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mand0-l0rian · 3 years ago

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∮ 𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐩 𝐁𝐲 𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐩

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 | Stepdad!Ari Levinson x innocent!reader x Stepdad's Best Friend!Lloyd Hansen

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | AGE GAP, STEPCEST, innocent!/inexperienced!reader, jealousy, possessive behaviour, dilf!Ari Levinson, dilf!Lloyd Hansen. size difference: 6’6” Lloyd & 6’7” Ari. SMUT - minors DNI, “exhibitionism” but it’s more like voyeurism, “lessons,” fingering (f), p*ssy slapping, daddy kink, dirty talk, innocence/ruined kink, corruption kink, degradation, dumbification, size kink, dacryphilia, spitting, oral (f), overstimulation, squirting.

𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | It’s the summer before your freshman college year, and your stepdad’s best friend has been teaching you about pleasure behind your stepdad’s back, or so you think. Based on this ask.

𝗪/𝗖 | 4.19K

𝗔/𝗡 | must resist making this into a filthy series but I have no self control so let's see what you all think first !! reader took a year off before applying to college, and lived with her dad before moving in with her mother and meeting Ari. This was written for my 𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲? 𝐒𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲… 𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲? 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲. All mistakes are my own. [all asks]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 & 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲: @𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲

˗ˏˋ𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭ˎˊ˗ ⋰˚ 𝐂.𝐄. & 𝐂𝐨. 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Grabbing another piece of bread, you quickly stuff your mouth to muffle your moans. You dare to spare a glance at your lap, which was definitely a bad idea.

His fingers are drenched, coated to the knuckle with your slick as he pumps in and out of your core. With your cute summer dress flipped up, and your panties hanging out of his pocket—you fall apart all over again.

Your eyes squeeze shut as your ankles hook around the legs of the chair, hips grinding against his hand. Weakly attempting to hold him still, you teeter over the cusp and tremble, your juices dripping out and trailing down your leg. Lloyd doesn’t stop, in fact, he only gets rougher. Your grip is nothing compared to his hunger to have you make a stupid mess on Ari’s fancy cushioned dining chairs for the second time that evening.

It all started when he dropped his fork and slipped under the table to retrieve it. To your surprise, he found more interest in the shortness of your dress, and being crouched between your legs, he caught a glimpse of your pink cotton panties.

Lloyd couldn’t control himself, he needed to touch you.

Also, today's lesson was on staying quiet and subtle: “college kids will fuck anywhere, you need to learn to keep those pretty lips shut and not be so obvious.”

These lessons started at the beginning of the summer after one night of too much wine. To your stepfather’s best friend, you confessed your sexual inexperience and the itching worry of being unlike the rest of your peers.

He simply brushed over your core, and you choked on a gasp before your lovely stepfather left to refill the pitcher of water. Lloyd took that opportunity to pry your thighs apart and sloppily mouth over your clothed cunt, groaning heavily against you.

The older man sucked on your clit, flicking the bundle with his tongue and soaking the cotton in salvia before tearing off your panties and returning to his seat. That was just in time for Ari to rush back with the full pitcher.

For however long, he’s been working you with his fingers. A numbing combination of teasing and overstimulation tearing you apart like petals from a delicate flower. Your delicate flower.

Surging forward for another piece of bread, you shove it into your mouth. The dull ache in your jaw goes ignored because this was the only way to shut up—Lloyd didn’t give you a break or even a breathier.

The older brunet scoots closer, it’s barely noticeable and it gets him a better angle on your cunt. He tries to slip a third finger alongside the rest, prodding at your already-full hole, but you’re too tight and too small for his thick digits. Lloyd settles for sliding in deep and rubbing your sore clit with his palm, curling his long fingers against that little rough patch inside you with ease.

He slows down as he tells a story of his recent travels, or his recent date—god, you don’t know. You can barely think with his thick digits scissoring you open, tracing up your slit to your clit to rub it in hard circles. He pulls back a few inches, then swings forward with a swift slap on your warmth, making your knee slam into the table.

Your stepfather looks over with wide eyes, “Woah, slow down, honey. You might choke.” He chuckles, refilling your glass of water, “drink something before your mouth dries out.”

You don’t trust yourself to speak, so you just nod.

Lloyd has a sick smirk on his face as he lightly spanks your pussy, it isn’t as hard as the first time but it sends the same shocks through your body.

Ari runs a hand through his long brown hair, “Sweetie, have you told Lloyd about being accepted to your dream college?”

A squeaky reply is all the men get, your stomach tensing all over again as Lloyd teasingly fucks you with his pinky. The cool metal of his ring presses against your heat, and you want nothing more than to rock against his hand, begging him to just force a third finger into you.

“Oh really!” He feigns surprise, his moustache twitching as he grins, “well, aren’t you a smart cookie—soon enough, you’ll be even richer than me.”

Ari smiles brightly, “I’m very proud of her, she’s such a good girl. After her year off and with her mother absent so often, you’d think she’d act up or have an attitude, but no. This little one is an angel, never even curses.”

Lloyd knows that, he also knows that you turn into a flustered mess when you attempt dirty talk. The most he ever got from you was a weak, “want y-your mouth on me—down there please, daddy.”

“Silly girl, you’ve got crumbs on your face, c’mere.”

Your eyes widen when Ari leans over the table, gently pinching your chin to wipe around your lips. A loud thumping fills your head in the same rhythm as your heart, it clouds your senses as fear courses through your veins. One glance over the edge, and Ari would see his best friend knuckle deep in your pussy, slowly working his ring finger alongside his pinky.

With stiff bones, you clench your thighs and trap Lloyd’s hand when he tries to pick up the pace—you knew he had a thing for secrecy and the thrill, but it was like he wanted you to come again right now, to get caught.

After what seemed like hours, Ari finally retreats. When he sits back down, he knocks over a spoon and it loudly clatters to the floor.

“Aw, shit—” Ari huffs and looks around. “I think it went under the table.”

“I’ll get it!” You slap a hand over your mouth, and embarrassment blooms as their clear blue eyes land on you, “sorry, um, I’ll get it for you.”

“It’s okay, I’m not so old that I can’t bend down anymore.” Your stepfather laughs, wiping his hands and pushing out of his chair.

All oxygen is yanked from your lungs as you try to swat away Lloyd’s hand, but he took advantage of your flustered state and pried your thighs open again. Ruthlessly fingering your weepy cunt, stretching you open as you desperately try to cross your legs.

You watch horrified as your stepfather disappears under the table, and your shaky hands clutch your dress, hoping to conceal at least a pinch of your modesty.

Nothing happens.

“A-Ari?”

It’s quiet for a few moments before a breath fans across your wet core. “I still can’t believe you couldn’t hold back from someone this once. Like really, my stepdaughter?”

A warm hand slides up your thigh, forcing your legs further apart, this time wide enough to fit a tall, muscular 6’7” man.

Next to you, Lloyd shrugs. “What can I say? When she said how worried she was about being inexperienced, I had to offer my expertise.”

Realization hits you like ice water, shocking you to the core. You’re limp as they easily manhandle you, making you lean against the back of the chair and slide closer to the edge. You feel like a doll as Ari tugs off your socks, slowly kissing up your calf to your knee, then switching to the other leg for the same treatment. His beard is rough against your skin, tickling you when he trails to your inner thighs.

You almost forgot Lloyd was keeping you plugged up with his skilled fingers.

Ari’s hair falls in front of his forehead as he looks up, licking his lips as if he’s leering at a full course meal, “I guess that means I should finally join too. Need to know what all the fuss is about.” Ari mutters, massaging the flesh inches from your soppy cunt, “What’s this lesson?”

Lloyd resumes his thrusts, disgusting wet noises making it all too obvious how much you were enjoying this—crossing the forbidden bridge, betraying your mother and diving headfirst into something you don’t even know. Tears start to well in your eyes, from pleasure and shame.

“Aw, sweetheart, did you think your stepdaddy didn’t know anything?” Lloyd pouts at you, his hand tracing up and down your slit, from your clit to your creamy hole, “He knows everything. He knows that you rode my thigh, sucked my cock by the pool—oh, and he knows that you want to try anal this summer.”

You’re mortified as Ari chuckles, “I didn’t think you had it in you, baby. Always thought you were my sweet, innocent little girl—now I know you’re just a clueless slut who likes older men.”

The other brunet brings his hand to your face, showing you the strings of arousal webbed between his knuckles. “What a pretty crying face,” He watches the tears trail down your cheeks, and he restrains himself from licking them, “I’m sorry, pumpkin. I had to tell him, that’s what best friends do.” His eyes shine wickedly, “You're his little girl, he has the right to know what I’m doing to his stepdaughter.”

Ari leans close, the tip of his tongue following the traces of your last orgasm until he’s close enough to only smell you, nothing else. “Can you tell me what Lloyd is teaching you today, honey?”

Excitement drips out of you and down your puckered hole, creating a mess under your ass. You’re caught between humiliation and striking anticipation, but most of all, you’re confused—what do you do? What are you supposed to do in this situation?

“I asked you a question, baby. Unless Lloyd already fucked you stupid with just his fingers. Did he stretch your untouched cunt so good that you can’t even speak anymore?”

You helplessly nod, bottom lip wobbling as you slowly grind against the air, “Was s-supposed to keep quiet, not be obvious.”

Ari pins you down again, “Well, you need more practice on that. Almost bent you over the table after watching you come.” He spreads your sticky folds to examine your most sensitive spot. “Bad girl, you aren’t supposed to like this. Aren’t virgins supposed to be pure, not lifting their dresses for men twice their age.”

Lloyd laughs, “your little girl isn’t a virgin anymore, daddy.”

Your stepfather stiffens, head snapping up to shoot daggers to his friend’s face. “You fucked her?”

“Not me, some guy she met when she went to New York.”

Ari’s glare lands on you, and you can feel it in your soul. The burning sensation of his dark, heated blue eyes sears through your skin, and erupts an uncontrollable blaze of humiliation and guilt.

“Oops, did I forget to mention that?” Lloyd hums thoughtfully, the ghost of a mischievous smirk on his lips. “My bad, it must’ve slipped my mind.”

“Yeah, I bet it did.” Your stepfather’s tone is sharper than a knife.

The beginnings of an apology are on the tip of your tongue—but Lloyd shoves his fingers in your mouth, making you gag and taste yourself. A pitiful whimper floats into the open air, fluttering to the same spot your “I’m sorry, Ari” would have.

“She’s so cute when she wants to come, or when it’s too much. You should really hear her beg.” Lloyd reminisces of you moaning into his ear the other day when you were bouncing on his thigh in the gym. After watching him work out, he said you deserved another lesson for keeping quiet to your stepfather.

Looking back, you felt proud of yourself, but now you feel tricked. Ari knew the whole time and you were the fool. And, he just got struck with the revelation that you aren’t a virgin.

There was no telling what would come next.

“Too bad she failed today’s lesson. I used to hook up with girls all over campus during my days. In the library, washroom, closets, even hallways if we couldn’t find somewhere.”

“I know, one of them was my ex.”

“Pfft, she was a four at best.” Lloyd turns his attention to you, dipping his hand back between your legs, now soaked with your spit, “But this pumpkin, she’ll be a real hit.” He smirks, “ain’t that right? You’ll show all the guys what we’re going to teach you?”

You cry out when he swats your cunt, wet slaps fill the dining room as he repeats the action again and again. A burn emits after each spank on your poor clit, right in place of his fingers. The moment he stops, Ari takes his place, spitting on your petals and giving you his fair share of slaps, harder and rougher. A clear form of punishment.

“She’s fuckin’ soaked,” He marvels at the cream and his mouth waters, “You like getting your pussy slapped, honey? Since you like it so much, maybe I should stop. Rightfully punish you for letting some guy pop your cherry without my permission.” He hisses, nostrils flaring, “Lloyd told me you’ve squirted from this, soaked your bed sheets while I was sleeping next door.”

The moustached man sucks his fingers, cleaning your juices with desire. “I guess you should thank me, Ari. Since all of a sudden, you grew a pair of balls.”

The implication was true yet you had no clue about it. How much Ari has wanted you, longed for your body under his—for you to be his. So, he did what any other person in his position would have done, his utterly sinful and taboo situation. He forced himself to keep a distance from his young and beautiful stepdaughter because this was wrong, but it felt so right.

Ari laughs humourlessly, easily pushing your chair back so he can pop up from under the table. Now, on his knees between your legs, inhaling your intoxicating scent as his friend spreads your weepy petals, exposing your most sensitive spot to your stepdad.

“Think I can slide in there too?”

Lloyd snorts, “You can try, but this little thing could barely take two of mine.”

“What do you say, baby? Are you going to let your stepdad stretch your pussy too?” His lashes brush his cheekbones with every slow blink, the underlying hint of anger still present.

You offer nothing but a shaky yes, desperate to make it up to him, to be his good girl like you’ve always been since you met him. It was only a year ago, but moving from your father’s house to Ari’s mansion was a dramatic change. Not only did you have an immediate crush on him, but you were welcomed into a world of riches, luxurious yachts and vacations.

Your attachment to Ari grew quickly. From your workaholic father, to your absent mother, you never had anyone to rely on. While your mother was on business trips or spending her new husband’s money, your pure, sheltered little heart leapt at the chance of having someone to trust.

He has always been so kind to you, a true gentleman when it came to treating you with honour and respect, he was also who you went to for advice. All advice except sexually—although, he did know about your first kiss.

He’s been aware of your lessons with his best friend, even encouraged them perhaps, but he’s upset about your New York trip.

You suddenly wish he was the one to take your virginity instead of that blue-eyed, blond boxer, regardless of how handsome and charming he was. You wanted Ari, you wanted him so badly.

Your wide gaze follows his thick and long digits circle your hole and collect your juices before slipping in. He’s bigger than Lloyd and feels entirely different. As he reaches deeper, he stretches you wider, and your arousal gushes out around him.

He’s nearly drooling at the sight of you struggling to take only two, “Prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen, baby. You’ve been keeping it from me—you gave it to someone else, and that isn’t very nice.” His thumb lands on your clit, rubbing hard on the sensitive nub.

You moan loudly, and your hands scramble, your touch is placed on something and that something happens to be Lloyd’s hard cock. He’s as warm and heavy in your hand as the first time, that familiarity makes your stomach tighten and your walls clench around Ari.

“Remember what I told you, baby?” Lloyd’s hand dwarfs yours as he secures your fist and slowly moves you up and down his length. He uses your slick from his fingers to make the slide easier. “C’mon, use that dumb little brain for daddy.”

A series of needy whimpers flow above when Ari scissors his fingers. His bicep flexes when he pumps into you, twisting and curling his digits as you try to remember what Lloyd told you during one of your first lessons: how to pleasure a man.

“Poor girl, she isn’t going to last much longer.” Ari spits again, growling as it dribbles down your swollen clit to his other digit prodding at your hole, “You aren’t coming until I’ve got three fingers in you.”

The mere thought of taking three and being that full makes you mewl. Tears flow freely as his ring finger shoves in, joining his two other sturdy ones. He presses to his hilt and out again, coating them in your slick with every thrust. Your pussy weeps a stupid mess between your trembling thighs and you latch onto his head, stabilizing yourself with a pathetic cry, either begging for a break or pleading for more.

Your fist tightens and Lloyd throws back his head, neck tensing as he hisses your name, “that’s it, good girl. Slowly, don’t want to waste my come, yeah? My baby wants it on her little cunt, wants to feel my seed on her not-virgin pussy.”

Ari lets out a disgruntled noise, his actions getting rougher and the squelching noises get louder.

Lloyd kisses you, tongue slipping into your slack mouth. Salvia is exchanged between your muffled whines and you struggle to keep up, but with Ari between your legs, you can’t think straight.

The tingles flutter all over your body, strumming you just right. Pure pleasure takes over your senses, hyper-focusing on the two men that have the strength to shatter you like fine china. You feel so small and powerless next to him, and with one of them devouring your cunt.

His tongue swipes along your fold, flat and wide, gathering your cream before he spits it back onto you. Making you even messier and wetter for his fat fingers. Your toes curl in euphoria, and you’re entranced by the feeling of every ridge and his warm exhales combined with the slight brush of his facial hair.

When he pulls back, it’s as if he’s a completely different man. Dark, ferocious and hungry with a beastly glimmer in his eyes. Even on his knees, he still feels bigger than you.

“Fuck you, Lloyd—greedy bastard.” Ari dives forward, shoving his face into your pussy. His fingers spear you open as he drinks down your slick, his nose rubbing against your clit with every hard stroke of his tongue.

Every thought, every responsibility is torn from your head and replaced with these two men.

Ari has yanked down the front of your dress, massaging your breasts and pinching your nipples as he devours you. Drawing out your choked moans like he was being paid for it. He releases you with a pop, trailing his lips to kiss your thighs to sweep up any rogue arousal.

His cheek is pressed to your thigh, his blue eyes flickering between you making out with his friend and your hole as it cries around his fingers, adding to the mess on your chair.

“D-Daddy, my—my thing please.” You beg, salvia covering your chin.

He kisses your inner thighs, two fingers in your pussy, “What was that?”

Lloyd reaches down, spanking your puffy clit before forcing two more digits next to Ari’s. With a loud gasp, your hips raise at the sudden stretch. A dull pain blooms from your core, bleeding into every part of your body as your cunt tries to adjust.

You squeal between clenched teeth, thighs threatening to shut before your stepfather pins them open, hooking your knees over his shoulders. “Poor little cunt—she’s stretched to the brim, makes me wonder how my cock is gonna fit. Guess I’ll just force it in, huh, baby?”

“Yes, yes, yes—please. Want it, want you.” You blubber.

“Don’t you wish you had me pop your cherry with my big cock? I would have made you feel so good for your first time, worked you open just like this until you were ready. Then, I would have taken you nice and slow, fucked your untouched pussy, make you come as many times as you wanted.” His voice is low, almost a rumble in his chest, “but no, my little girl had to be a stupid slut and get fucked by some other guy—you shouldn’t even get to come for the whole fucking summer.”

“Now, isn’t that a bit excessive?”

“No. If anything, it’s not enough.” Ari growls, “That purity—that honour was supposed to be mine.”

You’re a twitching mess as they work you open, broken cries shake your chest as tears drip down your chin. Your eyes are shut tightly as you blindly reach for Ari’s hair, fisting the strands, you yank him closer to your core.

You hadn’t even noticed you released Lloyd’s length until he grabs your hand, entwining your fingers and holding you still.

He curls his digits, massaging your spot, “Oh, I think she wants you to suck on her clit.”

“Is that right, baby? You want your stepdaddy to suck your button? You think you deserve it for being a whore?” He asks. His resolve grows weaker as you moan his name between pleads, feebly trying to pull him to your cunt.

“Fine, but you’re going to squirt for me.” He captures your clit in his mouth, sucking delicately at first. His blue eyes captive yours as he hums against you, the vibrations make you clench around their fingers, sucking them greedily.

Your stepfather presses closer, massaging your bundle with his tongue between suckles as they get harsher and hungrier, his rough facial hair digging deep into your puffy folds.

It’s a wonder how you lasted this long, between their filthy words and their skilled hands, and now Ari’s warm mouth—you can’t take it anymore.

Your salty tears seep on your taste buds as your jaw falls open, and a silent scream escapes your tense throat. You convulse roughly, and your hips have a mind of their own as they move against Ari’s face and the men’s fingers.

“Keep her filled up,” Ari demands, he has to hold you down while Lloyd leans forward, breathing heavily.

As Ari’s fingers slip out, their absence is quickly filled with two of Lloyd’s, your wetness drips down his wrist and on his fancy watch, but he couldn’t care less.

Your stepfather spits on his hand, then pushes down on your stomach, and roughly rubs and spanks your cunt in quick succession. He continues to brutally strum your swollen nub with his fingers as your juices squirt everywhere.

They watch as you reach your high, flailing around like a fish out of water and grabbing onto any part of them you can reach. You cling to Lloyd’s wrist and Ari’s hair, trapping him inches from your pussy.

A good portion of your orgasm lands on Ari’s face, evident on his cheeks, thick beard, and ironed flannel. Their touches leave a few moments later, and you break down in tears as you finally take a breath, shuddering with oversensitivity as even the slightest wisp of air on your core feels like fire.

Your stepfather is the first to speak, his pink tongue eagerly sweeping any trace of you from his lips. He wants to smother his face in your pussy. “Let me just have one more taste.” Ari leans forward, he gets one lick before you’re shoving him away, sobbing as his facial hair brushes your sensitive folds.

“Sorry, baby. Daddy’s sorry.” He apologies, but if you could see him now, you’d notice the smugness written all over his face. “Forgot you’re still so inexperienced and not used to all this stimulation.” He pulls back with a lingering kiss on your button, revelling in your pathetic pleas.

“Shh, you’re okay, pumpkin.” Lloyd caresses your cheek, kissing all over your sweaty face—he growls at the bitterness of your tears. “Gotta be gentle or else we’ll ruin you.”

“Yes, p-please be n-nice.” You hiccup, still twitching in the chair. You fear you bit off more than you can chew. “Don’t… ruin, please.” An ache blooms from your awkward position, but the burning from between your thighs easily overpowers that.

Ari and Lloyd laugh as if you told the funniest joke in the world.

“Oh, it’s too late for that, dumb baby.” Lloyd chuckles with a sinister smile.

Ari makes a sound of approval, wiping your juices from his beard with a napkin, “You, little lady, won’t be the same after the summer.”

He couldn’t have been more right.

𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: oh the filthy potential… the whole summer learning from these two dilfs 😵‍💫😵‍💫 I just know Ari has some other friends too, oh can’t forget about your professors next year 🫠 or that blond boxer in New York...

𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞! This was written for my 𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲? 𝐒𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲… 𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲? 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲

As always, I hope you all enjoyed this and I’d love to hear your thoughts/feedback !! <3

☼ 𝐃𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐊𝐨-𝐟𝐢 ☼

I don’t do taglists anymore. ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 & 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲: @𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲

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mand0-l0rian · 3 years ago

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I SECOND THIS 0-0

do you have annons because you make me extremely horny and have me drooling over Chris Evans.

-🌹 (I hope this isn’t taken if you do take annons)

hehe I do have anons !! You can check here for the list of taken names, but 🌹 is now yours !!

#thank you for your service

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mand0-l0rian · 3 years ago

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*heart eyes*

tessa thompson as valkyrie…

gotta be one of my favourite genders

#dying #she's so majestic #and powerful #kick me in the face

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mand0-l0rian · 3 years ago

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I’m not getting any whole constellations, it’s just little pieces and fragments. This is gonna take forever.

MOON KNIGHT S01E03 | The Friendly Type

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mand0-l0rian · 3 years ago

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MOON KNIGHT + Steven answering himself

# a steven will make a rhetorical statement and be like “is anyone gonna respond to that” and not wait for an answer

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mand0-l0rian · 3 years ago

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Cute little fluff

The Plushie of Taweret

Summary: You meet Steven when a certain plushie catches your eye at the museum’s gift shop.

Pairing: Steven Grant x Reader

Warnings: None

A/N: Steven is the cutest nerd ever ;-; I really want a Taweret plushie omg

Word Count: ~700

————————–

Keep reading

#fluffy steven grant

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mand0-l0rian · 3 years ago

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MOON KNIGHT + Steven answering himself

# a steven will make a rhetorical statement and be like “is anyone gonna respond to that” and not wait for an answer

5K notes · View notes

mand0-l0rian · 3 years ago

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each time you fall in love

pairing: marc spector x f!reader, steven grant x f!reader, jake lockley x f!reader

tags: 18+ graphic smut, p in v, rough sex, car sex, public-ish sex, unprotected sex, sir kink, dirty talk, thigh-riding, fingering and oral sex, edging, mentions of guns, mentions of blood and wounds, drinking, swearing, established relationship, angst if u squint really hard, 8.4k word count…

summary: you play mercenaries with marc. you play lovers with jake. you play house with steven. you suppose romance comes in all forms of their differing love for you.

note: had a blast writing this, reblogs & shares are more than appreciated :) listened to this song while writing this, so feel free to listen while reading!

- masterlist - mk playlist

June - Mardin, Turkey

“Ow.”

“Sorry, I’m trying to be gentle.” Marc quickly glances at you, sweat beading off of the tiny curl that falls flat against the ridge of his brow.

The stinging accumulation of dust and filth in your eyes only adds to the discomfort of your entire aching body — but by all means, you have to admit that the bullet graze to your arm takes the absolute cake.

It’s dark out and the sleepless nights of Mardin are completely unforgiving. The gas lamp above you has been your only light source in the shabby, stone shack for almost a week. Water is starting to run thin, the main city is too far out for this time of night, and Marc isn’t in any condition to make rash decisions.

You wince when he tries to carefully smooth out the gauze around your upper arm. “Still heavy-handed, are we?” You don’t miss how the corners of his mouth shift upwards in a faint smile at the pathetic jab, uncertain if this was a time for laughter rather than reflection.

But even as you try to lighten his grim mood, Marc is distant. Distant because he fucked that job up. Distant because you got caught in the crosshairs of what should’ve been his successful plan, but he ended up failing. If he lost you, what would he have left? An empty shelter, and the hauntings of your flesh against his?

What would Steven think?

Marc helps you sit up from the wooden table cluttered with bandages and tissues of dark blood, careful that you don’t reopen the wound that he so poorly stitched with the sparse medical supplies and whatever knowledge he had retained from his time in Guam. “A couple inches higher and to the right… that bullet would’ve lodged itself in muscle.”

His calloused palms brush over the sides of your neck and wander down to hold your waist.

The notion is enough to make you forget the pain shooting up your bicep and recognize the warm ache of desire deep within your belly when you lock eyes.

It’s fucked up. But that’s just how it is between you and Marc.

And that’s how it’ll always be.

He gazes at you with a sigh before he pulls away, wiping your blood off of his hands with a dirty towel by a collection of empty beer bottles. You bite your lip at his silence, shoulders tense and jaw tight as thoughts of what-if’s race through his mind.

“Marc.” He shakes his head, fingers coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose before you realize he’s trembling. “Marc, hey. Come on. Come here.” A blend of a meek grunt and an exhale of relief escapes from his lips before he leans over and presses his face into the crook of your neck, nearly launching himself into your open arms.

Marc smells of cordite and hours of being in the sun. Normally, his scent would have comforted you — musk and eucalyptus, remnants of the melting candle by the kitchen window in Steven’s lived-in flat — but nothing about these circumstances are supposed to be comforting. Nothing about being paid to kill, living the ‘gun for hire’ life is supposed to give you solace. For now, you suppose that his lips on your skin is enough to mend this harsh reality of bloodshed that you’ve been fated to endure together.

He whispers quietly against your jaw. “I’m sorry.”

“Hey, no. Don’t do that. I’m alive. It’s just a surface wound, baby.” You hold him by the face, stroking your thumbs under his eyes as he blinks at you, timid and apologetic. “You did the best you could. Plans always end up sideways with us, you know that.” You rub noses tenderly. “We’ve had worse situations, remember?”

“South Africa contract?”

“Honestly, I was thinking more like Malaysia, but that too.” You chuckle softly at him, repeatedly tucking his stubborn curls behind his ear as he stares at you. You delicately splay a hand over his cheek, rubbing the blood off his skin with your thumb. “Are we okay?”

Marc inhales deeply after what feels like ages, nodding as the words of affection leave him woefully. “I just really love you.”

“And I love you, you silly man.”

He doesn’t need to say that he’s scared of losing you for you to understand. You can just read him, feel his anxiety seeping into his bones as his fingers dance over your bandages and underneath your weathered shirt. You can read him even with closed eyes, him who stands between your legs, trailing your knuckles against his biceps as if every goosebump on his body would mimic paragraphs of braille, his unspoken declaration of how much he wants you just beneath your touch — how much he longs to bury himself inside you and stay there until the world leaves the lot of you alone before everything burns.

Let it all burn if that means being with you.

You’re already wet by the time Marc is pulling your muddied cargo pants down your legs. He’s rushing this — needy and exaggerating his impatience as if that would quicken things.

You know him well enough to recognize that tonight, he won’t be gentle even if he tries.

Usually Steven is rougher, which comes as a surprise when his personality is the definition of a sunny London day. Submissive doesn’t always equate to being soft, but his temper is warranted. You’d think that Marc would be the one to break your body and push you to your limits, but he has other ways of taking out his anger — Steven doesn’t.

You’ll take a rough Steven over a rough Marc anyday.

Splinters dig against the backs of your thighs as Marc drags you to the edge of the table, drawing a gasp out of you when he harshly yanks your panties down your thighs.

“Easy, tiger.” You look up at him as he pushes your hair away from your face, eyes wandering over how he then expertly unbuckles his belt with steady fingers. He doesn’t break your lustful gaze, lips parting once his pants hang low on his hips and he meets your mouth with his own.

“I’ve been wanting to do this for days, Y/N.” He sighs into you, a string of saliva connecting his wet bottom lip to yours as he cradles your cheek. “And of course, you just had to get fucking shot on the night I wanna be inside you.” You groan shamefully at the violence of his words, placing a hand on the nape of his neck to draw him closer to you. His kisses are far from chaste and borderline unceremonious, teeth clashing against yours as his nose digs into your cheek for better access. “I don’t wanna hurt you…” He trails his tongue down your neck, mouthing at your skin until he’s marked you purple and red. “… but I know that you can take whatever I give you. No matter how much it hurts, right?”

“Mmm, fuck.” You shiver when he nips at your earlobe, tugging on the fleshy texture as he awaits your response. “No matter how much it hurts.”

“Atta girl.” He hums agreeably, taking pleasure in how your mouth tries to chase after him when he steps back to take his shirt off and admire your parted legs. “Look at this pretty, aching cunt.” He chuckles mockingly, tracing the outline of your folds with his fingers. “Hm, looks so tight for me, sweetheart.” You whimper when he gently runs the back of his hand against your folds, the friction of his knuckles just pleasurable enough to make you rut your hips in anguish. “You think we can make my cock fit?”

“S’big. You know it is.” You whisper, tightening your hold on his shoulders. “I think you’d have to — to play with me a little, Marc.”

“Oh, play with you?” You nod. “You mean like… Marc, finger me?” You shift eagerly to nod again, but your actions are cut off when he abruptly scissors his middle and ring finger inside you. “Marc, fuck your hand into me, fuck me until I’m all loose for you? What, Y/N? Just so you can say… Marc, I can’t take it anymore?” You yelp loudly when he grabs your ass, his other hand lazily pumping in and out of you as he collects your slick onto his digits. “How’s this for playing with you?”

“M-Marc… oh, fuck…” You grab onto his wrist, nails digging into his bone as he fingers you faster and deeper. “Wait, please.”

“Oh, honey, I’ve barely touched you and yet you’re drippin’ all over me.” He purrs, craning his head to study you, reading your features for any sign of discomfort. Yet, all he sees is a woman enjoying herself too much. Helpless, you cling to him, back arching as your face finds comfort against his solid chest. You sob, screwing your eyes shut as his fingers pause unforgivably inside your sopping cunt and his thumb draws light circles on your clit. “Who makes you this wet, Y/N?”

“You.”

“Almost right.” He grins through a deep laugh, gently shrugging your head off of his shoulder so that you’re left with no choice but to meet his dominant gaze. Your lip wobbles as you fight the urge to clench around him for some kind of satisfaction. Heat flares up your entire body. Every little bit of movement leaves you wanting more. “Don’t pout. You’re better than that. Come on, sweetheart. Say my name, no one else. Who?”

“You do, sir.”

“See? Not so hard.” You bite back a frustrated groan when his fingers leave you so sudden, the building sensation of an orgasm disappearing as your cunt squeezes around nothingness. “You think you’re ready for me?” Fuck. You rub your thighs together, mourning your ruined high and mewling when his palm finds your cheek with a damp finger prodding against your lips. “Use your words, baby. Look at me when you speak.”

“Want you now.” Your head tilts back when his thumb slips between your lips, muffling your whines. Transfixed, Marc watches your pupils dilate when he drags the digit against your hot tongue. It’s erotic. It’s primal, especially when the gash across your cheekbone starts to trickle with blood again from how much your face is straining. And once more, it’s fucked up. So fucked up, that Marc finds himself turned on at how you can make bruises from being slapped by a gun appear so incredibly sensual. “Need you so fucking bad.”

Marc pulls you in for another kiss, mumbling declarations of desire against your lips as you palm him through his underwear and free his cock from his garments. He grunts against your mouth when you twist your fist around the dark tip of his shaft, harmoniously watching in awe together as he thrusts himself into your hand.

“Been dying to… ugh, fuck…”

A soft giggle escapes you, brushing his curls away from his eyes with your free hand after he suckles a large hickey on your collarbone. “Been dying to fuck?”

He glares at you, unamused.

“Funny.”

“Just repeating what you said— ah!” You’re abruptly cut off by the feeling of Marc’s erection against your folds, his cock rubbing over the swollen button of your clit before his leaking head finds your entrance. He repeats the motion until his skin is glistening with your slick. “M-Marc!”

“Marc.” He mimics you teasingly, chuckling deeply when you shoot him a dirty look. “Christ, I’ve just been dying to be inside you. Is that what you wanted to hear, Y/N?” Your nails dig into his shoulder blades as he slowly penetrates you, stretching you out after days of abstinence in sake of your mission. “How badly I’ve wanted to fuck my perfect girl? You see, I wanted to wait till we got home. Make love to you slow and sweet on our bed…” He forces himself to stop once your cunt swallows him all the way to the base of his shaft. You can just feel him pulsing even as your walls flutter tightly around him. “… give it to you so damn good and treat you like the sweetheart you are…”

“Please move. Please. I can’t — I need you, please.”

“But you’ve been makin’ some real questionable choices, Y/N.” You lurch forwards into his chest, so desperate to be fucked by him that you can’t help but sob in frustration and strike your palms against his sweaty skin. “Must need someone to teach you how to follow directions, huh?”

“Marc, please! Just make me… I wanna feel good. I want you to make me feel good.” You whine. The fire in your belly grows as he plants a long kiss to your forehead, your defeated voice accompanying the needy furrow of your brows. “Please.”

“I know, baby. I know. But it just doesn’t make sense to me,” He licks the pads of his fingers, spreading his saliva across his digits before you feel him toying with your clit. An embarrassing cry rips from your throat when he touches you, his cock still hard yet motionless inside you. “Why should I make you feel good when you put me through absolute hell today?”

“Are you… are you seriously bringing this up right now?”

“You’re the one who jumped in front of a gun.”

“Because I was trying to save your life!”

“Which could’ve gotten you killed, you stupid girl.”

The name goes straight to your cunt. And although his tone is far from one with serious intent, the slight twinge of irritation in his ending inflection has you desperately trying to close your legs together in embarrassment as you helplessly cream around him.

The two of you share a look — you, like an animal that had been caught in a trap and him, like a hunter who had finally gotten his hands on his game.

“Marc…”

“Oh, you fuckin’ liked that.”

Your face burns hot with humiliation. “I didn’t, sir… I…”

He pulls out and thrusts into you harshly, sending the table back a few inches with a loud screech across the creaky floor. You nearly double-over and scream with how intense it all feels — his cock, pounding into you slowly yet with such determination to find the deepest pit inside you, to hit that spot over and over again until his name becomes nothing but incoherent syllables strung together.

Your shirt rides up your chest as Marc runs his palm up your abdomen, kneading at your breasts with a new kind of fervor. He rolls your hardened nipples between his fingers, pinching ever so gently before his hand finds the excess of your shirt and pins it to your throat. His grip is tight, meant to allow breathing room, but the way his eyes scour your naked torso is enough to make you lose all sense of oxygen.

“Didn’t know you liked being called stupid,” He hums in amusement.

“You can’t hold that over me.”

“No? Maybe I should just fuck you stupid. You’d like that better, wouldn’t you?” You roll your eyes at him, pulling him in for another kiss before you purposefully clamp down and around his cock again. “Jesus, Y/N… your pussy is — is so fuckin’ tight. G-God…” You bite your lip at him, mouthing at his Adam’s apple as he guides your hips to match his pace. “Ease up, baby. How do you expect me to move when you’re keepin’ me trapped like this?”

You huff, studying the build-up of sweat upon his nose ridge and how the gas lamp above casts pretty shadows over his soft face. You lean over, shifting his dick deeper into your core once your lips find the shell of his ear.

“How about you just shut up and fuck me harder? Unless you want me to get Steven? Or perhaps Jake can make me cum?”

It’s fucked up.

Marc hates to admit that he enjoys this.

With hedonistic satisfaction, you smile at how his jaw flexes in the dim light. His breathing is heavy, almost ragged in the silent minutes you spend staring each other down with devilish eyes.

Before you can even realize what’s happening, Marc is thrusting into you with a kind of animalistic prowl that you’ve only seen in his violence. The honey in his irises has long dissipated, fusing with the starless black sky outside the shack. The wobbly table is practically cracking beneath your weight, and with Marc’s long strokes, you can easily imagine it broken and splintered by tomorrow morning.

“You wanna know why I couldn’t just wait till we got home so I could do this to you?” You shake your head at him, eyes fluttering shut as pins you down onto the wooden surface. You’re bucking beneath his frame shamelessly, grabbing onto his forearm as he presses his palm onto your lower stomach. The sensual warmth in your abdomen is profound. Each of your five senses heighten as Marc’s fingers wander behind your knee, pulling your leg up and over his shoulder so that you're completely exposed to his will when his cock pounds into you. He grunts in dissatisfaction, tongue swiping across his teeth when your dreamy gaze falls upon his cock disappearing into your entrance. “Answer me, Y/N.”

“No, I d-don’t.”

“Couldn’t help myself. I just couldn’t. Not when I’ve been constantly thinkin’ about your pretty lips wrapped around my dick.” His thumb finds your clit, soothing the bundle of nerves with steady circles. A wanton moan escapes the both of you when Marc readjusts his angle. “Been imagining how good your tits would look covered in my cum. Can you blame me? Holed up together in this shithole… my mind just keeps on wandering and wandering, baby. I think of the way you smell, the way you push up against me when we’re sleeping together on that tiny cot, the way you — oh, fuck…”

His bitemarks litter your arms, his hot tongue memorizes your mouth, his saliva glistens on your nipples whilst your limbs tangle along the tabletop.

His gold chain dangles into your mouth.

“M-Marc, don’t stop! Don’t stop! Please don’t! Fuck me right there!”

His whispers grow filthier with each passing second and with each scream that’s drawn out of your quivering frame.

“I especially think of the way you look after you’ve just killed someone who tried to hurt you. Makes me want you even more.”

His words should’ve been concerning. Such a complicated sentence, and yet all you can think about is how close you are, so unbelievably close. Your heart is pounding in your ears as Marc’s deep thrusts shift you closer to that realm of ecstasy. He’s moaning loudly into your neck, deep vibrations rattling against your dried, bloodied skin until you can feel his muffled cry of your name into your shoulder. Your legs are trembling in the air, toes curling as Marc buries himself to the hilt and lets his spill coat your walls while you ride out your orgasms together.

You don’t realize that the gauze on your arm is seeping with blood until he pulls away.

His tan skin is stained from your wound, spread across his chest and violently dark-red as if you had experienced more than a simple bullet graze.

It’s fucked up. But that’s just how it is between you and Marc.

September - Lancashire, England

The autumn air is chilly as you and Jake stumble out of the fancy French doors of the pub. Laughter echoes into the cobblestone streets when he gingerly fits his cabbie cap over your head, hooking your arm with his as you start to lose balance in your stilettos. Jake tightens his coat over your shoulders with a soft tug, pecking your cheek drunkenly with a toothy grin.

“You are so fucking adorable, you know that?” He sweetly inhales the scent of your hair, pulling you closer to his body while carefully watching your footing. “I’m so glad we did this tonight, Y/N. Glad you decided to spend time with me.”

You turn his face towards you and stroke his cheek with wide, assuring eyes. “Hey, I love spending time with you.” His hand finds your lower waist beneath the coat, fingers dancing over the exposed skin of your backless dress. “We really need to do this more often.”

“Yeah, but I mean, with your new job…”

“I’ll make it work.”

“And me needing to consult with the other two idiots...”

“Hey, Steven and Marc don’t mind.”

“Sure. Right.” Jake squeezes your side. He’s quiet for a bit, walking comfortably beside you under the soft glow of street lamps until he decides to just speak his mind. “You know, it amazes me how patient you are with us.”

You chuckle, rolling your bottom lip between your teeth when his eyes trail down the frame of your side profile.

“I love all of you in my own twisted way, I guess.”

Even after all these years, he makes you so nervous. He’s the opposite of Steven Grant, more gloomy than he is sunshine but all the good qualities of Marc Spector that tend to outweigh the bad that follows being Jake Lockley. He is far from brooding, but neither is he exactly approachable.

You don’t question him on the nights he slips out of bed, whispering something about getting a glass of water only for him to disappear for hours on end. Yet somehow, he always arrives just in time to eat breakfast with you as if nothing had happened.

You don’t ask Steven or Marc about it.

You’d rather not know what he does. It wouldn’t matter anyways.

Jake smiles at you as you lower yourself into the passenger seat of his 1972 Skylark; your manicured nails wrap around the roof handle while he closes the door behind you, his hat still snug on your head. Neither of your giddy smiles fade even when Jake comes around to the driver’s side and situates himself behind the steering wheel. In fact, you grow exceptionally more flustered when he leans over the middle seat and pulls you in for what is meant to be an innocent kiss. But the taste of tequila and lime on his lips has you eagerly chasing after him, the stubble on his jaw tickling your chin as your mouths move lovingly in sync inside the dark confines of his car.

It’s only when you need to breathe that Jake pulls away, cupid’s bow tinted orange-red from your makeup as he adores you in the pale moonlight. “Did I tell you how beautiful you look tonight?”

“Just tonight?” You tease, carding your fingers through his dark curls. You don’t miss the way his enraptured stare lingers upon your features, deep in thought.

He raises your knuckles to his lips and kisses each tendon with a soft, adoring moan. “Every night, mi vida.” You chew on your lip again, unable to take your eyes off of Jake when he turns your hand over and starts worshipping the palm of your hand with yearning pecks. “Always so pretty.”

“You’re pretty.” You tenderly swipe your thumb across his eyebrow as he presses your back to the passenger door. “I love you.”

“I love you more.” He breathes out, kissing down your neck till he reaches your shoulder and finds the thin strap of your dress with a hearty laugh. “Would it ruin the mood if I said I want you right now?” You shake your head, lashes fluttering when he sensually drags the strap down your arm. “Good. That’s good. You are so irresistible. So gorgeous. So sexy, like my own personal angel.”

“Jake, don’t tease.”

“Not teasing. I just wanna take my time with you.”

“In the car?”

He hums agreeably against your jawline, nipping at your skin with his teeth until you’re sighing against him.

“In the car,” He whispers with a cheeky grin. Jake’s hand travels down your torso as the front of your dress spills over, revealing your naked breasts to him. His eyes flicker up to you for a split second, and you nod before he quickly takes a nipple into his mouth. You press his head closer to your chest, lips parting with a resigned moan when he litters your tits with tiny lovebites. “Don’t hold back, Y/N.”

You stifle another one when his fingers carefully pinch your nipples. “M’not trying to get caught.”

“There’s no one here. Besides, you act as if we haven’t done anything like this before.” Jake palms at your chest, tracing the swell of your breasts as he gauges your silent reaction. He moans when your jaw falls open just a bit, enough for him to see your tongue flatten against the roof of your mouth. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No, I-I like it.”

“Then let me hear you.” Your hips subconsciously rut upwards from the seat as Jake kisses down your sternum. The flowy skirt of your dress bunches up around your waist, his fist grasping the thin material as he finds your soft stomach and the waistband of your thong. “You drive me crazy, Y/N. This desire to make you feel good… at all times — shit, solecito mío. I could just kiss you for days. So gorgeous.”

You shudder when he suckles at your thighs, his chuckles intermixing with the barely-audible sound of your gasps as he trails his mouth down your leg. His hand wraps around your ankle, stroking your lower calf as he admires the wine-red stiletto on your foot.

“I want you to fuck me when we get home.”

Jake’s hold tightens on your leg, lips staining your soft skin with saliva while he traverses the space between your inner thighs. “And here?” You rest your head back against the cold glass window, shutting your eyes when you can feel his breaths over your needy, throbbing cunt. “What do you want me to do here?”

“Want your mouth on me. And I wanna taste you.”

He smirks playfully. “One thing at a time, yeah?”

“Or we could do both at once.” You gently grasp onto a handful of his locks, pulling his face from below to look up at you. There’s desperation laced in your furrowed brows. Your voice comes out as nothing but an impatient, high-pitched whimper. “Together.”

“You wanna cum together?” He rubs slow, thoughtful circles around your knee.

“Fuck, yes.”

Jake reaches up, picking his cabbie hat off of your head and tossing it into the backseat with hooded eyes. “Get in there then.”

The leather squeaks beneath your heaving, fumbling bodies as Jake lays you onto your back. You’re propped up tightly against the corner, his hands pushing on the backs of your thighs so that your knees are dangling over your head. He mouths at your clothed mound, kissing your cunt over the thin material with a certain devotion that’s only fronted around you.

Part of you feels like you’re being watched — the feeling still lingers despite Jake’s attest to his own lack of Khonshu in your lives.

Do you believe him? That depends. Right now, with his hands pulling your underwear past your ankles, with nimble fingers folding the fabric and stuffing it into his back pocket while his lusted gaze eats away at the visual of your bare pussy, it doesn’t matter. It definitely, definitely doesn’t matter when Jake hacks up saliva from the back of his throat, spitting on your already-wet folds with a somehow classy elegance that makes you forget how filthy this all feels.

It’s not filthy if it’s love, right? You love Marc. You love Steven. You love Jake. None of it feels wrong, but should it?

Fuck, it doesn’t matter.

“God, you’re soaked.” Jake gasps with you as he dips the tip of his finger into your entrance, sliding it in and out slowly as he becomes mesmerized by your body’s response: the immediate arch of your back, the strangled purrs, your breathless appearance as he impatiently adds another digit. “You’re just as tight as the first time I fingered you.”

“Mmm, oh, fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” You squirm against him, covering your mouth with the back of your hand as his lips suction over your clit. “Jake…”

His body is vibrating with tension. “Love how you’re squeezing my fingers. Keep doin’ that. Bet it feels good doesn’t it, mi vida?”

“It does. Fuck, it does, but I…” You splay your hand over the backrest of the seat, clutching onto the slippery material as your grip on his hair tightens. Almost shamefully, you peer down at him with a contorted look of frustrated pleasure, pupils glazed over. “Jake, baby…”

“Hm?” He glances at you, halting his movements out of, at first, genuine concern when he notices the hitch in your strained voice.

And when he’s met with the cute, bratty pout on your face, he doesn’t know whether he wants to fuck it off of you ruthlessly or give in to whatever meek yet lewd request is sitting on the tip of your tongue.

The whimper that squeaks out of you is enough to send all the blood in his body rushing to his dick.

“I need your mouth,” You sigh wantingly.

Jake can’t keep his stare off of the needy rise and fall of your tits, and he certainly can’t help but admire how hard you’re biting your lip – it’s almost comical, how he’s got you so instantly riled-up, but he understands. He feels it too, in Steven’s and Marc’s desire to front, in his own beating heart and his hard cock, that you need him. Everywhere. Somehow. And even though that hysterical part of Jake wants to deny you of this satisfaction, deny you of his touch, deny you of even talking to him because orgasms last so much longer with a greater and tenser build-up, he just can’t. He’s been kind tonight – tonight, which is all about you, with your new, normal, civilian job and an incoming promotion, tonight with your trusting eyes and your sexy dress that Steven had ended up buying you because he has impeccable taste, tonight with your dreamy sighs and the way you carry your scars from previous tours with Marc with such incomparable beauty that you make violence seem romantic.

So, sure. He’ll give in tonight.

“Come here.”

He reaches for you, surveying how you follow him with no question, clambering onto his lap with loving adherence. Jake strokes the nape of your neck and lets his hands find the small of your back. You stare into each other’s eyes for a few moments, a couple minutes, just admiring, basking in the intimacy that is so oftentimes and unfortunately rare with Jake Lockley.

Then, he speaks. “Do you want to sit on my face, solecito mío?”

You make a noise that sounds more animalistic than human.

Maybe it’s a reflection of how Jake makes you feel. But then, you suppose that’s how Marc makes you feel as well. And some nights, Steven, too.

“I do.” You nod. Jake nods back in acknowledgement, brushing your hair back with steady fingertips. His nose nudges against yours as you sigh into his mouth, reveling in your lover’s quiet whispers of sweet nothings. “I want to make you feel good, also.”

“You wanna make me feel good?” He kisses your shoulder, lips ghosting over the old bullet graze on your bicep from that job in Turkey.

He doesn’t want to think about the things you did with Marc – the killings don’t bother him, but the sex does. If anything, it’ll only make Jake angry, only make him want to deny you of himself even though his adoration for you goes deeper than this superficial desire.

“Yeah, fuck, I do.”

“You want me to cum all over that amazing throat of yours? Just dump my cum inside you?”

“Wanna be your cumslut.”

It’s silent until you abruptly giggle at each other, almost because of how bizarrely horny either of you sound right now. It’s out of character for you to be this vocal with him, but Jake has learned a couple things from Marc, and Marc from Steven, which he intends to put to good use.

But even though the words sound utterly ridiculous coming from you, his body thinks otherwise. He’s thrumming with want, and Jake isn’t sure how long he can go without having something warm on his cock. “Again.”

You bat your lashes at him, teasingly through a half-serious chuckle. “Wanna be your cumslut. Want you down my throat, keeping me there, choking me with your dick.”

“Oh, Y/N, you’re filthy.”

“Just like you, Jake.”

He practically growls, “Prove it, then. How filthy can you get for me?”

You press down on his clothed chest, watching as he lays flat onto the seat. It’s an uncomfortable position, especially when your elbow rams against the roof as you try to rid yourself of your wrinkled dress. There’s barely any room for your other leg to straddle him, but when you maneuver your sweaty bodies so that your cunt is hovering over his face and his erection is aching to meet your mouth, things start to feel smoother from there on out.

There’s a reason why sixty-nine is his favorite number.

At this point, you don’t even wait to fully take his pants off. His belt is strewn over the front seats, his fly down and greedy cock pulled over the stretchy waistband of his pre-cum ruined boxers.

“You’re so fucking hard…” You coo, glancing at him over your shoulder as he rubs his fingers around your entrance.

He parts your folds, sticking his warm tongue into your cunt while you take the tip of him into your mouth. “F-Fuck, Y/N…” His hips involuntarily thrust into you, and you can’t help but grin around his length before taking him further. His swollen cock pulses in your throat as you lazily bob your head up and down his shaft. “Mmm, fuck, that — that feels good, baby.”

The vibrations of his moans against your pussy has you mewling, humming in pleasure as he sucks at your sensitive clit and the bulb of nose prods against your hole. “J-Jake, honey, your mouth — it’s, oh, keep fucking your tongue into me. Just like that — oh, fuck!” You shudder, and Jake takes advantage of your intense satisfaction to hook his arms tighter around your thighs and pull you deeper against his face. You grind against him, expletives falling from your lips as your juices coat his jaw and chin while he helps rock you back and forth.

“Tastes so good, Y/N. So wet, so sweet, this pussy is just all for me, hm?” He grunts, carefully thrusting into your throat. “Shit, baby. Takin’ this cock so well, too. You’re loving this, aren’t you?” You can only respond with whimpering moans as he fucks your mouth, salty tears brimming at your eyes when you can feel the overwhelming sensation of his fullness. “God, Y/N, you’re gonna make me cum.”

And as he makes haste to bring you to the edge, you give the same attention to his cock, using your small fist to twist around the leftover space that your mouth can’t take. Saliva covers your fingers as you gag pornographically around his prick, he’s thicker than he is long, but that doesn’t make taking him any easier.

“Jake, oh — I’m… fuck, I’m right there.”

“Yeah? You wanna cum together?”

“Please, baby.”

He fills your throat with his seed as you attempt to fit all of him into your mouth. Your vision goes fuzzy from the long, tedious seconds without oxygen and the combined feeling of a drawn-out orgasm. Jake has your cunt trapped against his lips, sucking and tugging at your clit while a dreamlike haze washes over the two of you.

The windows are fogged-up. It’s sweaty, the stench of sex lingers, and your numb bodies are far from graceful even as Jake moves to pull you into his arms and caress the back of your head, resting your ear against his chest because he wants you to listen to how fast his heartbeat is right now.

Then, you mention something to him about round two at home. He laughs and kisses you tenderly, convinced that you’ll probably end up falling asleep on the ride back.

Far from graceful.

But nothing else matters when it comes to him.

May - Brighton, England

“What do you call an alligator with a compass?”

You take a bite out of the strawberry pinched between your fingers, squinting through the blinding sun. “What?”

“A… navi-gator.” Steven deadpans, wiggling his eyebrows at you as you glare at him over the top of your half-finished paperback. You can’t help but chuckle softly, shaking your head at him as you try to hide the childish smirk tugging at your lips. “Oh, come on. Seriously, Y/N? That one was so good.”

“You cannot crack me.“ You cross your ankles over each other and place your book down. Sitting up on the red picnic blanket, you rest back on your forearms and gaze at him intently.

He wags his pointer finger. “Ah, ah, I know another one.” Inhaling deeply, he gestures at you. “Did you hear about the crocodile who was unable to mate?”

You stifle a snort, biting your lip as you can feel the laughter bubbling deep within your chest. “I did not, why?”

“He had a reptile dysfunction.” You maintain a neutral face, nodding nonchalantly at Steven’s fifth adorable attempt of a gator joke. “Really? Not even that one?”

“I am as hard as a rock.”

The dark-haired man sputters, clutching his stomach as he laughs loudly. “Are you now?”

“No! Oh, my god. Not like that, Steven!” You playfully swat his thigh with the back of your hand, grinning widely as he rolls over onto his side to look at you. “Listen, I meant—“

“Am I that funny? That my humor ends up seducing you, petal?” He strokes your calf with a bright smile. “Do my jokes turn you on that much?”

“No, they don’t. Not even one bit.” You chew on your bottom lip, watching as Steven’s fingers travel higher and higher till they reach the bottom of your sundress. “Do my jokes turn you on?”

“No, not at all.” His features soften, eyes half-lidded and his golden complexion illuminated by the sunlight in your backyard. “You’re the farthest from funny.”

“Please, I am the funniest person alive.” Your stare flickers down to where his palm spreads itself over your thigh, long and thick digits caressing your skin. “We’ve been married for months and I still think I’m the better joker out of the two of us, Mr. Grant.”

“You’ve got it all wrong, Mrs. Grant.” Steven plays along as he reaches into the container of strawberries beside you, wrapping his pink lips around one before he takes a small bite. Your curious eyes never leave his mouth, entranced by how a bead of juice dribbles down his chin as he swallows the fleshy fruit with a quiet moan. Steven notices. He’s not stupid, not as oblivious as people tend to think, and especially not as innocent, because his motions are absolutely purposeful. “Is this turning you on?”

You gulp loudly, feeling summer sweat collect at the nape of your neck as you rub your thighs together. The notion causes your dress to ride up, and Steven keenly catches a glimpse of your lack of panties. You see him falter, jaw clenching visibly and lashes fluttering as you shift closer to him.

You take the other half of the strawberry from his fingers, examining the red delicacy before sensually popping it into your mouth.

“Not at all.”

But it does. It turns you on when Steven reaches over and holds you by the small of your back, arching you and guiding you into his chest as you yearningly nudge noses. It turns you on when he sighs against your lips, shaky and overcome by the need to feel you as if he hadn’t taken you from behind on the kitchen counter just this morning. It turns you on when he presses his mouth to yours, tasting of strawberries and even more strawberries when he finds your tongue in the midst of your heated make-out.

“This doesn’t turn you on?” He sighs brokenly against the divot of your collarbone, squeezing and grasping every soft, untouched part of you that makes you squirm against him.

“No.” You moan breathily, throwing your head back when he takes his time to untie the halter string of your sundress from your neck. You nip at his jaw when he skims a hand over your chest, pulling the thin material down to expose your breasts. “Steven… the neighbors…”

“We have a bloody fence,” He pants out as you reach under his shirt and palm at his soft belly, inching closer to his waistband.

“And we have the tendency to be loud, honey.” You smirk against his neck, kissing down his throat until you’re using your teeth to gently tug on his thin chain. “Who’s to say that they’re not gonna hear?”

“Guess you’ll have to keep me quiet then, hm?” He quips, jaw falling open as you dip your hand into his sweatpants and reach for his erection. “My god, Y/N…”

“You’re not wearing underwear!” You giggle in shock, gasping jokingly and feverishly biting at his earlobe.

Sweatpants and a lack of boxers was always a common thing for Steven, especially when he’d have you at home, all to himself, ready to go anytime for a ten-minute quickie or a lazy blowjob. But something about the thought of him here — having eaten strawberries with you on a picnic blanket, outside and in the yard with the possibility of getting caught, the possibility (which you’ve achieved) of making him hard through his sweats — made his affinity for nudity so much sexier.

“Well, neither are you, petal.”

“So, two people without underwear… alone…” You kiss his face tenderly, ghosting over his lips in a teasing manner that has his body physically chasing after your mouth. “… laying in the yard… kissing, biting…” Steven lets out a long moan when you squeeze your hand around his length. “… touching each other… hm, what ever shall they do?”

He shudders with closed eyes when you help rid him of his sweatpants, haphazardly tossing the grey material to the side. He groans in awe when you spit into your hand, coating his cock with your saliva as you admire his frenzied state.

“Fuck me.”

A yelp escapes you when he suddenly hauls you into his lap. You’re positioned on the tops of his outstretched and naked thighs, his dick just out of reach from your desperate touch. Steven moves quickly and impatiently, marking your exposed breasts and sucking at your nipples with lustful adoration while your dress pools around his indecency.

“I wanna make you cum so hard, Steven.”

“You filthy woman,” He chuckles genuinely at you, palming at the fleshiness of your ass as you rock against his body. You touch him everywhere — his chest, his unruly head of hair, his cheeks and his muscled arms — except for where he craves it the most. But you give into him, eventually. “Oh, I absolutely adore you. I love you. I love you so much, Y/N.” Steven whimpers needily as you start to stroke him slowly, using both of your fists to twist around his shaft while you grind your cunt on his thigh. “Ah, f-fuck… fuck, darling.”

“Steven, your cock is so big.” You tease, studying how his gaze drops to where you jerk him against your warm belly. “You’re just so hot. I can’t wait to get you to the edge…” A devilish smile forms on your lips as he sexily tilts his head back, eyes rolling to the back of his skull in utter bliss as you tease his leaking tip. “… oh, but only for me to stop…” You halt the stroking motions, keeping your hands tight and still around his thickness. “… and take you back to square one.”

“No, please,” He begs, opening his eyes to look at you. You see the fiery need to cum in his glazed-over stare, wild and almost pathetically unhinged as he innocently bounces his thigh beneath you. “Please, let me cum all over you.”

The phrase combined with his actions cause you to moan, mostly out of surprise, but also at how good the friction feels.

Hot skin, his hair tickling you, your slick leaving a wet and embarrassing, sticky patch on him.

“I’ll make you cum if you make me?” You roll your hips back and forth against him. Steven’s grip on your ass tightens, hands spreading you apart as he intentionally presses his thigh up to your pussy. “Do you wanna be inside me right now?”

“God, Y/N, I’ll give you anything you want.” He holds you by the chin, wide pupils admiring you. “Do anything you please, anything that’ll make you feel good…”

You whine when his fingers come down onto your clit, circling the nub while you start to lazily stroke him again. “Anything?”

“Oh, anything. You know that.”

“What if I don’t want you to fuck me?” He presses a kiss to your throat, trying to hold back his orgasm when you put pressure around the head of his cock. “What if I wanted to just — mmm — have your dick in my hands… show you how you make me feel? How you tease me, how you touch me and have me aching for you?” His tongue slips into your rambling mouth, whimpers and grunts escaping your molded bodies as Steven keeps you on his thigh. “How you always make me fucking wait before I can cum?”

“Are you going to e-edge me?” He looks deeply into your eyes, teeth clamping down on his lower lip as you slow your pace. “Is that it? Because I like edging you?”

“Just wanna give you a taste of what it's like, honey.” You use your free hand to brush through his curly locks, fingers getting tangled in his scalp. “Is that okay?”

The pleading words leave him instantly.

“Anything for you.”

The furrow in his brows has you clutching onto him to stop yourself from just sinking down onto his dick. So, instead, you remain straddling his thighs, sitting with each knee swung on either side of him as you wrap two eager hands around his cock and work him until he’s a moaning mess for you again.

“Such a handsome boy. Everytime we make love…” You survey him closely, falling in a sexed-out trance with just how his lips part and how he throws his head back like it’s the first time he’s ever been touched. “… you look so fucking good.”

“I love y-you, Y/N. God — goddamnit,” His nose scrunches up as you jerk him off with longer, but slower motions. Naturally, he’s more sensitive by the tip, which you’re proven right when his stomach ripples visibly, flexing and tensing below you. “Ah, fuck! Fuck, darling. Like that. Oh, just like that. Slow. Slow, please.”

“Falling apart for me already?” You sigh shakily, growing wetter as his pre-cum begins to bead down your knuckles. “No cumming until I say so, Steven.”

“Please. Oh, my god. I can’t — Y/N, I won’t… I don’t think I can bear it.” He hisses, running his hands up and down your hips to distract himself. “Fuck, can I see you?”

“Wha—“

“I want you to take off the dress.” He requests gruffly, before clearing his throat. “Please, petal.”

You nod with a soft smile, caressing his jaw before you’re helping each other rid yourselves of your remaining clothing. Steven’s shirt and your sundress joins his pants by the corner of the blanket. Instantly, his hands fondle your breasts, skimming over the fading hickies and wandering across your abdomen.

“I can feel you pulsating.”

“That is ‘cause you’ve got me rock fucking hard, you know.” He jokes, referring to your words from earlier. “S-shit, Y/N. How much longer?”

“I’m sorry, Steven. No cumming.” You purr at him. “Not yet. Tell me what’s going on in that pretty head, yes?”

“I mean, you’re just perfect. This body… fuck, who made you like this? How can someone be so beautiful?” The passion laced in his voice has you reeling, nearly doubling over onto his bare chest. “Baby. Oh, baby. Please! Please, I wanna cum. Oh, I wanna cum for you.”

You moan audibly. “Have you been a good boy?”

“I have.”

“Are you mine?”

You let Steven fuck himself into your fist, digits sticky with mess as he rushes to reach his high. “I’m yours. Are you mine?”

You suppose he’s waited long enough.

“Only if you cum for me, honey.”

And as your hand twists and tugs at his cock, Steven falls apart in your grasp. His whole body twitches, fingers bruising your hips as his cum spills over your palms and coats your skin with his seed. Yet, somehow, in the prolonged haziness of his orgasm, Steven can only spew out declarations of love. He calls you every synonym of beautiful, worships your upright body with his swollen lips as he decorates you with his devotion.

“I am so enamored by you, Y/N.” Steven breathes out, laying back onto the picnic blanket beside you. You tuck your head under his arm, sighing as he shifts you closer towards his naked frame. “You are a gift.”

“And you… are a gift shop-ist. So, I guess we’re meant to be.” You laugh sweetly at each other, gazing into one another’s eyes as you trace hearts over Steven’s sternum. “See what I did there?”

“You are not funny.”

The swelling glimmer of amusement in his irises says otherwise.

Home.

“I love you, too.”

The sky turns pink over your entangled bodies, golden and sunkissed as you draw a path of kisses along Steven’s jawline while he falls into a different kind of bliss.

You love Steven. You love Jake. You love Marc. And while everything else in the world is fucked up and a cherry-colored funk of clustering emotions, you want to believe that nothing else matters but them. Nothing else matters if it feels right, if it feels like home and a warmth that can’t be found with anyone, anywhere else.

Let it all burn if that meant loving them all.

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mand0-l0rian · 3 years ago

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I came for the SW fics but now I’m staying for this series 🤩

Surely, You’d Burn the Same (Batman/Bruce Wayne x fem!reader)

PART TWO PART THREE PART FOUR

Rated: Mature, Explicit 18+

Word Count: 6.2k

Warnings: smut, sexpollen (dubcon), explicit language, handjobs, oral (both male and female), vaginal fingering, multiple orgasms, mentions of violence, brief mention of an IV/needle, Bruce is touch starved lmfao (lmk if I missed anything please!!)

a/n: ok while consent is given on both parties, it’s has sex pollen-esque features so it is dubious consent!! just be aware of that! ANNYWAY PLEASE ENJOY (also thank u sm to the lovely @jango-fettish for helping me come up with this idea)

Fuck Lieutenant James Gordon.

Fuck him and his stupid penchant for glorifying vigilante justice. And fuck yourself for coming back here in this shithole of a city called Gotham. You’re a goddamn forensic analyst. You’re not supposed to be involving yourself with shit like this.

But alas, trouble always has a way of finding you.

It nears six months into your job when you start to hear the rumors. Missing money from evidence, smudged fingerprints, evidence destroyed. Staff meetings about bribery, pay-offs to cover up the ferocious criminal underbelly of Gotham. The list goes on and on. Half the CSI staff eats out of the hand of some crime figurehead. The Penguin mostly—dude’s got a thumb in every pie scattered across the city. You don’t entirely blame them—the pay is shit and the job shittier. If you didn’t have the familial ties that you do, you’d be in the same bind as them.

You keep your head down. You don’t want any part of it.

Keep reading

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mand0-l0rian · 3 years ago

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Me: *unapologetically draws Pedro Pascal yet again* ☁️

20K notes · View notes

mand0-l0rian · 3 years ago

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*·ﾟ𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 | Biker!Ari Levinson x naive!reader (biker x baker au)

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | fluff, size difference, 6’7” Ari, innocent!reader, soft!Ari, possessive behaviour, SMUT - minors DNI, p*ssyjob, size kink, innocence/ruined kink, daddy kink, panty sniffing, (so much) dirty talk, spitting, fingering (f), praise kink, degradation, dumbification, breeding kink, unprotected sex (p in v), squirting, creampie

𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | Months into your relationship with Ari, he finally indulges in his deepest desires—that are also his biggest-little fears. Based on this ask.

𝗪/𝗖 | 6.47K

𝗔/𝗡 | hi anon, thank you for being patient with this request, it's my first time writing for ari ! I scrapped the smut last night and rewrote it—this is so filthy, someone needs to shut biker!ari up. All mistakes are my own. [all asks — all drabbles]

˗ˏˋ𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭ˎˊ˗ ⋰˚ 𝐂.𝐄. & 𝐂𝐨. 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

“Bear, be quiet.” You giggle, crumbling beneath his weight as he leans on you, “Ah! Walk, Ari!”

The big, burly man growls, rubbing his nose on your head. “Mhm, you smell like sugar cream…” His hand drags along the wall as you stumble further down the hall, and he’s hanging off you like a limp sack of muscles and hair.

“I—hold on,” you reach into the pocket of his leather jacket, fishing out his keys. Silver shines in the dim lights, the handmade beaded bracelet hanging from the ring, a carefully chosen pattern of blue, pink and lilac—not purple, lilac is prettier, Ari told you. The gift was too small for his wrist, so he added it to his keys instead.

Although, you wish you thought about sizing before making it because seeing the usually stone-cold and silent biker wearing a cute beaded bracelet would be amusing.

Ari was smooth, observant and worldly-wise, clad in leather and denim, with a chain around his neck and rings on his hands if it were a special occasion. That was how everyone knew him. To you, he was the sharp and collected co-owner of the mechanic shop across the street who never seemed to take his lunch break.

You were kind, sensitive and sincere and started to sneak in bundles of neatly packaged freshly baked goods to leave them on the counter whenever he went into his office. Far too shy and nervous to say a single word to the domineering biker.

This went on for weeks, and you started leaving more treats for the rest of the bikers employed at Fast Lane Mechanics. Ari and his friends were getting spoiled by the little angel from the bakery, filling up on the pastries from The Snickerdoodle.

Then one day, Ari caught you. You got startled and accidentally walked right into the wall during your abrupt escape—the biker proceeded to tuck you into his office until you calmed down.

That was months ago, and you’ve been dating ever since. To be fair, you were very hesitant to say yes because of your lack of experience with relationships. But Ari, ever the gentleman, has worshiped the ground you walk on and your existence—even if it goes unnoticed by you, as most things tend to do.

“Are you going to give me your sugar cream?”

You struggle to unlock his apartment door, oblivious to the growing tent in Ari’s jeans. “Uh…the bake sale is tomorrow, but I don’t mind giving my boyfriend a free treat.”

The door swings open, slamming into the wall as you cringe. Stepping into the dark living room and kicking the door shut, you wobble towards the bedroom. Ari’s chin bumps against the top of your head as he showers you in kisses.

“Wasn’t talkin’ about that cream.”

“Hm?” You look up at him, finally making it to his bedroom and attempting to set him on the bed, but he clings to you. You collapse onto his chest with a squeak, straddling his hips.

“I missed you today, angel,” Ari smirks, dark hair fanning across the sheets like a halo. He easily moves you until you’re seated on his bulge.

Your eyes widen and you gulp nervously, intimidated by the size. “I-I missed you too…”

“I like your new skirt, it‘s cute.” He pinches the flimsy fabric before sliding his hands up your thighs. “I wish I stopped by the bakery today, I could’ve seen you in your little apron and that headband with the bow. Always so fuckin’ adorable in your uniform.”

You giggle and try to push him away, “You’re not too bad yourself, handsome, covered in grease and those work jeans—ah!” You’re flipped over, crushed under his weight. A stream of laughter flows from you as his fingers dig into your sides, your legs and arms flailing as he tickles you relentlessly.

Ari’s breath catches in his throat, his hands freeze and his eyes fall between your thighs. Your skirt is flipped up, revealing the cotton panties that cup your mound.

The alcohol in Ari’s system has him thinking with a one-track mind, drunk off the memory of a past date that ended with his cock sliding along your wet cunt. The sweetest moans poured from your lips as he moved you how he wanted with ease. Firmly seating you on his bare length and gripping your thighs, watching your cream coat him.

He remembers smelling you on his beard when he dropped you off at home.

You had requested to take things slow—and it’s been absolutely perfect, Ari didn’t mind that it took over three weeks to kiss, and even longer to do some over-clothes touching.

Although, this was utter torture. Now, Ari must restrain from devouring you like a beast. He’s fingered you and rubbed his dick against your folds, but he’s only ever been inside with the tip and that was after spending a good thirty minutes opening you up.

You’re smaller than him and extremely more delicate than his 6’7” beefy tower of muscle and meat.

Worst of all, you’re unaware of the effect you have on him. Teasing him with your gentle touches and soft-spoken words, your compassion and your body striking him to the core. Nearly begging him to just lift you up and carry you wherever he wants. To hide you away from the rest of the big, wide world.

As Ari’s hand draws closer to your heat, you swiftly escape from under him. With your ass in the air, you crawl off the bed and stand on solid ground again. “You deserve a timeout for that, mister.” You point a finger.

God, he loves you, but he’s not drunk enough to let that slip. You love him too and similarly, you need a drink to get that confidence to say it—you were just too damn shy.

“Hm, how about you just give me a kiss instead?”

Not only are you physically weaker than the biker, but you’re awfully vulnerable to that deep drawl and those light blue eyes, his dominant nature pulls you toward him like a magnet. Ari cups your cheeks, bringing you in an uncoordinated but tender kiss. It goes from gentle pecks to his tongue slipping between your lips. His skilled digits trail up your legs and under your skirt again.

“Bear, you’re so handsy…” You squirm, ignoring the dampness in your panties because there are more pressing matters at hand. As the clock strikes midnight, you know that waking up in the morning will be a pain.

Dropping to your knees, you shiver as his warmth crawls up your arms and he tugs on the collar of your shirt. As you unbuckle his belt and start dragging his pants down, Ari closes his eyes in anticipation, awaiting the bliss that comes with your lips around his cock. Blood rushes through his veins as he remembers the first time you sucked him off, all innocent and nervous—is this okay? You’re so big… I don’t know how I’ll fit you in my mouth.

That ecstasy turns into confusion when he doesn’t feel you rub over his length because that was the first rule he gave you about blowing him. He loved feeling your hand over his clothed cock, almost as much as he loved watching you choke on his fat girth.

And you were always a good girl and a good listener.

Ari sits up, suddenly very sober and aware.

“There,” you lean back on your feet, beaming up at him. So small, delicate between his thick, toned thighs, “now you can sleep all nice and comfy. Jeans aren’t good pyjamas.”

If possible, his heart grows bigger to offer even more affection for you. “I’m going to marry you one day.” Ari flops on his back, his dick shamelessly straining his boxers. “I already told the guys, Curtis and Bucky were arguing about who should be my best man.”

Your eyes fall to the bulge. And unfortunately, you can’t hide from your brain that replays those sinful events like a movie, Ari’s filthy words playing in your ears, his rough hands holding you so tightly. You whimper, subconsciously clenching your thighs before your head snaps up, “You’re drunk, Ari. You don’t mean that.” You’ve only been dating for a few months, too early to meet extended family, let alone, get married.

“Really? Go check my nightstand.”

You shoot up and process his words, then you eagerly start crossing the room but Ari grabs your wrist. He pulls you to stand between his legs, flashing you a knowing smile, “Aw baby, you want to be my wife already?” He chuckles, soft blue eyes gleaming, “There’s no ring—yet. I still haven’t measured your finger.”

Your heart settles as yet echoes in your head, you want to hide away, “Y-You’re so drunk…”

His fellow biker friends had called you when Ari was too intoxicated to get home by himself, they offered to call him a cab, but you were still at the bakery preparing for tomorrow’s bake sale. So, you swung by the bar, pulling up along the row of big shiny bikes as the handsome men hauled your boyfriend into the passenger seat.

To others, Ari was fairly quiet, only speaking when his voice was needed yet he wasn’t shy by any means. More of a silent observer with a searing gaze that could be felt through the skeleton to the soul. Your bones were familiar with that burn, while your inner thighs were still healing from his beard after he ate you out yesterday.

“God, I hate that…”

“Hate what, bear?”

“Your fuckin’ seat—always gotta put it back when I’m drivin’ this tiny bug.”

You giggle, reaching over to unbuckle his seatbelt. “It’s because you’re a giant.”

Ari sighs to himself, tapping his pen on the desk as last night’s events repeat in his mind. He doesn’t know if he should feel humiliated over his behaviour or frustrated—both sexually and generally—over you.

It wasn’t a ring in his nightstand, it was a key to his apartment, personalized with your favourite colours. He’s relieved you didn’t open the drawer, perhaps it was too early to give you a key to his place, but he adored you so deeply.

He’s dreamt of the things you could potentially do together if you had a key—or, better yet, lived with him—surprising you with breakfast in bed, spending the weekends lounging on the couch or in the kitchen where you’d attempt to teach him recipes. He can imagine ordering-in dinner together only to fill up on flawless baked goods that you’d make, dressed in his clothes with your apron, just like the little angel you are.

Domestic, soft things that he’s never fantasized about in his life.

As always, on the tail of those wishes are his fears. In the grand scheme of things, they’re insignificant and shouldn’t matter, especially since you’ve displayed a fondness for it. Those small concerns wrap around Ari’s mouth and keep him from ravaging you like a wild animal, keeping him from diving headfirst into his deepest desires.

His little fears aren’t things like missing payments, losing the shop or his friends, not even wrecking his prized bike. Those are reasonable worries that could greatly impact his life, but they’re different from his tiny, truly comical concerns. Ari’s ridiculous little fears revolve around you. With you being so much smaller than him, graceful and pure in every sense, his biggest-little fear was hurting delicate you.

Of course, he’d never intentionally harm you—you’re the most gentle bear, Ari—but your size difference was a touchy subject for him. He doesn’t know how much longer he can control himself, one wrong move and he’ll wreak you wherever you stand. And this time, it will go the way in.

Why did you have to be so irresistible?

It’s concerning how hard and fast Ari has fallen for your clumsy and sugary charm. He loves you yet, he feels guilty about tainting you. Colouring your blank pages with his shades of sin in bruises and bite marks, but his sick hunger to ruin you were stronger than that remorse.

He inhales sharply, your voice echoing in his head—that first night, you called him daddy, only to never repeat it, even when you did things. He doesn’t think you noticed either. Daddy, it was a breathy gasp as your juices poured out, covering his thick, heavy cock.

Ari is tempted to leave the shop early just to get off with the thought of you.

You aren’t safe from him. Your innocence, your body and your mind aren’t sheltered from him, and he’s already tarnished the thought of you. In his head, you’re withering on a bed, covered in his saliva and seed, with marks sitting pretty on your softest parts.

It’d be incredibly easy to pick you up and fuck you anywhere, on the desk, against the wall, on his bike. He foggily recalls having you to ride his face after one date—oh no, he talked about your sex life with his friends too, that included voicing all of his pent-up frustration too.

“—No, she definitely wants that.” Bucky sips his beer.

“How do you know that?” Ari huffs, tipsy enough to spill his concerns to his best friends. He doesn’t remember much of what he said, but it was about your size difference and his influence on your purity.

Across the table, Steve agrees. “You can just tell.”

Curtis nods. “It’s when she looks up at you like she’s got other things in mind, and she bites her lip. I’ve seen her stare at your arms, she clenches her thighs and squirms, just waiting for you to pick her up—”

Ari frowns, “—All right, that’s enough.”

Curtis raises his arms, his beanie is drawn low. “I’m just saying… you’re scared of nothing, you should be thankful that she gets off on your size difference too.”

“I know.” Ari elbows him, “stay the hell away, jerk.”

The man scoffs, “I’ve got my eyes set on that one.” He smirks as the beautiful waitress swings by and picks up their glasses for another refill. “Hey baby, you come here often?”

The rest of the bikers groan as the woman chortles, shoving his shoulder. “I work here, you dummy.”

Curtis smirks, bringing his girl in for a quick kiss. “Mhm, and your shift is almost done. I’m staying here for a little longer, but I’ll bring home your favourite take-out.”

“Are you trying to get out of changing the cat litter?”

“I’m trying to love up on my lady, is that a crime?”

The young woman prys his fingers from her hip, “This is still my workplace so keep those hands to yourself.” She turns to Ari, “How’s your girl? I’ve heard folks talking about the bake sale all day.”

He’s about to answer, but Bucky interrupts. “Ari wants to devour her but he’s scared because she’s so small compared to him—”

“—everyone is.”

“—but it’s obvious she wants him to, she just doesn’t know it.”

A grin plays on the waitress’s lips. “Well, this is juicy.”

“We’re trying to make him go for it. You know they’ve only done pussyjobs?”

Ari’s jaw drops as he smacks the back of Curtis’ head, “fuckin’ loudmouth, and that’s not true.”

“Oh, right, sorry—Ari’s only ever fit the tip in.” The other men burst into giggles while Ari whacks Curtis again.

The woman stifles her laughter, ignoring her boyfriend’s curses. “She’s as innocent as they get and trust me, a girl like her doesn’t know unless you spell it out for her. And I’ve seen her with you, Ari, she certainly has the same interests as you.”

Most people look up to the biker because he stands at 6’7”. Although, your size difference runs much deeper than that.

He’s impartial and stern, his voice is loud, clear and commanding, his choice of words is well-thought-out and highly valued. A tall and sturdy stature like a skyscraper, his thick and powerful muscles are well-earned with his consistent gym sessions.

On the other hand, you’re soft-spoken, pristine and shy. Terribly naive with meeting new people and seemingly normal social interactions, including sexual innuendos. Clad in skirts and dresses of pastel shades with knee highs, always smelling sweet with the most adorable smile.

Ari is wide and confident, as deep and intriguing as the sea. He can be as cold as the deepest trenches, harbouring secrets that will never see the light of day. And, you're nothing like that. You don’t have the ability to be cold or bitter, you were made as soft and sweet as the baked goods at The Snickerdoodle. Most importantly, you had the power to turn the strict biker into a pile of flirtatious, sincere adoration and gentle caresses with a single glance.

Ari can’t remember the last time he was this invested in a relationship—or a person.

In the dictionary, there would be a picture of you under the words soft and sinless. And, under smitten, would be a photograph of a lovesick Ari with a bright blush erupting under his beard.

Soon enough, Ari starts working again. Going over the documents on his desk, marking things to bring up with the rest of the guys as the hours fly by. Then, Curtis bursts through the office door with grease on his hands and arms, “Hey, that guy is back.”

Ari’s face twists in confusion, “What?”

“That guy who flirts with your girl.”

The biker stiffens, narrowed gaze set on his friend. If this wasn’t a sign, he didn’t know what was.

Curtis scratches his beard as a suspicion arises about what’s going through Ari’s mind. He decides to add a little more fuel to the fire. “Yeah, he’s been across the street for a while and has snatched up each sample from the bake sale at least twice.”

It happened all too fast for you to process.

First, you’re chatting happily with a regular customer, answering his strangely daft questions between packaging orders for the bake sale. Then, the little bell rings from above the door and heavy footsteps walk up to the counter before a wall of shadows appears.

If you were paying attention, you would’ve seen Ari and the guys push the man out of the way. As they line up along the counter by the display, shoulder to shoulder with threatening glares that send the man rushing out.

“All of it? Are you sure?”

Ari nods, “Steve doesn’t have anything for the party at the community centre—even though he said he would. Plus, the guys and I haven’t had lunch yet.” He plucks a cupcake from a platter, taking a large bite and getting icing in his beard. “Tastes delicious, angel, you bake any maple pecan danishes?”

Still overwhelmed by him buying the entire bakesale stock, you fumble over your words. “Uh-huh… back—they’re in the back.” You answer breathlessly. “Mrs. Martha is going to have a heart attack.”

That wasn’t completely wrong—although it would have been more accurate if you added: “and I.”

Once Ari’s massive order was packaged and divided among the bikers, Mrs. Martha, the owner of the bakery, gave you the rest of the day off. You accepted Ari’s offer of a ride home on his motorcycle and clung to him like a koala until he pulled up to his apartment.

Those events have led to you splayed out on his bed. Clothes in a haphazard trail from the front door to his bedroom, your panties clenched in his fist as he brings them to his nose.

“Bear, I—” you shuffle backwards as he kneels on the mattress, yanking your ankles until you’re flat on your back. Then, he’s on top of you, his heated gaze set on you as your cotton panties hang from between his teeth.

“Hm?” He suckles the gusset, groaning lowly at your taste.

You whimper as his clothed length presses against your heat, snug between your folds as he pulls you closer. “Uh, what’s going on—” You’re cut off by a cry as Ari starts moving, slowly grinding against your cunt.

Instantly, his boxers are soaked with you, it seeps through the fabric to his cock, and releases the desire he’s kept locked behind iron bars. It’s free and starving and making him shameless.

“You’re so good, angel, you know that?” Your panties land on the bed and Ari sinks lower until his lips meet your neck. His beard tickles you between his kisses, “Always so polite—too polite, and so innocent.”

You melt into the sheets, and your legs wrap around his hips as he thrusts against your cunt. He murmurs against your skin in a gravelly tone, “You don’t even notice when a man is flirting with you.”

“Huh?” You gasp.

“It’s okay, I’m not upset with you. I know you can’t think for yourself. Such a sweet, beautiful girl, so neglectful and oblivious—that’s why you need me.” He reaches down, pulling out his throbbing dick and sliding between your creamy petals, he growls at the feeling of your warmth, “Just a dumb baby brain. You need daddy to think for you, huh?”

You don’t have a chance to feel mortified because Ari leans back, slapping the fat tip on your button, sloppily tracing around your hole.

“C’mon, angel, say it. You said it that first night, but you were too cockdrunk to notice. Can’t think when my dick is on your pussy, yeah? Look at us.” He demands, leaning forward so his shaft is on your tummy.

He’s huge and heavy, his balls against your centre as he trails the wet head along your skin, marking you. He’s so big that you’re a little uneasy about the size difference, the head of his length lying on your belly, showing you exactly how deep he can reach inside you. His thumb dips into your mouth, “my stupid baby can’t speak either?”

You nod dumbly and suck on his finger, your mind drifts away as the second's tick by. Ari coos, grabbing your chin and bringing you up, he kisses you messily. Giving in to his darkness, and becoming the beast he was once terrified to be.

As you fall back onto the mattress, your head sinks into the pillows and he spits down where you meet. Watching you carefully, “You’re so pretty, angel.” He groans, swinging your legs over his shoulders, further spreading you open. Grasping his thick base, he rubs the bulbous tip on your folds, coating himself in your slick as lewd noises fill the room.

“You hear that? You’re so wet, just a little mess for daddy. Need me inside your tight pussy, huh? Stretch this little fuckhole, make you mine.”

You clench, you’re at his mercy, cradled in the palm of his rough hands, vulnerable and taken with every word that pours from his lips.

“Want my cock baby? You’ve never let me inside and that’s not very nice, is it?” He’s been starved for far too long and looking down at you whining as his shaft slides through your folds, drenched in your sweetness.

This doesn’t feed Ari’s desire, he needs to be inside you, splitting you open. He has an appetite that will only be suffixed by ruining you.

“Daddy, ah, p-please,” you whine, weakly gripping his built arms. “Want it, please, please.”

“That’s a good girl, using those manners. Now, watch me, baby.” He commands softly, angling your face until your eyes fall to your connected centres. He’s shiny with your juices, his fat tip sitting heavily at your entrance, he inches in and groans appreciatively, “that’s it, fuck, open up for me.” His thumb lands on your clit, applying delicate pressure.

“I-I’m trying, daddy.” You gasp, thighs threatening to close. Falling into a deep abyss of trust and pleasure, “you’re t-too big…can’t—” Your poor cunt couldn’t take the head, you can’t imagine how the rest will fit.

Ari grinds his teeth, he knows he should probably grab some lube to be safe, even though he can’t wait anymore. You were tighter than he imagined. He wants to be careful and not accidentally hurt you, but he does want to see you destroyed, so he tries once more.

Your hole refuses to take him again, and he pulls away—but you latch onto him. “N-No, don’t go, daddy.”

“I need to get lube—”

“Don’t, please… can’t wait anymore.” You beg, lips swollen from his kisses. “Want you so bad, please—”

“Okay, okay,” he shuffles back between your legs, growling at your weepy hole, begging for him. “I’ll stay, but you’ll need to help daddy, okay?”

Your brows furrow, “How?”

Then, he does something that catches you off guard. Slipping fingers into your mouth, forcing you to slobber and gag on the digits like it’s his shaft. If it were possible, Ari gets harder at the sight, his cock throbbing between his thighs as he pulls away, a string of spit connecting your lips to his fingers.

“Touch yourself with my fingers, baby. Open that tight cunt for me.”

Hesitantly, you bring his hand to your heat. Softly moaning as you move his hand along your pussy, covering yourself in your saliva and using him. You cry out, slipping one of his thick, long fingers into you, and Ari takes charge once more.

He spits down on your core, scissoring two fingers into you. Taking you apart in a matter of moments, speaking the most filthy words to bring you over the edge. Your lack of experience is evident through your quick release and loud squeals.

Ari manhandles you again, sliding a pillow under your back to prop up your lower half. His shaft returns to your creamy hole, slipping in with ease. “That’s it, take my cock. You’re so little compared to me, sweetheart. I was scared of hurting you.”

You clench as he draws back, then forward again. His thick girth stretches you wide, barely halfway before you cry out. “Daddy! Too big, I can’t—”

“You can, angel.” Ari gently drops your legs, capturing your lips in his. He kisses away that wrinkle in your forehead, distracting you with his tongue until he’s all the way in. He’s balls deep, his pubic hair brushing your nub. “See? My little dumb baby, worried for nothing.”

You never thought you’d be into this, but it’s strumming you just right. Your vision goes blurry as he hits so deep. Ari hooks one of your knees over his shoulder, keeping you trapped under his beefy frame and locked on his girth.

“I’m going to fill you up. Cum in this little cunt, watch it pour out and fuck you again until you can’t take anymore.” He chuckles darkly as you gasp for air, “Even though it seems like you can’t take anymore right now—you're milking my dick already, baby?” He takes one of your nipples in his mouth, tugging the nub with his teeth, groping your other breast.

You’re already so damn sensitive and arch into his touch. “Ah, Ari!”

“Shh,” he releases your tit with a lewd pop, his eyebrows knitted tightly as you clench around him, “don’t open that mouth unless you’re going to call me daddy.”

“Daddy, daddy, daddy.” You weep.

“That’s my girl.” He starts pumping slowly, letting you feel every vein along your pulsating walls. From tip to base, he feeds your tight hole. “Taking my dick so good—even fucking yourself with my fingers? So good at doing what you're told.”

You whimper, gnawing on your bottom lip as he speeds up. High-pitched uh’s are pushed from your body with every thrust, the tip of his dick ramming into your cervix. You’re so hot and messy already, a mixture of yours and his saliva, and your slick creating a ring around his fat base.

Ari grunts, eyes flickering between your weepy hole and your blissed-out face, with your eyes rolled back and jaw slack. He can’t decide which is more obscene, especially with the drool hanging out the corner of your mouth, dripping onto the pillow.

He’s just started and he can see every thought flying out of your head, your entire body is too full for anything but him. His guttural groans and wandering hands grip your body, leaving finger-shaped indents in their wake. His big cock spreads you wide, a euphoric burn blooming in your little pussy as your juices spill out. You can barely remember your own name.

He kisses you, it’s soft in contrast to his length spearing you open. His tongue slips into your mouth, massaging yours as he swallows your moans. When he touches your hole, you accidentally bite his lip. Ari hisses, “Ow.”

“...You just t-touched me down there.”

Down there—he almost laughs at your choice of words. So pure, even when he’s fucking you one inch from your life.

“I touched your pussy. My dick has been in your mouth before, I know you can say pussy.” He smirks, tracing over your stretched hole to your clit, rubbing in hard circles as you cry out, trying to push him away. You’re too weak and eventually give up, letting him abuse your tingling button.

“Can’t believe you haven’t let me fuck you yet. You knew I’d ruin you, but that’s what you want, huh?” He pounds into you, your body moving up the bed with the sheer force, “Don’t you feel fucking stupid, baby? Oh, sorry—you’re already stupid, yeah? Say it.”

You gulp and nod, pathetically whimpering. “‘m d-dumb, daddy…”

“Yeah, you are, and so fucking creamy,” Ari growls, sweeping his fingers through your folds, gathering your arousal before slipping it to his mouth. His hips unrelenting, dirty sounds filling the room. The headboard even bangs on the wall. “You want a taste, angel?”

“Ah, I-I don’t know…” Your toes curl as he touches your sensitive cunt, then brings his digits to your face. Your mouth falls open in a moan as he rams into your sweet spot, that familiar electricity streaming through your body.

Ari is tempted to shove your taste down your throat, but he’ll play nice, for now anyway. “You’re close again, huh? Then c’mon, just a little bit of a taste. Don’t you want to be my good girl and cum?” He traces your lips.

You do. You want to be his best girl, his angel.

When you nod, Ari doesn’t waste any time. He leans over you, pelvic bone pressing against your clit as his dick spears deeper. You squirm, full and cockdrunk as he rubs his fingers on your tongue, slapping your thigh when you close your lips.

“Keep your mouth open.” His spit lands on your tongue and he sickly smears your tastebuds with your cream and his saliva. “Now, close it and swallow. That’s a good little girl, so good for daddy.”

Your high strikes so abruptly, you don’t expect it. Your juices squirt out all over Ari’s length and his pelvis. His thickness continues to invade your convulsing walls, almost brutally but you take it, gasping around his fingers as your mind goes foggy.

After one particularly hard thrust into your sore cunt, you gag on his fingers, eyes watering as he touches the back of your throat. “Oh, why the tears, baby? You got to cum and made a stupid mess, what’s wrong?” He taunts.

Still floaty from your orgasm, you attempt to answer, but all you can manage are wet choking noises.

“It’s okay, daddy knows what you need.” He grits his teeth and slaps his dick on your nub, the noises making your face heat before he sinks back in. Swinging your other leg over his shoulder, “Look—that’s because you’re so small for my cock, feel me all in your guts, baby?”

There's a faint bulge appearing in your lower belly every time he drives forward. You can’t help but hide your face, you don’t know why.

It’s probably because his filthiness is destroying you.

“Let me see you,” Ari pulls your hands from your face, interlocking your fingers on either side of your head. The pillow sinks, your quiet gasps flowing into the air, “Don’t you ever hide from me, angel. Ever.”

You obey but avert your eyes to his tensing muscles under his flushed skin. He’s ragged and husky, dark hair dusts over his chest and prominent pecs, trailing down his abs to the neatly trimmed pubic hair. You feel so little as he looms over you, swatting your ass before grabbing your breasts, loud grunts flowing over your mewls.

He could crush you—and why did that turn the both of you on?

He grabs your hips, moving you on his cock like a doll. “Look at that tight pussy taking me, such a good girl. Letting daddy fuck your brains out, ruin this little cunt, you’re a dream, sugar.”

You fist the bedsheets, your mouth falling open as he grinds deeply, a hot feeling building in your stomach.

“You want me to put a baby in you? Get you filled up until you’re leaking and crying like a dumb baby.” Ari grunts, fingers bruising your skin, “Stupid, stupid girl—I don’t even have a condom on, you know that? Yeah, and I bet you love it.”

You do—and you love him, you try to say it but all oxygen is yanked from your chest as realization dawns, you aren’t on contraceptives and he knows that too, because you told him.

Ari works your body, unable to stop thinking of you plump and pregnant with his baby. He wants that, he wants you as long as you’ll have him, and hopefully, it’s forever.

His girth splits you open, reducing you to a submissive mess. “For someone so innocent, you sure want to be knocked up, huh? That’s why you’re dripping down my cock. Want me to put a baby in you—fuck, let everyone see you full of me and my baby. They’ll know you’re mine.”

You’re scared, but not because of the possibility of getting pregnant, but because Ari seems to know all your kinks before you do. As your head bobs roughly, your hands have a mind of their own and land on his abs, pushing him away.

Ari tsks, swatting you away, his stomach tightens, “Don’t do that.” Imagining you carrying his big baby was feeding a different desire, the thought of how full you’d be—he can’t contain himself. “You want this—want my cum in you sweet pussy, want daddy to fill you up, yeah?”

“I-I do. Want your, ah, baby!”

“Then, take my dick, sweetheart and let daddy breed your tiny fuckhole.” His dirty words are draped in a gentle tone. He spits but misses your mouth, it lands on your hot cheek. “What a dumb messy girl.”

You're ruined under him, sweaty and hiccuping moans. Your breasts bounce as he fucks you harder, ramming into your sweet spot. You can't process anything over the squelching noises or the headboard slamming into the wall. He’s so big inside you, but it hurts so good that you never want him to stop.

Your walls are heaven around him, sucking him so tightly he doesn’t know how much longer he’ll last. He follows your gaze to your belly, and you squeak when he grabs your hand, pressing your palm to the bulge.

“Feel me right here, baby? You feel daddy’s dick. This little fuckhole could barely take my fingers before, now look at you—taking my cock so good, and begging for my cum.”

You helplessly blubber, struggling to take his thrusts as they get harder, faster.

“You were made for me, huh? And you’re close already?” Ari coos, “mhm, reminds me of our first time, remember that?”

Of course, you do. You’d never forget it. He was passionate and gentle, still dominant yet sweet. Taking you apart with his fingers until you soaked your panties, then he flattened you on the couch, mouthing against your underwear until you nearly cried. Then, he tore the cotton off and pushed his shaft between your folds until he covered your tummy in his seed. Now, he’s finally fucking your tight hole, ruining you for any other man—and your high hits like a wave.

Ari groans, cursing lowly as you squeeze around him, begging for his cum. Without stopping, he lifts your bottom half completely and you squirt all over him, even reaching his heaving chest. Your core suffocates him as he rubs your nub, prolonging your high. “That’s it, fuck, soak me, sweetheart.”

You’re so overwhelmed that you don’t register Ari falling over you. Covering you in his mass, grinding sinfully into your spasming cunt and filling you to the brim. His cum paints your walls white, pumping you full. He claims you, pressing you into the mattress as the air is yanked from your chest.

In utter pleasure, Ari rocks into you with abandon, spurred on by your cries and your nails digging into his shoulders as his pelvis rubs your humming clit. “Give me a baby, angel. That’s it, take daddy’s cum in your little pussy—fucking take it.”

A baby—this man was going to be the death of you in the best way.

His warmth spreads within you, leaking out from around his throbbing girth as his hips slow to a stop. You soften to quiet whimpers, nuzzling into his neck in a daze.

The next time you open your eyes, you’re in his bathtub and curled in his lap. The water is soothing, so is the gentle cloth running over your back and shoulders. Only then do you notice Ari is humming, filling the quiet.

“Bear?”

He chuckles deeply, his wet hand cups your head, “Awake now, angel? Are you okay?” His chest vibrates against your face.

“Mhm, tired.” You sink into the comfort, somehow drifting away again. “Never done anything like that…”

“Me too,” He pecks the side of your head, easily turning you around to wash your other side. A silence takes over again, your head lolling to the side as your eyes flutter shut. Ari’s heart swells, those three words on the tip of his tongue. Say it—he tells himself, “You can sleep again, I’ll bring you to bed.”

“Okay, daddy.” You yawn, the water and his presence envelope you. “Good night…”

It’s now or never—well, not never, more like just until you wake up again, but Ari can’t wait another moment. The words spew out of his mouth in one breath. “I love you, angel.”

Your only reply is a quiet, “luh you.”

Ari knows you’re probably delirious. When you gain consciousness in a few hours, you’ll be mortified over your response to his declaration. At least he’ll be there to comfort you and soothe any other worries you have, just like you have for him.

All fears, little and big.

𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: I've always wanted to write a biker au and just had to add some other special characters hehe, also I'm really happy to fill this request for ari.

Thank you for reading ! I'd love to hear your thoughts/feedback !!

I don’t do taglists anymore. ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 & 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲: @𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞-𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬

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