haven’t done?” Imogen questions in shock. “Listen, y’know that frat guy that keeps hitting on me? Well, I gave him a chance and we were, y’know, getting it on,” she eagerly spills.

“Getting it on? Just say you guys were raw-dogging and spitting in each other's mouths,” Kennedy interrupts, sipping on a fruity drink. Honestly, they’re all sweet. They keep trying to rope you into their conversations, but you’re not sure what to say, so you stick to little hums and gestures. 

“Shush!—Anyway, we were fucking, and he started to talk a lot. And it was so hot, like he was saying the hottest shit ever. He checked every single kink-box!” Imogen brags, and the others are proud of her. “Like what?” Kennedy prompts, curious to the point where her eyebrows raise.

“Breeding, degrading, praising—even a Daddy thrown in every now and then,” she whisper-shouts. “And, get this, he made me squirt!”

The women continue trading stories about their debauched experiences, and you feel as if they’re speaking another language. You’re not sure what they mean or why the things happened. Questions fill your brain as you purse your lips, trying to give yourself the answers.

“—Uhm, I can take that in for you. I think I forgot to cancel this appointment and they keep you on hold for a while during the afternoon,” you lie, standing up and grabbing Gianna’s empty cup. “Oh, you’re so sweet. You’ll be back soon, right? We wanna get to know you better,” Kennedy says, and her girlfriends nod their heads.

You join them in their motions, before jogging to the sliding door and slipping past it. You place the cup in the sink, and then make a beeline for your room. It’s the space you spend too much time in, to the point that your stepdad has had to coax you out of it on numerous occasions. 

The ceiling is at an angle due to the triangular roof of your home. The decorations might not match but they add a cosy feeling that is reminiscent of autumn. You wish the season could remain all year round. 

There is even a window seat. Andy had it built and installed for you last year on Christmas. It was a dream come true—something you’d always wanted. 

You plop yourself onto the space and pull your laptop over. You turn off SafeSearch and look up the things the women were talking about. Videos with dirty thumbnails pop up, along with articles and a warning about the setting you turned off. You’re too scared to click on the videos, so you stick to reading the articles.

But the words don’t translate well in your mind. You feel like you’re the last person in line in a long game of broken telephone. You’re left with more questions than answers, and so you snap your laptop shut. 

Gnawing your lip, you let your curiosity eat away at you. It nags and it nags until you can’t take it anymore. So you wander down the hallway and stand outside the slightly ajar door to your stepdad’s room. 

“D– Daddy? Are you busy?” you shyly question, standing with your hands clasped behind your back. At the sweet sound of your voice, Andy immediately rushes from his place in front of the sink. His hands smell of your lotion—a bottle he stole from you because he couldn't help it. “No, not at all, little one. What’s wrong?”

The older man opens the door even more for you, ushering you inside. You sit on the end of the bed, and he joins you. Your palms grow sweaty as nervousness takes you over. Bite the bullet, it won’t hurt you.

“Uhm…” you start, “I have some, uh, questions.”

“Hit me. I have some answers,” Andy jokes. 

“Okay…” you unfold the sticky note of the things you wanted to know more about—the things your friends were talking about. “What’s a– anal? Like, the bad one,” you ask, whispering and worried.

Your innocence is like a drug that Andy has tasted for the first time and it has kicked in quickly. He swallows thickly and he wonders why you’re asking. 

“Well… There’s numerous ways to have sex… With penetrative sex, you can penetrate any of your holes. And, you see, you have three holes. Your mouth, a– and your private parts. Anal sex is when someone penetrates your butt, essentially,” he explains, not sure what words to use.

He watches as your face twists in confusion. “What do you mean? They can do that to any of your holes? Like, they put something inside?” you press, voice incredulous and shocked. “Yeah, they put something in, and they move it back and forth. There are things meant to go there, though,” Andy tells you.

Clearly, you still don’t really get it. It’s neither your fault nor Andy’s.

“I– I have more.. S’that okay?” Andy immediately nods his head, looking down to try and look at your list. 

“Squirting… Can you explain that one? Please? And why do people like calling other people mean things? And getting called those? I mean, I get why someone likes it when someone else says nice things—but the mean one, I don’t understand. And why do people like using the word Daddy? I thought that’s for certain people…” you ramble, pulling at the yellow paper until it slips.

“Shh… One at a time, baby. Squirting is something that happens during sex. It’s a kind of ejaculate. And with the mean names, it’s just what people like. It makes them all happy, y’know? All tingly on the inside—like when they get praised,” he says, cock fully hard and face flushed.

“Yeah, but, what’s sex? Oh! I get those tingles a lot… But not in my tummy…” you sheepishly admit, and it piques Andy’s interest. But then, he replays what you said. What’s sex? A question that normal people would laugh at—but Andy is anything but that. “...You don’t know what sex is, baby?”

You let out a whimper—something of frustration and fear and insecurity. It makes his cock throb within the confines of his pants. “...Nuh-uh,” you sigh, ready to dart and lock yourself in your room.

“Oh, that’s alright, baby. Don’t worry. It’s nothing to be ashamed of, okay? Daddy’ll explain it all to you—I’ll be your teacher,” he smiles, but then frowns when you shake your head. “B– But I don't understand any of it! Not when you explain it, and not when I read about it. It’s all so confusing and doesn’t make one bit of sense.”

Annoyance with yourself seeps from your words, and Andy detects the leak. He’s quick to patch it up, though.

“No, baby! Daddy’s gonna teach you it in an easy way! Remember how you didn’t know what acquittal meant? And I told you the definition? Now you tell other people what it means when they don’t know!”

Andy chooses to ignore the fact that it was only your mother who didn’t know what it meant. 

“But that’s different! Even if you explain it simply, my brain just won’t grasp the concept,” you try to reason, so desperate to learn about the things that other women your age are so well-versed in. “Can you show me it, Daddy? Please?”

Your stepfather nearly asks you to repeat yourself. Your request is innocent and full of desperation—you want to be in on the joke that everyone seems to know. His cock has chubbed up inside his boxers, begging for a release and even crying tears of pre-cum.

“You want Daddy to show you those dirty little things, hm? C’mere, baby. Daddy’ll tell you all about it,” Andy encourages, motioning with his hands for you to move closer to him. You scoot your body until your right leg touches his left. “You’re gonna be a good girl and do whatever I say, right?”

When you nod your head, the older man wonders if he’s won the jackpot. Luck is on his side, clearly. After years of struggle, he’s finally got a good thing. And he’s going to take full advantage of it—he’s going to cherish the treasure he’s been bestowed with. 

“Good girl—” Andy cuts himself off with a groan as you preen under the praise, “—so good for Daddy.”

Your stepdad slowly leans in and presses his mouth against yours. The kiss is searing and passionate, but it soon turns rough and possessive. You try to keep up with Andy as he claims your mouth—biting, licking, and sucking at your supple, wet skin.

He tastes of beer and cigarettes, and the smacking of lips grows wetter and sloppier. You let him take control and try to replicate some of his movements as he pushes his tongue into your mouth. Andy holds the sides of your head with two large, strong hands.

But his touch is gentle and encouraging. You let the older man do whatever he wants to do, sure that you can ask him for another tutorial later on. Eventually, he pulls away with swollen, red lips and blown out eyes.

The pale blue (with a tinge of green) has disappeared. Like black paint spilled, darkness is all you can see. 

“You’ve got such a cute little mouth, baby. Think I can fit my cock in there, all nice and snug,” he murmurs, more to himself than you. You’re not sure what he means, but you go along with it and nod your head. Your eagerness is almost unreal—maybe because Andy has fantasised about it for so long.

Moments with his hand wrapped around his large, leaking cock after you said or did something his perverted mind twisted and misconstrued. Showers longer than they should be, and boxers gone in the wash sooner than they would.

“But don’t worry your pretty head with that just yet, little one,” Andy tells you, standing up and in front of you. He gently pushes you back on the bed, and you land with a small thump. Be brings your feet to rest against the edge of the mattress, caressing your skin with his rough, warm hands. “So soft…”

The lawyer brings your left leg up, and meets it halfway. He presses open-mouthed kisses on your moisturised skin, taking in your scent. Eventually the romantic feeling turns ticklish, and you giggle and try to writhe out of Andy’s grip.

Though, there’s a warm feeling that blooms in your cunt. You folds ache, but you’re not sure why. It’s like the tingles you seem to get every now and then, especially when you’re around the older man. 

“Daddy… I feel funny,” you tell him, and Andy halts his movements. 

“What do you mean, little girl? C’mon, tell Daddy,” he urges, genuinely curious. Is it fear? Excitement? Or something more physical? 

“Tingly… And warm… And it kinda hurts—but not in a painful way…” you try to explain.

“Where, baby? Show me where,” your stepfather demands. His eyebrows are mildly knitted in a bit of concern—curiosity. “D– Down there,” you whisper, looking away from his intense gaze. 

A broad hand that belongs to Andy makes a bold move. It moves to your mound, and pushes at your pussy. “Here, baby?” he nearly growls, feeling your warmth and folds through the two layers of fabric that protect you from this ravenous man. 

His fingers dig into your skin and find the bump of your clit, pushing on the nub and watch as you moan softly from the unfamiliar yet pleasurable sensation. “Uh-huh, right there, Daddy,” you mewl, subconsciously bucking your hips upwards.

The feeling is reminiscent of the kind you feel when you press your thighs together—just amped up by a few hundred volts. “Well, Daddy’s gonna make you feel better, okay, little one? This happens sometimes, and from now on, you gotta tell me whenever you feel those tingles. Understood?” Andy orders, and you shyly nod.

“Words. Use your words, little girl. I need to hear it.”

“Y– Yes, Daddy. I– I’ll tell you when I feel tingly—P– Promise.”

“Good girl.” Andy’s hands move to the waistband of your white skirt, and he pulls it down. Your panties go along with it, strings of wetness pulling and breaking when he gets too far. Your pussy glistens in the cracks of sunlight, his white curtains a blessing for once. “Such a gorgeous fuckin’ cunt.”

You bring your hand up to your face and shy away behind it, making Andy coo at you. He throws your bottoms behind him and pulls you a bit closer by your legs. He then looks up at you, pink tongue slowly darting out just a peek. 

Three of Andy’s digits move upwards. He gives them one long, slow lick, soaking them in spit. “Gotta open your legs wide, little girl. Can you do that for me, baby?” he requests, and you immediately nod your head. 

For your stepdad, you open your legs as wide as they can go without hurting. Anything he asks, you’ll do.

“Good girl,” he hums, and he brings his dominant, wet hand to your sopping cunt. Your stepdad tests the waters for a moment, swirling your slick around and caressing your swollen, achy folds. You gasp at the sensation as his large hand covers practically everything. From your clit down to your creamy fuckhole. “Feels good already, doesn’t it?”

You nod your head, and Andy smiles at you. “It’s gonna feel even better soon, little one. ‘M gonna get my cock in that little honeypot’a yours—fuck it nicely and ruin you for other men.” As he speaks, Andy maintains a trained gaze on you. “But you won’t have other men, will you?”

“You only want your stepdaddy, huh? Daddy’s girl—All mine,” Andy murmurs. You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, gently biting down. “I gotta stretch you out first,” he tells you.

Andy pushes his pointer finger in first, and groans as your walls welcome it immediately. He lets the digit slip into you entirely, until it’s buried to the hilt. “You’re doin’ so good for me, little girl,” the older man smiles at you. 

Slowly, he begins to thrust in and out of your channel. His finger glistens with your creamy slick, and Andy curses. Once he believes you’ve adjusted to the first digit well enough, he pulls it out and prods two. 

“How was that, baby?” he questions, but you’re too breathless and at a loss for words to say anything. You give him a simple thumbs up, hoping it’ll suffice. “Use your words, little one,” Andy urges, and you whimper out a simple ‘was g– good’ for him.

“You’re soaking, y’know that? Makin’ a mess all over my hand,” he notes aloud. “So innocent but so needy… You make such a perfect whore for Daddy.” 

Andy thrusts two digits into your drooling hole, and he fingers you with that same slow pace. Every now and then, he makes scissoring motions meant to open you up even more. “Daddy… ‘s so much now. Feels even more tingly,” you tell him, looking at your stepdad for reassurance.

“That’s how it’s supposed to be, baby. Feels good, doesn’t it?” he prompts, and you hesitantly nod your head. Andy is right—it feels so good. It’s like the fluttery feeling you tend to get, the one you felt just a few moments before, but it’s not nagging and it’s better in comparison. “Yeah, that’s it. Take Daddy’s fingers, slut.”

Your stepfather knows he shouldn’t be saying these demeaning things to you—shouldn’t be ruining you—but he can’t help it. 

It’s almost hypnotising with the way your cunt sucks Andy’s fingers in as he penetrates your tightness again. And the way you cling onto him as he pulls them in and out of you is downright pornographic—just like the sounds you’re making. 

“Bet you never even got this far, little one. All you ever did was rub this li’l cunny on whatever you could find, hm?” He wonders out loud. “Poor pussy’s been neglected. S’okay, Daddy’s here, baby,” Andy whispers, and he picks up the pace of his hand. 

He finds that rough, spongy spot inside you. It makes you toss your head back and squeeze your eyes shut, limbs trembling. “D– Daddy!” you cry out, confused yet welcoming his touches. “Shh, it’s okay, baby,” Andy soothes, stroking your sweet spot with his fingers.

Purposefully, he neglects your clit. He knows it’s pulsating—aching to be touched by your stepfather. Your volume raises just a bit, and his cock throbs with every other noise. Your pretty face has formed a frown of pleasure, and Andy thinks to himself he can really get used to this.

“W– Wait. Feels like I needa go to the bathroom…” you shamefully admit, and this time, Andy really chuckles. “You’re so cute and innocent, little one. Gonna give Daddy a cavity with how sweet you are,” he says, picking up the pace of his fingers. He makes sure to keep stretching you out, though.

“Feels like it’s burning and building, huh? That’s normal, baby. Don’t worry. Just take one more finger for me, okay?” Andy skillfully brings you closer and closer to your release. The wet, lewd sounds of your cunt grow louder. “You’re fucking soaking. S’that all for me?” your stepfather asks.

You don’t really know what he means, but you chose to nod your head. At your answer, Andy decides to push a third digit into your cunt. The fit is strugglesome—tight, warm, and snug. You can barely handle his thick fingers, pussy struggling to adjust to them at first. He can’t wait to get his cock inside you.

“H– Hurts, Daddy,” you whine, the stretch uncomfortable. Andy shushes you gently, whispering praises until the pain dulls away and all you can feel is fullness and pleasure. “You’re drippin’ everywhere, little girl. I can’t wait to get a taste of that sweet pussy,” he murmurs, and he continues to attack your g-spot. 

Your cries grow louder and more high-pitched, and Andy knows you’re close. The older man grunts, “That’s it, good girl. C’mon, give Daddy your cream, baby.” Your body goes from thrashing just a tiny bit to seizing when your orgasm hits. 

It takes you by storm. Your eyes squeeze shut and you sob, cunt clamping down on his hand. “Atta girl. Goin’ all dumb for Daddy—that’s what I like to see, little one.” Andy fingerfucks you through your climax, admiring the creaminess that coats his skin. He’s sure some has dripped down to your rosebud, and that makes him so hard.

“Oh– Oh my gosh,” you pant, tears stinging your eyes from the stimulation. “See what I just did, baby?” Andy questions. 

“Uh-huh.” He looks at you, carefully examining the fucked-out look you have on your pretty face. 

“Only Daddy gets to do that to you, little girl. No one else. Understood? You belong to me.”

Obediently, you nod your head. “Uh-huh. All yours, Daddy.”

Your words have his cock twitching underneath the confines of his pants. Andy slowly pulls his fingers out of your wet channel, consoling you when you whine from the sudden emptiness. Your fuckhole gapes just a bit, and it makes your stepdad eager to get his cock out. 

“Damn right, little one,” he grunts, unbuckling his belt and pulling his thick cock out. “See this, baby? It’s Daddy’s cock, and it’s the only one you’re ever gonna go near. Y’know, your pussy was made for it,” he hums, stroking himself from the thick base to the leaky, bulbous head. 

Your mouth parts in interest. Whatever he says and does soaks right into that empty mind of yours. 

Andy pulls you up to the bed with his other hand, strength coming in handy. He puts your head on his pillow and then crawls between your legs, making you part them wide once again. He hovers above you, and you involuntarily clutch the blue fabric of his sweater for comfort.

The older man slaps the fat tip of his engorged dick on your clit, making you flinch from the jolt of pleasure. He then slides the head down to your slightly-stretched hole, and he begins to push in.

When your face contorts in confusion and mild discomfort, Andy is quick to tell you everything is okay. “Shh… It’s alright, baby. You’re fine,” he says, speaking gently and pressing chaste kisses to your face. 

He looks down to where his fat cock pushes into your tightness, stretching you wider than ever before and claiming your fuckhole as his. The sight is mesmerising, and Andy can’t help the groan he lets out from it. 

“Taking my cock like such a good little fucktoy. Fuck—you okay, little one?” your stepfather questions, and it takes you a few moments to respond to him. Slowly, you nod your head. Though the breach is unfamiliar and a lot to handle, you’re determined to be Andy’s good girl and fight through it.

There’s a pain that burns—and you bite onto his sweater to keep quiet. Andy examines your face as he continues to sheath his length inside you. “That’s my good girl. Feelin’ shy, baby?” he coos. “Aw, how cute.”

Eventually, your stepfather bottoms out with his heavy balls against your ass. He hums your name and the pet names he’s given you, waiting for you to pull your pretty face away from his chest. “Show me those doe-eyes, little one,” Andy requests. Slowly, you peek up at him.

Your eyes are big and they still hold that innocence that Andy knows he can’t rip away from you. “Good girl. How do you feel, baby?” he asks. 

“Uhm—weird? Feels different… Deep, too…” you process out loud, and the older man nods with your every word.

“Yeah, I’m so deep inside you, little girl. All the way in your belly.” The thought has him growling, and he begins to shallowly fuck you. You mewl with each of his half-hearted thrusts. The pain is soon replaced with pleasure, one that you immediately grow fond of. “There we go…”

“More tingles,” you note, punctuating your sentence with a gasp as Andy’s movements grow more vigorous. “So many, Daddy.” Your stepdad nods his head and smiles at you sweetly, “That’s right, little girl. That’s what happens when Daddy stuffs his fat cock inside your babycunt.”

When he calls you those two words—little girl—your body reacts. You shy away from him whilst your pussy clenches around his dick, and he bites back a loud groan. The veins at his throat bulge, while his jaw clenches.

“I’m gonna start fucking you now, little one. You just gotta sit there and take whatever I give you,” he forewarns, and you nod your head. “Okay, Daddy.” At your words, Andy begins to pummel in and out of your pussy. Obscene noises come from where you’re connected to him—wet sounds and skin slapping against skin.

Andy looks down and watches as his cock forcefully disappears and reappears, your tightness still not used to such a large intrusion. His heavy balls smack against your ass, where your slick stains. “Drippin’ everywhere, baby. You love this—I fucking knew it,” he grunts, his pounds the perfect speed and intensity.

His cock kisses your cervix each time, making you writhe in pain. But when he rubs against your sweet spot, that discomfort leaves almost immediately. “Look, little one, your cream is all over my cock. You’re leaking down to my balls—fuck,” Andy harshly pushes forward at the realisation.

You wail from the intensity. “Yeah, you like getting fucked by a dirty old man, slut? Hm? Like getting fucked by your stepdaddy?” Andy questions, and you hesitate before nodding your head. He swears once more, and then leans down. 

Though he’s repeatedly knocked the breath out of you, he now stops it from moving at all as he kisses you. At first, it’s soft and what teenage dreams are made of. But then, like the way he takes away your virginity, it grows rough and desperate. He takes the lead, shoving his tongue into your mouth and doing all kinds of things you can’t keep up with.

Andy eventually pulls away, noticing that his thrusts have dulled down. He picks his pace back up, his pelvis slamming into yours. Your cream coats his cock, leaving a stain that even reaches his patch of hair. Your lips are raw and glistening from the passionate, bruising kiss he had you locked in.

Your stepfather rams into your fuckhole without relent, forcing more of your wetness out with his shaft. His length strokes your sensitive walls with skill and aggression, abusing your cunt like he’s always wanted to. 

Your chest is pressed against Andy’s, and he uses one of the hands that holds him up to pull down the top of your shirt, exposing your hardened nipples. The cold air adds to the ache of them. “Stupid little girl making the biggest fucking mess on her Daddy’s cock. Y’gonna clean it up after, baby? You better—with that cute mouth of yours.”

Nodding your head, you make the older man inhale a sharp, controlled breath. In contrast, you pant like a bitch in heat as your chest rises and falls. There’s a feeling that grows at a fast pace. It’s like when you have to go to the bathroom so badly—except this time, it’s more intoxicating than intolerable. 

“D– Daddy! Feels funny—like before, but way m– more?” You’re so unsure of yourself—of your body—that it’s utterly adorable to Andy. 

“That’s called an orgasm, little girl. You just sit there and beg Daddy to let you come, okay?” he requests, and you nod your head.

It feels like something that needs to desperately continue and be alleviated—but you know only Andy can do that for you, so you do whatever your stepdad says.

“P– Please let me come, Daddy! Need to come so bad… Please, please please—!” you gasp loudly, Andy’s cock driving deeper and he grinds with each pump of his cock, rubbing against your clit. “Good girl—such a good little slut for Daddy,” Andy hums, sensing you’re even closer to coming. 

“Soak Daddy’s fat cock, little girl. C’mon, wanna see you make a stupid mess on this dick,” he commands, landing some slaps on your ass and the side of your left thigh. Your cunt suddenly convulses around him, clit thrumming and back arching as you come around his cock for the very first time. “Atta girl.”

He growls as your eyes roll back into your head, lids squeezing shut as your face pinches. Your mouth drops open in shock from the heat that envelops you. The grip your pussy has on Andy’s dick grows tighter, squeezing him and begging for more.

Your stepfather fucks you through your orgasm, slowing down just a bit when you begin to twitch from the pleasure. Your walls spasm until he manages to get you through the high, and then he resumes fucking you harshly. Your tits bounce with each slam of Andy’s hips, your body pushed upwards before he pulls you back onto his dick. “Ah—ah—ah,” you moan, going dumb on the older man’s cock. A mildly blank look is on your face, and you babble like a baby. 

“Dumb little girl—talking about dirty things and behaving like a whore when you haven’t even had big girl sex yet,” Andy sneers, grabbing your jaw and puckering his lips up. He spits in your mouth, before telling you to swallow the wad of saliva. Like a good girl, you do exactly as he says. You even smile at him afterwards, before your face pinches again from the sensations his cock brings. “Greedy girl—that hungry pussy is just swallowin’ up Daddy’s fat cock,” he grunts, forcing his thickness in and out of you.

Your toes curl and feet point as your stepfather pushes your legs against your torso. His strong, well-built arms flex, and so does his muscled-chest. Your hands clench his sweater and subconsciously grope his pecs, and you marvel at his figure. 

Because Daddy has to do everything for his helpless baby, he takes your arm and uses it to hold up your left leg, while his left hand pushes on your right. At this new angle, your stepfather’s shaft is far deeper than it was at first.

It’s almost dizzying—the way he’s practically in your tummy. And his thrusts are now stronger, too. Andy’s got you pinned to the bed as he pounds into you, determined to bring you to another orgasm before he blows his load. And even after that, he won’t stop.

“‘S so deep, Daddy! C– Can feel it in my g– guts,” you whine, and your words make Andy’s cock throb within your tight, wet walls. Your cream drips all over his cock, leaving a thick sheen and ring coating his base. Even his balls are soaked. “Uh-huh—you’re just so tiny, baby. Daddy had to force it in—but now you’re takin’ it like a champ.”

You preen under his gaze and his praise, but your tears still leak. “Aw, poor little crybaby. Daddy’s just fuckin’ you too good, huh? S’okay, I got you,” Andy whispers, wet noises filling the air along with the smell of sex. Your sweet tang is amongst the scent, and Andy knows that later on, he’ll rub your cunt raw with his beard.

“My little fuckdoll… This is Daddy’s pussy now—all mine, just like the rest of you,” he grunts, and your second release hits you all of a sudden. 

You writhe away from Andy as best as you can, but it doesn’t get you anywhere. Instead, your aching nipples end up rubbing against the stitched threads on your stepfather’s sweater, adding to your pleasure.

Andy’s thick length nearly splits you open, having a bit of a harder time to move with your increased tightness. “Good girl—that’s it, go dumb on Daddy’s cock. My good little slut,” he moans, peppering kisses at your jaw and nipping at the skin every now and then. 

Heat spreads inside your body as the mattress gets wetter with each drop of your arousal. “You’re makin’ a mess everywhere, baby. But it’s okay. Daddy knows that little girls like you can’t help it—you need Daddy’s help with everything.”

Mindlessly, you nod your head. You gush around Andy, coating his cock while you have him in a vice-like grip. Your swollen folds get nudged by his dick, and the sight is pornographic—something he can never forget.

“Looks like this cunt is perfect for Daddy to fuck, baby,” your stepdad tells you. “Made for me to use however I want. Gonna turn you into my little whore.”

Andy’s words make your pussy constrict even more around his dick. You practically choke him, begging for his cum without even realising it. “Daddy…” you sob, limbs trembling from the amount of euphoria his actions bring. Your stepfather’s jaw clenches at your use of the title.

“That’s right, little girl. I’m your Daddy,” he grunts, now using your fuckhole like it’s his fist. He fucks into your with vigour, determined to fill you up with his cum before he switches positions. He loves the struggle of getting his dick to fit inside your pussy. “You’re making Daddy feel so good, baby. ‘M gonna give you a nice reward for being so sweet.”

At his statement, you perk up as best as you can. Though it’s difficult to think or say anything. “R– Really, Daddy?” you question, elated at the thought of a reward. “Really, little one. You’re such a good girl for Daddy—all the time, too. Never made me have to spank that ass ‘till you’re crying.”

He mumbles the last part, but you catch a bit of his sentence. You don’t understand him though—crying? No, Daddy would never hurt you. Andy’s said so numerous times—times where you’ve cried in his arms and clung to him like a kitten.

Now, your cunt does the same. It weeps and doesn’t let go of Andy’s dick, and the mounting pleasure inside him is as desperate and needy, too. “Gonna give you a belly full of my cum, baby. I’ll fill you up until you’re leaking with my seed for days,” the older man grunts, before cursing wildly.

“Fuck—fuck—fuck.”

Suddenly, the snapping of his hips stops, and he shoves his cock forward until he can’t move any further. The harshness makes you frown, wincing at the mild pain. Then, warmth fills you up, undoubtedly claiming your walls and coating them with white stickiness. 

Andy pants above you, heart clamouring in his chest as he hit his release. He grinds into your pussy to prolong it, only stopping when his hard length grows sensitive. Already, his cum leaks from the sides of his cock. 

“There we go—now you’re all mine, little girl. And I know you like being Daddy’s,” he smiles at you, coming down from his high. His face has a blush to it. 

Andy takes one of his hands and puts it on your tummy, rubbing your skin slightly to get you to relax. It works—but not in the way he predicted.

“A– Again, Daddy? Please?” you start to beg, taking your stepdad by surprise. “W– What do you mean, baby?” he questions, moving his hand to grip your hip. “Do it again, please. F– Feels so good, made some of the tingles go away…” you explain, tightening your channel at the thought.

“You want Daddy to stretch this pretty pussy out again?” Andy asks. It takes you a few seconds and his index finger pointing to where he is penetrating you for you to answer. “Uh-huh!” you moan out, gyrating your hips to alleviate the newer, fluttery feeling at your core.

“Alright… Wanna play a fun game, little one?”

You nod your head, eager to spend more time with your stepfather.

“Good. It’s called horsey,” Andy says, slowly pulling out of your pussy. You whine loudly at the loss, cum leaking out of you and spilling onto the bed. “Don’t worry, I’ll explain it for your little baby brain to understand.”

Your stepdad grabs your and manhandles your body, sitting against the headboard and placing you in his lap.

Your dripping pussy is against his hard cock. “All you have to do is bounce on Daddy’s cock—feel it? Yeah—and make it go really deep inside of you. Think you can do that, little girl`?” he says, rubbing his dick against your swollen, wet petals. 

Above him, you shudder. The pleasure is almost too much for your little-self to handle, but you push through its intensity. “O– Of course, Daddy! ‘M your good girl—gonna do anythin’ for you,” you mumble, and Andy’s hands pull at the cloth covering your torso. 

It then rips, and he removes the shreds from your body. “That’s right, baby. You’re my good girl,” he coos, reaching down to grab the thick, wet base of his hard cock. He gives himself a few languid strokes, before lifting you up a bit.

The fat, sensitive tip of your stepfather’s cock prods at your hole that’s still mildly stretched-out from his brutal fucking. Andy pushes in, pulling you down a bit so you meet him halfway. He knows it’s going to be deeper than ever—and he can’t wait to see that dumb, empty look on your face when he bottoms out.

But then he looks at your mug, and he finds himself feeling something rotten. Something terrible, sinking in his chest until his lust takes over and turns him selfish once more. No—not selfish… Just complicated.

“Daddy, feels scary,” you admit, trying to fall forward and lay against his chest. Andy tuts, holding you up and giving you one of his charming, sweet smiles. “It’s okay, I got you. Daddy’s here, little one,” he assures you, tone saccharine in a stark contrast to his dirty actions.

As you slide down his length, it becomes more difficult to take him. You try to move away from the older man—run away from his intimidating cock. “Nuh-uh. I thought you wanted to play with Daddy, baby,” Andy pouts, and your heart breaks from his sadness.

“C– Can’t take it, Daddy,” you explain to him, half of his dick inside of you. “Yes, you can, sweetheart. Let Daddy help you, it’s okay.” 

Andy’s hands hold your waist, and he looks down to where he’s connected to you, and suddenly thrust upwards. You fall forward with a cry, unprepared for the new angle. He lets you seek comfort in him and his sweater once more, rubbing his hands up and down the length of your back. 

“Shhh… you’re okay, it’s okay. You’re lucky Daddy pumped your pussy full of cum, baby. It would’ve hurt way more,” your stepfather tells you, waiting for your whimpers to die down. “Daddy’s dick is so deep inside you, hm?”

You nod your head slowly, gripping his sweater and pushing your face into his chest. “I know, little one. But when you start to play, it’ll be fine. Try bouncing, baby. Just move up and down.”

Once again, you nod and try to sit up. Andy’s hands move down to your waist, and you splay yours on his clothed pecs. “Up and down—c’mon, you can do it. Daddy knows you can,” he urges, and you begin to lift your body up. 

You stop when you feel it’s right—when half of Andy’s thickness is left inside you. Then, you slide back down. A growl rumbles in the older man’s chest, his cock throbbing as your walls stroke him. “W– Was that good, Daddy?” you question.

“So good, baby—have you played this game before?” he playfully asks, but then that humour turns to jealousy. The thought of you riding another man’s dick has Andy fuming—possessiveness boiling hot inside him and reaching the temperature of the sun. “Nuh-uh. Only you, Daddy. Nobody else.”

Like salve on a wound, you heal that vulnerability of his with your words. “Atta girl,” he praises. “How about we add a fun little rule, sweetie?” he offers as you continue to glide up and down on his cock. You whimper with each movement, muscles burning from the strain.

“O– Okay, Daddy. W– What’s the rule?” you innocently question, looking at him with your doe eyes. “Everytime Daddy slaps your ass, you have to move quicker, okay?” your stepfather tells you, moving his palms down to the globes of your ass. He caresses the skin gently.

Before you can worry about the pain, Andy lands a sharp smack to your butt, making you yelp. You pick up the pace of your movements, still careful, however. “Such a perfect pussy, little one. So tight and warm and wet… And made for my cock,” he whispers, punctuating his sentences with spanks.

Unfortunately, Andy’s cock doesn’t kiss those spots with expert aim. And you’re too scared to take his entire length. So, your poor legs give up, and you fall forward again. You cry out from the wasted euphoria—gone is the dull fire inside you. But not entirely.

“Aw, you can't do what Daddy does, hm? Poor baby. You need me so bad,” your stepdad coos, but it’s more like he rubs your failure in. “Dumb little girl—acting like a whore even though you can’t ride Daddy’s cock. How silly of you—don’t you feel stupid?”

You let out a whine that turns into a sob, and Andy quickly shushes you. Stupid Andrew, he chides himself, hurting this sweet thing… Don’t you love her? “Baby?” he calls out, trying to coax you out of the shell you’ve crawled back into.

His cock isn’t buried to the hilt like it was before, and the ache between your legs still needs to be taken care of—Andy’ll fix that after. He wedges his hand between your face and his body, pushing you off him roughing and holding your hand in his palm. You frown and cry out from the pain, face twisted in discomfort. 

“‘M sorry, little one. Daddy's sorry. Fuck—can’t help it,” he slurs, hating himself for getting so rough with you. But it’s not his fault he’s this way. You just awaken something ferocious in him—something that needs to be held down with chains and locked away in a cage for eternities. 

Something so terrible yet so addictive. 

“I love playing with you so much—that’s why Daddy hurts you, little one. I love you, I just get excited sometimes,” he explains, cupping your cheek and smiling at you. Eventually, you come around. “S’okay, Daddy,” you whisper, looking downwards. 

“It’s my turn to play horsey now, little girl. All you have to do is sit up straight, okay? Try not to lay on Daddy.”

Andy’s heels dig into the mattress and he bends his knees just a bit, still holding onto your hips. He looks down to where he breaches your tightness, and notices the tinge of pink that mixes with his spunk—the same cum that leaves out of your fuckhole.

At that moment, he ignores it. He stores that thought for later—for when he’s lonely and desperate to feel guilt. Andy bottoms out inside you slowly, enjoying the lewd squelching sounds that come with his action. “Oh, gosh,” you murmur, eyes rolling back into your head.

The hairy base of his cock touches your core, and his balls rest against your ass. Andy’s hands move to your butt, and he spreads your cheeks apart. One of his fingers prods at your other hole. The older man has half a mind to defile your little rosebud that’s sticky with wetness and his cum.

You can feel Andy’s cock so deep inside you; it’s dizzying. The breath is nearly knocked out of you, and you feel as though you’ve bared something to your stepfather that has left you utterly vulnerable. The feeling has you distraught, but Andy told you he’d take away all your thoughts, so it’ll be okay. Right? 

“You're such a good girl for me. So good. My good girl,” Andy grunts, and he’s lifting you off his cock until just the tip remains inside you. His hips then return to the depths of your wet channel. He starts to fuck up into you, and the familiar sound of skin-on-skin reverberates throughout the room. This time, it’s louder.

Andy stares at your pretty face while he fucks you into oblivion, making sure to study each aspect. From the way your eyes roll into your skull when he shoves his thickness into you to how your jaw falls slack so quickly. It’s all for him.

“Daddy—Daddy—Daddy!” you squeal, toes curling and limbs stiff yet twitching. Is it possible to be hooked on the way someone says something? You’re not a ‘someone’ though—you’re so special and so different. The answer must be yes. It must be normal, too.

Your tits bounce with each of his upward-thrusts. This new angle is unlike anything you’ve ever felt—more profound and accurate. Your stepdad fucks into you with such roughness that it’s hard to keep upright. Especially with the building sensitivity in your lower abdomen.

“Fuck, yeah. Take Daddy’s fat cock in this tiny cunt, little one. Fucking take it, slut,” Andy grunts, getting meaner by the second. It’s a helpless habit, and thank heavens that you don’t understand half of the words he’s saying. 

A blank smile spreads itself on your face, but your eyes are full of hope. Hope that you’re doing good for your Daddy. 

“You’re my good girl. My good girl—my dumb little girl. No thoughts in that head, hm? You just wanna please your Daddy and get fucked until you can’t think anymore,” he spits, and the word that diminishes your intelligence has your bottom lip wobbling. 

You want to please your Daddy, but you must be doing something wrong, no?

“Aw, don’t cry, little one. Daddy’s being nice to you, okay? It’s good like this!” Andy quickly tells you, slowing down his thrusts. He grinds into you in the meantime, and he doesn’t miss the way your cunt is gripping him even tighter. “O– Okay, Daddy. T– Thank you?” you apprehensively say, unsure of so many things. 

“Daddy’ll teach you all about it after. Okay? You’re so cute and polite, little one. You’re doing so good for me,” Andy coos, rubbing a thumb on your face. You grin at him before squeezing your eyes shut, feeling that funny sensation inside of you. 

It worsens as your stepfather continues to fuck your guts, stroking your walls with his thick member. In the midst of his actions, Andy craves a cigarette. He wonders if you’d let him blow smoke in your face since you said he can do whatever he wants to you. Of course, you would—you’re such a good girl. 

“Wanna make Daddy even happier, sweetie?” he wonders, stretching one of his arms to reach the bedside table. He pulls the top drawer open and blindly sifts through it. “O– Of course, daddy. Please? Wanna make you happy,” you plead, absentmindedly gyrating your hips on your stepdad’s cock.

Andy finds the lighter grouped with the pack of Parliament cigarettes. He doesn’t bother closing the drawer, but he does bring you closer and forces you to catch yourself on your hands.

Your stepfather—who had promised your mom that he kicked the habit—plucks a smoke from the box and places it between his pink lips. “Daddy? What are you doing?” you question, halting your movements. Andy smiles at you, the cigarette wobbling a bit.

“Don’t worry your little baby brain about it, sweet girl,” he simply tells you, before lighting the cigarette. He takes a drag from it and puffs the smoke back out, satiating the craving he had a few moments ago. He then places it on the ashtray as you watch the grey smog swirl in the blue of his room.

Andy pulls you towards his chest and holds you, fucking up into your cunt. His cock drives in and out of you, balls slapping against your ass and his thick thighs jiggle each time. 

“Uhm… Oh–! Uh, Daddy?” you murmur, finding it harder to breathe. “Shh… Don’t worry, little one. Just soak Daddy’s fat cock,” Andy shushes, and you mewl at his filthy words. 

Your cunt aches immensely, but it’s the kind that is more resounding and pleasurable than anything. Andy abuses your cream-filled fuckhole like it’s all he can do—all he knows how to do. Make you feel good—that’s it. 

He’s spewing grunts and curses, and each time he utters a filthy word, you take note of how gravelly his voice is, how it rumbles in his chest and you can quite literally feel it. It’s a harsh contrast to your high-pitched wails and choked-out moans. 

“Come, little one. C’mon, fuckin’ make a mess for your Daddy,” he demands once more, punctuating his words with hard thrusts. 

Your body comprehends his words, and it starts to have that reaction.

The one where your back arches yet your limbs flail and your head tries to pull away from the crook of his neck. It’s almost as if you’re trying to run away from your stepdad. He won’t let you go, though—he never will. Yet it makes him so hard when you try to escape. 

Your mind soars high above the cotton candy clouds of your skies. You start convulsing around Andy’s member, creaming and soaking him. Your body freezes and you let out a wail that is music to his ears. He cheers you on with small ‘yeah’s that have you giggling slightly. “Good girl.”

Your tits jiggle, and your body jerks upwards as Andy roughly fucks you through your orgasm. “D– Daddy,” you mewl, and Andy simply begins to fuck you quicker. Eventually, those sparks he brought became too much. You’re not sure what to do, though, so you simply writhe on his lap. 

“‘M gonna fill you up again. Gonna pump this cunt full of cum until you’re leaking for days. Turn you into my messy little girl,” your stepfather says through grunts and growls as he sloppily uses your pussy. You nod your head and grin, wincing every now and then.

The older man’s sloppy, selfish pumps grow erratic. Andy then stills deep inside your cunt, burying himself to the hilt. A guttural moan leaves him, one that is louder than intended. He holds your body tightly, not wanting to let go of you.

His white ropes paint your inner walls until the sides of his cock are dripping, and there’s a ring at the base. Spilling inside you, Andy turns you into his cumdump once more. “Fuck,” he groans, your tight pussy tempting him to go again and again. 

Maybe he will. His cock remains locked inside you, and both of your chests rise and fall with exhaustion. “Daddy…” you whimper, cunt sensitive and stretched out from his engorged dick. 

“Shh… Daddy’ll take care of this greedy pussy again, little girl. Don’t you worry,” Andy tells you.

Your hands are on his body, and you brace yourself up using his waist. It’s hard to stay upright with the weakness of your body and the wobble of your arms. 

Andy reaches for the ashtray and plucks the cigarette back up. He dusts the ash off, and puts it back between his lips. He inhales the smog, and then pulls the smoke away to puff out the grey fumes. 

“That’s dirty, Daddy. Don’t do it, please,” you bemoan, curling in on yourself at the sight of your stepfather harming his health. “Well, I guess that makes Daddy a dirty old man, no?” he half-quips. 

Your stepfather takes another drag, and then he pulls you close to his face. Andy exhales, smoke directed in your face and he catches you at the right time. You take a breath in, unexpectedly drawing in the fumes of his cigarette.

You giggle apprehensively—still worried and it’s written all over your face, even if you don’t mean it to. You’ve got that look you always have when you’re trying to fight back your sweet tears, trying not to burst into sobs. Eventually, the smoke goes away. But the revolting smell of it remains, lingering in his room. 

In Andy’s mind, it only makes sense a dirty old man like him would have an equally as nasty habit. 

And to balance it out, an innocent little girl like you on his cock. 

[buckets-and-trees]

Prepare For Takeoff

Title: Prepare For Takeoff Characters/Pairings: soft dark!Mafia!Andy Barber x female!reader Word Count: 1.5k

Content Warnings: vaginal fingering, dubious existing engagement

Logistical Notes: Another piece early in the days of the I'm Your Man AU.

Author Note: I started this AU when I was at an airport, and my recent trip had me thinking of these two again, and it had me wishing I were Andy's to spoil.

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While you aren’t used to being chauffeured to every aspect of your life (nor did you want to get used to it, the driver and vehicle yet another element that Andy insisted on in the new life he inserted you into), you know a security checkpoint where your driver had to stop and speak to someone else is not part of the typical route back to the palatial Barber Estate. You sit up straighter in your seat, looking first to the men in the front, but neither of them give anything away, your bodyguard Shep’s face is the same stoic expression as ever, and your driver Mark only glances into the rear view mirror to meet your eyes briefly.

Your brows furrow and you look out the window. You can only see large white buildings on either side of the SUV, and the overwhelmingly industrial feel has you at a loss for guessing the where and why of your location.

That is until you reach the end of the building and the car pulls around the corner. Now you see these large white industrial walls make up the sides of a row of aircraft hangars. While your jaw doesn’t drop, your mouth opens slightly. The jaw dropping moments as a character in the life of Andy Barber are so frequent, but you are starting to control your reactions a bit more.

The SUV pulls up smoothly to the side of a private jet, sleek and black, the late afternoon sun shining off its metal sides. Mark stops the vehicle, and as Shep opens your door, you are not surprised to see you are stepping out exactly onto a long, blue carpet that leads from the SUV to the bottom of a set of white stairs. At the top of them, Andy emerges from the plane, nodding to you. You smooth down the front of your clothing and glare up at him.

“What is this?” You call up loudly.

“You know what it is.”

“Where are we going?”

“Away for the weekend. Now, don’t be difficult, sweetheart, you’re going to love this.”

You feel a sting in your eyes but quickly blink it away.

You hate this because you know he is right.

Yet again he will undoubtedly give you exactly what you want and go beyond what you could even imagine for it, but because he wants to, not because you want any of it.

That is the constant curse in this relationship.

Everything you want, but all your choices stolen from you before you can make them.

You concentrate on taking deep breaths as you ascend the staircase, mustering the strength that you will need for this. You have to armor yourself against his charm and his cunning. Every moment with him is dangerous.

“I thought it was time to take you away, make you forget the everyday. I know you’ve been under a lot of stress.”

You blink, open your mouth, then shut it again. He is the source of the stress, but you don’t trust what would happen if you said that.

He smirks, then sweeps you into a kiss that immediately sends tingles all through your body, from where his lips press insistently against yours, tongue teasing into your mouth, to the hand he plants possessively onto you hip and the other on your back, pressing you flush against him, down to your toes, legs feeling unstable as he takes your breath away. You are helpless but to cling to his shoulders and kiss him back, because your traitorous body willingly surrenders to him, damn near craves him.

He finally lets you breathe again when you tap against his chest and turn your head, gasping for air.

He kisses your cheek, then your neck just beneath your ear.

Getting your breath back, you give a small huff. “So, what? I don’t even get to pack? You just have whatever I need for the flight and when we get wherever we’re going, I’ll just arrive to a closet full of new clothes and accessories?”

“Naturally.” You can feel his smirk against your skin for a moment before he bites at your delicate flesh.

“This is insane.” You push away from him and step through the open door of the jet.

“It’s not insane,” he says, stalking close behind you.

The interior of the plane is sleek, minimal, but the flavor of the furniture and decor evoke the same feeling as the common spaces of his estate with lush leather and dark wood.

The fact that there’s furniture…

“It’s not normal.”

Hand to your back, Andy ushers you further into the plane. “You’re never going to be subjected to normal again in your life.”

“But what if I liked normal?”

He sits on a leather loveseat and pulls you down immediately next to him, nearly in his lap. He counters, “You liked needing to get to the airport early, check your bags or haul them through security with your three-ounces-or-less limit on liquids, take off your shoes, and trek through the terminals to your gate?”

You sigh and look straight ahead.

He chuckles and beckons over a gentleman who offers a tray of drinks.

“Bourbon or champagne?”

“Thank you,” Andy says, and takes a glass of the dark bourbon.

“No, thank you,” you decline.

“The captain says we are clear for take off on your word, Mr. Barber.”

Andy nods. “Wheels up then. We’ll take dinner in ninety minutes. You can leave us until that point.”

“Call if you need anything, sir.”

You hear the click of a door as the man disappears. Andy takes a slow drink, then presses the glass to your lips, forcing you to take a sip before he sets the glass aside.

You feel the jet begin to move and then turn toward the runway.

“You deserve more than normal,” Andy says, eyes on you, returning to your conversation from moments before.

“Andy…” you hedge.

“I will whisk you away anywhere in the world. I’ll give you everything you want. You’re mine to spoil. You’re going to live a beautiful life with me.”

“Andy,” you start again, but unsure how to counter.

He growls your name and yanks you abruptly into his lap. He cuts any argument you were about to launch into by biting at your lower lip and grinding you down onto his hard bulge.

You whimper and throw your head back.

Andy assaults your bared neck with heated kisses. He knows he’ll have you a pliant mess for him to slake his lust in a matter of moments.

You know it, too.

And you know he’ll overwhelm you with pleasure of your own, never a selfish lover even though every other bit of him is selfish.

His fingers slip under the fabric covering your core without hesitation, and he strokes your labia, gathering more and more of your arousal as the plane picks up speed. Slow strokes back and forth, back and forth. The pad of his forefinger circles your clit and you bite back a whimper.

“Mmm, you know I love those noises you make.” He circles your bundle of nerves again, this time with his thumb, letting two of his fingers dip just slightly into your slick channel. “Give me what I want,” he coos, coaxing with another circle, and another, and you finally break, moaning openly for him.

“That’s it, sweetheart, let me know how good I make you feel.”

He pumps his fingers full into the knuckle now, and not like anyone else you’d ever been with intimately before. It’s only been a few weeks, but Andy has taken every opportunity to become a master of your body and coax and command pleasure out of every inch of you. He knows just how much pressure to apply when fucking you with his fingers, and he pushes into that spongy spot at the front of you walls insistently, repeatedly as the jet leaves the ground, making you cry out and shake on an abrupt orgasm.

You sink forward, hanging your head on his shoulder, but it’s only the first orgasm he plans to ply from your body on this flight. He draws your left hand to his mouth, and hums as he places a kiss first against the band of your engagement ring on your finger and then into your palm, before trailing his lips to your wrist. He eases you down to the floor, and you lay back and watch as he shucks off his pants above you before descending down to sheath himself inside you next, demanding more.

And as he fucks you there, then on another of the chairs, then takes you back to the sleeping quarters for yet more, you bend to his will and his demands and his lust, overcome with everything he is and everything he makes you feel, lost in the complexity of what he’s confined you into. His spoiled and ruined sweetheart.

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[georgiapeach30513]

Let Your Daddy See

Summary: Your boyfriend, Ransom knew you had a crush on the owner of the local bakery. He sees you practically drooling as you watch his hands kneading dough. Always making excuses to go to Andy’s work during his demos. Getting all flustered when he smiles at you, even offering a private lesson…if you want Andy, you can have him. For one night. But it’s Ransom’s choice. Enjoy.

Pairings: Ransom Drysdale X Reader X Andy Barber

Rating: explicit

Warnings:  explicit language, explicit sexual content, teasing, dumb sex jokes, “surprises”, threesome, unprotected sex, PIV sex, anal sex, dumbification, degradation, double penetration, creampie, cameras, surprise! 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 3.7K

Ransom Drysdale Masterlist

Andy Barber Masterlist

You take a quick peek up, and are met with his beautiful blue eyes. Close enough to see the speckling of different hues of blue. His mouth turns up into a smile, and you quickly look back down at his hands. Pushing forward, and pulling back. His veins pop up on his arms and hands with the motion. Cords of his muscles ripple on his forearms. The man did more than bake pastries. He had to have a clear an amazing workout routine that you would love to sit and watch.

Since Andy had opened Butter & Buns you found every excuse to come here on a regular basis. It had nothing to do with Andy, but his goods, at least that’s what you told yourself. He honestly does make the most spectacular delicacies. And the way he runs his patisserie is so inviting. He had demos where he made the fresh breads right in front of you.

And he is even going to be starting classes. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t think about how he would teach. Would he be the type of man that stands behind you, hands on yours as he shows you how to properly make bread? Or would he be the teacher that stands in front of you while his eyes pay more attention to the curves of your body instead, and you learn nothing at all?

He told you about the classes first of course, letting you know you are his favorite customer. You gaze over his arms again as he pushes and pulls the dough. Developing the glutens, and mixing in the butter. It is heavenly to watch. A bit distracting, but only due to how effortlessly he did that. Like a skilled ballerina up on stage. It flows and has an odd beauty to it.

“Are you getting your usual, Sweet Buns?” a girlish giggle brushes past your lips, and the quick glance up at him sends heat to your cheeks. Andy has this way of making you feel like a schoolgirl. Even your hands are clammy, and your throat dries up. “Or can I suggest something different that I know you’re going to love?” You have to look at him, but this time he catches your eyes, and you linger the hold. You couldn’t look away.

“Yeah, of course,” your voice is a whisper as you nod your head, and switch the weight on your feet.

“Oh, give me a break,” Ransom rolls his eyes beside you, and you give him a little nudge with your shoulder. He is ruining this for you.

“Why don’t you grab our coffees, and I’ll get the treats?” He smirks, rolling his eyes again. It’s one of his favorite things to do, but he does walk away to go to the front of the counter, leaving you and Andy alone. “I’m sorry about him.”

“You’d think your husband wouldn’t come in with you if he’s so easily annoyed,” there’s a slight twinkle in Andy’s eye, but you can’t quite figure it out.

“We’re not married,” you answer quickly, showing him your bare finger. “Not even engaged. He’s…” Ransom peeks over towards you, pursing his lips, and narrowing his eyes before ordering the coffee. “What are you wanting to suggest to me?” Changing the subject off your relationship is the best course of action.

“I was playing around with croissant ideas. It’s not traditional, but it’s lemon meringue.”

“It sounds perfect,” almost as perfect as his ass walking to the sink to wash his hands. He meets you down at the register, handing over Ransom’s usual mini scones before giving you his newest creation. It looks amazing, and perfect. Just like him.

“I made this specifically with you in mind, Sweet Buns,” another giggle. You love that he remembers your first encounter with him, and it has since become your nickname. Your hand brushes against his as he hands you the receipt, and his eyes linger on you as you make way to Ransom.

“I made this specifically with you in mind, Sweet Buns,” he mocks what Andy says as you sit down across from him. “Why don’t you admit you got a crush on the baker.”

“I don’t, and he’s a pastry chef,” Ransom blinks at you a few times before taking a bite of your croissant. He doesn’t want to react, but he does. A soft little moan travels up his throat, and you shimmy your shoulders. “See.”

“You completely ignored what I just said,” of course you did. It’s a silly conversation that wasn’t going to get either of you anywhere.

“I ignored you because I don’t have a crush on Andy.”

“Ahh, you just want him to fuck your sweet buns, huh?” You give him a little kick under the table, smiling at him. It is fascinating to see him get a bit jealous. He knows who you go home to, and who you want to spend the rest of your life with. “If he gets your sweet buns, what do I get?”

“You can have the warm muffin.”

“I love it when you talk dirty. So I can have the warm muffin, he gets the sweet buns, what are we going to do with your mouth?” He raises his eyebrows in a suggestive way, and now it’s you that’s rolling your eyes.

“Shut up!” You playfully say, nudging your foot at him. “You know I love you, right?” Smiling, he nods his head, taking another bite of your pastry. Rude. “But I do quite enjoy your wheels turning. Are you seriously dreaming about him with us?” He shrugs his shoulders.

“Stop eating my food. That was made just for me.”

“Unless he’s got another sweet buns that he’s not telling you about,” you are his only Sweet Buns. Andy didn’t have others that he is like this with. You’ve watched him. “If we do this can I frost your muffin and turn it into a cupcake?” You burst out laughing, throwing your head back dramatically. He is silly, even if you love his play on words.

“What is wrong with you?” Or better yet, why did he have to wait to frost your cupcake?

“Or I can always call it a pie shell. Won’t you let me make a cream pie,” he’s saying words, and you’re not sure how serious he is. You’d let him if he’d ask.

“Alright, that’s enough. Let’s go home.”

“Maybe he can butter your buns,” he’s so obnoxious sometimes. “Knead your dough. Oh oh! Maybe frost your cake,” you give a quick little wave to Andy, trying to shoo Ransom out of the shop before Andy hears what he is saying. How embarrassing. Or maybe not.

——

“Ransom! Baby, I’m home,” throwing your keys into the bowl, you remove your shoes. Slowly undressing now because it is Friday, and you are tired of this bra. “Ransom?” You couldn’t smell any cooking, so you figured he must want to go out tonight, you’ll have to persuade him to order in. You just want him, the couch, and reruns.

“Ransom?” You say his name one more time as you pull your shirt over your head, and take off your bra. He’ll be happy to see your titties free. That’s how you make sure he just orders in, and you can stay with and watch television.

“Ransom? Oh my god!” Your arms fly over your chest as Andy smiles at you devilishly. “Why are you in my house, and in my fucking room?”

“It does look like a nice fucking…room,” creep. He was attractive in his place. Being alone in your house with you. And… “Ransom, she did make a great entrance,” your boyfriend steps out of the en-suite, and you look between the two of them. The little slut!

They are up to something, and you just want to rest. In between them. “What is this?”

“Angel,” uh uh. Anytime Ransom starts a sentence with that, he’s up to something. Needing you to forgive him immediately. And of course that makes sense since Andy Barber is in your bedroom with you and your boyfriend all while your arms are over your chest, covering yourself.

Rolling your eyes, you happen to catch a peek, and Andy is a full mast. Pants are completely tented, and you feel a rush of heat pool at your core. He’s as big as you imagined, bigger even. This is about that conversation you had Butter & Buns! Ransom brought this man here for a threesome, and both men are ready to go.

“I had some thoughts about our conversation the other day…”

“And I overheard everything,” oh my god! Andy overheard every stupid joking detail. This is too much. “And I approached Ransom.”

“No, you didn’t. I went back to the buttery buns, and approached you.”

“You stuttered, and couldn’t get the question out, so I proposed a deal. I get your ass, if you agree.”

“But I’m in control,” it is like watching a ping pong match as the two of them go back and forth. Each making sure you know that they’re more manly than the other with no regard of what you want. You didn’t ask for this. Ransom and Andy just assumed. They didn’t exactly assume wrong.

You have dreamed of this very moment. You didn’t want Andy in your life, you just wanted him in your body. Have a little fun with your boyfriend. He did say his fantasy was to watch you be destroyed before he joins in. Watch as your cunt is being refused stimulation, and he waits for you to beg before joining in. You just don’t beg. You never beg.

Okay, maybe you have dreamed about the man destroying you being Andy once or twice. But the principle of the matter is they didn’t ask. “Angel, if you didn’t want me to know that you have fantasized about this, maybe you shouldn’t leave your fucking journal open on the bed. With a very detailed explanation of what you want Mr. Butters and me to do to you.”

“You caught that, huh?” Ransom is far from being dumb, but sometimes he just needs a little nudging, especially since you found out that he wanted Andy to be the man that joined you. You gave him a little hint by leaving your journal on his side of the bed.

“You made it obvious. So quit playing coy. On your knees. I can literally smell your arousal. You know I know your cunt better than you do. On your knees, and let Andy fuck your ass. I won’t ask again. And be a good girl, and drop your arms. Go on. Let me see.”

He’s such an ass when he’s right. You let your arms fall, and you glance towards Andy. His eyes coast down your body as you start to pull your pants down. Andy licks his lips as he stares at your pebbled peaks. He’s ready to devour you. Ready to turn you into the mush, and become completely pliable like his doughs.

You came home tired, but a new sense of invigoration courses through your body as the bed dips down with your weight. Leaning forward you let your head rest completely on the mattress, and your ass full on in the air. Both men walk behind you, their eyes taking in your sex before Ransom’s lithe fingers move through your folds.

“She’s soaked,” he moans before slapping at Andy’s hand. “Nope, you can’t touch her until I say so. You must inspect the goods. She expects this from me. See,” he pulls you apart at the seam. Spreading you out fully for Andy’s hungry eyes. “The tightest pussy I’ve ever felt. But this…this pretty little hole,” Ransom spits down at your puckered entrance before rubbing it around your muscle.

“This is going to be all yours. You can’t have her needy little cunt. But her ass is just as greedy, watch,” you whimper as he presses a finger past the tight rim. Pushing yourself back into him. “Go on, I’ll warm her up, but you get nice and lubed. She has a bit of an attitude problem, but you fill her up, and she’s the most obedient little sex doll, aren’t ya? Such a little slut drunk on cock.”

Your brain goes fuzzy as you anticipate two cocks at once. Overwhelmed is a perfect word for it. Feeling all the feels, while Ransom pumps his finger in and out of you, and his sinful mouth never shuts up. “You can come in her or on her, but you can’t have that tight little pussy, okay?” Andy groans, coating his cock in lube.

He fists his thick veiny member a few times, starting to move closer. Ransom’s need for mirrors in the bedroom is paying off. You’re able to see Andy’s wide body and thick hands take in your holes. He looks massive behind you. “She’s so pretty when she gets stuffed, too. Look at her, ass in the air, and ready to be fucked so hard. In and out. Filled fully. Every little hole.”

Andy clears his throat, and Ransom reluctantly pulls his finger out of your ass. Smiling when you whine at the loss of him. Starting to rock on your knees because you need a replacement. “Easy, Sweet Buns,” his thick hands grab tight to your hips, digging into your skin with so much force you hope it bruises. Andy teases your tight hole with his cock. “You going to be a cockslut for us?”

“Mhmm,” mewling as his blunt mushroom tip breaches your entrance. Your fingers grip tight to the bed, and your eyes shoot open, trying to find your boyfriend’s handsome face. Staring at him with so much need as Andy slowly sinks into you. Doesn’t stop until he’s balls deep in your ass, and you're ready for Ransom to fill you up, too. You need him. It isn’t fair you can’t have him, too.

“Shh,” he sighs, petting your face. “Let big daddy Andy have some fun, okay?” You nod your head, but reach towards Ransom. Holding onto his hand as Andy slowly pulls out of you, and crashes back into your warmth. Yipping when he does it again quickly.

You never look anywhere, but Ransom’s handsome face. The way he’s adoring you even more for allowing your crush to own your ass. Rutting into you at such a steady pace, and yet you still feel empty. Ransom belongs in you as well. “You’re doing such a good job.”

“Sweet buns, you should really get on top of me. Let your boyfriend watch that neglected cunt as I fill every inch of your ass. He can see that pretty pussy weeping with need for him. Crying out for him because you need him so much. Doesn’t that sound good?”

“Yes! Yes!” Shouting because you need Ransom to see how empty you are without him. How much you need him inside of you more than some fantasy. “Please!” He nods his head, and Andy pulls out of you, and crawls on the bed. Letting you turn your back to him as you settle over top.

Able to watch every part of Ransom as you slowly sink over him. Moaning as your body swallows him whole, and Ransom’s eyes go to your core. Staring so hard at where he is supposed to be. You’ve already told him too many times that your body was made for him. “Do you like it, Ran?”

“Yes, very much so, kitty cat,” placing your hands behind you, and on either side of Andy, you start bouncing over top of him. Letting Ransom see a part of you not filled with him letting her beg him, because you won’t with words. Your body cries for him to enter you as your arousal leaks onto Andy. “You’re so perfect,” he moans, and you go harder.

Bucking on top of Andy, and ready to whine out Ransom’s name. “Make yourself come first. You needy little brat. If you want two cocks, come. Go on. You can do it,” you slam yourself over him harder. Enjoying the view even if it's torturous. “You’re almost there. You’ve got this. Keep going. Don’t stop. That pretty pussy needs my pretty cock inside of her, huh?”

“Yeah. Please. Ransom, I’m…” heat and pleasure rush to your core. It’s almost cruel to come like this. A big part of you is being ignored, and no matter what you do, Ransom isn’t budging. “Ransom, I’m…”

“Then do it, you filthy little slut,” that does it. Pleasure shoots into every part of your limbs as your eyes roll into the back of your head. Slowing down your movements, but Andy picks up where you leave off. “Clenching around nothing, and I got the front row seat to heaven,” his voice is so deep as he stares at your empty cunt.

Getting onto the bed before his lips meet yours. He tastes like sin and dessert as he swallows your moans, “You needed this,” he says before crashing into you. Both men pause as sounds you’ve never made before scream out of your lungs.

Giving you a grace period for you to adjust to just how incredibly full you feel. Stretched out in the most perfect way, and getting to have and feel Ransom finally. He fits so perfectly inside you. You’ve never doubted how he is made for you. He even feels just as much pleasure as you, just feeling how different this is. It’s overwhelming. Blinding. Makes you feel as if you’ve ascended to heaven.

Everything in your body ceases to stop functioning. You’re just there. Existing for nothing but pleasure. Obviously for them, but what you feel is like a religious experience. Floating in the air with the most beautiful high encasing your body.

“There she is,” Ransom coos down to you. “I thought I’d lost you to the pleasure,” what is he talking about? You’re just feeling. “I think you blacked out for a minute. Just kept saying my name, but barely.”

“Mmm.”

“Cockdrunk,” Andy is just a vessel. A tool to add to the fun. If it wasn’t for the severe amount of fullness you feel, you wouldn't know he is even there. All you care about is Ransom. Head rolling around on your shoulders. “Alright, let’s flip. You just lay there, and take care of your girl, while I fuck her.”

“You want that, baby? You want Andy to fuck you.”

“You.”

“You’re too far gone, baby. Yeah, we’ll switch,” you want to cry as Ransom pulls out of you. Already reaching out to him as he lays down on the bed. “Come on. C’mere,” it’s Andy that helps you move over to him. Guiding you to sink over Ransom, and you start kissing on his beautiful face. “I know. I know.”

The last words you remember as Andy slams into you, and you scream. Fuck it feels so good. So full. So very full. If you could float out of your body, and watch this experience you would. The world doesn’t exist. It’s just nirvana. You try and ground yourself with the touch of Ransom, because he is perfect. Rubbing over your face. Whispering your name because you forgot.

Andy’s movements are harsh and about him getting off; Ransom is about you and him. So sweet. So perfect. So in love with him. You didn’t think you could love him more, but a man willing to have another man in your bed because you’ve fantasized about it is the perfect man. “Ransom!”

“I know, just let go. Come on two cocks,” his hips drive up into you, and you collapse on his chest. Incoherently saying his name. “Come,” he whispers into your ears, and rockets go off in your body. Shooting endorphins and pleasure to every nerve ending as your body seizes up. This is it, the true escape of the world, and absolute bliss.

“She’s. So. Fucking. Tight,” Andy grunts, thrusting into you so hard your body lurches forward. “So. Fucking. Good. Ugh!” Growling behind you as his movements become irregular. “Right. There!” It’s like everybody’s body is synchronized. Your walls flutter around their cocks, and they each shoot warm ropes of thick cum into your body, and you’re buzzing. A high like no other.

Long weeks are meant for going dumb, and what better way to escape than this. Andy pants behind you, while Ransom’s fingers softly caress your body. His lips ghost over your skin, and you feel yourself start to drift. Feeling so comfortable and exhausted from the week.

“I thought I was supposed to come in,” you relax on top of Ransom’s body, soaking up the afterglow of his release. He feels so warm inside of you. His cum right where it belongs. He wasn’t ever going to waste a drop again.

“Shh,” Ransom says softly as Andy pulls out of your body.

“No, you said if I set up the cameras, that I could fuck her mouth,” Andy rolls his eyes, grabbing a camera off the tripod and points it at your used holes. “Oh, yeah, don’t forget the money shot. But you wanted all her holes to be dripping in cum. It was a gift before you propos…”

“Jake! Shut up!” Jake Jensen mumbles something under his breath. You nuzzle into Ransom more before you drift off to sleep. You’ve never felt more satisfied. “Yes, next time I’ll make sure she’s airtight, but we got to ease her into it. And besides…”

“We know, Drysdale,” Andy hands Jake the camera before going to his clothes, “You’re marrying the girl, but she is okay with being used from time to time. Did you even know she was interested in Jake before her journal?”

“Nope. Why would she be into him?”

“I’m right here, and I am lovable!”

“Alright, go on. Next time I’ll| make her watch herself being used first. Maybe over some sweet buns,” Ransom gives a little chuckle to Andy. “There there, sweetheart, these men are going to leave, and I’m going to give us a bath. The rest of the weekend is about you. You’ve had such a hard night.”

No. It was almost perfect. Almost.

Masterlist

@tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @peaches1958 @seitmai

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@pandaxnienke @donutloverxo @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @bambamwolf87 @rogersbarber 

@harrysthiccthighss @distractingbeth @musingsfromthemitten

[witchywithwhiskey]

12 and 17 Andy Barber💖

dreaming of a rainy spring morning

pairing: husband!andy barber x female reader

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), smut, dry humping, consensual somnophilia, piv sex, creampie, cockwarming, dirty talk, praise kink, very light bdsm, begging, teasing, pet names (wife, husband), sleepy cuddling, fluff, established relationship

word count: 1,200ish

a/n: i hope it's ok that i pulled from the smut prompt list instead of the fluff one—they were just more inspiring: “where are your manners?” + “beg for it.” i wanted to do something soft and i had the idea for this because it's rainy here today (and i probably should've done more rainy day fics since it rains so much in the spring 🫣). anyway, hope you enjoy!! ♡♡

The rain was a steady pitter patter against the windows, a soft morning light trickling through the glass and casting a cool, gray glow over the chilly bedroom. You took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of earth and water that filtered through the cracked window that had been left open overnight. Letting your eyes flutter closed again, you reached blindly across the bed until your fingertips brushed against the familiar warmth of your husband, Andy Barber.

Outside, the rain picked up its pace and a fierce wind ruffled the newly sprouted leaves of the spring trees, but inside your home, you were safe and warm—and you had other things to concern yourself with. Like squirming across the bed beneath the blankets so you could curl around your husband’s side, draping a leg over his thigh, feeling the hair on his tickling your skin.

With a soft sigh of relief, you settled in beside Andy, breathing in the familiar scent of his soap and feeling your body warm at his closeness. You tried to let sleep reclaim you, but there was a restlessness in you—a low, simmering heat in your core that didn’t allow you to slip back into the comforting embrace of sleep. Instead, it smoldered until it refused to be ignored.

Sleepily, you shifted your body until you lay on top of your husband, your thighs on either side of his hips and your bare pussy pressing against his soft cock in his boxers. You’d worn one of Andy’s t-shirts to sleep, but that was all you had on, while he wore his boxers and a t-shirt of his own. You grumbled a little at that, wishing you were pressed skin to skin with him, but you didn’t want to make the effort to wake him and undress.

Instead, you rocked lazily against Andy’s bulge, feeling his cock twitch and come to life. A mischievous smile curled the edges of your lips as you felt him harden beneath you, his cock stiffening beneath your puffy folds. You slid your messy slit against him, your clit bumping against the tip in such a delicious way, you had to bite back a moan. 

You still had your eyes closed, your cheek pillowed on Andy’s broad chest while you took your pleasure at a leisurely pace. But soon it wasn’t enough. With as little movement as possible, you inched up Andy’s body until the tip of his cock was prodding against your slick hole. You were wet enough that he slipped in easily and you pushed back, taking the head into your tight, warm cunt.

“Where are your manners?” Andy rumbled, his voice gruff with sleep and startling you a little. But there was a hint of teasing in his tone that made you smile, happy your husband was up to join you in your morning delight. “So needy, wife—you can’t even wait until your husband’s awake to start playing with his cock, huh?” 

“Sorry, husband,” you purred, not feeling sorry at all as you arched your back and pushed your hips down further on Andy’s hard length. “You shouldn’t have given me permission to do what I want while you’re sleeping if you didn’t want to wake up with my needy pussy wrapped around your hard cock.”

Andy groaned, his hands lifting to your hips and, with a brutal shove, he impaled you the rest of the way on his length,  stuffing you full with one move and wringing a sharp gasp from your lips. He grunted at the tight squeeze of your inner walls and pressed a kiss to your temple, his beard rasping against your skin and making you shiver.

“Love waking up to your perfect cunt on my cock, wife,” he rumbled, his hips thrusting up lazily while you moaned and rocked back onto his cock. “So soft and warm and wet for me—you feel perfect, wife, perfect.”

Your fingers sank into Andy’s thick hair and you guided his mouth to yours as best you could without opening your eyes, your lips finding one another in the dim light of the morning. Your husband kissed you as sweetly as he’d spoken his words of praise, filling you with every ounce of love in his heart while you poured your own back into him. 

The soft clapping of your skin against his set a new rhythm in the room as the rain continued outside, but you were too wrapped up in your husband to notice anything beyond him. When your mouths finally parted, you gasped and moaned while he grunted and groaned beneath you, your bodies writhing together and seeking pleasure in each other. 

“Andy,” you cried softly on a gasp, burying your face in his neck while your fingers curled in his hair, clinging on to him as ecstasy swirled through your body. “I’m gonna—please, husband,” you mumbled, knowing you didn’t make sense, and knowing it didn’t matter because Andy would know what you needed because of the way your pussy was fluttering around his thrusting length.

But it seemed your husband wanted to pay you back for waking him up early because his next words weren’t a soothing acknowledgement of your looming release. They were a dirty demand, rumbled right into your ear.

“Beg for it.”

A whimper escaped your lips at the command, the gruff sternness in Andy’s voice only making your body clench tight as you barreled toward your release. You were so close that all you could do was submit and give Andy what he wanted. 

“Please, husband, please make me come,” you babbled, the words falling from your lips easily as you were driven by your need for satisfaction. “Wanna come all over your big cock, wanna feel you spill inside me—please, please, oh god, Andy, please!”

“Good girl,” he cooed in your ear, gripping your ass in his big hands, making you squeal as his fingertips dug into your plush softness. “Now, come,” he growled through gritted teeth, holding you still as he fucked up into you, bouncing your hips on his cock and grinding against your clit in just the right way to set you off.

You came with a scream that you muffled against Andy’s shoulder, your mouth open wide as you wailed in ecstasy, your whole body trembling as waves of pleasure washed over you. Andy’s arms flexed against your sides, holding you pinned down on top of him, your pussy rhythmically squeezing his cock while he rutted up into you. It wasn’t long before he was groaning his own release, his cock twitching deep in your cunt as he came inside you.

When he was spent, Andy heaved a heavy sigh and sagged back into the bed, leaving you to stay sprawled across his chest, his softening cock still wedged in your pussy. Your chests were pressed so tightly together, you could feel his heartbeat pounding against his ribcage, and you smiled, ducking your face to press a kiss right against his sternum.

“Go back to sleep, wife,” Andy muttered, running his hand down your spine to soothe you. His soft touch made your muscles melt, and sleep crowded into your consciousness.

“Yes, husband,” you mumbled, already halfway there.

Between the steady beating of Andy’s heart and the constant pitter patter of the rain against the windows, you were lulled back to sleep with a smile on your face. As you slept, you dreamt of your husband, and the love you felt when you were tucked safely into the warmth of his arms on a rainy spring morning. 

[evansbby]

𝐖𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐☆.｡.:*

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐈𝐈 - 𝐔𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐈𝐧𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: mean jock!Ari Levinson x naive!reader

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: extreme voyeurism, daddy!kink, drugs (ecstasy), smutt, dd/lg vibes, dubcon, choking, dark Ari, liar Ari, cheater Ari, mean Ari, size difference, innocence kink, naive reader, 18+ only, minors dni!

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Finally sick of Ari's lies, you're determined not to fall victim to his charms again.

𝐀/𝐍: This is part 2 of my fic, Wicked Games. Oh, I'm nervous about posting this! Please forgive any mistakes! Major warning for drug use and dubcon smut! Also, we finally find out who the second love interest it! Word count: 14.7k.

Coming to this party was a huge mistake, and you realise that the moment you enter the frat house. The music’s so loud, you can barely hear yourself think. You definitely can’t hear your friend Wanda, who’s excitedly mouthing stuff at you as she hands you a shot. You quickly down it with her before taking in your surroundings: the whole room is dark and packed, with red and black strobe lights thumping along with the music. Bodies writhing at every turn, people laughing, screaming, kissing and more.

And then you see him. Amongst the sea of what feels like a bazillion people, Ari stands heads above them all. The 6’6’’ captain of the basketball team, so handsome in a white shirt that clings snugly to his muscular biceps. Even with a snapback resting backwards on his head, you can still see tufts of his long brown hair curling at the base of his neck. God, did he have to be so goddamn hot?

Of course, he’s staring straight back at you, and you know you should look away. But you stand there, gormless and entranced like a schoolgirl. Watching him take in your body, letting his eyes trail leisurely down your form and drink everything in. He’s a fair distance away from you and half obstructed by dancing bodies, but you somehow still see his pink tongue peak out and run over his lips hungrily as he gazes at you.

Your dress is fire-engine red, daringly short and so form fitting that it barely covers your butt. The material is stretchy, hugging your body as the neckline dips lower than what you’re normally used to. You know Ari recognises the dress by the way his Adam’s apple bobs up and down. His eyes are locked in place, taking over your accentuated curves and pushed up cleavage.

He’d seen it in your closet a few weeks ago, and you remember how he’d picked it up and whistled. “What a slutty dress, baby.” He’d said, “Why don’t you put it on for daddy?” And of course, you had. You did anything he asked you to, and you’d never forget how dark his eyes had gotten, and how sombre he’d looked as he’d beckoned you over to his lap, his hands running up and down your body covered in the thin red fabric. “I don’t want you wearing this dress in public, okay baby? Slutty dresses like this are for my eyes only. Promise me you’ll never wear this for anyone else.”

And promise you had, but yet here you were. And you can practically see the smoke billowing out of Ari’s ears, and you can see his jaw clenching as he’s unable to rip his eyes off of you. And you feel almost bad for disobeying him, until you see a pink manicured hand grab Ari’s face and pull him down for a kiss. Sharon. He was here with her. But of course, he was here with her! She was his girlfriend, after all. And you were the gullible fool who he’d strung along the whole time he was with her.

It had only taken you a few days after your last hook-up with Ari in the locker-room to realise that he had not broken up with Sharon like he’d told you he had. You’d seen them together on the campus courtyard, hand-in-hand, Sharon looking happier than ever. She definitely didn’t look like someone whose uncle had just died. Ari had seen you too, and all he could muster up was a sheepish look before his girlfriend had dragged him away.

That had been last week, and since then, he’d been texting you nonstop.

Ari: Baby, it’s not what it looks like. Me and Sharon are just friends now!

Ari: Okay, fine. We got back together. But, baby, it’s only temporary ;) You know you’re my number one girl.

Ari: Send daddy a pic, baby girl ;)

Ari: Okay, I get that you’re mad but you know I don’t like it when you ignore my messages.

Ari: I miss you, baby. Let’s FaceTime soon, okay? Wear something sexy ;)

Ari: Fuck you. I’ve got plenty of other options.

You prided yourself on not answering even one of his texts, despite the fact that you could feel your resolve weakening all week. But you were determined to never speak to him again, and definitely never be his play-thing or side-chick again. And now here you were, at a frat party that you’d let your friend Wanda drag you to. Which you definitely didn’t come just so you could show Ari exactly what he was missing out on. Definitely not…

Tearing your gaze away from the beefy basketball captain, you pour yourself and Wanda another shot each, cringing as the colourless liquid sloshes down your throat. But the burn is a welcome change from the heartache you feel, knowing you’re in the same room as Ari and her. You dare to peak back at them one more time and hate yourself for doing it because now they’re dancing together, although you can see Ari still looking straight at you while his girlfriend’s back is turned.

“C’mon, let’s dance.” You drag Wanda to the dance floor determinedly.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Little Miss Side Chick.” You hear a deep voice in your ear as two heavy hands land on your hips. Wanda has already busied herself with dancing with a guy you vaguely remember from freshman orientation, so you turn around and come face to face with another basketball player. Tall and rugged, hair buzzed off and tattoos smattered all over his chest and arms. Curtis.

“What do you want?” You sneer, because Curtis is Ari’s best friend. And anyone associated with Ari is an enemy to you.

“Whoa, retract your claws, kitten. I’m not looking for a fight.” Curtis smirks, his hands firmly planted on your hips, swaying you along with him to the upbeat music. His body is practically glued to yours, and you can’t help but inhale his manly scent. It’s some type of aftershave that you don’t recognise, but boy does it smell good.

“Well, I don’t care what you’re looking for!” You raise your chin up at him defiantly, despite the fact that he’s more than a head taller than you. “And you can report that back to Ari, okay? And then you and him can both go to hell–Whoops!” You stumble forward in your high heels and cling to the beefy buzzcut-haired man in front of you to regain your balance. Curtis’ hand travels up to the small of your back as he pulls you closer, a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Careful, kitty kat.”

“Don’t call me that!”

“But you let Ari call you whatever he wants.” His lips brush against your ear as he whispers, and you can’t help but cling to him. You feel like a small fish in this gigantic pond of a party, and Curtis feels solid as you teeter in your heels. You see the glint in his eye as he flashes you a smile. “I’ve heard you getting fucked, you know.”

You pout, “That’s really pervy, Curtis.”

“Yeah? I feel like you and Levinson both love an audience. You want a drink, kitten?”

 “No!”

“C’mon, you look like you need a drink. I mean, just look at you. Standing in the middle of the dancefloor looking all cute and pouty like a little baby.”

“ ‘m not a baby!”

As if on cue, you pout again. But you let Curtis drag you back to the drinks table, watching in awe as he mixes different things together in a crystal glass he seems to have conjured out of nowhere. Something compels you to look over your shoulder, and you spy Ari from across the room. Sharon’s arms are around his neck but his eyes are still boring holes into you. He’s got a can of beer that he’s currently crushing in his fist, and even in the darkness, you can see his face going red as his lips pull into a sneer.

Oh, he was jealous!

You giggle and give him a wave before pointedly turning back to Curtis and accepting whatever drink he’s just mixed for you.

“A baby drink for a baby like you.” Curtis pulls your cheek condescendingly and you scowl before eyeing the concoction in the glass. It’s a pretty pale pink colour and smells kind of fruity. You look up questioningly at Curtis, who crosses his arms over his chest as he grins like a Cheshire cat. “Go ahead, kitten, it won’t bite. I told you, it’s a baby drink – you wouldn’t even know there’s alcohol in it. Tastes like strawberries and cream.”

“Well… that does sound yummy.” You dip your pinkie finger in the drink and swirl it around, pretending to consider it. Your eyes dart sideways in Ari’s direction once more. And he’s still staring at you, despite the fact that his girlfriend’s all up against him, whispering something in his ear. God, that makes you mad, and you down the drink without a second thought. It goes down your throat easy, with a pleasantly fruity aftertaste. You look up at Curtis and beam.

“You were right! Tasted much better than shots! Could I have another, maybe?” You bat your lashes at him and he smirks. But he makes you another one, and you down it quickly, trying to flush away any thoughts of Ari and Sharon out of your mind. Screw both of them!

“Easy there, kitty kat. It’s a drink, you don’t have to down it like a shot.” Curtis grins, and it’s only when you feel his arm around your waist that you realise you’ve fallen into him again. Whatever he’d put in your drinks seems to already be hitting you, but you don’t care, don’t care, don’t care! And Curtis’ thumb rubbing circles on your hip feel kind of nice, and so you let him hold you as you sway, blinking rapidly as the alcohol mingles into your bloodstream.

“You know, kitten, there’s a bunch of empty rooms upstairs. Maybe we could find one ‘em so you can lie down for a while?” Curtis whispers beguilingly in your ear, his lips brushing against your skin and making you shiver in your tiny dress. He casually plays with the flimsy straps, pushing one down and exposing your shoulder. A second later you feel his lips press against your exposed skin, making your heart jump with thrill. There’s something hard poking against your stomach, and you giggle and bite your lip.

“Don’t think I can get up the stairs, Curtis. Can’t even… Can’t even stand up straight!” He’s supporting most of your body weight as you lean heavily into him, loving the feel of strong, beefy arms around you. It’s dark enough that you can almost imagine they belong to someone else…

“Don’t worry, kitten, I’ll carry you up there. Babies like you are meant to be carried, right? And I want to hear you scream like you did for Levinson in the locker room.”

You barely have a chance to consider his proposition before you feel a heavy hand grab your arm and pull you backwards. You stumble in your high heels before your back collides with a very solid, very sturdy chest.

“She’s off limits, Curtis. You know that.” Ari’s voice is low but firm, and you turn to see the captain of the basketball team glaring daggers at his teammate and best friend, his brows furrowed and lips set in a thin line. His fingers are curled around your upper arm, not showing any signs of letting go as he looms formidably like a giant by your side. Sharon’s nowhere to be found.

“Oh yeah? You finally ready to jump ship from one girl to the next, Ari?” Curtis grins, wholly unperturbed as he pops open a can of beer and takes a long swig.

“Very funny, asshole. Go find someone else to take advantage of.” Ari says wryly, still holding you with an iron grip while you gape at both of them. And a part of you – an admittedly pathetic part of you – is thrilled that Ari’s come over to you now. Clearly, he was affected by you talking to his best friend, and that makes you feel special.

Surprisingly, Curtis backs off easily, slinking off into the party like a panther. The crowd swallows him up, and you watch him go for a moment before the crushing grip gets even tighter. You hear a rumble from Ari’s chest as he mauls you to a dim corner of the room. It’s still packed with people, but he manages to prop you up in a dark spot, his palms slamming against the wall on either side of you, trapping you against it.

“Well, well, well. Look who showed up to the party.” Ari sneers, pressing his considerably larger frame against yours. “And you’re drunk already. Hasn’t anyone told you not to accept drinks from strangers?”

You blink up at him, feeling slower and more sluggish than usual thanks to Curtis’ magic drink in your system. But then his words hit you and you scowl, craning your neck to look up at him despite the fact that you’re in heels.

“Curtis isn’t a stranger, he’s my friend!” (You’ve conveniently forgotten the fact that you’d sworn that any friend of Ari’s was an enemy of yours).

Ari scoffs, “He’s not your friend. You’re not allowed to be friends with boys.”

You stick your chin up at him, “Oh yeah? Says who?”

The huge basketball player drives his pelvis into you with force, his clothed erection rutting against your stomach and making your eyes pop wide open and a gasp dies somewhere in your throat.

He smirks, “Says your daddy.”

Beyond Ari’s broad shoulder, you can see the party commencing in full force. The DJ’s switched to a more R&B centric playlist, and the whole room reverberates with the sounds of heavy bass and sexy crooning lyrics. Couples find each other on the dancefloor, strangers join together like magnets. Swaying and grinding and groping each other in the dark.

You blink several times before refocusing your gaze on Ari, trying not to get lost in his eyes or his smell or just how big and manly he is compared to you. No. You had to stay strong and you had to stay away from him. He was trouble with a capital T, and there was no way you were going to let him get away with cornering you at this party – not after all the lies he’d fed you about breaking up with his girlfriend. Not after he’d strung you along for weeks…

“Fuck off, Ari! You have no right to tell me who I can or can’t be friends with! Now just… Just fuck off and go back to your girlfriend an’ leave me alone!” Your palms land on his chest and you push with all your might. Unsurprisingly, he doesn’t budge an inch. In fact, he yawns pointedly, infuriating you further as you continue to push his huge, muscular body off of you.

“Please. You thrive on my attention, baby. That’s why you’re wearing this slutty dress and flirting with my best friend.” He says matter-of-factly, making your blood boil and your jaw drop open indignantly.

“Don’t want your attention!”

“Babies like you need attention.” Ari tells you, saying each word slowly as if you truly are a dumb baby who doesn’t understand anything. One of his hands meanders upwards, casually twining a piece of your hair around his finger, “Or else you’ll cry and throw a tantrum. And we don’t want the little baby to throw a tantrum, do we?”

You can’t believe his cockiness! Before you know what you’re doing, you punch him straight in the chest. Hard. But Ari just looks down at you bemusedly. In fact, he looks bored, and that infuriates you even more. And on top of everything else, now your hand hurts and you feel your eyes well with tears.

“Aww, did the little baby hurt herself?” Ari teases, patting your cheek condescendingly. You sniffle and try to swat him away but he’s too quick, too strong. You’re helpless, stuck against his big, hard body and the wall behind your back and he knows it as he smirks. “Poor little baby, don’t cry or throw a tantrum. You’ve got my attention now, haven’t you? And that’s what you wanted.”

“No, I didn’t–!”

He cuts you off with a rough kiss, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth. Even in your heels, he still has to lift you up so he can kiss you properly without you having to crane your neck too much because of his height. And so he grabs your hips and hoists you up against the wall, your bare legs dangling on either side of him as he consumes you with a kiss that seems riddled in possessiveness. Until you bang your fists on his shoulders enough times for him to pull away.

“How…How dare you kiss me! When your girlfriend’s at the same party!” You accuse, despite the fact that your heart is racing and lips are tingling and you really want him to kiss you again.

Ari shrugs, still looking bored. “She went to the bathroom with a bunch of her girlfriends to fix her makeup or something. And you know how girls are with the bathroom, they’ll stay in there for ages.” He pulls you snug against him, “Gives us a bit of time to have fun, baby.”

“You’re a man-whore, Ari.”

He snorts, “And you’re lucky you still have my attention, baby girl.”

Your jaw drops open, “You’re the one who’s been texting me nonstop since last week!”

“Just so you wouldn’t feel bad.”

You can’t believe him. Huffing, you try to push past him and storm off. Which proves to be impossible considering he’s still got you lifted up against the wall, his leg snug between your thighs. And even if you were in a position to exit the situation, he was way too big and strong and could easily stop you. Ugh. (But not really because that pathetic part of you really is enjoying the attention he’s giving you right now).

“You look so hot tonight, baby girl.” Ari mutters as he starts kissing at you again. First, he tries your lips. But you’re still stubborn, still mad at him and so you turn your head. That’s not a problem for him, his lips pressing down against your cheek, down to your jaw, then your neck. His hands come up to brazenly squeeze your breasts, making you gasp. “This is some dress. Luckily, attention-seeking baby suits you well.”

“Stop callin’ me a baby!”

He gives your ass a hard smack, smirking when you yelp. You thank your lucky stars that it’s too dark and crowded and noisy for anyone around you to notice how indecent he’s being.

“Oh, so you’re a big girl now, huh?”

“Let go of me so I can go have fun with Wanda–” You once more try to elbow him out of the way but of course, he holds you at bay easily.

“Stay put.” He growls, giving your ass another smack. “And answer my question. I asked you if you’re a big girl now.”

You stick your chin up, “Yes, I am.”

The brunet grins wolfishly. And you’re too tipsy to even notice how, but he suddenly conjures up a tiny translucent plastic baggie, waving it in front of your face. Your eyes take a few seconds to focus on the light blue pills sitting inside, shimmering enticingly as the strobe lights land on them. They’ve got designs printed on them, but you’re way too tipsy to decipher what they are.

“If you’re such a big girl, then you’ll have no problem having some of this big girl candy that daddy got specially for you.”

Your heart lurches. Sure, you’re tipsy as hell right now. But you’re certain you know what those pills are… don’t you? And maybe it isn’t the best idea for you to take your first ecstasy pill with only Ari of all people there with you. But what does it matter? When he’s slowly grinding his thigh up between your legs, one of his hands groping all over your body and pressing up your dress?

“I… uh… I dunno, Ari…”

He takes one tablet out before shoving the baggie into his pocket.

“C’mon. Prove you’re a big girl and take one.”

Every sane cell in your body is screaming at you not to, but it seems like you’re not only drunk off alcohol, but also off of his touch and attention.

Ari’s thumb trails across your lower lip, stroking it gently before tipping it open. You watch him, slack-jawed and in awe, as he slowly brings the blue tablet up to his own lips. He holds it between his teeth before he dips his head and catches your lips in a deep kiss, transferring the pill into your mouth. It rests on your tongue for a second before you gather your saliva and swallow it quickly, wanting to prove to him that you were indeed a big girl.

I’ll just let him kiss me for a while and then I’ll leave, you tell yourself, sighing as he peppers butterfly-light kisses all over your neck and shoulder. He pushes the strap of your dress down, much like how Curtis had done earlier. And all you can think about is how good it feels when Ari does it, when he touches you like how no one else could. Not that you’d ever had anyone else – since Ari was your first. And you fear that no one else would ever compare…

Suddenly, the strobe lights seem so bright, so close. The music feels like it’s coming out from inside you, like The Weeknd is literally belting out his sexy lyrics from inside you. The lights hit Ari’s face, making him look so big and bright, shiny like a diamond. And so close, so sexy. God, he’s so sexy… And you feel sexy too, like the sexiest person in this room, in your sexy red dress with this giant of a man in front of you.

“Wanna kiss you, daddy.”

He smirks against the nape of your neck before straightening up, “Kiss me, then.”

You try, but he’s too tall. Fuck, you really want to kiss him all of a sudden.

“Can’t. I’m too small.” But you don’t feel small. Just the opposite, actually. You feel like you’re on top of the world, like you’re the most beautiful, most incredible person in this universe. You wind your arms around his neck, “Lift me up. Wanna kiss you.”

He’s already got you propped up with his knee jammed between your legs, but for once he makes no smart comment. He wraps his huge hands around your waist and lifting you up. And it feels like you’re as high as the empire state building. No, the moon! Your heart’s soaring and so is your head, your body’s buzzing, the music’s switched up to something even more sexy, and that’s when you kiss him.

“Good girl,” he praises against your lips, but all you can focus on is how good it feels to have his lips on yours, how good it feels that his hands are back on your body, touching you everywhere. “You’re such a good little girl, you know that?”

“Better than Sharon?”

“Of course, baby girl. I don’t care about Sharon. Only you.”

Firmly holding you against the wall, he pushes your dress up till the tight material is practically around your waist. And who cares, who cares, who cares?! Not you, not when his hands glide up your bare thighs, spreading them before cupping your pussy through the lace of your panties.

“These are pretty, baby. Did daddy buy you these?”

“No,” you lie. Of course, he’d bought them for you. Ari loved buying you lingerie. Often, he’d have it delivered to your dorm room with a special note telling you to take pictures and send them to him. Sometimes, he’d send other things along with the lingerie. Like once, he’d sent this sex toy – a dildo which was almost as big as his dick. And there was a note too, ordering you to put on the lingerie and facetime him immediately. He’d made you fuck yourself on the dildo repeatedly that night, all while you thanked daddy over and over again for your new toy and lingerie set. All while he sat in the comfort of his own dorm room, smoking a cigarette with a smirk on his face, casually pumping his dick and getting off on your humiliation and total submission. Well, you got off on it too.

Now, it only takes a tug of his wrist and your panties are slipping down your legs. They get caught in your heels and you impatiently shake them off, watching the lace as it lays on the ground. That’s when you feel a rush of air against your bare pussy, now only concealed by the flimsy material of your dress.

“God, Levinson, she looks wasted as fuck!”

You vaguely hear someone say that, but you feel like you are lightyears away from everyone else. As if you and Ari are on your very own planet where only the two of you matter.

As if on cue, Ari presses his clothed crotch against your bare pussy, grinding the denim up and down while you pant in his arms. God, you want him so bad.

“Bad little baby, you got my jeans all wet in the middle of a party.” Ari scolds. But you pay him no heed, instead busying yourself with kissing up his collarbone and smelling his manly cologne, feeling his muscles that ripple through his shirt.

“You’re so big and strong,” you murmur, saying exactly what you’re thinking like you have no filter.

Ari puffs his chest out, “I am, aren’t I? Especially compared to a little baby girl like you.” He drives his crotch against your bare pussy once more, lewdly grinding against you till the denim is soaking wet. And oh, the rough material feels so good against your clit, so good that you don’t even care that he’s dry humping you in the middle of a party with so many people around you.

His hand slips up to grab your hair, and he yanks you up roughly so he can put his lips to your ear, “You’re my little baby princess, aren’t you?”

A shiver runs down your spine. You like the sound of that.

“Y-Yeah, I am!”

 “You like how much bigger I am than you?” He licks the shell of your ear.

“Ah – yes!”

“And you’ll do anything I tell you, won’t you? Because you’re just a baby and you need daddy to guide you. Right?”

“Yes, yes, yes!” You rut against him desperately, hoping he’ll carry you up to a bedroom and fuck you hard. It’s not like you’d be able to walk by yourself. Hell, you can’t even stand by yourself right now, which was why he was holding you up like you were a ragdoll. In the midst of a sea of people, but all you can focus on is Ari. And how high you feel, like you’re as light as a feather, as free as a bird who welcomes the cage of his grip.

You watch as he undoes his fly, pulling his hard cock out of his jeans. Your eyes nearly bug out of your head at how brazenly he does it – in a room full of people, no less! But you lick your lips, feeling your pussy clench at how fat and thick his cock looks under the pulsating lights. God, he was so big everywhere!

“So if I tell you that daddy wants to fuck his little girl in front of everyone right now, you’d say yes, wouldn’t you?”

You lick your lips, lust pulsing through every vein in your body. You’re already humping against him like a wanton whore, loving the feel of his bare cock gliding against your slippery slit in a room full of people.

“M-Maybe we can we go upstairs, daddy?”

“No. Here. C’mon, baby, you know you want to.” He nibbles on your ear, “I’ll make you my girlfriend if you do this for me.”

Your heart lifts, your mind feeling euphoric at the idea of that. And you believe him, of course you believe him! How could you not, when you’re feeling so on top of the world right now? Heart beating so fast, blood pumping even faster… And he said he’d make you his girlfriend! Oh, you wanted that so badly! You’d do anything to be his girlfriend, anything at all…

“O-Okay, daddy, I guess you can– AH, FUCK!”

He pistons his dick inside you in one quick movement, holding your hips firmly in place so you don’t fall over from the sheer force of him forcing his fat dick into your tiny, leaking hole. God, he was so big. You’d never get used to it.

“Good baby,” he smirks. There are waves of people around you – an entire crowd of sweaty, writhing bodies. But all you can feel is Ari, his cock so big and imposing yet your pussy swallows him readily as he bottoms out inside you. Grabbing your face, he kisses you possessively, and you can feel his cocky smirk through the kiss, “fuck yeah, just as tight as always. God, I missed my little pussy.”

Being fucked by Ari in the middle of the dancefloor of a frat party, drunk and high off your mind while his girlfriend was somewhere in this house. It wasn’t how you’d planned your night to go at all, but you cling to Ari like a koala, allowing him to control your body and take pleasure from you. You can hear him groaning as he fucks you slowly, trying to cover your body completely with his. You can hear him grimace, mutter how fucking tight you are as he tries to hold back from tearing your pussy apart like how he usually does when the two of you are alone.

“Not such a big girl now, are you?” he mocks, biting at your bottom lip and sucking on it as his dick drives slowly in and out of you. “Getting fucked in the middle of a party because you can’t ever say no to me, huh?”

“Nngh, Ari please. F-Feel so full,” you moan, never wanting him to stop. Maybe you’d regret this later, but right now it’s like you’re in a bubble of pleasure that has you ignoring the real world around you.

“And the fact that you thought you could make me jealous by talking to Curtis,” Ari huffs, giving you a particularly hard thrust that sends you reeling, and you bite down on his shoulder to keep from screaming at the top of your lungs. “What a pathetic little game you played, baby. But I’ll never get jealous, because I already know I own you. And you know it too. I own your fucking pussy.”

“Yes, yes, yes!” You gasp, feeling him so deep inside you, it’s like he’s practically in your womb. You wrap your legs tighter around him, grinding your clit against his hairy abdomen. The sensation feels heavenly, and you’re so, so close…

“Promise me you’ll never fucking speak to Curtis again,” he demands.

“Fuck me harder, daddy–OW!”

He slaps your ass hard, and you reel into him, shocked at the blow. You’d have fallen over if he wasn’t holding you up in his muscular arms.

“Fucking say you’ll never speak to Curtis again,” Ari says through gritted teeth, and his fingers wrap around your throat. Your breath hitches, eyes widening. But your pussy squeezes around his dick at the same time his hand squeezes your throat, “Say it or I’ll choke you the fuck out.”

Fear splices through the euphoria you’re feeling, but his hand constricting around your throat, him controlling your breathing – it turns you on so fucking much at the same time. But his eyes look so dark, darker than you’ve ever seen them. Is it because he’s high too? Or is it something else entirely?

“W-Won’t talk to him,” you promise, barely getting the words out.

Ari smiles and releases your throat, and you desperately gasp for breath. But when he kisses you again, you can’t help but hungrily kiss him back.

“I own you,” he repeats, slipping his hand down to play with your clit, pushing your dress up in the process. You’re high out of your mind and yet you still try to push the hem of your dress back down, only for him to slap your hands away. “Don’t hide this baby pussy from me, sweetheart.”

“E-Everyone can see,” you moan, breath hitching when he pinches your clit harshly before rubbing circles on it.

“Let them watch, baby.”

As if on cue, you hear someone whistle:

“You’re a fucking dog, Levinson! Can’t even wait to find a room to get your dick wet, huh?”

“She looks high off her ass, bro. Classic Levinson.”

Ari only laughs, continuing to fuck you and make out with you in the middle of the party as if it’s the most normal thing in the world to be doing. And if he’s okay with it, then it must be okay, right?

“This is what happens when you come to a party trying to be an attention-seeker,” he tells you, his fingers leaving your clit as he brings them up to his mouth, sucking noisily, “fuck, you taste so good, sweetheart. Your little baby pussy’s been wet for me all night, huh?”

“Yes, daddy,” you say dutifully, meeting his thrusts now as you feel yourself getting close. You continue grinding your clit on his hairy abs as he fucks you, the sensation so heavenly as you teeter on the edge of your orgasm, blabbering out your inner thoughts: “I…I think about you all the time, want you all the time. Wish you were with me all the time….”

“Mm, it gets you all wet, doesn’t it? Fucking a man who’s got a girlfriend?”

You gasp, but your walls clench around him all the same.

“Mm, I felt that, you slutty little baby,” Ari smacks your ass again, rocking his hips hard against you as you cry from the pleasure, “It turns you on that I have a girlfriend and yet I’m here with you, fucking you in front of all these people like you’re my personal fucking whore.”

“Ari, I’m so close, I–”

 “Bet you wish she was watching us, huh?” He says suddenly, “I bet that would get you off, wouldn’t it, you dirty little slut?”

“Nooo,” you moan, but you can feel thrills rippling through your body, your pleasure mounting higher and higher as the music drones on all around you.

Ari licks his lips like he’s the devil himself, “Don’t fucking lie to me, sweetheart. I bet you wish Sharon was here, watching me fuck you.” His eyes glint wickedly, “Bet you wish she was getting herself off to us, don’t you? Fingering herself while she watches her boyfriend cheat on her with a slutty little girl like you.”

“Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck!”

“Mm, and what would you do? Cry your little baby tears and beg for her forgiveness?” Ari chuckles lowly, and you can’t believe you’re on the brink of orgasm and about to lose it and he’s just there, calm as ever as he fucks you in this room full of people. Forcing his big, fat cock inside you with a smirk on his face as if he owns the whole room. “You’d beg for my girlfriend’s forgiveness while you take my fat fucking cock inside your sexy little pussy. And she’d watch us, watch me call you a bad fucking girl while I fuck you so hard that I’d probably knock you up. And I’ve never fucked her like that, baby. I would never fuck her like that. Only you.”

“Daddy, please,” you sob and sob, clutching at his shirt because you feel so overwhelmed.

He grabs your face roughly, making you look at him.

“And you’d watch her rub her pussy as she watches us fuck, wouldn’t you? And she’d cum all over her fingers, watching her boyfriend fuck the living daylights out of you, watching you be a helpless little slut for your daddy. And you’d love every second of it, baby. Because you’re fucking sick, just like me…”

Your orgasm is earth-shattering, breaking your body apart as you squirt all over his huge fucking dick. And he fucks you through it, coaxing your cream out of you as you cry and cry, any sound you make getting drowned out by the blaring music, any thrashing movement blurred by the dancing bodies around you. Some of them know what’s going on, you know they do. But others don’t, lost in their own world as they dance around the two of you. And waves of searing pleasure overtake your body, over and over again as you grind up against him.

“That’s right, sweetheart,” Ari grunts, “cum on my daddy dick like the good little baby you are. God, fuck, you’re squeezin’ me so good, baby, feels so tight and sexy. Gimme another one.”

You cum again, as if your body is programmed to listen to him, as if just his words can make you orgasm. And that’s when he blows his load, muttering a string of curses as he empties himself inside you. He always came inside you, no matter what. And you guessed that he wasn’t going to stop that streak now, even in the midst of a crowded party. One or two guys are ogling at the two of you, but you’re too fucked out to care, your spent body sagging against Ari’s huge frame as he fills you up with his hot cum.

Everything is blurry for a while after that. You’re on the brink of passing out – not even from the copious amounts of drugs and alcohol in your system, but from how fucked out you feel. But you jolt out of it when Ari pulls out of you, whining needily but he ignores you. Instead, he pulls your dress back down over your ass, and you can feel his hot cum trickling down your thigh.

“How was she, Levinson?” Some guy pipes up from within the crowd.

“Move along, smartass.” Ari glares daggers at the random guy, flipping him off as he shields your body with his bigger one. But there are more guys surrounding you, more people beginning to notice what exactly is going on. Ari seems to catch on to this too, shooting dirty looks all around him as he tries to tug your short dress down even further to cover you more, as if he was fuelled by horniness before but now that he’s come down from that high, he’s hyperaware of everyone around you.

“Can’t feel my legs, daddy,” you lean heavily against him.

He picks you back up, carrying you through the crowd. You can vaguely hear the voices of other boys over the loud, pounding music. Thumping Ari on the back, congratulating him. You hide your face in his chest, trying not to think about what’s just happened. He takes you up the stairs, through random corridors, into an empty bedroom, and finally, a bathroom.

“Fuck, baby, you okay?” He asks after setting you down on the sink.

“I’m good,” you grab at him, trying to wrap your legs around him and pull him into you. You can still feel the effects of the little blue pill, and you try to kiss him but he pulls away, chuckling.

“We need to clean you up.”

Funny. He never cleaned you up before. In the past, he’d always fuck you hard and good and then leave you to get yourself together while he typed away on his phone or went outside to smoke. Then, he’d either come back inside to fuck you again, or he’d give you a quick kiss and leave, telling you he was late for practice or something along those lines. But right now, it looks like he was sticking around, and that makes your heart skip a beat.

“I can’t believe I just let you fuck me in front of everyone. It almost doesn’t feel real!” You muse out loud, wondering maybe it was all just a dream, because you feel so hazy and warm. You swing your heel clad feet, accidentally catching him in the stomach. He shoots you a warning look, grabbing your calves to still you before his expression relaxes.

“It’s what you deserved for ignoring my texts.” He smirks before grabbing a wad of toilet paper. He wets some of it under the tap and swipes at your thighs, cleaning his cum off you. You bite your lip, watching his tanned biceps ripple as he gets dangerously close to your pussy. You grab his wrist, pushing it between your legs.

“I think you missed a spot, daddy,” you say in what you hope is a demure and sexy manner.

Ari groans, “Don’t tempt me, baby girl.”

He feels around your folds, licking his lips as he plays with the mess he’s left in your pussy. But you whine after a while, clearly too sensitive for round two so you push his hand away.

“Lemme feel you,” he persists.

“Nuh uh, too sensitive.”

He rolls his eyes and you giggle, reaching out to smooth his long hair, twining a few strands around your finger. You stay like that for a while, liking how he looks at you in the privacy of this bathroom, where the music from outside is still thumping softly and yet it feels like the two of you are in your own bubble. Where the dull orange light makes him look double handsome, and it’s just the two of you and you can pretend he’s your boyfriend and you’re a happy couple and it’s the best feeling in the world.

Until Ari’s hand slips down between your legs again.

“Hey!” You squeal, batting him off, but he doesn’t relent.

“Let daddy feel you one more time, baby girl,” he tries to sweet talk you, but you shake your head, pushing him away again. That’s when he gets a glint in his eye, digging his fingers into your ribs instead. You squeal as he tickles you, and you try to do it back but clearly, he isn’t as ticklish as you because he just shoots you an amused look. You laugh and laugh, till you can’t breathe and even he chuckles, his face pink.

“Ari, will I be your girlfriend now?” You ask in a small voice once you’ve stopped laughing.

A pause. And then he sighs.

“Baby, we already have a good thing going–”

“So then why can’t we go out on dates and do all the romantic things that boyfriends and girlfriends do?” Your lower lip wobbles but you will yourself to remain calm and collected.

“You know why.” Ari avoids your gaze, backing up and gathering all the toilet paper he’s just used. He stuffs it into the bin before washing his hands, and the whole time you look at him, waiting for him to elaborate except he says nothing more.

“B-But I let you fuck me in front of everyone,” you scrunch your eyes shut to keep your tears at bay, “I let you do anything to me, Ari. And you keep telling me that you’ll make me your girlfriend but it never happens. An’ I trust you more than anything even though you keep lying to me, and–”

He clears his throat, running his hands through his hair before he reaches out as if to cup your face. But at the last second he holds back, fists curled to his sides. “Don’t do this right now. Look, I’ll get you some water to sober you up, then you can call your friend Carla–”

“Her name is Wanda.”

“Call your friend Wanda, and maybe she can take you home. You’re completely wasted.” He can’t help but reach out, fixing the strap of your dress which you hadn’t even noticed had slipped down your shoulder. God, you were a mess. A complete and utter mess and he’d used you again and now he wanted nothing to do with you. His fingers linger, brushing against your bare shoulder before he snatches his hand back and clears his throat once more.

“Is it because I’m not good enough?” A lone tear drips down your cheek. And it’s crazy because not even a minute ago you were laughing your ass off.

“No–”

“Then why does it feel like you’re using me?”

No one speaks for several seconds. All you can hear is your own breathing, how you hiccup every now and then. How your head is beginning to pound and how all your emotion seem amplified. You know it’s because you’re drunk, and yet you’re hoping you may get something sincere from him in this bathroom right now…

But Ari only shakes his head, keeping his eyes trained somewhere beyond your shoulder, as if he can’t seem to look you in the eye…

“Now’s not the time to talk about this–”

“You lie to me all the time, Ari, and you always take me for granted. An’ I fall for it every time because I wanna be your girlfriend so bad…” Your voice falters, lip curling and tears welling in your eyes, “I really, really like you, Ari. Don’t you like me too? Enough to make me your girlfriend?”

“I already have a girlfriend…” He blurts out.

His words hit you like shards of glass, piercing you from the inside out. You feel like you’re falling, and even Ari looks guilty, as if he can’t believe he’s just said that so abruptly. He’s always come up with a story when it comes to his relationship; “we broke up,” or “we’re having problems,” or “she’s a bitch, I don’t care about her.” But it seems like now, he’s really just laying it all out on the table. She’s his girlfriend. And she always would be.

You bow your head, feeling like a veil’s lifted somewhere between the two of you. “I guess that just makes me the girl you keep around for easy sex.”

“You know it’s more than that, baby–”

His phone rings at that exact moment, cutting him off. But he looks relieved to be interrupted, and hastily fishes it out of his pocket. You sigh, staring down dejectedly into your lap. He keeps his voice low as he talks on the phone, but you catch a few words here and there, like “Sharon,” and “she’s looking for you.”

“Baby, I gotta go. But I want you to stay in here until you’re sober enough to go find your friend.” Ari says, shoving his phone back into his pocket.

“Y-You’re leaving?”

A pause.

“Yes.”

Another tear trickles down your cheek.

“Please stay with me. I don’t wanna be alone right now.” He’s left you after sex many times before, but this time feels different. You feel vulnerable, small, afraid. Little you in this big party where you’d only feel safe if you were with him. God, it felt so special whenever it was just you and him alone together. Like right now, in the bathroom, where he’d carried you up in his arms, cleaned you himself and laughed while he tickled you. Oh, it felt so special to you! Could he not feel that too? Why did he want to leave?

Ari inhales deeply, “Don’t, okay? You know I can’t stay. Sharon… She’s making a scene. She’s really drunk, people are starting to notice I’m not there with her–”

“I’m really drunk too.” And high.

He pinches the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger, “That’s why you’re getting so emotional, okay? Just… Just call Wanda. Or one of your other friends.”

His words sting, and you know you should just back off. Let him do whatever the fuck he wants to do since clearly all he wanted was to get away from you. But neediness and sorrow clouds your brain and covers your heart, and in a last ditch effort, you reach out to grab his hand.

“Please stay,” you beg, and you feel like you’ve swallowed your pride but you don’t even care anymore, “Please, Ari. Y-You don’t have to make me your girlfriend, okay? I’m sorry I brought it up. Please, just stay with me. Don’t leave me alone, please, please, please–”

“Stop,” he says gently, peeling your hand off of his, “don’t make this bigger than it is. We hooked up like we always do, but I need to go now, okay? I’ll text you later.”

He backs away, pausing at the door. Hope fills your heart, and you wait with bated breath. But then he leaves, walking out casually like all he’s done is use the bathroom. And you sit there, his rejection like poison in your veins. Frozen, drunk, sad, dejected. Oh God, had you really expected him to stay? To be different this time? How many more times were you going to let him lie to you, disrespect you, embarrass you, play you?

How many more times till he broke you completely?

***

“C’mon, Wanda, pick the fuck up.” You mutter, jabbing at your phone in annoyance. The screen freezes for several seconds, before your call goes to her voice message. For the fourth time in a row. You bite your lip, daring to check your battery. Five percent. Great. Just Great.

 After Ari had left you in the bathroom, all you’d wanted to do was curl up in the bathtub and cry the whole night away. And that’s what you’d been doing for at least an hour, until some horny couple barged in and started having sex against the sink. You’drun out of there in a hurry, and now here you were at the front of the frat house, wanting nothing more than to go home.

“Where the hell are you, Wanda?” You murmur, calling her again and praying to God your phone battery lasts until you find her. You were still drunk and not exactly capable of combing through the crowd of people in search of your friend. When she doesn’t pick up again, you feel a helplessness take over your body, like it had back in the bathroom. All you want to do is collapse down on the grass and cry like a baby, but you will yourself to persevere before you try calling her again.

“Excuse me, sweetheart. Are you okay?”

The voice is deep and rumbling, with an undertone of amusement. You don’t even bother looking up from your phone, your eyes too busy staring down your battery percentage as it lowers down to three percent.

“I’m fine,” you say distractedly, trying to walk further away from the frat house in hopes of getting better signal. “I’m just trying to call my friend so we can go ho–”

Your heel catches against a rock on the grass, sending you flying. You brace yourself for the fall but it never comes. Instead, you feel two strong arms wrap around your waist, catching you and pulling you back till you collide against a hard chest.

“Careful, baby,” the amused voice murmurs in your ear.

“Oh, um, thank you, uh–” You straighten up and turn around to face the stranger who’d saved you, finding yourself face to face with a built looking chest wearing an off-white t-shirt and varsity jacket. You crane your neck upwards, breath catching in your throat at what you see.

The stranger is tall and blonde, his pale skin shimmering in the moonlight (probably because you’re drunk because that’s what it looked like). His muscles ripple under his shirt, and he runs his hand through his hair in a way that’s all too familiar. His blue eyes sparkle as he smiles down at you, his arms still around your waist as if to hold you steady.

“Wow,” you say dumbly. He was handsome!

He smirks down at you, “Sorry, sweetheart, I didn’t quite catch that?” He had an effortless way of speaking, like a relaxed drawl as if he was far removed from all the craziness of the party going on around him.

“I – uh – I said thanks,” you babble, “thanks for saving me.”

“You’re welcome. What’s your name?”

You tell him, trying to keep your words from slurring because of the damned alcohol still pumping in your system. You’re acutely aware of his arms still around you, and the fact that your heart is beating fast and hard as you look up at him almost in awe. In your inebriated state, his pale colouring made it look like there was a halo around him (either that or a streetlight was shining directly at him), but it made him look almost angelically handsome.

“I’m Steve.” He says, confidently reaching out to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear, “What’s a cute little thing like you doing out by yourself so late at night?”

You stick your chin up indignantly, “Not by myself! I’m looking for Wanda!”

“Who’s that, sweetheart?”

“My best friend.”

“Well, she isn’t much of a best friend if she left you all alone at this party, is she?”

Steve cocks his head to the side, a crooked smile on his face that’s so attractive it makes you swoon inwardly, despite what he was implying.

“She didn’t leave me, Steve! She’s just…” you helplessly scan through the groups of people that have spilled out into the front yard of the frat house, “she’s around here somewhere…” Your eyes suddenly snap back over to the blonde, suspicion overtaking you. Who exactly was this guy, and where had he just appeared from, looking all handsome and angelic?

“Do you…uh…do you go to St. Andrews’ too?” You hardly know everyone on campus, seeing as your college is massive and there’s way too many people that go there. But you’re sure you’d remember seeing someone as handsome as him.

“Nope, I go to St. Jude’s.”

Oh. The enemy college. At least according to Ari (who was the main source of most of your information since he knew everything). Ari hated St Jude’s’ basketball team, as they were the main rivals of his own basketball team. You weren’t much into sports or any of that (you only attended Ari’s basketball games to look cute and get his attention), but you suddenly recognise St. Jude’s distinctive blue and white coloured varsity jacket that Steve has on. It resembles Ari’s varsity jacket – which is red and gold for St. Andrew’s.

“What’re you doing here, then?” You ask.

Steve shrugs, “Me and my buddies come to your parties every now and then…” he nods at two other guys in similar varsity jackets. They stand across the lawn from the two of you, talking to a bunch of girls. You look at them for a few seconds before Steve clears his throat, as if he wants you to look at him and him only.

“I think the real question is, sweetheart, what are you doing here?”

You frown, “What do you mean?”

“What’s a baby like you doing all alone at a frat house this late?” His thumb strokes your bare arm, his other hand still firm on your waist. “You’re too cute and innocent for a party like this, the frat boys will eat you alive.”

His eyes glint as he says it, but you presume that’s just you imagining things because you’re drunk.

“Well actually, I’m not a baby and I wasn’t alone,” you try not to hyper-focus on his thumb circling against your skin, “I was with Wanda, and then I was with Ari, and then–”

Steve’s grip tightens, “Ari?”

“Yeah, Ari. He’s my boyfr– Well no, actually he’s my nothing. He’s no one…” you sigh sadly, “I’m no one to him and he’s no one to me…He made that pretty clear tonight.”

The blonde whistles lowly, his hand still rubbing soothingly up and down your arm. And you kind of don’t want him to stop, because he feels so warm and he’s making you feel warm and it’s making you hurt a teensy bit less.

“A pretty little girl like you doesn’t deserve to get her heart broken like that,” Steve comments, “and you don’t deserve to be left alone to cry by yourself either.”

“W-Wasn’t crying!” you lie. God, he was making you sound so pathetic.

He weaves you through the crowd, his grip on you tight as he walks you over to a more secluded area of the front yard. With less people around, his arms catch around your waist and he yanks you closer to him, till you’re flush against his chest, your eyes wide as you look up at him and swallow hard.

“My point still stands,” he says, his voice so confident and velvety smooth. “Now, if you were my girl, you wouldn’t even be allowed to step foot inside a party like this, let alone be left unattended.”

A thrill ripples down your spine, but you barely have time to acknowledge it before you feel a rough grip on your wrist, yanking you away from Steve with heavy force.

“What the hell is this?!” Ari growls, pushing you behind his own body before he squares up to Steve. You gape over at both men, looking from one to the other. Ari was the biggest guy you knew, but Steve matched him in both height and stature. Head-to-head, the two men stare the other down, almost as if they already know each other. Side by side, you notice they look kind of similar. Both of them were tall and bulky, with vivid blue eyes. But Steve was angelically blonde and pale, and Ari was tanner, rougher, darker. Steve looked calm, unperturbed by the interruption – but Ari looked pissed off beyond belief.

“What are you doing here, Rogers?” He seethes.

Steve smirks, “I wasn’t aware that you owned this frat house, Ari.”

“Cut the bullshit. You know you’re not welcome here. Just because your own college parties are filled with ugly sluts doesn’t mean you have to come to mine.”

“Yours? And who exactly put you in charge?”

Steve steps closer as if to challenge Ari, but Ari just glowers at him before shaking his head.

“Do whatever the fuck you want, Steve. But she’s off limits. Everyone here knows she’s mine.” Ari’s still got your wrist in a death-grip, and you wince in pain when he squeezes even tighter.

“Lemme go, Ari!” You try to fight against his hold but to no avail.

The blonde snorts, “Oh yeah, it really looks like she’s yours, Levinson.”

“Fuck off.”

“I know what your girlfriend looks like, asshole. I know it’s not her.” Steve’s still got that smirk on his face, and you can see Ari’s face going redder and redder. God, he was really getting to him! And they did in fact know each other!

Ari pointedly turns his back to Steve as if to shut him out of the conversation. Instead, he looks at you. “Baby, why are you still here? It’s getting really late, let me call you an Uber.”

Baby? Was he serious? After he’d left you alone in the bathroom even after you’d begged and pleaded with him to stay with you?!

You feel a surge of anger, “No! Don’t want you to call me anything, Ari! Just leave me alone, I can get home by myself.”

He frowns, “You’re still drunk. I’m gonna call you a–”

“Where’s Sharon, Levinson?” Steve pipes up from behind in an amused tone, as if this is all an evening’s worth of entertainment to him. “That’s her name, right? Your actual girlfriend?”

Ari whips around with lightning speed. Your heart jumps to your throat as the brunet lunges forward, grabbing Steve by the collar and getting all up in his face, “If you don’t shut the fuck up–”

“Or what, huh, Levinson?”

The brunet lowers his voice, “You know damn well I can beat your ass off court just as much as I can in court.”

Steve scoffs, “You beat my team, not me.”

Oh, so Steve was a basketball player too. He and Ari had played against each other.

Ari barks out a laugh, “Oh yeah, I forgot you got benched in the last game. Can’t seem to keep that temper in check, can you?”

The blonde shrugs, “I don’t know, Levinson. Seems like you’re the one who’s getting all worked up right now.”

“Go to hell, asshole–”

“BABY, THERE YOU ARE!”

Sharon stumbles up to where the three of you are standing, her dress riding high, heels in her hand and hair a mess. She’s even drunker than you are, and yet she still looks beautiful – in a dishevelled sort of way. Like Serena Van Der Woodsen, with her blonde hair so perfectly tangled. She looks tall and somehow still graceful despite how she all but falls on top of Ari, who lets go of Steve’s collar as he holds her up.

“Thought I lost you again,” she giggles, planting her lips on his. You blanch and look away, feeling like someone’s put your heart in a shredder. You almost don’t notice Steve grabbing you around the waist and pulling you back into him. Sharon continues to kiss Ari, making out with him except he keeps turning his head – but she’s too drunk to notice. “Babe, could you please take me home? I’m tired.”

Ari grimaces, “Sure. Why don’t you go wait by the car and I’ll be over when I’m ready?”

Sharon blinks, “What car?”

“My car.”

“What does it look like?”

Ari groans. Steve laughs. Sharon looks confused. And you hope the ground would swallow you whole so you wouldn’t have to witness the happy couple together right in front of your face.

“Sharon, just go wait somewhere else while I–”

“Are you guys a couple?” Sharon cuts him off, finally acknowledging you and Steve. “You look totally cute together if you are.”

“They’re not a couple.” Ari seethes, his blue eyes narrowing at Steve’s hands on your waist. “Let go of her, asshole.” he says quietly (not that Sharon would have even noticed). Steve ignores his, pretending he didn’t hear him.

“I, uh, I have to go,” you mumble, unable to stand being in their presence even a second longer. Sharon’s gone back to sloppily kissing up Ari’s jaw, and you just can’t take it. His words from earlier keep ringing through your ears: “I already have a girlfriend,” “I already have a girlfriend,” “I already have a girlfriend.”

You take your phone out, ready to call an Uber and be done with this night. You’d go home and charge your phone and try to reach Wanda from there. But just as you’re about to type in your address on the app, your screen goes black. Dead. Great. Fucking great.

“Oh no,” you whisper softly in dismay.

Ari’s already got his own phone out, typing away and presumably calling you an Uber whilst simultaneously trying to keep Sharon upright and at bay.

“I’ll take you home.” Steve volunteers.

“The hell you will,” Ari sneers, “Back the fuck off, Rogers, I’m calling her an Uber.” He looks like he wants to say more, his gaze still locked on the way Steve is holding you. But he can’t, of course he can’t… not with her here.

“Babe, I don’t feel well,” Sharon moans suddenly. Her face looks slightly green, and she’s stopped kissing Ari now.

“Just give me a second,” He tells her distractedly.

“Maybe you should worry about getting your own girlfriend home first, Levinson.” Steve says smugly before turning to you, “C’mon, let’s go.”

Ari’s eyes fix on yours, “Don’t go with him.”

You almost do obey. Because you always obey Ari. He’s told you in the past, warned you that you always have to do what he says because he’s your daddy and he’s in charge. But… But what about how you’d begged him to stay earlier, and he hadn’t? Now was your chance to do the same thing to him, give him a taste of his own medicine. That, and you also can’t stand to be in close vicinity of him and Sharon right now, or else you’d burst into tears again.

Pointedly avoiding Ari’s gaze, you look up at Steve instead, “O-Okay. Let’s go.”

The blonde tugs you along with him, and you purposely drown Ari out as Steve leads you away. And part of you wants Ari to follow, to push Sharon away and come after you, rip you out of Steve’s grip and take you home himself. But he doesn’t, of course he doesn’t. You don’t dare look back, knowing the happy couple is probably making out again, and you’ve already been forgotten.

“He’s such an asshole!” You burst out, “I hate him, I hate him, I hate him!”

Steve chuckles, “He’s an asshole, alright.”

“He really is! Hate how he treats me, an’ how I keep giving him chances. He just hurts me again and again and again and–”

“Let’s get you home, baby,” the blonde interrupts, getting his phone out.

You wait a handful of seconds, swaying in your heels but liking how he’s got his hand firmly on your lower back to keep you steady. You look up at him expectantly, “Well, aren’t you gonna ask for my address?”

“What?”

“My address, silly! How else am I gonna get home?”

He blinks, before slowly handing you his phone. You miss the glint in his eye, however, and how his lip curls up subtly in… disappointment? “Oh yeah. How stupid of me to forget.”

You type your address in on his Uber app and click accept before beaming up at him, “Thank you so much, Steve. It really means a lot to me, I honestly don’t know how else I would’ve got home! But don’t worry, I’ll pay you back! We’ll split the cost in half, and–”

He presses his finger to your lips, effectively shushing you before he shoots you that charming lop-sided smile of his, making your insides melt. “You don’t need to pay me back, sweetheart. What kind of a guy would I be if I took money from a little baby like you?”

You blink, feeling an extreme sense of dejavu. He sounded exactly like… Ari. Ari never let you pay for anything ever. Well, Ari never really took you out anywhere in public, but the two of you would always order takeout whenever he came over to your dorm room. And he’d never skimp out either, ordering from fancy places like Nobu because he said you were his baby and he wanted the best for you. And whenever you tried to pay your share, he’d just snort and push your hand away, “What kind of a guy would I be if I took money from a helpless little baby like you?”

The reminder of Ari has a ton of different emotions washing over you all over again. Sadness, jealousy, anger…. You shake your poor drunken, muddled head, “Oh, I hate Ari so much, Steve! He’s heartless, and he–”

You’re still going on and on by the time the Uber arrives. And you’re so into your tirade, that you don’t even notice Steve’s arms going around you again, holding you tight against him as if he owns you. You don’t notice how his hands wander, how he rubs the bare skin of your arms, the small of your back, going lower and lower. His fingers playing with the short hem of your dress…

You do notice him slip cash into the driver’s hand… Probably the tip, you presume, too drunk to care.

Your mind wanders to Ari again during the ride home. You sit in the backseat with Steve, staring out  the window gloomily as you think about how he broke your heart. Oh, how could you have been so stupid? So gullible? So innocent? You’d never let anyone take advantage of you like that again…

“You okay?” Steve asks, pressing his hand on your thigh.

You nod, “Yeah, I’m just thinkin’ about how much I hate Ari, and–”

“Sweetheart?”

“Yeah?”

“I’ve been listening to you complain about Ari for the past ten minutes straight. Don’t mention him again.”

He says it softly, calmly, and yet you shut your mouth and straighten up. Despite being drunk, you can detect the seriousness of his tone, and a hint of a threat too. Which you’re probably imagining because why would Steve threaten you? He was so sweet! Wasn’t he?

“I’m sorry, Steve,” you say softly, relaxing once he shoots you a smile.

The drive continues, and Steve’s hand remains on your bare thigh, squeezing every now and again. You don’t mind, his touch helping you feel grounded. You’re still so drunk and probably high too, from that damned stupid pill Ari had given you. No, no, no! You scrunch your eyes shut, willing yourself not to think about him.

“Baby, why don’t you come sit on my lap?” Steve says suddenly.

You whip your head in his direction, “Wh-What?”

“The Uber driver just told me the backseat is really dirty, and you’re in a dress, so I think you’d better sit on me.”

You glance at the driver, who looks straight ahead at the road, not batting an eye or saying a single word. You’re too drunk to argue, and so you just nod. Steve grabs you by the waist, easily lifting you up and placing you on his lap. You can’t help but welcome his warmth, shivering in your skimpy little dress as you wiggle around, trying to get comfortable. He notices, immediately shrugging off his varsity jacket and draping it over your shoulders.

“There. Nice and warm now?”

You smile up at him gratefully, “Yeah! Thanks so much, Steve!” You try not to ogle at his biceps.

“You look cute in my jacket,” Steve chucks you under the chin, “It’s huge on you.”

“That’s ‘cause you’re huge,” you blurt out, before your eyes widen.

“And you’re just tiny.” He quips, pulling you closer.

This was weird, right? You’d only just met him a mere twenty minutes ago, and now you were already in a car with him? In his lap, no less? But you could trust Steve, right? He was nice enough to give you a lift home when he didn’t even know you, and he didn’t want you to touch the dirty backseat either. And he’d given you his jacket so you’d stay warm. All of those looked like green flags to you. Unlike dumb stupid Ari, who was one red flag after another!

The car hits a snag on the road, causing you to bounce inadvertently in his lap. Steve groans as if he’s in pain, and you shoot him an apologetic look.

“Sorry, Stevie. That was an accident.”

He smirks, “Stevie?”

Heat spreads across your cheeks, unaware that you’ve said it out loud… But it’s a cute nickname nonetheless, and so you just shrug awkwardly, a sheepish smile on your face.

Steve’s hand rubs up and down your back soothingly, “It’s a long way till your house, baby. Why don’t you tell me about yourself?”

You nod, “Well, I’m a freshman at St. Andrews’ College, and…and…” your voice drifts off as you notice how close you are to him, how you can see the freckles and beauty marks on his face, how deep his blue eyes are up close. So much like Ari’s…

Steve licks his lips, “How does a little freshman like you get mixed up with an asshole like Ari Levinson?”

Oh God, where do you even begin? Instead, you shake your head, “I-I thought I wasn’t allowed to mention Ari again?”

“You’re right,” Steve’s eyes twinkle, and he brushes a piece of your hair behind your ear, “You take instructions well, sweetheart, that makes you a good girl.”

You glow at the praise, before the car hits another snag on the road – this time a much bigger one. You bounce on Steve’s lap again, biting your lip when you feel the rough material of his jeans graze against you down there. And that’s when you come to a horrific realisation.

You’re not wearing any panties.

Your mind flashes back to earlier in the night. Ari fucking you in the middle of the dancefloor. Lifting your dress up. Your panties slipping down your legs. You stepping out of them, the lacy thong lying on the floor. That was the last you’d seen it…

You gulp, looking down at Steve’s lap slowly. No, no, no. Oh no… There it is, plain as day… A wet stain on his jeans, directly beneath you. You hear a low groan, and you know he’s seen it too.

“Oh my gosh, Steve, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, I–”

“It’s okay,” he breathes, his voice throaty as he grips your hips to hold you in place, “Maybe you should move…”

“Yes, of course, sorry, I’ll just…” You hastily try to get off his lap, but he holds on tight, not allowing you to budge.

“No, baby girl. I mean move like this.” With fluid confidence, he guides your hips over thick, jean-clad thigh. You gasp breathily, hands shaking as they automatically grip his shoulders. Your bare cunt grazes against the rough denim, pleasurable sensations thrumming through your body. Oh God, what were you doing? You glance fearfully at the driver, but he seems to be in his own world, carefully ignoring the two of you from the driver’s seat.

“Stevie, we shouldn’t–”

“Shhh, move again,” he orders, his thumb circling your hip through the thin material of your dress.

“B-But we just met, this isn’t right, we–” But he shushes you again by moving your hips for you. And his hands are so big, gripping you so tight as he moves you over his muscular leg, your cunt catching against the jean material again and making your whole body convulse. You automatically grab at his broad shoulders, feeling overwhelmed and confused yet horny and needy all at once.

Ari wouldn’t like this, your inner voice warns.

“I thought you took instructions well, baby doll.” Steve whispers enticingly in your ear, hands rubbing soothingly up and down your back as if to cajole you into doing what he wanted. “C’mon, move again like how I told you to.”

Your body obeys as if you’ve been wired to, and maybe it’s because you like listening to people or maybe it’s because you’re just plain horny. Either because of Ari’s damned ecstasy pill or because Steve is so handsome and hot and his body is so big and muscular and warm. Oh, you don’t know! But you do roll your hips down against his lap, eyes widening at how good it feels as you both gasp in unison.

“That’s a good girl,” Steve praises, giving you a sweet smile. And you’re so close to him, and he’s so handsome, and his lashes are so long and thick, his jaw so defined, his freckles so pretty…

“You’re so pretty!” You blurt out.

Steve snorts, “And you’re still so fucking drunk.”

“Wha–?”

“Nothing. Move again.” But this time he picks you up, repositioning you so that you’re face to face with him and straddling his crotch, and oh my! He was so hard, so, so hard! You could feel his dick poking through the denim, rubbing against your wet folds! What was even happening right now?! “Baby, this feels good huh? Moving against me like this?”

“Uh… y-yeah, I guess it does.” You answer shyly.

“Good. Then I won’t have to repeat myself after this one last time. Move. Again.” Quick as a wink, his hand leaves your hip, thick fingers curling around your throat instead. He speaks softly yet with authority and a hint of menace, blue eyes almost magically unblinking as he stares you down, “Rub your little baby cunt all over my jeans. You might as well, since you’ve already made a mess.”

SMACK.

You squeak before your jaw drops open. Had he just spanked you? Once more, you look to the driver in the front, but he seems to be determinedly ignoring whatever was going on in the backseat.

Almost as if he’d been paid to do so…

You start to move your hips, letting Steve guide you as you grind down on his clothed crotch. And fuck, it feels heavenly. Your poor clit is throbbing, so needy and desperate as you seek your pleasure, holding on to Steve’s sturdy shoulders.

“Fuck yeah, you’re such a cute little slut aren’t you?” Steve hums into your neck, his teeth grazing against your bare skin, “can’t believe a sweet little angel with a snatch as tight and sexy as yours landed right in my lap. Well, I stole you right from under Levinson’s nose, but that’s not important right now, is it?” He slaps your ass again, his other hand still wrapped around your neck. Not squeezing, just holding it, “Move harder, baby. I’m already letting you use me for your pleasure, so you better do as I say.”

“O-Okay, Stevie,” you pant, not really hearing what he’s saying because the delicious friction is too much for you to handle.

He nips at the nape of your neck, that now familiar glint in his eye, “Call me daddy, sweetheart.”

You gape at him. But you only ever called Ari daddy!

His fingers squeeze around your neck, making it exponentially harder for you to breathe. “Did you hear what I said?” He asks smoothly.

“Y-Yeah,” you barely get the word out.

“Then say it. Say it or I’ll choke you the fuck out.”

“Daddy!” You squeak as he loosens his grip, gulping for air, “D-Daddy, please!”

He smirks, leaning back against the seat as he watches you ride his crotch. You can’t stop now, it feels too good, too sexy. An yet it also almost feels like you’re doing something wrong, like you’re betraying Ari… Except you’re not, you’re not, you’re not! Because Ari already had a girlfriend and it wasn’t you!

“You’re enjoying yourself, aren’t you? Dry humping your little baby pussy on a guy you’ve just met?” Steve grabs the back of your neck and yanks you forward, till his plump pink lips ghost against yours, “You this slutty for all the frat boys, sweetie?”

You shake your head desperately, “N-No, promise I’m not! I’ve only ever been with one guy, ah!” Your poor pussy feels like it’s been rubbed raw, and yet you can’t stop. Your hips are both moving off their own accord, and Steve’s still moving your body lazily on top of his, the fat outline of his dick protruding through his jeans, a wet spot of your juices on top of his crotch. “W-Well, actually, now I’ve been with two, but–oh fuck!”

You whimper pathetically as Steve suddenly bites down on your neck, sucking against the sensitive skin till it breaks. He peppers the broken skin with kisses, and it hurts yet it feels so good. You find your hand slipping up to grab at his short hair, and instinctively you’d been expecting Ari’s long tufts because that was all you were used to. But all you can think about is Steve right now, and how good his huge body feels underneath you as you grind against it.

“And does it feel good, baby? Humping up against a stranger like you’re in heat?” He licks the shell of your ear lewdly, shivers running down your spine before he suddenly thrusts upwards, catching you off-guard. Your pussy clenches, lust pumping through your veins at his words. “Innocent little baby, only ever been with two guys and yet you’re dry humping me like you’re being paid to do it.”

He laughs wickedly, and how could he still look so angelic? The moonlight shines on his face through the window of the car, and one second he’s looking down at you mockingly, before his face morphs into one of lust and want, and he lets out a soft gasp as he grinds up against you. “Fuck, you’re doing so good, baby. Making daddy feel so fuckin’ good, aren’t you?”

“Y-Yeah, daddy, oh fuck, you feel so big,” you whimper with abandon.

Steve snorts, “I’m bigger than you could handle, sweet girl. Your cute little baby pussy would probably start crying if I tried to put my dick inside you right now.”

His dirty talk makes you moan, and you can feel yourself growing more excited. That’s when he starts to fondle you, his hands everywhere on your body, squeezing and rubbing your tits through the thin material of your dress. “God, you’re just a baby, aren’t you?”

“N-No,” you pant, only to earn another smack to your ass.

“Don’t fucking disagree with me,” he hisses, blue eyes blazing before his smirk returns, “You’re a little fuckin’ baby who’s known me all of two seconds and yet you’re horny for my daddy dick, aren’t you? I said, aren’t you?”

“Yes, okay?! Yes!” You cry out, your folds so insanely sensitive from rubbing and rubbing against him, and yet you’re so close. But was it just you, or had Steve’s demeanour changed. Back at the party, he was charming, funny, helpful. And now? Oh, he was still charming, and so devastatingly handsome. But there was a darkness to his angelic quality… Either that or you were imagining things.

“What if I pushed you down and made you ride my fuckin’ shoe instead?” He asks, that devilish glint ever-present in his blue eyes which were dark with lust, “You’d do it, wouldn’t you? You’d do anything to cum.”

“Daddy, ‘m so close!” you whine like a baby, clutching his shirt hard in case he did push you to the floor. You didn’t want that at all, and you blink up at him with wide eyes, “D-Don’t push me down, daddy, please! Promise I’ll be good an’ I’ll listen to you! Wanna stay in your lap, please!”

He blinks down at you, chiselled face softening some as he cups your face, his other hand still guiding you as you ride his thigh, “Fuck, you’re cute, aren’t you?”

But then his expression darkens once more, and he reaches down, grabbing the flimsy fabric of your dress. There’s a loud tearing sound and you gasp, jaw dropping as he rips the lower part of your dress clean in half. He smiles, “Keep going, baby. Daddy just wanted to see you better. And look at your baby pussy, look how cute and puffy she is. Bet you’re sore down there, huh?”

“Y-Yeah, but don’t wanna stop! So close!”

He runs his tongue over his plump lips, “I bet you are.”

Reaching down, he makes you gasp out loud when his fingers spread your sopping folds, and fuck, his jeans feel so fucking good now, so much better, so much rougher, oh god, oh god, oh god… And that’s when he takes complete control, grabbing your hips harder and moving you on top of him like you’re a doll. Like you’re his personal fucktoy, and he’s using you for his pleasure as he moves you back and forth on his dick, dragging you up and down on his clothed crotch while he whispers dirtily in your ear.

But it’s when he squeezes your throat again, that you feel your pussy clench doubly hard.

“You like that, huh? Like when daddy gets rough?” Steve chuckles darkly, before squeezing harder. Till he’s well and truly choking you, and you can feel your airway close up, and you well and truly can’t breathe, and it’s agony but it’s so delicious, and he’s dragging you all over his crotch, rutting up against you as you scramble on top of him, and you can’t breathe and you’re about to black out and, and, and…

You come hard, squirting all over his crotch which was already wet from your juices. And your cream keeps on pouring out, your orgasm hitting you so hard. And that’s when he releases your throat, like he’s given you the ability to breathe as a reward for cumming, and he rubs your back soothingly as you sob and squeak in pleasure, his voice all sweet once more, all dripping with honey as he caressed you, “you’re such a good girl, such a good fucking girl, you did so good, baby.”

The rest of the drive home is silent, you feeling fucked out in Steve’s lap, Steve looking smug, and the Uber driver staring straight ahead as if the debauchery that just took place in the backseat of his car had never even happened. Your legs are shaking, and you can’t believe what’s just happened but you’re too exhausted to truly care. All you want is your bed. And sleep.

“Sweetheart, I think we’re here. Is this your building?”

“It is,” you say hoarsely, suddenly feeling too shy to even meet his gaze. And there’s a part of you that feels guilty now that it’s all over, a part of you that keeps thinking about Ari and what he would think about all this. Fuck. You shake your head to clear out all those thoughts until tomorrow, “Thanks for giving me a lift home, Stevie.”

His lop-sided smile returns, almost as if the whole ordeal in the Uber had never even happened, “No worries, baby.”

He helps you out of the car, and your legs feel like complete jelly, but you’re thankful that you can stand upright. You feel a weight on your shoulders, suddenly noticing his varsity jacket is still on you. Blue and white, with his initials “S.G.R.” “Oh, your jacket, Stevie. Here–”

“You keep it.” He cuts you off, his eyes glittering with the reflection of the moon and stars as his lip curls upwards, “Keep it somewhere in your dorm room, somewhere where everyone can see, alright?”

“Okay.” You really don’t have it in you to question his weird request.

He walks you all the way to your dorm room like a perfect gentleman, waits while you rummage through your purse for your keys. Chuckles as he finds them for you and unlocks your door. Pats your ass as he pushes you inside.

But not before pressing a kiss on your cheek and murmuring a quiet, “I’ll see you soon enough, baby.”

And then he’s gone, and you’re alone. You put your phone on charge before immediately flopping down on your bed. Your aching muscles hum in satisfaction, and you feel instant relief as you kick your heels off and close your eyes. Your heart is racing – how had you gone from being a virgin at the beginning of the year to hooking up with two guys in the same night?!

Speaking of one of the guys, your phone begins vibrating the moment it gains its battery back, and you see a flood of texts and missed calls from Ari. And you think back to how you’d feel a small sense of satisfaction and a burst of happiness every time he texted you or called you in the past.

Now, you don’t even have the energy to open his messages. It could wait till tomorrow.

You close your eyes to sleep. And you dreamt of Ari, of course you did. You dreamt of Ari a lot. But there was someone else alongside the brunet in your dreams tonight. A blonde with a charming smile and glittering eyes, the moonlight bathing him like a halo.

But you weren’t so sure if he was an angel.

AFHJSAFA OKAY! SO. What do we think??? AND YES omfg of course the second love interest was Steve! Y'all know i'm a whore for Steve and for me, he's the only one who can believably compete against THE Ari Levinson!!! I can't wait to delve into this story!!! I hope you guys enjoyed! Feedback would mean the world to me!

(also i'm paranoid that there are mistakes and continuity errors even tho i sorta did reread it kind of but aksdfnldaskgal idk!!! i'm sure it's all fine tho)

I actually prepared some questions for yall just in case:

Is it too soon to ask if you're team Ari or team Steve?!?! BC I WANNA KNOWWW.

Do Ari and Steve know each other?!?! DO YOU THINK THEY HAVE HISTORY?!?!

Does Ari have feelings for reader?! What is Steve's deal?!!? IDK YALL JUST PLEASE TELL ME WHAT YOU THOUGHT, ANY GENERAL THOUGHTS AND FEEDBACK SDFKLSAFN OKAY BYE

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