#stan Bowes smut

[marchsfreakshow]

Red Nail Polish [Stan Bowes]

Smut / tiny bit of angst

Your boss never really spoke to you that much. Not really. So, you weren't particularly expecting a call from him at 12am asking you to come over.

This request is from AGESSS ago but I finally found some inspiration. Anon who requested it, if you're still here this is for you<3

Fair warning I haven't seen Pose for a bit so it might sound a bit ooc sorry.

Warnings: once again too much plot for a smut fic lol, brief 'sir' kink, Stan being kinda pathetic, oral (m), reader is a little mean occasionally.

18+! MINORS DNI READ MY SFW WORKS

No one's perspective

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

Stan never spoke to you. Tell a lie, he did. Occasionally. Brief hellos while he walked to a meeting maybe. Small talk maybe going over whatever he asked you to do.

There was never more than that. No lingering glances in your direction, no knowing smiles. Seemed like nothing. That's all your relationship was.

You worked like this for a few months.

Never speaking much together. Maybe you gave him lunch if he asked. You always found him cute though. The way his hair just sat the same every day, the way his eyes always gave you the same soft look when he walked past you. It was, slightly perfect. Too perfect.

Men have their secrets, you assumed he probably had his. That's probably why you liked his eyes. Too much of a past to stare at, too much to get into with your own boss who you barely spoke more than... 4 words to. You couldn't really casually go up to Stan and ask him, "Hey sir how's your home life? It's going good? Yea, your eyes say otherwise." You weren't insane!

The hours were long.

The weeks were tedious.

Eventually getting a few more words into Stan. Small conversations over lunch that didn't amount to much. The man found himself enjoying your company. "You do anything over the weekend?" He asked, adjusting himself in his chair a bit. Did he look uncomfortable? Probably.

The silence was nice, so you were slightly taken aback by his out of nowhere question. "Uh, went to see a production of Two Gentlemen Of Verona. That was nice."

"Oh, nice. On your own?"

On my own? What was that meant to mean?

"Yeah."

"Right."

The rest of lunch continued. Stan seemed off. On the edge of his seat, literally. He was uncomfortably perched on his chair, attempting to attain something just out of grasp. You noticed his fidgeting; flicking of his nails, slight playing with his food, eyes flickering around to avoid your own eyes. You wanted to pry but also figured you didn't talk enough to ask if he was okay. Stan would probably say that he's fine and you'd get right back to the slightest bit of uncomfortable silence.

Back to work.

Back to small smiles, little questions, and writing notes to yourself. For the next couple of hours. Boring and repetitive until 5:30pm. Everyone caught themselves up and left immediately. You found yourself a face in the crowd, heading towards your car before Stan got a moment to say 'Have a good evening' to you.

It was a lonely evening. He was used to hearing the TV play some children's shows for a while, hearing the little ones talk excitedly about what they did at school. Just being excited for no reason. But, no, he was greeted with silence this night. It was deafening. He had to be alone with his thoughts. It was another quick meal in the microwave. He had to face the rare few dishes still lingering in the sink. Mouldy food starting to stick to the porcelain. Only served as a reminder of the reality Stan currently lived in.

A lonely movie, lying on the couch in whatever clothes he could find. Staring up at the ceiling, blank-minded, thinking nothing. The movie waved past his ears. "Can I talk to you?"

Stan's phone call at 12am wasn't what you were expecting. You were half lying in bed, reading still. Very close to finishing the book, and that was what you were focused on. "Sir... Stan, it's 12am."

"sir...hey, call me that again," he murmured under his breath, closing his eyes. Lost in his thoughts of your voice. Maybe you shouldn't've been giving in to his desires. Stan had mentioned his wife, and his kids multiple times. He told you plenty of stories, but he seemed slightly out of it tonight.

Despite your lingering thoughts, you said 'fuck it' and responded quietly, your book closed on your lap. "Why sir? Something happened?"

"Yeah, actually. I, um, I was wondering if you could... come over."

A chuckle. "Stan.. it's midnight."

"I know. I know...just, please. I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important." Stan eventually told you his address, and you made a quick mental note. Agreeing eventually, and you hung up. Maybe you should pack an overnight bag. Yeah, maybe you should.

The drive took more time than you expected. You didn't properly change out of your home clothes either, just slipping on some underwear and trousers that weren't so... messy. Knocking quickly with the overnight bag still in the backseat of your car. "Ah, hi." Stan looked a mess, more than you felt right now and it almost broke your heart.

"Hey...why did you want me to come over?"

Stan took your hand, led you inside, and closed the door once you stood in the living room. It was certainly more messy than you would have expected. A bit of trash, a messed up couch, a random movie still playing dully on the TV. This... certainly wasn't what you were expecting. "Stan?" You asked, peeking out to the hallway.

"Sorry...sorry." The man sniffled. He quickly ran a hand over his face then took a few steps back into the living room. "Uh, come sit down. I'll, get you a drink." The words, the steps and his look only added to your confusion. Sure he was certainly...alone now, but the mess, and his clothes.

You took a few steps towards Stan and immediately held onto his arms. "Stan. What's going on?" Cutting him off of any words he was about to say. Stan looked at you, then at your hands on his arms. Then back into your eyes.

"She's gone."

Eyes wide. "Oh." How do you comfort people again? More specifically, how do you comfort your suddenly divorced boss who definitely hasn't been invading your thoughts recently? His eyes found the floor, like it was the most interesting thing in the room and said nothing for a moment.

People like hugs right? That should work. Enveloping Stan in a hug, your arms around his neck. Holding him close for a moment as he reluctantly wrapped his arms around your back. Awkward, but somehow comforting. It went on for a little bit too long, and once you pulled yourself away, his eyes found the floor again.

He wasn't really thinking much. You blinked and he kissed you. Wait what? His hands on your cheeks. This was not happening. Before he continued to kiss you, you took a step away. "Stan-"

"Fuck. Sorry." The man uttered, sitting on the couch instead. He looked quite sorry for himself. A bit of a pathetic sight really. It tugged at whatever empathetic heartstrings you had left. Stan clearly did something, and you probably should've left right then and there. I mean, were you really thinking about this? There are multiple reasons for his wife leaving, presumably with the two little kiddies. "Look, I just.." He trailed off once he saw you settle between his legs.

"um.."

"You're obviously feeling upset, and I know you did something but I don't really know any other way to comfort you." You muttered, taking a loop in the sweatpants and pulling it so the waistband became looser. Stan brought his hips up for a moment so you could pull the fabric from his hips and let it settle around his ankles.

"you really don't have to.." He protested. Stan's protests were weak. He clearly hadn't been touched for a while. Or he was incredibly attracted to you. While yes technically, you didn't have to, you felt some semblance of upset for Stan and his situation. And you figured this would be the best way to temporarily help him out. Fuck it, you might get a raise out of this tomorrow once the man came to his senses, you didn't know.

Stan's lack of pleasure for a while was obvious. He was achingly hard already, and you had barely slipped your hand into his boxers. Bit sad really. But you digressed. Slowly touching him under the fabric for a few moments, hearing his breathing get heavier, and occasional little moans escaping him. Eventually, though, Stan pulled your hand away just to tug his boxers down his legs to join his sweats.

Ah, you knew what to do now. You muttered nothing to yourself, as you rested your fingers around Stan's cock again. Taking a breath, leaning in. Your tongue resting on the underside for a moment. "Ha.."

"You okay?" You asked, pulling yourself away for a moment, looking up at Stan.

"It's uh, it's been a while.."

"Figured." Ouch. That stung in Stan's heart for a moment. The feeling immediately replaced once your lips were wrapped around his dick once again. He couldn't decide whether or not he wanted to watch you or let his head fall back against the couch. So, he eventually decided to let his head fall against the couch as you started to take more of him down your throat. One hand resting next to him on the couch and the other hesitant to rest on your head. He didn't know what type of person you were, so he could've tried to push you down and you would've hated that.

But, you just continued without a care in the world. Eyes screwed shut as your cheeks hollowed with every movement. You pulled away from time to time to breathe, revelling in the sound of Stan's small groans, whimpers and gasps. They were the sweet sounds and made it all the better. The sounds of a lonely boss who you honestly, were still decently interested in.

Yea. You were definitely going to get a raise out of this.

Stan let out another groan, keeping his fingers taut against your hair. As soon as you felt the telltale sign in your mouth, you pulled yourself away, heavily breathing still. Starting instead to jerk Stan off quickly, keeping the same pace for another few moments, until he came in your hand. Dripping down his cock and your fingers as Stan bucked up to ride himself through his orgasm since you didn't seem to help him.

"a-ah shit. I'm sorry.." He muttered once he realised he made a mess of your hand. Coincidentally, a tissue box was by the TV stand, so you stood up, cum over your hand and grabbed the box, bringing it over to Stan. Not as satisfying as Stan had hoped, but it was something and it made him feel a little better.

Silently, you cleaned your hand up, throwing the stained tissues in the bin quickly. Stan followed, slowly cleaning himself up and dressing himself back up. Cue awkward silence for a few moments. "Thanks."

"Yeah. Course."

Another few moments of silence between the two of you, ads playing in the background on the TV. Looking around the living room as you just sat there for a moment. Stan finally said something, just your name. Looking over to you with a hopeful look. "Can we...can I..take you somewh-"

"No." Stan blinked and then looked over at the wall, feeling slight whiplash at you saying no immediately. "Whatever the fuck happened... whatever the fuck you did... It clearly only just happened. And I don't think that's a good idea."

"You just-"

"Yeah, I'm fully aware of what I just did Stan."

A beat of silence. Both of you felt like at least one of you said something wrong. You figured it was Stan. Who goes and suggests a date to their secretary right after their wife left them? "...a few weeks?"

"Try a few months sir." You knew exactly what you were doing with that word. Stan knew too. There was no need for you to call him that right now. Glancing at each other.

But you got up silently and walked out to your car, leaving Stan in confusion for a couple of minutes. Once you came back in, overnight bag in hand, Stan got the idea. Well, he hoped it was the right idea. Being led through the house until you were in his room.

You were sure this was going to result in way more than a raise by this point.

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

Tags: @babygorewhore / @taintandviolent / @oceanblvd111 / @nahoyasboyfriend / @slutforgarlogan / @briaroftheroses @american-horror-whore /. @evanpeterspeter / @feefymo / @fear-is-truth / @lacucarachapisser / @saintlucretia / @jazz-berry / @t8-ak47 / @lemoniiiiiii / @xrag-dollx

[v1ctor1asecretangel]

Red Lace

stan bowes x fem!reader

song i recommend listening to: yayo by lana del rey

warnings: sugar daddy stan, smut, fingering, blowjobs, riding, car sex, squirting

word count: 1.4k

notes: guys im sorry my smuts are kinda bad🙁 ITS SO HARD TO WRITE AND FOR WHAT LIKE but here ya go! i love a good sugar daddy stan moment. sorry for ooc imma be so real with yall i didnt even watch pose. I JUST SEEN CLIPS OF STAN STOP LEAVE ME ALONE

MDNI 18+

You don't understand why Mr. Bowes insists on buying you things.

Thanks to his pay raise, you've got too much cash to spend on yourself already. You've upgraded your apartment, bought a new car, and now you shop at Whole Foods.

But this? This seems like a bit much.

"Mr. Bowes, I really don't ne—"

"And you expect me to allow you to walk home by yourself at this time of night?" He raises an eyebrow, his pale skin in stark contrast to the black leather of the limousine. Adjusting the cuff of his black suit jacket, he drawls, "Please, I insist."

You sigh, and yet you step into the limo anyway.

You feel out of place with the fancy wine glasses, smooth jazz, glossy white exoskeleton and soft red interior lighting. The partition is rolled high and you can't escape the feeling that this is private.

"Your address, Ms. Y/N?"

"Oh, right um," you hate to say you were too enamoured by all the glitter and glam that it takes you a second to come back down to earth to provide him with the proper info. Mr. Bowes raps against the partition with a fingernail, mumbling what you assume to be your address to the driver before it raises and you two are alone again.

"So, Ms. Y/N," Mr. Bowes begins. Despite all the space in the long limousine, he's sat right next to you, shoulders brushing and all. "How was lunch?"

Right. Lunch. Today, you arrived to the office with your lunch from home in hand, to find an even better one sitting on your desk with a note that read:

Eat up, Sweetheart.

— S. B.

Seriously. Is your boss trying to kill you?

But, you ate it. And it was delicious.

"It—It was good."

And, fuck. You're not one to stutter but thinking straight proves harder than you thought under Mr. Bowe's heavy gaze.

Mr. Bowes crowds you against the door and his cologne is beyond overwhelming, flooding your senses and setting your veins alight as he slides a calloused hand up your thigh, pushing your pencil skirt out of the way as he rubs up your thigh. He knows he can get away with it.

"And the outfit?"

"It uhm...fits fine."

And Mr. Bowes always finds the perfect size, too. Honestly, you're impressed—half of the time you can't find your size yourself.

Mr. Bowes hums in satisfaction, a hand sliding to play with the lace that falls over the crest of your ass. You know he likes to see you squirm and stutter blush. And yet here you are, eating it up like some slutty secretary.

"Are you wearing it right now, Princess?"

Mr. Bowes speaks like he knows, and you find your face turning a similar fiery red to the lingerie set you have on underneath your outfit.

"I am."

Mr. Bowes's eyes flutter and you swear his grip around your ass tightens, but it's gone before you blink again. A groan rolls through his chest.

"Show me, Princess."

Your eye shifts to the limousine window. You're on the highway, but you haven't got an idea to when you'll reach your apartment. "Mr. Bowes, I—"

"Stan when we're alone, Gorgeous."

"Stan, what if someone—"

"It's dark and the windows are tinted," Stan cages you in with a forearm against the door, leaning over so his mouth is leveled with your ear. "You and I both know you live a little ways away from headquarters, so what's the wait?"

You...You...

You don't know.

You find your mouth moving before you think it through, "What do you wanna see first?"

"You know me so well, Princess," Stan purrs, biting his bottom lip as his eyelids sink halfway, studying you. After a still silence, Stan speaks again.

"Take off your shirt."

You shiver.

Button by button, your fingers pull at the fabric of your shirt until the lacy red bra Stan left on your desk is on full display.

Stan groans at the view, head dipping down to press butterfly kisses to your breasts. The warmth of his palms feels strange through the lace but the thumb passing over your nipple has you shivering nonetheless.

"On your knees, Princess," a pretty pink tongue emerges to wet his bottom lip. "I want to cum on those pretty tits of yours."

Your hands are fluent and swift, from undoing his button and zipper to unbuckling his belt, and your face to face with your boss' hard cock bobbing underneath the tip of your nose.

"Suck, Pretty."

Grabbing the base of his cock, you lick from his balls to the tip, giggling at Stan's shudder.

"What, Princess? It's not my fault your mouth is sinful."

To prove his point, and to prove who's in charge, Stan bucks down your throat. It makes you choke and splutter, but you push through the spasms in your throat anyway, pulling a fairly juvenile broken moan from the billionaire's mouth.

"Such a dedicated little girl." Stan groans, gently threading his hands through your hair to grab you tight by the roots. "I bet you're soaking wet in between those legs, aren't you?"

You whimper, subtly rubbing your thighs together—you wouldn't be surprised if you left a wet spot on the floor. Your cheeks burn from the humiliating thought.

"Up."

You pull your mouth off of him, a little confused.

"Change of plans, Princess," Stan pants, lifting you by the waist and sitting you in his lap. After pulling the tight black pencil skirt above your ass, Stan bites his lip at the sight of you.

"So gorgeous," he moans, trailing a finger up your slit. "And so wet. Did I do all this, Princess?"

You slap him on the shoulder in mild embarrassment, cheeks and neck burning. Grinding your hips in his lap, you roll your eyes. "Stan, just fuck m—"

He grabs you roughly by the jaw, chuckling at the way your pretty little eyes burst into the size of saucers, "I believe I asked you a question."

"Yes," you whimper, caught off guard. Stan's grip tightens.

"Yes what?"

"Y-Yes Sir."

Stan bites his lip at the pet name, using the grip he has on your jaw to shake your head back and forth as he coos, "Good girl."

Peeling your panties to the side, the big hands on your waist guide you onto his cock. The slide is smoother than it should be, and Stan's buried in your pussy fairly quickly.

"Grind on me, Princess." Stan bucks his hips to spur you on, and you're moving the moment you pull his dress shirt into a tight little fist. Stan's always been big, but inside you? It can get a little hard to breath.

Stan's thumb ghosts your clit and it has you shivering, drunk off his slow in sensual pace.

"Hmm, you're drooling Pri—fuck!"

There's a bump in the road and it sends your pupils flying into the back of your skull, and the broken moan that tumbles out of Stan's mouth makes you want to hear more.

Bracing your knees against the plush limousine cushion, you maintain the momentum and drop yourself onto his cock so rapidly you're sure the driver can hear the slap of skin through the partition. Stan's eyes widen before his eyelids drop halfway, mesmerized by the slow but hard movements of your hips.

"Shit—c-careful, Princess," Stan puts his hands around your waist in an attempt to gain control of the speed, but you quickly swat his hands away.

"I wanna," you pant, whimpering as he hits your cervix when the limo jolts again. "I wanna make you feel good. A-As 'sa thank you."

"Awe baby," Stan coos, applying more pressure to your clit. You squeak, readjusting your grip on his shoulders, "For the outfit I gave you? When I saw it in the store I knew it'd look gorgeous—and look at you, so fucking delicious."

To reinforce his comment, Stan digs his teeth into your neck, and that's your tipping point—eyes fluttering, your toes curl and you're squirting in Stan's lap; making a mess of his cock and his (probably expensive) suit pants.

"Oh shit—" Stan lets out a guttural moan and he's filling you up, hips stuttering and eyelids flickering. His chest rises and collapses with an airy moan.

"Fuck, Princess," Stan chuckles breathily, resting his head against the limousine seat. His face is pretty and flushed red, hair stiff with sweat and dress shirt a wrinkled mess.

The limousine rolls to a stop, the smooth motion pulling your attention to the window. As you peer out, your brows knit in confusion. This isn’t your apartment building. Instead, the limo is parked in front of a grand, imposing house. One you don’t recognize but assume must belong to Stan. Its tall windows glow with soft, inviting light, the front door just beyond a well-manicured garden.

Your gaze flicks back to Stan, his casual posture in contrast to the subtle tension in the air. He catches your eye, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips, his voice low and smooth.

“Care for a quick detour, Princess?��

[doll3tt33]

Gimme ‘em gold coins !

(sugardaddy!stan bowes x user)

I was on the fence abt making his personality more ‘romantic’ in the settings, but decided to stick with the same definition as last time cuz I want him to stay in-character ((I ofc added the extra info abt him being in search of sugar baby n stuff

Btw sorry for making it more female oriented, but remember u guys are free to edit the greeting message to whatever fits. It won’t affect the rp!

The greeting message:

🤍 tagging: @evanpetersbf

Sharing the link from the new version of the website in case you guys have trouble with the bot showing up!

[evanpfics]

My Sweet Boy - Stan Bowes

Stan Bowes x Fem Reader (smut)

Summary: you and stan have been secretly seeing eachother for a few months, you love eachother deerly. One night you guys stay in a hotel together and things get heated, but stan feels a little insecure during it so you help him out. Not proof read cause im lazy.

W A R N I N G S : oral ( both recieving ), praising, PinV, overstimulation, softdomtosub fem , subtodom stan, insecurity, possible triggering topics, cussing, smut to fluff , aftercare, let me know if i missed any or made mistakes in the story.

Keys jingled as Stan unlocks the hotels door. As soon as you entered you plopped down onto the bed while Stan take off his coat and hangs it if the wooden hanger next to the door.

He makes his way next to you and your lips locked as soon as he sat beside you. You slowly started to unbutton your shirt as his left hand held the back of your head pushing you closer to him as his right is feeling around your thigh.

You are left topless wearing only a black lingerie bra. You start to reach your hand out to feel for the buttons on stans shirt as he grabs your hand quickly but softly and holds it as he leans onto you, pushing you onto your back as the kisses get sloppier.

He breaks the kiss and stares into your eyes as he lets out a small smile.

“Give me a moment, my love.”

You nod softly as he kisses you on the forehead and exits to the bathroom.

You position yourself comfortably awaiting his return to continue what you have been waiting for.

Stan’s POV

I make my way into the bathroom feeling more anxious the longer I stand there.

I unbutton my shirt allowing myself a good look in the mirror criticizing each portion and aspect of my body.

The more I look around my body the more reasons I find to hate it even more than before.

I let out a worried filled sigh as i grab onto the extra chub around my stomach, only becoming more critical.

I button back on my shirt before sleeking my hair back with my fingers nervously before exiting out the bathroom.

Readers POV

You can hear Stan coming back to the bedroom and your heart runs fast with excitement.

He crawls onto the bed before moving over you, now hovering over you, he places a kiss on your cheek.

“I like being with you, I love you y/n, I really do.. but-“ he says hesitantly before being cut off.

You cup his cheek rubbing your thumb against his shockingly smooth skin.

“But what? Did I do something?” You asked worryingly.

“No, no! Not at all.” He grabs your hands before kissing them.

“I just,.. I’m worried I’m not in the right shape to really fufill your needs, love.”

You close your eyes before kissing him reassuringly.

“Listen Stan, i love you. Your all I want and more baby, trust me. You don’t need to worry about your body near me.” You say as you wrap your arms around his neck.

He gulps shakily, you can see it trail down his throat with his adams apple slightly bobbing.

You kiss him passionately before he allows you to move on-top of him.

You position yourself on his lap as he lays down on his back. You move your hands down his throat gently before trailing them down along his shirts buttons. You slowly start to unbutton them staring into his eyes after each one to make sure he’s comfortable.

You can see visible doubt on his face making sure to smile softly at him to give him some sort of reassurance as you continue to unbutton.

You move the sides of his shirts revealing his chest.

You trail your hands down them softly before moving them back up.. then down again. Repeating this motion until he seems less tense.

You place soft kisses on his neck before finding his soft spot, nipping at it while leaving gently kisses afterwards.

You can hear soft groans coming out of his mouth before trailing your kisses and bites down his chest leaving behind love bites. Marking him.

You can feel himself harden up against you as you slowly grind yourselves against one another.

You stop, leaving him to exhale from the loss of pleasure as you move yourself lower.

You unbuckle his belt and move his pants down to his thighs.

His worry grows stronger.

You leave soft kisses near his v-line gesturing that all will be okay, and to just enjoy himself.

He shifts a bit allowing himself to get more comfortable.

You can see his hardened dicks outline inside of his boxers. Begging to be let free.

You play with the elastic around his boxers lifting it then letting go letting a small snap sound echo through out the room.

Teasing him.

You can see him become more needy for your touch as slight visible frustration forms on his face.

You decide to stop messing with him for now and move his boxers down allowing his cock to spring up.

You bite your lip a little surprise from the length and girth.

You place your tongue at the bottom of his length moving up to the tip.

He exhaled slightly.

You place your mouth on the top of his cock swirling your tongue around his sensitive tip.

You can feel his hips squirm a bit. Letting out small grunts.

“How sensitive.” You thought. Though it did make everything more interesting for you.

You laid your tongue flat against his tips hole slowly moving it as you start to take more of him inside your mouth.

You can see him lifting himself up on his elbows examining you as you pleasured him.

You bobbed your head up and down his shaft making sure to toy with his sensitive tip with your tongue.

He started to lightly thrust his hips farther into your mouth getting more and more desperate to finish.

You remove your mouth from his cock letting him let out a small wince.

You placed your hand on his now drenched in spit member as you slowly moved your hand up and down his hard on.

You can hear his breathing become more heavy as he leaned his head back rubbing his eye with the back of his hand just to knead his eyebrows.

His mouth hanged slightly open allowing his soft moans to escape any chance they could.

You picked up the pace of your strokes placing your thumb on his pre-cum dripping tip rubbing it back and fourth against its hole.

You can feel him start to thrust his hips into your hand growing more impatient to release.

He looks up at you looking more closer to releasing with a soft look in his eyes, he always had a “sweet caring” look to him.

He slammed his eyes shut grinding his teeth slightly allowing his moan become slightly muffled as he came all over your hand.

His hips continued to ride out his finish until he became too sensitive to continue moving. You waited.

Once he finished you removed your hand licking up his cum staring at him. You can see his body flinch a bit whenever you licked along his sensitive parts as you cleaned him up.

You smiled at him while moving above him.

“You did so good my sweet boy.” You said as you kissed him. He could taste himself as your tongue entered his mouth exploring.

He took advantage of this as he started to take slight charge in the kiss which surprised you slightly. You can feel a smile form along his face as his kiss with you deepened.

You allowed slight moans escape into his mouth only making him wanting more.

He broke the kiss before staring into your eyes.

“I want to make you feel good, so fucking good. If you’ll let me.” He sounded so confident yet still wanted to make sure you were okay with his every move. His main focus was you.

You nodded as he left kisses along your neck trailing down your collar bone, above your clothed breasts, and onto your stomach.

He made sure he nipped slightly at your stomach making it jolt back ever so slightly as you let out a small groan. He removed your skirt completely as he did so.

He rubbed his hands along your thighs admiring your whole body completely. He was lost in it.

He gulped shyly before staring at you then back at your lower half removing your panties making sure you were okay. He was still sort of worried about being able to please you to your satisfaction, but he didn’t hold that over himself too much.

Once your lower half was completely exposed he positioned himself with his head infront of your heated core and your legs over his shoulders.

He looked at you for reassurance to keep going before diving in. Wasting no time.

You felt your legs tense up as his tongue flattened against your cunt. Licking up and down in a swift motion.

You bit your lip letting out small moans as he took it as a sign to slowly speed up.

He licked circles around your clit causing you to slowly hump against his tongue.

He let out a soft groan, you felt the vibration from it around your clit making you more crazy. You leaned your head back. “Stan..” you moaned.

He would kitten lick your clit, draw circles with his tongue on it, just to flatten his tongue against your cunt moving it slowly before repeating the process.

His every move sent you closer and closer to the edge causing you to squirm.

His grip on your hips tightened hard enough to leave bruises. His thumbs rubbed against your hips making sure you know he doesn’t mean to cause you any harm in case he does so.

You can feel his tongue travel into your cunt slowly starting to go in and out of you rhythmically.

Your slight humping only became more intense as you slammed your eyes shut leaning your head back letting out mesmerizing moans.

“F-fuck.. stan please.. please I’m so close.” You whimpered.

He let out a “mm” sounding sound causing even more vibrations as his tongue was already thrusting into you. This drove you over the edge and he knew it would.

Your orgasm finally hit which caused you to let out moans echoing around the room. You didn’t care if anyone else could’ve heard.

You rode out your high against his tongue as he stared back up at you.

He cleaned up your aftermath with his tongue making sure he drove his tongue over your overstimulated clit time to time as he cleaned you up to tease you just like you did to him.

He leaned himself above your face going back into a passionate kiss just as before. You both could taste each other in this kiss which you found oddly arousing.

Your mouth opened slightly allowing his tongue to roam within your mouth. He nipped at your bottom lip causing you to groan into his mouth.

You can see that he was hard. Again.

He slowly started to jerk himself slightly before lowering his overstimulated tip. Rubbing it against your overstimulated clit. You both let out slight moans from both slight pain. More pleasure than pain.

He looked down at you breaking the kiss waiting for any sign of permission to continue what he had planned.

You nodded slowly before he leaned back into the kiss.

He positioned the tip of his cock in the front of ur entrance before slowly sliding in.

Both of your past finishes made it way easier to slide in without any interruptions.

He broke the kiss leaning his nose and forehead against yours slightly before biting his lip.

“Fuckk, your so.. tight.” His moans made it only harder to finish his pleasurable remarks.

His hand moved to intertwine with yours making sure not to put to much pressure on it as his other hand guided down to your hip. Allowing him to thrust in and out of you faster and steadier.

Lewd sound filled the room which only made you more aroused. His grip tightened as his cock slided in and out of you, almost exiting completely, before pushing his whole member in.

You leaned your head back from pleasure allowing him full access to kiss and nip at your neck allowing his groans to push up against it.

You can feel your vision become fuzzy as his pace sped up. His thrusts only becoming more sloppier then the last.

“I’m.. so close baby..” you whine.

“Not yet baby.. w-wait for me.” He stuttered as he had to bite his lip mid sentence to push back his moan.

His grip around your waist tightened as his thrusts became inconsistent.

“Go ahead.. baby.. cum. Cum for me.” He exclaimed before kissing you.

You felt your legs shake as both of your hips buckled forcing yourselves into each other through your releases.

Your mouths becoming flooded with moans.

You guys slowly began to ride out the rest of your highs before he pulled out. Making sure not to cum all the way deep inside you.

His cum seeped out of your cunt staining the sheets below you.

Your body stayed laid against the bed. His still above yours as you guys both caught ur breath. Shaking.

After a bit Stan kissed your forehead before grabbing his shirt and cleaning you up.

He proceeded to get off the bed making sure to get you some cold water to help sooth you.

He came back holding the cup. You can see his exhausted eyes stare up at you filled with a caring and loving look.

He helped you lift your upper half up handing you the water carefully. He fluffed up your pillows before planting himself next to you.

You handed him the water and he sat it on the nightstand on the side of the bed.

He gently helped you laid back against him cuddling you lovingly.

“I love you so much, y/n.”

“I love you too, my sweet boy.”

This was all inspired by a scene Ryan Murphy decided to leave out of pose (Pose 2018).

If you have any criticism lmk! Thank you for reading.

[evanchantingpeters]

"Why haven't I seen these Evan pics before?" dump. Mmmkay, devoured...

No, but why did he serve so much—even in the most casual instances?

[evanswifeily]

I swear if someone will say that Evan Peters is just a man i don’t know what I’ll do to them yet BUT HE IS A GOD‼️

[evussy]

Word count: 9k words (smut with plot, TW cult, dub-con, mentions of knife, force intimacy, manipulation, gaslighting, use of bible verses while having sex, fl virgin, unprotected sex, dark & disturbing—it’s literally a Kai Anderson FanFic let’s be fr)

DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT READ AT YOUR OWN RISK MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

Faith = Reader

Messiah

Laughter echoed through the kitchen, warm and carefree. Faith stood at the counter, her hands buried in dough as she kneaded, her thin white sleep dress brushing her knees. A smudge of flour streaked her cheek, unnoticed in the sunlight streaming through the floral curtains. Across the room, Emma whisked something in a stainless-steel bowl, her messy bun bouncing with every laugh. Her oversized white T-shirt and pajama pants looked as casual as the conversation.

"Remember when I first met you? You couldn't even speak English!" Emma teased, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

Faith groaned, laughing as she rolled the dough beneath her palms. "Oh, come on! Forget that! What did you expect? I'm an immigrant!"

Emma leaned against the counter, catching her breath from laughing. "Your pronunciation was always so funny!"

"Stop it! You're so mean!" Faith threw a small pinch of flour at her, unable to hide her grin.

Emma smirked, wiping her arm. "And that time you told me about your first date—using all those metaphors! I didn't understand a thing, but your confused face—"

The words cut off as the front door slammed open, the sound like a gunshot reverberating through the house. Faith froze, the laughter draining from her face. Emma's whisk stilled mid-air, her expression snapping into alarm.

Four strangers stepped into the kitchen, their presence as oppressive as a stormcloud. Three men and one woman, all in their late twenties, towered over the two young women. The first man, tall with a thick beard, scanned the room with a predatory gaze.

"You look happy. Contented," he said, his voice heavy with sarcasm as his eyes landed on Emma.

Emma looked like she wanted to melt into the floor. Her skin turned pale, her shoulders curling inward defensively. Faith glanced at her, confused and uneasy.

"Haven't seen you in a while, Emma," another man chimed in, his bleached-white hair gleaming under the sunlight. Dressed in a sharp red suit, he smirked with condescension. "Our leader is wondering if you're still loyal. You know you can't just walk away, right? Ignoring all your responsibilities?"

Emma swallowed hard, her hands trembling. "I didn't walk away," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm not running anywhere."

Faith's frown deepened. "Emma, who are these people?" she asked softly, her unease growing.

Emma stammered, but no words came out.

"What's the matter, Emma? Are you ashamed of your family now?" the woman sneered. She was pale and sharp-featured, her thick eyeliner giving her an almost predatory look.

"You've got work to finish. Did you think we'd forget?" growled a third man, dressed in a blue uniform that looked out of place in the casual home setting.

"Just give me more time—I promise, I'll do it," Emma pleaded, her voice trembling.

"Promises, promises," the woman mocked, her lips curling into a cold smile. "Maybe you should make a pinky promise with him. It's been weeks, Emma. Do you think the world revolves around you? We're starting to wonder if you're useless."

Faith's jaw tightened as she stepped forward. "Excuse me? Don't talk to her like that. And who the hell are you to call yourselves her family? I've met her family—it's definitely not you!"

"Faith, shut up!" Emma hissed, panic flickering across her face.

The bearded man tilted his head, studying Faith with detached curiosity. "Should we kill her?" he asked the woman coldly. "She's a friend. Might know something."

"No! Don't!" Emma stepped forward, her hands raised in desperation. "She has nothing to do with this! Please, don't get her involved! I'll explain everything to Kai—I'll do what he asked, I swear. Just leave her alone."

Faith's panic boiled over. "What the hell, Emma? Who are these people? What's going on?"

The man in the red suit smirked. "Kai hasn't given the order yet. Let her explain. Killing them both here would be messy."

"You're not taking her!" Faith shouted, grabbing Emma's arm protectively. "Emma, these people are insane! Don't go with them!"

But her resistance was futile. The men moved quickly, one grabbing Faith's wrist while another yanked Emma toward the door. Faith struggled, but their strength overpowered hers.

"Take her too," the woman said coldly, pointing at Faith. "She'll be a nuisance otherwise. We'll deal with them both at the house."

The terror on Emma's face mirrored Faith's as the two of them were dragged outside, their protests drowned out by the sound of the van's doors slamming shut. The bright afternoon sun burned against Faith's skin, but the chill in her chest was far colder as the engine roared to life.

They were dragged across a vast living room, their footsteps muffled against the polished wooden floor. The dim, golden glow of ceiling lights struggled to pierce the heavy shadows lingering in the room, leaving much of the dark-paneled space cloaked in an oppressive gloom.

The air felt thick, suffocating, as they were shoved forward. Their captors gripped their arms tightly, forcing them to the center of the room. Faith stumbled, her bare feet sliding on the cold floor, her thin dress doing little to shield her from the chill. Emma, silent and trembling, barely lifted her head.

Then came the sound of measured footsteps, echoing from the staircase at the back of the room. All eyes turned as a man descended the wide, creaking steps.

His buzzed hair gleamed faintly under the dim light, his sharp features carved with calm authority. He wore a simple black shirt tucked neatly into dark jeans, the sleeves rolled just above his elbows, revealing forearms marked by faint scars and veins that spoke of quiet strength.

As he reached the bottom step, their captors released Faith and Emma abruptly, as if their very presence might offend the man. Faith staggered slightly but caught herself, her wide eyes darting toward Emma, who stood frozen, her arms crossed defensively over her chest.

The man's gaze swept over them, lingering just a moment longer on Faith. His expression was unreadable—calm, calculating, and unnervingly composed. He stopped a few feet away, his presence filling the room like a sudden drop in temperature.

No one spoke. The silence stretched taut, broken only by the faint creak of the wooden floor beneath his boots as he shifted his weight. Finally, he clasped his hands behind his back, his voice low and steady when he spoke.

"Emma," he said, his tone devoid of warmth but heavy with unspoken expectation.

Emma flinched as if his voice had struck her. "Kai..." she stammered, her voice cracking.

Faith's breath hitched. This is him. This is the man they were talking about.

Kai tilted his head slightly, his dark eyes never leaving Emma. "You've been very busy," he said evenly. "And yet, not busy enough. Do you know how much trouble you've caused me?"

Emma's knees wavered, and she clasped her hands in front of her, her lips trembling. "I was going to—I didn't mean to—I just needed more time."

Kai let the silence stretch for a moment longer before his gaze shifted to Faith. His eyes scanned her slowly, taking in every detail—the flour still faintly dusting her cheek, the tremor in her hands, the way her dress clung to her frame.

"And who," he asked quietly, his tone sharp enough to slice through the air, "is this?"

No one spoke. The silence was suffocating, heavy with unspoken tension. Faith could feel it—the weight of their hesitation—as if uttering her name would seal her fate.

Kai's sharp gaze flickered between the people in the room, his patience thinning. He took a deliberate step toward Faith, the soles of his boots barely making a sound against the floor.

"Cat got your tongue?" he murmured, his voice low but cutting, every syllable sinking into her like a blade. His dark eyes lingered on her trembling form for a moment before he glanced around, his brows lifting in a calm, expectant gesture.

Someone had to speak.

"Her name's Faith," the woman finally said, her voice neutral but clipped. "That's what Emma called her earlier."

Kai tilted his head slightly, his gaze returning to Faith. "And why is she here?" he asked, his tone still calm but laced with an edge that made every word feel like a warning.

The man in the blue uniform shifted uncomfortably before speaking. "She's a friend. Tried to interfere earlier when we came for Emma. She wasn't part of the plan, but we didn't have time to deal with her, so we brought her along. Figured she might know something... or start spilling later."

Kai's eyes didn't leave Faith as the man spoke. The explanation seemed to hang in the air, sinking in slowly.

He inhaled deeply through his nose, his sharp jaw tightening for a brief moment before relaxing. His gaze bore into her, assessing every detail—her posture, the way her bare feet shifted nervously against the cold floor, and the fear radiating off her like heat.

"Faith," he repeated, his voice rolling over the syllables as though tasting them. It wasn't a question. It was an acknowledgment, deliberate and uncomfortably intimate.

Faith's chest tightened as she kept her gaze fixed on the wooden floor. Her pulse thundered in her ears, drowning out the oppressive silence. Her instincts screamed at her to look away, to disappear into herself, yet she felt his eyes crawling over her like a physical weight.

What had started as a simple, impulsive defense of her friend had spiraled into something far worse. She could feel it in the way the room seemed to darken around him, in the chill that seeped into her bones.

She swallowed hard, her throat dry. She was too afraid to meet his gaze.

Kai's lips quirked, not into a smile but something far more unsettling, like he was memorizing her—every quiver, every breath, every ounce of her fear.

"So, tell me, Emma." Kai's voice was smooth, almost gentle, but the undertone was unmistakable. It was a command wrapped in false affection.

Emma's breath hitched audibly, her shoulders tightening. She couldn't bring herself to meet his gaze.

"Why haven't you done what I told you to do?" His tone dropped lower, each word deliberate, slow, and weighted.

Faith watched him, her confusion mounting. His voice carried an unsettling mix of reprimand and encouragement, like a parent disappointed yet still coaxing.

"You're holding back our movement," he continued. "You know I need you, right? No one could've done this better than you. You're perfect for this. I trust you enough to know that."

"I know, I'm sorry..." Emma stammered, her voice trembling. "I just... I'm having cold feet... Kai—I—"

Her words trailed off, disjointed and incomplete. Faith listened intently but couldn't make sense of the exchange. Cold feet? Movement? Perfect for what? The vagueness hung heavy in the air, and this time, despite her growing fear, Faith stayed silent.

Kai stepped closer to Emma, his hand rising to cup her face with unsettling tenderness. His thumb brushed against her cheek, a gesture so soft it made Faith flinch.

"I know this is hard for you," he murmured, his voice a mockery of comfort. "But I love you, Emma. You know that, right?"

Emma nodded weakly, her body trembling under his touch. "I know," she whispered, her voice breaking. "But I'm scared. I'm really, really scared. I don't want to die."

Faith's lips parted as her best friend's words sunk in. Her stomach churned with a mix of shock and disbelief. Die? What the fuck is he asking her to do that involves dying?!

Kai didn't flinch at Emma's tears. If anything, his grip seemed to tighten slightly, though his tone remained soft.

"If you do this," he said, his voice almost hypnotic, "you'll live forever through me."

Emma's red-rimmed eyes flicked toward Faith, her gaze full of something Faith couldn't immediately place—regret, guilt, or maybe resignation. It felt like a silent goodbye, a final acknowledgment of something Faith wasn't ready to understand.

Faith's body tensed as her heart pounded. A sickening realization clawed at the edges of her mind, but the words still wouldn't come. She could only watch as Kai's hand lingered on Emma's tear-streaked face, his presence suffocating them both.

Kai's eyes followed Emma's gaze, his curiosity sharpening as both their eyes landed on Faith. Emma quickly averted her gaze, but Kai's lingered. His stare held an intensity that made Faith's skin crawl.

Then, as if deciding something in his mind, Kai looked back at Emma, the corner of his mouth curling into a faint, almost playful smirk.

"Do you want to do it together?" he asked casually, as if proposing something mundane. "Your friend isn't leaving here anyway. That way, you won't be alone, and it'll be less scary."

Faith's heart dropped. Her head snapped toward Emma, searching her friend's face for any semblance of an explanation, but all she found was panic.

"No!" Emma shook her head vehemently, her voice rising in desperation. "No, please, let her go. She has nothing to do with this, Kai. It's not fair for my best friend—"

"Best friend?" Kai interrupted, his tone dripping with amusement.

He turned back to Faith, taking a slow step toward her. She stiffened as his gaze swept over her, not in a leering way, but like he was studying a new piece of art. His eyes held an unnerving mix of interest and calculation, like he was fitting her into some grander scheme.

Faith's lips parted to speak, but the words died in her throat. She didn't trust her voice.

"She's your best friend?" Kai asked again, his tone softer, almost teasing. He tilted his head slightly, his gaze flicking back to Emma. "And you thought it was fair to bring her here? Into this?"

Emma's breathing quickened, and her eyes darted back and forth between Faith and Kai. "I didn't bring her—she just happened to be at my house. Please, she doesn't know anything!"

Kai smiled faintly, though it didn't reach his eyes. "Interesting," he murmured. His gaze slid back to Faith, his expression unreadable.

Faith's pulse raced as she struggled to comprehend the exchange. Every word between Kai and Emma felt like a puzzle piece, but none of it fit together. All she knew was that whatever Kai was suggesting, it was bad—very bad.

"Well," Kai continued, his voice light but laced with menace, "since she's already here, maybe she can stay a little longer. You said she's your best friend, right? Wouldn't you want her by your side for something so important?"

Faith's stomach dropped, and she clenched her fists. Her instincts screamed to run, but she couldn't move.

Emma shook her head violently, tears streaming down her face. "No! No, Kai, please! I'll do whatever you want, but let her go. She doesn't deserve this."

"You know I can't let her leave," Kai said, his voice eerily calm, addressing Emma as though Faith wasn't even there. "She already has an idea of what's going on. Unless..." He trailed off, turning his head toward Faith with a slow, deliberate gaze. "...she wants to be a part of us? Of course, I'd never insist or force anyone to join," he added smoothly, a false warmth lacing his tone. "I didn't force you, remember?"

Emma stood frozen, her face pale, her breaths coming in shallow gasps.

"But if she doesn't..." Kai sighed, a theatrical display of weariness. "She can't go on another day, Emma. You know I have to be fair. No one gets exceptions here—not even your best friend." He emphasized the last two words, his voice hardening. "I have rules, Emma. Rules that protect all of us."

"She's got to stay alive, please," Emma pleaded, her voice cracking as tears streamed down her cheeks. "This is my fault—"

"Your fault?" Kai interrupted sharply, his tone deceptively soft. "Is being here a mistake for you?" His brow furrowed as if her words had wounded him, his eyes narrowing in mock sadness.

Emma's mouth opened, but no words came. She choked on her reply, her fear tangible.

Faith, on the floor, tried to muster every ounce of courage she had. "Can't you just let Emma go? We won't say a thing to anyone. We'll pretend this never happened—"

Her plea was cut short as Kai's hand struck her across the face with brutal force. The impact sent her sprawling to the ground, her cheek stinging with a searing heat.

Kai exhaled heavily, looking down at her with disdain. His hand slid down his face, rubbing his mouth before falling limply to his side. His stress seemed genuine, but it only made him more menacing.

Emma flinched at the sound of the slap, her sobs stifled as her body froze in place. She squeezed her eyes shut, unable to move, unwilling to draw Kai's attention again.

"You don't get to talk back," Kai hissed, his voice dangerously low as he loomed over Faith. He pointed a finger down at her, his expression cold and unrelenting. "You don't even have the right to speak when I'm not talking to you. Do you understand?"

Faith pressed her trembling hands to the floor, her face throbbing as she avoided his piercing gaze. She didn't answer, her fear locking the words in her throat.

Kai waited, his silence heavy and oppressive, before stepping back toward Emma. "Fix this, Emma," he said simply, his tone soft but loaded with a threat that didn't need to be spoken.

Kai gestured to the man in the blue uniform, who immediately stepped forward and handed him a knife. The blade glinted coldly under the dim light as Kai tapped it rhythmically against his palm, the sound sharp and deliberate, like a clock ticking down.

He turned to Emma, his expression softening into a mockery of concern. "Are you still loyal to me, Emma?" he asked, his voice laced with feigned worry, though his eyes betrayed his predatory intent.

Emma's breath hitched, her body trembling. She didn't respond.

"C'mon," Kai urged, stepping closer and holding the knife out to her. "Take it."

Hesitantly, Emma extended her shaking hand and grasped the knife. It felt heavier than it should, her palm slick with sweat as her fingers closed around the handle.

Kai's gaze bore into her, his lips curving into a faint smile. "Now prove it to me," he said, his tone gentle yet commanding. "Prove to me that you're still loyal. That you're still my girl, Emma."

Emma's knees buckled, but she stayed standing, clutching the knife tightly.

"Kill this b*tch," Kai said nonchalantly, gesturing toward Faith with a lazy flick of his hand, as if her life were a minor inconvenience to be discarded.

Faith froze in place, her heart hammering in her chest. Her body moved before her mind caught up, stumbling back a step as if to distance herself from the growing horror.

"Emma," Faith whispered, her voice barely audible. Her wide, tear-filled eyes met her best friend's. She shook her head slowly, her lips trembling. "Please. Don't do this."

Kai watched the exchange with an air of amusement, his arms crossing as he leaned casually against the back of a chair. "Go ahead," he said, his voice light, as if they were discussing the weather.

"Show me your loyalty, Emma. I'm waiting."

Emma's hands shook violently, the blade quivering as her grip faltered. Tears streamed down her face, her lips parting as though she wanted to say something but couldn't find the words.

Faith's back hit the wall, her hands raised in a quiet, desperate plea. "Emma, look at me," she whispered. "Don't let him do this to you. You don't have to do this."

Kai's expression darkened, his patience thinning. "Emma," he barked sharply, causing both women to flinch. "You don't make me doubt you, do you?"

The room fell silent, save for Emma's ragged breathing.

"Kai... I—I'll do what you ask me," Emma stammered, her voice cracking under the weight of her desperation. "Sooner. Immediately. Tomorrow! Just... just spare Faith! Please!" Her tear-filled eyes darted toward Faith. "Faith, you'll be a part of us, right? You'll help us, right?" she cried, her tone pleading, almost frantic, as though trying to convince herself as much as her friend.

Faith's chest heaved with sobs, her back pressed firmly against the wall. "I don't even know what this is, Emma!" she cried out, her voice raw and trembling. "What the hell are you in? What's happening?"

"You just have to be loyal to Kai," Emma said, trembling, her grip on the knife tightening as though holding onto it might anchor her. "Like me—like everyone else. Help us—" Her voice cracked, and she broke into another sob.

Kai scoffed, the sound low and condescending. He stepped forward, his hands shoved into his pockets as his shadow loomed over both women. "And in what way," he said slowly, his tone dripping with disdain, "will she be useful to me?"

Emma froze, her breath hitching as Kai's cold gaze burned into her.

"You can barely manage to be useful yourself, Emma," he continued, shaking his head, disappointment laced in his words. "Why would I waste my time on someone weaker than you?"

Emma's knees buckled, but she remained standing, her head bowed in shame and fear. Faith, meanwhile, stood frozen, her mind racing for an escape that didn't exist.

Kai clicked his tongue, pacing slowly between them. "You disappoint me, Emma. Again," he muttered, his voice a mix of mockery and menace. "Now tell me—why exactly should I listen to your pathetic begging?"

"She can cook for you and clean," Emma said hurriedly, almost stumbling over her words. "She's good at it! Isn't that what women are for?" The last phrase escaped her lips involuntarily, something she'd heard Kai say countless times.

Kai's lips twisted into a sneer, his eyes narrowing with contempt. "That's all?" He scoffed, his voice dripping with disdain. "She can't even kill? Does she even have anything to fight for? Like we do?" He took a step closer to Faith, his gaze intense and piercing.

"I can't kill," Faith said quickly, her voice shaking with fear. "I can't go to jail. I don't want to go to jail," she added, her heart pounding in her chest. She couldn't risk everything—her life, her sick sister, the fragile sense of stability she had left.

Kai's gaze shifted back to Emma, a silent agreement passing between them. He shrugged with a bored expression. "See?" he said simply, as though the answer was obvious. "She's not worth it."

"Faith, please!" Emma's voice cracked with frustration. Her hands trembled at her sides, desperate to find some way to fix this—to save her friend from whatever fate Kai had in store for her.

"Aren't you looking for the right woman to bear your successor? Why not her?" The man with white hair and a red suit spoke, his voice daring, cutting through the tense silence.

Kai stopped dead in his tracks, his lips slightly parted as the suggestion hung in the air. The idea seemed to sink in slowly, his gaze shifting between Emma, Faith, and the man who had spoken. His expression darkened, considering the proposition.

Faith's face drained of color, her eyes wide with terror. The weight of the suggestion settled over her like a suffocating fog. She felt as though her life was being toyed with, threatened by the very thought of what they might be suggesting.

"Emma! Speak! They can't do that to me!" Faith shouted, her voice cracking with shock and panic, eyes pleading with her best friend for help.

For a moment, the room fell into a suffocating silence. Kai's gaze never left Faith, slowly tracing her form from head to toe, as if he were sizing her up. She was fragile, all fire and defiance on the outside, but he could see it—the fear in her eyes, the trembling in her stance. It was clear. He could break her, reshape her into what he wanted, force her into submission.

The white, thin dress she wore—innocent and delicate—suddenly made perfect sense. She looked like a sacrificial lamb, untouched, pure... like the Virgin Mary, offering herself for something much darker.

"Faith..." Kai's voice was soft, almost reverent, as if speaking her name brought something sacred to the moment. She stood before him, trembling, untouched, like she had stepped out of a storybook. "Maybe this is fate?" he murmured, a strange, chilling satisfaction in his words.

"You're insane! All of you are insane!" Faith lashed out, her voice sharp with defiance. "I'm never going to have sex with you, you disgusting piece of shi-"

Before she could finish, the bearded man stepped forward, pressing the cold barrel of a gun against her neck. The air in the room felt like it had been sucked out. Her heart raced as everyone held their breath, waiting for something to happen. But Kai-he was calm, his eyes never leaving Faith, a twisted admiration flickering across his face. He wasn't offended.

No, he was in awe.

The gun's cold metal dug into her skin, and Faith refused to flinch. "I'd rather be killed today than let you have me," she spat, her voice steady despite the panic clawing at her throat. "At least I can keep my dignity! You're not going to be my first. Just thinking about it makes me sick! A baby? A crazy child like you?" She glared at Kai, the anger surging through her. She was ready for death now.

Anything was better than being a vessel for his madness.

Kai didn't respond immediately. Instead, he looked at her, eyes narrowing, lips curling into a dark smile. "So, you're a virgin?" His voice was quiet, but every word felt deliberate, like he was savoring it.

Faith's chest tightened, but she didn't answer. It was as if cold water had been poured over her, freezing her in place. His look-satisfied, pleased-sent a shiver through her, and she couldn't tear her gaze away.

"You're clean. Untouched..." Kai mused, his eyes glinting with something dangerous. The way he said it-like it was something he owned now-sent a wave of unease crashing through her.

"Get that gun out of her face," Kai ordered. He motioned to two of his men. The one with the white hair and the bearded one. They moved quickly, grabbing her arms and pulling her toward a room. Faith screamed, struggling against their hold, her fists beating uselessly against their grip. But it was no use. They dragged her away, her cries echoing in the empty hallway.

The room was stark and cold, its simplicity amplifying the fear that clung to the air. A queen-sized bed sat in the center, its white pillows and sheets marred by the faintest signs of old stains. Wooden furniture—nothing fancy—lined the walls, a small cabinet, and a bathroom tucked off to the side. Hours had passed since she was brought in here, the weight of time pressing heavily on her chest. She had searched the room meticulously, rifling through every cabinet and corner, hoping for a weapon -anything. But there was nothing. Every attempt to open the door was met with cold, mocking voices from outside, telling her it was useless.

She paced, anxiously, her thoughts racing.

Then, the door creaked open.

Kai stepped inside, his presence as imposing as ever. But this time, his gaze was different. It wasn't filled with the usual disdain, but rather something unsettling -something that made her feel like her existence meant more to him now, like she had some kind of purpose to him.

"Do you want to pray first, Faith?" he asked, holding a Bible in his hands, his voice deceptively calm.

"F*ck you!" she spat, trembling with a mix of anger and fear.

In a fluid motion, Kai stepped forward, slamming the Bible across her face. The sting exploded across her skin. "The mother of my child won't speak like that," he said coldly, his eyes narrowing. "You need to understand your place here, hm?"

"I'm not a mother," she spat again, her lip split and bleeding.

His eyes darkened, his patience visibly thinning. He exhaled sharply. "Get on the bed," he ordered, his tone firm and unyielding. Every word felt like a weight, pressing her further down.

She shook her head violently. "K*Il me instead," she cried, her voice breaking with desperation.

Without saying a word, Kai motioned for two men to enter. The sight of them only made her heart race faster, her fear spiking.

"F*cking tie her to the bed," Kai instructed, his voice void of any mercy.

The men moved quickly, grabbing her as she screamed, her hands struggling to free themselves. The man in the blue uniform reached behind his back, pulling out a set of handcuffs. Faith thrashed, kicking and shouting, but it was no use. They were too strong, too many. They forced her down onto the bed, pinning her in place before cuffing her hands to the metal headboard.

Her body went rigid, her screams echoing in the room. She thrashed with every ounce of strength she had, but the steel cuffs bit into her wrists, and she was trapped.

And there stood Kai, towering over her feet. His presence alone was enough to make her stomach churn. The Bible he clutched in his hands felt like a twisted contradiction against the cruelty in his eyes.

Kai's gaze burned into her, his dark eyes alight with a fervor that bordered on madness. Slowly, he began unbuttoning his shirt, his movements deliberate as if to savor the moment. The room seemed to grow colder, the weight of his intentions suffocating.

Faith's breathing hitched as the shirt slipped from his shoulders, revealing the hard planes of his chest. His skin was marred only by the inked symbol that dominated the center—a blazing sun with rays curling outward, and at its core, a single, unblinking eye. It stared out like a sentinel, its design intricate and foreboding, as if it were alive and watching her every move.

Below the tattoo, his chest was chiseled, every muscle defined, the sharp lines of his abs dipping into a taut V-shape. A faint trail of dark hair ran from his navel downward, disappearing beneath the waistband of his dark jeans. The sight was unnerving, a twisted contrast to the raw, male beauty he exuded.

Kai noticed her stare, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He reached up, running a hand over the tattoo as if to emphasize it, his fingers brushing against the inked eye. "This," he said, his voice low, reverent, "is the mark of the divine. The proof of my purpose."

He leaned over her, the heat of his body oppressive as his words dripped with fervor. "You will worship me, Faith. And together, we will bring forth the light."

She broke into a silent sobs once again, the weight of his presence pressing down on her, as his lips curled into a twisted smile. The ritual, it seemed, was only just beginning.

The room was suffocatingly quiet, the only sound her ragged breathing and the faint creak of the bed beneath her. The sheets clung to her skin, their texture rough against the thin fabric of her sleeping dress. The wooden walls surrounding her felt oppressive, closing in like a cage.

She flinched as he crawled onto the mattress, the springs groaning under his weight. He moved slowly, deliberately. His hands moved with slow precision, trailing down her arms, his touch almost gentle. His fingertips brushed her collarbone, lingering at the base of her throat. She stiffened, the conflicting mix of fear and something she couldn't name tightening in her chest. "Your body," he said, his voice dropping lower, "is a vessel for divinity."

He let his palm flatten against her stomach, moving in languid strokes, as though savoring the feel of her skin. "But first, it must be sanctified." His hands dipped lower, his touch skimming the hem of her dress

The way his eyes never left her face made her want to squirm, but the cuffs held her firm, trapped beneath his scrutiny.

Kai shifted, his weight pressing the mattress down beside her. His mouth hovered at her ear, the warmth of his breath making her shiver as he whispered, "Your flesh is not your own. It belongs to a greater purpose." His lips grazed the edge of her jaw, his tongue flicking out to taste the flour on her cheek. His fingers slipped beneath the fabric of her dress, brushing along her thighs with a deliberate slowness that made her squirm.

"Don't fight it," he murmured, his voice taking on a sharper edge. "Submission is salvation."

His free hand slid up to cup her face, turning her gaze back to his. Her eyes burned, tears threatening to spill, but the raw intensity in his expression rooted her in place. "Don't look away," he commanded, his tone suddenly sharper. "This moment is sacred."

His fingers lingered at the edge of her underwear, his movements slow, savoring the power he held. He leaned closer, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. "This is not just for me," he murmured, his tone reverent yet cold. "It's for the world. This is for the next messiah."

Her breath hitched, and she finally found her voice, though it trembled. "Y-you don't have to do this," she stammered, trying to push her knees together, but his hands held her thighs firmly apart. "Please... I don't want this."

Kai paused, tilting his head as if her words intrigued him. "Your desires are irrelevant," he replied softly, his grip tightening. "You were chosen, not because you wanted it, but because you were destined."

She shook her head, panic bubbling to the surface. "I'm not... I'm not who you think I am! This is a mistake!"

A faint smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "There are no mistakes in my plan," he said, his two hands pushed the fabric of her dress higher, baring her completely. The humiliation burned through her, making her squirm beneath him, but his weight pinned her in place. "No," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

"Please, don't."

Kai ignored her, his lips grazing her neck as he muttered, "And the angel said unto her, Fear not, Mary: for thou hast found favor with God." His voice was soft, almost tender, as though he were comforting her. But his actions were anything but.

His hands moved with more purpose now, exploring her body with invasive familiarity. Every touch felt like a violation, his palms rough against her soft breast . She twisted beneath him, her wrists straining against the cuffs that held her. "Get off me!" she screamed, her voice cracking with desperation.

Kai's hand shot to her throat, tightened slightly around her throat, enough to still her struggles without cutting off her breath. His thumb stroked her jawline, almost gently, as his other hand moved with unhurried precision. He slid his fingers lower, his touch grazing the sensitive skin of her clothed center before pressing firmly against the thin fabric still shielding her.

A soft gasp escaping her lips as his finger began pressing slowly and circling over her most vulnerable spot. "You will carry the child of God," he murmured, watching her face as her hips involuntarily shifted. His thumb alternating between soft, teasing motions and firmer pressure, watching her carefully. His lips returned to her skin, marking her with open- mouthed kisses along her neck and shoulder.

"No," she whimpered, her voice cracking as her hips jerked instinctively. "Stop- please-"

He cut her off with a sharp press of his thumb, dragging them firmly along her through the fabric. "Your words mean nothing," he said, his tone calm, dismissive. "This is your purpose. It's written into your flesh."

Her thighs trembled against his hand, the sensation overwhelming despite her desperate attempts to resist it. She bit her lip hard, trying to stifle the sounds rising in her throat, but Kai was relentless. He shifted his weight, settling lower as his hand slipped beneath the fabric, his fingertips brushing against her bare entrance.

The first touch was a deliberate stroke, dragging through her folds with maddening slowness, spreading the dampness he found there. "Your body already prepares itself," he said, his voice a mixture of reverence and control. "You cannot fight His design."

Her head thrashed against the pillow, tears spilling freely now. "I-I don't want this," she choked out, her voice thick with desperation.

"But you need this," he countered smoothly, his fingers finding her most sensitive spot and circling it with excruciating precision. His movements were slow and controlled, alternating between feather-light teasing and firmer, more insistent strokes. Her back arched involuntarily as a jolt of pleasure coursed through her, and her face burned with shame.

"Stop," she gasped, her voice barely a whisper now. Her body trembled beneath him, every nerve alive with sensations she didn't want to feel.

Kai's lips quirked into a faint smile. "You'll thank me later," he said, his voice disturbingly calm. His fingers pressed deeper, exploring her with invasive confidence, stroking and teasing until her hips moved involuntarily against his hand.

"No, no-" she whimpered, trying to twist away, but the cuffs held her firmly in place. Despite herself, she felt the heat building low in her stomach. Her breaths came in short, uneven gasps, and her thighs quivered against his hand. "No," she sobbed, shaking her head as if to deny what her body was feeling.

Kai's smile, dimples deepened, his movements unrelenting. "Your body doesn't lie," he murmured. "Let it guide you to the truth."

Her tears blurred her vision as she twisted beneath him, desperation igniting a brief surge of defiance. Her bound wrists strained against the handcuffs, and her legs kicked, trying to shove him away. "Get off me!" she screamed, the rawness in her voice matching the fury in her chest.

Kai's eyes darkened, his calm demeanor cracking just enough to reveal a flicker of impatience. He caught her flailing leg with one hand, pinning it firmly against the bed as his other hand didn't waver from its sinful exploration. "You fight like a lamb struggling against the altar," he muttered, his tone sharp but still composed. "But you will submit."

"Let me go!" she spat, her voice shaking with anger and humiliation. She twisted her hips violently, desperate to break free, but it only seemed to amuse him.

"Such spirit," he murmured, his lips curling into a sinister smile. "But it's wasted on defiance." Without warning, he plunged a middle finger inside her, the sudden invasion stealing the breath from her lungs.

Her body froze, every muscle locking up as an unbidden moan escaped her lips. She hated the sound the moment it left her, but the sensation was undeniable-sharp, intrusive, and achingly slow as he pushed in deeper, curling his finger just so.

Kai's smirk widened. "There it is," he whispered, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "The moment the anger fades, and the truth begins to seep in."

She bit down on her lip hard, the coppery taste of blood grounding her. Her walls clenched around his finger involuntarily, a shameful heat blooming in her core. "No," she whimpered, her voice trembling as her hips instinctively shifted, trying to escape the overwhelming sensation.

But he didn't let up. Instead, he added a torturous twist to his movements, his finger pressing against a spot that made her vision blur. His pace was maddeningly slow, dragging out every unwilling reaction of her.

Her head shook violently, her hair sticking to her damp cheeks. "I- I hate you," she managed to choke out, but the words lacked conviction. Her body, traitorous and weak, was responding in ways she couldn't control.

Kai laughed softly, the sound low and chilling. "Hate me all you like," he said, his finger withdrawing agonizingly slowly before thrusting back in with a firm motion that made her back arch despite herself. "Your hatred only fuels the fire. It will burn away everything else, leaving nothing but your truth."

Her legs quivered against the mattress, her breaths coming in short, uneven gasps. She clung desperately to her anger, but it was slipping through her fingers like sand. Every calculated curl of his finger, every deep, probing thrust unraveled her, piece by piece.

"No," she sobbed, tears streaming down her face as her hips moved involuntarily, tilting upward into his hand.

"Stop, please..."

Kai leaned in closer, his lips brushing against the corner of her mouth. "You say stop, but your body begs for more," he murmured, his voice soft, almost mocking. His finger twisted inside her, pressing deeper, eliciting a strangled moan from her lips.

Her anger, once blazing, was now flickering, replaced by a growing, shameful ache that she couldn't suppress. Her wrists fell limp against the cuffs as her body trembled beneath him, caught between resistance and reluctant surrender.

Kai's hand stilled, his finger remaining buried within her as if savoring her trembling silence. His gaze swept over her tear-streaked face, the faintest trace of amusement lingering in his dark eyes. "Faith," he said softly, as if her name were a prayer. "Do you understand now? This is not cruelty-it is creation."

Her lips quivered, but she refused to meet his gaze, her cheeks burning with humiliation. "You're insane," she whispered, her voice hoarse.

"Perhaps," he replied, his tone maddeningly calm. "But even the prophets were called mad."

He withdrew his soaked finger slowly, purposefully, drawing a choked gasp from her as the sensation left her aching and empty. She thought he might stop-give her a moment to breathe-but the weight of him shifted, and she felt the rough scrape of his jeans against her thighs as he knelt between her legs.

Her panic reignited as she realized his intent. "Wait, no -no!" she cried, thrashing beneath him. "You can't- I've never—"

Kai tilted his head, his expression softening in a way that only made him seem more unhinged. "I know," he murmured, running a hand down the length of her trembling thigh. "That's what makes this pure."

Her struggles grew frantic, but he was immovable, his hands gripping her hips with bruising force. His touch returned to the apex of her thighs, spreading her gently despite her resistance.

"Shhh," he cooed, his voice eerily tender. "The first time is always a revelation."

She shook her head violently, her tears falling faster. "Please," she begged, her voice breaking. "Don't do this. You don't have to do this."

His response was a low hum, his hands tugging at his belt with practiced ease. The sound of the buckle clinking sent a fresh wave of fear coursing through her, and she kicked out, desperate to put any distance between them.

Kai caught her ankles effortlessly, pressing them back down to the mattress. "Be still," he commanded, his voice carrying an edge of authority that sent a shiver down her spine. "You'll only make this harder on yourself."

She whimpered, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she fought against the inevitable. She felt the warmth of his body against hers, the fabric of her thin dress offering no protection as he pressed closer.

He positioned himself with deliberate care, his hand guiding himself to her entrance. The blunt pressure against her sent a jolt of terror through her, and she shook her head furiously.

"No, no, no-"

Kai exhaled sharply, his grip on her hips was unyielding, his fingers digging into her flesh as he moved slowly, inch by inch, forcing her body to accommodate him.

The pressure increased, the stretch burning as he began to push forward. Her nails dug into her palms, her breath hitching in her throat as pain shot through her. "It hurts," she gasped, her voice trembling. "Stop, please—"

"Pain is part of the sacrifice," Kai muttered, his jaw tightening as he pressed deeper. "But it is fleeting, I promise you. What comes after... is divine."

The stretch was relentless, the burn sharp and undeniable, but he pressed forward without hesitation, his breath hitching as he sank deeper.

"There," he muttered, his voice heavy with satisfaction as he bottomed out, his hips flush against hers. His head tipped back briefly, a low groan rumbling from his chest.

Faith's head turned to the side, her cheek pressing into the damp pillow as she bit down on her lip to muffle her cries. Her body trembled, unused to the intrusion, every nerve alight with a confusing mix of pain and an unbearable fullness.

Kai shifted his hips, pulling back slowly, the drag of his length against her walls both invasive and maddeningly deliberate. The motion made her gasp, her body clenching instinctively around him as if to resist his retreat. He chuckled darkly at her reaction, his movements unhurried as he pushed back in, grinding against her with a pressure that stole the breath from her lungs.

Each thrust was deep, filling her completely, the friction making her toes curl involuntarily. His hips rolled with calculated control, his every motion designed to draw out her reactions, no matter how much she tried to suppress them.

She whimpered as his pace quickened slightly, his movements becoming more fluid. The mattress creaked beneath them, the sound mingling with the labored breaths and muted cries that filled the room. His hands roamed over her body, one sliding up to press against her lower stomach, holding her in place as he drove into her.

"Feel that?" he asked, his voice a low, gravelly whisper. His hand applied just enough pressure to make her hyperaware of the depth of his thrusts, the way he seemed to fill every inch of her. "That's me claiming you. Body and soul."

Her hands grasped in the metal headrest as she writhed beneath him, her resistance faltering with every calculated movement. He whispered into her ear, "For He has made you fearfully and wonderfully... and mine."

Kai's thrusts grew more purposeful, his hips snapping forward with a force that made her body jolt with each impact. The wet sound of their bodies meeting filled the room, amplifying her humiliation. Her breaths came in short, broken gasps, her body unable to ignore the growing heat building low in her stomach.

"No," she whimpered, shaking her head weakly, her voice barely audible.

"Yes," he countered, his teeth grazing her earlobe as his pace quickened.

Faith let out a choked sob, her body arching against him despite her protests. The pleasure was unwanted, overwhelming, and it consumed her completely, her resistance melting under the relentless onslaught of his touch and movements.

Kai's thrusts slowed for a moment, his hips rolling in a careful, torturous grind that made her gasp sharply beneath him. He seemed to savor the sensation, his head tilting back as his eyes fluttered shut. "You're so tight," he murmured, his voice rasping with unrestrained pleasure. His hands slid to her thighs, spreading her further to feel every inch of her. "Like a vessel waiting to be filled."

Faith shuddered at his words, her walls spasming involuntarily around him as his deliberate pace left her breathless. She could feel everything-the heat of him, every pulsating veins of his within her walls, the way he stretched her, the slick friction that sent unbearable jolts of sensation through her core.

Kai's breath hitched, a guttural groan escaping his lips as her body clamped down on him. "Yes," he muttered, his hands gripping her hips harder, pulling her back to meet his slow, deep thrusts.

His hips drawing back until only the tip of him remained inside her, teasing her with a maddening pause before driving forward again. The force made her body jolt, her thighs trembling as the fullness overwhelmed her senses.

"You'll bear my seed," he said, his voice deepening, laced with something almost reverent. He leaned over her, his lips brushing against her ear. "As it is written, 'Be fruitful and multiply; fill the earth and subdue it.' " His tone was steady, like he was reciting holy scripture while sinking into her again.

Faith whimpered as she clung to the metal frame on top of her head. The pain had dulled, replaced by an unwelcome heat that coiled tighter with every thrust. She hated how her body responded, the slickness between her thighs betraying her as he moved.

Kai's breath came faster now, his control fraying as her warmth surrounded him. He muttered under his breath, his words fragmented and fervent. "Though I walk through the valley... oh, the way you f*cking cling to me," he groaned, his hips snapping forward with more urgency. "You resist, but your body welcomes me, doesn't it?"

She shook her head weakly, her voice breaking. "No... I—I don't want this..."

"Your lips lie," he growled, his pace quickening, the sound of their bodies meeting growing louder. His hand slid between them, his fingers brushing against the sensitive bundle of nerves at her center, drawing a sharp gasp from her. "But this... this tells the truth."

The new sensation made her cry out, her body arching involuntarily as his touch sent shockwaves through her. He applied just enough pressure to keep her on edge, his thrusts steady and relentless, building a rhythm that left her unable to think of anything but the way he filled her.

"'The two shall become one flesh,'" he murmured, his voice low and almost gentle, as though he were comforting her. His fingers moved in sync with his thrusts, his hips rolling with practiced ease.

Her mind spinning. The pleasure was undeniable now, crashing over her in waves, leaving her gasping and trembling beneath him.

Kai's movements became desperate, his breath ragged as he pulled back slightly, positioning himself in a way that deepened their connection. With a swift motion, he pushed Faith's legs up onto his shoulders, forcing her hips higher, leaving her completely exposed and vulnerable beneath him. The angle made every inch of him feel more intense—too much. It felt as though he were trying to imprint himself inside of her, claiming her in the most physical way possible.

Faith gasped, the shift in position pushing her closer to the edge. The new angle made every motion of him feel even more invasive, more powerful. Her legs trembled as they rested on his shoulders.

"And the Lord said," Kai muttered, his voice low and intense, almost feverish. "Let there be light..." His thrusts quickened, each one dragging a sharp gasp from Faith as his body pressed harder into hers. "Let there be life..." He slammed into her again, the force making her breath catch in her throat.

Faith's mind was spinning, her whole body was on fire, every part of her reacting against her will, trembling with the force of it.

"Please... no more," she gasped, her voice breaking as she tugged against the cuffs. Eyes in a daze. But the words were meaningless to him. He only smiled, the Bible verse slipping from his lips like a command. "I am the way, the truth, and the life..."

Faith's body bucked beneath him as the pressure inside her built, the unbearable tension in her belly threatening to snap.

Kai's thrusts were now erratic, his hands gripping her thighs tighter, holding her in place with a primal need. His groans were louder now, his movements frantic as he neared the edge. "You will bear my seed," he breathed, his voice thick with lust. "And you will be mine... forever."

With a final, brutal push, Kai buried himself deep inside her, the force of his hot release crashing over her in a moment of complete surrender. Faith's body spasmed beneath him, the shock of his release causing her to climax violently, her walls tightening around him as she shook uncontrollably.

For a long moment, they were locked in place, her legs still resting on his shoulders as he trembled above her. Kai muttered one last verse, his voice barely a whisper, "It is finished..."

The room was still, save for their heavy breathing, as he slowly collapsed against her, his body heavy with the aftermath of their intense union.

[wh0re43van]

Older- (Stan Bowes X Reader)

Word count: 4k

Summary: You’re interning under Stan who's taken quite the liking to you, but you’re much too naive to notice at first.

Warnings: age gap, smut, thigh ridding?, cheating

A/n: Okay ya’ll, this is not my best. My motivation randomly dropped like a week ago and I've been trying to get it back. I'm so sorry.

I started my paid internship at Trump tower a few weeks ago in order to finish up my business degree. I’ve only seen my temporary boss a few times, but he is an extremely intimidating man. His suits are always pressed and starched in a very neat way, his hair always gelled back perfectly; not one strand out of place. He walks with confidence and determination. He’s horrifying. And of course, on the day that I’m having a major wardrobe malfunction, I have to go into his office. I stayed at a friend’s house last night and left my work shirt at home. Thankfully, she also has an office job as well, so she has appropriate clothes- at least for her body type. She’s much smaller in the bust than me, so the top button on my blouse has been popping open constantly. I’ve been walking around with my hand on my chest all day as if I’m saying the pledge of allegiance on repeat.

I stand outside of Mr. Bowes door, taking a deep breath with my papers in hand, ensuring my button is snapped shut- at least for the time being. I bring a shaky hand up to knock on the wooden door. A few seconds later I hear,

“What now? What is it? Come in!”

Great, he’s already frustrated with me. I slowly open the door, sticking my head in. He doesn’t remove his attention from the many papers spread across his desk.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Bowes,” I say in a feeble tone, standing awkwardly in front of him. He looks up when he hears my unfamiliar voice. His dark eyes scan over my face and my body. I feel small and weak under his intense stare.

“It’s fine Miss…” he says firmly awaiting me to introduce myself.

“Oh! I’m so- I- Y/n Y/l/n,” my tongue seems to stop working. “I’m an intern. Th-that’s why I’m here actually,” I smile nervously. “I need you, uhm, to fill out this form proving that I- I’ve completed the first two weeks here at the company,” I clear my throat, mentally kicking myself in the ass for how stupid I sound. Mr. Bowes, however, seems to find it amusing. A small smile creeps onto his face, revealing two charming dimples.

“Very well then Miss Y/n,” he holds out a strong hand. My trembling fingers pass him the papers. “No need to be so nervous,” he says, staring directly into my soul. His dominant presence makes me feel like a child who’s been called to the principals office. He scans over the form. “Can I have you go ahead and sign this for me, Miss Y/n. That way as soon as I get around to it we can fax it to your school. I’m all about efficiency,” he smiles politely, handing me a pen.

“Of course, sir!” I say a bit too enthusiastically, I flinch when my voice cracks. As I take the pen from his hand, I can see him stifle a laugh to save me from embarrassment. I bend down to sign the paper with a shaky hand, before standing back up. Stans eyes are locked on to my chest, he clears his throat, using his eyes to motion to my blouse.

“Shit,” I mutter as I turn around quickly, my cheeks burning crimson. I quickly pull the fabric together tightly to snap the weak fasteners. Even with the snap buckled, there’s a gap in between the two buttons; I try my best to hide it. I slowly turn back around to face my boss, my eyes closed, too afraid to look at him.

“Mr. Bowes, I am so sorry, I this- I- th-“ I take a deep breath. “This isn’t my shirt. I apologize,” I finally open my eyes to see him leaning back in his chair, his face firm but a glint of amusement in his eyes. He grabs a mint from his desk, popping it in his mouth.

“Have a seat, Miss y/n,” Is all he says, staring at me with the intensity of a thousand suns. I take a seat from my shaky legs. “I’d hate to have to do this upon our first-time meeting officially,” he begins, but the smirk on his face says otherwise. “But it is company policy that I inform you that the attire you’ve worn into work today is not up to our standards,” he says simply as he leans forward onto his elbows. “Do you always wear such revealing clothes,” he asks, tilting his head to the side a bit.

“No! No, Sir, of course not,” I plead, hoping that he’ll believe me. “This isn’t my shirt, it’s a friends! I was in rush, and I couldn’t find my shirt- well this all she had. She uh- her, uhm chest is a bit smaller than mine so it’s not exactly, uh, the most flattering on me,” I try to explain in a mush of words. He listens intently, nodding his head.

“I see,” he sits up, straightening his tie. I can see his biceps strain against his white button up as he adjusts the strip of fabric around his neck. “You seem like a respectable young lady, and I’m a sensible man, Miss Y/n. I understand that there are some things out of your control,” he offers me a small smile, seemingly dismissing the situation.

“Thank you, Sir,” I let out the breath I was holding.

“Please, call me Stan,” he insists as he leans back in his chair.  

“Yes, sir- I mean Stan!” I correct myself, my cheeks blushing. “I apologize, I’ve never referred to a man of such power and superiority in such a casual way,” I admit honestly. He seems to like my acknowledgment of his power over me, he puffs his chest out a bit at the comment.

“Refer to me in whatever way makes you comfortable, Miss Y/n,” he grins.

“Yes, sir,” I look down at my feet, my stomach is a ball of nerves. Stan just sits there, staring at me as if he enjoys intimidating me, while I wait for him to dismiss me.

“Are you free this weekend, Y/n?” he asks as he leans back down to his elbows, crossing his hands, while awaiting my answer. I notice a wedding ring on his finger.

“Uhm, I believe so,” I say but it comes out more of a question. Why would a married man possibly want to know about my weekend plans?

“Would you be willing to meet with me outside of the office to complete some more work? I believe it will enhance your education and your experience with us,” he offers simply, but I notice an underlying tone in his voice, I’m just not sure what is.

“Does it count as over time?” I ask with a small laugh, finally being comfortable enough to crack a small joke. He looks a bit thrown by my comment- which confuses me- but he lets out a small chuckle.

“Yes of course, I would never ask you to work for free,” he smiles while grabbing a piece of paper, scribbling down an address. “This is my home address,” he hands me the slip. “Does 9 am Saturday sound okay?” he raises his brows.

“Uh yes sir, whatever works for you,” I smile, accepting the scrap of paper. “Should I just knock? I apologize, I’m not yet acquainted with the etiquette of professionalism,” I blush a bit. He seems to enjoy my naiveite.

“Yes dear, just knock,” he chuckles. “Oh, and please be sure to wear something more appropriate,” he says but it comes out light- a joke.

“Oh of course Mr. Bowes! I wouldn’t want your wife to get the wrong idea,” I say out of respect for his relationship, motioning to his wedding band with my hand. Stan looks a bit taken back, almost as if he forgot he was married somehow. He clears his throat.

“She’s out of town with our children this weekend. With no distractions we’ll be able to get the work done in just a couple hours I’m sure,” he’s back to his calm, dominant demeaner now.

“Alright Sir, I’ll see you at 9 am on Saturday,” I smile standing from my seat, walking towards his door.

“Miss Y/n,” his voice stops me, I turn around. “I need to know that you understand that this is something that will be kept between us. I need you to tell me that you won’t speak of this to anyone,” he says sternly. My face contorts into a quizzical expression.

“Uhm yes sir, I can do that. I won’t tell anyone,” I promise. “But can I ask why, Mr. Bowes? I’m just a bit confused. How is this any different than us doing work at the office?” I ask genuinely. I know I don’t understand work etiquette quite yet, but this seems a bit strange. My response seems to stress him a bit, but ultimately he lets out a chuckle.

“Look y/n, I’m a married man with a reputation to uphold, you’re a young bright-eyed lady. Word spreads fast,” he says slowly.

‘oh’ I understand what he’s implying now.

“Yes sir, of course. I understand. People have a tendency to talk,” I nod, wringing my hands nervously at his stern demeanor.

“Very good,” he seems pleased with my understanding. “You’re dismissed,” he motions to the door. I thank him, walking out of his office.

“Well, that was odd,” I mutter to myself as I find my way back to the secretary quarters.

•

•

Saturday morning comes soon enough. I get dressed- making sure to put on a shirt that actually fits this time- and a skirt that stops just above my knees. I pull on some black thigh-high stockings and allow my hair to flow freely. I’m not sure why, but I decide to put on some light makeup. Just some mascara and a subtle red lip. It’s strictly just work, but I can’t help but want to impress Stan. He’s just such an alluring man. I know it’s wrong, he’s a married man- not to mention probably at least 15 years older than me- but he’s so charming. I take a final look in the mirror before heading to the taxi that Stan has called for me.

I walk up to his beautiful house; He obviously has money. I knock on the door, adjusting my outfit while I wait for him. Within seconds, Mr. Bowes is greeting me.

“Adalaide, so nice to see you,” he smiles warmly, inviting me in. I look around the nicely decorated home in awe. “I trust that no one has seen you come in?” he asks as he pokes his head out the door before locking it behind me.

“Uh, no sir. At least not that I’m aware of,” I smile innocently. “Mr. Bowes your home is stunning,” I say still looking around.

“Oh, this place? It’s nothing,” he grins, putting his hand on my lower back, leading me to his couch. I jump a bit at the unexpected touch, but I don’t mind. I’m just a bit confused by it. “So, this shouldn’t take much time, we can get started if you’d like,” he explains, his voice low and-if I’m not mistaken- a bit sultry as he sits down on the sofa next to me. I take a seat, then I notice that there is no paperwork in sight.

‘that’s odd,’ I think to myself, searching around for the task in question.

“Sure Mr. Bowes, you’re the boss,” I giggle lightly, awaiting directions. He looks at me, placing a hand on my knee.

“Miss, Y/n. I have to ask,” he sighs. “You do understand that I didn’t bring you here for actual work, right?” he leans a bit closer to me, raising his eyebrows. My smile drops.

“Oh no… Am I in trouble?” I ask innocently, looking at him with sad eyes. He lets out a chuckle.

“No, my dear. Of course not,” he gives me a kind smile. “I was just hoping to get to know you a little better,” his voice comes out low as he rolls the hem of my skirt in his hands, that’s when I notice his wedding band is no longer on his finger.

‘Oh…OH!’ my eyes widen at my epiphany. I’m not allowed to tell anyone, his wife is away, he made sure no one saw me come in, he’s had his hands on me since I got here… for fucks sake the first time I met the man, my tits were out. God, why am I so naive?

“Oh, I uh,” I clear my throat nervously. “I understand now, Sir,” I blush, slowly looking up at him. His looking at me with lust filled eyes.

“My, you sure do blush a lot,” he says with amusement in his voice. “It’s adorable,” he smirks. He seems to be attracted to how innocent I’ve been about this whole thing.

“Uh, thank you sir,” I give him a shy smile, nervous- but excited- about what’s going to happen in the next hour. This man is like catnip; I couldn’t resist him if I wanted to. He makes a simple white button up look far too good as his hand slowly moves up my thigh.

“No need to be shy y/n,” he says in a whisper against my neck. “Just relax,” his voice is low and gentle, but dripping in seduction. I shiver as he slips a warm hand under my skirt. His fingertips brush my skin where my stockings end.

“Yes sir,” I bite my lip in anticipation, nodding my head. I turn to face him, our eyes exchanging an intimate look. I can’t wait any longer. I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling his face against mine. He lays me down on the couch, his lips still on mine. My stomach flips seeing the dapper man hovering above me. “May I suggest going somewhere a bit more…private, Mr. Bowes?” I ask as my fingers twirl the dark hair that falls neatly at his neck. The living room is full of large bay windows, as anxious as he is about his nosey neighbors, this doesn’t seem like the smartest place to have an affair.

“These are the kind of ideas that will move you up in this company,” he smirks as he stands, offering me a hand. I giggle, letting him lead me to his bedroom. I can’t believe how elegant his house is, if I wasn’t completely dripping in arousal and desperate for this man, I’d take the time to complement his house again. The room is neat and minimalistic. I take notice of the picture frames face down on both the night stands.

‘That’s probably his family,�� I frown to myself. Guilt flushes over me quickly. I turn to face Stan to tell him that this might be a bad idea, but the way he’s is looking at me while he loosens his tie makes any thought other than his skin on mine fly out the window. Stan smirks, keeping his eyes locked onto mine as he sits down on his bed, patting his leg.

“Come here, darling,” Stan coos, his voice makes me weak. I take a step towards the bed. “Crawl,” he demands simply. I give him a confused look. he smirks as he slides his brown leather belt out of his pants. “Crawl to me, dear,” he lays the belt on the mattress beside him. As he begins to unbutton his white dress shirt he asks, “Can you do that for me, y/n?” I simply nod as a grin creeps onto my face. I’m confused, but oh so excited. I assume this is something the older men are into, and I’m more than happy to explore that. His eyes follow me as I drop down to the floor. I slowly crawl over to him, settling on my knees in between Stans slack clad legs, looking up at him with lust laced eyes as I await further instruction. “Use you manners,” he says in the tone he uses on me at the office. I catch onto what he’s implying after a few seconds.

“I apologize,” I giggle, as I look up stan. His stern look and his sultry gaze make me drool. “Yes sir,” I smile, pulling my bottom lip between my teeth. Stan smirks, seemingly pleased by my response.

“Good girl,” he nods. “Come here,” his voice is stern yet sultry as he pats his leg. Butterflies explode in my stomach and down to my core as I straddle his thigh. I sit on his leg with nothing more than his pants and my underwear keeping us apart. I can’t help but giggle with excitement as his hands run up my legs to push my dress up before he cups my ass in his hands. “You’re stunning, Miss Y/n,” his voice came out low as he smiles genuinely.

“Thank you, sir,” I blush. He grabs my chin, pulling me into press his lips onto mine. I giggle into as I wrap my hands around the back of his neck. His hands slide up my body, stopping to hold onto my hips. As I brush my fingers into his slicked back hair, he starts to bounce his leg and using his hands to maneuver my hips back and forth. I moan into the kiss as Stan bites my bottom lip, unzipping the back of my dress. The fabric pools around my waist, bouncing with his leg as I grind against him. The friction against my core makes my toes curl as Stan moves his mouth roughly against mine.

“Are you enjoying this dear?” he breathes against my lips in low tone.

“Mhm,” I moan, gripping onto his thigh as I grind against him, focused on my own pleasure. I feel Stans hand grip my neck, pulling my head down closer to his face as he continues bouncing his leg. We breath the same breath as I stare deep into his dark eyes, moaning inwardly. “Manners, darling,” his growls, squeezing my throat with the last word as his lips brushing against mine. I whimper in his grasp.

“I’m sorry, Sir,” I whimper, staring into his stern eyes as I feel my orgasm quickly building from this new experience. The entire situation is so wrong; he’s my boss, a married man in his 30s, yet here I am; his college intern grinding an orgasm out on his leg. I roll my eyes back as I release, moaning out in pleasure as the euphoria floods my senses.

“Look at me, darling,” stan growls, tightening his grip on my throat. I open my eyes, biting down on my bottom lip. Stans watching me intently as he continues bouncing his leg, seeming to notice every twitch and moan my body makes as I ride out my orgasm. His strong arm reaching for my throat is tensed, making the veins pop out more than usual. Stan is truly one of the most beautiful men I’ve ever seen.

He finally stops his leg, and I lay forward onto him so that my head is resting on his shoulder as I catch my breath.

“Thank you, sir,” I whisper. He lets out a small chuckle.

“You’re welcome, Miss y/n,” he grabs my chin, tilting my head to look at him. I press my lips against his as he lays me down on the bed. His hands slip my dress completely off my body as mine work to finish unbuttoning his dress shirt. His kisses trail down my neck as I reach to undo his pants. “A bit eager, hm?” he laughs into the crook of my neck.

“Extremely eager, Sir,” I giggle as I continue to slide the trousers down his legs. He kicks them off before sliding down my body, settling between my legs. He kisses my stomach down to where my panties rest, each peck sending electricity through my body. His soft hands gently remove the thin fabric covering my core, as if he’s afraid he may break something. His eyes are focused on my body as he rids me of the fabric. “You are stunning,” he breaths, not looking away from my now completely bare body.

“Thank you, sir,” I blush, he smiles at me before dipping a finger into my entrance, earning a gasp out of me. He bites his lip, removing his now slick finger, bringing it up to trace circles on my clit.

“Always so ready to please. That’s a good quality to have,” he chuckles, standing from the mattress to further remove his boxers and shirt. Seeing him in all his glory is surreal. He crawls on top of me, earning an audible, anxious gulp from me. He smiles as he leans down, resting his toned forearms on either side of my head, lining himself up with my entrance.

“Are you ready dear?” he asks, in my ear.

“Yes sir,” I whimper, shaking from anticipation. With that he pushes into me slowly as a low groan creeps from his throat. I gasp, squeezing my eyes shut trying to adjust to his size. His movements start slow, but soon the pain melts into pleasure and I give him permission to speed up. His thrusts are quick and deep, earning desperate moans from my mouth with each stroke. The way Stan holds my hip and grips my throat while he fucks me is a sensation I’ve never experienced before. I’m complete putty in his hands, allowing him to use me in anyway he sees fit, and I’ll thank him every time. Briefly pulling out of me, Stan flips me around to my stomach.

“Hands and knees,” he pants out as he stands from the bed. I quickly scramble on the mattress to get into the position he’s requested as my heart feels like it’s going to beat out of my chest. “Good girl,” I can hear his smirk as he brings a hard hand down over my ass, earning a whimper from me before he thrusts back into me, no mercy this time.

“Fuck!” I moan out as I feel him bottom out immediately. Stan finds his rhythm, using his hands to pull my body against his with every deep stroke.

“God, you take me so well,” Stan groans as he moves a hand underneath me, rubbing his thumb over my clit. I moan loudly at the extra stimulation. Stans thrusts get sloppy, and his groans get louder as I begin to flutter around him, focusing on my own climax as he pounds into me relentlessly.

“Fuck,” I whimper, warning stan of my orgasm approaching.

“Be good for me, I want you to beg,” Stan pants out with smack on my ass.

“Please sir,” I whine as my legs begin to shake. “Please let cum. I can’t hold it. Please sir,” I plead in a way I never thought I would speak to man.

“Good girl,” he speeds up his finger that’s working with my bundle of nerves. I quickly come undone. Sweat forms a thin sheen on my forehead as I release around him, seeing stars. Soon after, he pulls out before I feel his warm seed shoot out, running down my back. I lay down on my stomach, closing my eyes as I try to catch my breath. Stan lays down right next to me, pulling me into his side. I look up, his chest heaving as he wipes his forehead with his hand.

“I think we’ve made a lot of progress today,” he chuckles as he brushes my hair off my sweaty face.

“I agree, Mr. Bowes,” I giggle as I rest my head on his shoulder.

[s1ut4evan]

new toy - stan bowes x fem reader

*smut*

*not proofread*

Stan comes home with a new toy! Though it's not one you expect...

wattpad: s1ut4evan

————————————————————————

•

•

•

The warmth of my tea fogged up my glasses as I took a sip. I sat my book face down on the couch to keep its place while I tried to de-fog my lenses. Just then, headlights from a car flashed across the wall, telling me that Stan was home. I placed my glasses down next to my book before I got up to go greet him.

•

I heard the garage door open while I walked down the hallway. But I was confused...the engine of our car seemed louder. Different. Without a second thought I entered the garage and was met with a cherry red Mustang.

•

My mouth gaped open. I couldn't believe my eyes. Stan exited the vehicle revealing a huge smile on his face. "I-I.. wait.. wha- the fuck?!" was all I managed to say. "How bout her baby? What you think of our new ride?" Stan held out his arms like he was begging for a hug.

•

I placed my hand over my mouth before walking towards him. His large arms wrapped tight around me as the warmth of his kissed tapped the top of my head. Still speechless, I looked up at Stan, unable to grasp what is going on. "Hey now don't worry, we're able to afford it after all with my new promotion." he shook his head to assure me.

•

"I just can't believe..my dream car! Holy shit!" I jumped up and down like a child on Christmas morning. "You're the best baby!" I lifted my arms and placed them around Stan's neck before kissing him. I felt his hands grip my waist, "Anything for you my love."

•

All this excitement caused me to quake at my core. Stan really would do anything for me. My hand began to trace his jaw line before leading down his torso. He bit his lip while his fingers took a firm grip around my neck. "Let's break our new toy in." I said before pulling on his waist band.

•

Stan didn't hesitate as he laid me across the hood of the car. His hands traveled up my gown to caress my breasts. I gasped as he sucked on my neck while his member grew hard in his pants, pressed against my heat. I flinched as his rough fingers teased my clit through my soaked panties.

•

"Fuck yeah." he said before standing up to unbuckle his belt. I quickly slid off my panties, eager for him to enter me. My nipples shown through my thin gown, making his mouth water. Stan's eyes sparkled as I opened my legs revealing myself to him. I began sliding my fingers between my folds with a smirk on my face as I watched him struggle to get his pants off.

•

He bit his tongue before anxiously dropping them to the floor. "I've got to have a taste." Stan said while lifting my legs. He leaned down to my heat, his breath caused me to shiver before he gently licked at my bud. I rested my legs on his shoulders as he held to my thighs. His lips suctioned around my clit while his tongue lightly tapped on my sweet spot.

•

I felt myself getting close just as he pulled away. He laughed as I groaned out in frustration. "No worries pumpkin, you're getting everything you want." My cheeks turned red at those words. Stan once again lifted my legs to push them apart, placing his tip at my entrance. I pulled him in close so we were face to face.

•

We kissed heavily while he slowly entered me, allowing my walls to adjust. I gasped as his pace sped up. His pumps caused the whole car to move with each thrust. "Wait, this won't hurt the car will it?" I whispered in his ear. Stan shook his head, "No baby."

•

And with that I was all for him pounding me on top of our new "toy". I wrapped my legs around his waist for support as his pace quickened. The sweat dripped from his forehead onto mine. I started into his eyes as I felt the familiar pressure build. He held onto my waist with one hand and leaned against the car with the other.

•

"I love you baby." I whimpered before releasing on his length. "Fuck.." Stan said before pulling out and painting my stomach. He smirked, "Oh I love you too babe. Damn." he tried to catch his breath. "Now," he said, "how about we take this baby for a ride?" while lightly smacking the top of the car.

•

•

•

Allllrighty. So it's been like 2 months since I last posted. 😭 I've been in such a writing rut so I'm so so sorry if this is complete trash but I'm trying ugh. I promise I will have bigger and better things coming! Thank you all for love and support of my smut journey. 🩷

[evanboodaddy]

Stanley Bowes

[frankenkyle19]

First time for everything

Stan needs a good fuck, okay? Better yet, He needs to be fucked. Anyways yeah this is just-

Stan bowes x male where he has sex with a man for the first time! word count: 1400

warnings: smut, lots of smut. Blowjob, handjob, fingering, and fucking

Stan didn’t know how he’d gotten himself into this situation. Laid out on a hotel bed, a dark haired man atop him as they furiously made out. It was wrong. He knew it was wrong, but it felt so fucking good. The first few touches nearly had him cumming in his pants, which would have been very very embarrassing. Luckily, he was able to ground himself and focus on kissing back, hands coming to grip at the man’s hair on the nape of his neck, pulling him closer.

And that’s when Stan realized that he was fucked. Totally and utterly fucked. And then another thought arose. Was he about to get fucked? His stomach churned a bit at the thought. The man’s hands trailed down to the tent in Stan’s pants, and when he touched him, every single argument Stan had was blown right out of his mind. That warm, big hand over his cock? It was heavenly in the most sinful way possible. A ragged moan left his lips as the man on top of him kissed his way down Stan’s chest, stopping at the top of his waist, pressing a kiss to just below his belly button.

Stan wriggled. Begged. Cried and whined about how badly he needed to be touched. The man denied. Instead, unbuckling his own pants and throwing them off along with his boxers. Stan felt his eyes widen as he stared at the man’s cock. He wasn’t sure how he felt. It was so much at once.

“C’mon baby, touch it. It won’t bite.” The man laughed softly and gently took one of Stan’s hands, wrapping it around his length. “Just like that darling, touch it how you’d touch yourself.”

Stan was in a state of shock. Disbelief. He was touching another man’s cock. It was so warm. The skin was so soft. He tightened his grip a bit, focusing on trying to pleasure the man above him as he flicked his wrist, fingers dipping into the pre-cum that was oozing from the tip. He pulled his fingers away a bit to examine them, looking at the slick substance that coated them. 

“Put your mouth on it baby” the man urged him

Stan’s eyes were blown wide. Put it in his mouth? Sure he loved to receive blowjobs, but giving one? He wasn’t so sure about that.

He didn’t want to let the man down though, and part of this was him facing his fear. Sleeping with a man. Something he had fantasized about for longer than he could remember.

With shaky hands, Stan gripped the man’s cock by the base, leaning his head forward. He gently dipped his tongue into the slit, letting the liquid coat his tongue. It wasn’t awful really. Just thick and a bit salty, but otherwise fine. He brought his tongue back into his mouth, swallowing hard. God, was he really doing this?

He brought his lips back to the dick in front of him, wrapping his lips around the head and sucking. Like a lollipop. An odd, skin flavored lollipop. 

He was getting a bit discouraged when he heard the sound of a groan coming from the man’s lips above him. That definitely helped to spur him on, his own cock hot and heavy between his thighs as he continued to suck on just the tip of the cock.

“Take more baby, let me see those pretty lips stretched around my cock.” 

Stan, without a sound, began to do as told, his lips stretching as he took the girth farther into his mouth. The instant the tip hit the back of his throat he gagged and lifted off of him as he swallowed hard. Determined now, Stan went back to his actions, going slow and making sure to breathe through his nose. Honestly, he probably wasn’t doing a great job. This was the first dick he had ever sucked, but it seemed to be enough, as soon, the man came into his mouth with no warning, causing Stan to choke. He tried to swallow, he really did, but he ended up leaning over the bed and spitting into a small trash can before wiping his mouth. The taste was… interesting. It was more a texture problem than anything. The liquid was thick, not very enjoyable to swallow, but maybe after time he’d get used to it.

Everything happened so fast after that. All of Stan’s clothes were removed, and the man was two fingers deep in his ass. Stan cried out as the man curled his fingers. God it fucking burned. It hurt. He knew it’d hurt. He’d never even fingered himself before, what else had he expected? 

The man made sure he was decently stretched out, grabbing the bottle of lube and a condom from the nightstand.

Stan closed his eyes tightly, listening but unable to look at what the man was doing. His heart felt like it was beating out of his chest. His eyes shot open as he felt something much bigger than just fingers nudge his hole.

A quiet whine left his lips as he took a deep breath

“I’m ready. Please just- I’m ready, fuck me.” 

“Baby, I’m going to go slow. I’m not gonna hurt you any more than I have to. Deep breaths.” The man pressed a kiss to Stan’s forehead.

Stan’s mouth fell open in a gasp as he felt the thick cock head slip past his tight hole. Just the tip and he already felt so full. Too full.

He craned his neck back into the pillows as he clenched the sheets at his sides, a yelp falling from his lips as the man gently began to push inside more.

He was about halfway in when Stan begged him to stop. To stay there and let him adjust. The man nodded, In the meantime giving some attention to Stan’s neglected cock, which was now almost fully soft from either the nerves or the pain. Most likely both.

The man was slow, gentle as he stroked Stan back to full hardness. When he was ready again, Stan told him to continue. The man began again to push slowly inside him.

Stan fidgeted, obviously impatient. He figured.. Maybe he should just get it over with fast? Like ripping off a bandaid? He carefully hooked his legs around the man’s waist and pushed him hard. The man slipped fully into Stan, which caused Stan to cry out in pain before biting his lip to muffle the sound.

Fuck. Fuck that really fucking hurt, he thought, breathing heavily 

“Fuck- I feel like you just ripped open my asshole-“ Stan panted, relaxing a bit as the sharp stinging began to subside and he was just left with a dull ache.

The man gave Stan all the time he needed, hand gently stroking his cock as he waited. 

When the man began to thrust slowly, it did hurt, but the worst was over, and Stan realized that. And then something happened. Something that nearly gave Stan a heart attack. The man hit a spot inside of him that nearly made him see stars

“Jesus! Jesus- was that supposed to happen- what was that-“ he gasped out, looking down at where the man’s cock was buried deep inside him.

“Do you not know what a prostate is?” The man asked, now being intentful with his thrusts as he angled his hips to hit that spot again, causing Stan to cry out, but this time in pleasure.

It went on like this for a while, Stan getting used to the feeling, breath getting knocked out of him every time his prostate was hit. Soon a warmth made its way through his body. He wasn’t sure what it was at first, until he realized he was close to cumming.

“I’m close- f-fuck faster please-“ he cried out, back arching into the pleasure as his vision got a bit fuzzy at the edges.

The man continued, and once last hit to his prostate and one more stroke to his cock had Stan cumming so hard that he nearly passed out.

Or maybe he did pass out, because the next thing he knew, he was sprawled out on the bed, blinking up at the man, a hazy pleasure and euphoric exhaustion weighing him down.

[keeryhours]

thankful - rafe cameron

Baby daddy! Rafe x Baby mama! Maybank! Reader

Masterlist

Rafe Cameron Masterlist

More Baby daddy! Rafe

Summary:

You, Rafe, and Iris spend Thanksgiving with the Camerons.

Request: “maybe baby daddy rafe and y/n spend thanksgiving together as a fam? With some smut? 🤭”

Warnings:

Smut (18+), p in v, fingering, dirty talk, semi-public sex, Rafe has a slight breeding kink and refers to himself as daddy 🙃

Word Count: 3.8k

A/N:

I seriously get so excited when you guys request things, and this one is so timely! I went back in time for this one, so hopefully that’s okay. I hope you enjoy! I’m so glad you guys are loving this series <3 Requests are still open and if you’ve already sent one, I’ll be getting to it!

Let me know if you want to be on the tag list :)

@sabrina-carpenter-stan-account

—

“You look beautiful.”

That was the first thing Rafe said when you opened the door on Thanksgiving, ready to ride with him to eat dinner with the Camerons. You had dressed in a slightly oversized sage green sweater and a short black skirt with heeled boots. His eyes trailed over your body.

“Thank you,” you blushed. “You look good yourself, Cameron.”

A smile lit up his handsome face. And he did look really nice. Rafe wore a dark gray button up with khaki slacks, the sleeves of his shirt hugging his biceps deliciously.

“Where’s my girl?” he asked. You were honestly surprised that wasn’t the first thing out of his mouth.

“JJ has her,” you explained, thumb pointing over your shoulder. “He’s getting her in the car seat.”

Rafe followed you into the house and into the living room, where JJ was just finishing up tightening the straps of Iris’ seat. “All set, pretty girl,” JJ announced to the baby, ignoring Rafe’s presence.

Iris cooed happily at her uncle. She was days away from turning 6 months old, just beginning to learn to sit up on her own. Her eyes lit up when she caught sight of Rafe, and she squealed.

Rafe grinned widely, practically pushing JJ out of the way as he walked up to the seat and crouched to be eye level with his daughter. “Hi, baby girl,” he greeted her, holding out his hand and letting her wrap her tiny hand around his finger. “You ready for your first Cameron Thanksgiving?”

Iris blew bubbles at him, which he took for a yes as he laughed. Iris was dressed in a brown Thanksgiving-themed dress, white tights on her chubby legs to help keep her warm. She had a matching bow in her light brown hair. Her big blue eyes looked right into her father’s matching ones.

Rafe stood, picking up the infant carrier. “Ready to go?” he asked you, and you nodded in confirmation.

Rafe was already out the door and on the way to his truck. JJ gave you a hug before you followed after him. He was baby talking to Iris as he locked her seat into the base. He turned as you approached, a smile on his face.

“Both my girls look stunning today,” he said as he closed the truck door. “I’m a lucky guy.”

You blushed deeply as you both climbed into your sides of the vehicle - you hadn’t officially been Rafe’s girl in a long time, but he seemed to have no intentions of dropping the nickname.

You felt a little nervous on the drive over. It’s not like you weren’t incredibly familiar with the Camerons, but it also felt like a big deal. This was your first Thanksgiving together as a family (well, kind of), and you felt the pressure of it. Not that Iris would care how things went, she’d never remember it obviously, but you would, and you wanted the evening to go well, for the day to be special.

Rafe pulled into the long driveway of Tannyhill, the gorgeous Cameron estate that you had admired your whole life. You used to be incredibly jealous when you were younger, truthfully. You and JJ had a rough home life with an abusive father, so you both spent much of your childhoods dreaming of something better. Tannyhill made frequent appearances in your fantasies. So did Rafe.

At the time, you felt you could never admit your crush on the eldest Cameron to anyone, especially not your best friend Sarah. Because how lame would that have been for you to admit to crushing on her jerk of a big brother? It’s funny how things worked out in the end. You had dated Rafe secretly for a while, but when it came out (awkwardly, with Sarah walking in on you two in a very compromising position), you realized you had worried for nothing because Sarah actually loved the two of you together. She said you brought out the best in Rafe. For a while, at least.

You smoothed your skirt as you climbed out of the truck, watching Rafe retrieve the car seat from the back. You walked side by side to the house, nerves buzzing in your stomach.

The smell of the house hits you immediately - it smells delicious. Your mouth practically waters as you take in the smell of the different foods waiting in the dining room. You hadn’t realized how hungry you were.

The Cameron family greeted you warmly when the three of you walked into the dining room. Ward and Rose both gave you a big hug, followed by Sarah launching herself into your arms and an attack by a nearly-as-excited Wheezie.

You were nothing compared to the little girl bundled in her seat, though. Rafe watched on with a proud smile as his family crowded around the carrier, baby talking to Iris. Ward is the one who unbuckles her and lifts her from her carrier first, holding her to his chest and looking like the proud grandpa he is while the others crowd around. It leaves you feeling warm inside.

The food was already spread across the large table. A huge selection - a perfect looking turkey, mashed potatoes, macaroni and cheese, green bean casserole, any Thanksgiving food you could dream of was prepared to perfection and displayed on the Cameron’s dining table.

When it was time to eat, you took a seat next to Rafe. Iris had a high chair set up for her, but she spent the meal bouncing from lap to lap. The conversation is comfortable and you find yourself laughing through most of the meal. The food is as delicious as it smelled, and you happily eat as much of it as you can.

After dinner, a football game is turned on the huge TV in the living room. Ward retired with a drink in hand to watch, while Wheezie lounged on the couch and Sarah joined Rose in the kitchen, Iris on her hip.

You stood, about to join the girls in the kitchen, when you felt large hands making themselves at home on your waist, warm breath against your ear.

“Let’s sneak off somewhere,” Rafe whispered in your ear, sending goosebumps across your skin.

“Rafe…” you scolded, turning around to look at him. “We can’t. And we’re literally surrounded by your family-“

“We can,” he interrupted you, hands wandering along your sides, around to grab onto your ass. “C‘mon…”

He grabbed onto your hand and pulled on it, a mischievous smile on his handsome face. You looked around, making sure no one was paying any attention to you. Rafe knew you would give in, but the delight on his face when you move your feet to follow after him is unmatched.

He pulls you down the hall to one of the downstairs bathrooms, quickly pulling you inside and locking the door behind you as you flip on the light switch. You barely have time to take in your surroundings before Rafe’s pressing you up against the door, his lips on yours in a hungry kiss.

Rafe’s hands explored every inch of your body he could reach, tracing over your curves, moaning into your mouth as he grabbed your ass again before sliding his hands beneath the hem of your skirt.

“Rafe…” you breathed out against his lips, head going dizzy already from the way he was already everywhere all over you at once.

“You’re gonna have to be quiet for me, baby,” he mumbled, fingers pushing your panties to the side, rubbing against your already throbbing clit. You gasped, eyes falling shut. “Can you do that?”

“Yes,” you promised him, desperate for him to just keep going. You’d do anything as long as he didn’t stop.

Rafe pushed a finger into your entrance, making your head fall back against the door with a thud as your mouth fell open. He began to pump his finger in and out of your tight heat while you tried to keep your legs from collapsing.

“So tight…” Rafe commented as he added a second finger, readying you to take him. “Been missin’ me?”

“I’ve missed you so much,” you confessed easily, causing Rafe to chuckle as he placed kisses along your jaw. He had you losing your mind on nothing but two of his fingers and a few kisses - you never stood a chance with Rafe.

“I’ve missed you too, baby,” he said lowly, mouth moving to your neck to suck and bite along all the sensitive spots he knows by heart.

He used his palm to rub against your clit as he continued to thrust his fingers into your pussy, curling them deep inside to hit that perfect spot that nearly had you collapsing onto the floor if it wasn’t for Rafe’s strong arm around your waist. You let yourself melt into him as he expertly took you apart.

“Gonna cum on my fingers, baby?” he asked, already knowing the answer from the feeling of your walls clenching around him in the most familiar way.

“‘m so close…” you mumbled, head falling forward onto Rafe’s shoulder. He laughed at how weak you became for him, and how easy it was for him to get you there. He couldn’t get enough.

He thrusted his fingers faster, making sure to press against that perfect spot with every push inside. Your legs trembled, whole body electric as you grabbed onto Rafe for dear life, biting down on his shoulder to stifle your moans as your release rocked through you intensely. Your cunt spasmed around his fingers as he worked you through it, mumbling whispers of “Good girl, that’s it, fall apart for me, cum all over my fingers pretty girl, that’s fuckin’ right…”

Rafe didn’t even care about your teeth digging into his shoulder, like he barely even noticed it. He pulled out of you slowly and you whined, a cocky smirk growing across his face as he brought his fingers to his mouth and sucked them clean with a groan. “Still so sweet, baby.”

“Rafe, I need you,” you begged, legs hardly able to hold your weight as you leaned against the bathroom door. You felt pretty pathetic right now.

“Yeah? You still need my cock even after you just came all over my fingers?” Rafe asked, eyes darkened with lust as he grabbed your waist and roughly positioned you to lean over the countertop. “Greedy little cunt.” He smacked your ass hard, making you jump and stifle a moan with your hand.

You watched in the mirror as Rafe pulled your skirt up around your waist, harshly pulling your panties down your legs and stuffing them in his pocket. His eyes met yours in the mirror, mischievous smirk on his lips.

His hands quickly undid his belt and slacks, pushing both his pants and boxers down just enough to free his throbbing cock. You wanted to turn around and get a good look at it - it had been a minute since you’d seen it, but you could never forget how nice it is - but Rafe had you pinned to the counter.

He gave his already rock hard length a couple quick pumps as his other hand rested on your hip, rubbing circles into the skin. He took the time to take in the view before him - his favorite view. You all bent over for him, pussy soaking wet and spread wide for him to fuck however he pleased. He couldn’t take it anymore.

He lined himself up at your entrance, thick cockhead pressing against you eagerly, precum smeared across his tip. His eyes met yours in the mirror.

“You started that birth control, yeah?” he asked, but he was pretty sure he was about to fuck you raw no matter what your answer was.

“Yeah,” you confirmed, pushing your hips back against him. “Been on it for a few weeks. We’re good.”

Rafe didn’t think he could have stopped himself either way, but he felt relieved as he pushed his hips forward, tip breaching your tight hole. You watched his face in the mirror as he slowly filled you, his face completely contorted in pleasure. His brow was furrowed, mouth hanging open as he let out a low, quiet groan, trying his best to hold onto his restraint and not alert the entire household to what you were up to.

His hands dug into your hips harshly as he bottomed out inside of you. His own thighs were trembling, he couldn’t believe the way your pussy was holding onto him, squeezing his cock perfectly like you were made to take him.

“Good, baby?” He gritted out, looking into your eyes in your reflection. You nodded frantically.

“Yeah, baby, want you to fuck me,” you begged.

Rafe let out another quiet groan at your words - fuck, he felt like you would be the absolute death of him sometimes - but it’s exactly what he wanted to hear as he drags his hips back painfully slowly before snapping back into you.

You smack a hand over your mouth just in time for him to thrust back in, the strangled moan that escaped your lips blessedly muffled by your hand. Rafe chuckled darkly, setting a quick pace as he fucked into your tight cunt from behind.

Your free hand gripped onto the side of the counter for some kind of stability. You felt completely at his mercy, your body utterly weak and held up only by the counter beneath you and Rafe’s rough hold on your hips as he pulled your body back against his ruthless thrusts.

“Fuck, yeah, take it,” Rafe grunted out quietly, unable to keep his dirty mouth from running even when you were very much at risk of getting caught. His eyes fluttered closed as his hips snapped into you at a frantic, near desperate pace.

You felt another orgasm building inside as he fucked you just right, cock hitting that same perfect spot with every movement. Rafe leaned over you, placing kisses all over your shoulders and getting close enough to hear the breathy whines and moans he was pulling from your chest.

“Sound so pretty like that…” he huffed, hands sliding up under your sweater to grab at your tits. He impulsively pulled the sweater over your head, messing your hair up in the process before dropping it to the bathroom floor. “Need to see you,” is all the explanation you get. He unclasped your bra to free your naked chest to his hungry eyes. God, how he loved your tits. Especially since having a baby - they were perfect before, but now they’d nearly doubled in size and Rafe was obsessed.

He watched them bounce as he fucked you, the sight pushing him closer and closer to his own release. He wrapped his hands around them, squeezing and playing with your nipples, making you let out the most delicious whines whenever he’d pinch at them. You wished he had taken his shirt off so you could see his gorgeous chest, the way his ab muscles would flex as he pounded into you, biceps contracting as he pulled your body against his own.

“Feels so good, Rafe,” you moaned quietly, wanting to let him know how good he was making you feel, how good he always was to you. “I love your cock.”

Rafe groaned. “I know you do, baby.” He picked up his pace, thrusting into you even harder as he felt both of your releases approaching rapidly. “I love this perfect pussy, she’s always so good for me…”

Rafe’s hands went back to your hips as he started chasing his release, the power and speed of his thrusts sending shockwaves through your body, and shoving you up against the counter so hard you were sure you’d have bruises all over tomorrow. “‘m close again, baby…” you whined.

Rafe removed his right hand from your hip and wrapped his arm around your body, fingers going right for your swollen clit to rub quick, precise circles. “Cum for me again, baby, please, wanna feel you cum all over my cock, just for daddy, please baby girl-“

The combination of his words and his actions violently shoved you over the edge, your mouth dropping open and eyes rolling back as it crashed through you for the second time, but infinitely more intense. Your pussy clenched around his girth over and over as you chanted his name into your own hand, ecstasy coursing through your body like a drug.

Your body practically dragged Rafe into his own release and he leaned over to bury his face in your neck as he came hard, filling you up with his load as he continued to slowly pump his hips through his orgasm while you pulsed around him. “Jesus baby, holy fuck…” You hear his muffled voice against your skin, feel his shaking body laying on top of you.

You both took a minute to calm down before Rafe was pulling out of you, leaving you feeling much more empty than before. He stepped back and admired his work, fingers collecting his release that had dripped out of you and pushing it back inside, making you tremble.

“Don’t want to waste a drop, baby,” he said with that cocky grin back on his face. You’d both made sure to always use protection any time you hooked up since Iris was born, but at the same time Rafe loved the idea of filling you up, the idea of you potentially giving him another perfect baby.

Rafe tucked himself back into his pants as you tried your best to compose yourself, pulling your clothes back on and trying to make them look like they hadn’t just been on the floor and shoved around your waist. He wiped the sweat from his forehead as he watched you.

“I’m glad you came,” he said. You raised an eyebrow at his reflection in the mirror. “To dinner,” he clarified, an amused glint in his eyes.

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head at him. You fussed with your hair, trying your hardest to not leave this bathroom looking freshly fucked. “How do I always let you pull me into these situations?”

“It’s because you can’t resist me,” he said, hands trailing up and down your sides. He squeezed your hips one last time before he pulled away.

“I’m gonna head back out there so we don’t walk out of here together. You take your time.” He leaned forward and pressed a kiss against your lips, then smacked your ass hard before he slipped out the door.

You sighed to your own reflection. Your hair had been thoroughly ruined, lipstick a little smudged. You did your best to pull yourself back together before you exited the bathroom and rejoined the Camerons, who were all gathered in the living room now, Rafe included, Iris on his lap.

“Where have you two been?” Ward asked, completely oblivious. “You missed half the game,” he directed towards Rafe.

Rafe’s eyes darted to yours, smirk still on his lips as he took a sip of his beer. You were grateful you were saved from having to answer when one of whatever teams were playing scored a touchdown, stealing Ward’s attention away entirely.

You didn’t miss the knowing look Sarah gave you, before she rolled her eyes and shook her head with a laugh. You felt your cheeks heating.

When Rafe brought you home, Iris had already passed out. She slept soundly in her car seat as Rafe drove through the dark island, music playing softly from the truck’s speakers to not disturb her rest.

He reached a hand over and rested it on your thigh. You stared at his hand, unsure what to do, until you dropped your hand atop his and interlinked your fingers together. Rafe smiled, looking more content than you’d seen him for most of his life.

“Seriously, thank you for coming,” he said as he put the truck in park in your driveway. He still held your hand as he turned to look at you. “I know it’s still weird, trying to figure out how to…do things, how to…co-parent. But I’m glad we can get along and be a family without her having to be with one or the other.”

You smiled softly at the sincerity in his words. “I’m glad, too. I had a good time.”

Rafe smirked at you then. “Yeah? You had a good time with me?”

You felt yourself blushing - you had meant the whole event, but admittedly that had been the best part. “Yeah. Tons of fun.”

Rafe laughed as he leaned in and pressed a kiss against your lips. The biggest part of you loved it, still cherished every opportunity to be affectionate with Rafe, to feel any part of him, to be close to him. But a small part of you wished he wouldn’t do things like this anymore because all it did was confuse feelings and make things complicated all over again. You didn’t like the way your heart fluttered in your chest as your ex boyfriend kissed you in the darkness of his truck.

When he pulled away, he looked at you like he could tell what you were thinking about. He looked almost apologetic, although he didn’t regret it. He never regretted the things you did together.

“I’ll see you this weekend,” you told him, knowing it’s Rafe’s weekend with your daughter.

He nodded. “I’ll be here. Do you want me to carry her inside?”

You thought about it. You didn’t want to inconvenience him, but that carrier was heavy as hell now that she had grown so much. “Yeah, that would be good.”

Rafe hopped out of the truck without a complaint, reaching into the backseat to unlock her carrier and lift it from the car seat base. He followed you to the door as you let the three of you inside.

JJ was gone, spending Thanksgiving with the pogues. You had planned to go, too, before Rafe asked you about spending the holiday with his family. You felt a little bad that you didn’t get to spend it with your twin brother, but you knew he understood and probably didn’t even care.

Rafe carefully unbuckled his sleeping daughter from her seat. She snuggled into his chest and he rested his large hand on her back, rocking her gently so she’d stay asleep. You trailed after him as he walked to the nursery and laid her in her crib.

Back in the hallway with Iris’ bedroom door closed, you both stood there awkwardly for a minute.

“JJ probably isn’t coming back tonight,” you blurted out, not even sure why you said it.

But Rafe’s face lit up, eyes shining with mischief. “Yeah? You’re alone for the night?”

You blushed, looking down at your feet to work up the courage for what you say next. “I don’t have to spend it alone.”

Rafe’s smirk only grew as he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into him as you giggled. His lips came down to press against yours again, and you didn’t care about your relationship status, or whether you belonged together, or how much you loved him despite telling yourself you didn’t. All that mattered was that he was here now, and he was yours for the night.

You were thankful for that, at least.

[darlingdaisyfarm]

୨ৎ hot summer night (Ford x fem!reader)

minors DNI

In the sweltering heat of a summer night at the Mystery Shack, you find yourself unable to sleep and stumble into the kitchen for a glass of water. Little did you expect Ford Pines to find you here like this, almost naked. God knows Ford tried. tags: sexual themes, nsfw, smut, kitchen sex, p in v, oral sex, praise kink, dirty talk, loud sex, from sub to dom ford, teasing

You look at the ceiling, the night silence is broken only by the buzzing of an old fan in the corner of the room. It’s unbearable, the heat. Kicking off the thin sheet that was sticking to your legs, you sigh. The twins are probably passed out, you think and prove of that is Stan's snoring could practically be heard through the walls. But you. . . you're damn awake, too hot to even think about sleep.

Screw it.

You slip out of bed, stretching your sore limbs. The old wooden floor creaks under your bare feet as you pad quietly down the stairs in nothing but a bralette with a tiny bow and your panties. Who the hell was going to see you at this hour, anyway?

The kitchen is dark when you step inside, and the thought of cold water is enough to make your mouth water. You take a glass and fill it from the tap, feeling the coolness under your fingers, which is a little relief in this damn heat. You take a sip, sighing, your body relaxing for the first time all night.

Then you hear it.

A shuffle. Someone’s steps.

You freeze, heart pounding. Fuck. You spin around, nearly dropping the glass, only to see him standing there. Ford. Great, just your luck. Stanford Pines, of all people, is here in the middle of the night. And you? Half-naked, barely anything covering you.

You feel your cheeks flush immediately, not just from the heat anymore. "Shit, Ford!" your voice barely above a whisper. "i thought everyone was asleep."

He looks as surprised as you feel, adjusting his glasses, eyes sweeping over you before darting away just as quickly. "I- I couldn’t sleep," he mutters, looking anywhere but at you, his normally calm voice sounded awkward at this moment. "too much on my mind, I guess."

You nod, trying to act casual, but the air between you becomes tense.

Ford fiddles with the rim of his glasses, clearing his throat awkwardly. "I didn't mean to interrupt,” he says, but his gaze just keeps returning to you, despite his obvious efforts to look away. What a beautiful sight in front of him. His eyes flick to the window, to the floor, but you’ve already caught him glancing at you more than once. It’s quick, like he's really ashamed, like the sight of you in just your bralette and panties is something he shouldn’t see, but can’t help but stare at.

His reaction to you isn’t what you expected, he’s usually so composed, so wrapped up in his own world of journals and interdimensional science that it’s like nothing could shake him. But here he is, standing in front of you, and he can’t take his eyes off your body. You stand here awkwardly. Ford clears his throat, his eyes flicker up to your face, but then you catch him, a quick glance downward, right at your bralette, to your nipples.

You shift uncomfortably, tugging the hem of your bralette down instinctively. “I just. . . needed some water,” you’re trying to break the tension

Stanford nods, but you catch him again, his gaze darting lower, this time lingering on the curve of your thighs, your panties hugging your hips. His Adam’s apple twitches as he swallows hard. You watch him adjust his glasses on the bridge of his nose, his hands tremble slightly.

He’s trying not to look, but it’s obvious. He’s failing.

And the worst part? He’s clearly beating himself up over it. “I. . . shouldn’t be here,” he mumbles as his brows furrow, deep lines cutting across his forehead, like he's angry with himself. You don’t say anything, and that only seems to make it worse for him. His eyes fall shut for a moment, and he pinches the bridge of his nose. "I'm- damn it. I shouldn't-“

You know you should say something, anything, to break the tension, but instead, you just stand there, watching him struggle with his own thoughts. His eyes open again, and this time when he looks at you, it’s different. There’s heat in them, something he clearly doesn’t want to feel. His eyes trace the lines of your legs, lingering a little too long on your bare thighs, and then up again to your bralette.

"Ford. . .” you start, but he cuts you off with a deep breath.

"I'm sorry," he mutters, more to himself than to you. "God, what the hell is wrong with me? I shouldn’t-“ he rubs a hand over his face, turning away slightly, like he’s trying to physically stop himself from looking at you. "I’m too old for this. For you."

You turn away from him, feeling the need to focus on something, anything, other than the heat pooling between your legs what makes you unbelievably wet and horny. The sound of water pouring into your glass is the only thing filling the silence now, but you can feel his eyes on you. Even with your back turned, you can feel him watching.

As you stretch up to place the glass back on the shelf, your shirt rides up just a little, exposing more of your lower back and hips. You don’t do it on purpose, but it’s like the air gets hotter, the tension between you two almost suffocating. And now it’s not because of summer. You’re not oblivious. You know he’s still looking.

Behind you, Ford’s breath hitches, and you hear him shift awkwardly. His mind’s at war with itself. He knows he should turn away. No. . . He must walk away, run away. But he doesn’t. Instead, his gaze locks onto the soft curve of your waist, your hips, the way the fabric of your panties hugs your skin. It feels wrong, so fucking wrong, but he can’t help himself. His eyes drift lower, following the delicate lines of your legs.

Stanford feels a stirring deep in his gut, an unwelcome, insistent pressure building. "Shit. . .” he mutters under his breath, barely audible.

Blood runs to his cock, he’s getting hard and he knows he shouldn’t be. Every logical part of him is screaming to stop, to tear his eyes away, but his body and feelings betrays him. He watches as you stretch again, the hem of your bralette lifting, exposing more skin, and feels how his pants are getting tighter.

You catch the faint curse slip from his mouth, and for a moment, you pause, gripping the glass tighter in your hand. You don’t need to turn around to know what’s going on behind you, but there’s something that makes you curious. Part of you wants to tease him, just a little more, but you stay quiet, pretending not to notice.

“Ford, are you okay?”

“Y-yeah, fine.”

“You sure? You seem. . . tense,” you say, dragging the word out just enough to make it obvious you know exactly what’s going on.

He clears his throat, but there’s no hiding the fact that he’s clearly struggling to keep it together. “I’m- I don’t know what’s wrong with me, goddamn it, I’m sorry.”

Your lips curl into a small smile. "You don’t have to be," you say, turning around fully now, your eyes locking with his. "I mean, it's not like I’m exactly dressed for modesty right now."

Ford runs a hand through his hair, clearly at a loss for words. He opens his mouth to say something, but all that comes out is a weak, "You should. . . put on something more."

Your eyes linger on him, the way his chest rising and falling as he’s breathing heavily. You know you should feel awkward, embarrassed even, but you don’t. Instead, you feel something else. You take a step closer, just enough to close the gap between the two of you, and watch as his eyes widen. And then you do it — you slowly lower the strap of your bralette, letting it slip off your shoulder. His gaze follows the movement instantly, like he's mesmerized, completely unable to look away.

Ford’s eyes glued to the skin you’re revealing. He’s biting the inside of his cheek and you can see the conflict all over his face. His body betrays him, his hands twitch at his sides, like he's fighting the urge to reach out, to touch you. He swallows hard, trying desperately to keep control, but it’s so obvious he’s struggling. His pants are unbearably fucking tight now, a bulge straining against the fabric, and it hurts him so bad. 

"Jesus Christ. . . what are you doing? you-you shouldn't-“

You tilt your head slightly, letting your fingers toy with the other strap, but you don’t lower it, yet. “What?” you ask innocently, your tone light, teasing. “does it bother you, Ford?”

He’s quiet again for a second as he tries to force out words. “This- this isn’t right.” 

You take another step closer, almost closing the space between you. His breathing is ragged now, his gaze hungry despite the guilt clouding his features. “I don’t know, Ford,” you murmur. “you don’t look like you want me to stop.”

He groans softly, his body tensing at your words, his dick is going to explode.

Ford’s eyes dart around the room, searching for some kind of escape from the situation. His hands grip the edge of the counter as if it’s the only thing keeping him grounded. “No, we can’t. . . not here-“

You tilt your head, feigning confusion, your lips curling into a mischievous smile. “Not here? oh, then in your room maybe?”

He shakes his head. “Fuck, no, I mean- fuck,” he stammers, trying to find the right words but only fucking up more. “This is- this is insane,” he mutters, almost to himself. “I’m supposed to be- damn it, I’m old enough to know better.”

“Ford,” you say softly, “you don’t have to be so hard on yourself. I mean, it’s just us here. What’s the harm?”

“I shouldn’t be doing this. You- you have no idea how much I want to. . .”

You lean in, your voice dropping to a whisper. “But you do want to, don’t you?”

Ford’s eyes snap open. “Yes, but- but we can’t”

You cut him off, gently pressing your body against his, your breath warm against his ear. “Why not?” you whisper, your lips brushing against his skin. “tell me what’s stopping you.”

He groans, his control slipping even further. “God, this is such a bad idea, im so fucking attracted to you, but this- it’s not right.”

“Isn’t it?” you murmur, your lips grazing his ear as your hand lays on his bulge, slowly and gently caressing it. His cock twitches.

You press closer, your words a siren’s call, tempting him, he swears he’ll just cum right in his pants only from your voice, he doesn’t even wanna think what’ll happen if he’ll fuck you.

“Tell me, Ford. Did you think about how your fingers would feel in me? what you’d do with them?”

He’s fucking surprised, what a fast girl you are, straight to the point. “I- shit,” he hisses. “i imagined them everywhere. Touching you, your, oh my god, your-“

You interrupt him, leaning in closer, your breath warm against his lips. “You don’t have to imagine anymore,” you whisper, your hands sliding down his chest to the waistband of his pants. “i want you to touch me. Everywhere you’ve dreamed about.” you whisper as you smile against his ear, your fingers slipping under the waistband of his pants, brushing against his skin. “You want me to tell you where I want your fingers? i want them. . . right here.” you press your fingers locked with his to the inner of your thigh.

His breath catches and he fucking groans again. “Jesus. this is- this is so fucked up, but I can’t, I can’t stop.”

Slowly you lower yourself to your knees in front of him. His eyes follow every movement. It can’t be happening. “do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?”

You look up at him with a smirk, your fingers teasingly brushing against the bulge in his pants. “I think you know exactly what I’m doing,” you murmur, “now, let me show you just how much I want you.”

You brush your fingers gently over his clothed hardness, feeling the way he twitches under your touch. Ford’s hands tremble, his control slipping away with every touch, every word. He looks down at you, his face a mix of need and regret, his body aching with desire as you take the final step, his cock springs free, already hard and throbbing and you look up at him with a wicked grin. Then you bring your lips to his tip, giving it a light kiss. His fingers grip the counter for support, knuckles white against the wood.

“Fuck,” Stanford mutters, bucking his hips. “Please, just don’t stop. . .” Ford’s eyes roll back, his head falling back against the cabinet as he struggles to keep himself together. He’s lost in the sensations, his entire focus on the way you’re swirling your tongue around his tip. “Mmm-! yeah, yeah. . .”

You take him into your mouth, slowly, your tongue curling around him in a way that makes him gasp. Fuck, he tastes so good and you enjoy the way he shudders and moans above you. His hands find their way to your head, all six fingers tangled in your hair as he tries to hold onto something, anything, to keep from losing himself completely.

“Aghnn, s-such a good girl-“

You hear his praise and take him deeper, your head moving with a rhythm, drawing out every groan and sigh from him. As you suck his cock, you can feel the ache between your thighs growing more intense. The more you please him, the more he moans, the more horny you get, fuck, you’re getting awfully wet from this. And you find your free hand slipping between your legs, pressing against the soaked fabric of your panties.

Ford’s groans fill the room, so desperate as he holds your head and fucks your mouth, but when his eyes flick down and see your hand moving between your legs, something snaps inside him. “Shit,” he mutters through gritted teeth, his hips bucking slightly into your mouth. “I- oh god, baby. . .” Ford’s gaze locks onto you, and his breath hitches at the sight of you rubbing your clit while you continue to take him in your mouth. He can see how you’re trying to satisfy yourself. His hands move to your shoulders, gripping tightly. “I can see how much you need it. I can’t just let you do this alone.”

You pull away, your face flushed and your breaths ragged. You look up at him, all turned on and hot.

“Let me take care of you, babygirl.” last thing you hear him say before he lifts you effortlessly, his hands gripping your thighs as he turns you around and bends you over the counter. You gasp in surprise, your heart racing as the cool surface of the counter presses against your skin. Your panties are pushed aside as he positions himself behind you, his cock, all wet from your saliva, rubs sweetly between your folds.

“Ford-!” you start, but he cuts you off with a slap on your ass.

“You’ve been teasing me all night. Now it’s my turn.”

You shudder at his words, your body arching into his touch. He leans over you, leaving kisses on your neck and groaning in it as his hands trail down your thighs until he reaches the waistband of your panties. His fingers hook under the fabric, pulling them down just enough to expose your dripping cunt, and his hand settles between your thighs, rubbing you slowly.

“Fuck, you’re so wet, sweetie,” he mutters. His fingers begin to work in slow circles on your aching clit, rubbing you.

You moan, pressing your hips back against him, desperate for more. “Ford-! ple-please. . .

He chuckles darkly, his fingers collecting your slick. “Oh, you want more, do you? After everything you did to me, now you’re begging?” his other hand slides up your back, pushing your body further against the counter, making your ass raise up even more as he teases you mercilessly. “You’re going to take what I give you.”

“Fuck- fuck yes!” you gasp, your body trembling under his control. His fingers work faster, the slick sounds of him rubbing you filling the kitchen as the pressure builds inside you. You’re panting, your body reacting to every touch, every stroke, your mind crazy . “I’m ready,” you whine. “I need you, Ford- pleasee!”

He pulls your panties down fully and steps back just enough to take in the sight of you bent over the counter for him, your legs spread, ass up, your skin flushed.

“God, you’re perfect, dollface,” he murmurs, more to himself, his hand running over the curve of your ass before landing a sharp slap that makes you gasp and press back against him.

You feel his hands steadying you as he rubs his length against your soaked pussy. Every inch of him is hard, and you can feel how badly he needs you. “You’re going to take me now,” he whispers against your ear. “all of me.”

Without waiting for an answer, he thrusts his hips forward, sliding into you with a groan. You cry out, the sudden fullness overwhelming, but it’s exactly what you wanted. Your soft walls welcome him as you clench around his throbbing cock.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he grits out, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he pulls you back against him with every thrust. “I’m not gonna last long like this.” 

You can barely respond, the pleasure is so intense that it leaves you breathless. All you can do is moan and gasp his name as he fucks you from behind, holding your waist.

His pace quickens, the sound of your bodies moving together filling the air, so fucking dirty. “Say my name,” Ford demands. 

“Fo-Ford-!” you gasp, barely able to get the word out as he thrusts deeper, his dick feels so good inside you. 

Ford’s body is pressed tightly against yours as he buries himself deep inside you, his hands gripping your hips as if he’s afraid to let go. Each thrust is followed by his groans and your moan. He fucks you so hard, holding your body like he’s trying to make up for lost time, time he spent denying what he wanted. 

“F-fuuuck,” he groans as he can’t believe this is happening. “I’ve thought about this, about fucking you for so long. Needed to fill this little pretty cunt. . .” 

He grips you tighter, pulling you back onto his cock with every thrust, and you feel his fingers dig into your skin. You’re both lost in it, his rhythm hard and fast, but there’s something in the way he moves—like he’s still in disbelief, like he thinks this is going to disappear. 

Ford’s thrusts grow more erratic and you can feel him losing himself in you completely. His breath is hot and jagged against the back of your neck as he pounds into you, the sound of your bodies colliding filling the room, slap after slap. You can hear him muttering under his breath, words slipping out like he can’t control them anymore.

“Fuck, this is unreal. . . so good to be true,” he groans, each thrust deeper, harder than the last. His grip on your hips tightens, not enough to hurt, but enough to remind you of how desperately he needs this, needs you. “Can’t stop- won’t stop.” you moan his name, your body arching to meet him and your eyes roll back.

Stanford’s hand slides to your front, his fingers rubbing roughly against your clit as he fucks you harder, deeper. That drives you mad, his thumb circling your needy clit, the pleasure builds in you fast, almost too fast, and you can barely breathe as he thrusts into your cunt. You’re both a mess, the heat between you making it impossible to think straight. 

Then, through the haze, his voice comes out, rough and desperate. "No, no, baby. . . need to see your face," Ford moans. "Need you to fucking see who’s filling up this tight pussy right now."

Before you can react, he pulls out and spins you around, pressing you against the counter. You barely have time to catch your breath before he grabs your thighs, spreading you wide and slams back into you. The force makes you gasp and his hands are everywhere, fingers gripping your skin, going to your breasts, cupping them, pinching your hard nipples through your bralette like he can’t get enough.

“I need to see your face, sweetie.” he leans closer to you. “need you to see who’s fucking you senseless right now, yeah?” you close your eyes tight being a moaning and whining mess under him. His eyes lock onto yours and he fucks into you much rougher. “Look at me while I fuck you,” he commands. “Look at me and see who’s fucking filling up this sweet cunt right now.” his hips snapping forward again, hitting deep- so deep you swear you can feel him pressing against your cervix. "im gonna fucking lose it, baby, look at me, look at me while I wreck this cunt."

You can barely focus, your vision blurred by the waves of pleasure crashing over you. You’re too breathless to respond, your body trembling from his pace, but you lock eyes with him. Ford’s movements are so rough, each thrust deeper and harder as he drives you both toward the edge. “You’re taking it so well,” he growls. “So fucking tight. Goddamn, such a good girl for me.” as he continues to pound into you. 

“Yes, Ford-!” you gasp. His words, his cock - it’s all too much. “im- im yours. All yours, ahhhn” you swear feel his cock dragging against every inch of you, his thickness stretching you so wide it’s obscene. Your head spins as his filthy words push you even closer to the edge, make you even more wet when you thought it’s impossible. “F-Ford, fuuck, i can’t-!” you whine, but before you can finish, his thumb is rubbing roughly yet so fucking nicely over your clit and you arch into him, your nails digging into his shoulders.

“Fuck, I’m so close,” he warns you as he can’t help but watch your pussy take his cock. “I’m gonna cum inside you, fill you up completely.” the pressure building in your core as he pounds into you, harder, deeper, relentless

Your own pleasure peaks, and you cry out, your body trembling as you cum hard, body convulsing as you finally break, your orgasm crashing over you in waves. You cry out his name, your thighs trembling as he keeps fucking you through it, his hips slamming into yours. You’re shaking in his hands, your little pussy so tight around him, milking him, every drop. Ford follows, his orgasm hitting him as he thrusts into you, filling you completely. 

You barely have time to catch your breath before Ford’s grip tightens and with one final, rough thrust, he buries himself deep inside you, groaning loudly as he spills into you. “Fuckkk, yes,” his voice breaking. “s-such a good girl, huh,” his body trembles against yours, his cock pulsing inside as he empties himself, filling you completely. you gasp again as you feel his cum filling you up and you just stay still, enjoying this feeling as he claims you, burying his seed deep inside your womb.

The intensity of his orgasm leaves him breathless, his body shuddering as he holds you tightly. He stands still against you, his legs trembling, both of you panting heavily, your bodies slick with sweat. “Jesus fucking christ. . .” Ford mumbles, looking at you. “I can’t believe I fucking did that." he looks down, watching as his release drips from between your legs. What a sight.

The room falls into a sudden, heavy silence, save for the sound of your breathing as you both come down from the intense high. Ford’s hands are still gripping your hips, his chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath. His forehead rests against yours. The realization of what just happened slowly starts to settle in.

Your eyes meet, wide and tired. Neither of you speaks for a moment, still shocked what just happened. Ford’s gaze flickers, his chest rising and falling rapidly, his lips parted as though he wants to say something but can’t find the words.

Ford swallows hard, his grip loosening just slightly. “I. . . I can’t believe it,” he murmurs, his voice hoarse. “I didn’t think- damn, I didn’t mean for it to-“ he brushes a stray lock of hair from your forehead. 

The realization of how loud everything had been creeps in: the slamming of bodies, the gasps, the moans. Shit! Your face heats up as the thought clicks in your mind.

“Do you think. . .?” you begin, glancing nervously toward the hallway.

Ford’s eyes widen. He seems to understand what's going on at the same time as you do.

Then, from the hallway outside the kitchen, there’s the unmistakable creak of floorboards, followed by a very familiar voice.

“For the love of god, could you two have picked a quieter fuckin’ spot?”

[evanchantingpeters]

It's giving golden retriever. I'm here for it!

"Spectacular! Gimme 24 [pics] of them right now".

[evanswifeily]

Im just so in love with Evan peters how do I stop this obsession with this man

Honestly I don’t know. I’m literally over foot for him. My family and friends are so pissed off at me for talking about him ALL THE TIME.

Can someone please pay for my therapy?

Maybe a therapy will help with my obsession…

[the-sin-hole]

fuckin' brat

stanxreader, 5.9k words NSFW 18+ it's smut time again baby!!!

fem!reader, vaginal fingering, PIV sex, handcuffs, spanking + choking, multiple orgasms, general brat taming activities, this was supposed to be 2.5k words lord help meeeeeee

+++

A poor night’s sleep. Five tour buses at once. Some kid spilling a giant milkshake in the showroom. One tourist hitting on you. Several other tourists giving you multiple kinds of shit. Another kid spilling an entire half-gallon of lemonade in the gift shop. The twins accidentally breaking the Sascrotch during an impromptu game of “Throw The Dodgeball As Hard As Humanly Possible”. These things are all bearing down on you as the day ends. You’ve never been so happy to watch Stan flip the Open sign to Closed. You were starting to snap at customers in the final hour, something far outside your norm, and you could practically hear Stan’s teeth grinding as the last tourist left the shop.

You’re in his office now, counting out the tills as fast as possible while he nails the underpants back on the Sascrotch. He doesn’t normally let you do this, but today’s an exception considering all the extra closing tasks you’ll have to knock out before he’ll let you call it a day. As you count you hear Mabel, Dipper, Soos, and Wendy all rush out of the gift shop, followed by Stan calling after them, frustrated, asking what’s so important they have to skip out on work. Mabel rambles an answer on her way out and you can hear Stan’s aggravated grunt as the door slams. You sigh. It’s going to take even longer to clean up just the two of you. You neatly organize the tills, tuck the carefully counted profits into a large envelope and slide it into a drawer on your right. You stack the two tills and heave yourself out of his chair, mentally crafting a plan to blow through all the cleaning tasks as quickly as possible. You only make it a couple feet in front of his desk before it all comes crashing down.

When you collide with him it sends it all flying, including the two of you, bouncing against each other and falling back on your asses amongst scattered change and bills.

If you were both being honest, you’re both at fault. You were still looking down at the tills as you walked to the door, and he was focused on straightening a handful of dollar bills from the tip jar as he entered. But neither of you are in the headspace to give grace right now.

“You have GOT to be kidding me,” you exclaim angrily, not specifically at him, but rather to the powers that be.

“It’s not my fault you don’t watch where you’re goin’!” Stan immediately retorts, assuming your exclamation was pointed, and you can feel your irritation bubbling.

“Watch where I’m going? You’ve got eyes too, buddy. Unless those cataracts of yours are as bad as you try to convince the cops they are.”

“Yeah, they’re bad alright, and the only thing worse is your situational awareness.”

“Oh my god,” you groan, standing slowly as he does too. “Just say you’re sorry and we can move on!”

“I should say I’m sorry? Sorry but that ain’t gonna happen when this isn’t my fault. And it also wouldn’t happen even if it was.” He adopts an aggressive stance, one that you match by balling your fists.

“There you go, acting like I’m some sort of prissy bitch, when all I ever do is call you out on your shit!”

“I ain’t acting nothing! You’ve got an attitude, princess.”

Anger flares.

“I told you not to call me that! And I don’t have a fucking attitude! I just don’t bow down to everything you say!”

He steps forward.

“Yeah, and things would be a lot easier around here if you did.”

You stand your ground.

“You’re just a stubborn old man, and you can’t handle a stubborn woman? Embarrassing.”

He steps forward again. He’s only couple feet away now, trying to loom over you.

“The only thing embarrassing here is you throwing a fit!”

More anger flares.

“You started this shit! You know what your problem is? You can’t handle any pushback! As soon as anyone questions you—” you jab a finger into his chest to emphasize your point, tilt your face up to him, and hit him with your best glare, “—you just—”

He grabs your left wrist, yanking your hand away from his chest, cutting you off.

“You know your problem? I know the real reason you’re such a brat. You’re under sexed!”

You blink.

“Excuse me?!”

“You heard me! I ain’t stupid, sweetheart” —the term of endearment, however sarcastically said, sends something through you— “I see the way you look at some of the tourists that run through here.” He unconsciously squeezes your wrist. “I see the way you look at me.”

A shock runs through your spine.

Fuck. You’ve been that obvious?

“Sorry for stealing a glance every now and then, boss. You’re a gross old man, you should be familiar with the practice,” you say with as flippant an expression as you can muster, though you can’t stop the slight heat creeping up your neck.

His eyes dip down to your body quickly before jumping back up to your eyes. He hasn’t let go of your wrist. You’re starting to feel something too close to arousal for your liking… You have to get out of here before you do something extreme.

“That’s it. I quit.” You try to wrench your wrist away but he doesn’t let you. A pulse of warmth throbs within you at his strong grip, and you curse the heat you can feel now rising to your cheeks.

“You don’t get to quit. Cus I’m firing you. In thirty minutes.” His face is serious, but something in his voice sounds… eager?

“Seriously? Thirty more minutes? You that desperate for my help?”

“Once those thirty minutes are up, you can walk outta here scot-free. I’ll even give ya your pay on the spot.”

You’re trying to read his expression. It’s not working- you have no idea what he’s thinking. You don’t really want to quit- you just wanted him to admit he needed you. But maybe after a half hour you’ll both have calmed down enough to renege. Still, you’re not going to back down that easy. Not yet. You’re still riding your wave of frustration, needing the outlet.

“Fine. You get me for thirty more minutes. As long as after that I don’t have to work for your overbearing ass ever again, I’m satisfied.”

His eyes glint. He’s still holding your wrist.

“I don’t think you are satisfied. You got anything you wanna say to me before you’re no longer my employee?”

“No.”

“Anything you wanna do?”

“No,” you repeat, more firmly this time, more to yourself than him, keeping unwavering eye contact. The glint in his eyes sharpens.

“You’re real good at sayin’ no, aren’t you?”

“Better than I am at saying yes.”

“Heh. Cute. We’ll see about that.”

He pulls your arm back, forcing you to step closer to him. His left hand grabs your jaw from underneath, four fingers on one side and a thumb on the other, holding you firm. He slams his lips into yours. The sudden unexpected contact has your nerves alight, your heart jumping in your chest, and an undeniable throb running through you.

He steps forward, pushing you back to his desk, pressing his hips hard against yours and making you hop up on the desk to escape the pressure. He slides between your legs. You try to scooch back to allow more room but the hand on your wrist finally leaves to find the small of your back and pull you back to the edge, against his groin. His lips are aggressive against yours, as if he’s still trying to fight you wordlessly.

You break for air. His hand remains on your jaw. You place your palms behind you on the desk, lean back on them so you can look him in the eye. “You’re just trying to get out of paying me, aren’t you? Hoping I’ll forget?”

He bears down on you. Your chests are nearly pressed together.

“Oh sugar,” he starts before leaning in. You reflexively lean back further but his hand moves from your jaw to the back of your head, grabbing a fistful of hair to hold you in place. He tilts your head to the left, exposing your neck. His lips find your ear and he veritably growls,

“I’ll fuck you so hard you won’t remember your own name.”

A shiver runs through you. You like the sound of that. But you’re not going to make it easy for him.

“I should sue you for sexual harassment, old man.”

He bites your earlobe, the hand on the small of your back running down to grab your hip and squeeze.

“You can tell me to stop aaaaany second now, princess. But I think we both know you’re too desperate to do that.”

“Oh fuck off,” you say, irritation at the demeaning nickname flaring, “If I were desperate I would have taken that cowboy up on his offer to take me for a ride this morning. I’m just here to make sure I get my money,” you lie, in an effort to rile him up even more.

The hand on your hip moves up under your shirt, up to your breast. Despite the throb of arousal that runs through you when he grabs your breast, you continue.

“I’m sure this won’t take too much time… how long can an old man like you last anyway?”

He finds your nipple and pinches, bites your earlobe again. Your back arches.

“Can’t wait for you to find out.”

Before you can retort, he suddenly moves you. His hand moves to your sternum and he presses, guiding you down to lay longways on his desk. He throws his other arm out in one large swipe to get rid of the various papers, pens, and knicknackery on the desk and allow you space. You swing your legs up on the desk and the lamp tumbles to the floor. Fully sprawled on his desk now, he looms over your right side, taking in the look of surprise and fluster on your face with great pleasure. You quickly shake it off, not wanting to give him the satisfaction.

“Let’s get this over with then,” you say, reaching a hand out to his crotch. He intercepts it, then grabs your other wrist, bringing it into his left hand and pinning them to the desk over your head.

“Oh no, it ain’t time yet sugar,” he says, and his right hand trails down to your shorts. He’s already unbuttoning them, unzipping them, and diving beneath your underwear when he says,

“I wanna hear you beg for it.”

You fight the throb that runs through you.

“Tch, you haven’t even done anything yet—”

His finger finds your clit and presses hard. You squirm despite yourself, the touch sending hot flashes of pleasure through your body. He releases the pressure for just a moment before applying it again, just as harsh, just as exhilarating. He repeats the cycle, each time making your body seize.

“Haven’t you ever- nngh- heard of a delicate touch?”

“I can tell you’re one of those who doesn’t like a delicate touch.”

You can’t deny it to yourself- you’re already desperately aroused. But you don’t need to let him know that.

“You don’t know shit about me.”

“You can stop tryna act up” —suddenly his finger leaves your clit, and he thrusts two large fingers inside of your wet pussy— “proof’s right here.”

You gasp when the fingers enter you, arch your back at the sudden penetration. You’re ready for his fingers to work inside you when just as fast as they entered you, they leave, and he’s right back to work on your increasingly sensitive clit.

“Nngh- stop wasting my fucking time, already. I’m getting bored.”

“You got a real smart mouth, you know that?”

“Yeah, and you’re gonna have to work- nngh- way harder than that to shut it up.”

His hand leaves your clit again. He shoves his still-wet fingers into your mouth. He massages your tongue, smirks down at you, enjoying how quickly red spreads across your face.

“I know you’re easier than that, sugar.”

You clench your thighs together, getting more aroused every second. Then his fingers dip too deep, traveling into your throat, making you gag. You strain against the hand holding you by the wrists.

“Heh, didn’t expect you to have a gag reflex. Don’t worry, we’ll take care of that.”

You take the first two thrusts in your throat, horny enough that you almost let yourself fully submit to him. Almost. When he goes in for a third you bite down on the fingers that are now knuckle deep in your throat. Stan removes his hand quickly. You manage to break free of his grasp and you sit up, close to his face. Through your arousal and red hot face you manage to pant out,

“I’m not gonna just lie there and take it.”

You expect to find displeasure on his face. To the contrary, Stan looks pleasantly surprised at your defiance.

“Yeah, you will.”

He grabs the back of your head again and kisses you, this time shoving his tongue inside your mouth. His tongue works against yours in a few large strokes before he moves you yet again. He breaks the kiss and twists your head to the left, other hand forcing your right hip in the same direction, flipping you over, and before you know it he’s pressed your left cheek to the hard wood of the desk and your body is now fully prone in front of him. Holding you down by your neck with his left hand he uses his right to reach under you and grab your groin. With a mighty lift he hoists your hips up so you’re on your knees, ass in the air. With that same hand he yanks your shorts down, your underwear coming down with them, down your thighs, exposing you. Before you can fully comprehend the new position he’s put you in, he smacks your ass. You let out a short “ah!”- both at the stinging contact and the rush of arousal that makes your pussy throb immediately after.

“You gonna apologize for biting, princess?”

You’re stunned by the sudden escalation. You definitely don’t want to apologize. And you definitely do want more of what you just got.

“Not ‘til you apologize for how weak that was-”

He smacks your ass again, a little harder this time, eliciting another short high moan. He doesn’t give you a chance to speak before laying two more on you, each stinging more than the last, the hand on your neck squeezing while he does it. The sting is almost too much, as is the intense yearning in your pussy for any sort of stimulation as a result of it.

“How about now?” Your face is turned away from him, but you can hear the satisfaction in his voice as he asks.

You’re breathing heavy, panting, head swirling with arousal, hands clenched in fists on the desk. He lays another one on you as you don’t respond, and another deep throb of desperation runs through your cunt.

“Aaah— S-sorry”

Another smack. Another throb.

“Sorry who?”

You know what he wants to hear. You’ve refused to call him this since your first day working at the Shack, rolling your eyes whenever he’d urged you to do so. You grit your teeth. “Sorry… sir.”

“Atta girl,” he replies deep and low, and you’re almost embarrassed at the shot of excitement those two words induce.

He runs a hand against your ass, getting dangerously close to your cunt.

“Just a few little spanks and you’re dripping back here, huh?”

“Are you gonna do something about that or just keep wasting my time?”

He lays a gentle tap against your swollen cunt that spurs a sharp groan in your throat. He chuckles.

“I’m gonna keep wasting your time. I’m having too much fun hearin’ you make all those noises. And you can act tough all you want, but I can see you are too.”

He gropes your ass a few times, each grasp teasing your desperate pussy. You can feel your thighs tensing with arousal, and the low hum you ca hear him making in his throat tells you he can too.

“I think I’m gonna need both my hands for this next part though.”

The hand on your neck leaves you, and you actually miss the pressure it had on you.

“Don’t move a muscle, or else. That ass of yours is red enough as it is.”

He walks around behind you, hand trailing from one side of your ass to the other, gently grazing your pussy as it does. He pulls open a drawer, grabs something that clinks in his hand. You identify the sound instantly.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me-” you start to raise up on your palms on the desk so you can turn to him and properly mock what you know is coming. He swiftly walks back around the desk and pushes your upper body back down onto the hardwood, pressing your left cheek back down onto the desk. He takes your wrists and places them in a pair of cold steel handcuffs behind your back.

He smacks your ass again. You moan.

“Told ya not to move, sweetheart.”

“G-great, so you got me handcuffed like I’m in a bad porn. What’s next, you gonna pretend to be the pizza boy?”

He goes back to his spot next to you on the desk. His left hand grabs a fistful of hair. It doesn’t pull, just rests against your scalp so you’re aware that he could so do whenever he wanted. His right hand runs from the underside of your left thigh, up to your ass, before finally letting the tips of his fingers run over your wet cunt.

“Why would I wanna roleplay when I already got you right where I want ya?”

He shoves two fingers inside you again, and you let out a whine at the penetration your pussy was so desperate for. But this time he doesn’t stop, he keeps thrusting his fingers hard and fast, pressing downwards and dragging against your g-spot. You can’t help the long moans it draws out of you.

“You sound like you haven’t been handled like this in years. Too much for ya?” he asks from behind you, and you can hear the smirk in his voice.

“H-hardly. I was j-ust thinking how small they f-feel— aaah!”

He shoves a third inside without hesitation. Your moans get louder.

“If this is how you act with just a few fingers in ya I can’t wait to see how you cry when you get the real deal.”

You can’t even respond to that one. You’re building up to a climax and trying to hold back. You don’t want to give him the satisfaction of making you come so fast. Unfortunately for you, he’s perceptive.

“Speaking of real deal… it sounds like you’re real close.”

His fingers leave you and you immediately miss their presence. You take in a gasp of air to catch your breath when he takes your thighs and pulls, bringing your hips to meet the short edge of the desk, then turns you over. The edge of the desk digs into your sore ass, the handcuffs on your wrists dig into your lower back. The discomfort only bolsters your excitement. He looks down at you, red and sweating through your shirt, with great satisfaction. Now that you’re facing him you can see he’s starting to get red too, heat creeping up his neck. Your eyes find his. He’s looking at you like he wants to devour you.

He pulls your shorts and underwear off your legs the rest of the way, letting them drop to the floor.

He places one hand on your left hip while the other shoves three fingers right back inside you, continuing their relentless pace. You’re still trying to hold back, but it’s no use. After just a few thrusts you feel it about to crash over you. You reflexively turn your head as it mounts.

“Look at me.”

You barely hear him say it.

The hand on your hip raises to your jaw. It grips hard, turns your face up to his. He leans over you so he can better look at your face. That look of hunger in his eyes is inescapable, and it pushes you over the edge.

The orgasm hits you like a tidal wave. Your hips buck, your head reflexively tries to snap up as the pleasure rolls up your spine, but the strong hand on your jaw keeps it in place, keeps your eyes with Stan’s as he drinks up your face in the throes of ecstasy.

You come down. Stan’s fingers don’t stop, only slow, and the continued sensation is almost overwhelming.

Stan chuckles as he sees your face screwed up, desperate over the stimulation.

“I’m not hearin’ a thank you.”

You’re barely holding onto coherent thought.

“Th-thank you.”

“Thank you who?”

“Thank you, asshole”

He picks the speed of his fingers back up and you let out a cry. He chuckles again.

“Still got some fight in ya, huh? I like it. Let’s see how much longer that lasts.”

His fingers leave you again as he straightens up. You let your head loll back, swallow deep breaths at the break from sensory overload. He’s still standing between your legs at the edge of the desk, but you hear him reach a hand back into a drawer. You manage to raise your head enough to see him tear a condom from a roll. You swallow.

“W-wow, how long have those been g-gathering dust in there?”

“Got these about six weeks ago.”

It takes you a second to realize the timing.

“Don’t tell me…”

He chuckles as he unbuttons his pants.

“You were so busy lookin’ at me you didn’t see me returning the favor. Even in the interview. You really gotta work on that subtlety.”

You hear him unzip. You try to raise your head up further to watch him pull it out, heart working overtime to manage the come down from your orgasm in addition to a new wave of arousal at the prospect of him sticking his cock inside you. Stan notices; he reaches up and grabs your jaw again, forcing your head back against the hardwood, unable to look at anything other than the ceiling.

Another bolt of arousal shoots through you, blooming through your spent cunt and making it throb again. Hand still on your jaw, his other hand rolls the condom on. He places the head of his cock at your entrance.

“You think you can take it, princess?”

The demeaning nickname you hate so much makes even more aroused.

“Oh please,” you respond, trying to keep your voice steady despite the intense excitement, “there’s no way it’s that big.”

He enters you slowly. You realize instantly you’re going to swallow your words. You can’t hold back the high moans that escape as his head pushes into you, his girth stretching you far wider than his fingers had just a minute ago. He keeps going, still holding your jaw so you can’t see how much further he has to go. Every second the moans in your throat get higher, more urgent. With every inch that enters you you’re sure that’s it, his hips are going to meet yours, but he keeps pushing in. You start babbling “oh my god” over and over again, completely beyond yourself at the sensation. After another inch you can finally feel his hips about to meet yours. His free hand grabs your left thigh and lifts it, throwing your knee over his shoulder so he can go even deeper, and for a moment you think you might not be able to take it. Finally, he’s to the hilt, and you’re panting like you’re trying to run a marathon in between loose, weak “ohmygod”s.

Stan finally lets go of your jaw and lets his hand trail down to your chest. He pulls your shirt up so he can watch your breasts heave as you pant. His hand continues to trail downward, caressing your torso as it goes. His thumb finds your clit and presses just as hard as he did before, forcing a strangled “ahng!” from your throat. Your hips try to buck, but Stan uses his grip on the thigh thrown over his shoulder to keep you in place, keep you impaled on his cock. He doesn’t thrust, just assaults your clit with friction and pressure to watch you twitch and writhe.

“When was the last time you had dick this good, princess? When was the last time someone hit you this deep?”

You don’t answer at first, still reeling. He presses even harder on your clit and you answer in a desperate whine.

“I d-don’t know! I don’t remember! Probably- nngh- never!”

You look at him, standing at the edge of the desk, balls deep inside you, one large hand gripping your thigh and another working your clit. He’s got a cocky grin on his face as he takes you in. He’s also red, starting to break into a sweat, not quite panting yet but certainly breathing heavily. You’ve fully recovered from your orgasm and the initial shockwave of his large cock, and your arousal is building up in earnest again. He releases your clit. He reaches up, undoes his tie and the first few buttons of his shirt, gold chain and chest hair in full view, and you can’t help but stare. His grin somehow gets more cocky.

“I’ll make sure you remember this.”

He pulls his hips back slowly, pulling more high moans from your throat. He pushes back in, faster this time, and you cry out at the feeling of his girth stretching your cunt, his length hitting you so deeply. Heat flushes to your face as your blood pumps. Again he pauses, watching you pant, letting out small “hah”s as you struggle to adjust.

“I told you I’d have you cryin’ on my cock.”

He pulls back again at a steady pace. After a moan you manage to eke out,

“Just c-cus it’s big d-doesn’t mean you know how to u-use it-”

He slams into you hard, making you cry out again.

“Oh I know how to use it. And I’m gonna use it to fuck the brat right outta you, sweetheart.”

He fucks you fast, watching your body tense and writhe in front of him, watching you strain against the handcuffs under you. His eyes travel up to your face, screwed up again in pleasure and overwhelming sensation, mouth open as it lets out a stream of high moans. He can tell you’re getting close again.

“Look at you, ain’t even been five minutes and you’re drunk on my cock. You’re takin’ it good, too, takin’ the whole thing for me. How’s it feel?”

His talking you through it has you beside yourself because he's right, it's almost embarrassing how close he has you after such a short amount of time, you're just so pent up, not just from the frustrating day, but from the weeks of daydreaming about Stan, wondering what he'd feel like inside you, and now that you're here it's almost too much. Another orgasm is about to shoot through you. Before you completely lose the ability to talk, you stutter out a lie,

“I-it’s fine.”

“You deny it all you want with that mouth of yours but the cunt squeezin’ around my cock says somethin’ different.”

That does it. With a few broken sobs you come, and it’s hot, sharp, rolling through you, making you jerk against him. He holds you down so your bucking hips can’t interfere with his thrusts, the hand on your thigh gripping it hard and pinning it flush against his torso, his other hand pinning your hip. You feel like putty in his grip, mind swirling at the intensity of the orgasm wracking your body. You come down and he slows the tempo, again not stopping entirely, just relenting enough for you to catch your breath. Once he sees you stabilize he reduces his rhythm to painfully slow, gradually pulling all the way out before pushing all the way back in.

“You done bein’ a fuckin’ brat yet? Or am I gonna have to pound it outta you even harder?”

“Nngh- d-don’t give y-yourself a heart attack.” You’re almost slurring your words as you struggle through the response.

He chuckles. You look at him, still thrusting his hips into yours. While the grip on your thigh remains, the hand pinning your hip to the table is now wandering, feeling up your torso, your waist, your breasts. Beads of sweat line his brow and his cheeks are are fully flushed red. The cocky grin is still there but underlined with something more ravenous. The newly slowed thrusts are drawing whines out from your throat, embarrassingly high and desperate sounding, but you can’t help it. He’s keeping you on the edge of overstimulation. Your pussy is sensitive from your climaxes and you’re fighting to recover.

“You need to be careful, sugar. I got you right where I want you. You’re not exactly in a position to fight back, y’know.”

“D-don’t -nngh- need to be. I know you’re about to bust, I’m in the -nngh- home stretch.”

He grabs your breast, gropes it hard. He lets out another chuckle.

“Who says I’m letting you go after I’m done with my first round?”

The threat sends a fresh wave of arousal through you.

“O-oh yeah? And what do you think -nngh- you’re gonna do to me?”

“I’ve been meaning to fuck that smart mouth.” Another wave of arousal. They’re hotter now, feeling like lava pooling in your lower half. He’s keeping the same arduously slow pace, still pulling out entirely with each thrust, and you can hear the slick of your come with each reentry.

His hand wanders up from your breast. It travels up your sternum, brushing past your clavicle before finding your throat. He rests his thumb on one side and lets his fingers fall in line on the other.

“I bet I’d like what you say a lot more with my cock down your throat.”

He squeezes gently, applying light pressure to the arteries under your jaw. You gasp- you immediately feel lightheaded. Your brain was already struggling to maintain coherent thought and is now fogged over, barely able to register any thoughts other than how good his fat cock feels sliding in and out of you.

“There we go,” Stan growls, and your cunt throbs on his cock. “Tell me how it feels.”

“N-not bad.”

He applies a little more pressure. You gasp again.

“G-good.”

“That’s what I thought.”

He watches you closely as more lava-hot arousal builds within you. The feeling of thrust after thrust after thrust emphasized by the fingers around your throat and the restraint of the cuffs and his grip is all starting to drive you insane. Before long you feel burning hot, feverish, an almost primal lust blooming within you. You start weakly trying to get him to increase his speed with your hips, but he doesn’t let you. He keeps his torturously slow pace.

“P-pick it up old man-”

He pulls out entirely and keeps his head at your entrance. You feel so empty when he leaves you, you want his cock back inside you immediately, no, actually, you need it, and you try to push your hips to lead it back to your pussy but he holds you in place.

“You want my cock? I’m gonna need to hear you beg for it.” He fully releases the pressure on your throat, giving you the ability to speak unhindered.

“P-please, I want your cock,” you mumble.

“Didn’t quite hear ya.”

“Please, I want your cock,” you begrudgingly say louder.

“Who’re you talking to?”

You let out a noise halfway between an exasperated sigh and a moan. “Please, I want your cock, sir.”

He nestles the head of your cock between your folds, pushing in just an inch before pulling back. You whine.

“That doesn’t sound like beggin’ to me.”

“Please fuck me, god, I just want you to fuck me sir!”

He slides the first couple inches in but goes no further, looking down at you expectantly.

“Please sir, I’m desperate for your cock, I’ll do anything if you just fuck me again, I’ll shut up, I’ll be good, I’ll—”

He slams his hips into you and you yelp. He doesn’t fuck you as fast this time. Instead he slams into you hard and rolls his hips, mercilessly pounding every inch of your cunt. You’re yowling, babbling ‘thank you’s and ‘oh god’s and arching your back as an unbearable pressure builds in your body, and as he fucks you he’s telling you how good you are for taking his cock, how he knew he could shut that bratty mouth up, how next time you talk back to him he’s gonna bend you over the counter in the gift shop and fuck you however he wants, how pretty you look crying on his cock, and oh god you are crying, the intense stimulation after two strong orgasms making a few tears well up and spill over, and as you get closer your babbling dies in your throat, you’re only able to make small strangled “ah”s, pathetic little noises that make Stan fuck you even harder, and-

-fuck-

you’re coming. It’s sharp, less like a wave and more like a dam breaking. Your body is wracked by powerful throbs making you seize against Stan’s relentless hips, but finally as he watches you struggle on his cock for the second time, he lets himself finish too, giving you a few final pounds before plunging deep and remaining there as he groans.

The two of you come down together. He’s panting heavily, you’re all but whimpering. He takes you in. You’re a sweaty mess blinking tears out of your eyes and gasping for air. He pulls out of you slowly, watches you react one final time to his cock. He lets your thigh slide down off his shoulder. He takes the condom off and pitches it. He reaches back into the drawer.

He grabs you by the shoulders and gently hauls your upper body into a sitting position. You fall forward into his chest, barely able to support yourself after all that exertion. He reaches a hand down behind you and unlocks the cuffs. Your arms fall down and find purchase pressing against the same edge of the desk digging into your thighs. He stands there, letting you pant together as you lean into him, and rubs small circles into your lower back where the cuffs had dug in and made impressions in your skin. You nuzzle against his chest for a minute letting him do so, feeling fuzzy and rubbery in the afterglow. After that minute passes, you lean back and look up at him.

“Well, good news Stan. You’ve convinced me to not quit.”

He chuckles.

“Good. Cus your thirty minutes were just about up.”

You smile, and he looks down at you with a smile far softer than you expected. It sends a different kind of warmth through you. Stan, seeming to become self-conscious of his intimate gaze, clears his throat.

“I’ll keep ya around. But you better stay in line, sweetheart, otherwise I might have to call you into my office to, uh, discuss your performance. I’m big on employee discipline, y’know.”

You smile wider and nuzzle back into his chest as he continues working out the impressions.

“Oh yeah. I’ll be real careful.”